Robbins Library Notes

Good morning, readers!

Blog Status update: I still don’t have the ability to add categories or tags to blog posts, nor am I able to post links.  I’m still trying to get in touch with someone who can help me, but I’m not having much luck at this point.  So, there we are.  With that out of the way, let’s turn to today’s post.

Late yesterday, I received a request, asking if there are online versions of Plato’s dialogues.  The answer is yes!

One good source is the Internet Classics Archive.  Along with Plato, there are 58 other authors, with 441 works of classical literature.  The texts are mainly Greek and Roman works, but the site does include a few Chinese and Persian works.  All of the texts are in English translation.

However, two caveats about using the Plato texts on the Internet Classics Archive:

• The texts do not appear to have the Stephanus pagination.  So, if you’re looking for a specific reference, e.g., Republic 514a — the start of the Allegory of the Cave in Book VII — you will not be able to easily locate it using these texts.
• With one exception, the translations offered are those by Benjamin Jowett, mostly like because they are in the public domain and thus fall outside the purview of copyright.  Jowett did his translations in the late 19th century, so the language may appear to some to be dated.  Also, Jowett had his own idiosyncratic views on Plato, which color the translations.  None of which invalidates the work that Jowett did — only that readers should approach his translations cum grano salis.*

The Perseus Digital Library is another place to visit.  There is a wealth of information on this site, with much more than just classical texts.  However, it doesn’t have the friendliest interface — though the new version, in beta testing, is a definite improvement!  For Plato’s dialogues, there are English translations and the original Greek texts, for comparison, and links to older reference sources.  Also, many of the translations are those of the Loeb Classical Library and other sources, not those of Jowett, and they include the Stephanus pagination.

Both of these sites are great to check a reference, or to locate readings should the required translations for your course not be available.  Nonetheless, as older, public domain sources, they will not reflect current scholarship, and may differ significantly from the translations that you’ve been assigned in class.

Project Gutenberg is a third place, though it offers mostly the Jowett translations, which include Jowett’s lengthy commentaries before the texts of the respective dialogues.  If you have been asked by your professor to read only the text of a dialogue, and to not use secondary sources, you may want to avoid these versions for the time being.

Are there other sources to which one might turn?

*Latin: With a grain of salt.

Good morning, readers.

Over the weekend, it appears that the Word Press software was updated.  I had no knowledge that this was about to happen.

As a result, all of the links and categories were erased from the site.  The links are still appearing in my administrative window, but not on the live blog.  I do not know what happened to the categories.  I’m not particularly keen on going back and entering in categories for the nearly 300 posts I’ve written so far, but, I don’t want to leave the posts uncategorized, so, I will have to see what I can do to fix this.

For those of you who posted comments over the weekend: I have read your comments, and will try to post them.  Unfortunately, this new platform is not allowing me to view the comments and approve them.  So, I’m not ignoring you.

Please be patient over the next few days, until I can get the bugs worked out and figure out what’s going on. Hopefully, I will be back up and running in a few days.

Afternoon update: I’ve finally figured out how to upload files, and to read and approve comments, though with difficulty.  I am still not able to add categories or tags at the present time.  Thank you for your continued patience.

Good morning, readers!

With the Fall 2008 Term close at hand, I want to let you know about a few things

Vacation: I will be out tomorrow (22 August 2008) on vacation, and thus will not be posting until next week.

Course Reserves: For my Harvard readers who are faculty and teaching grad students — we’re rapidly approaching the start of the Fall 2008 term, and I am writing to you to once again offer my help in assembling course reserves for your fall term courses.  As always, getting me the syllabi sooner rather than later is greatly appreciated.

Also, if you would like me to scan materials for course reserves, I am happy to assist as well.  As before, because of the sheer volume of materials that I am asked to scan every term, I request that items to be scanned come to me already photocopied. “Already photocopied” means:

• Single-sided copies
• As little shadow in the middle as possible, if you are copying two pages on one sheet
• Preferably not article offprints, as these need to be copied to speed up the scanning process.
• Prioritized in order of urgency, especially if you have a large number of items to be scanned.  This will help me to prioritize my workflow.
• Only 1 chapter or 1/10 pages per work may be scanned and posted at a time, to keep in compliance with copyright. Entire books cannot be copied and posted, unfortunately.

I will be happy to post these items to your course Web site — all you need do is add me as a course administrator to your course Web site.  If you need help with this, please let me know.  I’m happy to show you how to do this.

Furthermore, if you’d like some help with setting up your course Web site, I’d be glad to assist.

Bibliographic Instruction: Finally, if you would like to work a bibliographic instruction component into your courses, or to add reference sources to a course Web site, please let me know.  I’m happy to help you help your students navigate their way around the Harvard University Library labyrinth.  Or, if you’d like me to bring in some of the gems of the Robbins collection to show your students, I’m happy to do that as well.

That’s all I can think of to let you know about for now.  I will keep you posted with further updates as they come along.

At left: Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)

The same thing happened to me that, according to legend, happened to Parmeniscus, who in the Trophonean cave lost the ability to laugh but acquired it again on the island of Delos upon seeing a shapeless block that was said to be the image of the goddess Leto.  When I was very young, I forgot in the Trophonean cave how to laugh; when I became an adult, when I opened my eyes and saw actuality, then I started to laugh and have never stopped laughing since that time.  I saw that the meaning of life was to make a living, its goal to become a councilor, that the rich delight of love was to acquire well-to-do girl, that the blessedness of friendship was to help each other in financial difficulties, that wisdom was whatever the majority assumed it to be, that enthusiasm was to give a speech, that courage was to risk being fined ten dollars, that cordiality was to say “May it do you good” after a meal, that piety was to go to communion once a year.  This I saw, and I laughed.

–  Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or, I, 33-34

Good morning, readers!

Over the summer, I’ve been reading some fascinating histories of philosophy in the 20th century.  Two of them address American philosophy during the Cold War, and the third looks at philosophy at a pivotal moment in the first part of the century, before the notorious split between analytic and Continental philosophy.

What emerges from these three books is the degree of influence that the political and historical context in which philosophy is lived and practiced can have. While it’s too simplistic to claim that understanding philosophy can be reduced to merely studying its historical, social, and cultural contexts, I would argue that it’s important to see that philosophy does not exist in a vacuum, and that historical, social, and cultural forces can have a great influence on philosophy, though these need to be interpreted and assessed with care.*

This holds true, I will claim, for American philosophy, especially during the 20th century.  After reading the first two histories, it’s frightening to see how figures like, e.g., Rudolph Carnap, were kept under surveillance for their supposed political activities, or threatened in subtle and not-so-subtle ways to get in line.  It’s scary to read how lives and careers could be ruined or altered by people settling personal scores or demanding ideological conformity under the cloak of national security.  And it’s also sad to consider what might have been, had philosophy not been forced into (and chosen to remain) in a defensive position for so many decades such that it limited the scope of its inquiries and interests.

Without further ado, here are the books, along with a brief review of each:

Time in the Ditch: American Philosophy and the McCarthy Era, John McCumber (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2001)

McCumber’s book explores how the McCarthy era had a devastating effect on American philosophy during the late 1940s and 1950s, and beyond.  McCumber analyzes how philosophy and philosophers were targeted by the FBI, HUAC, and others during the Cold War, and how this had a chilling and limiting effect on how philosophy was studied and practiced.  McCumber offers evidence to show that the defensive position and apolitical stance that American philosophy was forced to take has never been abandoned, and that these have limited and driven the discipline to focus on a narrow range of topics and questions, to the exclusion of others.

It’s a fascinating, if not frightening, read, especially in contemporary times when conservative forces are again trying to silence dissent and questioning by claiming these to be “unpatriotic” and “treasonous.”  In these interesting times, and in light of McCumber’s (and Reisch’s — see below) claims, the quote from Santayana that I posted last week rings true.

However, if there is one failing with the book, it’s that I find that McCumber has an ax to grind, especially towards the end of the book, when he discusses how Continental philosophy and philosophers have been excluded from the American philosophical discourse.  While he does have a point, at times I found that McCumber quickly became strident in his criticism, and found this to be off-putting.

How the Cold War Transformed Philosophy of Science: To the Icy Slopes of Logic, George A. Reisch (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005)

Similar to McCumber’s book, but from more of an analytic perspective, Reisch’s book also examines how the Cold War, and the shift in political climate from the progressive 1930s to the conservative 1950s wrought a number of changes on the practice and understanding of American philosophy (and especially philosophy of science).

This is an decent book, overall, especially if you are looking to get a good grounding in the basis of some of context around and concepts of philosophy of science during the early and middle parts of the 20th century.

Nonetheless, I do have a complaint about the book.  I’m bothered by the fact that relatively little attention is given to the conservative critics of philosophy of science, in comparison with the left-wing critics.  Mortimer Adler and Robert Maynard Hutchins get a few dismissive paragraphs and mentions throughout the book, but no chapter in their own right — unlike the left-wing critics, who get two chapters of their own.  And there were certainly more critics of philosophy of science than just these two men.

Furthermore, there was (and is still) a battle over where philosophy belongs: is it merely a part of science?  Or is it part of the humanities?  What sort of questions should philosophy address?  Should it be apolitical, or be used in the service of political agendas?  Do the empirical sciences supplant the social sciences and humanities, or do the latter have their own contributions to make and value to add?  These and other questions remain relevant, and were given serious consideration by people like Adler and Hutchins, and perhaps deserve more attention than they are given in this book.

I’m also a bit uncomfortable with Reisch’s attempt at engaging Continental philosophy at the end of the book, wherein he attempts a Foucauldian-style power analysis.  In short, he makes the claim that the American academy during the Cold War and beyond, was akin to a concentration camp.  The conservative power structure, in an attempt to silence and render impotent their progressive adversaries, shunted the latter off into the irrelevance of the ivory tower, where they would have little to no effect.  While the claim is intriguing, prima facie, I’m not sure that it stands on deeper inspection.  For one thing, the analogy strikes me as being inapt — being a tenured intellectual in an academic setting is nothing like the dehumanizing brutality of the camps.  For another, it strikes me as being somewhat offensive, for the same reasons.  Finally, in light of my own reading of several of Foucault’s works, I’m not sure that this analysis is something with which Foucault would himself agree, though I may be wrong on this account.

In spite of these criticisms, don’t discount the book entirely on these grounds.  It’s still worth reading, if you keep these flaws in mind.

A Parting of the Ways: Carnap, Cassirer, and Heidegger, Michael Friedman (Chicago: Open Court, 2000)

Of the three histories that I read over the summer, this one was by far the best.  Friedman discusses the 1929 Davos Conference, at which Ernst Cassirer and Martin Heidegger debated, and Rudolph Carnap attended.  In examining the thought projects of these three men, Friedman provides a clear and lucid outline, not only of Heidegger’s, Carnap’s and Cassirer’s thought, but also of Kantian epistemology, neo-Kantianism, and phenomenology. Moreover, Friedman shows how these three interact and critique each other, and where they will ultimately split, because of political and historical circumstances, into the two-fold division of 20th century Western philosophy.  Finally, Friedman shows the importance and continuing relevance of Cassirer, who is often overlooked in the history of 20th century thought, other than as an historian of thought.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and have recommended it to several others who are working in this field and on these topics.

Do any readers have opinions on these books? Are there other histories that I should look at and review, e.g., Glock’s What is Analytic Philosophy?

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*Peter Gordon offers some relevant discussion on historical context and the history of ideas in Gordon, P.E. (2004).  Continental Divide: Ernst Cassirer and Martin Heidegger at Davos, 1929 — An Allegory of Intellectual History. Modern Intellectual History (1)2, 219-248.  (You’ll need a Harvard PIN and ID to access this article.) This article is especially relevant in light of the third book that I review, Thomas Friedman’s A Parting of the Ways.

Good morning, readers, and happy Monday!

I haven’t done a humorous post in a while, so here is one, via David Chalmers, that may be amusing: “Zombies on the web.”  Chalmers discusses (mostly) philosophical zombies, but other categories (e.g., Hollywood) are mentioned.

Enjoy!

At left: Caricature of John Dewey (1859-1952), by André Koehne

John Dewey was one of the most influential American philosophers in the pragmatist tradition.  Over the course of his long life, Dewey wrote about philosophy, psychology, education, politics, science, and much more — in fact, his collected works run into 37 volumes.

I’ve long been interested in Dewey since my undergraduate days, my interest sparked by my undergraduate mentor, M.W. Barnes.  While browsing through Bookforum.com yesterday, I found a very interesting review article of books about Dewey:

Margolis, Eric. (2007, November 29). Teaching John Dewey: An essay review of three books on John Dewey. Education Review, 10(14). Retrieved 8/14/2008 from http://edrev.asu.edu/essays/v10n14index.html.

In this essay, Margolis reviews three books that he examined, in order to help him teach Dewey to graduate students:

• Martin, Jay. (2002). The Education of John Dewey: A Biography.
• Simpson, Douglas J. (2006). John Dewey: Peter Lang Primer. 
• Johnston, James Scott. (2006). Inquiry and Education: John Dewey and the Quest for Democracy.

If you are curious about Dewey, and why he was (and is) so influential and important, you’ll want to read Margolis’ review.

Good morning, readers!

I realized yesterday that I haven’t posted any new podcasts from Philosophy Bites since late May. Here’s a list of the podcasts added since then:

Enjoy!

Good morning, readers!

I’ve been asked several times during my tenure here at Harvard about citation management software.  Last September, I wrote a post about the topic, outlining EndNote, RefWorks, and Zotero.

Recently, while attending a training session on EndNote, I learned that a new iSite is now available, Using RefWorks, EndNote, and Other Citation Tools.  Here, you can link to comparisons of the three software packages, learn about their strengths, weaknesses, and use, and where to go for additional training.

This is a very useful site, especially for those who are writing long papers, books, or theses.  You can link to the site via the link above.  Additionally, I’ve placed a link on the Department of Philosophy Writing Resources page.

Please let me know if you have any questions about these tools.  They really can become a life-saver, especially if you have a large number of citations and references to keep track of, and to format for publication or for thesis submission.

At left: George Santayana (1863-1952)

Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

– The Life of Reason, Volume 1: Reason in Common Sense, Ch. XII

One of Santayana’s pupils was the poet, Wallace Stevens, who penned “To an Old Philosopher in Rome” in homage to his teacher.