Serious Philosophy Discussion

[Rimbaud82]

I've got a Masters in History, but I specialize in Intellectual History of the Atlantic World. Historical methods can lead to a lot of interdisciplinary activities, so I've had to read a lot of political science, economics, anthropology, and criminology for my research. I've read Homi Bhabha, Foucault, Arendt, Barthes, Gramsci, Marx, Carl Schmitt, Jefferson, Hegel, Montesquieu, Walter Benjamin, Locke, Hobbes, Hobsbawm, Weber, Friedman (and a lot of critiques about him lol), Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Thomas Kuhn, Kant, Hans Mommsen, Abbe Sieyes, Bourdieu, Habermas, blah blah blah the pompous list can go on but I think the point has been made. I enjoy reading the names I included, despite the theoretical variety, because its fun. I dislike and I like things about most authors, but they all have some contribution to knowledge that should be analyzed to dispute or validate.

Why study philosophy? It's a fascinating field to me because philosophy is the bedrock of science. Science is popularly based on the scientific method, but a major component of that is the hypothesis, for example. Various theses' have been around since before the birth of the modern sciences or have followed the growth of the sciences. It's important to see that science is an enterprise that is in constant evolution and different scientific disciplines have gone through different rates of growth. Old ideas may not be used anymore (fortunately or unfortunately), some might be currently used yet they change forms, and new ideas or "conclusions" are born out of continuous testing of different methods, technologies, and intellectual currents in order to validate or disprove old or current ideas.

 

[Pupi]

Lol cheers, bud. Definitely a hard task, but I'd like to pursue the Ph.D when I have the time, the will, and the currency. Are you a historian, as well? If so, what do you research?

 

[HunterSdVa29]

Respect for the Masters in History, my undergad BA was in history
had to write two 30+ research papers to graduate, did one on USMC counterinsurgency efforts in Vietnam, and the other a Historiography of the Malleus Maleficarum, a German witchhunting treatise from the 15th Century

Chose to pursue Business Administration and Organizational Leadership for my two Masters, but part of me wanted to remain in History

 

[Rimbaud82]

Lol cheers, bud. Definitely a hard task, but I'd like to pursue the Ph.D when I have the time, the will, and the currency. Are you a historian, as well? If so, what do you research?

Yes I too have a Masters in History (well, I graduate next month with a Distinction ). Also considering Phd options for next year.

My research is focused on Early Modern Irish history, particularly questions of religious and national identity in the 1640s and 50s. My undergraduate dissertation was on 'Religious violence and the 1641 Rebellion: Sectarian Divisions in County Monaghan' and my Masters was on 'Thomas Waring, Writing the Past and New English Identity in Seventeenth Century Ireland'. But I am interested in the intellectual history of the 17th century in general, particularly the radical ideas of the 1640s/50s (it's a fascinating, but brief, time what can I say lol). I also wrote a paper on the mystical dimension of Puritanism (or the extent to which we could say it had one) and a book review on Radical Religion in Cromwell's England: A Concise History from the English Civil War to the End of the Commonwealth by Andrew Bradstock (an excellent book I have to say).

 

[Tycho- Taylor's Version]

Talking philosophy is like playing chess and only using other players' established moves. Too many terms, references to schools of thought, and relying on someone else's words and arguments. At some point it's just regurgitation.

Actually I don't disagree that this is an issue with academic philosophy. I've always studied it from outside the academy for that reason, and under the assumption that I could learn it successfully enough (for free) if I had the patience, literacy, and reasoning skills. As such I've got some breadth of knowledge about the different subfields, but few deep specializations (meaning I probably shouldn't be taking on @Bullitt68 about Kant right away lol).

And maybe this was a bit of a what-goes-in-comes-out situation, but I've come to consider the practice of philosophy - not just the study, but the day-to-day application of it - as something like truth-literacy. It's not about understanding a text, or about following some set of formulas to a conclusion, but combining those skills to decode (or at least infer) the truths of the world. Then those truths teach you how to live.

Anyone should be able to do that; and further, do it without needing to cite anyone else at all.

But at the same time you've got to realize that much smarter people have considered the same problems and made some decent progress it would be useful to know about.

 

[Pupi]

Yes I too have a Masters in History (well, I graduate next month with a Distinction ). Also considering Phd options for next year.

My research is focused on Early Modern Irish history, particularly questions of religious and national identity in the 1640s and 50s. My undergraduate dissertation was on 'Religious violence and the 1641 Rebellion: Sectarian Divisions in County Monaghan' and my Masters was on 'Thomas Waring, Writing the Past and New English Identity in Seventeenth Century Ireland'. But I am interested in the intellectual history of the 17th century in general, particularly the radical ideas of the 1640s/50s (it's a fascinating, but brief, time what can I say lol). I also wrote a paper on the mystical dimension of Puritanism (or the extent to which we could say it had one) and a book review on Radical Religion in Cromwell's England: A Concise History from the English Civil War to the End of the Commonwealth by Andrew Bradstock (an excellent book I have to say).

Dope! Early Modern History is fascinating, especially the area you're researching. I've read a lot about Puritanism and a bit about Cromwell, wish I've read more about him though.
Religious violence is the theme of the game during the early modern and modern era. Religious people and their authorities can't help get their holy hands extra bloody, especially with the blood of those they seek to "convert." I'll check out the suggestion you included about Cromwell. He seems to be a second rate Robespierre and he goes well with a reading of Hobbes and Locke like Robespierre goes with Rousseau and Voltaire.

 

[Aegon Spengler]

In all seriousness, critique is absolutely serious business. And academia on the whole desperately needs critiquing. I'm actually listening to the JRE podcast with two of the people responsible for the recent gender studies hoax. Academia is at an all time low, there's no disputing that. And I think that a lot of academics know that the pendulum is gearing up for a huge swing.

Hell, I doubt that it's a coincidence that the paper of mine that's gotten the most views - I'm talking almost ten times as many views as anything else of mine - is the one where I critique the discipline with reference to the philosophy of art.



By "counterpart," do you mean critique/refutation? I don't have anything for you specifically relating to Aquinas, but, for some "proof of God" stuff that I never see mentioned, you might enjoy the Objections and Replies included in Descartes' Meditations as they appear in the second volume of Cambridge's The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, particularly the Fifth Set of Objections and Replies featuring objections made by Pierre Gassendi, if you haven't already read them.



I'm the type of person who can read the most "laborious and verbose text" and enjoy the hell out of it yet who, upon seeing "f(x) = 1 - x + x2," desperately scrambles for the nearest bridge to jump off of

Despite my mathematical and scientific ignorance/aversion, I do often find that I enjoy listening to mathematicians and scientists philosophize. There is a clarity of thought often manifest in the way they conceptualize and articulate things.




Looks like we got us some comedians.

I'm no expert on Eastern philosophy. I'm an admitted noob. So I can't comment on the Taoist side (sorry, @Rimbaud82, I can't break the "T" habit) and whether it's in line with virtue ethics. However, what was so exhilarating about reading the Analects was how scary close it was to Aristotle, Emerson, and Rand on the ethics front. Confucianism is all about character; a hallmark of Confucian teaching is juxtapositions of the thoughts and actions of the junzi (君子), or the "superior man" - which I take to be analogous to the Aristotelian phrónimos (as does May Sim in her excellent book Remastering Morals with Aristotle and Confucius) and the Emersonian "Over-Soul" - and the xiaoren (小人), or the "small" and "inferior" man, and the juxtapositions are always at root about the characters of each and how/why they think what they think and act how they act.

So no, I wouldn't say that Confucianism is just a rule-set and that it's antithetical to Aristotelian/Objectivist philosophy; quite the opposite, I'd say that it's remarkably close to Aristotelian and Objectivist philosophy.

All time low? Come on. That’s a bit much.

 

[Cubo de Sangre]

And maybe this was a bit of a what-goes-in-comes-out situation, but I've come to consider the practice of philosophy - not just the study, but the day-to-day application of it - as something like truth-literacy. It's not about understanding a text, or about following some set of formulas to a conclusion, but combining those skills to decode (or at least infer) the truths of the world. Then those truths teach you how to live.

I like that.

But at the same time you've got to realize that much smarter people have considered the same problems and made some decent progress it would be useful to know about.

By virtue of you paragraph above, most of the useful shit is already passed down and incorporated into our lives. While I've certainly warmed up to the collective unconscious, I've yet to find value in Platonic ideals.

 

[Rimbaud82]

Dope! Early Modern History is fascinating, especially the area you're researching. I've read a lot about Puritanism and a bit about Cromwell, wish I've read more about him though.
Religious violence is the theme of the game during the early modern and modern era. Religious people and their authorities can't help get their holy hands extra bloody, especially with the blood of those they seek to "convert." I'll check out the suggestion you included about Cromwell. He seems to be a second rate Robespierre and he goes well with a reading of Hobbes and Locke like Robespierre goes with Rousseau and Voltaire.

Absolutely, I love early modern history because - as the name suggests - it's not quite medieval and it is not entirely modern like 19th century (for example), yet there are some things which are eerily recognisable whereas, as fascinating as the medieval period is (and I have studied some of that, as I mentioned earlier with the 9th century Eriugena stuff) it can also feel completely alien.

Yeah the religious stuff I look at is interesting, particularly because of how that period has shaped the modern conflict here in Northern Ireland. I am not anti-religious, but certainly it was very bound up with other, shall we say, 'less holy' motives Namely the understandable fact that the English had stole their land and attempted to destroy their society and culture! I basically concluded that secular factors provided the primary motivation to rebel, but religion and religious divisions essentially shaped the course of events and kinds of violence.

Also, that book isn't about Cromwell himself! Just about the various radical groups and thinkers which did sprout up in his time period, I'll paste the two reviews actually (one from an academic pov, the other for a general audience):


Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England: A Concise History from the English Civil War to the End of the Commonwealth, by Andrew Bradstock. London: I.B. Tauris, 2011; pp. xxvi + 187. Pb. £15.99.

Academic:

Spoiler

Although later scholars have not always agreed with his assessments, the influence of Christopher Hill’s seminal work The World Turned Upside Down has loomed large over the study of religion during the mid-seventeenth century since it was first published in 1975. Naturally, the very title of Bradstock’s book invites comparison with that of Hill’s (subtitled ‘radical ideas during the English revolution’). As it turns out, Bradstock is very explicit about the influence of Hill, stating in the preface that The World Turned Upside Down provided his first introduction to the radical religious groups of this period. While far from being a mere imitation, Bradstock consciously follows the same historiographical lineage of Hill (along with other scholars it must be said) and aims to provide a history from below, that which focuses on those who might be seen as ‘history’s losers’ (p. xii). In this case the historical ‘losers’ being the numerous radical religious sects which emerged during the turmoil of the English Civil Wars, the majority of which did not survive the period in question. As well as being worthy of study simply because they are interesting and entertaining, Bradstock suggests that it is also important to look at such groups – rather unceremoniously dismissed by some as ‘loonies’ – both in order the understand ‘the seventeenth century mind’ in a broader sense (in terms of the hopes, aspirations and responses of various groups to political and social turmoil), as well because of their place in the ‘long tradition of struggle for our rights and freedoms’ with some of the ideas these groups prefiguring many of the those that we now take for granted (p. 160).

This volume thus aims to provide a fresh, accessible introduction to these sects during the years 1640 to 1660. In order to fulfil this aim Bradstock has chosen to divide it into seven chapters, along with an introduction and conclusion, with each chapter focusing on a particular religious group: Baptists, Levellers, Diggers, Ranters, Quakers, Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. For the most part I think this approach is very effective, allowing for a significant degree of precision in terms of Bradstock’s analysis of each group’s origins and development, as well their main theological or philosophical arguments. For instance, the opening chapter dealing with Baptists is excellent at describing the historical origins of the movement, as well as the theological differences between the Calvinistic ‘Particular’ Baptists one the hand and the Antinomian ‘General’ Baptists on the other. There is a lot of depth to Bradstock’s account as well. To return to the same example, while acknowledging the ‘radical hue’ of Baptist meetings in terms of their egalitarian style of worship, lack of reliance on scripture and separation from the established church (p. 7), he also points out that many Baptists were socially conservative and went to great lengths to affirm their loyalty to the establishment. However, he also explains in excellent detail why the ideas of the Baptists, particularly separation from the parish structure, were, despite protests from Baptists themselves, ‘seen as subversive and a threat to good order’ (p. 25). It should also be pointed out that the books structure is not overly restrictive, although each chapter focuses on one group, connections are made between all of them throughout the book in order to demonstrate the fluidity of these sects.

It is a credit to Bradstock’s writing that the chapters do not become overly dry and complex, while remaining comprehensive in terms of analysis. Plenty of historical colour is provided through extensive quotation from members of these groups own writings, contemporary newspapers and so on. We are told, for instance, of one newspaper which referred to ‘Prophet Everard’s’ (a leader of the Diggers) intention to turn ‘Oatlands Park into a wilderness and preach liberty to the oppressed deer’ (p. 55). However, such humorous anecdotes do not undermine the seriousness with which many contemporaries considered these new sects either. Indeed, Bradstock’s intention to let the subjects ‘speak for themselves’ comes through to a significant degree (p. xxvi), and in the chapter dealing with the Ranters, the reader gets a genuine sense of the potency of Abeizer Coppe’s writings and the effect his radical ideas, ‘strange and fearful strain’ and ‘phantastick style’ must have had on contemporaries (p. 90). In a similar vein, we are told of ‘intense’ opposition to the Quakers from the general public, often including actual violence (p. 110). All of this helps the reader understand the ‘seventeenth century’ mind.

In addition, the focus on influential individuals also adds an important element of tangibility to the movements. Rather than describing purely conceptual historical forces, Bradstock tries to get at the genuine experience of real people who lived through, and responded to, dramatic events. While an introduction to the Diggers without also highlighting the role of the Gerrard Winstanley and his writings would be absurd, this book successfully complicates the picture of Winstanley as a ‘radical’ by highlighting the period of his life after the collapse of his commune on St George’s Hill, including his apparent conformity to the established church for a period, and his involvement in legal proceedings relating to his brother-in-law’s estate c. 1652 (p. 73). Bradstock is able to introduce a lot of subtlety to his picture of these groups and the individuals who made up their ranks.

Another strength is the way in which the book places religion at the centre of events. While not necessarily arguing against the social or political radicalism of some (although not all) of these sects, Bradstock consistently emphasises that this was usually a by-product of their theology; there was generally no distinction between political and religious concerns and religion was absolutely fundamental to the world-view of seventeenth century people, something which ‘cannot be overstated’ (p. xiv). Even with a group like the Levellers, which other writers have identified as unique in not placing religion at the core of their arguments, there is care taken to point out the theological underpinnings of the movement, and the intense religiosity of its leaders.

However, the book is not without some limitations. Firstly, while Bradstock makes good use of primary sources, these are not referenced fully as with the secondary literature. Often this means that it is not clear where exactly a particular quotation came from which would, in turn, make it difficult for the reader to consult the material for themselves. Another drawback is, to an extent, the methodology used in the text; particularly in relation to the notion of these groups as ‘radical’, as well as the terminology used. There is the natural question as to why some groups have been chosen as sufficiently radical and not others. In the same vein, while acknowledging that we should be careful to avoid solidifying these loose movements into ‘discrete, easily identifiable bodies’ and speaking of what they collectively ‘thought’, Bradstock does use terms such ‘Levellers seem consistently to have held…’ (p. 37). Of course, to a certain degree there is no escaping the usefulness of such terms as heuristic devices and, after all, we need some way of talking about these sects or movements.

Bradstock has stated that he used ‘the general framework used by previous studies, without seeking to debate its merits or weaknesses’ (alluding here to Hill in particular). For a work aiming to be introductory I think that a lack of focus on theoretical debates is reasonable, and overall Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England provides an excellent and engaging overview of one of the most fascinating periods in English history.

General:

Spoiler

The Seventeenth century in general, and period of the English Civil Wars in particular, still holds significant sway in the popular imagination. The very name of Cromwell brings to mind various historical controversies which are hotly debated to this day, while the term Puritan (which has remained in the English lexicon as a term of abuse) conjures up the vivid stereotype of the dour, hat-wearing zealot. When thinking of religion in this period, this is likely the image that comes to mind for most. However, as Andrew Bradstock’s excellent book makes clear this is certainly not the full picture. The period from about 1640 to 1660 was one of dramatic social and religious upheaval, perhaps the most turbulent in English history; a period which saw the emergence of numerous sects, movements and individuals who held extremely unconventional ideas and who hoped to completely transform the society in which they lived. As the Digger leader Gerrard Winstanley put it, “the present state of the old world is running up like parchment in the fire”. This was a time when anything seemed possible and although their revolutionary aims were not fulfilled, it is nevertheless fascinating to look at these groups from the perspective of their own time.

This volume aims to provide an introduction to this strange world of Baptists, Levellers, Diggers, Ranters, Quakers, Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. Bradstock dedicates a chapter to each group in turn, describing their historical origins and providing an overview of their main ideas and the most important individuals within them. Many readers will undoubtedly be surprised to see such radical ideas being espoused in the seventeenth century. For instance, the spiritual communism of the Diggers, or the pantheistic tendencies and extreme Antinomianism of the Ranters. At other times it may be less clear why some ideas were so frightening to ‘ordinary’ seventeenth century people, such as the practices of the Baptists, a group who, after all, survived to the present day and are unlikely to elicit any suspicions of radicalism. This is perhaps the greatest strength of Bradstock’s book. He is able to get at the ‘seventeenth century mind’ and allow the reader to get a sense of the absolute centrality of religion to the political and social lives of people at the time. He is also able to relate this to modern readers, such as in his comparison between the popular perception of Ranters in the 1640s and Hippies and Punks in the 1960s and ‘70s.

Ultimately Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England is a stimulating work that provides a detailed overview of the radical religious groups during this period, while also remaining concise and accessible. Some readers may have a passing familiarity with these groups through older works such Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down, or from novels such as Comrade Jacob (adapted for film as Winstanley in 1975). Others may have never come across them before. It is a credit to Bradstock that he has written a book that will be of interest both to those with more specialist knowledge, as well as to a more general readership.

Maybe we need to start a Serious History Discussion

 

[Pupi]

Absolutely, I love early modern history because - as the name suggests - it's not quite medieval and it is not entirely modern like 19th century (for example), yet there are some things which are eerily recognisable whereas, as fascinating as the medieval period is (and I have studied some of that, as I mentioned earlier with the 9th century Eriugena stuff) it can also feel completely alien.

Yeah the religious stuff I look at is interesting, particularly because of how that period has shaped the modern conflict here in Northern Ireland. I am not anti-religious, but certainly it was very bound up with other, shall we say, 'less holy' motives Namely the understandable fact that the English had stole their land and attempted to destroy their society and culture! I basically concluded that secular factors provided the primary motivation to rebel, but religion and religious divisions essentially shaped the course of events and kinds of violence.

Also, that book isn't about Cromwell himself! Just about the various radical groups and thinkers which did sprout up in his time period, I'll paste the two reviews actually (one from an academic pov, the other for a general audience):


Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England: A Concise History from the English Civil War to the End of the Commonwealth, by Andrew Bradstock. London: I.B. Tauris, 2011; pp. xxvi + 187. Pb. £15.99.

Academic:

Spoiler

Although later scholars have not always agreed with his assessments, the influence of Christopher Hill’s seminal work The World Turned Upside Down has loomed large over the study of religion during the mid-seventeenth century since it was first published in 1975. Naturally, the very title of Bradstock’s book invites comparison with that of Hill’s (subtitled ‘radical ideas during the English revolution’). As it turns out, Bradstock is very explicit about the influence of Hill, stating in the preface that The World Turned Upside Down provided his first introduction to the radical religious groups of this period. While far from being a mere imitation, Bradstock consciously follows the same historiographical lineage of Hill (along with other scholars it must be said) and aims to provide a history from below, that which focuses on those who might be seen as ‘history’s losers’ (p. xii). In this case the historical ‘losers’ being the numerous radical religious sects which emerged during the turmoil of the English Civil Wars, the majority of which did not survive the period in question. As well as being worthy of study simply because they are interesting and entertaining, Bradstock suggests that it is also important to look at such groups – rather unceremoniously dismissed by some as ‘loonies’ – both in order the understand ‘the seventeenth century mind’ in a broader sense (in terms of the hopes, aspirations and responses of various groups to political and social turmoil), as well because of their place in the ‘long tradition of struggle for our rights and freedoms’ with some of the ideas these groups prefiguring many of the those that we now take for granted (p. 160).

This volume thus aims to provide a fresh, accessible introduction to these sects during the years 1640 to 1660. In order to fulfil this aim Bradstock has chosen to divide it into seven chapters, along with an introduction and conclusion, with each chapter focusing on a particular religious group: Baptists, Levellers, Diggers, Ranters, Quakers, Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. For the most part I think this approach is very effective, allowing for a significant degree of precision in terms of Bradstock’s analysis of each group’s origins and development, as well their main theological or philosophical arguments. For instance, the opening chapter dealing with Baptists is excellent at describing the historical origins of the movement, as well as the theological differences between the Calvinistic ‘Particular’ Baptists one the hand and the Antinomian ‘General’ Baptists on the other. There is a lot of depth to Bradstock’s account as well. To return to the same example, while acknowledging the ‘radical hue’ of Baptist meetings in terms of their egalitarian style of worship, lack of reliance on scripture and separation from the established church (p. 7), he also points out that many Baptists were socially conservative and went to great lengths to affirm their loyalty to the establishment. However, he also explains in excellent detail why the ideas of the Baptists, particularly separation from the parish structure, were, despite protests from Baptists themselves, ‘seen as subversive and a threat to good order’ (p. 25). It should also be pointed out that the books structure is not overly restrictive, although each chapter focuses on one group, connections are made between all of them throughout the book in order to demonstrate the fluidity of these sects.

It is a credit to Bradstock’s writing that the chapters do not become overly dry and complex, while remaining comprehensive in terms of analysis. Plenty of historical colour is provided through extensive quotation from members of these groups own writings, contemporary newspapers and so on. We are told, for instance, of one newspaper which referred to ‘Prophet Everard’s’ (a leader of the Diggers) intention to turn ‘Oatlands Park into a wilderness and preach liberty to the oppressed deer’ (p. 55). However, such humorous anecdotes do not undermine the seriousness with which many contemporaries considered these new sects either. Indeed, Bradstock’s intention to let the subjects ‘speak for themselves’ comes through to a significant degree (p. xxvi), and in the chapter dealing with the Ranters, the reader gets a genuine sense of the potency of Abeizer Coppe’s writings and the effect his radical ideas, ‘strange and fearful strain’ and ‘phantastick style’ must have had on contemporaries (p. 90). In a similar vein, we are told of ‘intense’ opposition to the Quakers from the general public, often including actual violence (p. 110). All of this helps the reader understand the ‘seventeenth century’ mind.

In addition, the focus on influential individuals also adds an important element of tangibility to the movements. Rather than describing purely conceptual historical forces, Bradstock tries to get at the genuine experience of real people who lived through, and responded to, dramatic events. While an introduction to the Diggers without also highlighting the role of the Gerrard Winstanley and his writings would be absurd, this book successfully complicates the picture of Winstanley as a ‘radical’ by highlighting the period of his life after the collapse of his commune on St George’s Hill, including his apparent conformity to the established church for a period, and his involvement in legal proceedings relating to his brother-in-law’s estate c. 1652 (p. 73). Bradstock is able to introduce a lot of subtlety to his picture of these groups and the individuals who made up their ranks.

Another strength is the way in which the book places religion at the centre of events. While not necessarily arguing against the social or political radicalism of some (although not all) of these sects, Bradstock consistently emphasises that this was usually a by-product of their theology; there was generally no distinction between political and religious concerns and religion was absolutely fundamental to the world-view of seventeenth century people, something which ‘cannot be overstated’ (p. xiv). Even with a group like the Levellers, which other writers have identified as unique in not placing religion at the core of their arguments, there is care taken to point out the theological underpinnings of the movement, and the intense religiosity of its leaders.

However, the book is not without some limitations. Firstly, while Bradstock makes good use of primary sources, these are not referenced fully as with the secondary literature. Often this means that it is not clear where exactly a particular quotation came from which would, in turn, make it difficult for the reader to consult the material for themselves. Another drawback is, to an extent, the methodology used in the text; particularly in relation to the notion of these groups as ‘radical’, as well as the terminology used. There is the natural question as to why some groups have been chosen as sufficiently radical and not others. In the same vein, while acknowledging that we should be careful to avoid solidifying these loose movements into ‘discrete, easily identifiable bodies’ and speaking of what they collectively ‘thought’, Bradstock does use terms such ‘Levellers seem consistently to have held…’ (p. 37). Of course, to a certain degree there is no escaping the usefulness of such terms as heuristic devices and, after all, we need some way of talking about these sects or movements.

Bradstock has stated that he used ‘the general framework used by previous studies, without seeking to debate its merits or weaknesses’ (alluding here to Hill in particular). For a work aiming to be introductory I think that a lack of focus on theoretical debates is reasonable, and overall Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England provides an excellent and engaging overview of one of the most fascinating periods in English history.

General:

Spoiler

The Seventeenth century in general, and period of the English Civil Wars in particular, still holds significant sway in the popular imagination. The very name of Cromwell brings to mind various historical controversies which are hotly debated to this day, while the term Puritan (which has remained in the English lexicon as a term of abuse) conjures up the vivid stereotype of the dour, hat-wearing zealot. When thinking of religion in this period, this is likely the image that comes to mind for most. However, as Andrew Bradstock’s excellent book makes clear this is certainly not the full picture. The period from about 1640 to 1660 was one of dramatic social and religious upheaval, perhaps the most turbulent in English history; a period which saw the emergence of numerous sects, movements and individuals who held extremely unconventional ideas and who hoped to completely transform the society in which they lived. As the Digger leader Gerrard Winstanley put it, “the present state of the old world is running up like parchment in the fire”. This was a time when anything seemed possible and although their revolutionary aims were not fulfilled, it is nevertheless fascinating to look at these groups from the perspective of their own time.

This volume aims to provide an introduction to this strange world of Baptists, Levellers, Diggers, Ranters, Quakers, Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. Bradstock dedicates a chapter to each group in turn, describing their historical origins and providing an overview of their main ideas and the most important individuals within them. Many readers will undoubtedly be surprised to see such radical ideas being espoused in the seventeenth century. For instance, the spiritual communism of the Diggers, or the pantheistic tendencies and extreme Antinomianism of the Ranters. At other times it may be less clear why some ideas were so frightening to ‘ordinary’ seventeenth century people, such as the practices of the Baptists, a group who, after all, survived to the present day and are unlikely to elicit any suspicions of radicalism. This is perhaps the greatest strength of Bradstock’s book. He is able to get at the ‘seventeenth century mind’ and allow the reader to get a sense of the absolute centrality of religion to the political and social lives of people at the time. He is also able to relate this to modern readers, such as in his comparison between the popular perception of Ranters in the 1640s and Hippies and Punks in the 1960s and ‘70s.

Ultimately Radical Religion in Cromwell’s England is a stimulating work that provides a detailed overview of the radical religious groups during this period, while also remaining concise and accessible. Some readers may have a passing familiarity with these groups through older works such Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down, or from novels such as Comrade Jacob (adapted for film as Winstanley in 1975). Others may have never come across them before. It is a credit to Bradstock that he has written a book that will be of interest both to those with more specialist knowledge, as well as to a more general readership.

Maybe we need to start a Serious History Discussion

What are your thoughts on the birth of the English nation? Have you delved into that often regarding your studies on Ireland? Seems like you are also an ideas guy. What do you usually use as source material? A lot of theologians, especially Luther and Calvin maybe? Lol a serious History Discussion would be great. I'm sure there will be more than a few "amateur" historians (lol), but that can make an otherwise boring discussion fun. Thanks for the reviews!

 

[Devout Pessimist]

I'm no expert on Eastern philosophy. I'm an admitted noob. So I can't comment on the Taoist side (sorry, @Rimbaud82, I can't break the "T" habit) and whether it's in line with virtue ethics. However, what was so exhilarating about reading the Analects was how scary close it was to Aristotle, Emerson, and Rand on the ethics front. Confucianism is all about character; a hallmark of Confucian teaching is juxtapositions of the thoughts and actions of the junzi (君子), or the "superior man" - which I take to be analogous to the Aristotelian phrónimos (as does May Sim in her excellent book Remastering Morals with Aristotle and Confucius) and the Emersonian "Over-Soul" - and the xiaoren (小人), or the "small" and "inferior" man, and the juxtapositions are always at root about the characters of each and how/why they think what they think and act how they act.

So no, I wouldn't say that Confucianism is just a rule-set and that it's antithetical to Aristotelian/Objectivist philosophy; quite the opposite, I'd say that it's remarkably close to Aristotelian and Objectivist philosophy.

Confucius was not as rigid morally as some people mistakenly believe. There is a famous dialogue where he talks about a son who breaks the law and the moral duty of the state to punish him and the moral duty of a mother to lie to the authorities in order to protect her son. He understood that the right thing to do was situational and also depended on the intention.

 

[Devout Pessimist]

Daoist writings are more ambivalent about questions of right and wrong and advocate a kind of moral relativism. Basically, I am not sure on this point lol.

Traleg Kyabgon (1955 - 2012), a Tibetan Buddhist Monk, explains that right and wrong come down to intention. He gives the example of killing and says that killing someone in order to protect one's family would not make killing wrong because the intention is to prevent serious harm to others. There is kind of a moral relativism because one has to consider the context and situation in order to determine if the action was right or wrong, but in most eastern thought having the intention of deliberately harming others is always wrong.

 

[faustian]

@Bullitt68 thank you for organizing this. As said before I'm a filthy casual regarding philosophy but I do very enjoy reading these posts and trying to contribute where I can. I'm a 2L in love with the art of writing, and participating passively/actively as a reader/writer itt is a valuable opportunity (even if engaging requires perpetual researching of specific terms/concepts/people lol)

And, with that, the floor is open. Tell us: Who/what have you read, who/what do you like, who/what do you dislike,

I'll borrow from Goethe to describe my general approach to philosophy: “Reason has to do with becoming, understanding with what has become. The former does not bother with the question, ‘what use?’; the latter does not ask ‘whence?’. Reason takes pleasure in development; understanding wishes to hold everything fixed so that it can exploit it.”

From my rudimentary investigation to date, personal favorites (contradictions aside) would be Plato, Frankl, Emerson, Locke, Hume, Bacon, Aquinas, Kierkegaard, and of course Goethe, and -- more specific to law -- Blackstone, Holmes, Cardozo and Webster (if I find the courage I might post or PM my answer to a Holmes question from my 1L Con Law final). I'd like to attempt Nietzsche and Descartes in the future. I take interest in a broad range of topics including existentialism, idealism, empiricism, realism, rationalism, among others, and I still want to more thoroughly explore nihilism and metaphilosophy. I hold a general aversion to most forms of postmodernism and relativism

My hope is to one day be able to produce/apply/articulate my own philosophical legal reasoning on a level that even remotely approaches the talent of a Cardozo:

On applying the 14th A to states and his articulation of the selective incorporation doctrine, Palko v. Connecticut (1937)

Spoiler

"The line of division may seem to be wavering and broken if there is a hasty catalogue of the cases on the one side and the other. Reflection and analysis will induce a different view. There emerges the perception of a rationalizing principle which gives to discrete instances a proper order and coherence. The right to trial by jury and the immunity from prosecution except as the result of an indictment may have value and importance. Even so, they are not of the very essence of a scheme of ordered liberty. To abolish them is not to violate a 'principle of justice so rooted in the traditions and conscience of our people as to be ranked as fundamental.' Few would be so narrow or provincial as to maintain that a fair and enlightened system of justice would be impossible without them. What is true of jury trials and indictments is also true of the immunity from compulsory self-incrimination. This too might be lost, and justice still be done.

We reach a different plane of social and moral values when we pass to the privileges and immunities that have been taken over from the earlier articles of the federal Bill of Rights and brought within the Fourteenth Amendment by a process of absorption. These in their origin were effective against the federal government alone. If the Fourteenth Amendment has absorbed them, the process of absorption has had its source in the belief that neither liberty nor justice would exist if they were sacrificed. This is true, for illustration, of freedom of thought and speech.

Of that freedom one may say that it is the matrix, the indispensable condition, of nearly every other form of freedom. With rare aberrations, a pervasive recognition of that truth can be traced in our history, political and legal. So it has come about that the domain of liberty, withdrawn by the Fourteenth Amendment from encroachment by the states, has been enlarged by latter-day judgments to include liberty of the mind as well as liberty of action. The extension became, indeed, a logical imperative when once it was recognized, as long ago it was, that liberty is something more than exemption from physical restraint, and that, even in the field of substantive rights and duties, the legislative judgment, if oppressive and arbitrary, may be overridden by the courts. Cf. Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, supra; De Jonge v. Oregon, supra.Fundamental too in the concept of due process, and so in that of liberty, is the thought that condemnation shall be rendered only after trial. Scott v. McNeal, 154 U. S. 34; Blackmer v. United States, 284 U. S. 421. The hearing, moreover, must be a real one, not a sham or a pretense. Moore v. Dempsey, 261 U. S. 86; Mooney v. Holohan, 294 U. S. 103. For that reason, ignorant defendants in a capital case were held to have been condemned unlawfully when in truth, though not in form, they were refused the aid of counsel. Powell v. Alabama, supra, pp. 287 U. S. 67, 287 U. S. 68. The decision did not turn upon the fact that the benefit of counsel would have been guaranteed to the defendants by the provisions of the Sixth Amendment if they had been prosecuted in a federal court. The decision turned upon the fact that, in the particular situation laid before us in the evidence, the benefit of counsel was essential to the substance of a hearing.

Our survey of the cases serves, we think, to justify the statement that the dividing line between them, if not unfaltering throughout its course, has been true for the most part to a unifying principle. On which side of the line the case made out by the appellant has appropriate location must be the next inquiry, and the final one. Is that kind of double jeopardy to which the statute has subjected him a hardship so acute and shocking that our polity will not endure it? Does it violate those "fundamental principles of liberty and justice which lie at the base of all our civil and political institutions"? Hebert v. Louisiana, supra. The answer surely must be "no." What the answer would have to be if the state were permitted after a trial free from error to try the accused over again or to bring another case against him, we have no occasion to consider. We deal with the statute before us, and no other. The state is not attempting to wear the accused out by a multitude of cases with accumulated trials. It asks no more than this, that the case against him shall go on until there shall be a trial free from the corrosion of substantial legal error. State v. Felch, 92 Vt. 477, 105 Atl. 23; State v. Lee, supra. This is not cruelty at all, nor even vexation in any immoderate degree. If the trial had been infected with error adverse to the accused, there might have been review at his instance, and as often as necessary to purge the vicious taint. A reciprocal privilege, subject at all times to the discretion of the presiding judge, State v. Carabetta, 106 Conn. 114, 127 Atl. 394, has now been granted to the state. There is here no seismic innovation. The edifice of justice stands, its symmetry, to many, greater than before."

and, the most important question, the question that makes this thread serious: Why?

Spoiler

"Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence." - Fromm

"For the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that Love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love." - Frankl

"A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the why for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any how." - Frankl

 

[Rimbaud82]

What are your thoughts on the birth of the English nation? Have you delved into that often regarding your studies on Ireland?

I have come across this a little bit, mainly because some would say that the birth of the English nation depended on their sense of Protestant civility which was primarily understood by way of contrast with the barbarism and Catholicism of the Gaelic societies which surrounded them (Ireland and Scotland, and Wales to a much lesser degree, simply because Wales was conquered and assimilated way earlier). Obviously that kind of idea is drawing on Benedict Anderson's idea of nationalism as 'imagined communities'

That's the argument put forward by Linda Colley in her influential book: Britons: Forging the Nation 1707–1837 (London, 1992).

I certainly think that there is an important element to that. That is basicaly what my entire MA dissertation is about! Albeit from the perspective of an English colonist in Ireland, to quote my abstract:

This dissertation examines the identity of the ‘New English’ in Ireland in the middle decades of the seventeenth century through an analysis of Thomas Waring’s pamphlet entitled An Answer to certain seditious and Jesuitical queres. Particular reference is made to the nature of historical representation in the text, and the manner in which its narrative structure relates to the process of New English identity formation. The pamphlet is also placed in context, both that provided by the events of the 1640s and contemporary publications, as well as it’s place within longer-term trends in English writing about Ireland.

And I think that broadly you can see those processes in play in England itself, 'Englishness' is understood on some level as the opposite of the 'Irishness' (or 'Scottishness' - or Frenchness for that matter lol), just that it is less accentuated because they don't experience Gaelic culture with the same sense of immediacy.

Some significant historians of Ireland - namely Aidan Clarke - would also place the English colonial enterprise in Ireland as the first step of an English colonial Atlantic world which obviously also played a signficant role in the development of the English nation. That view has been critiqued more recently (it dates from the 70s), but I do think there is a lot to recommend it.

Seems like you are also an ideas guy. What do you usually use as source material? A lot of theologians, especially Luther and Calvin maybe?

Depends what I am writing I suppose! For undergraduate the main bulk of my source material was the collection of witness statements from Protestant settlers attacked by the native Irish during the rebellion known as the 1641 Depositions:

For my postgraduate diss I was analysing a contemporary pamphlet by Thomas Waring, so that was the main source. Just in general I would say I make most use of the pamphlet literature from that period, as well as a few manuscript sources, in both dissertations the main sources were supported by lots of pamphlet material.

For some of the actual 'religious-ideas' essays I have wrote, the one about Eriugena I posted here, and the one about Puritan mysticism I mentioned then yeah just various theologians + secondary material about them obviously. But tends to be the 'radicals', that's what I am interested in E.g. in the puritanism one I did cite Luther and Calvin and how there ideas were obviously influential for English puritans, and was more mystical than some have acknowledged, but ultimately concluded (obviously perhaps) that they weren't mystics. But the guys I cited there would be more Johann Arndt (pietism), Thomas á Kempis, Bernard of Clairvaux, Benet of Canfield, William Perkins, Lewis Bayly, Jacob Boehme, ThereauJohn Tany, Abeizer Cope, John Rogers, Gerard Winstanley (the diggers) and so on. It's not well known stuff lol, it was a radical undercurrent of mainstream Puritanism.

What about you? I am talking a lot about my interests (which I could ramble about for a long time lol), what topics do you write about?

Lol a serious History Discussion would be great. I'm sure there will be more than a few "amateur" historians (lol), but that can make an otherwise boring discussion fun. Thanks for the reviews!

Maybe I will start one soon, but I feel like I should allow this thread to get going before trying to branch of into another one haha.

 

[Rimbaud82]

Traleg Kyabgon (1955 - 2012), a Tibetan Buddhist Monk, explains that right and wrong come down to intention. He gives the example of killing and says that killing someone in order to protect one's family would not make killing wrong because the intention is to prevent serious harm to others. There is kind of a moral relativism because one has to consider the context and situation in order to determine if the action was right or wrong, but in most eastern thought having the intention of deliberately harming others is always wrong.

That's interesting, but Tibetan Buddhism isn't the same thing as Daoism (though it is also very interesting in it's own). Keep in mind I am not saying Daoism is necessarily relativist.

 

[French Canadian]

And that takes us to this thread. Picking up from where we left off...



It's not my claim. It's Hicks' characterization of MacKinnon's claim.



As I said: Just because MacKinnon is against postmodernism as a school of thought doesn't mean that it's impossible for her own thinking to have traces of/rely on (even if implicitly) postmodernist logic. Her basic position matches up perfectly with the Derridean critique of "phallogocentrism." She may not be "on their side," but she certainly seems to be going the "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" route at the very least.



That wasn't the issue. Hicks' book isn't - and never purports to be - a nuanced history of Medieval philosophy which burrows into all the nooks and crannies of ten centuries of thinking. He looks merely to set up a general context that hits the major points. I'm not asking if you think that he thoroughly articulated all the nuances of this or that philosopher/philosophy to your satisfaction. My question is much simpler: Do you wish to deny even that the general context that he sets up is accurate and maintain that it is, as you said, "complete horseshit"?



Once again, it seems like your issue isn't with Hicks' characterization - that Medieval philosophy is rooted in faith-based thinking, which you're basically affirming here - but rather with his "glass half empty" take on what he characterizes - that "faith-based philosophy" is a contradiction in terms and far from an ideal philosophical mode.



In which cases (and how/why) is it accurate and in which cases (and how/why) is it evident that I "don't understand the concepts behind the words"? Since I require evidence before I make conclusions, you'll understand why I'll need to consider evidence of my wrongness before I conclude that I'm wrong and why I won't be taking your allegation of my wrongness on faith



Dude, I have a PhD and have published essays - two in a peer-reviewed journal run out of a university press - on this shit. I didn't just read one book and then start vomiting it up on this MMA forum. Fear not, Mr. Establishment: Not only have I read more about postmodernism and poststructuralism than everyone on this forum combined times two (if not three), but, since the main topic of conversation here has become Kant: Not only have I read Kant, and not only have I read commentaries on Kant, I've even read The Cambridge Companion to Kant and The Cambridge Companion to Kant's Critique of Pure Reason

FYI: Allen W. Wood's chapter "Rational Theology, Moral Faith, and Religion" in the former is basically a more charitable version of what I've been arguing (and which, by extension, corroborates Hicks' take on Kant). He clearly runs through Kant's religious arguments and presuppositions and astutely points out the problematic rationales for a lot of them. He also wrote a book in 1978 titled Kant's Rational Theology (published by Cornell University Press, which I hope has enough credibility for you) which he opens with the following:

"Kant is not usually thought of as a theologian. He is, in fact, remembered principally as a critic of the tradition of natural theology, on account of his influential attacks on the received proofs for God's existence. The common conception of his relationship to tradition was perhaps articulated most forcefully by Heinrich Heine, who portrayed Kant as a kind of theological Robespierre, a soulless, ruthless, and incorruptible executioner of the Deity [...] Heine's fantasy does contain an important element of truth [...] Kant does not hesitate to express his mistrust of clericalism and traditional ecclesiastical institutions [...] In the area of natural theology, too, Kant is a profound critic of the tradition of scholastic-rationalism and its claims to natural knowledge about God [...] At the same time, however, Heine's account entirely overlooks Kant's profound sympathy with the tradition he criticized. Kant does reject its arguments for God's existence and turns something of a skeptical eye on its claims to speculative knowledge of the divine nature. But in the end Kant is fundamentally unable to conceive of the human situation except theistically and unable to conceive of God in any terms except those of the scholastic-rationalist tradition. Kant's criticism of the tradition is not intended by the philosopher himself to crush its intellectual world or to destroy its kingdom of thoughts [...] His philosophy, viewed integrally and as a whole, actually leaves the traditional kingdom pretty much intact."

I hate to break it to you, Mr. Establishment, but, when it comes to Kant, the Establishment is selling wolf tickets.

I have an exam tomorrow on Gadamer, so I have no time for this today. Our discussion stayed off with no precise points because we were going back and forth on different stuff at the same time. Could you precise the exact points of tensions you want to discuss ? I will come up with answers and maybe we can have a good dialectic going. I would never argue that Kant is not Christian and that there is no Christianity in his doctrine for example. We have to discuss about precise things in order to have tight answers.

I look forward to digging up in my books and to be informed by you. I am not hostile to learning : the Socratic conscience of our own limited knowledge is essential to philosophy (since we love knowledge and strive for it, we haven't yet accomplished it, else we would be sophists, people who are experts in knowledge (I don't use sophist in a negative way here)).

Edit : we would also have to define some words. Is faith based philosophy about people who believe in God ? Is Descartes whole system faith based because he recycled the proofs of God of Anselm and Augustine (two "faith-based" philosopher?). Most of the Enlightement would fall under that. Defining term so loosely seems to me unuseful. But we could go through the exercise so as not to have a "dialogue of deafs" as we say in French.

Edit # 2: I don't know if I am that much of a pro establishment. I believe that Aristotle was never far from Plato (I even lean on calling him a Platonist, following Lloyd Gerson. I also don't believe any of the chronologies and developmentalist approach that are dominant in the study of Plato and Aristotle.

 

[moreorless87]

Actually I don't disagree that this is an issue with academic philosophy. I've always studied it from outside the academy for that reason, and under the assumption that I could learn it successfully enough (for free) if I had the patience, literacy, and reasoning skills. As such I've got some breadth of knowledge about the different subfields, but few deep specializations (meaning I probably shouldn't be taking on @Bullitt68 about Kant right away lol).

And maybe this was a bit of a what-goes-in-comes-out situation, but I've come to consider the practice of philosophy - not just the study, but the day-to-day application of it - as something like truth-literacy. It's not about understanding a text, or about following some set of formulas to a conclusion, but combining those skills to decode (or at least infer) the truths of the world. Then those truths teach you how to live.

Anyone should be able to do that; and further, do it without needing to cite anyone else at all.

But at the same time you've got to realize that much smarter people have considered the same problems and made some decent progress it would be useful to know about.

To be fair I think a lot of what we view as "common sense" is actually philosophy filtered down into mainstream thought. Its fashionable to think of people from different eras as essentially the same as those today and whilst that would be true in terms of a lot of basic motivations I suspect many would actually be surprised how alien living in the past would be in terms of the mindsets of much of the population.

 

[Rimbaud82]

To be fair I think a lot of what we view as "common sense" is actually philosophy filtered down into mainstream though out. Its fashionable to think of people from different eras as essentially the same as those today and whilst that would be true in terms of a lot of basic motivations I suspect many would actually be surprised how alien living in the past would be in terms of the mindsets of much of the population.

This is very true

 

[franklinstower]

@Not A Theist
@Kafir-kun
@franklinstower

I don't think I am quite cut out for this type of thread man. I do have a cursory interest in philosophy though. I am working my way through a"Great Courses" overview of Western tradition on philosophy now.

These discussions are good for me as long as every point is made and not referenced to by naming the philosopher who thought it. Not having all those names in my memory bank makes me unable to follow these threads.


I know I am not as intelligent as most of the philosophers who are referenced but.I do find that most of what I get exposed to is not new information to me--at least not something I have never thought about even if less fully and more clumsily.

 

[faustian]

In all seriousness, critique is absolutely serious business. And academia on the whole desperately needs critiquing. I'm actually listening to the JRE podcast with two of the people responsible for the recent gender studies hoax. Academia is at an all time low, there's no disputing that. And I think that a lot of academics know that the pendulum is gearing up for a huge swing.

Hell, I doubt that it's a coincidence that the paper of mine that's gotten the most views - I'm talking almost ten times as many views as anything else of mine - is the one where I critique the discipline with reference to the philosophy of art.

Imagine if Goethe was alive to suffer the inane onslaught of postmodernism

“The scholastic philosophy had, by the frequent darkness and apparent uselessness of its subject matter, by its unseasonable application of a method in itself respectable, and by its too great extension over so many subjects, made itself foreign to the mass, unpalatable, and at last superfluous”