The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays

I picked up a copy of this anthalogy of essays as I was browsing the bookstore. This was a time when I was wrestling with the absolutism of monistic philosphical systems, whether religious or secular(communism, nazism, capitalism, individualism, etc...)vs. the opposite view- nihilistic and perspectivist relativism, which seems to look at the shortcomings of the virtues of each of these systems, and so then tosses them all out the window, leaving us with nothing. I was not aware that there could be a third alternative. I started reading the first essay, "the pursuit of the ideal", and felt absolutely thunderstruck! How often have you felt that way after reading a philosophical essay? Another essay in the same vein is "Two Concepts of Liberty". What Berlin is arguing in these essays is not that values do not exist, or that they are relative. It is more subtle: who said these values are all destined to converge together to form the perfectly virtuous man, as Aristotle seemed to think? Berlin uses the analogy of a jigsaw puzzle. The various virtues are like pieces of a puzzle, but who said this puzzle was a good one- that its pieces were designed to ultimately fit together, if only we were wise enough, learned enough, read enough, spiritual or religious enough, etc... And yet we seem to cling to this Platonic Ideal, this "ancient faith", as Berlin calls it, and sacrifice ourselves and our fellow man in trying to achieve a final solution to this puzzle. In this search for a final solution, no price seems to be too high to pay. Can one be a perfect parent and be highly successful in their career? Can one be completely honest, peace-loving, and truthful (very laudable Christian virtues) and still be an effective leader of state (Who often needs the Machiavellian virtues of stealth, secrecy, and even heartless violence if needed)? Is one wrong in acknowledging the merits of capitalism, and yet wanting to have this tempered to some extent so that society offers a bit of a safety net to those who occasionally fall off? Berlin's solution is to realize that these ultimate virtues do not necessarily always entail one another, and that life frequently forces us to choose between these. Of course we have the enlightenment ideals of judgement, rationality, knowledge, & intelligence to help guide us. But there is also room for the Romanticist ideals of taste, temperament, and passion. It offers the best reconcililation between these world views that I am aware of. Berlin himself seems to like the label liberal objective pluralism for this kind of thinking.I have read things that echo his thought in such thinkers as William James and John Dewey, but never so clearly and eloquently written. Do you find that there is something terribly wrong in the relativistic nihilism of postmodern thought, as well as absolutist, fundamentalist, narrow-minded and simple-minded ideologies (both religious and secular) which seem to be a backlash to that kind of thi

The review below is the work of someone who hates the English language. Bemoaning Isaiah Berlin his verbosity is akin to sitting courtside, complaining about Michael Jordan's long legs or the hairs on the hairy arms of Pete Sampras. Berlin's prose is verbose, fantastical, exhilarating, and breathtaking. Said review below also, yet still more absurdly, claims Berlin to be a cultural relativist, an outrageous slander. Isaiah believed that human ends were constant and universal. He would often, in conversation, support this with an idea of Wittgenstein's, that if a lion could speak, we would not understand it. The point is that, unlike talking cats, we hear each other across contingents and cultures, centuries and civilisations. Less happily, the values we hold, Berlin also knew, while objective, even universal, are irreconcilable, conceptually incompatible, and live, contra Pythagoras, in eternal disharmony. Realising all our values at the same time would sound like something by Schoenberg. So we must make choices. And such choices, trade-offs that they are, involve loss. For Berlin, choice is constituted by loss, the meaning of tragedy, the original sin of free-will. The book is a generous anthology of Isaiah's essays. While they're each published elsewhere, and while I would have made a different selection (I disagree with the inclusion of "Historical Inevitability", which is too long and needs some editing), this is a convenient format, perfect for taking on holidays and reading on the beach.

In this volume Henry Hardy Isaiah Berlin's faithful pupil and editor brings together some of the best essays from the previous volumes of Berlin essays he supervised the publication of. There are essays on 'The Pursuit of the Ideal ' on ' Philosophical Foundations' on 'Freedom and Determinism' on 'Political Liberty and Pluralism' on 'The History of Ideas ' on 'Russian Writers ' on' Romanticism and Rationalism' and on ' Twentieth Century Figures' The volume contains Berlin's most well- known essays including the essay on 'The Hedgehog and the Fox' the one on ' Machiavelli' and the one ' On Historical Determinism'. This is a selection of the best writing of a person who is without question one a most significant modern political thinker and historian of ideas. Berlin's love of ideas, his vast knowledge, his tremendous verbal energy and skill, his humane understanding of character, his original consideration of fundamental historical periods and processes are all at work here. This is a volume which should be in the library of every person who wishes to think about history and politics seriously.

The fox knows many things; the hedgehog knows one big thing -Archilochus, 8th century BCNever have the readers of the New York Times been more humbled and mystified than the November day in 1997 when the paper ran a front page obituary for the Latvian-born British philosopher Isaiah Berlin. You could hear the collective gasp and feel the pull of the intake of breath as thousands of folks who pride themselves on being "in the know" turned to one another and asked, across a table laid with grapefruit halves and bran cereal,, "Was I supposed to know who Isaiah Berlin was? I've never heard of him." The answer is that there was no real reason most of us would have heard of him, though we'd likely read a couple of his book reviews. He was after all a philosopher who never produced a magnum opus summarizing his worldview. His reputation really rested on a couple of amusing anecdotes, one oft-cited essay, The Hedgehog and the Fox, and on his talents as a conversationalist, which would obviously only have been known to an elite few. Oddly enough, he has experienced a significant revival of interest since his death, but he is basically still just known for this essay.If, like me, you finally forced yourself to read War and Peace and were simply mystified by several of the historic and battle scenes, this essay is a godsend. Though many critics, and would would assume almost all readers, have tended to just ignore these sections of the book, Berlin examines them in light of Tolstoy's philosophy of history and makes a compelling case that Tolstoy intended the action of these scenes to be confusing. As Berlin uses the fox and hedgehog analogy, a hedgehog is an author who has a unified vision which he follows in his writing ("...a single, universal, organising principle in terms of which alone all that they are and say has significance...") , a fox has no central vision nor organizing principle; his writings are varied, even contradictory. Berlin argues that Tolstoy was a fox who wanted to be a hedgehog, that he longed for a central idea to organize around, but so distrusted the capacity of human reason to discern such an idea, that he ended up knocking down what he saw as faulty ideas, without ever settling on one of his own.According to Berlin, in War and Peace, Tolstoy used the chaotic swirl of events to dispel a "great illusion" : "that individuals can, by the use of their own resources, understand and control the course of events." Or as he puts it later, Tolstoy perceived a "central tragedy" of human life : ...if only men would learn how little the cleverest and most gifted among them can control, how little they can know of all the multitude of factors the orderly movement of which is the history of the world...This idea is strikingly similar to the argument that F. A. Hayek made almost a century later in his great book The Road to Serfdom, though Hayek made it in opposition to centralized governmen

"The Proper Study of Mankind" is an awe-inspiring anthology of seventeen essays in the Humanities by the erudite and engaging Isaiah Berlin. The title may seem a bit stilted for Berlin, who is no starched collar, and whose writing is crisp, crackling, and refreshingly free of pomp and pedantry. But then...so long as one stops and thinks (something going out of fashion these days, but still very much in the spirit of Berlin)...that title does make sense. Of course! "The proper study of Mankind is Man." Not ideals. Not ideologies. But human beings as they really are--and what they actually do.Berlin does not believe in final solutions to human questions. There is no definitive answer once and for all. Nor is there one way, the way, the only way to be, live, act, think, learn, work, write, express oneself, etc. Man is not singular. Man is plural. That is what makes humanity so facinating to "study." The mystery, the drama, the unpredictability of these intractable creatures baffle social scientists, human engineers, controlling personalities who--try as they may!--cannot quite track down, trap, take prisoner the wildly elusive chimera of "human nature."Ah, but Shakespeare delights in this dazzling dance. And so does Berlin. He writes with riveting wonder at the butterfly flights of human beings, human minds, human wills, human histories. He traces errant clues left behind, on scattered pages, to defy the wind of time. Berlin is sensitive to these fragile fragments of thought, these traces, these rumblings of the human spirit. He is a great historian of ideas--one who listens with a keen sense of hearing for echoes and reverberations in the din of cacophony. He is a perceptive discerner of patterns in space, careers through time, and points of origin. He is original. He does not regurgitate his enormous reading. Rather, he chews, tastes, savors, spits out fat, sucks up marrow, and digests. Thus fortified by this huge feast of reading, Berlin writes something utterly new, all his own, from all that he has read.The most stirring, most exciting, pages in this anthology are those of the finale (section V) of Berlin's essay on "The Apotheosis of the Romantic Will." When Berlin writes like this, you don't just see light, you feel fire! But then, turning to Berlin's penetrating essay on "The Origins of Machiavelli," the reader is captivated by an utterly different set of sensations: depth, moisture, deep caves, dank smells, dirt, digging in darkness, fearful, clutching one's dagger, probing, deeper--a Dante-esque spiralling down to the bowels of the earth--followed by a swift sudden plunge into the heart of this seminal genius, this Machiavelli, this spectre of the night whose short, simple, virus-like books continue to plague the west, century after century. This too is great reading!Indeed, all of the essays in this anthology are good. It's just that some are better than others--depending on wha