Rationalism in Politics and other essays

by Michael Oakeshott

Rationalism in Politics, first published in 1962, has established the late Michael Oakeshott as the leading conservative political theorist in modern Britain. This expanded collection of essays astutely points out the limits of "reason" in rationalist politics.

Oakeshott criticizes ideological schemes to reform society according to supposedly "scientific" or rationalistic principles that ignore the wealth and variety of human experience. "Rationalism in politics," says Oakeshott, "involves a misconception with regard to the nature of human knowledge." History has shown that it produces unexpected, often disastrous results. "Having cut himself off from the traditional knowledge of his society, and denied the value of any education more extensive than a training in a technique of analysis," the Rationalist succeeds only in undermining the institutions that hold civilized society together. In this regard, rationalism in politics is "a corruption of the mind."

Timothy Fuller is Professor of Political Science and Dean of the College at Colorado College.

Genres: Philosophy, Politics, Nonfiction, Essays, History, Political Science, Sociology

582 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1962

About the author

English philosopher and political theorist who wrote about philosophy of history, philosophy of religion, aesthetics, and philosophy of law. He is widely regarded as one of the most important conservative thinkers of the 20th century, although he has sometimes been characterized as a liberal thinker.
Oakeshott was dismayed by the descent into political extremism that took place in Europe in the 1930s, and his surviving lectures from this period reveal a dislike of National Socialism and Marxism.
In 1945, Oakeshott was demobilized and returned to Cambridge for two years. In 1947, he left Cambridge for Nuffield College, Oxford. After only a year, he secured an appointment as Professor of Political Science at the London School of Economics (LSE), succeeding Harold Laski. He was deeply unsympathetic to the student action at LSE that occurred in the late 1960s, on the grounds that it disrupted the aims of the university. Oakeshott retired from LSE in 1969.
Oakeshott refused an offer of Knighthood from Queen Elizabeth II, for which he was proposed by Margaret Thatcher.

Reviews

[Chris Cangiano · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oakeshott's most famous work is a critique of the modern "rationalist" approach to political discourse, and while not an easy read can be worthwhile for a person of any political perspective. While nominally labelled a "conservative" Oakeshott's conservatism isn't really of the traditional American doctrinaire model but rather based on a plea that tradition has a key place in shaping a free society and that change to tradition should proceed at a slow and deliberate pace and that we should eschew attempts to consciously model our society to achieve deliberate ends. Indeed, when Oakeshott defines "rationalism" he is referring to any philosophy which believes that it can solely through the agency of human intellect create a detailed plan based on a political theory for perfecting society. Under Oakeshott's view this approach which ignores the practical way people order their own lives in actuality in favor of a theoretical approach is what leads to loss of human freedom and misery. In many ways this is an appealing take for someone like me who is of a libertarian bent and believes in the concept of spontaneous order and the inability to impose "freedom" or perfection from the top down. Where I part company with Oakeshott is his Hobbesian core which sees the State as the source and protector of all of our rights. Still this was an important piece of 20th Century political philosophy and an insightful, if dense, read. The essays in Part 4 were for me alone worth the price of admission.

[Jack Fleming · Rating 3 out of 5]

A story is told that not long after coming to power in 1979 Margaret Thatcher was deciding which Conservative intellectuals she would reward in the New Years honours list and was keen to bestow a knighthood on a man who she believed had made her victory possible. 'Give that man Oakeshott a title' she is supposed to have said to some Whitehall lackey charged with doling out such baubles. A knighthood was duly presented to...Walter Oakeshott, a medievalist and cousin, no less deserving perhaps, but not the man that Thatcher had intended, a mistake which was not discovered until it was too late. Whether apocryphal or not the story is told because it seems to reveal something about this most unlikely of political heroes, who probably quite enjoyed the chance to retell the story and have a laugh at his own expense.

Michael Oakeshott was one of the most important Conservative political philosophers of the last hundred years, but outside of a relatively small circle of academics is still largely unknown to the general public. The reason may be that his was a strange brand of Conservatism, opposed entirely to Ideology or Dogma and basing itself on 'Tradition' and 'Practice' instead. For this reason he has always been regarded with suspicion by right wing activists in search of a slogan to march to and a banner to hide behind. For Oakeshott, the Conservative 'disposition' as he put it, was entirely against such slogans and banners. His most succinct expression of his political ethos was delivered in his essay 'On Being Conservative' in which he favourably contrasts the Tory mindset with the Progressive, and its preference for "The familiar to the unknown, the tried to the untested, the near to the far, the sufficient to the superabundant...present laughter to Utopian bliss." This neatly encapsulates the fundamental political difference between those who see the State as a vehicle for political salvation and those who see it as a necessary evil to be used for limited, non-instrumental purposes, if at all.

This collection of his essays was published during the Post War expansion of the Welfare State and the seeming dominance of the State Socialist model. In it he critiqued the trend for Government control of all areas of political life and of central planning of the economy carried out by teams of 'Rationalists'. His critique was not on practical, but on moral terms. He argued that it was perverse for any State or Society to pursue perfection 'as the crow flies' whether or not they were capable of delivering such perfection (which he highly doubted). He contrasted so called 'Enterprise Associations' where the Government is committed to a specific political goal, with his own preference for 'Civil Association' in which the role of the State is to act as a neutral arbiter, a referee, who establishes the rules of the game and then lets people get on with it. Or, as another metaphor would have it, he compared Governing to sailing a great ship, with no harbour and no appointed destination, where the job of leadership was merely to keep the thing afloat on an even keel.

This hostility to state overreach achieved its apotheosis in the elections of Thatcher and Reagan and the high watermark of Neo-liberalism, which demolished the post-war consensus and would itself become the new governing ethos. Government was now the problem, not the solution, in Reagan's telling phrase. However, by this point opposition to Government interference had hardened in Conservative quarters into a dogma in itself, with the State to be driven from all areas of public life in favour of market solutions to every human problem. This too, Oakeshott opposed, famously quipping that "A plan to get rid of all planning may be preferable to its opposite but it comes from the same school of thought." His own type of Conservatism was not based on a reducible set of political goals to be established for all time but on a disposition to regard politics as a limited and specific activity, the role of government to be similarly circumscribed, and the rules of tradition as a guide to conduct, without being in any way faultless. However this can make him seem like an abstruse and dour figure. The truth is this collection contains some of his most beautiful writing. 'The Tower of Babel' for example is a wonderful essay which takes the biblical story as a departure point for his own thoughts on hubris and human imperfectability. Meanwhile his final essay, with the glorious title 'The Voice of Poetry in the Conversation of Mankind' is expansive and florid and invites us all to take part in the great dialogue of life "begun in the primeval forests and made more articulate in the course of centuries." Oakeshott welcomed all people into this conversation and gave them the tools to contribute meaningfully to the discussion.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oakeshott is as careful and painstaking a writer as you will find; and he makes considerable demands of the reader; but the effort will be rewarded. His examinations of what he calls Rationalism, "the conservative disposition" and "abridgments" of traditions, and other matters are innovative and thought-provoking. Some essays will require multiple readings, but I have yet to wrestle with one that did not yield considerable insights.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

The core of Oakeshott to me is "On Being Conservative". Here conservatism is held to be basically equivalent to the ability to enjoy the present moment at all.

The general characteristics of this disposition are not difficult to discern, although they have often been mistaken. **They centre upon a propensity to use and to enjoy what is available rather than to wish for or to look for something else; to delight in what is present rather than what was or what may be.** Reflection may bring to light an appropriate gratefulness for what is available, and consequently the acknowledgment of a gift or an inheritance from the past...

I think there's some truth to this. If you don't *ever* stop to appreciate what you have, then life is directionless. And appreciating what you have can be put into terms of appreciating your "inheritance"- the sum total of human reasons and traditions that combine to make your sense of your lifeworld. So there's something necessarily past- *and* present- oriented about conservatism.

I also think that it's important he characterizes conservatism as a "disposition", not an "ideology". He very intentionally leaves room for other dispositions to be "appropriate" to different situations. This is great because it lets you combine conservatism with other dispositions as you see fit. This is much more moderate than you'd expect from a thinker who gets called conservative. Unfortunately, all this great insight is combined with a total inability, when it comes down to specifics, to recognize situations where humanity demands that a conservative disposition be deemed inappropriate. I'll get to these in a moment.

To me, the other pivot on which Oakeshott turns is his concept of Rationalism. Rationalism is a theory about how the human mind works. It theorizes that good thought
* Is independent of and hostile to all external influences; starts from a blank slate
* Divides the world into specific ends and problems and is extremely optimistic about its ability to solve them; seeks absolute, perfect solutions, universal ideological doctrine, and certainty a la Descartes
* Is an ability that is common to all; everyone would reach the same conclusions if they thought in this way
* Can be written down into a book as abstract principles and learned; can be formulated as explicit rules; is technical
When you put things this way, it's obvious that Rationalism is not correct. No thought is actually de novo; it always depends for its very possibility of significance one's understanding of language and an entire preexisting web of belief. Oakeshott puts all this under the heading of "tradition" or "practical knowledge".

it is a characteristic of practical knowledge that it is not susceptible of [technical] formulation of this kind. Its normal expression is in a customary or traditional way of doing things, or, simply, in practice.

Anyone who insists their knowledge came from pure reason is in severe denial about the contingencies that helped them become the person they are and think the way they do. In this way I sort of run together Oakeshott's anti-Rationalism with his conservatism. Rationalism is denial of one's inheritance, and one might suppose it can only lead to sloppy thinking- you can substitute rigid ideology where thought ought to be moored to concrete historical conditions, and not even realize you are doing this. But does it actually lead to problems in practice?

So what did I mean when I said that Oakeshott had a profound inability to recognize when conservatism is inappropriate? I mean that Oakeshott speaks abstractly a lot, using the terms he defined first in "Experience and its Modes", so whenever he does mention a concrete application of his ideas, I think we have to take him very seriously. So what does Oakeshott actually think happens when you adopt a Rationalist manner of thought? There are lots of examples like this, but I'll pick one that is salient.

"Votes for Women" are "the progeny of Rationalism". In an incredibly bizarre passage in defense of tradition, Oakeshott insists

the only cogent reason to be advanced for the technical 'enfranchisement' of women was that in all or most other important respects they had already been enfranchised.

The "rational dress movement" is also obviously Rational. Oakeshott is confused why women didn't design shorts in the 1800s.

Indeed, they did make a mistake; impeded by prejudice, their minds paused at bloomers instead of running on to 'shorts' - clearly so much more complete a solution of their chosen problem.

This is a problem for Oakeshott, not for anyone else. Victorian women solved the problem they were faced with. I do understand that the purpose of this example is not to argue against rational dress but to show that Rationalism is a wrong theory about the mind- the Victorians were held back from shorts by traditional ideas about modesty. But I think we have to take Oakeshott very seriously whenever he gives a concrete example of the kinds of choices Rationalists make. If we like the results, we should agree that Rationalism is a helpful way of thinking, no matter what kinds of abstract arguments Oakeshott makes. If Rationalism enabled women to pass from dresses to bloomers, then Rationalism appears to be good.

You can argue with Oakeshott on his own terms too. Very often he ignores what you might call traditions of resistance. There's no way that women haven't been sharing among themselves ways to circumvent "modesty" and "chastity" restrictions for centuries. In such a way, the directive towards "tradition" is just as unhelpful in determinately fixing conduct as the directive towards "rationality". Which "tradition" is the tradition to be followed? It's all just talk about what we prefer. In this way I think Oakeshott fails to draw the natural conclusions of his own pragmatism. Rorty, who read and cited Oakeshott often, I think takes these extra steps.

I will admit that Oakeshott admits Rationalism has its positive moments too- he says it is good at dispelling superstitions. In fact, Oakeshott appears to endorse Rationalism at times. He is apt to try and sneak this past us by calling rational thought "the amendment of existing arrangements by exploring and pursuing what is intimated in them" or something like that. The mysterious process by which existing arrangements "intimate" amendments that surpass the arrangements themselves is left unexplained. To me this just sounds like being rational- adding something to tradition that wasn't there. So, talk about "tradition" vs. "rationalism" does real work but may not represent anything more than a fuzzy reality.

But overall I found myself moved to appreciate the space that Oakeshott carves out for conservatism. Another way of understanding this space is in terms of Oakeshott's "modes of experience". The "practical" mode is seen as a sort of primitive mode where things are understood in terms of their relevance to our desires and actions. Other modes, such as the "scientific", "historical", and "contemplative", are *achievements* in the sense that they are not required for survival and did not always rise to the surface across human history. These modes are *free* from the necessity of utility. When I first read about this division, I found it kind of artificial. I felt that Oakeshott primarily wanted to cordon off areas of human experience from the influence of "politics" (relegating politics to the "practical"), which **in effect means saying no to people's political requests**. Hannah Arendt makes a similar move in The Human Condition with her division into the domestic, social, and public spheres, and I think it serves a similar reactionary purpose.

But I've come to understand, reading Oakeshott, that he doesn't want to *require* people to participate in conversations non-politically, which is more than you can say about Arendt- she is very insistent that the public sphere be kept clean from domestic issues. He just wants to *preserve* what he sees as unique human achievements, so that people may enjoy them in the future. And I sympathize with this. His essay on poetry might occupy a central space in this collection given this line of thought. Poetry, a human achievement, is an act in the "contemplative" mode.

Poetry is a sort of truancy, a dream within the dream of life, a wild flower planted among our wheat.

Don't we want to keep this in our long conversation? "Conversation" is another word Oakeshott uses for our inheritance or tradition, and I find it charming. Oakeshott wants a "conversation, not an argument". Sometimes, you need an argument, but I get that sometimes you need a break.

As civilized human beings, we are the inheritors, neither of an inquiry about ourselves and the world, nor of an accumulating body of information, but of a conversation, begun in the primeval forests and extended and made more articulate in the course of centuries.

There has to be room for understanding the value of non-technical knowledge, room for enjoying the present moment and trying to preserve what makes it possible, and room for thought that is non-utilitarian and merely for its own sake. Reading Oakeshott, you come to understand conservatism as *cheerful* and grateful, which I didn't think was a possibility. It just has to be balanced with a realistic sense of when our humanity demands change.

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I find this collection puzzling. It presents the beginnings of a remarkably solid case for epistemological and political conservatism (understood in the English sense, in which "conservatism" is a form of cranky Whiggism). Yet I think the essays in this book contradict each other in spirit if not in letter. The view of knowledge articulated in the title essay is at odds with the view developed in "The Activity of Being an Historian" and "The Study of 'Politics' in a University." Oakeshott argues that knowledge of how to do something, and understanding of the true ends of that activity, can only be acquired through practice; but he also argues that somehow it is possible to explain the activity through research rather than practice. His insistence on making the latter claim tends to weaken the former claim, when it looks to me as if he could just as well have jettisoned the latter claim.

[Aaron Crofut · Rating 4 out of 5]

Any collection of essays is bound to have some good and some bad; some essays are brilliant, others are skimmers. In this book, the preponderance are worth the time, and a few rank up there among the best I have ever worked through, and it is for that reason I would recommend picking up Oakeshott's collection. His overall theme might best be described as Pragmatic; schemes of morality or ideology written in out authoritative books might have some value in explaining some actions, but will always be insufficient to completely guide our lives. Rather, Oakeshott points to the value of tradition, of known actions gathered more through living than book learning, as the source of morality in our lives. The value of tradition has been one pregnant in my mind for a while, but one I couldn't bring to birth; fortunately, Oakeshott did it far more beautifully than I could've hoped. Progress is one thing, but the destruction of traditions left and right endangers our ability to interact in society in an understood manner. True revolutions may be justified at times, but revolution for its own sake is to be despised.

On Being Conservative is, frankly, a must-read. It has nothing to do with the ideologies of any political party, but rather of the mindset of conserving values instead of attempting to undermine them. Even bad traditions, through the stability they bring, may be of more value than truly revolutionary change, which despite good intentions may leave the members of society without any sure footing to base their moral actions upon.

[noblethumos · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Rationalism in Politics and Other Essays" is a collection of essays and writings by the British philosopher and political theorist Michael Oakeshott. The book was first published in 1962 and is a classic work of conservative political thought.

The essays in the book cover a wide range of topics, including the nature of political philosophy, the limits of rationalism in politics, and the role of tradition in political life. Oakeshott argues that politics is a complex and unpredictable activity that cannot be reduced to a set of rational principles or technical solutions. He contends that political action is shaped by a range of factors, including culture, history, and tradition, and that these factors must be taken into account in any attempt to understand politics.

Oakeshott also criticizes what he sees as the excessive faith in reason and scientific knowledge that characterizes modern political thought. He argues that this rationalist approach ignores the complexity of human experience and fails to appreciate the importance of tradition and custom in shaping political institutions and practices.

"Rationalism in Politics and Other Essays" has been widely influential in the fields of political theory and philosophy. Oakeshott's ideas have been used to critique a range of modern political movements, including liberalism, socialism, and conservatism, and his work continues to be studied and debated by scholars and students around the world.

GPT

[Colm Gillis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oakeshott is a careful, erudite scholar who always maintains an academic aloofness about what he writes on. He has a placid, timid, style but as essayists goes he is a master of the craft. He converses ... that is what an essay should always aim to do. He uses sources sparingly but effectively. His insights are delivered a little slowly & he lacks a little bite, which suits his style to a degree but does make you wonder where his politics lie. He doesnt take a whole lot of chances but he does provoke thinking, which is the raison d'etre of any philosopher. Many of his classic essays in this collection concern rationalism. On Being Conservative is an excellent essay. Several essays are particularly challenging, especially the one on Thomas Hobbes. Overall a brilliant contribution to traditionalism and conservatism.

[Tony Gualtieri · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oakeshott is an honest writer and presents his ideas in direct if somewhat turgid prose. He advocates for tradition and experience in making political decisions rather than what he sees as dangerously proscriptive rationalism. It's an attractive position, but I think Oakeshott underestimates the duplicitousness of most politicians. They are nothing like a collection of disinterested Oxford dons! Even so, I think Oakeshott's ideas are important and these essays give a unique and appealing philosophy of political conservatism.

[Ashley Cale · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is based purely on the essays "Rationalism in Politics" and "On Being Conservative." I would really give him a 4 1/2 stars; I find his essay striking. Beautiful metaphors and analogies woven throughout. Even if you aren't conservative, I think he can convince you of the subtle instances where you are. It's an interesting question whether or not people really do like change as much as they say they do.

[Bookshark · Rating 3 out of 5]

The meandering prose makes the book longer than it needs to be and sacrifices some clarity. Rationalism in Politics is the best essay, presenting a solid conservative case against the rationalist turn in modern politics that oddly coincides with similar critiques on the far left. The Voice of Poetry in the Conversation of Mankind, a tedious meditation on art in which Oakeshott's prose is at its most florid and overwrought, is the worst of the collection.

[Mark Reece · Rating 5 out of 5]

I often enjoyed reading this book, which describes a type of idealized philosophical conservatism. It comprises a series of essays in which a number of themes predominate.

Firstly, the author might be described as a (philosophical) materialist, who believes that political doctrines are extrapolations of activity, rather than conceived a priori. Oakeshott describes modern politics are defined by ‘rationalist’ doctrines, by which he means doctrines that aim to effect change consciously sought from principles. He describes a bewildering range of doctrines as rationalist in this way, including the Beveridge report and the US constitution. By contrast, a non-rationalist conception of political doctrine would involve the acceptance of what is already taking place in practice. He gives an example of this as women’s rights. Oakeshott suggests that the term would only make sense when women already are, in a practical sense, already doing the activities that women’s rights would formally permit, rather than resulting from discussing equality in abstract terms.

In this way, Oakeshott seems to be a cultural relativist. This makes some sense, in that social change is clearly not driven by a ‘battle of ideas’. However, the implication of the doctrine seems also to suggest that conflict drives progress, which the author would be unlikely to be happy with. In the example he gives of women’s rights, women gaining de facto power only took place as a result of ‘disruptive’ behaviour that conservatives are very hostile to in practice. Moreover, I would suggest that, at least intellectually, political doctrines tend towards universalism. For example, the idea that women are incapable of voting or undertaking various types of professions, is usually defended on biological determinist grounds, rather than purely on cultural tradition. Once women in one country are afforded those rights, an example is available that tends to undercut anti-feminists everywhere.

‘Rationalism’ is described as a force that disrupts traditional arrangements of a people, their ‘heritage’. For example, Oakeshott describes the traditions of universities as being damaged by rationalist tendencies, that is, a determination to try to reorganize universities on the basis of abstract ideas, rather than by first recognizing how the institutions are currently organized, and also that how they are currently organized reflects their traditions.

This seems a striking misattribution of why institutions change. Indeed, one might suggest that Oakeshott is relying far too heavily on ‘the power of ideas’ here that he himself is critical of. Universities have changed for the worst because they have been forced to adopt to a free market model whereby academic activity is judged by how economically ‘productive’ it is, measured through dubious metrics such as how many papers academics produce, rather than a result of abstract thought. The same is true of the rest of the economy; late stage capitalism has destroyed not only numerous industries but also threatens the ability of professionals to control their working practices. For this not to be mentioned in any work of political philosophy is akin to a description of the political system of North Korea that does not mention the communist party or the military.

This is why, for all their sophistication, Oakeshott’s doctrines become silly when he talks about politics in a more concrete way. For example, at one point, he describes freedom as meaning an absence of overwhelming concentrations of power. Therefore, conservatives should avoid allowing too much power to concentrate in the hands of government, industry, or trade unions. Putting aside the obvious retort that ‘freedom’ described in this way is an abstraction of the kind that he disapproves of elsewhere, this is a type of conservatism that not only has never existed, but that could not exist.

Conservatism is about preventing too much social change, which in effect means preserving the position of people who have the most power now. Oakeshott himself says this when commenting that a ruler should uphold the rules, rather than determine ‘who gets what’. Conservative parties everywhere are heavily funded by wealthy people and corporate lobbyists because they are the most powerful groups; I know of no instance where conservatives have made it a point of policy to break-up powerful corporate interests. There was something amusing to me that the book was published by ‘Liberty Fund inc’, a US group that funds various Republican politicians in a way that shows how conservatism works in practice, which I suspect Oakeshott would consider vulgar.

Of course, Oakeshott might reply that he is only describing the ideal nature of conservatism rather than ‘actually existing conservatism’. In which case, of course, the work is an idealist one, which I think is the case.

Despite my disagreement with most of the arguments put forward, I enjoyed reading the book. The passages analyzing Hobbes were perceptive and interesting, and the essays are often beautifully written, particularly his description of politics as one in which ‘… men sail a boundless and bottomless sea’. It is a charming and inoffensive dream, which is hardly the worse thing that could be said of a work of political philosophy.

[Ross Jensen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Oakeshott’s manner of argument—especially in the title essay and the other political offerings (e.g., “On Being Conservative”)—is baffling. Consider his treatment of “Rationalism” in politics: he begins with an important and even strangely neglected distinction between “technical knowledge” (which can be explicitly formulated and more or less mechanically applied) and “practical knowledge” (which lacks the defining features of technical knowledge and is embodied in practice and tradition) before going on to define Rationalism in terms of the “sovereignty of technique” and the rejection of the very idea of practical knowledge; then, when he should be carefully developing a critique of technocracy (à la Postman, e.g.), he instead ludicrously overextends the purported explanatory reach of a “Rationalism” that can supposedly be glimpsed in everything from Cartesianism to women’s suffrage; and he concludes, accordingly, with a complete and utter rejection of what John Gray would call a “meliorist” politics in favor of a win-by-default for the good ol’ status quo.

Incidentally, it is difficult not to feel something sinister at work in the “conservative” capacity to reimagine naked plutocracy in terms of the carrying on of some noble political art or tradition. Perhaps the English aristocracy were once more convincing in their duplicities?

Anyway, for a far superior treatment of these issues, see G.A. Cohen’s important essay “Rescuing Conservatism.”

[AimanFasil · Rating 2 out of 5]

I reached for this book to acquaint myself with the intellectual current labelled conservatism.

Ironically enough, the best part of the book is Oakeshott's introduction to Hobbes. Oakeshott's idiosyncratically conservative critique of contemporary philosophical and political rationalism (which is the focus of the remainder of the book) makes sense and may be approached as a kind of therapy for us, the moderns. Alas, compared to other "conservative" thinkers and critics of modernity such as Alasdair MacIntyre or Leo Strauss, Oakeshott reads a bit shallow with his prose being unnecessarily long-winded.

The book was neither a source of disappointment, nor of delight.

[Charlie Key · Rating 5 out of 5]

Finally got through all the essays in this collection for a class. Not really changed my perspective that Oakeshott had landed on coherent and fully formed ideas that would later be re-expressed, in far more complex terms, by postmodernists. Where I find Oakeshott so valuable is that he does not just stop at this critique of rationalism and over-confident claims to truth, but goes one step further and explores how society must function when our individual 'modes of experience' are so different.

[Mark Mateo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some days a 3/5, others a 5/5. A political philosopher who discards the public (writ-large) can and should throw the student for a loop.

[Will S · Rating 2 out of 5]

There are a couple of interesting (though not particularly original) essays in an otherwise weak collection.

[Nita]

I read selections in college but I don't remember a thing (who was this person who made these underlines and margin commentary?!) so am re-reading.

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

Both the title essay and "On being conservative" from part four are not to be missed.

[Sobhan Yousefi · Rating 4 out of 5]

مقدمه‌ی ترجمه‌ی این کتاب از نشر نگاه معاصر بسیار درخشانه

[Craig Bolton]

Rationalism in Politics and other essays by Michael Oakeshott (1991)

[Mike Horne · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is some hard reading. Oakeshott starts from the beginning and does not make it easy. I enjoyed his essays on Hobbes--I am going to go back and read the Leviathan again. This will take a second read.