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Killing Time: The Autobiography of Paul Feyerabend
Killing Time is the story of Paul Feyerabend's life. Finished only weeks before his death in 1994, it is the self-portrait of one of this century's most original and influential intellectuals.
Trained in physics and astronomy, Feyerabend was best known as a philosopher of science. But he emphatically was not a builder of theories or a writer of rules. Rather, his fame was in powerful, plain-spoken critiques of "big" science and "big" philosophy. Feyerabend gave voice to a radically democratic "epistemological anarchism:" he argued forcefully that there is not one way to knowledge, but many principled paths; not one truth or one rationality but different, competing pictures of the workings of the world. "Anything goes," he said about the ways of science in his most famous book, Against Method. And he meant it.
Here, for the first time, Feyerabend traces the trajectory that led him from an isolated, lower-middle-class childhood in Vienna to the height of international academic success. He writes of his experience in the German army on the Russian front, where three bullets left him crippled, impotent, and in lifelong pain. He recalls his promising talent as an operatic tenor (a lifelong passion), his encounters with everyone from Martin Buber to Bertolt Brecht, innumerable love affairs, four marriages, and a career so rich he once held tenured positions at four universities at the same time.
Although not written as an intellectual autobiography, Killing Time sketches the people, ideas, and conflicts of sixty years. Feyerabend writes frankly of complicated relationships with his mentor Karl Popper and his friend and frequent opponent Imre Lakatos, and his reactions to a growing reputation as the "worst enemy of science."
Trained in physics and astronomy, Feyerabend was best known as a philosopher of science. But he emphatically was not a builder of theories or a writer of rules. Rather, his fame was in powerful, plain-spoken critiques of "big" science and "big" philosophy. Feyerabend gave voice to a radically democratic "epistemological anarchism:" he argued forcefully that there is not one way to knowledge, but many principled paths; not one truth or one rationality but different, competing pictures of the workings of the world. "Anything goes," he said about the ways of science in his most famous book, Against Method. And he meant it.
Here, for the first time, Feyerabend traces the trajectory that led him from an isolated, lower-middle-class childhood in Vienna to the height of international academic success. He writes of his experience in the German army on the Russian front, where three bullets left him crippled, impotent, and in lifelong pain. He recalls his promising talent as an operatic tenor (a lifelong passion), his encounters with everyone from Martin Buber to Bertolt Brecht, innumerable love affairs, four marriages, and a career so rich he once held tenured positions at four universities at the same time.
Although not written as an intellectual autobiography, Killing Time sketches the people, ideas, and conflicts of sixty years. Feyerabend writes frankly of complicated relationships with his mentor Karl Popper and his friend and frequent opponent Imre Lakatos, and his reactions to a growing reputation as the "worst enemy of science."
203 pages, Paperback
First published May 15, 1995
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1024 people want to read
About the author
Paul Karl Feyerabend
93 books284 followersPaul Karl Feyerabend was an Austrian-born philosopher of science best known for his work as a professor of philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley, where he worked for three decades (1958–1989).
His life was a peripatetic one, as he lived at various times in England, the United States, New Zealand, Italy, Germany, and finally Switzerland. His major works include Against Method (published in 1975), Science in a Free Society (published in 1978) and Farewell to Reason (a collection of papers published in 1987). Feyerabend became famous for his purportedly anarchistic view of science and his rejection of the existence of universal methodological rules. He is an influential figure in the philosophy of science, and also in the sociology of scientific knowledge.
His life was a peripatetic one, as he lived at various times in England, the United States, New Zealand, Italy, Germany, and finally Switzerland. His major works include Against Method (published in 1975), Science in a Free Society (published in 1978) and Farewell to Reason (a collection of papers published in 1987). Feyerabend became famous for his purportedly anarchistic view of science and his rejection of the existence of universal methodological rules. He is an influential figure in the philosophy of science, and also in the sociology of scientific knowledge.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
July 9, 2017
I had been planning to devote this afternoon to catching up on urgent work-related things, but in the event I spent it reading Feyerabend's wonderful autobiography. Looking at my 'read' shelf - who says Goodreads is useless? - I had to go back to last November and Michael Ende's Jim Knopf und Lukas der Lokomotivführer before I could find something that had been equally hard to put down.
I reviewed Jim Knopf as a Pippi Långstrump parody, and now that I think about it there's more than a little Pippi in Feyerabend. The same captivating voice, the same lack of respect for stultifying authority, the same ambiguous attitude to conventional notions of "truth" and "reality", the same obstinate refusal to grow up and join the miserable adult world. If you loved Astrid Lindgren as a child, you should read Killing Time. It's inspiring.
I reviewed Jim Knopf as a Pippi Långstrump parody, and now that I think about it there's more than a little Pippi in Feyerabend. The same captivating voice, the same lack of respect for stultifying authority, the same ambiguous attitude to conventional notions of "truth" and "reality", the same obstinate refusal to grow up and join the miserable adult world. If you loved Astrid Lindgren as a child, you should read Killing Time. It's inspiring.
July 14, 2017
Much has been written about Feyerabend. My two cents' worth.
A striking aspect of this book is that philosophers and scientists, even (or perhaps specially?) the greatest of them walked hand in hand. They listened to each other. Am I incorrect to say that now there is a complete schism? It's all very well to blame the philosophers who generally avoid science because it's too hard.
But an equally fair generalisation is that scientists now are culturally ignorant. They don't read, they don't go to theatre or engage in philosophical argument. They don't even do science. They have tiny fragmented parts to play in something which might or might not have a big picture. They refuse to be engaged on some other tiny bit even if it sits right next to theirs, or to the small big picture. That, at any rate, is my overall impression and needless to say there are obvious exceptions, at least on the goodreads site. Clearly if they believe that they can do a good job of being a scientist with nothing even remotely approaching a world view, they are scarcely going to see any advantage in an interdisciplinary education or way of engaging with the world.
Feyerabend is enormously well-read and seems to read anything. I suspect if he seems like an odd thinker it is partly because he takes from so many places. Not much, I'd say, from feminism. I note that he mentions many lays in this book, none of them are attributed with a surname. Why? If it were to protect their anonymity, he could at least have given his wives surnames since they are no chance to remain unknown.
rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpre...
A striking aspect of this book is that philosophers and scientists, even (or perhaps specially?) the greatest of them walked hand in hand. They listened to each other. Am I incorrect to say that now there is a complete schism? It's all very well to blame the philosophers who generally avoid science because it's too hard.
But an equally fair generalisation is that scientists now are culturally ignorant. They don't read, they don't go to theatre or engage in philosophical argument. They don't even do science. They have tiny fragmented parts to play in something which might or might not have a big picture. They refuse to be engaged on some other tiny bit even if it sits right next to theirs, or to the small big picture. That, at any rate, is my overall impression and needless to say there are obvious exceptions, at least on the goodreads site. Clearly if they believe that they can do a good job of being a scientist with nothing even remotely approaching a world view, they are scarcely going to see any advantage in an interdisciplinary education or way of engaging with the world.
Feyerabend is enormously well-read and seems to read anything. I suspect if he seems like an odd thinker it is partly because he takes from so many places. Not much, I'd say, from feminism. I note that he mentions many lays in this book, none of them are attributed with a surname. Why? If it were to protect their anonymity, he could at least have given his wives surnames since they are no chance to remain unknown.
rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpre...
February 1, 2011
This is a slim volume, barely 200 pages, but it charts an awesome spiritual odyssee. Paul Feyerabend - enfant terrible of late 20th century philosophy - looked ruthlessly in the mirror and painted an unadorned picture of himself. At the end of his life, he painfully recognised that its course had been shaped by absences, rather than by specific events or, for that matter, ideas: absence of purpose, of content, of a focused interest, absence of moral character, absence of warmth and of social relationships.
Only when Feyerabend approached the final fifteen years of his life and settled as a professor in the philosophy of science in Zürich - after having lectured four decades at Anglo-American universities - he started to relax. And eventually, a woman came and set things right. In 1983 he met the Italian physicist Grazia Borrini for the first time. Five years later they married. His relationship with Mrs. Borrini must have been the single most important event in Feyerabend's life. Reading his autobiography is an experience akin to listening to Sibelius' tone-poem 'Nightride and Sunrise': after 1983 the colours change dramatically and his prose is infused with warmth and immense gratefulness. It is a delight to read his rapt eulogies on the companion of the last decade of his life, on his most fortunate discovery of true love and friendship. Indeed, although Feyerabend is not interested in 'spoiling' his autobiography with an extensive reiteration of his philosophical positions, there are a few messages he clearly wants to drive home. The central role in life of love and friendship is one of them. Without these "even the noblest achievements and the most fundamental principles remain pale, empty and dangerous" (p. 173). Yet, Feyerabend clearly wants us to see that this love "is a gift, not an achievement" (p. 173). It is something which is subjected neither to the intellect, nor to the will, but is the result of a fortunate constellation of circumstances.
The same applies to the acquisition of 'moral character'. This too "cannot be created by argument, 'education' or an act of will." (p.174). Yet, it is only in the context of a moral character - something which Feyerabend confesses to having only acquired a trace of after a long life and the good fortune of having met Grazia - that ethical categories such as guilt, responsibility and obligation acquire a meaning. "They are empty words, even obstacles, when it is lacking." (p.174) (Consequently, he did not think himself responsible for his behavior during the Nazi period).
Contrary to someone like Karl Kraus, Feyerabend seems to think that men, at least as long as they have not acquired moral character, are morally neutral, whilst ideas are not. A question which remains, of course, is who is to be held responsible for intellectual aberrations and intentional obfuscation if this character is only to be acquired by an act of grace, an accidental constellation of circumstances.
There is an enigmatic passage in the autobiography which may shed light on this important problem. After having seen a performance of Shakespeare's Richard II, in which the protagonist undoes himself of all his royal insigna, thereby relinquishing not just "a social role but his very individuality, those features of his character that separated him from other", Feyerabend notes that the "dark, unwieldy, clumsy, helpless creature that appeared seemed freer and safer, despite prison and death, than what he had left behind." (p. 172) It prompts him to the insight that "the sum of our works and/or deeds does not constitute a life. These . . . are like debris on an ocean . . . They may even form a solid platform, thus creating an illusion of universality, security, and permanence. Yet the security and the permanence can be swept away by the powers that permitted them to arise." (p. 172) These ideas do not exactly solve the question about moral responsibility, but they do suggest a tragic 'Lebensgefühl' - an acknowledgment of the fact that the spheres of reason, order and justice are terribly limited and that no progress in our science and technical resources will change their relevance - which seems to underpin Feyerabends very earthbound philosophy.
Only when Feyerabend approached the final fifteen years of his life and settled as a professor in the philosophy of science in Zürich - after having lectured four decades at Anglo-American universities - he started to relax. And eventually, a woman came and set things right. In 1983 he met the Italian physicist Grazia Borrini for the first time. Five years later they married. His relationship with Mrs. Borrini must have been the single most important event in Feyerabend's life. Reading his autobiography is an experience akin to listening to Sibelius' tone-poem 'Nightride and Sunrise': after 1983 the colours change dramatically and his prose is infused with warmth and immense gratefulness. It is a delight to read his rapt eulogies on the companion of the last decade of his life, on his most fortunate discovery of true love and friendship. Indeed, although Feyerabend is not interested in 'spoiling' his autobiography with an extensive reiteration of his philosophical positions, there are a few messages he clearly wants to drive home. The central role in life of love and friendship is one of them. Without these "even the noblest achievements and the most fundamental principles remain pale, empty and dangerous" (p. 173). Yet, Feyerabend clearly wants us to see that this love "is a gift, not an achievement" (p. 173). It is something which is subjected neither to the intellect, nor to the will, but is the result of a fortunate constellation of circumstances.
The same applies to the acquisition of 'moral character'. This too "cannot be created by argument, 'education' or an act of will." (p.174). Yet, it is only in the context of a moral character - something which Feyerabend confesses to having only acquired a trace of after a long life and the good fortune of having met Grazia - that ethical categories such as guilt, responsibility and obligation acquire a meaning. "They are empty words, even obstacles, when it is lacking." (p.174) (Consequently, he did not think himself responsible for his behavior during the Nazi period).
Contrary to someone like Karl Kraus, Feyerabend seems to think that men, at least as long as they have not acquired moral character, are morally neutral, whilst ideas are not. A question which remains, of course, is who is to be held responsible for intellectual aberrations and intentional obfuscation if this character is only to be acquired by an act of grace, an accidental constellation of circumstances.
There is an enigmatic passage in the autobiography which may shed light on this important problem. After having seen a performance of Shakespeare's Richard II, in which the protagonist undoes himself of all his royal insigna, thereby relinquishing not just "a social role but his very individuality, those features of his character that separated him from other", Feyerabend notes that the "dark, unwieldy, clumsy, helpless creature that appeared seemed freer and safer, despite prison and death, than what he had left behind." (p. 172) It prompts him to the insight that "the sum of our works and/or deeds does not constitute a life. These . . . are like debris on an ocean . . . They may even form a solid platform, thus creating an illusion of universality, security, and permanence. Yet the security and the permanence can be swept away by the powers that permitted them to arise." (p. 172) These ideas do not exactly solve the question about moral responsibility, but they do suggest a tragic 'Lebensgefühl' - an acknowledgment of the fact that the spheres of reason, order and justice are terribly limited and that no progress in our science and technical resources will change their relevance - which seems to underpin Feyerabends very earthbound philosophy.
July 14, 2007
My favorite anti-philosopher, the archetypal skeptic of the 20th century. His autobiography is a lark, chock full of intellectual passion and high spirits.
April 27, 2013
Anything goes in this brilliant autobiography that reads like a novel.
September 12, 2011
There are a lot of books with the same title as this, but it's doubtful that many of them are as funny or crazy as this author. Part opera buff, part philosophical buffoon (but in the best sense of buffoon: a Diogenes of the 20th Century), Feyerabend is all over the place, not only in his ideas but in his academic career and personal life. I first read this about 15 years ago for a school project and stumbled across it this past week at the Strand. Thumbing through it, I forgot how funny Feyerabend is, particularly regarding his childhood. One of my favorite anecdotes: upon seeing businessmen frantically running with briefcases in tow for a trolley and learning that they were "going to work" and then seeing an old man sitting on a park bench, basking in the sun and staring at flowers who was "retired," the young Feyerabend knew what he wanted to be when he grew up—retired. There are plenty of other great anecdotes and caustic comments here, though I also have a feeling that there are even more war stories out there. Two annoying tics of the book are the incessant name-dropping as well as the sudden appearance of people who are clearly instrumental in Feyerabend's life at specific moments, but never properly introduced to the reader. For that, I wouldn't recommend this to people unfamiliar with Feyerabend or philosophy of science in general. The final chapters are melancholic, but give a sense of what humans should be striving for: a life without systematization, beyond "rationalism" and other obfuscations of the world—a life where "anything goes," as Feyerabend said of science's proper mode.
August 22, 2021
Fantástica.
Se lee de un solo golpe, no sientes siquiera el hecho de que haya sido un filósofo.
Con sinceridad, sin querer ocultar su torpeza o su malicia.
Desdeñoso de la autoridad y de los egos, quizás errado quizás incompleto, es lo de menos.
La dosis perfectas de chismes e historias de familia, sin ocultar sus arrepentimientos o envidias.
A la altura de lo más grandes, se despide del mundo dando amor.
Incluso las historias de sus sueños, algo tan desdeñado por la filosofía, nos narra un Carnap que habla bien del psicoanálisis.
Buen viaje maestro, donde estés espero me visites en algún sueño.
Se lee de un solo golpe, no sientes siquiera el hecho de que haya sido un filósofo.
Con sinceridad, sin querer ocultar su torpeza o su malicia.
Desdeñoso de la autoridad y de los egos, quizás errado quizás incompleto, es lo de menos.
La dosis perfectas de chismes e historias de familia, sin ocultar sus arrepentimientos o envidias.
A la altura de lo más grandes, se despide del mundo dando amor.
Incluso las historias de sus sueños, algo tan desdeñado por la filosofía, nos narra un Carnap que habla bien del psicoanálisis.
Buen viaje maestro, donde estés espero me visites en algún sueño.
November 14, 2020
Paul Feyerabend é uma grande inspiração para mim desde sempre. Brilhante, incompreendido e profundamente céptico. Desconstruía de uma forma prodigiosa os edifícios dogmáticos. Sempre gostei de iconoclastas, no sentido literal e figurado da palavra. Esta autobiografia é incrível, um auto-retrato sincero e emotivo deste "enfant terrible" das ciências e da filosofia.
Muito bem escrito, muito fiel a Feyerabend. Sabe a pouco, contudo. Tenho a certeza que ficou tudo por dizer.
Muito bom.
Muito bem escrito, muito fiel a Feyerabend. Sabe a pouco, contudo. Tenho a certeza que ficou tudo por dizer.
Muito bom.
November 22, 2012
A charmingly anecdotal, if somewhat scattered, autobiography of the great philosopher of science whose name has become synonymous with a dangerous anarchic attack on objective standards. (Just the kind I like.)
The best parts are the stories of Second World War, and reflections on his career after writing "Against Method."
The book ends with the author's death, which might explain some of the lack of "finesse" in its structure; the book would have benefited from re-editing and re-writing had the author lived on another year.
But even then, the stories, perspectives and anecdotes, haphazardly gathered as they are (covering all-too-summarily a long life and career in philosophy, war, love and the arts), are fascinating and diverse enough to make up for the book's lack of structural cohesion. It's not a great book, nor is it greatly written, strangely enough. But it contains little beautiful gems that make up for its rough spots. And, if we want to be generous, the lack of cohesion fits nicely with the author's stated view that no one single perspective or unified narrative can capture the complexity of life, truth, objectivity. In that sense it's a nicely fittingly anarchic book about a proudly, principally anarchic man.
The book, then, feels sometimes like a book-long diary entry, a series of illuminating vignettes rather than one overarching story. The narrative, at the same time, is strangely disassociated, even "cold." Where is the author? Sometimes his life seems like a series of people, dates and places. But it picks up pace towards the end and even approaches human warmth when the discussion turns to Feyerabend's last marriage and the deeper purposes of life. It is in its descriptions of life of a man of great intellect in war and in the grips of disease, that the book soars.
As for substance, some of the tropes a bit obvious - like the decades-old and still-continuing downplaying, that is both mean-spirited and pointless, of Popper's influence on his own thinking (WHAT went wrong there to cause such a bitter rift?), or his equally childish disdain for Derrida - but on the whole, Feyerabend comes off as a humble and complex figure who doesn't take himself too seriously.
(PS. But why the hatred of Popper and Derrida? Apparently anybody who comes too close to his own territory - Popper, Derrida - is a dangerous rival who must be opposed, either for self-protection, or perhaps because he externalizes his guilt over his own views onto "those OTHER fellow travellers"? Perhaps he wants to be the King of the Hill? Or perhaps he genuinely feels concerned that the small differences DO matter (Popper on substance, Derrida on style) and need to be addressed by "an insider", someone who STANDS in a POSITION to CORRECT dangerous RADICALISM - that isn't his own, that conflicts with his own? Whatever the reason, it's a shame these issues aren't explored self-critically in his autobiography. Again, I wish he had had more time to finish the book.... What wonders deeper reflection would have brought. Or perhaps he would never have been able to do it. It's a shame, in a way. We all have our blind spots. But it's a real weakness in autobiography to leave them unchecked.)
All criticism aside, I recommend this book to anyone interested in a) philosophy, b) intellectual life of the 20th century, c) autobiographies. It's a short book and easy to read: a good investment for the time it takes to finish. It delights, puzzles and humours. It leaves a mark. Just like the man. A fun read and a fun man. R.I.P.
The best parts are the stories of Second World War, and reflections on his career after writing "Against Method."
The book ends with the author's death, which might explain some of the lack of "finesse" in its structure; the book would have benefited from re-editing and re-writing had the author lived on another year.
But even then, the stories, perspectives and anecdotes, haphazardly gathered as they are (covering all-too-summarily a long life and career in philosophy, war, love and the arts), are fascinating and diverse enough to make up for the book's lack of structural cohesion. It's not a great book, nor is it greatly written, strangely enough. But it contains little beautiful gems that make up for its rough spots. And, if we want to be generous, the lack of cohesion fits nicely with the author's stated view that no one single perspective or unified narrative can capture the complexity of life, truth, objectivity. In that sense it's a nicely fittingly anarchic book about a proudly, principally anarchic man.
The book, then, feels sometimes like a book-long diary entry, a series of illuminating vignettes rather than one overarching story. The narrative, at the same time, is strangely disassociated, even "cold." Where is the author? Sometimes his life seems like a series of people, dates and places. But it picks up pace towards the end and even approaches human warmth when the discussion turns to Feyerabend's last marriage and the deeper purposes of life. It is in its descriptions of life of a man of great intellect in war and in the grips of disease, that the book soars.
As for substance, some of the tropes a bit obvious - like the decades-old and still-continuing downplaying, that is both mean-spirited and pointless, of Popper's influence on his own thinking (WHAT went wrong there to cause such a bitter rift?), or his equally childish disdain for Derrida - but on the whole, Feyerabend comes off as a humble and complex figure who doesn't take himself too seriously.
(PS. But why the hatred of Popper and Derrida? Apparently anybody who comes too close to his own territory - Popper, Derrida - is a dangerous rival who must be opposed, either for self-protection, or perhaps because he externalizes his guilt over his own views onto "those OTHER fellow travellers"? Perhaps he wants to be the King of the Hill? Or perhaps he genuinely feels concerned that the small differences DO matter (Popper on substance, Derrida on style) and need to be addressed by "an insider", someone who STANDS in a POSITION to CORRECT dangerous RADICALISM - that isn't his own, that conflicts with his own? Whatever the reason, it's a shame these issues aren't explored self-critically in his autobiography. Again, I wish he had had more time to finish the book.... What wonders deeper reflection would have brought. Or perhaps he would never have been able to do it. It's a shame, in a way. We all have our blind spots. But it's a real weakness in autobiography to leave them unchecked.)
All criticism aside, I recommend this book to anyone interested in a) philosophy, b) intellectual life of the 20th century, c) autobiographies. It's a short book and easy to read: a good investment for the time it takes to finish. It delights, puzzles and humours. It leaves a mark. Just like the man. A fun read and a fun man. R.I.P.
November 22, 2017
Inspiring philosopher. The last 50 pages didn't do much for me. A nice mixture of his personal life, digressions to philosophy of science, literature, theater, the war and music. A homo universalis with an interesting outlook on science and an even more interesting biography.
January 2, 2008
feyerabend was an iconoclastic philosopher and this memoir really cuts to the heart of a lot of interesting philosophical conundrums via the story of his life.
March 10, 2012
I'm not a fan of autobiographies usually, but this is one of the most charming, brilliant books I've read.
November 30, 2023
Cómo me cae bien este este biego
March 4, 2015
Lo leí en español.
Me encanta la filosofía de Feyerabend, me parece una persona excéntrica, apasionada y sin pelos en la lengua.
No pude no llorar con el final.
Me encanta la filosofía de Feyerabend, me parece una persona excéntrica, apasionada y sin pelos en la lengua.
No pude no llorar con el final.
November 24, 2021
I enjoy biographies, and this one I found especially good. Feyerabend seemed like a cool and nice guy, RIP.
January 10, 2024
Having read this, I'm ready to pick up Against Method again. I dropped it to read this autpbiography, and I'm glad I did. Feyerabend is just a really weird guy, I've never read something so idiosyncratic before. It's helpful to read this to understand how he arrives at his ideas. As an outline of a life story, this book does an okay job, but doesn't linger on single subjects for very long. Instead it hops to and fro a lot, which I enjoyed. Especially seeing him intertwine his love for singing and performing into his work is a lot of fun, and explains how his work came to be so ubique.
March 20, 2021
Фейерабенд дикий, конечно:
* Воевал на стороне нацистов, но в нацистскую партию не вступил
* Получил ранение на войне и стал калекой и импотентом, но потом легко несколько раз женился
* Выступал ярким критиком академической системы, но его звали преподавать в лучшие вузы мира
* Хотел стать певцом, а стал философом
* Писал статьи, чтобы разобраться самому, а стал известным
Читать это крайне увлекательно. Хоть и странно.
* Воевал на стороне нацистов, но в нацистскую партию не вступил
* Получил ранение на войне и стал калекой и импотентом, но потом легко несколько раз женился
* Выступал ярким критиком академической системы, но его звали преподавать в лучшие вузы мира
* Хотел стать певцом, а стал философом
* Писал статьи, чтобы разобраться самому, а стал известным
Читать это крайне увлекательно. Хоть и странно.
March 4, 2019
An incredible life whose protagonist still doesn't seem to know quite what to make of it.
October 10, 2024
Feyerabend relata que solicitó estudiar con Wittgenstein pero que este murió, y así fue como siguió sus estudios con Popper, aquel profesor refutado y admirado por el filosofo vienés.
¿Que habrá sido de Feyerabend si Wittgenstein no muriera?
No lo sabremos, pero con esta autobiografía podemos conocer detalles íntimos de Feyerabend que poco a poco formaron su pensamiento y lo más importante su vida.
Desde los relatos de su familia, su infancia y adolescencia, sus episodios intensos con su madre y padre, sus amantes, y todas aquellas anécdotas de la academia que lo catapultaron a ser uno de los filósofos de la ciencia más renombrados del siglo XX.
Libro recomendado para quienes desean conocer los detalles tras bambalinas de aquel filósofo que siempre quiso ser actor.
¿Que habrá sido de Feyerabend si Wittgenstein no muriera?
No lo sabremos, pero con esta autobiografía podemos conocer detalles íntimos de Feyerabend que poco a poco formaron su pensamiento y lo más importante su vida.
Desde los relatos de su familia, su infancia y adolescencia, sus episodios intensos con su madre y padre, sus amantes, y todas aquellas anécdotas de la academia que lo catapultaron a ser uno de los filósofos de la ciencia más renombrados del siglo XX.
Libro recomendado para quienes desean conocer los detalles tras bambalinas de aquel filósofo que siempre quiso ser actor.
March 23, 2014
I wouldn't care about his book if I hadn't already really liked Feyerabend's work more generally (and even more so his influence on others, notably Ian Hacking). However, having now read it, I am very happy I did so. I still would have difficulty recommending it without knowing that someone was already interested in Feyerabend, simply because I think it's diffuse enough in its points and sloppy enough in its editing (characters are often mentioned without having yet being introduced… this is especially the case as far as most of his dalliances/partners go).
It would benefit from a new edition that had a timeline of where he was, and when. As well as who he was dating at the time and when the different events happened. The jumping across times and topics are quintessentially Feyerabend but that doesn't make it any easier to follow.
Also it's index is rather awesome.
Now that I think of it an annotated copy of his could be a decent introduction to the history of philosophy in the later 20th century, but currently those resources are lacking.
If anyone who has the ability(legally and practically) to make such an annotated copy happen is ever reading this review — I already have a good deal of the notes that would need to be added and would be happy to complete those notes.
Cheers,
:€
It would benefit from a new edition that had a timeline of where he was, and when. As well as who he was dating at the time and when the different events happened. The jumping across times and topics are quintessentially Feyerabend but that doesn't make it any easier to follow.
Also it's index is rather awesome.
Now that I think of it an annotated copy of his could be a decent introduction to the history of philosophy in the later 20th century, but currently those resources are lacking.
If anyone who has the ability(legally and practically) to make such an annotated copy happen is ever reading this review — I already have a good deal of the notes that would need to be added and would be happy to complete those notes.
Cheers,
:€
October 19, 2024
THE CONTROVERSIAL PHILOSOPHER OF SCIENCE TELLS OF HIS LIFE CONTROVERSIES AND ITS ENDING
Paul Karl Feyerabend (1924-1994) was an Austrian-born philosopher of science who taught philosophy at UC Berkeley.
This 1995 book was finished only weeks before Feyerabend’s death. He wrote in the first chapter, “A few years ago I became interested in my ancestors and the early years of my life. The immediate reason was the fiftieth anniversary of Austria’s 1938 unification with Germany. I watched the events from Switzerland, where I happened to be teaching at the time… I thought a personal report might be a better way of looking at history. I was also rather curious… I had almost forgotten my years in the Third Reich, first as a student, then as a soldier in France, Yugoslavia, Russia, Poland…” Later, he adds, “I began my autobiography, mainly to recall my time in the German army and I way I had experienced national socialism. This proved a good way of explaining how my ‘ideas’ were intertwined with the rest of my life.” (Pg. 179)
He recalls of his time in the army, “Around that time I also considered joining the SS. Why? Because an SS man looked better and spoke better and walked better than ordinary mortals; aesthetics, not ideology, was my reason. (I remember feeling a strong erotic undercurrent while discussing the matter with a fellow soldier. During battle I often forgot to take cover. It was not out of bravery---I am a great coward and easily frightened---but out of excitement…” (Pg. 39)
He explains, “During the Nazi period I paid little attention to the talk about Jews, communism, the Bolshevik threat; I did not accept it, I did not oppose it; the words came and went, apparently without effect. Years later I had many Jewish friends… as a matter of fact, almost all the friends I have made in my profession are Jews, according to the Nazi definition. I didn’t know that when our friendship started. When I found out, mostly by accident, I felt that something rather special was happening. ‘He is a Jew, and he is a good friend of mine’---it was like eating forbidden fruit… Feeling differently about different faces, groups, communities seems to be more humane than a humanitarianism that evens out all individual and group idiosyncrasies.” (Pg. 53)
He admits, “It was there that I heard of Germany’s surrender… I was relieved, but I also had a great sense of loss. I had not accepted the aims of Nazism---I hardly knew what they were---and I was much too contrary to be loyal to anything. Nor did I feel betrayed, or misused, as did many Vietnam Veterans… So where did this sense of loss come from? I don’t know. What I do know is that great hopes, misplaced efforts, tremendous sacrifices were soon regarded with hatred and contempt. But were not hatred, contempt, and a desire for justice the right attitude toward ideas and actions that had caused and prolonged an atrocious war and led to the murder of millions of innocent people? Of course they were---but the trouble is that the distribution of good and evil is not easy to figure out, at least not for me.” (Pg. 55)
During the student movement of the sixties, he recalls, “I thought a student strike was rather silly… I would have stopped lecturing if my students had demanded it, but when I asked them, some said yes, some said no---and we spent the rest of the time debating the issue. Eventually I moved off campus, first into students’ quarters, then into a church. Now the administration got on my back: teachers were supposed to remain in the assigned lecture halls. Consulting the regulations I found no such rule, and continued as before. For some of my colleagues, John Searle especially, this was the last straw; they wanted to have me fired. When they realized how much paperwork was involved, they gave up. Red tape does have its advantages.” (Pg. 126)
He states, “I led a full life. Yet on May 10, 1967, I wrote in my notebook: ‘So one day passes after another and it is not clear why one should live.’ Sentiments such as this have been faithful companions in my adventures.” (Pg. 138)
He says of his book ‘Against Method,’ “AM is not a book, it is a collage. It contains descriptions, analyses, arguments that I had published, in almost the same words, ten, fifteen, even twenty years earlier.” (Pg. 139)
He reveals, “Gradually I became acquainted with ‘intellectuals.’ They constitute a very special community… This community now started taking a slight interest in me: it lifted me up to its own eye level, took a brief look at me, and dropped me again. After making me appear more important than I ever thought I was, it enumerated my shortcomings and put me back in my place. That really confused me… I grew rather depressed. The depression stayed with me for over a year… now I was alone, sick with some unknown affliction; my private life was in a mess, and I was without a defense. I often wished I had never written that fu_ing book.” (Pg. 146-147)
He concludes the book, “I am partially paralyzed, in a hospital, with an inoperable brain tumor. I would not want to die now that I have finally got my act together---in my private as well as my professional life… Grazia is with me in the hospital, which is a great joy, and she fills the room with light. I one way I am ready to depart, despite all the things I still would like to do, but in another way I am sad to leave this beautiful world behind, especially Grazia, whom I would have liked to accompany for a few more years… Whatever happens now, our small family can live forever---Grazia, me, and our love. That is what I would like to happen, not intellectual survival but the survival of love.” (Pg. 180-181)
For those interested in philosophers’ biographies, or interested in the development of Feyerabend’s thought, this book will be of keen interest.
Paul Karl Feyerabend (1924-1994) was an Austrian-born philosopher of science who taught philosophy at UC Berkeley.
This 1995 book was finished only weeks before Feyerabend’s death. He wrote in the first chapter, “A few years ago I became interested in my ancestors and the early years of my life. The immediate reason was the fiftieth anniversary of Austria’s 1938 unification with Germany. I watched the events from Switzerland, where I happened to be teaching at the time… I thought a personal report might be a better way of looking at history. I was also rather curious… I had almost forgotten my years in the Third Reich, first as a student, then as a soldier in France, Yugoslavia, Russia, Poland…” Later, he adds, “I began my autobiography, mainly to recall my time in the German army and I way I had experienced national socialism. This proved a good way of explaining how my ‘ideas’ were intertwined with the rest of my life.” (Pg. 179)
He recalls of his time in the army, “Around that time I also considered joining the SS. Why? Because an SS man looked better and spoke better and walked better than ordinary mortals; aesthetics, not ideology, was my reason. (I remember feeling a strong erotic undercurrent while discussing the matter with a fellow soldier. During battle I often forgot to take cover. It was not out of bravery---I am a great coward and easily frightened---but out of excitement…” (Pg. 39)
He explains, “During the Nazi period I paid little attention to the talk about Jews, communism, the Bolshevik threat; I did not accept it, I did not oppose it; the words came and went, apparently without effect. Years later I had many Jewish friends… as a matter of fact, almost all the friends I have made in my profession are Jews, according to the Nazi definition. I didn’t know that when our friendship started. When I found out, mostly by accident, I felt that something rather special was happening. ‘He is a Jew, and he is a good friend of mine’---it was like eating forbidden fruit… Feeling differently about different faces, groups, communities seems to be more humane than a humanitarianism that evens out all individual and group idiosyncrasies.” (Pg. 53)
He admits, “It was there that I heard of Germany’s surrender… I was relieved, but I also had a great sense of loss. I had not accepted the aims of Nazism---I hardly knew what they were---and I was much too contrary to be loyal to anything. Nor did I feel betrayed, or misused, as did many Vietnam Veterans… So where did this sense of loss come from? I don’t know. What I do know is that great hopes, misplaced efforts, tremendous sacrifices were soon regarded with hatred and contempt. But were not hatred, contempt, and a desire for justice the right attitude toward ideas and actions that had caused and prolonged an atrocious war and led to the murder of millions of innocent people? Of course they were---but the trouble is that the distribution of good and evil is not easy to figure out, at least not for me.” (Pg. 55)
During the student movement of the sixties, he recalls, “I thought a student strike was rather silly… I would have stopped lecturing if my students had demanded it, but when I asked them, some said yes, some said no---and we spent the rest of the time debating the issue. Eventually I moved off campus, first into students’ quarters, then into a church. Now the administration got on my back: teachers were supposed to remain in the assigned lecture halls. Consulting the regulations I found no such rule, and continued as before. For some of my colleagues, John Searle especially, this was the last straw; they wanted to have me fired. When they realized how much paperwork was involved, they gave up. Red tape does have its advantages.” (Pg. 126)
He states, “I led a full life. Yet on May 10, 1967, I wrote in my notebook: ‘So one day passes after another and it is not clear why one should live.’ Sentiments such as this have been faithful companions in my adventures.” (Pg. 138)
He says of his book ‘Against Method,’ “AM is not a book, it is a collage. It contains descriptions, analyses, arguments that I had published, in almost the same words, ten, fifteen, even twenty years earlier.” (Pg. 139)
He reveals, “Gradually I became acquainted with ‘intellectuals.’ They constitute a very special community… This community now started taking a slight interest in me: it lifted me up to its own eye level, took a brief look at me, and dropped me again. After making me appear more important than I ever thought I was, it enumerated my shortcomings and put me back in my place. That really confused me… I grew rather depressed. The depression stayed with me for over a year… now I was alone, sick with some unknown affliction; my private life was in a mess, and I was without a defense. I often wished I had never written that fu_ing book.” (Pg. 146-147)
He concludes the book, “I am partially paralyzed, in a hospital, with an inoperable brain tumor. I would not want to die now that I have finally got my act together---in my private as well as my professional life… Grazia is with me in the hospital, which is a great joy, and she fills the room with light. I one way I am ready to depart, despite all the things I still would like to do, but in another way I am sad to leave this beautiful world behind, especially Grazia, whom I would have liked to accompany for a few more years… Whatever happens now, our small family can live forever---Grazia, me, and our love. That is what I would like to happen, not intellectual survival but the survival of love.” (Pg. 180-181)
For those interested in philosophers’ biographies, or interested in the development of Feyerabend’s thought, this book will be of keen interest.
February 16, 2015
Killing me... I was really surprised by the lack of in-depth reflection by Feyerabend on his life. Too much information that I did not know what to think about, because it was just facts without perspective. Perhaps reflecting deeply on personal matters just wasn´t his strength - on the contrary, impersonally and philosophically he did quite well. Disappointing read, I was bored.
May 29, 2015
The more I read by/about Feyerabend, the larger my crush grows…
November 25, 2023
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 14, 2025
Paul Feyerabends (1924 - 1994) Autobiographie „Killing Time“ zeichnet das Leben des als „Anarchist der Wissenschaftstheorie“ bekannten Philosophen als einen turbulenten, unsteten und vielfach zufälligen Weg nach. Die frühe Jugend in Wien war geprägt von familiären Exzentrizitäten und intellektueller Isolation – Erfahrungen, die seine spätere konträre Haltung bereits vorwegnahmen. Der Zweite Weltkrieg, in dem Feyerabend als Soldat verwundet wurde, hinterließ ihn nicht nur mit einer dauerhaften körperlichen Behinderung, sondern auch mit der tiefen, zunächst beinahe emotionslosen Einsicht in die universelle Ambivalenz von Gut und Böse. Nach dem Krieg vollzog er einen abrupten Richtungswechsel: Vom Traum einer Karriere als Opernsänger wandte er sich der Philosophie zu.
Seine akademische Laufbahn war von nomadischer Unrast bestimmt. Feyerabend bekleidete Professuren in Wien, Bristol, London, Berlin und Berkeley, ohne je sesshaft zu werden. Diese Unbeständigkeit und seine Abneigung gegen starre philosophische Systeme kulminierten in seinem zentralen Werk „Against Method“. Dort argumentierte er, Wissenschaft folge keinen festen rationalen Regeln, sondern gleiche vielmehr einem „chaotischen Sammelsurium“ heterogener Traditionen – einer Collage, nicht einem System. Die etablierten Standards erschienen ihm häufig als eine „Tyrannei philosophischer Obfuskatoren“. Seine Einsichten speisten sich aus frühen Studien, etwa zu Wittgenstein und aus den Debatten im Umfeld des Kraft-Zirkels, sowie aus seiner zunehmenden Ernüchterung über die „Dünnheit der abstrakten philosophischen Vernunft“. Daraus erwuchs sein berühmtes Plädoyer für einen epistemologischen Anarchismus. Trotz seines Rufs als intellektuelles Enfant terrible betrachtete Feyerabend seine Publikationen oft nur als Nebenprodukte einer Vortragstätigkeit, die ihm Tenure und finanzielle Sicherheit verschaffte.
Erst spät im Leben fand er nach einer Reihe unbefriedigender Ehen und Affären in seiner vierten Frau, Grazia Borrini, ein emotionales Fundament. Diese Beziehung, so beschreibt er, befreite ihn aus seiner „eiskalten, egoistischen“ Isolation und verlieh seinem Leben eine tiefere Bedeutung als seine intellektuellen Leistungen. Liebe, schreibt Feyerabend, sei ein „Geschenk, keine Leistung“ – und die eigentliche Quelle moralischen Charakters, im Gegensatz zu abstrakten Prinzipien, die allzu oft in Enge und Grausamkeit umschlagen.
Die letzten Jahre waren geprägt von seinem Ruhestand, den er ironisch als die Erfüllung eines „kindlichen Wunsches“ schildert, und von der Arbeit an seinem letzten Manuskript „Conquest of Abundance“. „Killing Time“ endet mit einem Nachwort seiner Frau nach seinem Tod im Jahr 1994, in dem von einer finalen „Abkehr“ die Rede ist. Feyerabends größte Hoffnung war nicht, dass seine Papiere oder theoretischen Erklärungen überdauern würden, sondern die Liebe. So erweist sich dieses Buch als radikal ehrliches Zeugnis von der Unmöglichkeit des Systems – im Leben wie in der Wissenschaft – und als spätes Plädoyer für menschliche Wärme gegenüber abstrakter Vernunft.
Seine akademische Laufbahn war von nomadischer Unrast bestimmt. Feyerabend bekleidete Professuren in Wien, Bristol, London, Berlin und Berkeley, ohne je sesshaft zu werden. Diese Unbeständigkeit und seine Abneigung gegen starre philosophische Systeme kulminierten in seinem zentralen Werk „Against Method“. Dort argumentierte er, Wissenschaft folge keinen festen rationalen Regeln, sondern gleiche vielmehr einem „chaotischen Sammelsurium“ heterogener Traditionen – einer Collage, nicht einem System. Die etablierten Standards erschienen ihm häufig als eine „Tyrannei philosophischer Obfuskatoren“. Seine Einsichten speisten sich aus frühen Studien, etwa zu Wittgenstein und aus den Debatten im Umfeld des Kraft-Zirkels, sowie aus seiner zunehmenden Ernüchterung über die „Dünnheit der abstrakten philosophischen Vernunft“. Daraus erwuchs sein berühmtes Plädoyer für einen epistemologischen Anarchismus. Trotz seines Rufs als intellektuelles Enfant terrible betrachtete Feyerabend seine Publikationen oft nur als Nebenprodukte einer Vortragstätigkeit, die ihm Tenure und finanzielle Sicherheit verschaffte.
Erst spät im Leben fand er nach einer Reihe unbefriedigender Ehen und Affären in seiner vierten Frau, Grazia Borrini, ein emotionales Fundament. Diese Beziehung, so beschreibt er, befreite ihn aus seiner „eiskalten, egoistischen“ Isolation und verlieh seinem Leben eine tiefere Bedeutung als seine intellektuellen Leistungen. Liebe, schreibt Feyerabend, sei ein „Geschenk, keine Leistung“ – und die eigentliche Quelle moralischen Charakters, im Gegensatz zu abstrakten Prinzipien, die allzu oft in Enge und Grausamkeit umschlagen.
Die letzten Jahre waren geprägt von seinem Ruhestand, den er ironisch als die Erfüllung eines „kindlichen Wunsches“ schildert, und von der Arbeit an seinem letzten Manuskript „Conquest of Abundance“. „Killing Time“ endet mit einem Nachwort seiner Frau nach seinem Tod im Jahr 1994, in dem von einer finalen „Abkehr“ die Rede ist. Feyerabends größte Hoffnung war nicht, dass seine Papiere oder theoretischen Erklärungen überdauern würden, sondern die Liebe. So erweist sich dieses Buch als radikal ehrliches Zeugnis von der Unmöglichkeit des Systems – im Leben wie in der Wissenschaft – und als spätes Plädoyer für menschliche Wärme gegenüber abstrakter Vernunft.
November 1, 2020
Had to read it for a class. Interesting person with interesting ideas makes many references to other people. Especially his concluding words on love and relationships are noteworthy. I guess philosophy of science is too high for me.
August 19, 2022
Hilarious and brilliant as he was. He shares anecdotes of his early career and interesting remarks such as times shared with Kuhn or his experience at the Popper seminar. You'll love him more after reading his life story.
December 30, 2022
Fascinating autobiography of a most interesting philosopher. Worth a read.
January 5, 2024
Really a very good writer
January 19, 2024
fine read.
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