A guide to philosophy via the 20th-century analytic school of thought--and succinct & accessible!
Along with many others, I initially thought of Roger Scruton as a political thinker, famous (and, to some, infamous) as a conservative. I read one of his books about 10-12 years ago, and read some about him, and found him to be an articulate traditional conservative thinker. Not a right-winger, but a principled conservative in the tradition of Burke, Hegel, and the Tory party. But more recently, I read some of his later works, such as The Face of God (2012 Gifford Lectures), The Soul of the World (2014), and On Human Nature (2017), all written in the decade before his death in 2020. These works revealed an impressive and persuasive philosophical anthropology. I decided to read more of his works, and happened upon Modern Philosophy (1994).
I’m not a philosopher, nor do I have anything more than a single undergraduate course in philosophy to my credit; that was a philosophy of history course. But through my interest in political thought and history, I was introduced to philosophy, which sparked a lifelong interest in the topic. I have some acquaintance with the greats, from Heraclitus, Plato, and Aristotle to contemporary philosophers. (I’m not very deep outside of political thought, but I’m fairly wide.) But what I don’t have is much experience reading 20th-century Anglophone philosophy, which, to me, seemed too picky and detailed on the microscopic issues of language and logic. Too much bland fare. But, it turns out, Scruton’s Modern Philosophy is just that: a course based on lectures he gave at Birkbeck College, London, on modern topics in philosophy seen primarily through the lens of the tradition in which he was educated. He received his doctorate from Cambridge in 1973. His dissertation was on aesthetics and was supervised by Elizabeth Anscombe. In other words, he was educated in the academic capital of 20th-century Anglophone philosophy. So what was this book going to be about? Scruton sets out his tenets in his introduction:
I also have serious reservations concerning the utility of much that passes for ‘research’ in modern philosophy, while recognising, nevertheless, that the subject has been irreversibly changed as a result of Frege and Wittgenstein, and must be understood from the most modern perspective if it is to be understood at all. It is by no means easy to convey this modern perspective in language accessible to the common reader; but the attempt is, I believe, worthwhile, and not only for the layman’s sake. The technocratic style of modern philosophy – and in particular that emerging from the Anglo-American universities – is in danger of killing all interest in the subject, and of severing its connection to humane education. Only if philosophers can rediscover the simplicity and directness of a Frege, a Russell or a Wittgenstein, so as to express the problems of the head in the language of the heart, will they really know what they are doing in the realm of abstract ideas. Part of my motive in preparing these lectures for publication has therefore been to rediscover the subject, by presenting it in the language that seems most clear and natural to me.
. . . .
Aristotle observed that you should not attempt to impose more exactitude on a study than the matter permits. Likewise, you should not strive to give easy versions of ideas that are inherently difficult. The best that the reader can hope for is that the difficulties are intrinsic to the subject matter, and not generated by the author’s style. When the subject becomes truly technical, however, I have tried to circumvent the difficulty, while giving a sufficient idea of its nature. My hope is that the curious reader will be able, at the end of this book, to find his way through most of the recent literature, and all the classics, of philosophy.
Scruton, Roger. Modern Philosophy: An Introduction and Survey (Introduction).
I found that Scuton largely succeeds in his endeavor to present these ideas “in the language that seems most clear and natural to me” and to us. This is to say that some of the ideas about language and logic in the wake of Frege, Russell, and Wittgenstein and their heirs are quite deep, sophisticated, and abstract, but Scruton’s prose and patience make these concepts as accessible to a lay audience like me as I expect is possible. Scruton is a clear, fluent writer in my earlier reading of his books, and he maintains this voice as much as possible in this work. It’s no mean achievement.
The table of contents reveals chapters on about every topic that one would typically consider when identifying the concerns of philosophers throughout history: from “The Nature of Philosophy” and “Skepticism” to “Imagination,” Mathematics,” “Space and Time,” to “The Devil” and “Self and Other.” And everything in between. In addition to the main body of his text, he includes a “Study Guide” for each chapter that cites foundational and subsequent texts pertinent to the topic up to about the date of publication of his book, and provides additional elucidation on the chapter's subject. After completing this book, I felt that someone ought to award me a semester of college credit for all that I learned.
If I were to write more about this book, I would have to do so on a chapter-by-chapter basis, and perhaps I will do so for some chapters. It’s certainly a rich enough deposit of philosophical knowledge and—dare I say?—wisdom, that it can and should be mined repeatedly to extract its full value. I won’t say it made this single work led me to fall in love with the dominant trends in 20th-century Anglophone philosophy*, but it deepened my knowledge and whetted my curiosity, so who knows? Maybe someday I’ll convert, or at least try to identify the nuggets in that tradition that I can value. And if anyone could have sold me on this proposition, it would have to be Scruton.
*My favorite 20th-century Anglophone philosopher is R.G. Collingwood, who’s known (if at all) for his work in the philosophy of history. However, the scope of his work is much wider than just the philosophy of history, and had he not died relatively young (age 53), when still at the height of his powers, he may have changed the course of British and Anglophone philosophy away from its more extreme aridity. See my post: “How the untimely death of RG Collingwood changed the course of philosophy forever” by Ray Monk: An insightful appreciation of Collingwood & a tantalizing “what if” scenario.