Parfit: A Philosopher and His Mission to Save Morality

by David Edmonds

This audiobook narrated by Zeb Soanes paints an entertaining and illuminating portrait of a brilliant philosopher who tried to rescue morality from nihilism

Derek Parfit (1942–2017) is the most famous philosopher most people have never heard of. Widely regarded as one of the greatest moral thinkers of the past hundred years, Parfit was anything but a public intellectual. Yet his ideas have shaped the way philosophers think about things that affect us equality, altruism, what we owe to future generations, and even what it means to be a person. In Parfit, David Edmonds presents the first biography of an intriguing, obsessive, and eccentric genius.

Believing that we should be less concerned with ourselves and more with the common good, Parfit dedicated himself to the pursuit of philosophical progress to an extraordinary degree. He always wore gray trousers and a white shirt so as not to lose precious time picking out clothes, he varied his diet as little as possible, and he had only one serious non-philosophical taking photos of Oxford, Venice, and St. Petersburg. In the latter half of his life, he single-mindedly devoted himself to a desperate attempt to rescue secular morality—morality without God—by arguing that it has an objective, rational basis. For Parfit, the stakes could scarcely have been higher. If he couldn’t demonstrate that there are objective facts about right and wrong, he believed, his life was futile and all our lives were meaningless.

Connecting Parfit’s work and life and offering a clear introduction to his profound and challenging ideas, Parfit is a powerful portrait of an extraordinary thinker who continues to have a remarkable influence on the world of ideas.

Genres: Philosophy, Biography, Nonfiction, Audiobook, History, Biography Memoir, Memoir

Audible Audio

First published April 29, 2024

About the author

Journalist of BBC

Reviews

[Zachary Holecek · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well written book about one of the most influential philosophers of our time. Derek Parfit is an eccentric, interesting, but also frustrating protagonist. His retreat into his work and total devotion to his book for many years towards the end of his life was surprisingly tragic. The author does a good job of dumbing down the philosophy enough but not too much. Parfit’s actual ideas and conclusions are interesting but rely on some basic assumptions that readers might fundamentally disagree with (for example, that morality can be objectively found). Nevertheless it’s worth a read if you are casually interested in philosophy.

[Ollie · Rating 3 out of 5]

This review is for my second read through. Not very well written, often tedious (this is so especially in the first half), at once emotionally distant from its subject and prying into diagnoses, i've come to peace with this book. It is the biography of a man for whom I have a great deal of affection. The sections on those Parfit loved (the late Bernard Williams, his wife Janet Radcliffe Richards) manage to bring me to tears. At its best, reminiscent of Parfit's late masterpiece On What Matters.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Is it fair to judge a moral theory by the life of the philosopher who promoted it?

For a philosopher who devoted the latter part of his life to "What Matters," Derek Parfit seemed to have little actual sense of what actually matters in life. Edmonds' well-done biography paints a picture of a man who was almost entirely oblivious or indifferent to the ordinary customs and concerns of human life. In some ways, this insouciance is merely comical. We are told that Parfit was accustomed to riding his exercise bike naked, and that on one instance when he became overheated in a seminar, he simply dropped his trousers and continued his philosophical conversation with the same casualness as if he had merely adjusted his glasses.

In other cases, however, the cluelessness is more troubling. Edmonds recounts a story from Bill Ewald, who was visiting Oxford from the United States. Parfit's old friend, Susan Hurley, had been diagnosed with cancer, and did not have long to live. But when she invited Ewald and Parfit to join her for dinner, Parfit declined, saying that he was too busy with his book. Hurley shrugged it off, but Ewald reports having wanted to say "Derek, you're writing a book of moral philosophy called On What Matters. Well, *this* matters."

Parfit could be incredibly generous. He would provide extensive - and I mean *extensive* - feedback on anybody's work, no matter whether they were an internationally renowned philosopher or a first year graduate student. He casually made a gift to Larry Temkin of a photograph that he spent an enormous amount of time and money producing.

But like the Effective Altruism to which his theorizing gave rise, Parfit's altruism could sometimes feel a bit inhuman. Humanity, as such, mattered a great deal to Parfit, but the particular individuals who constituted humanity seemed sometimes to matter not at all. As former All Souls Fellow Hanna Pickard described him, Parfit was "very warm and cold at the same time."

Parfit's was a life devoted entirely to philosophy. And his philosophy was one devoted entirely to the maximization of well-being. In some cases, this philosophy led him to conclusions that even he recognized as "repugnant." But the broader defects of his approach seem to have gone unrecognized by him. As David Schmidtz writes in his recent book, _Living Together_, "limiting any given pursuit enables us to have *projects* rather than obsessions." But Parfit seemed generally baffled by the idea of limits, of taking seriously the personal point of view, and the commitment to particular ends that it entails. The result was a life which, while no doubt accomplished in certain significant respects, nevertheless leaves the reader not in awe but with a mixture of curiosity and, more than anything, pity.

[Michel Justen · Rating 4 out of 5]

The more I learned about Parfit, the less I could relate to him: he lived in the countryside for many years but never enjoyed long walks through it; he preferred to eat the same meal every day; he considered basic friendship a waste of time in his later years; and he was a genius who worked tirelessly to make seminal contributions to ethics and the philosophy of personhood.

I admire his focused pursuit of moral ambition. I want to learn from it, even as intend to nurture and channel any analog I find in different ways.

As for the biography itself, I wish it had been shorter. I often found myself distracted or bored by extra details.

[Devon Fritz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Derek Parfit was a pretty incredible guy whom I had the pleasure of meeting (I found out) just a little over a month before his passing. I first came across Parfit when I read Hofstadter's "I Am A Strange Loop" where he described the former's teleportation thought experiments. I didn't come across him again for many moons until hearing him lecture in Oxford at an Effective Altruism conference, which I didn't even know he was involved with.

Anyway. Derek appears to have been an extremely idiosyncratic man. This was pretty clear from the New Yorker article that came out after his death, but this book really nails it home. It is always strange to see a philosopher and their philosophy seemingly diverge so much. I expect Parfit to have cared more about beings than most people ever to have lived in some sense and yet in the most literal down-to-earth sense he was cold and didn't enjoy the company of others.

[Leonard Kim · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had not heard of Parfit before reading this though some of his famous thought experiments I had seen described in other books without knowing he originated them. Unfortunately I thought this book did an inadequate job both as a biography and as an explication of Parfit’s ideas to the extent that I felt the case was not made that Parfit was deserving of a book like this, which I sense isn’t actually the case. The Undoing Project this isn’t.

[Marks54 · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a recent biography of Derek Parfit, one of the key moral and ethical philosophers of the past century - or longer. I am trying to get up the motivation to reread Parfit’s monumental “Reasons and Persons”, which is both long and demanding - especially for non-philosophers. This is a fine book which provides much detail and nuance about an interesting but quirky, whose major books are few but quite formidable. The author is a former student who is effective at talking through the major arguments and points of contention in the evolution of Parfit’s work. The book itself is well edited and highly readable.

[Richie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read ~1/3 of reasons and persons and thought that Derek was confused, but reading this book makes me suspect that it was, in fact, me who was confused :). Perhaps I should try again.

Also this book made me realize that I'm suppressing my genius by thinking about and adhering to social norms. That is mostly a joke.

In all seriousness, I thought this book was engaging and interesting. Very little of the book was spent on his actual ideas, but that was OK, and it was fun to just learn about the life of a mad genius.

[Jamie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Utterly brilliant from the first page to the last. Edmonds’ pages move at a great clip, weaving the personal life of Parfit with his philosophical outputs. I particularly enjoyed seeing the contours of the debates Parfit contributed to, which gives a sense of how valuable his insights were.

This really is non-fiction writing at its best.

[Bakunin · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5/5 stars. I found the portrait of the educational system to be interesting but was often times provoked by Parfits evangelical moral attitude.

[Brian Hegarty · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don’t know if the rating is for Parfit as a person, this book, or biographies in general. They had so much detail on him, it gives me hope that my biography will be a success and hopefully three times as long and published while I’m still alive.
Edmonds thinks the gamble of Parfit’s life paid off, but being good at philsophy turned turned him from a loved by everyone can do whatever he wants kid into an alcoholic recluse who won’t clean his room, live with his wife, go to weddings (only funerals), or talk to anyone about anything other than his sect of philosophy. His work probably would’ve been just as good even if he gave up his ‘genius’ habits of wearing always the same clothes, eating all the same meals, brushing his teeth for hours, and so on. I like to think Parfit took horrible odds with his gamble and got lucky, but I think this only because I want to stay lazy and undedicated.
Main takeaway is that I’m excited for my own biography.

[Rory Gillis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Saved by the eccentricities of the late Parfit, and an interesting speculation on the causes of the break. Beginning was in danger of being too reverential to the subject, and the ending could have gone further in emphasising that the late Parfit was unpleasant and mentally unwell. Also oddly didn’t expand that much on why Parfit thought meta-ethics was so important - could have been more biographical speculation or philosophical analysis here.

[ExtraGravy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solid biography of Derek Parfit. The writing was engaging and kept a nice pace even though much of his life was quiet and slowly paced. I appreciate this book for a portrait of a great thinker that felt clear eyed and authentic. Great read.

[Lawrie Wigham · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyable and gives a clear idea and feel to Parafit's life. My only quibble would be if a bit more space had been given to really flesh out his ideas and the critiques against them.

[Michael Reilly · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a biography of the philosopher Derek Parfit. He was born in England in 1942 and died in 2017. He was a superstar in the academic philosophy world.

He was also a world class eccentric. He lived his adult life in the academic cocoon of Oxford's All Souls College. He did not have to teach. He had no administrative duties. All he had to do was think and write about philosophy, and that is all he did. He wore a gray suit, white shirt and red tie every day. He had no small talk. All he could or would talk about was philosophy. He read 50 pages of philosophy while obsessively brushing his teeth. He slept until noon and then stayed up to dawn reading and writing in his room.

Edmonds, an Oxford educated philosopher himself, is an ideal biographer. He has written several excellent popular books of philosophical history and cohosts the very good "Philosophy Bites" podcast. He knew Parfit slightly. Parfit's wife, Janet Richards, was his PHD supervisor. (As would be expected, these two distinguished philosophy professors had an unusual marriage.) Edmonds is very familiar with the rarified academic world where Parfit spent his whole professional life.

Edmonds does an excellent job simplifying the basic ideas of Parfit's very complex and nuanced thoughts. To butcher then even more, it seems that the basic question he wrestled with was whether there is any objective, rational reason to act morally if there is no God. He wanted to prove rationally that we should do the good, even if no outside power required it. His answer is yes, there is a rational basis for morality. Edmonds summary of Parfit's theories didn't convince me, but what do I know?

Parfit wrestled with many other issues. He outlines complicated wacky thought experiments to delve into the question of what or where is our identity as an individual. Assume identical triplets. One's body is destroyed, but his brain survives. The bodies of the other two are fine, but their brains are dead. We separate the hemispheres of the surviving brain and put one hemisphere in each surviving body. Whose identity is in the survivors? Can two people have the same identity? Isn't this wacky?

It is clear from the tremendous respect that Parfit enjoyed in the philosophical world, that Parfit was a genius with profound theories. It is less clear if his writings had any long-term impact. It is probably too early to tell.

This is a fascinating biography. Edmonds shows what an odd fellow this was. Edmonds is sympathetic to Parfit, so he tends to excuse his rudeness or suggest that it was the price of such brilliance.

What struck me was that Parfit was pathologically selfish. He simply did not believe that anyone else's desires or needs where more important than his own. He ignored people who he thought were not smart enough to talk to him. He surrounded himself with a network of people who took care of him. He dropped friends when they could no longer help him in his work. He could not be bothered to learn anything about the world around him. Edmonds makes the point that Parfit was never cruel or vindictive, even in the petty academic wars he was in the middle of. That seems correct. It wasn't that he was mean, it was that he was selfish.

This is an accessible book about very sophisticated ideas and the very complicated man who thought them.

[Zarathustra Goertzel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Parfit's life is beautifully simple: growing up the social debater and winding up a philosopher at the top of the ivory towers :D.

Quite a cute telling of his tale that supplements Reasons and Persons nicely.

[David Goldman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Derek Parfit is the philosopher’s philosopher—one of the moral philosophers who spent his life trying to find an objective basis for ethics and who influenced a generation of colleagues. Yet he published very little during his lifetime—two books and several papers—and was relatively unknown to the general public at the time of his death in 2017. These and other dichotomies pervade David Edmonds’ exceptional biography. Edmonds has to be congratulated for his clear writing that explains Parfit’s work and the debates to the “amateur” philosopher in a way that never feels dumbed down. And while Parfit was an amazing eccentric (and became more eccentric toward the end), Parfit’s life was free of most of the drama that typically makes for engaging biographies. Yet the book is entertaining throughout.
There are two main sections to Parfit’s professional and personal development. The career up to Parfit’s seminal Reasons and Persons shows an energetic thinker who wanted to teach and learn from as many people as possible. This led to eccentricity—but the kind that made Parfit beloved, as he would spend time with students and strangers alike giving feedback on their papers and debating ideas on a variety of subjects.

Reasons and Persons was indeed an extraordinary book. Here is a recap from Simon Blackburn.

It was original and groundbreaking in entwining two apparently disparate objects of philosophical discussion. The first was the extent to which everyday morality, or even proposed improvements of it, could be defended as rational. The other was the nature of personal identity: the question of the way in which I as a person survive, or do not survive, changes in my physical brain and body and changes in my psychological states. On this topic, Parfit’s analysis led him to the conclusion that our own future self is only related to our present self by psychological similarities and continuities, which are not all or nothing but admit of graduation and diminution. This was not in itself original. It was the view of Locke and Hume, and other contemporaries, notably Sydney Shoemaker and David Wiggins, had defended the same position, even if Parfit did it with an unusual plethora of sci-fi thought experiments. What was radical was his view that this answer completely reorientated conventional thoughts about reasons for behavior. A proper understanding of our own identity through time forced a rethink of our relations to other people. They are to matter to me in just the same way that my future self matters to me.
The case is made by considering cases like this. Suppose a Star Trek scenario in which I can be teletransported to a far different place. Perhaps it works by generating a perfect molecule-by-molecule replica, or perhaps by putting my psychological software into a new shell, while the original me is somehow disappeared. It seems as if I might survive this process, finding myself in the far different place. That is certainly what the newbie would claim, since it would claim the same memories and have exactly the same conviction of being my earlier self that I presently have. In the same way that I do, it would own my history and memories. But now suppose the process produces a double success: there are now two equally close successors to me. I cannot be identical with both of them, because they are not identical with each other. Perhaps one is playing cricket while the other is driving to Scotland: both things I can readily imagine myself doing. Yet surely if I am happy about there being one survivor I should be equally happy about there being two? Such scenarios led Parfit to the radical claim that identity is not what ought to matter to us. Psychological continuity is enough.
The alleged implication for our relations with other people came as follows. The Victorian philosopher Henry Sidgwick structured his vast book The Methods of Ethics (1874) around the question why it is ever rational to sacrifice my own well-being in order to benefit others. To his own disappointment, he found that he could not refute the egoist’s view that it is never rational to do so. But, Parfit argued, if it is rational to care about my own future well-being, then it must also be rational to care in the same way about that of others, who may equally be more or less similar to me psychologically and indeed causally, if they had picked up these traits from contact with me. If I am rational, I become “less concerned about the rest of my own life, and more concerned about the lives of others.”
It is a big claim to stand on the somewhat far-fetched thought experiment. As Roger Scruton remarked “The book was a tour de force, advocating an esoteric moral doctrine which, because nobody could possibly live by it, nobody had any motive to refute.”

Reasons and Persons cemented Parfit’s reputation as a genius. It also represented the last book he wrote for decades. During this time, Parfit became more withdrawn—more focused on philosophy over relationships, more didactic, more of a perfectionist. These tendencies made him obsessive about one cause and one subject: the objective basis of moral ethics. He tried to find a synthesis between deontology, utilitarianism, and contractualism. Parfit’s triple theory is of that kind: “an act is wrong just when such acts are disallowed by some principle that is optimific, uniquely universally willable, and not reasonably rejectable.” Or, to put it more plainly:
An act is wrong if it’s ruled out by a principle that:
Would lead to the best overall outcome if everyone followed it (i.e., if it were a universal rule, things would go best).
Everyone could rationally endorse as a universal rule (i.e., it’s one of the only principles everyone could will to apply to all).
No one could reasonably object to (i.e., it’s not a principle that people could fairly reject).

This 2000+ page opus is stuffed with compelling arguments and interesting ideas. In particular, its rejection of consequentialism as it relates to future persons I find compelling. We may believe, for example, that an action is wrong only if it causes harm to particular individuals. But consider our relation to future generations. We might act well today to preserve the planet’s ecology, or we might act very badly in this regard. In the latter case, those a couple of centuries from now will have livable but difficult and non-flourishing lives. It seems we have failed in our moral duty to these individuals.

Parfit argues that what makes a particular self is the joining of a particular egg and sperm at a particular time. Think of all the possibilities that might have made your parents meet later and have a different child instead of you. Then consider the future individuals who live centuries from now in a world created by our resource-depleting behavior. Without that very behavior—with all the historical contingencies involved—they would not have been around. Much more responsible behavior by us today would have changed history enough to generate a very different cohort of individuals. The ones in our thought experiment are surely better off than if they had never existed at all, so they cannot claim that we have harmed them. There are no existing individuals, it seems, who have been wronged by us. So, the account of one moral theory for the wrongness of our present bad behavior is unsuccessful. These are fascinating takes, even if it’s hard to apply his objective triple theory.

But the book is also a mess that reflects Parfit’s behavior towards others. Edmonds believes that Parfit was autistic, a trait that was in control during his early years but not so much later. This led to a more remote philosophy and more remote human relations. Yet Parfit remained engaged with his colleagues and capable of remarkable insights that could be both touching and remote—“comforting” a friend who had just lost his wife:

“When I think of someone dead, whom I loved, it helped me to remember that this person isn’t less real because she isn’t real now, just as people far away aren’t less real because they aren’t really here. But it’s awful to know that Sally isn’t real now.” 322.

I found this analysis both an incredibly odd and moving insight. And it exemplifies Parfit as a philosopher and a friend.

[Koke Helmes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Listened to audiobook on audible, narrated by Zeb Soanes. Great production. He had a great english Parfit voice that matched Parfits character. Yet I watched a lecture and he doesn't talk like that at all 😂.

[Matt Berkowitz · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fun, illuminating book once it gets going. If you read this book because, like me, you were hoping for a brief, digestible run-down of Parfit’s philosophical/intellectual ideas and contributions, you’ll have to slog through a bunch of chapters about his personal life before actually getting to his ideas. In the first few chapters, we learn that Parfit was always a top student, strangely underestimated his mathematical ability despite being top of his classes, and appeared to be rather eccentric from the start.

In the next few chapters, we learn a little bit about Parfit’s philosophical influences (Sidgewick was a paramount influence). It isn’t until chapter 8 where Edmonds dives into Parfit’s famous Teletransporter thought experiment about personal identity. Edmonds discusses Parfit’s unorthodox idea that what makes us us is not some entity that exists or resides within us, but the presence (or absence) of psychological continuity.

We learn of Parfit’s near-zealous obsession with philosophy to the point where he had less and less patience for engaging in small talk or even in discussion with non-philosophers. When well-known historian Adrian Wooldridge was contemplating how to structure his PhD, Parfit’s response was reportedly, “It’s pointless. Philosophy is much more important” (p. 168). His philosopher contemporaries cited Parfit’s perfectionism as one reason for his scant publishing record, and another reason being his inordinate time spent commenting on other philosophers’ work, which was highly valued.

Parfit was also a man of principle, in which he apparently lived up to certain philosophical standards that most of us would find difficult. For example, Parfit did not believe in moral deserts or in retribution, so he apparently harboured no animus towards people who slighted him. When shown (doctored) footage of Hitler celebrating France’s surrender to Germany, Parfit thought that, all else being equal, it’s better that Hitler was happy than unhappy, believing that a world with more happiness is better than less happiness.

Chapter 12, almost two-thirds of the way into the book, we finally get to Reasons and Persons, Parfit’s first of two tomes divided into four rather disparate parts, which has had enormous influence on modern philosophy. Edmonds discusses many of Parfit’s major contributions from Reasons and Persons, starting with “self-defeating theories”: theories that seem to fail based on their own internal logic, like selfishness. Parfit appealed to game theory to show how self-interest theories are irrational and self-defeating via the famous Prisoner’s Dilemma scenario. Parfit also regarded consequentialism as indirectly self-defeating because, for example, it (supposedly) leads one to abandon one’s own children’s needs to help more impoverished children elsewhere. (I always thought this conceived of consequentialism in too narrow a sense.)

Next up is a discussion of time biases, which Parfit explored through a series of intriguing thought experiments, and concluded that it’s irrational to have a preference for happiness or pain in the past vs the future. I was never fully persuaded by Parfit’s conclusions here (nor by Meghan Sullivan’s more recent book, Time Biases, that explores similar themes), but it makes for thought-provoking reading and contemplation. Perhaps most impactfully, Part IV of Reasons and Persons presents the Non-Identity Problem (that an act may be wrong even if it’s not wrong for someone), and the famous thought experiment that led to the Repugnant Conclusion, each of which are still central to population ethics today, and which don’t have agreed upon solutions. Parfit states his Repugnant Conclusion as follows, “For any possible population of at least ten billion people, all with a very high quality of life, there must be some much larger imaginable population whose existence, if other things are equal, would be better even though its members have lives that are barely worth living” (p. 210). Parfit imagined that there could be a “Theory X” that solved the Non-Identity Problem but avoided the Repugnant Conclusion (as well as the Mere Addition Paradox), but never found it. For me, this chapter should have been 50% of the book given how central this material was to Parfit’s academic legacy. It could have also covered the best counter-arguments to Parfit’s arguments and Parfit’s rebuttals. Oh well.

The next chapter (13) takes a detour to explore Parfit’s passion for photography and aesthetic sensibilities, which were not very interesting to me, nor what I read the book for. If you’re reading this primarily to get more insight into Parfit’s philosophical career, you can safely skip or skim this chapter.

We then learn of some of Parfit’s idiosyncrasies in how he thought and worked. For example, Parfit had a phobia of using formal logic and eschewed arguments that contained such notation, preferring to read and communicate in plain English. He mostly dismissed the importance of human relationships, never quite seeming to grasp social cues or recognize emotional needs in others, suggesting that he was autistic (a hypothesis Edmonds explores in the final few pages of the book). At the same time, Parfit was also well-known for being unfailingly kind in dealing with students. Even if he doled out criticism, he never belittled their abilities or “silly” questions; instead, he approached students with compassion and often produced reams of feedback praising the positive and pointing out the flaws.

The last part of the book tells the story of On What Matters, Parfit’s even-more-massive second tome, which attempted to defend moral realism. As Parfit saw it, if morality is not objective, then nothing matters. Parfit attempted to bind the disparate normal ethical theories of consequentialism, Kantianism (more commonly known as deontology now), and contractualism, arguing that these theories are really getting at the same underlying truths, such that even if they disagree, this does not pose a problem for the objectivity of morality. Having never read the book, I can’t exactly comment on Edmonds’ summary, but he does a good job synthesizing the ~1,400 pages of often unrelated content. Edmonds then discusses the mostly unimpressed reactions from the philosophical community and how Parfit’s project did not seem to be a success in most people’s books.

I don’t want to blame the book for being something it didn’t intend to be. I hoped for more focus on Parfit’s intellectual contributions and less on his personal life, the latter of which I was less interested in. For what it aimed to do, Edmonds succeeded in giving a well-rounded view of Parfit’s highly unusual life and lasting intellectual contributions. An enjoyable read.

[Tyler Johnston · Rating 5 out of 5]

"It is impossible to read off a person's personality from their ideas. Discuss." One could imagine such a question in an All Souls general paper. And there are such cases where there seems to be no connection. The special theory of relativity provides no clue to Einstein's genial personality. Parifitan philosophy, however, is bound up with aspects of his charecter.

I don’t read many biographies. Frankly, I often find them boring. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn a bit more about my favorite philosopher of all time.

That proved to be the right choice, not only because the story is brilliantly and meticulously told by David Edmonds, but also because of the close connection between Parfit’s work and his personal life.

Two themes, in particular, stood out to me:

1. His radical sensitivity to the suffering of distant others
2. His unending determination

As for the first: a central theme in Parfit’s work is that we ought to care a bit less about ourselves and an awful lot more about others (even those who are quite far away from us, in space or in time). But I was honestly surprised by Edmonds’ account of how deeply Parfit felt this concern for others.

At various moments, he’s brought to tears by the suffering of others, near and far. The book retells one story from Victor Tadros, in which Parfit (who, I was surprised to learn, majored in history as an undergrad) was brought to tears during a philosophical debate in 2014, in which the example of World War I was brought up: “Suddenly in the middle of that discussion, Derek started to cry, really quite a bit. He was crying at the sadness of all those lives ended prematurely in the war.”

This caught me off guard. Maybe it’s because I grew up playing video games that dramatized fatal WWI battles as a cure for boredom. But I would venture that for most people, like myself, the century since the First World War began has been more than enough time to make the deaths of that war nothing more than a historical fact. The idea that it would have been so sensitive a subject as to bring Parfit to tears really demonstrates his incredible sensitivity to human life and suffering, regardless of its location in space or time. Edmonds describes plenty of other moments, big and small, where you can see Parfit’s compassion shine through.

Still, he wasn't a saint, and Edmonds doesn’t fail to address the many times that his lack of social prowess resulted in rude interactions, or his life partner Janet Radcliffe Richards’ frank reflection: “I can’t think of anything we did together that wasn’t what he wanted to do.”

But what the story of his life makes clear is that Parfit really did care, on a visceral level, about the ideas he dedicated his life to. But perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise. The opening of the preface quotes Derek, who, in his own words, "wrote about what matters.”

Toward the end of his life, it seems like Derek felt most strongly about the possibility that morality itself has no grounding in truth — a fact that was (and continues to be) popular in philosophical circles, and which threatened to render his concern for the suffering of others as arbitrary as his preferred choice of tie color (red). Edmonds mentions one case in 2010 when he became “visibly anguished” when, on a visit to Harvard, the students he was teaching didn’t seem convinced by his arguments for moral realism: “At one point, he fell to his knees, virtually pleading with the class: ‘Don’t you see, if morality isn’t objective, our lives are meaningless.’”

And it’s that which brings me to my second takeaway from the book: Derek’s singular dedication and focus concerning his work, and that of his peers and mentees. For a philosopher who only published two books in his lifetime, I couldn’t believe the sheer amount of work that he did. The book is full of examples: discussions with students that lasted fourteen hours, decades of constant revisions and additions to his work that nearly drove his publishers mad, and hundreds of pages of detailed feedback regularly offered to students and other philosophers only days after reading their work.

Even a charming chapter on his main hobby, photography, shows that Derek was truly obsessive about whatever was in front of him. But he was also very particular about what made its way in front of him. Usually, it was the questions that he thought were the most important in the world, especially that of moral realism: the foundation, it seemed to Parfit, upon which all other meaning in life relied.

There are many other little things to love about this book. To name a few: the glimpse at fierce institutional politics in Oxford during the twentieth century, the due attention given to the ideas of Parfit’s students, peers, and partner (all brilliant in their own right), the meticulous research process that shines through the text and its corresponding twenty pages of endnotes, and even the handful of color photos included in the hardcover: both photos of and by Derek himself.

If there’s anything I would have liked to see more of, it would have been time spent with Derek’s ideas on their own. I suspect the author figured most readers had already read Parfit, or could choose to go do so if they were curious, but I do wish that more of the book was spent laying out his arguments and the objections raised to them — even the nitty-gritty stuff. That being said, the few dozen pages that are devoted to this task do an awfully good job at it.

Ultimately, the reason I wanted to read this book is the same reason that I’m writing a review encouraging others to do so. I’m secretly hoping that, by learning more about his life, some part of Derek can rub off on others. And if his reductionist view of personal identity is correct, maybe it literally can.

I don’t think all of it should, of course; he wasn’t always the best husband or community member, and he was often needlessly myopic and stubborn in his academic life.

But I do believe that we can all stand to care much more about others. And I do think we all ought to find something that matters and work really damn hard on it.

Finishing this book left me a bit more motivated to do both.

[Imlac · Rating 2 out of 5]

Interesting to learn about Parfit - if you can stand to read the cliche-ridden, gee-whiz, hagiographic prose of a journalist writing (and thinking) solely for the wonder and entertainment of the pretentious middlebrow. The subtitle, "A Philosopher and his Mission to Save Morality", is a deeply misleading characterization born of a profound misunderstanding of what morality is. I can't find any evidence that it is meant ironically.

[Andrei Khrapavitski · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lagging behind with my book reviews for 2024. Let's start with "Parfit: A Philosopher and His Mission to Save Morality" by David Edmonds.

I am not really into biographical books but couldn't pass this by as Parfit is one of my favorite philosophers. His "Reasons and Persons" is the work of genius. "On What Matters" is another one. Sadly very few people have read Parfit, but many do know movements and ideas which came to fruition courtesy of his ingenious work.

First, it is longtermism, a moral philosophy that considers positively influencing the long-term future to be a key moral priority. It's based on three premises:
- Future people have moral worth
- There could be many future people
- What we do today can affect how well or poorly their lives go.

Second, if Peter Singer is "a father" of the effective altruism movement, Derek Parfit can be called its "grandfather," as David Edmonds posits.

Connected with those two ideas springing out of Parfit's work, his philosophy had a profound effect on research into existential risks.

Then, of course, it's his seminal work on personal identity where he argued that psychological continuity (continuity of memories, values, personality traits etc.) is a key component of what matters for personal identity and survival over time. He used thought experiments like teletransportation to argue that if psychological continuity is preserved, personal identity can survive radical physical changes.

There's tons of great insights from his philosophy, but focusing on the actual book by David Edmonds, it is spotlighting some things about Parfit I was suspecting but was not sure about. Turns out Parfit was, with high likelihood, on an autism spectrum. The way he reasoned about the world and personal identity was as if he was literally an extraterrestrial, someone like Spock from Star Trek comes to mind when I think about Parfit.

His famous thought experiments were techniques he employed quite a lot. He argued just as scientists used experiments to test out hypotheses, philosophers had thought experiments at their hands to test out moral theories.

I hadn't seen a similar style of writing in a philosophical text preceding Parfit. And I did read quite a lot of philosophy from different eras. I find his style clear but also challenging, full of mind-bending scenarios and situations where ideas get tested and weighed against counter ideas and theories.

One famous Parfit's puzzle is so called "repugnant conclusion". The thought experiment goes like this:

Imagine you have three possible worlds to choose from:

World A: A huge population of people with lives that are barely worth living (just above a level where they would not consider their lives worth continuing).

World B: A smaller population where each person has a life that is positive and moderately happy.

World C: A very small population where each person has an extremely high level of wellbeing and an amazing life.

Most people would likely prefer World C to World B, and World B to World A, since lives with higher wellbeing seem preferable.

However, Parfit argues that if we accept:

Adding people with lives worth living is ethically neutral or good
A world with more total wellbeing is better
Then we are forced to conclude that at some point, adding more and more people with lives barely worth living (like in World A) eventually outweighs the value of the higher quality of life in worlds like B and C.

The "repugnant conclusion" is that we may be obligated to choose the huge population of lives just above the level of being worthwhile (World A) over any population with higher individual wellbeing simply because of the greater total sum of welfare.

This implication seems deeply counterintuitive to most people's moral intuitions about the value of population sizes versus quality of lives. It poses a challenge to certain moral principles and theories in population ethics (by the way, Parfit may be called the father of population ethics too). However, avoiding the conclusion requires rejecting or limiting some of the common principles invoked.

Parfit tried to crack this puzzle pretty much until his death. He was also on a career long quest to resolve conflicts between moral theories. In his huge "On What Matters" he came up with a great metaphor "Climbing the Mountain" meaning that philosophers adhering to consequentialism, kantianism and contractualism are essentially climbing the mountain of secular ethics from different sides. He tried really hard to resolve their differences, modifying and updating those theories. Some say he achieved immense progress on that. Others believe he didn't. Hence his "Reasons and Persons" book is considered a much more influential work than "On What Matters." Even though Singer believes the latter is even of greater value to secular ethics.

What is also of interest to me as a New York City resident is that Parfit spent a lot of time in New York. Edmonds mentioned some of the addresses where Parfit lived during various periods of his life. Even though he spent most of his life in Oxford, England, US, and NYC in particular, was an important part of his journey.

So yeah there we have it. A great biography for those few interested in philosophy. I bet there are people like that somewhere.

[Stefan Schubert · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a fascinating book about a highly unusual person and thinker.

I wrote an essay about it:

https://stefanfschubert.com/blog/2023...

I recently finished David Edmonds’ biography of Derek Parfit, who made seminal contributions to personal identity, population ethics, the philosophy of the future, and a range of other topics. I quite enjoyed this book. In addition to being an influential philosopher, Parfit was a special, interesting person.

One of the key themes of the book is Parfit’s extraordinary talent. In school, he was consistently at the top of his class. Edmonds gives numerous examples of his precocious verbal ability at a young age. He wrote this at age eleven:

"One thing I can never understand is how in all modern adventure stories written for children, the young boy hero always awakes at the crack of dawn and, the moment he opens his eyes, leaps out of bed, with as much vigour as a fresh springbok, and immediately rushes over to the window, flings wide the shutters, letting in a cold draught of damp morning air, as if he was half suffocated. This I have never, or ever will do."

But though the young Parfit already showed signs of the extraordinary talent he came to reap the fruits of, his character was different from what it would become. As a young person, he was relatively sociable and cultivated many conventional interests. But with time, he shed most of them in the pursuit of philosophy. He wore the same outfits and ate the same food. He avoided most social events, dedicating almost all of his time to his work.

Interestingly, Edmonds argues that Parfit’s talent, and his awareness of it, played a key role in these developments.

"Perhaps Parfit made a clear-headed choice. He decided that there were certain fundamental questions and that he was in the small category of people with the intellectual capacity to make progress on the answers. This was a privilege, but also a burden. The need to make progress weighed upon him. The urge to convince others weighed upon him. The fear of time running out weighed upon him.

//

Parfit sacrificed the ingredients that for most people make up a good life—the simple pleasures to be derived from family, friends, play, food, love. Because he had to climb the mountain from all sides, he missed out on so much—on walks in bluebell woods, on lounging on a beach and feeling sand between his toes, on nursing a glass of wine in companionship with people he liked, on joyful occasions such as birthday parties and weddings. ‘Ordinary’ people believe that these are among the things that matter.

//

We do not need to adopt Parfit’s narrow view about what matters in order to realize that forfeiting the things that other people find fulfilling is a risky strategy. If the work produced is of seminal value, then the life devoted to it might reasonably be judged as worthwhile, in spite of its self-sacrifice. But if it is not, then it will seem wasted and impoverished. Readers can turn to Parfit’s work, and reach their own verdict. My own view, and the reason I wrote this book, is that his gamble paid off."

It’s a striking idea: that Parfit might have felt that his special talent implied that he ought to develop a special personality.

*

But Parfit’s talent didn’t just transform his own personality. It also greatly affected the way he was treated by British society. He got a King’s Scholarship at Eton and went on to Oxford, where he won the prestiguous seven-years All Souls Prize Fellowship at age 24. He stayed on at the pure-research All Souls College until retirement, without ever getting a degree in philosophy. Throughout his life, British society showed great confidence in him—including at times when he hadn’t produced much, meaning they had to trust the judgements of peers who vouched for him—and gave him the best help they could offer. This special treatment is maybe especially striking to me as a Swede, since this isn’t how things are done in Scandinavia.

While one can discuss the details, overall there is a logic to the British strategy. Some people are extraordinary talented, and can go on to create great things. Not all of them succeed, but if only some do, special investments can turn out to have been worthwile. Just like Parfit took a personal gamble, so British society took a gamble by investing in him. And just like Parfit’s own, Britain’s gamble paid off handsomely.

[James Aitchison · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a delightful biography. It will be a treat for those interested in either philosophy or Oxford, but also deserves a wider audience.

The pairing of the subject and the biographer makes the book special. The subject, Derek Parfit (1942 – 2017), is perhaps the most important philosopher of the last fifty years, legendary for both his ideas and for his eccentricity. The biographer, David Edmonds, is an elegant and engaging writer, who was supervised as a philosophy student by Parfit.

The biography tells the story of how Parfit evolved from star student to become an eccentric, obsessively focused recluse. Parfit was the top scholar at Eton, and the top history undergraduate at Oxford. He then switched to philosophy and won a prize fellowship to the exclusive All Souls College, Oxford, where he remained for 43 years.

Over this time, Parfit developed many original ideas in personal identity, population ethics, rationality, normative ethics and metaethics, which he eventually set out in two seminal books, ‘Reasons and Persons’ in 1984 and ‘On What Matters’ in 2011. But while at All Souls Parfit increasingly narrowed his life to focus exclusively on philosophy, in the process becoming more and more intense and idiosyncratic.

Edmonds ’was inundated with anecdotes’:

'He wore the same outfit every day — grey suit, white shirt, red tie — so that there was no time-wasting and energy-sapping decision to be made each morning. He drank coffee, but boiling a kettle became an unnecessary luxury; so, he would throw a dollop of instant coffee into a mug and fill it with hot water from the tap.'

'He was so obsessed with Bernard Williams, that he had to get it out. When we’d meet up to talk, I knew within five minutes we’d be talking about why Williams didn’t have the concept of a normative reason.'

Why did Parfit change? 'Did All Souls allow him to be the person he always was — to give expression to his authentic self? Or did it warp him, slowly transforming him into the monomaniac he became?'

Edmonds thinks that a partial explanation is that Parfit was autistic, and no longer made the effort to conform to societal norms once he had tenure. But another reason was Parfit’s conviction that he needed to show that morality is objective, his higher calling to rescue ethics from non-cognitivism and prove that life matters.

Throughout, the biography is both entertaining and informative. Edmonds is clear, thorough and engaging in setting out the events of Parfit’s life, explaining Parfit’s ideas and painting the institutional and intellectual background. The quality of the writing makes this book an easy read – and I would also recommend the excellent audible recording. This biography gets my vote for the most enjoyable philosophy-related book.

My more full review: https://jamesaitchison.co.uk/?p=1906

[Stephan Leemen · Rating 5 out of 5]

In recente tijden verschenen al heel wat fijne biografieën van filosofen: J.S. Mill (A Victorian Firebrand), Hume (The Great Guide), Kant (typisch: "Kant" als titel), Spinoza (idem) en zelfs Adam Smith (An Enlightened Life). Een relatief onbewogen, om niet te zeggen gebeurtenisloos, filosofenleven stelt de biograaf natuurlijk voor problemen. (Denk maar aan Heines smalende opmerking dat je de levensgeschiedenis van Kant niet kunt schrijven "denn er hatte weder Leben noch Geschichte".) Een achtergrondschets biedt dan een oplossing. Dat geldt zeker voor mensen als Spinoza (wiens leven weliswaar niet zonder commotie was, maar zijn tijd is bijzonder rijk aan ontwikkelingen op allerlei vlakken), Kant en Smith. De auteur legt de veelvuldige relaties bloot tussen het werk van zijn hoofdfiguur en de tijds- en levensomstandigheden van de filosoof.

Toen ik verleden jaar zag dat Dave Edmonds een biografie van Parfit voorbereidde (met een oproep aan de wereld om anekdotes, verhalen en herinneringen over de man met hem te delen, was mijn nieuwsgierigheid geprikkeld. Hoe schrijf je in hemelsnaam een biografie van een man die heel zijn leven in instituties heeft geleefd (Eton, All Souls) en zo goed als niet interageerde met de sociale en politieke omstandigheden van zijn tijd? Parfit is misschien wel de beroemdste filosoof waarvan je nog nooit gehoord hebt.

Toch is Emonds boek een boeiend verhaal geworden zonder een erg dik nummer van een of ander roddelblad te zijn. We krijgen een beeld van de evolutie van een levenslustige primus op school en aan de universiteit tot een door zijn werk bezeten kluizenaar die nog nauwelijks sociale contacten onderhield. Zonder te veel details prijs te geven: Parfits lees- en schrijftempo, zijn perfectionisme, zijn wereldvreemdheid en gulheid, de afwezigheid van emoties als haat en afgunst spreken tot de verbeelding (al zou Parfit zelf waarschijnlijk niet geboeid zijn door zo'n biografie). Hoewel het relaas soms erg gedetailleerd wordt (met wie ging Parfit wanneer op vakantie en hoe verplaatsten ze zich) verliest Edmunds zich toch niet in haarklieverij. Gelukkig wordt ook Parfits werk in (zeer) kort bestek besproken. Edmunds geeft toe dat het wel kan lijken alsof hij turven van méér dan 500 pagina's wil samenvatten in een tweet. Maar het opzet van dat latere werk wordt wel duidelijk: Parfit geraakte steeds meer geobsedeerd door de meta-ethische vraag naar het ontologisch statuut van ethische waarden. Edmonds doet dat uitdrukkelijk voor een publiek van niet-filosofen. Elke nieuwe technische term wordt uitgelegd in de tekst (en niet in voetnoten).

Het geheel is een prachtig boek, soms grappig, soms ontroerend, vaak verbazingwekkend en altijd interessant. Dat Edmonds op het einde van dit werk een persoonlijke inschatting maakt van de mens en de filosoof Parfit maakt het helemaal af.

[Jane McNerney · Rating 3 out of 5]

[audio] In 2014, I wrote my senior thesis on Derek Parfit, and I did, in fact, read ALL of reasons and persons (no small feat). The topic of my thesis was about advanced directives vis-a-vis Parfit's theory of personhood. I was therefore totally primed to enjoy a biography on the man I spent a lot of time thinking about and whose work I engaged extensively with for an entire academic year. Needless to say, I was thrilled when Edmonds actually MENTIONS advanced directives in this work!

But even for someone who knew who Parfit was (I am DEFINITELY the target audience), and read his ONLY philosophical text in its entirety, I found that this work lacked perspective. Edmonds totally fangirls over Parfit. And my major takeaway was that Parfit was a weird guy. At the end, there's a very brief discussion about whether he suffered from Aspbergers (consensus was that he likely did). It was amusing to me to think of him riding his bike in the nude, eating the same thing every day.

It's clear that he was a genius. Everyone who knew him seemed to agree. But his singlemindedness on philosophy ultimately seemed sad to me. Because even within philosophical circles, even among modern day, American, philosophy majors, I'd wager that about 50% have even heard his name. Maybe this is a glass half empty v. half full scenario - that he did make this incredible contribution to philosophy without having ever really studied it at university. Though it left me with the question of - is that enough for a life? To make a significant academic impact, if that's all you spend your time on? It was really tragic to me that, at the end of his life, he ultimately admits that he didn't give Janice enough time or credit. In fact, she never even made it into a book's dedication. And while Edmonds admits these facts, he's seemingly blind to any broader implications.

Also, what happened to Mary Clemmey?! I googled and couldn't find.

Relatedly, in the discussion of the cover image, Edmonds mentions that one person commented on how the photo of Parfit was the only time he seemed happy. If you read between the lines in all of these anecdotes, it seems that you could certainly make the case that Parfit was a dour, friendless, grumpy old Brit.

This book was too long. It also almost assumes that it's audience doesn't know that much about philosophy (e.g., explains Kant's categorical imperative). I cannot imagine that anyone who did NOT know about philosophy would ever pick up this book.

My other take away, with now 9-years and law school between me and the Maggie Cleary that did that senior thesis, was how it is so obvious to me how philosophy and the law connect. Too-long, too-dense texts to engage with, outrageous hypotheticals, ivory tower living. There's really a fine line between philosophers and those who really dig into lengthy court opinions - if any line at all.

[Jacob Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve often said Parfit is my favorite philosopher, because his arguments about personal identity had a huge impact on my worldview. But all I previously knew about his personal life came from skimming the New Yorker profile, which left me with an image of him as a highly eccentric, socially-inept monomaniac. The really fascinating thing revealed in this biography is that he doesn’t seem to have always been like that. From childhood to early adulthood he sounds like a pretty well-rounded person whose extraordinary intelligence let him excel at a wide range of activities. Edmonds quotes Parfit’s friend Larry Temkin on the change:

I believe that when Derek was younger, he regarded his relationship with academic subjects as a kind of game. A very enjoyable one that he was really good at. … But, when he realized that he could be massively successful at philosophy, and then, more particularly, that he could make important and lasting contributions to moral philosophy, he was now dealing with issues that really mattered.

Edmonds also speculates that Parfit may have been autistic, masking at first but revealing his true personality under the stress of publishing his first book, and then having no further need to hide once he had the security of a permanent academic position.

(Parfit wasn’t quite a monomaniac even in his later years: he was a photographer, and he was also involved with the design of street lamps in Oxford, and he approached both of those pursuits with the same extreme perfectionism as he did philosophy.)

I find the breadth and depth of Parfit’s correspondence with other philosophers really inspiring. He had an insatiable desire for feedback on his own work and a compulsive need to incorporate and address every criticism. Moreover, Edmonds tells many stories of the astonishingly fast, lengthy, and detailed feedback that Parfit would give on the writing of more or less anyone who asked (if it was within his field of interest), even students of no reputation.

…unlike many philosophers—who see it as their role to attack the weakest links of an argument—he was more interested in identifying the seeds of a strong argument and then helping to water it so that it could bloom and flourish.

(crosspost)

[Daniel Crowley · Rating 5 out of 5]

David Edmonds, a seasoned philosopher and author, has delivered yet another compelling work in his latest book, "Parfit: A Philosopher and His Mission to Save Morality". The book serves as an intellectual biography, detailing the life and philosophical endeavours of one of the most influential moral philosophers of the 20th and early 21st centuries, Derek Parfit.

Edmonds has a natural ability to unravel complex philosophical ideas and theories with great clarity and simplicity, making this book highly accessible, not only to students and practitioners of philosophy but also to the general public who might have an interest in moral philosophy. His meticulous research, coupled with his lucid writing style, offers a comprehensive understanding of Parfit's groundbreaking work in ethics and personal identity.

The book is organized chronologically, tracing Parfit's early influences and education, his transformative years at Oxford, his work on personal identity and moral philosophy, culminating with his most influential work, "Reasons and Persons". Edmonds' portrayal of Parfit does not stop at his professional life but also includes intimate details of his personal life, painting a holistic picture of the man behind the philosopher.

Edmonds' insightful analysis of Parfit's theories and ideas reveals the magnitude and depth of Parfit's contribution to philosophy. Particularly impressive is the discussion on Parfit's work on personal identity and self-interest, which revolutionised the way we think about our existence and moral responsibility. Further, the exploration of Parfit's 'non-identity problem', a thought experiment that challenges traditional views on harm and benefit, is presented with admirable clarity and precision.

"Parfit: A Philosopher and His Mission to Save Morality" also delves into the less known yet equally fascinating aspects of Parfit's philosophical journey, his exploration of metaethics, and his ambitious project to establish a grand unified theory of morality. Edmonds' expert commentary on Parfit's views on 'objective list theory' and 'triple theory' will be of particular interest to those immersed in moral philosophy.

A notable highlight of the book is Edmonds' masterful recreation of the philosophical atmosphere and intellectual debates of the era that Parfit was a part of. The reader is transported to the lecture halls of Oxford, to the spirited philosophical discussions, and the intellectual rivalries, offering a glimpse into the world that shaped Parfit and his philosophy.

However, it's worth noting that while the book is rich in its content and rigorous in its analysis, it doesn't shy away from the criticisms and controversies that Parfit's theories stirred within the philosophical community. Edmonds' treatment of these aspects is fair, balanced, and thought-provoking.

In conclusion, "Parfit: A Philosopher and His Mission to Save Morality" is a brilliant exploration of Derek Parfit's life and philosophy. It offers an insightful and engaging journey into the world of one of the most significant moral philosophers of our time. This book is a must-read for anyone interested in moral philosophy, or simply looking to explore the ideas that have shaped contemporary thoughts on ethics, personal identity, and moral responsibility. David Edmonds has done a fantastic job of making Derek Parfit's philosophy accessible and engaging to all.

[Tim Rice · Rating 3 out of 5]

Don’t you see, if morality isn’t objective, our lives are meaningless!

3/5 - Good not great.

Parfit is a biography of Derek Parfit, a 20th century philospher who was mostly unknown by the general public but revered within his chosen community. Parfit was an eccentric – perhaps autistic – philosopher, who sacrificed nearly every other aspect of his life on the altar of his academic pursuits. The result was an individual who produced some of the most original and important philosophical contributions of the last 100 years while remaining completely obscure to the general public.

Parfit the book was…okay. Parfit the philosopher’s single minded approach to his life unfortunately makes for poor reading material. Much of a book reads like a list of events, rattled off one after another. “Then he got this scholarship and that one, then he graduated from school, then he applied for university”. Parfit was an agreeable, “selfish and benevolent” man who kept to himself and his work. He had no major rivalries, and was involved in no controversy at any point in his life. The man just worked…a LOT.

The subtitle of the book – “his mission to save morality” – calls out Parfit’s late life obsession to find an objective justification for moral behavior. Parfit was convinced that without any such theory the entire universe was completely and totally meaningless. I share Parfit’s conclusion in this matter, but not his belief that it’s possible to find an objective morality without invoking some sort of theistic entity. Indeed, this is the primary reason I have remained a Christian in my adult life.

While Parfit was an uncompelling story, the book nevertheless provoked in me an interest in Parfit’s philosophy. I have been on a bit of a philosophy kick recently and I look forward to examining Derek’s volumes soon.

https://timothyrice.org/parfit/

[Guillaume · Rating 5 out of 5]

Parfit was extremely dedicated to moral philosophy and meta-ethics. Not only was he intensely focused on his work, he was also aiming for perfection in writing his books, in a way that I think is very unique. I was particularly struck by one reply he gave to one of his collaborators complaining about failing to meet deadlines, by saying something along the lines of: Don’t you want the book to be as good as possible? I find it very interesting that Parfit was prioritizing writing books that would stand the test of time with a lot of rigor: approaching perfection as much as possible at the cost of publishing less than his academic peers.

The book is not only about Derek Parfit as a person – as that would be too shallow – but also explains at a high level some of the most important ideas that he gave to analytic philosophy. Parfit’s most important contributions were in discussing why personal identity is not what matters, population ethics – in particular discovering the repugnant conclusion, attempting to show that there are moral truths and unifying deontology, utilitarianism and contractualism.

It would have been better if the book gave more room to Parfit's ideas. In particular, I would have liked a book taking the time to explain in greater detail Parfit’s arguments in favor of moral realism. Moral anti-realism seems much more popular among non-philosophers than it is among philosophers and I think the world needs much more systematic and rigorous thinking about (secular) morality to move beyond the very subjectivist/relativist/nihilistic view that a lot of scientists or generally educated people have cornered themselves in.