So far as I know, only two readers have paid much attention to my 1953 proposal. G. K. Plochmann was quick to point out its limitations, since the definition of "System" I was using seemed not to apply to the major work of modern philosophers in the 17th and 18th centuries. More recently, Donald Sherburne has suggested that the project is a fine idea, and one that should be carried out. His enthusiasm has persuaded me to resume the discussion.

Over a hundred instances of the word ὕμνος from extant archaic poetry demonstrate that the Greek hymn was understood broadly as a song of praise. The majority of these instances comes from Pindar, who regularly uses the term to describe his poems celebrating athletic victors. Indeed, Pindar and his contemporaries saw the ὕμνος as a powerful vehicle for praising gods, heroes, men and their achievements—often in service of an ideological agenda. Writing a century later Plato used the term frequently and (...) with much the same range. A survey of his usage reveals instances of ὕμνοι for gods,daimones, heroes, ancestors, leading citizens, noble deeds, sites and landscapes. Despite abundant evidence of Plato's own practice, studies of the Greek hymn posit an extreme narrowing of the genre in the classical period and cite the philosopher as the sole witness to, if not the originator of, this development. Two passages in particular, one from theRepublicand one from theLaws, are seen to support the claim that by the fourth centuryb.c.e.the term ὕμνος refers exclusively to songs for gods. InRepublicBook 10, we find the memorable edict on poetic censorship: ‘But we must know that of poetry only ὕμνοι for the gods and ἐγκώμια for the good must be admitted into our city.’LawsBook 3 offers what appears to be an even more straightforward pronouncement: ‘Back then our music was divided according to its various types and arrangements; and a certain type of song was prayers to the gods, and these were called by the name ὕμνοι.’ From these two statements has arisen the consensus that Plato saw a divine recipient as the defining feature of the ὕμνος and, moreover, that this position reflects thecommunis opiniofrom at least the fourth centuryb.c.e.onward. (shrink)

The interest in Leibniz's early writings was not spurred on by any doctrinaire motive; for instance, there was no temptation, as there has been in the case of some other thinkers, to hypothesize a youthful view which was subsequently rejected in some dramatic way comparable to Aristotle's break with the Academy or to Kant's being awakened from his dogmatic slumber. So if scholars should come to conclude that there is no essential or major difference between Leibniz's earliest and his latest (...) doctrines, the conclusion would not shock us; and neither would the opposite conclusion. We are uncommitted. (shrink)

The past decade has been Hellenistic rather than Hellenic, a Silver rather than a Golden Age. But if it has not been a midday, it has been no twilight either.

Such a thesis is counter to prevailing trends among contemporary philosophers. All that is about to be maintained is that facts may be regarded as entities, i.e. that it is legitimate and tenable so to regard them; this is much less than saying that they must be so regarded, and that anyone who declined to make use of the category of facts would be mistaken. Yet even so weak a thesis will be viewed askance by many; those who concede its (...) meaningfulness and logical possibility will still, a large proportion of them, dismiss it on other grounds-particularly on the ground of superfluity. And precisely one of the reasons why we have selected this particular thesis for defense, is as an occasion to examine the weight and force of Ockham's Razor. (shrink)

Is language a social art by some necessity, or merely in point of fact? Is society indispensable in principle, or merely very useful in practice? Is language a social art in its origin only, or also in its definitive nature?

This is the story of philosophy in ancient and classical Greece. Robert Brumbaugh brings out the intrinsic and current importance in the development of Western philosophy from Thales to Aristotle. He emphasizes the insights and ideas that have proven crucial to later Western thought and reveals the success of the classical thinkers in forming systematic philosophic syntheses. This book is a useful introduction to philosophy. The ancient Greek discoveries led to the major systems used by the West today.

It is Frege's third contribution that makes the point of departure for the present paper. Not merely did Frege show how to manipulate symbols more exactly; he also gave a searching account of what these symbols mean. Consider a philosophical problem that arises out of the simplest arithmetic. When we say that 5 = 2 + 3, what do we mean? Do we mean that 5 is identical with 2 + 3? But in some ways 5 and 2 + 3 (...) are obviously different. Or do we mean that 5 and 2 + 3 are equal but not identical, equality being a relation that falls short of complete identity? But in that case, some ordinary ways of speaking in mathematics must be false. Suppose a pupil is asked for the positive square root of 25. The phrasing of the question implies that there is one and only one. No doubt he may answer, '5'. But then it follows that the answer '2 + 3' is not allowable, since ex hypothesi 5 and 2 + 3, though equal, are not identical. Yet ordinarily the answer '2 + 3' would be regarded as strange but not as wrong. (shrink)

THE PURPOSE of this discussion is a double one. I want to show, in the first place, how a Platonic attempt to describe the structures of time that we encounter in becoming presupposes a reference to the more stable structures of the realm of being. The result of this presupposition is a temptation to substitute the more stable forms for the less intellectually congenial ones, thus turning "time" into a dimension of space or a series of arithmetical "units." This can (...) only be corrected by reversing normal Platonic "explanatory direction" and generating the appearances of time on the several levels of the Platonic cosmos by adding increments of nonbeing and irregularity to the pure forms of arithmetic and geometry. In the second place, this Platonic generation shows exactly why an appeal to the structure of language is of no help whatever in determining the nature of time, real or apparent. Because the attempt is so often made to start with language structure as a key to time, I consider my demonstration that this is misguided an important one. I concede that my discussion of the issue is not indifferent to system-frames, but radically Platonic. The reason is in part the elegance with which the Platonic system locates talking about time on the level of eikasia, the realm of shadows on the wall of Plato’s Cave. (shrink)

Delivered only months before his death, the Gifford Lectures allowed Donald MacKay to clarify and to emphasize his views on many important issues. MacKay stressed the primacy of personal experience and the differences between persons, brains, and machines. These positions are reviewed here, as are some of the reasons why MacKay may remain relatively unknown among American psychologists, philosophers, and neuroscientists.

If necessity is a generic notion, then, like any generic notion, it becomes specified not by a criterion as such but by a differentia. The differentia of logical necessity is that the denial of a logically necessary proposition is self-contradictory; one of our best criteria of logical necessity is that after careful consideration we see that the denial of the proposition is self-contradictory.

This book recognizes and questions a key assumption about time which is shared by common sense and philosophy—the assumption that time, like a single substance or a homogeneous quality, is subject to the law of contradiction. This leads to the logical conclusion that among different and mutually exclusive accounts of time, whether in science, practical action, or fine art, only one can be the “right” one. Four such accounts are shown here to be internally consistent though mutually incompatible, suggesting that (...) the initial assumption is mistaken, and that in some way each alternative concept of time must be incomplete. Brumbaugh suggests that we must choose the one appropriate to a particular purpose: artistic creation, technological efficiency, discovery of mathematical laws of nature, or work with biological and social phenomena. The selection should allow coherence between that aspect of reality which the selected time concept emphasizes, and the aspect of reality most relevant to a successful execution of our purpose. (shrink)

This study of Western philosophic systems, their types, history, relations, and projected future in the next half century, stems from Robert S. Brumbaugh’s forty-year fascination with the paradox of the many consistent overarching systems of ideas that are nevertheless mutually exclusive. Brumbaugh argues that when we isolate these systems’s patterns and look at them more abstractly, they consistently fall into four main types, and the interaction of these four types of explanation and order is a dominant theme in (...) the history of Western philosophy. In Brumbaugh’s view these four philosophic systems are not, as some critical historians and thinkers have claimed, so different that they are mutually unintelligible, forcing us to make a choice among them that is entirely arbitrary. But neither are they, as a majority of past thinkers and historians have hoped, simply parts of some single "right" or "orthodox" scheme. Their mutual understanding requires a method of transformation that interprets one to another without destroying their diversity. The history of Western philosophy from the fifth century A.D. to the present shows a pattern of alternating revolutions in systematic method and direction of explanation. Brumbaugh feels that the pattern is continuing in a change toward a revised Platonism, just beginning with the twenty-first century. He anticipates that it will be a Platonism of a new texture, one that has matured and learned a great deal in the course of the adventures of its ideas through space and time. (shrink)

This present study began as the author's extension and application of ideas from Whitehead's work to the subject of education, using a chapter from Whitehead's book Science and the Modern World and a pamphlet, The Rhythm of Education as the starting point.

When Mr. Levinson refers to the etymologies as a "circus parade" without underscoring the fact that they take up better than half of the dialogue, he is suppressing a detail that fits his figure of speech rather badly: surely this is an extravagantly long parade for the one-ring Heraclitean-taming act that follows! If this major section were an unordered collection of linguistic facts, puns, and free associations, one could only think that Plato's usual uncanny sense of coherence and proportion had (...) lapsed completely when he perpetrated it. (shrink)

This paper is an application of a more general formula of transformation which seems to sharpen the issues and explain the opposed reactions involved in treating Aristotle as a contemporary philosopher. In my discussion, I intend to show that Aristotle can be read as a Pythagorean scientist if we concentrate on his applications of mathematics; that he must be read as an anti-Platonic intuitionist if we concentrate on his account of the nature and foundations of mathematics; that the way in (...) which he conceives his theory and practice to be related exactly reverses our contemporary idea of what constitutes explanation and what constitutes pre-demonstrative inquiry. (shrink)

It has seemed to me since, from reviewers' comments, and from my own reactions, that while today we all appreciate the discovery of new sources, philosophers whose central interest is in general practice or in specialties other than classics have not recognized nor appreciated the importance of the textual dimension of such works as Plato Latinus III. I hope to show, in the present critical study of the Latin version of the first part of the Parmenides which forms one section (...) of the complete book, first, that the history of Plato's text should be a topic of general interest to philosophers at large; second, as a case in point, what the Latin Parmenides shows and suggests about that textual history. (shrink)

There is no agreement at all, however, among translators, editors, and scholars, as to what is the number of problems that Aristotle proposes, nor what are the relations of importance among them. The list is given sometimes as fourteen or fifteen, sometimes as six, as nine, as twelve, as eight, and various other numbers. To a reader remembering the meticulous detail with which Aristotle told his students just how to construct topical notebooks and outlines, it seems quite unthinkable that he (...) could have poured this maze of problems over his audience like a bath-attendant, and left them to shift for themselves in discovering its intended organization. A priori, therefore, we would expect some indication within Aristotle's text of the coordination and subordination of his set of problems. (shrink)

As a beginning, consider the perennial ethical and legal problem of freedom versus determinism. But now put this in the context of the relation of expert testimony to criminal law. As psychiatry and social science develop greater explanatory power, we seem destined to an extension of the defense of irresistible impulse to any criminal action. A legal psychology which talks about "a corrupt will" will run the risk of being dismissed as an "unscientific anachronism," and jurisprudence will be replaced by (...) sociology. (shrink)