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This introductory chapter begins with a brief discussion of the purpose of the book, which is to delineate and to practice a particularly austere form of naturalism. It coins a new term, ‘Second Philosophy’, to distinguish this form of naturalism from other ‘naturalism’, and introduces an idealized inquirer called the Second Philosopher. The Second Philosopher's approach is what is typically termed ‘scientific’, and she is fully capable of appreciating and addressing a wide range of questions we would just as typically regard as ‘philosophical’. An overview of the subsequent chapters is presented.

The Introduction asks why the final dialogue in the series Theaetetus-Sophist-Statesman-Philosopher is missing and considers the portrait of the philosopher it would have contained. Plato left the final dialogue unwritten to challenge his audience to work out its contents using the resources of the Parmenides and the existing series. The portrait includes two main components: first, the philosopher’s object — being — the subject-matter he studies; and second, the philosopher’s knowledge, his special expertise in dealing with that object. A third topic treated in the Introduction is the philosopher’s product, his discourse, and in particular Plato’s discourse. The Introduction discusses Plato’s written dialogues and their purpose of training students through practice solving philosophical problems. The Introduction ends by setting out the dialectical pattern used to bring the philosopher into view, a pattern matching that in the philosophical exercise in the second part of the Parmenides.

Chapter 3 argues that a second round of the philosophical exercise concerns the form of being, the philosopher’s object, and spans parts of the Theaetetus and Sophist. Plato’s Socrates presents two opposed positions, the Heraclitean view that being is changing, and the Parmenidean view that being is at rest. After both positions have been refuted, Plato’s Stranger seeks to reconcile them in the Battle of the Gods and Giants in the Sophist and defines being as the capacity to remain the same (rest) and to act on or be affected by other things (change). No sooner does he find a middle way than he undermines it in the fourth step of the dialectical pattern, rendering being totally mysterious. This book contends that the audience must find its way back to the constructive solution at step three to locate Plato’s philosopher.

This chapter discusses the debate involving Dewey's philosophy of growth and Ralph Waldo Emerson, whom Dewey calls the “Philosopher of Democracy”. Emerson is the source of American pragmatism; however, Stanley Cavell stands out in virtue of his eloquent resistance to any easy connection between Emerson and Dewey. The debate suggests that Emerson offers another framework of critical reconstruction in Dewey which is beyond Hegel and Darwin.

The philosopher Thomas Hobbes turned the conception of sovereignty toward the generality of lawgiving rather than the singularity of judgment, a displacement that paved the path for the transfer of sovereignty from king to Parliament. Hobbes’s conception of equity and critique of the common law played an important role in this alteration. The Act of Oblivion passed by Parliament after the Restoration, which Hobbes himself analyzed in his Dialogue between a Philosopher and a Student of the Common Lawes, provides a particularly striking example of how the change unfolded on a conceptual level; in this instance, something like the pardon, which represented the act of sovereignty most closely linked with the singularity of the monarch, was itself generalized and transferred to Parliament instead of being exercised exclusively by the king.

What is bioethics for, indeed what is ethics for? This introductory biographical essay gives some sense of what I have been trying to do in my life in bioethics and of some of the influences and events that have shaped its course. I explain what brought me into bioethics and science ethics and why I continue to feel that bioethics is important and worth the serious attention of anyone concerned with the future of humanity. I sketch a sort of intellectual biography which may help to situate my ideas and approach to bioethics in some seminal events in my life. These events start when I was twelve years old with the death if my parents and continue through periods as a factory worker, a salesman, a lawyer, then a student and finally a professional philosopher.

This chapter analyzes pertinent fragments of Porphyry’s De philosophia ex oraculis to show the weakness of Gustavus Wolff’s original thematic classification of the three books and to argue that the hypothesis of Wolff and Bidez that Porphyry’s works follow a clearly defined ideological pattern before and after he met Plotinus should be discarded. An analysis of the Prologue of the De philosophia ex oraculis is given to demonstrate that the “elitist interpretation” of the work must be rejected because Porphyry included a way for the salvation of the lower soul for the educated masses in Book I. Various fragments are examined to show that theurgy played an important role in the latter. And the anonymous philosopher mentioned by Lactantius is referring to Porphyry.

Fifty years ago there were no stored-program binary electronic computers. Indeed, in the mid 1940s computer was a job description; the computer was a person. Much has happened in the ensuing half-century. whereas the motto of the 1950s was “do not bend, spindle, or mutilate,” we now have become comfortable with GUI wIMP (i.e., Graphic User Interface; windows, Icons, Mouse, and Pointers). whereas computers once were maintained in isolation and viewed through large picture windows, they now are visible office accessories and invisible utilities. whereas the single computer once was a highly prized resource, modern networks now hide even the machines’ geographic locations. Naturally, some of our perceptions have adapted to reflect these changes; however, much of our understanding remains bound to the concepts that flourished during computing’s formative years. For example, we have moved beyond thinking of computers as a giant brain (Martin 1993), but we still hold firmly to our faith in computing’s scientific foundations. The purpose of this book is to look forward and speculate about the place of computing in the next fifty years. There are many aspects of computing that make it very different from all other technologies. The development of the microchip has made digital computing ubiquitous; we are largely unaware of the computers in our wrist watches, automobiles, cameras, and household appliances. The field of artificial intelligence (AI) sees the brain as an organ with some functions that can be modeled in a computer, thereby enabling computers to exhibit “intelligent” behavior. Thus, their research seeks to extend the role of computers through applications in which they perform autonomously or act as active assistants. (For some recent overviews of AI see waldrop 1987; Crevier 1993.) In the domain of information systems, Zuboff (1988) finds that computers can both automate (routinize) and informate, that is, produce new information that serves as “a voice that symbolically renders events, objects, and processes so that they become visible, knowable, and sharable in a new way” (p. 9).

Explains the curricula included in the proposed higher education of the future rulers: arithmetic, geometry, stereometry, astronomy, harmony, and dialectic. Once again addresses questions of what Plato thought about mathematical objects and how he talks about these in Book VII of the Republic. Considers debates about just how and why Plato assigned such an important role to mathematical studies in the training of the power of knowledge for the future rulers. Considers the relationship of “formal” as opposed to “empirical” study, particularly in Plato’s requirement of astronomy as the penultimate mathematical study. Discusses what we can discern about Plato’s conception of dialectic and how that fits as the final element in the “highest studies” that prepare the future rulers to begin to engage in political rule. Shows how in spite of these studies culminating in the highest cognitive achievements, they must be followed by fifteen years of political apprenticeship, and why only after this training can Plato’s best students become philosopher rulers.

Most scholars believe that in dialogues such as the Republic and Phaedrus Plato presents a moral psychology that is more sophisticated and plausible than Socrates’ intellectualism by allowing for intra-psychic conflict; knowledge alone is no longer a sufficient guarantee of right action. But scholars also maintain overwhelmingly that knowledge of the Forms, which the Philosopher-Kings of Plato’s Republic possess, by itself motivates them to do good and virtuous actions in the sensible world, and in particular motivates them to rule in the Kallipolis. Thus Plato is an intellectualist after all, with the caveat that the knowledge that is sufficient for virtue is knowledge of Forms. It is argued instead that there is no textual evidence that knowledge of the Forms by itself ever motivates the knower to do anything at all (except to continue to contemplate the Forms). Considering texts from the Symposium, Phaedo, and especially the Republic, this chapter shows that knowledge of the Forms is consistently described as a stasis, an end, and does not motivate the knower to act in the sensible world. Further, given that motivation does not stem from knowledge of the Forms, it is argued that Plato’s account of moral motivation is quite similar to Aristotle’s: motivation to act morally stems from nature and proper habituation, for philosophers as well as for ordinary people.