pro libertate net

Experimental philosophy is not as young an academic field as it might seem. Not only do I know philosophers that already relied on (economic) experiments far longer than wikipedia dates the birth of the field, Appiah quite correctly points to a number of ancient and classical philosophers who relied on empirical research. And he points to a number of empirical scientist in psychology, sociology, and economics who without hesitation can be classified as philosophers as well. Indeed, I am quite convinced that all these academic disciplines not only share some of their objectives but have a substantial overlap.

Appiah’s Experiments in Ethics is a remarkable historical and methodological account of morality from the philosopher’s perspective. He offers a balanced view, he never sugarcoats problems with the philosophical methodology and does not shy away from picking to pieces what he thinks is a futile exercise in thought experiments. He advocates a joint approach of the different disciplines to “sustain what’s good in our lives.” He never entertains the illusion that there is a simple answer. In contrast, he candidly admits the complexity of research on morality, what constitutes goodness.

Even though the book – as seems typical for a philosophical treatise – poses more questions than it offers answers I rather enjoyed reading it…

In the end, one of the most important insights that Appiah is offering his readers is in my opinion: “In life, the challenge is not so much to figure out how best to play the game; the challenge is to figure out what game you’re playing.”

I obviously like the occasional mystery thriller. The Sword of the Templars, however, almost made me the put it aside. There are numerous historical inaccuracies (some are already noted here) that I do not even want to point out. On top of that, the author Paul Christopher tries to be polygot and fails miserably. Grammar and orthography are so often wrong that it distracts from the actual story.

The story itself is a little bit too fast, there are too many characters and too many places – actually, the authors seems to know this as he even lets one of his protagonists refer to Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego. Additionally, the story is mainly driven by the protagonists’ actions that are not really motivated by the character traits the authors wanted to assign to them. All in all, the book reads more like an elaborate draft in lieu of a well polished novel.

The only thing I really liked about this book is the clever interpretation of the Templar’s treasure that is to be found in the end.

Here is another instance of my last December’s book buying spree: Neal Stephenson’s Anathem. I loved this guy’s Cryptonomicon.

While being compelling Stephenson’s books also have a big downside, they are huge tomes. It takes ages to finish one – or rather you are so captivated that everything else is afflicted. I do not think that I will start his Baroque Cycle any time soon for that reason.

Yet, Anathem made it on my reading list. In contrast to Cryptonomicon it’s more obviously science fiction even though both novels won the Locus Award for the best science fiction novel. Anathem’s story does not even take place on Earth. Also in contrast to some of his other works it does not relate to (the advancement of and effects of) technology, its focus is much more philosophical. Thus, as a side effect you’ll learn something about Philosophy.

I’d like to point to a similarity and contrast to a completely unrelated work. As Tolkien did, so does Stephenson. Both invented a new language that is spoken in their fictional worlds. Both authors like to sidetrack from the actual plot and include lengthy elaborations. Granted, Stephenson did not go to the same length as Tolkien when inventing a new language, his diversions are, however, certainly not shorter. Yet, they do not feel like diversions at all. They are integral for the story. And this is something that many (me not included, though) do not seem to feel about Tolkien’s detailed elaborations on Middle-earth’s landscape. I think this clearly speaks in favor of Stephenson.

Reading statistics or econometrics textbooks cover to cover is certainly not something any “normal” person would do. So, I am not normal. And so ain’t Mostly Harmless Econometrics by Angrist and Pischke.

You cannot learn econometrics just by reading this book, you would need another textbook for the basic econometric theory. Yet, MHE offers something often not found in your standard textbook: an applied perspective. It addresses issues that may arise from empirical work in labor and micro-economics focusing on identification of causal effects, illustrating the methods and pitfalls using empirical field studies that either rely on natural experiments (happenstance data) or field experiments.

Their brief chapter on nonstandard (i.e. nonstandard according to the theoretical ideal, the real world looks different) standard errors is, for instance, astonishingly accessible and almost makes me revise my standpoint on modelling the error structure (using multilevel designs) vs adjusting standard errors.

I do not know whether science geeks are still attracted by Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Angrist and Pischke, sure, are. Not only is the title of their textbook an obvious reference to Adams’ work, they start every chapter with a little Adams quote. Something I did, too, when I was still in graduate school. This gives their book a slightly brighter, less earnest tone. All in all, it is certainly not as dry as many other econometrics textbooks.

As an additional added value, Angrist and Pischke set up a companion website to their companion where they post corrections (there are already quite a number of erratas) and comments to MHE.

Jon Elster’s inaugural lecture at the College de France is an instructive essay on reason, emotions and their link to rationality. In contrast to most of his other books that are quite heavy tomes (in volume and content), Reason and Rationality is a nice little book that really invites the reader to open it.

I wonder whether his presentation was as well delivered as this little book was written. Maybe I will finally dare to start reading his other contributions that are waiting on my book shelf – some already for several years.

Every once in a while I get on a little book buying spree. Either because I am in London at Waterstones and had enough time to leaf through a number of books or because I just saw something in a store and decided to buy it later on the net. In that case I start to work through a list that may be a littler bit longer. Lev Grossman’s The Magicians was on my most recent book wish list… I only later found out that it is also on the Best Books of 2009 list of several newspapers.

Does it belong on such a list? Yeah, maybe.

The book is divided in several “sub-books” that are considerably different in content and atmosphere, reflecting the different stages of the protagonist’s personal pursuit of happiness. While the first part is a little bit like Harry Potter for grown-ups – the slightly depressed and manic “hero” gets to a magic college – the second part feels like a LARP gone bad.

I like Grossman’s nerdy, non-positive, dirty, bleak, and yet romantic picture of the world. His protagonists are no heroes, they are not infallible. Their quest is not motivated by a noble moral and they are taken for a ride. And even the happy end has a sad undertone.

The Magicians is thus at least on my personal Good Books of 2009 list.