U.S. House Speaker Mike Johnson described Iran's majority faith tradition, Shiite Islam, as a 'misguided religion' while discussing the ongoing U.S. strikes against Iran on March 4, 2026.
It started with a book launch in 2021. I'd been living in London as a social media journalist when I asked my then-publication's culture editor to send me to one of these exclusive-sounding events, as 1) I'd never been and 2) I just really wanted to be a person who "has a book launch to go to." Thankfully, there was one that exact day-and he put my name on the list for the release of Mary Beard's Emperor of Rome. Huzzah.
In antiquity, many opined about "the elements" in combination. Around 2500 years ago, Leucippus and Democritus founded the idea of atoms. Perhaps everything, they opined, was composed of indivisible building blocks. In the late 1700s, hydrogen and oxygen were discovered. Circa 1804, John Dalton revived atomism to explain chemical behavior. Then in 1869, Mendeleev developed the periodic table: organizing the atoms.
A mentor once told me that, when writing a research statement for a professorship, I had to start with the most ambitious pitch I could imagine - and then go ten times bigger. It's tricky enough to do this as a cosmologist, given that the topic of study is the entire Universe. But there is a quest that is more ambitious still: to find out 'what are we doing here?'
Many colleges and universities have made cuts in these programs, often bolstering STEM programs at their expense. It's a situation that has sparked no small amount of impassioned editorials. The headline of a recent article at The Guardian by Alice Speri referenced an 'existential crisis at U.S. universities,' and Speri's reporting features numerous examples of undergraduate and graduate programs facing cuts or outright elimination.
The Theory of Communicative Action, his 1980s magnum opus, was not (to put it mildly) as accessible as some of his newspaper opinion pieces. But its central idea—that our nature as linguistic beings puts reason and the search for consensus at the core of who we are—remains an antidote both to intellectual relativism and Trumpian realism, which elevates national or individual self-interest above all other sources of human motivation.
Spinoza was an heir to both Jewish and Christian culture-in Amsterdam he grew up in a Jewish community within a Protestant society-yet he distanced himself from both these religions. He did not want to be a member of a religious institution with strict, prescriptive codes of belonging and belief. He feared-quite rightly-that a [institutional religion would constrain philosophical freedom].
Many philosophers strike me as like Polish apparatchiks in 1983-they turn up to work and do what they did yesterday just because they don't know what else to do, not because they seriously believe in the system they are maintaining. I think it's not been fully appreciated how much of a blow it is to the confidence of the field's youth that scientific ambitions are increasingly abandoned as untenable.
Unlike me, Dan Dennett, or-I suspect-most scientists studying the brain, Richard maintains that science is: i) neutral between the view that consciousness is (to simplify) identical to parts of your brain and what goes on inside of it, and the view that consciousness is a fundamental property of reality, found in all particles of matter (or, for that matter, other theories such as dualism and idealism) and ii) to be sharply distinguished from philosophy.
A drawn circle is at least something physical. You can see it, touch it, erase it. The skeptic can still say, "Circles are grounded in physical reality. Justice is different; it's just an idea in your head." So let's talk about the number two. Point to it. Not two apples, not two fingers, not a numeral on a page-that's just a symbol.
I've interviewed over 200 people for articles, from startup founders to burned-out middle managers, and I've discovered something fascinating: intellectual depth isn't about fancy degrees or knowing obscure facts. It shows up in how we communicate. When certain habits dominate someone's style, it reveals a concerning lack of curiosity and critical thinking that goes beyond just being annoying-it fundamentally limits their ability to engage with the world meaningfully.
I have been teaching Introduction to Philosophy at least once a year since 2012, beginning in my second year of graduate school at the CUNY Graduate Center. Teaching in New York City shaped me in countless ways, and each new iteration of "Intro" has pushed me to refine the course-even if only incrementally. The class I teach now at Binghamton University looks very different from the one I first taught as a graduate student using a borrowed syllabus.
I am using the word pragmatism in a specific sense. I am not speaking about being pragmatic as a political tactic; deciding what issues should be given priority and what battles to choose, or a willingness to compromise, or a recognition that there are limits to what can be accomplished at any time. I am writing now about pragmatism in a meaning closer to its philosophical origin in the writings of William James-that truth is not found in abstract principles or beliefs,
This APA Blog series has broadly explored philosophy and technology with a throughline on the influence of technology and AI on well-being. This month's post brings those themes into focus recounting a vital Washington Post Opinion piece by friend of the APA Blog, Samuel Kimbriel. Samuel is the founding director of the Aspen Institute's Philosophy and Society Initiative and Editor at Large for Wisdom of Crowds. We collaborated on a Substack Newsletter about intellectual ambition, building on his essay, Thinking is Risky.
