I've read numerous overview-type books on 20th century philosophy and this is the best history on the subject ever written. Passmore won Firsts in both English Literature and Philosophy when he was a student, an extraordinary feat, and an early indication of his talent in creating a scholarly history such as this.

The book focuses mainly on epistemology and metaphysics, with excellent sections on many modern movements such Wittgenstein and ordinary language philosophy, Logical Positivism and the philosophy of science, the contribution of modern logicians such as Quine and Tarski, Russel and Moore's influence, Whitehead and critical naturalism, and many other important topics.

This beauty is one of the best short-history of philosophies I've ever read. You end each chapter with a lot of hints and links for philosophical ideas and names, and a clear path through the discussions over the years. It will do for you what only a very good professor having a special talk with you would...It's a bit difficult to get, but is one of those books that are always very useful when you need a quick insight on a period you don't know that well: it will give you a picture inmediately, you'll feel lucky to have it in your shelf, in your hands, and in your memory...yes, I guess that you know now that this is a very much loved book for me. It concentrates on epistemology, touching some logic, and connects the 19th century developements with the beggining of phenomenology via Brentano, Husserl, Heidegger, Sartre, and Merleau Ponty...Perfect for unraveling the difficult mesh of "metaphysics" in the past century. Buy it, buy it, buy it...if you do not like it, blame me, or greet me otherwise.

John Passmore's book first appeared a number of decades ago, but is still setting the agenda for those with a concern for the environment who think that support humanity's actions in living and developing a coherent society and a care for nature are not mutually exclusive concerns. Passmore's argument is basically that man's concern with the tratement of the environment is basically an argument between people and that it is a mistake to assume that nature or animals can have any rights in an area in which they have no consciouness. Passmore contends, (in a very rough way), that rights cannot be bestowed on beings without a consciousness. We may decide to protect the environment for many reason, aesthetic, a desire to sustain bio-diversity, security of resources for medical research, etc. But the essential element in all such decisions is that a human or humans, not an animal or a plant make the decision! As we cannot abrogate to overselves the right of proxy to what a non-sentient animal, plant or habitat which 'desire', we can only make ethical decisions on the basis of human morality as it affects other humans. Therefore, Passsmore contends, we must make our environmental descisions on the basis of 'conserving' the environment for humans, not on 'preserving' it for a nature that can have no awareness of these ethical decisions.

In reality this may make no difference to individual actions- the preservationsist chained to the redwood who wishes to save the tree from the loggers on account of its contribution to nature's spirit, may be joined on his chain by a conservationist who wishes to preserve the tree for the aesthetic benefit of future generations of humanity. Passmore does not condone treating nature as a resource at the total whim of humanity, but of instead the prioritising of mankind's legitimate needs in any equation that involves an intervention in the environment. Thus if a wetland on the edge of a human settlement is a home to a significant malaria-hosting mosquito colony, the 'conservationist' decision whether to drain it will be a balance between the loss of bio-diversity and the healthy of the people of the town. In some cases the decision will fall on draining the swamp, in others the conservationist will say, the wetland should remain on account of its other benefits.

It was the call for new standard of ethics to meet the growing environmentalist movement that promoted Passmore to publish this book. He claims, (and this reviewer finds his claim complelling), that traditional ethical standards are perfectly adequate to meet the challenge of concern for nature. Instead of a new standard based on the rights of nature, Passmore contends, that a more effective and coherent avenue in protecting the environment is in the prosecuting of 'vadalism' -damaging the enviroment without sufficent benefit to mankind.

Since the publication of the book, Passmore stand has been condemed by many in the environmentalist movement, but without in this reviewer's judgement, his case has not been seriously damaged by any of the attacks. To those of us who care deeply for the environment, but also care for the legitimate rights of humanity to live in that environment, Passmore has set the standard. Read this book, even if you disagree it will give much food for thought.

You might no think it, but the concept of the perfectibility of man has been widely held by philosophers. Of course, what they meant by perfectibility hasn't always been the same. This topic is the subject of the very enjoyable work by John Passmore. He discusses the attitude of philosophers and theologians from antiquity to the present, as well as touching on writers such as Orwell, Shaw and Zamiatin. Needless to say, many have opposed human perfectibility and Passmore devotes sections of the work to opponents such as Augustine, Luther and Calvin. For example, Calvin writes: "He who comes nearest to perfection has not yet advanced half-way." [p. 162.]

This book is lengthy, but you can use it as a reference work on thinkers. For example, there is a fascinating discussion of Teilhard de Chardin, who as Passmore points out, combines almost all the diverse themes found in perfectabilist literature. [p. 410.] Even many who have read a fair amount about Teilhard might be surprised to see his almost grudging support for totalitarian regimes of Europe in the 40s.

THE SILENCE OF JOHN PASSMORE

Strangely for a work written by philosopher who has mastered logic and close reasoning, John Passmore's memoir gives us an account of his life and times which is at odds with the basic proposition contained in its title.

Publication of "Memoirs of a Semi-detached Australian" was long promised. We were led to expect an autobiographical account of the life and times of a distinguished philosopher who is resolutely Australian while also being strongly connected to a wider world of learning and speculation.

But the memoir before us, while providing valuable insights into Passmore's early life and career in Australia and his first pilgrimage to England, tells us hardly anything at all about a crucial institutional link that did much to ensure that he succeeded in reconciling two potentially incompatible loyalties.

For the first three and a half decades of his life John Passmore was fully absorbed in the life of his native Sydney. He progressed from Manly Public School to Sydney Boys' High School. Although no sportsman, he was not sidelined as a "swot" since Sydney Boys' High was proudly meritocratic. Education and teaching were esteemed, producing an environment in which Passmore was entirely at home.

Passmore excelled as a student of Philosophy, English and History. Along with his future wife, another bright and energetic undergraduate, he was active in the Free Thought and Literary Societies, making his debut as a writer with a still highly readable pamphlet on T S Eliot. He abandoned the Roman Catholicism of his youth and gravitated to the dominant intellectual cult at Sydney University which revolved around Professor John Anderson.

Passmore's distinguished - and totally unexpected - career as a salaried philosopher began in 1935 when Anderson asked him to teach Logic (he was younger than many of his students). After the war Passmore was entitled to a year study's leave abroad. He took the "customary pilgrimage" to England although he insisted, democratically, on living in London rather than Oxford during his overseas stint. In contrast to his confidence in mastering the intricacies of academic philosophy, he was not at all certain of his ability to cope with the chilly niceties of post-war English society. A sizeable segment of the memoir is devoted to his efforts to comprehend middle-class English mores.

Amidst the pettiness and perceived snubs merit was rewarded. As at Sydney University, brains, adaptability and hard work paid off for Passmore. His erudition, gained after years of voracious reading in remote Sydney, was a prized asset in England. From now on he could count on support from the highest academic quarters when London publishers needed to commission scholarly books on philosophy.

In his memoir Passmore is at pains to point out he was never fully seduced by the charms of the Home Counties and their aloof inhabitants. His truculent Andersonian legacy reasserted itself, producing an explicit rejection of the class system in England and the commercialism of the United States.

Expatriation (other than to New Zealand for a few years in the early 1950s) was ruled out even though the temptation to apply to work in a British university was sometimes felt. Passmore's long-term objective, triumphantly achieved as matters turned out, centred on extending his new links with the international centres of academic philosophy while continuing to live and work in his agreeably egalitarian and democratic homeland. This was what being a "semi-detached" Australian" meant.

In 1955 Passmore left New Zealand, returning to take up a position at the Institute of Advanced Studies, the research arm of the Australian National University in Canberra. But by the time we reach this point in Passmore's mental odyssey the memoir exasperatingly trails off. Passmore has very little to say about the development of his ideas and his career following his return to Sydney in 1948 after his year in England. The New Zealand years are relegated to a single paragraph while his forty years and more as a philosopher in Canberra is covered off in a single sentence (there is though a photograph featuring Gilbert Ryle in Canberra in 1956). Is it possible that absolutely no incident or event worthy of comment, whether philosophical or personal, occurred in the Institute of Advanced Studies during Passmore's long stint there?

As a result of this reticence we finish the memoir with an incomplete picture of the author's career. It would have been far harder if not impossible for Passmore to have sustained his ideal of being a semi-detached Australian if he had not been allowed to enjoy the peculiar advantages pertaining to tenure at the Institute of Advanced Studies. With no undergraduates to teach and burdened with few administrative chores, he was free to roam the world at regular intervals, maintaining his personal contacts with international philosophers. He also had the time and resources to write a succession of important books.

Passmore's memoirs have been published at a time when the decline of academic culture in Australia seems to be gathering pace, not least of all in the university where he himself worked for the majority of his career as a professional philosopher. The viability of significant areas of the Australian National University is at stake.

The forces of barbarism and ignorance can only be further emboldened if a policy of reticence and unexplained silences is followed. Passmore's failure to document eehat was in fact a long and productive connection with the Institute of Advanced Studies is, as a consequence, all the more perplexing. As an exercise in Australian intellectual history and as work of art, his memoir is strangely incomplete. As a possible contribution, albeit an indirect one, to ensuring higher quality public policy outcomes in the sphere of tertiary education and culture generally in Australia, it is, sadly, a chance gone begging.