Jekyll2023-12-08T11:27:29-07:00https://www.landonelkind.com/feed.xmlLandon D. C. ElkindPhilosopher, Logician, Logical AtomistLandon D. C. ElkindAgainst philosophical canons: How I became a canon-shredder2023-07-05T00:00:00-06:002023-07-05T00:00:00-06:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/against-philosophical-canons<p>Recently I <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9781003184294-13/let-rip-landon-elkind">published a piece</a> in Sandra Lapointe and Erich Reck’s wonderful anthology with Routledge, <a href="https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003184294"><em>Historiography and the Formation of Philosophical Canons</em></a>. There I offer a conceptual analysis of philosophical canons according to which they are dogmatic practices. Then I argue that philosophical canons, so understood, undermine the ultimate practical point for which we have them, which point is to faciliate better philosophy. Even taking a very broad range of views of what counts as “better philosophy” the argument shows that philosophical canons are self-undermining because, no matter what authors, texts, and traditions they contain, they undermine the practical point for which they exist.</p>
<p>Now it may be that we cannot get rid of philosophical canons and still have a discipline of philosophy. Maybe disciplines, in order to exist, need a canon around which to coalesce. I don’t discuss this issue in the piece. On the other hand, if philosophical canons have this practically self-undermining feature and we can do without them, then maybe we should. Rather than conserve the philosophical canon or expand it, maybe we should shred any and all philosophical canons. This position, that we should eliminate philosophical canons, is called <em>anti-canonism</em>, or what I like to call being a <em>canon-shredder</em>.</p>
<p>Note that being a canon-shredder does not mean that we should shred any or all “canonical” texts. Plato and Aristotle certainly can be taught, just as Stebbing and Welby can be taught (and I do teach them all in my classes). What we shred or eliminate is not specific texts, but the dogmatic (anti-philosophical) practices which do (and must) constitute philosophical canons.</p>
<p>What does this mean? <em>Dogmas</em> are essentially theses held without the believer feeling any need to offer arguments for them. Now one can believe a dogma and philosophize about it. For example, if I believe Moses got the commandments at Sinai and deny that this view requires any rational grounding (besides revelation or faith that themselves do not require rational grounds), then my belief is a dogma. My belief is held out without inviting any kind of dialectical discussion over it. If I were to philosophize about whether faith experiences could ever give justification, then I would be philosophizing about dogmatic beliefs.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, if rationalization fails, my belief does not and will not waver - hence the dogmatic character of the belief. Some beliefs like dogmas are just never really on the table for being disputed (except as an exercise) or rejected. One can put on a philosopher hat, critically interrogate a religious belief, and remove the hat later. When the hat is on, they are doing philosophy. When it is off, when they again hold the belief without needing reasons for it, their stance is now dogmatic and not philosophical.</p>
<p>Notice also that dogmas occur in many areas of life, not just religion. In most non-philosophical disciplines, including many natural or human sciences, the existence of the external world and other minds is a dogma. It is not the sort of belief that is viewed as needing justification. It is not offered up for dialectical discussion. In the discipline of geology we do not take skeptical scenarios about the external world’s existence as up for rational debate.</p>
<p>In contrast, philosophers are obliged to engage in <em>unrestricted criticism</em>. Any and every belief is in principle up for dialectical discussion. No dogmas are allowed in philosophy. Quoting <a href="https://archive.org/details/problemsofphilo00russuoft/page/232/mode/2up">Russell’s <em>The Problems of Philosophy</em></a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The essential characteristic of philosophy, which makes it a study distinct from science, is <em>criticism</em>. It examines critically the principles employed in science and in daily life ; it searches out any inconsistencies there may be in these principles, and it only accepts them when, as the result of a critical inquiry, no reason for rejecting them has appeared.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Putting this together with the above, canons are constituted by canonizing social practices. These social practices enforce as a (dogmatic) rule that so-and-so philosopher or such-and-such text <em>has</em> to be studied. Much as speeding tickets are enforced dogmatically (the ticketing officer isn’t offering the citation up for debate), so is canonical status. And in my book that practices that make philosophers canonical are anti-philosophical because of their dogmatic (enforcement-like) character.</p>
<p>For the details, you’ll have to read the piece (and buy the book!). But how did I get to this point of thinking we should shred canons (instead of fighting over their makeup - that is, instead of either expanding them or keeping them as they are)? Basically, I kept hearing philosophers arguing that we should expand and diversify the the canon without ever bothering to say what a canon is (a good Socratic question) and what a canon is for (a good Lyndon Johnson-ian question). I got tired of not understanding the full picture about canons and what we should do with them.</p>
<p>This paper is the result of my bigger picture thinking about philosophical canons (and about philosophy itself, as it turns out). I hope that you that the piece or this post inspire you to do some bigger picture thinking about canons - and philoosphy, too!</p>Landon D. C. ElkindRecently I published a piece in Sandra Lapointe and Erich Reck’s wonderful anthology with Routledge, Historiography and the Formation of Philosophical Canons. There I offer a conceptual analysis of philosophical canons according to which they are dogmatic practices. Then I argue that philosophical canons, so understood, undermine the ultimate practical point for which we have them, which point is to faciliate better philosophy. Even taking a very broad range of views of what counts as “better philosophy” the argument shows that philosophical canons are self-undermining because, no matter what authors, texts, and traditions they contain, they undermine the practical point for which they exist.Against Huemer’s ‘Against History’2021-01-07T00:00:00-07:002021-01-07T00:00:00-07:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/against-huemers-against-history<p>In <a href="http://fakenous.net/?p=1168">a recent post at Fake Noûs</a>, Michael Huemer asks why we have history of philosophy as a specific field of academic research. In Section 1, Huemer agrees that reading the works of dead philosophers is important and worthwhile. It is agreed that dead philosophers’ works are usually mined for the sake of creating a formulation of a problem. When this is done by a philosopher of sufficient disciplinary influence, and their work gets enough uptake among other philosophers, this formulation can become canonical and set the agenda for a subset of living philosophers.</p>
<p>What Huemer’s account omits is that this practice is part of the problem that historians of philosophy are trying to fix: the read-it-and-see-what-you-make-of-it way of interpreting a dead author can physically be done, I admit, by a reasonably good philosopher who is not a historian of philosophy. I agree that this sort of reading can result in interesting work. But Huemer already says this person, being a philosopher, is nonetheless probably wrong about almost everything. And a decidedly “ahistorical” philosopher who reads dead authors and then canonizes (to the misfortune of others) what they think was meant is probably also a very bad historian of philosophy.</p>
<p>If that is the standard for a canonical formulation of a contemporary problem, then why on Earth wouldn’t we want some historians to set such misreadings aright? It seems that Huemer’s methodology in history of philosophy naïvely sets us up to continuously get the dead philosopher wrong, then to have some other contemporary lumber along and give another interesting but incorrect misreading that then sets us up for another few years or decades of spilled ink over philosophical confusions that, for all the “ahistorical” philosophers know, were already identified and avoided by the dead philosopher they are reading.</p>
<p>Huemer asks four rhetorical questions:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[1] What are these scholars trying to find out? [2] Are they looking for more writings that have been lost or forgotten? [3] Are they trying to trace the historical roots of particular ideas and how they developed over the ages? [4] Or are they perhaps trying to figure out whether particular theories held by historical figures were true or false?</p>
<p>No, not really. Not any of those things. Scholarship in the history of philosophy is mainly like this: there are certain books that we have had for a long time, by a certain list of canonical major figures in philosophy. You read the books of a particular philosopher. Then you pick a particular passage in one of the books, and you argue with other people about what that passage means. In making your arguments, you cite other things the philosopher said. You also try to claim that your interpretation is “more charitable” than some rival interpretation, because it attributes fewer errors, or less egregious errors, to the great figure.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This pretends a breathtaking unfamiliarity with modern history of philosophy. The answers in fact are: (1) everything, (2) yes (<a href="https://www.cambridge.org/us/academic/subjects/philosophy/twentieth-century-philosophy/significance-new-logic?format=HB&isbn=9781107179028">example</a>), (3) yes (<a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/on-the-genealogy-of-universals-9780198811251?cc=us&lang=en&#">example</a>), and (4) yes (<a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/kantian-review/article/abs/can-kants-formula-of-the-end-in-itself-condemn-capitalism/4C5EA7AF6EB4FE897DD94DE19D19EB16">example</a>).</p>
<p>Frankly, I don’t think there is much difference between the rhetorical-question activities and the ones that occur in Huemer’s actual answer. How does Huemer draw the line between “good” history of philosophy and “bad” history of philosophy? When a contemporary philosopher reads a dead one, and then summarizes what they say, at what point does this person start doing “bad” history of philosophy? Is it when they cite more than three books? Is it when they consult different translations? Is it when they visit an archive? When should the philosopher stop trying to figure out what they dead one meant and just report their impression of what was meant? Though there may be a difference of degree here, there is no real difference in kind between the activity being done in “good” history of philosophy, of which Huemer approves, and “bad” history of philosophy, of which Huemer disapproves.</p>
<p>In Section 2, Huemer suggests that the most we can achieve in history of philosophy is to understand what philosopher meant. But because this in itself gives us no evidence for the truth or falsity of what the philosopher claimed, Huemer says, “This is of no philosophical import.” But nobody would deny that we need to know what a claim means in order to determine whether our present evidence justifies a claim. The former cannot be done without the latter, particularly because most people read older works in translation. The evaluation of editing and translation is also part of history of philosophy. Is the alternative to just read Plato without critically considering the text itself? This cannot be done because what Plato said is not manifest.</p>
<p>This suggests that Huemer is mistaken in Section 3 in claiming that philosophers can just pick up a text and explain it well enough. The text is an object of scholarly scrutiny. The text is not given to us: it takes time and energy to understand. And here, Huemer’s argument cuts both ways: we could equally have just historians of philosophy because they could explain contemporary philosophers “well enough for undergraduates.” I could see a university provost making the same argument for replacing all philosophers with shared duties among faculty in other departments. Such a provost would be just as wrong as Huemer is here.</p>
<p>In Section 4, Huemer suggests that studying a dead philosopher too much can skew your modern perspective. Moreover, dead philosophers like Aristotle don’t have the benefits of “access to <em>the accumulated human knowledge of the last 2,000 years</em>.” But I don’t see that the modern perspective is not itself skewed in much the same way, as would probably be attested to by folks in future years if they were asked about our perspective. Appealing to <a href="https://handlingideas.blog/2019/12/28/how-philosophy-does-not-make-progress-a-note-on-scott-soames-new-book/">what Martin Lenz has called “unquestioned teleological bullshit”</a> about the march of progress is not particularly persuasive. And Huemer’s position that most philosophers are mostly wrong about most things makes it particularly difficult to defend the claim that living philosophers’ views are so superior to those of dead philosophers that we can or should discard history of philosophy.</p>Landon D. C. ElkindIn a recent post at Fake Noûs, Michael Huemer asks why we have history of philosophy as a specific field of academic research. In Section 1, Huemer agrees that reading the works of dead philosophers is important and worthwhile. It is agreed that dead philosophers’ works are usually mined for the sake of creating a formulation of a problem. When this is done by a philosopher of sufficient disciplinary influence, and their work gets enough uptake among other philosophers, this formulation can become canonical and set the agenda for a subset of living philosophers.Literature on the Empty Domain2019-03-19T00:00:00-06:002019-03-19T00:00:00-06:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/Literature-on-the-Empty-Domain<p>The state of play in the empty domain, pun-intended, seems to be this: nobody has really gotten a generally satisfactory proof theory and semantics for (<a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/logic-free/">non-free</a>) <em>inclusive logic</em>—logic inclusive of the empty domain. I think that getting a satisfactory semantics for it stands to benefit discussions of <em>metaphysical nihilism</em>—the view that, possibly, there are no concrete entities—a priori justification for contingent claims, and of proof-theoretic and model-theoretic semantics for logic.</p>
<p>So in a kind of literature survey, I want to lay out the currently-available approaches to inclusive logic. The terminology ‘inclusive logic’ comes from Quine’s 1954. My treatment here largely follows the quasi-literature survey in (<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/1467-8284.00140">Williamson, 1999</a>). Since it has been twenty years (now twenty-four!), I thought that the state of play was worth reviewing again in an accessible, public-domain format.</p>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2266682">Mostowski’s 1951 Trick</a>: Interpret the value of every formula containing free variables as the empty set, and the value of all formulas without free variables as either true or false. In this case, all universally-closed formulas are true, and all existentially-closed formulas are false.
<ul>
<li>Motivation: Universally-closed formulas should come out vacuously true, whereas existentially-closed formulas should come out false.
<ul>
<li>We might also think that formulas containing free variables should come out true, since the meaning of these is seemingly odd if the empty domain is allowed. In such cases, we have a kind of vacuous quantification—quantification where the bound variable does not occur in the formula occurring within the scope of the quantifier, as in (∀x)(Fb). As vacuous quantifiers are redundant, they should not weigh on whether the formula is true or not. As such, these formulas should be counted as false in the empty domain, just as Fb is.</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>Problem: The rule of <em>modus ponens</em> is not truth-preserving in the empty domain (as Mostowski himself pointed out). The formulas (φ∨¬φ) and (φ∨¬φ)→(∃x)(φ∨¬φ) come out true, but (∃x)(φ∨¬φ) does not. We only get <em>modus ponens</em> in a restricted form (it is truth-preserving whenever φ and ψ share all the free variables—then we do have that φ and φ→ψ imply ψ).</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li><a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2268615">Quine’s 1954 Trick</a>: Mark every formula with an intial universal quantifier (∀x)(φ) as true, and mark every formula with an initial existential quantifier (∃x)(φ) as false. Apply truth-functional considerations elsewhere.
<ul>
<li>Motivation: for this is that universally-closed formulas should come out vacuously true, whereas existentially-closed formulas should come out false.
<ul>
<li>Also, we want to preserve extensionality: vacuous quantifiers (∀x)(Fb) are justified by the equivalence (∀x)(Fb)↔(∀x)(Fb∧(Fx→Fx)). And this sytem preserves extensionality (in that it preserves the vacuity of vacuous quantifiers).</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>Problem: Universally-closed contradictions (∀x)(φ∧¬φ) come out true and existentially-closed tautologies (∃x)(φ∨¬φ) come out false. But it seems that a closed tautology should be true, and a closed contradiction should be false.</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li><a href="https://eudml.org/doc/114803">Schneider’s 1958 Trick</a>: First, we define satisfaction under <em>limited interpretations</em>—interpretations of free predicate and individual variables in a given formula φ only. Second we consider <em>unlimited interpretations</em>—interpretations of all predicate and individual variables in the language, not just those occurring in a given formula.
<ul>
<li>Explanation of Limited Interpretations: In limited interpretations over the empty domain, any <em>open</em> formula comes out true because there are no assignments of their free variables to anything—there are no functions from variables to elements of the domain. As such, all open formulas are vacuously satisfied. Limited interpretations of closed formulas, in contrast, still operate in the truth-functional way, as do ones of universally-closed formulas (which are true) and of existentially-closed formulas (which are false).</li>
<li>Motivation for Limited Interpretations: In limited-interpretation satisfaction in the empty domain, we have satisfaction in the empty domain roughly as on Quine’s trick. Open formulas are all valid, and we can treat quantifiers truth-functionally as on Quine’s trick.</li>
<li>Problem for Limited Interpretations: The odd formulas that should not be true, like universally-closed contradictions (∀x)(φ∧¬φ), come out true, while the odd formulas that should not be false, like existentially-closed tautologies (∃x)(φ∨¬φ), come out false.</li>
<li>Explanation of Unlimited Interpretations: In unlimited interpretations, we interpret <em>all</em> predicate and individual variables. But in the empty domain, there is no assignment for such formulas. As such, any formula is vacuously true in the empty domain under an unlimited interpretation.</li>
<li>Motivation for Unlimited Interpretations: Since logical truth is usually characterized as true in every non-empty domain, including the empty domain does not change what counts as logically true: for every formula that is true in all non-empty domains is also true in the empty domain under unlimited interpretations. So we get as universally valid, in all domains including empty ones, all formulas that are valid in non-empty domains. In this approach to empty-domain logic, we keep as logical truths formulas like (∃x)(φ∨¬φ) and (∀x)(Fx)→(∃x)(Fx), while rejecting as false formulas like (∀x)(φ∧¬φ).</li>
<li>Problem for Unlimited Interpretations: Under unlimited interpretations, formulas like φ∧¬φ and (∃x)(Fx) come out true in the empty domain (though not as true in all domains). But the first example seems like it should come out false in every domain, and the second seemingly should come out false in the empty domain (on the intended meaning of “(∃x)(Fx)”). So we preserve what we might want from non-empty domain logic, but at the cost of undermining practically any intended interpretation of truth in the empty domain (besides the deeply implausible one on which everything is true because everything is vacuous).</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<p>These are the approaches that do not rely on inner-domain and outer-domain semantics that are typical in free logic (and in semantics for quantified modal logic). These are also the alternatives that preserve compositionality—the truth-conditions of complex formulas is given recursively through the truth-conditions of their constituent formulas (so that we do not get, for instance, that φ∨¬φ is true while φ and ¬φ are both false).</p>
<p>I believe that covers the available approaches. I am, of course, fallible. So if you know of others that should be added to the list, let me know!</p>Landon D. C. ElkindThe state of play in the empty domain, pun-intended, seems to be this: nobody has really gotten a generally satisfactory proof theory and semantics for (non-free) inclusive logic—logic inclusive of the empty domain. I think that getting a satisfactory semantics for it stands to benefit discussions of metaphysical nihilism—the view that, possibly, there are no concrete entities—a priori justification for contingent claims, and of proof-theoretic and model-theoretic semantics for logic.Why should we care about believing what is true? Using Trivialism to Answer2018-01-12T00:00:00-07:002018-01-12T00:00:00-07:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/why-should-we-care-about-believing-what-is-true<p>I was recently asked how I motivate caring about what we believe (to students, but this applies to plenty of non-students). Likely most philosophers are already sold on believing what is true and holding consistent beliefs. And if someone already cares about being right, about being consistent, and about believing truly, your work is done as soon as you explain it what the issue is. But not everyone cares about believing truly and holding consistent beliefs. How do we sell them on it?</p>
<p>In my practice, I first state their position, ‘Alright, what if you don’t really care about believing truly and consistently? What if you just want to get through life and leave well enough alone? Who cares about a false belief here, or an inconsistency there? Does that really make much difference in the end? Nobody on their deathbed will mutter, “No regrets…oh, except that one inconsistent belief set from 1985. Drat!” Isn’t that right?’</p>
<p>This brings out what we are trying to counter: it is really an <em>attitude</em> about beliefs, namely, ‘I don’t care.’ Once folks propose norms for belief, they have tacitly admitted to caring about norms for belief. So what we need is a view that flies in the face of the ‘I don’t care’ norm.</p>
<p>In countering this attitude, I have used trivialism to motivate caring about believing truly and believing consistently, and so caring about norms of belief. <em>Trivialism</em> is the view that all well-formed statements are true. (See P. D. Kabay’s 2008 dissertation on trivialism.) I find it a quite useful toy example of, and a foil for, how the “I don’t care” attitude can go horribly wrong. To be fair, trivialism can be motivated by rational arguments. But the ‘believe everything’ consequence - trivialism as an end result - is what we care about in connecting it with the ‘I don’t care’ attitude.</p>
<p>So after defining trivialism, I say this: ‘Alright, if you really do not care about believing truths and believing consistently, then you practically may believe anything. So being a trivialist is alright, too.’ Most folks reject that someone may believe everything. And now you are in business: they have admitted to caring a little bit about what may be believed.</p>
<p>Then you can motivate all sorts of other norms for belief once the ‘I don’t care attitude’ has been connected with a consequence that most folks reject, namely, trivialism. The instant that someone has objected to believing <em>everything</em>, they have adopted a norm for belief that makes it wrong to believe anything. That is, the ‘I don’t care’ attitude lets you believe anything, including, as a trivialist does, everything.</p>
<p><em>This post was copied from my old website in 2022.</em></p>Landon D. C. ElkindI was recently asked how I motivate caring about what we believe (to students, but this applies to plenty of non-students). Likely most philosophers are already sold on believing what is true and holding consistent beliefs. And if someone already cares about being right, about being consistent, and about believing truly, your work is done as soon as you explain it what the issue is. But not everyone cares about believing truly and holding consistent beliefs. How do we sell them on it?Digging in a Library Basement (Pt. 1)2017-12-18T00:00:00-07:002017-12-18T00:00:00-07:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/digging-in-a-library-basement<p>In summer 2017, I was awarded a <a href="https://grad.uiowa.edu/funding/fellowships/cleary">T. Anne Cleary International Dissertation Research Fellowship</a> to travel to the Bertrand Russell Archives at McMaster University. My dissertation focuses on Russell’s philosophy of logical atomism. So visiting the Archive was a real treat, and truly helpful in getting a more complete picture of Russell’s logical atomism. I am grateful to the University of Iowa Graduate College for their generous support of my first archival adventure! In this series of three posts, I will give an overview of my trip, talk about what it was like to work in the Russell Archives, and then discuss the historical data I found that aided my research.</p>
<p>First, I had a delightful time on my first car trip to Canada! I unfortunately did discover much too late that, when driving across a border with enough suitcases full of books crammed into a 2007 Honda Accord to start a new life, you should bring documentation that shows why you are traveling there: Canadian border security was suspicious of me, a young summer traveler bringing what looked like all their Earthly possessions. It took a good bit of midnight dialogue to persuade them to let me pass. That was <em>lesson one: bring documentation evidencing that someone in the country you are visiting expects you to visit</em>.</p>
<p>I followed most of the other lessons pretty well. I contacted the Archival staff at the Mills Library, where the Bertrand Russell Archives are housed, and I did this well in advance. (In an exciting development, the Russell Archives <a href="https://dailynews.mcmaster.ca/articles/construction-underway-on-new-home-for-renowned-bertrand-russell-archive/">will have their own dedicated Russell House in spring 2018</a>!) Similarly, I contacted the Russell Archivist, Kenneth Blackwell, who met Russell and was responsible for their documentation and growth since their arrival at McMaster University. (This interesting chapter in the history of the history of analytic philosophy is detailed here.) I also got in touch with some well-known historians of analytic philosophy in McMaster’s philosophy department: Nick Griffin and Sandra Lapointe. My interactions with all these folks were superbly helpful. The Archival staff in the William Ready Division was also terrific - more on that next time!</p>
<p>I also followed a tip from some academics in history that helpfully blogged about their archival research experiences. That was <em>lesson two: bring a nice camera and a hands-free stand for taking photographs</em>. I spent $200 on the Nikon Coolpix L840. (Of course an academic would buy their first camera for doing archival work!) I also dropped $40 on a 32GB memory card, rechargeable batteries, a battery charger, a case, and - most importantly of all - a tripod for the camera.</p>
<p>Why did I do all this? That was <em>lesson three: make the most of your time in the archive</em>. The Russell Archives were open Monday through Friday from 9 to 5. I only had a few weeks there, and I wanted to spend as much time as I practically could documenting materials that I could not access from home. So I spent almost all the time I could in the Archive taking as many photographs as I could. I would only organize photographs on my computer when I got home for the evening. (And <em>lesson four: organizing photos is a must</em>! Otherwise you might be unable to know what on Earth you are looking at when you return home. For my part, I followed the documentation system of the Russell Archives and organized photos by box number, item number, and document title.)</p>
<p>So I had two sets of four rechargeable batteries: as my camera needed four batteries at a time, that let me charge one set while I was using the other, so I could photograph without interruption almost the entire time the Russell Archives were open. I also chose my camera because it had WiFi networking capacities. That let me download a free Android application that I used to take photos by pressing a button on my cell phone while seated. If you are taking photos by holding your arms above your head while seated, or by standing, that gets uncomfortable fast. It also distracts your hands from arranging primary documents by making them fiddle with or hold a camera. My archiving arrangement let me take photographs while comfortably seated and freed my hands to focus on laying the documents before the camera. (See the picture.) The arrangement was highly successful: it resulted in around 7,400 photos over three weeks, which amounts to about 500 photos daily over fifteen working days.</p>
<p>That is enough for now. In Part 2, I will talk more about what it was like to work in there and about the wonderful folks I met.</p>
<p><em>This post was copied from my old website.</em></p>Landon D. C. ElkindIn summer 2017, I was awarded a T. Anne Cleary International Dissertation Research Fellowship to travel to the Bertrand Russell Archives at McMaster University. My dissertation focuses on Russell’s philosophy of logical atomism. So visiting the Archive was a real treat, and truly helpful in getting a more complete picture of Russell’s logical atomism. I am grateful to the University of Iowa Graduate College for their generous support of my first archival adventure! In this series of three posts, I will give an overview of my trip, talk about what it was like to work in the Russell Archives, and then discuss the historical data I found that aided my research.Blog Post number 32014-08-14T00:00:00-06:002014-08-14T00:00:00-06:00https://www.landonelkind.com/posts/2014/08/blog-post-3<p>This is a sample blog post. Lorem ipsum I can’t remember the rest of lorem ipsum and don’t have an internet connection right now. Testing testing testing this blog post. Blog posts are cool.</p>
<h1 id="headings-are-cool">Headings are cool</h1>
<h1 id="you-can-have-many-headings">You can have many headings</h1>
<h2 id="arent-headings-cool">Aren’t headings cool?</h2>Landon D. C. ElkindThis is a sample blog post. Lorem ipsum I can’t remember the rest of lorem ipsum and don’t have an internet connection right now. Testing testing testing this blog post. Blog posts are cool.