Chris Bertram offers an appreciation of Jerry Cohen on Crooked Timber. A taste:
Jerry had and set really high standards in philosophy. In his published
work and in professional contexts, he always presented his arguments
with honesty, rigour, insight and humour. Many of the other people who
have written about him in the last day or so have made this and similar
points. I’d like, though, to pay tribute to another way in which he
approached his work and responsibilities as a scholar. Many of us,
facing competing demands for our time and attention, are tempted to
adjust our efforts in the light of our expected audience. I might fret
and worry about getting things right before a professional audience,
but be more relaxed about the prospect of a group of students or a lay
audience. Jerry, if anything, did things the other way around. Faced
with the opportunity to talk about social justice, equality, capitalism
or socialism to an audience of ordinary people, Jerry would be
absolutely meticulous about explaining himself clearly and engagingly
to them, about getting the ideas across. He knew, I think, that he was
smarter than most professional philosophers and could, in conversation
with them, live by his wits if he had to, but with lay audiences he
left nothing to chance. Years ago, he gave a talk on the TV as part of
a BBC2 or C4 series on capitalism to which I
think Milton Friedman also contributed. My mother, not a socialist, and
definitely not a philosopher, was captivated by the anticapitalist case
that Jerry put. (I’ve forgotten the details, but I seem to remember
that the argument centred around the parable of a “schmoo”, a sort of
living-brick?) He was effective in such contexts because justice
mattered to him, because it really does matter, and not just as as an
exercise in the academy.
work and in professional contexts, he always presented his arguments
with honesty, rigour, insight and humour. Many of the other people who
have written about him in the last day or so have made this and similar
points. I’d like, though, to pay tribute to another way in which he
approached his work and responsibilities as a scholar. Many of us,
facing competing demands for our time and attention, are tempted to
adjust our efforts in the light of our expected audience. I might fret
and worry about getting things right before a professional audience,
but be more relaxed about the prospect of a group of students or a lay
audience. Jerry, if anything, did things the other way around. Faced
with the opportunity to talk about social justice, equality, capitalism
or socialism to an audience of ordinary people, Jerry would be
absolutely meticulous about explaining himself clearly and engagingly
to them, about getting the ideas across. He knew, I think, that he was
smarter than most professional philosophers and could, in conversation
with them, live by his wits if he had to, but with lay audiences he
left nothing to chance. Years ago, he gave a talk on the TV as part of
a BBC2 or C4 series on capitalism to which I
think Milton Friedman also contributed. My mother, not a socialist, and
definitely not a philosopher, was captivated by the anticapitalist case
that Jerry put. (I’ve forgotten the details, but I seem to remember
that the argument centred around the parable of a “schmoo”, a sort of
living-brick?) He was effective in such contexts because justice
mattered to him, because it really does matter, and not just as as an
exercise in the academy.