The Galileo Affair, Part 3: Intellectual contexts
As we shall see, the Assayer was not just a polemic, in spite of the declarations to that effect on the part of several writers on Galileo (cf. de Santillana, 1958; Geymonat, op cit). Commenting on the fact that the myriad areas touched upon and arguments used have confused some scholars, Biagioli became befuddled himself when he referred to so-called Feyerabendian opportunism as an explanation for Galileo's employment of "ad hoc hypotheses, internal contradictions, and unjustified attacks" (1993: 268). Preferring to see Galileo's response within the context of patronage and as an attempt to reinforce his belief that he, and not Brah , was the pre-eminent post-Copernican astronomer, Biagioli failed to consider the possibility that Galileo was employing a reductio, a far more accurate "Feyerabendian" reading of the problematic existence of inconsistencies (cf. Farrell, 2003: 12-17 and further). This is part of a general trend among Galileo scholars that praises him for his genius as a rhetorician at one moment and ignores the most potent tool in any polemic the next in seeking to explain why the text does not form a cogent whole. Drake, at least, had noticed this (1999, 1: 30).
Before moving on to consider the other aspects of the Assayer, it is illuminating to compare Galileo's situation at this time—and hence—with that of John Wilkins in England. A vociferous defender of Copernicanism, he faced little opposition and was able to publish his Discovery of a world in the moon (1638) and Discourse concerning a new planet (1640) with ease. Although his career as an academic was put at risk by his alleged sympathies with the Royalist cause, his "survival as warden of Wadham [the Oxford College], his move to the mastership of Trinity College Cambridge in 1659, his becoming bishop of Chester in 1668, and his appointment as Lent preacher to the king suggest that there was nothing particularly hazardous in being England's most conspicuous Copernican" (Brooke, 1991: 107-108). To explain the Galileo affair simplistically as an instance of the supposed conflict between science and religion, then, is to invite the question as to why the reaction to Copernicanism differed between countries that were all religious (cf. Russell, 1991: 83-88).
Galileo's work and the criticism it faced were not just rhetoric, politics and patronage. In this second section we shall look at Galileo's science and its development, along with the philosophical aspects to the affair. In particular, we shall look again at the objections raised against his ideas.
Galileo and Science
Many pages have been authored on the subject of Galileo's scientific personality, a significant proportion of them concerned with "de-mythologising" Galileo and the view within the history of science that science proceeded (and proceeds) according to leaps of genius by greats like Galileo, Newton or Einstein. Some historians, however, have gone so far as to attribute to Galileo the character of a Copernican zealot who went far beyond reasonable scientific behaviour in seeking to convince others to accept conclusions for which there were insufficient grounds (for example, Koestler, 1959; Feyerabend, 1993; Shea and Artigas, 2003). This is the second myth we began with.
As we have noted above, Galileo regularly declined to publish his ideas when he felt they needed more work, whether his theories on motion or Copernicanism. He had preferred the second since the late 1590s but, lacking the telescopic observations that would show the Ptolemaic system to be false, he did not publicly support it until 1610. During his student days Galileo had rejected Copernicanism, setting out his reasons for so doing (Wallace, 1977: 71-74). Later, in a letter of 1597 to Kepler, he had written that
Johannes Kepler, Galileo’s correspondent and fellow astronomer
Much has been made of Galileo's writing in Italian, rather than the Latin then employed by most philosophers, theologians and the like. According to Feyerabend (1993), this was a rhetorical strategy on the part of Galileo, helping him to bypass the theologians and scholastics and appeal directly to the public; but it is hard to see how common opinion could have aided a zealous Copernican, even one of Galileo's stature, in swaying the decisions of the authoritarian Church. A far simpler explanation was given by Galileo himself in a letter of 1612:
Aside from attaching importance to mathematics as an instrumental language, Galileo also made a distinction between primary and secondary qualities (although he was not the first to do so) that would be taken up by Locke years later and which hinted at the mechanistic philosophy that would prove so important in the development of science (cf. Dijksterhuis, op cit: 333-359). When, in 1626, Grassi finally replied to the Assayer with his Ratio ponderum Librae et Simbellae, he took exception to the former, and specifically a passage in which Galileo had suggested that natural philosophy should be the study of "figures, numbers and local motion" (Fantoli, 1996: 293), not mere "names":
With Maffeo Barberini having ascended to the Papacy, Galileo again journeyed to Rome to pay his respects and to attempt to divine the attitude of the new Pope to his ideas and goals (XIII, 135). He arrived on the 23rd of April, 1624, and was granted no less than six audiences. He also met with Cardinals Antonio and Francesco Barberini, the brother and nephew of Urban VIII respectively (XIII, 175). On his departure in June, the Pontiff presented Galileo with a painting, a gold and a silver medal and several Agnus Dei. He was no closer to attaining his aim, however, and conceded that his discussions with Urban VIII had taught him that a prudent approach would be best (XIII, 179).
It is interesting to note the attitude that the Pope displayed toward the Copernican issue, considering more fully the instrumentalist thinking alluded to above. In an undated record of a conversation between Galileo and Urban VIII, the latter's Papal theologian, Agostino Oregio, explained that, having allowed all the arguments that Galileo had brought to bear on the question, the Pope
Tommaso Campanella, a Dominican and one of Galileo’s supporters
Nevertheless, Galileo returned to Florence feeling that he could broach the issue of Copernicanism so long as he did so only in a hypothetical way. He decided to pursue a gradual course of action and devoted himself firstly to a paper that had been published back in 1616 by Francesco Ingoli, now secretary of the Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith. This pamphlet had disputed the Copernican system but, owing to the timing of events, Galileo had not felt that he could offer any rejoinder at that time. Kepler had already tackled Ingoli in 1618 and received a reply in turn. Galileo had been told by Tommaso Campanella (a Dominican who was imprisoned in Naples by the Inquisition for many years, largely for his political opinions, before his release by Urban VIII in 1629) in 1616 that he would author a criticism of Ingoli on his behalf (XII, 287), which Galileo declined—hardly the behaviour of a Copernican zealot but very much in keeping with a more accurate conception of Galileo as cautious and considered.
In his Letter to Ingoli, Galileo disavowed any theological argument and instead focused purely on the scientific areas of Ingoli's Disputio. Showing that the Copernican system was more in accordance with observation and reason, he explained that as a good Catholic he did not deny Copernicanism out of ignorance but instead because of the "reverence we have toward the writings of our Fathers" (VI, 511); that is, that Catholics were well aware of the support for Copernicus but, having understood it, placed their faith higher in import than interpreting astronomical theories as true representations. In part, this was in response to the suggestion in Protestant countries that the Church had banned all discussion of Copernicanism. This was referred to by Cardinal Zollern, Bishop of Osnabruck, who had reported to the Pope that "all heretics accept [Copernicus'] opinion and hold it as most certain" (XIII, 182). Attempts to convert Protestants in the German states were thus failing, he said, because of the perception there of the decree of 1616. Urban VIII had replied, according to Zollern, by saying that
Galileo's Letter took a long time to be published because the Church was investigating a complaint to the Holy Office concerning the Assayer. His friend Guidicci explained that a "pious person had proposed to prohibit or correct" the work (XIII, 265). According to a document discovered by Redondi in the archives of the Holy Office, the grievance also spoke of the atomism allegedly found in the Assayer as heretical (cf. Redondi, 1987: 137-202 for a discussion of this document and its anonymous author, together with 203-226 for more on the dispute on the Eucharist). The author objected that "if this philosophy of qualities is admitted to be true, it seems to me there follows a great difficulty in regard to the existence of the qualities of bread and wine which in the Holy Sacrament are separated from their own substance..." (in Finocchiaro, 1989: 203). Galileo's friends in Rome were understandably concerned.
Meanwhile Galileo returned to an idea that he first had when he moved to Padua (see Fantoli, op cit: 68), probably because it was more noticeable there: the phenomenon of the tides and their use as a possible argument against the fixed Earth. He wrote about it in several letters to friends in 1624 and still more in 1625 (XIII, 209 and 236, for example). This was to be the Discourse on the ebb and flow of the sea, in which he would consider the "two chief world systems" and the arguments for and against them, along with his thoughts on the tides and what they implied for the motion of the Earth. Although originally intending to finish the book swiftly (XIII, 295 suggests as much), family issues and health problems held him back. More importantly, it seems, the sheer scope of what he was attempting to achieve forced him to delay the writing as he sought more data and had to reconsider the direction he was taking in the light of objections (cf. XIV, 60).
After much work, Scheiner's response to Galileo was published in 1630 as Rosa Ursina, originally De Maculis Solis (or On Sunspots), Book One of which was largely a polemic against Galileo that took issue with his claims of plagiarism and reasserted Scheiner's priority (and independence) in the discovery of sunspots. Galileo's supporters replied in kind, but the far greater remainder of Scheiner's work was in fact a detailed critique of the incorruptibility of the heavens and other Aristotelian assumptions, coupled with "the most valuable treatise on solar physics of that epoch" (Fantoli, op cit: 332). Warned by Ciampoli via Castelli not to offer any comment (XIV, 330), perhaps to avoid any further deterioration in relations with the Jesuits, Galileo remained silent and continued with his own writing.
Late in 1629, Galileo was finally nearing the end of his work on the tides, completing it in April of the next year and writing to his French correspondent Elia Diodati that
The Publication of the Dialogue
It was agreed late in 1629 that the Dialogue would be published in Rome, so Galileo again prepared to travel there to aid with the arrangements. Ill health intervened as usual, however, and it was May, 1630 before he arrived. He lodged with Francesco Niccolini, the Tuscan Ambassador since 1621, and his wife Caterina Riccardi (who was related to Niccol Riccardi, the Domincan who had cleared the Assayer for publication and written so highly of it). Galileo was again received by the Pope, the positive result of their discussions (XIV,105) apparently leaving him feeling he was free to publish his work.
At the same time, Galileo's enemies were just as busy, attributing to him a horoscope that foretold the death of Urban VIII and his nephew. The Pontiff, who was deeply superstitious, imprisoned the actual author, Orazio Morandi (who subsequently died in prison) and let it be known that Galileo "had no better friend than [Cardinal Francesco Barberini] and the Pope himself, and that he knew who he was and he knew that he did not have these kinds of matters in his head" (XIV, 111). Nevertheless, Urban VIII was under increasing political pressure as a result of the Thirty Years War and the strength of Cardinal Richelieu within France, such that Riccardi knew the publication of the Dialogue would have to be a delicate process.
Having realised that the Dialogue would be read as sympathetic to Copernicanism, the first thing Riccardi did was to insist that a preface and conclusion should be added, emphasising the hypothetical nature of the study and hence showing "that the Holy Congregation in reproving Copernicus had acted in an entirely reasonable way" (XIX, 325). He then passed the manuscript to Raffaele Visconti, Master of the Sacred Palace and also a professor of mathematics, who approved it. Riccardi was still not happy, though, possibly because he learned that Urban VIII had stated his annoyance at Galileo's claim that the tides depended on the motion of the Earth (XIV, 113—we can refer back to the Pontiff's instrumentalism to understand why). Riccardi decided to review it himself and discussed it with the Pope, who insisted that the title show no reference to the ebb and flow of the sea but instead should speak of the "Chief World Systems", or something similar. Satisfied that the imprimatur would be granted, Galileo returned to Florence after yet another visit to Urban VIII.
It had been agreed that the Dialogue would, as usual, be printed by the Accademia dei Lincei, but on the 1st of August 1630 Prince Cesi died, leaving neither will nor successor at the Academy. Following this deeply saddening event for Galileo, Castelli suggested that he perhaps look to publish in Florence instead (XIV, 135). When Riccardi was asked if he would agree to this arrangement, he declared that he would need a copy first in order to correct it, after which Galileo could publish it wherever he liked (XIV, 150). The plague then raging throughout Italy prevented both travel and post, however, so Galileo requested to be able to amend the work in Florence while leaving only the preface and conclusion to be eventually forwarded to Riccardi in Rome for his consideration. After a diplomatic battle, in which Ambassador Niccolini's wife leant heavily on her relative, Riccardi agreed, with the caveat that the final draft be reviewed locally. This task was entrusted, at Galileo's application, to Father Jacinto Stefani, a Dominican.
Riccardi received the preface and conclusion in accordance with this agreement but still stalled, causing Galileo to finally lose patience and refer the matter to the Tuscan Secretary of State (XIV, 217), who brought it to the attention of the Grand Duke. The latter instructed his Ambassador, Niccolini, to move on his behalf, but Riccardi again refused to be rushed. Still more pressure from the Ambassador and his wife resulted in Riccardi proposing much the same compromise as before, except that this time he would send instructions (XIX, 327) to the Florentine Inquisitor, Clemente Egidi, having checked the opening and closing sections himself. Galileo remained deeply frustrated at this performance (XIV, 254) but eventually sent the required passages to Riccardi. Ultimately, Riccardi absolved himself of all responsibility by devolving the decision of whether or not to grant the imprimatur to Egidi. This final permission having at last been gained, printing began and early in 1632 the first copies were ready for sale.
There is no question that Galileo had every right to be annoyed at Riccardi's behaviour, particularly the unprecedented decision to insist on a second revision. Even so, Riccardi—like Niccolini—was aware of the political climate in Rome and how sensitive the publication was likely to be, Niccolini remarking that "the truth is that these opinions are not received well here, especially by superiors" (XIV, 251).
The full title of the work, as insisted upon by Urban VIII, was
In his preface, Galileo began by stating that he would show that the decree of 1616 had not had the effect supposed by others (that is, Protestants) and thus proposed "to show to foreign nations that as much is understood of this matter in Italy, and particularly in Rome, as transalpine diligence can ever have imagined" (VII, 29). He went on to say that it would be demonstrated that "all experiments practicable upon the earth are insufficient measures for proving its mobility, since they are indifferently adaptable to a earth in motion or at rest", followed by an examination of "celestial phenomena... strengthening the Copernican hypothesis until it might seem that this must triumph absolutely" and then a look at the tides "from assuming the motion of the earth". All this was ostensibly to illustrate the rationality of the Catholic position as having come about "not from failing to take count of what others have thought" but "for those reasons that are supplied by piety, religion, the knowledge of Divine Omnipotence, and a consciousness of the limitations of the human mind" (ibid, 30); that is, the position of Urban VIII. As we shall see, some of his more important readers were unfortunately not convinced of his sincerity in holding it.
The Arguments Against Galileo (2)
Political issues aside, there remained an excellent and straightforward reason why Galileo had struggled to convince people that the Earth moves: it plainly does no such thing. At that time, common sense gave the lie to Copernicanism in ways that anyone could understand: if the Earth moves, why do birds flying not get left behind? If an arrow is fired straight up into the air, with the Earth spinning at countless miles per hour, why does it fall at (or near) the feet of the firer? Likewise, why does a stone dropped from a tower land at the base, instead of some distance away? This last is the famous tower argument that was considered a total refutation of the motion of the Earth and which Galileo later treated of in the eighth part of the Second Day in his Dialogue, along with its equivalents that involved either dropping a lead ball from the masts of stationary and moving ship and comparing the different landing positions or firing cannons East and West and doing similarly.
In keeping with these common sense objections, a more philosophical counter-argument suggested that reasoning in support of Copernicanism committed the logical fallacy of affirming the consequent. Consider, for example, Galileo's intention to look at the tides on the assumption that the Earth moves. In the course of his discussion, critics said, he proceeded in this fashion:
The Copernican Planetary System
- First Premise: If the Earth moves, we would observe phenomenon x (the tides, say);
- Second Premise: We observe phenomenon x;
- Conclusion: Therefore, the Earth moves.
It was also said that Copernicanism was simpler as a mathematical construct and ought to be preferred on that basis alone. This, of course, is in keeping with the general preference for parsimony or simplicity in theories that has characterised much (but not all) science for very many years (cf. Holton, 1988). Since Copernicus could explain on the basis of geokineticism what the Ptolemaic system could only manage with the addition of a complicated structure of eccentrics, epicycles, deferents and equants, his ideas must be closer to the true picture (if indeed they were to be read realistically) or easy to use. However, Copernicus actually introduced epicycles of his own, and even epicycles on top of these, leading Cohen to exclaim that the notion of Copernicus's system being the simpler should be taken "cum grano salis, in fact, with the whole cellar" (2001: 111). This, in any case, is a modern argument, one that Galileo did not face. In his time, the question of which system was simpler does not appear to have been asked (Cohen, op cit: 116).
Galileo's use of the telescope has caused much discussion, too. As we noted above, many people refused to look through the telescope or, having done so, refused to believe what they saw. Although we may regard the former position as ridiculous, the latter was rather more justified. The telescope was a new invention and to some it must have seemed like magic. How, Clavius asked, could it be known that what was seen was actually there, rather than a trick of the lenses? As Feyerabend (op cit) and Kuhn (1975: 224) have remarked, Galileo had no theory of optics to answer this criticism, so he relied instead on demonstrations. By pointing his telescope at something terrestrial in the distance, observers could verify for themselves that it had shown a true representation of what was there. There was no guarantee, however, that this should hold when the telescope was raised to the heavens. The situation changed somewhat when the Jesuits announced that they had confirmed Galileo's studies with the telescope, but this, too, was merely a useful (albeit powerful) aid and not a proof. The effect of Galileo's public shows was nevertheless such that this objection remains a recent (and philosophical) one, particularly in the reductio form employed by Feyerabend.
Another relatively recent argument frequently used to justify the second of the myths we began with concerns the tides. It is said that Galileo was wrong about what caused them (as we saw above, he eventually agreed that the moon was responsible, although, as we shall see, this is not quite accurate) and his use of them to prove Copernicanism was flawed. That the error lies in the other direction will become apparent shortly but since, in his Dialogue, the first thing Galileo had to do was tackle the appeal to common sense, that is where we shall begin.
Philosophy of Science and the Galileo Affair
On the second day of discussion, Galileo has Salviati remark on another author (Chiaramonti) who had suggested that those who would disagree with the tower argument must see a stone dropped from the top falling not straight down but in an arc:
When we read on, we find that Galileo did not in fact propose to supplant one principle with another, instead calling for the use of the senses "accompanied by reasoning" (op cit: 255, italics added). In general, philosophers and historians of science have seemed determined to characterise Galileo's science in one way or another while at the same time contriving to overlook the subtlety in his works. Still on the second day, Galileo sketched the scene of two friends in a ship's cabin, throwing a ball to each other and taking note of the movements of fish, butterflies and the like that happen to be with them. On the first occasion this situation plays out while the ship is at rest alongside; on the second, it is underway. The friends in the former notice no difference in the force needed to throw the ball in one direction rather than another and observe no similar difficulty in the animal sharing the cabin with them. This remains the case, according to Galileo, for the latter, too.
This is the introduction of Galilean relativity, which was relied on much later by Einstein. From the perspective of the friends in the cabin, the motion of the ship relative to land has no effect on the motion of the ball relative to the cabin, since the additional motion imparted to the ball by the motion of the ship is also granted to the cabin. This implied that the stone dropped from the mast of a moving ship appears to fall straight down because its motion in any other direction is shared by the ship—or the inertial frame in modern parlance—so that the observer sees only a straight descent. Likewise, the stone dropped from a tower on a moving Earth is not viewed from an absolute point of reference but relative to the tower and its immediate surroundings, which are (according to the assumption of geokineticism) also moving.
The importance of relativity can scarcely be overstated, but what Galileo was able to do was take an observation that refuted geokineticism, re-describe it, and so turn it into a confirmation of the Earth's movement. This is an example of meaning variance between theories, a concept that would later form the basis of the notion of incommensurability. It shows Galileo not to be rejecting observation on the basis of theory, or vice versa, but using reasoning to invite his readers to consider the evidence of their senses in a new way in support of a different worldview. Any effort to cast him solely as an empiricist or a rationalist, then, is bound to fail.
Another fascinating approach to the motion of the Earth that was discussed by Copernicus and which involved the Aristotelian theory of place, which Aristotle himself had defined as "what contains that of which it is the place" (Physics, IV, 211a). Although Finocchiaro (1997:14) remarked that natural motion "has always been regarded as an essential or defining characteristic of a physical body. This seems to have remained unchanged even by the Copernican Revolution", he failed to realise the importance this held for Copernicus. In the Aristotelian system, the outermost sphere of the heavens was supposed to have a natural motion but it could have no place, since, being uncontained in any further sphere, no place could be granted to it under Aristotle's conception above. Thus Aristotle was left with the unfortunate situation in which the outer sphere had natural motion but no place; and since it had no place it could have no motion, which was defined as a change in place. Max Jammer explained that one consequence was that
Copernicus’ De Revolutionibus Orbium Celestium
In his De revolutionibus orbium celestium, Copernicus drew attention to this difficulty by saying that "since it is the heavens which contain and embrace all things as the place common to the universe, it will not be clear at once why movement should not be assigned to the contained rather than to the container" (1953: 515), later calling the latter option "absurd" (op cit: 520). That there was no way around this issue was clear to Copernicus in the late sixteenth century but not to philosophers of science in the twentieth, it seems. Whether the Aristotelian concept of place or the fixed Earth had to be rejected, his authority and infallibility could no longer be maintained.
It is well known that Copernicanism was slow to gain a following, with only ten Copernicans noted between 1543 and 1600 (those being Rheticus; Maestlin; Rothmann; Kepler; Bruno; Galileo himself; Digges, Harriot; de Zu iga; and Stevin) (Westman, 1986:85). One of the main (logical) objections to it was that it engaged in circular reasoning. That is, the motion of the Earth was assumed in order to explain phenomena; whereupon the excellence of the explanations was taken to imply the motion of the Earth (more strictly, this is affirming the consequent as before). In the Dialogue, Galileo had Simplicio voice this concern:
Supporters of the second myth we began with have looked elsewhere for justification of their reading of the Galileo affair. Another strand has focused on the idea that Bellarmine and the Church correctly rejected Copernicanism as unscientific (cf. Feyerabend, 1993: 126-129—his 2002: 247-264 is a distinct approach to the same question—and Duhem, 1908), with Duhem (op cit, quoted in de Santillana, 1958: 107) asserting that "[l]ogic was on the side of Osiander and Bellarmine and not on that of Kepler and Galileo". Bellarmine's letter to Foscarini of 1615 (XII, 171-172), quoted previously, is typically offered as indicative of his scientific bent, the charge being that while Galileo supposedly wanted unproven theories to be accepted as true, Bellarmine was far more reasonable in stating that Scriptural interpretations should not be changed on this faulty basis and that merely saving the appearances is not enough to render a theory true. This is the third point of the letter, however, and in emphasising it we lose sight of the second:
Another criticism of Galileo states that he was condemned by his own opinions from his Letter to Christina (for example, Shea, 2003:73-74):
When Galileo finally came to discuss the ebb and flow of the sea on the fourth day (although this ordering is open to doubt), he was disdainful of the idea that the Moon had a significant influence on the tides. He rejected the supposed attraction between the Moon and Earth as part of his general objection to "occult properties" (VII, 486) and sought a terrestrial, mechanical explanation. Since there was no proof or theory of gravitational attraction at that time, we might expect Galileo to be lauded by mythicists in the second sense for his (Bellarminean) scientific rejection of gravitational explanations of the tides. Instead, he is criticised for having held the incorrect opinion. In fact, there is an effect on the tides caused by the diurnal rotation of the Earth. Moreover, Galileo was well aware of the sheer complexity of the phenomenon and gave many factors that played a part in his theory (Dialogue, 457-462). Thus did Drake observe that "the departure of presentations of Galileo's theory from what he wrote goes ever widening" (1999, 2: 111). That Galileo did not consider his argument a proof of Copernicanism has already been established, but this attempt to justify the second myth remains popular. In short, Galileo's theory was "incorrect but scientific" (Drake, 2001: 93) and modern tidal theories retain a degree of intricacy that renders any attempt to speak of Galileo's as "inadequate" little more than anachronism (cf. Drake, 1999, 2: 107).
Galileo's stated purpose in the Letter, his correspondence and in the Dialogue itself was in any case already being practised by the Church. As is well known, there are Biblical passages suggesting a flat Earth (Daniel 4:11, for instance) that were not interpreted realistically (although Bellarmine's principle would have meant otherwise) and for the Church to insist on a literal reading would have been thought ridiculous, particularly by the Protestants. What Galileo was asking for, then, was neither new nor controversial. This should lead us to a rejection of the first myth, of course, because Galileo did get into trouble all the same.
- Great essay, Mr. C. However,......
"Consciousness... the dagger in the flesh” Jun 17 2010 06:36 PM
- Great stuff, Cam. Succinct bu......
Sisyphus Shrugged Jun 13 2010 11:53 PM
- Have you heard of Naranath th......
Sisyphus Shrugged Jun 19 2010 07:04 AM
- Excellent essay, Robert. I ho......
An Introduction to the Philosophy of Time Jun 19 2010 07:51 AM
- Some thoughts, for what they......
An Introduction to the Philosophy of Time Apr 14 2012 08:47 AM
- The Grand Design by Stephen Hawking
By davidm, Sep 11 2010 09:38 PM
- Radical Hope
By AllBlue, Jul 31 2010 07:42 AM
- Mimetopia and the illusion of meaning in Naboko...
By nivenkumar, Jul 02 2010 06:45 PM
- Mimetopia and the illusion of meaning in Naboko...
By nivenkumar, Jul 02 2010 06:47 PM
- An Introduction to the Philosophy of Time
By Big Blooming..., Jun 18 2010 07:54 PM
- Michael S. Pearl & the End of All Things
Michael S. Pearl May 20 2013 09:11 PM
- history of psychiatry
ephelotes May 20 2013 01:13 AM
- Anthropomorphizing Humans
Michael S. Pearl May 17 2013 06:52 PM
davidm Apr 27 2013 07:11 PM
- Man Facing 4-12 In Prison Needs Your Help
Scotty Apr 25 2013 07:11 PM