It's on the coherence of the notion of "free will," and it's HERE. I hope we can all agree at this point that Simon Critchley really has done a very good job with this series and deserves all of our thanks (for that matter I can hope we agree that his book about how philosophers die is also really a first rate piece of popularization).
If I wasn't so pressed for time, I'd try to defend Critchley on his claim that Leiter always mocks (for an example see Leiter's post HERE), to the effect that continental philosophy is to some extent a series of footnotes to Kant's Third Critique.
Really, there is a sense in which both Leiter and Critchley are right because they mean different things by "continental philosophy." Leiter means the stuff actually done on the continent and Critchley means the Anglo-American tradition of selectively and hagiographically appropriating key thinkers from the continent [And to be honest, the focus on 1968 Parisians as providing the romantic anti-rational Other to analytic philosophy not only ends up being sometimes obnoxiously hagiographic, but is also vastly more disturbingly Orientalist than all those gone-native colonialists that Edward Said (actually in most cases unjustifiably if you study the history) makes so much fun of, and if you don't
get this you haven't presented papers in France and talked with actual
French philosophy professors.]
In any case, I encourage everyone to read the second and third chapters of Noel Carroll's A Philosophy of Mass Art, where he shows how both famed critics and celebrants of mass art get all of their arguments from a certain kind of appropriation of Kant's Third Critique. If you read that, and are sensitive to the narrative of phenomenology as something that leads teleologically to Derrida (read Lee Braver or Dermot Moran's fantastic books to get this kind of narrative; both books are so good that you should read them anyway), then you'll see that Critchley's claim is highly defensible. At some point I'll do a post on this.
I should be clear that my point about selective appropriation is not meant to be a slam on SPEPish Anglo-American Continental philosophy. All great philosophers (and their students) reconstruct a selective, anachronistic, cartoon (really Whiggish) history leading up to the philosopher in question.
(1) But people who are historically sensitive always see these histories as cartoons and see how much is left out in doing so. This is Beiser's perfectly understandable gripe about contemporary Hegelians (though, ironically, they are doing exactly what Hegel did!) and part of Leiter's critique of SPEP type Anglo-American Continental Philosophy. Beiser and Leiter both have an incredibly deep knowledge of everything that is elided in making the cartoon histories in question. This is fine with me. Philosophy always requires a delicate balance of anachronism (which is equally ascendent in both analytic and continental philosophy) and history. I don't think anything would get done if you didn't have both kinds of people. (2) Leiter obviously really loathes Derrida. Thus, even to the extent he goes along with Brandom or Rorty and accepts Whig histories as being a necessary part of philosophy (and any reader of Kant has to accept them to some extent, because the whole bit about empiricists and rationalists just is contemporary philosophy's ur-Whig history), he reacts with revulsion to one that would lead to Derrida. I think this is somewhat an open question and one reasonable people can disagree about. I mean (as long as you are not hyper historical) the truth of a Whig history really comes down to its cash value. But I find myself more on Critchley than Leiter's side here. The fact is that Braver and Moran's books (and Rorty's too) are just very rich philosophically. And, whatever you think of Derrida. . . [Full Disclosure: I find his unprofessional behavior towards less powerful academics who disagreed with him on even minor things to be so extraordinarily contemptible that it perhaps irrationally colors my view of him as a philosopher; likewise with regards to he and (some of!) his students' morally and intellectually contemptible hypocrisy/sophistry put in the service of explaining away the Nazi bits of Paul de Man and Heidegger.]
I mean whatever you think about Derrida as a cultural force or human being (and here one must have some humility; fame is almost invariably infantilizing to whomever is cursed with it), it should be clear that a lot of people who hold him in high philosophical esteem have done really interesting work (I think even Leiter would admit this with regard to Rorty; recently I've just been reading Martin Hagglund and Timothy Morton's great work). And this is some evidence that Derrida deserves higher regard as a philosopher than many of us take away after engagement with his work. [I got Derrida through Douglas Kellner, Louis Mackey, Robert Solomon as an undergraduate at the University of Texas at Austin, but honestly did not at the time have enough background in Heidegger to understand what was going on. Every time I go back and try to read Derrida after reading a philosopher I like who uses his work (and there are a number), I find Derrida's prose affectations to be insufferable; it's like I'm witness to all of the awful and myriad ways a personality can be destroyed by the quest for fame, and then being further destroyed by fame itself. The really obscene spectacle of a possible genius shambling through the detritus of a kind of primordial decision to sell his soul (there's even a movie! - one whose promotional posters guarantee us is like following Plato around for a day). . . I hope I'm wrong about this. The fact that people I respect don't see the prose as completely blighted in the way I do (and to be clear I am a fan of Heidegger and Adorno, so it's not a response to difficult prose) does give me hope.]
Anyhow, at some point I'm going to explicate Carroll on Kant's Third Critique and show how that makes Critchley's claim about the tradition in which he works both defensible and philosophically interesting. Moreover, philosophically interesting to the most analytic of analytic philosophers. Maybe I should have started doing that in the time it took to write this post.
Pete,