Ever since humans evolved into self-awareness, they have been searching for the universal truths that underpin both their environment and their souls. For we are sparks of life within an all-but-eternal experiment. And there is nothing grander than to try to best understand that experiment and our place within it before we die and pass on the torch of discovery to those who will succeed us. After all, the answers to such cosmic questions are too enormous to be found in a single lifetime. If they are to be solved, it will be by those who stood on the shoulders of the countless generations that preceded them. But just how will we arrive at those answers? What avenues of inquiry must we pursue? And while we're pursuing them, how should we live our lives? How can we be moral creatures? These are the musings that bring together Mr. Precht's treatise on philosophy and the human brain. It is an interesting if unoriginal journey.
From Mirror Neurons to Phineas Gage, from the morality of eating animals to the practice of euthanasia, Who Am I And If So How Many is Mr. Precht's journey through the dangerous and contentious jungles of philosophy and neurology. Without choosing sides in this increasingly quarrelsome battle between disciplines that attempt to explain the inexplicable, the author gives his readers a crash course in the history of philosophy while bringing them up to speed on the milestone discoveries of neurology. Along the way, he introduces us to the key figures of both fields, giants of thought and science who have done as much to shape our world as the generals and the politicians who so dominate our history books. In this, he creates a compelling portrait of the uneasy marriage between these two such disparate fields and the extent to which they will continue to be linked for decades and generations to come.
Who Am I And If So How Many is a swift and fascinating read. Mr. Precht is a charming guide through the thorny undergrowth that so defines the scientific ground over which philosophy and neurology are currently fighting. More over, he stays commendably neutral in the questions he raises, professorially extending to his readers the data they will need to draw their own conclusions about the mind and the brain. However, while Mr. Precht manages to educate and entertain in equal measure, I found myself frustrated by a total absence of original thought or research.
The author pays extensive homage to the historical giants upon whose shoulders he stands, but he does so without taking advantage of their discoveries and advancing the arguments further with his own contributions. Perhaps he does this elsewhere, in the classroom or in his other writings, but the piece certainly called out for Mr. Precht to supplement his account with his own conjectures. He is perfectly willing to do so on personal matters. But charming though his anecdotes are, his readers are surely eager for something from the author with more depth than personal reminiscences.
This is a delightful jaunt. Mr. Precht would be a fascinating man with whom to spend an evening, ruminating on the nature of man and his soul over a bottle of quality wine. But it seems to me that he conflated neutrality in the war between philosophy and neurology with neutrality on the pressing questions of the day, leaving others to venture their own opinions while reducing his own to witty bromides. A worthy but slightly annoying read. (3/5 Stars)
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