My philosophical output is controversial, highly praised by some and abhorred by others. When she reviewed A Common Humanity: Thinking about Love & Truth & Justice in the philosophy journal, Mind, Sophie Grace Chappell wrote that my work “does not stand on the battleground of theories”. I think she is right. I have invited philosophers to step off the battlefield so that they might see that their shared assumptions, which constitute the battlefield and distort what is at issue between them, are perhaps more significant than their disagreements.
In 1997 I published Romulus, My Father, a memoir that was praised as a work of literature and secured many invitations to writer’s festival. That is the main reasons why I’m called a writer.
Romulus, My Father changed the way I write. The English philosopher, Roger Scruton, called The Philosopher’s Dog, “an experiment in narrative philosophy”. He liked the book, so I assume he thought the experiment succeeded.
At the end of my Preface to the 2nd edition of Good and Evil: An Absolute Conception, I write:
Am I suggesting that the distinction between philosophy and art should be blurred? Yes and no. Philosophy should still be primarily a discursive discipline, distinguished markedly from the writing of novels, poetry and plays.
But if the discursive is no longer restricted to the exercise of the kind of thought in which form and content are separable, then, in roughly those parts of philosophy that the Europeans call philosophical anthropology, there will be no marked distinction between the narratives that must, to some degree, nourish inquiry and philosophical engagement with them.