Recently, a number of friends have gradually found me through KKBBS and blogs and the like, hoping to consult me about the graduate entrance examination and about systematic methods for studying philosophy of science and technology. I’m sorry to say that, as a lazy student admitted by recommendation, I know virtually nothing about the graduate entrance examination; as for studying philosophy of science and technology, while I can hardly claim to have no experience at all, I am still, after all, only at the beginner stage—at most I can offer and share some beginner’s-beginner experience.
But most of the people who come seeking help need guidance at the beginner level anyway; if they had already found their way, of course they would not go to so much trouble to consult me. Although my ability is limited, I am after all a properly trained philosophy student from Peking University, so compared with those who have not been fortunate enough to enjoy such an opportunity, if I were still to refuse to offer any guidance in the name of “freedom,” that would be a bit hard to justify.
Undergraduate study can be said to be a “systematic” way of entering a field. I’ll use our courses as a clue to sort out one route of entry. However, I am mainly trying to provide friends who have not had the chance to study in an environment like Peking University’s with a rough sketch of an introduction to philosophy/philosophy of science and technology. The books I list are all relatively new and easy to find in the market; if you lack a decent academic bookstore nearby, you can also buy them online (Joyo, Dangdang, Blue Whale, Kongfuzi, etc.; see the blog’s friend links). What I call “courses” below, although corresponding to courses offered at Peking University, can also represent a self-learner’s study topics; I am not especially trying to recommend only the courses or reading lists I name. If you are a Peking University student and interested in philosophy of science and technology, then you can ignore the following and contact me directly to talk~
The first course, of course, is “Introduction to Philosophy.” To be frank, the approach of the Introduction to Philosophy courses I took from the two masters (Teacher Ye and Teacher Zhang) was not to my liking. If I were to design it, I would define the mission of an Introduction to Philosophy course as “guiding students to take the first step on the road of philosophy.” So what is the first step on the road of philosophy? To say that philosophy is philosophy’s own history is certainly not wrong, but the starting point of this long history of philosophy must be traced back to the ancient Greek “love of wisdom.” In Aristotle’s account, the origins of philosophy are threefold: curiosity, leisure, and the tradition of debate. An “Introduction to Philosophy” should also focus on cultivating these three roots.
Any philosophy course should place reading texts at the center, but Introduction to Philosophy cannot be taught this way. The mission of Introduction to Philosophy is precisely to point out the starting point from which you will later face those texts and topics, and to cultivate your most basic philosophical attitude. Only when you read the classics actively, with spontaneous curiosity and a non-utilitarian desire for knowledge, are those texts alive for you; but if you read them under coercion, as a task to be completed, then however carefully and minutely you may read, you have already departed from the original intention of philosophy.
Philosophy is the love of wisdom, arising from the spontaneous need of the lover of wisdom, stemming from childlike curiosity. An Introduction to Philosophy course should help students discover this desire and demand within themselves, encourage them to search for the answers to their own confusions, and ultimately point out that road that, once you begin to pursue it, you cannot avoid—“history.”
Just as Socrates gave the hint: the first step in “loving wisdom” is precisely to “bring down the pedestal” of “wisdom.” Socrates was exactly this sort of annoying “demolition man”: he went everywhere looking for people who claimed to be “wise,” argued with them, and as a result found that they were in fact just as ignorant; Socrates’ wisdom lay only in the fact that he “knew that he was ignorant.” This “knowledge of ignorance” is the starting point of philosophy—precisely because one is ignorant can one “seek knowledge”; if one already has knowledge in hand, why seek it again?
Therefore, for friends who want to enter philosophy, I suggest that the first step is not to rush to read any book, but to try to sort out one’s existing prejudices—what exactly do I know? Take note of and reflect on what you usually say and write, especially those seemingly reasonable but actually dubious “truths.” Ask yourself: what exactly am I saying? What exactly do these concepts mean? When I use these words, do I understand their meaning clearly? Of course, the result of such interrogation should be: how ignorant I actually am—even to the point that I cannot even say what “ignorance” means!
Then, although one knows full well that wisdom can never be possessed, the lover of wisdom will not therefore abandon the pursuit. Of course, if you were to give up easily—after all, in the end everyone is still ignorant, so what is the use of continuing to ask?—then you need not continue asking. You may choose the life you identify with and the path you love; no one is forcing you to take the road of philosophy. One who steps onto the road of philosophy should make it clear: asking questions is useless; philosophy is a “useless” discipline, and the “leisurely” person is suited to it, because it is nothing more than being full and having nothing better to do. If, knowing this full well, you nonetheless continue your pursuit against your own will, then set out on the road.
Of course, teachers and books can sometimes also play a role in giving you a nudge, helping you discover things you have long taken for granted and found unremarkable, guiding you to learn some of the tricks and key points of asking questions and having insights, and appropriately laying out before you the map of the jungle you are about to enter. That is what courses and books of Introduction to Philosophy can do.
Why can’t scholarship do without “history” and “classics”? Because if you keep questioning, you will inevitably encounter them. Our language, concepts, ways of thinking, and world picture (worldview) do not appear out of thin air; we are always situated within history, and we inherit our language and ideas from history. Therefore, if we want to question the essence of ideas, we must always touch history. Time’s passing leaves no trace in itself, but its clues are nevertheless left behind in memory, and the classic texts are precisely the memory sediment left by history. If we do not pursue our inquiry here, what other method is there?
I have already discussed topics such as philosophy and history elsewhere; what I want to emphasize here is only this: although philosophy is inseparable from the history of philosophy, the starting point of the road of philosophy can only be here at “me.” “What am I?” “Where do I come from?” “Where am I going?” “What do I possess?” “What do I desire?” “What am I doing?” “What should I do?” … The starting point of philosophy is entirely “selfish.”
As for the recommended readings for Introduction to Philosophy, what I have always recommended are Big Questions and The Tree of Philosophy, or perhaps one could add a new one, An Invitation to Philosophy. The strengths and weaknesses of An Invitation to Philosophy are both its simplicity; it is said to be a Spanish secondary-school philosophy textbook. Of course, given the extreme lack of humanities education in Chinese primary and secondary education, it should be just right for our university students. In terms of style, format, and the arrangement of themes, this book is most in line with my design; The Tree of Philosophy, meanwhile, suits my taste in its viewpoints and emphases, and in particular it prompted my attention to Kant, with highly notable results; and setting aside my subjective preferences mentioned above, Big Questions is perhaps the best-written of the three. So I recommend them side by side, and you can choose according to your own interests. Of course, it is also good to read more books; they need not necessarily be “philosophy books.” Any academic book can serve as an introduction to philosophy, because they will always point out “problems” to you; so long as you do not lightly give up the pursuit, you will always touch philosophy. Of course, what exactly it means to “touch philosophy,” and where the boundary of philosophy lies—I cannot give an answer here. These questions also await your own inquiry.
Of course, studying philosophy is not just about “asking questions” all the time and never obtaining “answers.” The ultimate, unique answer is indeed unattainable, but on the road of philosophy, although we cannot obtain that “one answer,” we can obtain many, many answers. Philosophical books and texts also record the stage-by-stage achievements attained by our predecessors. These achievements are like roads and signposts built in an endless jungle; although these roads do not lead to a “destination,” and these signposts do not point to a “destination,” their existence at least helps to expand the vision and territory of those who come later. Perhaps there has never really been any “destination” at all; “truth” is not a fixed, immovable place, but this “Way”—the road under our feet.
I won’t say too much about these abstruse matters for the moment. I only want to introduce the second course: the course of history. That is, the place where we can find countless answers. In our department, this means the two courses “History of Western Philosophy” and “History of Chinese Philosophy.”
Although for a philosophy of science and technology major one may perhaps no longer need to deal with topics in Chinese philosophy in the future, I personally still recommend making the History of Chinese Philosophy a required course. On the one hand, we are after all Chinese, and when we ask questions such as “What kind of person am I?” “Where do I come from?” we cannot avoid the intellectual history of China. On the other hand, “science” is a Western concept; precisely for this reason, comparing the similarities and differences between Eastern and Western conceptual systems can help us understand what “science” really is—did China have “science”? Depending on different understandings of “science,” one can give entirely different answers. If the answer is yes, in what sense was Chinese science common with Western science? If the answer is no, why did science fail to emerge in China? These are all important topics in philosophy of science and technology, involving scientific demarcation, the relationship between science and society, economy, and culture, and so on. And if one wishes to discuss these questions, then an understanding of traditional Chinese thought will undoubtedly provide inspiration and assistance.
As for books on Chinese philosophy, according to Yang Zi’s remark back then: at least one version of the Analects should be read; ideally one should read the Collected Commentaries on the Four Books; and at the very least of the very least of the very least, one should read the Doctrine of the Mean among them. I also feel that this is the bare minimum. The Doctrine of the Mean is very short; even without being driven by curiosity and the desire for knowledge (and in Chinese philosophical tradition, there is not, after all, a force like the Western “being full and having nothing better to do”), it would not be excessive to require one to read the Doctrine of the Mean. As for whether one likes it or not, whether it is meaningful or not, one should at least wait until after reading this little book before talking about it; and some people do not even read a single original text, continuing the influence of “Down with the Kong family shop” or sneering at Chinese tradition in the name of “science, democracy, progress”—that is truly ridiculous.
As for the original texts such as the Analects, Laozi, and Zhuangzi, for outsiders a good annotated edition is still very necessary. Unless your foundation in classical Chinese is already sufficiently good, intuition alone cannot easily break through the barrier between classical Chinese and modern Chinese (which, in fact, has been transformed under Western linguistic influence). For example, the “ziran” in Laozi and Zhuangzi is often understood by people to mean “nature” in the modern sense; in fact, in classical texts “ziran” is not a two-character word at all, but only means “self-so” — that is, “of itself thus.” Without annotations, such elementary or advanced mistakes are probably not rare.
I’m ashamed to say that I have read too few books on Chinese philosophy to provide reliable recommendations. Besides the indispensable Collected Commentaries on the Four Books, probably Qian Mu’s Outline History of China and New Interpretation of the Analects, Chen Guying’s Annotated and Newly Translated Laozi/Zhuangzi, and Mou Zongsan’s Nineteen Lectures on Chinese Philosophy are worth recommending.
For the study of philosophy of science and technology, compared with the History of Chinese Philosophy, the History of Western Philosophy is undoubtedly more important. As an introductory course, perhaps it could be replaced by “History of Western Thought.” It could link together the intellectual lines of Western philosophy, science, and religion. As an introductory map, I think this course does not need to require extensive reading of original texts; the focus should be on sketching the general contours of the development of Western ideas, and pointing out the mutual influence of philosophy, science, and religion in intellectual history, along with their broad trends and characteristics. There is a book on the market called History of Western Thought that is quite good. A history book need not necessarily be written in chronological order either; Western Big Ideas, indexed by keywords, is also of course an excellent reference book (it’s very thick, and need not be read through). As for philosophy history, what I recommend is the Zhonghua Book Company edition of History of Western Philosophy (Seventh Edition). In addition, Shanghai Translation’s History of Western Philosophy (From Ancient Greece to the Twentieth Century) should also be good (though I only read the latter in my freshman year and thought it was pretty good; I have never re-evaluated it). If you want something more classic, you can choose Windelband’s A History of Philosophy and Thilly’s History of Philosophy.
When reading intellectual history or the history of philosophy, never read it as a mere “chronological table of major events.” That is how middle school history textbooks are written. But such a mode of study merely lets you memorize a great deal of “knowledge” without aiding your thinking in the least. Remember that philosophy is a “journey of ignorance”; rather than extracting great baskets of “knowledge” from history books, it is better to use history to comprehend “ignorance.” The trick is to appreciate the differences between conceptual systems and world pictures in ancient and modern times, in China and abroad. For example, the same two characters, “ziran,” in ancient China and ancient Greece both meant “self-so,” whereas in modern times they acquired the meaning of “nature” and “all things.” How did this happen? Similarly, concepts such as time, space, freedom, science, and so on have all continuously changed with the progress of history… How exactly did ancient people think? How did they use these concepts? We do not know. But we need to ask, we try to understand sympathetically, and strive to discern the similarities and differences among ideas, so as to understand the origins and foundations of the concepts we are using, and to understand the ins and outs of the world we face. These are the gains that can be obtained in history.
Of course, as mentioned earlier, as an introductory course, this stage’s “History of Western Thought” is only meant to provide a rough outline and trajectory. If one wants a deeper understanding of the origins of concepts and the threads of thought, one needs to read the classics and texts that have come down to us.
The next course is mathematics. For students in the sciences and engineering, mathematics is of course the most fundamental course. But here, the significance of mathematics as an introductory course is not that it is an essential basic skill, but that it is a course in “cultural common knowledge.” If modern science has already become a kind of culture or even a kind of religion, then “mathematics” is its most basic “ritual.” To gain a deeper understanding of a culture, of course it is not enough to rely only on studying its established ritual norms, but this study is undoubtedly important. Mathematics is the highest norm and basic ritual of modern science; no matter to what extent and in what ways scientists actually follow their rules, its importance is at least beyond question.
But as preparation for entering philosophy of science and technology, to what extent does one need to learn mathematics? Personally, I think a cursory survey is enough. A rough study does not mean one cannot gain insight from it; the key is the “reflective perspective.” First, do not learn mathematics merely as a practical skill (of course it is indeed a skill), but learn it as a culture, as a ritual,
Among the courses already available, taking one “Advanced Mathematics” course is enough; any level from A to D is acceptable, and I think that is the minimum requirement. Merely taking a popular mathematics book to read is certainly not enough. Unlike philosophy books, mathematics books cannot be read lying down; one must read and do the exercises at the same time to achieve the desired effect. It’s like learning a ritual: simply observing and reading from the sidelines is half as effective, and it is best if one can take part personally in the practice, so as to have a deeper impression and experience. But one must also be able to get out after going in, since in the end one still has to stand in a reflective position; remaining immersed in it forever won’t do either. Therefore I recommend the method of tasting only a little: neither delving too deeply nor being too casual; the bottom line is that one must personally do the problems and exercises.
Besides Advanced Mathematics, I think it would be even better if there were a course on the “history of mathematics.” The key themes are Euclidean geometry, the invention of analytic geometry and calculus, the introduction of new concepts such as fractions, negative numbers, irrational numbers, and imaginary numbers, the rise of non-Euclidean geometry, and debates over the foundations of mathematics. These themes can form a thread running through the entire history of Western thought. Of course, studying the history of mathematics cannot be merely listening to stories; on the one hand, one still needs to do problems, and on the other hand, one needs to connect it with the history of Western thought from time to time.
Among works on the history of mathematical thought, the most classic is unquestionably Klein’s Ancient and Modern Mathematical Thought. But that set is a bit too thick, and the themes are spread too broadly; some interesting topics are not developed further. I recommend that beginners at least read Klein’s Mathematics: The Loss of Certainty, which may be the best mathematics popularization book currently on the market. Its topics are also closely related to philosophy and philosophy of science and technology. Of course, Klein’s other works, such as Mathematics in Western Culture and The Quest for Knowledge in Mathematics, are also very good. Another book in the same translation series as the previous two is What Is Mathematics? and it is also worth recommending.
By the way, let me mention other courses in the natural sciences. Besides mathematics, I think one should at least experience one science: physics, chemistry, biology, or computer science; engineering or medicine would also do. As a necessary practical experience. To what extent should one learn it? I think the very most introductory level is enough. After all, we are talking about an introduction to philosophy of science and technology, not an introduction to physics or biology, so a little taste is sufficient. For example, taking a course in “General Physics,” or “College Chemistry,” “General Biology,” “Introduction to Computing,” and so on, is enough. But be sure to study properly, honestly, with a serious university textbook; one must absolutely not imagine that reading a few popular science books can replace it.
Of course, it is still quite interesting to read some popular science books appropriately. However, there is no mandatory reading list. Just choose some according to your own interests. Of course, given the current situation, popular science books must be translated works to read (with a very small number of exceptions, such as Cao Tianyuan’s Does God Play Dice?). One might as well pick books one is interested in from some excellent translated popular science series. There are too many books; I can only casually list a few that are coming to mind right now: Black Holes and Time Warps, The Fabric of the Cosmos, Big Bang Discovery, Does God Play Dice?—A History of Quantum Physics, Mathematics: The Loss of Certainty, Euclid in the Rainforest, The Man Who Loved Only Numbers, A Long Argument, Chaos, The Demon-Haunted World……
Besides thematic popular science books, things like scientists’ biographies and scientific “readers” are also good choices, such as the University Science Reader and Twenty Lectures on Science compiled by Wu lao-shi.
As a philosophy of science and technology student, reading too many popular science books isn’t very interesting, but I think reading at least one or two excellent works of popular science should count as a very basic requirement, shouldn’t it? No matter what your major is, you cannot possibly be a universal expert in science; even if you understand the cutting edge of physics, you may not understand biology, and there are always some scientific fields that are unfamiliar to you. Reading a few popular science books may be good.
Next, let us return to the “history course.” As an introduction to philosophy of science and technology, a course in the general history of science and technology is of course necessary. The intellectual histories, philosophy histories, and history of mathematics mentioned earlier are all of course inseparable from the “history of science and technology,” but as an important introductory course, it is also necessary to single out “history of science and technology” as a focus.
As an introductory course, a general history of science and technology is of course still a matter of skimming the surface and getting the roughest possible overall picture. This contemplation of the whole is unquestionably necessary for later, more detailed study, because knowledge of the overall background is the precondition for “seeing the big through the small” and “making a big deal out of a small topic.” Otherwise, if one heads straight for some specific topic in some specific period, one can only “make a small deal out of a small topic” and gain no especially profound insight.
As for reference books for a general history of science and technology, for the present they are still, without exception, translated works that one must read. Although Wu Laoshi’s The Course of Science is quite good, we still look forward to his long-rumored soon-to-be-published Textbook of the General History of Science. In addition, McClellan III’s A History of Science and Technology in the World is the first book I would recommend; next is Lindberg’s The Beginnings of Western Science. Depending on one’s personal interests, one can also choose to read some specialized histories, such as A History of Evolutionary Thought or the “Cambridge XX History” series, and so on.
Along with Introduction to Philosophy there is another required course for the whole department: mathematical logic. To say this course is important, well, perhaps it is not all that important; to say it is interesting, well, it is not all that interesting either. Still, as a basic skills course, it is worth studying. Although, like mathematics, mathematical logic can also be treated as a cultural course, my suggestion here is to regard it as sheer technique from beginning to end. One can take this course as the most basic sort of “workout.” Just as you train by running and lifting dumbbells in order to take part in athletic competition, these basic conditioning activities are of course not as interesting as the competition itself, and at first glance they may not even seem directly related; but in order to ensure at least a minimal level of physical fitness so as to participate smoothly in competition and games, such basic physical training is still necessary. As basic training before participating in the competition and game of thought, learning logic should be a pretty good approach. You do not necessarily have to keep the tools of mathematical logic with you at all times, just as you do not train with dumbbells in order to carry dumbbells around with you at all times. You can absolutely put mathematical logic down when engaging in philosophical inquiry; you can absolutely reject and criticize the logicists. But training in mathematical logic can still be greatly beneficial.
When learning logic, one must learn modern mathematical logic, or formal logic, and not always immerse oneself in so-called “logic reasoning training” that is like brainteasers. Studying formal logic is both a more efficient method of training and helpful for future understanding of contemporary developments in science and philosophy. I recommend that amateur beginners in philosophy of technology at least read one textbook on formal logic. Of course, like mathematics, it cannot be read while lying down; one must read and work through it at the same time, and by all means learn to write complete derivations and arguments oneself. If one has the time and interest, one can continue on to set theory, modal logic, and so forth. But there is no need to become overly fixated, after all, since deep research in logic is not the mission of philosophy of technology.
I think the required courses for beginners in philosophy of technology are probably just those mentioned above. You may be surprised that I have not placed the most directly relevant “Introduction to Philosophy of Science” in a central position. That is because I feel that once one has outlined the broad contours above and practiced the most basic exercises in reflection and argumentation, students are already sufficiently able to go out and find specific topics in philosophy of technology to investigate on their own. The courses below, although still introductory courses, should all count as a buffet, with each student choosing according to his or her own taste and needs, while gradually clarifying their own interests and strengths and building a platform for their future research.
However, among the many elective courses, “Introduction to Philosophy of Science” is after all the first to bear the brunt, and that is why I have placed it in this position of transition between the preceding and the following.
In the broadest sense, any inquiry or exploration with “what exactly is science (technology)?” as its theme can be included under “philosophy of science (technology),” and the history of science and technology is included as well. But in the narrower sense, “philosophy of science” refers to a line of inquiry in modern Western philosophy begun by the Vienna Circle. This line of inquiry originated in Hume’s problem of induction; its more direct source, however, was the early twentieth-century debate on the foundations of mathematics. It was mainly developed by logical positivists and then took a turn through the influence of thinkers such as Wittgenstein, Popper, and Kuhn. By the time the postmodern tide had risen, the prospects for this line of inquiry had become increasingly obscure.
As an introduction, one should of course not begin with postmodernism, but rather start by sorting it out from its sources. At the very least, one should begin with logical positivism, or perhaps trace the path from Hume to Kant and see what kinds of problems philosophy of science has faced along the way, what it is that philosophers of science have been concerned with, and how the focus of those concerns has changed.
As for reference books on philosophy of technology, Chalmers’s What Is This Thing Called Science? is of course the first choice; the newly translated edition recently issued by the Commercial Press should be good. Second is the German scholar Bosse’s Science: What Is Science?, which, compared with books by British and American authors, has a somewhat distinctive perspective and is also worth reading. Hempel’s Philosophy of Natural Science is a more traditional classic. In addition, there is a book called A Guide to the Philosophy of Science, organized by keywords, which can also be consulted.
Below there is a great deal of “buffet” material; roughly speaking, it can be divided into three categories: general humanities courses; specialized courses on philosophy; and specialized courses related to philosophy of science and technology. No one course is absolutely necessary, but as the basic scaffolding for an introduction to philosophy of technology, one should at least distinguish among the different kinds of courses and choose several that interest one. First of all, one should ensure a relatively broad horizon; in areas of particular interest, one can then attempt some degree of deeper study, as warm-up preparation for future research.
The close connections between philosophy of technology and other fields in the humanities and social sciences, as well as between philosophy of technology and other areas within philosophy, have already been mentioned in my “Promoting Philosophy of Technology” series, so I will not repeat them here.
In “Promoting Philosophy of Technology” I already mentioned the various turning points in the history of Western philosophy that are relevant to philosophy of technology—for example, ancient Greek natural philosophy; faith and reason; modern rationalism and empiricism (or, one could view them through the lens of “Enlightenment”); Kant’s philosophy; Marx’s rebellion (including the development of twentieth-century Western neo-Marxism); the debate over the foundations of mathematics; the rise of positivism and analytic philosophy; the rise of phenomenology and existentialism; the “linguistic turn”; the rise of postmodernism… Each of the above themes is deeply connected with philosophy of technology. However, when taking these courses, there is no need deliberately to entangle oneself with technological questions; it is better simply to study them honestly as courses in Western philosophy. Of course, it is absolutely impossible to study each of the above themes in depth, but as introductory training in philosophy of technology, I think the minimum requirement is that within at least one or two of these areas, one should select several specific topics and carry out some more in-depth discussion and research. By “more in-depth,” at the very least, one should read the relevant classic original works (or at least Chinese translations), and write several respectable academic papers. The papers should be at least seven or eight thousand characters long; as for observing basic academic norms, citing sources, indicating references, and so on, I need not say more. One must absolutely read books written by the philosophers themselves; one must absolutely learn how to write proper academic papers. I am speaking mainly to friends who did not come from a philosophy major background; students in the philosophy department of course do not need my reminder.
The above related reference books are, on the one hand, too many and too broad in scope; on the other hand, I do not know them well enough, so for the moment I will not recommend them one by one. Anyway, if beginners feel overwhelmed by the sea of books, it is not a bad idea to choose works written only by foreigners, to try to select those published by well-known academic presses, to choose books whose bindings are not overly flashy, and, best of all, to choose academic books that include proper notes, bibliographies, and indexes. Quality is then often better guaranteed.
Specialized courses in philosophy of technology are rarely offered to undergraduates in our department. Apart from the laziness of the teachers, I think this is also because they are not that important. Through the accumulation of the science, humanities, history, and philosophy courses mentioned above, one should already have enough for an introduction to philosophy of technology, because the connections between philosophy of technology and these themes are so wide-ranging that one can find an entry point for philosophy of technology almost anywhere. Of course, there are still introductory-level courses in philosophy of technology or the humanities of science and technology.
In addition to the aforementioned Introduction to Philosophy of Science, the next courses to mention are “Introduction to Natural Philosophy” and “Introduction to Philosophy of Technology.” In our department, both of these undergraduate courses are taught by Wu Laoshi. Neither course has a fixed teaching paradigm; what exactly is taught and how it is taught are entirely Wu Laoshi’s design, and of course there are no designated textbooks, so it is difficult to reproduce them for friends who do not have the chance to come to Peking University to attend the classes. “Introduction to Natural Philosophy” mainly refers to Collingwood’s The Idea of Nature; for “Introduction to Philosophy of Technology,” I would suggest directly reading the relevant works of Marx, Heidegger, Marcuse, Feenberg, and so on. At present, it seems that the only thing remotely usable as a reference is the Philosophy of Technology Textbook edited by Qiao Rujin. In the “What Do I Know?” series introduced by the Commercial Press, there is a small volume titled Philosophy of Technology, which can also be used if you can find it.
In addition, as border-crossing fields that can serve as introductions, there are courses such as environmental ethics, bioethics, sociology of science, and science and religion. For environmental ethics, one can read the recently published Modern Environmental Ethics, Foundations of Environmental Ethics, as well as earlier translated works such as Introduction to Environmental Ethics and Philosophy Goes into the Wild. Among Chinese-language works, Ecology and Ethics, edited by He Huaihong, is one of the better ones. For bioethics, I recommend the Peking University Press volume Foundations of Bioethics. In sociology of science, there seem to be very few books of the introductory overview type; one can directly read original SSK works such as Knowledge and the Social Imaginary, though I would not recommend reading them too early. For science and religion, I recommend Science and Religion in the Cambridge History of Science series published by the Fudan University Press, as well as When Science Meets Religion and An Introduction to Science and Religion.
It is also worth mentioning that, as an introduction to philosophy of technology, Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions should count as required reading. Although Kuhn’s prose is by no means obscure, I still recommend reading it after one has accumulated a certain amount of background in both philosophy and the history of science and technology. When reading Kuhn, one can at the same time pay attention to authors such as Popper and Lakatos before and after him, and one can also compare these lines of development with analytic philosophy, Wittgenstein, postmodernism, and so on.
I suppose the above should be about enough accumulation for an introduction to philosophy of technology, right? Of course, this is only my own untested idea, and it is meant as a reply to the various related questions I have encountered. How to study in concrete terms is obviously up to each person. If there are any further opinions or questions, please leave a comment on my blog or continue to communicate with me privately.
August 5, 2008
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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