The Rediscovery Of The Highest Good

Stuart Hackett's The Rediscovery of the Highest Good, originally handwritten in spiral notebooks, is a masterwork of philosophical ethics that guides readers through 2300 years of discourse on the issue of morality, from Plato through Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. "It is the destiny of every human person to decide," Hackett opens. "Whether our choices are genuinely free or inevitably determined, invariably trivial or occasionally momentous, carelessly settled or reflectively reasoned, at least in one sense all this makes no difference: for the one thing about which persons have no choice is that we unavoidably and necessarily must choose, and cannot therefore escape our responsibility to do so." From this matter-of-fact beginning, Hackett builds a coherent case for "a modified teleological position" while providing fleeting personal glimpses into his "lifelong romance with philosophical contemplation." From the opening page, all the arguments are set down in a steady line of development, aimed unerringly toward a preconceived goal. At various points Hackett's summations produce a cerebral satisfaction that could almost be described as aesthetic, a kind of sheer intellectual pleasure akin to beauty. Recovery of the Highest Good is the culmination of forty years of reflection from a theistic perspective and is likely to be an invaluable handbook for inquirers in future generations.

Stuart Hackett's The Rediscovery of the Highest Good, originally handwritten in spiral notebooks, is a masterwork of philosophical ethics that guides readers through 2300 years of discourse on the issue of morality, from Plato through Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. It is the destiny of every human person to decide, Hackett opens. Whether our choices are genuinely free or inevitably determined, invariably trivial or occasionally momentous, carelessly settled or reflectively reasoned, at least in one sense all this makes no difference: for the one thing about which persons have no choice is that we unavoidably and necessarily must choose, and cannot therefore escape our responsibility to do so. From this matter-of-fact beginning, Hackett builds a coherent case for a modified teleological position while providing fleeting personal glimpses into his lifelong romance with philosophical contemplation. From the opening page, all the arguments are set down in a steady line of development, aimed unerringly toward a preconceived goal. At various points Hackett's summations produce a cerebral satisfaction that could almost be described as aesthetic, a kind of sheer intellectual pleasure akin to beauty. Recovery of the Highest Good is the culmination of forty years of reflection from a theistic perspective and is likely to be an invaluable handbook for inquirers in future generations.

By reconstructing it and tracing its vicissitudes, David Conway rehabilitates a time-honoured conception of philosophy, originating in Plato and Aristotle, which makes theoretical wisdom its aim. Wisdom is equated with possessing a demonstrably correct understanding of why the world exists and has the broad character it does. Adherents of this conception maintained the world to be the demonstrable creation of a divine intelligence in whose contemplation supreme human happiness resides. Their claims are defended against various latter-day scepticisms.

�EVERY art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pursuit, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good has rightly been declared to be that at which all things aim. But a certain difference is found among ends; some are activities, others are products apart from the activities that produce them. Where there are ends apart from the actions, it is the nature of the products to be better than the activities. Now, as there are many actions, arts, and sciences, their ends also are many; the end of the medical art is health, that of shipbuilding a vessel, that of strategy victory, that of economics wealth. But where such arts fall under a single capacity- as bridle-making and the other arts concerned with the equipment of horses fall under the art of riding, and this and every military action under strategy, in the same way other arts fall under yet others- in all of these the ends of the master arts are to be preferred to all the subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former that the latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities themselves are the ends of the actions, or something else apart from the activities, as in the case of the sciences just mentioned.�