This piece is pure delight. Pedagogically brilliant. You’ve done something rare, which is to make philosophy and early science feel alive, curious, messy, and human. Not some dry academic list of names and dates.
If I could add anything to stir the pot a little more, I’d say this early Greek “genius” was a product of freedom and fallible gods AND also of disruption. The collapse of the Bronze Age system, the gaps in power, and the rebuilding that followed. Much like our own time, periods of rupture often create fertile ground for radical thought. When the old stories break down, people are forced to imagine new ones. And that’s what the pre-Socratics were doing... making wild guesses, yes, but also imagining new cosmologies. That process, naming reality anew, is still the beating heart of both science and philosophy.
Thank you for writing this. I’ll definitely be tuning in for the next episode (queen of the sciences? Count me in).
This piece is pure delight. Pedagogically brilliant. You’ve done something rare, which is to make philosophy and early science feel alive, curious, messy, and human. Not some dry academic list of names and dates.
If I could add anything to stir the pot a little more, I’d say this early Greek “genius” was a product of freedom and fallible gods AND also of disruption. The collapse of the Bronze Age system, the gaps in power, and the rebuilding that followed. Much like our own time, periods of rupture often create fertile ground for radical thought. When the old stories break down, people are forced to imagine new ones. And that’s what the pre-Socratics were doing... making wild guesses, yes, but also imagining new cosmologies. That process, naming reality anew, is still the beating heart of both science and philosophy.
Thank you for writing this. I’ll definitely be tuning in for the next episode (queen of the sciences? Count me in).