Saul Fisher

Central issues in philosophy of architecture include foundational matters regarding the nature of: (1) architecture as an artform, design medium, or other product or practice; (2) architectural objects—what sorts of things they are; how they differ from other sorts of objects; and how we define the range of such objects; (3) special architectural properties, like the standard trio of structural integrity (firmitas), beauty, and utility—or space, light, and form; and ways they might be special to architecture; (4) architectural types—how to consider abstract groups of architectural objects and their instances; (5) meaning and other language-like phenomena in architecture and its objects; (6) formation of and warrant for our basic grasp, and considered judgment, of architectural objects; and (7) social and moral features of architectural objects and architectural practice. Yet other questions engage applied philosophical concerns regarding architecture, such as the character of architectural notation; intellectual property rights; and client-architect obligations. A far-reaching philosophy of architecture extends beyond even a broadly aesthetics-based assessment, to include considerations of ethics, social and political philosophy, and philosophical reflections on psychology and the behavioral sciences. The aesthetics of architecture, by itself, spans traditional issues mooted in philosophy of art, as well as aesthetics of the everyday, and environmental aesthetics. Such traditional issues include the nature of the work; the possibility of classes, kinds, or types in the domain; the character and roles of representation, intentionality, and expression; and the warranted foundations for criticism. The ethics of architecture also addresses traditional issues, including delineation of rights, responsibilities, the good, virtues, and justice in architectural milieus. Still other aspects of philosophy of architecture concern social and technological characteristics.

Philosophical ethicists have not yet fully explored, or even mapped out, the problems posed by architectural practice. While some have attempted such explorations, their accounts suffer assorted philosophical deficits, and generally miss the aim of reasoned moral analysis. I believe that the most fruitful attempts to think about such issues in philosophical terms—in lieu of an analytical architectural ethics—are found in the body of architectural law. There we may glimpse some promising philosophical considerations pertaining to such matters as intellectual property, the judgement of others’ actions, and responsibilities to others.

In his Languages of Art, Nelson Goodman proposes a theory of artistic notation that includes foundational requirements for any system of symbols we might use to specify and communicate the features of an artwork, in architecture or any other art form. Goodmans' theory usefully explains how notation can reveal linguistic-like phenomena of various art forms. But not all art forms can enjoy benefits of a full-blown notational system, in Goodman's view, and he suggests that architecture's symbol systems fall short in this regard. It is a shortcoming of architecture, he believes, that its notation cannot communicate the sum of a given work's essential features. Against this view it may be argued that artworks are generally and inimically historical in character, such that an inability to capture this dimension may result in a failure to pick out the identity of a work. As a consequence, the suggestion of that inability looks like a shortcoming of the general notational theory rather than of the art form or its notation per se. I defend Goodman's background formalism against the criticism that an ahistoricist notation cannot possibly be adequate. But I reject his view that no actual architectural notation can satisfy the formal criteria of his theory. In particular, I propose that the foundational theory for Computer Aided Design (CAD) described by the architect William Mitchell satisfies Goodman's criteria and so yields a notation that enables communication of an architectural work's essential features. If, as I suggest, such a notation is feasible, then we have an additional result that Goodman foresees: a means of abstracting future architectural works from their historical contexts. This in turn yields a consequence at which Goodman only hints-that such architectural works can be intellectually grasped and physically constructed along purely formalist lines. One practical result here is that we introduce economical solutions to architectural design. On a theoretical level, we also expose the inessential character of historical properties to creating or understanding architecture, at least with respect to future possible works.

Pierre Gassendi (b. 1592, d. 1655) was a French philosopher, scientific chronicler, observer, and experimentalist, scholar of ancient texts and debates, and active participant in contemporary deliberations of the first half of the seventeenth century. His significance in early modern thought has in recent years been rediscovered and explored, towards a better understanding of the dawn of modern empiricism, the mechanical philosophy, and relations of modern philosophy to ancient and medieval discussions. Through an arch-empiricism—tempered by adherence to key elements of Church doctrine—Gassendi views metaphysics as a realm for speculation grounded in the possibility of empirical confirmation, logic as a psychologistic and probabilistic enterprise, knowledge of the external world as built on and subject to sensory-based evidence, and ethics in quasi-hedonist, possibly quantifiable terms. His philosophy is a constant review of other sources, a thorough consideration of the landscape into which his own empiricism fits and represents an alternative to contrasting claims, past and present. Other hallmarks of his thought include an atomist matter theory, explorations and defenses of the new physics, objections to the Meditations, and refutations of contemporary Aristotelians and mystical thinkers. His presentation of an empiricism, atomism, and new cosmology in historical and philosophical context greatly advanced the community of scholarship in his day, and represents a then-new model of research and exposition.

In his accounts of plant and animal generation Pierre Gassendi offers a mechanist story of how organisms create offspring to whom they pass on their traits. Development of the new organism is directed by a material “soul” or animula bearing ontogenetic information. Where reproduction is sexual, two sets of material semina and corresponding animulae meet and jointly determine the division, differentiation, and development of matter in the new organism. The determination of inherited traits requires a means of combining or choosing among each parent's contributions, and towards this end, Gassendi outlines the nature of competition and dominance among animulae. Unlike his fellow mechanists, Gassendi can extend his mechanism to his heredity account, because his proposed vehicle for ontogenetic transmission is material. That proposal in turn relies on his atomist hypothesis. The relative uniformity of atoms allows animulae to operate equivalently across different modes of generation, spontaneous or otherwise. Further, his molecular model of atomic structures allows a material means of storing ontogenetic information received from the souls of parent organisms. These accounts—flawed and sketchy—unsurprisingly fail to specify how hereditary information might be borne physically, and in any case do not meet Gassendi's own empiricist standards. Yet this generation theory with pretensions to a materialist mechanism establishes Gassendi's firm commitment to a unity of the sciences through an atomist ontology that underlies all physical phenomena, including the organic.

The philosophy of architecture illuminates the nature of architectural objects, properties, and types—and the sorts of things they are; how we know about and judge architectural objects; and ethical and political considerations of architectural objects and practice. As intersects with the philosophy of the city, one set of questions focuses on (a) how the design process for built structures, and structures designed, relate to specifically urban contexts; (b) how our experience of built structures relates to urban contexts; and (c) how urban contexts relate to their constituent built structures—temporally, process-wise, structurally, behaviorally, and so on. The task, in sum, is to identify what built structures and their urban environments contribute to one another. One promising thesis in this regard is compositionalism, that cities are composed of built structures, and dependent for their character on the character of those structures. A further set of philosophical questions, also at the nexus of matters architectural and urban, focus on such political and ethical issues as the nature of rights and obligations for architectural design in urban milieu and the rights of those who dwell in cities to architectural value, whether aesthetic or practical. Thus, architecture shapes the urban fabric, one piece at a time and—in the opposite direction—cities shape architecture through building code.

This look at Gassendi’s philosophy and science illuminates his contributions to early modern thought and to the broader history of philosophy of science. Two keys to his thought are his novel picture of acquiring and judging empirical belief, and his liberal account of criteria for counting empirical beliefs as parts of warranted physical theories. By viewing his philosophical and scientific pursuits as part of one and the same project, Gassendi’s arguments on behalf of atomism can be fruitfully explained as licensed by his empiricism.

Aucune méthode d'hypothèse et de raisonnement hypothétique en science ne peut être examinée dc façon critique sans que soit résolue au préalable la question de ce qui sert d'hypothèse. D'un point de vue très général, des éléments très différents peuvent servir à constituer la partie hypothétique ou conjecturale de la science. Du temps de Gassendi, il était possible de recourir à des entités hypothétiques tels les tourbillons cartésiens, à de généralisations idéalisées de phénomènes telle la loi de la chute libre, à des élaborations conjecturales comme l'image céleste de Ptolémée, à des modèles explicatifs et synthétiques comme la description par Harvey de la circulation sanguine ou à de modèles précurseurs comme celui de Kepler (orbites planétaires). Tous ces éléments de nature différente ont au moins un point commun : nous les acceptons comme tels avec la promesse de pouvoir justifier leur utilisation, plus tard, d'une façon ou d'une autre. La difficulté de cette acceptation préliminaire, selon une conception toute classique, réside dans le paradoxe qui consiste à profiter des avantages - de nature explicative, déductive ou illustrative, pour n'en citer que quelque-uns - offerts par l'emploi de tels éléments hypothétiques, même si nous manquons de preuves satisfaisantes à leur sujet, et cela pour approfondir notre compréhension de phénomènes pour lesquels nous disposons réellement de preuves.

If there is nothing more to architecture than design –and to its attendant thinking processes–than design thinking, then core dimensions of the architectural enterprise from the perspective of (a) production and (b) use have no special character, over and above their counterparts in general design. Yet that does not appear to be true by the lights of architects or design specialists or the public at large. So what is it, at the core or periphery of the discipline or its objects, that makes architecture not design? The ways in which architecture and design constitute artistic enterprises, drawing on and promoting aesthetic interest, differ such that architecture is not, or at least not only, a branch of or variation on design generally construed.

The premium on authenticity attributed to aesthetic appreciation and judgment of ruins is unnecessary, even while valuable for engagement with ruins as historical objects. I contrast values we assign to architectural ruins and to nongenuine, sham ruins. Ruins are components of built past architectural objects; sham ruins are components of fantasy, unbuilt architectural objects. Taking architectural objects as abstractions realized or realizable as built objects, ruins and sham ruins alike are built instances of corresponding abstract objects. Sham ruins do not offer different or fewer sorts of aesthetic value than do actual ruins; the authenticity premium is thereby eliminated.

LEGO tells about not just LEGO architecture but architecture generally: its objects, its aesthetic properties, and how people judge them. To illustrate how thinking about LEGO can help people with such matters, this chapter considers some scenarios. These scenarios illustrate two very different ways of thinking about architecture. On the one hand, people might think architectural objects (more commonly, "works of architecture"), like buildings, bridges, and aqueducts, have forms that stand on their own, and which thereby do not depend on historical, environmental, or any other contexts. On the other hand, they might think that architectural objects are best understood (maybe only understood) if they have one or more kinds of contextual information. From a different angle, some might see formalism as a better fit with original LEGO world design than with real‐world architectural design. Proponents of formalism take note of what makes architectural objects distinctive.

Surely amongst the most exciting and vindicating features of philosophy and criticism of art are the interactions that they have with the actual practices of art. The histories of art and current discussions about art are dotted with special moments in which philosophers or critics—from Ruskin through to Danto and beyond—become influenced, or were influenced by, the art of their times. More curious—and less common still—is the influence of philosophy of art on art criticism, or the other way around. The guidance or sway of one relative to the other is sporadic and not clearly or universally welcome. Identifying significant instances of such influence should prompt the re-examination of connections between the two endeavors, in historical and normative terms.Michalle Gal offers just such a prompt. Her study of the nineteenth century Aestheticism of Pater, Wilde, and Whistler takes that critical movement as precursor to another critical movement, the early formalism of Fry and Bell. In her recasting of this history of criticism, the two movements are joined by a philosophy which she terms ‘Deep Formalism’.

I sketch a version of the right to the city (RTTC) that is (a) feasible, (b) generic, and so (c) broadly amenable to many of its adherents. This right, I suggest, entails special sorts of responsibilities or obligations for architects and others tending to our built environment and the spaces—especially public space—so structured and defined. Along the way, I provide a brief account of some historical motivations for embracing the right to the city, as well as reasons for endorsing my generic account. Typical reasons for supporting a right to the city are grounded in traditional rights considerations: for one, benefits of urban life point to a positive right, along the lines of an entitlement; and for another, dangers and impediments to life—and quality of life—in the city point to a negative right, along the lines of freedoms from harm and liberties to voluntary engagements. How all this has a particularly urban focus and character, and how such a right or rights translate into specifically architectural responsibilities, depends at least in part on the sorts of things cities are and how they are constituted.

The proliferation of open technologies and content in higher education is motivated by broad embrace of a principle of sharing that is consonant with various contemporary economic, pedagogic and policy drivers.At the same time, open technologies and content present the possibility of a departure in the culture of humanities research and teaching.The open frameworks celebrate and facilitate collaborative and cooperative modes of working which are, to a degree, alien to a traditional ‘individualist’ conception of work in the Humanities. But such collectivity and collaboration yield new benefits to individual humanist scholars and so are not a source for concern

Generation and heredity theories before early modern mechanist accounts might be faulted for numerous deficits. One might cite in this regard the failure to even attempt to explain how the inheritance of traits could occur, given what is known about the generation of new individuals. On the other hand, it would be hard to allow this as a true failure against the backdrop of a generation theory that poses form, and not matter, as the key to understanding the emergence of new structures in the offspring of two organisms. Hence the signal contribution of the mechanist accounts in this sphere was simply the suggestion that theories of generation and heredity might look to matter and its behavior in order to explain how new individuals are created and retain or discard features of the individuals whence they sprung. Among these accounts, one early important set of views was presented by Pierre Gassendi, eventually as a full-blown atomist conjecture but even beforehand, and early on, as a thoroughgoing materialist theory. Gassendi's materialist mechanism for the transmission of traits is imperfect (and by the common sense of our day, implausible), not always or exclusively deployed in generation, and not clearly the physical bearer of information, as conformity to a materialist model would suggest. Nonetheless, his proposed mechanism represents a valuable attempt to provide an account of inheritance phenomena in materialist and ultimately atomist terms and rooted in an account of generation.

It is not infrequently heard in architectural circles that architecture is an inherently political enterprise and pursuit, such that build structures are, correspondingly, inherently political objects. But does architecture, by its nature as practice or artifact, universally serve political ends? Taking ends of something X to be political iff X serves the projection of power by state or government, or advances policy-making, ideologies, or the body politic, it may be thought that AP1. Architecture, in its products, always serves political ends. on the grounds that, roughly speaking, wherever one looks, one finds cases providing evidence that AP2. Buildings (built structures, generally) always serve political ends, and AP3. Buildings (built structures) are the only products of architecture. On the supposition that this fairly tracks the common view, I take for granted that the argument goes through if the premises are defensible. I propose, though, that neither AP2 nor AP3 are defensible, at least in the grand, universal fashion that they are offered.

A critical note on Paul Guyer’s A Philosopher Looks at Architecture (2021). In his book, Paul Guyer proposes that the Vitruvian triad of venustas, utilitas, and firmitas represents central goals and normative values of architecture – ideals that architects should realize and success criteria regarding their realization – that persist through time, place, cultural settings, and other contextual parameters. Indeed, the triad presents sufficiently abstract goals that many disparate views in architectural theory may be subsumed under the triad as distinctive ways of explaining how architecture may be beautiful, functional, or structurally sound. These are significant thematic values by which we experience and judge architecture (as are also useful in gauging other human pursuits), and which architects draw on in their creative acts. There is much to recommend this broad picture of the triad as architectural ideals. That said, I suggest two difficulties for Guyer’s claim as to the centrality of these values, relative to architectural success regardless of Vitruvian goal-satisfaction; and to non-persistence across architectural cultures.

Ethical issues of architecture arise relative to its processes of creation, its reception and use, and its maintenance and life cycle—all as a function of architecture’s aesthetic or artistic character and values, though not exclusively so. While autonomism and moralism in architecture are much debated, the focus is generally on architecture as art, to the neglect of architectural aesthetics beyond architecture as art. Moreover, as an artform deeply integrated with other, nonart pursuits and domains, architecture generates more complex ethical issues than do artforms that solely count as art. Harder ethical questions, then, include how—in light of such complexities—one may identify morally warranted conditions for architectural works and for gauging their propriety or relevant preferences and, as conceptually prior, what the nature is of moral agency, objects, actions, obligations, properties, virtues, and values in architecture.

As the premier early modern advocate of an Epicurean alternative to the prevailing neo-Scholastic framework of Aristotelianism, Pierre Gassendi promoted not only ancient but also innovative reasoning on behalf of atomism, probabilism, empiricism, psychological hedonism, social contractarianism, and a range of other stances associated with the philosophy of the Garden. Much commentary has focused on the extent to which Gassendi ‘baptizes’ Epicurean thought. Beyond this aspect of his Epicureanism are questions as to whether, and how, Gassendi is true to core Epicurean thinking, and what he preserves and promotes as valuable to philosophical and natural investigations of his time. Indeed, much subsequent modern philosophy builds on or reacts to an Epicurean legacy bequeathed by Gassendi, comprising his adjustments to, constraints on, or corrections of, the canonical views. Yet, for all his amendments, he retains as a primary philosophical motivation the Epicurean goal of striving for ataraxia. In this, he signals his firm commitment to philosophy in the tradition of the canonical Epicurean views. And, as with Epicurus’ own notion, his account of the centrality of attaining tranquility directs us to a better understanding of our nature and that of the world around us; amenable, in Gassendi’s framework, to Christian thought and contemporary natural philosophical investigations.

In his Logic, Pierre Gassendi proposes that our inductive inferences lack the information we would need to be certain of the claims that they suggest. Not even deductivist inference can insure certainty about empirical claims because the experientially attained premises with which we adduce support for such claims are no greater than probable. While something is surely amiss in calling deductivist inference "probabilistic," it seems Gassendi has hit upon a now-familiar, sensible point—namely, the use of deductive reasoning in empirical contexts, while providing certain formal guarantees, does not insulate empirical arguments from judgment by the measure of belief which we invest in their premises. The more general point, which distinguishes Gassendi among his contemporaries, is that the strength shared by all empirical claims consists in the warrant from experience for those claims we introduce in their support.

Architecture is apparently unlike the other plastic arts in that we tend to attribute to it, nearly universally, a social nature. But what, if anything, makes architecture intrinsically ‘social’? There are two leading candidate reasons that architecture is considered as a social art: (S1) the aim of architecture, as determined or realized by architects’ underlying intentions, is to design shelter—a social need, and (S2) the practice of architecture requires interpersonal relations of a social nature; hence as an art form it is inherently a social process or activity.

In this account of the philosophical and scientific pursuits of Pierre Gassendi , I challenge a traditional view which says that the inspiration, motivation, and demonstrative grounds for his physical atomism consist not in his empiricism but in his historicist commitments. Indeed, Gassendi suggests that it's a consequence of our best theory of knowledge and sound scientific method that we get evidence which warrants his microphysical theory. ;The primary novelty of his theory of empirical knowledge is his proposal, against the Stoics and Descartes, that it is not a necessary condition of our knowing some claim that we are certain of it. This move immediately broadens the scope of what we can know through the senses, as does his suggestion that we include among such knowledge claims those assertions about what is hidden to the senses which we legitimately infer from the evidence of the perceptually given. ;On the basis of these epistemological positions, Gassendi develops his views on scientific method according to which we attain and justify our best empirical claims by deduction yet, he believes, these claims are at root probabilistic, and we may maintain hypotheses as the basis of our scientific reasoning so long as there is some empirical evidence for them, however broadly construed. ;Hence Gassendi suggests that his atomism constitutes a 'most likely hypothesis' for which we have empirical evidence--which of necessity is found indirectly in 'indicative' signs, those surface level phenomena for which he takes the existence of atoms to be a sine qua non condition. Perhaps the paramount case of such evidence consists in those microscopic observations of crystalline formation and dissolution that he takes to demonstrate the molecular structure of matter--a key and innovative consequence of his atomism. ;The robust character of Gassendi's method emerges in his appeals to indirect evidence for claims about the unobservable and his willingness to count this as adequate empirical grounds for maintaining an atomist hypothesis. Remarkably, he stands at the dawn of the modern era with at least a proposal as to how to resolve one of empiricism's more vexing difficulties, still with us in some form today