Dissertation acknowledgements

My dissertation has been deposited with the Graduate Center library. It is over.

The odds are good that the only people who will ever read the dissertation have already read it. I'm fine with that. Still, it means that the acknowledgements that I've written are likely to go entirely unnoticed unless I call attention to them. So here they are in full:

What follows is a dissertation about the philosophy of biology. My thesis is, simply, that one view of species in biology implies another. Some readers may look for a broader meaning to this enterprise. While I do not endorse any conclusion other than those explicitly presented here, I might suggest that the reader in search of an optimistic “moral” focus on the importance that cooperation plays in my account. Certainly, my dissertation itself would not have been possible without the cooperative efforts of a good number of people. It is my sincere pleasure and deep honor to acknowledge them.

For his advice, encouragement, respect, and unflagging support, my advisor Massimo Pigliucci deserves all the thanks of which I am capable. I offer him those thanks now. Our first meeting in February 2010 marked the single most important turning point in my career, and I now look forward to a future in which I can proudly call him a colleague as well as a friend. I fear that no words of praise could ever be sufficient, and so I will let these stand: he has provided a model towards which I happily aspire.

I am further indebted to the members of my committee. Michael Bell, of Stony Brook University, has been generous with his time, insightful with his comments, and gracious in his willingness to engage colleagues across disciplinary boundaries. The academy as a whole benefits from his approach to interdisciplinary cooperation. The help that I have received from Jesse Prinz has been no less valuable, and his enthusiasm for this project—and for philosophy generally—remains an inspiration. His selflessness in dealing with students does credit to our profession, and I hope that Graduate Center students may benefit from that selflessness for many years to come.

My readers also deserve thanks. This project has been bookended by insightful and challenging commentary from Alberto Cordero, who served as a reader for both the prospectus and the dissertation, and I am grateful for his contributions. It was my good fortune that Marc Ereshefsky, of the University of Calgary, visited the Graduate Center as I finished my dissertation: his knowledge of and influence in the philosophy of biology are matched only by his kindness towards colleagues. His questions and positive feedback have given me an excellent starting point for the next phase of my career.

There are several other members of the faculty without whom I could not have produced this work. Peter Simpson provided encouragement through the early development of ideas that would form the basis of this dissertation. He also gave me my first teaching job, at the College of Staten Island, which remains among the most instructive of my experiences. Michael Devitt also helped in those early stages, and his calls for conceptual clarity served as a guide throughout. Peter Godfrey-Smith contributed a great deal of his time and a number of useful comments. His insight into the content of my work and advice on writing style are directly responsible for the overall shape of the final product. Niles Eldredge of the American Museum of Natural History also offered important assistance. I offer each of these individuals my thanks and my sincere hope to continue working together in the future.

The many conversations that I’ve had with my classmates have informed my professional development and enriched my personal life with friendship. I’d therefore like to extend my thanks to Ben Ableson, Yuval Abrams, Amber Alliger, Paul Cummins, Damien Dupont, Amanda Favia, Keota Fields, Helen French, Tommy Kivatinos, Manolo Martinez, Katherine Mendis, David Pereplyotchik, Kamili Posey, Cosim Sayid, Henry Shevlin, Derek Skillings, and Rosemary Twomey. I owe special thanks to Jason Altilio, who is the kindest man I know despite suffering the endless pain of rooting with me for the New York Mets; to Steven Birnbaum, who I am becoming more and more convinced must be a long-lost member of my family; to Amanda Bryant, whose only fault is having lived so much of her life so very far away from my places of residence; and to Jonah Goldwater, who may be my better in wit and wisdom but will have to settle for being my equal in vocal depth.

I am similarly indebted to my friends outside of the Graduate Center. For their helping me to keep a proper perspective on the balance of work and play, I thank George Averkiou, Jaryd and Justin Honovich, and Marco Trauzzi. Since starting graduate school, I have done my best to maintain weekly lunch and/or coffee appointments with Geoff Bauer and Nicholas Liu (individually), and I thank them for those fond memories and valuable calories. Through the same period, Katherine Bowman-Scott and I have shared a number of the same frustrations and triumphs—often at the same times—in our respective graduate programs; I thank her for reminding me of the fundamentally important fact that none of us is ever truly alone.

My greatest debt is undoubtedly owed to my family, for support in every conceivable way that a person may be supported. All that is good in my life is ultimately owed to my grandparents, Santa and Salvatore D’Arrigo; to my sister, Tina Finkelman-Berkett, her husband, Bryan Berkett, and their son (also my godson), Jack Berkett; especially to my parents, Phyllis and Neal Finkelman. My efforts always have been, and always will be, performed on their behalf, so that the good fortune they have given me may eventually be repaid.

It's pretty simple, really

Please consider the following exchange and ask yourself if it seems reasonable.

"Would you like some of this chicken Marsala?"
"No, thank you. I don't eat mushrooms."
"Really? No mushrooms at all? What about shiitakes?"
"No. They're mushrooms."
"Would you eat morels?"
"No, because they're mushrooms."
"How about porcinis?"
"No."
"If someone served you portabellos, would you eat them?"
"No."
"I only ask because I know people who don't eat mushrooms, but they'll eat portabellos."

Chances are that you would think the questioner in this exchange to be rather unreasonable, if not maladaptively stupid, because (s)he has essentially asked the same question four times in a row and seems to have expected the answer to change. No one who knows what a mushroom is would ever feel the need to pursue this line of questioning beyond the initial exchange.

Why, then, am I so often forced to endure the same line of questioning for animals? If I'm a vegetarian, why should I have to individually justify my preferences against chicken, flounder, lobster, escargot, and frog?

A surprising number of relatively intelligent people seem confused by my food choices. I will make this as simple as any human being can make it: I am a vegetarian. I do not choose to eat any animal flesh. I will eat almost anything else. I do not maintain some secret, semi-fluid list of exceptions to these rules.

If I were to eat any sort of animal flesh, I would not be a vegetarian. This includes fish. Fish are animals.

If I were to choose not to eat other animal products--e.g., milk, eggs, etc.--in addition to animal flesh, I would be a vegetarian, but I would not identify myself as a vegetarian. I would identify myself as a vegan. "Vegan" is a word different from "vegetarian" because it denotes a different sort of thing.

If other people use the words "vegetarian" and "vegan" differently, then they are wrong. Ignore them.

Thank you.