Abstract

Three sessions have just ended and I find myself standing on the beautiful terrace of Villa Lanna, the venue operated by the Academy of Science. The Institute of Philosophy and the Academy of Science are graciously hosting the conference on Philosophy and Social Sciences once again. Standing on the flagstone terrace, on either side of me, in several different languages, I hear scholars arguing about the papers that they have just heard while they gratefully soak up the sun and drink the strong-brewed, jet-lag-banishing coffee kindly brewed by the staff of the Villa Lanna. These social interactions on the terrace are one of my fondest memories of the Prague conference, listening to people talking and arguing, meeting and greeting each other reminds me that thinking does not happen when one is alone but is deeply social and requires community. The Prague conference is important because it is a space that creates a spirit of philosophical community. I have attended this conference many times in the last 25 years and deeply appreciate the community that it creates.
Bringing together scholars from around the globe ensures that there is a multiplicity of perspectives but even more, the intimate scale of the conference, the open spaces of the reception room and the beautiful outdoor terrace encourage conversation about papers and arguments after sessions end and before later sessions begin. The special openness of the Prague conference has drawn me and draws others to present their work there. I have found the best and most helpful audiences here. My work on the genesis of the self appeals to a wide range of empirical literature and infant development theories as well as the central texts of critical theory, but it does not easily fit into a single intellectual category or tradition; it is not postmodern, nor does it at first glance take up any of the more obvious threads of critical theory. Mine is a hybrid strategy and at other conferences my work has sometime been met with blank incomprehension. But in Prague, I have found that scholars have a sense that the conference is a space for moving critical theory in new directions and not just for retravelling old roads. Perhaps this openness is due to the curiosity and respectfulness that are encouraged by the small sessions as well as by the broad mix of international scholars who are only loosely linked by their interest in critical theory. Perhaps, too, the earlier embodiments of the Prague conference as a space for dissident East Europeans and western critical theorists have left a legacy that encourages openness and thoughtfulness. Whatever its roots, the conference encourages scholars to interact with one another, the lively question-and- answer sessions and the chatting on the terrace and in the large living room create the possibility for doing just that. Two years ago when I presented a paper a number of people commented on it and Charles Taylor stayed after the session to ask some probing questions. His questions and criticisms and those of the other younger scholars in attendance were not just gratifying, they were a useful springboard for rewriting the paper for publication. Conversations with Axel Honneth, Amy Allen, Lenny Moss, María Pía Lara, Max Pensky and so many others have been equally fruitful. Thinking, as Hannah Arendt reminds us, is a form of praxis, something we begin in the company of others. The conference for Philosophy and Social Sciences meeting in Prague at the beautiful Villa Lanna of the Czech Academy of Science has been an exhilarating and important space where scholars working in the critical theory tradition can engage in the praxis of thinking. I am grateful to have so frequently been part of that community.
