by Isaiah Berlin (1953)
Reading time: 3 minutes
From the Jacket: Since its first publication in 1953 Sir Isaiah’s long essay has acquired the status of a small masterpiece. The Hedgehog and the Fox is a triumph of erudition and a superb entryway into an understanding of Tolstoy’s work.
This book has been quoted or referenced in at least a dozen books that I’ve read, but as far as I can remember they all reference the eponymous dichotomy described in the opening two and a half pages. The origin is a fragment from Greek poet Archilochus: “The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.”
Without the original work of Archilochus, we don’t know what he intended the parable to mean; Berlin describes the concept as a sometimes-useful analogy that shouldn’t be overused. Instead, everyone from Erasmus to Nate Silver has picked a side (hedgehog and fox, respectively) and proceeded to explain why that approach to [life, knowledge, business, forecasting….] will yield better results.
Berlin spends the remainder of the essay exploring the tension of a man, Lev Tolstoy, who knows he is a fox but wishes he were a hedgehog. Tolstoy greatest desire was a unifying theory of history to explain how everything we experience is tied together. Throughout his life his perceptions were dominated by a sense that history is made up of an infinitude of small acts by normal people; that the small acts are inevitable rather than the product of free will; that history is therefore inevitable; that some force causes the small acts and thereby history. He saw order through his peripheral vision – but order turned to chaos whenever he turned his keen eye to the spot.
Tolstoy’s genius for analysis and criticism was such that no theory could survive his scrutiny; the theories were always inconsistent or failed to have a concrete mechanism through which the vaguely appealed-to “forces of history” act. Tolstoy developed a contempt for overly scientific, reductionist explanations. As Berlin says, “[Tolstoy] has no fear of questioning anything, and believes that some simple answer must exist – if only we did not insist on tormenting ourselves with searching for it in strange and remote places, when it lies all the time at our feet.” This torment was at the heart of Tolstoy’s character. He never found his one big idea, only the unsatisfying proxy of folk wisdom.
Berlin’s essay is essentially tragic. It is also a great read in the classic mid-century erudite style. It is thought-provoking, complex, and highly readable.
Recommendation: Read it if… your interests include history, literature, or epistemology