Tue 27 Nov 2007
Sad news from Nate Foster ‘01.

Former Williams professor (and close personal friend of Morty) Peter Lipton died suddenly over the weekend. Peter was a full professor at Cambridge and head of the Department of History and Philosophy of Science. In recent years, he has advised many Herchel Smiths including yours truly. He was one of the best, kindest advisors I ever had.
Indeed. As a philosophy major, I had several classes with Professor Lipton, who taught at Williams from 1985-1990. Each was excellent. Lipton was superb in the art and science of running a Williams classroom. He always had an interesting story about the philosophers we were discussing. He seemed to have read a biography about everyone from Hume to Wittgenstein.
Peter Lipton made me want to be a philosophy professor at Williams, someone who would know all that there was to know about philosophy and spend his life discussing the big questions with Williams students. His classes were my first exposure to the idea of students as teachers. He had us write “reaction papers” to each other’s essays. I have shamelessly stolen the idea ever since.
Lipton was also one of the outside readers for my thesis. It was just 20 years ago this coming May that I nervously presented my big idea in Griffin 3. Lipton listened kindly to my bumbling and then began his comments. Like any good discussant, he started with a summary of what I wrote, or at least what I should have meant if I were thinking clearly and interpreted charitably. In just a paragraph of lucid prose, he summarized perfectly, in words that I never would have found, the point that I was trying to get across. I wanted to stop everything and say, “Yes! That is exactly what I meant!” Lipton’s insight and kindness have stayed with me ever since. Another of his students knows exactly what I mean.
He did this thing I only half-jokingly coined a verb for — to Lipton, I have told people, is to listen to the most garbled, incoherent, muddle-headed drivel that periodically emits from a student or otherwise member of an audience, and to restate it back at them in the most crystal clear terms, so that whatever point hidden in its murky depths is rescued & borne out of the swamps of obfuscation to receive enlightenment from high … seriously. Liptoning also involves clarifying complexity with enviable panache, but always without an iota of hubris — always that incredible modesty and respect for what one does not know — in short, to be an ideal teacher and thinker. What a gift!
A gift that is now lost to all of us. The obituary notes:
Lipton was an extraordinarily gifted teacher. His lecture courses on philosophy of science and philosophy of mind attracted big crowds of students and were marked by the most unusual clarity, critical acumen and his wonderful - and justifiably world-renowned - sense of humour. One year the second-year students so wished to show their appreciation for his performance that in the last lecture of the year they showered him with flowers. Many a student was drawn into philosophy through these lectures. Lipton’s seminars and reading groups were similarly legendary. His ‘Epistemology Reading Group’ - modelled on A. J. Ayer’s Oxford discussion circle that he had attended - was the philosophical centre of gravity in the Department. Lipton supervised numerous students at all levels; he was always working with between six and ten PhD students.
Academia is one of the great apprentice fields, a workplace in which, despite the endless libraries, there are no books to teach you what you really need to know. The only way to learn to be a scholar and a teacher is to find a master to guide you, to show you how it is done. Lipton was just such a master. See how Professor Joe Cruz ‘91, another of Lipton’s students, keeps alive his teachings for Williams students yet to come.
In another decade or two or three, it is not clear how many people will read the no-doubt-excellent books that Peter Lipton wrote. The shelf life of scholarly monographs is short, their readers few, their impact small and fleeting. But Peter Lipton’s memory will live on with the students he taught over the last 20 years until they too pass on to the great tutorial in the sky. When that day comes for me, I know that Professor Lipton will be waiting, a patient and understanding philosopher with time for his eager students.
Condolences to all.

November 27th, 2007 at 6:30 pm
My deepest regrets. I was never taught by him personally but he was legendary in our department and it is a huge loss for us. Your comments on his character match up well with what another of his students wrote about him. She calls it Liptoning! http://idlethink.wordpress.com/2007/11/26/pulvis-et-umbra-sumus/
November 27th, 2007 at 7:10 pm
My special condolences to his students. May his light shine on through them.
November 27th, 2007 at 8:30 pm
David: Since you seem to be claiming personal knowledge - what is the answer to the Big Question? Damned if I can find it anywhere!
November 27th, 2007 at 10:50 pm
I look at the photo of this man and I think of my family…and how I simply must appreciate every single moment I have with them.
My thoughts and prayers are with all who knew and loved him..
November 28th, 2007 at 6:52 am
He was my dissertation supervisor this year. It’s all terribly sad. But it’s nice to see tributes like this one appearing.
November 28th, 2007 at 8:24 am
I edited this after the initial version to incorporate the link provided by Chloe. Thanks for pointing it out.
November 28th, 2007 at 6:27 pm
What natural causes could have arrested this young man’s life? To have expired at such an early age, there must of been some congenital disorder that arrersted this bright light and Dean to a number of PhD candidates.
November 28th, 2007 at 10:52 pm
What terrible and sad news. I dare say Professor Lipton’s “Anatomy of Scientific Inquiry” was the most exciting and challenging course I took in my four years at Williams. What an amazing and gifted teacher (as someone who has been a teacher himself for 19 years, I look back in awe at what he could do in a classroom). I have such powerful memories of grappling with grue/bleen, of wrestling with the “problems” of induction, of arguing about the demarcation criterion; of doing my best to sythesize the reading in a precis I knew would be dissected with the utmost care.
My wife (Cecilia Malm ‘88) took several courses with Professor Lipton. It was the beauty and rigor of his classes that convinced her to become a philosophy major.
He affected so many people through his teaching. What a loss. My heart goes out to his family.
November 30th, 2007 at 5:59 pm
Thanks for this wonderful post, David. I did not know Professor Lipton but your post really translates the personal experience of what it was like to know him. I appreciate his essay that Prof. Cuz links, as well… I should read his other work too.
December 1st, 2007 at 11:38 am
I never took a class with Peter, but I was the nanny for his son (while Diana was pregnant with their second son–together I took care of their child and the Schapiro’s son). He was a man of dignity, kindness, humor and insight. My thoughts go out to Diana and his boys.