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Killing Time: The Autobiography of Paul Feyerabend

by Paul Karl Feyerabend

4.23 of 5 stars 4.23 · rating details · 130 ratings · 16 reviews

Killing Time is the story of Paul Feyerabend's life. Finished only weeks before his death in 1994, it is the self-portrait of one of this century's most original and influential intellectuals.

Trained in physics and astronomy, Feyerabend was best known as a philosopher of science. But he emphatically was not a builder of theories or a writer of rules. Rather, his fame was i Killing Time is the story of Paul Feyerabend's life. Finished only weeks before his death in 1994, it is the self-portrait of one of this century's most original and influential intellectuals.

Trained in physics and astronomy, Feyerabend was best known as a philosopher of science. But he emphatically was not a builder of theories or a writer of rules. Rather, his fame was in powerful, plain-spoken critiques of "big" science and "big" philosophy. Feyerabend gave voice to a radically democratic "epistemological anarchism:" he argued forcefully that there is not one way to knowledge, but many principled paths; not one truth or one rationality but different, competing pictures of the workings of the world. "Anything goes," he said about the ways of science in his most famous book, Against Method. And he meant it.

Here, for the first time, Feyerabend traces the trajectory that led him from an isolated, lower-middle-class childhood in Vienna to the height of international academic success. He writes of his experience in the German army on the Russian front, where three bullets left him crippled, impotent, and in lifelong pain. He recalls his promising talent as an operatic tenor (a lifelong passion), his encounters with everyone from Martin Buber to Bertolt Brecht, innumerable love affairs, four marriages, and a career so rich he once held tenured positions at four universities at the same time.

Although not written as an intellectual autobiography, Killing Time sketches the people, ideas, and conflicts of sixty years. Feyerabend writes frankly of complicated relationships with his mentor Karl Popper and his friend and frequent opponent Imre Lakatos, and his reactions to a growing reputation as the "worst enemy of science." ...more

Paperback , 203 pages

Published November 15th 1996 by University Of Chicago Press (first published May 15th 1995)

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Jan 31, 2012 zoot rated it 5 of 5 stars

I'm not usually interested in autobiographies, not because I dislike them, really, but because I don't have the time for them: there are lots of other things I find more interesting that I want to read about instead. However, Feyerabend is one of my idols - his attitude to philosophy, and life in general, resonates very deeply with me. He's had far more influence on me than any other philosopher. "Against Method" is pretty much the best book of all time, in my opinion.

If you're considering check I'm not usually interested in autobiographies, not because I dislike them, really, but because I don't have the time for them: there are lots of other things I find more interesting that I want to read about instead. However, Feyerabend is one of my idols - his attitude to philosophy, and life in general, resonates very deeply with me. He's had far more influence on me than any other philosopher. "Against Method" is pretty much the best book of all time, in my opinion.

If you're considering checking this out, you probably already know what sort of thing to expect. This is a brilliant book, fairly fast-paced, and Feyerabend is as passionate, witty, and iconoclastic as ever - and it certainly seemed very honest, although given that Feyerabend was writing from memory, having discarded letters, family albums, etc over his life and having never kept diaries, honesty is no guarantee of accuracy.

Those who consider Feyerabend to be "antiscience" may be surprised by his extensive background in, and obvious love for, astronomy and physics (in fact, in many of his writings, Feyerabend often strikes me as far more hostile to philosophy than to science). That said, I doubt such people have ever bothered to actually read anything by Feyerabend, and they probably have no desire to do so.

If you like Feyerabend, or you're just really into autobiographies for some reason, this is well worth a read. I loved it. Bear in mind, this is entirely an autobiography, and although he talks about philosophy plenty of times and gives some rather amusing responses to critics of AM, don't expect any significant arguments or essays.

Also, this book is the source of one of my favourite quotes: "People, intellectuals especially, seem unable to be content with a little more freedom, a little more happiness, a little more light. Perceiving a small advantage, they seize it, circumscribe it, nail it down, and in this way prepare a New Age of ignorance, darkness and slavery." ...more

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Jan 01, 2008 Joshu rated it 5 of 5 stars

Recommends it for: people interested in philosophy and science

feyerabend was an iconoclastic philosopher and this memoir really cuts to the heart of a lot of interesting philosophical conundrums via the story of his life.

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Feb 01, 2011 Philippe rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: biography , philosophy

This is a slim volume, barely 200 pages, but it charts an awesome spiritual odyssee. Paul Feyerabend - enfant terrible of late 20th century philosophy - looked ruthlessly in the mirror and painted an unadorned picture of himself. At the end of his life, he painfully recognised that its course had been shaped by absences, rather than by specific events or, for that matter, ideas: absence of purpose, of content, of a focused interest, absence of moral character, absence of warmth and of social rel This is a slim volume, barely 200 pages, but it charts an awesome spiritual odyssee. Paul Feyerabend - enfant terrible of late 20th century philosophy - looked ruthlessly in the mirror and painted an unadorned picture of himself. At the end of his life, he painfully recognised that its course had been shaped by absences, rather than by specific events or, for that matter, ideas: absence of purpose, of content, of a focused interest, absence of moral character, absence of warmth and of social relationships.

Only when Feyerabend approached the final fifteen years of his life and settled as a professor in the philosophy of science in Zürich - after having lectured four decades at Anglo-American universities - he started to relax. And eventually, a woman came and set things right. In 1983 he met the Italian physicist Grazia Borrini for the first time. Five years later they married. His relationship with Mrs. Borrini must have been the single most important event in Feyerabend's life. Reading his autobiography is an experience akin to listening to Sibelius' tone-poem 'Nightride and Sunrise': after 1983 the colours change dramatically and his prose is infused with warmth and immense gratefulness. It is a delight to read his rapt eulogies on the companion of the last decade of his life, on his most fortunate discovery of true love and friendship. Indeed, although Feyerabend is not interested in 'spoiling' his autobiography with an extensive reiteration of his philosophical positions, there are a few messages he clearly wants to drive home. The central role in life of love and friendship is one of them. Without these "even the noblest achievements and the most fundamental principles remain pale, empty and dangerous" (p. 173). Yet, Feyerabend clearly wants us to see that this love "is a gift, not an achievement" (p. 173). It is something which is subjected neither to the intellect, nor to the will, but is the result of a fortunate constellation of circumstances.

The same applies to the acquisition of 'moral character'. This too "cannot be created by argument, 'education' or an act of will." (p.174). Yet, it is only in the context of a moral character - something which Feyerabend confesses to having only acquired a trace of after a long life and the good fortune of having met Grazia - that ethical categories such as guilt, responsibility and obligation acquire a meaning. "They are empty words, even obstacles, when it is lacking." (p.174) (Consequently, he did not think himself responsible for his behavior during the Nazi period).

Contrary to someone like Karl Kraus, Feyerabend seems to think that men, at least as long as they have not acquired moral character, are morally neutral, whilst ideas are not. A question which remains, of course, is who is to be held responsible for intellectual aberrations and intentional obfuscation if this character is only to be acquired by an act of grace, an accidental constellation of circumstances.

There is an enigmatic passage in the autobiography which may shed light on this important problem. After having seen a performance of Shakespeare's Richard II, in which the protagonist undoes himself of all his royal insigna, thereby relinquishing not just "a social role but his very individuality, those features of his character that separated him from other", Feyerabend notes that the "dark, unwieldy, clumsy, helpless creature that appeared seemed freer and safer, despite prison and death, than what he had left behind." (p. 172) It prompts him to the insight that "the sum of our works and/or deeds does not constitute a life. These . . . are like debris on an ocean . . . They may even form a solid platform, thus creating an illusion of universality, security, and permanence. Yet the security and the permanence can be swept away by the powers that permitted them to arise." (p. 172) These ideas do not exactly solve the question about moral responsibility, but they do suggest a tragic 'Lebensgefühl' - an acknowledgment of the fact that the spheres of reason, order and justice are terribly limited and that no progress in our science and technical resources will change their relevance - which seems to underpin Feyerabends very earthbound philosophy. ...more

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Sep 12, 2011 Mike rated it 3 of 5 stars

There are a lot of books with the same title as this, but it's doubtful that many of them are as funny or crazy as this author. Part opera buff, part philosophical buffoon (but in the best sense of buffoon: a Diogenes of the 20th Century), Feyerabend is all over the place, not only in his ideas but in his academic career and personal life. I first read this about 15 years ago for a school project and stumbled across it this past week at the Strand. Thumbing through it, I forgot how funny Feyerab ...more

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Mar 23, 2014 mpacer rated it 5 of 5 stars

I wouldn't care about his book if I hadn't already really liked Feyerabend's work more generally (and even more so his influence on others, notably Ian Hacking). However, having now read it, I am very happy I did so. I still would have difficulty recommending it without knowing that someone was already interested in Feyerabend, simply because I think it's diffuse enough in its points and sloppy enough in its editing (characters are often mentioned without having yet being introduced… this is esp ...more

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Jul 13, 2007 Jim Coughenour rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: memoir

My favorite anti-philosopher, the archetypal skeptic of the 20th century. His autobiography is a lark, chock full of intellectual passion and high spirits.

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Apr 27, 2013 Ananya rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: owned-books

Anything goes in this brilliant autobiography that reads like a novel.

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Nov 21, 2012 Otto Lehto rated it 3 of 5 stars

A charmingly anecdotal, if somewhat scattered, autobiography of the great philosopher of science whose name has become synonymous with a dangerous anarchic attack on objective standards. (Just the kind I like.)

The best parts are the stories of Second World War, and reflections on his career after writing "Against Method."

The book ends with the author's death, which might explain some of the lack of "finesse" in its structure; the book would have benefited from re-editing and re-writing had the A charmingly anecdotal, if somewhat scattered, autobiography of the great philosopher of science whose name has become synonymous with a dangerous anarchic attack on objective standards. (Just the kind I like.)

The best parts are the stories of Second World War, and reflections on his career after writing "Against Method."

The book ends with the author's death, which might explain some of the lack of "finesse" in its structure; the book would have benefited from re-editing and re-writing had the author lived on another year.

But even then, the stories, perspectives and anecdotes, haphazardly gathered as they are (covering all-too-summarily a long life and career in philosophy, war, love and the arts), are fascinating and diverse enough to make up for the book's lack of structural cohesion. It's not a great book, nor is it greatly written, strangely enough. But it contains little beautiful gems that make up for its rough spots. And, if we want to be generous, the lack of cohesion fits nicely with the author's stated view that no one single perspective or unified narrative can capture the complexity of life, truth, objectivity. In that sense it's a nicely fittingly anarchic book about a proudly, principally anarchic man.

The book, then, feels sometimes like a book-long diary entry, a series of illuminating vignettes rather than one overarching story. The narrative, at the same time, is strangely disassociated, even "cold." Where is the author? Sometimes his life seems like a series of people, dates and places. But it picks up pace towards the end and even approaches human warmth when the discussion turns to Feyerabend's last marriage and the deeper purposes of life. It is in its descriptions of life of a man of great intellect in war and in the grips of disease, that the book soars.

As for substance, some of the tropes a bit obvious - like the decades-old and still-continuing downplaying, that is both mean-spirited and pointless, of Popper's influence on his own thinking (WHAT went wrong there to cause such a bitter rift?), or his equally childish disdain for Derrida - but on the whole, Feyerabend comes off as a humble and complex figure who doesn't take himself too seriously.

(PS. But why the hatred of Popper and Derrida? Apparently anybody who comes too close to his own territory - Popper, Derrida - is a dangerous rival who must be opposed, either for self-protection, or perhaps because he externalizes his guilt over his own views onto "those OTHER fellow travellers"? Perhaps he wants to be the King of the Hill? Or perhaps he genuinely feels concerned that the small differences DO matter (Popper on substance, Derrida on style) and need to be addressed by "an insider", someone who STANDS in a POSITION to CORRECT dangerous RADICALISM - that isn't his own, that conflicts with his own? Whatever the reason, it's a shame these issues aren't explored self-critically in his autobiography. Again, I wish he had had more time to finish the book.... What wonders deeper reflection would have brought. Or perhaps he would never have been able to do it. It's a shame, in a way. We all have our blind spots. But it's a real weakness in autobiography to leave them unchecked.)

All criticism aside, I recommend this book to anyone interested in a) philosophy, b) intellectual life of the 20th century, c) autobiographies. It's a short book and easy to read: a good investment for the time it takes to finish. It delights, puzzles and humours. It leaves a mark. Just like the man. A fun read and a fun man. R.I.P. ...more

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Mar 04, 2015 Raisi rated it 5 of 5 stars

Lo leí en español.
Me encanta la filosofía de Feyerabend, me parece una persona excéntrica, apasionada y sin pelos en la lengua.
No pude no llorar con el final.

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Dec 30, 2014 Patrick rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

After being promised some sort of narrative detailing the change “from a debating machine into the semblance of a human being,” what’s given instead is a biography strangely in the manner of the early Wittgenstein: a presentation of facts with little in the way of reflection or even emotional context. Feyerabend’s philosophical work is of the most important of the twentieth century, but apart from anecdotes about breaking from the Popper cult and the reception of Against Method , there’s little h ...more

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Feb 16, 2015 Maiken rated it 1 of 5 stars

Killing me... I was really surprised by the lack of in-depth reflection by Feyerabend on his life. Too much information that I did not know what to think about, because it was just facts without perspective. Perhaps reflecting deeply on personal matters just wasnt his strength - on the contrary, impersonally and philosophically he did quite well. Disappointing read, I was bored. ...more

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Jun 28, 2013 Ocram G-Dawg rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Ein Buch über ein bewegendes Leben, das weiterbewegt, Anstöße birgt, und in oft mit seiner humorvollen Selbstbetrachtung zu entwaffnen weiß.
Erstaunlicherweise das erste Buch seit langem, das mich zu Tränen rühren konnte.

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Nov 22, 2012 Mahmoud added it · review of another edition

Paul Karl Feyerabend

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Mar 10, 2012 Steve Curati rated it 5 of 5 stars

I'm not a fan of autobiographies usually, but this is one of the most charming, brilliant books I've read.

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May 29, 2015 Bastian Greshake rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: to-read-but-only-on-paper

The more I read by/about Feyerabend, the larger my crush grows…

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Oct 25, 2011 Victor Zatsepin rated it 5 of 5 stars

magical stuff!

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About Paul Karl Feyerabend

Paul Karl Feyerabend was an Austrian-born philosopher of science best known for his work as a professor of philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley, where he worked for three decades (1958–1989).

His life was a peripatetic one, as he lived at various times in England, the United States, New Zealand, Italy, Germany, and finally Switzerland. His major works include Against Method (publis ...more

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Against Method: Outline of an Anarchistic Theory of Knowledge

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“Somewhere among the commotion I grew rather depressed. The depression stayed with me for over a year; it was like an animal, a well-defined, spatially localizable thing. I would wake up, open my eyes, listen-is it here or isn’t it? No sign of it. Perhaps it’s asleep. Perhaps it will leave me alone today. Carefully, very carefully, I get out of bed. All is quiet. I go to the kitchen, start breakfast. Not a sound. TV-Good Morning America, David what’s-his-name, a guy I can’t stand. I eat and watch the guests. Slowly the food fills my stomach and gives me strength. Now a quick excursion to the bathroom, and out for my morning walk-and here she is, my faithful depression: “Did you think you could leave without me?" I had often warned my students not to identify with their work. I told them, “if you want to achieve something, if you want to write a book, paint a picture, be sure that the center of your existence if somewhere else and that it’s solidly grounded; only then will you be able to keep your cool and laugh at the attacks that are bound to come." I myself had followed this advice in the past, but now I was alone, sick with some unknown affliction; my private life was in a mess, and I was without a defense. I often wished I had never written that fucking book.” — 8 likes

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