It would be hard to confuse Daniel Dennett for anyone other than a philosopher. With his voluminous white beard, imposing frame, and jolly demeanour, he cuts a distinctive figure in the sleek restaurant atop London’s National Portrait Gallery. It is a hazy, sunny day as we gaze out across the rooftops. The Union Flag hangs limply over the Houses of Parliament.
As a thought experiment (so beloved of philosophers), I try to picture Dennett in a tunic and sandals orating in the Athenian agora a couple of millennia ago. Yup, that one works. As it is, our modern-day philosopher is dressed in a button-down blue shirt and a grey herringbone jacket and is carrying a splendid walking stick.
With the enthusiasm of a born storyteller, Dennett recounts how he found the stick while tramping through the woods on Outer Long Island, Maine, in 2006 and has been using it ever since. He has inscribed it with the names of the places he has visited, including Costa Rica, the Mekong Delta, and Kalaallit Nunaat (Greenland). “I’m a little tottery on my legs, ” the 74-year-old says. “This was invaluable on the tundra.”