Baseball and Philosophy: Thinking Outside the Batter’s Box

Dire Straits ' "Industrial Disease"

Bertrand Russell

Baseball and Philosophy is the sixth volume in the Popular Culture and Philosophy Series published by Open Court. For those unfamiliar with the series, they are books that attempt to educate the layman and student about philosophy by using examples from contemporary entertainment. I really enjoyed the first two volumes: Seinfeld and Philosophy: A Book About Everything and Nothing and The Simpsons and Philosophy: The D'oh! Of Homer.

For some reason, I think these books work better when confined to a more intimate universe like that of a television show or a movie. (There are also volumes on The Matrix, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Lord of the Rings. In the works are books intermingling philosophy with The Sopranos and Harry Potter.) Perhaps it is because those are fictional oeuvres and the books discuss two-dimensional characters that are much less complex and deal with less complex issues than baseball does.

That does not mean that Baseball and Philosophy is without its charms. Twenty-four essays (representing the twenty-four base-out situations?) are included from thirty-one academics, mainly philosophy professors. But there are also chapters by history professors and statisticians (Jay Bennett; co-author of Curve Ball with Jim Albert collaborated on an essay entitled "The Numbers Game.") As a dilletante statistorian, I found these to be the most enjoyable parts of the book.

Albert and Aryn Martin inject the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle into a discussion of baseball stats. In a nutshell, measurement itself becomes part of the phenomenon being measured. "Ticket sales soared when Roger Clemens pitched for his 300th victory, although the game itself may have been no better than his 299th or 301st. Consider also the magical 500 home run mark for admittance into the Hall of Fame. Statistics have the capability to illuminate the mysteries of the game' But, despite their seeming descriptive innocence, their misuse can obscure our understanding and orchestrate elements to the detriment of the game."

There are also essays that deal with Japanese baseball, the Negro Leagues (including one by Renaissance man and former football pro Pellom McDaniels excerpted here) and women in baseball. While brief, they are nice little overviews of some of the aspects and history of those topics.

The heart of the order of this book, however, is how different baseball topics relate to a particular branch of philosophy. For instance, Paul Horan and Jason Solomon's essay on Commissioner Selig's attempt to contract the Minnesota Twins turns into a discussion on ethics and utilitarianism. Political philosophy is another subject covered. Editor Eric Bronson uses George Steinbrenner, Billy Martin, and Reggie Jackson as examples as he explains why democracy needs dissent: "From New York's malcontents we can learn the value of dissent. In democracies when such dissatisfaction is silenced, life becomes dull. More importantly, as (Martin Luther) King points out, a contented agreement also breeds injustice and sometimes violence." This Bronx trio also shows how some overrate team chemistry.

Some chapters discuss hot topics: "Would Kant Cork His Bat?" "Should Steroids be Banned?" and "Should Pete Rose be in the Hall of Fame?" (I believe that this book went to press prior to the release of Rose's new "auto" biography My Prison Without Bars.) While they are interesting essays, some of them are as brief as op-ed pieces; not long enough to do the topic justice. To be frank, I've seen most of these topics covered better by non-philosophers. Some of the more hip journalists and the baseball blogerati (e.g. King Kaufman, who happens to be a weird hybrid of both) as well as some of the slackademics how hang out at baseball message boards have, in my mind, covered these topics better.

Of these essays with a more philosophical bent, my favorite was Gregory Bassham's "The Zen of Hitting." It shows how the advice of Ted Williams and Charlie Lau sometimes echoes the wisdom found in Eugen Herrigel's Zen in the Art of Archery.

Maybe it's just me. I had high expectations for Baseball and Philosophy coming off the strength of a couple of the early volumes from the series. It left me a little unsatisfied, but I can think of people who I'd recommend the book to: 1.) Those who have twin interest in baseball and philosophy, and 2.) Completists or those who will buy every baseball book under the sun (or every book in the Pop Culture and Philosophy series.) Unfortunately neither my wallet nor my bookcase is infinite in size. I'd rather buy The D'oh! Of Homer or Baseball Prospectus 2004 Edition first.

To put this into baseball terms, think of Baseball and Philosophy as a literary equivalent of Joe Carter: a good player who had some great moments but didn't make the Hall of Fame.

PS ' I know some of you yardbirds make issues out of things like this, but don't consider my links to Barnes and Noble an endorsement. Choose whatever bookseller you prefer. I do, however, fully support Baseball Reference.