There is an interesting article in The New Yorker about one Frank Ramsey, whom I admit I’d never heard of until now. It appears to be inspired by this recent biography. I usually am not very pleased with The New Yorker; it smacks of a magazine that is read by urban, moneyed individuals with some degree of intellect who desire to have an opinion about something to perform at a party, or else something to discuss in other public places so as to make them feel, and appear, cultured. This article is no exception, but, unlike most articles I run across from that magazine, it was interesting.

Ramsey seems to have known nearly everyone at the time, including Wittgenstein, and to have made quite an impression. That he appreciated C.S. Peirce (pronounced “purse”, and you should buy this volume right now, if you don’t own it) makes Ramsey appreciable.

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Header image found here.