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In Memoriam: David Berman (1942-2026)

Professor Berman, who spent his career at Trinity College Dublin, was well-known for his work on Berkeley and also on Schopenhauer, and also wrote widely on Irish philosophy. The TCD memorial notice is here. Comments are open for remembrances from those who knew Professor Berman or for those who wish to comment on the significance of his work.

(Thanks to David Gordon and Paul Russell for calling this to my attention.)

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5 responses to “In Memoriam: David Berman (1942-2026)”

  1. I taught in the philosophy department (“mental and moral sciences – philosophy”) at TCD in 1977-1979, and so had David Berman as a colleague. We did not become very close (I was an arrogant and stand-offish new PhD), but I respected him.
    David was, I think, an atheist, and an active supported of rationalism (in the popular rather than the technical sense of the word). One thing he did while I was in Ireland was to investigate the (late 19th C, I think) Marian apparition at Knock (which was, during my time in Ireland, a popular pilgrimage site, and was visited by the Pope in about 1980). He argued (citing details from contemporary accounts — the figures were seen as not moving — and contemporary catalogues of “magic lantern” slides — religious paintings were popular subjects) that it might have been a fraud worked with a slide projector.
    My recollection is that he said he received death threats in the mail after discussing this on a radio or TV show.
    I am sorry to hear of his death. To us an Irish idiom, “he wasn’t the worst.”

  2. Professor O’Grady’s considerate tribute highlights many of David Berman’s admirable qualities. I did not know Berman well personally – I met him only once, many years ago, at a conference. I did, however, correspond with him on a number of occasions and his replies were always both helpful and supportive. It was, nevertheless, Berman’s work that had the greatest influence on me. To some, Berman’s work may have come across as mostly “history of ideas” but that would, I think, be misleading. Berman had an acute sense of both what philosophical issues mattered and how they might be better understood and appreciated when considered through a historically informed lens.

    One of the most important merits of Berman’s work was that he looked past the myopic concern with the empiricism/rationalism dichotomy that preoccupies much of “Early Modern Philosophy” and, instead, approached figures and texts through issues and concerns that the authors and texts were actually concerned with. This is especially evident in Berman’s work on Berkeley (e.g. _George Berkeley_, Clarendon 1994), where Berkeley’s theological motivations and associations are given proper weight. Part of this “recovery” project includes Berman’s 1993 edition of Berkeley’s _Alciphron_, a rather neglected work that reflects Berkeley’s (systematic) effort to refute “freethinkers” and “atheists”. Berman’s _History of British Atheism_ (1988) is another key study that illuminates, not only familiar figures like Hobbes and Hume, but also (hugely) influential but neglected figures such as John Toland and Anthony Collins. What drives Berman’s interest in these figures and texts are fundamental philosophical issues of the Enlightenment, such as freethought (liberty) and atheism. When thinking about those who are – or are not – “marginalized” in the dominant history of philosophy, Berman’s work is one good place to begin.

    Berman’s death will, I am sure, be a great loss to his friends and colleagues – it is also a significant loss to the study of the history of philosophy.

  3. This is terribly sad news. I did not know David well, but he proved to be a hugely encouraging and supportive figure during my time at TCD, particularly when it came to exploring unconventional positions and arguments. He will be sorely missed.

  4. Another former student

    David Berman treated students with great generosity and seriousness as partners in philosophical discovery; correlatively, he was completely unimpressed by appeals to authority or mainstream philosophical opinion. Since I found some of his conclusions outlandish, I think I did not realize how deep an impression his way of inquiry was making on me. He was a rare teacher. I will miss him.

  5. David Berman was my PhD supervisor in the late 1970s and early 1980s for my research on the philosophy of Spinoza. For him, Spinoza was not just one of the great philosophers but a cultural hero. David’s atheism was hard won.

    David was one of the most insightful minds I’ve encountered. He was an original thinker, writing, for example, about issues in Spinoza’s short biography by Colerus and giving them a fascinating philosophical interpretation – I’m thinking of his paper on “Spinoza’s Spiders and Schopenhauer’s Dogs” in relation to philosophical optimism and pessimism. There was nothing he wouldn’t tackle in the history of ideas and, besides his reputation as a world class Berkeley scholar, he was an authority on Spinoza, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Marx, Hegel, Freud (and more) when I knew him.

    When he was my supervisor, there were times when I struggled with Spinoza’s thought. I’m sure I was a frustrating research student – at the time I was certainly an anxious one – and he often helped to clarify my thinking. Even though his powerful thinking often came to my rescue, I shall always remember him primarily for his kindness. He always made himself available, showed great patience and encouragement and he would invite me to walk around the grounds with him to talk. After I left Trinity we stayed in touch for several years and we met occasionally in Oxford where his then in-laws lived. When I moved abroad we lost touch.

    I was thinking of writing to him again when I read of his death. Like him, it seems, I too trained as a psychoanalyst and I’m sure he would have been pleased to know that some time ago I was asked to give the annual Spinoza lecture to the city of Amsterdam. It was inspired by something he once said to me.

    I shall remember him as a great mind and a good man. I was fortunate our paths crossed.

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