Collingwood writes clearly, persuasively and interestingly. He ignores technical terms and abstruse arguments in favour of expressing himself in ordinary if, on occasion, compelling language. His persuasiveness arises out of his evident determination to provide a self-contained and convincing series of arguments, which does not presume prior familiarity with his work on the part of readers. The interest of his writings reflects the range of his reflective concerns. Collingwood's qualities as a writer are enhanced by an emotional honesty, which he presents as a feature of genuine artistic experience and which precludes him from relying on unreflected formulas. All of these features of Collingwood's work mark him out as a singular philosopher. This singularity is emphasized by his rejection of the clubbability of academic life, his abhorrence at what would nowadays be canvassed as "networking" and his insistence that the abstractions of theory are to be made to bear upon the practicalities of civilization.¹