Can exchange bring us together? Are there any physical or intangible goods that escape the logic of the marketplace? Is there a relationship between truth-the very purpose of philosophy-and money? Does truth have a price? Contrary to the Sophists, who demanded payment in return for their expertise, Socrates spoke for free. He had to do so, according to Aristotle, because knowledge cannot be measured-though he could accept gifts in return. Today, we expect artists and intellectuals to be compensated for their labors. But is giving merely a form of exchange that was replaced by commerce? Anthropological investigation shows that the issue lies elsewhere: to give is to recognize in order to be recognized. It is to seal an alliance, to give oneself in what is given. Gifting raises further questions regarding the nature of sacrifice and the extent to which this last involves debt or grace. In The Price of Truth, Henaff addresses these topics in turn, arguing that the relationship established by the gift lies at the core of the social bond. What emerges is a theory of culture and community formation that accounts for the structural patterns of traditional, political, and market-dominated societies. Crucial here is the idea that gifting and marketplace exchange are incommensurable. The latter, which involves money and contracts, has its own economic, political, and ethical necessity. The gift, though, always raises the ethical question of reciprocal recognition, a radical imperative to respect and be respected. Money has the power to threaten this requirement and break the bond that unites us. Why? To answer is to understand how the-priceless-price of truth is inseparable from that of dignity.

Winner, French Voices Award for excellence in publication and translation. When it comes to giving, philosophers love to be the most generous. For them, every form of reciprocity is tainted by commercial exchange. In recent decades, such thinkers as Derrida, Levinas, Henry, Marion, Ricoeur, Lefort, and Descombes, have made the gift central to their work, haunted by the requirement of disinterestedness. As an anthropologist as well as a philosopher, Henaff worries that philosophy has failed to distinguish among various types of giving. The Philosophers' Gift returns to Mauss to reexamine these thinkers through the anthropological tradition. Reciprocity, rather than disinterestedness, he shows, is central to ceremonial giving and alliance, whereby the social bond specific to humans is proclaimed as a political bond. From the social fact of gift practices, Henaff develops an original and profound theory of symbolism, the social, and the relationship between self and other, whether that other is an individual human being, the collective other of community and institution, or the impersonal other of the world.

Winner, French Voices Award for excellence in publication and translation. When it comes to giving, philosophers love to be the most generous. For them, every form of reciprocity is tainted by commercial exchange. In recent decades, such thinkers as Derrida, Levinas, Henry, Marion, Ricoeur, Lefort, and Descombes, have made the gift central to their work, haunted by the requirement of disinterestedness. As an anthropologist as well as a philosopher, Henaff worries that philosophy has failed to distinguish among various types of giving. The Philosophers' Gift returns to Mauss to reexamine these thinkers through the anthropological tradition. Reciprocity, rather than disinterestedness, he shows, is central to ceremonial giving and alliance, whereby the social bond specific to humans is proclaimed as a political bond. From the social fact of gift practices, Henaff develops an original and profound theory of symbolism, the social, and the relationship between self and other, whether that other is an individual human being, the collective other of community and institution, or the impersonal other of the world.

Can exchange bring us together? Are there any physical or intangible goods that escape the logic of the marketplace? Is there a relationship between truth-the very purpose of philosophy-and money? Does truth have a price? Contrary to the Sophists, who demanded payment in return for their expertise, Socrates spoke for free. He had to do so, according to Aristotle, because knowledge cannot be measured-though he could accept gifts in return. Today, we expect artists and intellectuals to be compensated for their labors. But is giving merely a form of exchange that was replaced by commerce? Anthropological investigation shows that the issue lies elsewhere: to give is to recognize in order to be recognized. It is to seal an alliance, to give oneself in what is given. Gifting raises further questions regarding the nature of sacrifice and the extent to which this last involves debt or grace. In The Price of Truth, Henaff addresses these topics in turn, arguing that the relationship established by the gift lies at the core of the social bond. What emerges is a theory of culture and community formation that accounts for the structural patterns of traditional, political, and market-dominated societies. Crucial here is the idea that gifting and marketplace exchange are incommensurable. The latter, which involves money and contracts, has its own economic, political, and ethical necessity. The gift, though, always raises the ethical question of reciprocal recognition, a radical imperative to respect and be respected. Money has the power to threaten this requirement and break the bond that unites us. Why? To answer is to understand how the-priceless-price of truth is inseparable from that of dignity.