N. J. Renshaw writes about the distance between a declared principle and the behaviour it is supposed to govern. His subjects are attention, power, self-deception, and the bargains that look harmless until the bill arrives.
He has no use for wisdom that only works in good weather. The old arguments matter where they become inconvenient: offices, friendships, institutions, ordinary Tuesdays, and the private hour in which nobody is watching.
The recurring questions are deliberately impolite: What does conviction cost? What survives status, fatigue, appetite, and fear? How much of what we call discipline is only lighting and posture?
For readers who want philosophy elegant, unsentimental, and difficult to use as an alibi.