Gregory Bruce Smith explores two main themes in his new work: a reappraisal of Cicero as a political philosopher, and a concerned reflection on the state of republicanism today. In doing so, Smith shows that Cicero was an innovative political thinker in his own right, and not a mere derivation of Greek philosophy. Making the case for Cicero's originality as a political thinker, Smith distinguishes his thought from that of modern thinkers such as Hobbes, and that of postmodern thinkers, especially Nietzsche. Careful attention to Cicero's decorous writing makes Smith's volume a noteworthy addition to the recent scholarly work on Cicero's political thought. More importantly, Smith's burning care for future generations’ possession of republican liberty makes this an important piece of political writing that reflects on the life well lived and exhorts us toward it.

Smith begins with an overview of republicanism, ancient, modern, and contemporary “ironic.” Smith then explains his understanding of political philosophy, phenomenology, and constructivism, following this with a chapter on Cicero's life. We then enter a series of chapters discussing in varying levels of detail Cicero's philosophic writings such as Tusculan Disputations, De finibus, De divinatione, De natura deorum, De officiis, De oratore, De re publica, and De legibus. Each of these analyses helps uncover Cicero's understanding of philosophy, the cosmos, nature, the divine, ethics, oratory, and politics. Smith concludes with a masterful chapter on current republican discontents, the impotence of contemporary philosophy, and the need for a renewed public space to address both ills.

Political philosophy depends on a public space because philosophy as a human endeavor can begin only with the phenomena that manifest themselves “to all who share in the public space” (41). Smith claims the alternative to a phenomenological approach to political philosophy is “constructivism,” or theoretical approaches to politics based on asserted theoretical foundations that are not observable to human beings. For Smith, Aristotle is the culprit in this baleful theoretical turn by placing the locus of truth “in statements” rather than “in the phenomena.” Cicero recovered the more authentically Platonic philosophy by attending to the phenomena in the public space. Although Smith does not explicitly make this connection, he seems to find a similar corruption in Christian theology with Thomas Aquinas's reliance on Aristotle rather than Augustine's reliance on Cicero and Plato (22, 99, 358n40). Smith tacitly gestures toward Thomas as the cause of a fundamentally Aristotelian corruption of modern political philosophy. This division between Aristotle, Plato, and Cicero is somewhat confusing—what does it mean to say that truth is found in phenomena? Is there a false phenomenon? If so, what would that be? Likewise, is it true that Aristotle saw logic as something like a master science rather than a useful tool for thinking accurately and quickly?

Whatever the answers to these questions, Smith observes that too much focus on logic and theory divorced from practiced life turns philosophy away from its public purpose, at least philosophy as understood by Cicero. As philosophy turns away from its public purpose, it both becomes more privatized and proudly irrelevant to political life, while also fragmenting into various disciplines that have little to do with each other. The fragmentation of the fields of study shows the lack of a proper “first philosophy” that is also an “architectonic” philosophy. For Smith's Cicero, this first philosophy was nothing other than political philosophy, owing to its “comprehensiveness, internal consistency, closeness to the phenomena, and ultimately public persuasiveness” (63, 292). Calling political philosophy first philosophy seems to make the city and human affairs the ultimate object of philosophizing and thus the highest beings simply, but this is not what Smith has in mind. Rather, political philosophy is first philosophy because “all thought is based ultimately on a foundation that is publicly shared, situated, and in need of dialectical interrogation of what currently shows itself to all in public space” (55). Especially in this respect, Cicero is a true Socratic. Socrates, however, is famous for his search for the universal and defining the objects of political life, such as virtue, which leads to strange conclusions at variance with everyday life. Unsurprisingly, then, Smith suggests that Cicero's philosophizing is in fact superior to Socrates's (though perhaps not Plato's) by remaining truer to the necessarily political character of philosophy, especially by blurring the lines between philosopher and orator (55, 59, 98, 225–27, 233).

In the substantive chapters on Cicero's thought, Smith strikes a skillful balance between carefully reviewing Cicero's important philosophic writings without sinking too much into blow-by-blow recounting. Smith argues, persuasively, that for Cicero the question of the good always precedes the question of being, and thus that ethical orientation is prior to ontology (103). Consequently, philosophy's “primary and ultimate object” is the “soul” conceived as a cause and hence as “will.” Understanding the soul as a freely willing cause leads ineluctably to “mind studying mind,” especially the cause of mind, God (107, 109). The character of this soul or mind departs from both Platonic and Aristotelian accounts of the soul by downplaying both the importance of the passions and prudence, and inserting the notion of “conscience.” It would have been useful if Smith had spent more time articulating the differences between conscience and prudence, but there is only so much space in an already very full book.

Smith continues by explaining Cicero's natural philosophy, inasmuch as we can glean a doctrine from his refutations of the Epicureans and the Stoics. This doctrine is explained further in the following chapter on natural theology, wherein Smith deftly shows the implication of Cicero's previous refutations. Epicurean materialism is neither intellectually coherent nor politically serious, while the Stoic doctrine of mind ruling the universe reduces to a more coherent form of a doctrine of material determinism. Smith argues that careful attention to Cotta's refutation of popular theology opens the space for a providential God that can support justice and thus republicanism. Cicero supports the “rational religion” that is necessary for free politics (171–80).

Smith's chapters on ethics, oratory, and politics are useful recapitulations of the elements of Cicero's philosophy. Smith notes that Cicero's concern for virtue and the common good causes him to try to reconcile a “consequentialist” account of ethics with “deontology.” The coming together of virtue, intention, and consequence for truly moral act partly explains why Cicero seems to do away with the distinction between prudence and wisdom, while also reorienting wisdom away from theory (190–91). In general, Cicero prepares the way for a new set of virtues suited for a commercial republic while never allowing commercialism to get in the way of free government. As noted above, Cicero blurs the line between oratory and philosophy, because “only if statesmen philosophize and philosophers take the political seriously is there a possible cessation of evils for both philosophy and the city” (238). The chapter on politics is mostly a discussion of the “balanced regime” (distinguished from the Aristotelian “mixed regime”) and a meditation on the role of history and natural law in statesmanship.

Smith has given us a book that inquires into the thinking of Cicero and the nature of republican politics. His care for virtue and freedom, along with his nuanced and subtle reading of Cicero, makes his volume an impressive contribution to political thought and a noble contribution to political life. We should be grateful for such work.