I was born and raised in Israel. The beginning of my academic track was fairly unorthodox. I was fortunate (thanks to a program initiated by the Ministry of Education) to be able to start my B.A. as a junior-high pupil (at Israel’s Open University). I completed the degree shortly after high school, and before the start of my mandatory military service, during which I completed an M.A at the same university. So it was only when I came to the U.S. to begin my PhD studies, that I had the option of dedicating myself entirely to academia – something that I still treat as a far-from-trivial luxury.

One recurrent experience I’ve had in academia is being asked why I do not write political philosophy about the place from which I come. My traditional response was to say that it does not take a philosopher to identify moral problems in contemporary Israel. But over time, encouraged by friends and colleagues, and appalled by the ever-widening gap between my country’s founding ideals and its present realities, I’ve been considering whether themes at the heart of my work – including corruption and integrity, equal citizenship, and respect for persons simply qua human beings – can cast any distinctive light on the fragile hope for positive change in Israel. My first three books contain some treatment of these issues in the Israeli context, and the same will probably be true for certain future work as well.

* If you are confused about my name: Shmuel (the Hebrew origin of Samuel) is my ‘official’ name. Shmulik (a diminutive of Yiddish origins) is my everyday name, despite being longer.