Utopian literature is fascinating but impossible to summarize. Of course it is easy to see where its charm lies. We enjoy the “play” aspect of the Utopian convention, the common certainty— essential to both the author's intentions and the reader's pleasure—that we are dealing with a supposition described as a fact. In a Utopian text, we enjoy the power we have of imagining, and especially formulating, another overall framework for human experience—a framework which is specifically defined as being different and described as if it had concrete existence. This is the underlying attraction of a mode of expression which permits the author to talk of serious things in the protected and detached manner permitted by play. Why, then, are summaries of utopias so disappointing? Why does a re-transmitted utopia convey only the idea of an insipid world and an arbitrary creation? Why is it so hard to write about works of this type?

The genesis of civilization has been an enigma for the historian and the social scientist. How does it happen that the homogenous stream of a tribal culture differentiates into the elite and folk traditions? The duality of cultural tradition in civilised societies is widely recognized and is designated by such paired terms as the classical and the lay, the aristocratic and the common, and the great and the little tradition of culture. Apart from architechtonic formulations of the philosophers of history and the various metaphysical and mythological models that we have inherited, this question has to be approached from an empiric angle on the basts of cultural data about ancient civilizations available to us.

Behaviorist theories of language acquisition are the most prominent among current empiricist theories of language. But the inherent weaknesses of behaviorism—whether or not applied to language acquisition or linguistic meaning or the like—do not as such call into question the adequacy of the empiricist conception of language. The issue is central to contemporary speculation about the nature of linguistic competence and the infant's acquisition of language. Empiricism has, in fact, been vigorously challenged in the most sustained way, in a variety of publications, by Noam Chomsky. “From a formal point of view,” Chomsky holds,

By posing the problem of the relation between the degradation of the environment and the market economy, one presupposes a preliminary answer to a more general question: As a result of his “instincts,” is man, by necessity, predatory upon the natural order which surrounds him? If the answer to this question were affirmative, the current massacre of the environment would, at best, represent no more than an acceleration of mechanisms which are as old as the emergence of man, and, if the truth be told, any hope of the relationship between man and nature finding a new balance would be in vain. It is not very likely, however, that the answer would be a positive one. For one fundamental reason, nature is to a large extent a creation of man which has constantly modified itself throughout the history of man, ever since the invention of fire. What we call ‘nature’ is a structured, mobile complex of cycles which relate to our mineral environment and our living environment and which enable man to survive on earth; and it is impossible to ignore the action of man himself within these cycles.

In recent years many essays have been made public and various opinions have been advanced on youth. I would like to conceive one of the salient characteristics in the consciousness and the behavior pattern of today's youth as “play-orientedness” and center my discussion on that particular inclination. “Play-orientedness” here is not intended to mean merely “activeness in sports and hobbies,” nor is it synonymous with “pleasure-orientedness.” It is a broader term and is rather close in meaning to what is commonly called “the spirit of play.” We might perhaps define it as “play as a way of life,” or an inclination to introduce elements of “play” into one's daily life and make his actual life “play-like.”

Cultural pluralism generally signifies three things:

1. 1) the fact of cultural plurality, considered as the co-existence of cultures which, in principle at least, belong to different geographical areas;

2. 2) the acknowledgement of the fact of this plurality;

3. 3) the affirmation that this plurality is a good thing, and the desire to make something of it in one way or another, either by preserving the various cultures in an individual sense in order to avoid any kind of reciprocal contamination, or, conversely, by organising between them a kind of peaceful dialogue, with a view to their mutual enrichment.