Remembering Fred Dallmayr

A good teacher, and a good man

Fred Dallmayr, Packey J. Dee Professor Emeritus of Political Science at the University of Notre Dame. RIP.

Today’s is only a short post, and not about books, or only indirectly. Instead, just a quick note to remember one of my former teachers. I received my doctorate from the University of Notre Dame, so they send me their alumni magazine. A new issue arrived in the mail yesterday, and my wife was flipping through it when she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! Fred Dallmayr died!”

Fred—whose actual first name, I now learned for the first time, was Winfried—was one of my political theory professors and a member of my dissertation committee. Fred had been born in Ulm, Germany, and had emigrated to the United States in 1955, after the Second World War. By the time I arrived at ND in the fall of 1993, he was already a legend within the university’s political science department, where he taught from 1978 until his retirement in 2004.

Fred was a specialist in 20th-century continental philosophy, which he had a knack for making accessible to students. Later in his career he worked increasingly in non-Western philosophy as well. He was remarkably active internationally, developing a broad network of contacts as his thought moved in this cosmopolitan direction. He was also amazingly prolific, authoring 40 books, a rate of about one per year. I have a copy here in my office of his book on The Other Heidegger, which he kindly inscribed for me.

I remember Fred as a very kind and gentle person, whose sharp intellect was hidden behind a courteous demeanor and an impish sense of humor. His approach to philosophy was charitable, receptive, and dialogic in the best sense of that over-used word: Fred was always open to new impulses and insights and to learning from other traditions of thought.

I have not worked extensively in the continental tradition myself, so Fred did not shape my scholarly development as deeply as some of my other teachers. But he left a small but important imprint on my life nonetheless. When I was working on my dissertation, he at one point told me—I no longer remember the precise context—that I should explore “untrodden paths,” a very Dallmayr-esque recommendation. My German wife always thought that was good advice for her somewhat staid husband, and the phrase has stuck with us over the years. In fact, when she later began to keep a blog about homeschooling our children, so that her own German relatives could see what we are all up to across the ocean, she named it “Untrodden Paths.” The words have remained a kind of motto for us.

Fred died back in June, so I am rather late in learning of his passing. But I’m glad for the opportunity to honor his memory and to express my gratitude for his kindness, his teaching, and his encouragement, those many years ago, to explore some untrodden paths.

The ND alumni magazine’s obituary can be found by scrolling to the bottom of this page, and here is a similar brief remembrance from ND Press, which published a number of Fred’s books.

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next time for another installment From My Bookshelf.