Ever since Plato’s cave, the darkness has been considered something to be left behind. This is the founding myth of philosophy, the beginning of the Western philosophical tradition.

But how might philosophy be different if it had, from the beginning, learned to see in the dark? If it had embraced, rather than sought to tame, the emotions that sometimes overwhelm us when we experience the too-muchness of life?

Over the last decade, liberalism has found itself on the ropes. Even many liberals seem to regard it as too soft a political disposition for hard times. This has led some of its most passionate advocates to make the case for its importance with a degree of desperation commensurate with their sense of the existential threat it faces from resurgent forms of authoritarianism, intolerance, populism and political violence.

But there is another way of making the case for liberalism — and that is to point to its benevolent effects all around us, the extent to which its influence is written all over those social practices and dispositions we hold dear. In other words, maybe liberalism doesn’t have to be defended at all, but simply acknowledged, and lived-into, as a way of life that both reflects and sustains our hard-won commitment to fairness, decency and equality.

Whatever else artificial intelligence is, according to Professor Shannon Vallor, it is first and foremost a projection of the human. And so whatever threat it poses, is a threat from within our humanity.

The project of bringing extinct animals back into being is sexy, hi-tech and could confer significant environmental benefits - but at what cost? Some argue that resurrecting extinct species could actually work against the conservation of threatened species that currently exist. Why worry about their possible extinction, if we can just bring them back?

Gene technology has brought us to the point where it's theoretically possible to bring back extinct animals from the "species grave". But the science is not straightforward - and neither is the philosophy.

If you're like most people, you probably think about your life as a story - it has a beginning, a middle and an end, and the main character in the story is... you. But this seemingly "natural" main character thinking is deeply culturally determined, and it can limit us in the ways that we evaluate our own lives and the lives of others.

Historians are commonly thought of as being a little like archaeologists or scientists - they're in the business of uncovering facts, and then presenting those facts to the public as accurately as possible. But this week we're considering history as a species of narrative, and the historian as someone who doesn't "discover" the meaning of the past but constructs it.

Most of us aspire to achieve happiness in life, but is our understanding of happiness somewhat misguided? Could the wisdom of the ancient philosophers hold the key to modern happiness?

What moral judgements are made in philosophical thinking about fat bodies, and how does that culturally impact how we move through the world?

Philosophers have long debated how to define emotions and their relationship to our bodies. So, what are the different schools of thought? Why is there such a lack of consensus?