Introduction: the hedgefox

IN A PERHAPS overused metaphor, academics are sometimes classified as “hedgehogs” and “foxes.” Playing on a famous, albeit somewhat mysterious, statement by the seventh century BC philosopher Archilochus that “the fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing,” the prototypical hedgehog is a system addict on a quest for a unified theory of everything. Foxes, in contrast, have an appreciation of the complexities of reality which prevents them from even entertaining the possibility of any grand unifying scheme. Belying their physical image, hedgehogs are the life of the party. They take outrageous positions and push their arguments to the limit, generating heated debate. Foxes, despite their slyness, are party duds; they stand on the sidelines shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the naivety of the hedgehogs' wild speculations. One more strike against foxes. As the party extends into the waning hours, however, the frantic repartee of the hedgehogs can wear thin, even to the hedgehogs themselves. At this time, the host begins to long for the arrival of a third species of party animal: the “hedgefox.” Hedgefoxes combine the best properties of their two mammalian relatives. Like the hedgehog, the hedgefox is a synthesizer; but like the fox, the hedgefox cares about, and advances theories that take account of, and make sense of, the complexities of reality. If research on emotions is a party (and the explosive growth of the topic over the past few decades has lent the topic something of a party