ABSTRACT
A few days ago in a taxi in New York, the driver turned around (to the risk of our lives) and said: ‘Excuse me, are you Bertrand Russell?’
I saw that denial would be useless, so I admitted the fact. He then went on to say that in former days he had heard me lecture, but that belonged to his intellectual past. ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘I am a married man and have ceased to be a person.’
