First para­graphs of the article, that can be read online:

Ibn Tufayl, a 12th-century Andalusian, fash­ioned the feral child in phi­losophy. His story Hayy ibn Yaqzan is the tale of a child raised by a doe on an unnamed Indian Ocean island. Hayy ibn Yaqzan (lit­erally ‘Living Son of Awak­eness’) reaches a state of perfect, ecstatic under­standing of the world. A med­i­tation on the pos­si­bil­ities (and pit­falls) of the quest for the good life, Hayy offers not one, but two ‘utopias’: a eutopia (εὖ ‘good’, τόπος‘place’) of the mind in perfect iso­lation, and an ethical com­munity under the rule of law. Each has a version of human hap­piness. Ibn Tufayl pits them against each other, but each unfolds ‘no where’ (οὐ ‘not’, τόπος ‘place’) in the world.

Ibn Tufayl begins with a vision of humanity iso­lated from society and pol­itics. (Modern European political the­o­rists who employed this lit­erary device called it ‘the state of nature’.) He intro­duces Hayy by spec­u­lating about his origin. Whether Hayy was placed in a basket by his mother to sail through the waters of life (like Moses) or born by spon­ta­neous gen­er­ation on the island is irrel­evant, Ibn Tufayl says. His divine station remains the same, as does much of his life, spent in the company only of animals. Later philoso­phers held that society ele­vates humanity from its natural animal state to an advanced, civilised one. Ibn Tufayl took a dif­ferent view. He main­tained that humans can be per­fected only outside society, through a progress of the soul, not the species.

In con­trast to Thomas Hobbes’s view that ‘man is a wolf to man’, Hayy’s island has no wolves. It proves easy enough for him to fend off other crea­tures by waving sticks at them or donning ter­ri­fying cos­tumes of hides and feathers. For Hobbes, the fear of violent death is the origin of the social con­tract and the apologia for the state; but Hayy’s first encounter with fear of death is when his doe-mother dies. Des­perate to revive her, Hayy dis­sects her heart only to find one of its chambers is empty. The coroner-turned-theologian con­cludes that what he loved in his mother no longer resides in her body. Death therefore was the first lesson of meta­physics, not politics.”