In “Quine on Meaning and Existence, I,” Gilbert Harman makes the following exegetical claim about Quine's attitude towards the postulation of propositions:

A starting point for this paper is that there is at least one concept of probability, call it epistemic probability, which can be identified with belief or some sort of idealised belief (e.g., rational belief). If this identification is to be of any significance, then it needs to be shown that epistemic probability is a ‘true’ probability concept and is subject to those restrictions and requirements which relate and govern probabilities, which we call the probability calculus.

The most rehearsed argument to establish the probability calculus for epistemic probabilities is the Dutch Book Argument (DBA). There are two intuitions behind the DBA. The first is that if we can find some fine-grained behavioural measure of epistemic probability, then we may be able to show that epistemic probabilities obey the probability calculus by showing that the behaviour is of a kind which is, as a matter of necessity, subject to certain limitations and restrictions.

Agent-relative reasons are an important feature of any nonconsequentialist moral theory. Many authors think that they cannot be accommodated within a value-first theory that understands all value as agent-neutral. In this paper, I offer a novel explanation of agent-relative reasons that accommodates them fully within an agent-neutral value-first view. I argue that agent-relative reasons are to be understood in terms of second-order value responses: when an agent acts on an agent-relative reason, she responds appropriately to the agent-neutral value of her own appropriate response to some agent-neutral value. This view helps reconcile important elements of deontology and consequentialism.

Lange (2000) famously argues that although Jeffrey Conditionalization is non-commutative over evidence, it’s not defective in virtue of this feature. Since reversing the order of the evidence in a sequence of updates that don’t commute does not reverse the order of the experiences that underwrite these revisions, the conditions required to generate commutativity failure at the level of experience will fail to hold in cases where we get commutativity failure at the level of evidence. If our interest in commutativity is, fundamentally, an interest in the order-invariance of information, an updating sequence that does not violate such a principle at the more fundamental level of experiential information should not be deemed defective. This paper claims that Lange’s argument fails as a general defense of the Jeffrey framework. Lange’s argument entails that the inputs to the Jeffrey framework differ from those of classical Bayesian Conditionalization in a way that makes them defective. Therefore, either the Jeffrey framework is defective in virtue of not commuting its inputs, or else it is defective in virtue of commuting the wrong kinds of ones.

Throughout the Politics, Aristotle discusses claims to the supreme authority (to kyrion) in a polis. Some claims are made on qualitative grounds, and here Aristotle mentions freedom, wealth, education, good birth, military power, and virtue (1268a21-23, 1279a40-b5, 1283a16-18, 1283bl, 1294a20, 1296b18, 1301a39-1301b4). Other claims are made on quantitative grounds (1296b17), and here Aristotle refers to the superior numbers of the multitude (1296b19). Since he takes all these claims seriously and since several parties may claim power on different grounds, quarrels (amphisbētēsis, 1283b3, also 1283a24) are to be expected. As opposed to this, in the ideal polis all claims are made by the same group. Claims on qualitative grounds make us inquire about possible bearers of such qualities. For example, is a claim on account of wealth, a claim on behalf of wealthy individuals, or may it also be an argument on behalf of groups none of whose members qualifies, but which qualifies as a group if its wealth is taken to be the sum over the individual shares? This question is significant because different answers lead to different distributions of power.

An analysis of necessary condition and presupposition reveals that, as logical relations, these notions are basically similar to each other and different from the notion of entailment or other ‘if-then’ relations of logical consequence. Both necessary condition and presupposition seem to be two-directional in a rather peculiar way. Appreciating this is helpful in interpreting philosophers such as Kant and Strawson who have relied extensively on these relations in constructing the philosophical arguments often referred to as transcendental arguments. It also suggests some fundamental shortcomings in Strawson's account of presupposition and in the logician's way of presenting necessary condition using ‘⊂'.

In the discussion which follows I shall exhibit some of the differences between necessary condition and presupposition on the one hand and entailment on the other. I shall then go on to offer an explanation of these differences in conjunction with an analysis of necessary condition and presupposition which diverges from other contemporaty accounts. Once these distinctions and explanations have been stated, I shall make some suggestions about their relevance to the interpretation and assessment of philosophical texts and arguments.

Suppose Figure 1 depicts Stimuli from an experiment on shape discrimination, where the subjects are asked to point out the best circle.

Now suppose that Figure 2 shows Stimuli from a color-discrimination experiment where the subjects’ task is to pick the purest green — green that is neither yellowish nor bluish — in other words, is unique green.

In both these tasks there are individual differences between different subjects. However, notice that in the shape-discrimination case there is exactly one correct response: the best circle is the fourth from the left. In the color case it is not obvious, to put it mildly, that there is exactly one correct response. One color-normal subject may find that the purest green is the third from the left, whereas another may choose the fifth from the left, and still another may pick the fourth. Who is right, and who is wrong? More importantly, why is there this difference between shape perception and color perception?

Recently Saul Kripke has drawn attention to a puzzle about belief and proper names, a puzzle of which philosophers have been aware for a long time, but which has never been completely resolved. Kripke gives a new, bilingual illustration of the puzzle:1 Pierre, while living in his native France, learns much about the city of London, which he calls ‘Londres,’ and comes to believe something which he would express in French with the words, ‘Londres est jolie.’ Using standard principle of translation, it seems correct for us to say, ‘Pierre believes that London is pretty.’ Suppose however that Pierre learns English, travels to London, learns that the name of the city he is in is ‘London,’ and sincerely and comprehendingly asserts, ‘London is not pretty.’ On the basis of his assertion, it seems correct for us to say, ‘Pierre believes that London is not pretty.’ But suppose he does not realize that ‘Londres’ is also a name for the city he is in, so he retains the belief which he would express with the French words, ‘Londres est jolie.’ Then, by the same principles of translation as before, it seems that we are still justified in saying, ‘Pierre believes that London is pretty.’ But now we have attributed to Pierre contradictory beliefs, and that does not seem acceptable, since Pierre has committed no logical oversight.

Kripke believes that this is the same puzzle as one that arises in older, monolingual examples, such as that used by Quine: suppose Tom believes that Cicero denounced Cataline. Since ‘Tully’ is another name for Cicero, it seems acceptable to paraphrase his belief and say, ‘Tom believes that Tully denounced Cataline.’ But suppose Tom does not realize that Cicero and Tully are the same person, and suppose, in fact, that he sincerely and comprehendingly asserts, ‘Tully did not denounce Cataline.’ Then it also seems acceptable to say, on the basis of Tom’s assertion, ‘Tom believes that Tully did not denounce Cataline.’ But now we have attributed to Tom contradictory beliefs, and, as in the Pierre example, that does not seem acceptable.

Capitalism is often defended by appeals to natural rights: only in a free market, it is said, are people protected from the illegitimate intrusions of others. Coercion, either to prevent exchanges or to redistribute wealth, violates people's rights. But much of the property people have acquired came not from their own effort or the efforts of those who gave them gifts, but instead was taken from nature. Thus the question I propose to discuss in this paper: How is it that an unowned natural resource (land, for example) can legitimately be acquired for private benefit? Much thought has been given by libertarian defenders of capitalism to justifying the claim that, once owned, property cannot be taken without its owner's consent. Relatively little attention has been paid, however, to how the original acquisition can be justified. Indeed, I argue here that if one approaches the problem of resource appropriation from the perspective of the Lockean ‘proviso,’ that enough and as good must be left in common, then the typical method of acquiring property under capitalism is unjust. Libertarians must either give up the individualistic, state of nature approach to economic justice or admit that appropriation of natural resources requires compensation of people who do not get a share of the resource.

By ‘Liberalism’ or ‘a liberal-democratic theory of justice’ I understand the thesis that a modern, affluent society is just only if it respects and enforces certain rights. Among these are rights to free speech, the liberty to make one's own self-regarding choices (free from excessive paternalistic meddling by the state), privacy, due process of law, participation in society's political decision-making, and private property in personal posessions. By a ‘justification’ of these core rights of liberalism I understand a moral theory (plus necessary empirical assumptions) from which they are derivable. A moral theory which justifies the core rights will, ipso facto, condemn slavery, totalitarianism, and other social arrangements incompatible with a liberal-democratic constitution. What shape that moral theory should have is a matter of some dispute. According to philosophers like Ronald Dworkin it must be ‘rights-based.’ The core rights of liberalism in his view are derivable from the fundamental human right to ‘equal respect and consideration.’ A widely held alternative view is that the core rights are simply social rules the existence of which promotes human welfare.

In studying logic, one learns how to establish that a conclusion follows from a set of premises. Those arguments that exhibit one of the valid forms of the deductive system under study are valid. There may be questions about what forms are exhibited by various arguments - Is this English conditional (or any other) really truth-functional? Is this disjunction really inclusive? Are the English predicates used with uniform meaning? - but none of these problems undermine the claim that if an argument exhibits a valid form of a system for deductive logic, then that argument is valid.

When we move on to study invalidity, however, we find that the situation is not parallel. Every argument is an instance of some invalid argument forms, and we cannot say that every instance of every invalid form is invalid.

There are a number of different grounds on which philosophers have argued that the question “Should I be moral?” is unintelligible or at least somewhat odd. Some evidently are unable to understand ‘should’ in any other way than ‘morally ought’, with the consequence that the question can admit of no answer but the affirmative. Others, influenced by the later Wittgenstein, hold that, although ‘should ’-questions have a role within the moral language game, the ‘should’ in the question above has no real function, it is like a ‘machine idling,’ and we can attribute no real sense to it. Now I consider neither of these arguments to be successful or even very plausible, but I do wish to consider a further argument which is logically independent of the above and which appears, initially at least, to be quite plausible.

Many of the central theses of Hume's philosophy – his rejection of real relations, universals, abstract objects and necessary causal relations – had precedents in the later medieval nominalist tradition. Hume and his medieval predecessors developed complex semantic theories to show both how ontologies are apt to become inflated and how, if we understand carefully the processes by which meaning is generated, we can achieve greater ontological parsimony. Tracing a trajectory from those medieval traditions to Hume reveals Hume to be more radical, particularly in his rejection of abstraction and abstract ideas. Hume's denial of general, abstract ideas is consistent with his philosophical principles but fails to appreciate the more sophisticated nominalist approaches to abstraction, the result of which is a theoretically impoverished account of our capacity for generalization.

Zeno's challenge to the usual mathematical characterization of extension is still with us. Butchvarov, considering the limits of ontological analysis, writes, “I shall not explore [the decision to accept the infinite regress in which the pursuit of the analytical ideal is involved], beyond noting that the infinite divisibility of space is the reductio ad absurdum of any attempt to understand space in terms of its ultimate, simple parts.” Grünbaum states this problem, commonly known as the Measure Paradox, concisely, “[How can one conceive] of an extended continuum as an aggregate of unextended elements ?”

I wish here to consider a certain type of argument often produced as a refutation of ethical egoism. Such an argument asks us to consider a situation in which the interests of two people conflict. It is then pointed out that the consequence of applying both ethical egoism and some widely accepted conceptual truth concerning the moral words to this situation is in some way ‘absurd’. Ethical egoism is therefore to be rejected. My strategy, in trying to show that this kind of argument is unsound, is this: I will first produce a simple refutation of ethical egoism of my own; I will show why it is unsound; I will try to show that these other arguments fail in the same way.

In the last two decades, there has been a great deal of interest in providing an intentional criterion of the psychological. Of the various ones proferred, it seems to me that the best was the earliest, which was Chisholm’s initial criterion in his 1955 essay “Sentences about Believing.” In this present paper I first single out a basic misconception pervading the recent literature on intentionality and suggest that a consequence of this misconception has been the futile attempt to use the notion of intentionality to provide a kind of definition of “mind”; that is, to use intentionality to provide a necessary and sufficient condition for the psychological. Secondly, I point out how intentionality as captured by my own criterion is indispensable in that it is an essential property of certain particulars (persons) which are basic to our conceptual scheme and apparently basic to any conceptual scheme whatsoever.

In this paper I pursue two closely related objectives. First, I articulate and describe the nature and character of Hume‘s theory of punishment. Second, in light of this account, I offer an assessment of the contemporary interest and value of Hume‘s theory.