Professor John Wisdom holds that religions speak about the world we all know even when they seem to refer to what lies outside the sphere of our senses or beyond this life. He insists that even when there is little or no difference between the believer and the nonbeliever in what they expect in a future life, the difference between them is not confined to how they live their life and face death. They also differ in how they see life — though these two differences are logically dependent. So it makes sense to ask whether what they say about life is true; religious beliefs are amenable to reasons which ultimately rest on how things stand here and now. A belief in the God of the scriptures is no exception to this.

Ethical egoism, when summarized into a single ethical principle, is the position that a person ought, all things considered, to do an action if and only if that action is in his overall self-interest. The criticisms standardly advanced against this view try to show either that it is subject to some fatal logical flaw or else that, even if logically coherent, it can give no account of the basic parts of morality. Both these objections are mistaken, however, and it is the point of this paper to make this clear. Central to my argument is the distinction drawn in Section 1 between two kinds of moral reasoning and hence two kinds of moral reasons. I call these ‘traditional’ and ‘nontraditional’ (the latter could be termed ‘conventional’ or ‘institutional’ without much change of meaning). Both are present in the writings of contemporary moral philosophers but have not been emphasized or seen as crucial.

It is often said that singular causal statements express a relationship between one event and another or between a fact and an event. This is a very strong view, which has the following simple corollary: singular causal statements whose cause-term purports to refer to an event (or a fact) and whose effect-term purports to refer to an event express a relationship between an event (or a fact) and an event.

Thus, both Davidson and Kim would claim that the singular causal Statement

(1) Socrates’ drinking hemlock at dusk caused his death expresses a relationship between two events, referred to, respectively, by the expressions “Socrates’ drinking hemlock at dusk” and “his death.” For Kim, but not for Davidson, an event is analyzable as a thing's having a property at or during a time. The event of Socrates’ drinking hemlock at dusk consists of Socrates’ at a certain time having the property of drinking hemlock at dusk. I shall not here try to choose between their respective theories of events but will only note that both theorists would say that (1) expresses a relationship between events however the latter are to be construed.

John Rawls’ use of a contractarian strategy for justifying basic principles of justice has raised the hope that a similar strategy might work for a theory of right and moral principles generally. I want to show that this hope cannot be fulfilled.

In what follows I interpret contractarianism in a Rawlsian way on the grounds that his is the most plausible version of the doctrine we are likely to get. I am not however concerned with the details of Rawls’ argument for justice but instead with an idea that appears to underlie the contractarian strategy. In order to avoid the complications of Rawlsian exegesis, I choose to discuss the doctrine as it might be used to justify a moral principle of mutual assistance and not as Rawls in fact uses it to justify principles of justice.

Is acrasia possible? Can you do wrong knowingly? Opinion divides. Each, to the other side, is a paradox monger.

At issue is the most felicitous set of concepts and principles to bring to descriptions and evaluations of human action. So to speak, such a set is an outline of a script for reality to play: it provides identities and relations in which individuals and events or whatever may be cast. Deniers typically begin with a set that rules acrasia out of court, recasting alleged examples in a different explanatory mold. Affirmers typically begin with plausible examples and look for a theoretical framework to place them in, taking those that disallow it to be absurd. But any denier, on legitimate dialectical grounds, can point out that such a reductio is a petitio. So it is a resilient issue, still with us after being bounced around so much in history.

This paper is concerned with the genesis of mathematical knowledge. While some philosophers might argue that mathematics has no real subject matter and thus is not a body of knowledge, I will not try to dissuade them directly. (One might do so by developing a theory of meaning and truth, which together with observations from the sociology of mathematics would imply that mathematical knowledge exists. Mathematicians do seem to make knowledge claims, so all one needs is a theory which shows that here at least appearances are real.) I shall not attempt such a refutation because it seems clear to me that mathematicians do know such things as the Mean Value Theorem, The Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic, Godel's Theorems, etc. Moreover, this is much more evident to me than any philosophical view of mathematics I know of — including my own. So I am going to take mathematics as my starting point.

Professor John Wisdom holds that the reference to be found in many religious beliefs to what lies beyond the world and transcends the senses is misleading. Religious beliefs speak and, indeed, can only speak about this world, the world we know by means of the senses. The religious believer is himself misled when he describes the God he believes in as transcendent. What gives content to his beliefs is how certain things stand in this world. To appreciate these and so to embrace the beliefs in question is for a person to change in himself, to come into contact with something that lies within him. Here lies the spiritual aspect of the content of religious beliefs.

In this paper I wish to propose and defend a form of the Representative Theory of Perception (RTP). According to this version of the theory, when a subject perceives some object x to be in a state P1 he does so by being aware of some modfication M1 (from a range M1,M2, … Mn) of some object E. The subject's way of perceiving any one of a range of objects x,y,z, … is that of being aware of some modification of E (leaving it open whether E is the subject himself, a person, an ego or a sense-field, e.g., a visual field). It will be a necessary condition of someone's perceiving x to have property P1 that E be modified in some way. And in order for the modifications of E to be representations, a given property P1 will need to be causally related, characteristically, to one or more specific modifications, M1,M2, … Mn, of E. (For simplicity, instead of taking the physical states or modifications P1,P2, … Pn to be states of individual physical objects, I shall assume them to be modifications of the physical world (in toto) symbolized by ‘X'.)

The abortion debate rages on. Yet the two most popular positions seem to be clearly mistaken. Conservatives maintain that a human life begins at conception and that therefore abortion must be wrong because it is murder. But not all killings of humans are murders. Most notably, self defense may justify even the killing of an innocent person.

Liberals, on the other hand, are just as mistaken in their argument that since a fetus does not become a person until birth, a woman may do whatever she pleases in and to her own body. First, you cannot do as you please with your own body if it affects other people adversely. Second, if a fetus is not a person, that does not imply that you can do to it anything you wish. Animals, for example, are not persons, yet to kill or torture them for no reason at all is wrong.

Some of the most important disagreements among value theorists concern what things, if any, are intrinsically valuable, and what role intrinsically valuable things have in determining the value of other things. To understand these disagreements a clear account must be provided of the notion of intrinsic value which is their focus. The account should not prejudge these disagreements. For reasons to be considered I do not think that an adequate account has been provided of a notion of intrinsic value that can be taken to be the focus of these disagreements. I attempt to provide such an account in this paper. In order to do this I outline what I think is a reasonable task for a value theory, the task of “reconstructing value.” In explaining this task I take as a model the task of reconstructing knowledge.

Hume's moral theory, I shall here argue, is explicitly and in fundamental ways a common sense theory. It is widely accepted, of course, that Hume found moral distinctions to rest on sentiment, and that he found in the principle of sympathy the means by which individual sentiments come to be experienced by others. What has not received adequate attention is Hume's concern to refute moral skepticism and his explicit reliance on appeals to “common sense,” nor,so far as I know, has anyone suggested how these several features coalesce in an outlook which is appropriately designated a common sense theory. To support my claim I shall first show that Hume is not, as is widely supposed, what we would term a “subjectivist” in morals, and that in fact he means to establish, in at least two important senses of the term, the “objectivity”of morals.

Hume, among others, has received bad press on his views about the nature of pleasure. I shall argue that such complaints rest on an incomplete and somewhat distorted view of Hume's enterprise. In addition, I shall attempt to rectify this state of affairs by explicating the manner in which Hume deploys the concept of pleasure in his value theory.

The notion of possible worlds — once an abstruse offspring of Leibnizian theology — seems to enjoy a new lease on life in the hands of contemporary modal logicians and semanticists. The phrase “possible world” crops up with increasing frequency, and, as it is the case with many philosophical catchwords, its very familarity creates a presumption of understanding. Yet, although some related problems, particularly the one concerning cross-world identification of individuals, have received some critical scrutiny, the very idea of possible worlds has been borrowed from Leibniz, and its intelligibility taken for granted even without its theological roots.

My misgivings about this notion are not due to a prejudice against the concept of the possible itself: far from “passing” away, it remains a fundamental and irreplaceable element of human thought.

In a recent trial in the United States a physician was convicted of manslaughter during the performance of a hysterotomy on a woman pregnant from twenty to twenty eight weeks. Some members of the jury, in their deliberations, were much impressed by seeing a photograph of a fetus of about the same age. The experience apparently provided some jurors with reason to conclude that the fetus which did die during or immediately after the hysterotomy was a human being or a person or, at least, was so like a child that the killing of it was prohibited by the law of homicide. If being a human being is not the same as being a pre-natal progeny of homo sapiens, it is difficult to understand how one could “tell by looking” whether the fetus is a human being. But the sight of a fetus of twenty weeks or longer does, I think, tempt us to think that from a moral standpoint we ought to extend the same treatment to such fetuses, or virtually the same, as we extend to newborn babies and young children. The visual similarities between middle or late stage fetuses and newborn babies is striking.

1. There is no dearth of objections to Rawls's A Theory of justice. Scores of articles and several books begin by praising the rigor and depth of Rawls's book — and end by concluding that it is thoroughly mistaken. In the present essay I will not add to the list of negative responses to A Theory of Justice. Instead I will attempt to reply to Rawls's critics in a way which makes a positive contribution to his theory.

2. Among the many objections that have been raised against Rawls's theory, two are of paramount importance. It is these two objections I shall attempt to meet. They may be formulated as follows.

A convention is a regularity in behavior, sustained by a system of preferences and expectations, that has a possible alternative: so claims David Lewis. That it is not, is what I hope to show.

In Convention; A Philosophical Study, Lewis gives an analysis of what he hopes is “our common, established concept of convention.” In developing his analysis, Lewis extensively employs the technical vocabulary of game theory. According to Lewis conventions are established by “populations” in order to solve recurring “coordination problems.” Lewis gives eleven examples of “coordination problems” which he claims are solved by convention. One example is the following:

Act Utilitarianism has traditionally been regarded as the view that you should always perform the action that will bring about the greatest possible excess of happiness over unhappiness or, if there is no such alternative, the least possible excess of unhappiness over happiness.1 Following Rawls, I shall call this the classical principle. An alternative which Rawls calls the average principle is the view that you should always do the thing that will bring about the highest possible average happiness level. Rawls, Rescher and Broad2 regard the average principle as superior to the classical principle, and there are considerable grounds for supposing that Mill accepted the average principle.3 Smart favours the classical position but confesses that if someone doesn't feel the same way, he doesn't know how to argue with him.4

Kant gave a two-fold answer to the question, ‘Is existence a predicate?’. His view that existence is not a first-level predicate, i.e., a predicate of objects like horses, stones, and you and me, is widely known. What is not so well-known, however, is his claim that existence is a second-level predicate, a predicate of concepts or of a collection of predicates. In this paper I hope to show why his arguments for both claims are unsuccessful.

The doctrine of double effect (hereafter abbreviated to DDE) is a principle of conduct that allows its adherents in certain difficult cases, provided certain conditions are satisfied, to bring about an effect indirectly that they are forbidden to bring about directly. By ‘indirectly', I mean that the effect in question is aimed at neither as an end in itself nor as a means to an end. In terms of Bentham's distinction between ‘oblique’ and ‘direct’ intention, DDE may be characterized as the thesis that, in certain difficult cases, provided certain conditions are satisfied, one may bring about (it is permissible to bring about) by oblique intention, as the merely foreseen consequence of an act, what one may not directly intend, either as end or as means.

The conditions in question are four, and failure to satisfy any one of them ensures the inapplicability of DDE to a particular situation. The first condition is that the act to be done, considered in itself and apart from its consequences, must not be intrinsically wrong.