I hope that it will become clear in the course of this paper what I mean by calling some elements of science unaccountable. Let me now say only that I shall speak of the contributions made to scientific thought by acts of personal judgment which cannot be replaced by the operation of explicit reasoning. I shall try to show that such tacit operations play a decisive part not only in the discovery, but in the very holding of scientific knowledge. I shall outline the structure of these acts and indicate to what extent this structure offers a justification for relying on such acts.

Locke, in writing about ‘Trifling Propositions’ which bring no increase to our knowledge, remarked ‘When we affirm the said truth of itself, it shows us nothing but what we must certainly know before. What is this more than trifling with words? It is but like a monkey shifting his oyster from one hand to the other, and had he but words might no doubt have said “Oyster in right hand is subject and oyster in left hand is predicate”, and so might have made a selfevident proposition of oyster, i.e. oyster is oyster’.

Perhaps no word has received such varied treatment from philosophers as the word ‘good’. No doubt this is largely due to the fact that it is a word with an unusually wide range of use. Aristotle, for example, realised that it is a term that can be applied to substances, qualities, relations, actions, passivities, times and places, and we may notice that he was of the opinion that the term must have different meanings when applied in these different categories. Many of the usages which are distinguishable in everyday speech have given rise to corresponding theories about the nature of goodness. Indeed if we survey the history of philosophical speculation about goodness, we find that there are just about as many theories about goodness as there are distinct uses of the word ‘good’. For example, goodness has been variously described as an unique quality, as a consequential property, as a relational property, etc., and the word ‘good’ has been described as a term of commendation or approval, and its attributive, predicative and instrumental senses, to name a few, have been distinguished.

It would be interesting to speculate why particular lines of enquiry flourish and fade. The study of ‘character’ is a case in point. In the '20s and early '30s the study of ‘character’ was quite a flourishing branch of psychology. It then came to an abrupt halt and, until recent times, there has been almost nothing in the literature on the subject. Perhaps it was the notorious Hartshorne and May Character Education Enquiry, and the inferences that were mistakenly drawn from it, that killed it; perhaps it was the pre-occupation with something more general and amorphous called ‘personality’; perhaps it was the mixture of metaphysics and methodological neurosis centred around the rat. Who knows? Anyway, the study of character is very much with us again as is revealed not merely by Riesman's Lonely Crowd but also by the recent study by Peck and Havighurst called The Psychology of Character Development. The British Journal of Educational Psychology has also, for some time, been running a symposium on The Development of Moral Values in Children.

Mr Ninian Smart distinguishes what he calls the Utopia Thesis from the Compatibility Thesis. The latter he formulates as the contention: ‘that causal determinism (i.e. the claim that all human actions are the results of prior causes) is compatible with free will.’ The former is ‘the assertion that God could have created men wholly good’. Smart clearly has his doubts about the truth of this Compatibility Thesis. But his sole aim in ‘Omnipotence, Evil and Supermen’ is to try to show ‘that the Utopia Thesis does not follow from the Compatibility Thesis, despite appearances.’

The chief point in Professor Flew's reply is this. God could have made men perfectly good, not by altering their inclinations, as I suggested in my main Utopia, but by boosting the forces which resist temptations. All men would need is more strength of character and more sense of duty. Perhaps I was psychically blind not to go into this. Let us do so now. (1) Flew seems to have a monolithic idea of the concepts sense of duty and strength of character, as though these have nothing to do with particular dispositions like courage (which I did discuss).

In Philosophy for April 1961 Mr J. R. Lucas argues that Gödel's theorem proves that Mechanism is false. I wish to dispute this view, not because I maintain that Mechanism is true, but because I do not believe that this issue is to be settled by what looks rather like a kind of logical conjuring-trick. In my discussion I take for granted Lucas's account of Gödel's procedure, which I am not competent to criticise.

I Would like to draw attention to the basic defect in the argument used by Mr J. R. Lucas (Minds, Machines and Gödel, Philosophy, July 1961, p. 112).

Mr Lucas there states that Gödel's theorem shows that any consistent formal system strong enough to produce arithmetic fails to prove, within its own structure, theorems that we, as humans (‘minds’), can nevertheless see to be true. From this he argues that ‘minds’ can do more than machines, since machines are essentially formal systems of this same type, and subject to the limitation implied by Godel's theorem.

In an interesting work ‘The Ethical Animal’ Professor C. H. Waddington valiantly attempts to bridge the gap between ‘ought’ and ‘is’ without, it seems, succeeding in doing so. Notwithstanding his erudition, honesty of purpose and charm in exposition, the gulf remains unbridged. Indeed there are passages where it is difficult to be certain whether the author considers that he has bridged it or even what standpoint he finally adopts.

Bridging the gulf between East and West, between developed and underdeveloped countries, between white and coloured races, between the six and the seven, has become a cluster of urgent political problems which have to be solved if disaster is to be avoided. All these problems have ideological implications since the antagonisms are based on different beliefs, ideas, prejudices, theories, and philosophies. Bridging the gap between antagonistic philosophies may strike the politician as being of minor importance, but may, nevertheless, in certain cases be a considerable help.