The Concept of Hierarchy, as well as various problems, aspects and doctrines attaching to it, was preposterously overrated in Greek philosophy, especially Platonic and Neo-platonic; probably even more so in medieval Scholastic philosophy which attempted to rationalize its supernaturalistic obsession with arguments taken from Greek, chiefly Aristotelian and thus semi-Platonic perfectionalism as a putative “natural” basis for it. Some great exponents of the modern German philosophy of Value, Scheler and Nicolai Hartmann, represent the same tradition in a doubtless more critical and more properly philosophic, less naively metaphysical, but still in a pretty dogmatically intuitional fashion. The counterpart to this we find to be rampant in modern English-speaking philosophy dominated by the thought-style of Logical Positivism, though many of its more recent representatives would disown that label. Mouthpieces of an egalitarian, machine-ridden and (at least apparently) utilitarian and functional society intolerant of the idea of kings, aristocrats, slaves, serfs, even rich and poor nay literate and illiterate, these thinkers idolize human “wanting” as such, whatever its contents and characteristics, would reduce all value to “needs” or “desires” and their different “intensities” and in their turn, I venture to say, seek preposterously to evade the very concept of Hierarchy, not only on the plane of social philosophy but also in the context of Axiology. They postulate a flattened world from which the experience of Verticality is all but wholly excluded.

It is necessary that, if the world is divided into nations, conflicts should arise in which there is no strong argument against terrorism or repression. By a strong argument I mean one that would sway all minds not blindly partisan, without moral commitments that are unusual or outlandish in the modern world and with as much aversion to violence as most people have. So I do not here consider, because it is unusual, heroic and absolute pacifism, much as I respect it; on the other hand I do mention Christian moral objections applying specially to terrorism because it seems somewhat outlandish even now to ignore the Christian element in our tradition.

The word ‘dualism’ can be used to pick out at least four different theories concerning the relationship between mind and body.

(1) A mind and a body are two different entities and each is “had” by a man. A man is thus a composite being with two components, one “inner”, the other “outer”. You, for example, are a man and your mind is “inner” in the sense that you alone can reflectively experience yourself thinking, or feeling pain, or seeing colours (or at least that you alone can reflectively experience your own thoughts, feelings and visual experiences). I can in a sense observe you thinking, but only by observing you use your body in certain ways—e.g. to make certain sounds, write certain things, look at the pages of an open book and frown. My “experience” of you thinking (or of your thoughts) is thus not a reflective experience. Your body is “outer”, on the other hand, in the sense that you cannot experience it or its (non-relational) properties in any exclusive way. That is, in whatever sense you can be said to experience your body, someone else can equally be said to experience it.

The object of this paper is, as the title implies, to investigate the relation of Plato’s thought to natural science. More especially, it is intended to examine the widely held view that Plato’s influence, owing to the character of his beliefs, was necessarily and positively unfavourable to the development of natural science, as we know it at the present day.

There are many difficulties connected with the notion of punishment, but perhaps it is not disputed that it is at least a deliberate infliction of pain of one kind or another. Of course, that is not an adequate description of its nature, but so far as it goes it seems to be a true one.1 And the idea that it could be morally right deliberately tp inflict pain on another, unlike, for example, the idea that it is morally right to tell the truth, is so manifestly intolerable unless we look beyond the infliction of pain itself that we are tempted to leap forward to the question, “What is the justification of such action?” before making quite explicit to ourselves what it is, over and above its being the deliberate infliction of pain, that constitutes the action punishment at all. The questions “Why hurt?” and “Why punish?” are confused with one another. No doubt some distinction between them is present vaguely in everyone's mind and the confusion may not be in fact serious: but anyhow it is a defect and should be remedied.

Following observations of Aristotle, Kant, Newton, Leibniz and Einstein (on space), we can devise a means of showing how the ontology of time supports the precedes-succeeds logic, which the temporal series shares with those of space and number, and how the past-present-future account is consistent with that. Time, by a relativist, not absolutist, account, turns out to be the existence and nonexistence of exactly the same thing in exactly the same respect. Both A and not-A can be the case, but not at the same time. On the relativist view their both being the case constitutes time. This turns out to be, in the most general sense, a causal theory of time.

A reply to Landau's objections to the author's earlier ‘An Argument against Marriage’ (Philosophy, 78, 2003, 79-91). In particular it is argued that ‘working’ at a relationship is valid only when there is a relationship to be worked at; it cannot, as Landau urges, be a reason for maintaining a relationship which has ceased.

I propose to fashion this paper after the pattern of a conventional sermon. That is, I shall begin by taking a text, and shall then elaborate on it. My text is a sentence of Whitehead, and it reads as follows: “It is more important that a proposition be interesting than that it be true; the importance of truth is that it adds to interest.” To my knowledge Whitehead makes this identical remark at least twice in his writings. It appears in Process and Reality. And it appears again, word for word, several years later in Adventures of Ideas. The fact that he thus says it twice, in identical words, suggests to me that he is himself immensely pleased with it, and that he values highly the thought which it expresses. At this I am not at all surprised. For it seems to me that the remark enshrines one of those sudden flashes of insight for which Whitehead is famous, and which stamp him as, not merely the ordinary very clever or very learned man, but the man of genius. Speaking for myself, I can record that when I first read this remark it produced in me a sudden thrill, a sense of illumination, of the opening of new vistas, not wholly dissimilar to the thrill which, as a very young man, one felt when one first read certain stanzas of Shelley or Wordsworth.

The question why we are ‘bound’ by moral requirements is as old as it is fundamental. Its interest is both practical and theoretical. Its practical interest comes out in this way: nothing is easier—at least on occasion—than to disregard the restraints imposed by morality. In submitting to them we must often forgo what we would otherwise desire. A man may have sacrificed much in the interests of ‘behaving well’. He may wish therefore to know whether his sacrifice has been foolish. It is only reasonable to ask why we are ‘bound’, if indeed we are. Scepticism on this point is not merely playful. We want to know the reason (at least in outline) for accepting moral restraints. I say ‘at least in outline’ because just as it may be reasonable to act on your doctor's advice although you do not understand his reasons in detail, so it may be reasonable to accept advice on some moral matter although you do not understand its justification in detail.

Utilitarians believe that personal decisions and public policies should be made so as to maximize the public good, or, as Jeremy Bentham put it, to produce the greatest good of the greatest number. Bentham identified the public good with the maximization of happiness, and believed that many traditional practices were inimical to the production of happiness. So in the name of maximizing the public good, Bentham advocated, for example, extending the franchise, reforming the criminal code and re-designing prisons. People's prejudices and traditional habits of thought must yield in the face of utilitarian-inspired reforms.

What is the connection between a representation, such as a painting, statue or engraving, and its subject? For example, what makes a painting a painting of McX? The problem is not how to paint McX, which belongs to art experts. So the answer is not, for example, ‘The painter starts at the top with an egg-shape for the head …” The question is rather: what makes the results of such efforts a painting of McX? What conditions must a painting satisfy to warrant such a description? What is the force or meaning of the word ‘of’ in phrases like ‘painting of McX’?

For a century or so after his death Hegel's system excited, if not wider diversity of interpretation and more bitter controversy, then certainly more bewilderment, than had ever before befogged the battlefields of speculative thought. A few fervent disciples maintained that their master had achieved a system substantially if not in all detail final and complete, a philosophy destined to set at rest forever all serious philosophic doubt. Others agreed that this claim to finality was inherent in the system, but mocked openly, proclaiming Hegel an arrogant megalomaniac.

Many would consider the lengthening debate between moral realists and anti-realists to be draw-ish. Plainly new approaches are needed. Or might the issue, which most broadly concerns realism in relation to normative judgments, be broken down into parts or sectors? Physicists have been saying, in relation to a similarly longstanding debate, that light in some respects behaves like waves and in some respects like particles. Might realism be more plausible in relation to some kinds of normative judgments than others?