The word ought is often used to express moral judgments. It is used to express moral laws, as in “We ought to honour our parents”; and it is used to express singular moral judgments, as in “You ought not to have spoken to your mother like that”". Some singular moral judgments are clearly deductions from some moral law, as is “You ought not to have spoken to your mother like that”. Others, however, are not clearly so, e.g. “You ought not to have done that”. Where both the agent and the action are indicated merely by a contextual reference, no underlying moral law is suggested by the words alone. Even when the singular judgment characterizes both the agent and the action, as “You, being a strong man, ought to have gone to his aid”, it may still be quite obscure what, if any, moral law implies this judgment. Clearly there is no moral law that “Every strong man ought always to go to everybody's aid”.

It is often said that human beings have the ability to plan and choose what to do, can think for themselves and have the freedom and the right to form their own opinions on moral questions. Such claims are sometimes expressed by saying that the human agent is autonomous. In this paper we shall try to disentangle various theses about the autonomy of the agent which the common claims do not always distinguish.

The Alleged Turning Point in European Philosophy

Existentialists, especially those who follow either Heidegger or Jaspers, find a great deal objectionable in what they variously call ‘scientism’, ‘scientific rationalism’, and ‘positivism’. In this article I shall discuss one of the alleged defects of scientific rationalism, that it recognizes only one kind of truth—the kind that existentialists call ‘objective truth’. ‘One great achievement of existential philosophy,’ writes William Barrett, ‘has been a new interpretation of the idea of truth in order to point out that there are different kinds of truth, where a rigid scientific rationalism had postulated but one kind: objective scientific truth.’ Not only scientific rationalists but traditional metaphysicians from Plato to Aquinas and Hegel are judged to be equally at fault here: they too have failed to recognize any truth other than the objective variety. It was Kierkegaard who for the first time effectively challenged the assumptions shared by scientific rationalists and traditional metaphysicians. Kierkegaard, in Barrett's words, ‘had to re-open the whole question of the meaning of truth … his stand on the question may well have marked a turning point in European philosophy.’

South. So we have agreed to bury intuitionism. Well, I dare say it is right. But we ought to bury some of the grave-diggers too. Some of the things that Ross said are no doubt wrong, or at least misleading: but they are a lot less wrong than most of the things said since the war.

Still waters, they tell us, run deep; as for philosophy, one who aims at anything like depth cannot always hope to move briskly. Let it excuse my beginning ploddingly, with familiar distinctions. We commonly distinguish what we call mere fact-gathering, however copious, from anything like real understanding; and again, superficial mental quickness from deeper processes, processes, to repeat the truism, that may run comparatively slowly. Philosophers have begun to distinguish too, but barely more than begun, understanding as a performance—I mean an overt linguistic or other behavioural performance—from something else that sometimes happens inwardly. Something happened, presumably, to the Wedding Guest, who on visible evidence only ‘went as one who has been stunned’, but also, presumably, understood.

Can we refer to objects which do not exist? Searle says that we cannot. He postulates an ‘axiom of existence’ such that, if an object does not exist, we cannot refer to it. This ‘axiom of existence’ could be taken simply as a way of defining the notion of ‘reference’; we would not count a reference to a non-existent object as a ‘reference’ in the philosophical sense; or perhaps it might count as a reference but not as a ‘successful’ or ‘consummated’ reference, to use the terminology which Searle sometimes adopts. Whichever way we take Searle's doctrine I wish to argue that it is objectionable. The conceptual scheme he advocates obscures the truth. But I do not deny that there is a temptation to resort to it, and I hope to show that, where lawyers have yielded to the temptation, pernicious doctrines have resulted.

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.

Is it possible to do something intentionally and yet be unconscious of so doing? Many philosophers would answer ‘No’ to this question on the grounds that it is of the essence of intention that if we do something intentionally we do it knowing what we are doing.

An obligation may take either of two forms, each form being reported in a different way. For example, when we report the obligation of parents to care for their children, if it is the moral obligation we mean, we will say ‘Parents ought to look after their children’ but if we mean the legal obligation, we will say ‘Parents have to look after their children’. The law specifies that people shall do thus and so, not that they ought to do thus and so.

In One of the few thoughtful essays that have come out of the controversy about the Republic's political theory, Renford Bambrough draws attention to the basic philosophical issue underlying the controversy in the following manner:

In the following paper, I will be operating within the framework of moral concepts set out by R. M. Hare in his Language of Morals and Freedom and Reason. Using this framework, I shall attempt to show that (a) if we claim that certain attitudes we have toward animals are moral, then the application of the consequences of these principles leads us into a rather bizarre, if not outlandish, position, which few would accept as prima facie moral; and (b) if we adopt what can be accepted as a truly moral position with respect to animals, this will turn out to be indistinguishable in kind, if not in degree, from our morality with respect to humans.

This paper has two parts. In the first, I try to show that Russell's arguments against the thesis of Kant's first antinomy are unsatisfactory; in the second, I argue that the Universe, if transcendentally real, must be finite in both space and time.

A.1. Some philosophers, including Tarski and Russell, have concluded from a study of various versions of the Liar Paradox ‘that there must be a hierarchy of languages, and that the words “true” and “false”, as applied to statements in any given language, are themselves words belonging to a language of higher order’. In his famous essay on truth Tarski claimed that ‘colloquial’ language is inconsistent as a result of its property of ‘universality’: that is, whatever can be said at all can in principle be said in it, with an extended vocabularly if necessary. Thus, in English we can talk about English expressions, what they denote, what they say, whether what they say is true or false, and so on: English contains its own metalanguage. This universality enables us to construct sentences which say of themselves that they are false, and by applying the law of excluded middle to them we easily derive a contradiction. Tarski concludes that ‘these antinomies seem to provide a proof that every language which is universal in the above sense, and for which the normal laws of logic hold, must be inconsistent’ (op. cit., pp. 164—5). He then proposes to avoid such contradictions by the use of a hierarchy of languages such that statements about any one language can be made only in a different language at a higher level.

I wish here to advance the still unfashionable thesis that there can be ‘political experts’ not just in the sense (a) that some people are better than others at practical politics (getting bills passed, etc.), nor (b) that there are experts who can tell us the best means to achieve our ends, nor (c) that some people are expert in reconciling political interests, making good compromises, and so forth. I mean (d) that there are people better equipped than others to decide what is right, in the context of ends as well as means, for a society or a state: the thesis maintained but inadequately defended in Plato's Republic. The thesis does not, of course, entail (e) that these experts are eo ipso entitled to enforce their status as experts, or their decisions, on the rest of us: at most, it would entail that the rest of us would be wise to entrust such decisions to the experts.

Fiction has been of concern to both the aesthetician and the ontologist. The former is concerned with the criteria or standards by which we judge the aesthetic worth of a fictional work, the latter with whether our ontology must be enlarged to include possible or imaginary worlds in which are housed the characters and incidents referred to and depicted in such works. This is a paper on the ontology of fiction. It will attempt to answer these ontological questions concerning truth and reference in fiction by clarifying the use of language. Our paradigm case of the fictive use of language will be one in which the story-teller orally relates the fictional story in the presence of his audience, rather than one in which he inscribes his story so that it may be read at a later date. The value of considering the use of language in a face-to-face situation is that it brings before us in their full explicitness all of the different facets of a speech act, many of which often lie dormant in non-face-to-face uses and therefore are hard to discover from a consideration of such uses.

“Imagine A rather short-sighted person told to read an inscription in small letters from some way off….' So begins the quest for “the real nature of justice and injustice” undertaken in response to the challenge of Glaucon and Adeimantus to show that “justice pays”. It is often alleged that the search leads through analogy to a monster “organic” state that lives by devouring individual rights. I believe that these charges are mistaken. Plato's political theory does not derive from an analogy which makes the state a monster individual with interests superior to and independent of those of ordinary citizens; it derives rather from a doctrine of objective interests discernible by those with special training and ability, interests which later thinkers (and perhaps Plato) have taken to be the object of a “real will”, unerring even where a person's mere empirical desires are shortsightedly misdirected. Plato identifies the interests of his ideal state with the objective interests of its citizens (so they are not independent), and in his harmonious world, metaphysics, moral psychology, and political organization combine to ensure that those interests need never override individual mundane interests (not superior) for they never conflict: they coincide. That the whole theory is dubious should not prevent us from seeing that just what the theory is may be clarified by examining the arguments which putatively lead to it, and that those arguments provide grounds for not confounding Plato's theory with others which may reach similar conclusions about political organization and obligation.

Hume Regards it as a mere “Verbal Dispute” whether or not various “natural abilities” should be regarded as moral virtues. In his Treatise he complains that “good sense and judgment”, “parts and understanding” are classed in all systems of ethics of the day with bodily endowments and ascribed no “merit or moral worth”. Yet if compared with the received virtues, they fell short in no material respect, both sets being “mental qualities” and each equally tending to procure “the love and esteem of mankind’.

Kant's system of Transcendental Idealism may be regarded, in the contemporary philosophical perspective, as concerned with the problem whether any linguistic or conceptual system can be regarded as adequately explained in terms of the facts which the system organises. ‘Transcendental’ may be understood as what is ‘non-reducible’. Kant seems to hold that a linguistic scheme cannot be reduced to the facts which fall within the scheme, and thus it is transcendental to those facts. Formulated in such terms, the Kantian doctrine does not, apparently, propound anything which is new; that facts are tailored to a linguistic scheme is pretty much a well-known doctrine these days. But then, as we shall see, it does say something new; and when we extract that novel element in it, we shall discover also the positive import in the Kantian term, ‘Transcendental’.