Since Kaplan's “Demonstratives,” it has become common to distinguish between the character and content of an expression, where the content of an expression is what it contributes to “what is said” by sentences containing that expression, and the character gives a rule for determining, in a context, the content of an expression. A tacit assumption of theories of character has been that character is autonomous from content - that semantic evaluation starts with character, adds context, and then derives content. One consequence of this autonomy thesis is that the rules for character can contain no variables bound by content-level operators elsewhere in the sentence. Tacit appeal to this consequence features essentially both in Jason Stanley's recent argument, in “Context and Logical Form,” that all contextual ambiguity must be linked to “elements in the actual syntactic structure of the sentence uttered”, and in my arguments against character-based theories of complex demonstratives in my “Complex Demonstratives.“

This is not an overly ambitious paper. What I would like to do is to take a thesis that most people would regard as wildly implausible, and convince you that it is, in fact, false. What's worse, the argument I shall give is by no means airtight, though I hope it's reasonably convincing. The thesis has to do with the fuzzy boundaries of terms that refer to familiar middle-sized objects, terms like ‘Kilimanjaro’ and ‘the tallest mountain in Africa.’ It is intuitively clear (though not beyond doubt — see Timothy Williamson's book Vagueness) that Kilimanjaro has a fuzzy boundary, so that there are some clods of earth at the base of the mountain for which there isn't anything, either in our practices in using the word ‘Kilimanjaro’ or in the facts of geography, that determines an answer to the question whether the clod is a part of Kilimanjaro.

Supervenience is a relationship which has been used recently to explain the physical determination of biological phenomena despite resistance to reduction (Rosenberg, 1978, 1985; Sober, 1984a). Supervenience, however, is plagued by ambiguities which weaken its explanatory value and obscure some interesting aspects of reduction in biology. Although I suspect that similar considerations affect the use of supervenience in ethics and the philosophy of mind, I don’t intend anything I have to say here to apply outside of the physical and biological cases I consider.

The main point of this paper is that there is a property of biological systems which makes it both misleading and inappropriate to reduce central biological phenomena to the properties of underlying components. Despite this, reductive explanation has been a major source of innovation in biological theory. The apparent tension can be resolved if underlying properties are explanatorily relevant to the higher level phenomena even though the latter are not strictly reducible to the former. Supervenience, I will argue, is not robust enough to deny reduction while supporting explanatory relevance.

Kant discussed the moral wrong of treating people as mere means or as a means only. To treat people as means is to treat them as objects for our use. It is to objectify them. To treat people as a mere means is to treat them wholly as objects, rather than partially so. It is to have an objectifying manner that is absolute or unmitigated. Whether Kant meant to suggest that we commit a moral wrong only when we treat people as means absolutely, rather than partially, is debatable. My concern is with how feminist theorists writing on the objectification of women have followed Kant in emphasizing the extreme case of the mere means. These feminists have implied that the moral wrong of objectification occurs only with absolute objectification, as though between it and respecting someone's autonomy there were no degrees of objectification that are morally suspect.

The relevant feminist work centres on such topics as women's reproductive freedom, their sexual freedom, and gender equity in employment.

In Republic X.605c-607a, Plato makes what he says is the greatest accusation against imitative poetry: ‘We have not yet made the greatest accusation against it [sc. mimetikē ]. For the fact that it is able to harm reasonable people, except for a very few, is surely most terrible’ (605c6-8). What follows is a subtle theory of audience psychology. Plato accuses the poet of creating special circumstances in which knowledge of what constitutes moral virtue is not an adequate protection against wrong-doing. The poet does not merely give us false beliefs, as a sophist does, he attacks the very order of the soul.

This new charge depends on those preceding it, in which the poet was said to make things ‘third from the truth’ and to deceive the ignorant in a way analogous to that in which the painter makes children and fools think that a painted carpenter is a real carpenter, if they see it from afar (598c). We must begin by examining this important analogy.

Immanuel Kant was an early and influential theorist on race. What place a theory of race could have within his system is, however, far from clear. Empirical knowledge about human diversity seems not to be the kind of thing that may find its way into morally acceptable maxims. Kant's understanding of the a priori nature of the moral seems to prevent any account or theory of human difference from leading to prejudice or discrimination. On the other hand, Kant defends race it-self as an a priori concept, and the specific content of his anthropology seems to justify the exclusion of non-whites from moral concern in a new and dangerous way.

Perhaps the most pervasive conviction within the Western epistemological tradition is that in order for a belief to constitute knowledge it is necessary (though not sufficient) that it be epistemically justified: that the person in question have a reason or warrant which makes it at least highly likely that the belief is true. Historically, most epistemologists have distinguished two main sources from which such justification might arise. It has seemed obvious to all but a very few that many beliefs are justified by appeal to one’s experience of the world. But it has seemed equally obvious to most that there are other beliefs, including many of the most important ones that we have, which are justified in a way which is entirely independent of any appeal to such experience, justified, as it is usually put, a priori, by reason or pure thought alone.

Evidence provided by the scientific community strongly suggests that limits should be placed on greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions. This means that states, firms, and individuals will have to face potentially serious burdens if they are to implement these limits. Which principles of justice should guide a global regime aimed at reducing greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions originating from human activities, and most notably from CO2 emissions? This is both a crucial and difficult question. Admittedly, perhaps this question is too ambitious, given the uncertainties and complexities characterizing the issue of climate change. Yet, rather than listing them all at this stage, let us address the question in a straightforward manner, introducing some of these complexities as the need arises.

In his book The Conscious Mind David Chalmers introduced a now-familiar distinction between the hard problem and the easy problems of consciousness. The easy problems are those concerned with the question of how the mind can process information, react to environmental stimuli, and exhibit such capacities as discrimination, categorization, and introspection (Chalmers 1996, 4; 1995, 200). All of these abilities are impressive, but they are, according to Chalmers, not metaphysically baffling, since they can all be tackled by means of the standard repertoire of cognitive science and explained in terms of computational or neural mechanisms. This task might still be difficult, but it is within reach. In contrast, the hard problem — also known as the problem of consciousness (Chalmers 1995, 201) — is the problem of explaining why mental states have phenomenal or experiential qualities. Why is it like something to ‘taste coffee,’ to ‘touch an ice cube,’ to ‘look at a sunset,’ etc.? Why does it feel the way it does? Why does it feel like anything at all?

Imagine a democratic society in which all members are full citizens and citizens relate to each other as equals. Social arrangements bring it about, to the maximum possible extent, that all adults are full functioning members of society. The society is not marred by caste hierarchies, invidious status distinctions, or unequal power relations. No one is able to dominate others. Moreover, the urge to dominate over others does not loom large in social life. Each person's relations with others manifest the belief, shared by all, that each person is fundamentally the equal of all others and that this equality calls for treating others with civility and mutual respect and forbearance. Each is viewed as having the right to live as she chooses, within broad constraints of morality. This individual entitlement to freedom establishes a strong presumption against paternalism, restricting a person's liberty against her will for her own good. Regarding distributive justice, the norm is that each should be enabled to have enough by way of resources and opportunities to sustain herself as a full functioning member of democratic society.

Critical response to John Rawls's The Law of Peopleshas been surprisingly harsh) Most of the complaints centre on Rawls's claim that there are no obligations of distributive justice among nations. Many of Rawls's critics evidently had been hoping for a global application of the difference principle, so that wealthier nations would be bound to assign lexical priority to the development of the poorest nations, or perhaps the primary goods endowment of the poorest citizens of any nation. Their subsequent disappointment reveals that, while the reception of Rawls's political philosophy has been very broad, it has not been especially deep. Rawls has very good reason for denying that there are obligations of distributive justice in an international context.

A former Prime Minister of Israel is alleged to have said that her country would never ascend to the status of authentic statehood until it possessed certain well-known social attributes — organized crime, prostitution, and corruption. These features, while obviously undesirable, were she felt, reliable indices of societal maturation. This anecdote is suggestive in understanding current events pertaining to the field of applied ethics.

Philosophers have produced a massive body of opinion and argument on a diverse range of subjects under the rubric of applied (or practical) ethics. Moreover, they have assumed positions on various panels, commissions, governmental bodies and committees in the hope of making an informed contribution to the formulation of institutional and public policy. These accomplishments have begun to elicit the kinds of attributes commonly associated with philosophical maturation — exposées, debunkings, refutations, and ideologically informed critiques.

In English-speaking universities, political philosophy has long been dominated by two moral outlooks, the Judgment of institutions by the utility they create and the Judgment of institutions by conformity to rights held to be binding apart from their consequences. In the history of philosophy, Marx and Aristotle are the most striking and attractive contrasts to both alternatives. As against rights-based morality, both Judge institutions by the kinds of lives they promote and Judge proposed rights by assessing the consequences, of embodying them in institutions. At the same time, their general conceptions of the kinds of lives worth promoting are highly similar, and emphatically opposed to utilitarianism. In short, as political philosophers they are non-utilitarian consequentialists.

The secession issue appears to many contemporary thinkers to reveal a fatal flaw in the idea of national self-determination. The question is whether national minorities who come to want to be politically self determining should be allowed to separate from the parent state and form one of their own. Here the idea of national self-determination may lead us in one of two opposing directions. If the minority group in question regards itself as a separate nation, then the principle seems to support its claims: if the Québécois or the Catalans come to think of themselves as having national identities distinct from those of the Canadians or the Spanish, and to seek political independence on that basis, then if we are committed to national self-determination we should support their claims. But we then face the challenge that once national identities begin to proliferate there is no feasible way of satisfying all such claims, given elementary facts of geography and population spread.

Pragmatists challenge a sharp separation of issues of theoretical and practical rationality. This can encourage a sort of anti-realism: our classifications and theories are shaped by our interests and practical concerns. However, it need not do this. A more fundamental theme is that cognition is itself an activity, the attempt to solve problems and discover truths effectively and responsibly. Evidence has to be collected, experiments have to be devised and carried out, dialogues must be engaged in with fellow inquirers, decisions must be made about when we have scrutinized our opinions enough to trust our results. Even if our goals are “purely cognitive,” the attempt to achieve them through inquiry and deliberation is an activity. The normative standards that guide its conduct, like those governing any activity, will include standards of practical rationality. Indeed, we might suggest that a belief is justified so long as it is the product of responsible, well-executed inquiry.

Now, we stand outcast and starving,

Mid the wonders we have made… .

(From ‘Solidarity Forever,’ by Ralph Chaplin)

I belong to a school of thought which has been called analytical Marxism. Some of the partisans of this position, and that includes me, are deeply engaged by questions in moral and political philosophy which have not, in the past, attracted the attention of Marxists. We are concerned with exactly what a commitment to equality requires, and with exactly what sort of obligations productive and talented people have to people who are relatively unproductive, or handicapped, or in special need. We seek a precise definition of what exploitation is, and we want to know exactly why it is wrong.

Assumptions about what it is to be human are implicit in most philosophical reflections upon ethical and epistemological issues. Although such assumptions are not usually elaborated into a comprehensive theory of human nature, they are nonetheless influential in beliefs about what kinds of problem are worthy of consideration, and in judgments about the adequacy of proposed solutions. Claims to the effect that one should not be swayed by feelings and loyalties in the making of moral decisions, for example, presuppose that human beings are creatures whose nature is amenable to guidance by reason rather than emotion and are creatures capable of living well when they act as impartially as possible. Analogously, claims to the effect that knowledge, to merit that title, should be acquired out of independent cognitive endeavour uncluttered by opinion and hearsay, suggest that human beings are creatures who can come to know their environment through their own unaided efforts. And claims to the effect that knowledge, once acquired, is timelessly and universally true depend upon assumptions about the constancy and uniformity of human nature across historical and cultural boundaries.