One of the things for which Kierkegaard is both best known to English and American philosophers and most criticized by them, is his contention that “truth is subjectivity.” His discussion of “truth” and “subjectivity” occupies a considerable part of his most important philosophical work, Concluding Unscientific Postscript; and his contention that “truth is subjectivity” is the pivotal claim around which virtually the entire work revolves. Yet few of Kierkegaard's claims have been more frequently misunderstood; and a misunderstanding of this claim has led many philosophers wrongly to dismiss him as unworthy of serious consideration.

There was a duel at dawn between A and B. A shot B, who lingered on until dusk of that day, and then died of his bulletwound. Certain background conditions are satisfied (it doesn't matter now what they are) which make it right to say not just that A caused B's death but that he killed him. So, A shot B and killed him. This seems to be structurally different from "A shot B and he kicked him," but what is this structural difference? How does the shooting relate to the killing?

What is a good man, and how does he become good? My aim in this paper is to unravel and to assess Plato's and St. Paul's very different answers to these questions. The pivotal texts are the Republic and Paul's Epistles.

A good man, according to Plato, is a man who is dikaios (righteous, just), temperate, wise, and courageous. A just man is one each one of the three parts (elements, components) of whose soul is doing its own [work, ergon]. We must pause a moment at the crucial passage in 441 DE. Cornford's translation of it is somewhat ambiguous. “ ... each one of us likewise will be a just person, fulfilling his proper function, only if the several parts of our nature fulfil theirs.” According to this rendition Plato may be construed to be saying that a human being is doing his own work as a just person only if each part of his inner nature (=soul) is doing its own work.

Admettons comme hypothèse de travail pour les besoins de la discussion qui va suivre que les jugements moraux ne sont pas fondés sur des valeurs objectives, sur des propriétés naturelles des choses, des actes ou des hommes, ni sur les volontés d'un Etre supréme quelconque; admettons qu'ils relevènt ultimement de decisions individuelles, que chaque homme est sur le plan logique (mais pas nécessairement au plan des faits) libre de décider des principes en vertu desquels il entend guider sa vie. La question qui se pose est la suivante: ces jugements concernant ma propre vie sont-ils logiquement universalisables? Le sont-ils nécessairement? Le sont-ils parfois et à quelles conditions? En d'autres termes, le fait qu'au plan moral je valorise tel type d'action doit-il m'amener à poser que les autres “devraient” également valoriser le même type d'action? La logique du discours moral me permet-elle de poser des valeurs uniquement pour moi-méme?Ou au contraire le jugement (moral): “je devrais agir de telle façon” entraîne-t-il le locuteur à adhérer à cet autre jugement: “X (ou toute personne), dans des circonstances semblables, devrait (moralement) agir de la même façon”?

Discussion concerning the meaning and analysis of “punishment” has centered, in large measure, on claims for a logical connection between “punishment” and “guilt.” However, more and more in the literature focus has shifted from guilt as the defining feature of “punishment” to guilt as only one of many constitutive conditions satisfaction of which is necessary for standard cases with allowance made for other correct, though secondary, uses of the term.

Knowing what one wants. Is there any truth to the story that if you don't know what it is, then you can't want it? Well, I see, off to the right, in half-light, something that may or may not be an F: I can't really tell, and I don't much care. Perhaps my appetite for the unknown is not entirely normal, but I find that, whatever it is, I want it. Even if it turns out to be a particularly nasty or revolting or un-recherché thing, a G say, it will still be true that I wanted it, though it is neither something that I now want nor what I would have wanted it to be; and though I won't want it any longer and regret it's turning out to be a G, it is still, even to my discomfort, something that I once wanted.