The Eleatic Principle or causal criterion is a causal test that entities must pass in order to gain admission to some philosophers’ ontology. This principle justifies belief in only those entities to which causal power can be attributed, that is, to those entities which can bring about changes in the world. The idea of such a test is rather important in modem ontology, since it is neither without intuitive appeal nor without influential supporters. Its supporters have included David Armstrong (1978, Vol2, 5), Brian Ellis (1990, 22) and Hartry Field (1989, 68) to name but a few.

Clearly though, if such a principle is to be anything more than just a statement of a certain version of physicalism, it must be argued for. In this paper I will look at the arguments that have been put forward for the principle and suggest some problems for each of these.

A certain order or stability of nature has often been seen as a necessary presupposition of many of our scientific practices, in particular of our use of information gained in one kind of circumstance to explain or predict what happens in quite different situations. John Maynard Keynes and, more recently, Nancy Cartwright have argued that these practices commit us to the existence of stable ‘atoms’ or ‘natures’ or ‘tendencies.’ The phenomena we observe in nature are, on this view, the result of superimposing the invariable, context-independent effects of all the different tendencies involved.

It is a noteworthy achievement of Western liberal democracies that they have largely relinquished the use of force against citizens whose lifestyles offend their members’ sensibilities, or alternatively which violate their members’ sense of truth. Toleration has become a central virtue in our public institutions. Powerful majorities are given over to restraint. They do not, by and large, expect the state to crush eccentrics, nonconformists, and other uncongenial minorities in their midst. What precipitated this remarkable evolution in our political culture?

The road to toleration originates in the debates provoked by religious dissent in the early modem period. This road was paved in part by a grudging appreciation of the necessity for pragmaticaccommodation. The wars of religion that had devastated the Continent educated the political classes about the costs of persecution. A policy of state-imposed religious intolerance was widely understood to be imprudent.

In the early modem period there occurs, however, a shift in the arguments adduced in support of the duty of toleration.

In this paper I want to explore, and suggest a theoretical explanation of, an apparent asymmetry governing some of our most basic ethical judgments. I also want to use this asymmetry to probe into the relative plausibility of ‘moral character’ and ‘volition’ based accounts of moral responsibility. Briefly, my argument will be that, with suitable modifications, the latter type of account succeeds just where the former, the more Aristotelian approach, breaks down.

Consider, first, a series of acts exemplifying the same vice.A person, say, is repeatedly late or is consistently selfish. Now our tendency here, surely, would be to view such acts as increasingly blameworthy — increasingly worthy, one might say, of some form of punishment (or, perhaps better to say, worthy of increasingly severe punishments) — as they are repeated.

In his papers ‘Semantic Paradox (1979)’ and ‘The Liar Paradox: Tangles and Chains (1982),’ Tyler Burge provides a hierarchical solution to the Liar paradox. And in his paper ‘Epistemic Paradox (1984)’ Burge extends his hierarchy approach to the epistemic paradox of belief instability, which I shall explain shortly. Although Burge's views on the Liar paradox have been widely criticized (e.g., Gupta 1982, Grim 1991), his views on the paradox of belief instability have not received notable attention (except Conee 1987). In this paper I shall argue that Burge's proposal is inadequate as a solution to the paradox of belief instability. For this purpose, I shall criticize Burge's claim that a circular evaluation of a thought (or a belief) is impossible, which is crucial for his proposal. The question of whether or not a circular evaluation of belief is possible is of its own philosophical interest as well.

The validity of argument by disjunctive syllogism (henceforth, DS) has been denied by proponents of relevant and paraconsistent logic (who are sometimes one and the same). DS is stigmatised for its role in inferences — most notably C.I. Lewis's derivation of that fallacy of irrelevance ex falso quodlibet (EFQ) — that involve both it and other rules of inference governing disjunction, or, to speak more precisely, other rules of inference taken to apply to the very same disjunction that obeys DS. In avoiding these inferences the road less travelled is to deny the identity rather than to deny DS: what follows is, then, an exercise in disjoining disjunctions.

In much of his writing in the philosophy of mind, John Searle has been highly critical of what N. Block refers to as ‘The Computer Model of the Mind’ — the approach that treats the mind as a symbol-manipulating device akin in spirit, if not detail, to the modem computer. Searle refers to this philosophical approach as ‘cognitivism.’ The extent of his skepticism and animus toward the computer model of the mind is plainly apparent in the following quotation from Searle: ‘I used to believe that as a causal account, the cognitivist's theory was at least false, but I am now having difficulty formulating a version of it that is coherent even to the point where it could be an empirical thesis at all’ (The Rediscovery of the Mind [Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press 1992], 215). In what follows, I shall attempt to show that this charge of incoherence is unfounded.

Most of us accept that we have special obligations to our family members: to, e.g., our parents, our siblings, and our grandparents. But it is extremely difficult to offer a plausible grounding for such obligations, given the apparent fact that (at least most) familial relationships are not voluntarily entered. I did not choose to be my mother's daughter or my brother's sister, so why suppose that such facts about me are morally significant? Why suppose that I owe more to my mother or to my brother than natural duty requires that I do for all and any persons? Special obligations appear more problematic the less the relationships that supposedly generate them are akin to the relationship between promiser and promisee, a voluntarily assumed relationship. Thus, for example, special obligations to friends might appear less problematic than do those to family members, because it seems that we voluntarily choose our friends, and, thus, voluntarily choose to bear more for them than natural duty requires.

Game theorists assume that rational defensibility is a necessary condition for moral, social, or political justification. By itself, this is a fairly uncontroversial claim; most moral or political philosophers would agree. And yet game theorists tend to be advocates of the free market. External critics of game theory usually claim this is because game theorists assume that individuals are atomistic and self-interested. Game theorists themselves deny this, however, for what strike us as good reasons. In principle, game theory has no necessary ties to right-wing distribution schemes. Why, then, is game theory almost exclusively the province of conservative philosophers, political scientists, and economists? The problem, we believe, lies in the theory of rational choice standardly employed by game theory. Even if we accept, for the purposes of argument, game theory's account of the justification of moral dispositions — that a disposition is morally justified if and only if, in its absence, it would be game theoretically rational to acquire it — we need not be led to right-wing solutions. If we expand the kinds of choices facing individuals to include choices about what we will call ‘institutional roles,’ then we can explain the game theoretic rationality of the kinds of emotions and behavior exemplified by duty, loyalty, and love.

In a dense and fascinating article of some ten years ago, Toomas Karmo adds his voice to the chorus of philosophers who deny the possibility of soundly deriving ‘ought’ from ‘is.’ According to Karmo, no derivation containing an ethical conclusion and only non-ethical premises can possibly be sound, where ‘sound’ describes a deductively valid derivation all of whose premises are true. He also suggests that the only valid derivations of ‘ought’ from ‘is’ will be trivial ones. His argument has, to my knowledge, gone unrebutted; on the contrary, it has won recent endorsements, some philosophers evidently believing that he has finally put to rest the issue of the logical autonomy of ethics. Against that trend, I intend to rebut his argument, both by falsifying the taxonomy on which his argument relies and by offering a nontrivial and potentially sound ‘is’-‘ought’ derivation of my own.

Serious doubts about nonreductive materialism — the orthodoxy of the past two decades in philosophy of mind — have been long overdue. Jaegwon Kim has done perhaps the most to articulate the metaphysical problems that the new breed of materialists must confront in reconciling their physicalism with their commitment to the autonomy of the mental. Although the difficulties confronting supervenience, multiple-realizability, and mental causation have been recurring themes in his work, only mental causation — in particular, the specter of epiphenomenalism — has really captured the interest of philosophers in general in recent years.

This growing attention has spawned a large body of literature, which it is not our aim here to explore or assess. Rather, we want to call attention to what we believe is a new and quite different argumentative strategy against epiphenomenalism voiced in some recent articles by Tyler Burge and Stephen Yablo. Each has challenged two central assumptions of the existing mental causation debate.

Une question très discutée chez les interprètes de Wittgenstein est celle de savoir comment comprendre le paradoxe au sujet des règles dont il parle dans le paragraphe 201 des Recherches philosophiques. Ilécrit: ‘Notre paradoxe était le suivant: une règle ne pourrait déterminer aucune conduite parce que n'importe quelle conduite pourrait être mise en accord avec la règle’ (PU § 201). Un peu plus haut, il faisait dire à son interlocuteur: ‘“Mais comment une règle peut-elle m'apprendre ce que je dois faire en ce point? Peu importe ce que je fais, cela pourra s’ accorder suivant une interprétation ou une autre avec la règle “’ (PU § 198).

Ever since Immanuel Kant suggested that ‘the problem of setting up a state can be solved even by a nation of devils’ so long as citizens’ selfish tendencies worked to counterbalance one another (Immanuel Kant, ‘Perpetual Peace,’ Hans Reiss, ed., Kant's Political Writing [New York: Cambridge University Press 1970], 112), critics have complained that liberalism is indifferent to individual character and, worse still, is predicated on the notion that citizens ought to be concerned primarily with their private interests and little, if at all, with the public weal. Lately, this line of criticism has been pressed with renewed force by theorists who argue that liberal states can flourish only if citizens develop the distinctive virtues that, ‘taken together … constitute a disposition to foster, support, and participate in liberal political institutions,’ but that liberal states committed to neutrality with respect to the good cannot realistically expect their citizens to develop these virtues.

While many philosophers have found Hegel's critique of Kantian ethics to be interesting in certain respects, overall most tend to find it rather shallow and to think that Hegel either misunderstands Kant's thought or has a rather crude understanding of it. For example, in examining the last two sections of Chapter V of the Phenomenology— ‘Reason as Lawgiver’ and ‘Reason as Testing Laws’ (where we get an extended critique of the categorical imperative)- Lauer finds Hegel's treatment to be truncated and inadequate. The only trouble, though, is that like most other readers of the Phenomenology, Lauer does not recognize that Hegel had been examining and criticizing Kantian ethics throughout a much greater part of—indeed, more than half of—Chapter V. Once we do understand this, I think we must concede that Hegel's treatment is hardly truncated and that it cannot be described as shallow or inadequate. I will try to show that Hegel demonstrates a rather sophisticated understanding of, and gives a serious and thorough critique of, Kantian practical reason.

Donald Davidson has two central aims in his celebrated paper ‘Mental Events.’ First, he argues for the impossibility of ‘strict … laws on the basis of which mental events can be predicted and explained’ (ME, 208). I shall call the resulting view ‘mental anomalism.’ Second, he argues, based partially on this impossibility, for a version of monism which holds that every (causally interacting) mental event is token-identical with some physical event. This second aim puts constraints on how the argument for mental anomalism can plausibly proceed. That argument cannot assume anything that presupposes monism or adversely affects the argument for it. When elaborated, this constraint by itself rules out otherwise attractive conceptions of how the argument for mental anomalism works. More generally, in order to be compelling, the overall argument for anomalous monism ought not to incorporate excessively controversial presuppositions even if they do not themselves beg any questions about monism. The argument needs to be built upon relatively intuitive premises.

Attribué à Brandon Carter, l'argument de l'Apocalypse (Doomsday Argument, soit DA, dans ce qui suit) a été décrit par John Leslie. On peut formuler ainsi cet argument. So it A l'événement: l'Apocalypse se produira avant l'an 2150; et B l'événement: l'Apocalypse ne se produira pas avant 2150. Soit également Z l'événement: j'ai connu les années 1990. On peut par ailleurs estimer à 40 milliards le nombre d'humains ayant existé depuis la naissance de l'humanité, jusqu'à notre époque: soit H1996 un tel nombre. On peut ainsi admettre, de manière raisonnable, qu'un humain sur dix, dans le cas de l'événement A, aura connu les années 1990; on admettra de même qu'un humain sur 1000 aura connu les années 1990, dans le cas de l'événement B. Si l'on considère maintenant, que la probabilité de A est de 0,01 alors que la probabilité de l'événement B est de 0,99, on peut poser la question: qu'est-ce qui rend plus probable que je sois ici en 1996?