J. R. Lucas serves warning that he stands ready to refute any sufficiently specific accusation that he is a machine. let any mechanist say, to his face, that he is some particular machine M; Lucas will respond by producing forthwith a suitable Gödel sentence ϕM. Having produced ϕM, he will then argue that — given certain credible premises about himself — he could not have done so if the accusation that he was M had been true. let the mechanist try again; Lucas will counter him again in the same way. It is not possible to accuse Lucas truly of being a machine.

This paper is a study of the theory of judgement and truth found in the works of F. H. Bradley. Although Bradley's thought underwent some changes during the forty years he wrote on these topics there seems to be only one change, viz. his abandonment of the so-called 'floating ideas' which is of any significance.

Might something I do now make something have happened earlier? This paper is about an argument which concludes that I might. Some arguments ([3], [27]) about “backward causation” conclude that the world could have been the kind of place in which actions make things have happened earlier. The present argument says that it is that kind of place: that we actually are continually doing things that really make earlier things have happened. The argument is not new (see e.g. [31]). It sees temporal direction as logically independent of any direction which necessary and sufficient conditions may have and it sees causal direction as properly deriving from the latter. Thus the directions of time and of making things happen need not coincide and, as it turns out, do not actually coincide in fact. There are examples of events which are sufficient, in a suitably rich sense, for the occurrence of earlier events; hence they make the earlier events happen. My purpose in this paper is to lend support to the argument by filling in some details which ‘backward sufficient conditions’ may lay claim to.

What is it to be a hypocrite? Gilbert Ryle's answer is the by now commonly held one: to be hypocritical is to “try to appear activated by a motive other than one's real motive”; again, it is “deliberately to refrain from saying what comes to one's lips, while pretending to say frankly things one does not mean.” Can this be the right answer? My aim is to show that it cannot. In doing this I hope to gesture towards a richer understanding of our notion of hypocrisy.

In his book, Taking Rights Seriously Prof. Dworkin argues that all elements of society — citizens, legislature, and courts — ought to be ‘taking rights seriously’ in reaching decisions both about the actions and design of public institutions. This has two aspects. First in accord with traditional rights-centred views, there are certain ways of treating individuals that rights rule out. Formally, rights are ‘political trumps held by individuals’; they deny society certain kinds of access to collective goals (xi). Materially, rights can be seen as an expression of equal concern for each citizen as a human being; to deny a right is to ‘insult’ a person by failing to treat him as an equal of other persons, that is, as deserving the same basic respect as others. Secondly, and in contrast to the traditional natural rights view, Dworkin presents a particular way of reasoning about rights that does not presuppose their existence as Platonic entities; instead, rights are discovered in the process of constructing a theory which plausibly accounts for both the letter and the spirit of our society's institutional actions.

It is a terrible fact of this time, not much lessened by there having been similar facts in the past, or by the likelihood of there being more in the future, that men make uses of destructive force against persons and things, force condemned by ordinary law but directed to changing societies in certain ways. Certain of these changes in societies, although typically they are sought for themselves, may be taken to make for progress toward a certain goal, well-being for all persons without exception, all persons in whatever societies. The uses of force related in this way to the goal of well-being are of a general course political violence of the Left. My purpose in this essay is to say some things in advocacy of a certain response, in good part a sceptical one, to the general moral question of what is to be said against such violence, and what for it.

There is an account of the soul's capacity to activate its body which is frequently attributed to Descartes and, so far as I know, has only once been said not to represent his opinion on this topic. I shall refer to it with, I hope, pardonable exaggeration as the standard account. The earliest attributions to Descartes of the standard account, which I have been able to discover, are in various writings by Leibniz; there is a rather full version in his “Explanation of the New System of the Communication of Substances” (1696):

A theory is developed explaining how beliefs, and derivatively intentions and perhaps the other propositional attitudes, find their objects. Beliefs about particular objects are divided into two kinds. Attributive beliefs find their objects purely through the mediation of contained descriptive content, while referential beliefs connect directly with their objects via a causal connection. This distinction is explicated in terms of complementing semantic and epistemic differences, and details of the causal connection are explored.

There is nearly universal agreement that coercion is an evil. Even when it is necessary to avoid a greater evil or to attain some good, it is still a necessary evil. There is also nearly universal agreement that, other things being equal, one ought not to exercise coercion. Here the agreement ends. There is little agreement about just when coercion is justified. More surprisingly, there is little agreement about what coercion is. This latter controversy is more fundamental, and this paper is an attempt to shed some light on it.

What are the objects of the so-called ‘propositional attitudes’ — belief, desire, and the like? One of the best-known accounts holds them to be sentences. According to this account — which I shall call the ‘linguistic theory’ — an analysis of the logical form of a sentence like

• (1) John believes that the moon is round

will see the word ‘that’ as a hidden pair of quotation marks: except for niceties of idiom, (1) might be written

• (2) John believes ‘the moon is round’.

(2) asserts that a certain relation, the ‘believes’-relation, holds between John and the sentence ‘the moon is round’.

Intuitionism is most commonly defined in terms of various strong epistemological and metaphysical presuppositions, e.g., that true moral principles are synthetic a priori propositions, known by some special faculty of moral reflection, and the like. I shall not here be concerned with such views. Rather my focus will be upon the program for normative investigation which I have elsewhere argued is implicit in the intuitionists’ writings and which I take to be intuitionism's salient characteristic.

Though left and right are fundamental terms of our social and political vocabulary, perhaps indeed the ultimate dividing concepts of ways of life on the earth today, their meaning seems to be as obscure as their application is ubiquitous.

Criticism of Locke's account of personal identity has proceeded cumulatively. Three years after the publication of the chapter “Of Identity and Diversity”, John Sergeant raised an objection which, in Bishop Butler's hands, was to become famous as the dictum that “one should really think it self-evident that consciousness of personal identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, personal identity: any more than knowledge, in any other case, can constitute truth, which it presupposes”. Berkeley added, in effect, that when consciousness is taken to be the criterion of personal identity, one must admit that a man conscious of segments of his life at some times and not at others both is — because “conscious of” states a transitive relation — and is not — because of lack of consciousness—the same person.

In Taking Rights Seriously, Ronald Dworkin defends the thesis that some, at least, of the rights people have, and in particular the most fundamental rights such as free speech and religious freedom, are “rights against the state”. By this he means that they identify modes of action that (a) individuals ought to be permitted to carry out, and (b) interference with which ought to be banned, even if a majority in the society prefer that the actions be prohibited or prefer some other condition achievement of which would require prohibiting them.

Despite significant advances in various special areas in the study of language, the question of what the basic nature of the theory of a language is remains controversial and unclear. In this paper we propose to rectify this situation and argue for a general perspective — one which only a few theorists have explicitly endorsed — by showing that it is at once theoretically illuminating and empirically plausible. This perspective consists of the following claims: (1) that the most basic theory of a language is a theory of communication viz., of understanding and production; (2) that a theory of communication in this sense presupposes a theory of thought; (3) that a grammar is most fruitfully thought of as (in a suitable sense) a component of a theory of communication; and (4) that so-called theories of meaning form a rather heterogeneous group, some of which being fragments of grammars, others being theories of thought, and still others being what are sometimes referred to as theories of reference. We shall be particularly concerned with (1) and (3) here.

Some philosophers believe that appeals to promoting or maximizing good consequences are a suspect way of attempting to justify coercive interference with another person's actions. Suppose that is true. If there is a presumption that individuals have a right not to be coercively interfered with, then, foregoing utilitarian type appeals, it would seem that the only way to justify coercive interference of a paternalistic sort would be to show that under certain conditions the presumption fails.

Aristotle states in Metaphysics Z13 (1038b9-11) that nothing said universally τῶν ϰαϑόλου λεγομένων is substance (οὐαία), rather the substance of each thing is particular to it (οὐαία ἐϰάστου ὴ ίδιος ἐϰάστῳ). The natural interpretation of this statement is that being said universally is a sufficient condition for not being substance. But this claim is very perplexing since it is the key premiss in the following apparently inconsistent set:

1. (1) Form is substance.

2. (2) Form is universal.

3. (3) Nothing universal or said universally is substance, rather the substance of something is particular ἴδιος to it.

Edward Erwin has recently argued against the thesis that the concepts a priori truth’ and ‘necessary truth’ are extensionally equivalent. (Following Erwin, I shall refer to this thesis as the ‘Extensional Equivalence Hypothesis’ or, for short, E. E. H.) This thesis consists of two logically independent claims: (1) all a priori truths are necessary; and (2) all necessary truths are a priori. Erwin leaves the first claim unchallenged and elects to devote his efforts exclusively to undermining the second. The brunt of his attack on the second claim rests on alleged unclarities in the concept of an a priori truth. He attempts to show that the E.E.H. cannot be defended upon any plausible interpretation of this concept. Although I agree that the E.E.H., as stated above, is open to Erwin's objections, I shall argue that a slightly revised version of it can be defended against these objections.

In this paper, I want eventually to get around to proposing a criterion of identity for events which are changes in physical objects, where events are construed as comprising a distinct metaphysical category of thing. The proposal will be preceded by a discussion of what I take to be a mistaken suggestion for such a criterion; I will do that because I think that seeing what it takes to show why that suggestion fails helps to motivate a theory about what it is to be an event; and that theory wi II supply the conceptual foundations for my proposal concerning the criterion of identity for events. Before that suggestion is discussed, however, I want to discuss briefly an aspect of the question, Why do we have to give a criterion of identity for events, or for objects of any sort whatsoever? I want to have a brief look at the connection between identity criteria and the idea of a kind of object.

A central tenet of modern Legal Positivism is the claim that “the existence of the law is one thing, its merit or demerit another.” I shall call this “the Positivist dictum.” Jeremy Bentham, the first and perhaps the greatest of the English Positivists, announced this doctrine in his early Fragment on Government, when he distinguished the “Expositor” of the law—who “explains what the law is” and “shows what the Legislator and Judge have done” — from the “Censor” — who instructs us in “what the law ought to be.”