Les attaques que Feyerabend a dirigées depuis un certain temps contre les conceptions dominantes de la rationalité scientifique, celles des inductivistes et de Popper principalement, sont intimement liées à sa manière d'envisager l'opposition entre le réalisme scientifique et l'instrumentalisme, c'est-à-dire entre deux thèses concernant les rapports de la rèalité et de la connaissance scientifique. C'est ce dernier point que nous aimerions aborder ici, dans le projet d'y apporter un certain nom-bre de clarifications, qui permettront aussi de montrer que les difficultés que Feyerabend a cru trouver recemment dans la position realiste, et qui ont provoqué une modification de ses conceptions, viennent de ce qu'il n'a pas vu toute l'importance de certaines distinctions.

One of the striking characteristics of contemporary moral philosophy is the speed with which philosophers in the English-speaking world have jettisoned their reluctance to address concrete ethical problems and dilemmas and have plunged into the field of applied ethics. No less interesting is the impact that the work of some of the more noted of them has had outside of strictly philosophical circles. One need only to mention John Rawls or H. L. A. Hart to make the point. It is no longer difficult to prove that these same trends are deeply entrenched amongst Canadian philosophers. A further parallel is suggested by the fact that a Canadian philosopher, George Grant, has also had a substantial impact on recent Canadian thought. The appearance of a parallel, however, is illusory. For while applied ethics certainly has its practitioners in Canada today, and while it is widely recognized that both American and British philosophers have had a substantial and philosophically respectable impact on their respective societies, there seems widespread resistance to the idea that philosophical reflection has a role to play in the development of a distinctive understanding of Canadian society. And there is widespread scepticism in professional philosophical circles in Canada that the work of George Grant is of genuine philosophical interest, whatever his popular reputation.

Nous savons bien aujourd'hui que, dès l'Antiquité, le Corpus Aristoteli-cum a été constitué, mis en ordre et commenté de manière à faire ressortir, en tout, la cohérence des doctrines du Stagirite, dont ses écrits, tels qu'il nous les a laissés, ne portaient pas la marque évidente. Le sentiment que ce travail de mise en forme, poursuivi par la tradition, devait avoir oblitéré quelque chose de la nature de la pensée aristotélicienne conduisit à soulever la question qui sert d'intitulé à la présente étude.

Dans des notes de 1941, publiées en annexe à son cours sur Schelling, Heidegger met en relief trois significations bien distinctes du titre Sein und Zeit. Ce titre serait, en premier lieu, le nom d'un événement dans l'être lui-même; ensuite, le mot d'ordre d'une méditation au sein de l'histoire de la pensée; enfin, le titre d'un traité qui tente un parcours de cette pensée. L'ouvrage intitulé Etre et temps doit done être distingué de la « nécessité » qu'indiquent l'événement et la méditation historiale Sein und Zeit. Quatorze ans après sa publication, Sein und Zeit est devenu un événement de l'être lui-meme ainsi qu'une balise de l'histoire de la pensée occidentale. La projection, apparemment présomptueuse, de Etre et temps dans l'histoire de l'ětre reléve-t-elle de l'auto-interprétation tardive du second Heidegger ou etait-elle déjá à la racine de l'oeuvre de 1927, le chef-d'oeuvre philosophique du vingtième siècle? Dequel droit, plus généralement, le titre d'un livre peut-il se déclarer événement de l'être? Afin de répondre à de telles questions, il faut, bien sûr, avoir compris, ou entrevu, ce que signifie la formule Sein und Zeit. Titre assurément énigmatique, même s'il ne se constitue que de vocables très familiers. « Etre », « temps », « et »: autant de mots que nous employons tous les jours, sinon dans toutes les phrases. Mais « être et temps »? Quel est le sens d'un titre pareil? Cette étude se propose d'esquisser une réponse à cette question en cernant l'horizon des questions délimité par ce titre en 1927 en vue de saisir pourquoi, depuis les bases posées dans Sein und Zeit, ce titre en est venu à circonscrire un événement de l'être et un tournant de la philosophie.

Various philosophical accounts of function attributions have taken the following form: f is a function of a structure X in a system S if and only if X does f in S and f causally contributes to G. While sharing this form, these accounts disagree over how “G” is to be specified. Specifications of “G” range from the fairly determinate (e.g., “the reproductive capacity of S”, or “the survival of S”) to the less determinate (e.g., “some goal of S” or “some good of S”). Although much of the debate over functions has been concerned with the proper characterization of “G”, it has become apparent that theories which fit this schema are subject to now-standard counterexamples in which f does in fact causally contribute to the realization of G, but f fails to be a function of X in that f's contribution is accidental in nature. Consider, for example, goal-state theory according to which f is a function of X in S just in case f contributes to the realization of some goal of S. Imagine that Jones has a silver dollar in his shirt pocket which deflects a bullet meant for his chest. Assuming that the coin is in Jones's pocket for reasons unrelated to his goal of continued existence, although the coin contributes to this goal, it does not have the function of “bullet deflector” since its contribution is merely accidental. We can easily generate similar counter-examples for other theories which fit this schema but differ in how “G” is specified. I will call this the problem of “accidental G-generating effects”. Counterexamples of this type have put pressure on theorists to modify this schema or at least to add additional conditions in order to rule out “accidental functions”. In this paper I will first examine various modifications which have been suggested for avoiding this type of counterexample, and then develop a new approach to the question of “accidental functions”.

Some writers about the history of philosophy in Canada have wondered why it should be studied. That is a worthy question, but it is not the one I want to discuss here. I am going to assume there are good reasons for doing so because I want to consider some general features of the subject of such studies and to determine what has to be done to establish certain descriptive claims about it. I will also point out some concerns I have about the proper explanation of certain interesting features of Canadian philosophic activity, and I will present a brief evaluation of one major study. I will do this with the aid of a contention that the study of the history of an intellectual discipline is a little like an evolutionary study of a biological species, but I will close by pointing out one reason for doing history which goes beyond description, and even explanation, of the past.

In Putnam's theory of reference, an historical component and an indexical one both play some part in establishing the extension of terms, although in “The meaning of ‘meaning’” it is not altogether clear just how important he believes the historical element to be. He seems to be much more interested in its indexical component, which he believes plays more or less the same role in his theory as rigidity does in Krip-ke's. In this paper, I will look more closely at these two elements and see what sorts of roles they could play in a theory like Putnam's. A theory of the extensions of general terms will emerge which differs from Putnam's in some important respects. It does, however, have some similarity with a recently published theory of Matthen's, but the arguments are different. I will also outline a theory of essences and kinds, which is based on this modified version.

In his recent book, Harm to Others, Joel Feinberg addresses the question whether a person can be harmed after his or her own death, that is, whether posthumous harm is a logical possibility. There is a very strong tendency to suppose that harm to the dead is simply inconceivable. After all, there cannot be harm without a subject to be harmed, but when death occurs it appears to obliterate the subject thus excluding the possibility of harm. On the other hand, there is an inclination to believe that harmful events can indeed occur posthumously. As Aristotle observed, “a dead man is popularly believed to be capable of having both good and ill fortune—honour and dishonour and prosperity and the loss of it among his children and descendants generally—in exactly the same way as if he were alive but unaware or unobservant of what was happening”. Feinberg sides with Aristotle on this issue and develops an intriguing theory purporting to show how posthumous harms are possible. My intention in this paper is to argue that Feinberg's account meets with such serious difficulties that we must either develop an alternative theory or agree with those who claim that death logically excludes the possibility of harm. I shall begin in §2 with a brief sketch of Feinberg's provocative theory. This will be followed in §3 by my comments and criticisms. Section 4 will close with suggestions about where Feinberg's account goes wrong and how it might be repaired.

In this paper I propose to examine a notion often used in assessing the morality of war: “innocence”. Assessments of innocence within this context range from Nagel's straightforward working definition of ”currently harmless”, to Richard Wasserstrom's painstakingly legalistic assessment, to Anscombe's definition and discussion of innocence and responsibility.

Le professeur Pelletier de l' Université Laval propose dans cet ouvrage une traduction nouvelle du premier traité de 1'Organon aristotélicien, habituellement désigné par le titre Catégories. Le changement dans le titre exprime certes plus qu'un choix arbitraire de traduction; il va de pair avec une interprétation de ce qui est en jeu dans la théorie des «catégories». Si ce changement devait être suivi, il entraînerait une réécriture de chapitres importants de l'histoire de la philosophie, ancienne et moderne. Je doute cependant que ce tournant soit pris, car, comme nous le verrons à l'instant, il ne s'impose nullement.

The author struggles to come to grips here with the philosophical complexities and personal tragedies that disorient us when we reflect on the great and pervasive inequalities in human societies. His egalitarianism is radical in denying the justice of the inequalities that liberals like Rawls would countenance, and in denying that justice and capitalism are compatible. Nielsen displays a masterly knowledge of the literature of social justice, especially that which bears on Rawls's A Theory of Justice and Nozick's Anarchy, State and Utopia, the celebrated philosophical flagships of liberalism and conservatism respectively; this feature of the book should be useful for advanced students of social and political philosophy who need to acquire a sense for the texture of contemporary argument in the field. The thicket of sturdy arguments in Equality and Liberty should convince Rawlsians to accept many tenets of Nielsen's radical egalitarianism, or else to re-examine their thinking about social justice. And the extended critique of Anarchy, State and Utopia should persuade Nozickians of the need for “a reasonably sophisticated political sociology and a sound critical theory of society” if one is to philosophize adequately about social justice (5). Many will find this critique the most valuable part of the book.

Mr. Mathien asks for evidence that there is Canadian philosophy in a special sense. He is not concerned with questions about whether people who were Canadians, or lived out much or most of their working lives in Canada, wrote philosophy which deserves to be taken seriously. Rather, he asks whether what has gone on in Canada by way of philosophy can be assembled in such a way as to make a coherent discipline.

Kai Nielsen is perhaps the most prolific of contemporary philosophers in Canada, as well as one of the most interesting. There are three salient aspects of his philosophy: his Marxism, his anti-foundationalism, and his particular brand of atheism. (The point of that last phrase will become clear in due course.) Among a large number of objections which I have to Nielsen's arguments and conclusions, one in particular stands out. I do not see how anti-fideism can consistently be combined with anti-foundationalism. The essence offideismis that one does not deem it necessary to rationally justify one's (typically religious) position, but one just “plumps for” it. But any justification of a (religious or other) position appears to involve appeal to foundations. Either the reasons in accordance with which a belief or set of beliefs is to be accepted can at least in principle be spelled out; or the belief or set of beliefs is arbitrary and unjustified. Nielsen needs to grasp the former horn of the dilemma to attack religious beliefs in the way he does; but to do so necessarily involves the foundationalism which he also attacks. A lot of the special quality of Nielsen, as a philosopher, comes out in the devices with which he covers over this intellectual crevasse.

One stands in awe of this book, and of its display of erudition, acumen, wit, elegance, taste, and uninhibited failure to suffer fools gladly. Michael Tanner in lectures at Cambridge in 1961 remarked of the then recently published Aesthetics by Monroe Beardsley that in a sense one did not need any other book in aesthetics. Now, one will be sorely tempted to say exactly the same thing about TTTA. The claim would in either case be a mistake. To understand, however, the reason why in either case the claim would be a mistake, and to understand why it would in the case of Sparshott's book be a mistake for a reason very different from that for which it would in the case of Beardsley's book be a mistake, will be to understand Sparshott's consummate and unrepeata-ble achievement in TTTA. I shall return to this topic explicitly at the end of this review, though implicitly I shall never leave it.

I am grateful to Josiane Boulad-Ayoub and Wesley Cooper for their generous treatment of my Equality and Liberty and for their probing criticisms. They make me keenly aware that I have often not expressed myself clearly enough and they have set in motion a process of self-questioning that will extend well beyond this discussion. They drive home to me, once again, the realization of how difficult it is to get anything right in philosophy.

Since they, for the most part, raise different sorts of issues, I shall discuss their criticisms separately starting with Cooper's account.

One major part of Representing and Intervening is completely without blemish. In it we find Ian Hacking busy puncturing received opinions about science in his usual lucid and engaging style. If you think, for instance, that scientists decide what exists by passively observing the passing show, Hacking has news for you. Similarly, if you think that experiments exist just to test theories, or that science begins and ends with theories, or that within science as practised there is even any univocal rendering of the term “theory”, you are equally on the verge of surprise.

Since its coinage in the eighteenth century, the concept of ideology has been recurrently invoked as a tool of analysis, a term of abuse, or both together. The concept is central to the theories of Marx, Mannheim, and others, and the whole subject of the sociology of knowledge is an elaboration upon it. But just what the concept is meant to convey is normally so unclear or controversial, even question-begging, that it is natural to want to dispense with the concept entirely. That, in part, was what the advocates of the end-of-ideology—like Raymond Aron, Edward Shils, and Daniel Bell—urged back in the 1950s. But these would-be defenders of reason, pragmatism, and political centrism were almost immediately and quite predictably attacked for themselves being the victims or purveyors of an ideology. Whether or not they were, the lesson is evident: the issues of ideology are not likely to go away.

Contemporary philosophers have laboured long and hard over the “is-ought” problem (Can moral judgments be derived from purely factual judgments?) and the definition of “moral” (Can moral judgments be derived from purely factual judgments with the addition of à definition of morality?). As a result, it is something of an intellectual shock to find Peter Singer informing the philosophical community that their efforts have been in vain. The importance of Singer's criticism has not gone unnoticed. And others have made the central claim of Singer's criti-cism, but not with such force and clarity.

In their History of Canadian philosophy, The Faces of Reason, Leslie Armour and Elizabeth Trott introduce the concept “philosophical federalism” to describe a tendency shared by many of the early Canadian idealists, a willingness to attempt to understand and accommodate philosophical positions opposed to their own. In this paper I wish to examine the relationship this concept bears to another one, which many still regard as merely an Utopian ideal, that of world federalism.

From the time of Reid through Coleridge to T. H. Green, Hume was interpreted as a sceptic and as a wholly negative philosopher. And from their perspective such an interpretation no doubt makes some sense, given the vested interest in religion and the absolute of the idealists: from that perspective it is an essential part of a positive position that it take one beyond the realm of ordinary objects known by sense experience to a realm of entities that transcend that world of everyday life. That interpretation lingers on, like bad jokes, to retail in Philosophy 100 classes. On the other hand, in an age where the demand that one have access to a transcendent entity is less insistent, it has become possible to challenge the orthodox reading of Hume. The first to do this was Norman Kemp Smith, who argued that, while Hume was a sceptic, he in fact also had a positive view, not to be sure that of Reid & Co., but that of a naturalist, that is, one who holds that our beliefs, and our moral commitments, are none of them rational, none of them products of reason, but rather are products of our instinctive and passionate natures. This interpretation continues to have important defenders such as Popkin and Stroud. More recently, however, some scholars have gone further and argued that there are good senses in which Hume is not a sceptic, and that he constructs a case that our instinctual beliefs are not only natural but also rational. Major works defending this reading of Hume as a naturalized epistemologist are those of Livingston and Jones. The Kemp Smith interpretation has, however, found a major new defender in John Wright's The Sceptical Realism of David Hume.