Most of the standard arguments against the retributive theory of punishment are hardly new. That the retributive view of punishment is but a rationalization of a primitive urge for revenge; that the retributivists, instead of providing an answer to the question about the source of our moral right to add a new evil (punishment) to an already perpetrated one (the crime), simply assert dogmatically that punishment is an intrinsic good, i.e. something that needs no further moral justification; that it is impossible to apply the lex talionis in practice; that the retributivist thesis that the criminal has a right to punishment is absurd, because the criminal himself would be the first to deny that he has any such right; that the retributive theory is incompatible with the claims of forgiveness and mercy; that the practical consequences of the theory are conservative, the theory itself being in fact an apology for the existing laws and the existing social order; that the Hegelian idea of punishment as a ‘negation’ or ‘annulment’ of crime is either unintelligible or essentially utilitarian in character–most of this had been said already in the last century, or even earlier. All these arguments are still in use.1 But in recent literature–in a number of papers published in the last twenty years or so–we find a new argument against the retributive theory. It is only natural that this particular argument should not have been used earlier: methodologically it is typical of a philosophical orientation which emerged only in our century–analytical philosophy.

In her paper ‘Is it True What They Say About Tarski?’, Susan Haack argues that Popper is wrong to regard Tarski's theory of truth as a correspondence theory of truth. For, she says:

… Tarksi does not present his theory as a correspondence theory. In fact Tarski explicitly comments that the correspondence theory cannot be considered a satisfactory definition of truth. And later he observes that he was ‘by no means surprised’ to learn that, in a survey carried out by Naess, only 15 per cent agreed that truth is correspondence with reality, while 90 per cent agreed that ‘It is snowing’ is true if and only if it is snowing (p. 324).

Philosophers have taken some salutary exercise in recent years—notably in this journal—on the question of the rights of non-human animals and the obligations of human to non-human individuals and species. In so contentious an area there has been striking unanimity on two aspects. One of these is that, irrespective of the merits of the arguments on specific issues, this is a matter which is bound to affect the conduct of our lives. The other is that, other things being equal, it is prima facie wrong to be cruel to animals.

Fr. Bernard Lonergan's writings have not so far received much discussion in British philosophical journals, although they contain one of the most fully-developed contemporary presentations of Catholic Christianity and have a substantial and distinctive philosophical content. They have not lacked theological commentators, both in print and in conferencediscussions. The present article has three aims: to draw attention to Lonergan's work and its philosophical relevance; to notice the publication of his latest book, Method in Theology, and to venture some critical comments on certain arguments about the intelligibility of being, being and the good, and God, in his book Insight (published first in 1957). These arguments are central to Lonergan's account of theism, a theism which, in its orthodox Roman Catholic form, is presupposed by Method in Theology. The books are organically interrelated. One admirer of Lonergan described the newer book (before its appearance) as ‘the book [Lonergan] originally set out to write’.

The aim of this paper is to motivate and solve a puzzle regarding the intuition that just as in the absence of perceptual experience we lack an important kind of understanding of sensory properties like colour, in the absence of affective experience we lack an important kind of understanding of value. The puzzle consists in understanding how can a property pertaining to the experience of the subject i.e. the affective component of emotional experience, provide us with a distinctive epistemic access to, and therefore an understanding of, properties that are instantiated by objects distinct from the experience i.e. the evaluative property of the object of experience. I argue that solving the puzzle necessitates us to commit to a metaphysical view of value according to which affective experience and evaluative properties are related by explanatory circularity. The upshot of the paper is that affective experience provides us with the sort of understanding of value that motivates the generation of evaluative concepts.

In this paper I develop a critique of Kantian ethics, and more precisely a critique of a particular conception of moral reasoning. The fundamental assumption that underlies the conception that I am targeting is that to justify (morally or otherwise) an action is (perhaps with an ‘all things being equal’ clause) to settle its value, in such a way that all rational participants would have to acknowledge that value. As an alternative to the Kantian conception, I propose a conception in which the basic unit of moral reasoning is not an action but rather what I call an ‘ethical position’—where an ethical position is where, at any given moment and with respect to the matter at hand, you stand, and where moral reasoning consists in the articulation of ethical positions.

Introduction

There is an enormous amount of confusion about what relativism is. In this paper I aim to take a step toward clarifying what it is by discussing some things that it is not — that is, by distinguishing it from some other views with which it is often confused or conflated, such as nihilism and scepticism. I do this primarily because I think that the question of the character of relativism is interesting in itself. A clearer characterization of relativism would also be important instrumentally, however, as before we can accurately assess relativism we must have a clear idea of what it is. The secondary aim of this paper, then, is to function as a prolegomenon to an assessment of relativism. The tertiary aim of the paper is to make a few observations about the view which most clearly stands opposed to relativism, the view which I will call ‘objectivism.’ Because relativism is often confused with views like fallibilism and pluralism, objectivism often finds itself unjustly associated with views like infallibilism and political authoritarianism. (If this paper had a subtitle, it would be: ‘And What Objectivism Isn't.’) Although it is not the point of this paper to criticize relativism, I should make it clear that it began as a part of an anti-relativistic project, and, although anti-relativism is not necessarily objectivism, I should perhaps make it clear that I am more than a little sympathetic to the latter type of view.