Osama bin Laden means well. This is evident from his declarations, juridical decrees, lectures, epistles, and written reminders, which Bruce Lawrence has made available in Messages to the World: The Statements of Osama Bin Laden (2005; hereafter referred to by the page numbers in parentheses) a single volume. Duty, Osama claims, compels Muslims' support for jihad against the ‘Crusader–Jewish Alliance’ (7, 23). But many attack his goals and behavior as immoral. Initiatives he has supported or directed represent his strategy for fulfilling his duty and demonstrate its apparent immorality at the same time: notably, attacks on U.S. embassies, the 9/11 attacks, and more recently an alleged plot to detonate hydrogen peroxide bombs in public transportation venues. Moreover, his willingness to kill innocents generally is self-evidently wrong, as is his blanket hatred of Jews, Americans, and Christians (56, 87); although on one occasion he has declared that ‘many in the West are polite and good people’ (142).

Starting from support for James's critique of Clifford's dictum, the article argues for holding beliefs, whether secular or religious, firmly but provisionally, remaining open to fresh experience. This consideration prompts reflection on the debate following the attack on Charlie Hebdo. Alternative beliefs were opposing each other with seemingly equal certainty. The justification for insistence on the right to free speech itself requires scrutiny. The article finishes by noting the baleful effects of the intellectual apartheid which has tended to be practised in the West which presumes that religion and reason have nothing to do with each other.

A few years ago, I, an American, was giving a talk at a political philosophy conference in the United Kingdom. My topic was religion in democratic politics, and I delivered what I thought was a splendid line of argument supporting the idea that religion has at most a highly constrained role to play in democratic politics. The audience was appreciative enough, but during the question and answer session, there emerged the charge that my paper had addressed a uniquely ‘American’ problem, a problem that was not of general significance to political philosophers outside of the United States. I replied that although the political scene in the contemporary United States provides many high-profile examples of the problem I had been addressing, the general problem of religion in politics confronts democracy as such. I then provided some cases from outside America in which the problem shows itself: the public slaying of Theo Van Gough, the controversy surrounding the publication of cartoon representations of Muhammad in Denmark, the reemergence of religiously-affiliated and reactionary political parties throughout Europe, and so on. Yet for the most part my audience remained unmoved.

Philosophers write essays. Nowadays most of them are highly technical and argumentative. They have titles like ‘A Rejoinder to So and So’ or ‘A Critique of Such and Such’. This is somewhat understandable. Like others in my field, as a philosopher, my work is predicated on having interlocutors – all of whom, with a few exceptions, I have never met. This is the beauty of the written word combined with public libraries. Because of printing I can engage the ideas of others from a different time or place; because of libraries I am not excluded from the conversation because of social or economic class.

There is an ongoing public debate about sex, gender and identity that is often quite heated. This is an edited transcript of an informal lecture I recorded in 2019 to serve as a friendly guide to these complex issues. It represents my best attempt, not to score political points for any particular side, but to give an introductory map of the territory so that you can think for yourself, investigate further, and reach your own conclusions about such controversial questions as ‘What does mean to be a man or a woman?’

In the essay I argue that the routine use of contraception is morally tantamount to early-term abortion because it produces the same result: namely, it prevents the creation of a human life that would have otherwise probably taken place. Because it can be shown that contraception is ethically acceptable, it follows that early-term abortion is as well.

People prefer certainty. There's a psychological need to explain events or phenomena rather than accept one's ignorance, to say ‘I don't know’ when faced with insufficient evidence.

People often assume that everyone can be divided by sex/gender (that is, by physical and social characteristics having to do with maleness and femaleness) into two tidy categories: male and female. Careful thought, however, leads us to reject that simple ‘binary’ picture, since not all people fall precisely into one group or the other. But if we do not think of sex/gender in terms of those two categories, how else might we think of it? Here I consider four distinct models; each model correctly captures some features of sex/gender, and so each is appropriate in some contexts. But the first three models are inadequate when tough questions arise, like whether trans women should be admitted as students at a women's college or when it is appropriate for intersex athletes to compete in women's athletic events. (‘Trans’ refers to the wide range of people who have an atypical gender identity for someone of their birth-assigned sex, and ‘intersex’ refers to people whose bodies naturally develop with markedly different physical sex characteristics than are paradigmatic of either men or women.) Such questions of inclusion and exclusion matter enormously to the people whose lives are affected by them, but ordinary notions of sex/gender offer few answers. The fourth model I describe is especially designed to make those hard decisions easier by providing a process to clarify what matters.

A dialogue investigating whether the usual religious defences of belief in God are really up to the job.

A common answer to the title question is: being highly competent in a wide range of academic disciplines, as shown by having a large number of good exam results. Is this acceptable?

In the philosophy of mind, zombies often make an appearance. It seems we can conceive of zombies — beings physically exactly like ourselves but lacking conscious experience. There may not actually be any zombies, of course. But the suggestion that they could exist does at least seem to make sense. Or does it? Robert Kirk investigates.

Can you know something that isn't true?

My argument is that naturalism is too restricted and dogmatic an account of the many different sorts of entities and explanations that we employ in trying to understand our world. It is a faith rather than a mode of inquiry.

This article is my latest attempt to come up with a minimal version of my evolutionary theory of fairness, previously summarized in my book Natural Justice. The naturalism that I espouse is currently unpopular, but Figure 1 shows that the scientific tradition in moral philosophy nevertheless has a long and distinguished history. John Mackie's Inventing Right and Wrong is the most eloquent expression of the case for naturalism in modern times. Mackie's demolition of the claims made for a priori reasoning in moral philosophy seem unanswerable to me.

Tim Crane responds to the several recent attacks on religion made by Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, et al.

It's no surprise that one shouldn't pray for bad things to happen, for it's always wicked to attempt to bring about evil. But perhaps surprisingly one shouldn't pray for good things either. For if there is an Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omni-Benevolent Deity who intervenes at all in the workings of the world, then He will do whatever is best anyway, and if you pray for what He wouldn't otherwise have done then it must, perhaps unknown to you, be wrong. If there is no God then He will not answer your prayers, although they might be efficacious in other ways.

John Shand also critically discusses Sandis' preceding paper.

This article was first presented as a lecture. In it, Hilary Putnam sets out what he thinks is unique about pragmatism, and also what he believes is valuable in it.

When, in the wake of the September 11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in New York more than two decades ago, the late Queen Elizabeth II expressed her sentiments with the words: ‘Grief is the price we pay for love’, she was making a reference to British psychiatrist Dr Colin Murray Parkes's book Bereavement: Studies of Grief in Adult Life. In the book, Dr Parkes states an obvious, albeit often ignored, fact that the pain of grief is just as much part of life as the joy of love. Following the death of the Queen in September 2022, Joe Biden, the current president of the US, used the same quote as an opportunity to express his own personal sadness about her passing. It was also an opportunity to participate in public grief about the loss of a popular leader, and of innocent lives. It is not uncommon for leaders, religious ones including, to speak of love, especially during such poignant moments. But it is somewhat less common for public figures to bring to our attention the close connection between grief and love. Even when they do, grief is commonly seen in a negative light. Philosophers provide another example of what is, I shall argue, a mischaracterization of grief.

The hit American TV show The Good Place has garnered quite a following in recent years. Its main premise implies a scorekeeping view of the afterlife. People who have collected enough credits in their earthly lives will make the cut and go to the Good Place, while those who do not will be banished to the Bad Place. We suggest that such a premise would have to come to terms with Ted Sider's puzzle about the compatibility of a binary afterlife with God's divine attributes.