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Shelley was an adherent to the basic tenet of empiricism, that ‘the senses are the only inlets of knowledge’. Yet he also affirmed that there are things we only ‘feel’ to be true. Rooted in Hume’s distinction between ‘impressions’ and ‘ideas’ – between sensory perceptions and the pictures in our minds, distinguishable only by the relative strength of their appearances – Shelley developed the notion of an ‘inward sense’ that guides us in our feelings or intuitions and discerns between real and ideal things. Above and beyond the philosophy of the British empiricists and the scepticism of Hume, yet rooted in their works, Shelley also developed in his verse a notion of what it would mean for an ‘idea’ to outstrip an ‘impression’ – for the world of the imagination to surpass the real thing, and for poetry to offer up ideas of greater force than empirical reality.
This article argues that Hume’s epistemology changes in an important respect between the Treatise and the Enquiry: the degree to which these epistemologies are practical epistemologies. This article focuses on one particular aspect of this latter comparison, that is, Hume’s responses to skepticism in the Treatise and Enquiry. It argues that the Enquiry’s response to skepticism offers a practical epistemology that teaches us, in relatively concrete terms, how we can be wise. By contrast, the Treatise’s response to skepticism does not seem to share this aim, or at least realizes it to a diminished extent compared with its later counterpart.
With development understood as improving change, and working at the macroscale or species level, I sketch the conceptual background for a new, developmental form of scepticism. Then I use developmental scepticism to critique a proposition that functions as a presupposition of the popular contemporary rejection of unconventional metaphysical propositions (MUPs) and specifically of panpsychism: namely, that we have experienced enough relevant development as a species to make it reasonable for the community of enquiry to treat such ideas as obviously false. Finally, I briefly suggest a possible step beyond developmental scepticism toward a more general orientation in enquiry which might naturally follow such scepticism once its motivating ideas are absorbed.
Taking its start from an argument of H. S. Versnel, that Greek expressions of disbelief in the existence of the gods are evidence of the possibility of belief, this article reviews the evidence of such expressions, and of ascriptions of atheism in Greek sources, and suggests that there was a difference of type, not only of degree, between Greek ‘atheism’ and our understanding of the term today. Atheist discourse in Greek sources is characterized by frequent slippages: for example, between the charge of ‘existential atheism’ and the failure to give the gods due acknowledgement; between introducing new gods and disrespecting the old. Ascriptions of atheism to third parties are commonly based on inferences from an individual's actions, lifestyle or presumed disposition – which in turn are rooted in a network of theological assumptions. The phenomenon of ‘Greek atheism’ is, fundamentally, a scholarly mirage.
Kant’s aim in the Transcendental Deduction is to prove that the a priori categories of the understanding necessarily apply to objects of experience. He claims that he will do this simply by explaining how they could so apply. But the idea that a mere explanation of this possibility should provide a defence of the categories’ actual (let alone necessary) applicability is surprising. We argue that it can be understood by attending to the source of the scepticism that the Critique’s Analytic is supposed to overcome: Hume’s inability to explain causal knowledge in the Enquiry.
Philosophers have struggled to explain the mismatch of emotions and their objects across time, as when we stop grieving or feeling angry despite the persistence of the underlying cause. I argue for a sceptical approach that says that these emotional changes often lack rational fit. The key observation is that our emotions must periodically reset for purely functional reasons that have nothing to do with fit. I compare this account to David Hume’s sceptical approach in matters of belief, and conclude that resistance to it rests on a confusion similar to one that he identifies.
Is there philosophy in Hume’s Essays? In this contribution, I argue that the form of the Essays implies an ongoing philosophical project with a significant sceptical difference from the systemic form of Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature. There is evidence in the Essays that Hume thought of himself thinking philosophically in these works, even if philosophy is narrowly conceived as the search for general principles associated with the ‘abstruse philosophy’ of the Treatise and Enquiries. The distinction between the forms of the Essays and the form of the Treatise indicates, however, that the Essays are not merely continuing the Treatise’s project. The pedagogy of the Essays, revealed in their form, teaches that philosophy is an ongoing project, a sceptical search that is sceptical even about its limits, rather than the system that the young Hume was confident could be completed within the boundaries of a treatise. There is not philosophy in the Essays. The Essays are philosophy.
Hume’s ‘four essays on happiness’ are distinctive in Hume’s oeuvre, and not merely in the 1741 volume of Essays, Moral and Political in which they appeared. They are written in the style of philosophical monologues, with Hume ‘personating’ a representative of each of the main, late Hellenistic philosophical sects in turn. Each such representative, however, engages critically with the philosophical positions staked out by his rivals and antagonists. The ultimate question each of the philosophical sects seeks to answer is: what is the true end (summum bonum) of human life, and where is true contentment to be found? Scholars have tended to be preoccupied with the question of which sect best articulates Hume’s own underlying philosophical commitments. This chapter argues that such an approach is mistaken, because Hume dismissed the quest for the summum bonum altogether. Hume presented all the late Hellenistic philosophical sects as capturing something important about human life, and about the purpose of philosophical activity. Yet ancient moral philosophers had ultimately failed to develop the ‘science of man’ that Hume took to be the greatest achievement of modern philosophy. The four essays, then, reveal Hume’s keen – and lifelong – interest in the history of moral philosophy, and his attentiveness to the distinctive (and superior) character of modern approaches to the discipline.
An overview is offered of Wittgenstein's groundbreaking discussion of knowledge and certainty, especially in his final notebooks, published as On Certainty. The main interpretative readings of On Certainty are discussed, especially a non-propositional/non-epistemic interpretation and a variety of propositional and/or epistemic interpretations. Surveys are offered of the readings of On Certainty presented by such figures as Annalisa Coliva, John Greco, Danièle Moyal-Sharrock, Duncan Pritchard, Genia Schönbaumsfeld, P. F. Strawson, MichaelWilliams, and CrispinWright. This Element demonstrates how On Certainty has been especially groundbreaking for epistemology with regard to its treatment of the problem of radical scepticism.
Assessments of Lucian’s attitude towards philosophy have tended to focus on how much he really knew about philosophy, which school he preferred, and if his texts can be read as philosophy. This chapter argues that Lucian’s attitude is best understood as reflecting the central position philosophy occupied in imperial elite culture. As Lucian satirises elite paideia from within that same paideia, criticising imperial philosophy implied assuming a philosophical stance or appropriating philosophical concepts and vocabulary. Lucian explores themes that were current in philosophical discourse of the Roman Empire, such as the expectation of matching doctrine and deed, salaries for philosophical education, and ancient wisdom. Whilst he shows awareness of technical terminology, his writings are mostly concerned with protreptic and the question if one has to dedicate oneself fully to a philosophical life. His ubiquitous satire, even in works deemed ‘more serious’, does not permit firm conclusions about Lucian’s own ideas and solicits multiple interpretations on the part of the reader.
This chapter examines the irony, complexity, and pleasure in rhetorical ingenuity evident in the satirical essay in English, taking as its central exemplars some of the key historical figures in that tradition in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, from the Irish authors Jonathan Swift and Maria and Richard Lovell Edgeworth through to the Romantic essayists Charles Lamb, Thomas De Quincey, and Thomas Love Peacock. It demonstrates how the prose essay became a powerful satirical form in the Georgian period, and discusses the tonal richness and ambiguity which render the satirical essay a key subgenre in the tradition of the prose essay in English. It pays particular attention to the links between satire, colonialism, the Gothic, and the sublime in the form of the essay.
The flourishing of the essay as a protean literary form in an age marked by growing interest in essaying systematic knowledge reflects a tension within eighteenth-century empiricism. Two divergent subgenres emerged from this tension. The conversational essay, first, drew upon a Montaignian tradition rooted in scepticism, dialogue, and performative rationality; these essays were associated with a form of pragmatic empiricism at ease with the idea of human knowledge as intersubjectively constituted in the public domain. On the other hand, the systematic essays of the Enlightenment, spurred on by John Locke’s attempt to establish ‘order’ in intellectual inquiry, deployed the essay as an instrument for establishing Universal Truth and what Leibniz termed ‘demonstrative knowledge’. In considering the epistemology of the eighteenth-century essay in Britain, this chapter explores not only how this bifurcated empiricism influenced the development of the essay, but also the ways in which the essay reconstituted empiricism itself.
In ‘Platonist Notions and Forms’, Mauro Bonazzi explores an aspect of the Platonists’ engagement with Stoic epistemology, namely the Platonists’ appropriation of the Stoic ennoiai, conceptions or notions, to show that Plato’s doctrine can provide a satisfactory answer to the problem of the foundation of knowledge, which Stoicism has proved unable to solve. The Stoic ennoiai, (conceptions) or phusikai ennoiai (natural conceptions) are notions naturally arising in the human mind and constituting the basic elements of human reason. They are ‘natural’ in the sense that humans are naturally disposed to acquire them, and they are koinai (common) in the sense that all humans have them or are disposed to have them. They are also invariably true and therefore can serve as criteria in order to increase knowledge, promote scientific understanding and contribute to the good life. It is these ennoiai that the Platonists integrate in their own reinvention of Plato’s epistemology and employ in their polemics against their principal rivals.
Matthew Duncombe’s chapter ‘Relative Concepts’ asks: what are relative concepts according to ancient philosophers? Duncombe argues that Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics have a clear concept of relatives, distinct from incompleteness approaches, which he calls ‘constitutive relativity’. The core idea of constitutive relativity is that a relative is constituted precisely by the relation it bears to an exclusive correlative. Duncombe discusses particular philosophers and schools in detail. The examination of Agathon’s speech in Plato’s Symposium illustrates that Socrates understands relative concepts in general and love in particular, on the constitutive model. Aristotle’s concept of relatives in Categories 7 draws on Plato, but Aristotle addresses a worry that relative concepts might be vacuous. Duncombe argues that a Stoic relative concept is the concept of a relative that relates exclusively to a correlative. He examines Sextus’ sceptical argument, which raises a worry about any conception of relativity where relatives relate exclusively to their correlatives.
Concepts are basic features of rationality. Debates surrounding them have been central to the study of philosophy in the medieval and modern periods, as well as in the analytical and Continental traditions. This book studies ancient Greek approaches to the various notions of concept, exploring the early history of conceptual theory and its associated philosophical debates from the end of the archaic age to the end of antiquity. When and how did the notion of concept emerge and evolve, what questions were raised by ancient philosophers in the Greco-Roman tradition about concepts, and what were the theoretical presuppositions that made the emergence of a notion of concept possible? The volume furthers our own contemporary understanding of the nature of concepts, concept formation, and concept use. This title is part of the Flip it Open Programme and may also be available Open Access. Check our website Cambridge Core for details.
This Element discusses the association between Samuel Beckett, and the Romanian-born philosopher, E. M. Cioran. It draws upon the known biographical detail, but, more substantially, upon the terms of Beckett's engagement with Cioran's writings, from the 1950s to the 1970s. Certain of Cioran's key conceptualisations, such as that of the 'meteque', and his version of philosophical scepticism, resonate with aspects of Beckett's writing as it evolved beyond the 'siege in the room'. More particularly, aspects of Cioran's conclusion about the formal nature that philosophy must assume chime with some of the formal decisions taken by Beckett in the mid-late prose. Through close reading of some of Beckett's key works such as Texts for Nothing and How It Is, and through consideration of Beckett's choices when translating between English and French, the issues of identity and understanding shared by these two settlers in Paris are mutually illuminated.
In this essay, I explore two main areas of Rowan Williams’ theology of revelation. The former is his reflections on the silence of God – God’s reticence to clarify himself to us amid our theological and spiritual confusion. I argue that he is not denying that God has genuinely revealed himself to us, but rather Williams is grappling with – and exhorting us to grapple with – the limits of that revelation. The second area I explore is his theory of revelation as generative phenomena, and how his theory underwrites his understanding of church tradition and, mainly, scripture. Williams argues that there is a division within scripture between the parts containing true divine revelation and the parts containing humanity’s broken response to that revelation. I argue that this view, while it is very well formulated and has some merits, cannot surmount the epistemological obstacle of how biased and interested humans can adequately differentiate between these parts within scripture.
After briefly outlining the fine-tuning argument (FTA), I explain how it relies crucially on the claim that it is not improbable that God would design a fine-tuned universe. Against this premise stands the divine psychology objection: the contention that the probability that God would design a fine-tuned universe is inscrutable. I explore three strategies for meeting this objection: (i) denying that the FTA requires any claims about divine psychology in the first place, (ii) defining the motivation and intention to design a fine-tuned universe into the theistic hypothesis, and (iii) providing arguments that the relevant probability is not terribly low. While I reject the first two, I conclude, in line with the third, that considerations about life's objective value establish that it is not absurdly improbable that God would design a fine-tuned universe, whether one regards the FTA as an inference merely to a cosmic designer, or to theism proper. Accordingly, the divine psychology objection fails.
The view of evidence, defeat, and suspension put forth here delivers the result that paradigmatic scepticism about knowledge and justification is an instance of resistance to evidence. This chapter argues that this result is correct. In order to do that, I look at extant neo-Moorean responses to purported instances of failure of knowledge closure (Pryor 2004, Williamson 2007) and warrant transmission and argue that they are either too weak – in that they concede too much to the sceptic – or too strong – in that they cannot accommodate the intuition of reasonableness surrounding sceptical arguments. I propose a novel neo-Moorean explanation of the data, relying on my preferred account of defeat and permissible suspension, on which the sceptic is in impermissible suspension but in fulfilment of their contrary-to-duty epistemic obligations.
Chapter 3 deals with the possible encounters of the West with Buddhism from Alexander the Great’s expedition to India in the fourth century BCE to Saint Jerome’s belief that the Buddha was born of a virgin in the fourth century CE. It deals in particular with the question of whether the Greek historians of antiquity were identifying Buddhists among the Indian philosophers that they encountered, the difficulties that we have in interpreting their words, and the care we need to take in coming to any conclusions that they were encountering Buddhism. It examines also what is unarguably the first reference to the Buddha in the West in Clement of Alexandria’s Stromateis (Miscellanies) and the importance of Alexandria in the Buddha’s coming to the West. It also examines the much-disputed question of the extent to which the Buddha may have influenced Greek philosophy and particularly Pyrrho, the traditional founder of Greek scepticism. In conclusion, the chapter looks at Saint Jerome’s awareness of the Buddha as the founder of a religion and the role of the tradition of the Manichees in bringing knowledge of Buddhism to the West.