Political figures engage rhetoric and exalted speech to excite the imagination, stir up the emotions, and prompt their listeners to embrace and act on an ideological perspective. However, there is more to excellent public oratory than eloquence. Rational persuasion is also a key component, emphasizing facts, evidence, and reasoning. Hume acknowledges that rational persuasion alone is not terribly effective in the public arena. His corpus contains many references to eloquence. Dispassionate delivery of evidence does not have the psychological impact of (...) eloquent delivery. What explains the difference? My aim in this paper is to use Hume’s theory of belief and “the feeling of conviction” to explain his analysis of effective oratory. Furthermore, I point to the abuses of eloquence in the political arena. Given these abuses, I ask why Hume considers eloquence a virtue. Although eloquence is immediately agreeable to us (one category of virtue for Hume), it can have detrimental, even deadly, consequences. Does this make it vicious in certain cases, since it has disutility, and given that usefulness to the public is another category of virtue for Hume? I suggest that skilled and elegant oratory is pleasing, but such oratory, when used for inhumane ends, could undermine the pleasure of the oratory experience itself. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:HUME'S THEORY OF IMAGINATION* Historians of philosophy seem increasingly to agree with the view that David Hume is the greatest philosopher ever to have written in English. This high esteem of the Scottish empiricist, however, is a phenomenon of the last decades. As late as 1925 Charles W. Hendel could write "that Hume is no longer a living figure." And Stuart Hampshire reports that in the Oxford of the (...) Thirties the results of Humean philosophizing were regarded as "extravagances of 2 scepticism which no one could seriously accept." A cursory glance at the Hume bibliography edited by Roland Hall demonstrates that it has become standard practice in the English-speaking world to seek an understanding of Hume's arguments when analysing philosophical problems. Critical literature nevertheless continues to neglect the majority of his arguments. It is sufficient, I think, to mention Hume's remarks on space and time, his theory of emotions, his inquiries into the problem of justice, his economic writings and those on the psychology of roliqion. Dut 3 even in the frequently quoted passages of the Treatise Hume's central notion is not, in my opinion, at the heart of the analysis. Here I refer to Hume's remarks on the phenomenon of imagination (fancy). Although he mentions this curious faculty of our cognition on almost every page, there are only a few sporadic attempts at an interpretation of this "supreme Humean faculty." This may be due to the fact that until quite recently the 'problem of imagination' has hardly even belonged to the marginal topics of modern philosophy. This paper therefore attempts to demonstrate not only that Hume dealt with the phenomenon of imagination, but also that an analysis of this concept is of paramount significance for the understanding of his entire philosophy. In the first three sections three different faculties or functions of the imagination will be distinguished. Not only the artist's - 91 92. works, but also the insights of the scientist and the illusions of metaphysicians are, according to Hume, decisively based on this very cognitive faculty. Section 4 contains a brief discussion of the sceptical arguments of the Treatise, particularly of the Humean analysis of causation. Their impact on Hume's reflections on the problem of imagination is the topic of Section 5. I hope to prove that in the Enquiry Hume interprets these sceptical arguments differently than in the Treatise. While in his early work he feels himself exposed to Pyrrhonian doubts, he assumes the position of an 'academic sceptic' in the Enquiry. The concluding section eventually tries to determine which motives may have been decisive for Hume's change of opinion. I shall defend the thesis that in his late work Hume developed an 'ethics of belief on the basis of natural beliefs, in which the artistic capacity of the imagination assumes a decisive role in justifying philosophical and scientific propositions. 1. The Metaphysical Faculty of the Imagination In the Introduction to the Treatise Hume describes his endeavour as developing a propaedeutic basic science which should provide a better understanding of all products of the human mind (science, mathematics, metaphysics, ethics, aesthetics, politics). In the Abstract he calls his early work "a system of the sciences" (?7). Besides this empirical interest Hume saw the importance of justifying the choice of method, i.e. to extoll the experimental procedure as the only rational one. Metaphysical approaches are interpreted as products of a blind imagination. Beginning with the Introduction to the Treatise it has been a constant motive of Hume's philosophy to constrain metaphysics in order to make way for science. In the sections Of the effects of other relations and other habite (T106-117), Of unphilosophiaal probability 93. (T143-155), Of scepticism with regard to the senses (T187218 ), Of the antient philosophy (T219-225) Hume specifies those beliefs which, in his opinion, are based on figments of our imagination. He "had ^en that all the errors of philosophy arose from the fact that imagination determined men much more than they recognized - there could be no secure truth for him, then, until he had explored this aspect of the nature of man." He compares imagination to a ship which, having... (shrink)

If you are anything like me, you may feel yourself unsure of what, as a critic these days, you ought to be talking about—whether literature qua literature, literature as rhetoric, literature as politics or as history, whether about the persistence of romanticism or the waxing of postmodernism, the decline of Yale or the rise of Duke. If, like me, you are puzzled by what we now ought to be about, you may also be like Paul de Man, who bespoke (...) a similar concern: “In a manner that is more acute for theoreticians of literature than for theoreticians of the natural or the social world, it can be said that they do not quite know what it is they are talking about, … that, whenever one is supposed to speak of literature, one speaks of anything under the sun except literature. The need for determination,” de Man concludes, “thus becomes all the stronger as a way to safeguard a discipline which constantly threatens to degenerate into gossip, trivia or self-obsession,”1De Man’s wishes are rarely fulfilled, and this instance is no exception. Despite the critic’s determinations, theory, it turns out, is the story of the failure of safeguards to do the job for which they are designed. There is no better instance of that ironic truth than the career of Paul de Man. No critic has fallen farther despite his determination; from a paragon of analytical rigor, he has become the most gossiped about critic of the late 1980s 1. Paul de Man, The Resistance to Theory , p. 29; hereafter abbreviated RT. Jerome Christensen teaches English at The Johns Hopkins University. He is the author of Coleridge’s Blessed Machine of language and Practicing Enlightenment: Hume and the Formation of a Literary Career . This essay is part of a work in progress entitled Prefigurations: Romantic Theory and Romantic Practice. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:390 HUME'S DIALOGUES AND THE COMEDY OF RELIGION Laughter is the key to Hume's Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion. Indeed, I would suggest that if the Dialogues have not made one laugh, and if one has not experienced the sheer delight of Hume's rhetorical excesses and gaiety, then one hasn't really understood this work at all. From this perspective, the usual questions are irrelevant — Is Hume Cleanthes or Philo? (...) Is Philo a mitigated sceptic or a Pyrrhonian? Such debates are sterile and miss the point, for however consistent or inconsistent the characters may be, the actual drama of the text has an intention and a direction all of its own, destroying the religious hypothesis not so much by 'serious' calculated argument as by ridicule and excess. Hume's Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion are the expression of a healthy and cheerful malice which strives at every turn to intensify the sense of the absurdity of religion. Hence their flavour is primarily rhetorical, and it would be a mistake to consider them as merely a collection of paraphraseable proofs directed against the possibility of rational theology. This is not to say, however, that Hume did not take religion seriously; on the contrary, he uses all of the devices of comedy in order to overwhelm it — rather as Nietzsche was to argue: "Not by wrath does one kill but by laughter. ml In this paper, I will consider the rhetorical aspect of Hume's Dialogues to show how the literary mode — the elaboration and contrast of characters, the use of parody and sudden turns in the plot, etc. — enables Hume to make a far more compelling assault on the religious hypothesis than the plain recital of 391 'reasonable' objections would ever achieve. I will focus my discussion on three central themes: First, the professed acceptance of God by all of the participants, and the consequent need for an oblique attack upon religion; second, Hume's comic perspectives on the argument from Design; and third, Hume's development of an 'antinomies of religion,' whereby the various religious arguments are used to undermine each other. 1. The Belief in God No man; no man, at least of common sense, I am persuaded, ever entertained a serious doubt with regard to a truth so certain and self-evident. The question is not concerning the being but the nature of God. Ostensibly, the one thing that is never questioned in the Dialogues, the one thing that all the participants remain agreed upon, is that God exists. Indeed, it seems that however limited the scope of natural theology may turn out to be, the actual being of God can never be in dispute, for in the Dialogues, belief in God is often presented as if it were an unchallengeable 'given' of human experience. Cleanthes, for example, apparently follows Locke in arguing for the reasonableness of theism; and yet, when he is pressed he defends the Design hypothesis in terms of its psychological irresistibility, appealing to a natural sentiment of belief rather than the claim of any argument: Consider, anatomize the eye: Survey its structure and contrivance; and tell me, from your own feeling, if the idea of a contriver does not immediately flow in upon you with a force like that of sensation.... it requires time, reflection and study, to summon up those frivolous, though 392 abstruse, objections, which can support infidelity (D 154). According to Cleanthes, the Design hypothesis is so self-evident that it really does not need any philosophical justification at all. It is simply the articulation of what we all already knew to be true: The comparison of the universe to a machine of human contrivance is so obvious and natural, and is justified by so many instances of order and design in nature, that it must immediately strike all unprejudiced apprehensions, and procure universal approbation (D 216). Demea also denies that religion is based upon argument. He claims that each man is brought to feel the truth of religion within himself through the consciousness of his own complete ignorance and misery. And in this respect, 'reason' can only hamper religious belief. Finally, at the end of the Dialogues, even Philo... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Rhetorical Definition:A French InitiativeNancy S. StrueverRhetoric as TheoryIl y a quelque chose de démesuré et de prématuré à entreprendre une histoire de la rhétorique dans I'Europe moderne(Fumaroli 1999).When in his preface to the Histoire de la rhétorique Marc Fumaroli states that the project itself is overambitious and premature, he proceeds to justify his judgment by listing the complications of rhetorical definition: rhetoric is Protean in nature, and in this (...) it simply matches the fluidity of the phenomena of speech, parole ; it is oxymoronic as the science of the uncertain, trying to ally incertitude of topic with intelligibility of explanation; it intricates theoria and ergon, the concept of parole with an engagement with parole in act. Long a part of early education, it generates grace in adult expression, finesse. It is as well a primary source for reflection on communication phenomena. It is manifest in works of genius, yet, it is democratic in its accessibility; it is perdurable, remarkably persistent through change; and, it recognizes that the sharing and abusing of parole are intimately bound together. Finally rhetoric stimulates, for it may illumine the contemporary "exile" of literature and the arts, an exile that poses for us the issue of, perhaps intractable, cultural decline (Fumaroli 1999, 2–3). [End Page 401]These disparate elements of rhetoric, I would argue, by their very complexity justify rhetoric as mode of inquiry, and prompt our continuing consideration of the investigative protocols of rhetoric as hermeneutic. Roman rhetoric, subdivided into three communicative tasks—docere, delectare, movere —sponsors three investigative tasks: instructing requires command of the strategies of argument; delighting sponsors an ecology of desire, and moving requires a socio-pathology of community assent and dissent. The rhetorical interest in discursive effect, then, sponsors a second-order inquiry, the task of reviewing the basic assumptions of the communicative community: the beliefs, doxa, the shared opinions, endoxa, habits, dispositions. Rhetoric collects assumptions; thus Aristotle's Rhetoric has been characterised as a compendium of the collective wisdom of the polis. Rhetorical topoi, commonplaces, are the rubrics that organize common sense, sensus communis. Rhetoric has the task of understanding the means of asserting, rejecting, altering beliefs, the transfer of theory into practice, dealing with the transformations of idea into ideology.Rhetorical interests, in the Habermasian sense of motives that color knowledge initiatives, can correct careers of inquiry; a shift to a rhetorical investigative focus is pragmatic, to a most distinctive engagement with practice. And thus Martin Heidegger's aphorism: "Rhetoric functions inside politics." Rhetoric is framed, compromised by politics defined in the generous sense of discursive negotiations within the communal domain of beliefs, shared opinions, habits of action, dispositions. Rhetorical inquiry has to identify the beliefs and habits of action of a community in its efforts to preserve and extend its identity, and rhetoric must analyze the discursive negotiations for affirmation and alteration of beliefs vital to the continued existence of the polity.The work of Marc Fumaroli is of intrinsic interest to the historian of rhetoric as an instantiation of rhetorical interests driving an entire career, a practice shaped by rhetorical tasks and habits of action in inquiry; the effect is that of a kind of alchemy, of the transformation, at every turn, of the history of culture into the history of cultural politics. "Cultural politics" does not denote, of course, an exclusive focus on state policy, dirigisme in culture. Rather, we have a combination of a compendious notion of culture as all our inventions, artifices—political, theological, affective, aesthetic—with a generous sense of politics as all our discursive negotiations of differences of public import, a combination that sets a topic that Fumaroli prefers to call a "politics of the spirit" (Fumaroli 1992a, 80–81).1 If we distinguish rhetoric as discipline, oratory as product, eloquence as value, we [End Page 402] see Fumaroli's career is exemplary of a modern initiative that links rhetoric as disciplined inquiry to the politics of value. Thus, he will give us a rhetorical definition of the Académie Française's communal, historical duty to French "eloquence," to a pursuit of a national excellence (Fumaroli 1996a, 304, 1992b, 78). And... (shrink)

This chapter contains section titled: Hume's Legacy Sense Impressions, Passions and Ideas The Idea of Cause and Effect Probability and the Inference from Past to Future (Moderate) Skepticism Moral Feelings Human Nature and Religious Beliefs.

There is a tension apparent in Adam Ferguson's Essay on the History of Civil Society between his naturalistic account of the history of societies as emanating from principles of human nature on the one hand, and on the other, the rhetorically charged moralism that readers have generally noted in his critique of contemporary polished and commercial societies. This is related in the article to questions about the appropriate relationship between forms of rhetoric and the writing of moral and political philosophy (...) as they appeared in early-modern political thought and were taken up by other figures in the Scottish Enlightenment (most notably Hume). The article shows how reading Ferguson's text as an exercise in political rhetoric, which harnesses the additional force of forensic and demonstrative forms of eloquence, can provide a basis for understanding not only the intended relationship between the two sides of its argument but also its relationship with Ferguson's role as a teacher of morals at Edinburgh University. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Fate of Eloquence in the Age of HumeVicki J. SappThe Fate of Eloquence in the Age of Hume, by Adam Potkay; xii & 253 pp. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994, $36.95.With the memory still fresh of Jerome Christensen’s Practicing Enlightenment, I experienced no small anxiety on reading Adam Potkay’s first acknowledgment, to Prof. Christensen and his “provocative seminar” on Hume. I finished a third of The Fate (...) of Eloquence in the Age of Hume before the overt nod, when Potkay spotlights the essayist Hume’s appeal to a female readership: “Within this doux commerce, the figures of classical eloquence are entirely too priapic—too ‘swelling... monstrous and gigantic’—to be admitted” (p. 75). However, Hume’s self-castration wound is mercifully left unprobed, and the priapus doesn’t come up again until Potkay’s own prosopopoeia, “ancient eloquence’s priapic energy” (p. 158). Although he follows Christensen’s equation of polite letters with effeminacy, Potkay treats gender more materially than metaphorically. Although attending to his poststructuralist debts with such observations as “Hume, the unmoved mover, observes the spiritual implosion of one whose passions cannot, like his own, be alleviated through voyeurism” (p. 125), Potkay ultimately fulfills his promise to draw his insights from “a history of eighteenth-century reading and reception” (p. 22). In a clear prose he conveys his focused argument, about “the fate of eloquence” in the modern [End Page 244] reconfiguration of society, through a variety of illustrations; as a result, the book has broad appeal to readers interested in literary contexts of rhetoric, gender, and culture.Situating Hume as the center of shared interest and assumption, Potkay defines an “Age of Hume,” a constellation of writers responding to and producing a tension between an ideal of classical eloquence and modern codes of politeness. Boldly establishing this tension “as the characteristic theme of the era,” Potkay makes a compelling case for politeness as the primary means of class stratification for emergent capitalist society. (Paul Fussell has also applied an eighteenth-century literary mind to contemporary sociology in his Class: A Guide Through the American Status System.) In his epilogue, Potkay brings his thesis home, to the ironies of academic publishing elitism and the “peculiarly American commitment to civic equality.”Several ruling assumptions guide Potkay’s treatment of the eloquence/politeness dualism. Reading high-canon writers and moral philosophers, Potkay defines eighteenth-century Britain as an age “that does not want its passions inflamed” and suspects eloquence of aiming to seduce the masses with rhetorical figures and physical gesture. Equated with popular government, eloquence threatens to manipulate “our untutored responses”—passions unmediated by moral and social education—within an exclusively “masculine” political economy. Echoing Christensen, Potkay finds “a characteristic irony” of the new “sentimental commerce” in the “polite restraint of the sexual passions that covertly fuel it” (p. 147). Writers must adapt to the paradigm shift of a new commercial and literary economy which included a sentimental ideal of woman as social sovereign—a model of polite literacy and civility which Hume described in his initial piece, “Of Essay Writing.”Potkay diffuses his gender-based thesis over a broad political and philosophical perspective. Politeness redressed the conflict between masculine populism (Bolingbroke) and effeminate luxury (Walpole) and “served to compensate for virtue lost through commercial progress” (p. 194). Potkay points out the ultimately political association of eloquence with vulgarity: savages, children, and the insane speak a language “thought to abound in figures”—a convenient habit in those whom a ruling class would exclude from “mature, rational discourse” (p. 68). (Here, Potkay elides the more complex “woman” from the above marginalia, for immediate reasons of either obviousness or neatness.)On the philosophical front Hume variously affirmed and problematized a “topos of eloquence as error.” Treatise-lovers may regret that he simmered this passionately figurative text down into the duller and drier Enquiries in order to fulfill a polite—and commercial—demand for the replacement of oral with written culture, of emotional gesticulation with “rationality, abstraction, logic” (p. 63). Potkay’s arguments suggest a ruling irony in this paradigm-shift: the association of eloquence (masculine) with emotionalism and politeness (feminine) with rationality and... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Rhetoric on the Bleachers, or, The Rhetorician as MelancholiacPhilippe-Joseph SalazarThose who cannot remember rhetoric are condemned to repeat it.*French philosopher Jacques Bouveresse (2008) asks, in his most recent book, Why is it that we think we need literary works, in addition to science and philosophy, to help solve moral questions? As one reviewer notes, this comes as a surprise from a man “better known as a specialist of Wittgenstein, (...) who has always defended philosophy, often with scathing irony, against brainless realism, and, in any case, defended the prerogatives of a reason reasonably attentive to reality, a defense that led him to dismiss relativism and its mixing up of truth and verifiability with fallacy and verisimilitude” (Maggiori 2008). 1Bouveresse, who holds the chair of the philosophy of language and knowledge at Collège de France, and whose elevation to this hallowed professorship was portrayed as a revenge of sorts against Jacques Derrida, is not unimportant for those in rhetoric studies who have an interest in philosophy as well.2 He is the one who, with indeed scathing irony, unraveled the rhetorical stakes of the unrivaled Sokal truancy against Social Text (Bouveresse 1999), namely, how analogy provides a common ground for the literary and the scientific within public discourse.3Bouveresse (1999, 129) recalls, tongue in cheek, how that famed connoisseur in manipulations, [End Page 356] Alexander Zinoviev, explains, in The Yawning Heights (1979), that sciences produce their own “doubles” for the sake of public argument. The literary use of scientific analogy mimics the way in which ideology has to produce its own “doubles” in order to exist in public consciousness.For Bouveresse, literary intellectuals, and some philosophers, manufacture doubles of science because our life is lived under the shadow of science insofar as it has something to say about everything we do as moral agents or think in terms of practical reason. Analogy rules therefore by a popular demand for science. To question analogy in relation to ethics—belief and opinion, custom and habitus, temperament and character—under the gaze of the massive presence of science in public discourse (from campaign claims of “experience” to policy claims made on the basis of scientific knowledge) is at once to engage with rhetoric.4 It is to ask the question: Why do we feel that, alongside science, philosophy, and works of fiction, we need to listen to that double, “speeches,” to solve ethical problems?However, at this juncture, or crossroad where doubles point in various directions, rhetoricians have a choice among four attitudes, or four paths (to put it in Heideggerian fashion). Faced with the real, moral dangers inherent to analogy, one can (like Bouveresse) be combative and assert reason’s prerogative against the sophistry of doubles; one may defend analogy as morally grounded or even a means to resistance (hence, the moral incentive Bouveresse now attaches to fiction); one may argue for a culture replete with figurations (by and large, a matter of religious belief and faith as truth, which necessitates an analogical reading of this debased reality called “the world”); or one may, having already played on these teams, decide to stay on the bleachers, watch players of this three-cornered game, and fall into melancholy.Thomas Farrell was, I think, a melancholic rhetorician. I do not mean he was not here and there combative, or sanguine, or controversial, merely that from his writings emanates a stubborn melancholy regarding the destiny of rhetoric, or, to recall the epigram placed, ironically, at the top of this essay: “Those who cannot remember rhetoric are condemned to repeat it.” In essence, our public is a-rhetorical; it evolves in a world of instant communication, of short-lived prudence, of ever-disappearing persuasion, while, at the same time, it is made to cling to opinions raised to standards of absolute value and unnegotiable belief. The main reason why rhetoric is no longer a technē lies in this tension. It cannot be a technē because [End Page 357] its rules and artifacts are divorced from culture. It cannot be an epistēmē because its productions are singular constructions.Rhetoricians are not rhetors, and rhetors have long vanished. Indeed, there are eloquent... (shrink)

David Hume's relatively short essay 'Of the Standard of Taste' deals with some of the most difficult issues in aesthetic theory. Apart from giving a few pregnant remarks, near the end of his discussion, on the role of morality in aesthetic evaluation, Hume tries to reconcile the idea that tastes are subjective (in the sense of not being answerable to the facts) with the idea that some objects of taste are better than others. 'Tastes', in this context, are the pleasures (...) or displeasures that a person can take in the beauties of poems, paintings, and other artistic compositions (though Hume also wants to stress the continuities between tastes, so understood, and the bodily sense of taste). The position at which Hume arrives in the essay (despite some dialectical unclarity) is that some people – the 'true judges'– determine by their 'joint verdict' which works are meritorious. This solution continues to exercise a fascination, as does Hume's complicated route to it. Author Recommends: Paul Guyer, 'The Standard of Taste and the "Most Ardent Desire of Society" ', Values of Beauty (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 37–76. This paper places 'Of the Standard of Taste' in an especially rich context, and asks why Hume concentrates on true judges instead of the improvement of one's own taste. Mary Mothersill, 'Hume: "Of the Standard of Taste" ', Beauty Restored (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), 177–208. This chapter, embedded in an exposition of Mothersill's 'First Thesis' (the denial that there are principles of taste) and 'Second Thesis' (the affirmation that some judgments of taste are genuine judgments), gives a detailed running commentary on Hume's essay. A shorter self-contained version of the chapter appeared as 'Hume and the Paradox of Taste' in Aesthetics: A Critical Anthology , 2nd ed., eds. George Dickie, Richard Sclafani, and Ronald Roblin (New York, NY: St. Martin's Press, 1989, 269–86). Jerrold Levinson, 'Hume's Standard of Taste: The Real Problem', Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism (2002): 227–38. An importance recent article, Levinson's piece argues that the 'real' difficulty with Hume's essay has gone unnoticed: why should I care about what Hume's true judges think? Christopher Williams, 'Some Questions in Hume's Aesthetics', Philosophy Compass 2/2 (2007). This article provides a brief overview of the topics discussed under weeks 3–5 in the sample syllabus below. It is intended to provide a roadmap for the particular set of readings listed there. David Wiggins, 'A Sensible Subjectivism?', Needs, Values, and Truth , 3rd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 185–214. This is a stimulating paper in moral philosophy that treats Hume's essay on taste as a model for a serious subjectivism. Wiggins then presents his own brand of subjectivism as an alternative to Hume's. Online Materials: Hume's Aesthetics (Ted Gracyk): http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/hume-aesthetics/ Sample Syllabus: Recommended background reading on Hume's historical context: Peter Kivy, The Seventh Sense: Francis Hutcheson and Eighteenth-Century British Aesthetics , 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), especially Part III. Recommended background reading on the general topic of taste: David A. Whewell, 'Taste', Blackwell Companion to Aesthetics (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992), 415–18. Dabney Townsend and Carolyn Korsmeyer, 'Taste', Encyclopedia of Aesthetics , ed. Michael Kelly (New York, NY and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 4:355–62. Ted Cohen, 'The Philosophy of Taste: Thoughts on the Idea', Blackwell Guide to Aesthetics , ed. Peter Kivy (Oxford: Blackwell, 2004), 167–73. Week 1: Hume on beauty, art, and aesthetic judgment in the Treatise of Human Nature and the Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals The following references are usable for any complete edition of the Treatise or Enquiry Treatise , 2.1.8 ('Of Beauty and Deformity') Treatise , 2.2.5 ('Of Our Esteem for the Rich and Powerful') Treatise , 2.2.8 ('Of Malice and Envy'), final three paragraphs Treatise , 2.2.11 ('Of the Amorous Passion, or Love Betwixt the Sexes') Treatise , 3.1.2 ('Moral Distinctions Deriv'd from a Moral Sense') Treatise , 3.3.1 ('Of the Origin of the Natural Virtues') Treatise , 3.3.5 ('Some Farther Reflexions Concerning the Natural Virtues') Enquiry , Appendix 1 ('Of moral sentiment') Week 2: Hume's essays Essays Moral, Political, and Literary , ed. Eugene Miller (Indianapolis, IN: LibertyClassics, 1985) is the most commonly used edition today. 'Of the Delicacy of Taste and Passion' 'Of Eloquence' 'Of the Rise and Progress of the Arts and Sciences' 'Of Simplicity and Refinement in Writing' 'Of Tragedy' 'Of the Standard of Taste' Week 3: Circularity–Virtuous or Vicious? Peter Kivy, 'Hume's Standard of Taste: Breaking the Circle', British Journal of Aesthetics (1967): 57–66. David Wiggins, 'A Sensible Subjectivism?', Needs, Values, and Truth , 3rd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 185–214. Week 4: Rules of Art Mary Mothersill, 'Hume: "Of the Standard of Taste" ', Beauty Restored (Oxford: Clarendon, 1984), 177–208. James Shelley, 'Hume's Double Standard of Taste', Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism (1994): 437–45. Nick Zangwill, 'Hume, Taste, and Teleology', The Metaphysics of Beauty (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2001), 149–65. Week 5: The True Judge Malcolm Budd, 'Hume and Kant', 'Hume's Standard of Taste', 'Hume and Human Nature', Values of Art (London: Allen Lane, 1995), 16–24 . Paul Guyer, 'The Standard of Taste and the "Most Ardent Desire of Society" ', Values of Beauty (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 37–76. Jerrold Levinson, 'Hume's Standard of Taste: The Real Problem', Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism (2002): 227–38. Week 6: Moralism in Aesthetic Judgment: Hume and Beyond Kendall Walton, 'Morals in Fiction and Fictional Morality', Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society (1994): 27–50. Richard Moran, 'The Expression of Feeling in Imagination', Philosophical Review (1994): 75–106. Tamar Szabo-Gendler, 'The Puzzle of Imaginative Resistance', Journal of Philosophy (2000): 55–81. Focus Questions 1. How does Hume distinguish between matters of 'fact' and 'sentiment'? 2. What is a 'rule of art', and are there any rules? 3. Can a bad critic be 'silenced'? 4. What are the characteristics of good critics? 5. Should we expect good critics to agree on the merits of a work, and should I care about becoming a good critic myself? 6. Is it possible to distinguish variations in taste for which we should expect a standard and variations for which it is 'vain' to have such an expectation? 7. How is the excellence of a work related to the exercise of taste? 8. If a work of literature has a moral outlook that differs from our own, should we consider the work defective on literary grounds? (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: Reviewed by Sextus, Montaigne, Hume: Pyrrhonizers by Brian C. Ribeiro Donald C. Ainslie Brian C. Ribeiro. Sextus, Montaigne, Hume: Pyrrhonizers. Brill: Leiden, 2021. Pp. 165. Hardback, $154.00. Brian C. Ribeiro’s Sextus, Montaigne, Hume: Pyrrhonizers is a charming and quirky investigation of his three titular skeptics. It is perhaps best understood as a skeptical investigation of skepticism. By that I mean that, like a good Pyrrhonist, Ribeiro explains how (...) things appear to him without claiming to lay down a doctrine or dogma. His topic is how and why skepticism still matters (7). And he suggests that those who are moved by skeptical arguments can learn intellectual modesty from them and thereby achieve a degree of philosophical “calmness of soul” (141).Ribeiro approaches his three figures by taking the cogency of their skeptical arguments for granted. There is little investigation of why these philosophers call various beliefs into question, and his concern is rather what remains once the skeptical doubts are taken on board. Because what he calls “Pyrrhonizing” philosophers reveal that large swaths of our beliefs lack epistemic merit, they also show us how we are not fully rational creatures in our everyday lives. In the case of Sextus, Ribeiro’s focus is on the famous question of whether skeptics can live their skepticism once they have actually suspended all belief. With Sextus, as with Montaigne and Hume, Ribeiro opts for the more radical of the interpretive options; he is not persuaded by Michael Frede’s suggestion that Pyrrhonists restrict their suspension only to abstruse matters, not the everyday (51). But even if we follow the “four-fold way” (20–23) that Sextus offers us as guides for life—the directives of nature, feelings, custom, and expertise—Ribeiro still thinks we will inevitably fall back into belief. He concludes that the original Pyrrhonists should be read aspirationally: insofar as we develop our capacities [End Page 517] to argue on both sides of every question and thus are able to suspend judgment, to that extent we will achieve tranquility. In the case of Montaigne, Ribeiro focuses on his Christian fideism. Once he recognizes the incapacity of reason to resolve intellectual problems, he falls back on faith. And Ribeiro argues that the Catholic flavor of this faith is simply a reflection of Montaigne’s surroundings. In a different community, he could just as easily have embraced a different faith. The heart of the book concerns Hume, whom Ribeiro discusses in three chapters, as opposed to the one each devoted to Sextus and Montaigne. In keeping with his interpretive preferences, Ribeiro’s Hume is a radical skeptic, though he acknowledges the significant yet “utterly perplexing” (95n22) naturalist strains that are also present. Ribeiro takes the resulting tension to be insoluble (98), though I was not convinced. Consider that, in both the Treatise and the Enquiry, Hume uses causal reasoning to investigate causal reasoning. He learns that our ideas are caused by prior impressions; that repeated experience of conjoint events causes us to associate our ideas of similar events; and so on. In the Treatise, he concludes the argument that association is at the root of such causal reasoning by presenting a set of rules, a “logic,” for it. The argument is not as such skeptical, though when Hume “recasts” it in the first Enquiry, he does so in terms of “sceptical doubts” and a “sceptical solution.” In the Treatise, “total” and “extravagant” skepticism come into play only as “systems of philosophy” that Hume uses to shed light on his own core commitments. The problem, I think, is that Ribeiro tends to read Hume a little too literally, as if he is himself falling prey to the skeptical upheaval of the conclusion to the first book of the Treatise, or the final section of the first Enquiry. But I would suggest that Hume is rather deploying the rhetoric of skepticism in these discussions, using it for his ultimate philosophical ends (a point that is especially clear in Ribeiro’s favorite of Hume’s works, the Dialogues). He is showing his reader how his naturalistic philosophical project is itself rooted in human nature, and thus does not yield insight into the intrinsic structure of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Rhetorical Sense of Philosophy by Donald Phillip VereneJeffrey Dirk WilsonVERENE, Donald Phillip. The Rhetorical Sense of Philosophy. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2021. xiii + 139 pp. Cloth, $49.95Rhetoric gives philosophy the ability to speak. Philosophy gives rhetoric something to say. They are mutually indispensable, and their rivalry at times descends into enmity. There are also occasions when only the one can rescue the other from catastrophe. (...) Those are the overarching dynamics of Verene's book.There is an introduction, then two parts, "Prolegomena Philosophiae," comprising four chapters, and "Three Rhetorics," comprising three chapters, followed by an epilogue, notes, and an index.Though Verene does not mention Hume in the introduction—and only twice in the book otherwise—it is difficult not to think of him when Verene speaks of philosophy as "a theater of memory," as if correcting Hume's "theater of the mind." It is also corrective to presentism, often attributed to Hume, when Verene claims that a chief task of the philosopher "is to keep us from always living in the present. For this labor to be accomplished the philosopher must go to school with both the poets and the orators." Rhetoric, rightly understood, helps philosophy to remain philosophy and prevents it from becoming sophistry.In chapter 1, "Philosophical Thinking," Verene reminds the reader that mortality is not a choice. The bounded nature of human life leads to the pursuit of happiness and, therefore, also to the pursuit of meaning. The human responds in two ways, by creating both arguments and stories, but arguments as well as stories need words.The "and yet" comes in the second chapter, "Philosophy and the Muses." Verene writes, "The philosopher knows that the real always outstrips language." Philosophy and its kin, poetry, point beyond themselves. Writing is remembering, but what is written, even at its best, can never capture all that is remembered, and memory, even at its best, can never capture all that is.In "Philosophy and Eloquence," Verene maps a way of escaping Kant. Modern philosophy rejects rhetoric and memory in its pursuit of novelty as progress. Verene introduces the concept of ingenium, "a power philosophy shares with rhetoric." It "is the ability to perceive similarity in dissimilars.... the power to produce metaphor" and irony. Metaphor and irony are philosophy's response to the stale univocal predication of critical thinking that Verene sees as the reduction of reality to an analytic concept.In "Philosophical Style," he shows that as soon as a subject is joined to a predicate, the subject ceases to be only what it was. The predicate is an [End Page 369] otherness that is pulled into the subject such that ever after the subject has an inner dialectic. "The ball is red" is generative of a ball that is not merely a ball but also something else, something foreign to its ballness. The ball gives up nothing of what it was but, rather, gains something that it was not, and yet not in the deterministic way of necessity. The ball does not have to be red, but if it is red, then "ball" and "red" constitute an inner dialectic. The ball is red predicatively and not tautologically, but separating out the kinds of predication does not exhaust all the mystery of the inner dialectic; nothing can.The three rhetorics are of "Self-Discourse," "Absolute Thought," and "The Philosophical Frontispiece." These are chapters respectively about speech appertaining to man, God, and the political entity, though each considered slant rather than head-on.Verene juxtaposes Descartes and Vico with respect to self-discourse. Descartes reframes the human being in terms of the first-person singular pronoun, thereby transforming the personal into the categorical. Vico responds by writing not an "autobiography" but, rather, The Life of Giambattista Vico Written by Himself, thereby transforming the pronoun for the other, "he," into the self-identifier. There follows an essay on the essay and especially on the essays of Montaigne as autobiography. "To think," Verene writes, "is to move ideas in relation to each other and thus to illuminate what comes before the mind in experience." What emerges is a dialectic between the "I" and... (shrink)

The politics of interpretation should not be confused with interpretive practices such as political theory, political commentary, or histories of political institutions, parties, and conflicts that have politics itself as a specific object of interest. In these other interpretive practices, the politics that informs or motivates them—“politics” in the sense of political values or ideology—is relatively easily perceived and no particular meta-interpretive analysis is required. The politics of interpretation, on the other hand, arises in those (...) interpretive practices which are ostensibly most remote from overtly political concerns, practices which are carried out under the aegis of a purely disinterested search for the truth or inquiry into the natures of things which appear to have no political relevance at all. This “politics” has to do with the kind of authority the interpreter claims vis-à-vis the established political authorities of his society, on the one side, and vis-à-vis other interpreters in his own field of study or investigation, on the other, as the basis of whatever rights he conceives himself to possess and whatever duties he feels obligated to discharge as a professional seeker of truth. This politics which presides over interpretive conflicts is difficult to identity because traditionally, in our culture at least, interpretation is thought to operate properly only as long as the interpreter does not have recourse to the one instrument which the politician per vocationem utilizes as a matter of course in his practice—the appeal to force as a means of resolving disputes and conflicts.11. I have followed the lead of Max Weber in defining the phrase “politics of interpretation.” In “Politics as Vocation,” Weber wrote that “ ‘politics’ means for us striving to share power or striving to influence the distribution of power, either among states or among groups within a state” . Rather than discuss the age-old problem of the professional interpreter’s political responsibilities, I will consider that politics which is endemic to the pursuit of truth—the striving to share power amongst interpreters themselves. The activity of interpreting becomes political at the point where a given interpreter claims authority over rival interpreters. As long as this claim is not reinforced by appeal to the power of the state to compel conformity of belief or conviction, it is “political” only in a metaphorical sense. Of course, interpretation becomes political when a given point of view or finding is taken as orthodoxy of belief by those holding political power, as in the Soviet Union, Germany under Hitler, or any number of religiously puritanical regimes. But these are the easy cases. It is much more difficult to determine the political nature of interpretive practices which, as in literary criticism or antiquarian scholarship, appear to have no bearing upon political policies or practices.Hayden White is a professor and director of the program in the history of consciousness at the University of California, Santa Cruz. He is coeditor of Representing Kenneth Burke and is currently working on a book on the rhetoric of realism. His previous contributions to Critical Inquiry are "The Value of Narrativity in the Representation of Reality" and "The Narrativization of Real Events". (shrink)

In the Fragment on Evil, Hume announces that he “shall not employ any rhetoric in a philosophical argument, where reason alone ought to be hearkened to.” To employ the rhetorical strategy, in the context of the Fragment, just is to “enumerate all the evils, incident to human life, and display them, with eloquence, in their proper colours.” However, in Part 11 of the Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, Hume employs precisely this rhetorical strategy. I discuss three interpretations that might account for (...) Hume’s decision to employ the strategy in the Dialogues but not the Fragment. The heart of this discussion concerns the relationship between reason and rhetoric. The Dialogues can be understood as part of the education of Pamphilus. Consequently, the three interpretations align with three ways of understanding the roles that reason and rhetoric play in Hume’s views on pedagogy and education (or more specifically, Philo’s attitude towards the education of Pamphilus). (shrink)

Many of the seemingly bland assertions and bald statements of the eighteenth-century philosopher David Hume contain more than the mind immediately perceives. Author John Valdimir Price contends that an understanding of Hume's writings cannot be separated from an understanding of his life. By examining the works of Hume, Price shows the way in which an ironic way of seeing events and an ironic mode of expression permeated Hume's life and writings. Price examines Hume's irony as it is exhibited in letters (...) to his friends and in his writings concerned with morality, people, philosophy, politics, history, and above all religion. Hume's opinions on life in general are stated in works ranging from the Treatise of Human Nature and the Essays, Moral and Political, through the Enquiry concerning Human Understanding and the Enquiry concerning Principles of Morals, to the Dialogue and Four Dissertations of his maturity. Price feels that Hume's recognition of the ironic in life came about from his perception of the disproportion between human hopes and human accomplishments. The rhetorical consequences of applying reason to a duality in human nature creates the ironic mode. Hume conceived man's opposing tendencies as his willingness to commit himself orally to a concept, a dogma, an idea, or an ideology, and his unwillingness to involve himself in the logical and rhetorical implications of articulating those principles. Hume's use of the ironic mode in his writings provides him with a means of challenging certain dogmatic assumptions common to thought, particularly to traditional religious thought; it acts as a mask for his sceptical intentions, and it is an implied criticism of many ideas. In his political writing, Hume frequently implied that the question under argument was almost too ridiculous to deserve serious treatment. This tactic was effectively employed in the Account of Stewart, in which Hume came to the defense of a friend. In his most profitable venture, the History of England, Hume not only used irony to advantage, but developed a new approach to the writing of history—the use of narrative. He presented history as a series of more or less connected events, not as a series of "right" or "wrong" attitudes. The author believes that Hume's initial religious scepticism, combined with the predominant satiric-ironic mode in the literature of his time, led him to seek irony as a method of self expression. This scepticism, which permeated all of Hume's attitudes toward life, reached its most complete expression in the Dialogues concerning Natural Religion, which accepted reason as its guide, but also accepted experience as its master. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 36.4 (2003) 376-379 [Access article in PDF] Rhetoric and Poetics in Antiquity. Jeffrey Walker. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Pp. xii + 396. $65.00, cloth. According to Jeffrey Walker, poetry is among rhetoric's true progenitors. Rhetoric was derived, he argues, not from the usual and oft told forensic or political sources but from an ancient argumentative mode that came to be known as epideictic and (...) that, long before Aristotle, included poetry. For Walker, this ur-epideictic was a broadly considered practice of artfully composed persuasive discourse: epideiktikon, "the rhetoric of belief and desire," as opposed to pragmatikon, "the rhetoric of practical civic business" (10). The former is primary and existed ages before rhetoric itself had a name; the latter is secondary because it depends upon and appeals to the beliefs and desires cultivated by the former. Recent discussions, as this well documented work suggests, have prepared us for a reconsideration of rhetoric's origin, perhaps even such a drastic one as this book proposes. Walker's aims, however, are not confined to revising rhetoric's history.The import of his thesis goes several steps farther to reflect his dismay with modern poetic practice and its underlying educational tradition. In that dismay, Walker's work passes beyond the revisionary and turns toward the subversive and polemic. This turn is seen best not in his thesis but in his hypothesis, his "plot": "the dominant notions of 'poetry' and 'rhetoric' that modern culture has inherited—and its notions of 'poetry' in particular—are largely products of the grammatical tradition in late antiquity" (311), a tradition which has proved stifling.In sum, Walker seeks not simply to revise history but also to adjust our educational and critical ideas and, above all, to improve the practice of poetry. In attempting briefly to set forth his thesis and hypothesis, I have surely misrepresented his manner. His stance is not exactly confrontational, although in the ultimate reckoning the reader will find that Walker pulls no punches about his aims. Revisionary, to an extent subversive, and at least somewhat polemical if not exactly confrontational—all adjectives fit, as I shall show in a review that, as I say, may regretfully damage Walker's rhetorical skills by making his case seem simpler, plainer, and far less interesting [End Page 376] than in fact it is. Indeed Walker's own skill as a rhetorician is particularly gratifying and persuasive. It's always gratifying and persuasive to find a rhetorical specialist who is adept at communication, relaxed in controversy, crafty in his use of figures (e.g., Isocrates's "Henry-Jamesian periods," 177), and sharp in his knowledge of literature.Walker's argument proceeds seamlessly and smoothly, as if offering only a kind of alternate to the usual view of our intellectual history: the nature of neither rhetoric nor poetry need be confused with the politics and taste that have necessarily driven the fortunes of each. After a brief excursus into comparative rhetoric (13-14), Walker turns his attention toward another kind of diversity, or lack thereof: the confining theoretical and critical sameness that has prevailed in our Western attitudes toward rhetoric and poetry since their ancient appearance as "conceptualized discursive practices" (17). Again, Walker's alternate to the usual view emerges as a kind of rancor-free "on the other hand" stance, or more in line with his own terminology, as the sort of tactic that from the time of the sophists has been known as making the lesser case the stronger. Nonetheless, the shortcomings of the traditionally dominant case grow exponentially until finally, as Walker's argument turns to near-polemic, they become shackles on the nature of the two arts.Crucial to his thesis is his presentation of the enthymeme. Here, more than in his discussion of epideictic, is the linchpin of his argument. At first he adverts to rhetoric as a Ciceronian combination of wisdom and eloquence or as a Quintilianesque ideal of wisdom speaking copiously, two venerable, widely accepted, perhaps even common-ground definitions that (like his idea of the epideictic) allow strategically for considerable... (shrink)

My own life -- Selections from Hume's letters concerning virtue, religion and matters literary -- Selections from Hume's letters on history, politics, law, commerce and Scottish affairs -- Hume's last letter : to Adam Smith -- Selections from An enquiry concerning the principles of morals -- Extracts from Of the liberty of the press.

Princess Diana’s death was a tragedy that provoked mourning across the globe; the death of a homeless person, more often than not, is met with apathy. How can we account for this uneven distribution of emotion? Can it simply be explained by the prevailing scientific understanding? Uncovering a rich tradition beginning with Aristotle, _The Secret History of Emotion_ offers a counterpoint to the way we generally understand emotions today. Through a radical rereading of Aristotle, Seneca, Thomas Hobbes, Sarah Fielding, and (...) Judith Butler, among others, Daniel M. Gross reveals a persistent intellectual current that considers emotions as psychosocial phenomena. In Gross’s historical analysis of emotion, Aristotle and Hobbes’s rhetoric show that our passions do not stem from some inherent, universal nature of men and women, but rather are conditioned by power relations and social hierarchies. He follows up with consideration of how political passions are distributed to some people but not to others using the Roman Stoics as a guide. Hume and contemporary theorists like Judith Butler, meanwhile, explain to us how psyches are shaped by power. To supplement his argument, Gross also provides a history and critique of the dominant modern view of emotions, expressed in Darwinism and neurobiology, in which they are considered organic, personal feelings independent of social circumstances. The result is a convincing work that rescues the study of the passions from science and returns it to the humanities and the art of rhetoric. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Scepticism About Persons in Book II of Hume’s TreatiseDonald C. AinslieBook ii of Hume’s Treatise—especially its first two Parts on the “indirect passions” of pride, humility, love, and hatred—has mystified many of its interpreters.1 Hume clearly thinks these passions are important: Not only does he devote more space to them than to his treatment of causation, but in the “Abstract” to the Treatise, he tells us that Book II (...) “contains opinions that are altogether as new and extraordinary” (T 659) as those found in Book I. And, he says, these opinions constitute “the foundation” (T 646) for his treatment of morals and politics in Book III.2 The mystery arises, however, because in the actual text of [End Page 469] Book II Hume never spells out what makes his opinions on the passions “new and extraordinary,” nor why they are foundational for his moral theory.Thus some of his interpreters, notably Norman Kemp Smith, conclude that Hume was simply mistaken in his assessment of his treatment of the passions. While his accounts of the will and of motivation (in the early Sections of Part iii of Book II) are significant, Kemp Smith takes the extended analysis of the indirect passions to spring merely from his misplaced enthusiasm for associationist psychology. As such, the philosophical lessons to be learned from the first two Parts of Book II are slim.3 Páll Árdal, in contrast, tries to construct for Hume what he seems to have omitted—a philosophical rationale for his obvious interest in the indirect passions. Árdal starts by drawing attention to the role these passions play in Hume’s moral philosophy, in particular, his repeatedly connecting the indirect passions to the moral sentiments of approval and disapproval. Árdal concludes that Hume means to equate the moral sentiments with particular kinds of indirect passions. The first two Parts of Book II are of interest, on Ardal’s reading, because it is there that he shows us how moral sentimentalism can be founded on something more fully naturalistic than Hutcheson’s somewhat mysterious “moral sense.”4I argue against Árdal’s interpretation in §2. But this reopens the problem of accounting for Hume’s interest in the indirect passions. I offer my view in §§3–5 where, like Árdal, I provide a reconstruction of Hume’s discussion of these passions in order to show how it has an underlying philosophical motivation. My claim is that Hume relies on the indirect passions to explain how we form beliefs about persons as bearers of features that make them into who [End Page 470] they are. It is by feeling an indirect passion towards someone that we think of her as more than accidentally related to some quality, such as her country, her riches, her family, or even her character traits. In support of my interpretation I point to the many parallels Hume draws between the indirect passions and the associative mechanism he offers to explain our forming causal beliefs (I.iii). And I suggest that, just as Hume’s associative explanation of causal beliefs is necessitated by his scepticism about intrinsic “necessary connexions,” so also his associative mechanism for our beliefs about persons—the indirect passions—is necessitated by a certain kind of scepticism about persons. This is not the scepticism about persons that we find in “Of personal identity” (I.iv.6), where Hume argues against the view that our perceptions inhere in a simple soul; it is rather a scepticism about there being intrinsic features of persons that define them as who they are.But, before I explain in more detail what my claim amounts to, it will help to have available a brief description of the mechanism that Hume’s takes to explain the indirect passions.1. THE MECHANISM FOR THE INDIRECT PASSIONSA passion, for Hume, is a simple impression felt in response to various circumstances. Because of their simplicity, we cannot define passions by putting their characteristic feeling into words; instead, Hume thinks, we can only delineate “such circumstances, as attend them” (T 277). Passions are indirect if those circumstances include as an outcome the focusing of attention onto a person... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 36.4 (2003) 330-352 [Access article in PDF] Liberal Irony, Rhetoric, and Feminist Thought: A Unifying Third Wave Feminist Theory Valerie R. Renegar School of Communication San Diego State University Stacey K. Sowards Department of Communication Studies California State University, San Bernardino The meanings of a feminist movement and feminism have changed significantly over the past hundred years. From the women's suffrage movement, to the Supreme Court (...) decision in Roe v. Wade, to the 1980s label "feminazi," feminist theories and movements have emphasized many different issues for a variety of reasons. In part, it is these differences that make identification with feminist principles and practices so difficult. As part of the new generation of feminists, we are often left wondering if we are good enough as feminists, if we do enough as activists, and what it is that we really stand for. Many of us have grown up with the benefits and the victories of the feminists in the second wave and feel a responsibility to continue to seek the end of oppression. However, our experiences as feminists and young women often leave us feeling angry, hopeless, and confused as to where we are supposed to go, how we are supposed to get there, and what battles we are supposed to wage as part of a feminist movement. Resolving these tensions and questions will allow us to better understand and articulate what it is that we want and need in a feminist theory. Recent and ongoing division within and among feminist movements and theories, lack of consensus, in-group fighting, and a focus on singular women's theories and issues have created problems and a lack of solidarity that is counterproductive to feminism as a whole."Third wave feminism" is a term used to describe feminists who were born in the 1960s and 1970s. Although not universally recognized as a discrete wave of feminism, the third wave is increasingly distinguishing itself in both popular culture and academic writing. 1 We believe that third wave feminism is an emerging movement that currently lacks an overarching or coherent philosophy of praxis. While this type of unifying philosophy is not necessarily required by a movement, we believe that the presence of such a theory, in the instance of third wave feminism, would be highly [End Page 330] beneficial since it could provide direction and explain the motives of young feminists who are still in the process of developing and defining their feminist beliefs and actions. Often the philosophy of a movement is not apparent until the movement is well established or has accomplished its goals. Third wave feminists, however, are in a unique position to simultaneously create and embrace a coherent philosophy while developing their feminist ideas and practices. In this essay, we argue that Richard Rorty's notion of liberal irony, as interpreted by third wave feminist experience, is a coherent philosophy of thought and action that will center the emerging feminist movement and allow it to prosper.For us, a rhetorical theory constructed from Rorty's liberal irony and pragmatism, together with various third wave feminist theories, provides the sort of solution that addresses many of our concerns about the direction of feminist theory. Rorty's philosophy of liberal ironism is compelling but has received scant attention from feminist or rhetorical theorists. A few feminist philosophers have examined a pragmatist feminism, but have largely focused on the early pragmatists, ignoring Rorty's liberal ironism entirely or discussing it only in the larger context of pragmatism (Aboulafia 1993; Hart 1993; Leffers 1993; Pappas 1993; Rooney 1993; Shuler and Tate 2001; Seigfried 1996; Sullivan 2001; Upin 1993). Donna Haraway (1990), although not dealing directly with irony from a pragmatist perspective, notes that language politics are strongly associated with feminist struggles. She argues that feminists can utilize ironic methods to negotiate identities that "seem contradictory, partial, and strategic" (197). An ironic perspective recognizes the exclusion inherent in naming and allows contradictory fusions of identity to emerge. In this way, irony blurs the boundaries of language... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume on Natural Belief and Original Principles Miriam McCormick David Hume discusses anumber ofimportantbeliefs that, althoughhe himselfnever uses the term, commentators have come to call "natural beUefs." These beliefs cannotbejustified rationally but are impossible to give up. They differ from irrational beliefs because no amount of reasoning can eliminate them. There is general agreement that such a class of beliefs exists for Hume. There is differing opinion, however, concerning (...) which beliefs count as "natural." In particular, there has been much debate as to whether beliefin God is "natural" for Hume. Much of this disagreement concerning natural beliefs arises because not enough attention is paid to the different uses of"natural" in Hume. On his analysis, certain characteristics may be called "natural" insofar as their causes are found in human nature. These characteristics can be explained by reference to what Hume calls the original principles ofhuman nature. But they need not be necessary or unavoidable. It is only the original principles themselves, for Hume, that are universal and necessary for all human beings. And it is only those beliefs which necessarily result from original principles that are "natural" in a second sense: these beliefs are, according to Hume, "inseparable from the species." Only beliefs which are natural in this second sense are indispensable despite their lack ofrational grounds. Certain other beliefs, such as belief in God, are "natural" in some weaker sense, but are often taken to be "natural" in this second sense. My aim is to distinguish the different senses of"natural" for Hume and so determine which beliefs are "natural" in which senses. Natural belief Norman Kemp Smith was the first to discuss the existence ofa special class of beliefs in Hume.1 Kemp Smith first uses the term "natural beUef" in reference to the beliefin the existence ofbody. This belief, he says, is a natural belief"due to the ultimate instincts or propensities that constitute our human nature" (Kemp Smith, 151). Furthermore, this particularbeUefis not founded on reason or sense experience, yet no amount ofreasoning will cause us to give it up.2 "Certain beliefs or judgments," says Kemp Smith, "can be shown to be 'natural', 'inevitable', indispensable' and are thus removed beyond the reach of sceptical doubt" (p. 152). Two other beliefs which Kemp Smith says Volume XLX Number 1 103 MIRIAM McCORMICK Hume considere natural are belief in causal action and belief in the identity or unity ofthe self. The primary purpose of Kemp Smith's article is to demonstrate "that the establishment of a purely naturalistic conception ofhuman nature by the thorough subordination ofreason to feeling and instinct is a determining factor in Hume's philosophy" (p. 150). He developed this thesis in reaction to T. H. Green and other commentators who had claimed that Hume "merely develops to a sceptical conclusion the principles which he inherits from Locke and Berkeley" (Kemp Smith, 149). The discussion of "natural belief " is meant to show that Green is mistaken when he claims that Hume denies the existence of the external world and ofthe self. It is true that Hume says reason will not show us that such things exist. But because reason is not supreme for Hume, says Kemp Smith, we need not worry that such beliefs are not justified. Because Hume does not encourage us to give up such fundamental beliefs or even think that such an enterprise is possible, Kemp Smith maintains that, rather than being sceptical about such beliefs, Hume defends them from sceptical attack. There are certain behefs that it makes no sense to question. The doctrine of natural belief serves as an illustration of Kemp Smith's claim that Hume subordinates reason to feeling and instinct. Because his discussion òf "natural belief" is used mainly to illustrate a particular point, Kemp Smith does little more than offer a description of such beliefs. He tells us that these beliefs are inevitable and indispensable, but he does not indicate how one determines which beliefs are natural. Criteria are given for what Hume counts as a natural belief, but the means for determining ifa belief satisfies these criteria are not offered. With the publication of R. J. Butler's article, "Natural Belief and the Enigma... (shrink)

David Hume's writings on history, politics and philosophy have shaped thought to this day. His bold scepticism ranged from common notions of the 'self' to criticism of standard theistic proofs. He insisted on grounding understandings of popular religious beliefs in human psychology rather than divine revelation, and he aimed to disentangle philosophy from religion in order to allow the former to pursue its own ends. In this book, Professors David W Purdie and Peter S Fosl decipher some of Hume's (...) most challenging texts for the modern reader, while preserving the sharp intellect and undaunted nerve for which Hume is famous. Hume's spirit is brought alive for contemporary times and his writing is made accessible for its intended audience: the general public."-- Back cover. (shrink)

ABSTRACT The phrase “Enlightenment rhetoric” typically denotes discourses bent on rejecting classical oratorical styles in favor of purportedly scientific ones. Likewise, scholars often associate Enlightenment rhetorical styles with the scientific epistemologies that emerged in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. This article reconsiders Enlightenment rhetoric by analyzing David Hume’s 1742 essay “Of Eloquence.” More specifically, the article argues that the Scottish Enlightenment context necessitated a rhetoric that compensated for the discursive limitations of new scientific worldviews. In so doing, the article argues (...) that Hume verbalizes the transcendent dimension of classical eloquence in ways commensurate with the emphasis on perspicuity emerging in English culture, a rhetorical maneuver that the author calls discursive transcendence. Hume’s “Of Eloquence” thus serves as a case study demonstrating how an Enlightenment writer advanced a rhetoric that both rejects and pulls from prior rhetorical traditions, constituting a new understanding of Enlightenment rhetoric. (shrink)

In Winning Votes by Abusing Reason, Jamie Carlin Watson combines research from epistemology, political philosophy, psychology, and economics in constructing a sophisticated argument that challenges unspoken commitments held by those engaged in politics. Watson’s main focus is what he calls the ‘problem of political rhetoric’. He asks whether we can ever really learn anything from the testimony of politicians. He is not optimistic. Watson argues that political rhetoric is damaging to our reasoning faculties. He sees no solution to this (...) problem, and recommends that we focus on individual or local efforts to improve our reasoning. I outline the structure of Watson’s argument before noting two potential ways we might resist his conclusion. (shrink)

This feels like a time of environmental and moral crisis without parallel.... Not only do human beings seem not to believe in anything but, despite exponential advances in information production, we do not appear to know much either. This book is a guide for everyone who feels understandably perplexed. The book considers issues as diverse as: the lure of alternative religions and belief systems; the use of the rhetoric of economics to justify amoral decisionmaking; green politics and genetically-modified crops; (...) new technology's power to preserve the status quo; and the true impetus behind the Human Genome Project. Presenting an explanation of recent findings in science and their relationship with society and politics, the book seeks to give guidance towards responsible political action. Starting from themes developed in the companion volume The Search for Mind, the author attempts to provide intellectual roots for the 'anti-capitalist' or 'anti-globalization' movement and, in particular, treats social protest as a form of knowledge-seeking. The author brings to very topical and controversial concerns some much-needed clarity. Complete with reader-friendly summaries of current thought in the biological, physical, and social sciences, this book is designed primarily for the popular market but will also appeal to those working or studying in these fields. (shrink)

Treatises of this length and care are rarely written today and in the course of Cumming's explorations there is an enormous richness of insight, commentary, and analysis of the history of liberal thought. But at the same time, it is difficult to keep the main themes of this study in clear focus. One gets the impression that Cumming originally set out to understand liberal thought as expressed by John Stuart Mill and found himself digging into origins. Dig he does, taking (...) into account in his intellectual journey through Western Civilization: Polybius, Cicero, Augustine, Petrarch, Machiavelli, Hobbes, Locke, Hume, Bentham, James Mill and many others along the way. One can learn a great deal about this western political tradition by following Cumming's patient explications and critiques. In the foreground is always John Stuart Mill and at times Cumming fosters the misimpression that Mill culminates this entire tradition. Yet Cumming's attitude toward Mill is strangely ambivalent and toward the end of this study, Cumming seems to be more fascinated with the stages of Mill's development and his mental crisis rather than with the integrity and coherence of his political philosophy. Liberal political thought has recently come in for a severe polemical thrashing and Cumming's study might have been a detailed, eloquent defense of this tradition. But the study is deficient in attempting to show how liberal thought can directly meet the numerous criticisms that have been raised from many sides. In the preface, Cumming reports that the manuscript was on the way to the typesetters during the upheaval at Columbia when police arrived on campus. This episode symbolizes the strange feeling one has that the book is dated by the time it appeared. Despite its weaknesses as an apology for liberal thought, it excels in making us sensitive to its long and vital history.--R. J. B. (shrink)

Hume’s “impressions of reflection” is a category made up of all our non-sensory feelings, including “the passions and other emotions.” These two terms for affective mental states, ‘passion’ and ‘emotion’, are both used frequently in Hume’s work, and often treated by scholars as synonymous. I argue that Hume’s use of both ‘passion’ and ‘emotion’ in his discussions of affectivity reflects a conceptual distinction implicit in his work between what I label ‘attending emotions’ and ‘fully established passions.’ The former are the (...) transient, changeable, valenced feelings that flow between perceptions and constitute their felt nature and impulse. The latter are the particular passions fully realized, with characteristic valence, and analyzed by Hume in terms of their particular belief structures and relations between ideas and impressions understood to be constituent of particular passions. The term ‘emotion’ for Hume generally denotes either the attending feeling, sometimes distinct from the passion (particularly as ‘passion’ is being used to include the associated beliefs, causes and objects), or as a synonym for a particular passion, typically when Hume is primarily referring to the felt nature of the passion. Generally speaking, ‘passion’ is a more cognitive category of affective mental state, while ‘emotion’ is more sensationalist. I will further argue that when we grant Hume the emotion/passion distinction, he can accommodate both highly sensationalist and highly cognitivist understandings of affective mental states. I finish with the application of my distinction to two key topics in Hume studies: his sympathy mechanism, and his theory of belief and motivation. (shrink)

Political polarisation in the United States offers opportunities to explore how beliefs about candidates – that they could save or destroy American society – impact people’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviour. Participants forecast their future emotional responses to the contentious 2020 U.S. presidential election, and reported their actual responses after the election outcome. Stronger beliefs about candidates were associated with forecasts of greater emotion in response to the election, but the strength of this relationship differed based on candidate preference. Trump supporters’ (...) forecast happiness more strongly related to beliefs that their candidate would save society than for Biden supporters. Biden supporters’ forecast anger and fear were more strongly related to beliefs that Trump would destroy society than vice versa. These forecasts mattered: predictions of lower happiness and greater anger if the non-preferred candidate won predicted voting, with Biden supporters voting more than Trump supporters. Generally, participants forecast more emotion than they experienced, but beliefs altered this tendency. Stronger beliefs predicted experiencing more happiness or more anger and fear about the election outcome than had been forecast. These findings have implications for understanding the mechanisms through which political polarisation and rhetoric can influence voting behaviour. (shrink)

Among the politics of belief that we encounter in Early Modern Philosophy, Hume's concept of natural belief is known as a problematic area to understand. Although Hume develops a concept of belief based on sensation and sensation, the fact that it is controversial to consider it as an empiricist method when considered together with his scepticism is related to the fact that he sees the method he develops as a natural tendency and habit rather than an inferential method. Whether (...) Hume's natural belief has an epistemic basis or not is one of the main goals of this article, while determining whether he considers religious belief as natural belief or not is among the secondary goals of this article. Our argument is that Hume treats natural belief as a non-epistemic form of belief based on emotion, and religious belief as natural belief. In our study, how the concepts of natural belief and religious belief are understood according to Hume is presented, discussions about these concepts are included, and a conclusion is reached that religious belief is natural belief according to him. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:277 HUME'S IMPRESSIONS OF BELIEF Introduction Hume's theory of belief is often taken to be fully stated in his opening remarks on the subject in A Treatise of Human Nature, Book I, Part III, Section VII: "An opinion, therefore, or belief may be most accurately defin'd, A LIVELY IDEA RELATED TO OR ASSOCIATED WITH A PRESENT IMPRESSION."1 Taking this definition as Hume's final account leaves the reader with many (...) problems. What is it for an idea to be lively? How is an idea related to or associated with an impression? Is belief really so simple a phenomenon? I argue that Hume's theory of belief is much more complex than this, and that the Treatise contains only a rough, preliminary account of belief. By the time he wrote An Enquiry Concerning the Human Understanding, Hume had developed his theory in full detail. As I show, in this latter account a belief is an intentional state involving a combination of Humean ideas and impressions. The nature of these ideas and impressions allows the mind to take note of a belief as something quite different from its other perceptions. In the Treatise, however, Hume did not have a clear understanding of how the mind could distinguish beliefs from other perceptions. He could only go so far as to say that an idea believed is livelier than other ideas. He argued that a present impression is capable of calling to mind an idea of something that has been associated with that impression in the past, and of transferring some of its own vivacity to that idea. As we look at the account of belief in the Treatise, we will see how the preliminary concepts of force and liveliness and a transference of vivacity lay the foundation for his 278 final account, yet point to a need for a fuller explication of the difference the mind notes between beliefs and other perceptions. We will see that in the Appendix to the Treatise Hume tried to work out this difference in terms of 'feeling' but this was unsuccessful without the notion of an intentional act. Finally, we will see that Hume concluded in the Enquiry that a belief is an intentional state in which a new impression of reflection arises about the idea believed. This new impression is the feeling of belief by which beliefs are distinguished from other 2 perceptions of the mind. The Account in the Treatise We begin our explication of Hume's theory of belief by looking at the account in A Treatise of Human Nature. Here Hume maintains that it is ideas which are believed, and that these beliefs differ from other ideas only in their "force and vivacity" (T 96). This force and vivacity is a result of the believed idea's relation to an impression. These theses lead us to the familiar Treatise definition of belief as "A LIVELY IDEA RELATED TO OR ASSOCIATED WITH A PRESENT IMPRESSION" (T 96). Hume begins his analysis of belief in Section VII of the Treatise by stating that "the idea of an object is an essential part of the belief of it, but not the whole" (T 94). The suggestion is that there is more to being in a state of belief than merely entertaining the idea believed. The simple phrase "belief o_f_ an object" leads us to presume that it is ideas that are believed, or that we have beliefs o_f ideas. We will need to examine Hume's meaning of 'idea' in enough depth to understand the role it plays in the theory of belief. 279 Hume gives some examples of the way we may conceive ideas without believing them: Suppose a person present with me, who advances propositions, to which I do not assent, that Caesar dy'd in his bed, that silver is more fusible than lead, or mercury heavier than gold; 'tis evident, that notwithstanding my incredulity, I clearly understand his meaning, and form all the same ideas, which he forms (T 95). Note that Hume says one may form all the same ideas as another. Yet the ideas one forms are just what Hume had earlier called the propositions one... (shrink)

When we see the way that the parts of the Appendix concerning belief hang together, we can understand how and why Hume moved from saying that belief is a vivid idea to saying that belief is a sui generis feeling. In the Appendix to the Treatise, Hume retracts his claim that perceptions with the same object only vary with respect to vivacity. In material in the appendix that he tells his reader to insert in Book 1, he explains his reasons: (...) the vivacity connected to belief is different in kind from that from the vivacity connected to poetry. Poetry can be more vivid, in its way, than belief. Since Hume’s main arguments for the thesis that beliefs are vivid ideas in the main body of the Treatise depend on the assumption that ideas with the same object only vary in vivacity, he owes us new arguments from his claim. He provides various arguments for a slightly revised thesis that belief is a particular sort of vivid idea at the beginning of the Appendix. (shrink)

As the recent edition of the Wittgenstein’s Whewell’s Court Lectures shows, Wittgenstein mentioned Hume several times in the series of lectures on belief. Towards the end of the Thirties, in fact, he came across Hume’s Abstract of the Treatise, a pamphlet that Piero Sraffa and John Maynard Keynes had ‘discovered’ at the end of 1933, re-edited in 1937 and finally published in March 1938 – Sraffa, with whom Wittgenstein had an intense intercourse in 1938-1941, donated him a copy. A lexical (...) analysis of excerpts of Wittgenstein’s ET 1940 lectures strongly suggests that he read the Abstract in March-May 1940, and shows that some of the issues he discussed in his lectures at that time revolve around the peculiar definition that Hume gave in that text of the feeling of belief. (shrink)

I argue that there is a unity between Hume’s philosophical reflection and his political views and that many interesting connections can be found that illuminate both aspects of his thought. This paper highlights two of these connections. First, I argue that the conclusions Hume comes to in his political writings are natural outgrowths of his skepticism, a skepticism that recommends limitation of inquiry, modesty, moderation and openness. Most scholars who view Hume’s skepticism as informing his political views see it as (...) supporting a conservative politics, one which is concerned above all to preserve the status quo. I reject the idea that the kind of philosophical skepticism embraced by Hume leads to such conservatism. The second main aspect of the unity of Hume’s thought I discuss concerns that way in which he addresses normative questions in the epistemological and political realms. The question of what resources Hume has to evaluate some beliefs or philosophical systems as better than others, given his skeptical conclusions, is one that has been of central concern for Hume scholars. His evaluations of political systems and governments can be understood in a similar way; the principles we use to evaluate personal beliefs can also be applied in the evaluation of political systems. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Theory of Belief Michael M. Gorman Belief is a key concept in Hume's philosophy, and yet Hume's statements aboutbeliefappear to be hopelesslyinconsistent.1 Various solutions have been offered, from saying that Hume is incorrigibly confused to saying that his theory ofbeliefchanged over the course of his career. This article will focus on the question ofthe nature ofbelief and show that Hume's theory is in fact consistent. In sections 1 (...) and 2, I will separate those passages where Hume discusses the nature of beUeffrom those where he discusses other questions. In sections 3-6, 1 will examine his theory ofthe nature ofbelief. Finally, in section 7, 1 will briefly look at his theories on other questions concerning belief. 1.Hume's statements about belief can be divided into at least nine different categories. Hume says that a beliefis: 1.an idea conceived in a certain manner (e.g., E 49, T 96); 2.that certain manner ofconception itself(e.g., E 49, T 97); 3.an idea that feels a certain way (e.g., E 48, T 103); 4.that certain feeling itself(e.g., E 49, T 624, 629); 5.an idea that has a great influence on the mind (e.g, T 118-20); 6.an act ofmind rendering realities influential on the mind (e.g., E 49, T 629); 7.a lively idea related to an impression (e.g., T 96); 8.a lively manner of conceiving an idea, which manner arises from an impression (e.g., E 50); 9.something that makes ideas forceful and vivacious (e.g., T 101, 627). If one were in a really bad mood, one could probably split Hume's formulations into even more categories.2 2.One solution wouldbe to saythat Hume ishopelessly confused.3 This is not accurate, however. The first thingtobe done is to notice thatonly the statements belonging to the first four categories are actually answers to the question, What is the nature of beUef? Hume tells us that abeUefis: an ideaconceived in acertainmanner, theverymanner ofconception ofsuch an idea, an idea thatfeels a certain way, thevery feeling of such an idea. To explicate Hume's theory of the nature of Volume XLX Number 1 89 MICHAEL M. GORMAN beUef, I will show that the second formulation is a poor version ofthe first and that the fourth formulation is a poor version ofthe third—in other words, that there are reallyonlytwo theorieshere, notfour. Then I will reconcile these two theories. As for Hume's discussion ofother questions concerning belief, the statementsin the fifth and sixth categories address the question, What does à belief do? Those in the seventh and eighth categories take for granted the statements in the first and second categories respectively and address the further question, What causes beliefs? Those in the ninth category are probably cases of bad writing. All these will be examined in section 7. 3. Let us look at the texts that fit into the first and second categories listed in section 1. These express what can be called Hume's "manner-of-conception theory" (MCT). First, Hume says that a belief is a certain kind ofidea, namely an idea conceived in a certain manner. He describes this manner ofconception by saying that such an idea is conceived with a high degree of force and vivacity, liveliness, and so forth. This analysis rests on Hume's distinction between the content of an idea and the manner in which the idea is conceived. [A]s 'tis certain there is a great difference betwixt the simple conception ofthe existence ofan object, and the beliefofit, and as this difference lies not in the parts or composition of the idea, which we conceive; it follows, that it must lie in the manner, in which we conceive it. (T 94-95) One can believe that something is the case, or one can simply conceive ofits being the case without assenting to it. In both cases, Hume says, the content ofthe idea must be the same. Otherwise, both making up one's mind and disagreeingwith someone wouldbe impossible: making up one's mind would be a transition from thinking about one thing to thinking about... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.3 (2001) 351-383 [Access article in PDF] Hume's Pyrrhonian Skepticism and the Belief in Causal Laws Graciela De Pierris Hume endorses in no uncertain terms the normative use of causal reasoning. The most striking example of this commitment is Hume's argument in the Enquiry against the possibility of miracles. The argument sanctions, in particular, the use of scientific reflection on uniform experience issuing (...) in causal laws of nature (E 114): "A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined." 1 These words should give us pause; for how can Hume so confidently say, after his skeptical conclusions concerning our causal beliefs, that "a firm and unalterable experience has established" the laws of nature, and that we can therefore produce "proofs" against miracles? The Treatise gives rise to the same puzzle. In this text, too, Hume confidently prescribes methodical reflection based on causal reasoning. For example, in Book One, Part Three, Section Fifteen, Hume offers eight "Rules by which to judge of causes and effects." These rules are more than descriptions of our natural causal inferences. They are meant to guide us in making better causal inferences; in Hume's words they "ought to regulate" our probable reasoning since (T 149): "by them we learn to distinguish the accidental circumstances from the efficacious causes." 2Moreover, Hume consistently takes Newtonian science as a model for the proper employment of causal inferences in inquiries into matters of fact and, [End Page 351] in particular, as a model to be followed in his own science of human nature. 3 This paradigm of what the science of nature ought to be is understood by Hume as an inductive, experimental inquiry. 4 In the Enquiry, for example, Hume uses the label "sciences" for "politics, natural philosophy, physic, chemistry, &c." and in the preceding discussion argues that these sciences are not a priori but are based on causal reasoning (E 164-165). Thus, there are for Hume inquiries into matters of fact and existence that amount to more than blindly following natural propensities and habit. The sciences and many of our causal inferences in common life involve more than mere belief as a sentiment. They involve, in addition, careful reflection that results in improved causal inferences and thus provides normative standards. Yet, in thus upholding the normative use of causal reasoning in science and in everyday life, Hume appears to contradict his own radical skeptical conclusions concerning our knowledge of causation and induction. I here propose a novel way to resolve this puzzle.To acknowledge the existence of a puzzle, however, amounts to accepting the now controversial view that Hume provides, and takes at face value, a radical skeptical argument concerning our knowledge of causation and induction. 5 Moreover, the attempt to resolve this puzzle involves rejecting the suggestion [End Page 352] that Hume, without awareness or concern, happily holds flatly inconsistent views. 6 It also goes against the more sophisticated suggestion that Hume lightly alternates among different psychological moods, or perhaps different perspectives, which might eventually issue in results that contradict each other but are sufficiently localized so as to prevent serious conflict. Such a view might lead us to conceive Hume's texts as an unstructured and arbitrary patchwork of reflections, driven by different psychological moods or by the embellishments of a radiant literary style. This kind of reading is unacceptable as an interpretative tool, however, as H. J. Paton has acutely noted in his criticism of the patchwork interpretation of Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. 7 For such a reading would place no constraints at all on the task of establishing which parts of Hume's text belong to which moods or perspectives. The suggestion that Hume offers an unstructured patchwork of reflections masks the novel and systematic distinction Hume draws between his radical philosophical... (shrink)

The development of collective beliefs via informational and reputational cascades represents a way of shortcircuiting the difficulties related to the collective action of ‘latent groups’ to ensure the promotion of their particular interests. This essay focuses on the protection of consumers, whose quality of the life has never been so high, despite the prevalence of hazardous products.Rationally ignorant individuals form their opinions by conforming to those of others; this can take two forms, either by consolidating their personal judgement or their (...) private information, or by pure conformist behaviour. It may even be that such individuals rarely hesitate, if necessary, to admit beliefs that they do not actually hold in order to avoid being ostracised by others. ‘Latent groups’ activists manipulate the process of formation of beliefs in order to bring about a predominant opinion on any given issue. Armed with the asset of the prevailing opinion, pressure can be exerted upon politicians in view of obtaining regulations and subsidies which would protect the ‘latent group’ of which they claim to be the representatives.This is the new face of collective action where the “politically correct” replaces physical violence or the strike. This way of shaping public opinion could have a beneficial outcome if it were not founded on erroneous information or led to a violation of individual rights due to regulation. However, this not the case. The very leitmotif of this method is, in fact, to bring about regulation which, by definition, violates private lives. In any case, it is dangerous because the manipulation of public opinion by these activists implies an intensive use of rhetoric, distorting the perception of risk, which in turn involves the circulation of misleading information in order to create a cascade modifying public opinion in favor of the proposed regulation, rather than informing the public on the potential risks and letting them insure freely against it if they judge to do so. But for the activist the end justifies the means. Thus, this manipulation of public opinion is a danger to the notion of modern democracy, already so sensitive to the pertaining to the majority.La formation des croyances par le biais des cascades d’information et de réputation est un moyen de courtcircuiter les difficultés liées à l’action collective des groupes latents pour assurer la promotion de leurs intérêts particuliers. Dans le cadre de cet essai est analysée la protection des consommateurs, dont la valeur de la vie est élevée, contre les produits à risque.Les individus rationnellement ignorants forment leurs opinions en se conformant aux croyances des autres, soit pour conforter leur jugement personnel ou leurs informations privées, soit par conformisme pur. Il se peut même que les individus n’hésitent pas, s’il le faut, à afficher de fausses croyances, pour ne pas être frappés d’ostracisme par les autres.Les activistes des “groupes latents” manipulent le processus de formation des croyances pour faire émerger une opinion majoritaire sur un problème spécifique. Grâce à cette opinion majoritaire ils vont pouvoir faire pression auprès des hommes politiques pour obtenir une réglementation et des subventions à leur propre profit dans le but de protéger le “groupe latent” dont ils prétendent être les représentants. Ce sont les nouvelles formes d’action collective où le politiquement correct remplace la violence physique ou le piquet de grève.Cette façon de former l’opinion publique pourrait avoir des conséquences bénéfiques si elle n’était pas fondée sur des informations erronées et si elle n’aboutissait pas à une violation des droits individuels par la réglementation. Or ce n’est pas le cas. Elle est faite justement pour faire émerger une réglementation qui par définition viole la vie privée des gens. Par ailleurs, elle est dangereuse parce que la manipulation de l’opinion publique par ces activistes implique un usage intensif de figures de rhétorique, de biais dans la perception des risques, de diffusion de fausses informations dans le but d’enclencher une cascade qui va modifier l’opinion publique en faveur de la réglementation et non pas dans le but d’éclairer le public sur les véritables risques encourus, la fin justifiant les moyens.Cette manipulation des croyances est alors un danger pour la démocratie politique contemporaine déjà si sensible à l’opinion majoritaire. (shrink)

What kind of rhetoric frames French reproductive policy debate? Who does such policies exclude? Through an examination of the “American import” of gender studies, along with an analysis of France’s Catholic heritage and secular politics, I argue that an unwavering belief in sexual difference as the foundation of French society defines the productive reproductive citizen. Sylviane Agacinski is perhaps the most vocal public philosopher who has framed the terms of reproductive policy debate in France, building an oppositional platform to (...) reproductive technology around anthropological assertions of sexual difference. This paper engages with Agacinski to examine rhetorical claims of sexual difference and how such claims delayed passage of France’s revised bioethics legislation that extends access of assisted reproductive technology (ART) to “all women.” Though the “PMA pour toutes” [ART for all women] legislation was eventually passed, such rhetoric motivated the explicit exclusion of all trans person from its extension, thus hardly permitting ART to all women. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript by Merold WestphalM. Jamie FerreiraMerold Westphal. Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript.” West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 1996. Pp. xiii + 261. Cloth, $32.95. Paper, $16.95.The Purdue University Press Series in the History of Philosophy describes itself as attempting to provide insight into a philosopher by means of a focus on a single (...) major text. Such a focus is unusual for a series in the history of philosophy, and Westphal’s [End Page 144] accomplishment in this study is a fine example of how fruitfully this can be done. Commentary on over six hundred pages of Kierkegaard’s Postscript is presented in ten manageable chapters, which follow the order of the Postscript and deal with segments of it ranging from as few as twelve pages to as many as one hundred and seventy-five pages. The result is a commentary which can wonderfully guide students through the Postscript in its entirety, or through the assignment of individual chapters to accompany discrete reading selections. Westphal’s discussions are informed by an unusually wide-ranging knowledge of the history of philosophy—he considers the text not only in relation to Plato, Aristotle, Hume, Kant, and Hegel, as others commentators have, but also brings to this work his clear strengths in phenomenological, existential, and postmodern thought (so we get useful comparisons with Gadamer, Derrida, Levinas, Heidegger, Husserl, Merleau-Ponty, and Sartre, among others). Lying behind Westphal’s entire approach to the book is his desire to address the two most common major criticisms of Kierkegaard’s thought, namely, that it is individualist and irrationalist. Thus, the major perspective from which everything is approached is the tension between the fallible yet responsible self—more precisely, the tension between individual and society, and the tension between irrationalist (voluntarist, blind) and rationalist. Westphal does a superb job of laying out the diversity of protests Climacus is registering in the Postscript—against Platonic intellectualism, against systematic philosophical speculation, and against the rhetorical compromising embodied in the “priest-orator.” There are, of course (as one would expect), sensible, suggestive, illuminating, and detailed exegeses of passages concerning all the significant themes associated with Climacus (approximation, appropriation, leap, direct communication, second reflection, dialectic, etc). Westphal examines the Postscript in the light of the distinction between Socratic religion and the non-Socratic (Christian) alternative found in the earlier Philosophical Fragments, to which this Postscript is an admittedly peculiar postscript, and employs material from much of Kierkegaard’s other work, including journal entries. With respect to the (in)famous category of leap, Westphal incorporates contemporary discussions of volitionalism and presents a fine summary of ways in which willing (decision) can be viewed as indirect, yet allowing the relevance of an ethics of belief. In fact, regarding even the commentary on “Truth Is Subjectivity,” where one might feel nothing new could be said, he manages to be innovative, by identifying “four moments” in the presentation of a theory of subjectivity (a satire, a parable, a definition, and a portrait) which make the chapter much more manageable for teaching. After considering Climacus’s presentation of the relation between Religiousness A and Religiousness B, Westphal appends a discussion of his own creation, Religiousness C (Chapter XIV). But all of this discussion would be unhelpful to a reader who does not fully appreciate the role of pseudonymity and indirect communication in Kierkegaard’s works; so Westphal prefaces his entire discussion with a fine chapter on pseudonymity which can be used even in courses where the entire book is not required reading. This chapter, relating pseudonymity to twentieth-century discussions of themes such as the effacement of the author of a text and the forfeiture of the privilege of authorship, is part of a three-chapter introduction setting the Postscript in relation to Kierkegaard’s biography, pseudonymity, and the familiar theory of the aesthetic, ethical, and religious stages. This entire introduction is written in a remarkably [End Page 145] engaging style which will surely seduce readers new to Kierkegaard and his creation, Johannes Climacus. For example, Westphal announces that “the flow of Regina’s... (shrink)

Philosophy has long been fascinated by miracles, and with good reason. Where, however, the problem of the miracle once offered unparalleled insight into the inner workings of natural laws and of human knowledge, today, the attention commanded by it is essentially political. The sovereign’s miraculous suspension is the most well studied of these political dimensions, but this formulation is, in fact, ill-suited to the complexities inherent in the concept of the miracle. Political theology understands the miracle poorly, for it captures (...) only the inaugural movement of exception; it knows nothing of the social and political conditions it inspires. A key claim defended in this article is that the miracle possesses continuing interest for philosophy precisely because it lies in the heart of contemporary political formations, instituting a bond that tethers a collective to its present. It is thus more interesting as a figure of inception than of exception. The miraculous is uniformly distinguished as the unengendered, the neutral point of equilibrium against which any distribution of beings is measured. This is the meaning given the miraculous in the thought of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, and this article frames the political aspect of that theme by developing their concept of miraculation, which foregrounds the movement of inception. The article works out a conceptual genealogy, tracing the descent of the miracle back from Deleuze and Guattari to Baruch Spinoza and David Hume. Each contributes an element essential for the constitution of miraculation. It is argued that the miracle has always bound ‘desire and the social’, though in diverse ways. (shrink)

"The picture of Hume clinging timidly to a raft of custom and artifice, because, poor skeptic, he has no alternative, is wrong," writes John Stewart. "Hume was confident that by experience and reflection philosophers can achieve true principles." In this revisionary work Stewart surveys all of David Hume's major writings to reveal him as a liberal moral and political philosopher. Against the background of seventeenth-and eighteenth-century history and thought, Hume emerges as a proponent not of conservatism but of reform. Stewart (...) first presents the dilemma over morals in the modern natural-law school, then examines the new approach to moral and political philosophy adopted by Hume's precursors Shaftesbury, Mandeville, Hutcheson, and Butler. Illuminating Hume's explanation of the standards and rules that should govern private and public life, the author challenges interpretations of Hume's philosophy as conservative by demonstrating that he did not dismiss reason as a key factor determining right and wrong in moral and political contexts. Stewart goes on to show that Hume viewed private property, the market, contracts, and the rule of law as essential to genuine civilized society, and explores Hume's criticism of contemporary British beliefs concerning government, religion, commerce, international relations, and social structure. Originally published in 1992. The Princeton Legacy Library uses the latest print-on-demand technology to again make available previously out-of-print books from the distinguished backlist of Princeton University Press. These editions preserve the original texts of these important books while presenting them in durable paperback and hardcover editions. The goal of the Princeton Legacy Library is to vastly increase access to the rich scholarly heritage found in the thousands of books published by Princeton University Press since its founding in 1905. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:128 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY The result is that this Hellenistic-Middle Age syncretism has had a far-reaching influence upon Paracelsus's thought. Because he was in no way a systematic philosopher, his writings are full of contradictions, developments, unitarian and dualistic tendencies, theistic and pantheistic trends, Christian and pagan elements, spiritualism, and occultism. According to Pagel, the originality of Paracelsus is not to be found in detailed discoveries and theories but (...) in his attempt to create the great synthesis of the fundamental correlations of things above and below throughout the whole realm of nature and medicine. By that, medicine and alchemy were given a new direction. The work closes with five pictures and a subject index. As one expects from an author like Pagel, this book shows a profound knowledge of the text material. It should be emphasized that the relevance is by no means limited to the field of the history of medicine, but that it is equally important for the history of philosophy, religion, and theology. HANs DIETER B~TZ Claremont Graduate School Hume's Philosophy of Belief: A Study of His First Inquiry. By Antony Flew. (New York: The Humanities Press, 1961. Pp. ix -~ 286. $6.00.) This book, neither a commentary nor an independent work, holds a place intermediate between the two, and a place that is to be heartily welcomed. It is not a commentary because, though it treats in sequence the chief topics of Hume's Inquiry Concerning the Human Understanding, there is no attempt to discuss the full text in detail. For example, Section III, "Of the/kssociation of Ideas," is all but ignored. The nature of Flew's book can best be grasped in terms of his two stated purposes, the first of which is to consider Hume's Inquiry "as a book standing on its own, rather than as a miscellany of appendices, restatements, and irrelevant notoriety-hunting insertions" (p. 15). The second purpose, which explains the intermediate status of Flew's study, is "to take Hume's arguments as starting points for discussions of the main philosophical issues which he selected for treatment in this Inquiry" (p. 16). In fulfilling this second purpose what Flew does is not merely to expound Hume's positions in Hume's terms but to expound them by considering whether they are tenable, and in studies of traditional philosophers this kind of consideration, as an alternative to plain exposition, is always to be welcomed. It ought, however, to be said that "main philosophical issues which Hume selected" does not mean main philosophical issues which the Inquiry can be read as provoking but for the most part just those issues named in the section titles of Hume's work. The first question apt to arise concerning such a study as Flew's is why discuss Hume's theories and contentions concerning belief and understanding only as put forth in the Inquiry. Flew offers no satisfactory answer to this question, which he does not distinguish from the closely associated question, answered at length: Why focus on the first Inquiry? In his first chapter, Flew observes that the Inquiry merits special study because it is much more than a radical abridgement of Book I of Hume's A Treatise of Human Nature. For one thing, a good quarter of the Inquiry is occupied with topics not considered in the Treatise, the topics of miracles and of providence. And for another, the program of the Inquiry is not the same as that of the earlier work, though both programs intersect in that the aim, proposed in the Introduction of the Treatise, to pursue "the science of man," reappears in the Inquiry, Section I, as the aim to discover "the secret springs and principles, by which the human mind is actuated in its operations." But the Inquiry is primarily polemical, whereas the Treatise aspires ambitiously to be scientific, with Hume daring "to march up directly to the capital or center of these sciences [of Logic, Morals, Criticism, and Politics]; which being once masters of, we may everywhere else hope for an easy victory." In contrast the concern uppermost in the later Inquiry is to carry a "war into the... (shrink)

RESUMEN Aún no se ha explorado si el potencial comunicativo del principio humeano de simpatía se limita al intercambio de sentimientos y emociones o si permite también compartir creencias. Mostraremos que Hume considera esta última posibilidad tanto a partir de la universalidad de la naturaleza humana y del carácter inherentemente social del hombre, como de la existencia de una interconexión entre pensamientos y sentimientos. Contrariamente a la opinión de diversos autores, afirmamos además que la experiencia propia no es condición de (...) posibilidad para poner en acto el principio de simpatía, sino que podemos recibir los sentimientos y creencias de los demás aunque no contemos con experiencia similar. ABSTRACT It has not yet been explored whether the communicational power of the Humean principle of sympathy is limited to conveying feelings and emotions or it also allows sharing beliefs. I will show that Hume considers the latter possibility both by means of the universality of human nature and the inherently social character of man, and the interconnection between thoughts and feelings. Contrary to the opinion of several authors, I will also argue that our personal experience is not a necessary condition to start up the principle of sympathy, but we can receive feelings and beliefs from other people even though we do not have previous similar experience. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:94. HUME'S EXPLANATION OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF1 In The Natural History of Religion, David Hume offers a not unsophisticated account of the fact that persons hold religious beliefs. In so doing, he produces an explanatory system analogous to that which occurs concerning causal belief, belief in 'external objects', and belief in an enduring self in the Treatise ¦ The explanation of the occurrence of religious belief is more detailed than (...) the explanation provided in the other cases just mentioned. In the Natural History, Hume devotes a short volume to explaining religious belief, while in the Treatise the causal, external object, and enduring self beliefs merit 2 but long sections. More important, however, than length of treatment is the fact that the pattern of explanation is identical in each instance. The Natural History could be embedded without categorial clash into the Treatise, perhaps as Book Four with"fifteen sections, and each formerly separate volume would shed light on the program and tactics of the other. My interest here is in the epistemic features of the explanatory system Hume developed in the Natural History. Hume forthrightly proclaims that The Natural History Of Religion is in fact an attempt to explain the occurrence of religious belief. He writes: What those principles are, which give rise to the original belief, and what those accidents and causes are, which direct its operation, is the subject of our present enquiry.4 (NHR21) Original belief here does duty for "original religious belief", and as he takes religious belief to be nearly but not altogether universal in scope and astonishingly diverse in object, he supposes the principle, or cause, of such belief to be secondary in the sense that its operation is (so to say) defeasible and its product diversified. Hume's powerful critique of the argument from design in Sections II 95. through VIII of the Dialogues is not the only reason for doubting that his occasional kind remarks concerning it should be taken as indicating that he supposed it sound and valid. The very fact that Hume wrote a book intended to explain the occurrence of religious belief by identifying as its cause a built-in principle and its eliciting stimuli should give us pause about Hume's apparent acceptance of something like the argument from design. For while in the Natural History he says that: The whole frame of nature bespeaks an intelligent author; and no ¦ rational enquirer can, after serious reflection, suspend his belief a moment with regard to the primary principles of genuine Theism and Religion. (NHR21) He speaks, not of a conclusion having been proved true, but of a belief having been rendered unsuspendable. Further, neither we nor Hume will ordinarily offer a causal account of the fact that a person has a belief unless there is doubt that the person has sufficient reason for holding it. He does not, for example, offer any such explanation of our acceptance of sincere present-tense first person psychological reports, concerning the truth (indeed, the incorrigibility ) of which he in the Treatise confidently affirms : For since all actions and sensations of the mind are known to us by consciousness, they must necessarily appear in every particular what they are, and be what they appear. Every thing that enters the mind, being in rea lity perception, 'tis impossible any thing should to feeling appear different. This were to suppose that even where we are most intimately conscious, we might be mistaken. (T190) Or, even more modestly, and without assuming a causal-account and a sufficient-reason-account of a belief to be competing (or even necessarily different) explanations, we may note that Hume proposes to explain the occurrence of religious belief by reference to principle and eliciting stimuli without making reference to reasons or arguments as items possessing epistemic function or 96. evidential force, but only as items capable of triggering a built-in response. That this is_ his tactic I have argued rather fully on another occasion; here I will focus only on the general pattern of Hume's explanation of religious belief. Hume endeavors to explain religious belief without supposing it (in any of its forms) to be true as well as without supposing it... (shrink)

Perhaps it is best to begin on a semi-autobiographical note. In my liberal days, Mill's arguments in On Liberty for freedom of speech struck me as a paradigm of rationality: the force and eloquence of his presentation, I then thought, could not fail to impress themselves on any mature member of our species. But I am a Marxist now, and more and more of my former political beliefs now strike me as less and less tenable. It was considerations such as (...) the one that follows which have recently led me to modify drastically, and in some cases abandon entirely, my former political views vis à vis the question of freedom of speech.Whenever there is an ascendant class, a large portion of the morality of the country emenates from its class interests and its feelings of class superiority. The morality between Spartans and Helots, between planters and negroes, between princes and subjects, between nobles and returiers, between men and women, has been for the most part the creation of these class interests and feelings …. (shrink)

Rachel Cohon's Hume is a moral sensing theorist, who holds both that moral qualities are mind-dependent and that there is such a thing as moral knowledge. He is an anti-rationalist about motivation, arguing that reason alone does not motivate, but allows that both beliefs and passions are motivating. And he is both a descriptive and a normative moral theorist who, despite having resources for putting checks on our sentimentally-based moral evaluations, does end up with a kind of a relativistic account (...) of the virtues and vices. Professor Cohon's arguments in Hume's Morality1 are tight and vigorous. Anyone working on these . (shrink)

Understandably, given the interpretive challenges posed by the dialogue form, the focus of David Hume's interest in religion in the Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion can be difficult to pinpoint.1 Much Hume scholarship on the Dialogues has traditionally suffered from two major shortcomings. First, its treatment of Hume's interest in religion is primarily theoretical or speculative, as though Hume were concerned above all to determine the nature of "true religion," say, or to dismiss religious belief altogether as simply irrational. Such scholarship (...) regards the Dialogues as a vehicle for delivering a theoretical or epistemological treatment of questions concerning the nature and existence of God, and has little... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Sally Is a Block of IceRevis(it)ing the Figure of Woman in PhilosophyRobyn FerrellThere is a metaphor made famous in the analytic philosophical literature by John Searle et al.: “Sally is a block of ice.” I met this metaphor first as an undergraduate student in philosophy of language classes. I remember, then, feeling a wordless anxiety for Sally, for the “tone” of this example interrupting, but not interrogated by, the (...) discussion it was recruited to illustrate. Later, I met Sally again, in papers given at philosophy conferences on metaphor in which, each time, this mention of Sally struck me as pointed but not observed.John Searle claims that to say “Sally is a block of ice” is to mean “Sally is an extremely unemotional and unresponsive person,” But this seems disingenuous, since the color in the metaphor comes from innuendo of a sexual character, the echoes of the Ice Queen, etc. And no doubt this is one reason why Searle would have adopted it, because it introduces the rhetorical color of sexual intrigue into an apparently technical discourse in the philosophy of language.But in his paper, this metaphor, “Sally is a block of ice,” features along with other metaphors only as an example of the trope. She is there in the text to illustrate Searle’s thesis that metaphor has meaning only because what he calls “speaker’s meaning” and “sentence meaning” are two very different things. On this view, “words have only the meanings they have,” and it is speakers uttering them “in a way that departs from what they actually mean” that allows the metaphor to operate. [End Page 194]Why would the speaker say anything other than what he meant? Why doesn’t he say, “Sally is an extremely unemotional and unresponsive person”? Since the “actual meaning” of language remains unchanged by the use of metaphor in an example of it, the interesting effect of this theory of metaphor is that the speaker can still say that, while he may have said, “Sally is a block of ice,” he didn’t mean it.Sally Is a Metaphor“Sally is a block of ice”: this evocative metaphor, this provocative figure, conjures for me the dilemma that women in philosophy have found, seeking a philosophical account of identity for an identity politics while also trying to find a place for themselves in the academy. Sally is a figure haunting the practice of English-speaking philosophy, where women are grudgingly admitted but, as Genevieve Lloyd has pointed out, disadvantaged by “inclusion without recognition of our difference.”Unless she is frozen on the slab at the morgue, Sally is not obviously a block of ice. But if Sally were a block of ice, if her identity were as a block of ice, and if the copulative form accurately described her in her essence, as “a block of ice,” why would she appear to us in physical form to be a woman?Between “This is Sally” and “Sally is a block of ice” lies a metaphysics of identity, stemming from the way that certain European languages tolerate the copula form to represent divergent senses, the “to be” of identity and the “to be” of attribution. I’ve written about the impact of this copula form for sexual difference elsewhere (Ferrell 2006). While the copula assigns objects to subjects, it does so in an ambiguous manner. Sometimes we say things such as: “Meg Ryan is Sally in the movie When Harry Met Sally on Channel 7 Sunday night.” Meg Ryan is Sally in the sense that she performs Sally. So, is Sally playing a part, then, when “Sally is a block of ice”?Judith Butler would likely say she was, her femininity a masquerade (Butler 1990). Is Sally playing a part when “Sally is Sally”? Nietzsche would say so: “[A]round every profound spirit a mask is continually growing” (Nietzsche 1968). Nietzsche incriminated grammar or syntax in the reproduction of metaphysics, claiming philosophers are particularly gullible in this regard: “[T]hey always believe in reason as in a piece of the metaphysical world itself, this backward belief always reappears in them as an all-powerful regression” (ibid., cited... (shrink)

This chapter contains section titled: References Further Reading.