Dennett’s story “Where am I?” is used to set up the difficulty of locating the self in the natural world. The story is told from a first-person point of view in which the narrator maintains his identity across exchanges of brain and body, but there is no physical thing in the story that can act as bearer of his identity. The story seems to present a dilemma between Cartesian dualism and Dennett’s a “no-self” view. This chapter argues for a third (...) option. Prepersonal processes in the brain stabilize separable conceptions of self and world out of patterns in sensory information. The conception of self starts out as a mere sensorimotor point of view but gradually develops into something richer. Seeing how the first-person point of view arises is seeing how the self arises, because the self is nothing but the proper subject of a first-person point of view. (shrink)

The editors welcome letters from readers, although we cannot guarantee that all will be published. To ensure timeliness, correspondents must respond to an article within seven weeks and not exceed two double‐spaced pages. Letters become the property of the editors and may be edited and shortened at our discretion.

Originally published in 1957, this book collects together large sections of important tracts from a variety of political documents, particularly those concerned with democracy, communism, Protestantism or Catholicism. The extracts come from a wide range of authors including Bertrand Russell, Karl Marx, John Locke and Pope Pius XII. This book will be of value to anyone seeking an overview of the key political divisions in the late 20th century or who is interested in political theory generally.

I argue that Scotus's formal distinction is a mereological fusion relation rather than an identity relation. I construct mereological models which adequately represent Scotus's theory.

What are words? What makes two token words tokens of the same word-type? Are words abstract entities, or are they (merely) collections of tokens? The ontology of words tries to provide answers to these, and related questions. This article provides an overview of some of the most prominent views proposed in the literature, with a particular focus on the debate between type-realist, nominalist, and eliminativist ontologies of words.

The late Colin Macleod's commentary on Iliad 24 has rightly received praise for its sensitivity to the nuances of Homeric language and its appreciation of the entire poem as a carefully constructed work of art. Although reluctant to accept the more radical solutions proposed by the ‘oral’ school, Macleod showed himself fully aware of the contribution made by the oral theory towards elucidating the history of the epic. Nevertheless, his commentary is concerned principally with the Iliad as we have it: (...) a poem which is at one level a masterly re-telling of saga but at another a sublime tragedy, commiserating the sorrows inseparable from human existence and holding up for our admiration the heroes who nobly confront pain and death. I believe that much, and probably most, of the Iliad can and should be viewed in this light. The last book of all, as Macleod himself has shown, offers especially rich rewards to an interpreter who keeps in the front of his mind the overriding aims of the great poet. Yet Macleod's method, like any other single method, will never yield a fully satisfactory answer on all occasions. However the ‘definitive’ or ‘monumental’ composition of the Iliad was brought about, it formed only one stage in the development of the Greek epic. Our Iliad cannot have been the first or the only treatment, on a large scale, of the matter of Troy. (shrink)

Many critics have condemned, some have defended, Euripides for composing a play ‘altogether wanting in the satisfaction which nothing but a unity of ideas could produce.’ It helps us little to marvel, with Paley, at the ‘obtuseness of critics who forsooth prefer “unity of ideas” to profoundly moving incidents, etc.,’ though it may be admitted that Paley has detected part of the truth when he calls attention to the importance of the fact that Athens is, throughout the play, the only (...) possible asylum for the hero. Verrall's analysis has the merit that it attempts to account for the play as a whole, but it is hard to believe that the Athenian audience was composed of subtle critics, endowed with Verrall's ingenuity and acumen. Still, though it is easy to disagree with Verrall, it is less easy to give the reasons for one's disagreement. In detail one can say: ‘The straightforward and obvious sense of the words is adequate; the subtle suggestion is not likely to have occurred to an audience which had never heard of Schlegel or of Swinburne.’ That leaves us with the fact that the impression made on most of us by the whole work is not one of formal perfection. To most readers there seem to be three episodes, each excellent, but not intimately connected with the other two: in the first we are concerned for the fate of the tyrant Lycus, and rejoice at his just destruction; in the second we are moved by the sudden reversal in the fortunes of the beneficent Heracles; and in the third we are impressed by the magnanimity, and, perhaps, delighted with the Athenian connections, of the excellent Theseus. There is a good deal of talk which we ascribe to the tendency of Euripides to make his characters the mouthpieces for current debate. There are choral odes which we think charming, but, on the whole and as a rule, slightly irrelevant to the main ‘incidents.’ My purpose in this paper is to suggest, first, that the audience was occupied with certain quite familiar ideas upon which Euripides has built his play, and was, therefore, not at leisure to catch at subtleties of detail, suggestions, ambiguities, ironies, points of logic and of lack of logic, such as Verrall emphasizes; and, secondly, that if we also remember these ideas, we shall find both unity in the construction and relevance in the choral odes. (shrink)

It has been widely argued that words are analogous to species such that words, like species, are natural kinds. In this paper, I consider the metaphysics of word-kinds. After arguing against an essentialist approach, I argue that word-kinds are homeostatic property clusters, in line with the dominant approach to other biological and psychological kinds.

ABSTRACT The idea that two words can be instances of the same word is a central intuition in our conception of language. This fact underlies many of the claims that we make about how we communicate, and how we understand each other. Given this, irrespective of what we think words are, it is common to think that any putative ontology of words, must be able to explain this feature of language. That is, we need to provide criteria of identity for (...) word-types which allow us to individuate words such that it can be the case that two particular word-instances are instances of the same word-type. One solution, recently further developed by Irmak, holds that words are individuated by their history. In this paper, I argue that this view either fails to account for our intuitions about word identity, or is too vague to be a plausible answer to the problem of word individuation. (shrink)

I distinguish two claims about human ‘dominion’ over nature: (1) Humans have the right to supervise, manage, and direct the rest of nature; (2) Humans have a special value, superior to the rest of nature. I discuss some ways of rejecting either or both claims, and point to some surprising consequences of such rejections. Then I compare the ways in which Aristotelianism and sentientism might try to keep hold of both claims. This produces two surprising and unwelcome results for sentientism, (...) and one surprising and welcome result for Aristotelianism (namely, an alliance with Kantianism). And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. (Genesis 1.28). (shrink)