This book provides a perceptive analysis of the "narrative turn" that led Paul Ricoeur to his magisterial work Time and Narrative. Ricoeur has for many years explored the intersections of diverse strands of European philosophy, but it is his recent work that has attracted the most discussion and engendered the most debate in Europe and America. The Narrative Path explores the roots and meaning of that work. Two of the book's five essays reach back to Ricoeur's earlier work to clarify (...) his themes: Richard Kearney concentrates on the role of imagination in hermeneuties, and Maria Villela Petit explores the development of Ricoeur's concept of history from History and Truth to Time and Narrative. Two essays analyze the significance of Ricoeur's reflections on metaphoric and narrative language: Serge Mellinger looks at the relationship between time and poetry from the point of view of Ricoeur's discussions of the connection between time and narrative, and T. Peter Kemp extends Ricoeur's analysis to argue that narration is indispensable to ethics. The book concludes with a reflection by Ricoeur himself on the linguistic, practical, and ethical dimensions of human beings, and with a bibliography of Ricoeur's work in English. T. Peter Kemp teaches in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Copenhagen. The Narrative Pathis based on a special issue of the journal Philosophy and Social Criticism, edited by David Rasmussen, who is Professor of Philosophy at Boston College. (shrink)

The COVID-19 pandemic has presented a global threat to physical and mental health worldwide. Research has highlighted adverse impacts of COVID-19 on wellbeing but has yet to offer insights as to how wellbeing may be protected. Inspired by developments in wellbeing science and guided by our own theoretical framework, we examined the role of various potentially protective factors in a sample of 138 participants from the United Kingdom. Protective factors included physical activity, tragic optimism, gratitude, social support, and nature connectedness. (...) Initial analysis involved the application of one-sample t-tests, which confirmed that wellbeing in the current sample was significantly lower compared to previous samples. Protective factors were observed to account for up to 50% of variance in wellbeing in a hierarchical linear regression that controlled for a range of sociostructural factors including age, gender, and subjective social status, which impact on wellbeing but lie beyond individual control. Gratitude and tragic optimism emerged as significant contributors to the model. Our results identify key psychological attributes that may be harnessed through various positive psychology strategies to mitigate the adverse impacts of hardship and suffering, consistent with an existential positive psychology of suffering. (shrink)

It would be an exaggeration to say that the Victorian age in England was philosophically barren; but it would not be a great exaggeration. By this somewhat uncomplimentary opening, I do not mean to imply that Victorian England contained no competent philosophers at all. Indeed, if one considers thinkers of the second and lower ranks only, their literary productivity was probably greater than those of any previous period in English, or even British, history, even if in sheer numbers they can (...) hardly compete with the prolific hordes of our own century. It is at the very highest level of philosophical greatness and originality that one finds the Victorian age wanting. The great period of British philosophy, which runs roughly from the 1630s to the 1770s, contains at least three thinkers who cannot be matched in the succeeding 140 years, Hobbes, Locke and Hume. (shrink)

There has always been a significant element of trust when we look at an image of something we have not seen, above all when it looks naturalistic and convincing. Illustrators often employ naturalistic tricks in the service of the “rhetoric of reality.” The case study is the Australian Duck-Billed Platypus, which stretched credibility when it was first discovered, resembling an artificially confected monster. The first scientific account, by George Shaw in T he Naturalist’s Miscellany in 1799, is a masterpiece of (...) wonder and scepticism in which he finally convinces himself and us of the reality of the strange beast. However, how many of us have seen a real one? (shrink)

Richard Heck has contested my argument that the equation of the meaning of a sentence with its truth-condition implies deflationism, on the ground that the argument does not go through if truth-conditions are understood, in Davidson's style, to be stated by T-sentences. My reply is that Davidsonian theories of meaning do not equate the meaning of a sentence with its truth-condition, and thus that Heck's point does not actually obstruct my argument.

[t. 1] Pathétique de l'engagement.--[t. 2, v. 1] Poétique de l'engagement.

In previous research, acoustic characteristics of the male voice have been shown to signal various aspects of mate quality and threat potential. But the human voice is also a medium of linguistic communication. The present study explores whether physical and vocal indicators of male mate quality and threat potential are linked to effective communicative behaviors such as vowel differentiation and use of more salient phonetic variants of consonants. We show that physical and vocal indicators of male threat potential, height and (...) formant position, are negatively linked to vowel space size, and that height and levels of circulating testosterone are negatively linked to the use of the aspirated variant of the alveolar stop consonant /t/. Thus, taller, more masculine men display less clarity in their speech and prefer phonetic variants that may be associated with masculine attributes such as toughness. These findings suggest that vocal signals of men’s mate quality and/or dominance are not confined to the realm of voice acoustics but extend to other aspects of communicative behavior, even if this means a trade-off with speech patterns that are considered communicatively advantageous, such as clarity and indexical cues to higher social class. (shrink)

Philip Kitcher has recently worried that the New Atheists, by mounting an attack against religion tout court, risk alienating a large swath of ‘religious’ people whose way of life is, to Kitcher's mind, innocuous. Encouraging a more moderate response, Kitcher thinks certain non-threatening modes of religious existence should be protected. In this article, I argue that while Kitcher's attempt to provide balance to the secularism debate is a great service, he ultimately fails to distinguish innocuous modes of religious belief from (...) more threatening modes, a failing that allows the debate to return to its previous extremes. In drawing attention to the shortcomings of Kitcher's approach, I make the humanist's argumentative burden explicit: the defender of a ‘moderate’ secular humanism must show that people who arrange their lives around belief in a transcendent being are more likely to do ethical harm than those that don't. (shrink)

God for man, freedom to be himself, gracious and liberating -- Theological knowledge, faith's free response -- God, graciously veiled in nature, presents self in human terms -- Addressed by the Bible -- The issue of general revelation, biblical faith and nature -- Natural theology, a natural folly -- The ill-fated mirror, speculations always push towards monopoly -- If God is for real, why does God hide? -- How can anyone truly know God? -- Responding to God's eternity and glory (...) (précis) -- If liberation is God's own glory, how free we are to be! -- God-talk from the inside out -- How broadly may we hope? -- Humanity as a whole; can it really be accepted? -- Human life means community, the Jewish witness -- The promies, Old Testament and New -- Jesus, God for man: wide-open atonement vs. divine parsimony? -- Ethics, a task within our doctrine of God -- Approaches to law and gospel -- Agents of liberation -- The word as sole criterion: Jesus Christ, scripture's focus and the only sacrament -- Creation's ultimate purpose envisioned: freedom for covenant -- Creation's purpose fulfilled: freedom in covenant -- Creation old and new: God's coherent gift -- Mankindin the cosmos and creation's science -- Jesus, man for God -- True humanity in and out of grace -- The majesty of God's self-representation (a Sozietät discussion) -- To relate only in grace, God keeps to the wings of our world (another Sozietät discussion) -- On God before man: permission in command (The preparatory précis for a colloquium). (shrink)

This book offers a comprehensive critique of the Kantian principle that 'objects conform to our cognition' from the perspective of a Copernican world-view which stands diametrically opposed to Kant's because founded on the principle that our cognition conforms to objects. Concerning both Kant's ontological denial in respect of space and time and his equivalence thesis in respect of 'experience' and 'objectivity', Ryall argues that Kant's transcendental idealism signally fails to account for the one thing that is essential for Copernicus and (...) the only thing that would validate a comparison between his and Kant's critical philosophy, namely the subject as 'revolving object'. It is only by presupposing - in a transcendentally realistic sense - that human beings exist as physical things in themselves, therefore, that the 'observer motion' of Copernican theory is vindicated and the distorted nature of our empirical observations explained. In broadly accessible prose and by directly challenging the arguments of many stalwart defenders of Kant including Norman Kemp Smith, Henry E. Allison and Michael Friedman, Ryall's book will be of interest to both scholars and students of Kant's philosophy alike. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:HUME, THE CAUSAL PRINCIPLE, AN'D KEMP SMITH When we say of a proposition that it is possible, we sometimes mean no more than that it is logically possible, that is, consistent with itself. A proposition can be possible in stronger senses than this, but not in any weaker one. For a sense of "p is possible" that did not entail "p is self-consistent, "would have to be a sense (...) of "p is possible" which was consistent with "p is self-inconsistent" And it is obvious that there can be no such sense as that. One of the stronger senses in which a proposition can be possible is this: consistent (with itself and in addition) with every observation-statement. (I mean by an observationstatement, a proposition which, if it were true, could in principle be discovered by experience to be true.) If a proposition? is contingent, (that is, neither necessarily true??t necessarily false), then its negation (its contradictory) not-p is contingent too; and since contingent, not necessarily false; and since not necessarily false, consistent with itself. So, given any contingent propositions, its falsity is among those propositions which are possible in the first and weak sense mentioned above. If a proposition? is not only contingent but unverifiable,(that is, not deducible from any observation- statement), then not-p is consistent both with itself and with every observation -statement. So, given any unverifiable contingent proposition, its falsity is among those propositions which are possible in the second and stronger sense mentioned above. Some stock examples. "Whatever is a raven is black" is contingent, and its falsity therefore possible in the first sense; so too is its contradictory "There are such things as non-black ravens" contingent, and its falsity possible in the first sense. But the latter proposition is not unverifiable, since there are observation-statements from which it is deducible. ("There are such things as green ravens", for example; or "A green raven was in captivity at Taronga Park Zoo in January 31st 1975".) The former proposition, on the other hand, is not only contingent but unverifiable; since there are no observation -statements from which it is deducible. Hence, "whatever is a raven is black" is a proposition the falsity of which is possible both in the first and in the second sense noticed above. A third and still stronger sense in which a proposition can be possible is the following:? is possible if and only if (p is consistent with itself,every observation-statement is consistent with p, and in addition)? is neither more nor less probable in relation to the conjunction of e and n, where e is any observation-statement and? any necessary truth, than it is in relation to? alone. The last condition may be expressed, symbolically, as "P(p/n.e) » P(p/n) for all necessarily true? and all observation-statements e"; or in Carnap' s phrase as, "every observation- statement is initially irrelevant to p." Some examples will quickly make the idea of initial irrelevance, and its opposite, more familiar; and hence will make the third sense of "p is possible" more familiar. Let? be any necessary truth and e any observation-statement. Now let? be, for- example,some necessarily false proposition; then, since P(p/n) « o = P(p/n.e), e is initially irrelevant to p. Or let? be necessarily true; then, since P(p/n) ¦ 1 = P(p/n.e), e is again initially irrelevant to p. Again, let? be "Whatever is a raven is black": then some observation- statements e are initially relevant to p. For if e is "This raven is black," for example, P(p/n.e)>P(p/n) ; or at any rate, that is what we think if we are not inductive sceptic?. Again, if? is "The Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son", it is at least very plausible to say that every observational e is initially irrelevant to p; since there appears to be no observational e such that P(p/n.e)>P(p/n), or P(p/n.e). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Kant and the Possibility of Progress: From Modern Hopes to Postmodern Anxieties ed. by Paul T. Wilford and Samuel A. StonerBenedikt BrunnerPaul T. Wilford and Samuel A. Stoner, editors. Kant and the Possibility of Progress: From Modern Hopes to Postmodern Anxieties. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2021. Pp. 328. Hardback, $65.00.Our present does not invite, let alone suggest, particularly optimistic expectations for the future. This volume, edited by (...) Paul Wilford and Samuel Stoner, not only analyzes the historical foundations of Kant's idea of progress but also explores contemporary reflections on such questions as the following: Do we still believe in the possibility of progress? And if not, why has this ability been lost? What about liberal democracy, which is contested from many sides?In addition to a lucid introduction, which clarifies the concepts of modernity and postmodernity, the volume assembles thirteen chapters. While the first seven chapters deal with the idea of progress in Kant, the remaining six contributions shed light on the history of that idea after Kant. Within the framework of this review, only selected articles can be discussed. In chapter 1, Oliver Sensen examines the idea of moral progress in the individual. In chapter 2, Kate Moran asks the fundamental question: should we believe in moral progress? According to Kant, the human being possesses "a duty to avoid despondency" (46). Following Kant, she encourages us not to go down the road of misanthropy as a consequence of one's own or others' moral failure, but "to be generous in our assessments of others" (46). In chapter 3, Jens Timmermann takes up this aspect again and illustrates clearly how complex Kant's concept of moral progress is. Moreover, he highlights that moral progress has a double meaning for Kant: "first in a fundamental change of priorities—privileging morality over self-interest—and then in an ever-closer approximation to a perfectionist ideal of virtue" (61). Like some of the other contributors to this volume, however, Timmermann remains rather vague regarding possible avenues for further research. Two other contributions deal specifically with Kant's relationship to religion. In chapter 5, Naomi Fisher asks how God, teleology, and progress are connected in the third Critique. She argues that in the 1790s, Kant made concrete new efforts to integrate different strands of his philosophy "and to develop a more unified view of the human being as free and natural" (93). Chapter 6 is a joint contribution by the two editors of this volume entitled "Realizing the Ethical Community." Their focus is on Kant's religious writings and their role in the context of a "Reformation of Culture." They notice—an observation as important as it is exciting—that Kant tempered his ambitious goal regarding the moral betterment of human beings with his ideas about radical evil. At the same time, Kant insisted that people must become aware of their duty to improve themselves.In the second section, Kant is brought into conversation with his contemporaries and some of his successors. In chapter 8, Karl Ameriks provides an overview of the relationship between history, progress, and autonomy in Kant, Herder, and beyond. In chapter 9, Richard L. Velkley analyzes the significance of language, embodiment, and the supersensual in Fichte. In chapter 10, Mark Alznauer examines the concept of philosophical history in Hegel.The volume concludes with three different but equally stimulating contributions. In chapter 11, Ryan S. Kemp argues that Kierkegaard "relocated" the concept of the Highest Good: "Unlike Kant, who regards happiness as realizable (if at all) only in an afterlife, Kierkegaard seems to think that the person who truly embraces the self-denial of Christian love, can, even now, receive the world in joy" (200). In this approach, Kierkegaard was clearly different from his predecessors in the German idealistic tradition. In chapter 12, entitled "Kant and Benjamin on Hope, History, and the Task of Interpretation," C. Allen [End Page 159] Speight shows that Walter Benjamin stands in Kant's tradition while also diverging from him in some important respects. From Kant's universalizing assumptions, especially in relation to progress, Benjamin moved "toward a distinctive, messianically influenced sense of time where interruption and immanent... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:What Does the Scientist of Man Observe? Janet Broughton In the introduction to the Treatise, Hume cautions the reader that the scientist of man cannot "go beyond experience" and "discover the ultimate original qualities of human nature."1 "[T]he only solid foundation we can give to this science," tie says, "must be laid on experience and observation" (Txvi). This methodological principle is a familiar Newtonian one; indeed Hume makes a (...) point of saying it applies to "all the sciences" (T xviii), not just to the science of man. Although the principle is familiar, just what it enjoins is not clear. We are to renounce investigations that go "beyond experience," and we are not to seek "ultimate" qualities. But exactly which investigations and qualities are these? The question is a difficult one for Newton as well as for Hume. But Hume's invocation of the familiar methodological principle raises two additional questions, ones that need not especially trouble Newton. When the scientist of man goes about his task ofgathering "experience and observation," what sort ofthing is he to observe? And how is he to make his observations? My mainaimin this paperisto answerthose two questionsas they arise for the early stages ofHume's investigation ofhuman nature in the Treatise. I hope also to persuade the reader that these questions are more difficult, and more important, than they may at first seem, andthattheyare connected with evenbroader questions aboutthe sort ofproject Hume undertook in the Treatise. "Perceptions" Without explanation, Hume begins the Treatise proper by distinguishing between two kinds of"perceptions ofthe human mind" and drawsthe distinction accordingtohow the perceptions"maketheir way into our thought or consciousness"(T 1). Afew pageslater, he asks which of these "impressions and ideas are causes and which effects" and then announces that the "full examination ofthis question is the subject of the present treatise" (T 4). The scientist ofman, then, is to observe perceptions in our consciousness. Most commentators assume therefore that Hume takes himselfto be studying what Locke called ideas: states of awareness whose 'immediate objects' are dependent for their existence on the existence Volume XVIII Number 2 155 JANETBROUGHTON ofthe states ofawareness themselves, and can be theimmediate objects of awareness for one mind only. Many commentators make the additional assumptionthatforHume, thepropersphere ofhis scientific investigations is really just his own Lockean ideas. That is, the only form of experience the scientist of man may consult is immediate experience; the only appropriateform ofobservationhe may undertake is introspection. Kemp Smith disagrees. He claims thatin the openingstages ofthe Treatise, Hume takes up a point of view that is "naively realistic."2 Kemp Smith prefers this readingbecause he thinks it explains Hume's general tendency, in the early parts ofbook 1, to slide between talking about objects and talking about ideas; before part 4's "Of scepticism withregard tothe senses," Kemp Smith claims, Hume himselfoccupies the position ofthe "vulgar"(for example, T 192), rather than that ofthe "philosophers." Kemp Smith reminds us that in part 4, after a long account of the position of the vulgar, Hume says that its inherent instability leads philosophers to change their system, and distinguish, (as we shall do for the future) betwixt perceptions and objects. (T 211, emphasis added) Only at this point, Kemp Smith says, does Hume adopt the Lockean theory ofideas. I also oppose the standard view, but unlike Kemp Smith I do not see our central interpretative task here as that of deciding whether Hume began his investigation ofhuman nature as a "naive realist" or as a Lockean theorist. For one thing, when Kemp Smith calls Hume a naive realist, he means that Hume begins by assuming that the Lockean is right about this much: when we see, hear, remember, and so on, we are "immediately" or "directly" aware of something—albeit objects, not ideas. But I do not think that Hume's account of the early phases of his investigation requires us to impute that assumption to him. I also see the choice Kemp Smith offers us as limiting in another way. For it focuses our attention just upon the metaphysical status of the objects ofsense-perception. We might agree with Kemp Smith that on that score Hume does notbegin... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Moral Sentiments and the Structure of the Treatise LOUIS E. LOEB ACCORDING TO NORMAN KEMP SMITH and Thomas Hearn, Hume classified moral sentiments as direct passions.' According to Pb.II A,rdal, Hume classified the basic moral sentiments of approval and disapproval of persons as indirect passions. if either of these interpretations is correct, there is an intimate connection between Books II and 111 of Hume's Treatise. This is because (...) the direct and indirect passions (together with the will) are the subject of Book 11 and moral sentiments are discussed in Book 111. So if moral sentiments are special cases of either direct or indirect passions, the treatment of passions in Book Ii is central to the understanding of Book 111. 1 contend, on the contrary, that Hume's moral sentiments are neither direct nor indirect passions. Consequently, the connection between Books 11 and 111 of the Treatise is much less intimate than A,rdal and Hearn have recently suggested.' i. Hume's Classification of the Impressions of Reflection In the four paragraphs of II, i, I Hume provides an exhaustive "Division of the Subject"--the "subject" being "all the perceptions of the mind. ''4 Nowhere else in the Treatise is a complete "division" to be found. As A,rdal points out, such introductory chapters "are likely to be written after the bulk of the book has been completed, or at least to be carefully revised in the light of the main arguments in the book. ''~ For these reasons, there is a strong presumption that the "division" in!I, i, 1should be taken as canonical. Hume's "division" is straightforward. In the first paragraph, perceptions are divided into ideas and impressions; in the first and second paragraphs, impressions are divided into those of sensation and those of reflection; in the third paragraph, impressions of reflection are divided into the calm and the violent; in the fourth (as I am indebted to Wdham Frankena, Ronald Glossop, and Peter Jones for their most helpful comments. ' Norman Kemp Smith, The Philosophy of David Hume (New York: St. Martm'~ Press, 1966), pp. 167-168; and Thomas K. Hearn, Jr., "Ardal on the Moral Sentiments in Hume's rreattse," Phtlosophy 48 (1973):290. z Passton and Value m Hume's "Treatise" (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1966), pp. I 1, 109-133. For a discussion heavily influenced by Ardal, see Stewart R. Sutherland, "Hume on Morality and the Emotions," Phllosophwal Quarterly 26 (1976) : 14-19 especially. ' See Ardal, pp. I-5, 109-133; and Hearn, pp. 288, 292. 9 A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), p. 275; hereafter cited as T followed by page number. 9 Ardal, p. 94. 13951 396 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY indicated by the last sentence of the third), the violent impressions of reflection are divided into the direct and the indirect. The structure is of a genus-species sort, and none of the distinctions cut across each other: J calm i sense of beauty and deformity (T, 276), moral sentiments impressions of reflection = emotions (secondary impressions) violent = passions direct indirect desire, aversion, grief, joy, pride, humility, love, hope, fear (T, 277, 439) hatred (T, 276-277) This classification is based upon the only natural reading of paragraph three and the first sentence of paragraph four of II, i, I. I quote this material, adding my own emphasis and deleting Hume's: The reflective impressions may be divided into two kinds, viz. the calm and the violent. Of the first kind is the sense of beauty and deformity in action, composition, and external objects. Of the second are the passions of love and hatred, grief and joy, pride and humility. This division is far from being exact. The raptures of poetry and music frequently rise to the greatest height; while those other impressions, properly called passions, may decay into so soft an emotion, as to become, in a manner, imperceptible. But as in general the passions are more violent than the emotions arising from beauty and deformity, these impressions have been commonly distinguish'd from each other. The subject of the human mind being so copious and various, I shall here take... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:92 A NOTE ON SMITH'S TERM "NATURALISM" The reader of contemporary Hume literature may feel exasperated when reading recent authors. A conspicuous example is A.J. Ayer (Hume, 1982; see index, Art, Natural beliefs), who declares they endorse Kemp Smith's view of Hume's "naturalism" without sufficiently clarifying what they — or Smith — might exactly mean by this term. Charles W. Hendel, in the 1963 edition of his 1924 Studies (...) in the Philosophy of David Hume, adds eight pages of a new preface and thirty-one pages of a review of Hume scholarship between 1925 and 1962, and he speaks at great length there of his life-long friendship and cooperation with Norman Kemp Smith and appreciation of his work. He says (p. xlviii), "There is a disposition today to assimilate Hume's thought to naturalism as understood in the contemporary sense." He does not say what this "contemporary sense" is, and the statement just quoted seems to have served as the seal of approval and the legitimation of this questionable practice. Hendel's new, 1963, material mentions Smith's discussion of Hume's "naturalism" — but refers only to Smith's early work, "The Naturalism of Hume," Mind, 14, 1905, 149-173 and 335-347, not to Smith's famous The Philosophy of David Hume of 1941, even though he deems that work "of great consequence for Hume scholarship" (p. xxxviii) and a "masterwork" (p. xxxix). The early work (1905) of Smith is already mentioned by Hendel in the body of the 1924 work (p. 361), although there, clearly, the word "naturalism," whatever its meaning is, and however contemporary then, is not necessarily the "contemporary sense" of 1962. The work which clearly (if implicitly) distinguishes between the traditional sense and Smith's 1905 sense of "naturalism" is John Laird's Hume's 93 Philosophy of Human Nature, 1932, 1967. We find there a discussion of Hume's naturalism (beginning of Chapter II), as well as of Hume's "Naturalism" (Chapter VI, fifth and fourth paragraphs from the end), with reference to Smith's 1905 work. Now, the traditional sense of "naturalism" is straightforward and seems to have been instituted by Pierre Bayle to designate the view of the world as devoid of all supernatural intervention, the view of the world as "disenchanted," to use the equivalent term accredited to Max Weber. Clearly, all Epicureans and neoEpicureans, Hume included, were naturalists in this sense. This is not the sense in which Smith uses it in his 1905 essay, "The Naturalism of Hume." The first part of this essay opposes T. H. Green's traditional reading of Hume as a philosopher who streamlined the ideas of Locke and Berkeley and proposes to replace it with the view of Hume's view as "naturalism." "Hume's... naturalistic view of reason," we are told (p. 158), "is a new theory of belief": Humean belief, on Smith's new reading, "is not caused by knowledge but precedes it, and as it is not caused by knowledge it is not destroyed by doubt" (p. 165). Smith declared his reading quite revolutionary, yet it may be endorsed without rejecting Green's reading. Smith does not even attempt to re-interpret in detail the passages which prima facie conform to Green's reading. The second part of his essay is the application of his revolutionary reading to psychology and to ethics. Smith devotes the preface of his The Philosophy of David Hume (1941) to a revision of his 1905 study. It seems he did not alter his attitude towards the first part but only to the second: he thought the starting point of Hume's study was his concern not for "naturalism" but for "moral philosophy, or the science of human nature" (opening words of Hume's Inquiry, cf. Hendel, op. cit., p. xlvi). This statement has to do 94 with emphasis, not with the meanings of terms or with ascriptions of views (and it is erroneous, or at least limited; but this is another matter). This is not to deny that Hume was a naturalist in Bayle's sense, as everyone today agrees. Most philosophers today share this naturalism with Hume. "His attitude and way of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Concepts, Judgments, and Unity in Kant's Metaphysical Deduction of the Relational Categories CHARLES NUSSBAUM 1. INTRODUCTION TO ANY ATTENTIVEREADERof the section of the Critique of Pure Reason' known as the "Metaphysical Deduction of the Categories" (A67/B92-A83/B to9), one paragraph in that section stands out particularly by virtue of its special importance for Kant's developing argument: The same function Which gives unity to the various representations in ajudgment also gives (...) unity to the mere synthesis of various representations in an intuition; and this unity, in its most general expression, we entitle the pure concept of the understanding. The same understanding, through the same operations by which in concepts, by means of analytical unity, it produced the logical form of a judgment, also introduces a transcendental content into its representations, by means of the synthetic unity of the manifold of intuition in general.... (CPR A79/B loS) The importance of this paragraph is, however, more than equaled by its difficulties, which center on the question of how the function which operates by means of analytical unity can be the same as one that operates by means of the synthetic unity of the manifold of intuition in general. Put shortly, the problem is this. If the functions are really the same, then how do we distinguish at all between analytic and synthetic operations? But if they are different, then how can these forms of judgment serve as a clue for the discovery of the categories? ' Immanuel Kant, Critiqueof Pure Reason, trans. Norman KempSmith (London: Macmillan and Co., Ltd., 1963).Hereafter CPR. [89] 9~ JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 28:1 JANUARY 1990 The results of this dilemma which can be observed in the literature are not surprising: commentators tend to grasp one horn or the other. They either emphasize the difference between analysis and synthesis, and reject or dilute the claims as to sameness of function; or they take seriously Kant's argument concerning sameness of functions, and try to minimize the difference between analysis and synthesis. The major twentieth-century representant of the former approach is Kemp Smith," and of the latter, Paton. 3 This latter approach has found a formidable contemporary champion in the person of Henry Allison. By Allison's own admission,4 however, his position on this controversial topic was suggested (in part) by arguments first put forward over fifty years ago by Klaus Reich in a most remarkable book entitled Die Volls~ndigkeit der Kantischen Urteilstafel, 5 a book, by the way, also greatly admired by Paton. 6 In the first section of this paper I will try to show that Reich's arguments are rather more subtle than Allison apparently takes them to be, and that Reich is one commentator who attempts to go between the horns of the dilemma described above, and who essays an interpretation of our crucial paragraph that unifies its seemingly divergent tendencies. In the second section of the paper I will introduce some interpretive elements of my own. 2. Let us begin by reacquainting ourselves with Kant's notion of analytical unity, one aspect of this debate which is not particularly controversial and is largely agreed upon by all parties. For Kant, analytical unity is the sort of unity achieved by all general concepts (conceptus communes) insofar as they abstract from all differences that subsist between the objects under them, or the lower concepts subordinated to them. 7 A general concept unifies these objects or concepts by means of a common mark or set of marks. Thus Kant's example at CPR A69/B94 of the unification of bodies under the concepts 'body' and 'divisible' is a perfectly representative instance of unification via analytical unity, as the function upon which such concepts "rest." Let us note that the " Norman KempSmith,A CommentarytoKant's "Cr/t~rueofPureReason"(NewYork:HumanitiesPress, 196~). 3 H.J. Paton, Kant's MetaphysicofExperience, 2 vols.(London:George Allenand Unwin,Ltd., 1936). 4 Henry Allison,Kant's TranscendentalIdealum (NewHaven:YaleUniversityPress, 1983), 144 n. 3o. Hereafter KTI. 5 KlausReich,Die Vollst~ndigkeitderKantischenUrteilstafel,3rd. ed. (Hamburg: Meiner, 1986). Hereafter VKU. 6 Paton, Kant's Metaphysic, 1:302. Kant, we should note, does not makethis important logicaldistinctionbetweensubordination... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume on Space (and Time) BEN MIJUSKOVIC HUME'S LABYRINTHINE ANALYSES of our ideas of space and time, textually occuring so early in the Treatise, 1clearly testify to his conviction of their central role in the physical sciences, then making such fantastic progress. Furthermore, quite early in the Treatise, Hume indicates his ambition to effect a revolution in the mental sciences comparable to the one Newton had achieved in the (...) physical disciplines, through the latter's conception of the force and effects of gravity. Accordingly, Hume regards the three principles or laws of the association of ideas as a "kind of ATTRACTION, which in the mental world will be found to have as extraordinary effects as in the natural" (T, 12-13). In pursuit of his investigations Hume commences, in the first part of the Treatise, by insisting on the principle that all our simple ideas are derived from simple impressions and that impressions always precede their correspondent ideas (T, 4, 7). This being firmly established, Hume nevertheless immediately proceeds in the very next part of the work to declare, paradoxically enough, that our ideas of space and time are complex ideas that lie beyond the nature of each and all of our simple impressions. Differently put, Hume is insisting that our ideas of space and time, unlike our idea of, say, a shade of blue, are not derived unproblematically from a precedent, simple mental impression (or physiological sensation, ~ la Locke). Thus, according to Hume, our idea of space is not sensationally given; it is not traceable to an antecedent extended impression as our idea of blue is derived from a precedent impression of blue. Hume's insistence that our conception of space is nonsensational has perplexed competent commentators on Hume. Consequently, even so able an interpreteter as Kemp Smith has been puzzled "why it was that [Hume] did not take the more easy line of allowing 'extensity' to the sensations of sight and touch. ''2 Or again, "How is it that [Hume] has not taken what would seem to be for him the easier and more obvious course, at least as regards space--the course usually taken by those who hold a sensationalist theory of knowledge--that extensity is a feature of certain of our sensations (those given through the senses of touch and sight), and in consequence sensibly imaged?" (PDH, 280). Of this simpler solution both Hobbes (Leviathan, Pt. I, 1; De Corpore, Pt. II, 7, 8) and Locke (Essay, II, 8) had availed themselves prior to Hume. Hence, Kemp Smith has found the section to be tough going indeed and has contented himself, to a great extent, in simply offering a number of historical appendices, suggesting lines of influence on Hume, through passages discovered in the works of Pierre Bayle, Nicholas de Malezieu, and Isaac Barrow. Now, without denying that Hume studied and was influenced in part by the ' A Treatise of Hurnan Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge (Oxford, 1888); hereafter cited as T. 2 The Philosophy of David Hume (New York, 1964), p. 277; hereafter cited as PDH. [3871 388 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY thinking of these authors (as well as by Francis Hutcheson), I wish to take up and develop in this paper a "historical" suggestion first offered by a student of Kemp Smith's, Charles Hendel; and I shall extend Hendel's point and try to argue a "theoretic" one, namely, that Hume's phenomenalism in the section devoted to space and time is derived from, and closely akin to, a form of Leibnizian idealism. In 1925, Hendel argued that Hume was directly influenced by the Leibniz-Clarke debate over the ontological and epistemological status of space and time; and he held that for Hume space and time, as appearances, were ultimately grounded in the associative power of the imagination.' Thirty years later, in a second edition, Hendel disavowed his earlier claim concerning the imagination and avoided discussion of his prior view that Hume was influenced by the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence (1963 edition, pp. 501, 503). In Hume's Philosophy of Human Nature, which first appeared in 1932 (reissued by Archon, 1967; see pp. 64-65, 67, 73, 77), John Laird also intimated that... (shrink)

T. A. Cavanaugh defends double-effect reasoning (DER), also known as the principle of double effect. DER plays a role in anti-consequentialist ethics (such as deontology), in hard cases in which one cannot realize a good without also causing a foreseen, but not intended, bad effect (for example, killing non-combatants when bombing a military target). This study is the first book-length account of the history and issues surrounding this controversial approach to hard cases. It will be indispensable in theoretical ethics, applied (...) ethics (especially medical and military), and moral theology. It will also interest legal and public policy scholars. (shrink)

Illustrated lining-papers."Thomas Mann has selected the essence of Schopenhauer's thought from The world as will and idea.""Translation of the introductory essay by Mrs. H. T. Lowe-Porter. The selections are from the translation by R. B. Haldane and J. Kemp.""First edition." "The works of Arthur Schopenhauer": p. [32].

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:preface This special issue of Feminist Studies presents an eclectic view of women ’s friendships from across Western history and from several different cultures. Several of the articles question whether identity or sameness is a prerequisite for friendship and ask what friendships across difference look like, including charting the difficulties of making and sustaining such friendships. The articles in this issue contrast the variety and functions of women’s friendships (...) with the narcissistic masculinist ideals of classical Western thought about friendship in which friends serve as reflections of a person—typically a male and upper-class person. The authors in this issue present women’s friendships that are more pragmatic and more vulnerable and that contend more fully with difference. Some authors reflect on the high expectations placed on friendship within Second Wave feminism in the United States, noting how competition and feelings of betrayal can suffuse friendships; others trace more autonomous, productive, and forgiving contemporary visions of friendship. The issue opens with Susan Van Dyne’s archival study of student friendships in a pioneering US women’s college, revealing how love, flirtation, and desire between women was expressed in Smith College’s class of 1883. In another historical study, sociologist Harriet Bjerrum Nielsen contrasts the narratives of Norwegian girls and young women from the late nineteenth century with those of present-day women and girls, noting differences between rural and urban contexts. Ivy Schweitzer 272Preface surveys classical Western masculinist ideals of friendship from Aristotle to Montaigne and traces the transformation of this tradition into the present quest for equality without hierarchy. Alexandra Verini addresses models of female friendship in the European Middle Ages, arguing that Christine de Pizan and Margery Kempe illustrate a “viable female alternative ” to classical models. The vulnerability of women’s close relationships comes to the fore in Nancy K. Miller’s moving elegies for deceased feminist friends, while Judith Taylor explores the more open and autonomous friendships adumbrated in contemporary fictions by Zadie Smith and Jillian and Mariko Tamaki, themes also addressed in Judith Kegan Gardiner’s review essay of advice books on friendships between women and other studies of women’s friendships. Richa Nagar’s interview articulates an ideal of feminist friendships that “enable continuous evolution of our beings and mindsets... without feeling threatened by one another.” If our articles focus on the close bonds between women, our News and Views pieces in this issue point to collective ties formed in response to political and social threats: Dalia Abd El-Hameed and Nadine Naber describe responses by Egyptian feminists to government crackdowns, and our forum “Orlando: Observances” offers a selection of first-person accounts from vigils organized to mark the massacre at the Pulse nightclub this summer. This issue also presents internal negotiations of identity, identification, and body image in Stephanie Han’s short story and in the vivid and bold transgressions of Wangechi Mutu’s collages as described by Sarah Jane Cervenak. In “‘Abracadabra’: Intimate Inventions by Early College Women,” Susan Van Dyne takes us on a fascinating journey into the “the early formation of a homosocial student culture and the bonds between women” at Smith College in the late nineteenth century. Mining an archive of diaries, letters, photos, and other materials from a group of friends from the class of 1883, she focuses on two kinds of written evidence: one, the inchoate expressions of homoerotic desire in one student’s journal at a moment when “lesbian” did not yet exist as an identity, and the other, a love poem to two students, written as a parody by one of their women professors, but which reverberated beyond the college and ignited male opprobrium. In her discussions of these developments, rather than ascribing identity, Van Dyne navigates the “messiness” of the archive, keeping her eye trained on the “only partially intelligible strategies of self-representation that can’t be translated or reduced to the modern Preface 273 language of sexual self-recognition.” What is most surprising in her account is not that young women would feel desire for one another, nor that male peers or authorities might find this threatening, but that the fabric of the students’ homosocial community had such resilience, nurturing... (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:THE FAILURE OF HUME'S TREATISE The Treatise is, of course, a failure; Hume tells us so himself. Hume's reservations about the Treatise both in later writings and even within the work itself are well known. What is less clear is exactly why Hume found the Treatise so unsatisfactory. This is a complicated question, for to explain why the Treatise does not live up to Hume's expectations presupposes an understanding (...) of the more fundamental problem of what Hume's expectations were in the first place. In what follows I present a theory about what it was that Hume hoped to accomplish in the Treatise and why this project was ultimately unsuccessful. In the first two sections of this paper I discuss three philosophical positions with which Hume was concerned, and I present three faculties of the understanding which he isolates in the Treatise. In the third section I argue that Hume's goal is to match these three philosophical positions with the three faculties, and by doing so to provide both a critique of unsatisfactory positions and a foundation for his own "science of man." I conclude by showing that this matching project is ultimately unsuccessful, thus dooming the Treatise to at least partial failure. My analysis is based primarily on Treatise I; without argument here I subscribe to Kemp Smith's thesis that Treatise I represents the most advanced stage of thinking in the 2 Treatise. This explains to me how Hume can continue to write Books II and III after the partial failure of the project which he registers in the conclusion of Treatise I. I read the conclusion to Book I as the conclusion of the whole project. Three Philosophical Positions The three philosophical positions which I wish to discuss are described by Hume at one point as that of the vulgar, that of a false philosophy, and that of the true (T222). 58. Let us discuss them in that order: 1.Vulgar Superstition. Hume frequently discusses and criticizes a set of beliefs and ways of thinking which for convenience I call "vulgar superstition." The real enemy here is popular religion, which for Hume is the clearest expression of this mode of thought. In the Treatise Hume is more wary of criticizing popular religion than he sometimes was in later works, but the general target of his remarks is still clear. The kinds of thought Hume has in mind here are bigotry, superstition, credulity, prejudice, and indoctrination. This type of thinking presents a constant barrier to human enlightenment and progress, and for Hume the role of philosophy is to attack superstition and keep it in check. As Hume expressed it a few years later, One considerable advantage that arises from philosophy, consists in the sovereign antidote which it offers to superstition and false religion. All other remedies against that pestilent distemper are vague, or at least uncertain. 2.Dogmatism. Another target which Hume attacks in the Treatise is a dogmatic or rationalistic approach to philosophy, best exemplified by Cambridge Platonism and Cartesianism. This type of philosophy seeks to base ethics upon pure reason, to know things with certainty, and to penetrate the ultimate nature of man, God, and the universe. Hume hopes to show the fallacy of all this philosophy (T 413) by showing that reason can never motivate action, that only fools claim to know things with certainty (T 270), and that we must be content to understand the appearance of things rather than to know their secret causes (T 64). 3.The Science of Man. Hume's own position, the "science of man," is presented as a middle ground-empirical rather than a priori and scientific rather than superstitious. The goal of this true philosophy is to discover the original qualities of human nature (T 562), resulting in a Newtonian analysis of man himself. For Hume true philosophers are characterized by their moderate scepticism (T 224), so Hume's system is to be built on probable judgments rather than certain ones, and it will deal with appearances rather than essences. Here again Hume follows the "constructive scepticism" of Newton. Hume sees considerable danger in following either rationalism or superstition, but he has great... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume 29, Number 1, April 2003, pp. 89-98 Another "Curious Legend" about Hume's An Abstract of a Treatise of Human Nature MARK G. SPENCER I In 1938, J. M. Keynes and P. Sraffa edited and introduced for Cambridge University Press a reprinting of An Abstract of A Treatise of Human Nature.1 The Abstract they claimed in their subtitle was "A Pamphlet hitherto unknown by DAVID HUME." Arguing (...) against a number of nineteenth and early-twentieth -century scholars who attributed authorship of an abstract of the Treatise to Adam Smith, Keynes and Sraffa convincingly documented in their introductory essay many solid reasons for thinking that the pamphlet being reprinted was Hume's.2 Sixty years on, their account dispelling this "curious legend" of Smith's authorship has now become the received opinion. T.E. Jessop accepted Keynes and Sraffa's argument (having seen it in proof before the edition was published) in his bibliography of 1938, and Norman Kemp Smith gave their version an early supportive review.3 E.C. Mossner, in his well-known biography of Hume, accepted wholeheartedly Keynes and Sraffa's findings.4 When in 1978 the Selby-Bigge's edition of Hume's Treatise saw its second edition the text of the Abstract was appended and a note gave P.H. Nidditch's opinion that "Hume's authorship is overwhelmingly likely."5 More recently Mark G. Spencer is Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Department of History, University of Toronto. Sidney Smith Hall, 100 St. George St., Toronto, Ontario MSS 3GS, Canada. [email protected] 90 Mark G. Spencer in the pages of this journal, Jeff Broome, David Raynor, and David Fate Norton have all helped buttress the case for Hume's authorship, as did R. W. Connon and M. Pollard elsewhere.6 Despite an occasional dissenting voice,7 the Abstract is now widely, and rightly (or so it seems to this author), thought to have been Hume's. But with all of this scholarly attention focused on confirming Hume's authorship, another much more contentious aspect of Keynes and Sraffa's interpretation has gone largely unnoticed. Keynes and Sraffa's billing of the Abstract as "A Pamphlet hitherto unknown by DAVID HUME," suggested that before 1938 the Abstract had not been attributed publicly to Hume and that the contents of the pamphlet also had been completely unknown. "Students of Hume have known that an abstract of the Treatise was made and intended for publication," wrote a reviewer of Keynes and Sraffa, "[b]ut no copy of this abstract was known to exist: indeed it was usually supposed that the abstract had never been printed at all."8 Relying on Keynes and Sraffa it would be easy to suppose that the Abstract was never publicly ascribed to Hume and even that the contents of the pamphlet had been overlooked entirely until Keynes and Sraffa came along. One of the purposes of the present short essay is to dispel, once and for all, that misunderstanding about the Abstract. Norman Kemp Smith went part of the way toward that end in 1938 when he reviewed Keynes and Sraffa's edition. But in the process Kemp Smith introduced another "curious legend" that has slipped into scholarly acceptance with little comment and no debate. We will see that it is a mistake to argue, as Kemp Smith did, that Hume's authorship of a sixpenny pamphlet was known to readers of An universal biographical and historical dictionary, published in 1800. There is no discussion of Hume's Abstract in that book. However, the Abstract was discussed in print in at least three different publications between 1818 and 1827, long after its initial publication in 1740 and long before Keynes and Sraffa brought it to the attention of their audience in 1938. While pre-1938 Hume scholars had overlooked the Abstract, at least one of Hume's early nineteenth-century critics knew of the Abstract's existence, attributed the work to Hume, and even quoted extensively from Hume's "Preface." Most interesting of all, Hume's authorship of the Abstract was interpreted in ways that are telling of the historical reception of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:33 HOW TO BECOME A MODERATE SKEPTIC: HUME'S WAY OUT OF PYRRHONISM The nature and extent of Hume's skepticism have been assessed in various ways. He was viewed as a radical skeptic until the end of the XIXth century. Many contemporary interpretations, which can be traced back to Kemp Smith's book, have claimed since that a reassessment was indispensable if we are to take seriously either the very project (...) of a science of human nature or Hume's naturalist conception of belief. The idea of a science of human nature presupposes that at least some sort of positive knowledge is possible. The naturalist conception of belief claims that some of our beliefs, though lacking rational justification, are nevertheless unavoidable and gain this way a certainty all their own. Both the Treatise of Human Nature in Book I and the Enquiry Concerning the Human Understanding -1 conclude with a moderate or mitigated skepticism after making a strong case for radical pyrrhonism. In this paper I wish to carry out two connected tasks: first I want to consider whether Hume's skepticism in the Treatise is the same as that of the Enquiry or not; second, I want to determine which arguments he puts forward for his shift from pyrrhonism to modern skepticism. The most noticeable differences between the Treatise and the Enquiry occur immediately after the analysis of causation. In the Enquiry we find almost nothing concerning the reality of the external world and the nature of the self, but Hume emphasizes heavily the 34 anti-metaphysical and anti-theological outcomes of the science of human nature in his sections on Liberty and Necessity (VIII), on Miracles (X), on Providence and a possible future state (XI). He stresses the devastating agnostic consequences of his principles and his agnosticism culminates in the dreadful censorship of the final lines of the book. On the contrary, the fourth part of the Treatise, Book I, offers an intricate and sophisticated treatment of various subjects. The intricacy shows in the very title of this part: "Of the Sceptical and Other Systems of Philosophy." Hume actually intertwines the exposition of his skeptical system — an expression which sounds odd — with the critical examination of rival systems and an attempt at accounting for the nature of things. These intricate undertakings are the direct upshot of Hume's analysis of causation. He thinks he has established that our causal beliefs are the products of custom alone and that nevertheless they are our only reliable beliefs. Lacking any rational justification, they are simply natural — which means that we cannot hinder ourselves from making inferences and predictions. Accordingly, reason has been immersed in the wider concept of imagination and thus naturalized: it is "nothing but a wonderful and unintelligible instinct in our souls" (T 179). Basically, some beliefs are unavoidable. Now, a crucial problem is to know how far we can go into the analysis of such natural beliefs. In the Treatise, Hume sets out to investigate some of them whereas in the Enquiry he is more prudent and merely talks of instincts without considering their mechanism. In the Treatise, the tentative analysis of these natural beliefs has important metaphysical outcomes. Using the concepts and principles of his new-born science of human nature, Hume provides us with 35 a new ontology which states the nature of things from the standpoint of our beliefs concerning it. Thus, we get a Humean version of the nature of the external world and of the nature of the self. Unfortunately, this assessment of what there is on the basis of what we believe there is has unwanted skeptical effects. Hume's "as if" ontology tends to appear definitely fictitious, all the more so because the analysis of our natural beliefs is not successful and even quite defective. So, the skeptical outcome pushes through the positive project itself as the failure to account for our natural beliefs shakes the very belief in their special reliability. Such is, for example, the blatant result of the study of our belief in the external world (T 217). Again, in the Treatise, Hume is eager to emphasize the devastating anti-metaphysical implications of his thought. Under the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:70 HUME'S LETTER TO STEWART A Note on a Paper by D. C. Stove In a recent paper, D. C. Stove raises an historical problem. There exists a letter, written in 1754 by Hume to John Stewart, then Professor of Natural Philosophy at Edinburgh, in which the following words occur:. „. J never asserted so absurd a Proposition, as that any thing might arise without a Cause: I only (...) maintained, that our Certainty of the Falsehood of that Proposition proceeded neither from Intuition nor Demonstration; but from another Source. Some commentators, most notably Norman Kemp-Smith, take this as telling strongly in favour of a non-sceptical reading of Hume. Stove undertakes to show beyond reasonable doubt that the claim made in the letter is in blatant contradiction with central theses of Hume's published philosophy, so that it has to be regarded as useless as evidence for the interpretation of the latter. There is a mystery as to how Hume came to say something so clearly false about what he himself had written; Stove offers certain conjectures, none of which he finds wholly satisfactory. As the conclusion of the first, exegetical, part of his article, Stove advances the thesis that Hume held the falsity of the Causal Principle to be possible in at least three senses of "possible". These senses he specifies accurately, but doesn't wish to rest anything on the detail of his specification of the third; it is important only that it be stronger than either of the preceding two. This done, he takes a look at the letter to Stewart, and says, with reference to the first part of the 71 passage quoted above: That something might begin to exist without a cause, is evidently equivalent to the proposition that it is possib Ie for something to begin to exist without a cause. That, in turn, is evidently equivalent to the proposition that the falsity of the Causal Principle is possible. (Stove's o underlining). It follows that what Hume says in the letter is simply false. It could be true only if the "might" referred to some sense of possibility even weaker than the weakest of Stove's three senses. But since that is mere self-consistency, there is no such sense. Now the argument to the contradiction relies on reading "might" as "it is possible", in some sense of those words. Stove says, as we have seen, that they are "evidently equivalent", but the equivalence is certainly not evident, and it may well be asked whether it exists at all. After all, there are English constructions with "might" which don't have modal force: "Do you think something might have happened to them without our knowing about it?" The hearer is not, of course, being asked whether it- is possible that something should have happened without their knowledge; he is being asked for his opinion on whether something actually has so happened. "Most unlikely", would be a perfectly natural and acceptable response. Again : "ïou stay here, to take care of any problem that might arise before we get back". Obviously it is not intended that the hearer should start taking precautions against all possibilities, only that he should cope with whatever actually arises, if anything. 72 This is quite normal modern usage, and I know no reason to think that it wasn't also norT.il usage in the 18th Century. Admittedly, it isn't modern philocophers ' usage - we would be very careful, in writing or; logical matters, not to use the word "might" unless it was definitely the modal proposition that we had in mind, but earlier times haven't always been so professional about their vocabulary. Certainly, if Hume, in the letter to Stewart, was denying that he had ever asserted the possibility of the falsehood of the Causal Principle it would be, as Stove shows, extremely hard to see what he could have been thinking of. But if what he meant could have been as well expressed by "I never asserted... that anything arises without a cause" then most of Stove's problems are over, for there is no 3 conflict with any of the theses (1) - (3) which he... (shrink)

From the time of Reid through Coleridge to T. H. Green, Hume was interpreted as a sceptic and as a wholly negative philosopher. And from their perspective such an interpretation no doubt makes some sense, given the vested interest in religion and the absolute of the idealists: from that perspective it is an essential part of a positive position that it take one beyond the realm of ordinary objects known by sense experience to a realm of entities that transcend that (...) world of everyday life. That interpretation lingers on, like bad jokes, to retail in Philosophy 100 classes. On the other hand, in an age where the demand that one have access to a transcendent entity is less insistent, it has become possible to challenge the orthodox reading of Hume. The first to do this was Norman Kemp Smith, who argued that, while Hume was a sceptic, he in fact also had a positive view, not to be sure that of Reid & Co., but that of anaturalist, that is, one who holds that our beliefs, and our moral commitments, are none of them rational, none of them products of reason, but rather are products of our instinctive and passionate natures. This interpretation continues to have important defenders such as Popkin and Stroud. More recently, however, some scholars have gone further and argued that there are good senses in which Hume is not a sceptic, and that he constructs a case that our instinctual beliefs are not only natural but also rational. Major works defending this reading of Hume as a naturalized epistemologist are those of Livingston and Jones. The Kemp Smith interpretation has, however, found a major new defender in John Wright'sThe Sceptical Realism of David Hume. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume, Tillotson, and Dialogue XIIJeff JordanJeff JordanUniversity of DelawareFootnotes1. 'Natural religion' in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries denoted knowledge of the divine which could be had via reason or instinct, independent of any purported special revelation.2. Of the two best works on Hume's philosophy of religion, J. C. A. Gaskin, Hume's Philosophy of Religion (Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey, 1988); and K. Yandell, Hume's "Inexplicable Mystery": His Views on Religion (...) (Philadelphia, 1990), only the first examines Hume's critique of the argument from prudence at all (see Hume's Philosophy of Religion, 194-203); but Gaskin's treatment of Hume's critique leaves untouched several important elements of the critique.3. B. Pascal, Pensées, ed. L. Lafuma, trans. J. Warrington (1670; reprint, London, 1960), 92-96.4. On Locke, see Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690), bk. 2, chap. 21. On Leibniz, see Die Philosophischen Schriften, 3:621. On Craig, see Theologiae Christianae Principia Mathematica (1699), chap. 6. On Paley, see A View of the Evidences of Christianity (1795), pt. 3, chap. 8.5. Tillotson, "The Wisdom of Being Religious," Sermon 1 in Works of Tillotson (London, 1820), 1:317-89 (hereafter cited as W).6. I do not mean to suggest that Hume was aware only of the sermon "The Wisdom of Being Religious," but that Hume was aware of Tillotson's claims and arguments as found in several of his sermons. "The Wisdom of Being Religious" is important because (i) it is explicitly mentioned by Hume in his A Letter From A Gentleman to His Friend in Edinburgh (1745; reprint, Edinburgh, 1967), 23, so we know that Hume had read this sermon; (ii) it was one of the best known of Tillotson's sermons; and (iii) it contains all of the elements of Tillotson's argument from prudence.7. T. Birch, "Life of the Author," in Works of Tillotson, 1:xix-xx. See also L. G. Locke, Tillotson (Copenhagen, 1954).8. Tillotson may have been aware of the Port Royal Logic version of the wager through Locke with whom Tillotson was in correspondence. See Tillotson, 83.9. Tillotson's case for (1) is treated extensively in his sermon, "The Advantage of Religion to Societies," Sermon 3 in Works of Tillotson, 1:409-23.10. In the passage quoted (W 361-62), Tillotson claims that the atheist will naturally dread a superior being who can defeat one's plans and judge one's actions.11. See also "The Efficacy, Usefulness, and Reasonableness Of Divine Faith," Sermon 223 in Works of Tillotson, 9:258-79. The idea of a grand lie is first found in Plato; see Republic 3:389, 414, 5:459.12. "Pascalian Wagering," Canadian Journal of Philosophy 16, no. 3 (1986): 437-54.13. Though Tillotson mentions "odds" and "hazards," he does not incorporate probability values in his version of the wager. His wager is a decision under uncertainty and not a decision under risk: he does not, that is, calculate the expected utility of theistic belief. Pascal was the first to formulate the wager as a decision under risk where the probability-weighted averages of the utility values (the expected utility) determine the right choice.14. Of course, these principles were not stated explicitly until much later. See Ian Hacking, The Emergence of Probability (London, 1975).15. For an example of the many-gods objection, see M. Martin, Atheism: A Philosophical Justification (Philadelphia, 1990), 232-34. For a response to the many-gods objection see my "Pascal's Wager and the Many-Gods Objection," International Philosophical Quarterly 31, no. 3 (1991): 309-17.16. See David Hume, Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, ed. N. Kemp Smith (1778; reprint, Indianapolis, 1947), 214, 218 (hereafter cited as "D").17. It should be noted that Philo's first point is interrupted by the second and is not completed until after the second is completed.18. I will assume that Philo speaks for Hume in this exchange with Cleanthes (D 219-27). Of the three points asserted by Philo in this exchange all three are asserted elsewhere by Hume. On the first point, see The Natural History of Religion (1757), secs. 9 and... (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)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:94 HUME ON THE PERCEPTION OF CAUSALITY Introduction Few issues in philosophy have generated as much debate and as little agreement as Hume's controversial theory of causality. The theory itself has been notoriously difficult to pin down, and not surprisingly empirical evidence has played a very minor role in the issue of what is meant by 'cause'. This is not, however, due to the fact that empirical tests of (...) the theory are hard to devise, but rather because such tests have usually been undertaken by experimental psychologists addressing slightly different issues and unaware of the philosophical implications of their work. However, recent signs of agreement on the overall nature of the theory (reviewed in Beauchamp and Rosenberg, chapter 1) allow a profitable integration of the theory with psychological research on the nature and importance of the perception of causal relations in conditioning. The significance of some of these experiments will be discussed later, and it will be argued that the factors Hume cited as being the essential determinants of causality, when complemented by the additional factor of the degree of contingency between the cause and the effect, correspond exactly with the factors known to affect conditioning; and therefore, that the laws of conditioning specify the properties that define causal relationships. Hume's Theory of Causality Hume was well aware of the importance of causal connections between events as a source of associations in the mind: 95 'Tis sufficient to observe, that there is no relation, which produces a stronger connexion in the fancy, and makes one idea more readily recall another, than the relation of cause and effect betwixt their objects (T II).2 In other words, if we believe a causal relationship exists between two events, then one of these events, the cause, will readily recall the other, the effect. The problem comes, of course, when we ask how it is that we know that a causal relationship exists. Obviously, a distinction must be made between causation as a physical property and causality as a mental idea. Traditionally, the following definitions have been made: causation is the physical property of one event causing another, such as one ball colliding with and causing the movement of a second ball. This property is part of the realm of mechanics and physics. Causality, on the other hand, describes the attribution by an organism of an effect to a cause. Such a distinction is supported by dictionary definitions. These two ways of thinking of what is meant by the term 'cause' are explicitly discussed by Hume. On the notion of physical causation, he says: We may define a CAUSE to be 'An object precedent and contiguous to another, and where all the objects resembling the former are plac'd in like relations of precedency and contiguity to those objects, that resemble the latter.' Of the mental idea of a causal relationship, on the other hand, he says: A CAUSE is an object precedent and contiguous to another, and so united with it, that the idea of the one determines the mind to form the idea of the other, and the impression of the one to form a more lively idea of the other. (T 170) Unfortunately, Hume was never less than imprecise in maintaining this dissociation, and often 96 he plainly confused the two definitions. Hence the academic controversy, between those who, like Kemp Smith, believe that the second definition represents a misguided attempt by Hume to analyse the causal relation on a mental level, 3 and those who see both definitions as essential (e.g. Beauchamp and Rosenberg). But surely the first definition simply represents Hume's view of causality as a philosophical relation, while the second represents his view of it as a psychological fact. And it is as much his intention to explain this fact, that ideas do not simply come into our heads for no apparent reason, but on the contrary are summoned up by preceding thoughts which they are associated, as it is to elucidate the philosophical relation. The extent of Hume's commitment to a psychological explanation of causal attribution has been recognised by Beauchamp and Rosenberg: 5 Hume plainly did develop a theory of causal... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume, Shaftesbury, and the Peirce-James Controversy EDMUND G. HOWELLS I. ACCORDING TO HUME, the "religious hypothesis" is "a particular method of accounting for the visible phenomena of the universe''1 that is "mere conjecture and hypothesis," (Enquiry, 145) and "both uncertain and useless" (Enquiry, 142). But there was one version of this hypothesis that seemed to pose particular difficulties for him in making these claims convincing. This was Shaftesbury 's (...) view of the world as the object of "divine passion." Besides Shaftesbury's massive influence at the time, Hume was wrestling with the peculiar disadvantage of having agreed with him on so many points, particularly in the attempt to solve the problem of personal identity. He attempted to discredit Shaftesbury's "particular method" on several levels: viz., it cannot be rationally justified, deductively or inductively ; it is not really a belief, so afortiori it is not a natural belief; to the extent it is confused with a genuine belief, its effects are very rare and transitory unless it degenerates into superstition or enthusiasm, which are demonstrably pernicious. 2 These attacks were frequently reinforced with arguments ad hominem. Shaftesbury's theism is extremely ambiguous. In the Essay Concerning Virtue or Merit he pronounced, "to believe therefore that everything is governed, ordered, or regulated for the best, by a designing principle or mind, necessarily good or permanent, is to be a perfect theist" (CH I:240). This is merely the least common denominator of what all eighteenth-century natural theologians agreed could be inferred a posteriori from some form of design argument. Shaftesbury used several analogies to support this view, each based upon a comparison of a part of the universe to the whole:(l) an artifact, for example, a watch (CH I: 190), a ship (CH i Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge,2nd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1902),p. 139;hereafter cited as Enquiry. The quotes in my opening statement are technically not from Hume himself but from his "sceptical friend who lovesparadoxes." But the closest Hume comes to a single refutation of all forms of the "religious hypothesis," comparable to Cleanthes' "entirely decisive" refutation of Demea's version of the ontological argument (Dialogues, 189),is stated by Hume in his own person in the final paragraph of this section (Enquiry, XI). Other abbreviations used in this paper are: Treatisefor.4 Treatiseof Human Nature, ed. L. A. SelbyBigge {Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1949);Abstract for An Abstract of a Treatiseof Human Nature, 1740, ed. J. M. Keynesand P. Sraffa (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1938);G&G for David Hume: The Philosophical Works, ed. T. H. Green and T. H. Grose, 4 vols. (London, 1886); Dialogues for Dialogues ConcerningNatural Religion, ed. Norman Kemp Smith, 2nd ed. (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1947); Letters for The Letters of David Hume, ed. J. Y. T. Grieg, 2 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1932); CH for Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, Times, ed. J. M. Robertson, 2 vols. (Indianapolis : Bobbs-Merrill, 1964). A roman numeral followed by a colon denotes volume; other roman numerals denote parts or sections; arabic numbers denote pages. 2For a striking exampleof one of their many points of agreement cf. Hume's essay(G&G 111: 144-150) with CH 11: 178-180. [4491 450 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY II:66), "a pile of regular architecture" (CH II:66-67), is to the artisan as the universe is to God. (2) A work of art, for example, a symphony (CH II :66), is to the artist as the universe is to God. (3) An organ is to the organism as the organism or species is to the teleologically structured and intelligent whole (CH I:243ff.) 3 (4) Microcosm (man) to Macrocosm (God), that is, man's mind is the governing principle over the other parts of his nature as God's mind is to the universe: though "all else may be only dream and shadow. All which even sense suggests may be deceitful.... Reason subsists." We are "in a manner conscious" that our reason is part of the pervasive world soul which inhabits our own, and "all nature's wonders serve to excite and perfect this idea of their author" (CH II : 112). In keeping with... (shrink)

Much philosophical progress has been made in elucidating the idea of evolutionary contingency in a recent re-burgeoning of the debate. However, additional progress has been impaired on three fronts. The first relates to its characterisation: the under-specification of various contingency claims has made it difficult to conceptually pinpoint the scope to which ‘contingency’ allegedly extends, as well as which biological forms are in contention. That is—there appears to be no systematic means with which to fully specify contingency claims which has (...) led to a tendency for authors to talk past each other. Secondly, on the matter of evidence, recent research has focused on the evidential import of convergent evolution which is taken to disconfirm the evolutionary contingency thesis. However, there has been a neglect of convergent evolution’s converse: ‘evolutionary idiosyncrasies’ or the singular evolution of certain forms, which I argue is evidentially supportive of evolutionary contingency. Thirdly, evolutionary contingency has often been claimed to vary in degrees and that the debate, itself, is a matter of ‘relative significance’. However, there has been no formal method of evaluating the strength of contingency and its relative significance in a particular domain. In this paper, I address all three issues by proposing a systematic means of fully specifying contingency theses with the concept of the modal range. Secondly, I propose an account of evolutionary idiosyncrasies, investigate the explanations for their occurrences, and, subsequently, spell out their significance with respect to the evolutionary contingency thesis. Finally, having been equipped with the evidential counterpart to convergent evolution, I shall sketch a likelihood framework for evaluating, precisely on the basis of a sequence of opposing data, the strength and relative significance of evolutionary contingency in a particular domain. With this in hand, the relative observations of idiosyncrasies and convergences can be informative of the strength and relative significance of contingency in any particular domain. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:20. HUME ON REASON1 One of the main concerns of Hume's Treatise of 2 Human Nature (T) is the investigation of the role that reason plays in belief and action. On the standard interpretation, Hume is taken to argue that neither our beliefs nor our actions are determined by reason; Books I and III are thus seen as sharing a common theme: the denigration of reason's role in human (...) affairs. Arguing for this view, Kemp Smith claims that "Hume's principle of the subordination of reason to the passions runs through his whole philosophy ", not merely through Books II and III. This interpretation of Hume's enterprise presupposes that the faculty of reason whose role in action is discussed in Book III is the same faculty which has been shown not to determine belief in Book I. In this paper I argue that a univocal reading of 'reason' and related terms like 'reasoning' throughout the Treatise has the consequence that there are major internal inconsistencies in Hume's philosophy, cannot account for some important sections of the work, and leads to misinterpretation of the nature of his overall argument. In its place I develop an interpretation which avoids these difficulties and emphasizes the radical nature of Hume's naturalism. The Argument of the Treatise Let me begin by reviewing the salient features of the main argument of the Treatise. In Book I, Hume is concerned to show that our most fundamental beliefs — e.g., about the continued and distinct existence of object, about what we are not presently observing, and in the existence of the self — are not acquired by reason, but instead by the imagination, influenced by custom and habit. In a typical passage, he argues: Reason can never shew us the connexion of one object with another, tho' aided by experience, and the observation of their constant conjunction in all past instances. When the mind, 21. therefore, passes from the idea or impression of one object to the idea or belief of another, it is not determin'd by reason... (T92)4 In Book III, and in Book II, Part III, Section III (Of the influencing motives of the will), Hume is concerned to show that reason alone can never produce any action, or give rise to volition (T414), and the same faculty is as incapable of preventing volition, or of disputing the preference with any passion or emotion (T414-415). Hume uses this result in Book III, Part I, Section I, to show that the rules of morality...are not conclusions of our reason (T457). Proponents of the univocal reading of 'reason' would hold that the Treatise thus constitutes a continuous attack on reason, showing that it causes neither our most fundamental beliefs nor our actions and moral judgments. But if this reading were correct, Hume would fail to avail himself of an obvious and persuasive argument for the conclusion he reaches in Books II and III, and in the latter books he would contradict the results of Book I. Conflict between Book I and Books II and III If Hume did have the same faculty in mind throughout the Treatise, a strong argument to show that reason does not cause action would be available to him in Books II and III, utilizing the results he has established in Book I. The principal way in which reason would be thought to influence action is by informing us of facts about efficient means to achieve our ends and about the possible effects of actions — facts about causal relations. Since the conclusion of Book I is that judgments about causal relations do not result from reason, it follows that even if such beliefs did cause action, it would still not be the case that reason caused action. But Hume not only does not make such an argument in Books II and III, he denies one of its premises — the claim that beliefs about causal relations do not result from reason — which was the main conclusion of Book I. In the 22. later books he asserts repeatedly that reason can cause beliefs about causal relations. For example, in Book III, he says:...reason, in a strict and philosophical... (shrink)

Paternalist policies in public health often aim to improve people’s well-being by reducing their options, regulating smoking offering a prime example. The well-being challenge is to show that people really are better off for having their options reduced. The distribution challenge is to show how the policies are justified since they produce losers as well as winners. If we start from these challenges, we can understand the importance of the empirical evidence that a very high proportion of smokers regret smoking. (...) In short, it is important that they regret it and important that the proportion is so high. This paper explains how, philosophically, regret can relate to well-being and it considers some of the strengths and weakness in the empirical research that the explanation brings out. The regret case for regulating smoking is indeed strong, although not as strong as the empirical researchers think. It is much weaker for paternalistic intervention in other public health problems, such as obesity and binge drinking. (shrink)

Multiple Sclerosis is a debilitating chronic autoimmune disease of the central nervous system that results in lower quality of life. Medication adherence is important for reducing relapse, disease progression, and MS-related symptoms, particularly during the early stages of MS. However, adherence may be impacted by negative emotional states. Therefore, it is important to identify protective factors. Past research suggests that the ability to discriminate between negative emotional states, also known as negative emotion differentiation, may be protective against enactment of maladaptive (...) risk-related behaviors. However, less is known as to how NED may promote adaptive health behaviors such as medication adherence. Utilizing weekly diaries, we investigated whether NED moderates the association between negative affect and medication adherence rates across 58 weeks among patients newly diagnosed with MS. Results revealed that NED significantly moderated the relationship between negative affect and medication adherence. Specifically, greater negative affect was associated with lower adherence only for individuals reporting low NED. However, this link disappeared for those reporting moderate to high NED. Building upon past research, our findings suggest that NED may promote adaptive health behaviors and have important clinical implications for the treatment and management of chronic illness. (shrink)