Pity is an emotion which is intimately connected with virtue. If I were impervious to anger I could still be a paragon of rectitude. My emotional peculiarity might even be explained by moral saintliness. If I had a pitiless heart my entire life would surely be an abject moral failure. The imputation of an inability to pity strikes us as a damning moral criticism; it is one we are likely to make, for example, against those who commit acts of extreme cruelty. Yet pity is hardly ever welcomed by its recipients, and for that reason it differs in a puzzling way from other emotions which are closely associated with virtue, such as gratitude or compassion. The prospect of becoming an object of pity is alarming, and not merely because we fear the misfortune that would evoke pity in others; it is alarming in part because we suspect that being on the receiving end of that emotion could seriously aggravate our plight. We also regard an aversion to being pitied as commendable, perhaps even morally commendable. There is something shameful in wanting to be pitied, just as there is in the indulgence of self-pity. The aged and the physically disabled do not want our pity, as a rule, and we think better of them for not wanting it. Finally, we know that those who give pity are frequently guilty of serious wrongdoing. A pitiless heart may be a terrible thing, but a fondness for dispensing pity is scarcely any better.

Fatalism is a doctrine about which philosophers have by and large been in complete agreement. Even the arguments they have used to dispose of it have been remarkably constant. Yet some of these arguments are surprisingly inadequate. The purpose of this discussion is to point out a set of fallacies which are especially common in recent discussions of fatalism. Their common feature is an emphasis on the relation between fatalism and deliberation. The claim they make is that if fatalism is true, any deliberation over one's future actions is pointless. If this is not quite a refutation of fatalism by itself, it is at least a strong objection, especially when advanced ad hominem. Yet I think that it is wholly false. In the following discussion I will show how every argument intended to establish this incompatibility between fatalism and deliberation involves some fallacy.

One of the most frequently discussed passages from Locke's An Essay Concerning the Human Understanding is that which occurs in IV.vii.9, where he writes:

I shall not pretend that what Locke is claiming in this passage is wholly clear, nor shall I try to defend the views expressed in it. My intention is to show that what he says here has been widely misinterpreted. It has become common to treat the contents of the passage as aberrant; as presenting a ridiculous variant on his main thesis on abstraction, or that very thesis elaborated with a foolish rhetorical flourish. But what is said in this passage is not something said elsewhere, nor is it an alternative to something said elsewhere. Here, and nowhere else, Locke shows awareness of implications for his doctrine of abstraction, of views he holds about simple ideas.

Empiricist theories of knowledge are attractive for they offer the prospect of a unitary theory of knowledge based on relatively well understood physiological and cognitive processes. Mathematical knowledge, however, has been a traditional stumbling block for such theories. There are three primary features of mathematical knowledge which have led epistemologists to the conclusion that it cannot be accommodated within an empiricist framework: 1) mathematical propositions appear to be immune from empirical disconfirmation; 2) mathematical propositions appear to be known with certainty; and 3) mathematical propositions are necessary. Epistemologists who believe that some nonmathematical propositions, such as logical or ethical propositions, cannot be known a posteriori also typically appeal to the three factors cited above in defending their position. The primary purpose of this paper is to examine whether any of these alleged features of mathematical propositions establishes that knowledge of such propositions cannot be a posteriori.

The resurgence of interest in systematic moral theory over the past ten to fifteen years has brought to the fore debates concerning issues in moral epistemology, in particular, questions regarding the correct method for moral inquiry. Much of the controversy has focused on John Rawls’ method of reflective equilibrium. One merit claimed for this coherence method is that it transcends the traditional two tiered approach to moral inquiry according to which one must choose as one's starting points either particular moral judgments or general moral principles. Several of Rawls’ prominent critics have charged that Rawls’ loosely assembled rabble of starting points are not epistemically hefty enough to hoist a moral theory upon their shoulders. Perhaps unwittingly, these critics cling to the two level conception of theory construction, for they both defend general principles as the only appropriate starting points for theory construction and insist upon viewing Rawls as one working within the two tiered conception who opts for more particular judgments as starting points.

Textual and historical subtleties aside, let's call the idea that numbers are properties (or classes) of equinumerous sets ‘the Fregean thesis.’ In a recent paper, Palle Yourgrau claims to have found a decisive refutation of this thesis. More surprising still, he claims in addition that the essence of this refutation is found in the Grundlagen itself – the very masterpiece in which Frege first proffered his thesis. My intention in this note is to evaluate these claims, and along the way to shed some light on relevant passages of the Grundlagen. I will argue that Yourgrau does not make his case.

The arguments with which we are concerned are found in the last three sections of Yourgrau's paper. A pervasive difficulty in these sections is that it is not clear exactly what Yourgrau is arguing against. The stated object of his attack is the Fregean thesis (d. 581-6), a thesis about what numbers are; however, instead of a frontal assault, his strategy is to embark on a foray into the ill-defined issue of what it is that numbers number (586ff.), where, roughly speaking, a number n numbers an object x just in case n can be legitimately assigned to x. The reason for this shift in emphasis appears to be rooted in a misconception. As we’ll see in more detail shortly, Yourgrau's argument against the Fregean thesis is based on an extension of a well known argument of Frege's found in §§22-3 of the Grundlagen, which Glenn Kessler has tagged the ‘relativity argument,’ (henceforth ‘RA’). According to Yourgrau, this is an argument ‘to the effect that what is literally numbered cannot simply be concrete objects’ (586). This is incorrect. Frege himself clarifies the point of the argument in §21 with the following preface:

In Impartial Reason, Stephen Darwall presents an account of rational agency in which reasons to act are both motivational and normative in nature. On the one hand, they are facts about an action reflective awareness of which can genuinely influence preference and conduct. On the other hand, they are also capable of justifying action, of showing in an all-things-considered sense that a particular action is at least as choiceworthy as are alternatives to it. Furthermore, these two aspects of reasons to act are intimately related, since, ideally, at any rate, an agent's conduct is motivated by his awareness of himself as a particular subject of a given set of norms.

George Terzis makes several objections to claims and arguments I advanced in Impartial Reason. I cannot take them all up, but I would like to respond to some, which I shall group into three: (a) whether reasons depend on norms applying to all rational agents; (b) how the unity of agency relates to such norms; and (c) the self-support condition. Since the objections concerning (a) cut most deeply against the central thesis of Impartial Reason, I shall begin with them. Before I do that, however, I should make some preliminary remarks.

Impartial Reason offers an internalist theory of reasons, but one that is, I believe, more sensitive to the normative character of reasons than internalist theories usually are.1 A theory of reasons is internalist if it holds that something's being a reason depends somehow on its capacity to affect motivation. Unlike internalist theories that identify reasons with de facto motives, however, IR insists on the normative character of reasons as tending to justify conduct as rational. It does this by holding that a reason to act is something which motivates when appropriately (or rationally) considered. The normative or justificatory weight of reasons, then, is held to derive from a normative ideal of rational consideration. Reasons inherit as justificatory weight the motivational force they would come to have in an ideally rational process of practical reflection.