It is a common view among philosophers of language that both propositions and sentences are structured objects. One obvious question to ask about such a view is whether there is any interesting connection between these two sorts of structure. The author identifies two theses about this relationship. Identity (ID) – the structure of a sentence and the proposition it expresses are identical. Determinism (DET) – the structure of a sentence determines the structure of the proposition it expresses. After noting that ID entails DET, the author argues against DET (and therefore also against ID). This argument is based on considerations to do with unarticulated constituents, but it is not ultimately empirical. As well as answering a question suggested by contemporary theories of propositions, the conclusion is significant because some, but not all, of the theories of propositions currently popular entail ID and/or DET. Unless there is a response to the argument here, those theories are refuted.

Descartes held that animals are material automata without minds. However, this raises a puzzle. Descartes’s argument for this doctrine relies on the claims that animals lack language and general intelligence. But these claims seem compatible with the view that animals have minds. As a solution to this puzzle, I defend what I call the introspective-analogical interpretation. According to this interpretation, Descartes employs introspection to show that certain human behaviors do not depend on thought but rather on automatic bodily processes. Descartes then argues that animal behavior resembles only those behaviors that are automatic in humans. Analogy thus supports the view that the behaviors of animals do not depend on thought but are, rather, automatic. And if animal behavior is automatic, then animals are best regarded as automata.

Prior to 1651, Hobbes was agnostic about the existence of God. Hobbes argued that God’s existence could neither be demonstrated nor proved, so that those who reason about God’s existence will systematically vacillate, sometimes thinking God exists, sometimes not, which for Hobbes is to say they will doubt God’s existence. Because this vacillation or doubt is inherent to the subject, reasoners like himself will judge that settling on one belief rather than another is epistemically unjustified. Hobbes’s agnosticism becomes apparent once we attend to his distinctions between the propositional attitudes one might adopt towards theological claims, including supposing, thinking, having faith and knowing.

Moral judgments are typically experienced as being categorically authoritative – i.e. as having a prescriptive force that (i) is motivationally gripping independently of both conventional norms and one's pre-existing desires, and (ii) justificationally trumps both conventional norms and one's pre-existing desires. We argue that this key feature is best accommodated by the meta-ethical position we call ‘cognitivist expressivism’, which construes moral judgments as sui generis psychological states whose distinctive phenomenological character includes categorical authoritativeness. Traditional versions of expressivism cannot easily accommodate the justificationally trumping aspect of categorical authoritativeness, because they construe moral judgments as fundamentally desire-like. Moral realism cannot easily accommodate the aspect of inherent motivational grip, because realism construes moral judgments as a species of factual belief.

Under the title of ‘the axiom of existence’, hereafter (AE), John R. Searle has reduced to compact dictum a view to which many philosophers subscribe:

(AE) ‘Whatever is referred to must exist’.

(A less equivocal, though inelegant formulation would be: ‘It is necessary that whatever is referred to exist at some time or other’.) In this paper I shall offer two major arguments against adopting (AE), at least on certain assumptions. There have been a number of defenses of (AE), among them those arguing that it is fundamental to any systematic philosophy of language or logic. With the exception of discussing some of Searle's remarks in part Ill of this paper I shall not comment on any of these defenses.

• A. (1) Either God can create a stone which He cannot lift, or He cannot create a stone which He cannot lift.

• (2) If God can create a stone which He cannot lift, then He is not omnipotent (since He cannot lift the stone in question).

• (3) If God cannot create a stone which He cannot lift, then He is not omnipotent (since He cannot create the stone in question).

• (4) Therefore, God is not omnipotent.

In a paper published in Analysis I tried to show (a) that any attempt to find something wrong with all arguments of the general form of A above, any attempt to resolve the “paradox,” must fail, (b) that the reason these attempts must fail is that at least some arguments of this form are essentially sound, and (c) that the only thing which makes these arguments seem paradoxical, their conclusion to the effect that God is not omnipotent, is, like at least some versions of the arguments to this conclusion, quite correct.

Some wag (was it Mark Twain?) reported the following story: Scholars have recently established that the Iliad and the Odyssey were not, after all, written by Homer. They were actually written by another author, of the same name.

The majority of current theories of naming and reference, including ones as divergent in other respects as those of Russell and Searle, would rule this story impossible. They would do so on roughly these grounds: the sense and reference (one or the other, or one through the other, depending on the theory) of the name ‘Homer’ is determined, given the absence of other reliable testimony, by the sole description: ‘Author of the Iliad and the Odyssey’. ‘Homer is the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey’ is therefore known a priori, hence necessarily true. There could not be another author of that name and claim to fame.

In lectures delivered at Princeton in the Winter of 1970, Saul Kripke offered a lucid alternative to such theories (which I shall lump together under the term ‘descriptivism’).

Those who disturb the hornets’ nest better be thick skinned. Keeping that in mind, thus far I kept my silence in the face of the adverse reactions my essay “On What One Knows” has provoked in the literature. As to the merits of the various objections, moreover, I trusted the judgement of the philosophical community to sort them out, and either recognize their futility, or make the necessary adjustments in my arguments without the need to reject the conclusions.

In the case of Dunn and Suter, however, I decided to make an exception. The reason is that they indeed succeeded in pointing out certain difficulties in my position, which are not due to misunderstandings, conflicting linguistic intuitions, or other superficial sources. And, second, meeting their objections gives me the opportunity of proposing a significant refinement of my theory, the need for which I increasingly felt in the meanwhile myself.

Discussing the influence of the coherence of our perceptions on our belief in the continued existence of objects when unperceived (in Part IV of Book I of the Treatise), Hume says:

It is often maintained that one insight of Kant’s Critical philosophy is its recognition of the need to distinguish accounts of knowledge acquisition from knowledge justification. In particular, it is claimed that Kant held that the detailing of a concept’s acquisition conditions is insufficient to determine its legitimacy. I argue that this is not the case at least with regard to geometrical concepts. Considered in the light of his pre-Critical writings on the mathematical method, construction in the Critique can be seen to be a form of concept acquisition, one that is related to the modal phenomenology of geometrical judgement.

According to Terence Penelhum, Philo's confession in the last part of Hume's Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion reveals on the side of the author a reconciliatory and pacifying attitude towards the liberal moderate clergy of his days. This article investigates whether another reading of this intriguing text is not more appropriate. It defends the idea that Philo's speeches and Cleanthes’ reactions to it in the last part of the Dialogues reveal on Hume's side an attitude of mild despair and isolation towards the religious culture of eighteenth-century Scotland, in both its orthodox and more moderate form.

Frege's views on identity continue to provoke scholars, and rightly so. In particular his view in Begriffsschrift (Bs) of 1879, and its relation to his view in ‘Über Sinn und Bedeutung’ (SB) of 1892 deserve careful attention. The issues involved have a wider significance than Frege's specific views on identity in different periods, though these are important enough. They concern also the move from what I call below ‘thin’ semantics, which is exhausted in signs being assigned content, to a ‘thick’ semantics, in which ‘modes of determining their content’ (Bs), or Sinne (SB) are also concerned.

I argue that using information from a cognitive representation to guide the performance of a primary task is sufficient for intellectual attention, and that this account of attention is endorsed by scientists working in the refreshing, n-back, and retro-cue paradigms. I build on the work of Wayne Wu (2014), who developed a similarly motivated account, but for perceptual attention rather than intellectual attention. The way that I build on Wu’s account provides a principled way of responding to Watzl’s (2011a, 2017) challenge to Wu, according to which Wu’s style of account is unintuitively broad. The fact that I find unity in the practice of science puts us in a position to resist the claim that scientists studying intellectual attention are frequently failing to study the same thing.

A common theme of libertarians is that there is a conflict between the values of liberty and equality. Achieving equality, so libertarians often argue, would require frequent interference in individuals’ lives, creating constraints on freedom and obstacles to the development of individuality. Although not himself endorsing a libertarian conception of liberty, Oxford philosopher G.A. Cohen recently has advanced the surprising thesis that there is a tension in Marxist normative thought that in an interesting way parallels the often heard libertarian challenge to egalitarianism.

What does it mean to say that the Universe had a beginning? There are different ways of spelling this out. I shall develop them, consider the logical relations between them, and support one as best capturing our intuitive understanding of this notion. I shall then draw a conclusion about whether Time could (it is logically possible) have a beginning. Finally I shall consider, on my preferred understanding of what it is for the Universe to have a beginning, what physical cosmology can show about whether it did in fact have a beginning.

I understand by a Universe, a system of substances temporally connected to each other. I understand by a substance a thing with causal powers or liabilities, that is able to act or be acted upon. Substances will thus include both material objects and any other physical objects there may be such as chunks of energy or the fluctuating ‘vacuum’ of quantum field theory, and immaterial objects, if there are any, such as souls and ghosts. I understand by two substances being temporally connected that they exist for periods of time which are either earlier than, overlap with, or are later than each other.

It is relatively common for philosophers to doubt whether we have any reason to act as morality requires. But it is very difficult to find philosophers who are willing to doubt, in a similar way, the idea that we have reason to act as instrumental rationality requires; reason, that is, to take effective steps toward attaining the ends we have accepted as our own. The inference from the fact that a certain action is an effective means of satisfying an agent's ends to the conclusion that that agent has reason to perform that action is held by almost everyone to be, as it is sometimes said, automatic:once it is determined that the action in question bears the specified relation to one's goals, nothing more needs to be shown. But fewer philosophers are willing to grant that morality possesses this sort of automatic reason-giving force. Rather, it is quite commonly held that some additional consideration needs to be cited in order to show that an agent has reason to act as she is morally required. The fact that an action is morally required, claim those who adhere to this type of position, is not enough in itself.

The philosophy of primary and secondary qualities is in a state of some confusion. There is no agreement as to the basis upon which the two classes of quality may be distinguished—a host of features, as diverse as perceptible by more than one sense and belonging to the definition of matter, are offered as the mark of the primary. There is not even agreement on which qualities belong to which group. Shape, size and solidity are generally held to be primary, while colours, smells, and the like (I) are favoured secondary candidates. But for large numbers of qualities, for example being acidic, malleable, rust-proof—or, among perceptible qualities, glistening and vibrating—we are offered no effective guidance.

Inevitably, in such a situation, we are without clear answers to the questions; Why should any distinction be made between primaries and secondaries? Must all qualities be the one or the other? To the solution of which problems does the distinction serve as a preliminary step? What special relationship is there between primary qualities and scientific theory, or between secondary qualities and peculiarities in perception?

Most of us, were we faced with a life threatening situation, would try to avoid it; we do not want to die. Yet Lucretius has argued that death can be ‘nothing to us,’ for when death has occurred we don't exist: we can't suffer something if we don't exist.

If death can be a misfortune, what is the misfortune suffered, and who suffers it? The misfortune must be suffered by the person who dies, before death has occurred, otherwise – as Lucretius points out – there is no subject to suffer the misfortune. But what kind of misfortune can the misfortune of death be, that a person can suffer it before he or she dies? This question provides the focus of the paper.

Our attitudes towards death and life are determined in part by beliefs we have about a variety of things, for example, whether or not there is a life after death. As I shall assume that life ceases at death the attitudes towards death for which I seek explanations will not be universally endorsed; nor are the attitudes towards life, in terms of which the explanations will be given, universally endorsed. My project is not to defend a set of attitudes but to show that the set of attitudes towards life that I consider provide an explanation of a set of attitudes that some people have towards death.