Included among the many topics on which Aristotle writes in the Nicomacheon Ethics is an account of incontinence or akrasia. Many controversies have arisen among interpreters of Aristotle on this issue, and a few of these disputes will be discussed in this paper. In the first part of this paper I shall indicate the usual way of reading Aristotle's account of incontinence, which I shall call the natural interpretation. In the second section I shall raise some apparent difficulties with the natural interpretation by pointing out three passages in the Nicomacheon Ethics which seem to be inconsistent with it. Finally, in the concluding three sections of this paper I shall argue that the three passages allegedly inconsistent with the natural interpretation can be shown to be consistent with the general line of argument that the natural interpretation takes Aristotle to be following. In showing how these passages can be reconciled with the usual way of reading Aristotle's account of akrasia, a much clearer and more complete picture of what his view is emerges. In addition, this reading makes Aristotle's account of incontinence more philosophically acceptable - though it is not without its problems - than it is normally supposed to be.

According to an accepted view of the nature of evaluation, which many trace to Hume, knowledge does not provide us with the criteria for judging whether something is good. For this, it is said, we need something like a pro-attitude such as C. L. Stevenson argues for, or a decision such as R. M. Hare argues for. Some act of the will is required to create the criteria for evaluation. I shall argue against this view. I shall argue that the criteria for evaluating something are identical with the criteria for classifying it and that, therefore, the knowledge which provides us with the criteria for classification provides us with the criteria for evaluation.

In Section I, I give a brief account of the way in which knowledge provides the criteria for a classification and the significance of borderline cases and degree differences in classification. In Section II, I develop the idea of degree differences in classification and tie it to the idea of evaluation. In Section III, I defend my account of evaluative criteria by contrasting it with R. M. Hare's account, and I argue that the criteria for the class concept of man are at the basis of moral evaluation. I end with a brief illustration of my thesis from Kant's Metaphysics of Morals.

Is belief in God rational? Over a century ago, Hegel (following Kant) and Søren Kierkegaard established one set of parameters for discussing that question, but in a language that appears opaque to many philosophers today. Very recently, Alvin Plantinga, James Ross, and George Mavrodes have been debating similar issues in a modern analytic idiom. In this essay, I want to use this modern philosophical language in an attempt to clarify certain issues surrounding the relevant notion of “rationality” and related notions essential to the natural theologian, and in so doing attempt to make presentable the dispute between Hegel and Kierkegaard.

For our purposes here, I take “rationality” to be predicated of an epistemological concept of belief, even if, as I believe, any such notion would have to be a special case and a logical derivative of a more general notion of “rationality” as primarily practical.

What is the source of the hardness of the logical must? What does the necessity of mathematical and logical inference consist in? If I am plotting the curve y = x2 and assume that x = 2 I must conclude that y = 4; no other consequence can be drawn. What is the nature of this ‘must'?

Understanding Wittgenstein's answer to this question is essential to understanding his later philosophy. The question of the nature of logical or mathematical necessity is as fundamental for the Investigations as it obviously was for the Tractatus. Barry Stroud's article “Wittgenstein and Logical Necessity” certainly is still one of the most illuminating and important of the papers dealing with this question.

Philosophical theses are sometimes assailed from so many sides that, even if they have not been refuted, it becomes difficult for them to gain a fair hearing. A case in point seems to be the thesis that the sentence ‘Every event has a cause' (commonly known as the Causal Principle) may on occasion be used to assert something which, as a matter of contingent fact, is either true or false. In the interests of logical chivalry, I want to take up its defence.

My aim, it should be noted, is not to defend the truth of the Causal Principle, to claim that our world is one in which every event is causally determined by another event or set of events. So I shall have nothing to say about the arguments of those who—like the quantum physicists, Heisenberg, Bohr, and Born—claim to have shown that the Causal Principle is false; claim, that is, that our world is fundamentally indeterministic. My concern is only to establish the right of determinists and indeterminists alike to take seriously the question whether our world is in fact one in which every event has a cause.

One of the conclusions reached by Antony Flew in his interesting paper “Is There a Case for Disembodied Survival?” is that “if there is to be a case for individual and personal survival, what survives must be some sort of astral body.” In the present paper I shall investigate whether he is really justified, on the basis of the arguments he presents, in drawing this conclusion.

In this paper, I wish to revisit some familiar terrain, namely an argument that occurs in many of Russell's writings on the theory of descriptions and which he repeatedly describes as a “proof.” For the past two decades this argument has been the subject of considerable philosophical controversy. The prevailing view has been that it is invalid. Leonard Linsky, for instance, maintains that it is (viciously) circular, while Peter Geach, W.V.O. Quine, and Alan White have argued that it equivocates on two different senses of the word “means” and is therefore fallacious. Yet the argument has also had its defenders. In an acute and persuasive paper, R.K. Perkins has recently contended that some of these critics fail to understand that Russell is employing the term “means” in a special and technical sense, where it is equivalent to “naming”, and that when so understood, the argument does in fact go through.

In an examination of Ryle's distinction between knowing how and knowing that D. G. Brown is led to the conclusion that “All knowing how is knowing that.” The distinction (in the form that Ryle drew it) is improper, and these tags should be dropped. All knowledge is propositional, after all, though there is a legitimate way of retaining the essentials of Ryle's account. Knowledge for which the primary evidence is a person's performance replaces the category of knowing how in this reformulated version of the distinction. But to have this type of knowledge is to know the answers to questions concerning the way in which it can be done. And this is knowing that.

Consideration of the counting and reidentification of particulars leads naturally enough to the orthodox doctrine that, “on pain of indefiniteness,” an identity statement in some way involves or presupposes a general term or “covering concept”: i.e., that the principium individuationis or criterion of identity implied depends upon the kind of thing in question. Thus it is said that an auditor understands the question whether A is the same as B only in so far as he knows, however informally or implicitly, the answer to the supplementary question, “The same what?”

Norman Malcolm wrote:

Malcolm nowhere suggests why this remark should be regarded as true. Indeed, many philosophers would regard it is palpably false. After all, it is not at all obvious that one can hope for, intend to do, or believe what is in every sense of the word, impossible. I think, however, that Malcolm's observation is correct; and this paper is devoted to showing why it is correct. In the concluding section I present an account of dreaming that shows why it is that impossible dreams are possible.

“What can a person dream?” This is an odd query; and what it might mean to put this question (if, indeed, it is a sensible question) is not at all transparent. It is not like asking what a person might dream, when this is understood as a request for what someone is likely to dream, or what one may reasonably expect someone to dream, say, on the evening of a day in which one had visited a dentist.

I feel most flattered by the careful attention which Dr. Roger Smook has devoted to my paper “Is There a Case for Disembodied Survival?” and I am duly grateful to him.

We certainly agree that the most important thing in his reply is his response to my challenge “to show: (a) that there can be a coherent notion of an incorporeal personal being, and (b) that a being of this sort could significantly be said to be the same person as he was when he was a creature of flesh and blood” (p. 139). Smook's response runs: “By a conscious being (henceforth abbreviated ‘CB’) I understand any entity which has an ongoing conscious life of however rudimentary a sort …. I begin by assuming 1.

There are a number of different grounds on which philosophers have argued that the question “Should I be moral?” is unintelligible or at least somewhat odd. Some evidently are unable to understand ‘should’ in any other way than ‘morally ought’, with the consequence that the question can admit of no answer but the affirmative. Others, influenced by the later Wittgenstein, hold that, although ‘should ’-questions have a role within the moral language game, the ‘should’ in the question above has no real function, it is like a ‘machine idling,’ and we can attribute no real sense to it. Now I consider neither of these arguments to be successful or even very plausible, but I do wish to consider a further argument which is logically independent of the above and which appears, initially at least, to be quite plausible.

rests in part on the twin claims that the best reason we have for belief in other minds is the analogical argument, and the best reason we have for belief in God is the teleological argument. The conclusion also rests on Plantinga's analyses of these two arguments, which show that both fail for very similar reasons. Thus the beliefs based on these arguments are “in the same epistemological boat,“ and Plantinga draws his conclusion. This is, as James Tomberlin says, “an ingenious argument for the conclusion that belief in God is justified in the absence of any good reason whatever.“

In this paper I wish to consider the two claims mentioned above, that the best reasons we have for belief in other minds and belief in God are the analogical and teleological arguments, respectively.

This essay is arranged in three sections. In the first I consider interaction problems that can frustrate maximizers. My object here is to add to the kind of case discussed by Gauthier, another in which maximizers would not do well. In the next section I set out conditions under which ‘straight’ or ordinary maximizers could avoid their problems as surely and as easily as could Gauthier's ‘constrained’ maximizers. And in the last section I comment on the relative merits of straight and ‘constrained’ maximization. Attention here is paid first to the suggestion that straight maximizers in view of their problems would choose not to be straight maximizers, would indeed choose to be ‘constrained’ maximizers, and that this shows that there is something wrong with straight maximization. Rejecting this inference, I turn in conclusion to the idea that it follows from the ‘incompleteness’ of straight maximization, from the fact that it is not always possible, that there is something wrong with it. This inference too is rejected.

In “Divine Foreknowledge and Human Freedom” [6] Anthony Kenny returns to a ‘very old difficulty’ stated by Aquinas at Summa Theologiae Ia, 14, 3, 3. Kenny rejects the Thomistic strategy of treating God as an atemporal knower, Who grasps all events of history simultaneously in a timeless present. He takes this notion to be neither Biblical nor coherent. He hopes instead to reconcile a temporal God's literal foreknowledge with free action among men. I shall follow Kenny in treating the concept of God as a temporal being. But I shall argue against the attempts of Kenny and some other recent writers to provide a reconciliation.

As little as a decade ago most moral philosophers still believed that the exercise of their craft did not include defending positions on actual moral problems. More recently they have come to their senses, one happy result being a spate of articles in the last few years on the subject of abortion. These discussions have contributed much toward an understanding of the abortion issue, but for the most part they have not attempted a full analysis of the morality of abortion. Such an analysis is too large a task for a single paper, but a sketch of it will be undertaken here, the details to be filled in elsewhere.

1. The notion of moral philosophy that has been dominant in Anglo-American philosophizing since G.E. Moore is peculiar. Reviewing traditional works such as Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, Hume's Treatise, Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, and Mill's Utilitarianism, one is tempted to call this new notion of moral philosophy a different subject; and if one does this, it is less peculiar. However, let us accept that this new sort of moral philosophy does belong to the previous tradition; granted this, I shall explain why I think it peculiar through considering the status of the judgement that Hitler was a bad man.

2. Consider the sentential function ‘x is (was) a bad man’. ‘Hitler’ seems an obviously suitable substitution for ‘x, at least in the most important sense. That is, one wants to say that if it is not proper or true to say that ‘Hitler was a bad man’ or ‘Hitler was bad’, it fs never proper or true to issue a sentence of this form, restricting x to human beings. Hitler seems indeed, in this most important sense, to be a paradigm case. One wants to say: if Hitler was not a bad man, who could be?

Lately, the attitude of philosophers generally toward the free will issue has taken what I regard as an inauspicious turn. Where the predominant opinion had been that determinism and freedom were at harmony with one another, today it is incompatibilism which seems to prevail, and new voices raised in defense of libertarianism now offer their promise that problems once thought prohibitive to an acceptance of contra-causal freedom might be surmounted. I shall attempt to show that this recent rejection of compatibilism in fact rests on a mistake, and I shall suggest the outline of a solution to the free will issue which reconciles determinism and freedom.

We shall say that an event is nomologically necessary if and only if given a specified set of conditions (the initial conditions) and the actually existing laws of nature, the statement of that event could in principle be deduced as the conclusion of a valid deductive argument having the statement of initial conditions and the statement of the relevant law(s) as premises.

Henry Sidgwick remarked in The Methods of Ethics regarding pleasure that the “distinctions of quality that Mill and others urge may … be admitted as grounds of preference, but only in so far as they can be resolved into distinctions of quantity.” Sidgwick had not believed that Mill intended that resolution and commented in his history that “it is hard to see in what sense a man who of two alternative pleasures chooses the less pleasant on the ground of its superiority in quality can be affirmed to take ‘greatest’ happiness or pleasure as his standard of preference.” Though Mill's view has been discussed rather often (especially in elementary texts), the state of the criticism has more or less stabilized with Sidgwick's conclusion.