According to Stephen Macedo, ‘[liberal], democratic politics is not only about individual rights and limited government, it is also about justification… political justification… understood politically.’ ‘Political justification,’ he asserts, ‘is a core liberal goal.’ Gerald Gaus, similarly, writes that the ‘idea of public justification is at the heart of a contractual liberalism.’ Very many other contemporary political philosophers believe that the politics of a liberal polity must be justifiable to its Citizens. In what follows I shall seek to understand the basis for such a belief and, in particular, to expose two possible sources in the views of Locke and Kant. Neither source, I shall argue, provides any warrant for the demand in question. First the bald claim — that the politics of a polity needs justifying — must be unpacked. By way of initial clarification I shall say something about, respectively, ‘justification’ and ‘politics.’

In Making It Explicit (1994) Robert Brandom claims that we may distinguish those linguistic expressions with object-representational purport — the singular terms — from others merely by the structure of their inferential relations. A good part of his inferentialist program rests on this claim. At first blush it can seem implausible: linguistic expressions stand in inferential relations to each other, so how could we appeal to those relations to decide on the obtaining of what seems to be relation between linguistic expressions and objects in general (viz., x purports to represent y)? It is perhaps not surprising then that Brandom's proposal fails. But it definitely is surprising how it fails. The problem is that in order to specify the sort of generality there is to an expression's inferential role, one must appeal to some version of the traditional distinction between extensional and nonextensional occurrences of expressions, and there appears to be no way to draw anything like that distinction in inferentialist terms. For the inferential proprieties governing the different occurrences an expression can have are so varied that they do not determine a binary partition of those occurrences.

As an Israeli writing at the turn of the twenty-first Century, I have become accustomed to hearing the word ‘settlement’ used by liberals almost invariably as a derogatory term. The Jewish settlements to the west of the Jordan river, now populated by close to a quarter of a million Jews, are often said to be a central obstacle to peace in the Middle East, as well as being immoral in and of themselves. Consistent liberals realize that this attitude poses a problem for the endorsement of the Zionist effort altogether, since settlement has been a central tenet of this doctrine from the start and the main practical tool for achieving its goals within contested territories. It was also the primary apparatus for achieving Western control over North America, Australia, and New Zealand, wholly at the expense of the aboriginal inhabitants of those places. This, too, is the source of a great deal of contemporary liberal breast-beating.

Advising is sometimes just inviting someone to act on a reason he already has: giving him strategically useful information, encouraging his flagging spirits, making vivid what he wishes to forget. In that case no reasons are given. Sometimes, too, you find that your interlocutor has, as you'll put it, ‘no reason to do’ what you think he should do. You find you need to ‘give him’ a reason to do it. Here you have a choice between two strategies. You can attempt to influence him in a way that's at odds with the form of address distinctive of reasoning with him.

It is sometimes suggested that Descartes’ version of the so-called ontological ‘argument’ should be read not as a formal proof but as a seif-evident axiom, grasped by intuition. If correct, this Suggestion would enable us to answer finally one of the vexed questions of Cartesian scholarship, namely what relation holds between the ontological argument, as presented in the Fifth Meditation, and the causal argument of the Third Meditation. The ontological argument has the appearance of being an afterthought but, given the elegant and tightly ordered structure of the Meditations, this cannot be. Still, commentators have wondered why Descartes separates his theistic proofs in this way, and why the ontological argument emerges later in the ‘order of reasons.’ If the ontological ‘argument’ were intended as the report of an intuition, then these long-standing difficulties would be easily resolved. One could argue that rather than being an afterthought, it is the culmination of the meditator's efforts to achieve perfect knowledge (scientia) of God's existence.

This paper is a defense of traditional compatibilism. Traditional compatibilism is, roughly, the view that (a) free will is essential to moral responsibility, (b) free will requires alternative possibilities of action, or alternatives for short, and (c) moral responsibility is compatible with determinism. Traditional compatibilism is a version of the traditional theory of free will. According to the traditional theory, a person S performed an action a freely only if S could have done otherwise, that is, only if S had alternatives. The traditional theory is often contrasted with the source theory: S performed a freely only if S was the source of a (McKenna 2001; Pereboom 2003). One may adopt a combined view of free will that sanctions both the traditional and source theories (Kane 1996, 72-3; van Inwagen 1983). As I use the terms ‘source theorist’ and ‘traditional theorist,’ the former refers to folks who accept the source theory and reject the traditional theory; the latter refers to folks who accept the traditional theory whether or not they accept the source theory.

When the international Community recognizes political entities as states, it confers upon them the rights and powers of statehood. These include the right to territorial integrity, the right to noninterference in their internal affairs, the power to make treaties, and the right (subject to certain restrictions) to enforce legal rules on those within their territory. According to the justice-based account of recognition, political entities ought to be recognized as states if and only if they satisfy minimal requirements of internal and external justice. According to the pragmatic account, they ought to be recognized as states if and only if cooperating with them and giving them international support would be the best means of achieving peace and justice among and within them — that is, global peace and justice — whether or not they themselves currently satisfy minimal requirements of internal and external justice.

What place, if any, moral principles should or do have in moral life has been a longstanding question f or moral philosophy. For some, the proposition that moral philosophy should strive to articulate moral principles has been an article of faith. At least since Aristotle, however, there has been a rieh counter-tradition that questions the possibility or value of trying to capture morality in principled terms. In recent years, philosophers who question principled approaches to morality have argued under the banner of moral particularism. Particularists can be found in diverse areas of philosophical inquiry, and their positions and arguments are of broad interest. Despite its importance, a proper evaluation of particularism has been hindered both by the diversity of arguments employed to defend it, and, perhaps more significantly, by the diversity of positions that can fairly claim to be particularist.

If we were to look caref ully at recent commentary on Descartes's theories of ideas and Sensation, we would find that a large number of commentators hold that he believes the following:.

1. (1) Ideas are representational,

2. (2) Sensations are ideas,

3. (3) Sensations are not representational.

This is an inconsistent triad: any two of the above claims can be true together, but they cannot all be true together. The inconsistent triad can be avoided if we reject one of the claims. Some have argued that Descartes did not hold (l).1 Some have argued that he did not hold (3). I believe that Descartes held (1) and (3), and will argue that he did not hold (2).

Generally, any account of Cartesian Sensation at the very least must account for sensations in terms of the ontology. The account must say whether they are modes or not, and if modes, modes of what — mind, body, both, the union, and so on. Moreover, how sensations are cast in terms of the ontology must agree with how they are cast in terms of the epistemology.

Given that it seems uncontroversial that Socrates displays considerable contempt towards rhetoric in the Gorgias,the title of this paper might strike one as an oxymoron. Indeed, a reading of the text has more than once encouraged scholars to posit an Opposition between the elenctic procedures championed by Socrates and the rhetorical procedures of his interlocutors. At least three features have been highlighted that seem to indicate this contrast:

1. 1. the Socratic interest in short questions and answers versus his interlocutors’ use of long speeches (makrologia);

2. 2. the Socratic interest in truth regardless of the opinion of the many, the latter seeming an important concern of the rhetorician;

3. 3. the supposed Socratic appeal to the intellectual powers of the interlocutor, which is usually contrasted with the appeal to the emotions which is distinctive of rhetoric.

Life is so wretched that it would be impossible to endure were it not for the luminous beams of illusion that guide us through its darkest moments. Many argue, perhaps not to this degree (or with this much drama), that were it not for some modest illusions about the world and ourselves we would experience a serious decline in quality of life. On those not-so-good days, this claim strikes me as irresistible. How would I endure life and maintain my sanity if I had to embrace each and every disgusting and disheartening fact about the world? Perceiving the world in a way that is neither clear-eyed nor complete may not be without its advantages. But even if being mistaken about the world or self-deceived causes one to be healthier or more comfortable, it is worth asking whether there is something to be said against a life of this kind. Might there not be some knowledge about ourselves or the world that we ought to have?

1. 1) ‘“Be true to yourself!” and “Don't cave in!” express the value people place on [_]….’

2. 2) ‘… an important sense of [_] is being true to oneself.’

3. 3) ‘[_] encourages and protects people's general capacity to lead their lives out of a distinctive sense of their own character, a sense of what is important to and for them. ’

4. 4) ‘… to value [_] is to place value on an agent's acting from herreasons, whether they are good ones or not.’

Quiz: fill in the blanks. Here is a hint: two are autonomy and two are integrity. Can you sort out which ones are which? I suspect not, especially since the first two are nearly identical but have different answers. The third seems clearly to be integrity, at least given what philosophers such as Bernard Williams write about integrity: that it involves preserving one's own distinct character. However, the answer to 3) is autonomy. The fourth quotation brings to mind discussions about how autonomous agents can make bad choices, but we respect their autonomy by allowing them to do so. However, the answer to 4) is integrity.

One standard objection to familiar utilitarian consequentialism queries its troubling commitment to the maximization of overall value irrespective of distribution, for instance among the well and badly off. Call this ‘the objection from distribution.'

The simplest and most obvious alternative form of consequentialism deploys some sort of maximin principle. Maximin principles maximize the well-being of the worst off. Lexical maximin rules in particular, which are perhaps the simplest and most obvious subtype, maximize first the well-being of the worst-off, and then in case of ties among the worst-off, maximize the well-being of the second worst-off, and so forth. Maximin principles provide an obvious route to the unification of plausible concerns with maximization and with distributional equity.

The moral right to act in self-defense seems to be unproblematic: you are allowed to kill an aggressor if doing so is necessary for saving your own life. Indeed, it seems that from the moral Standpoint, acting in self-defense is doing the right thing. Thanks, however, to works by George Fletcher and Judith Thomson, it is now well known how unstable the moral basis of the right to self-defense is. We are in the dark with regard to one of the most basic problems raised by this right, namely: the problem of the innocent aggressor. The disturbing question is simple enough: Is a potential victim allowed to kill, in self-defense, a morally innocent aggressor?

Locke is often thought to have introduced the topic of personal identity into philosophy when, in the second edition of the Essay, he distinguished the person from both the human being and the soul. Each of these entities differs from the others with respect to their identity conditions, and so they must be ontologically distinct. In particular, Locke claimed, a person cannot survive total memory loss, although a human being or a soul can.

Externalism is the thesis that some propositional attitudes depend for their individuation on features of the thinker's (social and/or physical) environment. The doctrine of self-knowledge of thoughts is the thesis that for all thinkers S and occurrent thoughts that p, S has authoritative and non-empirical knowledge of her thought that p. A much-discussed question in the literature is whether these two doctrines are compatible. In this paper I attempt to respond to one argument for an incompatibilist conclusion, Boghossian's 1989 ‘Memory Argument.’

In 1693 William Molyneux put a question to John Locke:

The question became celebrated, attracting some of the foremost minds of the eighteenth Century and beyond. However, it is far from obvious what Molyneux's question is really about. What issue, or issues, of a more general and theoretical nature, does it raise? Since this is unclear, it is also unclear whether Molyneux's question still matters today. I defend a particular conception of what the question is about. If I am right, the question does indeed still matter.

In his book Practical Induction,Elijah Millgram mounts a powerful attack on instrumentalism. In particular, Millgram targets the instrumentalist claim that desires are by themselves reason-giving, that their reason-giving power is not grounded in any other independent fact. According to Millgram, desires, like beliefs, cannot license inferences (desires license inferences to conclusions about what we have reason to do; beliefs license inferences to other belief s and to conclusions about what we have reason to do) if they do not depend for their own justification on some prior mental states. Beliefs depend on prior beliefs and desires on feelings of pleasure and these in turn are grounded respectively in facts about the world and about desirability. If our desires would not depend in this way on other facts it would be possible for us to rationally desire what we want when we want; we could, as he puts it, ‘desire at will.'