My plan in this article is to begin by raising the question of the point of judgements of beauty, and then to examine Kant's account of beauty in the third Critique from the perspective opened up by that question. Having raised the question of the point, I will argue, first, that there is an implied answer to it in Kant's text, and, second, that the answer is ultimately unsatisfying in that it falsely assumes that there is a ‘need’, or ‘task’, or ‘purpose’, that we all necessarily share, to conceptualize all that encounters us in our experience, and fit it into one unified and comprehensive system. It is only against this assumption of our transcendental cognitive interest that Kant can so much as seem to have a real story to tell about where the value that we (‘disinterestedly’) claim for things in calling them ‘beautiful’ derives from. This, in effect, means that to the extent that Kant offers us any answer at all to the question of the point of judgements of beauty, that answer testifies to his general neglect of the question of the point of judgements. And my purpose is to draw attention to that neglect, and to begin to assess its significance for Kant's transcendental project in general and for his conception of beauty in particular.

Kant conceives of moral agents as autonomous, capable of motivating themselves to act on a self-given rule of reason, independently of – and even against – their inclinations. Moreover, Kant's moral theory tells agents to realize their autonomy, by striving to do what is right for its own sake. It is because of Kant's emphasis on autonomy that his notion of the highest good has been a topic of controversy. From Kant's time onward, commentators have suspected that the highest good, which promises virtuous agents happiness proportionate to their goodness, introduces heteronomy into morality. The standard response to this concern is that critics have misunderstood the relationship of the highest good to the agent's will: it is an object, not a spring, of moral action. This is a valid response to some articulations of the objection. But it does not adequately address the version that interests me: the charge that belief in God as the guarantor of happiness proportionate to virtue plays an inappropriate motivational role in Kant's moral theory. Kant appears to say that without belief in a God who will make the virtuous happy we would not be motivated to act rightly. This sort of claim seems to conflict with Kant's notion of moral agents as beings who are capable of doing the right thing just because it is right. If this conflict cannot be resolved, Kantians face a dilemma: either weaken the notion of autonomy, or (more likely) weaken the claims about the moral importance of faith in God.

The most prominent recent interpretations of Kantian ethics place rational nature at the centre of the theory: I must respect rational nature, whether in myself or in others, because rational nature has a special status as the source of all other values. It is not obvious what it is for something to be the source of value, nor whether rational nature could play this role, but until these issues are settled the coherence of Kantian ethics is in question. In this article I offer an explanation of what it is for rational nature to be the source of value, I show that this claim is an important element of Kant's moral theory, and I defend this conception of value.

The following remarks are intended to help clarify Kant's position on international right and, specifically, the so-called ‘right of war’. They are part of a more general study of Kant's politics; but I also make them here in the hope that Kant's view of international law (or right) can furnish us with some much-needed practical help and guidance. More specifically, I will try to show that Kant is less averse to the use of force, including resort to pre-emptive war, and far more attuned to possibilities for political catastrophe, than he is often taken to be. A greater appreciation for Kant's actual position can, I hope, make a small contribution toward mending the growing rift between so-called ‘Kantians’ who underrate the need for force, and self-styled ‘Hobbesians’ who underestimate the power of moral principle.

Emerging from the growing swell of recent literature concerning Kant's practical philosophy, one interpretation of his procedure for testing maxims has crested above others. The influential interpretation to which I refer believes that the categorical imperative guides a procedure that finds maxims impermissible when they cannot be universalized without producing a 'practical' contradiction. As a major proponent of the practical contradiction interpretation, Christine Korsgaard claims that, while there is textual support for this point of view, she is more concerned with developing a defensible interpretation of maxim testing for a ‘Kantian’ system of morality. Accordingly, one cannot simply attempt to evaluate such a theory solely by considering its various incongruities with Kant's specific claims and arguments. Instead, my evaluation of the practical contradiction interpretation will examine: (a) whether it is a procedure that is applicable to a full range of maxims; (b) whether it maintains a distinct advantage over the alternative readings; and (c) whether it is an internally coherent and consistent model for testing maxims. I propose, here, that regardless of the practical contradiction test's many advantages, it fails with regard to all three of these questions.

Even the most sympathetic readers of Kant's moral philosophy usually disagree with him about some aspect of his theory, or some particular moral judgement. His unqualified condemnation of lying in the essay ‘On a supposed right to lie from philanthropy’ is a classical case in question, as is his strong endorsement of retributive justice and the death penalty. A third prominent source of discontent are Kant's repeated verdicts on the moral status of non-human animals, or rather the lack thereof. For, despite the fact that his practical recommendations in this field are sensible and even progressive, he repeatedly insists that there are no direct duties to animals, that the well-being of animals is morally indifferent, in particular that we ought to treat animals decently solely for the sake of humanity. As a result, the foundations of his advice seem morally inadequate, even offensive.