The first chapter traces the notion of “art for art’s sake” to the evolutionary theories of Charles Darwin and Herbert Spencer, who first engaged with questions of aesthetics in the early 1850s. In their attempts to account for the evolution of the sense of beauty – an adaptation with no obvious survival value – both writers exempted a wide swath of aesthetic activities from the natural laws of scarcity and struggle that governed other areas of biological life. This chapter argues that their evolutionary explanations for beauty (the theories of sexual selection and “play," respectively) thus laid the scientific groundwork for later conceptions of aesthetic experience as escapist, salutary, and therefore beneficial for the species. The chapter concludes with an analysis of selected literary works by Algernon Charles Swinburne, Thomas Hardy, and George Meredith, whose respective corpuses illustrate the diffuse impact of these ideas on literary evocations of the beautiful.

In this chapter, we are interested in how AI may enhance our well-being – or do the opposite. A defintion of well-being and promotion of core vlaues will be discussed. It will then survey AI technologies and assess whether they enhance or diminish human well-being, using the different meanings of well-being

Socrates’ claim that he is engaged in a cooperative inquiry (506e3-5) may surprise readers of the dialogue. In particular, some readers take Callicles to be a hostile interlocutor; his views about philosophy, ethics, and politics seem to be designed to give us a vivid picture of everything that Socrates rejects and of the whole outlook that vehemently rejects Socrates. Socrates, however, attributes the success of his argument to cooperation between himself and Callicles; he implies that Callicles fulfils the promise that Socrates saw in him when he described him as the ideal interlocutor. Evidence drawn from Thucydides shows that Callicles holds the views of an enlightened (in his view) Periclean supporter of democracy. Socrates exposes a conflict between the acceptance of hedonism and the recognition of non-instrumental goods that belong to this Periclean outlook. Hedonism is fairly attributed to Callicles, and Callicles acknowledges it. Since Callicles is willing to make the effort to ‘view himself correctly’, he recognizes the fairness of Socrates’ argument, and accepts its consequences. Despite appearances, he participates in the cooperative inquiry that leads to Socrates’ conclusion.

This chapter presents and assesses Nietzsche’s critique of pessimism in terms of how its hedonic axiology has levelling-down effects on the perfectionist values he cared most deeply about, namely, creativity and achievement. Starting from Nietzsche’s repeated claims that suffering is in some way extrinsically tied to ‘greatness’, the chapter considers Nietzschean arguments for its value through an analysis of the role of ‘admiration’ and the doctrine of will to power. The philosophical force of these ideas is then considered in light of Nietzsche’s account of the relationship between human flourishing and a naturalistic psychology. Seeking to improve upon dominant views in the secondary literature, the chapter then investigates the specific extrinsic relation Nietzsche takes there to be between suffering and greatness, arguing that an analysis of his ‘pessimism of strength’ suggests that it ought to be construed as constitutive rather than instrumental. The chapter ends by attempting to provide a solution to the ‘scope problem’ raised in Chapter 5.

This chapter reconsiders the significance of The Beautiful and Damned (1922) to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s development as a writer and his place in American modernist literature. This second novel occupies a minor position in the Fitzgerald canon and is often regarded as a move away from his experimentations with romanticism, aestheticism, and decadence to naturalism. By contrast, this chapter argues that the novel remains committed to fin-de-siècle theories of aesthetic hedonism propounded by Walter Pater and Oscar Wilde in formal, thematic, and intellectual terms and brings them into productive tension with naturalism. The Beautiful and Damned is informed by Paterean theories of perception and hedonism in its preoccupation with the brevity of life, the fragility of beauty, and the necessity of cultivating a heightened mode of perception and consciousness. Naturalism, meanwhile, is deployed strategically as in the narrative to expose the naïve and illusory nature of the aesthetic hedonism of its protagonists. This chapter further argues that Fitzgerald’s reliance on fin-de-siècle tropes should not be understood as anomalous or derivative but, rather, that it situates The Beautiful and Damned in a broader “new decadent” literary movement within American modernism.

Arete of Cyrene was daughter and disciple of the founder of the Cyrenaic school and mother and teacher of the figure who codified its principles. Our sources emphasize her as a link in the intellectual chain connecting the school it its Socratic roots, to the detriment of preserving her own philosophical ideas. In this chapter, I make a case for her philosophical contribution to the Cyrenaics, as revealed in a careful reading of the few sources we have. I follow this with methodological reflections on how we might access a figure like Arete. I argue that this task requires and licenses the adoption of severed methodological strategies related to an added open-mindedness to source material. I reflect on how these methodological points contribute to a wider project of recovering the thought of marginalized figures.

This chapter investigates ancient accounts of women Epicureans and considers how critics of Epicureanism attempted to undermine hedonism by sexualizing their accounts of the school’s women. The misogyny directed at women Epicureans was noteworthy insofar as its primary goal seems not to have been to undermine the women themselves but rather to undermine the school’s main ethical tenets; in other words, anti-hedonists used misogyny as a tool for philosophical criticism. The chapter aims to show that, despite the scarcity of extant philosophical works by Epicurean women, there is still much to be gained from studying the extant accounts of their activities and relationships: we stand to deepen our understanding of the place of women in the school, particularly our knowledge of how they were viewed by other members, as well as our understanding of the polemical tactics employed by ancient critics of Epicurean hedonism.

Value is commonly divided into the intrinsic – what is good (or bad) “in itself” – and the instrumental, what is valuable as a means. This chapter describes two kinds of “value in itself.” The first comprises experiences of certain rewarding kinds; the second comprises objects of experience having intrinsic properties in virtue of which these objects can be central in intrinsically valuable experiences. This threefold conception – of intrinsic, inherent, and instrumental values – is explained, illustrated, and enhanced by accommodating contributory value, yielding a multi-dimensional value theory. Hedonism is shown to be more plausible than generally realized but also too narrow. In showing this, the valuational pluralism of the chapter is extended to include intrinsic moral value as a distinct kind, and the organic character of value, inherent as well as intrinsic, is illustrated and clarified; and the organicity of inherent value is shown also to apply to reasons for action.

This chapter examines two versions of hedonist theories of the life worth living, one rather pessimistic, adopted by the Cyrenaics, particularly Hegesias, another more optimistic, adopted by the Epicureans. Both these approaches tend to diminish the gap between the best possible life and a life at least barely worth living, though they do so in converse directions. According to Hegesias, the best possible life falls to the level of a life just barely worth living, that is, a life in which there is no more pain than pleasure. According to the Epicureans, the threshold of a life at least barely worth living is raised to the proximity of the best possible life. A happy life, that is, a life of pleasure, must be a philosophical life, since only philosophy can guarantee freedom from disturbance. But freedom from disturbance is also required for a life worth living, so that a life is not worth living unless it is guided by philosophy, with the important caveat that a progress in philosophy, or the promise of such a progress, is sufficient for a worthwhile life.

This chapter claims that wild animals are morally considerable. Because nonhuman animals are sentient, they have a well-being of their own – a necessary and sufficient condition for having moral consideration. It further claims that this is the case independently of the theory of well-being one might endorse. It then argues that nonhuman interests in not suffering are morally relevant and that equal instances of suffering should be equally considered, irrespective of species membership. It follows that our reasons to prevent or alleviate nonhuman suffering are as strong as our reasons to prevent equal instances of human suffering. Finally, it argues for a conditional claim: If death is bad at all, then under certain theoretical assumptions, death is also bad for nonhuman animals and, sometimes, it may be comparatively worse than for human beings. If so, the nonhuman interest in continuing to live gives us additional reasons to act on behalf of wild animals, by preventing them from dying.

Bernard Reginster provides a different perspective on some of these themes, deepening our understanding of Schopenhauer's pessimism. This is rooted in the idea that there is something systematically delusive about desire, since fulfilling our desires does not give the lasting satisfaction we would want. But Schopenhauer holds out the possibility that we can detach from our desires through resignation. How is such detachment possible?Reginster confronts the same problem we saw in Chapter 1, that the act of denial of the will cannot itself be an act of will; but he looks to a solution Janaway rejected, namely, Schopenhauer’s appeal to a secularized version of the Christian concept of grace. In probing the structure of resignation, Reginster argues that it must involve some “incentive” in the form of cognitive insight into “the will's inner conflict and its essential nothingness,” (WWR 1, 68, 424–470) which leads one to voluntary asceticism, that is, mortification of the will, which in turn leads to resignation. He shows that Schopenhauer provides two mechanisms for this, plausible by the standards of contemporary psychology: hedonic adaptation (i.e. “getting used to” deprivation) and physical weakening of the body, which, as objectified will, weakens the will.

This chapter argues that the emergence of Krautrock can only be understood against the background of the specific mixture of national and international impulses that shaped the West German musical scene in the late 1960s and early 1970s. What is striking is a high degree of politicisation that resulted, among other things, from the Nazi past and the position of the divided country at the interface of the Cold War. It fuelled a particularly radical student movement and at the same time legitimised a fundamental critique of the culture industry. Combined with the musical impulses from United States and Britain, this gave rise to very unique musical forms that seemed to counter the international mainstream with something entirely new.

Chapter 5 focuses on the elusive boundary between the lazy and the industrious in the post-1908 Young Turk era. In this tumultuous period, the Ottoman culture producers employed the concepts of work and laziness to further develop the exclusionary language characteristic of the culture of productivity against their rivals. Surveying political pamphlets, journals, memoirs, and the daily press, this chapter shows how various ideological camps entered into a cultural struggle over who should be regarded as lazy and useless based on a putative association with “super Westernization” or with “anti-progressivism.” In the relatively open political atmosphere immediately following the 1908 revolution, the polemics between various political agents, usually dubbed “Westernists” and “Islamists,” signalled a vital debate on the ideal citizen required by the nation. Their views of these issues diverged greatly, as did the question of who should be labeled lazy and unproductive. Such labels marshaled the exclusionary language that has been in development, revealing a variety of models of reform in the public sphere and how each one regarded the other as the cause of laziness.

This chapter uses Aristotle’s account in the Nicomachean Ethics to reconstruct Eudoxus’ argument for the thesis that pleasure is the good. He sets out and explains Eudoxus’s argument from universal pursuit: pleasure must be the good because all animals pursue pleasure in all natural and fitting choices. Eudoxus’ naturalism is an important background assumption here. He assumes that each animal, by nature, successfully chooses in all situations what is good for itself. This allows him to move from an observation about the universal pursuit of pleasure to the claim that pleasure is a feature of all natural and good choices. The pleasure that features in such choices is overall pleasure. Thus, Eudoxus can allow that animals sometimes naturally choose things that are painful, provided that what they choose contains more pleasure than pain overall. Aufderheide ends by suggesting how Eudoxus might defend the claim that pleasure is not merely a good, but moreover the good. This is not to claim that pleasure is the only thing that is good, but rather that pleasure plays a unique role in relation to choice: it is the only thing that features in all natural and good choices as a good.