Experiments are actions, performed in order to gain information. Like other acts, there are virtues of performing them well. I discuss one virtue of experimentation, that of knowing how to trade its information-gaining potential against other goods.

I survey the previous 20 years work on the nature of folk psychology, with particular emphasis on the original debate between theory theorists and simulation theorists, and the positions that have emerged from this debate.

I explore how considerations about psychological damage connect with moral theories.

I consider Glimcher's claim to have given an account of mental functioning that is at once neurological and decision-theoretical. I am skeptical, but remark on some good ideas of Glimcher's.

This is a reply to de Sousa's 'Emotional Truth', in which he argues that emotions can be objective, as propositional truths are. I say that it is better to distinguish between truth and accuracy, and agree with de Sousa to the extent of arguing that emotions can be more or less accurate, that is, based on the facts as they are.

I discuss Bermudez' minimalist approach to self-consciousness approvingly, connecting it with other positions in philosophy and trying to separate it from ideas about non-conceptual content.

This is a chapter about changing the desires of others. People often have to coordinate their actions in order to get what they want. The need for coordination produces a practical problem and a philosophical problem. The difference between the problems is that in dealing with the practical one he/she does not have to get hung up about rationality. Different coordination problems generalize in different ways to more than two people or more than two actions. The prisoner's dilemma has received (...) more attention than these other situations because it has seemed to present the most intractable problems. If one can show how agents faced with prisoner's dilemmas can find their way to cooperation, then it will no longer seem implausible that people pursuing their individual good can achieve stable and mutually satisfactory social arrangements. (shrink)

This chapter describes a way of thinking, really a family of ways of thinking, which allows incomparables to be left incomparable. In the chapter, the patterns of decision making are very ordinary and unsurprising. But the point is to show that people do have ways of thinking that do not require them to balance the unbalanceable, and to begin to develop a vocabulary that helps reveal how they do this. The chapter discusses the following five dilemma‐managing principles: the rain‐check principle; (...) the anti‐compromise principle; compensation; the looking back principle; and unequal opportunities. It also considers how people think through some moral non‐dilemmas. That will help them to see what is going on in some non‐moral dilemmas. The given example concerns broken promises. Things get more complicated when the choice is not between two simple possibilities but a series, among some of which one has preferences. The chapter explains this with another trivial example. (shrink)

A good decision is one that leads to people's getting what they want. Luck plays a smaller role if they ask what makes a good decision‐making method or policy. This chapter discusses how often people will get more of what they want if their decisions are formed in this way, than they would have had they reasoned differently. It also describes the advantages or disadvantages of the dilemma‐managing strategies, and presents a systematic view of the strategies (partition‐shifting strategies, spreading strategies, (...) and revaluing strategies), with an emphasis on how to evaluate them. Different decisions involve different partitions. The choice of a suitable partition is one of the secret skills of decision‐making. A good partition should reveal the important factors that can affect the outcomes of the acts being considered, in such a way that these outcomes can easily be compared. (shrink)

To see some of the ways of changing desires begin with a comparison with the rather different case of belief. In the case of belief there are 'rational' ways of changing the opinions, by considering arguments and evidence, and 'non‐rational' ones, such as being hypnotized or joining a religious sect. This chapter discusses cases in which someone wants to change their desires. There is then a conflict between their second order desires and their simple, first order, desires. The chapter also (...) describes how to resolve a conflict between first and second order desires. In evaluating the lives that would follow from possible changes in one's desires one can take account of the pattern as well as the amount or variety of desires that are satisfied. This is inevitable, really, since one's second order as well as one's first order desires have to come under the scope of the shift. (shrink)

Family life and one's career are incomparable values for him/her. The whole topic of incomparability of desires is veiled in confusion and controversy. Some people deny that there are any incomparable desires. This chapter explains meaning of incomparability, discusses incomparability as a fact of life that many of the desires are incomparable, and also examines why incomparability makes an enormous difference to decision‐making what patterns of incomparability the desires exhibit. The first dimension of incomparability is depth: how much thought and (...) how many comparisons with other wants the inability to choose will survive. Another dimension is generality, whether the incomparability concerns just individual wants or also the values that usually underlie them. The significance of some patterns of incomparability becomes clearer if one add another ingredient to the brew: the influence of beliefs on desires. The chapter considers an example to illustrate this influence. (shrink)

People need strategies, to tell them either how to balance the preservation of life against the avoidance of pain or how to allocate the resources without having to balance them. This chapter describes a non‐balancing strategy. This strategy could be a helpful part of a society's decision‐making resources. The chapter also gives many non‐medical cases which present problems which are similar in one way or another. In all these cases the tension is between the preservation of life and various kinds (...) of welfare. The famine relief case could have been described also in terms of a slightly different tension, between avoiding misery as well as death and promoting only relatively trivial forms of welfare. The chapter suggests a revaluing of the aversion to death. In preventing a death one is preserving what one might call the fullness and the fillability of life. (shrink)

This chapter describes just one of the many attributes that a worthwhile life can have, one which connects both with the experience of the satisfyingness of life and with the dilemma‐managing strategies. Several of the dilemma‐managing strategies link choices to the overall pattern of the decision‐maker's life. All of these strategies resolve dilemmas by relating the incomparable desires that produce them to more nearly comparable preferences for kinds of lives. These strategies could be crudely summarized as: take the option which (...) will give him/her the better life. Or rather, they could be summarized this way if one accepts that lives are good when they conform to plans. In the chapter, the author argues that the sense of the satisfyingness of one's life need not come from any plan or pattern to it. In all of his examples, life has been organized by its connection with a single object of concern. (shrink)

The difficulty of a dilemma is often due to the pattern of one's desires: the way in which your wants for different things are related to one another. When one sees how many patterns desires can take one begins to appreciate the real difficulty of decision making. But one also begins to see that dilemmas are not all unfortunate and insoluble traps. There are good and not so good strategies for dealing with them. In dealing with the resulting dilemmas the (...) strategy may find ways of reducing them to more comparable desires, or it may not. Desires of each kind are often fairly easy to compare among themselves. Qualified trumps are a form of incomparable desire. This chapter gives simpler examples of this desire. In some cases, it is much less obvious how a conflict between first and second order desires should be resolved. The chapter discusses such case. (shrink)

This chapter presents a model of risk‐taking behaviour. That is, it describes some simpler patterns of preference than real people ever have, and then discusses some strategies that would make sense for people with these simple preferences when faced with choices between risky options. These strategies can also make sense for people, with the more complicated preferences. The chapter also discusses some more detailed assumptions about snobs' preferences. There are several ways in which the Snobs can find their way through (...) risky situations. The chapter considers two. The first is, in effect, to refuse to reason probabilistically. Given every risky prospect they can decide what the most likely outcome is, equate it to a certainty of that outcome, and choose accordingly. In more complex situations something closer to real probabilistic reasoning will be needed. And this is the second way in which preferences such as those of the snobs can come to terms with risk. (shrink)

Family life and one's career are incomparable values for him/her. The whole topic of incomparability of desires is veiled in confusion and controversy. Some people deny that there are any incomparable desires. This chapter explains meaning of incomparability, discusses incomparability as a fact of life that many of the desires are incomparable, and also examines why incomparability makes an enormous difference to decision‐making what patterns of incomparability the desires exhibit. The first dimension of incomparability is depth: how much thought and (...) how many comparisons with other wants the inability to choose will survive. Another dimension is generality, whether the incomparability concerns just individual wants or also the values that usually underlie them. The significance of some patterns of incomparability becomes clearer if one add another ingredient to the brew: the influence of beliefs on desires. The chapter considers an example to illustrate this influence. (shrink)

Decision making comes under pressure when the stakes are high and the information is imperfect. That is risk. Most of the risks can be most easily presented in terms of tensions between the recommendations of a simple theory and the complex reactions. The theory is the standard philosophers' and economists' account of rationality in the face of risk, in terms of expected utility, and the cases derive mostly from the intuitive sense many people have had that there is something wrong (...) with the theory. This chapter aims to give a diagnosis of what underlies these intuitions. It also presents an extreme example bringing out one aspect of risk‐aversion. It further considers a family of related examples which bring out both the force of the EU rule and some of the problems with it. An appeal of EU lies in its connections with the intuitive 'grammar' of risk taking. (shrink)

This chapter contrasts moral motivation, as a problematic thing, with the apparently straightforward motives of self‐interest. It also contrasts moral dilemmas, in which one has to find an acceptable action in the midst of conflicting responsibilities and obligations, with practical or prudential dilemmas, in which the problem is getting as much as he/she can of what he/she want. The problem is that these contrasts are all different. They cut in different directions. For any two of the contrasts there are situations (...) which link the 'moral' side according to one contrast with the 'non‐moral' or merely self‐interested side according to the other. Thus in the case of the ageing addict self‐interest as getting what you want and self‐interest as getting a better life conflict. The chapter also gives the example that combines the plots of two famous novels (George Eliot's Silas Marner, and Balzac's novel Le Pe're Goriot), each clearly making a quasi‐moral point. (shrink)

This chapter discusses four ways in which the question of the price of a choice can arise: one trivial, one about risk, one awful, and one moral. It is very hard to compare the awfulness of a choice to the desirability or undesirability of the things one is choosing between. The undesirability of having to choose between loyalty to the child and opposition to terrorism seems to be incomparable both to the loyalty and to the opposition. The final decision is (...) made with the valuation one would use if forced to make a choice between all the options, and along the way to this final decision one discards less trusted valuations. The chapter also considers agenda‐manipulating strategies. They deal with a decision‐making situation by structuring the comparisons that are to be made in order to think it through. Agenda‐manipulation will arise naturally in many dilemma‐managing strategies. (shrink)

I assess Churchland's views on folk psychology and conceptual thinking, with particular emphasis on the connection between these topics.

I argue that general constraints on how humans think about humans produce universal features of the concept of mind. Some of these constraints determine how we imagine other people's thinking and action through our own. I formulate this in opposition to what I call the "theory theory". I believe this was the first use of this terminology, and this work was an early version of what has come to be called the simulation theory.

This is exciting stuff. Philosophers have long explored the structure of human concepts from the inside, by manipulating their skills as users of those concepts. And since Quine most reasonable philosophers have accepted that the structure is a contingent matter – we or not too different creatures could have thought differently – which in principle can be..

I discuss how simulating another agent can be useful in some game-theoretical situations, particularly iterated games such as the centipede game.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 12.3 (2005) 257-259 [Access article in PDF] Atrocity, Banality, Self-Deception Adam Morton Keywords evil, self-deception, banality, atrocity, motivation When talking about evil we must make a fundamental choice about how we are to use the term. We may use it as half of the contrast "good versus evil," in which case it covers everything that is not good. That includes moral incompetence, lack (...) of imagination, willingness to follow orders, overreactions, and a host of other reasons why people who do not have personalities that we would call evil do things that are wrong, often very wrong. Call this the weak reading of evil: evil as wrongdoing. Or we may use it with the meaning suggested by "evil person," "really evil act," "the evil lurking in all of us," and other such idioms. If we do this, we focus on a particular class of actions, and the motives and people that produce them, that arouse a particular moral revulsion in us. Call this the strong reading of evil: evil as atrocity (for more on this contrast see Morton [2004] and Card [2002]).Kubarych, following Peck, thinks of evil in the strong way. Most of the time at any rate: Some of the philosophers, such as Kant, that he draws on are thinking of evil in the weak way, and some of his quotations are from the German, where good/bad/evil distinctions are not drawn in the same way as in English. He explores a general explanation of evil that seems to be targeted at the psychology of extremely abhorrent actions. But, I argue, his account is in danger of collapse in either of two directions. Depending on how we interpret Kubarych's account, it could turn out that it describes all wrongdoing as evil, or, making some different choices, it could turn out that there are no really evil people.The strong reading of evil is definitely the most interesting and potentially fruitful. After all, we have no shortage of satisfying explanations of why people lie to get out of unwelcome appointments, steal to support their children or their drug habits, or defraud investors to become rich. But we do feel deeply puzzled by those who commit torture, serial murder, or genocide. We ask of these people not so much "Why did he do it?" as "How could he do it?" We feel the need of a philosophical or psychological theory that can give us even a slight handle of these people and their deeds. There are two risks associated with the project of explaining atrocity, though. The first is the risk of accepting unsatisfactory accounts, just because they purport to explain what we desperately want to understand. The second is the risk of supposing that there is a single explanation when the causes of the phenomenon are in fact too varied. On other topics these two risks have often combined to make people believe what seem to us now to be evident falsehoods. Humans have often for example wanted to know the causes of disease, and as a result have accepted blanket explanations, in terms of [End Page 257] evil spirits or lack of faith, that seem ludicrous to us now that we have a better grasp of the variety of factors that can cause our bodies to misfunction. So before asking naively "Why and how can people do these awful things?" we should ask "Is there a deeper causal unity here, beyond the fact that we react to these acts with horror?"My suspicion is that there is not much unity, that it is asking too much to want a common profile to the psychology of serial killers, or of proponents of genocide, let alone a profile that applies across these and other categories. What we can do, I believe, is describe our concept of evil in such a way that we can leave some parameters to be filled in by a large variety of objective psychological factors. Even this runs the risk that the really relevant factors cannot be forced into the role that the philosophical account requires. In... (shrink)

I discuss a large number of emotions that are relevant to performance at epistemic tasks. My central concern is the possibility that it is not the emotions that are most relevant to success of these tasks but associated virtues. I present cases in which it does seem to be the emotions rather than the virtues that are doing the work. I end of the paper by mentioning the connections between desirable and undesirable epistemic emotions.

The claim of this paper is that the everyday functions of knowledge make most sense if we see knowledge as contrastive. That is, we can best understand how the concept does what it does by thinking in terms of a relation “a knows that p rather than q.” There is always a contrast with an alternative. Contrastive interpretations of knowledge, and objections to them, have become fairly common in recent philosophy. The version defended here is fairly mild in that there (...) is no suggestion that we cannot think in terms of a simpler not explicitly contrastive relation “a knows that p.” Some, for instance Schaffer (2005) and Karjalainen and Morton (2003), have hinted that this stronger possibility may be right. But all that I am arguing now is that facts that are easily expressed in contrastive terms are vital to understanding why we need the concept of knowledge. In a piece that is in some ways a companion to this one ("Contrastivism" in Duncan Pritchard and Sven Bernecker, eds. The Routledge Companion to Epistemology. Routledge 2010, 513-522), I give a general survey of theories of contrastive knowledge and the differences between them. (shrink)

I argue that on an understanding of imagination that relates it to an individual's environment rather than her mental contents imagination is essential to emotion, and brings together affective, cognitive, and representational aspects to emotion. My examples focus on morally important emotions, especially retrospective emotions such as shame, guilt, and remorse, which require that one imagine points of view on one's own actions. PUBLISHER'S BLURB: Recent years have seen an enormous amount of philosophical research into the emotions and the imagination, (...) but as yet little work has been done to connect the two. In his engaging and highly original new book, Adam Morton shows that all emotions require some form of imagination and goes on to fully explore the link between these two important concepts both within philosophy and in everyday life. We may take it for granted that complex emotions, such as hope and resentment, require a rich thinking and an engagement with the imagination, but Morton shows how more basic and responsive emotions such as fear and anger also require us to take account of possibilities and opportunities beyond the immediate situation. Interweaving a powerful tapestry of subtle argument with vivid detail, the book highlights that many emotions, more than we tend to suppose, require us to imagine a situation from a particular point of view and that this in itself can be the source of further emotional feeling. Morton goes on to demonstrate the important role that emotions play in our moral lives, throwing light on emotions such as self-respect, disapproval, and remorse, and the price we pay for having them. He explores the intricate nature of moral emotions and the challenges we face when integrating our thinking on morality and the emotions. This compelling and thought-provoking new book challenges many assumptions about the nature of emotion and imagination and will appeal to anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the role that these concepts play in our lives. The book also has far reaching implications that will spark debate amongst scholars and students for some time to come. (shrink)

An account of the virtues of limitation management: intellectual virtues of adapting to the fact that we cannot solve many of the problems that we can describe. I argue that the best response to many problems depends not on the most rationally promising solution, but on the most likely route to success. I argue against techniques that assume that one will fulfil ones intentions, and distinguish between failures of rationality and failures of intelligence. I describe the trap of supposing that (...) one will be capable of following the plan that would best exploit ones limited resources. (shrink)

Abstract In criticising the Italian idealist philosopher Benedetto Croce ? described by Eric Hobsbawm as the first ?post?Marxist? ? Antonio Gramsci elaborated a distinct theory of history. For Gramsci, philosophers such as Croce developed a subjective account of history based on the progression of philosophical thought rather than problems posed by historical development. This essay develops a ?double reading? of Gramsci. First, it presents an overview of a dominant post?Marxist reading of Gramsci?s approach to historical materialism, which constructs a closed (...) and particularistic understanding of his theory of history. Second, it offers a reading that exposes and unsettles problems within post?Marxism by demonstrating how Gramsci?s focus on changes in social relations threatens the assumptions about both traditional idealism and materialism. It is this theory of history that throws into relief certain features necessary to understanding history as more than just a completely contingent system of articulatory practices. The method of a double reading therefore affords insight into the internal tensions and questionable assumptions of history understood as an association of discourses (first reading). It also avoids developing an account that relies on an ?extrinsic history? of objective forces by combining an appreciation of ethico?political principles alongside economic factors within the struggle over hegemony relevant to contemporary global political economy (second reading). (shrink)

I discussed the ways in which folk psychology is influenced by the need for small-scale cooperation between people. I argue that considerations about cooperation and mutual benefit can be found in the everyday concepts of belief, desire, and motivation. I describe what I call "solution thinking", where a person anticipates another person's actions by first determining the solution to the cooperative problem that the person faces and then reasoning backwards to a prediction of individual action.

Taking literally the concept of emotional truth requires breaking the monopoly on truth of belief-like states. To this end, I look to perceptions for a model of non-propositional states that might be true or false, and to desires for a model of propositional attitudes the norm of which is other than the semantic satisfaction of their propositional object. Those models inspire a conception of generic truth, which can admit of degrees for analogue representations such as emotions; belief-like states, by contrast, (...) are digital representations. I argue that the gravest problem-objectivity-is not insurmountable. /// [Adam Morton] It is accuracy rather than truth itself that is valuable. Emotional truth is a dubious though attractive notion, but emotional accuracy is much easier to make sense of. My approach to accuracy goes via an account of what makes a story accurate. Stories can be accurate but not true, and emotions can be accurate whether or not they are true. The capacity for emotional accuracy, for emotions that fit a person's situation, is an aspect of emotional intelligence, which is as important an aspect of rational human agency as the intelligent formation of beliefs and desires. (shrink)

I argue that the contrast between models and theories is important for public policy issues. I focus especially on the way a mathematical model explains just one aspect of the data.

(for Adam Morton's half) I argue that if we take the values of persons to be ordered in a way that allows incomparability, then the problems Broome raises have easy solutions. In particular we can maintain that creating people is morally neutral while killing them has a negative value.

I relate plural quantification, and predicate logic where predicates do not need a fixed number of argument places, to the part-whole relation. For more on these themes see later work by Boolos, Lewis, and Oliver & Smiley.

This paper begins with a discussion the role of less-than-admirable epistemic emotions in our respectable, indeed admirable inquiries: nosiness, obsessiveness, wishful thinking, denial, partisanship. The explanation for their desirable effect is Mandevillian: because of the division of epistemic labour individual epistemic vices can lead to shared knowledge. In fact it is sometimes essential to it.

I argue that folk psychology does not serve the purpose of facilitating prediction of others' behaviour but if facilitating cooperative action. (See my subsequent book *The Importance of Being Understood*.