ABSTRACT:This essay attempts to provide a useful research agenda for researchers in both strategic managementandbusiness ethics. We motivate this agenda by suggesting that the two fields started with similar interests, diverged, and are beginning to converge again. We then identify several streams that hold particular promise for developing our understanding of the relationship between strategy and ethics: stakeholder theory, managerial discretion, behavioral strategy, strategy as practice, and environmental sustainability.

Leading philosopher of religion D. Z. Phillips argues that intellectuals need not see their task as being for or against religion, but as one of understanding it. What stands in the way of this task are certain methodological assumptions about what enquiry into religion must be. Beginning with Bernard Williams on Greek gods, Phillips goes on to examine these assumptions in the work of Hume, Feuerbach, Marx, Frazer, Tylor, Marett, Freud, Durkheim, Le;vy-Bruhl, Berger and Winch. The result exposes (...) confusion, but also gives logical space to religious belief without advocating personal acceptance of that belief, and shows how the academic study of religion may return to the contemplative task of doing conceptual justice to the world. Religion and the Hermeneutics of Contemplation extends in important ways D. Z. Phillips' seminal 1976 book Religion Without Explanation. It will be of interest to scholars and students of philosophy, anthropology, sociology and theology. (shrink)

Introduces students to theories that have stood the test of time and those that have provided the historical foundation for the best of contemporary educational theory and practice.

One of the chief problems facing interpreters of Hume's philosophy is what I shall call the integration problem. It is a global problem inasmuch as it casts a shadow on every component of his philosophy, but does not directly affect how we interpret their details. The integration problem arises at the end of Book I of A Treatise of Human Nature, where Hume seemed to acknowledge that his account of human understanding, his logic, leads directly to total skepticism regarding both (...) everyday beliefs and abstruse thought. Nonetheless, he neither reconsidered and repudiated this virulent skepticism nor aborted and disowned his investigation of human nature, the project announced in the Introduction to the Treatise. Instead, he continues with Books II and III, neither of which dwells on or even acknowledges the skepticism with which Book I concludes. The resulting puzzle is not just about his decision to publish the three books as one work, since Hume appears paradoxically to endorse the triumph of skepticism and, yet, continue his pursuit of just the kind of knowledge the triumph of skepticism would entirely preclude. How, one is led to ask, can Hume consistently integrate the destructive skepticism of Book I with the constructive project of explaining and understanding human nature? It is not surprising that a wide range of proposals have been put forward by Hume scholars in response to this question. The crux of every such proposal is specifying how the skepticism of Book I is to be regarded. Is it genuine, a mere facade, or something in between? (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume on the Idea of Existence1 Phillip D. Cummins One, the primary, aim of this paper is to understand an argument Hume employed to defend his contention that there is no special or distinctidea ofexistence. This contention he expressedvariouslyin the following passage: The idea ofexistence, then, is the very same with the idea of what we conceive tobe existent. To reflect on any thing simply, and to reflect on (...) it as existent, are nothing different from each other. That idea, when conjoin'd with the idea of any object, makes no addition to it. Whatever we conceive, we conceive to be existent. Any idea we please to form is the idea ofa being; and the idea of a being is any idea we please to form.2 My secondary aim is to understand what the quoted claim amounts to as a characterization of the idea of existence. I am among those who have serious difficulty understanding what precisely Hume is here claiming. Specifically, I am not sure how, if at all, his position on the idea ofexistence fits with other elements ofhis theory ofthought.3 For example, earlier in the Treatise, in "OfAbstract Ideas," Hume argued that under suitable conditions of habituation and linguistic competence, a single simple4 idea could be the idea ofboth a particular object, a line drawn on a particular sheet ofpaper, and a type ofobject, line in general (T 20-24). Further, on the basis of appropriate comparisons, a single simple idea can also be the idea oftwo different quaUties, purple and extended, for example (T 24-25, 34). The former claim is the positive component ofHume's account ofabstract thinking; the latter is the positive component of his position on distinctions of reason. Hume goes out ofhis way to distinguish his position on the idea of existence from his position on distinctions of reason (T 67). As for how it differs, ifat all, from his position on abstract ideas, a matter by no means obvious, Hume says nothing at all. His silence does not preclude speculation on the subject—on the contrary, it makes such speculation unavoidable—but it does give special importance to his brief and puzzhng proof that there is no special or distinct idea of existence. Volume XVII Number 1 61 PHILLIP D. CUMMINS I. Hume's Argument In making his case that we have no distinct idea of existence Hume first insists that we have an idea of existence, appealing to what he regards as an undeniable matter of psychological fact. He writes, There is no impression nor idea ofany kind, ofwhich we have anyconsciousness or memory, thatis not conceiVd as existent; and 'tis evident, that from this consciousness the most perfect idea and assurance ofbeing is deriv'd. (T 66) The argument seems to comprise the following propositions: attending to consciousness and memory reveals that all the perceptions we experience or remember are believed to exist; one cannot beUeve in the existence of something unless one has an idea of existence; therefore, there is an idea ofexistence (being) which in some way is derived from consciousness and memory. Hume next formulates what he calls a dilemma. From hence we may form a dilemma, the most clear and conclusive that can be imagin'd, viz. that since we never remember any idea or impression without attributing existence toit, the idea ofexistence must eitherbe deriv'd from a distinct impression, conjoin'd with every perception or object ofour thought, or must be the very same with the idea of the perception or object. (T 66) The alternatives seem clear: either, in believing in the past existence of, say, a blue spot once seen, one has two ideas, one of the blue spot and a different one of existence, or one has only one idea, which somehow is both the idea of the spot and the idea ofexistence. What is not immediately obvious is why Hume speaks ofa dilemma. From the supposed psychological fact (we never remember any idea or impression without attributing existence to it) and its corollary (we have an idea ofexistence) Hume develops a disjunction (either the idea ofexistence is derived from a distinct impression conjoined with every perception, or... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXI, Number 1, April 1995, pp. 47-55 Hume as Dualist and Anti-Dualist PHILLIP D. CUMMINS Lome Falkenstein's recognition in "Hume and Reid on the Simplicity of the Soul" of the importance of the section of A Treatise of Human Nature entitled "Of the immateriality of the soul" is as praiseworthy as it is uncommon. His suggestion that Reid's intentionalist account of representation was motivated by his (...) desire to save the doctrine of the immaterial self from Hume's demolition of it in "Of the immateriality of the soul," though not proven, is highly provocative. Although I am going to offer a somewhat different reading of "Of the immateriality of the soul" and thereby imply that Falkenstein did not sufficiently appreciate Hume's version of mental-physical dualism, I regard his paper as both informative and insightful and consider my proposed corrections fully compatible with most, if not all, of his substantive claims. Let me begin by contrasting two questions relating to mental-physical dualism. One is whether mental states or properties are irreducibly different from physical states or properties. Materialists generally acknowledge that there is an apparent, putative, or presumed difference between them, only to argue one way or another that the only genuine properties are material ones. Defenders of what I shall call Minimal Mental/Physical Dualism insist that the distinction between two fundamentally different kinds of properties remains at even the deepest levels of metaphysical analysis. One version of the second question is: Are there any immaterial beings? This question really concerns individual subjects, the items to which states or properties are assigned; it asks: do any individual subjects have only mental properties? To answer "yes" is to Phillip D. Cummins is at the Department of Philosophy, 269 English Philosophy Building, The University of Iowa, Iowa City, IA 52242-1408 USA. e-mail: [email protected] 48 Phillip D. Cummins hold what I shall call Strong Mental/Physical Dualism. Its opponents either answer "no" or take an agnostic stance. The two questions are not completely unrelated.1 As Descartes argued in the Sixth Meditation, an irreducible difference between mental and physical properties guarantees at least the metaphysical possibility of a disembodied mind.2 Despite this, an affirmative answer to the first question does not secure an affirmative answer to the second question. Minimal Mental/Physical Dualism does not entail Strong Mental/Physical Dualism. If it is possible for the same individual subject to have both mental and physical properties, it may be the case that whenever an individual subject has a mental property it also has a physical property.3 Consequently, an obvious strategy for establishing Strong Mental/ Physical Dualism is defending the impossibility of an individual subject's having both mental and physical properties, that is, arguing that the two kinds of properties are essentially incompatible with one another. Call this the Incompatible Properties Thesis. If it can be secured, to discover an individual with a mental property is virtually to discover an immaterial thing. Descartes utilized this strategy, also in the Sixth Meditation, where he wrote, The first observation I make at this point is that there is a great difference between the mind and the body, inasmuch as the body is by its very nature always divisible, while the mind is utterly indivisible. For when I consider the mind, or myself in so far as I am merely a thinking thing, I am unable to distinguish any parts within myself; I understand myself to be something quite single and complete. Although the whole mind seems to be united to the whole body, I recognize that if a foot or arm or any other part of the body is cut off, nothing has thereby been taken away from the mind. As for the faculties of willing, of understanding, of sensory perception and so on, these cannot be termed parts of the mind, since it is one and the same mind that wills, and understands and has sensory perceptions. By contrast, there is no corporeal or extended thing that I can think of which in my thought I cannot easily divide into parts; and this very fact makes me... (shrink)

Written specifically with beginning undergraduates with little or no previous knowledge of the subject in mind, this is a distinctive and thoughtful introduction to the main problems of philosophy structured around a philosophical argument which is clearly and carefully developed throughout the book.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXVI, Number 1, April 2000, pp. 179-181 A Puzzling Passage in "Why Utility Pleases" PHILLIP D. CUMMINS It could hardly be controversial that in "Why utility pleases," Section V of his Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, Hume purports to tell his readers why utility pleases. It is not controversial that in that section he rejected the deduction of morals from self-love, that is, the thesis (...) that utility pleases because actions and policies possessing it inevitably are in the actual or perceived selfinterest of the person who approves of them. This is not to deny there are interpretive issues. Nor is it to deny that there are passages which puzzle. Here is one: This deduction of morals from self-love, or a regard to private interest, is an obvious thought, and has not arisen wholly from the wanton sallies and sportive assaults of the sceptics. To mention no others, POLYBIUS, one of the gravest and most judicious, as well as most moral writers of antiquity, has assigned this selfish origin to all our sentiments of virtue. But though the solid, practical sense of that author, and his aversion to all vain subtilties, render his authority on the present subject very considerable, yet is not this an affair to be decided by authority, and the voice of nature and experience seems plainly to oppose the selfish theory. The quotation is from the new Oxford Philosophical Texts edition of the Enquiry edited by Tom L. Beauchamp, who is also responsible for the critical Phillip D. Cummins is at the Department of Philosophy, 269 English Philosophy Building, The University of Iowa, Iowa City, IA 52242-1408, USA. e-mail: [email protected] 180 Phillip D. Cummins edition. It should be noted that the quoted version agrees with both Nidditch's revised Selby-Bigge edition and the older but still useful Hendel edition. In short, this seems to be the standard wording. Nonetheless, the passage seems both to need correction and to be easily corrected. Hume presents Polybius as a highly respected defender of the selflove theory,1 one whose "authority on the present subject" is considerable. This asserted, he adds, "yet is not this an affair to be decided by authority, and the voice of nature and experience seems plainly to oppose the selfish theory." If we contrast the actual wording of the first conjunct to "yet is this an affair to be decided by authority," which expresses a genuine question, it is obvious that the first conjunct is a rhetorical question which implies that authority should decide the issue. The prior reference to Polybius seems to imply that he is the authority in question. Since, according to Hume, Polybius endorsed the selfish theory, the first conjunct itself seems to endorse the selfish theory. However, the second conjunct explicitly and directly challenges that very theory by asserting that both nature and experience oppose it. Thus, in the same sentential unit an appeal to authority is first endorsed, though it is in opposition to Hume's subsequent position, then rejected, as one would expect it to be, given that position. At worst there is inconsistency; at best a muddle. The simple correction is to rearrange three words in the first conjunct, replacing "is not this" with "this is not." These two phrases are generally used in opposition to one another; consider, for example, "Is not this the time to celebrate?" and "This is not the time to celebrate." The former grammatically is a question but its rhetorical function is to imply that it is indeed the time to celebrate, which the latter flatly denies. Note that in the present case, "yet this is not an affair to be decided by authority, and the voice of nature and experience seems plainly to oppose the selfish theory" expresses a claim perfectly in keeping with the argument that follows. Hume will appeal to nature and experience to oppose even those important authorities who endorse the selfish theory. It might be objected that my proposed correction is not needed because sense can be made of the key sentential unit, "yet... theory," as it stands. It might be argued that in the first... (shrink)

What is one to make of Sartre's treatment of his waiter in one of his famous analyses of bad faith? The example is supposed to be an obvious one, but the more we examine it, the less obvious it becomes. Let us remind ourselves of Sartre's example: Let us consider this waiter in the café. His movement is quick and forward, a little too precise, a little too rapid. He comes toward the patrons with a step a little too quick. (...) He bends forward a little too eagerly; his voice, his eyes express an interest a little too solicitous for the order of the customer. Finally there he returns, trying to imitate in his walk the inflexible stiffness of some kind of automaton while carrying his tray with a recklessness of a tight-rope walker by putting it in a perpetually unstable, perpetually broken equilibrium which he perpetually re-establishes by a light movement of the arm and hand. (shrink)

Written specifically with beginning undergraduates with little or no previous knowledge of the subject in mind, this is a distinctive and thoughtful introduction to the main problems of philosophy structured around a philosophical argument which is clearly and carefully developed throughout the book.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hildegard and HolismSuzanne M. Phillips (bio) and Monique D. Boivin (bio)Keywordsbiopsychosocial, integration, medieval, mental illnessWe appreciate the careful and enriching commentary offered by Kroll and by Radden on our paper about holistic views of mental illness in the writings of the twelfth-century abbess and healer Hildegard of Bingen. Both reviewers are well-established figures in the study of historical perspectives on mental illness, an area that we have just (...) begun to explore. We are glad for the opportunity to respond to their observations and thereby to continue the dialogue.First, we would like to clarify our purpose in preparing this paper. Nowhere do we claim that Hildegard used a biopsychosocial model of mental illness, either in addressing the needs of the particular case of Sigewiza, or more generally in her writings on illness and health. In fact, we agree with Kroll (2007, 370), when he states that Hildegard did not use a biopsychosocial model. We use the term “biopsychosocial” only three times in the paper, always by contrast with what we see in Hildegard’s writings. The present-day biopsychosocial model focuses on getting a range of perspectives on the table, encouraging the consideration of biological, psychological, and social issues when thinking about mental illness. This is a good thing, but we argue that it does not go far enough. Specifically, there has been insufficient attention to ways these perspectives might interact.How, then, might we describe Hildegard’s way of conceptualizing mental illness? In place of the label “biopsychosocial model,” Kroll suggests that Hildegard’s approach could be described as a “religious model” (p. 372). Here we disagree. By our reading, Hildegard’s description of mental illness involves religious components, certainly, but also humoral, astrological, interpersonal, community, and intrapsychic components. Radden correctly notes that we are not so much interested in the particular components as we are in their interactions. We are attracted to Hildegard’s writings because she attends to these interactions. Our students, like Kroll’s (p. 371), are curious about mind–body relationships, which represent one example of the interplay between components. Our concern is that the current biopsychosocial model often fails to satisfy our own, and our students’, interest in the nature of those interactions. Our hope is that Hildegard’s writings might help us to think more richly about the interactions.As Radden (2007, 373) points out, present-day psychiatrists and psychologists do in fact use mul-ticausal accounts of depression. And we agree that such accounts need not be reductionistic (Kroll, 371). But we also recognize that psychology and psychiatry have well-established reductionist (more specifically, materialist) habits. To borrow [End Page 377] Kroll’s phrase, the biological model threatens “to swallow all other models” (p. 371). We must guard against such reductionism, given the habits of our disciplines. As we noted, McHugh and Slavney (1998) respond to that threat by building walls between the perspectives, suggesting that we might use different perspectives when thinking about different sorts of problems. We think that there ought to be more synthetic, holistic ways of responding to that threat, and we are hopeful that Hildegard’s writings can help us to develop those.At a basic level, we see Hildegard asking different questions than people ask today. On the first page of his commentary, for example, Kroll poses the question of “which of these three modalities [bio-, psycho-, social] may be sufficient” (p. 369) in the particular medieval text. We found that the sufficiency of one modality or another does not concern Hildegard. We are not able to speak to the general point that Kroll raises, that one or another element is emphasized depending on the goal of the medieval text; we can report our experience in reading Hildegard, where we found no sense in which one or another component is privileged. Even though Hildegard operated within a thoroughly religious context, we did not find examples of her subsuming other factors under religion. Everything interacts with spiritual concerns, to be sure, but everything also interacts with the biological, and with the interpersonal, and with the astrological. Although it may seem odd to us post-Darwinian thinkers, Hildegard’s model is essentially... (shrink)