English summary: Kant described phenomenology as that which comes from us, and that which comes to us, a duality that leads towards the theological horizon. Kant opened a field of inquiry that historical phenomenology, born with Husserl and Heidegger, repeated. As with any repetition, criticisms of this do exist, but the dominant theme of its call is there, as well as the question: which voice do we hear? There are many shapes for this call, but each time there is the (...) law and the summons to be, the summons to change your life. Just as there is perhaps God. French description: La phenomenologie n'a pas a inventer les phenomenes - sinon comme on dit inventer un tresor - mais a les faire voir, ou entendre. Kant s'y emploie a sa maniere lorsqu'il fait entendre le ton de voix lie a l'imperatif categorique, celui d'une voix d'airain. C'est la reconduire la pensee a l'eclat d'un fait premier ou puiser ensuite ses ressources: il y a la loi. Kant le decrit comme un appel, a defaut de tout a fait le nommer ainsi, l'interpretant ensuite tout a la fois comme ce qui vient de nous (comme si le sujet ethique se donnait a lui-meme la loi) et ce qui vient a nous (comme si ce meme sujet repondait a la loi venue de Dieu). Prendre au serieux cette dualite suppose que le chantier kantien de l'ethique ouvre alors sur un horizon theologique. Kant ouvre un chantier que la phenomenologie historique, celle qui nait avec Husserl et Heidegger, repete. Comme toute vraie repetition, celle-ci ne va pas sans critique ni deplacement (Merleau-Ponty, Scheler, Jonas), mais le motif de l'appel est bel et bien la. Nous avons ete appeles - la trace laissee en nous par cet appel est trop forte pour que le moindre doute puisse encore s'elever a son propos, mais la question vient aussitot: quelle voix s'est fait entendre? Quel appel nous surprend et nous souleve? Appel de l'etre (Martin Heidegger), appel de l'Autre (Emmanuel Levinas) ou appel de la vie (Michel Henry)? Nous avons ete appeles, affectes, blesses - ce qui brise la vie lui appartient encore, mais qu'est-ce donc qui la brise et la releve? Multiples sont les figures de l'appel, mais a chaque fois il y a la loi et cette injonction d'etre - cette injonction silencieuse a laquelle le poete aura donne son exacte formule: Tu dois changer ta vie (Rilke). Comme il y a peut-etre Dieu. (shrink)

What is the nature of temporal passage—the movement of events or moments of time from the future through the present into the past? Is the future and the past as real as the present, or is the present—or perhaps the present and the past—all that exists? What role, if any, does language play in giving us an insight into temporal reality? Is it possible to travel through time into distant regions of the future or the past? What accounts for the (...) direction of time, the sense we have that we are moving toward the future and not back into the past? What is the relation between the physics of time and the philosophy of time? These are the kind of dizzying questions that have been addressed by metaphysicians since antiquity, and time has remained a critical concept for many thinkers and philosophers since then (for instance, in his Confessions, St Augustine, restating an observation by Plotinus, wrote: ‘So what is time? If no one asks me, I know; if I seek to explain it, I do not’). Interest in the subject has also been enduring—and has blossomed anew in the past century. The Philosophy of Time is a new title in the Routledge series, Critical Concepts in Philosophy. It meets the need for an authoritative reference work to make sense of the subject’s vast literature and the continuing explosion in research output. Edited by L. Nathan Oaklander, a leading scholar in the philosophy of time, this new Major Work from Routledge brings together in four volumes the canonical and the very best cutting-edge scholarship in the field to provide a synoptic view of all the key issues and current debates. With a comprehensive introduction to the collection, newly written by the editor, which places the collected material in its historical and intellectual context, The Philosophy of Time is an essential work of reference and is destined to be valued by philosophers of time—as well as those working in related areas of philosophy of science, philosophy of mind, and philosophy of religion—as a vital research resource. (shrink)

The distinction between assets and ideas lies at the core of the misunderstanding between Islam and secularism, the strongest version of which is unfolding in the United States. Muslims view Islam as knowledge-based (intellectual) property, not an idea. Secularists reduce Islam to a mere idea, reserving the notion of intellectual property for literary and artistic works, inventions, patents, films, computer programs, designs, trademarks, and trade secrets. Muslims elevate the knowledge-based assets of Islam to the highest level of protection, more than (...) the intellectual work of any scientist, artist, or corporation. Even in the face of a rising tide of secularism throughout the world, they refuse to consign their religion to the marketplace of ideas, a place where ideas are depreciated and trashed. This clash of understanding between Islam as an idea and Islam as intellectual property breeds mutual mistrust between secularists and Muslims. (shrink)

An enormous amount of philosophical literature gets published nowadays. Some of it is good; some is fit only for pulping. We get into the habit not so much of reading as of glancing through the torrent that pours down on us. But sometimes special conditions arise. It so happened that I was forced to spend about a month in the hospital. I took with me the book Evolutionary Epistemology and the Logic of the Social Sciences: K. Popper and His Critics (...) [Evoliutsionnaia epistemologiia i logika sotsial'nykh nauk. K. Popper i ego kritiki] . I attentively read it through and without any irony I can say that I felt "legitimate pride and deep satisfaction." Legitimate pride for philosophy and deep satisfaction with the content of the book. And although readers of Problems of Philosophy [Voprosy filosofii] have already had the opportunity of reading a review of this book , I would like to return to it and make in passing a number of points about Popper's philosophy in general. (shrink)

Moral reasoning traditionally distinguishes two types of evil: moral and natural. The standard view is that ME is the product of human agency and so includes phenomena such as war, torture and psychological cruelty; that NE is the product of nonhuman agency, and so includes natural disasters such as earthquakes, floods, disease and famine; and finally, that more complex cases are appropriately analysed as a combination of ME and NE. Recently, as a result of developments in autonomous agents in cyberspace, (...) a new class of interesting and important examples of hybrid evil has come to light. In this paper, it is called artificial evil and a case is made for considering it to complement ME and NE to produce a more adequate taxonomy. By isolating the features that have led to the appearance of AE, cyberspace is characterised as a self-contained environment that forms the essential component in any foundation of the emerging field of Computer Ethics. It is argued that this goes some way towards providing a methodological explanation of why cyberspace is central to so many of CE’s concerns; and it is shown how notions of good and evil can be formulated in cyberspace. Of considerable interest is how the propensity for an agent’s action to be morally good or evil can be determined even in the absence of biologically sentient participants and thus allows artificial agents not only to perpetrate evil but conversely to ‘receive’ or ‘suffer from’ it. The thesis defended is that the notion of entropy structure, which encapsulates human value judgement concerning cyberspace in a formal mathematical definition, is sufficient to achieve this purpose and, moreover, that the concept of AE can be determined formally, by mathematical methods. A consequence of this approach is that the debate on whether CE should be considered unique, and hence developed as a Macroethics, may be viewed, constructively, in an alternative manner. The case is made that whilst CE issues are not uncontroversially unique, they are sufficiently novel to render inadequate the approach of standard Macroethics such as Utilitarianism and Deontologism and hence to prompt the search for a robust ethical theory that can deal with them successfully. The name Information Ethics is proposed for that theory. It is argued that the uniqueness of IE is justified by its being non-biologically biased and patient-oriented: IE is an Environmental Macroethics based on the concept of data entity rather than life. It follows that the novelty of CE issues such as AE can be appreciated properly because IE provides a new perspective. In light of the discussion provided in this paper, it is concluded that Computer Ethics is worthy of independent study because it requires its own application-specific knowledge and is capable of supporting a methodological foundation, Information Ethics. (shrink)

My interest in the issues considered here arose out of my great frustration in trying to attack the all-pervasive relativism of my students in introductory ethics courses at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University. I am grateful to my students for forcing me to take moral relativism and skepticism seriously and for compelling me to argue for my own dogmatically maintained version of moral objectivism. The result is before the reader. The conclusions reached here (which can be described either as (...) a minimal objectivism or as a moderate verson of relativism) are considerably weaker than those that I had expected and would have liked to have defended. I have arrived at these views kicking and screaming and have resisted them to the best of my ability. The arguments of this book are directed at those who deny that moral judgments can ever be correct (in any sense that is opposed to mistaken) and who also deny that we are ever rationally com pelled to accept one moral judgment as opposed to another. I have sought to take their views seriously and to fight them on their own grounds without making use of any assumptions that they would be unwilling to grant. My conclusion is that, while it is possible to refute the kind of extreme irrationalism that one often encounters, it is impossible to defend the kind of objectivist meta-ethical views that most of us want to hold, without begging the question against the non-objectivist. (shrink)

In C.Q. xliii , p. 39, Mr. J. H. Quincey quotes the opening lines of Catalepton 5 as, Ite hinc,-inanes, ite, rhetorum ampullae, inflata rhoso* non Achaico verba, and adds, ‘the second line is corrupt and no satisfactory emendation has been proposed’. The MS. readings are: rhorso B, roso Mu, om. in lacuna Ar. In face of these voces nihili many have fallen back on the rore of the Aldine edition of 1517. But this does not really help, for one (...) does not inflate with dew: orators are not dew-bags, but wind-bags. It occurred to me some years ago that what is needed is some word meaning breath or wind to go with inflata, and that in view of the rh in rhorso it was probably a Greek word which a scribe had failed to recognize. I conjectured οζ, and found subsequently that this had been proposed by K. Münscher in Hermes, xlvii , pp. 153–4. οȋζος used of any rushing sound, is applied to speech by Philostratus , and by Pollux . It is easy to see how rhoezo could degenerate into rhoeso-rhoso-roso. (shrink)

This passage has caused much discussion and much variety of opinion, and it still remains doubtful whether the later commentators in their efforts at exact interpretation have been more successful than the earlier ones. The general sense is sufficiently clear. Medea is making an apology to the Chorus of sympathizing Corinthian ladies for her delay in appearing before them. So far all are agreed. The difficulties, real or unreal, arise when we begin to inquire what form the apology actually takes. (...) First of all there are doubts as to the meaning of το ς μ μᾂπο. in the Scholia. we have a gloss μῂ όρώμνο είνα. and the explanation το Xωρίςεσθα καì ᾂτν ποθεν μμάτων είνα. Many scholars have taken exception to this view on two grounds, as stated by Verrall ad loc, because ‘the sense of motion is not there, and there is no reference to any eyes in particular.’ He requires either authority or analogy for this. As far as the absence of motion is concerned, it is sufficient to refer to Thuc. 1, 7 αί δ παλααί ᾀπθαλσσης μλλον ῲκίσθησαν id I, 99ναμῄ ᾀπ οκου σ,γ. Il. B 292 μένεν ᾀπ ᾑς ᾀλòΧοο. Then there is the analogous expression αί γàρ δῂ μοᾀπ οὒατος ώδε γένοτο . As to the second objection, why is it necessary that the eyes of anyone in particular should be referred to ? There is no more ambiguity here than there is in Il Ψ 53 θâσσον ᾀπ θαλμν, where the meaning is ‘so as to be out of sight, not of me or you, but of everybody.’ In fact, it could not be maintained with any show of reason that ᾀπθαλμνand ᾀποὒατς could not mean ‘out of sight’ and ‘out of hearing’. (shrink)

Whether any apology is possible for the form of this paper is doubtful; but perhaps a few words are allowable. The miscellaneous notes, of which it consists, are fairly well described by the title: at all events, the proposals contained in them—with, I fear, many others—have been pencilled at one time or another in one margin or another. Their age varies widely: two or three must go back to days when my only complete Euripides was Kirchhoff's editio minor and my (...) only Sophocles a copy of Tournier; the most date from middle age or ‘quidquid est illud inter iuvenem et senem medium in utriusque confinio positum’; but, whenever they were made, they were not made by a student of the Greek dramatists commanding the equipment that such a student ought to have. The equipment, in any case, was out of my reach; but, though I have read the plays often, I have read them only because the ancients have a way of enabling one to forget the moderns—as I was informed in my youth by an excellent scholar who has now forgotten both. I hope, therefore, that anyone who may happen to read the paper will overlook some errors and ignorances of the amateur; and, above all, if I may borrow a sentence from Markland's preface to his emendations on Lysias, ‘si quando dictatoria ista, Lege, vel Scribe, occurrent, scito me nihil aliud velle quam Forte legendum vel scribendum’. (shrink)

The doctrine of simple individuals has its equal and opposite reaction in the view that an individual is simply a bundle of properties, that the identity of an individual is entirely dependent on the identity of its properties. This view also seems to me to be in some sense wrong and I shall attack it in passing. If all my remarks have seemed excessively polemical it is because I have been anxious to make it as clear as possible what the (...) motivation behind this paper is. I am mainly concerned with the problem concerning the "it" which underlies or has properties and I shall want to argue that the identity of an individual--what it is that makes an individual that individual--does not depend merely on its being that individual or having that piece of substratum, but it depends partially and in a complicated way on the identity of its properties. The analysis will have to exhibit the nature of that dependence. Most of the discussion will revolve around proper names and their function since it is through linguistic considerations, I think, that we get the clearest illumination. The result, in case any one is interested, will be Absolute Idealism, or something like it. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:“Warn Me If I Approach the Melody” HELAINE L. SMITH In the 1950s on Saturday night TV, Sid Caesar performed comic sketches for a full hour. In one sketch Carl Reiner played Edward R. Murrow interviewing Caesar as the jazz musician Progress Hornsby. At a certain point Murrow asks Hornsby, “To what do you attribute your band’s great success?” and Hornsby answers, “Well, we have special equipment that warns (...) us if we get anywhere near the melody.” And so it must be with Nancy Worman and all those classicists who approach classics and literature as she does—special equipment to warn them whenever they get anywhere near a responsible reading of the text.* Her argument, cast in sentences whose words, like the amphisbaena, turn back on themselves or are unrecognizable as spoken or written English, boils down to (1) Greek men were colonialists and imperialists; (2) Greek tragedy celebrated men of this sort; (3) there arose, quite to the surprise and possibly to the consternation of its authors, women in their plays who were strong and violent rebels against the oppressive social order; (4) Virginia Woolf, whose feminism is not quite as pure as we’d like it, is not so bad after all because, if you look closely, pulling out the odd word here and there, decontextualizing it, inserting its decontextualized meaning elsewhere and mistranslating any Greek phrase that stands in your way, you discover—voila!—that she held views of Greece and Greek tragedy identical to those of radical feminism and shaped her novels, stories, and essays to reflect that view. Worman’s feminist audience, as familiar as it must be with feminist reception theory, would appear, from the unusual number of play summaries, elementary descriptions of the arion 28.1 spring/summer 2020 *Nancy Worman, Virginia Woolf’s Greek Tragedy. London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019. xii + 152 pages. $102.00. 150 “warn me if i approach the melody” origin and structure of Greek drama, and serious mistranslations in her book, to be unfamiliar with ancient drama, with basic Greek, and perhaps with Virginia Woolf as well. Her book has from such scholars received copious praise. But for those who begin less thematically burdened and who, as a colleague of mine liked to say, “worship at the altar of the text,” Worman’s methods turn scholarly inquiry on its head, not because of what they conclude, but because her conclusions are reached the same way the Queen of Hearts insisted trials be conducted: verdict first, evidence afterwards. Nor does Worman’s text have any discernible structure. Material within chapters bears fleeting connection to chapter titles and subheads. Points appear, vanish, and reappear, like the Cheshire cat, suggesting prior academic papers, here combined. This overall disorganization weakens the book, as does the non-linear quality of individual points. The organization of this review, therefore, is not thematic but chronological : it addresses those works of Woolf’s to which Worman gives attention, and presents them by date of publication. A Room of One’s Own appears nowhere in Worman’s text, and To the Lighthouse receives only minimal attention. Medea is nowhere mentioned in the favored categories of proto-feminist and fierce woman. While The Trojan Women and The Birds would both have served Worman well in arguing that Greek theatre reflected Athenian imperialism, they too make no appearance in her text. Instead, she casts Sophocles’ Electra and Antigone as fierce women and their plays, together with the Agamemnon, as emblematic of Athenian aggression and patriarchy. And so, in the forced nature of Worman’s translations and in the reductiveness of her assessment of Woolf, we see the consequences of a determination to bend texts to serve popular theories. “a dialogue upon mount pentelicus” (1906) woolf’s views of Greece reveal the complexity of great writing. Woolf frequently satirizes classicists who take their Helaine L. Smith 151 learning to be a sign of natural excellence, those for whom knowledge of Greek is simply a marker of position and rank. But for those who love such things for their own sake, or come to love them, as the tourists eventually do in “A Dialogue upon Mount Pentelicus,” she... (shrink)

I do not feel I have the authority to evaluate the individual speeches, much less to venture any conclusion sans appel. Let me just limit myself to some cursory comments about the course of today's conversation and the prospects of a further discussion of this extremely complicated and serious topic.

The claim that animals, as well as people, ‘have rights’ may often mean only that their interests ought to be given some moral weight: they should not be treated ‘cruelly’ or ‘inconsiderately’. The more demanding claim may also be made that animals should not be subjected to simple-mindedly utilitarian calculation: their choices, their liberty, should sometimes be respected even if this prevents the realization of some notionally ‘greater good’. Finally, talk of rights may have a clearly political context: if, and (...) only if, animals have rights, governments are entitled to legislate on how they should be treated. If they do not, then any laws on the subject are merely moralistic, and such as to be regretted by any sincere liberal. It is this last doctrine that I shall be investigating in this paper, with particular attention to the writings of Regan and McCloskey. Only in this context, so it seems to me, does much hang upon the question of whether animals ‘really’ have rights: for those outside the liberal, or libertarian, tradition it is enough to know that we ought not to disregard the suffering of our fellow-creatures, nor treat it merely ‘aggregatively’. (shrink)

"Margaret L. King has put together a highly representative selection of readings from most of the more significant—but by no means the most obvious—texts by the authors who made up the movement we have come to call the 'Enlightenment.' They range across much of Europe and the Americas, and from the early seventeenth century until the end of the eighteenth. In the originality of the choice of texts, in its range and depth, this collection offers both wide coverage and striking (...) insights into the intellectual transformation which has done more than any other to shape the world in which we live today. It is _simply the best introduction to the subject now available_."_ —Anthony Pagden, UCLA, and author of _The Enlightenment and Why It Still Matters_ Contents:_ Chronology, Introduction _Chapter One - Casting Out Idols: 1620–1697_ _Idols, or false notions: _Francis Bacon, _The New Instrument_ _I think, therefore I am: _René Descartes, Discourse on Method _God, or Nature: _Baruch Spinoza, _Ethics_ _The system of the world: _Isaac Newton, _Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy_ _He searched for truth throughout his life: _Pierre Bayle, _Historical and Critical Dictionary_ _Chapter Two - _The Learned Maid: 1638–1740 _A face raised toward heaven:_ Anna Maria van Schurman, _Whether the Study of Letters Befits a Christian Woman_ _The worlds I have made:_ Margaret Cavendish, _The Blazing World_ _A finer sort of cattle:_ Bathsua Makin, _An Essay to Revive the Ancient Education of Gentlewomen_ _I warn you of the world:_ Madame de Maintenon, _Letter: On the Education of the Demoiselles of Saint-Cyr_, and _Instruction: On the World_ _The daybreak of your reason:_ Émilie Du Châtelet, _Fundamentals of Physics_ _Chapter Three - _A State of Perfect Freedom: 1689–1695 _The chief criterion of the True Church:_ John Locke, _Letter on Toleration_ _Freedom from any superior power on earth:_ John Locke, _Second Treatise on Civil Government_ _A white paper, with nothing written on it:_ John Locke, _Essay Concerning Human Understanding_ _Let your rules be as few as possible:_ John Locke, _Some Thoughts Concerning Education_ _From death, Jesus Christ restores all to life:_ John Locke, _The Reasonableness of Christianity, as Delivered in the Scriptures_ _Chapter Four - All Things Made New: 1725–1784_ _In the wilderness, they are reborn:_ Giambattista Vico, _The New Science_ _Without these Names, nothing can be known,_ Carl Linnaeus, _System of Nature_ _All the clouds at last are lifted:_ Anne Robert Jacques Turgot, _The Successive Advancement of the Human Mind_ _A genealogical or encyclopedic tree of knowledge:_ Jean le Rond d’Alembert, _Preliminary Discourse_ _Dare to know! :_ Immanuel Kant, _What Is Enlightenment?_ _Chapter Five - Mind, Soul, and God: 1740–1779_ _The narrow limits of human understanding:_ David Hume, _Anof a Book Lately Published_ _The soul is but an empty word:_ Julien Offray de La Mettrie, _Man a Machine_ _All is reduced to sensation:_ Claude Adrien Helvétius, _On the Mind_ _An endless web of fantasies and falsehoods:_ Paul-Henri Thiry, baron d’Holbach, _Common Sense_ _Let each believe that his own ring is real:_ Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, _Nathan the Wise_ _Chapter Six - Crush That Infamous Thing: 1733–1764_ _This is the country of sects:_ Voltaire, _Philosophical Letters_ _Disfigured by myth, until enlightenment comes:_ Voltaire, _The Culture and Spirit of Nations_ _The best of all possible worlds:_ Voltaire, _Candide_ _Are we not all children of the same God?:_ Voltaire, _Treatise on Tolerance_ _If a book displeases you, refute it! :_ Voltaire, _Philosophical Dictionary_ _Chapter Seven - Toward the Greater Good: 1748–1776_ _Things must be so ordered that power checks power,_ Charles de Secondat, baron de Montesquieu, _The Spirit of the Laws_ _Complete freedom of trade must be ensured:_ François Quesnay, _General Maxims for the Economic Management of an Agricultural Kingdom_ _The nation's war against the citizen: Cesare_ Beccaria, _On Crimes and Punishments_ _There is no peace in the absence of justice:_ Adam Ferguson, _An Essay on the History of Civil Society_ _Led by an invisible hand:_ Adam Smith, _An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations_ _Chapter Eight - Encountering Others: 1688–1785_ _Thus died this great man:_ Aphra Behn, _Oroonoko: or The Royal Slave_ _Not one sins the less for not being Christian: _Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, _Embassy Letters_ _Do you not restore to them their liberty?:_ Guillaume-Thomas Raynal, _Philosophical and Political History of European Colonies and Commerce in the Two Indies_ _Some things which are rather interesting:_ Captain James Cook, _Voyage towards the South Pole, and Round the World_ _The inner genius of my being:_ Johann Gottfried von Herder, _Ideas for a Philosophy of the History of Humankind_ _Chapter - Nine Citizen of Geneva: 1755–1782_ _The most cunning project ever to enter the human mind: _Jean-Jacques Rousseau, _Discourse on the Origin and Foundations of Human Inequality_ _The supreme direction of the General Will:_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract _Two lovers from a small town at the foot of the Alps,_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, _Julie, or the New Heloise_ _Build a fence around your child’s soul:_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, _Emile, or On Education_ _This man will be myself:_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, _Confessions_ _Chapter Ten - Vindications of Women: 1685–1792_ _No higher design than to get her a husband:_ Mary Astell, _Reflections on Marriage_ _The days of my bondage begin:_ Anna Stanisławska, _Orphan Girl_ _A dying victim dragged to the altar:_ Denis Diderot, _The Nun_ _Created to be the toy of man:_ Mary Wollstonecraft, _Vindication of the Rights of Woman_ _Man, are you capable of being just?:_ Olympe de Gouges, _Declaration of the Rights of Woman as Citizen_ _Chapter Eleven - American Reverberations: 1771–1792_ _I took upon me to assert my freedom:_ Benjamin Franklin, _Autobiography_ _Freedom has been hunted round the globe:_ Thomas Paine, _Common Sense_ _Endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights:_ Thomas Jefferson and Others, _Declaration of Independence_ _A safeguard against faction and insurrection:_ James Madison, _Federalist No. 10_ _An end to government by force and fraud:_ Thomas Paine, _The Rights of Man_ _Chapter Twelve - Enlightenment's End: 1790–1794_ _A partnership of the living, the dead, and those unborn:_ Edmund Burke, _Reflections on the Revolution in France_ _The future destiny of the human species:_ Nicolas de Condorcet, _A Sketch of a Historical Portrait of the Progress of the Human Mind_ Texts and Studies, Index. 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In this field questions arise which are certainly difficult; but as I listened last time to members of the group, I felt that the main difficulty perhaps lay in determining precisely what questions we are trying to answer. I have the conviction that if we could only say clearly what the questions are, the answers to them might not appear so elusive. So I have begun with a simple list of questions about discretion which in one form or another were, (...) as it seemed to me, expressed by the group last time. I may indeed have omitted something and inserted something useless: if so, no doubt I shall be informed of this later. The central questions then seem to me to be the following: 1. What is discretion, or what is the exercise of discretion? 2. Under what conditions and why do we in fact accept or tolerate discretion in a legal system? 3. Must we accept discretion or tolerate discretion, and if so, why? 4. What values does the use of discretion menace, and what values does it maintain or promote? 5. What can be done to maximize the beneficial operation of the use of discretion and to minimize any harm that it does? (shrink)

To many it seems obvious that any reduction of the nature of man to purely physical components involves an indirect attack on the doctrine of human immortality. To so reduce human nature, it may be argued, is to eliminate the soul and it is this essential component of man, rather than his body, which is the foundation of his immortality. This seems to me an altogether mistaken notion. My purpose in this paper, therefore, is to clarify the relation of physicalism (...) and immortality and thereby to reveal the error in this alleged incompatibility. (shrink)

Anselm: I agreed that Pegasus is a flying horse according to the stories people tell, the paintings painters paint and so on . That is, Pegasus is a flying horse in the understanding of storytellers, their readers and the artists who depict Pegasus. You asked whether flying is not an unmediated causal power . Well, it could be an unmediated causal power if you or I had it, but not if a being with only mediated powers had it. And so (...) poor Pegasus, a being whose powers are only those given him by storytellers and artists, has only the mediated power of flying that they have given him. He flies in the thoughts and depictions of beings with unmediated powers. Still, Pegasus has not only the mediated power to fly but also the mediated power to entertain us, and perhaps even inspire us. Fool: But people could tell stories about you, too, about how you sprouted wings and flew onto the roof of Canterbury Cathedral. Anselm: Alas, if it were only in stories that I could do that, then flying would not be an unmediated causal power of mine. I would still have unmediated causal powers all right, and so would be greater than Pegasus. But flying is not one of my unmediated causal powers. However, something than which nothing greater can be conceived would, and does, as I have proved in my Proslogion, have unmediated causal powers – indeed, much greater unmediated causal powers than any poor mortals like you and me.1 •↵1 For …. (shrink)

This paper discusses Plato’s question from the Meno : Why should we prefer knowledge that p over mere true belief that p? I find I just do prefer knowledge, and not for any further benefit that I am aware of in the particular case. But I should have that preference, because given our practice of approving of testimony only if uttered with knowledge, I could fail to prefer knowledge, when other things seem to me to be equal, only by having (...) the sorts of serious social or psychological defects that would make me unresponsive to the approval of others. Finally, the social practice that produces this particular preference is good for all of us because it improves the average quality of the testimony we receive, which results in greater success in our projects. (shrink)

Consider the two Duhemian theses S, according to which no single or individual theoretical hypothesis by itself has any observational consequences, and F, which states that no single theoretical hypothesis can be conclusively falsified by any observations.Does the truth of F follow from the truth of S? I had conjectured that Duhem may have thought so, but I argued that it does not [1]. Nancy Tuana contends that my argument misses the mark, and she goes on to argue that it (...) does [2]. It seems to me that her arguments are decisive on this point, and so I welcome the correction. (shrink)

This paper began with the simple object of finding an account that allowed us to compare incompatible false theories. This we achieved with ρ. But that relation is language — or interest — dependent. ρ' is free from this limitation; though thus liberated it is perhaps rather unconcerned about what is true, and further fails to deliver certain intuitive comparisons. Whether ρ is to be preferred to ρ' or vice versa, seems to me a largely fruitless question: In fact it (...) might be that as we seek to free the idea of verisimilitude from any dependence on language, interests or problems, so we gradually collapse it to nothing more than logical power. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Franz Brentano and Intentional Inexistence LINDA L. McALISTER FRANZBRnrCrXr~O,in his important early work Psychologie vom empirischen Stand, punkt (1874), maintains that all human experience is divided into two classes: mental phenomena and physical phenomena,x It is then incumbent upon him to show how these two classes of phenomena are to be distinguished one from another. In Book II, Chapter 1, of the Psychologie, he devotes him.self to this task, (...) and in the course of the chapter he surveys several different ways of making out the distinction. After enumerating examples of men~l phenomena and of physical phenomena, he searches for defining characteristics of mental phenomena. He finds several charac, teristics which he thinks all mental phenomena have and all physical phenomena lack or vice versa, but far and away the most important of these, in Brentano's estimation, and the one whdch has aroused the most interest on the part of later philosophers, is what he calls "intentional inexistence," 2 (or merely "intentional existence"; the prefix "in-" does not indicate negation but rathor location, indicating existence in the mind). As examples of mental phenomena Brentano lists first ideas or presentations (Vorstellungen), whether sensory or issuing from the imagination, and by this he meam not the objects which are presented or which one has before one's mind, but rather the condition or, what Brentano; broadly speaking, calls the act of having such an idea or presentation.3 Thus the acts of hearing something, or seeing or perceiving something would be mental phenomena regardless of whether the object which is, e. g., seen, ds perceived through the visual organs or seen in the mind's eye, so to speak. Other examples are acts of judgment, amongwhich Brentano includes ~:emembering, inferring, believing, doubting; and emotions.such as being happy or sad, lovi~,g and hating, along with which Brentano includes such things as willing, intending, choosing, etc.4 i Oskar Kraus, e.d.,2nd ed. (Leipzig,1924),I, 109. Psych. I, 137. Psych. I, 111. " Psych. I, 112. [423] 424 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY ExamFles of physical phenomena which Brentano mentions are "a color, a figure, a landscape which I see, a chord which I hear, warmth, cold, odor which I perceive; as well as similar images which appear in the imagination." s It appears from the examFles, then, that mental phenomena are all mental acts, in a broad sense, while physical phenomena are, strictly speaking, all instances of sensible qualities, the inclusion of "a landscape" being, apparently, a slip on Brentano's part, as his student, friend and editor Oskar Kraus points out. 6 As mentioned above, Brentano thought that there is one partieula~ mark of mental phenomena which characterizes them better than any other: Every mental phenomenon is characterized by what the Scholastics of the Middle Ages called the intentional (or mental) inexistence of an object, and what we might call, though not wholly unambiguously, reference to a content, direction toward an object (by which you should not take me to mean a thing), or immanent objectivity. Every mental phenomenon includes something in itself as an object, though they do not all do so in the same way. In presentation something is presented, in judgment something is affmned or denied, in love loved, in hate hated, in desire desired and so on.7 Commentators, perhaps not surprisingly, have disagreed as to the precise nature of the view which Brentano is enunciating in this passage,s Some have supposed that since you can think of, hate, or judge, etc., things which do not exist, e.g., Pegasus, then the immanent object of which Brentano speaks i,s not Pegasus but a "thoughtof Pegasus" (gedachtes Pegasus) which exists in one's mind whenever someone th'mks of Pegasus. Apparently H6fler interpreted the doctrine in this way in a paper which he presented to the Fifth International Psychology Congress in 1905.9.In the light of some passages from Brentano's early writings it appears to be a plausible interpretation. Consider, for example, the following passage: There cannot be anyone who contemplates an A unless there is a contemplated A; and conversely.... The two concepts are not identical but they... (shrink)

My great-grandfather died before I was born. He never saw me. But I see him occasionally—when I look at photographs of him. They are not great photographs, by any means, but like most photographs they are transparent. We see things through them.Edwin Martin objects. His response consists largely of citing examples of things which, he thinks, are obviously not transparent, and declaring that he finds no relevant difference between them and photographs: once we slide down the slippery slope as far (...) as photographs there will be not stopping short of absurdity. The examples fail in their purpose, but they will help to clarify the reasons for the transparency of photographs. Several of them can be disposed of by noting that they jeopardize the transparency of photographs only if they jeopardize the very possibility of perception. The others appear to reflect a misconception of the issue before us and the nature of my claim.To perceive something is, in part, to have perceptual experiences caused by the object in question. This is scarcely controversial. It is also uncontroversial that additional restrictions are needed—not all causes of one’s visual experiences are objects of sight—although exactly what the required restrictions are is a notoriously tricky question. One important restriction is that the causation must be appropriately independent of human action , in a sense which I explained . This, I argued, is what distinguishes photographs from “handmade” pictures, which are not transparent. Seismographs and footprints are caused just as “mechanically” as ordinary photographs are. So are photographs that are so badly exposed or focused that they fail to present images of the objects before the camera. So, also, are the visual experiences of those who look at seismograms, footprints, and such badly focused or exposed photographs. Yet we obviously do not see the causes of these things through them, Martin claims. How is it, then, that we see through ordinary photographs? Kendall L. Walton is professor of philosophy at the University of Michigan and author of a book on representation in the arts . His previous contribution to Critical Inquiry, “Transparent Pictures: On the Nature of Photographic Realism,” appeared in the December 1984 issue. (shrink)

References to mirrors were frequent in medieval texts both theological and literary, and their meanings have been abundantly studied, especially recently. Medieval writers were primarily inspired by St. Paul's famous metaphor in his First Letter to the Corinthians 13.12–13: “Now we see only puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we shall see face to face. My knowledge now is partial; then it will be whole, like God's knowledge of me. In a word, there are three things that last forever: (...) faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of them all is love.” Mirrors were also likened to art in many texts; and so they have functioned mightily in investigations of visuality. To cite just one medieval text among many, on Mallorca in 1276, Inghetto Contardo defended pictures against a Jew's alleged attack by asserting that “the holy mother Church sets images out as a kind of mirror, so that seeing them with corporal eyes they see them with the eyes of the mind.” The claim here was that physical images, made possible by Christ's incarnation, were available to human senses and could be formed into a complete picture when they were assimilated with a memory of God's true nature. Hildegard of Bingen had already summed up the idea succinctly: “That [faith] Adam had when he saw with bodily eyes the invisible light of God … but after his disobedience, neither Adam nor any other man could have this vision; for that reason, the faithful can gaze at God only with the interior vision of the soul, in the mirror of faith, and trust to be able to be saved with him who can do all things.” Inghetto was also assimilating the ancient trope to new theories of vision being promulgated at the time by Roger Bacon, Robert Grosseteste, and Witelo and in such popular works as Peter of Limoges's Tractatus moralis de oculo, a preacher's manual composed exactly at the time of the Mallorca debate and very widely circulated afterward. In these, the site of seeing was literally a mirror, namely, the “crystalline humor” where God's light, located in the anterior part of the brain, is unified with rays from the eyes into a double vision. (shrink)

National Enquirer commercials tell us that some people want to know. I have no idea what such a desire has to do with reading tabloid journalism, but the avowal of wanting to know interests me. Maybe this desire is shared by all; at the very least, curiosity is universal. Curiosity may amount to a desire for knowledge, or perhaps it might be explained in other terms, such as a desire for understanding or for finding the truth. Perhaps none of these, (...) even. Maybe the desire is only one of being able to make sense of one's experience of the world. Or maybe the important matter is not the existence of any desire at all. Perhaps, that is, it is not desire as such that drives the search, but rather some need or interest or purpose. (shrink)

Though he has worked almost exclusively in collaborative mediums like radio and film, Orson Welles has always tended to think of himself as an individual author. "Any production in any medium is a one-man production," he said to me. On the question of sharing creative responsibility for the works that bear his name, he is deeply ambivalent. His insistence on multiple billings for himself is legendary. As I can well testify, the very mention of the term collaboration at a wrong (...) moment can be enough to send him into a rage. The controversy over who scripted Citizen Kane initiated by Pauline Kael hurt him very deeply. That the wound still festers to this day is evident in the rancor with which he speaks of former associates like John Houseman. Yet in quieter moments he will fully concede how indispensable his principal collaborators have been to him and will openly discuss the nature and extent of their contributions. He is especially full of praise for cinematographers with whom he has worked over the years, such as Gregg Toland, Russell Metty, and, more recently, Gary Graver. On Citizen Kane, he singles out four individuals whom he thinks deserve special recognition: writer Herman Mankiewicz, art director Perry Ferguson, composer Bernard Herrmann, and Toland. Of these, he says, Toland's contribution to the film was the greatest, second in importance only to his own. In this essay I deal with the history and nature of Welles' collaboration with Toland on Citizen Kane—what brought them together, their working relationship, and the characteristics and rationale of the visual plan they created for the film. As we shall see, Toland brought a largely pre-conceived visual plan to Citizen Kanewhich he had been working out in his previous films. Welles accepted Toland's plan so readily because he recognized how dramatically appropriate it was to the story material. Toland's cinematography for Citizen Kane also left a major legacy to Hollywood films of the 1940s.Robert L. Carringer, is associate professor of English and cinema studies at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. This essay is excerpted from his book in progress, The Road through Xanadu. His most recent contribution to Critical Inquiry was "The Scripts of Citizen Kane". (shrink)

I have practiced psychotherapy, family therapy, and hypnotherapy for over 25 years without a single board complaint or lawsuit by a client. For over 3 years, however, a group of proponents of the false memory syndrome (FMS) hypothesis, including members, officials, and supporters of the False Memory Syndrome Foundation, Inc., have waged a multimodal campaign of harassment and defamation directed against me, my clinical clients, my staff, my family, and others connected to me. I have neither treated these harassers or (...) their families nor had any professional or personal dealings with any of them; I am not related in any way to the disclosures of memories of sexual abuse in these families. Nonetheless, this group disrupts my professional and personal life and threatens to drive me out of business. In this article, I describe practicing psychotherapy under a state of siege and place the campaign against me in the context of a much broader effort in the FMS movement to denigrate, defame, and harass clinicians, lecturers, writers, and researchers identified with the abuse and trauma treatment communities. (shrink)

For the last few years, thanks to the Leverhulme Trust, I've been largely absent from my department, working on the late antique philosopher Plotinus. To speak personally – it's been a difficult few years, since my youngest daughter has been afflicted with anorexia during this period, and my own bowel cancer was discovered, serendipitously, and removed, at the end of 2005. Since then I've had ample occasion to consider the importance – and the difficulty – of the practice of detachment, (...) and also to worry about the moral some have drawn from Plotinian and similar philosophies, namely that the things of this world really do not matter much, and that we should withdraw ourselves from them. Maybe it is true, as Plotinus says, that ‘some troubles are profitable to the sufferers themselves, poverty and sickness for example’. But this is not an altogether helpful message for those afflicted by the bundle of disorders that lead to anorexia. It's difficult not to suspect, for example, that Simone Weil would have lived longer but for her Neo-Platonism. It has also been made obvious to me that we are much less in control of our own mental and emotional states even than I had thought before. None of this, of course, should have been any surprise: I have frequently pointed out – to myself and others – the importance of distinguishing between one's self and the states one finds oneself in, and the extreme difficulty of controlling the thoughts we say are ours. Any delusion that my knowledge of these facts is of itself enough to render me immune to them has been – at least for the moment – thoroughly debunked – though the facts themselves are such that this disillusionment, so to call it, is probably both temporary and almost entirely insincere! (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS 133 of its time and nothing beyond that, while in classical historicism every philosophy was a step in the progressive manifestation of truth not only a historical phenomenon. As a result it iustified not only a historicist treatment but also a speculative discussion of its truth-content. These genuine philosophies may be nonetheless rooted in their own time as we all are, but in philosophy as in life (...) everybody is confronted with a decision whether he wants to be merely a part of history or whether he wants to have history, i.e. also to have the link with true being. Pareyson's theory of interpretation is specially tailored to the reconciliation of the multiplicity of philosophies and of the unity of philosophical thought, aiming at ontological truth. All philosophies are personal interpretations of the world, yet they have an indestructible content of ontological truth that surpasses their own time. We shall not err if we compare Pareyson's interpretation with what Joseph Scbelling called "intelektuelle Anschauung," i.e. the intuitive penetration of what he called the Absolute. Pareyson protests also against the claims of the humanistic sciences, such as sociology, anthropology and cultural history, to replace philosophy. All these sciences canhot replace the function of philosophy as described above. Pareyson uses a very illuminating metaphor: interpreting truth is like interpreting a musical score. While any such interpretation may be legitimate, all may be different and all are personal. But the musical score is always the same. The musical score is compared here with the ontological truth of philosophical thought, while the various readings of the score are the various historical philosophies. By so doing Pareyson avoids the error of Heidegger who rejected all historical philosophies from Parmenides to Nietzsche. MAx RINSER New York Ctty Moser, Shia. Absolutism and Relativism in Ethics. (Springfield, Ill., Thomas, 1968) In the last twenty years our ethics textbooks have been modeled upon the topics of normative and critical ethics. Eventually one finds appended to these main subjects discussions on moral determinism and relativism. While the former problem continues to foster much rigorous scholarship, both substantive and analytic, the germane issue of relativism has been seldom set forth today in a clear and convincing fashion. The fleeting recognition the problem receives in our textbooks renders homage to the curiosity of the student rather than encourages research in the origin, variability and validity of moral ideas,x The several articles 2 of any philosophical impact written after A. Edel essayed refutation of Westermarck's relativity thesis by appealing to invariant factors in the social sciences, fare no better. Although it is true that this recent literature has opened An exception is Maria Ossowska's, Social Determinants of Moral Ideas (Philadelphia, 1970); this book belongs to the tradition of A. Edel and is an excellent example of fruitful research in the sociology of morals. 2 C. Wellman, "The Ethical Implications of Cultural Relativity," Journal of Philosophy 60 (1963): 169-184; J. Ladd, "The Issue of Relativism," The Monist 47 (1963): 585-609; T. L. McClintoek, "The Argument for Ethical Relativism from the Diversity of Morals," The Monist 47 (1963): 528-544; G. B. Wall, "Primitive Cultures and Ethical Universals," International Philosophical Quarterly 1 (1967): 471-482; V. A. Howard, "Do Anthropologists Become Moral Relativists by Mistake?" Inquiry 11 (1968): 175-189. 134 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY new avenues of conceptual investigation, the diversity of definitions offered and propounded theses make it difficult to ascertain precisely where these new avenues are planned to lead. It seems to me that if one construes relativism in terms of one component of J. Ladd's thesis,3 i.e., moral ideas are causally dependent on socio-cultural determinants of some kind, there is substantially no difference between the alleged moral implications of relativism and those of determinism. Indeed relativism so interpreted becomes entangled in one of the problems peculiar to determinism, which is the difficulty of ascribing responsibility to societies and individuals. Thus the determinist's avowed impotence to blame and praise coincides with the relafivist's virtue of tolerance.4 By the same token one could exploit the determinist's model and speak of hard relativism, soft relativism and... (shrink)

I Want to comment on five passages where I have provoked disagreement by a previous discussion. In the first three, my discussion was in Philologus cx , 152–4, and my critic is Bruno Gentili in Quaderni Urbinati iv , 177–81. I was not the first to make an emendation in any of the three places, so that in defending the transmitted text Gentili is actually not only criticizing me but others such as Hermann, Naeke, O. Müller, Schoemann, Hunt, Murray, and (...) Page. (shrink)

I wish now to return to the elementary characterization of languagehood in section III and its rationalization in section IV and say something by way of conclusion. The account given may or may not have a large number of fascinating and important consequences, but I shall confine myself to a couple of minor points and one not so minor.Let us suppose that there are either an infinite number of extra-linguistic entities (which seems plausible) or an infinite number of possible expressions (...) (inscriptibles). Then, since the Descriptive Part of a language is just a finite mapping of expressions onto entities, there will be an infinite number of languages. The point is pretty obvious anyway. A language is presumably a linguistic structure (whatever that is) thatcould be used by intelligent creatures in exchanging information and in doing logic. There is no reason at all to suppose that the number of such structures is finite.The second minor point is derivative. There is no essential differencequa languages between the so-called natural languages and the so-called artificial languages. Consider hammers. Some hammers are actually used to drive nails. Some perish in warehouse fires before they ever have that honor. But all are equally hammers. It's the same with languages. Some are actually used, the vast majority, including the “artificial” languages defined in semantics books, are never used. But apart from differences in richness and complexity, all are equally languages.8But the major point I wished to bring out in this paper is the contrast between a language and its use, or, if you like, between a language and speech behaviour. I labored the distinction in my introductory remarks and in the body of the paper I offered a sketch of a purely semantical definition of ‘language’. Insofar as the apparatus goes any distance towards bringing order out of chaos then this circumstance vindicates the distinction. We say that Alexander is able to ride Bucephalus and is able to speak Greek. Just as in the first case we distinguish between what Alexander is able to do, namely ride Bucephalus, and what he is able to ride, namely, Bucephalus, so in the second we should distinguish between what Alexander is able todo, namely, speak Greek, and what he is able tospeak, namely, Greek. Strictly speaking, of course, we have to recognize the linguistician's commonplace distinction, within use, between the ability or competence to speak (use) a language and specific exercises of that ability, or performances9. This is the distinction between ‘He speaks English’ and ‘He is now speaking English’.Another example, closer to present concerns. We would have no trouble distinguishing between the ability to play the Bach Chaconne and performances of the Chaconne on the one hand, and on the other, the Chaconne itself; between what the violinist is able todo (viz., play the Chaconne) and what he is able to play (viz., the Chaconne). And once we accept the distinction we would expect to be able to describe the Chaconne —which is a sequence of sounds - independently of the behavior involved in playing it. An unedited score in fact does this. It is the violinteacher who talks about double stopping and so on.10 In the same way, it seems to me, if we accept the distinction between a language and its use we commit ourselves to discovering ways of giving a phonological-syntactical-semantical characterization of a languagewithout reference to behavior, without employing the word ‘uses’ - and this demand has exactly the same rationale as the demand that we keep psychology out of logic. Then in pure pragmatics, the word ‘uses’ comes into its own. (shrink)

"The conception of 'lived experience' marks my change since L'Etre et le Néant ... L'Etre et le Néant is a monument of rationality. But in the end it becomes an irrationalism, because it cannot account rationally for those processes which are 'below' consciousness and which are also rational, but lived as irrational. Today, the notion of 'lived experience' represents an effort to preserve that presence to itself which seems to me indispensable for the existence of any psychic fact, while at (...) the same time this presence is so opaque and blind before itself that it is also an absence from itself."1. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Imagining Karma, Ethical Transformation in Amerindian, Buddhist, and Greek RebirthA. L. HermanImagining Karma, Ethical Transformation in Amerindian, Buddhist, and Greek Rebirth. By Gananath Obeyesekere. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002. 448 pp.Gananath Obeyesekere, professor emeritus of anthropology at Princeton University, is probably one of the world's greatest living anthropologists. The proof of that assertion lies in this his latest work on comparative anthropology, a study of the concept (...) and practice of rebirth—"reincarnation" as he calls it—from ancient Greece and India to modern West Africa, Melanesia, and North America. In what follows let me briefly set forth what I understand his central thesis to be, the evidence for it, and the conclusions to be drawn from it. I will end with two very modest problems connected with this altogether intriguing and brilliant investigation into the doctrine of rebirth.As a modified structural anthropologist, Gananath Obeyesekere rejects the rationalist model structuralism of Claude Levi-Strauss. He follows instead the lead of two of his empiricist predecessors, Max Weber and Fernand Braudel, pointing out that structures, types, or models "are constructions of scholars, not universals waiting to be discovered" (p. 351). Consequently, as this book aptly proves, Obeyesekere's own "imagined" models are based on parole data following the actual language of the cultures being studied.Obeyesekere thus begins his book with an elementary rebirth structure based on such parole. He refers to this primitive, first structure as "rebirth eschatology," which entails the rebirth of a deceased's soul into the body of a newborn relative of the deceased but without any determining ethical component as found in the more sophisticated and complex "karmic eschatologies." Such ethically neutral kin group rebirths are found among certain small-scale societies in West Africa, the Trobriand Islands, the Northwest American coast tribes, and the Inuits (Eskimos). Obeyesekere [End Page 303] draws extensively on field studies of these groups to bolster his conclusions about them. This simple rebirth eschatology is non-Indic in origin, Obeyesekere claims, since no evidence of influences have been found between these practitioners of rebirth eschatology and work relating to the Indic religions (Hinduism and Buddhism). The entry of the soul into postdeath life, either in this world or the world of the ancestors, depends not at all, consequently, on one's this-worldly behavior such that "morality does not affect the fate of the soul after death" (p. 74).Obeyesekere turns next to the "transformation" of this rebirth eschatology. It occurs with the introduction of the concept of ethicization, "the processes whereby morally right or wrong action becomes a religiously right or wrong action that in turn affects a person's destiny after death" (p. 75). It is Obeyesekere's contention that when ethicization is systematically introduced into any rebirth eschatology the latter must logically transform itself into a so-called "karmic eschatology." In other words, this second topological model or conceptual structure, karmic eschatology, the new ethicized rebirth eschatology, says that the otherworld for the dead is not simply a way station for departed souls waiting to be reborn, but rather that otherworld is now a place of retribution and punishment. Kinship affiliation alone no longer determines who goes where after death but moral action does. My own guess is that rebirth eschatology was introduced to answer the question of why the grandchild resembles the deceased grandparent. Karmic eschatology, on the other hand, was probably introduced to solve a more complex and sophisticated puzzle: Why is it, if there really is justice in the universe, that the wicked never get appropriately punished and the good never get sufficiently rewarded? At this stage of transformation, the law of karma, or some other principle of universal justice, now says that everyone gets what's coming to them, either in this life or the next, and that rebirth is necessary to make that principle of justice workable.1 In arguing that "rebirth cannot be divorced from ethics; it looks as if it is generated from ethics" (p. 82), Obeyesekere would seem to concur that karmic eschatology was introduced to answer the question: Why do the wicked seem to prosper and the good appear to suffer?Following... (shrink)

He was always before me in reaching the solution of any difficult passage, and I was con stantly impressed by the readiness with which he brought to our aid ...

I Purpose in this essay to declare by means of a few chosen examples the theory and method upon which I have for over twelve years been proceeding to the restoration of the text of Propertius. I had always hoped to present my results first in their final form; but the long delays and the immediate circumstance of war compel me to a partial presentation of what is now in all essentials a finished work. The examples I choose are mostly (...) those which I used in 1911 in a paper read before the Philological Societies of Cambridge and Oxford; nothing but detail has been changed in any part of my theory since that date. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Commentary on “Minds, Memes, and Multiples”Timothy Sprigge (bio)In his paper “Minds, Memes and Multiples” Stephen Clark discusses the problem of multiple personality, to some considerable extent in response to Stephen Braude’s recent book First Person Plural, with eloquence, subtlety and some apposite historical references. I am delighted to have been asked to make some comments on it, developing some points I made in discussion when Professor Clark read his (...) paper at a seminar in Edinburgh.Multiple personality is certainly a fascinating subject on which anyone with views about the nature of human persons does well to cast an eye. I am grateful to both Clark and Braude for having raised my awareness of it. Clearly, Clark has been persuaded by Braude of the reality of the phenomenon as something more than just a form of extreme role-playing or play acting, 1 but also agrees with him that there is an ultimate single self behind the genuine multiplicity (Clark 1969; Braude 1991). What this ultimate self is Clark seeks to explain by reference to a single “light” which illumines all the variety (extreme in the case of multiple personality), of ideas, thoughts, emotions etc. by which we are variously swayed.Let us for simplicity take the case where the putatively distinct “persons” associated with the one human organism are three. Prima facie, there are, in these cases, three distinct centers of consciousness associated with a single human organism each capable turn and turn about of being the dominant one (that which is using the first person pronoun out aloud to speak of itself and whose desires and wishes are what is most immediately expressed in behavior).There seem to be three main features of genuine and full blooded multiple personality (as described most famously—I shall assume correctly—in Morton Prince’s The Dissociation of a Personality and Thigpen and Cleckley’s The Three Faces of Eve). First, the different centers of consciousness exhibit very different personalities, so different that the individual seems in some ways even physically altered according as to which is dominant. By personality here I mean a system of character traits rather than the principle of personal identity, whatever we think that to be. The expression “multiple personality” tends rather to blur the distinction between personality in this sense and person. Someone can change quite radically in personality without ceasing to be the same person—or at least that is how we ordinarily look at it. Second, at least one of them does not “remember” the experiences and conscious behavior of at least one of the others, while one of them does. If they really are different persons, some would think that “memory” is the wrong word here. But I am using “memory” to refer to any cognitive relation sufficiently akin to that in which we stand to our own past experiences when we [End Page 31] remember them. Third, they co-exist in the sense that at least one other of the centers is often “looking on” at the contents and public manifestations of the then dominant one.Another important factor is that they have attitudes to one another, often of hostility, which seem much more like the attitudes one can have to another person than one normally does to oneself. However, important as this is, it should not be taken as part of the definition of multiple personality, since so many of these attitudes are ones many people direct at themselves, (e.g. self-hatred and self-pity). To say that these are distinct from the hatred and pity felt towards others just because they are self-directed seems rather to beg the question.It seems to me that unless the first three conditions are met, we do not have multiple personality in a full sense. I cannot consider all possible cases in which only one or two of the conditions are met but here are some examples. Suppose that the first condition is met but not the other two. Then we would have a person subjected to striking mood swings, each mood bringing with it a contrasting set of personal loves and hates, political opinions, aesthetic tastes, sporting enthusiasms, and... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reduction's FutureTheology, Technology, and the Order of KnowledgeKevin L. HughesLet me begin with something of a confession. When as a young undergraduate I first encountered medieval texts, and so, for the first time, began to know something of the medieval "way of seeing," I was intoxicated. And I was intoxicated, in part, by the comprehensiveness and unity of this worldview, where God, humans, the cosmos, science, theology, philosophy, nature, (...) supernature – all of these elements fit. So often in my thinking I have repaired to those famous last lines of Dante's Comedy, to the "Love which moves the sun and other stars," as the epitome of the comprehension, coherence, and harmony of the medieval worldview.Perhaps this is one of the reasons I have been attracted to the work of St. Bonaventure. We may all be familiar with the statements that now have become almost truisms, that to know Bonaventure at all, one needs to know the whole system, and that the whole system is found in every kind of work that he had done. "Procession, exemplarity, return, this is the whole of our metaphysics."1 This principle of Order in Bonaventure, as described and analyzed by Wayne Hellmann, is a kind of keystone to all of Bonaventure's work.2 [End Page 227]If you understand the "order," you understand Bonaventure. Such admirable consistency and harmony! Such remarkable unity of perspective! And, at least by many accounts, the Reduction of the Arts to Theology3 is a perfect concise instance of Bonaventure's synthetic vision.It is precisely this unity, as found in the Reduction of the Arts to Theology, that Dieter Hattrup finds problematic. For Hattrup, the notion of unity itself is not problematic; rather, it is the unity of knowledge as conveyed in the Reduction that approaches a deeply problematic modern understanding of knowledge. Hattrup believes he has discovered in this brief treatise the seeds of what we might call a technological or manipulative knowledge. Whatever the limits of Dieter Hattrup's historical and textual brief against the authenticity of the Reduction, his theological queries should put us all on guard if we are to imagine a future for any "reduction of the arts to theology," Bonaventurean or otherwise.A Theological QuestionBonaventura zwischen Mystik und Mystifikation4 begins with a basic theological premise: Christian theology is interested in the relationship between faith and reason, and this interest follows from the even more basic Christian claim that God is distinct from the world. If one has an intra-cosmic notion of the divine, wherein gods are the greatest or most powerful beings among all other beings, then the question between faith and reason does not arise. Gods who are beings can be known in the way we know all other beings, i.e., through reason. Faith, on the other hand, describes the kind of knowledge we can have of the One who is not part but [End Page 228] Maker of the created order. From the time of Philo on, Jewish and Christian believers5 have drawn this careful distinction and explored how faith and reason might be related without being reduced one into the other. Hattrup suggests that this perpetual question is raised with particular intensity with the revival of Aristotelian philosophy in the High Middle Ages, and Bonaventure stands as a major figure in scholastic inquiry. But, he tells us, this question remains crucial to our own time under the sign of "secularization."6It is important to note this opening overture, as it tells us that Hattrup is exploring what he takes to be first and foremost a theological puzzle: Does the Reduction of the Arts to Theology faithfully represent Bonaventure's understanding of the relationship between faith and reason as ways of knowing? Is it consistent with what we find (and what Hattrup has studied elsewhere)7 in his Sentence Commentary, Disputed Questions on the Knowledge of Christ, and the Collations on the Hexaëmeron? Most importantly, and more theologically, does the Reduction distinguish properly between faith and reason, as would befit this Doctor of the Church? Or is it the beginning of the collapse of this classic distinction... (shrink)

There isn’t much understanding in some marriages. My sister has six [children] and another has eight. I said to one of them that she shouldn’t have any more. And she said “What can I do? When my husband comes home drunk, he foxes me to sleep with him.” And that is what happens to a lot of women. And if the women don’t do it, the men hit them, or treat them badly. Or the men get jealous and think their (...) wives are with other men.—Rene, a 29-year old Peruvian womanGender violence is a major yet often underrecognized obstacle to reproductive choice. In both the abortion rights movement in the United States and the reproductive health movement globally, the “enemy” of self-determination and choice is usually seen as imposing from the top down. In the North, it is the government—through the courts, the legislature, and bureaucratic rulemaking—that threatens to “take away” women’s reproductive autonomy. The image is one of the public sphere invading that which is private—of the state interfering with a woman’s right to control her own body. (shrink)

There isn’t much understanding in some marriages. My sister has six [children] and another has eight. I said to one of them that she shouldn’t have any more. And she said “What can I do? When my husband comes home drunk, he foxes me to sleep with him.” And that is what happens to a lot of women. And if the women don’t do it, the men hit them, or treat them badly. Or the men get jealous and think their (...) wives are with other men.—Rene, a 29-year old Peruvian womanGender violence is a major yet often underrecognized obstacle to reproductive choice. In both the abortion rights movement in the United States and the reproductive health movement globally, the “enemy” of self-determination and choice is usually seen as imposing from the top down. In the North, it is the government—through the courts, the legislature, and bureaucratic rulemaking—that threatens to “take away” women’s reproductive autonomy. The image is one of the public sphere invading that which is private—of the state interfering with a woman’s right to control her own body. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Art, Mind, and IntentionNoël CarrollArt and Intention: A Philosophical Study, by Paisley Livingston ; 266 pp. oxford: oxford University Press, 2005, $74.00, $35.00 paper.The relevance of intention to the philosophy of art was perhaps first made explicit by G.W.F. Hegel who, in his monumental The Philosophy of Fine Art, narrowed the domain of aesthetics to art on the grounds that the beauty that pertains to art is the product (...) of mind. Though Hegel does not single out intention as the aspect of mind that impresses him, his definition of fine art in terms of that which possesses an aim that imbues the pertinent art with content makes it probable that what he is talking about is intention. Since Hegel's day, but maybe most especially in the last three decades, philosophers of art have relied upon the notion of intention to attempt to solve many of the recurring problems of their field, including not only issues involving art status, but those involving authorship, interpretation, and fictional truth, among others. In Art and Intention: A Philosophical Study, Paisley Livingston has performed the very valuable service of corralling a substantial number of topics regarding the intersection of art and intention between the covers of one book.Although there are books devoted to exploring the relation of art and intention with respect to specific topics, most notably interpretation, there is, to my knowledge, no other book like Livingston's that surveys such a diversity of issues concerning the nexus of intention and the [End Page 394] philosophy of art. Thus, Art and Intention should be a welcome addition to the library of any aesthetician.Art and Intention comprises seven chapters. The first chapter, reasonably enough, involves a discussion of what it is to be an intention. For Livingston, who follows the action theorist Alfred Mele quite closely, an intention standardly consists of a propositional attitude in addition to a propositional content toward which said attitude is directed. The propositional attitude is executive in nature—that is, where x is the content, the intender is firmly settled upon or committed to perform x, or, at least, to try to perform x. The propositional content of an intention, in turn, is what Livingston calls a plan. An intention then is an executive attitude towards plans.I am a bit unhappy with this formulation, since I worry that it may be somewhat misleading. To my ear, the word plan insinuates the idea of a formulated method, whereas many intentional actions, including those of artists, are scarcely worked out beforehand but emerge instead in the heat of doing things. Livingston is aware of this and appears to require no more of plans in his sense than that they involve at least a rudimentary grasp of the means for carrying off the purposes at hand. This seems right to me, but it still strikes me as strained to call this sort of procedural knowledge a plan.When Jasper Johns denies that he plans to make a picture in a certain way, but rather only follows a thought that pulls in a certain direction, he does not mean to disagree with Livingston, though his choice of words seems at odds with Livingston's.1 For Johns's, like many others, plan means a precise formulation, whereas for the action theorist it is a technical term of art with broader signification. Nevertheless, since the word still retains its ordinary meaning, the possibility for confusion here is rife. So, perhaps another word can be found or, maybe, coined.Chapter 2 concerns intention and the creation of art. Livingston spends the first part of the chapter fending off counterexamples, like automatic writing, that might be adduced to challenge the claim that artworks require intentions. I am very sympathetic with his treatment of the examples he canvasses. However, I would be curious to hear what he would say about a case that I've heard described of a show at MOMA several decades back where images culled from surveillance cameras, operating automatically, were exhibited.2 These specific images were not produced intentionally by anyone. But aren't they art? Perhaps the curators will be assigned the... (shrink)

I Want to comment on five passages where I have provoked disagreement by a previous discussion. In the first three, my discussion was in Philologus cx, 152–4, and my critic is Bruno Gentili in Quaderni Urbinati iv, 177–81. I was not the first to make an emendation in any of the three places, so that in defending the transmitted text Gentili is actually not only criticizing me but others such as Hermann, Naeke, O. Müller, Schoemann, Hunt, Murray, and Page.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Breathing TogetherRebecca L. Walkowitz (bio)For the first seven years of my career, I taught a very large lecture course once, and sometimes twice, a year in a graded auditorium filled seat-to-seat with as many as 350 undergraduates. The course focused on a cluster of themes that linked art and violence–how art resists violence, how art animates violence, how art expresses violence, how violence spurs art– and traced those themes (...) through the history of British fiction from Joyce, Woolf, and Forster through Barker, Burgess, Ishiguro, and Rushdie. I loved teaching that class. I loved and was sometimes terrified and almost always invigorated by being in that room with those students. Needless to say, no one wore masks. Far from it.I remember the feel of the crowded, anonymous, yet intimate room. Intimate, because a group of 20 or 30 very avid students occupied the first few rows, and I came to value and recognize their attentive faces. I could hear their little sounds as they scratched out notes, adjusted their laptops, whispered to each other, and rustled papers. Intimate, because I was standing at my full, not very substantial height on a stage, and they were looking up at my body and listening to my voice for 50 minutes twice a week. And intimate, in another sense, because they would sometimes forget that we were there together live and behave in ways that I have never experienced in a smaller classroom. One day, two students in the last row, which in the slanted auditorium was directly level with my elevated gaze, spent most of the lecture kissing ardently. I was impressed by their enthusiasm and by the duration of their embrace. At the end of the lecture, I quick-stepped up the aisle to remind them: this is not TV; we are here together. I smiled while I said it, and they apologized for distracting me. I smile as I think about it now.During the COVID lockdown, I missed the embodied experience of large gatherings, including large lectures. The Zoom classroom, for all its affordances, can't replicate the accidental encounters, the risk and energy of embodied presentation, the warmth of individual eye contact, and the shoulder experiences of the class period: what happens in the time just before and the time just after the actual class takes place. The shoulder experiences are truly precious, as any seasoned teacher knows, because [End Page 258] they allow us to shift the scale of encounter up and down, and they allow us to interact in spontaneous and less formal ways than we do when the entire class is gathered as one. Close up and informally, we are more likely to use our faces and our hands: smiling, nodding, tilting, waving, and pressing our palms together to say thank you.There is a kind of social intimacy and a kind of social violence that can only be illustrated in a very large group, and I appreciated my lecture for allowing me to experience that. The most terrifying day of my class each semester was the day I spoke about– and performed!–the shock of involuntary, inchoate expression in E. M. Forster's A Room with a View. Like other Bloomsbury artists, Forster was committed to ushering out traditional ideas of self-restraint and maturity and ushering in greater communication between men and women, between social classes, and between ages about sexuality, desire, and the experiences of the body. The word of the day was "play": life needed more play, more honesty, more curiosity, and less seriousness, less decorum, and less lying to ourselves and others.What does this look like in the classroom? On the day in question, we would talk about the scenes in the novel in which characters are criticized for disruptive actions they cannot or do not control, such as fainting, laughing, bleeding, getting carried away, or expressing sounds in addition to words. I would explain that there are two problems with these actions: they are accidental or unintentional, and they involve an unexpected, unregulated expression of the body in public. Even worse, the actions take place in what our grandparents used to call "mixed... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Many Mansions? Multiple Religious Belonging and Christian IdentityJames L. FredericksMany Mansions? Multiple Religious Belonging and Christian Identity. Edited by Catherine Cornille. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2002. 152 pp."A heightened and widespread awareness of religious pluralism," according to Catherine Cornille, "has presently left the religious person with the choice not only of which religion, but also how many religions she or he might belong to" (p. 1). What Cornille (...) calls "multiple religious belonging," therefore, merits our theological attention. I agree, even though I am not convinced that the phenomenon is very widespread and certainly not a trend. In any event, Cornille does us a great service in raising the issue of multiple religious belonging. The book should be widely read and discussed.Lest there be any confusion, Cornille is skeptical of bourgeois Westerners making facile claims about being Buddhists or Taoists and does not consider this "belonging." She argues (following Raymundo Panikkar) that religious belonging entails a twofold movement: first, a conscious (not "anonymous") identification with a religious community, and second, being recognized by that community as a member. Promoters of New Age spirituality therefore do not practice multiple religious belonging as defined by Cornille. In fact, New Age religiosity is not a form of belonging at all to the extent that it rejects the normativity of any religious claim. Furthermore, belonging is more than admiration for another religion and acceptance of selected beliefs from that religion. In this case, Christians such as myself, who have dedicated themselves to the study of Buddhism, cultivated Buddhist friends, studied with Buddhist teachers and who practice forms of Buddhist meditation within a Christian liturgical context, but do not self-identify as Buddhists, should not be considered examples of multiple religious belonging. All this seems very sensible to me. Oddly, none of the contributors actually endorse multiple religious belonging as defined by Cornille. There is, however, much discussion regarding possible theological foundations for it.At the beginning of his essay, Jacques Dupuis recognizes that multiple religious belonging poses serious theological problems for Christian believers. Clearly this is [End Page 167] the case. A Christian professing to be a Buddhist is theologically unintelligible. Dupuis, however, goes on to caution theologians such as myself to go slow in coming to any conclusions about the propriety of multiple religious belonging. In this, I also am in agreement. The church should be patient with multiple religious belongers in the hope of learning from them. If this means putting theological concerns on hold for the time being, so be it. This would not be the first time that theology would be playing catch-up ball with new forms of Christian spiritual practice. Multiple religious belonging may prove to be a genuine possibility for Christian spiritual practice. Theology will have a legitimate voice in making such a determination. Dupuis is right to counsel caution.Not all of the contributors take the theological problems posed by multiple religious belonging as seriously as Dupuis does. Raymundo Panikkar, for example, deals with the problem by dismissing the importance of doctrine to religious identity. Apparently, one is free to believe anything one wants and still call oneself a Christian, a Sikh, or a Muslim, provided that one is accepted by these communities as a member. In minimizing the importance of doctrine, Panikkar takes pains to separate faith from mere belief, as if making this strict distinction between the two were the only alternative to fundamentalism. Once faith transcends the institutional boundaries that distinguish religions, the test for religious belonging is sociological, not theological. Conflicting doctrinal claims distinguishing religious communities from one another are not a problem for multiple religious belonging because doctrinal consistency has little to do with one's multiple religious identities.Even more than Panikkar, Francis X. Clooney is untroubled by the theological problems attending multiple religious belonging. Starting with Hindu texts (primarily the Mutal Tiruvantati), Clooney builds bridges to a Christian text (Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola) and concludes that God will be with us in whatever way suits us. "However someone takes refuge in me," Vishnu assures us in the Gita, "in that way I do favor them." The devotee supplies the imagination. God never fails... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 22.1 (2002) 251-254 [Access article in PDF] James Fredericks Interview The 2002 winner of the Frederick J.Streng Book Award is James Fredericks, professor ofTheological Studies at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, California. Professor Fredericks received the award for his book, Faith Among Faiths: Christian Theology and the Non-Christian Religions, published by Paulist Press (New York) in 2001. Buddhist-Christian Studies asked James about his writing of the (...) volume.Buddhist-Christian Studies: Why did you write Faith Among Faiths?James Fredericks: I wanted to help Christians think about the problems that the "pluralist" view of religious diversity poses for inter-religious dialogue.How does the book do that?By making a sustained criticism of the claim that religions are differing interpretations of the same transcendent "Reality." This notion is a problem for a religion of revelation, like Christianity, but also for a religion like Buddhism that has a sophisticated critique of metaphysics. Pluralist thinkers impose a meta-religious grand narrative on all the religions and demand that the religions conform to this grand narrative in the name of "tolerance."This kind of thinking has roots in the European Enlightenment and has affinities with some strands of Hindu thought, especially the "neo-Hindu" thinkers. I do not think that this approach fosters dialogue in depth. If Buddhism and Christianity are varying interpretations of the same ultimate "Reality," then what does Buddhism have to teach Christians that is of genuine theological importance? The obvious differences that distinguish Buddhism from Christianity are of little theological interest to Christians because they are of no soteriological consequence. The pluralist approach is a dead end for dialogue.And the way forward?What I call "comparative theology." I think of this as an alternative to what Christians call the "theology of religions."What's the difference?Theologies of religion interpret the meaning of other religious traditions from within the perspective of Christian tradition. Karl Rahner's theology of the anonymous Christian and Karl Barth's rejection of all religions as "unbelief" are both examples of a theology of religion. John Hick's pluralist model of religions is also a kind of theology of religions. This entire project has reached an impasse within Christianity. As an alternative, I propose that Christians recognize that Buddhism and Christianity [End Page 251] are linked by some significant similarities and distinguished from each other by significant differences.How does that break the impasse?Christians have something of genuine value to learn by entering humbly into dialogue with Buddhists. By taking differences seriously, dialogue becomes a way for Christians to do their own theology collaboratively with Buddhists. In the medieval period, Christians did theology in dialogue with Aristotle and Plato. Today, I want Christians to do theology in dialogue with Nagarjuna and Dogen. Therefore doing theology comparatively is to step beyond the notion of a theology of religions. Comparative theology does not begin with the assumption that Buddhism is a relatively obscured form of the same truth Christians affirm (Rahner) or that Buddhism and Christianity are relatively equal expressions of a truth that transcends them both (Hick). The purpose of dialogue is not to show how we are all really trying to say the same thing. ForChristians, at least, dialogue with Buddhists is a genuinely demanding way of doing theology.Any other reasons for the book?Yes. To promote friendships among Buddhists and Christians. These "inter-religious friendships" are a good way for Christians to practice their faith. My own friendships with Buddhists, both here in the USA and in Asia, are central to my spirituality and my work as a theologian. In a sense, I have never been in dialogue with "Buddhism." All my dialogues have been with actual Buddhists, with all their personal strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures. I am happy to say that, over the years, I have had some skillful teachers who have taught me not only the Dharma, but also taught me new ways to think about Christianity.Was it a difficult book to write?My book was written after years of dialogue with Buddhists and much research and... (shrink)

Philosophy is generally considered to be very abstract. How philosophical and abstract Is ethical thinking In clinical situations? This paper sketches an answer In the form of a case study and offers me the chance for some self-reflection and readers the chance to eavesdrop on that self-reflection. Aside from any Intrinsic worth of the questions and answers, they also have Implications for how clinical ethicists should be educated or trained, i.e., how abstract should one's work in moral philosophy be?

The Wofford symposium was the first of the North American bi-centennial conferences on Hegel. Except for a considerable number of troublesome misprints, the present volume preserves the quality of the meeting, and its editor is to be thanked for bringing off the conference and bringing out the volume. Circumstances led him to substitute a general exposition of Hegelian concepts for an intended introduction to the conference theme. As a result the Introduction is too general for most readers of the volume. (...) The spirited use of examples - an Eskimo, an apprentice, a burglar and Moses - will interest pedagogues who have tried to present Hegel. I am not sure, however, that the student would be made sufficiently aware of Hegel’s departure from ordinary dualistic modes of thought. Thus, we read of ideas as “contents coming before the mind,” of Hegel’s “theory of innate ideas,” of mind “having” its thoughts. I am, moreover, puzzled by assertions which I may not have understood well. For example, I do not know what it means to say that for Hegel the unity of a concept “cannot contain a contradictory content,” ; it seems to me that Hegel demands something like this for the concept as notion. Nor does it seem true to say that “the concept of God… is … an exemplification of the triumph of the monistic principle in Hegel’s philosophy”, since he closes the Encyclopedia with an exposition of the necessity for a Trinitarian conception of the divine. These points also seem to trouble the much more sophisticated study which the editor contributed to the conference itself. Although somewhat removed from the specific theme of the conference, it raises one of the most serious questions in Hegelian studies. In what way can Hegel’s readers judge the truth of his assertions? Mr. Christensen sets out to answer by clearly stating the “formal properties” of Hegel’s dialectic method, so that its results will be falsifiable and thereby meet a test which every historical account must meet. It seems to me, however, that Mr. Christensen has shifted from Hegel’s logic to some alleged “method,” and from his philosophical account of history to an “historical” account. Now this introduces presuppositions alien to Hegel’s enterprise, however compatible they may be with some theory of falsifiability. Moreover, we read of two types of content belonging to the Notion, which look very much like an a priori formal and an a posteriori material content. Furthermore, Mr. Christensen seems to suppose that the dialectic must present only those stages which advance spirit and contain their predecessors in a straightforwardly accumulative way. Towards the end of what is a vigorous paper, he confesses that Hegel’s “blurring” of the distinction between method and notion renders a dialectical account of history in principle not falsifiable. It seems to me, however, that in framing the question - while the author has avoided gross reductions of Hegel to formalism or dualism - his thought has shifted towards Verstand and away from Begriff. He is uneasy with his more abstract approach, and with good cause, for the shift works at cross-purposes to the expressed intent of his analysis. Professor Findlay recognizes the importance of calling Hegel to some kind of critical account, but at the end of his prudent comment he returns to an initial scepticism regarding any single formulation of the vital and revisionary character of the dialectic. While he finds many Hegelian accounts “profoundly illuminating”, he also finds that he “cannot further illuminate this illumination”. (shrink)

Appeal to faith is not uncommon in disputes about the mind-body problem. It is tempting to assume that dualists are more likely than physicalists to presuppose faith in supporting their conclusions, but in recent years physicalists have made claims of faith a standard practice. Of course, their version of faith is peculiar, a faith commitment that my colleague, Brendan Sweetman, has called "the scientific faith argument." This type of reasoning is typified by the remarks of J. J. C. Smart: "...the (...) suggestion I wish to resist is... to say 'I have a yellowish-orange after-image' is to report something irreducibly psychical.... It seems to me that science is increasingly giving us a viewpoint whereby organisms are able to be seen as physico-chemical mechanisms; it seems that even the behavior of man himself will one day be explicable in mechanistic terms". Some physicalists assert their faith stridently and dogmatically. Take Paul M. Churchland, for instance: "The human species and all of its features are the wholly physical outcome of a purely physical process.... If this is the correct account of our origins, then there seems neither need, nor room to fit any nonphysical substances or properties into our theoretical account of ourselves. We are creatures of matter. And we should learn to live with that fact". Of course, these views are mere assertions rather than arguments and they reflect a question-begging procedure. But since naturalism--the view that life and consciousness are nothing but the products of physics, matter in motion--is granted a priori by so many in philosophy today, the petitio principii has become the argument of choice. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A History of Modern Criticism: 1750–1950, Volume 7: German, Russian, and Eastern European Criticism, 1900–1950Eva L. CorredorA History of Modern Criticism: 1750–1950, Volume 7: German, Russian, and Eastern European Criticism, 1900–1950, by René Wellek; xvii & 458 pp. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991, $42.50.The seventh volume of René Wellek’s history of modern criticism may well be the most interesting of his eight-volume monumental oeuvre. Devoted to German, (...) Russian, and Eastern European criticism between 1900 and 1950, it exemplifies most strikingly Wellek’s personal battles with critics who were roughly his contemporaries and closest to his own European background. “I should like to think of my History as ‘elucidatory,’ as not ‘argumentative’ or ‘polemical’” (v, xxi), Wellek writes, but he does not shrink from expressing his own critical perspective usually in a gentlemanly humorous or ironical, but occasionally also quite harsh and stubborn fashion. He insists on the importance of individual value judgments in critical analysis, particularly when they are his own: “I do not believe that... my views and those of my contemporaries will be replaced by completely different assumptions” (“Reflections on my History,” The Attack on Literature, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982, p. 145).Since Wellek rejects the idea of a historical determinism and thinks that “an evolutionary history of criticism must fail” (The Attack, p. 144), he provides less a history than a collection of essays in which he offers succinct appraisals of writers, thinkers and critics both as individuals and as participants in the broader literary movements of the century. He presents “portraits” (p. xv), which he also calls “doxographies” (The Attack, p. 143), containing a vast amount of quotations carefully selected to support the authority of his own views or to let them speak for themselves when he would rather not comment.More than any previous work, this volume embodies Wellek’s will and determination to carry on against all odds even when he can no longer do so on his own. An accident in 1986 left him bedridden and dependent on students and secretaries to help him with his research and writing. He was able to draw on a wealth of previously published essays, some of which had been written more than three decades ago. There are some arguable inaccuracies and shortcomings (his canon includes obscure writers but not Adorno and [End Page 259] again no women writers), and problems with his bibliographies and references. Yet Wellek’s unique talent to assemble in one volume half a century of critical commentary on the literatures of half a dozen different cultures appears intact. So do his well-known critical positions.Among his most interesting essays are those on Spitzer, Auerbach, Ingarden, Bakhtin, and Benjamin, highly erudite men in whose company Wellek enjoys moving. On the other hand, some extraordinarily fertile minds and their enormous influence on the post-1950 critical discourse are often quickly dismissed or treated with unnecessary condescension. Young Roman Jakobson “should be forgotten” (p. 372). Freud’s psychoanalysis “seems forced and mistaken” (p. 79). Heidegger “often ascribes a meaning which seems to me absent in the text itself” (p. 89). Wellek’s low tolerance of any but his own interpretation of Dostoevsky appears repeatedly in this volume: Thomas Mann’s views are called “strange” and “distorted” (p. 12), Freud’s “deeply flawed” (p. 79), Bakhtin’s “simply wrong” (p. 357), and Lukács’s “simply... [those] of Communism” (p. 232). Wellek’s anti-historicism is dramatized in essays on Auerbach and his “historical perspectivism” (p. 132), vs. Spitzer who “always saw that there is a point at which historicism must fail” (p. 144). The vacuum of German criticism during the Nazi period is hauntingly demonstrated. The essays on Walter Benjamin, Bertholt Brecht, and in particular György Lukács reveal best Wellek’s notorious feuds with Marxists. Wellek indulges in a sarcastic critique of the Marxist Lukács’s “doctrinaire limitations” (p. 245) and attempts, wrongfully, to “prove” the Hungarian philosopher’s “exaltation of Socialist Realism” (p. 244). When in the mid-eighties and after much encouragement Wellek finally writes an essay on the early Lukács, he... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A History of Modern Criticism: 1750–1950, Volume 7: German, Russian, and Eastern European Criticism, 1900–1950Eva L. CorredorA History of Modern Criticism: 1750–1950, Volume 7: German, Russian, and Eastern European Criticism, 1900–1950, by René Wellek; xvii & 458 pp. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991, $42.50.The seventh volume of René Wellek’s history of modern criticism may well be the most interesting of his eight-volume monumental oeuvre. Devoted to German, (...) Russian, and Eastern European criticism between 1900 and 1950, it exemplifies most strikingly Wellek’s personal battles with critics who were roughly his contemporaries and closest to his own European background. “I should like to think of my History as ‘elucidatory,’ as not ‘argumentative’ or ‘polemical’” (v, xxi), Wellek writes, but he does not shrink from expressing his own critical perspective usually in a gentlemanly humorous or ironical, but occasionally also quite harsh and stubborn fashion. He insists on the importance of individual value judgments in critical analysis, particularly when they are his own: “I do not believe that... my views and those of my contemporaries will be replaced by completely different assumptions” (“Reflections on my History,” The Attack on Literature, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1982, p. 145).Since Wellek rejects the idea of a historical determinism and thinks that “an evolutionary history of criticism must fail” (The Attack, p. 144), he provides less a history than a collection of essays in which he offers succinct appraisals of writers, thinkers and critics both as individuals and as participants in the broader literary movements of the century. He presents “portraits” (p. xv), which he also calls “doxographies” (The Attack, p. 143), containing a vast amount of quotations carefully selected to support the authority of his own views or to let them speak for themselves when he would rather not comment.More than any previous work, this volume embodies Wellek’s will and determination to carry on against all odds even when he can no longer do so on his own. An accident in 1986 left him bedridden and dependent on students and secretaries to help him with his research and writing. He was able to draw on a wealth of previously published essays, some of which had been written more than three decades ago. There are some arguable inaccuracies and shortcomings (his canon includes obscure writers but not Adorno and [End Page 259] again no women writers), and problems with his bibliographies and references. Yet Wellek’s unique talent to assemble in one volume half a century of critical commentary on the literatures of half a dozen different cultures appears intact. So do his well-known critical positions.Among his most interesting essays are those on Spitzer, Auerbach, Ingarden, Bakhtin, and Benjamin, highly erudite men in whose company Wellek enjoys moving. On the other hand, some extraordinarily fertile minds and their enormous influence on the post-1950 critical discourse are often quickly dismissed or treated with unnecessary condescension. Young Roman Jakobson “should be forgotten” (p. 372). Freud’s psychoanalysis “seems forced and mistaken” (p. 79). Heidegger “often ascribes a meaning which seems to me absent in the text itself” (p. 89). Wellek’s low tolerance of any but his own interpretation of Dostoevsky appears repeatedly in this volume: Thomas Mann’s views are called “strange” and “distorted” (p. 12), Freud’s “deeply flawed” (p. 79), Bakhtin’s “simply wrong” (p. 357), and Lukács’s “simply... [those] of Communism” (p. 232). Wellek’s anti-historicism is dramatized in essays on Auerbach and his “historical perspectivism” (p. 132), vs. Spitzer who “always saw that there is a point at which historicism must fail” (p. 144). The vacuum of German criticism during the Nazi period is hauntingly demonstrated. The essays on Walter Benjamin, Bertholt Brecht, and in particular György Lukács reveal best Wellek’s notorious feuds with Marxists. Wellek indulges in a sarcastic critique of the Marxist Lukács’s “doctrinaire limitations” (p. 245) and attempts, wrongfully, to “prove” the Hungarian philosopher’s “exaltation of Socialist Realism” (p. 244). When in the mid-eighties and after much encouragement Wellek finally writes an essay on the early Lukács, he... (shrink)

Philosophical study of the sufic aspect of Islamic teachings.

In Arabic, hurūf al-ma'ānī (meaning letters) are of the most remarkable factors making the words make sense. One of these letters is harf al-jarr ba. Actually, it is seen that similar studies were conducted for this letter. It has been analysed under the hurūf al-jarr chapters in naḥw/syntax books, in separate works addressing meaning letters and in original studies related to hurūf al-jarr. Additionally, it was specifically scrutinized from various aspects in an original way. While some gave place to the (...) forms it was used in certain surahs of Qur’an, others analysed it in terms of certain meanings it conveyed. However, there are few studies applying the meaning letters and presenting poetry examples from the j̲āhilīyyah poems, which are extremely important in Arabic language and a type of Classical Arabic texts. This study addresses the ba preposition, used with many meanings and functions, about which there were no original studies on the basis of j̲āhilīyyah poetry which has been exemplified in almost all of the works written in the period beginning from the earliest times of Arabic language and literature to this time. This study analyses the place and style of use for the letter ba in muʿallaqāt poems written in j̲āhilīyyah. The aim of this study is to find answers for questions such as: “Being used in poems, which meaning is conveyed more often with ba? In which muʿallaqāt poem was it used more? Are there any poems in which it is used with its literal and figurative meanings simultaneously? Do the poems include all of the meanings this letter adds to expressions like in the classical texts?”. Consisting of two chapters, this study presents brief information regarding the general characteristics of the muʿallaqāt poems and their poets in the first chapter. In the second chapter, the forms this letter is used in poetry are presented. Since it influences meaning, the grammatical aspect of the ba preposition is also analysed when necessary. While this preposition used in poetry is examined, by considering the elucidation of the couplets it was used, the holistic text in which the couplet appeared and the grammatical aspect of this letter, we tried to make a conclusion. In the preliminary analysis about the subject, it was considered that harf al-jarr ba taking place in all muʿallaqāt poems was used with various meanings. In the muʿallaqāt poems, the most common meaning which harf al-jarr ba conveys is as adverb of place. It is thought that, this stems from the names of places which are frequently seen in muʿallaḳāt poems and for the expression style of harf al-jarr ba. The real meaning with which this letter is used is addition. Being used with numerous figurative meanings, this preposition is seen to reflect its literal meaning as well as these ones. For this reason, it can be understood how a meaning letter can be used both in its literal meaning and the secondary/figurative meaning. It is understood that harf al-jarr ba was used for a total of two hundred and forty-three times in muʿallaḳāt poems with its various meanings. With its many meanings, this letter was used with thirteen different meanings in muʿallaqāt poems with meanings such as addition, causative, referencing, giving reason, conversation, adverb, valuing, reciprocation, responding, escalation, indefinite, oath and reduplication. The muʿallaqā in which harf al-jarr ba was used the most is that of Ṭarafa b. al-Abd’s. (shrink)