Some theories of justice hold that individuals placed in fortunate circumstances through no merit or choice of their own are morally obligated to aid individuals placed in unfortunate circumstances through no fault or choice of their own. In these theories what are usually regarded as obligations of benevolence are reinterpreted as strict obligations of justice. A closely related view is that the institutions of a society should be arranged in a way that gives priority to helping people placed in unfortunate circumstances through no fault or choice of their own. Any theory of this type needs a way of assessing individuals’ circumstances to determine who is fortunate and who is unfortunate.

I shall argue that the standard for assessing people's circumstances to determine what they owe and are owed according to distributive justice should be the welfare or well-being level that they can attain, given their circumstances. This claim, that the ‘currency of justice’ should be welfare, has attracted criticisms that some have thought decisive. My counterclaim is that if we adopt an objective account of welfare and properly accommodate concerns about individual responsibility, the criticisms can be drained of their force.

According to a popular contemporary contractualist account of moral motivation, the most plausible explanation for why those who are concerned with morality take moral reasons seriously — why these reasons strike those who are moved by them with a particular inescapability — is that they stem from, and are grounded by, a desire to be able to justify one's actions to others on grounds they could not reasonably reject. My belief that an action is immoral, on this account, triggers this desire, this source of my moral motivation, and consequently I am moved to refrain from such an action by the fundamental desire that my actions be adequately justifiable. Furthermore, it is this desire to which contractualism appeals in its account of the wrong-making feature of certain actions: an action is wrong if it would violate a set of rules which no one could reasonably reject.

There seem, however, to be two general worries about this picture: one, that the range of its application is too extensive; the other, that the range of its application is too limited.

Few arguments in contemporary philosophy have had more influence than Harry Frankfurt's ‘Alternate Possibilities and Moral Responsiblity.’ In that famous paper Frankfurt noted that all parties to the traditional debate about the compatibility of free will and moral responsibility with determinism had subscribed to a common assumption. They had assumed the truth of something Frankfurt called ‘the Principle of Alternate Possibilities,’ which he expressed as follows:

In the traditional debate incompatibilists argued that if determinism is true, then no one can ever do otherwise, while compatibilists argued that there is a morally relevant sense in which even a deterministic agent can do otherwise. Frankfurt proposed to show that PAPis false, thereby undercutting the traditional debate.

Along with such criteria as truth, comprehensiveness, explanatory adequacy, and simplicity (as well as others), philosophers of science usually also mention predictive accuracy as a criterion of theory choice. But while philosophers have devoted attention to the problem of the logical structure of scientific prediction, it seems that little attention has been devoted to the difficult question of what precisely constitutes predictive accuracy, at least ‘predictive accuracy’ in the sense in which I will discuss it here.

I will in this paper discuss the role of predictive accuracy in theory choice. But before that, I will address the problem of what constitutes predictive accuracy more generally and independently of its role in theory choice. I will approach the problem of predictive accuracy from a pragmaticpoint of view, and then try to assess the role of predictive accuracy in theory choice from that perspective.

Method may be second only to substance-dualism as the best-known among Descartes's enthusiasms. But knowing that Descartes wants to promote good method is one thing; knowing what exactly he wants to promote is another. Two views seem fairly widespread. The first rests on the claim that Descartes endorses a purely procedural picture of reason, so that right reasoning is a matter of proprieties of operation, rather than (say) respect for its objects. On this view, a method for regulating our reason would offer general rules of procedure, abstracted as much as possible from the content of particular problems. Second is the view that Descartes maintains what we might call an ‘intellectualist’ approach to method, one that restricts right reasoning to operations internal to the mind, and allows the use of external bodily resources (such as sensory perceptions, activities in the corporeal imagination, or written notes) only as initial inputs or as helpful props— convenient, but marginal to the procedure and readily eliminated from it.

Nothing can kill a promising research program in ethics more quickly than a plausible argument to the effect that it is committed to a morally repellent consequence. It is especially troubling when a theory one favors is jeopardized in this way. I have this worry about Harry Frankfurt's theory of free will, autonomous agency and moral responsibility, for there is a very plausible argument to the effect that aspects of his view commit him to a version of the late Stoic thesis that acting freely is a matter of ‘making do,’ that is, of bringing oneself to be motivated to act in accordance with the feasible, so that personal liberation can be achieved by resigning and adapting oneself to necessity. In this paper I try to determine whether the theory does in fact commit Frankfurt (and adherents like me) to this result and, if so, what can be done to prevent it.

The epistemic basing relation is the relation which must hold between a person's belief and the adequate reasons for holding that belief if the belief is to be epistemically justified by those reasons. Although the basing relation is a fundamental component of any adequate theory of epistemic justification, it has received scant attention in the literature. In this paper, I propose a novel causal analysis of the basing relation, one which helps to characterize an intemalist element which, I shall argue, is required of any successful account of epistemic justification, and which confirms current trends away from coherentist and reliabilist theories of justification.

It is thought by some philosophers that certain arguments developed by Peter Strawson in Individuals show that Derek Parfit's claim in Reasons and Persons that experiences can be referred to without referring to persons is incoherent. In this paper I argue that Parfit's claim is not threatened by these arguments.

‘God needs no instruments to act,’ Malebranche writes in Search 6.2.3; “it suffices that He wills in order that a thing be, because it is a contradiction that He should will and that what He wills should not happen. Therefore, His power is His will” (450). After nearly identical language in Treatise 1.12, Malebranche writes that “[God's] wills are necessarily efficacious … His power differs not at all from His will” (116). God exercises His causal power, here, via His volitions; what He causes depends not merely on the fact that He wills, but specifically (since volitions are intentional states) on the content of His volitions, on “what He wills.” Yet despite the obviously key role the ordinary notion of volitional content plays for Malebranche, recent writers have paid surprisingly little attention either to it or its exegetical implications. I hope partly to rectify this situation here.

The plan of this paper is this:

• (I) to borrow current work in the philosophy of mind to sketch the notion of an incomplete volition, i.e. one whose content is ‘incomplete’ in a sense to be explained;

• (II) to note that Malebranche accepts and uses something like this notion;

Theories of rational choice focus on the question of how to choose what to do. They are, that is, concerned with the selection of one among a set of possible actions. Furthermore, they tell us how to make such a choice rationally. They accomplish this aspect of their task by telling us how to choose ‘in order to achieve our aims as well as possible.’

Theories of reasonable deliberation, as I describe them in this paper, analyze a different domain of reasoning in the service of action. First, their subject matter is the deliberation that leads to action, rather than the final selection of the action itself. Second, they ask about the intrinsic character of a deliberative path, rather than its likely outcome. That is, they are theories of the reasonableness of deliberation, rather than its rationality. To see the distinctiveness of this theoretical domain, it helps to approach it by backing away from the domain of rational choice theories one step at a time.

Albert Casullo has argued that the propositions of arithmetic could be experientially disconfirmed, with the help of an invented scenario wherein experiences involving our standard counting procedures, as applied to collections of objects, seem to indicate that 2+2≠4. Our best response to this scenario would be, Casullo suggests, to accept the results of our standard counting procedures as correct, and give up our standard arithmetical theory. This suggestion, interestingly enough, is not as bizarre as it initially appears. But indeed a problem lies in the assumption, common to Casullo’s scenario and to his suggested resolution, that our arithmetical theory might possibly be independent of our standard counting procedures. Here I show that this assumption is incoherent, whether the independence at issue is supposed to make room for the genuine possibility that 2+2≠4, or the merely epistemic possibility that we could rationally believe that 2+2≠4: given our standard counting procedures, then (on pain of irrationality) our arithmetical theory follows.

We have conflicting pre-philosophical intuitions about what it means ‘to be true to ourselves.’ On the one hand, autonomy and authenticity seem closely connected to the lucidity of reflectiveness; on the other, they seem tightly interwoven with the immediacy of unreflectiveness. As opposed to a ‘Platonic’ intuition about the inferiority of the unexamined life, we have an equally strong ‘Nietzschean’ intuition about the corrosiveness of the examined life. Broadly speaking, the first intuition is more akin to the tradition of the Enlightenment, and the second, more to that of Romanticism; the one is reminiscent of Descartes and Hume, the other of Rousseau and Herder.

The use of the technical term ‘autonomy’ and the concomitant term ‘self’ is primarily limited to philosophy, while in daily life ‘freedom’ and ‘person,’ respectively, are used instead. Unfortunately, in their deployment of these technical terms philosophers have generally failed to acknowledge the two modes of ‘being true to ourselves’ associated with the Enlightenment and Romanticism, for they usually employ the concept of autonomy in a unitary way.

According to cultural nationalism, members of groups sharing a common history and societal culture have a fundamental, morally significant interest in adhering to their culture and in sustaining it for generations. Moreover, this interest should be protected by states. I shall examine three theses included in this statement. The first, the adherence thesis, relates to the basic interest people have in adhering to their national culture. The second thesis is historical. It concerns the basic interest people have in recognizing and protecting the multigenerational dimension of their culture. The third thesis, a political one, holds that the interests people have in living their lives within their culture and in sustaining this culture for generations should be protected politically. Some contemporary writers who support a liberal version of cultural nationalism do so by arguing that people have an interest in culture mainly because it is a prerequisite for their freedom and also because it is a component of their identity.

In the course of a lengthy interview, Descartes is reported to have claimed that ‘the axiom is common and true: the effect is similar to the cause’(AT 5:156). There has been much discussion in the recent secondary literature about whether Descartes’ various causal principles require a sort of resemblance between cause and effect that rules out the interaction of substances as distinct in nature as mind and body. However, it is clear from the record of the Descartes interview that the axiomatic principle that effects are similar to their causes- call this the ‘Similarity Principle'- applies primarily to the case of God's production of created substances, and of created minds in particular. This record thus provides one reason for the focus here on that particular case. Another is that a consideration of this case broaches difficulties for the Similarity Principle that have an interesting though somewhat neglected role in the history of Cartesianism.

Does it matter morally whether a bomber who kills civilians in a raid intends to do so as a means to weakening the enemy or merely foresees he will do so in his attempt to destroy a munitions factory? Does it matter morally whether a nurse who gives a terminally ill patient a lethal dose of painkiller intends to do so as a means to ending the patient's life or merely foresees she will do so in her attempt to alleviate the patient's pain? Those who answer affirmatively rest moral weight on the notion of intending to do something as a means. But giving an adequate analysis of this notion has proved difficult. In ‘Intending as a Means,’ Kwong-Loi Shun criticizes two attempts at analyzing this notion, one which he attributes to Jonathan Bennett and the other which he attributes to Thomas Nagel. Shun thinks both Bennett's and Nagel's analyses identify intending to bring about S as a means with aiming at S and offers examples which he believes show ‘an agent need not aim at what he intends to bring about.’ In making his objection to Bennett and Nagel, Shun introduces his own criterion for intending as a means.

Recent moral philosophy has been characterized by some serious attempts to show that both Kantian and utilitarian moralities leave us with insufficient room to pursue our personal projects and relationships. These moralities have been charged with demanding a kind of impartiality that leaves us with too little space for developing ourselves and our friendships, family relations, communities, and nations in the ways best suited for us. Critics claim these theories implausibly maintain that if our personal relationships and affinities do not further the ends of moral duty or maximum utility, they are of no value and hence we lack reason to devote ourselves to them. In what follows, I will assume that a conception of morality would indeed be implausible if it were to demand impartiality in the strong sense that it would be impermissible to favor our own projects and ambitions, to care especially about the welfare of certain persons rather than others, and sometimes to give preference to those we care most about, even when we could benefit strangers more.

Leading accounts of personal autonomy are content-neutral: they insist that there are no a priori constraints on the content of the desires or values that might motivate an autonomous action. In Gerald Dworkin's provocative words, ‘the autonomous person can be a tyrant or a slave, a saint or sinner, a rugged individualist or champion of fraternity, a leader or follower.’ ‘There is nothing in the idea of autonomy that precludes a person from saying, “I want to be the kind of person who acts at the command of others. I define myself as a slave and endorse those attitudes and preferences. My autonomy consists in being a slave.” ’ John Christman similarly claims that ‘any desire, no matter how evil, self-sacrificing, or slavish it might be’ could be autonomously formed. The same seems to apply to Harry Frankfurt's view, that actions are autonomous if they stem from second-order volitions that reflect what the agent cares about; it puts no constraints on the content of what a person might care about. All of these accounts hold that the mere content of a desire or value is never sufficient to rule out that it might be autonomously acted on by someone.