Work on causation in psychopathology often emphasizes variation in the causes, but variation in what is to be explained further complicates matters. Focusing on the protean nature of psychopathology, this chapter explores different ways classificatory variation is generated. For example, choices about what features of disorders to foreground and background can produce variation. The chapter also examines, from the perspective of scientific conventionalism, how classificatory decisions made at choice points partly constitute what is classified, but not in the sense of making it up. In contrast to the view that conventions are neither true nor false and thus isolated from the domain of facts, the chapter argues that scientific conventions are implemented to promote the discovery of facts. Scientific conventions must also answer to conceptual and factual constraints. The chapter concludes by looking at how classificatory choices can produce different versions of a psychiatric, which may also result in variations in causal models across those versions. In agreement with the ideas articulated by Putnam, the chapter argues that we cannot divide the language of psychopathology into a part that describes disorders as they are in themselves and a part that contains our conceptual contributions to what we know about disorders.

Berlin sees the history of philosophy as a history not just of the struggle to find answers to certain questions, but (because of the distinctive nature of these questions) to find the right means of framing them in the first place, as well as of determining the answers’ viability. He concentrates on how Enlightenment philosophers, thrilled by the success of science, sought to apply scientific procedures to ‘all that related to the social life of men’, and he focusses on the variously implemented theory of ‘ideas’, in which ‘the mind was treated as if it were a box containing mental equivalents of the Newtonian particles’. This chapter will argue that the Enlightenment philosophers not only envisaged the mind as a container for ideas, but ideas themselves as containers of ‘ideas’ in the other sense. Hume especially seems to assume that we can use empirical observation (by means of ‘the inner eye’) to discover how the mind functions – that we introspect the idea-particles moved by a Newton-like force of attraction while simultaneously observing the sensory impressions and concepts that they represent.

This chapter takes a postcolonial-ecocritical perspective on a particular mode of empire referred to as ecological-agrarian imperialism. It examines aesthetic articulations of colonial agrarianism with a special view to James Fenimore Cooper’s Littlepage trilogy and The Crater, which are read in the context of Indian Removal and the Anti-Rent conflict in the Hudson River area. It argues that Cooper registers a remarkable critical awareness of the historical origins of the sociocultural conjunctions of soil depletion, food scarcity, biodiversity reduction, and colonial capitalism. Cooper’s works can help us think through the interrelated ecological challenges of our own time such as climate change, soil degradation, and biodiversity loss, and to reflect on utopian possibilities and roads not taken when the social and economic foundations of the United States were laid out.

Kant shares with Locke the project of establishing the limits of human knowledge. But they execute this project differently. Locke is primarily concerned to establish the limits of empirical knowledge based on the limits of human sensibility, while Kant is concerned to establish the limits to claims of metaphysical knowledge based precisely on the necessity of sensibility as well as understanding for all human cognition. Kant places no a priori constraints on the possible refinement or extension of our senses and thus no particular limits on empirical knowledge, but instead derives the limits of metaphysical knowledge from his transcendental analysis of the conditions of the possibility of knowledge, or his transcendental theory of experience. But his delimitation of human knowledge depends on his inference to transcendental idealism from his transcendental theory of experience, by means of an argument that is criticized in this chapter as well as in Chapter 5.

Victorian literature translated the systemic organization of extraction-based globalization into aesthetic structure. This chapter shows how literary forms like the multiplot novel and lyric poem strained and changed shape to account for the world-spanning mechanisms of imperialism, colonialism, and an extraction-based fossil capitalism that reshaped “the environment” across the nineteenth-century British imperium. Describing a “supply-chain sublime,” it shows how the improvement and development valorized by John Stuart Mill (and before him, John Locke) had material corollaries in scarred and abandoned zones that rarely focalize canonical works. Seen in this context, exhibits like Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897), George Eliot’s Middlemarch (1871–2), Anthony Trollope’s The Eustace Diamonds (1873), and Matthew Arnold’s “Dover Beach” (1867) recode extractive globalization into signals we can detect, but only with an “environmental” reading practice that construes ecological matters to inhere in sociopolitical conditions, and that sees environmental issues as finally moral ones too.

This chapter traces a debate among British empiricists in the early modern period about our capacity to form abstract ideas. Locke holds that our ability to form abstract ideas explains our capacity for general thought and our linguistic understanding. However, Berkeley and Hume insist that abstract ideas are impossible and are left to try to explain these capacities in other ways. Roughly fifty years after Hume’s death, Mary Shepherd attempted to prove the existence of an external world in a way that revived this dispute, claiming that our ability to have abstract ideas is much more fundamental to our knowledge of the world and ourselves than even Locke recognized.

Descartes and many of his followers sought to overcome the scholastic Aristotelian tradition. This attitude is also visible in their choice of terminology: while late scholastic philosophers described the operations of the intellect in terms of concepts, Descartes and many philosophers after him described our cognitive activities in terms of ideas. This leads to at least three questions: (1) What did late scholastic authors take concepts and ideas to be? (2) Why did Descartes prefer to articulate his theory of thought in terms of ideas rather than concepts? And (3) how did Descartes’s choice to articulate his theory of thought in terms of ideas shape his conception of thought? In this chapter I seek to answer these questions with reference especially to Francisco Suárez and Descartes, but also more briefly to John Locke and Nicholas Malebranche, who developed Descartes’s theory of thought in terms of ideas in interestingly different ways.

Chapter 1 examines how philosophical arguments and legal frameworks offered important means by which eighteenth-century Britons could understand ownership and possession. It begins by exploring the work of John Locke and the central role it played in shaping conceptions of property in the eighteenth century. The chapter then moves on to explore the changing legal frameworks which sought to define how people (including enslaved people, wives, servants and apprentices), dogs, watches and financial instruments might be understood as possessions and property in this period. It finds that through the course of these changes the law often remained ambiguous as to the nature of property and the protections the legal system might offer. Such ambiguity was significant in opening other spaces which shaped how property and possession were understood.

This essay examines first the understanding of sex equality by the philosophic forebears of the US Declaration of Independence, Thomas Hobbes and John Locke. Hobbes was the more thoroughgoing egalitarian of the two. He insisted that men were not inherently superior to women, either in strength or prudence. Locke by contrast wrote that in the conjugal union, even in nature, while the union by mutual compact could be limited to whatever was needed for raising children, still, because of the need to have some authority stronger and more able, men were entitled to rule the household. Despite this public claim that men are the “abler” sex, Locke’s private writings showed him to be much more gender egalitarian than Jefferson himself.

This chapter surveys associationist theories of emotion leading up to Darwin’s Expression. These theories analyze emotions as sequences of thoughts, feelings, and actions, linked together by principles of association. Thomas Hobbes contributes to this tradition the idea that emotions can be analyzed as “trains of thoughts.” John Locke contributes the idea that these trains are connected by the “association of ideas.” David Hume contributes the idea that association can occur via contiguity, resemblance, or cause and effect. David Hartley puts these ideas together to present the first full-fledged associationist theory of mind and emotion. Harley’s ideas are developed further by Joseph Priestley, Erasmus Darwin (Charles’s grandfather), Thomas Brown, James Mill, Alexander Bain, and Herbert Spencer, among others. This tradition in the philosophy of emotion has never before been described or analyzed.

As part of the major premise of the Declaration’s syllogism and of a general theory of rightful government, it is unlikely that the main ideas in the Declaration’s second paragraph exist as separate, free-floating nuggets of indeterminate meaning. My task in this essay is to reconstruct the theory of rightful government contained in that paragraph in order to progress toward fixing meaning for those ideas – equality, rights, liberty, and others – that have been so important to the self-understanding and political aspirations of Americans from 1776 on.

In the West, liberty and equality emerged as individual rights from theological speculations about the nature of God and human beings, and the relationship of human beings to each other and to God. It was a natural theology in which God is beneficent and glorifies in what God has created, having made a world in which it is possible for human beings to pursue happiness. Derived primarily from the writings of John Locke, that natural theology was embraced and expanded upon by Thomas Jefferson and articulated in the Declaration of Independence. The Declaration’s natural theology foundation holds that liberty serves God’s purpose: preservation of creation and flourishing in the pursuit of happiness. And liberty is equal liberty because, as Locke’s philosophy and Jefferson’s Declaration proclaim, human beings’ equality is more than a right; it is a fact of creation. For Locke and Jefferson, and for the “American mind” of the founding era, the theology underlying the Declaration implies duties to one another. Without such obligations beyond the self, egoism would lead to confusion as everyone would assert their own interests, and God’s purpose would not be realized.

As unprecedented as the Declaration was, it was not without intellectual antecedents. The Declaration interacted with and built upon recent expressions of European Enlightenment political philosophy in its focus on “Nature and Nature’s God,” and in its reliance upon the normative principles of “laws of Nature” as well as natural or “unalienable” rights. European Enlightenment political philosophers themselves stood in complex and varied relationships with their ancient and medieval predecessors; sometimes adding to, sometimes transforming, and sometimes rejecting these preceding ideas. The Declaration brilliantly navigates this complex web of intellectual antecedents by treating the ideas of laws of nature, natural rights, the social contract, and republicanism in such a way that the points of tension between their different interpretations are minimized and subsumed within a shared understanding of the importance of nature for political life. In so doing, the Declaration provides an intriguing hint of how the deep fault lines between these political philosophical traditions might ultimately be bridged. The Declaration’s succinct statement of political principles may be viewed as a transformative distillation of a few of its most important European antecedents.

Many of us might imagine that it was the early modern period during which an individual right to property was first conceived as something that we could claim against all other people and against the state itself. The reason we could do so is because such a right was grounded in natural law and therefore preceded the creation of political society. Indeed, the state, according to this account, was created to protect such rights. We would probably have John Locke in mind as the basis for this argument and it is true that such an account of the right to property could be derived from his work. However, Locke’s understanding of property was not typical in the early modern period. Instead, it was far more common for early modern political theorists to see the right to property as something that was established by civil society and therefore completely dependent upon the laws of the state.

This chapter returns to the establishment of the British Museum, focusing on Sloane’s prints and drawings. It looks at his categorisation of visual material and the subsequent division of that material, focussing on the historical distinctions between ‘miniatura’ and ‘prints’ and the importance of something being framed or unframed. Taking examples of items which have been categorised as different things across the spectrum of printed images to printed text, the chapter ultimately argues that provenance is inherently paratextual and that how something is presented changes what it can be. A set of drawings initially owned by John Locke, now found between the British Library and the British Museum, demonstrates the forces of arbitrary chance and individual decisions on the subsequent survival and classification of an object. Finally, the chapter considers the importance of paper within a library, as a determining feature both materially and metaphorically,

This chapter examines how the theological ideas discussed in Chapter 5 were successfully disseminated throughout English society. To do this it examines the religious split between the established Church of England and non-conformity. The development of the theology self-love, happiness, and interest is examined in the writings of the enormously influential philosopher and theologian Richard Cumberland. It then discusses how this evolved into Latitudinarianism, and examines printed sermons as they commented on these ethical concepts, as well as on consumption and worldly goods. The writings of the Anglican ministers Joseph Butler and Josiah Tucker are examined to show how these ideas became directly linked to economic thought. The concurrent development of non-conformist theology relating to the same concepts is traced through the writings of John Locke on the mind, and the dairy of the student lawyer Dudley Ryder. The Third Earl of Shaftesbury and his theory of polite sociability is also investigated to show how it provided a less austere means to disseminate Locke’s psychology of the mind. Central to this investigation will be the process by which individual selves were able to become comfortable with trusting new institutions by using the concept of interest as a form of commitment.

This chapter discusses the early modern transformation of the law. By the end of the eighteenth century, the law of ownership was firmly centered on land and the conception of the state was becoming firmly territorial, while the nineteenth century witnessed the abolition of the lawful private ownership of human beings. The chapter traces the rise of an early modern conception of property, which held that acquisition was primarily acquisition of land, and that it was established through cultivation rather than mere occupation. It shows how the venerable law of use rights found a home under a new doctrinal rubric, eminent domain, and discusses the transformation of the ancient law of enslavement through war. The chapter draws on the work of historians of the state who study the rise of a territorial understanding of sovereignty. It emphasizes the long legal history behind the disappearance of lawful private enslavement.

This chapter discusses the early modern transformation of the law. By the end of the eighteenth century, the law of ownership was firmly centered on land and the conception of the state was becoming firmly territorial, while the nineteenth century witnessed the abolition of the lawful private ownership of human beings. The chapter traces the rise of an early modern conception of property, which held that acquisition was primarily acquisition of land, and that it was established through cultivation rather than mere occupation. It shows how the venerable law of use rights found a home under a new doctrinal rubric, eminent domain, and discusses the transformation of the ancient law of enslavement through war. The chapter draws on the work of historians of the state who study the rise of a territorial understanding of sovereignty. It emphasizes the long legal history behind the disappearance of lawful private enslavement.

This contribution surveys the essays in political economy that Hume began to publish in 1752, with particular attention to his thinking about money. The essays are presented as, in part, extensions of the natural history of property and government that Hume began to sketch in A Treatise of Human Nature. But they were also carefully calibrated interventions in the political discourse of trade and finance prominent in British politics since the seventeenth century. Hume’s political economy can be situated in a range of British and European intellectual and political contexts. This chapter pays particular attention to his recurrent engagement with John Locke’s extensive writings on money, trade and taxation, which served Hume as a foil in developing his own positions. There is, it will be suggested, a deep connection between Hume’s celebrated critique of Locke’s account of the original contract and his rejection of Locke’s search for an invariable monetary standard.