In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Psychological CourageDaniel Putman (bio)AbstractBeginning with Aristotle philosophers have analyzed physical courage and moral courage in great detail. However, philosophy has never addressed the type of courage involved in facing the fears generated by our habits and emotions. This essay introduces the concept of psychological courage and argues that it deserves to be recognized in ethics as a form of courage. I examine three broad areas of psychological problems: destructive (...) habits; irrational anxieties; and psychological servitude in which one individual emotionally controls another. Psychological courage is the strength to confront and work through these problems. Such courage involves facing our deep-seated fear of psychological instability. I conclude that the development of psychological courage is essential to the well-being of many people.Keywordscourage, Aristotle, habits, dependency, rashness, cowardice, anxiety disorders, patienceThe virtue of courage exhibits different forms in human life. Types of courage can be broadly differentiated in terms of the fear which must be faced and the goal to be attained. Two forms of courage have been discussed at some length in the history of ethics. “Physical courage” is characterized by overcoming a fear of death or physical harm. The goals to be achieved by its exercise are traditionally defined by society or by the requirements of survival. The paradigmatic example is Aristotle’s (1987) brave soldier who faces death to defend his city (1115a25–35). Another example would be bravely defending self and family against a threat from nature such as a flood or dangerous carnivore. The second form, “moral courage,” also has some allusions in Aristotle (1115a12–13; 1115b1–2), but Plato’s portrayal of Socrates is in many ways the archetype for moral courage in Western philosophy. While Socrates is also said to have displayed physical courage in defending Athens, it is his fearlessness in defending a deeply held greater moral good against society which has inspired untold numbers of Plato’s readers, from the Stoics to today’s students. 1 In moral courage the major fear is loss of ethical integrity or authenticity, but moral courage is also tied to dealing with social disapproval (Martin 1986, ch. 4; Walton 1986). The person confronting her peer group over a racist joke displays moral courage. In acting courageously the individual maintains moral integrity while at the same time overcoming the fear of being rejected by friends. Other examples abound: the whistle-blower facing ostracism from colleagues for calling attention to injustice in the workplace, or the Quaker or Buddhist protesting against a manufacturer of armaments. Examples of physical and moral courage often overlap. Gandhi (as well as Socrates) exhibited moral courage while facing death, and a soldier in battle may have to deal with peer rejection of his heroic actions. However, the distinction, while imprecise, does speak usefully to quite different forms of courageous experience. [End Page 1]In this paper I want to introduce a third form of courage almost never discussed in the literature. Best called “psychological courage,” it is a form of the virtue which millions of human beings have to possess and exercise on a regular basis. The fear to be faced is not usually that of physical harm, nor is it fear of social ostracism. Nor is loss of moral integrity a major concern. The fear centers around a loss of psychological stability. I speak of the courage it takes to face our irrational fears and anxieties, those passions which, in Spinoza’s terms, hold us in bondage. These can range from habits and compulsions to phobias. Aristotle would have classified many of these under lack of temperance. A drinking habit or an irrational fear of open spaces reflects a lack of proper balance regarding the pleasures of life. But facing and working through these habits or anxieties can involve courage for several reasons. First, to admit the problem is to face the possibility of being stigmatized by society. In this sense psychological courage has some similarities to moral courage. Second, a great deal of pain, physical and psychological, can be involved in confronting the anxiety or changing the habit, and the individual knows this beforehand. Third, and most significant to this form of courage, the stability... (shrink)

The concept of tragedy has been central to much of human history; yet, twentieth-century philosophers have done little to analyze what tragedy means outside of the theater. Utilizing a framework from MacIntyre’s After Virtue, I first discuss what tragedy is for human beings and some of its ethical implications. Then I analyze how we use the concept with regard to nonhumans. Although the typical application of the concept to animals is thoroughly anthropocentric, I argue first that the concept of tragedy (...) can be applied directly to nonhumans (a) because the loss of potential for some nonhumans may be as a great or greater than loss of potential for some humans to whom the concept applies and (b) because tragedy depends on what is valued and, for those creatures that do not conceptualize death, the destruction of the present moment through pain and suffeling is the ultimate loss, and second that self-awareness in the human sense is not necessary for tragedy. (shrink)

In ‘Virtue and Character’ A. D. M. Walker claims that kindness and justice are incompatible in certain important ways and that a person can be kind or just without possessing the other virtue. Walker argues that virtues must lead to ‘effective and intelligent action’ and that a virtue ceases to exist if ‘it leads to violation of the minimal requirements of any other virtue’. On this view kindness and justice function independently to produce effective action. Kindness requires a direct caring (...) for the individual in particular circumstances, while justice involves a commitment to impartiality that abstracts from an individual's situation. Walker argues that, as long as the minimal requirements of other virtues are met, one can be kind without weighing considerations of justice. He cites with approval kind behaviour which human beings learn as young children. Such behaviour may be a deeply engrained personality trait, and the individual passing through different situations in life may have no need to consider questions of justice. ‘He will merely need to be able to recognize and respond to certain types of considerations as overriding the values promoted by kindness’. (shrink)

Gewirth has argued that rights are justified by their role in the “generic features” of action. Simply by virtue of being a purposive agent capable of voluntary action, one must accept the logic that all persons with such characteristics have certain moral rights. But the language of rights theories does not deal with the process by which rights are acknowledged. How do we go about recognizing those characteristics of human life that underlie the logic Gewirth claims is necessary? By what (...) process do I recognize, for example, your “right” to be told the truth? Acknowledging someone else's right involves two elements: a recognition of the content of the right and a recognition of the binding power of the right which is experienced by the agent as a sense of obligation. Analyzing the process by which these two factors are recognized and examining the foundation for that process will clarify some of the assumptions utilized in rights theories. (shrink)

David Pugmire has argued that secularists can genuinely appreciate religious music because of our imaginative powers combined with the 'Platonic' nature of the emotions expressed in such music. I argue that Pugmire is wrong on both counts. Religious music is 'Platonic' not because it is subject to levels of imagination but because it has a definite object which makes imaginative readings inferior. Moreover, since religious music does have a clear object taken by the believer as real, a gap exists that (...) cannot be bridged by the imagination of the secularist, even imagination of the emotional 'last instance'. (shrink)

Christian Miller's book makes extensive use of the data on human behavior and motivation from psychological studies in the last 50-60 years and applies that information to the analysis of character. The book begins with helping behavior and the analysis is then generalized to other character traits. Miller argues that an analysis of human character as having Mixed Character Traits is superior to the analysis of character using the traditional virtues. The review highlights the great value of combining the research (...) into one place for the purposes of ethics and Miller's initial analysis of the data on helping. But the review questions the usefulness of Mixed Character Traits as a descriptor of human character and its value as a heuristic device in ethics. (shrink)

Christopher Johnson argued in 'Reconsidering the Ad Hominem' that, in certain exceptional cases, appealing to ad hominem considerations is logically justifiable. My argument is that ad hominem considerations are no different than other evidential considerations. The evidential links may be strong, weak or nonexistent but there is nothing special in itself about considering ad hominem factors when weighing evidence. Like all the informal fallacies, simply because a claim has the signature of being 'ad hominem' does not make it irrelevant. The (...) apparent originality of Johnson's point lies in equivocating 'ad hominem fallacy' with 'ad hominem considerations'.It is not looking to personal characteristics or situations that in itself is illogical. It is when those features have no evidential link to the point at hand. (shrink)

The concept of tragedy has been central to much of human history; yet, twentieth-century philosophers have done little to analyze what tragedy means outside of the theater. Utilizing a framework from MacIntyre’s After Virtue, I first discuss what tragedy is for human beings and some of its ethical implications. Then I analyze how we use the concept with regard to nonhumans. Although the typical application of the concept to animals is thoroughly anthropocentric, I argue first that the concept of tragedy (...) can be applied directly to nonhumans (a) because the loss of potential for some nonhumans may be as a great or greater than loss of potential for some humans to whom the concept applies and (b) because tragedy depends on what is valued and, for those creatures that do not conceptualize death, the destruction of the present moment through pain and suffeling is the ultimate loss, and second that self-awareness in the human sense is not necessary for tragedy. (shrink)

It is well-observed that undergraduate students frequently profess ethical relativism, but they also frequently defend ethical egoism. The author suggests four reasons why ethical egoism is so common among undergraduates: since college students’ identity is in flux, a normative framework in which the self may be appealed to as a foundation for value offers a sense of security; most college students have relatively few obligations beyond themselves; media and advertising tend to promote and reward egoism; egoism is easy and affords (...) students the appearance of being non-judgmental and tolerant. Nevertheless, the author notes, even the most diehard egoist holds the belief that their ego works to realize some potential, which means they are in at least a minimal sense committed to something beyond themselves. Virtue theory is especially useful in exploiting this commitment to show student egoists the plausibility of non-egoistic normative viewpoints. Discussing the examples of true friendship, courage, generosity, honest self-presentation, eudaemonia, and temperance, the author explains how virtue theory can articulate values which the student egoist is committed to but which cannot be satisfactorily accounted for by egoistic frameworks. The author concludes by addressing the importance of group discussion for lending concreteness to the lessons of virtue theory. (shrink)

Millions of Americans, as well as millions in Europe, have used or will use a library established by Andrew Carnegie. In his lifetime Carnegie gave the equivalent of several billion dollars in today's money to establish 1,689 public libraries in the United States, Hawaii and Puerto Rico. Moreover, 660 libraries in Britain and Ireland, 125 in Canada, 17 in New Zealand, 12 in South Africa and scattered others around the world exist because of this man. 1 And this does not (...) include the extensive positive influence of the foundations and grants established by Carnegie. Aristotle would likely have called him ‘magnificent’. Carnegie had the virtue beyond mere generosity available only to those with the means and position to benefit the polis on a grand scale. Unlike generosity, magnificence involves what Irwin has called ‘the judgment and tact that are needed for large benefactions. 2 Whether ‘magnificent’ or ‘generous’ is a better term for Carnegie's character is not my major concern. Carnegie's recent biographer simply uses ‘generous’. So, for the remainder of this paper, I will use ‘generous’. 3 But was Carnegie, in fact, generous? This paper will explore both the definition of the virtue and its application to Andrew Carnegie. (shrink)