Accounts of moral reasoning have tended either to ignore the differences in what men count as good reasons for their moral judgments, or, in emphasizing these differences, to imply that anything whatsoever can count as a moral reason. This book shows that both of these positions rest on a mistaken assumption, and by rejecting this assumption brings out important features of moral discourse. Although moral disagreement is seen to be far more radical than empirical disagreement, a framework of agreement is (...) shown to be a precondition of moral discourse, and even of the possibility of individual moral decision. (shrink)

It is by no means unusual in works of philosophy for writers to make use of examples from literature or to bemoan the lack of literary examples in the work of other philosophers. Nor is it unusual for philosophers to write substantial tomes without ever mentioning any work of literature or to condemn the use of literary examples as a threat to clarity of thought. This contradiction in practice and principle might lead us to suspect that what we are here (...) dealing with is at least to some extent a philosophical disagreement, and I believe this to be the case. Unfortunately, what is extremely unusual is any direct discussion of the philosophical issues involved, that is to say any discussion of what philosophers are doing when they appeal in their writings to works of literature, and of what if anything is lost by those who fail to do so. (shrink)

There is always a danger in philosophy, that what is intended initially as simply one explanation of some form of activity, should come to be regarded as the only possible form of explanation. Nor does this danger seem to be diminished where a philosopher's aim is itself that of attacking limited notions of what is possible as an explanation. This is one, though not the only, reason why it is often the case that what at first appears as a revolutionary (...) and illuminating solution of certain philosophical difficulties, later gives rise to even more intractable problems of its own. (shrink)

It is by no means unusual in works of philosophy for writers to make use of examples from literature or to bemoan the lack of literary examples in the work of other philosophers. Nor is it unusual for philosophers to write substantial tomes without ever mentioning any work of literature or to condemn the use of literary examples as a threat to clarity of thought. This contradiction in practice and principle might lead us to suspect that what we are here (...) dealing with is at least to some extent a philosophical disagreement, and I believe this to be the case. Unfortunately, what is extremely unusual is any direct discussion of the philosophical issues involved, that is to say any discussion of what philosophers are doing when they appeal in their writings to works of literature, and of what if anything is lost by those who fail to do so. (shrink)

There is always a danger in philosophy, that what is intended initially as simply one explanation of some form of activity, should come to be regarded as the only possible form of explanation. Nor does this danger seem to be diminished where a philosopher's aim is itself that of attacking limited notions of what is possible as an explanation. This is one, though not the only, reason why it is often the case that what at first appears as a revolutionary (...) and illuminating solution of certain philosophical difficulties, later gives rise to even more intractable problems of its own. (shrink)

Alexander’s book has what may at first appera to be the fairly limited aim of defending Dewey’s aesthetics against a well-know charge made by Stephen Pepper and Benedetto Croce when Art and Experience was first published. Dewey, they suggested, had produced what purported to be a pragmatist theory of art. But since his theory retained many of the central tenets of idealism, the result was simply inconsistency.

Alexander’s book has what may at first appera to be the fairly limited aim of defending Dewey’s aesthetics against a well-know charge made by Stephen Pepper and Benedetto Croce when Art and Experience was first published. Dewey, they suggested, had produced what purported to be a pragmatist theory of art. But since his theory retained many of the central tenets of idealism, the result was simply inconsistency.