Explores what Aristotelian sexual temperance and intemperance are.

This paper looks at two figures in the modern, European, eighteenth-century debate on luxury. It claims to better understand the differences between Francis Hutcheson and Bernard Mandeville by exploring how Hutcheson treated the topic of luxury as a distinction between two desires, thus differing from Mandeville's concept of luxury, and a concept of temperance based on moral sense. It explores why Hutcheson believed that luxury was a moral, social and political issue and particularly why he considered Mandeville the embodiment of (...) a threat that went beyond simple considerations of the content of The Fable of the Bees to touch on reflections on the equilibrium of a social and political system. It aims to show how the psychological and the moral dimension were connected to Hutcheson's political theory and how luxury was one of the key points of this connection. (shrink)

When people now talk about a relationship as being “Platonic”, they mean that the relationship is a non-sexual friendship. But what did Plato himself say about different kinds of relationship, and how did his name come to be associated with non-sexual relationships? While Plato’s Symposium has been the center of attention for his views on love, I argue that the Phaedrus and Laws VIII provide a much clearer account of Plato’s views. In these dialogues, Plato distinguishes between two kinds of (...) love and three kinds of lover. The two kinds of love are fundamentally oriented towards different objects: one kind of love is focused on the body of the beloved and seeks to extract as much bodily pleasure from them as possible, whereas the other kind of love is focused on the soul and seeks to benefit the beloved by improving their character. There is a lover for each kind of love, and a third kind of lover who is torn between these two opposing objects of love. Notably, in the kind of love directed towards the soul, the lovers will not engage in sexual activity. I argue that this is because Plato thinks that the natural function of sex is the procreation of good children and that engaging in such an intensely pleasurable activity risks making the lovers intemperate and lacking in self-control. Thus Plato thinks that the best kind of relationship is one of love (and not just friendship) but is nonetheless non-sexual. (shrink)

One’s constitution—whether one is generous or miserly, temperate or intemperate, kind or mean, etc.—is beyond one’s control in significant respects. Yet one’s constitution affects how one acts. And how one acts affects one’s moral standing. The counterintuitive inference—the so-called problem of constitutive moral luck—is that one’s moral standing is, to some significant extent, beyond one’s control. This article grants the premises but resists the inference. It argues that one’s constitution should have no net impact on one’s moral standing. While a (...) bad constitution lowers the chance that one will act morally, it offers significant gains to moral standing should that chance materialize. A good constitution increases one’s chance of performing good acts but for correspondingly more modest gains. This effect should smooth out, and possibly eliminate, the expected impact of constitution on moral standing. (shrink)

Written nearly fifty years ago, at a time when the world was still wrestling with the concepts of Marx and Lenin, 'The Illusion of the Epoch' is the perfect resource for understanding the roots of Marxism-Leninism and its implications for philosophy, modern political thought, economics, and history. As Professor Tim Fuller has written, this "is not an intemperate book, but rather an effort at a sustained, scholarly argument against Marxian views." Far from demonising his subject, Acton scrupulously notes where Marx's (...) account of historical and economic events and processes is essentially accurate. However, Acton also points out that Marx is generally right about things that were already widely known and accepted in his own time and indeed had been long understood in the nineteenth century. On the other hand, Acton shows that in many cases Marx either is simply wrong or has stated his views so as to render his theories immune to disproof. Acton also explains why the embodiment of Marxist-Leninist theory in an actual social order would require coercive support if it were not, sooner or later, to collapse of its own contradictions. (shrink)

HOW ARE WE TO UNDERSTAND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF VICE in Aristotle’s ethics? As many commentators have noted, it is by no means obvious that Aristotle’s scattered remarks about vice really add up to a coherent account. In several places Aristotle clearly assigns the leading role in the explanation of vicious action to reason. We see this, for example, in the unequivocal claim that acts expressing intemperance are “in accordance with choice”. This is important, in part because it provides a (...) basis for the distinction between vice and akrasia. Although both the intemperate and the akratic do what they ought not, the intemperate pursue their goal guided by reason and with “little or no appetite”, whereas the akratic act from appetite. What both pursue—and what both ought not pursue—is bodily pleasure. The difference is that the vicious pursue bodily pleasure because they think it is the central component in the good life. Thus, they choose pleasure as a good, indeed as the most important good. The akratic, on the other hand, pursue bodily pleasure as such and do so contrary to their conception of the good. (shrink)

Professor Strawson's paper is refreshing in content as well as refreshingly intemperate. It is salutary to be reminded that even the Type Identity Theory does not entail physicalism as that doctrine is usually understood (since c-fiber firings are not by definition purely physical). And it's fun to consider versions of panpsychism. I can see why Strawson finds his position hard to classify (p. 7), and I sympathize. In my title I have cast my own vote for '?-ism' on the grounds (...) that any familiar label would be either misleading or unwieldy. My main purpose here is to assess Strawson's case for panpsychism and then to offer some objections to panpsychism, but first I want to answer an interesting and serious charge he makes against me. (shrink)

In the nineteenth century, farmers, doctors, and the wider public shared a family of questions and anxieties concerning heredity. Questions over whether injuries, mutilations, and bad habits could be transmitted to offspring had existed for centuries, but found renewed urgency in the popular and practical scientific press from the 1820s onwards. Sometimes referred to as “Lamarckism” or “the inheritance of acquired characteristics,” the potential for transmitting both desirable and disastrous traits to offspring was one of the most pressing scientific questions (...) of the nineteenth century. As I argue in this paper, Carpenter’s religious commitments to abolition and the temperance movement shaped his understanding of heredity. But this also committed him to a body of evidence for the inheritance of acquired characteristics that was coming under criticism for being untrustworthy. Carpenter used his popular treatises on physiology to promote these older, familiar ideas about heredity because they provided vital means of arguing for the unity of mankind and the hereditary dangers of intemperance. While early nineteenth century physiology has been seen by some historians as a challenge to religious authority, given its potentially materialist accounts of the body and the actions of the soul, this paper demonstrates how the missionary and institutional activities of the Unitarian church were ideologically supported by Carpenter’s publications. (shrink)

The idea of epistemic temperance is introduced and explicated through a discussion of Plato's understanding of it. A variety of psychological and epistemic phenomena are presented which arise due to epistemic intemperance, or the inappropriate influence of conations on cognition. Two cases familiar to philosophers, self-deception and racial prejudice, are discussed as the result of epistemic intemperance though they are not typically seen as having a common cause. Finally, epistemic temperance is distinguished from epistemic justice, as these have (...) been conflated. (shrink)

Plato’s attitude towards drunkenness (μέθη) is surprisingly positive in the Laws, especially as compared to his negative treatment of intoxication in the Republic. In the Republic, Plato maintains that intoxication causes cowardice and intemperance (3.398e-399e, 3.403e, and 9.571c-573b), while in the Laws, Plato holds that it can produce courage and temperance (1.635b, 1.645d-650a, and 2.665c-672d). This raises the question: Did Plato change his mind, and if he did, why? Ultimately, this paper answers affirmatively and argues that this marks a (...) substantive shift in Plato’s attitude towards anti-rational desires. More precisely, this paper argues that in the Republic, Plato holds that anti-rational desires are always detrimental to health and virtue, while in the Laws, Plato maintains that anti-rational desires can be instrumental to health and virtue. (shrink)

I. Introduction Sex has been thought to reveal the most profound truths about individuals, laying bare their deepest desires and fears to their partners and themselves. In ‘Carnal Knowledge,’ Wendy Doniger states that this view is to be found in the texts of ancient India, in the Hebrew Bible, in Renaissance England and Europe, as well as in contemporary culture, including Hollywood films.1 Indeed, according to Josef Pieper, the original, Hebrew, meaning of `carnal knowledge’ was `immediate togetherness, intimate presence.’ 10 (...) But equally prevalent in both ancient and contemporary culture is the view that sex generates the deepest illusions, hiding people’s true selves behind layers of deception, blindness, deception, or self-deception.2 Tthere is, however, no contradiction in holding both that sexual deception and illusion blindness are widespread, and that sex reveals some profound truths about us. Indeed, if deception or illusion blindness about our sexual desires and fantasies is widespread, one likely explanation is surely that many of us implicitly or explicitly believe that our desires and fantasies say something important about us – or at least that we believe that others believe that they do. There is little reason to hide from ourselves or others that which we regard as unimportant. But while such blindness to or pretence about one’s own or partner’s sexual needs and desires saves one from embarrassment or from the effort to understand and satisfy one’s partner or oneself, it also subverts a central value of any fulfilling personal.. (shrink)

From its first appearance in 1844, Max Stirner’s major work, Der Einzige und sein Eigentum ,[1] has produced little agreement among its many interpreters. The very first of these interpreters was Friedrich Engels, who suggested that Stirner’s doctrines would be quite compatible with Benthamite utilitarianism, which he then admired, and even saw in these doctrines the potential of benefiting communism.[2] Marx, in short order, corrected this optimistic deviation, and then—with a surely repentant Engels—set forth the orthodox gospel for all future (...) generations of communists: Stirner, or “Sankt Max,” was but the speculative spokesman for the petty bourgeois, a decadent Hegelian boasting over the unrestraint of his self inflated ego.[3] Sidney Hook echoed Marx when he condemned Stirner’s work as but the “social defense mechanism of a petty bourgeois soul.”[4] Others, unsatisfied with this “petty” status, elevate him to that of the Grand Bourgeois, or Fascist.[5] Still others, taking an opposite stance, see in Stirner the most articulate defender of individual liberty.[6] In between, he has been called a nihilist, an anarchist, an existentialist, a solipsist, an anti Benthamite, an intemperate capitalist, or—as we might now suspect—an anti capitalist.[7] At least two commentators, lost in the confusion, have managed to escape the need to classify Stirner within the ongoing political and ethical categories and simply declare him to be insane.[8] In short, the list of radically diverse interpretations.. (shrink)

Roger Penrose is justly famous for his work in physics and mathematics but he is _notorious_ for his endorsement of the Gödel argument (see his 1989, 1994, 1997). This argument, first advanced by J. R. Lucas (in 1961), attempts to show that Gödel’s (first) incompleteness theorem can be seen to reveal that the human mind transcends all algorithmic models of it¹. Penrose's version of the argument has been seen to fall victim to the original objections raised against Lucas (see Boolos (...) (1990) and for a particularly intemperate review, Putnam (1994)). Yet I believe that more can and should be said about the argument. Only a brief review is necessary here although I wish to present the argument in a somewhat peculiar form. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Shopping for Meaningful Lives: The Religious Motive of Consumerism by Bruce P. RittenhouseIlsup AhnShopping for Meaningful Lives: The Religious Motive of Consumerism Bruce P. Rittenhouse eugene, or: cascade, 2013. 211 pp. $33.00Are there any theories of consumerism that characterize people’s lives on a global scale? What motivates them to choose a consumerist lifestyle? If possible, how can we overcome this lifestyle that entails destructive consequences? In this new (...) book, Shopping for Meaningful Lives, Bruce Rittenhouse answers these questions by critically appropriating Paul Tillich’s theological insights. He first diagnoses consumerism as “not only a pattern of behavior that characterizes an individual life, but a way in which an individual organizes his or her particular life to seek to give it meaning” (3). It is thus more insidious than the mere acquisition of goods and services in ever-increasing amounts because humans are not meant to be mere consuming animals. [End Page 196]In attempting to deconstruct consumerism, Rittenhouse first points out that it has been poorly understood despite its seeming ubiquity. He launches his own investigation to look for possible theories of consumerism, which he then evaluates according to a consistent set of empirical criteria. In chapter 3 he enumerates five main types that describe Western consumerism: “1, greed, i.e., consumers’ intemperate materialistic hedonism; 2, status signaling, i.e., consumers’ desire to communicate superior social status; 3, manipulation of consumer by the producers of economic goods through marketing and advertising; 4, imaginative hedonism, i.e., consumers’ seeking emotional pleasure through the imaginative identities; 5, parental concern, i.e., parents’ desire to maximize their children’s well-being” (47). According to Rittenhouse, these five theories of the motivations for consumerism provide anecdotal support to demonstrate their practical relevance, but they “fall short of demonstrating their theories’ empirical possibility, let alone their empirical superiority over the rival theories” (95).Rittenhouse’s alternative theory is then developed in chapter 5, after he provides empirical evidence (including economic charts and analyses) for his own critique in chapter 4. His years of experience as a professional economist aptly qualify him to develop his social-scientific argumentation. Rittenhouse’s constructive proposal is hinged upon his critical insight that consumerism’s motivation may best be understood as religious. By religious, he means that it “answers a question posed by the nature of human existence” (132). Consumerism is now newly understood both as existential and as religious matter, and here Rittenhouse critically appropriates Tillich’s ontotheological categories and concepts, such as the three pairs of ontological elements in the self-world structure of being (individuation and participation, dynamics and form, and freedom and destiny). Since consumerism’s motivation is existential and religious, Rittenhouse attempts to resolve the moral and religious failings of consumerism by demonstrating the “correlation between the existential question of meaning and the answer of existential Christian faith” (133).Rittenhouse concludes his book by calling for existential conversion through the means of grace—that is, “the means of conversion to existential Christian faith and of ongoing conversion within ambiguous existential Christian faith” (175). The strength of this book lies in his discovery that consumerism is a spurious form of religious life that only destroys those who are intoxicated by its lifestyle. Given that consumerism has taken root everywhere affected by ever rising globalization, Rittenhouse’s existential investigation and theological remedy are definitely a welcome voice in the field of Christian ethics. His expertise in social-scientific study and empirical analysis is also a rare strength in this important pursuit. This book is well suited for upper-level college students as well as seminarians and theological school students. It is also a wonderful text for adult Bible study groups in churches and religious communities. [End Page 197]Ilsup AhnNorth Park UniversityCopyright © 2015 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

Nicolai Hartmann, in an interesting discussion of Aristotle’s account of moral virtue, has called attention to the difference between the contrariety of opposed vices and the contrast of certain virtues. The äκρa or extremes, somewhere between which Aristotle thought that any morally virtuous disposition must lie, are not conciliable. The same man cannot combine or reconcile, in the same action, cowardice and bravery, intemperance and insensibility, stinginess and thriftlessness, passion and lack of spirit. These are pairs of contraries, between (...) which a virtue lies; but the virtue is not a synthesis of the extremes in a pair. (shrink)

Published in 1913 as _La Philosophie Bergsonienne_, this incisive critique of the thought of Henri Bergson was Jacques Maritain's first book. In it he shows himself already to have an authoritative grasp of the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas and an uncanny ability to demonstrate its relevance to alternative philosophical systems such as that of Henri Bergson. Volume 1 in the series _The Collected Works of Jacques Maritain_, this edition faithfully reproduces the 1955 translation published by the Philosophical Library. It (...) would be difficult to overestimate Bergson’s role in extricating French philosophy from the deadening materialism that dominated the Sorbonne. It was that cultural milieu that brought Maritain and his wife Raïssa to the brink of suicide. They drew back for two major reasons. First were the lectures of Henri Bergson at the Collège de France, in which the Maritains found a defense of metaphysics, of the transcendent beyond the material, within which they could find meaning in life. The second reason was their conversion to Catholicism, a move they and many of their contemporaries made after being introduced to Bergson’s work. Soon after his conversion, Jacques Maritain immersed himself in the thought of Thomas Aquinas and was struck by the comparative weaknesses of Bergson. This book is Maritain’s relentless criticism of the philosophy of the man whose lectures had meant so much to him. Its ferocity marks it as a young man’s book, written in part to exorcize the defects of Bergson’s philosophy as they were understood by one now schooled in Thomism. Twenty-five years later, Maritain, while not retracting his criticisms, regretted their intemperance and, as a result, moderated his assessment of Bergson in a long preface to the second edition. In it, we find a philosopher who mastered his craft and a critic of rare perception and refinement. (shrink)

ὥστε καθάπερ τοὺς ὑποκρινομένους,οὕτως ὑποληπτέον λέγειν καὶ τοὺς ἀκρατευομένους.Arist. Eth. Nic. 7.3.1147a22-4In Attic Nights 20.4, Aulus Gellius reports how his Athenian teacher, the Platonist L. Calvenus Taurus, advised one of his pupils to temper his devotion to stage actors and to turn his attention to the study of philosophy. Wishing to divert his student from associating with theatre people, Taurus assigned the daily reading of a specific chapter from Aristotle's Προβλήματα Ἐγκύκλια. He sent his student an extract from the book, (...) which Gellius quotes : ‘Why are Dionysian artists mostly worthless people?’—the problem is still extant in the Aristotelian collection of Problemata physica that came down to us. The explanation Aristotle suggested is that ‘these men are least familiar with reason and philosophy, since they devote most of their life to the necessary arts, and because they are in an intemperate state most of the time, sometimes even in difficulties, both of which conditions cause meanness ’. (shrink)

This commentary raises three points in response to the target article. First, what appear to be victimless behaviors in highly individualistic, post-industrial societies might have a direct impact on group members in small-scale societies. Second, many societies show marked tolerance or ambivalence toward intemperate behavior. Third, undisciplined behavior is not antithetical to cooperation but can be used to cooperative ends.

It is not easy to find a fair balance between inappropriate speech on the one hand and the appearance of constraint and inaccessibility on the other. Also judges must deal with this difficult task. They must take care not to endanger values that are protected to secure the functionality of justice. This article deals with questions of why and how judges can fulfil this task and what might happen if they fail to do so. The article argues in favour of (...) temperate speech using arguments from the fields of judicial ethics and normative ethics. It also offers examples of intemperate speech that might be dangerous to justice. Last but not least, the article mentions the relevance of judicial temperate speech for the concept of open justice thanks to which the judiciary might seek public confidence. (shrink)

Our article deals with Aristotle’s account of the sphere of temperance in the Nicomachean Ethics. The goal is to provide a detailed analysis of NE III.10 in order to identify the difficulties this chapter presents us with and to introduce and discuss the interpretations set forth by the secondary literature. Of special interest to us are Aristotle’s intense dialogue with Plato; the difficulty in understanding touch as the most common of the senses and Aristotle’s severe judgment of the pleasures of (...) the sphere of temperance. In short, Aristotle seems to set out from platonic thesis and notions only to distance himself from them by introducing his own, associating temperance with the most common of the senses, namely, the sense of touch. This association is not based, as it could seem primafacie, on a merely empirical observation but on the assumption that touch is the most fundamental and necessary sense for humans and animals alike. Temperance, therefore, as the excellence in the relation with the most fundamental and necessary of the senses, seems to be a pre-condition for rational action. From this Aristotle derives the etymology of the term, as the one who preserves practical reason. This hypothesis would explain why Aristotle seems to engage in apotreptic language to characterize the lack of temperance, that is, the vice of intemperance – something we do not find the in the account of any other virtue and vice. (shrink)

In NE III.10, 1118b1–3, Aristotle says that the “most shared of the senses is that according to which intemperance [comes about], and it would seem justifiably to be shameful, because it inheres [in us] not insofar as we are human beings, but insofar as we are animals”. This statement appears to describe the sense of touch as shameful. This may seem like a strange position for Aristotle to hold, since elsewhere he describes human touch as the most accurate among (...) animal species, which corresponds to our superior intelligence, and as necessary for animal life. In this paper, I argue that Maimonides nevertheless succeeds in showing that Aristotle has a strong theoretical reason for maintaining that the sense of touch is shameful. Maimonides shows that, based on principles of Aristotelian psychology, human touch is indeed shameful because it obstructs intellectual activity. (shrink)

I listen to all these complaints about rudeness and intemperateness, and the opinion that I come to is that there is no polite way of asking somebody: have you considered the possibility that your entire life has been devoted to a delusion? But that’s a good question to ask. Of course we should ask that question and of course it’s going to offend people. Tough.

In my presentation I understand anger as an emotion that, in addition to its relationship to time, is also subject to cultural rules and is therefore related to probability and predictability. With the use of selected references from the theory of emotions (ranging from antiquity to the present day) I identify several consistent fundamental assumptions about this emotion and reconstruct a discourse of “just” anger. Viewed from the perspective of such extra-literary concepts of anger (particularly Thomas Aquinas' ‘De passionibus animae’) (...) Willehalm's outbursts of anger at the French court can be seen not only as an “illegitimate”, universally condemned act, through which the margrave unnecessarily puts at risk his legitimate claim to the king's support; equally, the very forbearance and expressions of solidarity which he is successively shown after his intemperate behaviour in Munleun can also be reinterpreted in light of the Aristotelian-Thomistic model of anger. (shrink)

Peut-on être courageux mais injuste? Sage mais intempérant? Juste mais ignorant? À ces questions, Socrate le premier répondit que c’était impossible. Le plongeur amateur qui se jette la tête la première dans un puits sans savoir ce qu’il fait n’est pas courageux – seulement téméraire et stupide. Savoir. Tout est là. Mais com- ment savoir quand il n’y a personne pour vous instruire, seulement des charlatans ou des inspirés qui ne savent pas ce qu’ils disent? S’il n’y a personne pour (...) enseigner la vertu, comment pourrait-elle être un savoir? Socrate n’est pas, cependant, à un paradoxe près, et ce sont ses paradoxes qui vont nourrir des générations succes-sives de philosophes, depuis Platon et Aristote jusqu’aux philosophes hellénistiques et aux platoniciens tardifs. La vertu est-elle unique ou multiple? Quelle est son origine? Quels sont les prére- quis de son émergence? Le présent ouvrage raconte l’histoire de ces questions dans la philosophie ancienne, en montrant également leur transposition dans l’univers chrétien par l’intermédiaire d’Augustin et l’écho qu’elles trouvent jusque dans l’œuvre de Nietzsche. Alors que la problématique des vertus a gagné une actualité et une pertinence renouvelées dans les éthiques contemporaines, il était utile de rappeler la diversité des manières dont les penseurs anciens se sont débattus avec ces questions centrales.0. (shrink)

Cet article se propose d’interroger la compréhension par Hegel de sa propre pensée comme « fin » de l’histoire de la philosophie. Il montre tout d’abord de quelle manière cette compréhension est bien incontestable chez Hegel. Il entreprend ensuite d’analyser la signification essentielle, mais éminemment complexe que revêt la notion de fin ici en question. Il cherche enfin à établir que loin d’être le gage d’un dogmatisme intempérant, la position de fin de la philosophie que Hegel impute à sa pensée (...) est au contraire l’expression de son antidogmatisme résolu qui entend restituer la vérité à son essence dynamique et inquiète, et, de là, à son historicité foncière.This article sets out to inquire into Hegel’s understanding of his own thought as the “end” of the history of philosophy. It shows firstly how Hegel unquestionably understood his philosophy this way. It then sets out to analyse the essential, but highly complex meaning taken on by the concept of “end” in question here. It seeks finally to establish that, far from being a token of immoderate dogmatism, the view of being the end of philosophy which Hegel attributes to his thought is, on the contrary, the expression of his resolute opposition to dogmatism which seeks to restore truth to its dynamic and restless essence, and hence to its fundamental historicity. (shrink)

Nicolai Hartmann, in an interesting discussion of Aristotle’s account of moral virtue, has called attention to the difference between the contrariety of opposed vices and the contrast of certain virtues. The äκρa or extremes, somewhere between which Aristotle thought that any morally virtuous disposition must lie, are not conciliable. The same man cannot combine or reconcile, in the same action, cowardice and bravery, intemperance and insensibility, stinginess and thriftlessness, passion and lack of spirit. These are pairs of contraries, between (...) which a virtue lies; but the virtue is not a synthesis of the extremes in a pair. (shrink)

Nineteenth-century psychiatrists ascribed to a model of health that was predicated on the existence of objective and strictly defined laws of nature. The allegedly “natural” rules governing the production of consumption of food, however, were structured by a set of distinctively bourgeois moral values that demonized over-indulgence and intemperance, encouraged self-discipline and productivity, and treated gentility as an index of social worth. Accordingly, the asylum acted not only as a therapeutic instrument but also as a moral machine that was (...) designed to remake lazy, indolent transgressors into useful, “decorous” citizens. Because the theory and mechanics underlying this machine seemed straightforward and self-evident to psychiatrists, they were confounded when the asylum failed to translate its ideals into reality. While psychiatrists tended to blame this failure on the intractable immorality and weakness of individual patients, particularly paupers and immigrants, a review of the various meanings and uses of food in the hospital reveals the fault lines that ran through the asylum’s ideological structure. (shrink)

It is an interesting paradox that on the one hand intemperate enthusiasm greets new medical discoveries. On the other hand, the lack of science in medicine is paraded from time to time, usually as a matter of apologetics, as, when a physician wishes to excuse an error, a lawyer to discredit a physician, or a jury to render a verdict contrary to medical evidence. Philosophers who insist on the mathematical or quantitative aspects in any definition of science ascribe very little (...) that is truly scientific to biology in general or to its daughter medicine in particular. Jerome Frank comments approvingly that “many scientific-minded physicians today deny that medicine is, or is likely ever to be, a science.” Articulate physicians themselves may be highly critical. Dr. Ian Stevenson, for example, declares, “Medicine will not achieve the status of a science until the basic laws of health and disease have been disclosed. But the search for these laws has hardly begun.” Stevenson goes on to point out that instead of seeking basic laws, medicine is concentrating on facts, from which no laws emerge. (shrink)

The Framers understood the Constitution to be the fundamental expression of the rule of law over against the arbitrary, intemperate, and unjust “rule of men” that all too frequently existed in the political world, unfortunately both democratic as well as monarchical. Accordingly, the rule of law requires a well functioning political and legal system that includes legislative checks and balances, the separation of power between the President and Congress, an independent judiciary, federalism, etc. What happens when this “Madisonian” constitutional system, (...) designed to express “the deliberate sense of the community,” runs into a Judicial branch that, in effect, claims we live under a Constitution, but the Constitution is what we say it is. Must the Judiciary itself be subject to the rule of law, and the decisions of a constitutional majority, or does their “independence” extend to being independent of the constraints of the rule of law and, thus, decent majority rule? How did the original John Marshall Court answer these questions, and what light do the leading cases and controversies shed on the relationship between the Marshall Court and the Madisonian System? Are we facing a situation of Marshall v. Madison? (shrink)

The dream of political satire - to fearlessly speak truth to power - is not matched by its actual effects. This study explores the role of satirical communication in licensing public expression of harsh emotions defined in neuroscience as the CAD triad. The mobilisation of these emotions is a fundamental distinction between satirical and comic laughter. Phiddian pursues this argument particularly through an account of Jonathan Swift and his contemporaries. They played a crucial role in the early eighteenth century to (...) make space in the public sphere for intemperate dissent, an essential condition of free political expression. (shrink)

Tamen's essay is one of a group of responses to Émilie Hache and Bruno Latour's article “Morality or Moralism?” which advocates our “sensitization” to nonhuman things. Tamen examines the picture of universal reciprocation that Hache and Latour propose, according to which, when I “bow at” (acknowledge) things, some things bow back at me, and I must treat whatever bows back as if it were like me. Unlike James Lovelock, a passage from whose work they discuss, Hache and Latour understand this (...) picture in a sense that is essentially “honorary.” The picture or premise they propose sets up, they admit, “a promising misunderstanding.” Tamen offers two arguments in response: one against as-if locutions and another against the very notion of setting up a misunderstanding. But it is good news, Tamen concludes, that sensitization cannot be set up. To what extent we would want a “revival of scruple” to succeed is a serious question, the answer dependent on how much scruple about which things and for what reasons. However pleasing the Hache/Latour or Lovelock picture, it is easy to imagine an intemperate degree of scruple, requiring agonies of continual debate and calculation of the minutest consequences of our acts and the most unlivable alternatives. (shrink)

We can describe certain actions as defective in a particular virtue, for example, as “unjust” or “intemperate.” We can take the additional step of describing such actions as “morally wrong” or “contrary to moral obligation.” A key claim of Elizabeth Anscombe's “Modern Moral Philosophy” is that if we choose to describe virtue-defective actions as “morally wrong,” because we are “obliged” or “bound” or “required” not to do them, we are in fact taking an additional step and that this step stands (...) in need of explanation. Just what, if anything, is added to the description of an action as “unjust” when we say there is an obligation not to do it? Anscombe thinks “the answer is in history: between Aristotle and us came Christianity, with its law conception of ethics.” 1 In this paper, I shall confront this question in two parts. First, I will consider the possibility, argued for by Simon Blackburn, that Anscombe's historical explanation cannot answer this question because her history is based on the false premise that the Greeks do not possess the “moral ought.” Describing an action as contrary to obligation may still add something to “unjust,” but historical genealogy of Anscombe's sort will not shed any light on the question. Since I think that Blackburn's arguments, although important, are not conclusive, I will proceed to consider the implications of Anscombe's own view of what talk about obligation adds to descriptions of actions as defective in virtue. This will require elaboration of her cryptic Wittgensteinian remark that “it really does add something to the description ‘unjust’ to say there is an obligation not to do it; for what obliges is the divine law—as rules oblige in a game.” 2. (shrink)

According to the traditional interpretation of these celebrated lines, Pindar is saying here that while the wise can understand his poetry by themselves, the mass of his listeners need interpreters if they are to do so; he then goes on to contrast inferior poets, who can sing only ineffectually and only what they have learned, with the poet of natural genius, who surpasses them as the eagle surpasses the crows; and finally he returns to the subject at hand, the praise (...) of the victorious Theron of Acragas. Sandys' Loeb translation may be taken as a representative example: Full many a swift arrow have I beneath mine arm, within my quiver, many an arrow that is vocal to the wise; but for the crowd they need interpreters. The true poet is he who knoweth much by gift of nature, but they that have only learnt the lore of song, and are turbulent and intemperate of tongue, like a pair of crows, chatter in vain against the god—like bird of Zeus. Now, bend thy bow toward the mark! tell me, my soul, whom are we essaying to hit, while we now shoot forth our shafts of fame from the quiver of a friendly heart? Construed in this way, this passage has always been especially popular with scholars and with other readers — not surprisingly, for the former could find in it a justification for their activity as ρμηνες, while the latter could pride themselves on belonging to the συνετοί. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Questions of Evidence: An Anonymous Tract Attributed to John TolandRhoda RappaportIn 1695 there was published in London a tract with the unprepossessing title, Two Essays sent in a Letter from Oxford, to a Nobleman in London, by “L. P. Master of Arts.” Because the larger part of this work attacks John Woodward’s theory of the earth, published earlier that year, historians of geology have long been familiar with the (...) Two Essays, even if none has managed to identify L. P. In 1975 Giancarlo Carabelli offered evidence for a conjectural attribution of the Two Essays to John Toland (1670–1722), the famous deist who established his notoriety the next year with his Christianity Not Mysterious (1696). 1 Carabelli’s cautious attribution would require no comment, were it not for the fact that what began as conjecture has evolved into a strong probability and even into an established fact—all this without any notable addition to Carabelli’s evidence. It is surely time to look more closely at that evidence.Carabelli first presents the main points of the Two Essays: a rejection of Woodward’s supernaturalism, a preference for natural causes to explain even the origins of the earth, and a reduction of the Bible to the level of ancient myth and legend. We have here a pronounced free-thinker and materialist, and Toland’s later writings make him a plausible candidate as author. (Whether this interpretation of the Two Essays is accurate will be discussed later in this study.) Carabelli then provides three pieces of evidence, without discussion or evaluation. The next paragraphs rehearse that evidence, with commentary. [End Page 339]The Rumor in OxfordAccording to Edward Lhwyd (or Lhuyd), Keeper of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford rumor had it that Toland was L. P. Lhwyd denied the rumor, chiefly because L. P. seemed to have had the aid of “some good naturalist”—this did not fit Lhwyd’s notion of Toland’s temperament. 2 In truth, although Lhwyd did not yet know it, L. P. did indeed get such aid from Tancred Robinson, F.R.S., but Robinson declined to identify L. P. 3 Thus far Carabelli.A rumor is no secure basis for attribution, especially when it is contradicted by someone who knew Toland reasonably well. In the small community of Oxford, Lhwyd quickly knew about Toland even before meeting him, because the two had common antiquarian interests. Toland had gone to Oxford with the intention of compiling an Irish dictionary, and fragmentary evidence shows that the two then met to discuss their Celtic researches. 4 A distinguished naturalist, Lhwyd also was consulted by Toland on matters of natural history—at least, the surviving text on this issue shows Toland asking one question of a trivial sort. Lhwyd then comments that Toland is “not conversant in these studies” but yet has ideas about them. 5 As the latter phrase indicates, Lhwyd learned much about the temper and opinions of Toland. He knew that Toland was “railing in coffee houses” about matters religious and political, but he did not associate religious radicalism with the Two Essays. Instead, Lhwyd assessed Toland’s fitness to deal with Woodward entirely in terms of temperament and personality: Toland was a man “of excellent parts, but as litle [sic] a share as may be of modesty or conscience; and one of the best scolds I ever met with.” In the same letter Lhwyd assessed Woodward as Toland’s presumed equal in stubbornness and egotism. 6In saying that L. P. must have had the advice of “some good naturalist,” Lhwyd seems to imply that Toland was too ignorant (of natural history) and too intemperate to profit from or perhaps even to seek advice. [End Page 340] Despite these doubts, is it not possible that Toland could have acquired sufficient knowledge of natural history, in a period of about four months (between the publication of Woodward’s book and that of the Two Essays), to display the expertise shown by L. P.? Any British virtuoso could surely have done so, and the Two Essays actually include a good little bibliography of suitable publications that would provide a working knowledge of the latest ideas... (shrink)

Aristotle's Account of the Virtue of Temperance in Nicomachean Ethics III. 1 o- 11 HOWARD J. CURZER 1. INTRODUCTION maNY ?ONTEMPOX~RY SOCIAL eROBL~S arise from inappropriate indulgence in food, drink, and/or sex. Temperance is the Aristotelian virtue which governs these three things, and Aristotle's account of temperance contains important insights and useful distinctions. Yet Aristotle's account of temperance has been surprisingly neglected, despite the resurgence of virtue ethics. I shall remedy this neglect by providing a passage- by-passage commentary on Aristotle's (...) account of temperance in Nicomachean Ethics III. lO-11. I shall describe the sphere of temperance and Aristotle's distinctions among the character traits of temperance, self-indulgence, insensi- bility, continence, incontinence, and brutishness. I shall also describe the pas- sions and parameters of temperance and argue that Aristotle's account of temperance is compatible with his doctrine of the mean. My interpretation includes several controversial claims. For example, I maintain that Aristote- lian temperance governs not only the enjoyment of certain tactile pleasures, but also the desire for these pleasures. Aristotle's account clashes with common sense and with his own architec- tonic at several points. For example, he maintains that a person is intemperate only if he or she goes wrong.. (shrink)

Comment les interruptions des logiques capitalistes peuvent-elles devenir immédiatement des sites de reproduction, de sorte que nos tentatives pour réagir à la destruction capitaliste soient simultanément des pratiques de care capables de durer? Quelles tactiques et quels espaces, quelles relations sociales et écologiques doivent être sauvées du passé et reconnues comme capables d’agir au présent, alors que le capitalisme se reproduit en détruisant les conditions de la reproduction du vivant, de la vie psychique, culturelle, et écologique? Si la nostalgie tend (...) à caractériser la dialectique entre production et parti, hégémonie et pouvoir d’État, alors quelles empathies, quels deuils et quelles fureurs, doivent être trouvées et promues sur le terrain où s’expriment la violence directe et l’expropriation définissant notre présent? Un communisme intempéré se cherche dans cet article, pour donner forme à la conjuration politique des intempéries qui menacent notre existence terrestre. (shrink)

I listen to all these complaints about rudeness and intemperateness, and the opinion that I come to is that there is no polite way of asking somebody: have you considered the possibility that your entire life has been devoted to a delusion? But that’s a good question to ask. Of course we should ask that question and of course it’s going to offend people. Tough.

Drawing on Aristotle’s conception of the vices and virtues related to bodily pleasures, I argue that temperance and carnal wisdom, understood as practical wisdom about the conditions of bodily flourishing, are necessary for “mutual visibility” (full mutual perceptiveness and responsiveness in sex), as well as for treating ourselves and others as ends. Intemperance, “insensibility”, and carnal foolishness block mutual visibility by devaluing sensuous pleasures. Intemperance does this through objectification, insensibility through “disembodiment.” Since Aristotle has little to say about (...) sex as such, I extrapolate from his discussion of the virtues and vices in eating and drinking to sex, focusing on a feature of intemperance that is neglected in contemporary discussions but that is central to Aristotle’s own account of intemperance, viz., taking the wrong sort of pleasure in sex. (shrink)

Ten years on and the debate about the foundations of judicial review continues. Two themes have remained constant throughout. The species of legislative intent have multiplied to include specific, general and constructive intent, and who knows what further ‘adjectival variants’ remain to be discovered. Those opposed to the common law model advance dire warnings of the dangers of ignoring their preferred adjectival version. In Allan's case my previous analytical criticism of constructive legislative intent, henceforth CLI, has provoked more extreme claims (...) and more intemperate language about the alleged consequences of adherence to the common law model. These are, as will be seen, wrong. They serve moreover to mask the problems with CLI. Allan claims repeatedly that I confuse literal and constructive legal intent in his reasoning. This is quite mistaken: I take issue with the very meaning and application of CLI. (shrink)

Nous nous sommes proposés ici de montrer qu’Aristote caractérise le fou (μαινόμενος) dans le cadre d’un système différencié d’autres notions, sans en faire seulement un cas limite, quasiment impensé. Le point de départ de l’étude est l’analyse de la triade ἀκούσιον/δι᾽ ἄγνοιαν/ἀγνοῶν qui convoque aux côtés du fou : l’homme en colère, l’homme pris de vin, celui qui dort, le méchant (μοχθηρός), l’intempérant/incontinent (ἀκρατής), le malade. Cela implique de déterminer les types d’ignorance en cause dans les actes accomplis dans chaque (...) cas et, a contrario, en contraste avec la position socratique, les différentes formes de «l’être dans le savoir» : le savoir en entéléchie première et le savoir en acte ; le savoir du général et celui du particulier ; le savoir en acte sans intervention des affections (πάθη) et le savoir avec affections. Dans l’ensemble des catégories d’acteurs envisagées qui, selon les cas ne mettent pas en acte leur savoir de la différence entre le bien et le mal temporairement, ou le font durablement au point de transformer leur ignorance un état stable (ἕξις) de méchanceté ou encore par choix, comme l’acratique, dans cet ensemble donc, le fou apparaît comme celui qui agit par ignorance (δι᾽ ἄγνοιαν) et non pas de l’un ou de l’autre des paramètres d’une action particulière, mais de tous, à l’exception d’un seul : l’agent car, dit Aristote, «comment s’ignorer soi-même» (ἑαυτόν). Un autre moment de l’article consiste à analyser ce qu’est le soi-même en question et conclut à la réduction de l’αὐτός à ce qui accompagne la mise en acte de l’existence (τὸ εἶναι) que ce soit dans l’agir (πραττειν), le faire (ποιεῖν) ou le vivre (ζῆν). Le fou, en agissant, activerait simplement son sentiment d’exister et en cela ne pourrait «s’ignorer lui-même». Mais il faudra qu’il sorte de cette position et que, revenu à la connaissance de tous les paramètres d’un acte, il se repente de ce qu’il a accompli, pour avoir droit à la qualification d’ἀκούσιος («qui a agi contre son gré»). Chez Aristote la folie semble donc ne pouvoir être philosophiquement prise en compte que comme une crise dont on sort pour mettre en acte son savoir des paramètres d’une action particulière et n’est pas excusable parce que le fou «n’aurait pas eu conscience de son acte» mais parce qu’il a retrouvé la connaissance de ce qui compose un acte. (shrink)

Nous nous sommes proposés ici de montrer qu’Aristote caractérise le fou (μαινόμενος) dans le cadre d’un système différencié d’autres notions, sans en faire seulement un cas limite, quasiment impensé. Le point de départ de l’étude est l’analyse de la triade ἀκούσιον/δι᾽ ἄγνοιαν/ἀγνοῶν qui convoque aux côtés du fou : l’homme en colère, l’homme pris de vin, celui qui dort, le méchant (μοχθηρός), l’intempérant/incontinent (ἀκρατής), le malade. Cela implique de déterminer les types d’ignorance en cause dans les actes accomplis dans chaque (...) cas et, a contrario, en contraste avec la position socratique, les différentes formes de «l’être dans le savoir» : le savoir en entéléchie première et le savoir en acte ; le savoir du général et celui du particulier ; le savoir en acte sans intervention des affections (πάθη) et le savoir avec affections. Dans l’ensemble des catégories d’acteurs envisagées qui, selon les cas ne mettent pas en acte leur savoir de la différence entre le bien et le mal temporairement, ou le font durablement au point de transformer leur ignorance un état stable (ἕξις) de méchanceté ou encore par choix, comme l’acratique, dans cet ensemble donc, le fou apparaît comme celui qui agit par ignorance (δι᾽ ἄγνοιαν) et non pas de l’un ou de l’autre des paramètres d’une action particulière, mais de tous, à l’exception d’un seul : l’agent car, dit Aristote, «comment s’ignorer soi-même» (ἑαυτόν). Un autre moment de l’article consiste à analyser ce qu’est le soi-même en question et conclut à la réduction de l’αὐτός à ce qui accompagne la mise en acte de l’existence (τὸ εἶναι) que ce soit dans l’agir (πραττειν), le faire (ποιεῖν) ou le vivre (ζῆν). Le fou, en agissant, activerait simplement son sentiment d’exister et en cela ne pourrait «s’ignorer lui-même». Mais il faudra qu’il sorte de cette position et que, revenu à la connaissance de tous les paramètres d’un acte, il se repente de ce qu’il a accompli, pour avoir droit à la qualification d’ἀκούσιος («qui a agi contre son gré»). Chez Aristote la folie semble donc ne pouvoir être philosophiquement prise en compte que comme une crise dont on sort pour mettre en acte son savoir des paramètres d’une action particulière et n’est pas excusable parce que le fou «n’aurait pas eu conscience de son acte» mais parce qu’il a retrouvé la connaissance de ce qui compose un acte. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 35.3 (2002) 244-265 [Access article in PDF] Community, Assimilation, and the Unfamiliar Tim Donovan Fellowship We are five friends, one day we came out of the house one after the other, first one came and placed himself beside the gate, then the second came, or rather he glided through the gate like a little ball of quicksilver, and placed himself near the first one, and then (...) came the third, then the fourth, then the fifth. Finally we all stood in a row. People began to notice us, they pointed at us and said: "Those five just came out of that house." Since then we have been living together; it would be a peaceful life if it weren't for the sixth one continually trying to interfere. He doesn't do us any harm, but he annoys us, and that is harm enough; why does he intrude where he is not wanted? We don't know him and don't want him to join us. There was a time, of course, when the five of us did not know one another, either; and it could be said that we still don't know one another, but what is possible and can be tolerated by the five of us is not possible and cannot be tolerated with the sixth one. In any case, we are five and don't want to be six. And what is the point of this continual being together anyhow? It is also pointless for the five of us, but here we are together; a new combination, however, we do not want, just because of our experiences. But how is one to make this clear to the sixth one? Long explanations would almost amount to accepting him in our circle, so we prefer not to explain and not to accept him. No matter how he pouts his lips, we push him away with our elbows, but however much we push him away, back he comes. — Franz Kafka 1. I want to introduce this essay on Edmund Spenser's early modern dialogue View of the Present State of Ireland with a contemporary question influenced by Franz Kafka's epigraph: What are the principles that presuppose an understanding of community? I have purposely stated the question of belonging as "an understanding" rather than "what are the principles that we presuppose as...." After all, who is this we that so easily gathers identity within the common usage? I begin with a question to maintain uncertainty, [End Page 244] which indicates a responsibility to greet the unfamiliar, all the while knowing very clearly that the concept of community naturally presumes some common measure of familiarity. Yet as Kafka's allegory implies: What presupposes the propriety of those familiar experiences we name our own?Spenser's dialogue is undoubtedly challenging, a challenge that has drawn an enormous amount of recent critical analysis from literary critics and historians. Still, a general difficulty persists. Michael Donnelly summarizes the difficulty quite well when he notes that the View is quite "anomalous in the Spenserian oeuvre," a rather strange dialogue that seems uncharacteristic of the poet's humanist image (1). The challenges certainly begin with the troubling difficulties of an argument that concludes with the stark political necessities of enforced famine, massive relocation, and ethnic cleansing. Furthermore, the anxious burden of justifying this dire program expresses itself in a tone that would be thought intemperate even by many of Spenser's contemporaries (McCabe, 116). More important than the dialogue's dire tone of determination, there is a continued resonance of enforced cultural assimilation and genocide that haunts our contemporary world forewarned by arguments of pathology and apartheid. However, a glance at recent political news would indicate that these forewarnings are repeatedly ignored. I believe the challenge that the View evokes dwells in the traditional lineage of the concept of community. Thus, we cannot so easily dismiss Spenser's dialogue as merely an early modern problem; nor can we dismiss it as another diatribe in the long-standing tradition of racial screeds. The political problems that the dialogue engages foreshadow current... (shrink)

The papers comprising Zur Farbenlehre, best known portion of Goethe's writings on color and optics, appeared between 1808 and 1810. Portions of Zur Farbenlehre, translated by the painter Charles Lock Eastlake and frequently reprinted under the title Theory of Colours, achieved immediate notoriety because of Goethe's insistent questioning of Newton's methodology. Acknowledging no mentors except Theophrastus and the physicist Robert Boyle, Goethe compared the Newtonian theory of colors--indelicately, some think--to a once proud castle still revered long after it has fallen (...) into decay. The furor aroused by this intemperate analogy has not fully subsided yet. During the twentieth century Max Planck answered the impertinence with a vigorous ad hominem attack and Rudolph Carnap followed suit. We still lack a serious analysis of Goethe's color theories or his arguments against Newton. And the early vituperation seems quaint. Questioning Newton's methodology--or even his epistemology--is a legitimate activity and has even become commonplace. The 1840 edition of Eastlake's translation enjoys a perennial popularity among artists and a few perceptual psychologists, who have been allowed to monopolize for too long a book which is primarily a highly provocative inquiry in the philosophy of science. Someday an imaginative publisher may be inspired to make available more extensive translations of Goethe's copious writings on color, complemented by the type of careful editing, annotation and analysis which I. Bernard Cohen and Alexander Koyré provide for the writings of Newton. Until then one is grateful for Eastlake.--P. S. (shrink)

The papers comprising Zur Farbenlehre, best known portion of Goethe's writings on color and optics, appeared between 1808 and 1810. Portions of Zur Farbenlehre, translated by the painter Charles Lock Eastlake and frequently reprinted under the title Theory of Colours, achieved immediate notoriety because of Goethe's insistent questioning of Newton's methodology. Acknowledging no mentors except Theophrastus and the physicist Robert Boyle, Goethe compared the Newtonian theory of colors--indelicately, some think--to a once proud castle still revered long after it has fallen (...) into decay. The furor aroused by this intemperate analogy has not fully subsided yet. During the twentieth century Max Planck answered the impertinence with a vigorous ad hominem attack and Rudolph Carnap followed suit. We still lack a serious analysis of Goethe's color theories or his arguments against Newton. And the early vituperation seems quaint. Questioning Newton's methodology--or even his epistemology--is a legitimate activity and has even become commonplace. The 1840 edition of Eastlake's translation enjoys a perennial popularity among artists and a few perceptual psychologists, who have been allowed to monopolize for too long a book which is primarily a highly provocative inquiry in the philosophy of science. Someday an imaginative publisher may be inspired to make available more extensive translations of Goethe's copious writings on color, complemented by the type of careful editing, annotation and analysis which I. Bernard Cohen and Alexander Koyré provide for the writings of Newton. Until then one is grateful for Eastlake.--P. S. (shrink)

In Nicomachean Ethics 7.7 (= Eudemian Ethics 6.7), Aristotle distinguishes softness (malakia) from lack of self-control (akrasia) and endurance (karteria) from self-control (enkrateia). This paper argues that unqualified softness consists of a disposition to give up acting to avoid the painful toil (ponos) required to execute practical resolutions, and (coincidentally) to enjoy the pleasures of rest and relaxation. The enduring person, in contrast, persists in her commitments despite the painful effort required to enact them. Along the way, I argue that (...) this interpretation qualifies our understanding of the pleasures and pains with which temperance and intemperance are concerned. (shrink)