Abstract

Here is a rather mundane set of claims about the stapler on my desk: The function of my stapler is to staple sheets of paper together. If the stapler is loaded with staples, but for some reason will not staple papers, the stapler is malfunctioning. That is, it is not doing what it is supposed to do. It is defective, or misshapen, misaligned or inadequate to its task, or in some other way normatively defective: there is something wrong with it. The reason that my stapler has its function, and is capable of having something wrong with it, is that my stapler is designed to staple sheets of paper together. Some human being sat down at some point and formed intentions about the production of objects which would, if everything went as planned, staple sheets of paper together. As a result of this person’s intentions, my stapler was produced, and because of the particular content of these intentions, my stapler was bestowed with its particular function.