In this book, T. M. Scanlon offers new answers to these questions, as they apply to the central part of morality that concerns what we owe to each other.

Richard Holton has developed a view of the nature of weak-willed actions, and I have done the same for akratic actions. How well does this view of mine fare in the sphere of weakness of will? Considerably better than Holton’s view. That is a thesis of this article. The article’s aim is to clarify the nature of weak-willed actions. Holton reports that he is "trying to give an account of our ordinary notion of weakness of will" (1999, p. 262). One (...) way to get evidence about ordinary notions is to conduct survey studies with ordinary people. I conducted four such studies on weakness of will. (shrink)

Empirical work on and common observation of the emotions tells us that our emotions sometimes key us to the presence of real and important reason-giving considerations without necessarily presenting that information to us in a way susceptible of conscious articulation and, sometimes, even despite our consciously held and internally justified judgment that the situation contains no such reasons. In this paper, I want to explore the implications of the fact that emotions show varying degrees of integration with our conscious agency—from (...) none at all to quite substantial—for our understanding of our rationality, and in particular for the traditional assumption that weakness of the will is necessarily irrational. (shrink)

Philosophical orthodoxy identifies weakness of will with akrasia: the weak willed person is someone who intentionally acts against their better judgement. It is argued that this is a mistake. Weakness of will consists in a quite different failing, namely an over-ready revision of one's intentions. Building on the work of Bratman, an account of such over-ready revision is given. A number of examples are then adduced showing how weakness of will, so understood, differs from akrasia.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Morality of Huck FinnCarol FreedmanA familiar refrain is that emotions threaten our capacity for moral judgment because they infringe on our ability to be impartial. Some hold that emotions lead us to serve personal rather than impersonal ends. And most Kantians argue that even when emotions influence us to pursue impartial ends, they still fail to be moral motives. Barbara Herman argues, however, that emotions can play an (...) important role in a Kantian model of moral judgment. 1 But her description of the moral role of emotions ultimately falls short. 2The problems with Herman’s argument are illustrated by a passage from Huckleberry Finn. The passage challenges a common Kantian assumption that any decision motivated by compassion or love is not a case of moral judgment. I contend that there is good reason to interpret Huck’s decision to help his friend Jim as an instance of moral judgment, even though it is also a case of acting from compassion and love. And though Herman’s theory offers a Kantian way of supporting my reading of Huck, her model fails to do justice to Huck’s case. But there is much that we can learn from the way it fails.IHuckleberry Finn is a story “which details some passages in the life of an ignorant village boy... [who has] run away from his persecuting father, and from a persecuting, good widow, who wishes to make a nice, truth-telling, respectable boy of him....” 3 The journey that follows, in which Huck is accompanied by the widow’s runaway slave, Jim, becomes a symbol of a boy’s attempt to grow up, discover his own identity, make his own decisions. In the part of the journey that has come to be known [End Page 102] as Huck’s “crisis of conscience,” we find him trying to decide whether he should help Jim escape from a slaveholder who has just captured him, or whether he should write to Miss Watson to tell her the where-abouts of her slave (pp. 168–69). On the face of it, Huck seems torn between the voices of conscience and temptation. Writing to Miss Watson, as he describes it, is “the right thing and the clean thing.” To do otherwise would just confirm his “wickedness”: “stealing a poor old woman’s nigger,” he says, “who hadn’t ever done me no harm.” But Huck also loves Jim. He says: “I couldn’t seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind.” So Huck seems torn between his sense of what’s right and his compassion. When, in exas-peration, he finally decides not to write the letter, but chooses instead “to go to hell,” it sounds like compassion triumphs over conscience. 4But is it necessarily the case that just because Huck acts from compassion that he does not conceive of what he’s doing as right—that he does not engage in moral judgment? I think it is most plausible to say that when Huck finally decides not to turn Jim in, he comes to a more heart-felt conception of what’s right, not that he does what he believes is wrong.Even though Huck describes helping Jim as “stealing,” and sinful, and the sort of thing for which he will “go to hell,” it is not clear that he thinks it is the wrong thing to do. Huck’s deliberation is tied up with thoughts of social condemnation and eternal punishment. He is obsessed with the pain he will endure if he does not write to Miss Watson. His thoughts begin with the pain of social condemnation (“And then think of me! It would get all around, that Huck Finn helped a nigger to get his freedom”); but they quickly turn to the pain of eternal punishment (“And at last, when it hit me all of a sudden that here was the plain hand of Providence slapping me in the face and letting me know my wickedness was being watched all the time from up there in heaven... I most dropped in my tracks I was so scared”). But Huck describes the... (shrink)

What happens to our conception of mind and rational agency when we take seriously future-directed intentions and plans and their roles as inputs into further practical reasoning? The author's initial efforts in responding to this question resulted in a series of papers that he wrote during the early 1980s. In this book, Bratman develops further some of the main themes of these essays and also explores a variety of related ideas and issues. He develops a planning theory of intention. Intentions (...) are treated as elements of partial plans of action. These plans play basic roles in practical reasoning, roles that support the organization of our activities over time and socially. Bratman explores the impact of this approach on a wide range of issues, including the relation between intention and intentional action, and the distinction between intended and expected effects of what one intends. (shrink)

In this paper1 I shall present not just the conscience of Huckleberry Finn but two others as well. One of them is the conscience of Heinrich Himmler. He became a Nazi in 1923; he served drably and quietly, but well, and was rewarded with increasing responsibility and power. At the peak of his career he held many offices and commands, of which the most powerful was that of leader of the S.S. - the principal police force of the Nazi regime. (...) In this capacity, Himmler commanded the whole concentration-camp system, and was responsible for the execution of the so-called ‘final solution of the Jewish problem’. It is important for my purposes that this piece of social engineering should be thought of not abstractly but in concrete terms of Jewish families being marched to what they think are bath-houses, to the accompaniment of loud-speaker renditions of extracts from The Merry Widow and Tales of Hoffman, there to be choked to death by poisonous gases. Altogether, Himmler succeeded in murdering about four and a half million of them, as well as several million gentiles, mainly Poles and Russians. The other conscience to be discussed is that of the Calvinist theologian and philosopher Jonathan Edwards. He lived in the first half of the eighteenth century, and has a good claim to be considered America’s first serious and considerable philosophical thinker. He was for many years a widely-renowned preacher and Congregationalist minister in New England; in 1748 a dispute with his congregation led him to resign (he couldn’t accept their view that unbelievers should be admitted to the Lord’s Supper in the hope that it would convert them); for some years after that he worked as a missionary, preaching to Indians through an interpreter;, then in 1758 he accepted the presidency of what is now Princeton University, and within two months died from a smallpox inoculation. Along the way he wrote some first-rate philosophy: his book attacking the notion of free will is still sometimes read.. (shrink)

What is that makes an act subject to either praise or blame? The question has often been taken to depend entirely on the free will debate for an answer, since it is widely agreed that an agent’s act is subject to praise or blame only if it was freely willed, but moral theory, action theory, and moral psychology are at least equally relevant to it. In the last quarter-century, following the lead of Harry Frankfurt’s (1971) seminal article “Freedom of the (...) Will and the Concept of a Person,” the interdisciplinary nature of the question has been emphasized by various authors. Going beyond the boundaries of the traditional free will debate, they have attempted to describe the requirements for agent accountability by appeal to theories of personality, rational agency, and ethical choice. The approach has been a breath of fresh air in the often-stagnant free will debate, bringing new considerations to bear and provoking new lines of argument, and it is an approach that we will adopt in this paper. In the following pages, we hope to show that an under-noticed phenomenon of moral psychology, inverse akrasia, exemplified by Huckleberry Finn, has something to contribute to the understanding of agency and accountability. After presenting the phenomenon in section I, we will move in section II to a quick survey of a family of Frankfurt-inspired views and a critique of them based on the phenomenon in sections III and IV. A new theory will be offered in section V, and potential objections addressed in the final section of the paper. (shrink)

This book presents a thorough overview of a model of human functioning based on the idea that behavior is goal-directed and regulated by feedback control processes. It describes feedback processes and their application to behavior, considers goals and the idea that goals are organized hierarchically, examines affect as deriving from a different kind of feedback process, and analyzes how success expectancies influence whether people keep trying to attain goals or disengage. Later sections consider a series of emerging themes, including dynamic (...) systems as a model for shifting among goals, catastrophe theory as a model for persistence, and the question of whether behavior is controlled or instead 'emerges'. Three chapters consider the implications of these various ideas for understanding maladaptive behavior, and the closing chapter asks whether goals are a necessity of life. Throughout, theory is presented in the context of diverse issues that link the theory to other literatures. (shrink)

Analyzes the nature of international disagreements and conflict resolution in terms of game theory and non-zero-sum games.

Virtue ethics is perhaps the most important development within late twentieth-century moral philosophy. Rosalind Hursthouse, who has made notable contributions to this development, here presents a full exposition and defense of her neo-Aristotelian version of virtue ethics. She shows how virtue ethics can provide guidance for action, illuminate moral dilemmas, and bring out the moral significance of the emotions.

The predominant view of moral virtue can be traced back to Aristotle. He believed that moral virtue must involve intellectual excellence. To have moral virtue one must have practical wisdom - the ability to deliberate well and to see what is morally relevant in a given context. Julia Driver challenges this classical theory of virtue, arguing that it fails to take into account virtues which do seem to involve ignorance or epistemic defect. Some 'virtues of ignorance' are counterexamples to accounts (...) of virtue which hold that moral virtue must involve practical wisdom. Modesty, for example, is generally considered to be a virtue even though the modest person may be making an inaccurate assessment of his or her accomplishments. Driver argues that we should abandon the highly intellectualist view of virtue and instead adopt a consequentialist perspective which holds that virtue is simply a character trait which systematically produces good consequences. (shrink)