Name der Zeitschrift: Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie und Religionsphilosophie Jahrgang: 60 Heft: 1 Seiten: 44-57.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:William James, A Pluralistic Universe. A New Philosophical ReadingRichard A. S. Hall William James, A Pluralistic Universe. A New Philosophical Reading. Ed. H. G. Callaway. Newcastle, U.K.: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2008.In 1907 William James was invited to give the Hibbert Lectures at Manchester College, Oxford. Initially he was reluctant to do so since he feared undertaking them would divert him from developing rigorously and systematically some metaphysical ideas (...) of his own that had preoccupied him for some time. [End Page 130]In the end, however, he relented and in the spring of 1908 gave the lectures which were subsequently published as A Pluralistic Universe.As it happened, though, in the course of these lectures James presented some of those metaphysical ideas, though in a popular and informal style appropriate to lecturing. Later on he did get down to working out a systematic metaphysics in proper academic style, but the project was cut short by his untimely death in 1910. The incomplete Some Problems of Philosophy,posthumously published in 1911, recapitulates some major themes of A Pluralistic Universe.When James addressed his Oxford audience, the time was ripe for the advancement of his own brand of metaphysical pluralism and radical empiricism in opposition to the still-regnant forms of monistic idealism as represented by Bradley, Green, and Royce. The hegemony in the philosophical world long enjoyed by idealism was beginning to break up—something noted by James in his first lecture—due in no small part to the very ideas aired in his lectures and the then newly emerging schools of pragmatism and realism. The period between 1914 and 1918 not only rings the death knell of European imperialism but also, significantly, marks the watershed between nineteenth-and twentieth-century philosophy.The argument of A Pluralistic Universerevolves around the Parmenidean conundrum of the one-and-the-many. It is the solution to this problem that was the main bone of contention between James and absolute idealists like F. H. Bradley, T. H. Green, and Josiah Royce. For them, the world in reality is but one thing, though appearing illusorily as many, with a pervasive unity throughout—it is a "block-universe," to use James's expression for it; for James, by contrast, the world is irreducibly many things whose unities are partial and shifting. The gravamen of James's objections to absolute idealism was its monism, though he objected no less strenuously to other ideas associated with it: its doctrine of internal relations; its determinism; and, in particular, its deprecation of experience in favor of concepts (what James condemns as "vicious intellectualism"). James proposed, against this monolithic idealism, the alternative hypothesis of metaphysical pluralism. Here he affirmed the reality of external relations (particularly conjunctions) among things and the continuities within experience, thereby making his empiricism "radical." He approached experience phenomenologically, finding it, not concepts, to be constitutive of reality, the value of concepts being more practical than theoretical. He conceived of the universe as being open-ended, where human agency can make a difference for the better.A subtext of A Pluralistic Universeis James's advocacy of something like [End Page 131]traditional theism in contradistinction to the pantheism of absolute idealism. He rightly notes that the Absolute is not the God of Christianity. He believes that his pluralistic ontology allows for, and the religious experiences of people abundantly attest to, the existence of a personal God, albeit a finite one, with whom communion and commerce is possible. At a deeper, psychological level, though, A Pluralistic Universeis an expression of James's own desire to feel "at home" in the universe, a desire, I should add, that he shares with many protagonists of classic American fiction, and which is perhaps intensified by the experience of inhabiting and accommodating one's self to the relatively unfamiliar New World. He complains about the "foreignness" of the Absolute in objective idealism and of that sovereign God, in traditional theisms, subsisting beyond all human influence or effects.Howard Callaway's recent edition of James's Hibbert Lectures joins the Harvard edition of them, with a foreword by Richard J. Bernstein, as an indispensable volume of James's... (shrink)

_Jokes, Life after Death, and God _has two main tasks: to try to understand exactly what a joke is, and to see whether there are any connections between jokes, on the one hand, and life after death and God, on the other hand. But it pursues other tasks as well, tasks of an ancillary sort. This book devises a general and comprehensive, but brief, theory of jokes. The author begins with critiques of other writers’ views on the subject. 1) (...) Ted Cohen thinks that such a theory is impossible. 2) Ronald Berk, on the other hand, provides just such a theory. And 3) John Morreall provides a general theory of laughter, which may include some things which can be used in a general theory of jokes. 4) Neil Schaeffer, too, provides a general theory of laughter, which makes a big point out of what he calls the “ludicrous context”; but he does include a chapter on jokes. 5) Christopher Wilson offers a general theory of jokes in which he focuses on form and content. And 6) Thomas Werge, in reflecting on the comic, suggests a general theory of jokes which identifies their matter, form, agents, purposes, and beyond these, the underlying shared relational context, which makes it possible for jokes to arise. 7) Bill Fuller’s message is that there is more funniness coming out of two or more heads than out of one, just as Socrates’ message was that there is more clarity coming out of two or more heads than out of one. 8) Umberto Eco feels that monks should laugh, just as ordinary people do; for laughter not only refreshes our seeking spirits, it also illuminates the truth we seek. 9) Simon Critchley, in his reflections on humor, notes that jokes bring on a kind of everyday anamnesis, that they are anti-story stories, that they are like prayers, that they are like philosophy; and that they require a certain underlying context, which is implicitly recognized by both teller and listener, and which renders possible the tension needed to make the punch line work. 10) Martha Wolfenstein, pursuing a psychological analysis of children’s humor, proposes that the underlying motive for telling jokes remains the same from childhood to adulthood, i.e., to transform painful and frustrating experiences so as to extract pleasure from them; and that the agent or productive cause of jokes is the repressing unconscious, as suggested by Freud. As John Morreall has argued, neither the Superiority Theory, nor the Relief Theory, nor the Incongruity Theory appears to work as a general and comprehensive theory. Moreover, these writers talk more about humor and laughter than about jokes. To be sure, a joke is a type of humor. Thus, to say something about humor is to say something, though of a generic sort, about jokes. Similarly, to say something about the laughter caused by humor is to say something, though generic, about the laughter caused by jokes. Most of the authors considered in chapter one are concerned with jokes, and not only with humor as such. Section 11 of chapter one puts together, out of the combined contributions of these authors, what can be considered the beginnings of, some thoughts toward, a general and comprehensive theory of jokes. This task the author illustrates in a concrete way, by looking at individual jokes of different sorts; not, however, without inviting the reader to enjoy these jokes. The author looks particularly at Jewish jokes, Christian jokes, and Islamic jokes, jokes about philosophy and philosophers, yo mama jokes, Italian jokes and Slovak jokes, all of which makes for a clearer understanding of exactly what a joke is. The analysis of general theory is then followed by some views on the morality of jokes and joke-telling, and an analysis of the connection between jokes and life after death, on the one hand, and God, on the other. Throughout the book Bobik offers innumerable examples to heighten our understanding and entertain us. (shrink)

continent. 2.2 (2012): 155–158 Michel Serres. Biogea . Trans. Randolph Burks. Minneapolis: Univocal Publishing. 2012. 200 pp. | ISBN 9781937561086 | $22.95 Conveying to potential readers the significance of a book puts me at risk of glad handing. It’s not in my interest to laud the undeserving, especially on the pages of this journal. This is not a sales pitch, but rather an affirmation of a necessary work on very troubled terms: human, earth, nature, and the problematic world we made. (...) It is this world that aspirates the silence (so to speak), and therefore the subject which, along with the development of the “made world” exports the excess augmentation of the cosmically missing, this silence of the natural, et cetera. Had we learned from Locke that lesson of “labor,” to consume what we need… but perhaps we need more than what matters? Serres’ Biogea has several functions on this manner, if it is indeed a book to be consumed. First, readers searching for novelistic entertainment have a place to dwell. Biogea deserves a place in your back pocket; biographical generosity and poetic fluidity should satisfy most textual fetishes. For lay philosophers who want to refresh their acumen, Biogea deserves a place on the book shelf, one already reads a sorely needed postmodern tune-up here. Serres’ style is clearly French; he leaves few cheese crumbs on his words, rather preciseness and breathing in the work give way to a sweeping manner that breaks the narrative line of sight. A circular narrative and anachronistic fragmentation of terms allows an abyssal atmosphere to swell, if only to pump into the book the externality of its broader text. Biogea aspires to a higher standard and the book, at times, is thinking this negentropic problem too. Univocal, the publisher, has crafted a book appropriate for the hands to hold and the translations are an achievement of an otherwise difficult writer to translate. Terms are the conditions of a broader text. It is important to note that Serres’ content is as much a thinking of terminal ports. There is a regard for the transportation technology of the written word. For me, this is the mark of genius, a craftiness that tells of a book device that I may trust. Serres is an accomplished thinker and a necessary voice to check the putative trendiness of anti-postmodernist and market-driven theory of endless cultural liquidation. Offering interventions on subjectivity as an open system we are given a chance to affirm the human, not merely to discard it, but to engage its poetic image emotion, the calibratory silent sense of the analogic world; the terms on which we base our efforts. 1 The human is the center of its own negation, constantly mediating it. Something deeper at stake appears in the work then, and it is quite obvious from the onset. Certainly, a book is an intensification of possible text and those who brought this actual book into existence have captured a rarity in regards to the subject matter and artistic accomplishment. I mentioned terms as conditions, so let us understand Biogea as bio-yea, a yes to bios . An affirmation of living and accepting presence for all of its defiance of images, words, and things temporal. Therefore Serres’ existence and its existants plays parts; out of linearity and still like a porous bone pumping blood it manufactures into the fleshy life it becomes. Starting from a man named silence chaos emerges, or the man “Old Taciturn” takes up a journey anticipating a great flood. In other words, a development akin to the one in Genesis. In dealing with this ancestral occupation, fusing Genesis with contemporary philosophical terms, Serres initiates this anachronistic fragmentation under the forming subjectivity of his own autobiography. This mutation in the open system is precisely one of Serres’ terms. There an abyss is at work, stated, but also measured by heels on the ground—the abyss dispatching earthen tensions, that which plays our tunes, that which we abide by and recognize in volcanoes, rivers, oceans, earthquakes and weaponry in the battles of the world. Set in later stages of the book, such tensions are harnessed through scientific principles in an attempt to unify the terms of natural force if only to terminate the world. Thus the elevation of the earth into the world is clearly set forth. Here already, and few pages in, a resonance is set forth under appellations such as the river Garonne, a subjectivity as much as it is inhuman, the river is the inhuman that makes us human. I get the sense that Serres is taking up a challenge issued by Wallace Stevens; namely, that the great poems of heaven and hell have been written, but that only the poem of the earth has resisted composition. 2 On this level we cannot avoid the killing factor of silence, given that our cognition blocks its pure, radical obliteration. Thus a silence of attunement to the earth is in a novel dialectic of the rithmic and rhythm. A technological world, a triumph of termination is set forth. If a text imposes its will given the reader who authorizes it, it is made to convey or convect a presupposition to a reader or its inhabitant(s). Text is therefore both, in-content, contenting, contentedness, and in reading it, a way to navigate self-destruction (dis-content). Here then would one note that the “inhuman” reveals itself, “an aperiodic rhythm of lovers and beloved…the sea as our friend…but as our enemy…maternal vivifying sea.” The sea is an open book, or vaginal birth canal, where the engagement of text comes forth: “…woman sea, open vulva.” One sees like the sea, but only after it, when the uninhabitable truth of inhabiting it switches the polarity of the sailors soul: “I was seeing like the sea” (9-11). In other words, we are invited to embrace the nonsense of the visible. At this point I am taken to Jean-François Lyotard’s work The Inhuman , specifically the first entry on negentropy that would be congruent with Serres’ thematic. 3 The human being exports, deports, or transplants its relation through text, through the system— and this is its sense or relation to silence, to music. Unaware of Serres’ proximity to this work, the concept of gender interrelation as regards a solar catastrophe runs clear. It would be, on this basis, that Serres references his peers, the other texts that, as mentioned above, are discarded in philosophy today. For students of philosophy what we have here is perhaps a gift, a needed project. If silence and death are at work, there is a political valence to deal with, and here, much like the domain of the text and the dominion of the reader, we confront the world of natural, fluid violence. The anti-postmodernist critique is in part based on a weak idea that the loss of ideology, of a world vision, motivates the “correlationist” project. 4 Serres seems to offer another way to view this when he notes that whereas persons “sometimes kill,” it is clearly “the collective” that “always kills” (17). What is the collective today, if not an organizing function we never see yet acts in its favor in the name of truth? One feels a sense of enigma here, if only to link to what Stevens remarked of communism as a “grubby faith,” providing this applies for capitalism as well, namely any ideology of progress overly interested in absolutes. Here we get the sense that the inhuman, silence, this type of killing, always killing, could not be matched by human-made, political dynamos. Or that if it comes to an equilibrium, a catastrophe is never too far from us to read with our heels. We are left to note that the forces of nature presuppose and permeate political systems, the more these systems obtain force, the more the system takes upon itself the proper name of nature that motivates its dissemination, albeit falsely. This note, that in an age of ecocide and technological captivity (sustainability and transparency) political regimes won’t grow our soul-learning ears any larger than our tongues, stands clear to us. The promise of technological desubjectification is here pushed aside. Regarding politics, Serres illustrates this fact: Where did this corpse come from? Who was it? Who killed it? I don’t know. I won’t try to find out. I refuse to get vengeance for it. And I only see Garonne. For our victims, today, are the rivers, too. Their waters have irrigated my life, enchanted my thought, invigorated my body; I’ve known them to be threatening, untamable, as dangerous as the sea when it rages. Yes, murderous. They decided to control their courses; dams, sometimes senseless, destroying sites and valleys, reduced entire populations to servile displacements; programs for the irrigation of thirsty farmland, often beneficial of course, completed their drying up.(22) Serres enters into his idea concerning the captivity of language from the natural into a world system: For thousands of years, we have been licking things with our tongues, covering and daubing them so as to appropriate things for ourselves. If language boils down to a convention, this convention took place between the speakers without consulting the thing named, become as a result the property of those who covered it in this way with their drawn or voiced productions. Malfeasance analyzes these acts of appropriation. Thus every inert object, every living thing as well, sleeps under the covers of signs, a little in the way that, today, a thousand posters shouting messages and ugly riots of color drown, with their filthy flood, the landscapes, or better, exclude them from perception because the meaning, almost nil, of this false language and these base images forms an irresistible source of attraction to our neurons and eyes. This appropriation covers the world’s beauty with ugliness. (38-39) Technological concealment coming to bear, we begin to get a sense of another commentary on the condition of sensing, driving home the necessity of a text dealing with such subject matter to be what its terms insist. Thus toward new openings: The new opening. As low beneath our feet as you like, the Biogea opens us to another space, high enough for us to be able to acquire a wisdom there, that of redeveloping this same place differently from our fathers, this place that’s still politically cut up by old hatreds, beneath the flood of tears and blood that we call history. Without this soft place, spiritually very old, but newly conceived in this way, without the juridical construction of a common good, opposed to our filthy ownership, I don’t see how our planet, hard, will survive. Hardness that depends on a softness, material belonging that depends on this temporary rented location (51). Serres enters into a summit on the content and the structure of his work. Archimedes is brought in with the concept of three volcanoes. Meaning fire, but as well earth, water, air. For it was Archimedes’ war machines that sought to lift the earth, thus bringing in the question of principles of science: “can a principle be invented while controlling its consequences?” (66-7). May the earth be put in a sentence, terminated by terminology, appellations, gone wild? By means of these element-dominating laws, this old physicist began to tear nature away from the ancient myths; by a strange return, today we’re plunging our successes back into the anxieties and terrors from which that ancient physics was born. Yes, our new history of science and technology is plunging, today, as though in a loop, into the fundamental human myths from which Empedocles’ first laws came. A major progression and a regression on the nether side of the origins. Consequently, the contemporary time requires that we try to return to that unity in which the principles of hate and love are at the same time human, living, inert and global. We will never attain a deontology of our knowledge and actions without thinking the subjective, the objective, the collective, and the cognitive all together simultaneously. Here, hate and love are the result of these four components.(71) Working then on the concept of fire-starting mirrors to the atomic annihilation of the Second War, Serres works into the subjectivity in question on the matter of rhythm—say rithmic— precisely at that point: Knowledge is changing today. The all-political is dying; the monarchy of the sciences said to be hard is coming to a close. The science of the things of the world will have to communicate just as much as the things of the world do, which do it much better than humans do, who don’t always want to do it. Let’s celebrate two changes this morning. The first one strikes a new blow to our narcissism. No, knowledge and the world don’t resemble our analytical enjoyments of refined cutting up, of endless debates and of exclusions full of hate. They, on the contrary, form a bloc and a sum, alliance and alloys. Uniting the fields of knowledge among themselves the way the things are connected among themselves, the second newness puts into place sets united by interlacing, webs and simplexes that combine with the things of the world, themselves combined, the combined knowledge that understands them.(130-1) Biogea closes on its opening flood thematic, approaching the initial telos of Genesis. Here the trees are brought into a position with atmosphere, the opaque abyssal reservoir, the tomb of the sun, sea in the polarity of the earthen heaven and hell. The poem of the earth then is silent but deadly, indeed, as funny as that phrase is, mainly a tomb gas. The meaning of the living and the non-meaning of things converge in the muteness of the world; this meaning and non-meaning plunge there and come out, the ultimate eddy. Mundus patet: through a fissure, through an opening, a fault, a cleft come noises, calls as small as these apertures. I’m listening, attentive, I’m translating, I’m advancing in the scaled-down meaning and science. Mundus patet: should the world open greatly, it will launch me into its silence. The totality remains silent. Knowledge expanded in elation. White origin of meaning, fountain of joy. (198) Final Remarks One test of a review is the long term trajectory the referee thinks the book will have. I see Serres’ text lending greatly into the vision of Biogea . In fact, in the vision of the novel inquiries of Stephen Jay Gould’s work there is something to be thought on the level of the individual and the species; namely, that humanity and its uniqueness is in its deferral, its thinking and naming, a thinking surrounded by silence that filters into everything, that pulls us through the world, the kinetic pulse we recognize, and all of that we cleave away in the base philosophical maxim of difference itself. Unique individuals are spatial creatures: we dwell, and we ought to get good at it. Yet this is an imaginative space that, if you are crazy enough to believe it, de-term-ine the conditions of its own terms. That is why we are not merely creating spaces on the acceleration of time, or so this ignoramus thinks, to accidentally transcend. Imagination already has this insatiable silence that we drink up and fail to manifest. Space is timeless. The imagination itself, shared by humans for themselves, their objects, and the species as a whole, is a non-defined space of relation; a whole human trajectory as part of nature, and part of worlds that are the other side of thinking nature, the consequence of it, at least our attempt to do so. Our survival is based on our deliberation, our caution, our natural deconstructive sense toward this silence that is already part of the song, sung, singing of this century without end. Good books will let us inhabit this space and recognize a form of life. Serres’ text moves toward dwelling, as noted, in masterful and accessible ways. The pitched battles are the falling replays of anemic and dead politics. As soon as we realize there is humanity, we may be able to enjoy the end of it, our inhuman capability of listening to silence. NOTES 1. See Michel Serres. The Parasite . Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 2007. 2. Wallace Stevens, “Imagination as Value” [ca. 1945], in Collected Poetry and Prose . New York: The Library of America. 1997. 724-39. 3. Jean-François Lyotard. The Inhuman: Reflections on Time . Trans. Geoffrey Bennington & Rachel Bowlby. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 1992. 4. See the introduction: Quentin Melliassoux. After Finitude: An Essay on the Necessity of Contingency . Trans. Ray Brassier. New York: Continuum. 2008. EDITOR'S NOTE: This review was updated on August 8, 2012. Substantial edits include block quotes from the book under review as well as the inclusion of comments from the author. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Princess and the Philosopher: Letters of Elisabeth of the Palatine to Rene DescartesRichard A. WatsonAndrea Nye. The Princess and the Philosopher: Letters of Elisabeth of the Palatine to Rene Descartes. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999. Pp. xiii + 187. Cloth, $57.95. Paper, $18.95.Princess Elisabeth was an acute, persistent critic of Descartes's philosophy. Because he liked her and she was a princess, Descartes did not dismiss her (...) criticisms as he did those of Gassendi and Hobbes. How can an immaterial mind interact with a material body? How can God determine all our actions and yet give us free will? Elisabeth was dissatisfied with Descartes's answer that an all-powerful God can do anything even if we cannot understand how.Andrea Nye analyzes the correspondence between Elisabeth and Descartes to support the thesis that Elisabeth developed and defended a worldly philosophy of life in opposition to the unworldly rules Descartes offered for living a tranquil and happy life. Descartes said she should focus on the separation of the mind from the body to avoid disturbing the intellect with sensory matters. Think positively about such nice things as birds and flowers and not of bad things that happen to one. Descartes told Elisabeth that "there are no events so dreadful, nor so absolutely bad in the judgments of people, that a person of spirit cannot look on them with a bias that makes them appear favorable" (48). If we do our best to find out the right course of action and act accordingly, then even if the results are bad, we have no reason for remorse or recrimination, but can be happy that we have done the best we can. Descartes even says that a person who follows his rules can view everything that happens to him, even the worst, as though these events were taking place in a theatre, for in the end they do not impinge upon the ultimate happiness of one's immortal soul.Elisabeth, earnestly. sardonically, and sometimes with annoyance responds that this is perhaps possible for a single man of independent means with few civil and personal relationships, but for someone engaged in family affairs, royal politics, and social interaction with other human beings, Descartes's philosophy of life is both impossible and wrong. One never knows what is best; even if one did know, it is difficult to carry it out; and finally, if the results are bad, then one is after all responsible. One would be inhuman to deny fault, monstrous to deny moral responsibility. Above all, Elisabeth says, one should not view one's own life as theatre. One must be responsible for oneself and others.Nye casts this as a difference between Descartes's abstract and Elisabeth's particularist approaches to life, but also as a contrast between those who can live a disengaged life and those who cannot. Some of the amusement in Nye's perceptive discussions comes from her showing how Descartes's passions often run away with him, and how Elisabeth gently turns his own rules back onto him. [End Page 277]Nye's analyses of the correspondence are excellent, but she makes some mistakes about the lives of Descartes and Elisabeth. Nye explains Descartes's coolness by his having suffered from a "motherless infancy" (129), even speaking of "the mother's milk denied him as a child" and calling him an "orphan" (156), which he was not. His mother died thirteen months after his birth, but he had a wet nurse. Descartes may never have tasted his own mother's milk, but he was never deprived of nursing. Children were often sent to live with wet nurses for as long as four years, although Descartes is traditionally said to have been raised by his grandmother. In any event, such psychoanalyzing is off the mark.Nye also says that Descartes was asked by Queen Christina to write a ballet. She cites the wrong ballet and attributes a verse from the right ballet incorrectly, but beyond that, there is no evidence either that Descartes wrote verses for a ballet or that Christina asked him to.Then Nye speaks of Descartes's daughter Francine... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Book Reviews St. Auc~stine and Being: A Me$aphyM,cal Essay. By James F. Anderson. (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1965.Pp. viii [i] + 76. Guilders 9.90.) Contemporary students of medieval philosophy, especially those influenced by the writings of Gilson, usually view Augustine as primarily an essentialist in metaphysics, while Aquinas is viewed as some sort of existentialist. This is taken to mean that, whereas Augustine seems to identify being with essence (...) or wha~ a thing is, Aquinas distinguishes between what a thing is and its act of existence. The major contribution of Aquinas to later philosophy is often depicted as this distinction between essence and existence. Perhaps the major interest and value of Professor Anderson's essay is that it contests this currently predominant opinion of the essentialist character of Augustinian metaphysics and calls for a re-evaluation of the supposedly revohi~ionary character of the Thomistic concentration upon the act of existence. It is quite evident that Augustine broke with Plotinus when he asserted that the first principle of all things was God, being itself (ipsum esse), rather than the One, which transcends being. The controversy arises over Augustine's view of the nature of being (esse). For Gilson the notion of being remained for Augustine Neoplatonic, while for Anderson Augustine introduced an existential aspect to the notion of being lacking in Neoplatonic thought. Citing the same texts for support Gilson maintains that Augustine interprets the name of God given in Exodus as "I am he who never changes," while Anderson maintains that Augustine interprets Exodus as asserting that God is being, in the sense of existence, itself. The major point of disagreement between Gilson and Anderson is not whether Augustine regarded being as pre~ dominant, but how Augustine interpreted the notion of being. In some texts Augustine maintsSns that being and immutability mean the same thing, in others he argues that a thing truly is 'because it is immutable, and in yet others he argues that a thing is immutable because it truly is. The first opinion seems to be the one frequently favored as an interpretation of Augustine by Gilson. The second is usually regarded as Neoplatonic. The third is the opinion which Professor Anderson argues was most accurately Augustine's. According to Professor Anderson the first two opinions reflect for Augustine a merely factual connection between being and immutability, whereas the third reflects a metaphysical entailment. I should like to mention three points in Professor Anderson's discussion which seem to me weak. Firstly, as Augustine remarks that being is the name for unchangeableness we cannot take this as asserting a merely factual relationship. Secondly, to say that 'being' and 'immutability ~mean the same thing to Augustine or that being and immutability are identical to him does not necessitate, as Professor Andersen claims, denying the primacy of being. If 'being' and 'immutability' mean the same thing, then it is very peculiar to ask which is primary. If it is remarked that 'triangleI means the same thing as 'three sided figure', what sense does it make to ask which notion is primary? I suspect that Professor Anderson's contention makes sense only if one believes that there is a difference in the meanings of 'being' and 'immutability ', but whether or not there was such a difference for Augustine is precisely the point at issue. Professor Anderson asserts that it would be a "metaphysical inconsistency" to claim that God is both being and immutability, but it is not clear why such a claim would be inconsistent if the two terms in fact mean the same thing (p. 30). Thirdly, if, as is in fact the case, Augustine's remarks on the relationship between immutability and being are inconsistent perhaps we should accept the possibility that Augustine himself never came to a clear view on this matter rather than attempt to surmise what Augustine "must have meant." Of course, such inconsistency in Augustine's writings would tend to support the thesis of Gilson that Augustine has difficulties reconciling his theology and metaphysics. Moreover, the analogy Professor Anderson suggests between the Augustinian mutability-immutability contrast and the Thomistic potency-act contrast could only be a very rough one... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Overcoming Greed:An Eastern Christian Perspective1Valerie A. KarrasAs an Eastern Orthodox Christian, I have chosen to approach the topic of "overcoming greed" from an Eastern Christian perspective, relying particularly on the writings of some of the early theologians of the Greek East. It is not coincidental either that laissez-faire capitalism arose in the Western Christian world, or that the first strongholds of communism developed in Eastern European, traditionally Orthodox, countries. (...) Both phenomena speak to an intrinsic difference in the way in which human beings are conceived as relating to the world and to each other, both personally and communally.The traditional Eastern Christian model of the human person as not simply caretaker of creation, but fundamentally as a mediator uniting all aspects of creation in humanity's own nature,2 has led historically to a general lack of interest in exploiting creation (in fact, the worst environmental problems in the Orthodox world occurred in countries after they came under totalitarian communist domination). Similarly, the Eastern Orthodox emphasis on the relational, and even communal, nature of salvation created an environment hostile to the individualist, exploitative model upon which modern Western economics has been founded (this has been rapidly changing in post-communist Eastern European countries and Russia, however).The Eastern Church identifies this phenomenon of exploitative and abusive relationships toward nature and other persons as a consequence of the fallen condition of humanity, that is, humanity as it currently exists, in a state where our natural communion with God has been ruptured. In this context, Christianity in general and Eastern Christianity in particular recognize greed as one of the passions (equivalent to what Buddhism describes as "cravings") that are part of our fallen human nature, a consequence of our separation from God. Some of the passions are primarily physical in nature, others emotional or psychic, but in fact virtually all passions are a combination of the two.Greed, a passion of both soul and body that is endemic to our current existence, is typical of this understanding. There are two aspects to the vice of greed: (1) the emotional or spiritual dimension, that is, the acquisitive lust that usually betokens either a deep-seated insecurity or, worse, a desire for power and control; and (2) the [End Page 47] external, physical manifestations of greed in the actual acquisition of things, often to the detriment or exploitation of others. Eastern Christian writings attempt to work on both dimensions of the passion of greed, especially the spiritual, while often distinguishing between greed (a moral vice) and wealth (an amoral condition).This article will focus on two early church theologians, Clement of Alexandria and John Chrysostom. In particular, it will focus on their biblical exegeses of two pertinent New Testament passages: Jesus' conversation with a young righteous scholar of the Mosaic Law and the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, respectively. Finally, I will suggest that, for Orthodox Christians, an important key to overcoming greed is disciplined asceticism, to be practiced by all persons and not simply by monks and nuns. Asceticism—the exercise of control over the passions through fasting, prayer, chastity (understood differently for married and unmarried persons), and almsgiving—is the vehicle by which to cultivate an attitude of apatheia or passionlessness, the Christian equivalent of the Buddhist ideal of detachment.Clement was a philosopher-theologian who headed the great Christian catechetical school in Alexandria in the late second century C.E. In his treatise Who IstheRich ManWhoWill Be Saved? 3 Clement mused on the spiritual and soteriological dimensions of greed by reflecting on Jesus' encounter with the wealthy young "lawyer," that is, scholar of the Mosaic Law, who questioned Jesus on how to acquire eternal life. In his response, the young man showed himself righteous in his adherence to the demands of the law, but ultimately unwilling to commit all of himself by giving away his property, even though Jesus said that it was the price to inherit eternal life.Clement pondered whether it were therefore possible for anyone wealthy to be saved, given Jesus' declaration that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Book Reviews St. Auc~stine and Being: A Me$aphyM,cal Essay. By James F. Anderson. (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1965.Pp. viii [i] + 76. Guilders 9.90.) Contemporary students of medieval philosophy, especially those influenced by the writings of Gilson, usually view Augustine as primarily an essentialist in metaphysics, while Aquinas is viewed as some sort of existentialist. This is taken to mean that, whereas Augustine seems to identify being with essence (...) or wha~ a thing is, Aquinas distinguishes between what a thing is and its act of existence. The major contribution of Aquinas to later philosophy is often depicted as this distinction between essence and existence. Perhaps the major interest and value of Professor Anderson's essay is that it contests this currently predominant opinion of the essentialist character of Augustinian metaphysics and calls for a re-evaluation of the supposedly revohi~ionary character of the Thomistic concentration upon the act of existence. It is quite evident that Augustine broke with Plotinus when he asserted that the first principle of all things was God, being itself (ipsum esse), rather than the One, which transcends being. The controversy arises over Augustine's view of the nature of being (esse). For Gilson the notion of being remained for Augustine Neoplatonic, while for Anderson Augustine introduced an existential aspect to the notion of being lacking in Neoplatonic thought. Citing the same texts for support Gilson maintains that Augustine interprets the name of God given in Exodus as "I am he who never changes," while Anderson maintains that Augustine interprets Exodus as asserting that God is being, in the sense of existence, itself. The major point of disagreement between Gilson and Anderson is not whether Augustine regarded being as pre~ dominant, but how Augustine interpreted the notion of being. In some texts Augustine maintsSns that being and immutability mean the same thing, in others he argues that a thing truly is 'because it is immutable, and in yet others he argues that a thing is immutable because it truly is. The first opinion seems to be the one frequently favored as an interpretation of Augustine by Gilson. The second is usually regarded as Neoplatonic. The third is the opinion which Professor Anderson argues was most accurately Augustine's. According to Professor Anderson the first two opinions reflect for Augustine a merely factual connection between being and immutability, whereas the third reflects a metaphysical entailment. I should like to mention three points in Professor Anderson's discussion which seem to me weak. Firstly, as Augustine remarks that being is the name for unchangeableness we cannot take this as asserting a merely factual relationship. Secondly, to say that 'being' and 'immutability ~mean the same thing to Augustine or that being and immutability are identical to him does not necessitate, as Professor Andersen claims, denying the primacy of being. If 'being' and 'immutability' mean the same thing, then it is very peculiar to ask which is primary. If it is remarked that 'triangleI means the same thing as 'three sided figure', what sense does it make to ask which notion is primary? I suspect that Professor Anderson's contention makes sense only if one believes that there is a difference in the meanings of 'being' and 'immutability ', but whether or not there was such a difference for Augustine is precisely the point at issue. Professor Anderson asserts that it would be a "metaphysical inconsistency" to claim that God is both being and immutability, but it is not clear why such a claim would be inconsistent if the two terms in fact mean the same thing (p. 30). Thirdly, if, as is in fact the case, Augustine's remarks on the relationship between immutability and being are inconsistent perhaps we should accept the possibility that Augustine himself never came to a clear view on this matter rather than attempt to surmise what Augustine "must have meant." Of course, such inconsistency in Augustine's writings would tend to support the thesis of Gilson that Augustine has difficulties reconciling his theology and metaphysics. Moreover, the analogy Professor Anderson suggests between the Augustinian mutability-immutability contrast and the Thomistic potency-act contrast could only be a very rough one... (shrink)

“Whatever is, is matter.” Is this all there is to materialism? Is it really nothing more than the result of a kind of metaphysical census? “We have looked around, and all we find is matter. The reports of souls and angels, God and separated intelligences, ideas and essences have all proven false. Whatever is, is matter.” Yet how would I ever come to know such a thing? The issue is not only that I cannot possibly take such a census. More (...) problematically, these purported non-material entities are “discovered” not by observation but through thought or reason. Therefore, a metaphysical census is not enough to discern the non-existence of such non-material beings. What is required for their denial is the very deployment of reason that conjures up their existence in the first place. Therein lies the danger for materialism: to have access to a tool—rational conceptualization—that is not entirely explicable materially. Materialism relies on abstraction just as much as its other. If materialism is not somehow involved with concepts and reason, then it turns out to be what is normally and more properly called myth or theology. Aristotle saw this clearly. If the investigation of nature does not appeal to thought, then “everything is from Night.” There is, then, a tremendous difference between Hesiod’s assertion, “First came Chaos,” and Thales’ position, “All is from water,” i.e., a difference between a mythical positing of a being that, as such, stands beyond reason, and the investigation into the principles that reason can discover. (shrink)

“All Things Are Possible” is a 1920 English translation of the 1905 work by the Ukrainian/Russian existentialist philosopher Shestov. It draws on the aphoristic style of Nietzsche and deals with as diverse issues as science, rationalism and religion. This edition also includes an interesting foreword by D. H. Lawrence. Highly recommended for those with an interest in philosophy, and particularly existentialism. Contents include: “Lev Shestov”, “Note”, “Foreword”, “Zu Fragmentarish Ist Welt Und Leben”, and “Nur Für Schwindelfreie”. Many vintage books (...) such as this are increasingly scarce and expensive. It is with this in mind that we are republishing this volume now in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition complete with a specially-commissioned new biography of the author. (shrink)

The editor suggested my writing an article on the question whether it was possible to provide an ethics based upon principles which would be agreed to by all enlightened men, and he further suggested that I should begin the article by stating clearly what morality is. That is a somewhat difficult task, because while “morality” might be defined as “living as one ought,” it is a very disputable question whether and how this “ought” is itself to be defined, and (...) I could not undertake to deal with this question by the way as an introduction to an article on something else. It is, however, clear that there is another sense of “ought” besides the strictly moral sense. We do use the term in cases where it does not entail that a man is neglecting his moral duty if he does not do what he “ought.” For instance we say: “You ought to have seen that film,” “You ought not to have made that move,” “You ought to have seen through that argument,” even “Hitler ought to have invaded England after Dunkirk” where we should have regarded it as the reverse of a good thing if he had done what we say he ought. In none of these cases are we asserting a moral obligation. For we do not ordinarily regard people as under a moral obligation to seek their own pleasure, nor to make certain moves in a game, and while we should say that in matters of serious concern a person is morally obliged to do his best to form a true view as to the merits of a relevant argument, we should not say that he was morally obliged actually to form a true view, for this does not depend solely on his will. And in the fourth instance the action is one which we should think morally wrong rather than morally obligatory. What is there in common between “ought” as used in these cases and the moral “ought”? It is that in each case the action fits the situation, either wholly, or with certain limitations, as in the last instance where we presumably mean that to invade England would have fitted in better with Hitler's ends in the given environment than did the policy Hitler actually adopted. (shrink)

The poet’s words: “A man’s reach should exceed his grasp” are not merely a command of what ought to be , they are a description of what is. Man has always been stretching himself beyond his own measure. He has a sense of the Infinite: Eternity has been set in his heart: he has not been content to look only on the things seen, his gaze has ever been towards the Unseen. Whatever stage of development he may (...) have reached, he seeks for, and strives after, what is above and beyond himself and his world. In science he tries to get behind the phenomenal reality as his senses apprehend it, to the noumenal , mind. In philosophy he endeavours to bring the multiplicity of his experience, outer and inner, into a unity that will evidence itself to his reason as coherent, and not contradictory. In morality he is not content with the customs and standards of the society of which he is a member; but conscious of their inadequacy, he conceives and aspires to realize an ideal adequate to his nature; his ought to be is always challenging his is . The impulse or motive of progress in all spheres of human interest and activity is “the best is yet to be.”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Scholars of Bonaventure's thought labor under the difficulty that the Seraphic Doctor is more widely admired than read. Yet there is one advantage they may claim: the immense popularity down through the centuries of his magnum opus: the Itinerarium mentis in Deum, "The Journey of the Mind to God." The text is poetic, concise, and dense. It summarizes many points in Bonaventure's philosophy, theology, and spirituality – indeed, it (...) has sometimes been called a summa of his spiritual theology.In the present essay, I offer a proposal for reading the Itinerarium. I do so with two types of readers in mind. One is the Bonaventure scholar, for whom I make certain arguments concerning the logic of the text and its relationship to other works of Bonaventure. The other is the non-specialist who wishes to teach the Itinerarium as a significant part of the Christian theological patrimony. To the latter, I offer a schematic to understand the different elements of the text in their relationship to each other. This guided reading will, I hope, help the teacher to present the scientific power of Bonaventure's theology.I. Preliminary NoteMy preliminary claim is that the Itinerarium is best understood as divided into two trajectories: one involves the three stages of seeing God through the visible world, the soul, and what is above the soul; the other involves the three stages of seeing God in the visible world, the soul, and what is above the soul. This claim might be criticized by readers of the text. Bonaventure gives several possibilities for understanding the structure of the text in the first part of chapter 1, and does not state that one should be privileged above the others. However, as he goes on to explain each stage, the division that keeps reappearing is that of seeing God through and in the visible world, the soul, and what is above the soul. I therefore regard that division as the most significant. In what follows, I first examine certain antecedents to the Itinerarium's structural argument in earlier works of Bonaventure. I then outline the first trajectory, highlighting its similarities and differences with those earlier works, and then the second trajectory, highlighting its uniqueness and proposing a key by which it may be understood. I close with a brief statement of the significance of my reading in light of some recent scholarship.For reference, one may use the following chart, delineating the trajectories.Knowing God through Knowing God inwhat is below the soul chap. 1: the consideration of God through his vestiges in the universe chap. 2: the consideration of God in his vestiges in this visible worldthe soul chap. 3: the consideration of God through his image imprinted on our natural powers chap. 4: the consideration of God in his image reformed through the gifts of gracewhat is above the soul chap. 5: the consideration of the divine unity through its primary name which is Being chap. 6: the consideration of the most blessed Trinity in its name which is the GoodII. Antecedents to This Kind of Consideration of GodA) Knowing God through and inThe distinction between seeing God through and in is not unique to the Itinerarium. It occurs earlier, in the Commentary on the Sentences, in two places. Though the contexts and the language are slightly different, the content of the distinction is the same. To know God through creatures is "to be raised from the knowledge of the creature to the knowledge of God as by way of a intermediate ladder." To know God in creatures is rather to know "his presence and influence in the creature." Bonaventure says further that knowing God through creatures is characteristic of wayfarers, and is a knowledge that is.. (shrink)

What sorts of things are there in the world? Clearly enough, there are concrete, material things; but are there other things too, perhaps nonconcrete or non-material things? Some people believe that there are such things, which are often called abstract ; purported examples of such objects include numbers, properties, possible but non-actual states of affairs, propositions, and sets. Following a long-standing tradition, I shall describe persons who believe that there are abstract objects as ‘platonists’. (...) In this paper, I shall not directly address the plausibility of platonism, as compared with its rivals; instead, I shall confine my attention to one way in which some people have tried to combine platonism and theism. More specifically, I shall concentrate upon the claim that abstract objects depend upon God ontologically ; I shall argue that platonistic theists should reject DEP in favour of the claim that abstract objects exist independently of God . In order to evaluate the relative merits of DEP versus IND, it will be helpful to examine in some detail a particular articulation of DEP. When it comes to recent work on DEP, we can do no better in this regard than to examine the recent work of Thomas V. Morris and Christopher H. Menzel. According Morris and Menzel, there is a sense in which God literally creates such abstracta through engaging in intellective activities. (shrink)

Spinoza’s Ethics must contain some of philosophy’s most baffling statements. All things are animate; the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things: what would I be committed to in agreeing with these doctrines? His austere mode of exposition, sparing of illustrations and discursive explanations, ensures that any answer must be highly speculative.His weakness for dark sayings seems to have communicated itself to some of his best-known commentators. Of course where (...) a philosopher’s thought is itself opaque one would be unreasonable to expect lucidity in a commentator’s exposition of it. However he has been described as holding puzzling, to my mind unintelligible opinions on subjects concerning which, as far as I can see, his own statements more naturally suggest a much clearer and more comprehensible interpretation. There are problems enough in understanding his thought without adding needlessly to the list. I think there has been such an addition in discussion of his doctrines about the causal relationship between God and finite creatures, and this paper is devoted to suggesting another account of his thought on that topic which combines, I think, the advantages of being more intelligible and a more natural construction to place on his own statements, than the set of opinions generally laid at his door. (shrink)

This paper deals with John Wyclif 's account of the fallacia accidentis. To a certain extent Wyclif 's explanations fit in with Aristotle's understanding of language. Aristotle recognises that we can talk about substances in many different ways; we can introduce them by using 'substantial' names, but also by using names derived from the substances' accidental features. The substances are the ultimate foundation of all these expressions. This idea in itself is not opposed to a conceptualist account of language. John (...) Buridan uses Aristotle's principle of categorisation to show how language works, but for him the activity of categorising things is to be explained in terms of our mental activities only. Wyclif, on the other hand, reads much into the requirement that all our linguistic distinctions should have their basis in extramental reality: our conceptualisations not only pertain to individual substances, but also parallel their distinct ontic layers. (shrink)

The poet’s words: “A man’s reach should exceed his grasp” are not merely a command of whatought to be, they are a description of what is. Man has always been stretching himself beyond his own measure. He has a sense of the Infinite: Eternity has been set in his heart: he has not been content to look only on the things seen, his gaze has ever been towards the Unseen. Whatever stage of development he may have reached, he (...) seeks for, and strives after, what is above and beyond himself and his world. In science he tries to get behind thephenomenalreality as his senses apprehend it, to thenoumenal, mind. In philosophy he endeavours to bring the multiplicity of his experience, outer and inner, into a unity that will evidence itself to his reason as coherent, and not contradictory. In morality he is not content with the customs and standards of the society of which he is a member; but conscious of their inadequacy, he conceives and aspires to realize an ideal adequate to his nature; hisought to beis always challenging hisis. The impulse or motive of progress in all spheres of human interest and activity is “the best is yet to be.”. (shrink)

This article arises indirectly out of the development of a particular approach, called ATT-Meta, to the understanding of some types of metaphorical utterance. However, the specifics of the approach are not the focus of the present article, which concentrates on some general issues that have informed, or arisen from, the development of the approach. The article connects those issues to the questions of metaphorical meaning and truth. -/- A large part of the exploration of metaphor in fields such as Cognitive (...) Linguistics and natural language Pragmatics takes metaphor to rest on complex mappings between a target subject matter and a source subject matter (see, e.g., Lakoff 1993, 2008). This is one main way in which some aspects of the source, generally including some structural aspects, can have parallels in the target. It is typical for much, and perhaps the whole, of the meaning of a metaphorical expression to be explained by means of these parallels. We will talk about “parallelism” rather than “isomorphism,” or even “analogy,” because “isomorphism” implies a strict one-to-one correspondence between items in the source scenario and items in the target scenario, and analogy theorists often hold that analogy rests on isomorphism. We wish not to prejudge the question of whether looser, messier forms of parallelism are sometimes needed. Also, we will talk about parallels rather than mappings, because our discussion will embrace the question of parallelism that may be discernible, albeit implicitly, in accounts of metaphor that are not presented as being based on mappings. Three main cases of such accounts are Relevance Theory (RT: e.g., Sperber & Wilson 2008, Wilson & Carston 2006), the categorization-based or "class-inclusion“ approach (Glucksberg 2008), and Ritchie’s (2006) CLST account (Context-Limited Simulation Theory). -/- One main issue we will address is that of substantial non-parallelism that can exist between source and target subject-matters in metaphor: more precisely, the issue that there may be source aspects that are exploited by the utterance and have a deep effect on metaphorical interpretation but that do not themselves have a natural parallel in the target subject-matter (although we will point out that artificial parallels can generally be created). This is part of a broader point that the content of metaphorical discourse should often be seen as being derived in a rather holistic way from several metaphorical bits of the discourse, which conspire to describe some source-domain scenario, rather than being derived by putting together metaphorical meanings of each metaphorical bit (even if each bit could in principle be assigned its own separate metaphorical meaning). As a result, we suggest that it is misguided to think of the propositions making up the content (or, if you like, "meaning“) about the target scenario that is being described is a matter of metaphorical meaning of specific grammatical units such as sentences, clauses or other constituents that a traditional semantic theory would assign propositional meaning to. Rather, grammatical units (that are to be taken metaphorically) have meanings in source-domain terms; content in target-domain terms is derived from the source-domain scenario depicted by those units and fleshed out through inference; and the target-domain content is only (in general) fuzzily relatable to particular grammatical units. This view is on a spectrum at whose extreme point we could place Davidson’s (1984) view that metaphors only have literal (i.e., source-domain) meanings, with other effects on the understander not being a matter of propositional content. However, on our view it is proper to take metaphorical discourse as having non-literal meaning, couched as a collection of propositions, among other things possibly; it is just that the propositions are not to be thought of (in general) as meaning of specific sentences, clauses or other grammatical units rather than of a possibly only fuzzily delineated piece of discourse. -/- A second main concern of the article is the question of how much, and what types of, inference are involved in the derivation of metaphorical meaning. While our own ATT-Meta approach accords with, amongst other accounts, Relevance Theory (RT) as to the centrality of inference in metaphor interpretation, we disagree with RT on its claim that metaphor interpretation is a matter of (a relatively high degree of) concept "broadening“ and (often) "narrowing“. We argue that almost all inference can in fact be theoretically re-described as concept broadening and/or narrowing, and what is left over should be included in the metaphor interpretation process anyway. Thus, the RT claim about broadening and narrowing really just says that inference, of unrestricted type, is involved in metaphor understanding, in accord with what ATT-Meta claims. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Book Reviews St. Auc~stine and Being: A Me$aphyM,cal Essay. By James F. Anderson. (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1965.Pp. viii [i] + 76. Guilders 9.90.) Contemporary students of medieval philosophy, especially those influenced by the writings of Gilson, usually view Augustine as primarily an essentialist in metaphysics, while Aquinas is viewed as some sort of existentialist. This is taken to mean that, whereas Augustine seems to identify being with essence (...) or wha~ a thing is, Aquinas distinguishes between what a thing is and its act of existence. The major contribution of Aquinas to later philosophy is often depicted as this distinction between essence and existence. Perhaps the major interest and value of Professor Anderson's essay is that it contests this currently predominant opinion of the essentialist character of Augustinian metaphysics and calls for a re-evaluation of the supposedly revohi~ionary character of the Thomistic concentration upon the act of existence. It is quite evident that Augustine broke with Plotinus when he asserted that the first principle of all things was God, being itself (ipsum esse), rather than the One, which transcends being. The controversy arises over Augustine's view of the nature of being (esse). For Gilson the notion of being remained for Augustine Neoplatonic, while for Anderson Augustine introduced an existential aspect to the notion of being lacking in Neoplatonic thought. Citing the same texts for support Gilson maintains that Augustine interprets the name of God given in Exodus as "I am he who never changes," while Anderson maintains that Augustine interprets Exodus as asserting that God is being, in the sense of existence, itself. The major point of disagreement between Gilson and Anderson is not whether Augustine regarded being as pre~ dominant, but how Augustine interpreted the notion of being. In some texts Augustine maintsSns that being and immutability mean the same thing, in others he argues that a thing truly is 'because it is immutable, and in yet others he argues that a thing is immutable because it truly is. The first opinion seems to be the one frequently favored as an interpretation of Augustine by Gilson. The second is usually regarded as Neoplatonic. The third is the opinion which Professor Anderson argues was most accurately Augustine's. According to Professor Anderson the first two opinions reflect for Augustine a merely factual connection between being and immutability, whereas the third reflects a metaphysical entailment. I should like to mention three points in Professor Anderson's discussion which seem to me weak. Firstly, as Augustine remarks that being is the name for unchangeableness we cannot take this as asserting a merely factual relationship. Secondly, to say that 'being' and 'immutability ~mean the same thing to Augustine or that being and immutability are identical to him does not necessitate, as Professor Andersen claims, denying the primacy of being. If 'being' and 'immutability' mean the same thing, then it is very peculiar to ask which is primary. If it is remarked that 'triangleI means the same thing as 'three sided figure', what sense does it make to ask which notion is primary? I suspect that Professor Anderson's contention makes sense only if one believes that there is a difference in the meanings of 'being' and 'immutability ', but whether or not there was such a difference for Augustine is precisely the point at issue. Professor Anderson asserts that it would be a "metaphysical inconsistency" to claim that God is both being and immutability, but it is not clear why such a claim would be inconsistent if the two terms in fact mean the same thing (p. 30). Thirdly, if, as is in fact the case, Augustine's remarks on the relationship between immutability and being are inconsistent perhaps we should accept the possibility that Augustine himself never came to a clear view on this matter rather than attempt to surmise what Augustine "must have meant." Of course, such inconsistency in Augustine's writings would tend to support the thesis of Gilson that Augustine has difficulties reconciling his theology and metaphysics. Moreover, the analogy Professor Anderson suggests between the Augustinian mutability-immutability contrast and the Thomistic potency-act contrast could only be a very rough one... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Book Reviews St. Auc~stine and Being: A Me$aphyM,cal Essay. By James F. Anderson. (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1965.Pp. viii [i] + 76. Guilders 9.90.) Contemporary students of medieval philosophy, especially those influenced by the writings of Gilson, usually view Augustine as primarily an essentialist in metaphysics, while Aquinas is viewed as some sort of existentialist. This is taken to mean that, whereas Augustine seems to identify being with essence (...) or wha~ a thing is, Aquinas distinguishes between what a thing is and its act of existence. The major contribution of Aquinas to later philosophy is often depicted as this distinction between essence and existence. Perhaps the major interest and value of Professor Anderson's essay is that it contests this currently predominant opinion of the essentialist character of Augustinian metaphysics and calls for a re-evaluation of the supposedly revohi~ionary character of the Thomistic concentration upon the act of existence. It is quite evident that Augustine broke with Plotinus when he asserted that the first principle of all things was God, being itself (ipsum esse), rather than the One, which transcends being. The controversy arises over Augustine's view of the nature of being (esse). For Gilson the notion of being remained for Augustine Neoplatonic, while for Anderson Augustine introduced an existential aspect to the notion of being lacking in Neoplatonic thought. Citing the same texts for support Gilson maintains that Augustine interprets the name of God given in Exodus as "I am he who never changes," while Anderson maintains that Augustine interprets Exodus as asserting that God is being, in the sense of existence, itself. The major point of disagreement between Gilson and Anderson is not whether Augustine regarded being as pre~ dominant, but how Augustine interpreted the notion of being. In some texts Augustine maintsSns that being and immutability mean the same thing, in others he argues that a thing truly is 'because it is immutable, and in yet others he argues that a thing is immutable because it truly is. The first opinion seems to be the one frequently favored as an interpretation of Augustine by Gilson. The second is usually regarded as Neoplatonic. The third is the opinion which Professor Anderson argues was most accurately Augustine's. According to Professor Anderson the first two opinions reflect for Augustine a merely factual connection between being and immutability, whereas the third reflects a metaphysical entailment. I should like to mention three points in Professor Anderson's discussion which seem to me weak. Firstly, as Augustine remarks that being is the name for unchangeableness we cannot take this as asserting a merely factual relationship. Secondly, to say that 'being' and 'immutability ~mean the same thing to Augustine or that being and immutability are identical to him does not necessitate, as Professor Andersen claims, denying the primacy of being. If 'being' and 'immutability' mean the same thing, then it is very peculiar to ask which is primary. If it is remarked that 'triangleI means the same thing as 'three sided figure', what sense does it make to ask which notion is primary? I suspect that Professor Anderson's contention makes sense only if one believes that there is a difference in the meanings of 'being' and 'immutability ', but whether or not there was such a difference for Augustine is precisely the point at issue. Professor Anderson asserts that it would be a "metaphysical inconsistency" to claim that God is both being and immutability, but it is not clear why such a claim would be inconsistent if the two terms in fact mean the same thing (p. 30). Thirdly, if, as is in fact the case, Augustine's remarks on the relationship between immutability and being are inconsistent perhaps we should accept the possibility that Augustine himself never came to a clear view on this matter rather than attempt to surmise what Augustine "must have meant." Of course, such inconsistency in Augustine's writings would tend to support the thesis of Gilson that Augustine has difficulties reconciling his theology and metaphysics. Moreover, the analogy Professor Anderson suggests between the Augustinian mutability-immutability contrast and the Thomistic potency-act contrast could only be a very rough one... (shrink)

All humans laugh. However, there is little agreement about what is appropriate to laugh at. While laughter can unite people by showing how they share values and perspectives, it is also has the power to separate and divide. Humor that "crosses the line" can make people feel excluded and humiliated. This collection of new essays addresses possible ways that moral and ethical lines can be drawn around humor and laughter. What would a Kantian approach to humor look like? (...) Do games create a safe space for profanity and offense? Contributors to this volume work to establish and explain guidelines for thinking about the moral questions that arise when humor and laughter intersect with medicine, gender, race, and politics. Drawing from the work of stand-up comedians, television shows, and ethicists, this volume asserts that we are never just joking. (shrink)

The past is what happened. History is what we remember and write about that past, the narratives we craft to make sense and meaning out of our memories and their sources. But what does it mean to look at the past and see Nothing? This book redefines Nothing as a historical object and reorients historical consciousness in terms of an awareness of what has and has not been considered worth remembering. "Nothing" has been a catch-all term (...) for everything that is supposedly uninteresting, not happening, all that we have skipped over or is just not there. It will take some (possibly considerable) mental adjustment before we can see Nothing in the way this author has come to think of it, with a capital N. But if we are to transform Nothing into a legitimate historical object, something that exists in the present and has existed in the past, we must see it that way. For Nothing has actually been there all along, in plain sight. When nothing has changed but we think that it should have, we might call that injustice; when nothing happened over a long, slow period of time, we might call that boring. Justice and boredom have histories. So too does being disappointed when nothing happens-for instance, when a forecast end of the world does not occur, and millennial movements have to regroup and recalibrate their predictions. By paying attention to how we understand Nothing to be happening in the present, what it means to "know Nothing" or to "do Nothing," we can begin to ask how those experiences will be remembered. Visually driven, this book explores the ways that modern photographers, artists and writers have depicted ruins, emptiness, and a lack of action. It shows us how the perception that "nothing is the way it was" has produced images and art about memories. The book also analyzes such phenomena as fake historical markers that joke about how "On This Site Nothing Happened" to reflect on our everyday awareness that important events and places from the past be remembered. Most of all, it uncovers the mistake of taking Nothing for granted--because Nothing is happening all the time. (shrink)

For his contribution to the general series of Harper Essays in Philosophy, Hilary Putnam selects only one of several philosophical problems in the interrelated fields of logic and/or mathematics that have interested him, viz. the nominalism-realism issue: Are the "abstract entities" spoken of in these sciences, such as classes, number, functions from various kinds of things to real numbers, things that "really exist" or not? He is concerned to present a detailed argument for his own "qualified realism" rather (...) than a survey of current opinions. He argues persuasively that while a nominalist would like to eliminate all talk of logical classes such as S, M and P in favor of such circumlocutions as "The following schema turns out to be true no matter what words or phrases of the appropriate kind one may substitute for the letters S, M and P," etc., such descriptions avoid references to classes only by replacing them with equally nonphysical entities such as "all possible words, strings of letters, formalized languages," etc., and that the notion of truth or validity itself cannot be applied to physical objects or material inscriptions, but to what sentences mean or say, and the things they say are not physical. He rejects Quine's distinction that first order statements or arguments such as "All crows are black; all back things absorb light, therefore," etc., are logical truths, whereas "For all classes S, M and P, if all S is M and all M is P, then all S is P," are mathematical. This runs counter, he says, to the whole logical tradition. The natural intention of the logician in setting down first-order schemata is to assert implicitly their validity and that itself is a second-order assertion. All logic, therefore, including quantification theory, involves references to classes. This also highlights the difficulty of distinguishing between logic and mathematics in terms of first and second order logic, for if only the former is stipulated to be the proper domain of logic, then we must accept the awkward consequence that validity and implication turn out to be notions that belong to mathematics rather than logic. Since the nominalistic position presents the same problems for mathematics as for logic, Putnam sees no point in trying to draw any sharp distinction between the two, which explains his initial broad interpretation of logic as including all of pure mathematics and also the title of the book. To avoid some of the classical objections to a realistic interpretation of sets, he points up the distinction between a predicative and impredicative conception of set. Whereas the latter speaks of all sets of individuals as a well-defined totality, the former defines "set" only for a particular language N or a hierarchic series of languages, N, N', N", etc. in which it is still nonsensical to speak of "all sets" without qualification, though one can speak of "all" up to any given level in the series. While some form of set theory is necessary for all the sciences, both formal and physical, one can get along with predicative set theory. Putnam's basic argument for realism then comes down to this. Quantification over mathematical entities such as things, real numbers and functions is indispensable for logic, mathematics and the physical sciences and this commits one to accept the existence of such entities. In the final stages of the argument he examines and rejects the alternative options to realism, namely that realistic locutions about such entities represent logically deviant forms of speech, or that mathematical truths are "true by pure convention" or that such "entities" are useful fictions. In the closing paragraphs he indicates two other philosophical problems in logic that merit extensive discussion, namely the problem of equivalent constructions which is relevant to the question of whether mathematics needs "foundations" and the problem of whether we may not have to revise logical principles as we have geometrical ones on the grounds that in some sense logic may have empirical foundations.--A. B. W. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Who or What is the Preembryo?S.J. Richard A. McCormick (bio)IntroductionAlthough widely used by scientists, the term "preembryo" has raised some suspicions. Histopathologist Michael Jarmulowicz (1990), for example, asserts that the term was adopted by the American Fertility Society (AFS) and the Voluntary Licensing Authority (VLA) in Britain "as an exercise of linguistic engineering to make human embryo research more palatable to the general public."I cannot speak for the (...) VLA, but I can clarify that this was not the motive of the AFS. As a member of the AFS ethics committee that discussed and adopted this terminology, I know that our discussion was not tied to embryo research or moral issues. The term "preembryo" was adopted because the earliest stages of mammalian development primarily involve establishment of the nonembryonic trophoblast, rather than the formation of the embryo. As Clifford Grobstein (1988, p. 61), a distinguished basic scientist who also sat on the AFS committee notes:The scientific rationale for the term preembryo... is its greater accuracy in characterizing the initial phase of mammalian and human development.... The status implications of such a change in terminology were not at issue in the discussion.This is not to say that the moral status of the preembryo is not a concern worthy of independent consideration. It is an important question with significant practical implications, especially in the context of in vitro fertilization. At stake are issues such as: (1) what may be done to preembryos before transfer; (2) whether all preembryos must be transferred; and (3) what may be done to preembryos that are not transferred (Ethics Committee of the American Fertility Society (AFS) 1986, p. 29S). Furthermore, emergency treatment of rape cases may also depend on such a determination. [End Page 1]Cryopreservation, which entails freezing unused preembryos for possible later use, is one example of a procedure that raises issues associated with the moral status of the preembryo. Cryopreservation decreases the number of stimulated egg recovery cycles a woman must undergo and increases flexibility in transfer protocols. But thawing of the preembryos is not a completely benign process; significant numbers of the preembryos die in the process and injury cannot be excluded.In addition, down the road a year or so lies preimplantation genetic diagnosis, now being tested in several centers of reproductive research. This would involve the removal of one or more cells from a preembryo developing in vitro. The DNA from these cells would be studied and then only genetically normal preembryos would be transferred. With the growth in knowledge about single gene defects and the rapid advance of amplification technology, which allows gene visualization, it is not difficult to imagine scientists embarking on a variety of micromanipulations of the preembryo for the sake of gaining knowledge.Not all research with gametes involves preembryos, but clearly some experiments and procedures await resolution of the moral status of the preembryo. I contend in this paper that the moral status—and specifically the controversial issue of personhood—is related to attainment of developmental individuality (being the source of one individual). This contrasts with the view that holds that personhood occurs earlier, at the point of genetic uniqueness. I believe that an embryo that has developed to the point where it can be one individual and one individual only, differs in moral status from a preembryo that has not, even if in many cases we may choose to treat them similarly.The Scientific UnderpinningsTwo things must be kept in mind—and in a sense, in tension—in turning to science for help in assessing the status of the preembryo. First, science is not competent to decide the question of personhood or ensoulment. As the Catholic document, Declaration on Procured Abortion, which I will return to later, notes: "It is a philosophical problem" (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) 1974, p. 10, endnote 19). On the other hand, another Catholic document, Donum vitae(CDF 1987), notes that the conclusions of science provide a "valuable indication" for reason's deliberations about personhood. We might say that if science cannot decide the question of personhood, neither can it be decided without science.For my review of embryological science... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 27.2 (2003) 284-303 [Access article in PDF] Accidental Art:Tolstoy's Poetics of Unintentionality Michael A. Denner I ART'S ABILITY TO INFECT another with an emotion, the concept that has come to be probably the most readily identified catchphrase in What Is Art? (though it crops up in his earlier writings on art), derives from L. N. Tolstoy's dynamic identity claim about art: we know an artist (...) has created a genuine work of art when he "hands on to others feelings he has lived through, and that others are infected by these feelings and also experience them." 1 "What is art?" is then a taxonomical question, and, according to Tolstoy, art is identifiable from non-art not by some set of external characteristics—the way, say, Aristotle categorized animals in his natural history—rather art is recognizable by its function, by what it does. In this sense art is like a tool: A given thing is art because it performs a certain task, much as one might claim a screwdriver is anything that sets and removes screws, regardless of its external characteristics. Tolstoy, in fact, repeatedly refers to art as "orudie," "a tool," or even "a weapon."It is worth noting from the outset that this metaphor of contagiousness is one of sublimated violence. For its passive "perceiver" (Tolstoy's characteristic term for the consumer of art), art amounts to irresistible, surreptitious emotional manipulation by an external entity. Tolstoy is ever attentive to the underlying meanings of the words he chooses, and I think he means to emphasize the latent, etymological meaning of the zarazit', to infect, the root of which is razit', to strike, a military term that likely resonated with Tolstoy, a war veteran. 2 Etymological arguments aside, Tolstoy makes explicit the psychological violation that goes hand-in-hand [End Page 284] with the experience of a work of art in a diary entry from a period of work on an earlier variant of What Is Art?: "One must hone the artistic work so that it penetrates. To hone a work means to make it perfect artistically, in which case it will pierce through the indifference...." 3 In an earlier version of the essay, Tolstoy offers "hypnotism" as a synonym for infection (p. 53).With its ability to "penetrate" through indifference and colonize, willy-nilly, the other, art accomplishes directly and immediately what no amount of rational argument could accomplish: "Art is differentiated from the activity of rational activity, which demands preparation and a certain sequence of knowledge (so that one cannot learn trigonometry before knowing geometry), by the fact that it acts on people independently of their state of development and education, that the charm of a picture, of sounds, or of forms, infects any man whatever his plane of development" (p. 178).The effect of art does not depend on some graduated, sequential process as it does for rational activity: art's infectiousness is immediate and irresistible. According to What Is Art?, the summum bonum of art's infectiousness, its best use, but notably not its only, is bringing about the Kingdom of God by effecting a change in the psychology of all the individuals who experience it. "Religious art," Tolstoy's supreme category of art, surmounts the (ultimately illusory for Tolstoy) individuality of the perceiver by inducing in him or her an emotional union with the artist and all others who have experienced the work of art, thereby inducting all perceivers into the universal collective of humankind: "In this freeing of our personality from its separation from other people, from its isolation, in this uniting of personality with others, lies the chief characteristic and the great attractive force of art" (p. 228). Art is a sacrament and the artist a priest of sorts.It is often said, even by those who have read the work, that Tolstoy "rejected" art in the last decades of his life, and What Is Art? is often cited as evidence. Granted, much of the book excoriates much of the art of the ages, but one must not... (shrink)

In the 21stcentury, there is a turn of thinking toward its reorientation first of all to the human as an author of thought and not to the nature, existing independently of us and of the process of scientific knowledge obtaining. It is possible to see the difference of these two types of thinking in the context of dialogue between W. Whewell’s philosophy and the scientific investigations after the scientific revolution in the beginning of the 20thcentury. In the philosophy of 21stcentury, (...) man is a social being and this is the basis of social philosophy. The artificial world around us is created by a human, it has its foundation in the laws of thinking but not the laws of nature. The foundations of both systems are quite different. In what way can we achieve mutual understanding between them? From both sides some aspects can be put forward, for instance, the concept of a mediator of a thought. This concept is studied actively by W. Whewell and by philosophers of our time, and this leads in both cases to some unexpected interpretation of the basic question of philosophy: the border between thing and thought is becoming less noticeable. We can come to the same result, going by different ways. Whewell finds common qualities for some group of things. Social philosophers are interested in what makes things different. Not one of these idealizations corresponds completely to the reality. Always something is not taken into consideration. A thinker chooses out of real world some of its characteristics that become a basis of a thought system, which explains everything but in its own way. The paper demonstrates the way of possible creation of a new type of thinking. (shrink)

We present the inconsistency-adaptive deontic logic DP r , a nonmonotonic logic for dealing with conflicts between normative statements. On the one hand, this logic does not lead to explosion in view of normative conflicts such as O A ∧ O ∼A, O A ∧ P ∼A or even O A ∧ ∼O A. On the other hand, DP r still verifies all intuitively reliable inferences valid in Standard Deontic Logic (SDL). DP r interprets a given premise set ‘as normally (...) as possible’ with respect to SDL. Whereas some SDL-rules are verified unconditionally by DP r , others are verified conditionally. The latter are applicable unless they rely on formulas that turn out to behave inconsistently in view of the premises. This dynamic process is mirrored by the proof theory of DP r. (shrink)

Ours is a literal world. We spend so many words arguing the fundamental truth of a few ancient metaphors that we finally close them to personal meaning. Or we commit our energies to washing every literary form and figure of speech cleanly away to protect our definitions of correctness and to make everyday thinking even safer. But the arguing gives us doctrines. And the purging denies us poetry. And when all the metaphors are gone, we find we've lost the richest (...) ways of knowing. We find we've even narrowed the possibility. Divina is a line of speculative, dimensional, and metaphorical books that will Challenge conventional wisdom, Offer alternative theories, Recreate noumenal experiences, Reach for poetry, and Promise other ways of knowing. The most rewarding reading addresses us personally and challenges what we believe. Divina will bring you books that do just that, chosen and published with the same dedication and editorial sensibility that have established our commitment t literary quality.An ambitious, open-minded inquiry revealing that science itself may be the language of the creator. (shrink)

This is a competent and sympathetic introduction to the life and thought of Leibniz. It reads, on the surface, like an encyclopedia article or a chapter in a critical history of philosophy. But there is a meta-critical strain governing the exposition. Within a limited space, Van Peursen has molded a presentation which manages to balance considerations of what was central to Leibniz' philosophy from Leibniz' point of view with issues which have special relevance for contemporary philosophy. For example, Van (...) Peursen devotes his longest chapter, "The Logic of an Optimal World: Truth, Freedom, God," to the teleological and ethical roots of Leibniz' ontology. Leibniz preferred to stress the nature/grace and best-of-all-possible-worlds aspects of this teleological ontology. But contemporary philosophy has difficulty relating to this way of expressing the Platonic notion of the primacy of the good over the true. So Van Peursen, while not neglecting Leibniz' focus, also draws attention to a modern reworking of this point: the idea, familiar to contemporary semiotic, that syntactics must ultimately be grounded in pragmatics. Beginning students will find this introduction readable and genuinely helpful. Teachers of philosophy will benefit from the author's historical acuity as well as the clarity of exposition. An index and a brief bibliography are included.--E. A. R. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Who or What is the Preembryo?S.J. Richard A. McCormick (bio)IntroductionAlthough widely used by scientists, the term "preembryo" has raised some suspicions. Histopathologist Michael Jarmulowicz (1990), for example, asserts that the term was adopted by the American Fertility Society (AFS) and the Voluntary Licensing Authority (VLA) in Britain "as an exercise of linguistic engineering to make human embryo research more palatable to the general public."I cannot speak for the (...) VLA, but I can clarify that this was not the motive of the AFS. As a member of the AFS ethics committee that discussed and adopted this terminology, I know that our discussion was not tied to embryo research or moral issues. The term "preembryo" was adopted because the earliest stages of mammalian development primarily involve establishment of the nonembryonic trophoblast, rather than the formation of the embryo. As Clifford Grobstein (1988, p. 61), a distinguished basic scientist who also sat on the AFS committee notes:The scientific rationale for the term preembryo... is its greater accuracy in characterizing the initial phase of mammalian and human development.... The status implications of such a change in terminology were not at issue in the discussion.This is not to say that the moral status of the preembryo is not a concern worthy of independent consideration. It is an important question with significant practical implications, especially in the context of in vitro fertilization. At stake are issues such as: (1) what may be done to preembryos before transfer; (2) whether all preembryos must be transferred; and (3) what may be done to preembryos that are not transferred (Ethics Committee of the American Fertility Society (AFS) 1986, p. 29S). Furthermore, emergency treatment of rape cases may also depend on such a determination. [End Page 1]Cryopreservation, which entails freezing unused preembryos for possible later use, is one example of a procedure that raises issues associated with the moral status of the preembryo. Cryopreservation decreases the number of stimulated egg recovery cycles a woman must undergo and increases flexibility in transfer protocols. But thawing of the preembryos is not a completely benign process; significant numbers of the preembryos die in the process and injury cannot be excluded.In addition, down the road a year or so lies preimplantation genetic diagnosis, now being tested in several centers of reproductive research. This would involve the removal of one or more cells from a preembryo developing in vitro. The DNA from these cells would be studied and then only genetically normal preembryos would be transferred. With the growth in knowledge about single gene defects and the rapid advance of amplification technology, which allows gene visualization, it is not difficult to imagine scientists embarking on a variety of micromanipulations of the preembryo for the sake of gaining knowledge.Not all research with gametes involves preembryos, but clearly some experiments and procedures await resolution of the moral status of the preembryo. I contend in this paper that the moral status—and specifically the controversial issue of personhood—is related to attainment of developmental individuality (being the source of one individual). This contrasts with the view that holds that personhood occurs earlier, at the point of genetic uniqueness. I believe that an embryo that has developed to the point where it can be one individual and one individual only, differs in moral status from a preembryo that has not, even if in many cases we may choose to treat them similarly.The Scientific UnderpinningsTwo things must be kept in mind—and in a sense, in tension—in turning to science for help in assessing the status of the preembryo. First, science is not competent to decide the question of personhood or ensoulment. As the Catholic document, Declaration on Procured Abortion, which I will return to later, notes: "It is a philosophical problem" (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) 1974, p. 10, endnote 19). On the other hand, another Catholic document, Donum vitae(CDF 1987), notes that the conclusions of science provide a "valuable indication" for reason's deliberations about personhood. We might say that if science cannot decide the question of personhood, neither can it be decided without science.For my review of embryological science... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Levinas on Art and AestheticismGetting “Reality and Its Shadow” RightRichard A. Cohen (bio)1. The Standard Misreading of Levinas on Arta. IntroductionMuch has been written in the secondary literature about Levinas and art and about Levinas and literature more specifically. In addition to Maurice Blanchot’s observations in The Writing of the Disaster, which is more a primary text than a secondary source, two exceptional studies — well-written, insightful, nuanced, erudite (...) — in English on Levinas and literature are Robert Eaglestone’s book of 1997 entitled Ethical Criticism: Reading after Levinas and Jill Robbins’s 1999 book entitled Altered Reading: Levinas and Literature.1 No doubt there are other fine studies, but these two will be sufficient for our purposes. They are scholarly in the best sense, effecting to understand Levinas first of all, hence hermeneutically sympathetic, and at the same time taking critical distances, articulating reservations, basically unconvinced by Levinas’s claims. Unfortunately, given all their considerable virtues, these books are also hampered by a serious flaw, one that unhappily appears in all too much of the secondary literature on Levinas and art. [End Page 149] Despite their good will and intelligence, both books fundamentally misunderstand the relation of Levinas’s thought on and to art, and thus also his relation to literature more specifically, because they misconstrue the nature and the status of Levinas’s account of art within his philosophy. Surely this is serious and unfortunate. One aim of the present essay is to expose this flaw, despite its pervasiveness and entrenchment. Another aim, more positive and ultimately the means by which to accomplish the first, is to present a faithful account of what Levinas really has to say about art.Counter to the misgivings leveled against Levinas in the above two books, not to mention the many commentaries that repeat more or less the same things, the present article proposes two theses in his defense. To the charge that Levinas has misrepresented art, my first claim is that Levinas does not misrepresent art and, indeed, that he has a fine sense of it. To the charge that Levinas is hostile to art, my second claim is that Levinas is not at all hostile to art, one sign of which — noticed by both critics — is the literary and aesthetic references that abound in his own writings. That is to say, contrary to his critics, Levinas grasps quite well the nature and the value of art. His own literary practices, found throughout his own writings, some of them quite obvious, such as exegeses of Shakespeare and repeated citations taken from Dostoevsky and Grossman, not to mention a wealth of other references and allusions to artists and writers, and, of course, including explicit comments and discussions about art, all these are consistent with and help underwrite my larger claim that Levinas understands and values art and, indeed, that he understands it very well and values it highly.To be sure, and no one can mistake this, Levinas’s philosophy is ultimately an ethics and not an aesthetics. The ultimum verbum belongs not to aesthetics but to moral responsibility and the quest for justice. It is here, for those who would make aesthetics ultimate, that the rub lies, here that we find the spur and speculum for their distortion and darkening of Levinas on art. All the more necessary, then, are the two sides of the present essay: to understand properly what Levinas is saying by means of a careful reading of his one article devoted entirely to [End Page 150] art, “Reality and Its Shadow,” to discern in as unprejudiced a fashion as possible what Levinas actually has to say about art and its value, and by so proceeding to unmask the inadequacies of Levinas’s aesthetic critics. Getting Levinas right certainly does not foreclose criticism, by any means. It is, nevertheless, the first step to serious criticism or to acceptance. Getting him wrong, however, goes nowhere at all, because it has not even begun.Inasmuch as their mishandling of Levinas is in an important sense basically the same, in the following I treat Robbins’s Altered Reading and Eaglestone’s... (shrink)

In physics, the temporal dimension has units of infinitesimally brief duration. Given this, how is it possible to perceive things, such as motion, music, and vibrotactile stimulation, that involve extension across many units of time? To address this problem, it is proposed that there is what is termed an “information construct of happening” (ICOH), a simultaneous representation of recent, temporally differentiated perceptual information on the millisecond time scale. The main features of the ICOH are (i) time marking, semantic (...) labeling of all information in the ICOH with ordinal temporal information and distance from what is informationally identified as the present moment, (ii) vector informational features that specify kind, direction, and rate of change for every feature in a percept, and (iii) connectives, information relating vector informational features at adjacent temporal locations in the ICOH. The ICOH integrates products of perceptual processing with recent historical information in sensory memory on the subsecond time scale. Perceptual information about happening in informational sensory memory is encoded in semantic form that preserves connected semantic trails of vector and timing information. The basic properties of the ICOH must be supported by a general and widespread timing mechanism that generates ordinal and interval timing information and it is suggested that state‐dependent networks may suffice for that purpose. Happening, therefore, is perceived at a moment and is constituted by an information structure of connected recent historical information. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Sacredness of Nature: Response to Six Objections to Religious NaturalismDonald A. Crosby (bio)The poet Mary Oliver speaks as a kind of religious naturalist when she writes in her book of prose and poetry Winter Hours, “I would not be a poet without the natural world. Someone else could. But not me. For me, the door to the woods is the door to the temple. Under the trees, along (...) the pale slopes of sand, I walk in an ascendent relationship to rapture, and with words, I celebrate the rapture. I see, and dote upon, the manifest.”1 She speaks as a poet and not as a philosopher or religious scholar, but she does so as one who is ardently in touch with the sacredness of nature. Her vocation as a poet is testimony to this constant attunement. Her daily walks in the woods and by the sea are her portals of access to the temple of the natural world. Her every step makes contact with holy ground.Oliver’s poetic vocation shows itself to be in deep sympathy with all of the living and nonliving aspects of nature, and thus with the imminent ecological crisis of our time, when she reflects later in this same book, “The farthest star and the mud at our feet are a family; and there is no decency or sense of honoring one thing, or a few things, and then closing the list. The pine tree, the leopard, the Platte River, and ourselves—we are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together. We are each other’s destiny.”2Poet, philosopher, religious scholar, ecologist, and perceptive human being are bound together in Mary Oliver’s alert responses to the sacredness of nature. She captures in both her poetic and prose writing the essential spirit and outlook of religious naturalism. I do not claim that she is a religious naturalist; that would be going beyond what I am capable of knowing. But she certainly sounds like one in many respects throughout the poetry and prose of this book.I want us to keep constantly in mind her spirit and outlook as we ponder the cogency, adequacy, and appeal of religious naturalism as a way of thinking and living religiously, for they are the ultimate tests of that adequacy. I want us to do so by considering objections of various sorts arguing that religious [End Page 24] naturalism fails to be sufficiently religious in the way of satisfying the deepest discernments, needs, hopes, and foundations of authentic religious faith. My plan for this essay is to present what I surmise to be some of the most substantive objections, and to reply to each of them in turn.I do so in defense of the thesis that religious naturalism—at least as I have come to interpret and understand it over many years—is a strong contender for having an honored place among the religions of the world. My personal conception of religious naturalism is of course only one of many, and other religious naturalists might have different kinds of response to at least some of these objections. But my responses indicate the capability of religious naturalism to take such objections seriously into account and to provide plausible answers to them.The objections I want to respond to in this essay are six in number. All of them, as will be seen, assume a kind of panpsychism or the primordiality of some kind of mind or spirit, a view I find unnecessary and tending strongly toward an untenable mind-matter dualism in my defense of religious naturalism. 3 The first one is that nature by itself has no overarching purpose or reason for being. The second is that if mind and spirit are emergent rather than primordial, then they are reducible to blind physical processes, meaning that religion is implausibly reduced to physics. The third objection is that nature is just a mass of meaningless facts, with no objective, dependable values of any kind, including religious values. The fourth objection is that with impersonal nature rather than a personal, loving, God as its focus, religious naturalism lacks essential divine... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Levinas on Art and AestheticismGetting “Reality and Its Shadow” RightRichard A. Cohen (bio)1. The Standard Misreading of Levinas on Arta. IntroductionMuch has been written in the secondary literature about Levinas and art and about Levinas and literature more specifically. In addition to Maurice Blanchot’s observations in The Writing of the Disaster, which is more a primary text than a secondary source, two exceptional studies — well-written, insightful, nuanced, erudite (...) — in English on Levinas and literature are Robert Eaglestone’s book of 1997 entitled Ethical Criticism: Reading after Levinas and Jill Robbins’s 1999 book entitled Altered Reading: Levinas and Literature.1 No doubt there are other fine studies, but these two will be sufficient for our purposes. They are scholarly in the best sense, effecting to understand Levinas first of all, hence hermeneutically sympathetic, and at the same time taking critical distances, articulating reservations, basically unconvinced by Levinas’s claims. Unfortunately, given all their considerable virtues, these books are also hampered by a serious flaw, one that unhappily appears in all too much of the secondary literature on Levinas and art. [End Page 149] Despite their good will and intelligence, both books fundamentally misunderstand the relation of Levinas’s thought on and to art, and thus also his relation to literature more specifically, because they misconstrue the nature and the status of Levinas’s account of art within his philosophy. Surely this is serious and unfortunate. One aim of the present essay is to expose this flaw, despite its pervasiveness and entrenchment. Another aim, more positive and ultimately the means by which to accomplish the first, is to present a faithful account of what Levinas really has to say about art.Counter to the misgivings leveled against Levinas in the above two books, not to mention the many commentaries that repeat more or less the same things, the present article proposes two theses in his defense. To the charge that Levinas has misrepresented art, my first claim is that Levinas does not misrepresent art and, indeed, that he has a fine sense of it. To the charge that Levinas is hostile to art, my second claim is that Levinas is not at all hostile to art, one sign of which — noticed by both critics — is the literary and aesthetic references that abound in his own writings. That is to say, contrary to his critics, Levinas grasps quite well the nature and the value of art. His own literary practices, found throughout his own writings, some of them quite obvious, such as exegeses of Shakespeare and repeated citations taken from Dostoevsky and Grossman, not to mention a wealth of other references and allusions to artists and writers, and, of course, including explicit comments and discussions about art, all these are consistent with and help underwrite my larger claim that Levinas understands and values art and, indeed, that he understands it very well and values it highly.To be sure, and no one can mistake this, Levinas’s philosophy is ultimately an ethics and not an aesthetics. The ultimum verbum belongs not to aesthetics but to moral responsibility and the quest for justice. It is here, for those who would make aesthetics ultimate, that the rub lies, here that we find the spur and speculum for their distortion and darkening of Levinas on art. All the more necessary, then, are the two sides of the present essay: to understand properly what Levinas is saying by means of a careful reading of his one article devoted entirely to [End Page 150] art, “Reality and Its Shadow,” to discern in as unprejudiced a fashion as possible what Levinas actually has to say about art and its value, and by so proceeding to unmask the inadequacies of Levinas’s aesthetic critics. Getting Levinas right certainly does not foreclose criticism, by any means. It is, nevertheless, the first step to serious criticism or to acceptance. Getting him wrong, however, goes nowhere at all, because it has not even begun.Inasmuch as their mishandling of Levinas is in an important sense basically the same, in the following I treat Robbins’s Altered Reading and Eaglestone’s... (shrink)

This work, a reworked doctoral thesis written for Roland Bainton at the Yale Divinity School, begins with an announcement of a specific scholarly purpose: "To clarify the relationship between the clergy and the magistracy which grew out of Zwingli's reforming work at Zurich... the main focus of the study is upon the early stages of Zwingli's career at Zurich.... The ensuing study accepts the assumption that Zwingli believed in a Christian society ruled by two God-ordained officers, the magistrate and the (...) pastor, and asks 'What place did Zwingli assign to the magistrate and the clergy in order to realize the rule of God?'" Using as his model the German habilitations schrift, the author exhausts every possible aspect of Zwingli's theological and political thought. All of Zwinglian scholarship is summarized here, and problems in Zwingli's thought are dealt with emphasizing its development and its contradictions. Basically Walton argues that most of the scholarship about Zwingli is wrong because it assumes that Zwingli advocated domination of the government by the clergy. Zwingli was a defender of a theory of government which envisaged a co-operation between the spiritual and secular authority in a Christian society in order to realize the will of God. Walton finds that Zwingli's success in reforming Zurich was based upon the fact that his formulation of a Church-State detente conformed to pre-existing conditions in that city. Zurich was dominated by a corporate form of government which had already permitted the magistracy to take on a semi-sacral character. Zwingli, Walton argues, fit his theory of government to the conditions as they existed at Zurich. This is a book for Zwingli aficionados. It is an example of extremely well-done Continental scholarship: precise, insightful, and dry. No doubt the work has already become a definitive work on Zwingli's notion of theocracy.--W. A. J. (shrink)

The problem of suffering is essentially a problem in philosophical theology. For many philosophical systems the phenomena of suffering set no special problem at all. The most influential philosophies of the present age, for example, have almost nothing to say on the subject—and there is no reason why, on their metaphysical; principles, they should say anything. The problem is a relevant one only for those philosophies which claim to be in at least general accord with the “religious interpretation of the (...) universe.” But for them it is crucial. Given a Weltanschauung like that of Absolute Idealism, for which the ultimate principle from which all things derive their being is an Infinite and Perfect Spirit, and it becomes at once a clear obligation to offer some explanation of how we are to reconcile the Goodness of God with the existence in the world of so much suffering which is prima facie just bad. As we all know, the problem is an extraordinarily hard one to solve. But, inasmuch as the religious interpretation of the universe demands its solution as a condition of its own possibility, its importance is proportionate to its difficulty. (shrink)

This paper uses certain of Michel Foucault's ideas concerning modern consciousness (from The Order of Things) to illuminate a central paradox of the schizophrenic condition: a strange oscillation, or even coexistence, between two opposite experiences of the self: between the loss or fragmentation of self and its apotheosis in moments of solipsistic grandeur. Many schizophrenic patients lose their sense of integrated and active intentionality; even their most intimate thoughts and inclinations may be experienced as emanating from, or under the (...) control of, some external being or mysterious foreign soul (‘I feel it is not me who is thinking’; ‘I have been programmed’). Yet the same patients may also experience the self as preeminent, all-powerful or all-knowing (‘My thoughts can influence things’; ‘This event happens because I think it'). Here one may feel confronted with the very paradigm of irrationality: profound contradictions suggesting regression to primitive ‘primary-process’ thinking or utter collapse of the higher faculties of mind. I argue, however, that these dualities so basic to schizophrenia can best be understood very differently: as consequences of a kind of alienation and hyper-self-consciousness (‘hyper- reflexivity') that is closely analogous to what occurs in the post-Kantian era of Western intellectual history. The parallel dualities of modern thought have been most extensively discussed by Foucault, who describes paradoxes, tensions and other dilemmas central to what he calls the modern ‘episteme'; these result from what Foucault sees as the modern human being's introverted and ultimately self-deceiving preoccupation with, and overvaluing of, the phenomenon of his own consciousness. Parallels between these contradictions and those characteristic of several withdrawn schizophrenic individuals are described and analysed. The paper concludes with an Afterword in which some possible neurobiological underpinnings of these schizophrenic experiences are discussed. (shrink)

How does our conception of possibility contribute to our understanding of self and world? In what sense does the possible differ from the merely probable, and what would it mean to treat possibility as part of the real? This book is an opportunity to see Kierkegaard as contributing to a distinctive phenomenology, ontology, and psychology of possibility that addresses the question of our existential relationship to the possible. The term 'possibility' (Mulighed) and its variants occur with curious frequency (...) across Kierkegaard's writings. Key to Kierkegaard's understanding of the self, possibility is linked to a number of core concepts in his works: from imagination, anxiety, despair, and 'the moment' to the idea in The Sickness Unto Death that “God is that all things are possible”. Responding to what he sees as a Hegelian and Aristotelian misunderstanding of possibility, Kierkegaard offers a novel reading of the possible that, in turn, directly influences 20th-century philosophers such as Heidegger, Deleuze, and Derrida. Kierkegaard gives a rich account of how anxiety and despair, as lived experiences of possibility, not only show us the contingency and fragility of the systems and identities we presently inhabit but also reveal a more fundamental contingency that demands a new way of relating to the possible. For Kierkegaard, hope, faith, and love are attitudes in which meaning is forged by embracing contingency. In a time of political, social, and environmental uncertainty Kierkegaard's work on radical possibility seems more relevant than ever. (shrink)

Reilly approaches his topic by presenting the spirit of science and the phases of scientific inquiry as Peirce saw it, keeping before the reader, at all times, Peirce’s overarching view of man and the universe. The two prevailing themes guiding Peirce’s thought are 1) that there is a special conformity of the human mind to nature and of nature to God, and 2) that there is an architectonic qualifying all the various types and levels of treatment which occupy the philosopher’s (...) interest. The first question examined is the nature of the scientific concern. For Peirce, the scientist’s spirit is marked by the pure love of knowledge. It is important to note the theoretical aspect because it explains the possibility of holding belief in abeyance while examining nature: the purity of motive allows that proper questions will be asked and errors will be readily corrected. The scientist’s purpose is the real truth of things; he begins with questions about the world. There are four stages of scientific method: 1) The scientist observes nature as a thinking, analytic inquirer. Observation presupposes that nature is intelligibly structured. 2) He formulates an explanatory hypothesis which is a process of bringing a manifold of characters to a unified whole. 3) By deduction, the inquirer gathers experiential consequents of the hypothesis. 4) By induction the question is put to nature and observed phenomena are matched to the predicted phenomena, resulting in either truth or a modified hypothesis. Peirce’s principle of the kinship of man’s mind to nature supports his dictum to follow instinct over reasoned likelihood in choosing hypotheses. Also important is the doctrine of moderate fallibilism which holds that there is a convergence upon the truth founded upon the regularity of nature, but that chance is a real factor due to nature’s evolution. Reilly’s book gives an adequate account of the aspects of Peirce’s scientific method sacrificing specific and detailed analysis to a more general approach wherein he shows the unity operative throughout Peirce’s thinking. A good index and copious notes are provided.—W. A. F. (shrink)

This is a rich and rewarding book although its richness will be easily overlooked. It is in fact one of the first efforts to return American theology to one of its classical traditions, a theology of religious experience, not in the manner of scientism but religious experience in the manner of everyday human orientation. A review of this book may easily leave the impression of sentimental piety and lack of realism. Nothing could be further from the truth. The book is (...) anti-sentimental, post-secular theology, and post-existential. It is a new treatise on religious affection. What for many are abstract or empty theological categories are here given a direct and immediate meaning in everyday experience even in the midst of technological society. Modern man, identified as radial man in a radial world, lives in the presence of power with the problem of appropriating this power. To analyze this situation and in addition to more familiar thinkers, the author draws on often neglected sources which nevertheless have a living influence in his history—Edwards, Schleiermacher, Bunyan, Coleridge, and the New England Divine David Brainard. Conscious of the secularization of our day, but not in the tradition of "Death of God" theology, he isolates and analyzes the immediate and meaningful character of religious experience even in secular society. There also one seeks orientation to the powers which impinge upon one providing the central feature of religion. Faith is distinguished from both rationalism and voluntarism while returning to the Edwardian concept of "religious affection" as a total personal response to these powers. As power makes its impact upon us experientially in suffering, believing finds its place as a "form of valuing with self-restraint," and as "admiring with humility." Believing in God involves the self being diminished and enlarged, both fear and gladness, the experiential center of justification by grace through faith. The author offers thereby an elaboration of Kantian categories which provides conditions of experience. Those who expect an experiential approach to religion to be more scientific will be disappointed, and those who wish greater exactness will find the categories too metaphorical, but those who read with any religious sympathy and sensitivity will find not only a rewarding analysis of human experience but also a new direction in American theology. Even sensitive readers, however, will remain troubled by the possibility of interpreting the same experiences with nonreligious categories. That alternative is hardly discussed, the debate with purely secular categories is seldom joined, and the resolution of such an option seems to remain with the basic orientation of the reader, which is what religious faith or affection is all about. Those who have any interest in the possibility of a religious orientation to the powers in the midst of which we move daily should read this book.—H. A. D. (shrink)

This is a new critical latin edition, with facing English translation, of Peter Abelard’s ethical treatise, sometimes entitled "Know Thyself." The book is one in the series of Oxford Medieval Texts. Accompanying the latin text and simple, easy reading translation is a most helpful introduction by Luscombe which points out the historical importance of this little treatise as among the first finely articulated attempts at bringing the classical concerns with human virtues and character together with the theological concerns of a (...) believing Christian. Ethics deals with the problem of how we may properly speak of the moral formation of a person. Abelard’s treatment is more weighted toward the attitudes of man than the nature of his deeds. What is worked out, with the help of many suggestive examples and frequent reference to the religious practices of the twelfth-century church, is a crucial theory of intention and a definition of sin. He holds that our intention, measured to the standards of divine law, determines the morality of our actions : "We consider morals to be the vices or virtues of the mind which make us prone to good or bad works." Good and bad emerge from the struggle where there is consent to an act virtuously or viciously motivated. Morality does not come from the inclination since the constitution of man includes both his virtues and his vices; nor does it come from his acts since all acts are indifferent, before God, to good or bad. It is the intent or consent to act that is determinant. Sin, the other major theme, complementary to intention, is defined as contempt for God, i.e., "to do by no means on his account what we believe we ought to do for him." He founds his notions of morality on God as that good, the source and whole, such that "although... there is a number of good things so that goodness exists in plurality, it does not follow therefore that goodness is greater." By working out these notions, Abelard delivers an innovative morality of conduct for a man beset with a character marked with both virtues and vices, emphasizing man’s faculty of choice and underscoring his ability to know and be responsible to the divine law. Besides the introduction and text, Luscombe has included a description of the manuscripts used in preparing the text and indices of quotations, allusions, and manuscripts.—W. A. F. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 25.2 (2001) 353-356 [Access article in PDF] Book Review The Metaphysical Club The Metaphysical Club, by Louis Menand; xii & 546 pp. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001, $27.00. "They didn't just want to keep the conversation going; they wanted to get to a better place" (p. 440). So much for the most prominent contemporary pragmatist, Richard Rorty, who remains unmentioned except in the acknowledgments. (...) That better place is participatory democracy (a phrase that does not appear in the book), which "means that everyone is equally in the game, but it also means that no one can opt out" (p. 441). The true name of the game is skeptical tolerance. There are no unquestionable duties or inalienable rights, no immutable natural laws, no absolute moral rules, no highest principles, no inherent virtues, no absolute standards, no stasis, no absolutely certain truth. There are no individual destinies, because the social comes before the individual, and the individual is embedded within and cannot exist without society. Scientific knowledge is always probabilistic, not necessarily because nature is indeterministic, but because we can never know enough to calculate its regularities if they exist. To wit, there are no Platonic Ideas or unchanging universals. All is change, nothing that happens is ever repeated, our general ideas and laws of nature are merely tools for getting along in the world. Above all, ideas do not refer to things, only to other ideas. What expedites our thinking is true. What expedites our acting is right. Whenever we act according to principle, rule, or law, we are making a bet that events will turn out the way [End Page 353] we think they will. If we keep this always in mind, we will never succumb to violence or war in the name of belief or principle. Whatever we believe, it could be otherwise. Such is a general summary of pragmatism as it has filtered down to the textbooks. It is (again befittingly) more or less accurate. The can-do American seeks out cash value in practical life.Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., William James, Charles Saunders Pierce, and John Dewey crafted the only indigenous philosophy that has so far been produced in America. Its roots are in Laplacean probability theory, Darwinian evolutionism, and Chauncey Wright's indeterminism. While James hoped to save a place for religion (if it works, go with it) and Pierce a place for God (he thought there had to be a designing intelligence to account for order), the pragmatic result is profoundly skeptical and secular. Neither Holmes nor Dewey thought that individuals imbedded in societies had any need of absolutes. Holmes said that people first decide on the basis of experience, then they deduce. Dewey said that people first behave commonsensically, then they rationalize.There is nothing as condensed as the above in Louis Menand's beautiful book on the ideas, personalities, and influence of Holmes, James, Pierce, and Dewey. I know of no clearer exposition of their ideas, and few biographers have made them come so alive. In particular, Menand's coverage of peripheral (but by no means insignificant) figures is very rich. He describes the development of graduate universities in America in detail from their autocratic beginnings to the institution of academic freedom as we know it today. University presidents, trustees, and administrators are presented luxuriously as the villains, and the professors gloriously as the heroes. Menand remarks with slight amazement that society bought the concept that professors were beholden to the public at large and not to the state or private university owners. He could have commented further on the fact that the concept of academic freedom has become virtually irrelevant in today's corporate research universities."It is a remarkable fact about the United States," Menand begins his book, "that it fought a civil war without undergoing a change in its form of government" (p. ix). This is a breathtaking fact, and I don't suppose Menand had any intent to explain it. "The Civil War swept away the slave civilization of the South, but it swept away almost the whole intellectual... (shrink)

In the past three decades there has been a rapid development of the formal machinery for modal logic. Quantified modal logic has developed along with a semantics and model theory that is appropriate to it. With this technical development there has been relatively little discussion of what modality is all about. There are two fundamental questions that have gone unanswered. First, to what does necessity amount? Is this a new logical notion, or is it something that can be (...) further analyzed in terms of other notions that we already have at our disposal? The second question is what makes truths involving necessity true? What is their ontological grounding in the world? This essay is directed at the first of these questions. ;There are three possible reductions of metaphysical modality. First, there is the reduction suggested by the semantics for modal logic: a reduction in terms of possible worlds. Second, there is the reduction in terms of cognition. What is possible is what is conceivable. Third, there is the reduction in terms of language. Necessities arise from the structures of language and/or language use. ;I argue that none of these is successful. All of them suffer either from presupposing some form of metaphysical necessity in the reductive base, rendering them circular and not truly reductive, or they do not do justice to the modality being reduced. ;Since necessity is not reducible to any non-modal features of the world, we need to determine whether we ought to reject it as unacceptable on this basis, or whether we ought to retain it, but treat is as a new primitive that is introduced into a philosophical or logical theory. I urge the latter course is the one that we ought to take because without it too many things will likewise be deemed unacceptable. Causal necessity and explanation, normally accepted theories or knowledge and perception, logic and logical validity, and one common manner of distinguishing sets from properties will be deemed unacceptable if de re necessity is unacceptable. All of these presuppose de re metaphysical necessity in some way. I conclude that de re metaphysical necessity ought to be retained in our theory as primitive, unanalyzable notion. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Without Buddha I Could not Be a ChristianPeter A. HuffWithout Buddha I Could not Be a Christian. By Paul F. Knitter. Oxford: Oneworld, 2009. xvii + 240 pp.Paul Knitter’s contributions to interfaith dialogue and Christian theologies of religions are well known and widely appreciated. Even critics of Christian theories of pluralism, most prominently Pope Benedict XVI, have acknowledged the significance of Knitter’s strategic integration of perspectives from liberation (...) theology into what is sometimes an overly abstract field of inquiry. Colleagues active in Buddhist-Christian studies hold Knitter in especially high esteem as a writer, teacher, translator, [End Page 211] editor, self-described interreligious theologian, and unapologetic person of faith. This book, his first major publication since accepting the Paul Tillich chair at Union Theological Seminary, offers a uniquely first-person reflection on the spiritual fruits of a career profoundly and provocatively shaped by two religious traditions.Written for a popular audience, the book, the author says, has been in the works “for the past forty years” (p. xv). The reader gains valuable insight into the professional and private life of a remarkable “dialogical theologian” (p. xv), whose experience includes a rather conventional upbringing in working-class Midwestern Catholicism, some twenty years of service as a seminarian and missionary priest with the Society of the Divine Word, graduate education in Europe with the likes of Bernard Lonergan (1904–1984) and Karl Rahner (1904–1984) during the revolutionary years of the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), and nearly four decades of pioneering work as a productive scholar-activist in mainstream academic theology. At times Knitter even quotes from his unpublished journals in an effort to document fully his unscripted intellectual and spiritual development.Though highly personal, the book is not primarily an autobiography or conversion narrative. Instead, it is an introspective analysis of the internal dialogue that virtually all participants in interreligious affairs recognize as the heart of the global ecumenical encounter. Knitter’s book serves as something of an apologia for what is known today as dual religious belonging or hyphenated religious identity. The author concludes his text with this intriguing but not surprising spiritual self-portrait: both lifelong baptized Christian and “card-carrying Buddhist” (p. 216). The challenge of accounting for this “both /and” orientation grants the book its distinctive character and its reason for being.Knitter borrows his method from the twentieth-century minor classic The Way of All the Earth: Experiments in Truth and Religion (1978). In that work, Notre Dame theology professor and Holy Cross priest James Dunne suggested that the path to holiness in the contemporary West leads inevitably through intimate engagement with the ancient wisdom traditions of the East. Even a casual review of the spiritual history of the last century or so will confirm how earnest seekers in modernity’s secular city have renewed, rediscovered, or critically redefined their native faith commitment through life-changing contact with the ideas and values of Asian religious traditions. It is a story familiar to anyone acquainted with the extraordinary religious pilgrimages of interfaith saints such as Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929–1968), Thomas Merton (1915–1968), and Bede Griffiths (1906–1993).Dunne dubbed this experience the “spiritual adventure of our time” (p. 2); Knitter passionately agrees. He applies Dunne’s dialectical method and his special terminology to his own spiritual odyssey, “passing over” from Christian questions and problems to possible answers and solutions in the Buddhist tradition and then “passing back” to Christian belief and practice with enhanced purpose and a fresh sense of integrity.The starting point for Knitter’s project is cognitive, moral, even emotional dissatisfaction with some of the fundamental structures of the historic Christian worldview: God as transcendent creator and lord of history, Jesus Christ as incarnate Logos and [End Page 212] universal savior, and salvation as the survival of human personality after death and the eschatological redemption of all finite reality. In essence, Knitter claims, traditional theism and the core myth of Christianity as expressed in scripture, creed, and liturgy appear painfully ineffective and to a large extent incoherent in the context of modern life and the international interface of world religions. What especially drives the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Teaching Aesthetics and Aesthetic Teaching:Toward a Deweyan PerspectiveDavid A. Granger (bio)The educational writings of John Dewey continue to be invoked by scholars in education on a regular basis and in relation to a wide variety of issues, from social learning theory and situated cognition to constructivism and whole-language literacy instruction. More recently, this scholarship has begun to expand to include books and essays that look to tie Dewey's aesthetics (...) to his work in education in a substantive way. Notably, this is not something that Dewey attempted himself, since his major work in aesthetics, Art as Experience, was not published until he was seventy-five, and he seemingly had neither the time nor means at that point in his life to develop this link to his satisfaction. In addition, many educators are only familiar with Dewey's more explicitly educational writings, most of which came earlier in his career and tend to speak more of the merits of science than of art. As a result, scholars in education have only recently begun to examine the possible significance of Dewey's aesthetics for the practices of teaching and learning.1It is still the case, however, that writers on Dewey have traditionally focused their critical energies on his expansive claims for "the method of science" as a vehicle for solving numerous educational and social problems, and as the only authentic means of learning about our everyday world. Such critical attention is not, I believe, without warrant; though Dewey's use of "science" was a very loose and liberal one, he was a staunch critic of the positivistic model of science often presumed by these writers. Nonetheless, this critical focus has unfortunately led many writers to dismiss or marginalize the Dewey who, for instance, proclaims in "Art in Education—and Education in Art" that theModern preoccupation with science and with industry based on science has been disastrous; our education has followed the model that [End Page 45] they have set. It has been concerned with intellectual analysis and formularized information.... It is disastrous because it has fixed attention upon competition for control and possession of a fixed environment rather than upon what art can do to create an environment.... It is disastrous because civilization built upon these principles cannot supply the demand of the soul for joy, or freshness of experience; only attention through art to the vivid but transient values of things can effect such refreshment.2As Dewey sees it, science and other forms of knowledge are properly "handmaidens" to art, intellectual tools for enhancing the overall quality and value of human life and activity.3 This means that they are largely subordinate to the direct qualitative meaning of experience. They are, Dewey says, transformed in aesthetic experience in that they are "merged with non-intellectual elements to form an experience worth while as an experience."4 Art objects may well be the most potent and ready source of such enhanced, aesthetic experience, being intentionally created to refine and intensify in certain ways the experience of the perceiver. But they are not, to Dewey's way of thinking, the sole or even principal medium of the aesthetic. Art, he tells us, is best seen more liberally as "a quality that permeates an experience," whereby, in any number of life contexts, the meanings of objects and events become "the matter of a clarified, coherent, and intensified or 'impassioned' experience" (AE, 329, 295). If all of this can be taken to mean that art or the aesthetic, and not science, is paradigmatic of optimal human experience, then current efforts to integrate Dewey's aesthetics with his thinking about education are an important endeavor and one that should bear considerable fruit. Then, too, much of the popular literature in art and aesthetic education, which situates art and the aesthetic squarely within the cognitive domain of experience, is significantly at odds with Dewey's radically holistic and vigorously anti-elitist aesthetics.5Accordingly, this article will explore the idea of aesthetic education—conceived in its broadest sense—using a mainly Deweyan lens. Moreover, it will do so by examining everyday classroom practices as they are informed by the general... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Ibsen's Drama of Self-Sacrifice William A. Johnsen Michigan State University Henrik Ibsen, like Flaubert, is a fundamental precursor of all subsequent modern literature. His development, which takes place over a lifetime of playwriting, is nevertheless only obscurely recognized in theories ofthe modern. Critics quarrel about his antecedents: Scribe, Feydeau, as well as Norwegian and Scandinavian dramatists and poets. Yet nothing in any of his predecessors could prepare one for (...) the great prose plays of the last twenty-five years of his career. How did he modernize himself? Ibsen said ofhis transition to prose, that he could no longer allow his characters to speak in verse, the language of the gods.1 It is tempting to begin reading Girard in here, because Ibsen offers us a fascinating variation on the historical moment ofcrisis represented by Flaubert, the moment of modernization itself, where the disintegration ofan accepted political and cultural aristocracy forced everyone to compete for prestige and for unique being in a common marketplace. In the case ofNorway during Ibsen's time, it is the crisis caused by the delegitimation ofDano-Norwegian as the uncontested literary language, in favor of competing versions of an emerging national language for a 1 Ibsen's famous comment is in a letter to Edmund Gosse, 15 January, 1874: "Speaking generally, the dialogue must conform to the degree of idealization which pervades the work as a whole. My new drama is no tragedy in the ancient sense. What I sought to depict were human beings, and therefore I would not let them talk the 'language of the Gods'" (Sprinchorn 145). 142William A. Johnsen uniquely national literature that provokes a rivalry for atavistic or nativist preeminence: Who is the most Norwegian ofall? Ibsen and Henry James (as well as Borges) do not choose chauvinist atavism, yet they also avoid becoming mere disciples of the dominant philosophical traditions which have marginalized them. They are more outspoken discussants of the significant historical and cultural developments analyzed in Girard's Deceit, Desire, and the Novel because they are from "new" countries, outsiders to European culture. It is here we must avoid the occupational hazard ofcritical theory: we must not permit a resemblance between a literary and a theoretical text to degenerate into a transcoding of the former into the latter, without ever considering that their resemblance means that each proposes some contribution to a converging theory ofhuman behavior. Critics who merely convert literature into the theories they already know contribute little to literary knowledge, and nothing to theory. Girard has insisted on the quasitheoretical potential of literary texts from the beginning. Only by staying as close to Ibsen as possible, can we ever hope to add to the considerable work that Girard's hypothesis has already achieved. If there is a general principal at stake in not prematurely transcoding the language of Ibsen's plays into theoretical language (not being prematurely theoretical for the sake of a more inclusive theory), there is also the specific risk of burying the peculiar diversity of his dramatic accomplishment. Ibsen is above all the playwright of complex characterization —no one before him was as subtle in motivating the ordinary characters ofeveryday life. Yet during his time, his plays were awaited for the intense discussions of ideas that they were certain to provoke. How is it that Ibsen is not considered the most theoretical and didactic of writers? Partly, the sheer number of controversial ideas and positions dramatized in play after play kept him from being seen (for very long) as the propagator ofany one ofthem. Michael Meyer reproduces in his biography ofIbsen a contemporary Norwegian political cartoon, which depicts Ibsen flailing first right, then left, then all (Meyer 447). More importantly, Ibsen, beginning with Samfundets Stotter (1877) [Pillars ofSociety], created a drama of ensemble theorizing conducted by characters themselves. Ibsen's work, beyond the creation ofcharacter, was to imagine the conditions and events that might make it possible for ordinary individuals to contribute discoveries about human behavior which, collectively, allow amplification and consolidation as a hypothesis. Ibsen 's Drama ofSelf-Sacrifice143 The mimetic hypothesis first found itself explaining the spectacular results of negative reciprocity in modern resentment, the unperceived commonality ofan isolation... (shrink)

It is trivially true that comedians make jokes and thus are not serious; they are “just playing.” But watching Louis CK, especially his performances in Chewed Up, Shameless, and Hilarious, it is evident that he has more in mind than simply getting his audience to frivolously guffaw. I will make the case that this is so given the content of some of his humor which centers on areas of socio-political-ethical tensions that can be uncomfortable when addressed in a direct, “bona-fide” (...) communicative mode. I will concentrate upon his playful, yet serious, account of issues surrounding race and privilege which, though not obvious center-pieces, can be found in almost all of his performances. These are complex areas that are not obvious fodder for humor, and it is clear that his comedic repertoire is broad enough that he is not including these issues for lack of funnier bits. I will argue that through his humor, he at once brings to consciousness hidden biases, challenges them in a subversive manner on behalf of those harmed by cultural stereotypes, e.g., and opens up an otherwise adversarial audience to the possibility that they harbor such unwanted stereotypes—a necessary element in consciousness-raising. My account will require a brief distinction between seriousness and playfulness, a defense of the claim that we are drawn to humor even when it is used to question our cherished presuppositions, and an interpretation of thought experiments that parallels Louis CK’s comedic mechanisms in his stand-up performances and episodes from Louie. In some cases he is explicit that he is just “making shit up” (Oh My God), or, as he cautions in the setup to a story in Shameless, “it doesn’t matter cus’ I’m gonna lie to you.” But that does not take away from my point that he is serious with his humor about social reality in the same way that philosophers have traditionally “made shit up” with thought experiments for serious purposes. Louis CK employs a similar device with his humor, and in many ways is more effective than philosophers in making the implicit explicit for his (much larger) audiences who then spread his word. (shrink)

Hoping to overcome the deficiencies of Bailey and Dewitt, and taking into account the insights of Diano, Kleve, and Merlan, Rist presents this book as an accurate and complete doxology of Epicurus’ philosophy. The book is written in a condensed style where doctrines treated early in the book are not fully explained until the completion of later parts. In trying to pin down Epicurus, distinct from the Epicureans, he depends heavily upon Lucretius and the few extant writings of Epicurus himself, (...) but he does range over the works of all the later students and commentators. Even so, much is left either vaguely outlined or problematic, and what is accepted from the more distant or biased sources is judiciously measured against the more accepted teachings. There are seven major chapters dealing with the canonic, physics, man and the cosmos, soul and mind and body, pleasure, friendship, and gods and religion. Certain of the teachings presented have a bearing, one upon the other, throughout the book and do much toward showing some consistency and richness to Epicurus’ philosophy: In the canonic, three types of criteria for judging as to the existence of a thing or the truth of a proposition are explained, viz., sensation, general concepts, and feeling. In the physics, a crucial topic is the role of the swerve with its logical priority. In the cosmos, there is the developmental, evolutionary character of the universe. In the soul and body of man, the animus/anima distinction is worked out. The interrelation of all these is brought to bear on the central theme of pleasure and the gods. Pleasure, as the stable condition of the flesh and confident expectation of the future on this score, with complete absence of pain and anxiety, involves the physics, friendship, the soul of man, and the canonic. Also important to his teaching on pleasure is the interplay of those pleasures based upon want and that pleasure which is a state of untroubledness. Rist makes good use of the teachings of the canonic to establish the existence of the gods. In describing their structure, he shows how the gods, as detached exemplars, fit in with the physics and canonic, and with the teaching on pleasure and friendship. He assiduously refrains from interpreting the role of the gods in Epicurus’ philosophy, but with their existence so presented future interpretations should be much enriched. This book is a superb piece of scholarship and an invaluable aid to the study of Greek philosophy.—W. A. F. (shrink)