The ontological and epistemological priority of the infinite has been extensively dealt with in Spinoza scholarship. However, Spinoza’s widely debated understanding of the infinite has not figured to the same extent in accounts of his therapy of the passions, the topic which this essay sets out to explore. My reasoning consists of six steps. First, I introduce Spinoza’s cognitive therapy, which claims that we can be healed from our passions by acquiring adequate ideas of them; (...) second, I show that Spinoza’s cognitive therapy is subject to the Affective Force Condition, i.e., the claim that only a stronger affect can defeat another affect ; third, I suggest that the one way an affect can be reliably weakened or strengthened is by us considering its intentional object as necessary or free, respectively; fourth, I argue that we can only adequately ascribe freedom to things if we regard them as absolutely infinite, and necessity to finite things if we can have an adequate idea of them as inscribed in an infinite causal nexus. This presupposes having an adequate idea of the infinite, and so fifth, I ask by which capacity, or from which perspective, we can acquire such an idea, on Spinoza’s view. Sixth, I finally ask whether the infinity of the causal history of a finite thing qualifies as the kind of infinity which we can adequately conceive, and give a tentative answer to this question by situating this infinity in Spinoza’s taxonomy of infinities. (shrink)

Spinoza shared with his contemporaries the conviction that the passions are, on the whole, unruly and destructive. A life of virtue requires that the passions be controlled, if not entirely vanquished, and the preferred means of imposing this control over the passions is via the power of reason. But there was little agreement in the seventeenth century about just what gives reason its strength and how its power can be brought to bear upon the wayward passions.

Spinoza insists in the Theological Political Treatise that philosophy and theology are two separate kingdoms. I argue here that there is a basis in the psychology of the Ethics for one of the major components of the doctrine of the two kingdoms. Under the kingdom of theology, religion's principal function is to overcome the influence of harmful passion that prevents people from living life according to a fixed plan: people can live according to a fixed plan because they can (...) obey. Through a series of arguments I show that Spinoza takes obedience to arise through devotion; devotion to associate with ideas of miracles and imaginative monotheism; and these ideas to be imaginative ideas of singular objects. On the psychology of the Ethics, ideas of this sort, although highly irrational, nevertheless give minds a power to resist harmful passion similar to that of ideas of reason. Although problems remain for the interpretation of the doctrine of the two kingdoms, this argument shows that Spinoza's psychology gr.. (shrink)

In the first half of Part 5 of the Ethics, Spinoza presents his directions for mitigating the passions through reason. He touts his account of the power of reason over the passions as ground-breaking and unique, while positioning himself squarely within the traditional debate of akrasia, or weakness of will. Spinoza claims he is the first to identify the affects through their characteristic effects, and demonstrate the way these effects can be countered by the mind’s activity. It follows (...) that Spinoza’s claim for originality can be explained in (at least) two ways: first, passions themselves have been misunderstood, and second, previous philosophers have misunderstood the relationship between reason and the passions. In the first part of this paper, I place Spinoza’s discussion of the passions and reason’s power over them in a historical context. Next, I present Spinoza’s definition of the affects, and his directions for ‘destroying’ the passions. In the third section I point to the differences between my interpretation and that of recent commentators. Finally, I discuss the way in which Spinoza’s directions for mitigating the passions serve as the psychological basis for his moral theory. (shrink)

For Spinoza’s epistemology, an image is an idea that represents an external body as actually existent. This kind of knowledge is the only source of inadequate knowledge, falsity, and error. On the contrary, reason is adequate knowledge because it comprehends common notions, i.e, properties of different things. Intuition is also adequate knowledge because it conceives formal essences of singular things. The main example is the genetic definition of a sphere, an adequate knowledge form by the power of thinking of (...) the mind, without regard to existing extramental spheres. From these differences, some scholars conclude that imagination is always negative and should not deal with reason and intuition. But this conclusion will ban Spinoza’s epistemology from having adequate knowledge of existing individuals, such as Moses and the Hebrew State. In front of this view, this paper defends three theses: firstly, that the difference between the three kinds of knowledge is of genus, not of degree. Secondly, that adequate knowledge for Spinoza is a generic knowledge, i.e., insofar as S knows P insofar S deduces the effects, consequences, or properties of P. Thirdly, that adequate knowledge can include imagination through the proper use of the geometric method. In this case, imagination offers data to reason and intuition for having adequate knowledge of singular things that actually existed. (shrink)

This paper explores Spinoza’s therapy of passions and method of salvation through knowledge and love of God. His optimism about this method is perplexing: it is not even clear how his God, who is unlike any traditional notion of divinity, can be loved. Sorting out Spinoza’s view involves distinguishing an ethics of bondage from another of freedom, and two corresponding notions of love of God. The paper argues that the highest kind of love—‘pure intellectual love of God’—should (...) not be understood as an affect at all, but instead as unimpeded intellectual activity. This suggestion requires reconsidering Spinoza’s account of cognition, particularly his use of the Cartesian notions of objective and formal reality which are not only central to his theory of ideas but constitute the foundations of his salvation project. (shrink)

Proposal Information: In this paper it is argued that although Spinoza, unlike other great philosophers of the Enlightenment era, never actually wrote a philosophy of education as such, he did – in his Ethics – write a philosophy of self-improvement that is deeply educational at heart. When looked at against the background of his overall metaphysical system, the educational account that emerges is one that is highly curious and may even, to some extent at least, come across as counter-intuitive (...) in a contemporary setting. This is so because it grounds the greater social and political endeavors of humanity in the individual’s striving for an ever-increasing power of acting. Hence, education, for Spinoza, is a decidedly individualistic affair, but then again, so is the making of society. Since, for Spinoza, every instance of knowledge bears the unique mark of the individual body that expresses it, one might conclude that at the foundation of every social structure is an encounter between concrete bodies; each expressing a particular perspective from where to grasp the world. I would argue, based on this, that one of Spinoza’s main contributions to educational theory is his grounding of larger social endeavors in the striving of the individual. Hinged on the striving to be more rational, as dictated by the doctrine of the conatus, education appears to offer a way of grounding the structure of the human social world in the same principles as those guiding the individual. Spinoza’s doctrine of the imitation of affects thereby offers a way of linking the egoistic striving for power on behalf of the individual with the educational goal of building a sustainable society. It does so as it conditions self-improvement by the human characteristic to imitate what others desire. By being surrounded with people who desire to be more rational, one can utilize this desire for the good and become strengthened in one’s own striving for increasing one’s degree of existence. Consequently, the teaching situation is geared for guiding students towards a more rational life, at the same time as it is geared for the self-improvement of the teacher. This aspect of self-improvement is, ultimately, what will motivate the teacher in striving to enhance the lives of his or her students in the first place. Being unable to self-improve in isolation, the doctrine of the imitation of affects dictates that the rational person will be moved toward a life of generosity, not primarily for altruistic reasons, but out of a desire to become more rational and thus to gain in his or her own power of acting. The question that follows from this, of course, is how does one go about when inculcating a desire to be more rational in one’s students?Education, from a Spinozistic point of view, is ultimately about the cultivation of the potential that lies dormant in each individual, so that a person may live a happier life as a result of understanding, more adequately, their place in the natural world. The challenge, then, becomes one of overcoming the many obstacles that prevent a person from developing their potential. Pedagogy, from this point of view, may be understood in terms of the art of offering the right amount of resistance. This notion is based on the assumption that if a student encounters no resistance – or too much resistance – his or her potential remains just that – a potential. In order to develop this potential the student needs to overcome certain barriers. With regards to this, the role of the teacher may be conceived in terms of the one balancing the amount of resistance so that the student is properly challenged but at the same time not overwhelmed. Methodology or Methods/ Research Instruments or Sources Used: The paper makes for an attempt to outline a Spinozistic philosophy of education based on readings of Spinoza’s texts – primarily the Ethics – and some of the relevant secondary literature such as Della Rocca’s influential reading of Spinoza. As such it is a philosophical inquiry seeking to interconnect some key aspects of Spinoza’s philosophy with some of the major issues of education. Methodologically, this paper argues, in line with Melamed, that rather than turning to the history of philosophy in order to identify ‘precursors to [our] own views’, so as to validate what we already believe we know, it is more fruitful to turn to past philosophers in order to ‘challenge our most basic beliefs and intuitions by studying texts that are both well-argued and strongly opposed to our commonsense’. Accordingly, turning to Spinoza marks an attempt to revisit and reconceptualize some key aspects of educational thought. Conclusions, Expected Outcomes or Findings: A conclusion of this paper is that a Spinozistic philosophy of education would need to focus on resolving the tension between Spinoza’s egoism and education as a social project. To this end it identifies Spinoza’s doctrine of the imitation of affects as a possible link between the individual’s striving for power and the collective agenda of improving human well-being at large. It is also suggested that, in aspiring to inculcate a desire to be more rational in his or her students, the challenge for the Spinozistic teacher is to prompt the students to aspire to reach beyond the temporary satisfactions of the passions so as to acquire a more enduring sense of satisfaction and so that their well-being is more fully under their own command rather than under the command of various external influences. This, in turn, is connected with the notion of resistance in the sense that in experiencing the volatility of fortune – and thereby understanding the instability of relying on one’s passions – a person would appear to be more inclined to strive for a more enduring sense of happiness, even if this would mean giving up on some of the temporary pleasures that one has grown accustomed to. The resistance, then, may be conceived in terms of the overcoming of temporary pleasures that stand in the way of the developing of one’s potential. In this scenario the role of the teacher may be understood in terms of someone offering a well-balanced amount of resistance. This means that to accommodate one’s students – in the sense that one approaches them in terms of prospective customers, aspiring to satisfy their demands – is inimical to education insofar as the wants and desires of students are, generally speaking, caused by passive affects rather than their rational wills. References: Aloni, N.. Spinoza as Educator: From Eudaimonistic Ethics to an Empowering and Liberating Pedagogy. Educational Philosophy and Theory 40, pp. 531–544.Della Rocca, M.. Spinoza. New York: Routledge.Della Rocca, M.. Rationalism, Idealism, Monism, and Beyond. In: E. Förster & Y. Y. Melamed Spinoza and German Idealism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 7–26.Derry, J.. The Unity of Intellect and Will: Vygotsky and Spinoza. Educational Review, 56, pp. 113–120.Lloyd, G.. Spinoza and Educating the Imagination. In: A. O. Rorty Philosophers on Education: Historical Perspectives. London: Routledge, pp. 157–172.Melamed, Y. Y.. Spinoza’s Metaphysics: Substance and Thought. Oxford: Oxford University Press.Nadler, S.. Eternity and Immortality in Spinoza’s Ethics. Midwest Studies in Philosophy 26, pp. 224–244.Poulimatka, T.. Spinoza’s Theory of Teaching and Indoctrination. Educational Philosophy and Theory 33, pp. 397–410.Spinoza, B.. The Ethics. In: E. Curley A Spinoza Reader: The Ethics and Other Works. Princeton: Princeton Unive. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Think Least of Death: Spinoza on How to Live and How to Die by Steven NadlerJohn GreySteven Nadler. Think Least of Death: Spinoza on How to Live and How to Die. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2020. Pp. x + 234. Hardback, $39.95.Think Least of Death is not just an interpretation of Spinoza, but a defense of his philosophy. Nadler develops Spinoza's arguments in (...) ways that are intended both to reflect Spinoza's views and to persuade us that the views in question are true. He uses success language throughout to describe Spinoza's ideas ("What Spinoza discovered, and what he wants us to know, is that..." [11]) and arguments ("Spinoza... has demonstrated, rigorously and a priori, that..." [188]). Nadler is not just a Spinoza scholar here; he also thinks that Spinoza basically got it right. It would be a mistake, then, to evaluate Think Least of Death solely on its interpretive merits as a reading of Spinoza's Ethics. It is more fruitful to look at the places where Nadler not only describes, but apparently endorses, Spinoza's views.Following Nadler, I will focus here on the practical philosophy. Briefly put, Spinoza takes the right way of living to consist in adherence to the dictates of reason, which prescribe "that everyone love himself, seek his own advantage... and 'absolutely, that everyone should strive to preserve his own being as far as he can'" (191). These general principles issue in more specific directives based on facts about human nature. For instance, since the nature of the human mind is such that it always benefits from further understanding, reason directs us to strive for further understanding. To the extent that a human being lives in accordance with such dictates of reason, they will feel joyful, be free, and act virtuously. Conversely, when they are driven by their passions rather than reason, they will often feel sorrow, lack autonomy, and do things that are harmful to themselves and others. This is the source of whatever motivating power these directives have: necessarily, following them conduces to our self-interest.A crucial point for Nadler is that these facts about human nature are the same for each human being. This implies that "there is in fact an objective, non-arbitrary determination of what constitutes a more perfect or ideal human being" (28), the ideal that Spinoza variously refers to as the model of human nature or the free man. On Nadler's reading, Spinoza's notion of the free man (which he treats as equivalent to the model of human nature) is not "some creature of the imagination or reflection of personal taste" (29), but a representation of "the ideal state toward which every individual [human] naturally and necessarily... strives" (29). [End Page 708]A signal contribution of the book is to show that the free person's life is a realizable goal rather than an unattainable ideal. The free person is determined to act by reason alone, yes—but this is compatible with him or her also having passions, so long as those passions do not determine his or her behavior. A free person might feel fear at the prospect of death or suffering, but that fear will not determine what he or she does. Instead, the free person's actions will be determined by the guidance of reason and the positive affects (joy, love, self-esteem, and the like).Since the life of the free person is in principle attainable, Nadler proposes that we take the free person's life as a model for how we ourselves should live. For instance, when Spinoza writes that "a free man always acts honestly" (E 4P72), the implication is that we ourselves should always act honestly. Now, there is an apparent inconsistency in this position, nicely articulated by Don Garrett ("'A Free Man Always Acts Honestly, Not Deceptively': Freedom and the Good in Spinoza's Ethics," in Nature and Necessity in Spinoza's Philosophy [New York: Oxford University Press, 2018], 441–61). The free man—living entirely according to the guidance of reason—always acts honestly. Yet reason also guides us to seek our own advantage, and sometimes the... (shrink)

In recent years the humanities, social sciences and neuroscience have witnessed an 'affective turn, ' especially in discourses around post-Fordist labor, economic and ecological crises, populism and identity politics, mental health, and political struggle. This new awareness would be unthinkable without the pioneering work of Gilles Deleuze, who replaced judgment with affect as the very material movement of thought: every concept is an affective experience, a becoming. Besides entirely active affects, the highest practice of thought, there is no thought without (...) passive affects or passions. Instead of a calm and rational philosophy of passions, Deleuzian thought is therefore inseparable from "isolated and passionate cries" that deny what everybody knows and what nobody can deny: "every true thought is an aggression." This inseparability of reason and passion is by no means an anti-intellectualist or irrationalist stance. Rather, it is critical, since it protects reason from its self-imposed stupidity (betise) by relating it to the unthought forces that condition it. And it is clinical, because thought becomes possessed by a power of selection. The purely active, i.e. free-floating, unrecorded desire, is never enough to produce a consistent relation to the future, which is why we need the passions to give us an initial orientation, to force and enable us to think. Passions are the beliefs, perceptions, representations, and opinions that attach us to the world; they make up the very material of which our lives and thoughts are composed. Instead of truth as the ultimate criterion of judgment, the only principle according to which affective becomings can be selected and evaluated is the extent to which they proliferate joy. Spinoza and Marx show how the recruitment of desire traditionally takes place through the tyrants and priests who inspire sad passions in us. Similarly, the work of Deleuze and Guattari on capitalism and schizophrenia can be read as an encyclopedia of the passions that constitute the affective infrastructure of the socius of contemporary capitalism. If it takes a lot of inventiveness or imagination to be able to diagnose our present becomings, this is because becomings are always composites of joyful and sad passions. Capitalism could not exist if it did not also inspire happiness, love, courage, and perhaps even beatitude. That is why, today, we witness "the spectacle of the happily dominated" (Frederic Lordon) of the self-entrepreneur, the managerial class, the flex worker, the citizen-consumer, the bean-roasting hipster, and the self-managed team. It is within this field of contradictory and heterogeneous passions that the authors of this volume pursue the diagnosis of our past and present becomings. Their contributions add up to a systematic taxonomy of the passions and indicate their importance for a thinking that reaches beyond itself. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Bernard Mandeville and the Therapy of “The Clever Politician”Harold J. CookAs the institutional authority of the learned physicians of Augustan London waned, new threats to the classical foundations of medical practice appeared. 1 Patients had more freedom to chose from a variety of practitioners and practices, giving both consumer demand and the advertising skills of suppliers an even more powerful hand in medical affairs. While the burgeoning medical (...) marketplace developed mostly because of the profound socio-economic and political changes of the late Stuart period, intellectual transformations were at play, too. The new science appeared to encourage empiricism and the development of new remedies based on experimentation, devaluing university education in medical classics, but conversely the new science could strengthen physicians’ claims to superiority over mere patients and practitioners. Medical materialists, for instance, could turn the classical advisor/client relationship into that of an expert contolling a passive recipient (patient) for his or her own good.One contemporary debate that shows the implications of materialism for medical relationships is the theory of the passions. The passions linked mind and body. According to most classical accounts, one could (or should) control the passions by applying reason, resulting in both a virtuous and a healthy life. But according to a strong version of materialism, the mind could not hope to control the passions. A doctor therefore could no longer appeal to patients’ reason; rather, he had to manipulate the patient’s passions for his or her own good. Hence for a materialist, the doctor was not an adviser to the patient but an expert therapist, not a teacher of health and virtue but a “clever politician” who ordered bodily passions. Some versions of the new science, then, favored [End Page 101] the expertise of physicians while undermining older views about learned authority. Such an outlook is clear in the work of Dr. Bernard Mandeville, whose famous Fable of the Bees shows how the “clever politician” played on passions to make the body politic run smoothly. Mandeville held coherent views on politics, economics, moral philosophy, and medicine. Like many doctors of his time, he fought to establish his expertise in the new science. His views are expressed most clearly in the theory of the passions. By examining his discussion of the passions in both his social commentary and his medical dialogues, we can note similarities among his various writings and glimpse one of his fundamental positions on medicine and humanity.The Fable and its CriticsTo many English minds of the early eighteenth century, no one exemplified materialism’s threat better than Dr. Bernard Mandeville. Mandeville’s famous slogan, the subtitle of his Fable of the Bees—“private vices, public benefits”—seemed to epitomize materialism’s inherent immorality. The book seemed to argue that what most people recognized as human vices were the main engines of the collective good. Mandeville’s famous book pictured human nature as animalistic, in which the passions held sway over reason. In Mandeville’s world, it appeared, reason became little more than the ability to rationalize, the instrument of hypocrisy, merely letting people cover their true motives (grounded as they were in the passions) with empty words pretending to more exalted ends.His Fable had begun as a little, anonymous, satirical poem in 1705, titled “The Grumbling Hive: or, Knaves Turn’d Honest.” It began by speaking of “A Spacious Hive well stockt with Bees, / That liv’d in Luxury and Ease.” Many of the bees were knaves, with no calling free of deceit, but while “every Part was full of Vice, / Yet [was] the whole Mass a Paradise; /... Such were the Blessings of that State; / Their Crimes conspir’d to make them Great.” Avarice, prodigality, luxury, pride, envy, vanity, folly, fickleness, and inconstancy employed millions, encouraging ingenuity and industry and creating pleasures and comforts “To such a Height, the very Poor / Liv’d better than the Rich before.” But many of the thriving bees complained, shouting for honesty and virtue. When Jove “rid / The bawling Hive of Fraud,” economic collapse followed, with the consequent end of arts and sciences as well; population declined; the hive’s territory decreased; and the remaining bees toiled long and... (shrink)

Spinoza’s Ethics makes reference to three kinds of knowledge that humans are capable of winning: imagination, reason and intuitive knowledge of God. Of these, imagination is necessarily inadequate while the latter two are necessarily adequate. In other words, we remain passive in the first type of knowledge, but come into our power of acting in the latter two. The passage from the first to the second and third types of knowledge, however, remains, in Spinoza’s text, rather obscure. This (...) paper seeks to come to terms with how exactly the passage from passion to action is made in the Ethics while locating this particular problematic as a site at which various interpretations of Spinoza diverge with considerable stakes. I thus focus on Gilles Deleuze’s proposed answer to this problem as well as Pierre Macherey’s critique of Deleuze’s reading. I argue that the disagreement between Macherey and Deleuze is not merely interpretive, but rather indicates some of the stakes involved in assessing Spinoza’s theory of the passions and the imagination. An ‘optimistic’ appraisal of these features might lead one to Deleuze’s affirmationist project, while Macherey’s pessimism concerning the two might take a Spinozist politics in quite the opposite direction. I appreciate and assess multiple aspects of Macherey’s critique while nonetheless arguing that they do not prove damning for Deleuze’s affirmationist picture. I conclude with an analysis of vacillation of mind in Deleuze’s Spinoza, and place Deleuze’s thoughts on this note in conversation with his earlier reading of Nietzsche. (shrink)

While it is often supposed that Spinoza understood a life of virtue as one of pure activity, with as few passions as possible, this paper aims to make explicit how the passions for Spinoza contribute positively to our virtue. This requires, first, explaining how a passion can increase our power, given Spinoza’s view on the passions generally, which, in turn, requires coming to terms with the problem of passive pleasure, that is, the problem of explaining how being (...) passive can cause an increase in our power. In brief, this paper will argue that, for Spinoza, even when we are passive, we are somewhat active or, in Spinoza’s language, “adequate” to varying degrees. The passions represent activity because they exercise our understanding by providing us with intelligence about external bodies and our own bodies, in particular, the degree of our bodies’ perfection. It follows that a passion can be sufficiently adequate to bring about an increase in one’s power; in this sense, they can be virtuous. Moreover, this paper will show that the passions can also be virtuous in a moral sense. The view goes roughly as follows: according to Spinoza, the passions serve as a measure of our perfection. Consequently, they play a necessary role in moral reasoning, by indicating which activities increase or hinder our virtue. On this view, a truly virtuous person would require the passions in order to engage consistently in the sorts of activities which increase her power, in particular, following reason. Since this sort of consistency in behavior is necessary for a virtuous character, the passions can be virtuous in the sense that they are necessary aspects of the sort of character which disposes us to act according to reason. (shrink)

Spinoza teaches that the nature of things expresses itself in two ways: in motion and in the world of bodies, on the one hand, and in the intellect with its world of ideas, on the other. Physical bodies are in perpetual motion – arising, changing, disappearing; since the human body also participates in these processes, they are perceived by senses. Spinoza calls the knowledge of sensual properties and duration of the existence of bodies “imagination”. The human mind processes (...) images of bodies with the help of a special kind of abstractions, the “beings of reason”, and then it forms, on the basis of “general concepts”, adequate ideas about the “inner essences” of things, their “order and connec­tion”, i.e. about the causes for the existence of things and their causal relations. Scientific definitions, formulae and models represent these causes and relations in a perfectly pure form – “under a species of eternity”. The article shows how Spinoza delineates the limits of human cognition: they are set by the nature of mind as the idea of the body (man con­sists of two modes of substance – the living body and its idea/mind in the infinite intel­lect). The wider the scope of the body’s activity, the more our mind knows about the world and about itself. The last section of the article describes the relationship of rea­son to virtue, logic to ethics, and characterises the way of life “according to the guidance of reason”. Social life appears to Spinoza as a battle of “passions”, the passive affects of solidarity and enmity. Society cannot live according to the guidance of reason, but our minds can find a form of government that minimises the damage caused by the “blind af­fects” of the rulers and the crowd: Spinoza considered democracy to be the “completely absolute state”. (shrink)

In my dissertation, I derive a set of systematic principles and a conception of the political subject from Spinoza’s metaphysics and political writings and then bring these tools to bear on contemporary questions in democratic theory. I argue that Spinoza’s conception of the political subject answers feminist critiques of the liberal subject, while retaining an understanding of the need for empowered citizens in strong democracies. Spinoza’s normative political theory shows how political communities become stronger through the empowerment (...) and participation of their citizens. I argue that Spinoza’s naturalistic method provides a promising path for both ethics and political theory. In the first chapter of my dissertation, I sketch the history of the development and critiques of the ‘liberal’ conception of human nature. I argue that rather than a substantial conception of human nature, the liberal subject is a skeptical compromise developed for a very specific purpose following the post-Reformation Wars of Religion in Europe in the 16th century. I then take on a variety of critiques of the notion of human nature in general and of the liberal conception of human nature in particular. I argue that political theory requires a positive conception of human beings. Spinoza’s conception of the human individual, created in order to replace what Spinoza thought were problematic aspects of the theories of individuals proposed by Hobbes and Descartes, does not suffer from the problems of the liberal subject and is a good candidate for a positive conception of human nature. In Chapter Two, I set out the main components of Spinoza’s naturalistic conception of the human individual. Spinoza understands human beings as primarily affective, or emotional creatures, whose feelings mediate their conceptions of the world. For Spinoza, each individual can be understood to have an index of power, which can increase or decrease depending on the degree to which individuals understand and are able to control the forces that affect them. In Chapter Three, I show that Spinoza’s theory of the political state is parallel to his theory of the individual. For Spinoza, just as individual humans have an index of power that can increase or decrease depending on how their emotions are organized, so too states have different degrees of power depending on how the emotions and power of the human beings within them are organized. The challenge for a Spinozan state is to understand how to create social and political institutions to organize the emotions of the ‘multitude’ of individuals in the state in the best way to yield the strongest state. For Spinoza, the strongest, or most absolute state, is a democracy, which is also the freest kind of state. I set out Spinoza’s theory of democracy and show how it builds upon his notion of individual and collective power. In Chapter Four, I take up the potential objections of Iris Marion Young to Spinoza’s conception of democratic agreement. I say these objections are ‘potential’ because, although Young critiques Rousseau’s conception of the general will, she does not directly object to Spinoza’s view of ‘agreement’ as a necessary element in democratic deliberation. However, many of Young’s writings touch on this worry, particularly in her critiques of Rousseau, civic republicanism and contemporary deliberative democracy theory. I argue that Spinoza’s notion of agreement employs a different conception of reason than that found in Rousseau, or in the tradition of deliberative democratic theory. Reason, for Spinoza, is a collective achievement rather than a precondition for deliberation. Spinoza argues that agreements reached through large-scale discussion in a democracy are likely to be more ‘reasonable’ than those reached by few or by one. Spinoza and Young share, I argue, a similar conception of the role of affect in deliberation, and both recognize the importance of affects and imagination in social and political life. In Chapter Five, I contrast a Spinozan theory of empowerment to Martha Nussbaum’s capabilities approach. Nussbaum’s approach and that of Spinoza are consonant in many of their major aspects; however, I argue that in practice, Spinoza’s theory is better able to account for the contextual nature of empowerment and of the necessity to reform harmful social, moral and cultural norms through affective mechanisms. In the conclusion, I consider the larger implications for a Spinozan naturalist approach to political philosophy, and for the role that theories of human nature and metaphysics can play in political theory. I argue that by avoiding metaphysics and by avoiding conceptions of human nature, those interested in projects of emancipation can have no criteria for determining whether or not individuals have become emancipated or whether their power has in fact increased. The model I derive from Spinoza’s conception of individual power and his view of the power of political states as a function of the power of the coordination of individuals provides a promising alternative to liberal theories of the subject and to extant feminist theories of the human individual, which ignore the psychological and metaphysical aspects of human individual and collective power. (shrink)

ABSTRACT This commentary defends an interpretation of Spinoza that preserves some key elements of traditional rationalism, in which reason does have an independent path to the truth. While it agrees with Lloyd’s general view, in which reason, imagination, and emotion are more closely tied than the Cartesian scheme, in which reason is distinct from the world of bodies, the paper disagrees with her central claim that reason is constituted by the imagination. It argues that the imagination is effective to (...) the extent that it produces forms of knowledge that are analogous to reason. The paper considers her interpretation of Flaubert and the Biblical prophets and claims that it cannot account for why some forms of the imagination might be mistaken or superior to others. In conclusion, it points out that, while ‘unresolved multiplicity’ might be the predicament of those led by the imagination, Spinoza thinks that reason leads to a common perspective and is a superior guide to life. (shrink)

The recent expansion of the English academies programme has initiated a period of significant change within the state education system. As established administration has been disrupted, new providers from business and philanthropy have entered the sector with a range of approaches to transform schools. This paper examines the development of co-operative schools, which are positioned as an ‘ethical alternative’ within the system and have proved popular with teachers and parents. Using a theory of co-operative power drawn from the philosophy of (...) Spinoza, the author explores how co-operative schools have emerged, with and against the reforming agenda, using narratives of hope and resistance. Spinoza provides theoretical resources to critique this positioning and to project beyond the limiting narratives to an affirmative vision for co-operative schools. (shrink)

: Perhaps the central problem which preoccupies Spinoza as a moral philosopher is the conflict between reason and passion. He belongs to a long tradition that sees the key to happiness and virtue as mastery and control by reason over the passions. This mastery, however, is hard won, as the passions often overwhelm its power and subvert its rule. When reason succumbs to passion, we act against our better judgment. Such action is often termed 'akratic'. Many commentators have complained (...) that the psychological principles that Spinoza appeals to in his account of akrasia are mere ad hoc modifications to his philosophical psychology. I show, on the contrary, that these principles follow from some of the most important and interesting aspects of Spinoza's philosophy of mind. (shrink)

Practices of the self are prominent in Spinoza, both in the Ethics and On the Emendation of the Intellect. The same can be said of Descartes, e.g., his Discourse on the Method. What, if anything, distinguishes their practices of the self? Michel Foucault’s concept of “spirituality” isolates how Spinoza ’s practices are relatively unusual in the early modern era. Spirituality, as defined by Foucault in The Hermeneutics of the Subject, requires changes in the ethical subject before one can (...) begin philosophizing, and claims to result in a complete transfiguration or perfection of the subject. Both these characteristics are present in Spinoza ’s Emendation while both are lacking in Descartes’ Discourse. Turning to the Ethics’ practices of the self, I show how affects can be moderated through other affects, and that this text establishes a thorough training of the self which will strengthen one’s overall power well into the future. My treatment of the Ethics differs in emphasis from many other readings which focus on reason’s power over affects, or on cognitive therapy which moderates individual affects to lessen current sadness. In both works, Spinoza ’s practices of the self promise significant changes to those who undergo them. (shrink)

Hume is famous for the view that "reason is, and ought only to be, the slave of the passions." His claim that "we are no sooner acquainted with the impossibility of satisfying any desire, than the desire itself vanishes" is less well known. Each seems, in opposite ways, shocking to common sense. This paper explores the latter claim, looking for its source in Hume's account of the passions and exploring its compatibility with his associationist psychology. We are led to the (...) conclusion that this view—that desires vanish when fulfilment is deemed impossible—endows reason with a power over the passions that is at odds with its role as slave, and ultimately incompatible with a proper understanding of emotions such as grief. Such emotions involve continuing to want what one believes to be impossible. The human (and Humean) imagination can sustain desires without the belief that fulfilment is possible. (shrink)

Hume is famous for the view that “reason is, and ought only to be, the slave of the passions.” His claim that “we are no sooner acquainted with the impossibility of satisfying any desire, than the desire itself vanishes” is less well known. Each seems, in opposite ways, shocking to common sense. This paper explores the latter claim, looking for its source in Hume’s account of the passions and exploring its compatibility with his associationist psychology. We are led to the (...) conclusion that this view—that desires vanish when fulfilment is deemed impossible—endows reason with a power over the passions that is at odds with its role as slave, and ultimately incompatible with a proper understanding of emotions such as grief. Such emotions involve continuing to want what one believes to be impossible. The human imagination can sustain desires without the belief that fulfilment is possible. (shrink)

Christopher Tilmouth's wide-ranging study of Early Modern ideas of the passions explores a series of philosophical authors in relation to poets and dramatists of the period 1580 to 1680. Aristotle, Aquinas, Augustine, and Hobbes receive detailed treatment here, alongside Spenser's Faerie Queene, Hamlet and Julius Caesar, the lyrics of Herbert and Crashaw, and Milton's Paradise Lost. Central to this innovative exploration of literary-philosophical relations is a comprehensive reappraisal of the works of the Earl of Rochester.

This paper identifies an aesthetics implicit in Spinoza’s philosophy through the concept of a genesis of the aesthetic. A genesis of the aesthetic indicates that a philosophy of art is not yet fully formed in his work, but can emerge as a consequence or effect of his thought. This aesthetic theory would evaluate the work of art primarily in its relationship to truth. Following the architectonics of Spinoza’s own thought, this paper constructs a progression – moving from the (...) imagination, to reason, to intuition – toward a concept of aesthetic practices that aligns itself ever more closely with the freedom, perfection, and affirmation of infinite substance itself. The specific forms of aesthetic reception and production flowing from Spinoza’s ideal of wisdom unite two seemingly disparate paradigms: the aesthetic as essentially affirmative, as a joy in the individual power of every individuated thing, on the one hand; and the cultivation of a critical, ethically informed aesthetics of liberation, one capable of occupying different positions with respect to state or sovereign power, on the other hand. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: Mogens Lærke. Spinoza and the Freedom of Philosophizing. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021. Pp. xviii + 387. Hardback, $115.00. -/- Spinoza's political philosophy, always a subject of attention in Francophone scholarship, has been coming into sharper focus for Anglophone readers in recent years as well. Mogens Lærke—well known for his essays on metaphysics and cognition in Spinoza, for his invaluable book Leibniz lecteur de (...) class='Hi'>Spinoza (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2008), and for bridging French and English scholarly communities—has now written a richly contextual treatment of Spinoza's conception of the freedom of philosophizing (libertas philosophandi). His book presents a thoroughly mid- to late seventeenth-century Dutch Spinoza. The expression libertas philosophandi appears in the full title of Spinoza's Theologico-Political Treatise (1670, hereafter TTP). Lærke argues that libertas philosophandi is the key to understanding "Spinoza's attempt to theorize a new republican public sphere" (5). As defined by Spinoza, "the freedom of philosophizing is not for Spinoza an individual right but a collective natural authority constitutive of a particular kind of public sphere" (5)—namely, one constituted by such recognizably republican notions as equality, integrity, virtue, and honor. It depends on citizens "having taken possession of their own free judgment and on their capability and willingness to engage with each other without prejudice and deceit" (234). Far from being "granted," libertas philosophandi is "achieved through civic education and mutual advising in the public sphere" (235). Rather than a formal permission or abstract right, libertas philosophandi is a socially mediated expression of power (or what the Ethics calls conatus, striving and expression): it emerges and is maintained through cultivation, regulation, and identification, and is communal—that is, political. Put another way, libertas philosophandi is a collective form of freedom enacted as a noncoercive exchange of views among equals who agree to search for truth and pursue well-being together. As distinct from the rational and intellectual freedom examined in the Ethics, libertas philosophandi reflects everyone's natural (and so inevitable) power of self-expression and does not depend on rational attainment. The task of politics is inducing as many people as possible to express themselves constructively. Thus, politics depends on motivating people to act as if they were rational. In practice, this means that citizens must commit themselves to friendly mutual advice and teaching rather than to coercive measures, to deliberative structures rather than to secrecy and partiality, and to acceptance of a unified sovereign, whatever the exact form of the government may be. Following the indications of TTP 5 and TTP 16-17, Lærke shows that this commitment can come about either imaginatively [End Page 523] or rationally. For those who do not or cannot—or cannot consistently—comprehend the usefulness of a well-constructed imperium, imaginative myths, such as the revelation at Mount Sinai or the social contract itself, are required. For those for whom the founding myths and codes, such as the principles of universal religion, prove insufficiently binding, state force intervenes. With characteristic erudition, Lærke situates Spinoza in the political, religious, sociocultural, and economic currents of mid- to late seventeenth-century Amsterdam. This contextualization leads to new ways of understanding Spinoza's place in the history of toleration and democratic thought. Lærke pairs this historical-philosophical sleuthing with close attention to Spinoza's exact language and argumentative structure. Most provocatively, Lærke insists on the fundamental continuity of Spinoza's political philosophy against influential readings that suppose a late-life change of heart. Chapters 2–5 explore the meaning of libertas philosophandi. Chapter 2, "Circles and Spheres of Free Philosophizing," retraces the history of the notion; chapter 3, "Philosophizing," presents philosophizing as a broad argumentative style encompassing reasoning from experience and practical or historical reasoning as well as more technical modes of inference and argument. What Spinoza calls the "natural light" and characterizes as "sound reason" is thus common to all, not restricted to intellectuals. Chapter 4, "The Apostolic Styles," studies Spinoza's analysis of the teaching methods exhibited in the Greek Scriptures. Chapter 5, "Authority," draws this part of the book to a... (shrink)

Book synopsis: The thoroughly contemporary question of the relationship between emotion and reason was debated with such complexity by the philosophers of the 17th century that their concepts remain a source of inspiration for today’s research about the emotionality of the mind. The analyses of the works of Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, and many other thinkers collected in this volume offer new insights into the diversity and significance of philosophical reflections about emotions during the early modern era. A focus is (...) placed on affective components in learning processes and the boundaries between emotions and reason. (shrink)

Even though he generally agrees with Chrysippus on the matter of the ontology of passions, Seneca differentiates mainly in his emphasis that passions are the reason why man leads an inauthentic, unhappy and undignified life. Although Seneca is a very orthodox Stoic, in most of the cases where his stoic credibility is challenged, he resorts to a therapy plan that exceeds the usual stoic strictness on the absoluteness of the status of the sage. In this scheme, the Roman philosopher (...) employs practical techniques that refer to the ordinary man, the man who rationally desires to change his merely-being into well-being. This shift of focus is partially explained through the social orientation of the moral context: man is not alone while achieving his perfection of character; there are others who need to be helped, so that the pursuit of wisdom becomes a pananthropic effort, not an act of alienation. Since moral success is connected with the other person in such a manner, it is not a paradox that it needs to start from within, from the nucleus of personhood. The role of individuality is particularly stressed, especially on the premises that man first ought to make this constant and conscious effort to help himself, to cure his own soul, often with the aid of others who share the same path, before he attempts to be engaged in the therapy of the passions of others. Under this prism, the senecan proposal for the therapy of passions leads to a practical culmination where man is not only bound to achieve his ontological excellence but also to relieve his soul from the traumas of passions and to connect himself with the moral and existential safety that the presence of “recta ratio” guarantees. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Imagination in Hume’s Philosophy: The Canvas of the Mind by Timothy M. CostelloeSaul TraigerTimothy M. Costelloe. The Imagination in Hume’s Philosophy: The Canvas of the Mind. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2018. Pp. xv + 312. Hardback. ISBN: 9781474436397. $107.00.If anything about Hume’s philosophy can be characterized as widely accepted, it is that the imagination is front and center in Hume’s account of the mind. The aim of (...) Timothy Costelloe’s book is to fully develop the observation, that the imagination, as Hume understands it, is “the canvas of the mind.” Costelloe amply demonstrates that the imagination is a broad canvas, ranging from Hume’s epistemology and metaphysics, to his aesthetics, moral and political philosophy, history, philosophy of religion, and his general conception of philosophy itself. Seven substantial chapters cover these areas, and show how Hume takes the imagination to play a pivotal role in each.One of the many strengths of this book is that Costelloe responsibly mines the secondary literature, carefully explaining the interpretations he seconds and those he finds wanting. The attention to the relevant secondary literature is apparent from the start, where Costelloe laments the surprising dearth of book-length treatments of Hume on the imagination, but helpfully highlights both the lesser known Hume-centric monographs on the imagination by Furlong and Wilbanks, as well as more widely read interpretations.The introductory chapter makes important distinctions and introduces some main concepts. Hume differentiates the imagination’s “combinatory power” from its “creative power.” While the uninhibited ability to concatenate ideas might also be seen as a creative act, Costelloe sees the creative power where the imagination [End Page 173] “generates a class of ideas—‘fictions’ of a certain sort—independent of experience and according to its own inner logic” (21). This characterization makes sense when viewing the imagination’s function as directed towards a goal, such as achieving coherence or creating an aesthetically pleasing effect. Costelloe suggests that achieving an aesthetically pleasing effect is an element in any exercise of the imagination’s creative power. The imagination creates easy transitions among ideas where there were none, where doing so is pleasurable, or aided by the passions.Costelloe introduces his account of Hume’s fictions as errors of the imagination whereby ideas are formed in a manner different from the standard derivation from antecedent impressions. He insists, helpfully, that fictions are not illusions, but rather errors of a different kind. Though both involve error, fictions, unlike illusions, are not described in terms of jest or irony (30).Though he acknowledges that Hume does not describe any fictions as “artificial,” Costelloe finds it helpful to draw a distinction between natural and artificial fictions. Natural fictions are generated without reflection. Artificial fictions, such as those created by poets and philosophers, issue from “the voluntary act of imagination” (31). Costelloe holds that artificial fictions “are rarely taken to refer to objects with real existence and that any professed belief is really a matter of people being persuaded of something and taking the ideas in question as having real referents, thus only lending themselves to their existence for one reason or another” (31). This is a bit unclear. Certainly, poetic fictions are voluntary creations not intended to refer to real objects. But substance, and the double existence of ideas and external objects, as philosophical fictions, surely both involve belief and the corresponding existential commitments on the part of the philosophers who are committed to them. It is also difficult to see the purported contrast between belief and taking ideas to have real referents.Chapter 2, on metaphysics, is the longest chapter in the book, and it addresses the fictions of the imagination in Hume’s account of space and time, continued and distinct existence, liberty and necessity, and personal identity. Costelloe is sensitive to the worry that classifying Hume’s subject in Book 1 of the Treatise as metaphysics may appear to be slighting the central epistemological concerns and failing to appreciate Hume’s nascent cognitive psychology. Such worries fall away as Costelloe explores the roles that the imagination plays in the formation of our conception of duration without change, and the identity... (shrink)

Spinoza unequivocally states in the Ethics that intuitive knowledge is more powerful than reason. Nonetheless, it is not clear what exactly this greater power promises in the face of the passions. Does this mean that intuitive knowledge is not liable to akrasia? Ronald Sandler offers what, to my knowledge, is the only explicit answer to this question in recent Spinoza scholarship. According to Sandler, intuitive knowledge, unlike reason, is not susceptible to akrasia. This is because, intuitive knowledge enables (...) the knower to greater power over the passions due to its immediacy, its foundation and because it engenders the boundlessly powerful intellectual love of God. In this paper, I consider to what extent intuitive knowledge is liable to akrasia by exploring whether Sandler's claim can justifiably be attributed to Spinoza. I argue that, given our modal status, it is not plausible to claim that akrasia would never apply to intuitive knowledge. Since intuitive ideas are the ideas of a finite .. (shrink)

There can be little disagreement about whether ideas of sense perception are, for Spinoza, to be classed as passions or actions—the former is obviously the correct answer. All this, however, does not mean that sense perception would be, for Spinoza, completely passive. In this essay I argue argues that there is in the Ethics an elaborate—and to my knowledge previously unacknowledged—line of reasoning according to which sense perception of finite things never fails to contain a definite active component. (...) This argument for activity in sense perception consists of two main parts: first, that ideas we form through sense perception have something adequate in them; second, that the adequate component is actively brought about. Discerning this line of thought connects to—and sheds some new light on—Spinoza’s general way of understanding ideas as entities involving activity. (shrink)

According to the spontaneity view of the role of the passions in moral deliberation, Aquinas holds that virtuous passions play an active role in moral deliberation, prior to the formation of moral judgement and choice. This article offers a qualified defense of this view. Qualified, because critics of this view are right to point out that Aquinas is generally suspicious of the passions, and he is careful to delimit the role that they can plan in processes of moral deliberation and (...) choice. A defense, nonetheless, because Aquinas does give a positive role to virtuous passions in the early stages of moral discernment and deliberation, prior to judgement. Furthermore, Aquinas has strong reasons to defend something like the spontaneity view, given his overall view of the virtues as perfections of the powers they inform. That in itself does not necessarily mean that he does defend the spontaneity view, but it does suggest that we can develop such a defense out of what he does say, in such a way as to extend and clarify central elements of his moral theory. (shrink)

In a beautiful recent essay, the philosopher Walter Sinnott-Armstrong explains the reasons for his departure from evangelical Christianity, the religious culture in which he was brought up. Sinnot-Armstrong contrasts the interpretive methods used by good philosophers and fundamentalist believers: Good philosophers face objections and uncertainties. They follow where arguments lead, even when their conclusions are surprising and disturbing. Intellectual honesty is also required of scholars who interpret philosophical texts. If I had distorted Kant’s view to make him reach a conclusion (...) that I preferred, then my philosophy professor would have failed me. The contrast with religious reasoning is stark. My Christian friends seemed happy to hide serious problems in the Bible and in their arguments. They preferred comfort to intellectual honesty. I couldn’t. To what extent can we, historians of philosophy, claim the virtue of intellectual honesty? Speaking frankly, I do not find the practice criticized by Sinnot-Armstrong’s philosophy professor rare or unusual at all. We very frequently distort the views of past philosophers in order to reach the conclusions we prefer. We just call it “Charitable Interpretation.” In this essay, I discuss and criticize the logic behind so-called charitable interpretations in the history of philosophy. This phenomenon is ubiquitous and is not at all restricted to a particular philosophical strand or ideology. Analytic philosophers and post-modernists, Marxists, liberals, secularists, and fundamentalists, we all engage in the very same domestication project. Even more disturbing than the sheer ideological pervasiveness of this phenomenon is the fact that, on many occasions, superb philosophers and historians take part in this fairly childish endeavor. In the first part of this essay, I discuss the general logic of charitable interpretations in the history of philosophy, mostly by addressing discussions in metaphysics and epistemology. In the second part, I focus on the somewhat less noticed use of charitable interpretations in the study of political philosophy, and point out the quintessential role ideology plays in these discussions. In both parts, I concentrate mostly on the interpretation of Spinoza’s thought. I do so not because I have special fondness for Spinoza (“guilty as charged,” I admit), but because Spinoza is such a beast (and may I add, an enchanting beast) and attracts a disproportionate share of the domestication efforts from historians and philosophers of all creeds and persuasions. In the third and final part of the paper, I will begin to outline an alternative methodology, which suggests that past philosophers can be most relevant to our current philosophical discussion, to the extent that they provide us with well-motivated challenges to our common-sense beliefs. Such challenges have the invaluable virtue of being able to undermine our most fundamental and secure beliefs, and force us to engage with the most fundamental questions. What more can we expect from good philosophy? (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Passion and Action: The Emotions in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy by Susan JamesRichard A. WatsonSusan James. Passion and Action: The Emotions in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Pp. vii + 318. Cloth, $35.00.Susan James shows how during the seventeenth century philosophers moved from the three souls of Aristotle and the tripartite soul of Thomas Aquinas in which passions and reasons compete for the attention of the will, (...) to a Cartesian view of man as a single soul in union with the body who wills under the influence of both passions and reasons, to a Hobbesian view that the soul is the body and that the bodily motions we call reasons and passions are desires; acts of will are merely the deciding desires in deterministic causal sequences of the material motions of the body that constitute desires. This sets up the contemporary view that, motions are caused by desires and beliefs, leaving behind the difficulties of integrating with one another Aristotelian souls, Thomistic faculties, and Cartesian mind and body. James conceives of this evolution as one of unification of mental and bodily powers, and of integration of the active and passive powers of the mind. This concourse also represents a development from theories meant to explain to theories calculated for control and finally to theories facilitating therapy. Aristotle and Thomas adapted their ontologies to perceived differences in powers and faculties, while Descartes and Hobbes worked toward an ideal of unity of science and nature. The Christian Descartes brought together all the substances and powers of nature under a single extended matter divided into parts by the single force of motion, but he excepted the human soul with its power of will to alter the course of nature. The atheist Hobbes simply dispensed with supernatural [End Page 168] mental substance and occult power of will in order to integrate the whole of nature (including sensing and reasoning) under a cause and effect sequence of moving material bodies in which the last desire in a sequence of human bodily motions is designated as an act of will.James intends her book “as a contribution to the reinstatement of the emotions within philosophy, to the… opinion that we need to take account of our emotional life if we are to understand… moral motivation and growth, the springs of action (rational and otherwise), and the nature of reasoning” (22). She agrees that the sharp division between ideas and passions or emotions is properly abolished to be replaced by the view that all ideas have an emotional component, and all passions an ideational component. This fits with the parallel development of the notion that all sensible perceptions are propositional, and the somewhat less widespread notion that all concepts have a sensible component.But did this development result in a view of passions and ideas, learning and knowing, thinking and action, that is more true to nature than Aristotelian ontology? It is very hard to answer this question, and despite her sympathies with the notion that all human thought is both conceptual and emotional, James does not try. The reason we don’t know lies under the surface of the movement from Aristotle to Hobbes (i.e., to Daniel Dennett) like a monster in the deep. The monster is the monotheistic God, the perfection and unity of which underlies the Western drive to a unitary view of nature including man. The possibility that this God could be a deceiver, and so all our sensations and ideas might not represent the real world, set up Cartesianism and modern hypothetico-deductive science. But lurking throughout James’ book is a more palpable dreadnought, a demoness, the woman Eve. The female is responsible for the Fall of Man, and thus the fear and suspicion of women that suffuses patriarchic Christianity, and is expressed openly by such philosophers as Malebranche. Bodily passions and emotions (particularly the concupiscent ones) are nasty, evil, irrational, overpowering; to wit, they are feminine. They are not to be trusted, and must be subdued. So while still driven by ideals of monotheism, Descartes and Hobbes do move beyond the dogmatic Christian association of the emotions with female treachery. Even so... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:372 THE ROLE OF REASON IN HUME'S THEORY OF BELIEF Much has been written on Hume's theory of belief, yet problems of interpretation remain as serious as ever. The most pervasive and persistent problem relates to the role reason plays in Hume's conception of belief. When Hume says that belief is a matter of feeling, does he mean to say that reason has nothing to do with it, or (...) that belief is not a matter of choice? Does he imply that one cannot be blamed for believing as one does? The view that belief is unavoidable and not a matter of choice, and its implication, seem counter-intuitive, if not drastic. Are there grounds for attributing such a view to Hume? There is indeed a tendency to interpret Hume as saying that reason plays no role, not just in the moral sphere, but in the understanding as well. Thus, Barry Stroud claims that "in Hume's hands the denigration of the role of reason and the corresponding elevation of feeling and sentiment is generalized into a total theory of man." Elsewhere I have argued against this view insofar as it relates 2 to Hume's moral theory. But the dismay at Hume's (alleged) denigration of reason is even greater in the case of belief. For instance, Antony Flew considers Hume's view that belief is "a species of natural instincts, which no reason or process of the thought and understanding is able either to produce or to prevent" as a "drastic and disastrous conclusion." According to Flew, one drastic and disastrous consequence of such a view is that "insofar as belief really is necessary and unavoidable we can neither criticize others for the irrationality of their convictions nor retain any 4 confidence about the rationality of our own." 373 In a more sympathetic reading of Hume, J. A. Passmore has cited evidence to show that Hume acknowledges that belief can be a matter of choice, 5 and thus there can be an ethics of belief. However, in doing so Passmore presents an inconsistency in Hume's view of belief, and does nothing to account for this inconsistency. Barbara Winters also sees inconsistencies, or paradoxes, in Hume's treatment, not only within Book I of the Treatise, but also between it and the other two Books (and between the Enquiries). Her resolution of the paradox is the suggestion that there are two conceptions of reason in Hume, the "traditional" and the "naturalistic," the former "plays no role in our acquisition of fundamental beliefs," and the latter is such that we do indeed "arrive at our beliefs through reasoning." In this paper I wish to argue that there are no inconsistencies, or paradoxes, in Hume's treatment of belief, and that his view is neither drastic nor disastrous. I wish to show that there is no 'denigration' of reason, " and that while belief is a matter of feeling, it is also, to an important degree, a matter of choice. In promoting the "undoubted truth, that belief is nothing but a peculiar feeling," Hume does write in such a way as to encourage the interpretation that he subordinates the role of reason to feelings (or sentiments, or passions), or worse, that he denigrates the role of reason. He tells us that belief is not "some new idea, such as that of reality or existence, which we join to the simple conception of an object" (T 623). If it were, "it wou'd be in a man's power to believe what he 374 pleas 'd" (T 624), as the mind can mix or join any two ideas. Hume tells us that we can easily "discover by experiments" that belief "arises immediately, without any new operation of the reason or imagination" (T 102). The widely quoted sentence is the following: "When the mind... passes from the idea or impression of one object to the idea or belief of another, it is not determin'd by reason..." (T 92). These and other statements clearly encourage the interpretation that belief does not arise from reason, or indeed that reason has nothing to do with belief. Depending on how far one sees the... (shrink)

Spinoza claims we can control any passion by forming a more clear and distinct idea of it. The interpretive consensus is that Spinoza is either wrong or over-stating his view. I argue that Spinoza’s view is plausible and insightful. After breaking down Spinoza’s characterization of the relevant act, I consider four existing interpretations and conclude that each is unsatisfactory. I then consider a further problem for Spinoza: how his definitions of ‘action’ and ‘passion’ make room (...) for passions becoming action. I propose two solutions to this problem, both of which yield a hint regarding what act Spinoza has in mind. Using that hint, I propose that we can appreciate Spinoza’s insight by considering how philosophizing about a feeling can 'kill the mood.' The act of grasping how a passion exemplifies certain general truths, I hold, is a distinctly rational activity that has all the features Spinoza describes. I conclude by showing how this interpretation fits with Spinoza’s larger views on rational knowledge, rational joy, the comprehensibility of passions, and the relation between second- and first-order ideas. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Persons and Passions: Essays in Honor of Annette BaierLorenzo GrecoJoyce Jenkins, Jennifer Whiting, and Christopher Williams, eds. Persons and Passions: Essays in Honor of Annette Baier. Notre Dame IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005. Pp. 368. ISBN 0-268-03263-7, Cloth, $53.00.Annette Baier stands out as a figure of prime importance on the contemporary philosophical horizon. This volume finally brings the proper recognition she deserves, presenting a rich collection (...) of essays in her honor. Persons and Passions proves to be extremely interesting both for the discussion of Baier’s own philosophical reflection and as an example of how Baier represents an unparalleled source of inspiration for anyone concerned with the philosophers who have been at the forefront of her interests. Although Baier’s preference is surely for David Hume, her intellectual curiosity and scholarly mastery cover a wider area spanning from Descartes to Kant.This is well represented by the structure of Persons and Passions: the volume is composed of sixteen essays which broadly fall into three groups, respectively concerned with the philosophy of Hume, Descartes or Kant. Lisa Shapiro, William Beardsley, Amy Morgan Schmitter, and Cecilia Wee are all concerned with the philosophy of Descartes, in particular as it is presented in the Meditations on First Philosophy. A major segment of the volume is devoted to examining diverse tenets of Hume’s thought, with essays by Saul Traiger, Lilli Alanen, Donald Ainslie, Janet Broughton, Alasdair MacIntyre, David Gauthier, and Robert Shaver. Then, in their papers, Sergio Tenenbaum and Michele Moody-Adams defend a Kantian explanation of the notions of friendship and cruelty. Finally, Karen Jones and Jennifer Whiting close the book by exploring the specular notions of trust and distrust. Baier’s lessons have been carefully absorbed by all contributors. A detailed analysis of the essays would take more space than a review allows, so I will concentrate only on those concerned with Hume, and try to single out from them the trace of Baier’s teaching.The notions of person and passion (as Christopher Williams explains in his useful introduction) are central to Baier’s general approach to philosophy, and they play an important part in the section of the book dedicated to Hume. Traiger looks into the relation between reason and the passions starting from the example of the man hanging over a precipice in an iron cage Hume introduces in A Treatise of Human Nature 1.3.13, and investigates how other philosophers before Hume had explained the reason-passions relation by means of the same argument. Traiger’s conclusion is that whereas for Montaigne, Pascal and Malebranche the precipice phenomenon proves that our passions will always overwhelm our best reasoning (in turn, demonstrating the separation of mind and body), for Descartes and Hume [End Page 229] it is not so. But whereas in Descartes this is because of the power reason possesses as a separate and independent faculty to silence the passions, in Hume the instance of the fear we feel before a precipice is a clear illustration of the interdependence of reason, passion, and imagination, which occupy “a shared arena, where regularities can be investigated and appropriate conclusions drawn” (114).Many of the essays echo one of the main features of Baier’s interpretation of Hume, namely the necessity of defining a peculiar kind of naturalism which has to be conceived within the frame of the reflective practices in which human beings are engaged as social animals. Alanen offers an analysis of the structure of the passions in Hume, starting from a consideration of the various ways the notion of reflection can help clarify the nature of passions and their intentionality. She defends a form of “natural intentionality” (133), according to which passions are intentional acts with bodily expressions which do not need to presuppose conceptually articulated propositions or judgments. In doing this Alanen discusses the role played by emotional exchange among human beings in the constitution of a unified notion of the self. A similar topic is at the center of Ainslie’s essay, which presents a thorough exploration of the principle of sympathy and of the role the self occupies within its mechanism. Ainslie... (shrink)

This guide has an introduction and five chapters, one for each of the parts of Spinoza's Ethics. The Introduction includes background material necessary for productive study of the Ethics: advice for working with Spinoza's geometrical method, a biographical sketch of Spinoza, and accounts of important predecessors: Aristotle, Maimonides, and Descartes. The chapters that follow trace the Ethics in detail, including accounts of most of the elements in Spinoza's book and raising questions for further research. Chapter 1, (...) "One Infinite Substance," covers central arguments of Spinoza's substance monism. Chapter 2, "The Idea of the Human Body," follows Spinoza's detailed metaphysics of ordinary objects, his theory of mind, and his epistemology. Chapter 3, "Desire, Joy, and Sadness," works from Spinoza's broad theory of finite activity in the striving to persevere in being to his detailed accounts of human action and passion. Chapter 4, "Bondage to Passion," emphasizes Spinoza's formal theory of value, his intellectualism in ethics, and particular claims about value that follow from these commitments. Chapter 5, "The Power of the Intellect," begins with Spinoza's criticism of Descartes's account of our ability to control passion and moves to Spinoza's own theory, which emphasizes reason, the eternal part of the mind, and human blessedness. (shrink)

We sometimes imagine that diversity of religion, culture and ethnicity is a problem of the present, one that sets our time apart. However in the 17th century at the end of the Reformation and the wars of religion that divided Europe, overthrowing medieval institutions, social, political and religious hierarchies that had dominated for centuries, the question of how to govern a diverse multitude of individuals was a pressing practical and theoretical question. By taking human diversity as primary, Baruch Spinoza (...) proposed a theory of the state that does not require pre-existing unity among individuals and so provides a theory of justice, which can be scaled to the global. Further, Spinoza’s theory of political and individual power offers positive reasons why we may want to build global democratic institutions to solve the problems of global justice. (shrink)

In addition to the notion of power (potentia), Spinoza employs the notion of power of acting (agendi potentia), especially in the Ethics. This raises the question, if Spinoza uses both ‘power’ and ‘power of acting’, what is the difference between the two? What else could power be, for Spinoza, but power of acting? What is the relationship between power and activity in his system? This essays aims at giving answers to these questions; thereby emerges what may be (...) called an actualist model of God’s power. (shrink)

This article reviews the influence of Stoic thought on the development of Spinoza's and Nietzsche's ethics and suggests that although both philosophers follow the Stoics in conceiving of ethics as a therapeutic enterprise that aims at human freedom and flourishing, they part company with Stoicism in refusing to identify flourishing with freedom from the passions. In making this claim, I take issue with the standard view of Spinoza's ethics, according to which the passions figure exclusively as a source (...) of unhappiness and bondage from which we must be liberated. I argue that, in fact, Spinoza anticipates Nietzsche and breaks with the Stoics in offering a more positive assessment of the role of passion in a flourishing life. The reading pursued here takes Spinoza's divergence from the Stoic account of the passions to be a consequence of his insistence on the immanence of human being in nature. I outline Spinoza's and Nietzsche's conception of immanence and suggest that it entails a common understanding of our nature as dynamic power or desire, which is simultaneously expressed as a capacity to act and be acted on, to affect and to be affected. The recognition of the complex relationship between passive and active power requires a revaluation of our vulnerability and openness to what can affect us and leads each philosopher to a consideration of the ways in which the passions might be made to support our striving to increase our power and to realize an essentially limited freedom and precarious flourishing. Copyright. (shrink)

Through a detailed study of Spinoza's concept of 'experience', Moreau shows how Spinoza extends the power of reason to capture the singularity of individuals: their lives, languages, passions and societies.

Spinoza's Theological-Political Treatise (1670) is one of the most important philosophical works of the early modern period. In it Spinoza discusses at length the historical circumstances of the composition and transmission of the Bible, demonstrating the fallibility of both its authors and its interpreters. He argues that free enquiry is not only consistent with the security and prosperity of a state but actually essential to them, and that such freedom flourishes best in a democratic and republican state in (...) which individuals are left free while religious organizations are subordinated to the secular power. His Treatise has profoundly influenced the subsequent history of political thought, Enlightenment 'clandestine' or radical philosophy, Bible hermeneutics, and textual criticism more generally. It is presented here in a translation of great clarity and accuracy by Michael Silverthorne and Jonathan Israel, with a substantial historical and philosophical introduction by Jonathan Israel. (shrink)

With respect to the topic of “powers and abilities,” most readers will associate David Hume with his multi-pronged critique of traditional attempts to make robust explanatory use of those notions in a philosophical or scientific context. But Hume’s own philosophy is also structured around the attribution to human beings of a variety of basic faculties or mental powers – such as the reason and the imagination, or the various powers involved in Hume’s account of im- pressions of reflection and the (...) passions. Indeed, there is a clear case to be made that, despite his deflationary account of our concept of power, Hume continues to treat certain basic powers or faculties as forming the explanatory bedrock for his new “science of man”. In this essay, I will discuss how this apparent conflict between the “critical” (if not outright skeptical) and “constructive” aspects of Hume’s discussion of powers and abilities is best resolved – with special attention to the question of how this illuminates Hume’s place in the development of early modern conceptions of the proper method for philosophy. (shrink)

Spinoza’s account of reason in the Short Treatise has been largely neglected. That account, I argue, has at least four features which distinguish it from that of the Ethics: in the Short Treatise, (1) reason is more sharply distinguished from the faculty of intuitive knowledge, (2) reason deals with things as though they were ‘outside’ us, (3) reason lacks clarity and distinctness, and (4) reason has no power over many types of passions. I argue that these differences have a (...) unified explanation, consisting of a principle that Spinoza accepts in both works and a central change in his views. The principle is that whatever we find in ourselves has more power over us than anything which comes from outside, and the change is in making the objects of reason common things or common notions. Understanding this, I claim, sheds important light on the psychological and epistemological motivations behind Spinoza's mature doctrines. (shrink)