First published in 1958, this book focuses on the meaning, interpretation, and use of the verb ‘to know’. In our daily lives we are often claiming to know this or not to know that; and it is not therefore surprising that the verb has played a major role in philosophical speculation from Plato down to Bertrand Russell. This book analyses the varying meanings of ‘know’ in its different operational roles: knowing Jones seems to have a different sort of logic from (...) knowing French or from knowing what to do – and equally from knowing that the earth is round and from knowing how to read music. Knowing something is also different from merely believing it. The main purpose of this book is to elucidate, in a new and original way, this whole question of the logical behaviour of ‘know’; but its further and no less important purpose is to show how, once we have grasped the way in which certain key ‘know’-statements function, a number of philosophical disputes may be discussed more fruitfully and settled more expeditiously. Some of the analyses offered will be regarded as controversial and will undoubtedly provoke discussion. The style is lucid and economical and technical terms are reduced to a minimum. This work is intended not only for the professional philosopher and the university student, but also for the general reader who is interested in the methods of modern philosophical analysis. (shrink)

First published in 1960, this book is intended to be a concise but complete treatise on Ethics. In the course of our lives we all face moral problems. Some of these we solve easily, some with difficulty and some not at all. It is the job of the moral philosopher to examine the general nature of these problems and to investigate their logical significance. His task however extends beyond investigating what are specifically moral problems; for he is concerned with the (...) whole field of moral discourse – that is, with moral prescriptions and evaluations of all kinds. For this reason the branch of philosophy known as Ethics may usefully be defined as the study of the logic of moral discourse. This volume is written in clear and straightforward language and is liberally illustrated with practical examples. It should appeal, not only to teachers and students of Ethics in universities, but also to the general reader who is interested in seeing how an important branch of philosophy is presented with the aid of analytical methods. (shrink)

First published in 1958, this book focuses on the meaning, interpretation, and use of the verb 'to know'. In our daily lives we are often claiming to know this or not to know that; and it is not therefore surprising that the verb has played a major role in philosophical speculation from Plato down to Bertrand Russell. This book analyses the varying meanings of 'know' in its different operational roles: knowing Jones seems to have a different sort of logic from (...) knowing French or from knowing what to do - and equally from knowing that the earth is round and from knowing how to read music. Knowing something is also different from merely believing it. The main purpose of this book is to elucidate, in a new and original way, this whole question of the logical behaviour of 'know'; but its further and no less important purpose is to show how, once we have grasped the way in which certain key 'know'-statements function, a number of philosophical disputes may be discussed more fruitfully and settled more expeditiously. Some of the analyses offered will be regarded as controversial and will undoubtedly provoke discussion. The style is lucid and economical and technical terms are reduced to a minimum. This work is intended not only for the professional philosopher and the university student, but also for the general reader who is interested in the methods of modern philosophical analysis. (shrink)

It is one of the unfortunate habits of great philosophers to leave behind them unclarified points of doctrine which give headaches to those anxious to view their systems as coherent wholes, and often lead to considerable confusion, or even contradiction, in attempts at critical exposition. An outstanding example of this is furnished by Descartes' treatment of “simple natures.”To interpret what Descartes really meant by simple natures as described in the Regulae ad directionem ingenii, and to integrate this with what he (...) said in his published works is by no means an easy task—as the differing views of various critics clearly indicate. One has only to compare, say, the expositions of Chevalier, Boyce Gibson and Keeling to see that there is little unanimity of opinion as to the actual connotation of simple natures, their proper role in the Cartesian metaphysic, their terminological equivalents in the Meditations and Principles, and their ontological as opposed to epistemological status. Many critics, as Dr. Keeling complains, have seen fit “to discuss them when treating of his method, and omit all reference to them thereafter.” To make any comprehensive attempt to sort out this critical Verwirrung, however, would require considerable space. What I shall do here, therefore, will be to state the problem as simply as I can and then offer a solution in the light of the evidence available—although I admit that short of recalling Descartes from his grave there can be no final solution. (shrink)

That Plato was in some sense a poet is a fact which most of us are prepared to recognize without much hesitation. What is not always clear is how far any of his Dialogues, in whole or in part, may be justly described as poetry, and to what extent his “poeticalness” must affect our critical approach to, and hence our evaluation of, his philosophy as a whole. And this, in effect, is the problem to which I propose to address myself (...) in this paper. Before, however, I attempt to discuss what is an exceptionally complicated issue, a few remarks of a more general nature will not perhaps be out of place-for the need of caution in any approach to Plato is obvious from the start. (shrink)

In my previous paper I endeavoured to illustrate the different ways in which Plato used poetry for philosophical purposes, and it now remains to attempt a final appraisal of the success or failure of Plato considered specifically as a poetic philosopher. But before I embark on what will prove a somewhat complicated task it is necessary for me to refer briefly to certain theories concerning Plato's use of myth, since they vitally affect the philosophical significance of his poetic method—and it (...) is this philosophical significance which is our principal problem in any final evaluation. (shrink)

Professor Lewis's paper, which appeared in a recent issue of this journal, raised many interesting problems. I propose, however, to deal only with the principal question which Mr. Lewis himself stated as follows: Just what is theology, what does it do? Mr. Lewis's own answer as to what it does—or rather what it should do to-day—an answer which came rightly enough at the end of his paper, was, briefly, that theology should become creative as opposed to static. That is to (...) say, it should, on the analogy of art criticism, “‘render’ the religious experiences of the past by performing upon them as a whole, and with all the help which careful scholarship can provide, an operation not dissimilar to that performed in the complete symbolism of the original experience upon the elements of more overt meaning within it.”. (shrink)

It is one of the unfortunate habits of great philosophers to leave behind them unclarified points of doctrine which give headaches to those anxious to view their systems as coherent wholes, and often lead to considerable confusion, or even contradiction, in attempts at critical exposition. An outstanding example of this is furnished by Descartes' treatment of “simple natures.” To interpret what Descartes really meant by simple natures as described in the Regulae ad directionem ingenii , and to integrate this with (...) what he said in his published works is by no means an easy task—as the differing views of various critics clearly indicate. One has only to compare, say, the expositions of Chevalier, Boyce Gibson and Keeling to see that there is little unanimity of opinion as to the actual connotation of simple natures, their proper role in the Cartesian metaphysic, their terminological equivalents in the Meditations and Principles , and their ontological as opposed to epistemological status. Many critics, as Dr. Keeling complains, have seen fit “to discuss them when treating of his method, and omit all reference to them thereafter.” To make any comprehensive attempt to sort out this critical Verwirrung , however, would require considerable space. What I shall do here, therefore, will be to state the problem as simply as I can and then offer a solution in the light of the evidence available—although I admit that short of recalling Descartes from his grave there can be no final solution. (shrink)

SUMMARY Every case of knowing that S is, was or will be P involves, when analysed, some decision or the acceptance of some decision. This applies equally when you are discussing the so-called tautological propositions of logic and pure mathematics; for you can only claim to “know” that some logical or mathematical proposition is true because you have previously decided to accept that certain meanings shall be attached to certain words, or that certain symbols shall function in a certain way. (...) When we examine what philosophers are doing who demand that we prefix “we know” to this or that part of their analyses of perceptual situations, we find that they are often using “know” in a question-begging manner in order to buttress some particular, and usually contentious, analysis. Nor is any philosopher in a position to lay down rigid and precise rules for the proper use of “know” in ordinary conversation; although he can usefully debate the nature and cogency of the grounds on which decisions, issuing in “know”-statements, are generally made. Lastly, Austin is quite right in claiming that when I say “I know” I give my authority and pledge my word, which I do not do when I merely say “I believe”; but I give my authority and pledge my word only because I have decided, or accepted a decision, that so and so is the case. (shrink)

Professor Lewis's paper, which appeared in a recent issue of this journal, raised many interesting problems. I propose, however, to deal only with the principal question which Mr. Lewis himself stated as follows: Just what is theology, what does it do? Mr. Lewis's own answer as to what it does—or rather what it should do to-day—an answer which came rightly enough at the end of his paper, was, briefly, that theology should become creative as opposed to static. That is to (...) say, it should, on the analogy of art criticism, “‘render’ the religious experiences of the past by performing upon them as a whole, and with all the help which careful scholarship can provide, an operation not dissimilar to that performed in the complete symbolism of the original experience upon the elements of more overt meaning within it.”. (shrink)