Sentences that are ungrammatical and yet intelligible are instances of what I call perfectly thinkable thoughts. I argue that the existence of perfectly thinkable thoughts is revealing in regard to the question of why syntactic islands should exist. If language is an instrument of thought as understood in the biolinguistics tradition, then a uniquely human subset of thoughts is generated in narrow syntax, which suggests that island constraints cannot be rooted in narrow syntax (...) alone and thus must reflect interface conditions imposed on the output of the computational system and its mapping to external systems. (shrink)

continent. 1.1 : 3-13. / 0/ – Introduction I want to propose, as a trajectory into the philosophically weird, an absurd theoretical claim and pursue it, or perhaps more accurately, construct it as I point to it, collecting the ground work behind me like the Perpetual Train from China Mieville's Iron Council which puts down track as it moves reclaiming it along the way. The strange trajectory is the following: Kant's critical philosophy and much of continental philosophy which has followed, (...) has been a defense against horror and madness. Kant's prohibition on speculative metaphysics such as dogmatic metaphysics and transcendental realism, on thinking beyond the imposition of transcendental and moral constraints, has been challenged by numerous figures proceeding him. One of the more interesting critiques of Kant comes from the mad black Deleuzianism of Nick Land stating, “Kant’s critical philosophy is the most elaborate fit of panic in the history of the Earth.” And while Alain Badiou would certainly be opposed to the libidinal investments of Land's Deleuzo-Guattarian thought, he is likewise critical of Kant's normative thought-bureaucracies: Kant is the one author for whom I cannot feel any kinship. Everything in him exasperates me, above all his legalism—always asking Quid Juris? Or ‘Haven’t you crossed the limit?’—combined, as in today’s United States, with a religiosity that is all the more dismal in that it is both omnipresent and vague. The critical machinery he set up has enduringly poisoned philosophy, while giving great succour to the academy, which loves nothing more than to rap the knuckles of the overambitious [….] That is how I understand the truth of Monique David-Menard’s reflections on the properly psychotic origins of Kantianism. I am persuaded that the whole of the critical enterprise is set up to to shield against the tempting symptom represented by the seer Swedenborg, or against ‘diseases of the head’, as Kant puts it. An entire nexus of the limits of reason and philosophy are set up here, namely that the critical philosophy not only defends thought from madness, philosophy from madness, and philosophy from itself, but that philosophy following the advent of the critical enterprise philosophy becomes auto-vampiric; feeding on itself to support the academy. Following Francois Laruelle's non-philosophical indictment of philosophy, we could go one step further and say that philosophy operates on the material of what is philosophizable and not the material of the external world. [1] Beyond this, the Kantian scheme of nestling human thinking between our limited empirical powers and transcendental guarantees of categorical coherence, forms of thinking which stretch beyond either appear illegitimate, thereby liquefying both pre-critical metaphysics and the ravings of the mad in the same critical acid. In rejecting the Kantian apparatus we are left with two entities – an unsure relation of thought to reality where thought is susceptible to internal and external breakdown and a reality with an uncertain sense of stability. These two strands will be pursued, against the sane-seal of post-Kantian philosophy by engaging the work of weird fiction authors H.P. Lovecraft and Thomas Ligotti. The absolute inhumanism of the formers universe will be used to describe a Shoggothic Materialism while the dream worlds of the latter will articulate the mad speculation of a Ventriloquil Idealism. But first we must address the relation of philosophy to madness as well as philosophy to weird fiction. /1/ – Philosophy and Madness There is nothing that the madness of men invents which is not either nature made manifest or nature restored. Michel Foucault. Madness and Civilization. The moment I doubt whether an event that I recall actually took place, I bring the suspicion of madness upon myself: unless I am uncertain as to whether it was not a mere dream. Arthur Schopenhauer. The World as Will and Idea, Vol. 3. Madness is commonly thought of as moving through several well known cultural-historical shifts from madness as a demonic or otherwise theological force, to rationalization, to medicalization psychiatric and otherwise. Foucault's Madness and Civilization is well known for orientating madness as a form of exclusionary social control which operated by demarcating madness from reason. Yet Foucault points to the possibility of madness as the necessity of nature at least prior to the crushing weight of the church. Kant’s philosophy as a response to madness is grounded by his humanizing of madness itself. As Adrian Johnston points out in the early pages of Time Driven pre-Kantian madness meant humans were seized by demonic or angelic forces whereas Kantian madness became one of being too human. Madness becomes internalized, the external demonic forces become flaws of the individual mind. Foucault argues that, while madness is de-demonized it is also dehumanized during the Renaissance, as madmen become creatures neither diabolic nor totally human reduced to the zero degree of humanity. It is immediately clear why for Kant, speculative metaphysics must be curbed – with the problem of internal madness and without the external safeguards of transcendental conditions, there is nothing to formally separate the speculative capacities for metaphysical diagnosis from the mad ramblings of the insane mind – both equally fall outside the realm of practicality and quotidian experience. David-Menard's work is particularly useful in diagnosing the relation of thought and madness in Kant's texts. David-Menard argues that in Kant's relatively unknown “An Essay on the Maladies of the Mind” as well as his later discussion of the Seer of Swedenborg, that Kant formulates madness primarily in terms of sensory upheaval or other hallucinatory theaters. She writes: “madness is an organization of thought. It is made possible by the ambiguity of the normal relation between the imaginary and the perceived, whether this pertains to the order of sensation or to the relations between our ideas” Kant's fascination with the Seer forces Kant between the pincers of “aesthetic reconciliation” – namely melancholic withdrawal – and “a philosophical invention” – namely the critical project. Deleuze and Guattari's schizoanalysis is a combination and reversal of Kant's split, where an aesthetic over engagement with the world entails prolific conceptual invention. Their embrace of madness, however, is of course itself conceptual despite all their rhizomatic maneuvers. Though they move with the energy of madness, Deleuze and Guattari save the capacity of thought from the fangs of insanity by imbuing materiality itself with the capacity for thought. Or, as Ray Brassier puts it, “Deleuze insists, it is necessary to absolutize the immanence of this world in such a way as to dissolve the transcendent disjunction between things as we know them and as they are in themselves”. That is, whereas Kant relied on the faculty of judgment to divide representation from objectivity Deleuze attempts to flatten the whole economy beneath the juggernaut of ontological univocity. Speculation, as a particularly useful form of madness, might fall close to Deleuze and Guattari’s shaping of philosophy into a concept producing machine but is different in that it is potentially self destructive – less reliant on the stability of its own concepts and more adherent to exposing a particular horrifying swath of reality. Speculative madness is always a potential disaster in that it acknowledges little more than its own speculative power with the hope that the gibbering of at least a handful of hysterical brains will be useful. Pre-critical metaphysics amounts to madness, though this may be because the world itself is mad while new attempts at speculative metaphysics, at post-Kantian pre-critical metaphysics, are well aware of our own madness. Without the sobriety of the principle of sufficient reason we have a world of neon madness: “we would have to conceive what our life would be if all the movements of the earth, all the noises of the earth, all the smells, the tastes, all the light – of the earth and elsewhere, came to us in a moment, in an instant – like an atrocious screaming tumult of things”. Speculative thought may be participatory in the screaming tumult of the world or, worse yet, may produce its spectral double. Against theology or reason or simply commonsense, the speculative becomes heretical. Speculation, as the cognitive extension of the horrorific sublime should be met with melancholic detachment. Whereas Kant's theoretical invention, or productivity of thought, is self -sabotaging, since the advent of the critical project is a productivity of thought which then delimits the engine of thought at large either in dogmatic gestures or non-systematizable empirical wondrousness. The former is celebrated by the fiction of Thomas Ligotti whereas the latter is espoused by the tales of H.P. Lovecraft. /2/ – Weird Fiction and Philosophy. Supernatural horror, in all its eerie constructions, enables a reader to taste treats inconsistent with his personal welfare. Thomas Ligotti Songs of a Dead Dreamer. I choose weird stories because they suit my inclination best—one of my strongest and most persistent wishes being to achieve,momentarily, the illusion of some strange suspension or violation of the galling limitations of time, space, and natural law which forever imprison us and frustrate our curiosity about the infinite cosmic spaces beyond the radius of our sight and analysis H.P. Lovecraft. “Notes on Writing Weird Fiction” Lovecraft states that his creation of a story is to suspend natural law yet, at the same time, he indexes the tenuousness of such laws, suggesting the vast possibilities of the cosmic. The tension that Lovecraft sets up between his own fictions and the universe or nature is reproduced within his fictions in the common theme of the unreliable narrator; unreliable precisely because they are either mad or what they have witnessed questions the bounds of material reality. In “The Call of Cthulhu” Lovecraft writes: The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age. Despite Lovecraft's invocations of illusion, he is not claiming that his fantastic creations such as the Old Ones are supernatural but, following Joshi, are only ever supernormal. One can immediately see that instead of nullifying realism Lovecraft in fact opens up the real to an unbearable degree. In various letters and non-fictional statements Lovecraft espoused strictly materialist tenets, ones which he borrowed from Hugh Elliot namely the uniformity of law, the denial of teleology and the denial of non-material existence. Lovecraft seeks to explore the possibilities of such a universe by piling horror upon horror until the fragile brain which attempts to grasp it fractures. This may be why philosophy has largely ignored weird fiction – while Deleuze and Guattari mark the turn towards weird fiction and Lovecraft in particular, with the precursors to speculative realism as well as contemporary related thinkers have begun to view Lovecraft as making philosophical contributions. Lovecraft's own relation to philosophy is largely critical while celebrating Nietzsche and Schopenhauer. This relationship of Lovecraft to philosophy and philosophy to Lovecraft is coupled with Lovecraft's habit of mercilessly destroying the philosopher and the figure of the academic more generally in his work, a destruction which is both an epistemological destruction and an ontological destruction. Thomas Ligotti's weird fiction which he has designated as a kind of “confrontational escapism” might be best described in the following quote from one of his shortstories, “The human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion each of which winds itself on the supreme insanity. That there are persons of any kind when all there can be is mindless mirrors laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream”. Whereas Lovecraft's weirdness draws predominantly from the abyssal depths of the uncharted universe, Ligotti's existential horror focuses on the awful proliferation of meaningless surfaces that is, the banal and every day function of representation. In an interview, Ligotti states: We don't even know what the world is like except through our sense organs, which are provably inadequate. It's no less the case with our brains. Our whole lives are motored along by forces we cannot know and perceptions that are faulty. We sometimes hear people say that they're not feeling themselves. Well, who or what do they feel like then? This is not to say that Ligotti sees nothing beneath the surface but that there is only darkness or blackness behind it, whether that surface is on the cosmological level or the personal. By addressing the implicit and explicit philosophical issues in Ligotti's work we will see that his nightmarish take on reality is a form of malevolent idealism, an idealism which is grounded in a real, albeit dark and obscure materiality. If Ligotti's horrors ultimately circle around mad perceptions which degrade the subject, it takes aim at the vast majority of the focus of continental philosophy. While Lovecraft's acidic materialism clearly assaults any romantic concept of being from the outside, Ligotti attacks consciousness from the inside: Just a little doubt slipped into the mind, a little trickle of suspicion in the bloodstream, and all those eyes of ours, one by one, open up to the world and see its horror [...] Not even the solar brilliance of a summer day will harbor you from horror. For horror eats the light and digests it into darkness. Clearly, the weird fiction of Lovecraft and Ligotti amount to a anti-anthrocentric onslaught against the ramparts of correlationist continental philosophy. /3/ – Shoggothic Materialism or the Formless Formless protoplasm able to mock and reflect all forms and organs and processes—viscous agglutinations of bubbling cells—rubbery fifteen-foot spheroids infinitely plastic and ductile—slaves of suggestion, builders of cities—more and more sullen, more and more intelligent, more and more amphibious, more and more imitative—Great God! What madness made even those blasphemous Old Ones willing to use and to carve such things? H.P. Lovecraft. “At the Mountains of Madness” On the other hand, affirming that the universe resembles nothing and is only formless amounts to saying that the universe is something like a spider or spit. Georges Bataille. “Formless”. The Shoggoths feature most prominently in H.P. Lovecraft's shortstory “At the Mountains of Madness” where they are described in the following manner: It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train – a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self -luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter. The term is a litmus test for materialism itself as the Shoggoth is an amorphous creature. The Shoggoths were living digging machines bio engineered by the Elder Things, and their protoplasmic bodies being formed into various tools by their hypnotic powers. The Shoggoths eventually became self aware and rose up against their masters in an ultimately failed rebellion. After the Elder Ones retreated into the oceans leaving the Shoggoths to roam the frozen wastes of the Antarctic. The onto-genesis of the Shoggoths and their gross materiality, index the horrifyingly deep time of the earth a concept near and dear to Lovecraft's formulation of horror as well as the fear of intelligences far beyond, and far before, the ascent of humankind on earth and elsewhere. The sickly amorphous nature of the Shoggoths invade materialism at large, where while materiality is unmistakably real ie not discursive, psychological, or otherwise overly subjectivist, it questions the relation of materialism to life. As Eugene Thacker writes: The Shoggoths or Elder Things do not even share the same reality with the human beings who encounter them—and yet this encounter takes place, though in a strange no-place that is neither quite that of the phenomenal world of the human subject or the noumenal world of an external reality. Amorphous yet definitively material beings are a constant in Lovecraft's tales. In his tale “The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadatth” Lovecraft describes Azathoth as, “that shocking final peril which gibbers unmentionably outside the ordered universe,” that, “last amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blashphemes and bubbles at the centre of all infinity,” who, “gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time”. Azathoth's name may have multiple origins but the most striking is the alchemy term azoth which is both a cohesive agent and a acidic creation pointing back to the generative and the decayed. The indistinction of generation and degradation materially mirrors the blur between the natural and the unnatural as well as life and non-life. Lovecraft speaks of the tension between the natural and the unnatural is his short story “The Unnameable.” He writes, “if the psychic emanations of human creatures be grotesque distortions, what coherent representation could express or portray so gibbous and infamous a nebulousity as the spectre of a malign, chaotic perversion, itself a morbid blasphemy against Nature?”. Lovecraft explores exactly the tension outlined at the beginning of this chapter, between life and thought. At the end of his short tale Lovecraft compounds the problem as the unnameable is described as “a gelatin—a slime—yet it had shapes, a thousand shapes of horror beyond all memory”. Deleuze suggests that becoming-animal is operative throughout Lovecraft's work, where narrators feel themselves reeling at their becoming non-human or of being the anomalous or of becoming atomized. Following Eugene Thacker however, it may be far more accurate to say that Lovecraft's tales exhibit not a becoming-animal but a becoming-creature. Where the monstrous breaks the purportedly fixed laws of nature, the creature is far more ontologically ambiguous. The nameless thing is an altogether different horizon for thought. The creature is either less than animal or more than animal – its becoming is too strange for animal categories and indexes the slow march of thought towards the bizarre. This strangeness is, as aways, some indefinite swirling in the category of immanence and becoming. Bataille begins “The Labyrinth” with the assertion that being, to continue to be, is becoming. More becoming means more being hence the assertion that Bataille's barking dog is more than the sponge. This would mean that the Shoggotth is altogether too much being, too much material in the materialism. Bataille suggests that there is an immanence between the eater and the eaten, across the species and never within them. That is, despite the chaotic storm of immanence there must remain some capacity to distinguish the gradients of becoming without reliance upon, or at least total dependence upon, the powers of intellection to parse the universe into recognizable bits, properly digestible factoids. That is, if we undo Deleuze's aforementioned valorization of sense which, for his variation of materialism, performed the work of the transcendental, but refuse to reinstate Kant's transcendental disjunction between thing and appearance, then it must be a quality of becoming-as-being itself which can account for the discernible nature of things by sense. In an interview with Peter Gratton, Jane Bennett formulates the problem thusly: What is this strange systematicity proper to a world of Becoming? What, for example, initiates this congealing that will undo itself? Is it possible to identify phases within this formativity, plateaus of differentiation? If so, do the phases/plateaus follow a temporal sequence? Or, does the process of formation inside Becoming require us to theorize a non-chronological kind of time? I think that your student’s question: “How can we account for something like iterable structures in an assemblage theory?” is exactly the right question. Philosophy has erred too far on the side of the subject in the subject-object relation and has furthermore, lost the very weirdness of the non-human. Beyond this, the madness of thought need not override. /4/ - Ventriloquial Idealism or the Externality of Thought My aim is the opposite of Lovecraft's. He had an appreciation for natural scenery on earth and wanted to reach beyond the visible in the universe. I have no appreciation for natural scenery and want the objective universe to be a reflection of a character. Thomas Ligotti. “Devotees of Decay and Desolation.” Unless life is a dream, nothing makes sense. For as a reality, it is a rank failure [….] Horror is more real than we are. Thomas Ligotti. “Professor Nobody's Little Lectures on Supernatural Horror”. Thomas Ligotti's tales are rife with mannequins, puppets, and other brainless entities which of replace the valorized subject of philosophy – that of the free thinking human being. His tales such as “The Dream of the Manikin” aim to destroy the rootedness of consciousness. James Trafford has connected the anti-egoism of Ligotti to Thomas Metzinger – where the self is at best an illusion and we plead desperately for someone else to acknowledge that we are real. Trafford has stated it thus, “Life is played out as an inescapable puppet show, an endless dream in which the puppets are generally unaware that they are trapped within a mesmeric dance of whose mechanisms they know nothing and over which they have no control”. An absolute materialism, for Ligotti, implies an alienation of the idea which leads to a ventriloquil idealism. As Ligotti notes in an interview, “the fiasco and nightmare of existence, the particular fiasco and nightmare of human existence, the sense that people are puppets of powers they cannot comprehend, etc.” And then further elaborates that,“[a]ssuming that anything has to exist, my perfect world would be one in which everyone has experienced the annulment of his or her ego. That is, our consciousness of ourselves as unique individuals would entirely disappear”. The externality of the idea leads to the unfortunate consequence of consciousness eating at itself through horror which, for Ligotti, is more real than reality and goes beyond horror-as-affect. Beyond this, taking together with the unreality of life and the ventriloquizing of subjectivity, Ligotti's thought becomes an idealism in which thought itself is alien and ultimately horrifying. The role of human thought and the relation of non-relation of horror to thought is not completely clear in Ligotti's The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. Ligotti argues in his The Conspiracy Against the Human Race,that the advent of thought is a mistake of nature and that horror is being in the sense that horror results from knowing too much. Yet, at the same time, Ligotti seems to suggest that thought separates us from nature whereas, for Lovecraft, thought is far less privileged – mind is just another manifestation of the vital principal, it is just another materialization of energy. In his brilliant “Prospects for Post-Copernican Dogmatism” Iain Grant rallies against the negative definition of dogmatism and the transcendental, and suggests that negatively defining both over-focuses on conditions of access and subjectivism at the expense of the real or nature. With Schelling, who is Grant's champion against the subjectivist bastions of both Fichte and Kant, Ligotti's idealism could be taken as a transcendental realism following from an ontological realism. Yet the transcendental status of Ligotti's thought move towards a treatment of the transcendental which may threaten to leave beyond its realist ground. Ligotti states: Belief in the supernatural is only superstition. That said, a sense of the supernatural, as Conrad evidenced in Heart of Darkness, must be admitted if one's inclination is to go to the limits of horror. It is the sense of what should not be- the sense of being ravaged by the impossible. Phenomenally speaking, the super-natural may be regarded as the metaphysical counterpart of insanity, a transcendental correlative of a mind that has been driven mad. Again, Ligotti equates madness with thought, qualifying both as supernatural while remaining less emphatic about the metaphysical dimensions of horror. The question becomes one of how exactly the hallucinatory realm of the ideal relates to the black churning matter of Lovecraft's chaos of elementary particles. In his tale “I Have a Special Plan for This World” Ligotti formulates thus: A: There is no grand scheme of things. B: If there were a grand scheme of things, the fact – the fact – that we are not equipped to perceive it, either by natural or supernatural means, is a nightmarish obscenity. C: The very notion of a grand scheme of things is a nightmarish obscenity. Here Ligotti is not discounting metaphysics but implying that if it does exist the fact that we are phenomenologically ill-equipped to perceive that it is nightmarish. For Ligotti, nightmare and horror occur within the circuit of consciousness whereas for Lovecraft the relation between reality and mind is less productive on the side of mind. It is easier to ascertain how the Kantian philosophy is a defense against the diseases of the head as Kant armors his critical enterprise from too much of the world and too much of the mind. The weird fiction of both Lovecraft and Ligotti demonstrates that there is too much of both feeding into one another in a way that corrodes the Kantian schema throughly, breaking it down into a dead but still ontologically potentiated nigredo. The haunting, terrifying fact of Ligotti's idealism is that the transcendental motion which brought thought to matter, while throughly material and naturalized, brings with it the horror that thought cannot be undone without ending the material that bears it either locally or completely. Thought comes from an elsewhere and an elsewhen being-in-thought. The unthinkable outside thought is as maddening as the unthought engine of thought itself within thought which doesn't exist except for the mind, the rotting décor of the brain. /5/ - Hyperstitional Transcendental Paranoia or Self -Expelled Thought Weird fiction has been given some direct treatment in philosophy in the mad black Deleuzianism of Nick Land. Nick Land along with others in the 1990s created the Cyber Culture Research Unit as well as the research group Hyperstition. The now defunct hyperstitional website, an outgrowth of the Cyber Culture Research Unit, defined hyperstition in the following fourfold: 1-Element of effective culture that makes itself real. 2-Fictional quantity functional as a time-traveling device. 3-Coincidence intensifier. 4-Call to the Old Ones. The distinctively Lovecraftian character of hyperstition is hard to miss as is its Deleuzo-Guattarian roots. In the opening pages of A Thousand Plateaus Deleuze and Guattari write, “We have been criticized for over-quoting literary authors. But when one writes, the only question is which other machine the literary machine can be plugged into”. The indisinction of literature and philosophy mirrors the mess of being and knowing as post-correlationist philosophy, where philosophy tries to make itself real where literature, especially the weird, aims itself at the brain-circuit of horror. The texts of both Lovecraft and Ligotti work through horror as epistemological plasticity meeting with proximity as well as the deep time of Lovecraft and the glacially slow time of paranoia in Ligotti. Against Deleuze, and following Brassier, we cannot allow the time of consciousness, the Bergsonian time of the duree, to override natural time, but instead acknowledge that it is an unfortunate fact of existence as a thinking being. Horror-time, the time of consciousness, with all its punctuated moments and drawn out terrors, cannot compare to the deep time of non-existence both in the unreachable past and the unknown future. The crystalline cogs of Kant's account of experience as the leading light for the possibility of metaphysics must be throughly obliterated. His gloss of experience in Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysics could not be more sterile: Experience consists of intuitions, which belong to the sensibility, and of judgments, which are entirely a work of the understanding. But the judgments which the understanding makes entirely out of sensuous intuitions are far from being judgments of experience. For in the one case the judgment connects only the perceptions as they are given in sensuous intuition [....] Experience consists in the synthetic connection of appearances in consciousness, so far as this connection is necessary. Here it is difficult to dismiss the queasiness that Kant's legalism induces upon sight for both Badiou and David-Menard. Kant's thought becomes, as Foucault says when reflecting on Sade's text in relation to nature, “the savage abolition of itself”. For Badiou, Kant's philosophy simply closes off too much of the outside, freezing the world of thought in an all too limited formalism. Critical philosophy is simply the systematized quarantine on future thinking, on thinking which would threaten the formalism which artificially grants thought its own coherency in the face of madness. Even the becoming-mad of Deleuze, while escaping the rumbling ground, makes grounds for itself, mad grounds but grounds which are thinkable in their affect. The field of effects allows for Deleuze's aesthetic and radical empiricism, in which effects and/or occasions make up the material of the world to be thought as a chaosmosis of simulacra. Given a critique of an empiricism of aesthetics, of the image, it may be difficult to justify an attack on Kantian formalism with the madness of literature, which does not aim to make itself real but which we may attempt to make real. That is, how do Lovecraft's and Ligotti's materials, as materials for philosophy to work on, differ from either the operative formalisms of Kant or the implicitly formalized images of Deleuzian empiricism? It is simply that such texts do not aim to make themselves real, and make claims to the real which are more alien to us than familiar, which is why their horror is immediately more trustworthy. This is the madness which Blanchot discusses in The Infinite Conversation through Cervantes and his knight – the madness of book-life, of the perverse unity of literature and life a discussion which culminates in the discussion of one of the weird's masters, that of Kafka. The text is the knowing of madness, since madness, in its moment of becoming-more-mad, cannot be frozen in place but by the solidifications of externalizing production. This is why Foucault ends his famous study with works of art. Furthermore extilligence, the ability to export the products of our maligned brains, is the companion of the attempts to export, or discover the possibility of intelligences outside of our heads, in order for philosophy to survive the solar catastrophe. To borrow again from Deleuze, writing is inseparable from becoming. The mistake is to believe that madness is reabsorbed by extilligence, by great works, or that it could be exorcised by the expelling of thought into the inorganic or differently organic. Going out of our heads does not guarantee we will no longer mean we cannot still go out of our minds. This is simply because of the outside, of matter, or force, or energy, or thing-in-itself, or Schopenhauerian Will. In Lovecraft’s “The Music of Erich Zahn” an “impoverished student of metaphysics” becomes intrigued by strange viol music coming from above his room. After meeting the musician the student discovers that each night he plays frantic music at a window in order to keep some horridness at bay, some “impenetrable darkness with chaos and pandemonium”. The aesthetic defenses provided by the well trained brain can bear the hex of matter for so long, the specter of unalterability within it which too many minds obliterate, collapsing everything before the thought of thought as thinkable or at least noetically mutable on our own terms. Transcendental paranoia is the concurrent nightmare and promise of Paul Humphrey's work, of being literally out of our minds. It is the gothic counterpart of thinking non-conceptually but also of thinking never belonging to any instance of purportedly solid being. As Bataille stated, “At the boundary of that which escapes cohesion, he who reflects within cohesion realizes there is no longer any room for him” Thought is immaterial only to the degree that it is inhuman, it is a power that tries, always with failure, to ascertain its own genesis. Philosophy, if it can truly return to the great outdoors, if it can leave behind the dead loop of the human skull, must recognize not only the non-priority of human thought, but that thought never belongs to the brain that thinks it, thought comes from somewhere else. To return to the train image from the beginning “a locomotive rolling on the surface of the earth is the image of continuous metamorphosis” this is the problem of thought, and of thinking thought, of being no longer able to isolate thought, with only a thought-formed structure. [1] One of the central tenets of Francois Laruelle's non-philosophy is that philosophy has traditionally operated on material already presupposed as thinkable instead of trying to think the real in itself. Philosophy, according to Laruelle, remains fixated on transcendental synthesis which shatters immanence into an empirical datum and an a prori factum which are then fused by a third thing such as the ego. For a critical account of Laruelle's non-philosophy see Ray Brassier's Nihil Unbound. (shrink)

Between the end of the nineteenth century and the first twenty years of the twentieth century, stimulated by the impetuous development of logical studies and taking inspiration from Leibniz's idea of a characteristica universalis, the three founding fathers of the analytic tradition in philosophy, i.e., Frege, Russell, and Wittgenstein, started to talk of a logically perfect language, as opposed to natural languages, all feeling that the latter were inadequate to their (different) philosophical purposes. In the second half of the twentieth (...) century, however, the very idea of a logically perfect language ceased for various reasons to seem attractive to analytic philosophers. Thus, it might appear that this idea could be classified together with the many other bizarre ideas that from time to time surface in the history of philosophy-an idea that perhaps had a beneficial impact on the development of twentieth century logic, but which can now be put to rest. In this brief note, I contend that this conclusion may be too hasty. Indeed, if a well-known empirical hypothesis advanced in 1975 by Jerry Fodor turns out to be true, then there is a logically perfect language, after all. More precisely, I argue that, if it exists, Fodor's language of thought possesses the main characteristics a logically perfect language is required to have. (shrink)

Classic perfect being theologians take ‘being perfect’ to be conceptually necessary and sufficient for being God. I argue that this claim is false because being perfect is not conceptually necessary for being God. I rest my case on a simple thought experiment inspired by an alternative I developed to perfect being theology that I call “functional theology.” My findings, if correct, are a boon for theists since if it should turn out that there is no perfect being, there could still (...) be a God. (shrink)

It is often thought that traditional recidivism prediction tools used in criminal sentencing, though biased in many ways, can straightforwardly avoid one particularly pernicious type of bias: direct racial discrimination. They can avoid this by excluding race from the list of variables employed to predict recidivism. A similar approach could be taken to the design of newer, machine learning-based (ML) tools for predicting recidivism: information about race could be withheld from the ML tool during its training phase, ensuring that the (...) resulting predictive model does not use race as an explicit predictor. However, if race is correlated with measured recidivism in the training data, the ML tool may ‘learn’ a perfect proxy for race. If such a proxy is found, the exclusion of race would do nothing to weaken the correlation between risk (mis)classifications and race. Is this a problem? We argue that, on some explanations of the wrongness of discrimination, it is. On these explanations, the use of an ML tool that perfectly proxies race would (likely) be more wrong than the use of a traditional tool that imperfectly proxies race. Indeed, on some views, use of a perfect proxy for race is plausibly as wrong as explicit racial profiling. We end by drawing out four implications of our arguments. (shrink)

In this paper, I ask whether there is a defensible philosophical view according to which everybody is beautiful. I review two purely aesthetical versions of this claim. The No Standards View claims that everybody is maximally and equally beautiful. The Multiple Standards View encourages us to widen our standards of beauty. I argue that both approaches are problematic. The former fails to be aspirational and empowering, while the latter fails to be sufficiently inclusive. I conclude by presenting a hybrid ethical–aesthetical (...) view according to which everybody is beautiful in the sense that everybody can be perceived through a loving gaze. I show that this view is inclusive, aspirational and empowering, and authentically aesthetical. (shrink)

This paper attacks an account of Kant's controversial distinction between "free" and "dependent" beauty. I present three problems—The Lorland problem, The Crawford Problem, and the problem of intrinsic relation—that are shown to be a consequence of various interpretations of Kant's distinction. Next, I reconstruct Robert Wicks' well-known account of dependent beauty as "the appreciation of teleological style" and point out a key equivocation in the statement of Wicks' account: the judgment of dependent beauty can be thought to consist in comparing (...) any two objects' teleological styles either in respect of how or in respect of how well each realizes a common purpose. I argue that this equivocation forces Wicks into a dilemma: either he must assert the impossibility of ugliness or he must assert that the judgment of dependent beauty is reducible to the judgment of perfection. Either way, he denies important theoretic desiderata. (shrink)

Thought (νοῦς) for Aristotle is ‘that whereby the soul thinks and judges.’ This identity, however, ‘is not actually any real thing before thinking’ (ἐνεργείᾳ τῶν ὄντων πρὶν νοεῖν) and, thus, cannot reasonably be regarded as blended with the body and cannot acquire any quality or have any organ. (So., Γ, 4, 429a22-27) In fact, Aristotle defines thought more with a capability: ‘That which is capable of receiving the object of thought, i.e. the substance, is thought.’ (Met., Λ, 1072b22-23) Thought is (...) not blended with and, thus, is separable from body. (So., Γ, 4, 429b4-5) This separability, however, belongs only to the active thought. (So., Γ, 5, 430a17-19) A. Nature of thought ‘Since everything is a possible object of thought,’ Aristotle believes, as Anaxagoras believed before him, in order to know things, mind ‘must be pure from all admixtures.’ The reason for this being that ‘the co-presence of what is alien to its nature is a hindrance and a block.’ Therefore, thought ‘can have no nature of its own other than that of having a certain capacity.’ (So., Γ, 4, 429a18-22) B. Thought elements A thought element, i.e. an element/object in thought or a concept (νόημα) has the following features: 1. Every thought element or concept (νόημα) is single (ἓν). This singularity is not restricted to substances because the concept of any other thing is single as well. (Met., A, 990b22-27) 2. Concepts (νόηματα) of thought are either simple or complex. Simple concepts do not involve truth or falsity but complex ones do. Aristotle speaks of ‘thoughts without co-positing and positing away’ (ἄνευ συνθέσεως καὶ διαίρέσεως νοήματι) to which nouns and verbs are similar. (OI., I, 1, 16a13-14) In OI., I, 1, 16a9-11 Aristotle does not use the words simple or complex but his assertion implies them: ‘As there are in the mind thoughts (νόημα) which do not involve truth or falsity, and also those which must be either true or false, so it is in speech.’ 3. The copula-is has no corresponding concept in thought: ‘For neither are ‘to be’ and ‘not to be’ the participle ‘being’ significant of any fact, unless something is added; for they do not themselves indicate anything, but imply a copulation, of which we cannot form a conception apart from the things coupled.’ (OI., I, 3, 16b22-25) C. Thought and its objects To understand Aristotle’s theory of thought, we have two differentiations, one between objects of thought and one in thought itself. Everything that might be posited in front of our thought and be thought as a possible object of thought we call object I (to distinguish it from what we call object II). Therefore, everything in the world is an object I of thought. These objects are in the sensible forms, viz. both the abstract objects and all the states and affections of sensible things. (So., Γ, 8, 432a3-6) These objects might be either composite, containing matter and form, or simple and matterless. When they are thought, we will have them in thought but not necessarily as they are in the world, i.e. as object I, but as something else, which we call object II. This is supposed to make the difference between object I and object II clear: object I is in the world and object II is its corresponding object in our thought. These two kinds of objects are neither necessarily the same nor necessarily different. Objects I are of two kinds: matterful and matterless. Whereas a matterful object I is necessarily different from its corresponding object II (So., Γ, 4, 430a6-9), a matterless object I is not different from its corresponding object II. (So., Γ, 4, 430a2-5; Met., Λ, 1075a3-4) Object II must thus be understood as the form of object I: ‘The thinking part of the soul must therefore be, while impassible, capable of receiving the form of an object; that is, must be potentially identical in character with its object without being the object.’ (So., Γ, 4, 429a13-16) Thought has no nature by its own and is all potentiality before thinking. (cf. So., Γ, 4, 429b6-10) Let’s call this the first potentiality of thought. This potentiality is the potentiality of a tabula rasa: ‘Thought is in a sense potentially whatever is thinkable, though actually it is nothing until it has thought? What it thinks must be in it just as characters may be said to be on a writing-table on which as yet nothing actually stands written: this is exactly what happens with thought.’ (So., Γ, 4, 429b29-430a2) Thought is then all dependent on its objects. By thinking on objects I, objects II are formed in thought. Now thought is nothing but its objects II which are necessarily matterless objects (Met., Λ, 1075a5-7): ‘In every case the thought which is actively thinking is the objects which it thinks.’ (So., Γ, 7, 431b16-17) Thought is the same as its objects II and in the case of matterless objects I, it is the same as its objects I. (Met., Λ, 1075a3-5) This thought is actual compared to its first potentiality: while it was all potentiality in its first potentiality, it now contains some objects II and is then actual. It seems we must interpret Aristotle based on this sense of actuality when he calls a thought possessing object as active: ‘For that which is capable of receiving the objects of thought, i.e. the substance, is thought. And it is active when it possesses this object.’ (Met., Λ, 1072b22-23) This thought, however, is called passive thought due to a second potentiality: ‘When thought has become each thing in the way in which a man who actually knows is said to do so (this happens when he is now able to exercise the power on his own initiatives). Its condition is still one of potentiality, but in a different sense from the potentiality which preceded the acquisition of knowledge by learning or discovery; and thought is then able to think of itself.’ (So., Γ, 4, 429b6-10) It is this thought in its second potentiality that Aristotle calls passive thought distinguishing it from active thought: ‘And in fact thought … is what it is by virtue of becoming all things, while there is another which what it is by virtue of making all things: this is a sort of positive state like light; for in a sense light makes potential colors into actual colors.’ (So., Γ, 5, 530a14-17) These two thoughts have a relationship like the relationship between matter and productive cause: ‘Since in every class of things, as in nature as a whole, we find two factors involved, a matter which is potentially all the particulars included in the class, a cause which is productive in the sense that it makes them all (the latter standing to the former, as e.g. an art to its material), these elements must likewise be found within the soul.’ (So., Γ, 5, 430a10-14) To understand Aristotle’s sense of active thought we must consider his theory of thinking. 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“Christianity is a μίμησις of the divine nature.” This definition of what it means to be a Christian, given by St Gregory of Nyssa in his letter De pro- fessione Christiana, employs a term commonly translated as “imitation” or “representation.” Even a brief study of some of the seminal sources of classical Greek thought, however, will show that the concept of mimesis surpasses any of these translations and effortlessly crosses the boundaries of the sphere of aesthetics, towards the fundamental questions (...) of epistemology, metaphysics, ontology, and ethics. An analysis of Gregory’s letter, together with the related treatise De perfectione, will then show his nuanced familiarity with the subtleties of mimesis, which he consciously employs to arrive at his definition of Christianity. With this in hand, I will argue that even some of Gregory’s most perplexing scriptural exegesis in his homilies on the Song of Songs grows out of his coherent concept of mimesis, which ultimately is of fundamental importance to Gregory’s anthropology, cosmology, and Christology. (shrink)

Over the course of the twentieth century, the notion of the systematicity of thought has acquired a much narrower meaning than it used to carry for much of its history. The so-called “systematicity debate” that has dominated the philosophy of language, cognitive science, and AI research over the last thirty years understands the systematicity of thought in terms of the compositionality of thought. But there is an older, broader, and more demanding notion of systematicity that is now increasingly relevant again. (...) To recover this notion from under the shadow of the systematicity debate, I distinguish between (i) the systematicity of thinkable contents, (ii) the systematicity of thinking, and (iii) the ideal of systematic thought. I then deploy this distinction to critically evaluate Fodor’s systematicity-based argument for the language of thought hypothesis before recovering the notion of the systematicity of thought as a regulative ideal, which has historically shaped our understanding of what it means for thought to be rational, authoritative, and scientific. To assess how much systematicity we need from AI models, I argue that we must look to the rationales for systematizing thought. To this end, I recover five such rationales from the history of philosophy and identify five functions served by systematization. Finally, I show how these can be used to arrive at a dynamic understanding of the need to systematize thought that can tell us what kind of systematicity is called for and when. (shrink)

This essay conducts a diachronic examination of the thought of W.E.B. Du Bois. In so doing, it reveals a corpus that is marked by a tradition of thinking rarely acknowledged by scholars today: Black nationalism. Du Bois’s early focus on the relationship between racism and imperialism and ideological conflicts with Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey laid the basis for his intellectual maturation around the concept of self-determination. After synthesizing the insights of his former ideological rivals, this essay will show (...) that Du Bois affected a revolution in Black nationalist (and human) thought by making the common humanity and autonomy of African/African-descended peoples (and all colonized people) thinkable through the ideology of Pan-Africanism: a truly universal idea of freedom which was antagonistic to Westernism (Liberal Capitalist and Marxist thought). (shrink)

Neither Aristotle nor Aquinas assumes the reality of the evolution of species. Their systems of thought, however, remain open to the new data, offering an essential contribution to the ongoing debate between scientific, philosophical, and theological aspects of the theory of evolution. After discussing some key issues of substance metaphysics in its encounter with the theory of evolution (hylomorphism, transformism of species, teleology, chance, the principle of proportionate causation), I present a Thomistic response to its major hypotheses. Concerning the philosophy (...) of Aquinas, I trace what might be seen as a preliminary description of natural selection in his commentary on Aristotle's Physics. Turning toward theology, besides addressing the topics that were referred to in the past—such as: Aquinas’ reading of Genesis, his account of creation as dependence in being, secondary and instrumental causality, and univocal/equivocal predication of God—I bring into discussion Thomas’ concept of the perfection of the universe, which has been virtually unused in this context. (shrink)

This book has been written for eighteen year olds (or anyone who will listen) as an honest attempt to face their justified questionings and to offer them a metaphysical framework with which to confront the twenty-first century. It is vitally important that certain modes of thought are uprooted and new modes put in their place if mankind and planet Earth are not soon to suffer an historic global catastrophe. Apart from the continuing world-wide proliferation of conventional, chemical, biological and nuclear (...) weaponry, the temperature of the planet has risen more rapidly in the last twenty-five years than it has since the year 900AD, which confirms global warming by some cause or other. These and the many intensifying human conflicts and natural disasters demand that some fundamental changes to our thinking are made as soon as possible. These 120 pages begin with an original examination of the quantum-theoretical understanding of reason (logic) and reality (existence) and find both to be at odds with common sense. A theory of everything is a reduction to a single grand idea! A quantum theory of everything is a mathematical theory of a consciousness realizing this grand idea! That is what this book tries to comprehend by means of five indisputable propositions. (shrink)

The theme of essential futility, absurdity, utter incomprehensibility of life and death is stressed in almost allthe writings of Albert Camus. Like Buddha he was shocked by the sight of human misery and mortality. Yet, paradoxically was attracted to the essential desirability of it. Although completely ruffled by the consciousness of an ambiguous and silent God, he was not unaware of “that strange joy that comes from a tranquil conscience”, a perfect inner harmony one experiences on attaining true knowledge. Upanishads (...) are a search for this very reality underlying the flux of things. Malraux, Sartre, and others had already developed this line of thought before Camus. What is essential and original in him is, firstly, that the world’s absurdity not a cause for despair, but on the contrary, a spur to happiness. And secondly, that , mortality and suffering actually enhance the value of life: they invite men to live more intensely. In addition to absurdity another subject the Upanishads insistently deal with is ethics, the purity of human conduct. Very much in the manner of the Existentialists, the Upanishads, aeons before, hold man himself responsible for his actions. Dr. Radhakrishnan, very aptly says that Existentialism is a new name for an ancient method. In Albert Camus and India Sharad Chandra has put forward a convincing comparative study of the two philosophies as expounded in their respective literatures. Her argument is that the parallel ideas found in the two views are not mere fortuitous conclusions but, either the result of seminal influence, or emanation of a common, deeper vision. Reading of the book will help the reader to form a firm opinion. Camus had read the Gita and had attended the lectures given by Swami Shraddhananda of the Ramakrishna Mission in Paris. (shrink)

Today, philosophers interested in self-knowledge usually look to the scholastic tradition, where the topic is addressed in a systematic and familiar way. Contemporary conceptions of what medieval figures thought about self-knowledge thus skew toward the epistemological. In so doing, however, they often fail to capture the crucial ethical and theological importance that self-knowledge possesses throughout the Middle Ages. -/- Human beings are not transparent to themselves: in particular, knowing oneself in the way needed for moral progress requires hard and rigorous (...) work. Yet, medieval contemplatives insist, without this work we will never attain our final end. In this paper, I trace the connection drawn in this tradition between self-knowledge, humility, and self-fulfillment, arguing in section 1 that the humility that results from introspection needs to be understood in the context of contemplative expectations for eventual perfection. Self-knowledge is key for developing the relationship with God that leads to mystical union, but (as I show in section 2) in the affective tradition of the 13th-14th centuries, which emphasizes the role of emotion and the body, such union with God tends to restore rather than annihilate us. In fact, I argue in section 3, the outcome of such union even in this life is often knowledge that benefits not only the individual who experiences it but also their broader community. (shrink)

Joshua Glasgow argues against the existence of races. His experimental philosophy asks subjects questions involving racial categorization to discover the ordinary concept of race at work in their judgments. The results show conflicting information about the concept of race, and Glasgow concludes that the ordinary concept of race is inconsistent. I conclude, rather, that Glasgow’s results fit perfectly fine with a social-kind view of races as real social entities. He also presents thought experiments to show that social-kind views give (...) the wrong results, but intuitions might differ on which results are the wrong ones, and social-kind views can resist the implications he derives from these cases. Widespread false beliefs about a concept or category need not undermine anything’s existence, and a sufficiently context-sensitive approach to races will allow for competing criteria for race-membership in different contexts without contradictory criteria in any one context. Glasgow’s arguments are therefore unsuccessful. (shrink)

When this article was first planned, writing was going to be exclusively about two things - the origin of life and human evolution. But it turned out to be out of the question for the author to restrict himself to these biological and anthropological topics. A proper understanding of them required answering questions like “What is the nature of the universe – the home of life – and how did it originate?”, “How can time travel be removed from fantasy and (...) science fiction, to be made scientific and practical?”, and “How can the proposed young age of genus Homo be made to actually be reasonable – when simply stating it would be solid ground for instant rejection and dismissal?” The result is that the article also talks about subjects like Artificial Intelligence, General Relativity, and cosmology. -/- From where did life originate? God? Evolution? Panspermia? If the tendency of humans and scientists to regard undiscovered science as pseudoscience can be overcome, Einstein gave another alternative to consider when he introduced General Relativity. Time isn’t linear – progressing in a straight line from past to present to future. That assumption ignores Relativity which states that space AND TIME are curved. Where did life and the genetic code come from? Can the answer build AI? -/- The first question can be answered by the section of this article titled SETI, Evolution, and Time which says life (possibly multicellular and intelligent) and the genetic code came from humans acquiring knowledge of these things over the centuries, then applying that knowledge – via terraforming, accumulation of raw materials like amino acids and nucleic acids, genetic engineering - to a time in the past when life didn’t exist. From that origin, life evolved through innumerable mutations and adaptations, with humans once again acquiring knowledge of it in cyclic (nonlinear) time. -/- The second question is answered by saying artificial intelligence (AI) as the product of life is only half of the equation. The other half refers to Relativity’s curved space-time and violation of the notion that time always travels from past to future. We have always lived in an artificially intelligent, non-probabilistic universe where everything in time and space is connected into one thing by quantum entanglement – making the brain and genes products of binary-digit activity or artificial intelligence (life is not merely dependent on biology’s “lock and key” mechanisms but also possesses AI). -/- The earliest documented representative of the genus Homo is Homo habilis, which evolved around 2.8 million years ago. Scientists used to believe there was a straight line from H. habilis to us, Homo sapiens. This article will use the “advanced” waves loved by Physics Nobel laureate Richard Feynman, view the history of science through the lens of Conic Sections applied to Relativity’s curved space-time, and incorporate the necessity of so-called imaginary time * – popularized by Prof. Stephen Hawking. While the evolutionary proposals are more in agreement with this early straight line than with modern theories, Albert Einstein’s General Relativity is used to transform the straight line into a curved line, ultimately concluding that Homo habilis (H. habilis) originated only (and unbelievably, as far as today’s science and technology is concerned) ~250,000 years ago. Other branches and dead ends of Homo – e.g. Neanderthals – are the result of mutations and adaptations, with the resultant modifications to anatomy and physiology. The surprisingly young age of H. habilis allows nearly 200,000 years for habilis, or one of its descendants, to reach Australia … if this country’s indigenous Aboriginal population did, as claimed, reach this “island continent” 60,000 years ago. -/- * The ultraviolet catastrophe, also called the Rayleigh–Jeans catastrophe, is a failure of classical physics to predict observed phenomena: it can be shown that a blackbody - a hypothetical perfect absorber and radiator of energy - would release an infinite amount of energy, contradicting the principles of conservation of energy and indicating that a new model for the behaviour of blackbodies was needed. At the start of the 20th century, physicist Max Planck derived the correct solution by making some strange (for the time) assumptions. In particular, Planck assumed that electromagnetic radiation can only be emitted or absorbed in discrete packets, called quanta. Albert Einstein postulated that Planck's quanta were real physical particles (what we now call photons), not just a mathematical fiction. From there, Einstein developed his explanation of the photoelectric effect (when quanta or photons of light shine on certain metals, electrons are released and can form an electric current). So it appears entirely possible that another supposed mathematical trickery (imaginary time and the y-axis of Wick rotation) will find practical application in the future. -/- The article includes mathematical references to cosmology (spoiler alert – you’ll read about things like Vector-Tensor-Scalar Geometry, topology, the “eternal present”, Einstein’s Unified Field, the inverse-square law, and there being no Big Bang and no multiverse - but there will also be no equations). -/- The other subheadings in this essay are – -/- NONLINEAR TIME AND ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING (about a 2009 electrical engineering experiment at America’s Yale University, and cosmic wormholes) -/- BITS AND TOPOLOGY (base-2 maths aka Binary digiTS, Mobius strips, and figure-8 Klein bottles) -/- WICK ROTATION, CAUSALITY, AND UNITING TIME (do past, present and future co-exist in an “eternal present”?) -/- DIGITAL BRAIN, DIGITAL UNIVERSE (if the brain and the universe are ultimately composed of binary digits, we'll someday be able to do the same things with the brain and universe that we now do with computers) -/- PROPOSAL: HUMAN AND ANIMAL INSTINCTS ARE THE RESULT OF THE UNIVERSE BEING UNIFIED BY BINARY DIGITS (AND TOPOLOGY) (If everything in the universe is ultimately composed of electronic BITS, then the universe must possess Artificial Intelligence - some prefer the term Cosmic Consciousness) -/- INFORMATION THEORY CONQUERS A RED GIANT (preserving Earth by keeping the Sun near today’s level of activity forever). 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In essence, epistemology is a combination of thinking rationally and thinking empirically. This way of thinking is combined in the study of natural phenomena to discover the truth, the mind and the senses. Therefore, epistemology is an attempt to interpret and prove the belief that we know another fact, other than ourselves. The purpose of this research is to discover the workings and concepts of epistemology of science according to Al-Ghazali? And how the acquisition of knowledge and truth through Laduni (...) science. The results showed that Al-Ghazali thought that Laduni science came from God directly into the human soul, the perfect soul of a clean and ready soul to muwajahah with God, that is where the science of God will be radiated. There are several methods to acquire laduni science. First, through the search of all the science and the most perfect part of a large number of available. Second, through the method of riyadhah and muraqabah. Third, through the method of reflection (tafakur). Fourth, through the method of inspiration. Fifth, through the tazkiyat an-Nafs method, the purification of the human soul through takhalli and tahalli stages. Sixth, through the method of zikr. (shrink)

What is the relation of logic to thinking? My dissertation offers a new argument for the claim that logic is constitutive of thinking in the following sense: representational activity counts as thinking only if it manifests sensitivity to logical rules. In short, thinking has to be minimally logical. An account of thinking has to allow for our freedom to question or revise our commitments – even seemingly obvious conceptual connections – without loss of understanding. This freedom, I argue, requires that (...) thinkers have general abilities to respond to support and tension among their thoughts. And these abilities are constituted by following logical rules. So thinkers have to follow logical rules. But there isn’t just one correct logic for thinking. I show that my view is consistent with logical pluralism: there are a range of correct logics, any one of which a thinker might follow. A logic for thinking does, however, have to contain certain minimal principles: Modus Ponens and Non-Contradiction, and perhaps others. We follow logical rules by exercising logical capacities, which display a distinctive first-person/third-person asymmetry: a subject can find the instances of a rule compelling without seeing them as instances of a rule. As a result, there are two limits on illogical thinking. First, thinkers have to tend to find instances of logical rules compelling. Second, thinkers can’t think in obviously illogical ways. So thinking has to be logical – but not perfectly so. When we try to think, but fail, we produce nonsense. But our failures to think are often subjectively indistinguishable from thinking. To explain how this occurs, I offer an account of nonsense. To be under the illusion that some nonsense makes sense is to enter a pretence that the nonsense is meaningful. Our use of nonsense within the pretence relies on the role of logical form in understanding. Finally, while the normativity of logic doesn’t fall directly out of logical constitutivism, it’s possible to build an attractive account of logical normativity which has logical constitutivism as an integral part. I argue that thinking is necessary for human flourishing, and that this is the source of logical normativity. (shrink)

In order to make sense of Scotus’s claim that rationality is perfected only by the will, a Scotistic doctrine of truth is developed in a speculative way. It is claimed that synthetic a priori truths are truths of the will, which are existential truths. This insight holds profound theological implications and is used on the one hand to criticize Kant's conception of existence, and on the other hand, to offer another explanation of the sense according to which the existence of (...) things is grasped. (shrink)

In this paper I present an account of Wittgenstein’s ethics that follows from a so-called ‘metaphysical’ reading of the Tractatus. I argue Wittgenstein forwards two distinct theses. Negatively he claims that there can be no ethical propositions. Positively he claims that the ethical good, or good in-itself, is the rewarding happy life. The happy life involves living in perfect contented harmony with the world, however it is, because how the world is, is a manifestation of God’s will. Given the negative (...) thesis, the positive thesis cannot strictly speaking even be said. We can only make sense of this by assuming that Wittgenstein takes this positive thesis to be ‘illuminating nonsense’. (shrink)

Conceptual engineering is the process of assessing and improving our conceptual repertoire. Some authors have claimed that introducing or revising concepts through conceptual engineering can go as far as expanding the realm of thinkable thoughts and thus enable us to form beliefs, hypotheses, wishes, or desires that we are currently unable to form. If true, this would allow conceptual engineers to contribute to solving stubborn problems – problems that cannot be solved with our current ways of thinking. We (...) call this kind of conceptual engineering heavy-duty conceptual engineering. As exciting as the idea of heavy-duty conceptual engineering sounds, it has never been developed or defended. In this paper, we pursue a two-fold goal. First, to offer a theory of heavy-duty conceptual engineering that distinguishes it from other kinds of conceptual engineering; second, to show that heavy-duty conceptual engineering is possible, both in theory and in practice, and to explain how it can be applied in the service of solving stubborn problems. The central idea is that heavy-duty conceptual engineering can enhance the semantic expressive power of a conceptual system by the use of bootstrapping processes. (shrink)

Great man of culture, history and science Dmitry Cantemir, the prince of Moldavia was also a grate apologist of the Romanian religious traditions. In our study we try to underline this aspect from his writings, especially from his work Descriptio Moldavie. Therefore, we had followed the apologetics ideas from his most important works, like: Divanul, Loca Obscura, Descriptio Moldaviae, Metafizica and also from his Logica. In this context, the cultural and theological contribution of the great Moldavian scholar is very important (...) from the orthodox theology. In the actual context, Dmitry Cantemir shows the perfect example in the accomplishment and conservation of the Romanian authentic spirit over the centuries. (shrink)

This article explores the essence of the human (insān) as it is understood in Twelver Shīʿī philosophy and mysticism. It presents a Shīʿī philosophical elucidation regarding the possible existence of extraterrestrial intelligent lifeforms and what their relationship with “humanhood” might be. This line of reasoning is presented with a general sketch of how, in Shīʿī Islamic thought, a “human being” is characterized by specific traits and the relationship of human beings with the archetype of the Perfect Human (al‐Insān al‐Kāmil). Following (...) this is a review of Shīʿī Imāmī traditions regarding extraterrestrial intelligent life and the plurality of worlds. This sequence ultimately allows for a unique analysis of humanhood according to the Shīʿī philosophical viewpoint and helps determine if the term “human” can be used for other intelligent beings with similar ontological features and intelligence levels. (shrink)

Forgiveness is clearly an important aspect of our moral lives, yet surprisingly Kant, one of the most important authors in the history of Western ethics, seems to have very little to say about it. Some authors explain this omission by noting that forgiveness sits uncomfortably in Kant’s moral thought: forgiveness seems to have an ineluctably ‘elective’ aspect which makes it to a certain extent arbitrary; thus it stands in tension with Kant’s claim that agents are autonomous beings, capable of determining (...) their own moral status through rational reflection and choice. Other authors recognise that forgiveness plays a role in Kant’s philosophy but fail to appreciate the nature of this duty and misrepresent the Kantian argument in support of it. This paper argues that there is space in Kant’s philosophy for a genuine theory of forgiveness and hopes to lay the grounds for a correct interpretation of this theory. I argue that from a Kantian perspective, forgiveness is not ‘elective’ but, at least in some cases, morally required. I claim that, for Kant, we have an imperfect duty of virtue to forgive repentant wrongdoers that have embarked on a project of self-reflection and self-reform. I develop a novel argument in support of this duty by drawing on Kant’s theory of rational agency, the thesis of radical evil, Kant’s theory of moral development, and the formula of humanity. However, it must be noted that this is a conditional duty and Kant’s position also entails that absence of repentance on the part of the wrongdoer should be taken as evidence of a lack of commitment to a project of self-reflection and self-reform. In such cases, Kant claims, we have a perfect duty to ourselves not to forgive unrepentant wrongdoers. I argue that this duty should be understood as one of the duties of self-esteem, which involves the duty to respect and recognise our own dignity as rational beings. (shrink)

Epictetus' thought is defined by an antithesis of mine and not-mine, which is an antithesis of externals and self. From this arise a number of questions for Epictetus‘ theology, which are addressed in this paper: How is the self delimited from God, given that God is all-pervading? Is God inside or outside the self? In which way is God the cause, creator and shaper of the self? And how does human agency and self-shaping through prohairesis spell out within this determinst (...) framework? If, as will become apparent in the discussion of the previous questions, the shape and activities of human selves originate from God and should be perfectly aligned with God, in which sense is there still a separate, individual human self? (shrink)

Ignorance is often a perfectly good excuse. There are interesting debates about whether non-culpable factual ignorance and mistake subvert obligation, but little disagreement about whether non-culpable factual ignorance and mistake exculpate. What about agents who have all the relevant facts in view but fail to meet their obligations because they do not have the right moral beliefs? If their ignorance of their obligations derives from mistaken moral beliefs or from ignorance of the moral significance of the facts they have (...) in view, should they be excused for failing to meet their moral obligations? It is not obvious that they should. In this paper we argue that the best non-skeptical accounts of moral responsibility acknowledge that factual ignorance and mistake will diminish moral responsibility in a way that moral ignorance and mistake will not. That is because factual ignorance is often non-culpable so long as it meets certain merely procedural epistemic standards but the same is not true of moral ignorance. Our argument is that the assumption that it is gets the standards of culpability for moral ignorance wrong, and that the mistake is encouraged by the thought that culpability in general requires an instance of known wrongdoing: that acting wrongly requires de dicto unresponsiveness to one’s obligations at some stage. We deny this and conclude that, therefore, ignorance and mistaken belief are indeed often perfectly good excuses – but far less often than some philosophers claim. (shrink)

Several passages in documents that have authority for religious believers, such as the Bible, suggest that God sometimes repents. Few philosophers and theologians, however, have embraced the thought that God repents. The primary reason for rejecting this idea seems to be that repenting conflicts with being perfectly good and being omniscient, properties that are characteristically ascribed to God. I suggest that the issue can well be approached in terms of a paradox: it seems simultaneously (i) that God repents (this (...) is what the Bible suggest), (ii) that God is omnibenevolent, and (iii) that he is omniscient. I show that these three theses, on a traditional understanding of the divine attributes of omnibenevolence and omniscience, lead to a contradiction. I critically discuss two attempts to dissolve this paradox: open theism and Geachianism. Next, I propose a different approach: even though God has full knowledge of the future free actions of his creatures, he does not have full knowledge of all his own future free actions. I show how on this alternative line of thought, God can simultaneously be said to be omniscient, perfectly good, and a God who sometimes repents. Finally, I defend this account of divine repentance against several objections and show what some of the implications are. (shrink)

Moore and Russell thought that perceptual knowledge of the external world is based on abductive inference from information about our experience. Sosa maintains that this ‘indirect realist’ strategy has no prospects of working. Vogel disagrees and thinks it can and does work perfectly well, and his reasoning (and variations on that reasoning) seem initially promising, moreso than other approaches. My aim, however, will be to adjudicate this dispute in favor of Sosa’s pessimistic answer, and in doing so, to better (...) uncover the important role abductive inference does have in a wider theory of perceptual knowledge, even if it doesn’t feature in any promising vindication of (anti-skeptical) indirect realism. (shrink)

This chapter considers Kant's relation to Hume as Kant himself understood it when he wrote the Critique of Pure Reason and the Prolegomena. It first seeks to refine the question of Kant's relation to Hume's skepticism, and it then considers the evidence for Kant's attitude toward Hume in three works: the A Critique, Prolegomena, and B Critique. It argues that in the A Critique Kant viewed skepticism positively, as a necessary reaction to dogmatism and a spur toward critique. In his (...) initial statement of the critical philosophy Kant treated Hume as an ally in curbing dogmatism, but one who stopped short of what was really needed: a full critique of reason, to establish the boundaries of metaphysical cognition. Kant found fault with Hume's analyses of cognition and experience, and specifically his failure to see the crucial importance of synthetic a priori cognition in metaphysics. In particular, he held that Hume's empiricist account of cognition could neither explain the synthetic a priori cognition actually found in mathematics and natural science, nor provide a principled account of the limits on what can be known--and what can be thought--through the pure concepts of the understanding. According to Kant, Hume therefore failed in his attempt to determine the limits of metaphysics, whereas he was able to succeed because his transcendental philosophy provided a thorough account of cognition, its structure and limits. In the Prolegomena and the B Critique Kant distinguished his position more sharply from Hume's. He also adopted a more negative attitude toward "skeptical idealism" than before; but he attributed such skepticism to Descartes, not Hume. Prior to the B Critique Kant did not see Hume as attacking natural science or ordinary cognition. In none of the three works was Kant's main aim to "answer the skeptic." His primary aim was to firmly establish the boundary of metaphysics, by discovering the elements of human cognition and fixing its proper domain. His purported discoveries about the limits of metaphysical cognition meant that the traditional objects of metaphysical knowledge, God, the soul, and the world as it is in itself, are unknowable, hence that traditional metaphysics itself is impossible. Besides settling the possibility or impossibility of metaphysics, his findings would also prevent the illegitimate extension of principles of sensibility to God and the noumenal self, an extension that would threaten the metaphysics of morals by incorrectly denying the thinkability of noumenal freedom, and that might otherwise lead to "materialism, fatalism, atheism, and freethinking unbelief" (B xxxiv). (shrink)

It is common to criticize the idea of objectivity by claiming that we cannot make sense of any cognitive contact with the world that is not constituted by the very materials of our thinking, and to conclude that the idea must be abandoned and that the world is ‘well lost’. We resist this conclusion and argue for a notion of objectivity that places its source within the domain of thoughts by proposing a conception of facts, akin to McDowell’s, as (...) thinkable while independent of any act of thinking. However, we do so without any empiricist commitment. (shrink)

Can judging that an agent blamelessly broke a rule lead us to claim, paradoxically, that no rule was broken at all? Surprisingly, it can. Across seven experiments, we document and explain the phenomenon of excuse validation. We found when an agent blamelessly breaks a rule, it significantly distorts people’s description of the agent’s conduct. Roughly half of people deny that a rule was broken. The results suggest that people engage in excuse validation in order to avoid indirectly blaming others for (...) blameless transgressions. Excuse validation has implications for recent debates in normative ethics, epistemology and the philosophy of language. These debates have featured thought experiments perfectly designed to trigger excuse validation, inhibiting progress in these areas. (shrink)

“There is no use in trying,” said Alice; “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast”. Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass. -/- It is a rather common view among philosophers that one cannot, properly speaking, be said to believe, conceive, imagine, hope for, or seek (...) what is impossible. -/- Some philosophers, for instance George Berkeley and the early Wittgenstein, thought that logically contradictory propositions lack cognitive meaning (informational content) and cannot, therefore, be thought or believed. Philosophers who do not go as far as Berkeley and Wittgenstein in denying that impossible propositions or states of affairs are thinkable, may still claim that it is impossible to rationally believe an impossible proposition. On a classical “Cartesian” view of belief, belief is a purely mental state of the agent holding true a proposition p that she “grasps” and is directly acquainted with. But if the agent is directly acquainted with an impossible proposition, then, presumably, she must know that it is impossible. But surely no rational agent can hold true a proposition that she knows is impossible. Hence, no rational agent can believe an impossible proposition. Thus it seems that on the Cartesian view of propositional attitudes as inner mental states in which proposition are immediately apprehended by the mind, it is impossible for a rational agent to believe, imagine or conceive an impossible proposition. -/- Ruth Barcan Marcus (1983) has suggested that a belief attribution is defeated once it is discovered that the proposition, or state of affairs that is believed is impossible. According to her intuition, just as knowledge implies truth, belief implies possibility. -/- It is commonplace that people claim to believe propositions that later turn out to be impossible. According to Barcan Marcus, the correct thing to say in such a situation is not: I once believed that A but I don’t believe it any longer since I have come to realize that it is impossible that A. What one should say is instead: It once appeared to me that I believed that A, but I did not, since it is impossible that A. Thus, Barcan Marcus defends what we might call Alice’s thesis: Necessarily, for any proposition p and any subject x, if x believes p, then p is possible. -/- Alice’s thesis that it is impossible to hold impossible beliefs, seems to come into conflict with our ordinary practices of attributing beliefs. Consider a mathematical example. Some mathematicians believe that CH (the continuum hypothesis) is true and others believe that it is false. But if CH is true, then it is necessarily true; and if it is false, then it is necessarily false. Regardless of whether CH is true or false, the conclusion seems to be that there are mathematicians who believe impossible propositions. -/- Examples of apparent beliefs in impossible propositions outside of mathematics are also easy to come by. Consider, for example, Kripke’s (1999) story of the Frenchman Pierre who without realizing it has two different names ‘London’ and ‘Londres’ for the same city, London. After having arrived in London, Pierre may assent to ‘Londres is beautiful and London is not beautiful’ without being in any way irrational. It seems reasonably to infer from this that Pierre believes that Londres is beautiful and London is not beautiful. But since ‘Londres’ and ‘London’ are rigid designators for the same city, it seems to follow from this that Pierre believes the inconsistent proposition that we may express as ‘London is both beautiful and not beautiful’. (shrink)

This is not a perfect book, but it is unique, and if you skim the first 400 or so pages, the last 300 (of some 700) are a pretty good attempt to apply what's known about behavior to social changes in violence and manners over time. The basic topic is: how does our genetics control and limit social change? Surprisingly he fails to describe the nature of kin selection (inclusive fitness) which explains much of animal and human social life. He (...) also (like nearly everyone) lacks a clear framework for describing the logical structure of rationality (LSR—John Searle’s preferred term) which I prefer to call the Descriptive Psychology of Higher Order Thought (DPHOT). He should have said something about the many other ways of abusing and exploiting people and the planet, since these are now so much more severe as to render other forms of violence irrelevant. Extending the concept of violence to include the global long term consequences of replication of someone’s genes, and having a grasp of the nature of how evolution works (i.e., kin selection) will provide a very different perspective on history, current events, and how things are likely to go in the next few hundred years. One might start by noting that the decrease in physical violence over history has been matched (and made possible) by the constantly increasing merciless rape of the planet (i.e., by people's destruction of their own descendants future). Pinker (like most people most of the time) is often distracted by the superficialities of culture when it’s biology that matters. See my recent reviews of Wilson’s ‘The Social Conquest of Earth’ and Nowak and Highfield’s ‘SuperCooperators’ for a brief summary of the vacuity of altruism and the operation of kin selection and the uselessness and superficiality of describing behavior in cultural terms. -/- Those wishing a comprehensive up to date account of Wittgenstein, Searle and their analysis of behavior from the modern two systems view may consult my article The Logical Structure of Philosophy, Psychology, Mind and Language as Revealed in Wittgenstein and Searle (2016). Those interested in all my writings in their most recent versions may download from this site my e-book ‘Philosophy, Human Nature and the Collapse of Civilization Michael Starks (2016)- Articles and Reviews 2006-2016’ by Michael Starks First Ed. 662p (2016). -/- All of my papers and books have now been published in revised versions both in ebooks and in printed books. -/- Talking Monkeys: Philosophy, Psychology, Science, Religion and Politics on a Doomed Planet - Articles and Reviews 2006-2017 (2017) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071HVC7YP. -/- The Logical Structure of Philosophy, Psychology, Mind and Language in Ludwig Wittgenstein and John Searle--Articles and Reviews 2006-2016 (2017) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071P1RP1B. -/- Suicidal Utopian Delusions in the 21st century: Philosophy, Human Nature and the Collapse of Civilization - Articles and Reviews 2006-2017 (2017) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0711R5LGX . (shrink)

To most of us – believers and non-believers alike – the possibility of a perfect God co-existing with the kinds of evil that we see calls out for explanation. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the belief that God must have justifying reasons for allowing all the evil that we see has been a perennial feature of theistic thought. Recently, however, a growing number of authors have argued that the existence of a perfect God is compatible with the existence of gratuitous (...) evil. Given powerful, millenia-long sensibilities about power and love and justice, it isn’t hard to find that suggestion simply incredible. Nonetheless, in this paper I will argue that the most prominent theistic alternatives to what has seemed incredible to most of us throughout most of history are themselves patently unacceptable for the theist as well. On any of the most widely accepted accounts of how God could have justifying reasons for permitting some evils, God’s existence means that we have justifying reasons for perpetrating and allowing every evil that we see. That's hard to swallow too. If I’m right about all of this, then two competing outcomes seem to present themselves as a possible result. On the one hand, for the theist, the apparently outrageous suggestion that the existence of a perfect God is compatible with gratuitous evil no longer looks like it faces a formidable, hard-to-resist alternative. On the other hand, some like me might think that my arguments go no distance at all towards dispelling the incredibility of the gratuitous evil nouvelle vague. On this line, theism may seem now to be between the rock and the hard place: it seems hard to make sense of the existence of a perfect God whether or not He has justifying reasons for allowing all the evil that we see. (shrink)

There is a difference between merely thinking that P and really grasping that P. For example, Jackson's (1982) black-and-white Mary cannot (before leaving her black-and-white room) fully grasp what it means to say that fire engines are red, but she can perfectly well entertain the thought that fire engines are red. The contrast between merely thinking and grasping is especially salient in the context of certain moral decisions. For example, an individual who grasps the plight of starving children thanks (...) to evocative images seems much more likely to donate for the children's benefit than someone who is merely told about their plight. This paper offers a phenomenal account of grasping according to which grasping a content (whether a proposition or concept) consists in one's thoughts about the content being constituted by phenomenal experiences of constituents of the content. This account improves on earlier phenomenal accounts of grasping (Bourget 2017a, 2018) by allowing for partial grasping and generalizing to concepts. The paper also addresses objections to phenomenal accounts of grasping, including the objection that recent developments in AI technology show that consciousness is irrelevant to grasping and understanding. (shrink)

In 1975, The New England Journal of Medicine published James Rachels' article 'Active and Passive Euthanasia'. The argumentative method that Rachels introduced, the Bare Difference Argument (also known as the Contrast Strategy), became one of the most widely used tools in ethical reasoning. The argument, however, fails to show active euthanasia being morally permissible. It fails because Rachels takes the intuitions from the case where letting die is morally impermissible and applies the intuitions to cases where letting die is morally (...) permissible. While it is possible to create thought-experiments that are more analogous to euthanasia, in this respect, than Rachels' cases, they too are disanalogous to euthanasia with some of the relevant features. Creating the perfect analogy, however, would be a mistake too. Such a case would be too analogous; people would simply be divided on what kind of moral intuitions they would have. The problem thus highlights a methodological limit in philosophical bioethics and raises questions related to the roles of philosophical ethicists in the context of assisted dying. (shrink)

Hume's Treatise of Human Nature was published in the form of three separate books. The first two, "Of the Understanding" and "Of the Pas- sions," were published in London in January 1739 by John Noon. The third, "Of Morals," was published independently in London by Thomas Longman in November 1740.2 The title and subtitles on all three books are the same: A Treatise of Human Nature: Being An Attempt to introduce the experimental Method of Reasoning into Moral Subjects. On the (...) title page of the first two books Hume employs an epigram from Tacitus: Rara temporumfelicitas, ubi sentire, quae velis; & quae sentias, dicere licet. ["Seldom are men blessed with times in which they may think what they like and say what they think."] On the title page of the third book this epigram is replaced by an epigram taken from the ninth book of Lucan's Pharsalia: Durae semper virtutis amator, Quaere quid est virtus, et posce exemplar honesti. ["Thou that to virtue ever wer't inclined, learn what it is, how certainly defin'd, and leave some perfect Rule to guide Mankind."] Given the context and the prominence of these epigrams, it is a curious fact that they have attracted little or no attention or comment from Hume scholars. -/- In this paper I argue that Hume's use of the epigram from Lucan is directly relevant to his use of the epigram from Tacitus. The epigrams flag very clearly the anti-Christian nature of Hume's intentions in the Treatise and his affiliations with and allegiance to an anti-Christian tradition of thought that stretches from Hobbes and Spinoza in the late seventeenth century to a circle of anti-Newtonian radical freethinkers that appeared in Britain in the first part of the eighteenth century. In more general terms these epigrams are a notable and illuminating example of esoteric communication in this context, and they indicate that the Treatise has an important place in the literature of the radical enlightenment. (shrink)

Objective The relations between thought and reality are studied in many fields of philosophy and science. Examples include ontology and metaphysics in general, linguistics, neuroscience and even mathematics. Each one has its postulates, its language, its methods and its own constraints. It would be unreasonable, however, for them to ignore each other. In the pages that follow we will try to identify areas of proximity between the ideas of contemporary philosophers of language and those issued mainly by Ontology of Knowledge (...) but also by mathematics and neuroscience. We will try to take advantage of the clarity and the perfect structuring of the lecture « La philosophie contemporaine du langage » (the contemporary philosophy of language) given by Professor Denis Vernant . We will make use of this lecture, both for the ideas presented and as a reference process. The goal of this article is to bring out, through a benevolent confrontation, new ideas for the benefit of knowledge in general. (shrink)

Auditory perception is traditionally conceived as the perception of sounds — a friend’s voice, a clap of thunder, a minor chord. However, daily life also seems to present us with experiences characterized by the absence of sound — a moment of silence, a gap between thunderclaps, the hush after a musical performance. In these cases, do we positively hear silence? Or do we just fail to hear, and merely judge or infer that it is silent? This longstanding question remains controversial (...) in both the philosophy and science of perception, with prominent theories holding that sounds are the only objects of auditory experience and thus that our encounter with silence is cognitive, not perceptual. However, this debate has largely remained theoretical, without a key empirical test. Here, we introduce a novel empirical approach, presenting experimental evidence that silence can be genuinely perceived (not just cognitively inferred). We ask whether silences can ‘substitute’ for sounds in event-based auditory illusions — empirical signatures of auditory event representation in which auditory events distort perceived duration. Seven experiments introduce three new ‘silence illusions’ — the one-silence-is-more illusion, silence-based warping, and the oddball-silence illusion — each adapted from a prominent perceptual illusion previously thought to arise only from sounds. Subjects were immersed in ambient noise interrupted by silences structurally identical to the sounds in the original illusions. In all cases, silences elicited temporal distortions perfectly analogous to the illusions produced by sounds. Our results suggest that silence is truly heard, not merely inferred, introducing a general approach for studying absence perception. (shrink)

Louis Althusser is perhaps most well-known for his concept of ‘Ideological State Apparatuses’ (ISAs). However, Althusser is not clear about what role, if any, ISAs play in a post-capitalist society. At times, Althusser talks about ISAs (and the state) withering; at other times, they are merely reformed. Sometimes, ISAs are described as having an inescapable repressive dimension; on other occasions, they are a perfectly acceptable tool for the reproduction of socialism. In this paper, I offer a way of thinking (...) through this confusion that draws on the thought of the Daoist philosopher, Zhuangzi. I argue that Zhuangzian friendship represents a kind of radical equality that is reproducible without the traditional kind of ideological interpellation of ISAs, thereby allowing Althusser explain post-capitalist ideological reproduction. It is worth noting that in this paper, I am not engaging in a textual exegesis of the Zhuangzi. My primary interest is in using the contemporary literature on the Zhuangzi to think through a problem in Althusser’s philosophical system. (shrink)

Iris Murdoch’s The Sovereignty of Good—especially the first essay, “The Idea of Perfection”—is often associated with a critique of a certain picture of agency and its proper place in ethical thought. There is implicit in this critique, however, an alternative, much richer one. I propose a reading of Murdochian agency in terms of the continuous activity of cultivating and refining a distinctive practical standpoint, and I apply this reading to her account of moral progress. For Murdoch moral progress depends on (...) transcending egoism and achieving clear perception of a normatively-saturated reality, but it would be a mistake to think of egoism in terms of selfishness, or clarity in terms of altruism. Rather, I argue, Murdochian moral progress requires overcoming socially-conditioned and often ideological forms of alienation, and making the social conditions that inform our practical standpoints self-conscious. (shrink)

How do we care well for a human being: ourselves or another? Non-Kantian scholars rarely identify the philosophy of Kant as a particularly useful resource with which to understand the full complexity of human care. Kant’s philosophy is often taken to presuppose that a philosophical analysis of good human life needs to attend only to how autonomous, rational agents—sprung up like mushrooms out of nowhere, without a childhood, never sick, always independent—ought to act respectfully, and how they can be forced (...) to interact rightfully. Questions involving aspects of human life captured by what Eva Kittay aptly phrased “the fact of dependency” (1999) —such as our vulnerable, fragile, and embodied social natures, asymmetrical care relations, and deep systemic injustices—are therefore commonly thought to be beyond the grasp of Kant and of Kantian philosophy. Against this historically prominent understanding of Kant’s practical philosophy, below I engage and draw upon recent Kant scholarship which shows both the inadequacy of such rationalist readings and the fruitfulness of using Kant’s practical philosophy to enhance our understanding of human care relations. After situating my approach in the existing, relevant secondary literature on Kant’s human agent, I explore key features of Kant’s accounts of human nature and the highest good. I pay special attention to his proposal that our human nature comprises reflective and unreflective aspects and patterns that we (ought to) strive to develop, transform, and integrate in wise ways through our faculty of desire. In addition, I emphasize the dangers that our ineradicable propensity to do bad things (evil) poses for our projects of self- and other- care. I proceed by outlining how Kant’s account of moral (ethical and legal) responsibility for self and others is developed through his theories of freedom, that is, through his theory of virtue (virtuous internal freedom with its account of perfect and imperfect duties) and his theory of right (rightful external freedom with its account of innate, private, and public right). On the conception I am advancing, we are pretty messy, fragile, and vulnerable beings whose projects of caring are difficult, ongoing, and complex. On the one hand, we (should) strive to care for ourselves (by striving to manage and heal badly functioning parts and by developing, transforming, and integrating immature or distinct parts of ourselves into good wholes) and for others (assisting them in their projects of management and healing and of developing, transforming, and integrating themselves into good wholes) in ways that are both respectful and attentive to the particular people we are—people with lives of our own to live—and the kinds of relationships we share. On the other hand, we should, and can, be forced to interact rightfully, meaning interaction consistent with one another’s basic (innate, private, and public) rights and, hence, contribute to reform projects that improve our inherited, imperfect legal-political systems with regard to care relations. Bringing Kant’s philosophy into dialogue with care theorists, I conclude, advances the insights of both traditions by showing one way to arrive at a multifaceted, yet unified account of human care relations where our embodied, social as well as our rational natures are given due consideration. (shrink)

This is not a perfect book, but it is unique, and if you skim the first 400 or so pages, the last 300 (of some 700) are a pretty good attempt to apply what's known about behavior to social changes in violence and manners over time. The basic topic is: how does our genetics control and limit social change? Surprisingly he fails to describe the nature of kin selection (inclusive fitness) which explains much of animal and human social life. He (...) also (like nearly everyone) lacks a clear framework for describing the logical structure of rationality (LSR—John Searle’s preferred term) which I prefer to call the Descriptive Psychology of Higher Order Thought (DPHOT). He should have said something about the many other ways of abusing and exploiting people and the planet, since these are now so much more severe as to render other forms of violence nearly irrelevant. Extending the concept of violence to include the global long-term consequences of replication of someone’s genes, and having a grasp of the nature of how evolution works (i.e., kin selection) will provide a very different perspective on history, current events, and how things are likely to go in the next few hundred years. One might start by noting that the decrease in physical violence over history has been matched (and made possible) by the constantly increasing merciless rape of the planet (i.e., by people's destruction of their own descendant’s future). Pinker (like most people most of the time) is often distracted by the superficialities of culture when it’s biology that matters. See my recent reviews of Wilson’s ‘The Social Conquest of Earth’ and Nowak and Highfield’s ‘SuperCooperators’ here and on the net for a brief summary of the vacuity of ‘true altruism’ (group selection), and the operation of kin selection and the uselessness and superficiality of describing behavior in cultural terms. -/- This is the classic nature/nurture issue and nature trumps nurture --infinitely. What really matters is the violence done to the earth by the relentless increase in population and resource destruction (due to medicine and technology and conflict suppression by police and military). About 200,000 more people a day (another Las Vegas every 10 days, another Los Angeles every month), the 6 tons or so of topsoil going into the sea/person/year –about 1% of the world’s total disappearing yearly, etc. mean that unless some miracle happens the biosphere and civilization will largely collapse during next two centuries, and there will be starvation, misery and violence of every kind on a staggering scale. People's manners, opinions and tendencies to commit violent acts are of no relevance unless they can do something to avoid this catastrophe, and I don't see how that is going to happen. There is no space for arguments, and no point either (yes I'm a fatalist), so I'll just make a few comments as though they were facts. Don't imagine I have a personal stake in promoting one group at the expense of others. I am 78, have no descendants and no close relatives and do not identify with any political, national or religious group and regard the ones I belong to by default as just as repulsive as all the rest. -/- Parents are the worst Enemies of Life on Earth and, taking the broad view of things, women are as violent as men when one considers the fact that women's violence (like most of that done by men) is largely done in slow motion, at a distance in time and space and mostly carried out by proxy -by their descendants and by men. Increasingly, women bear children regardless of whether they have a mate and the effect of stopping one woman from breeding is on average much greater than stopping one man, since they are the reproductive bottleneck. One can take the view that people and their offspring richly deserve whatever misery comes their way and (with rare exceptions) the rich and famous are the worst offenders. Meryl Streep or Bill Gates or J.K Rowling and each of their kids may destroy 50 tons of topsoil each per year for generations into the future, while an Indian farmer and his may destroy 1 ton. If someone denies it that's fine, and to their descendants I say "Welcome to Hell on Earth"(WTHOE). -/- The emphasis nowadays is always on Human Rights, but it is clear that if civilization is to stand a chance, Human Responsibilities must replace Human Rights. Nobody gets rights without being a responsible citizen and the first thing this means is minimal environmental destruction. The most basic responsibility is no children unless your society asks you to produce them. A society or a world that lets people breed at random will always be exploited by selfish genes until it collapses (or reaches a point where life is so horrific it's not worth living). If society continues to maintain Human Rights as primary, to their descendants one can say with confidence "WTHOE". -/- Those wishing a comprehensive up to date framework for human behavior from the modern two systems view may consult my book ‘The Logical Structure of Philosophy, Psychology, Mind and Language in Ludwig Wittgenstein and John Searle’ 2nd ed (2019). Those interested in more of my writings may see ‘Talking Monkeys--Philosophy, Psychology, Science, Religion and Politics on a Doomed Planet--Articles and Reviews 2006-2019 3rd ed (2019), The Logical Structure of Human Behavior (2019), and Suicidal Utopian Delusions in the 21st Century 4th ed (2019) . (shrink)

This article seeks to justify the claim that Thomas Aquinas proposed a concept of natural law which is immune to the argument against the recognition of an objective grounding of the good formulated by a well-known representative of the liberal tradition, Isaiah Berlin, in his famous essay “Two Concepts of Freedom.” I argue that Aquinas’s concept of freedom takes into account the very same values and goals that Berlin set out to defend when he composed his critique of natural law. (...) In particular, the article suggests that Aquinas recognizes freedom as a greater perfection of man than rationality, and that this freedom is realized, among other things, through the co-construction of the good that gives a goal and a shape to human action and to the whole of a person’s life. I argue that the co-construction of such a good involves the co-construction of natural law in the strict sense of the term. Indeed, the content of natural law can be understood as a set of goods which are goals that inform human action. From a human perspective, natural law is not a pre-existing recipe which has merely to be “read.” Defining the concrete content of natural law is an ongoing process. The process of defining natural law’s content takes humanly knowable, objective elements into account, and so draws on knowledge. Yet free choice also plays an important part in this process. When speaking of the process of defining the content of natural law, therefore, and in determining what here-and-now is to be done, it is reasonable to describe man as a creator of the natural law, or as a legislator, just as the members of a parliament are the creators of civil law — bearing in mind that only a just law is truly law and therefore the creation of both civil and natural law reaches only as far is the scope of just actions directed by these laws. From the perspective of human action, we may speak of each person’s free choice to establish a given good as the end of a specific act, and in so doing to declare that action proper under natural law in the strict sense of the term (which differs from the rules of natural law). An appreciation of what is particular and individual (particulare et individuum), and an appreciation of free choice that goes hand-in-hand with this, is deeply embedded in Thomas’s system of thought. Particularity and individuality has its basis in an especially excellent way of human existence. (shrink)

I offer a reading of Murdoch's conception of concrete universality as it appears in 'The Idea of Perfection', the first essay in the Sovereignty of Good. I show that it has British Idealist overtones that are inflected by Wittgenstein, a thought I try to illuminate by drawing an analogy with Wittgenstein's discussion of the metre stick in Paris in Philosophical Investigations §50. In the last part of the paper, I appeal to the work of Murdoch's erstwhile tutor Donald MacKinnon to (...) respond to an objection to my strategy, which I draw from Murdoch's later work, Metaphysics as a Guide to Morals. (shrink)

Convinced that anthropology constitutes the nucleus of K. Wojtyla's thought, the author attempts to discover what kind of anthropology is at the basis of Wojtyla's philosophical writings and the implications of that anthropology. The analysis of the basic structures of Wojtyla's anthropology (the experience of that which occurs and that of action, the structure of the person-act, the transcendence of the person in truth, gift, etc.) leads the author to hold that Wojtyla's philosophy can be considered a coherent metaphysics of (...) the person since the person who acts is not just the method (the conscience of the action), but also the object of study and, above all, the end, that is, to know and to make known to the person his special dignity. Regarding the contribution of Wojytla's anthropology, the author identifies two central themes: the relationship between person and act, and relationality. Regarding the former, Wojtyla effects a synthesis of metaphysics of being and phenomenology: the person is not relative to his acts, because he is a suppositum; nonetheless, the person is in close relationship to his acts. If it were not for these acts the person could not even know himself as subject and could not perfect himself as a person. Regarding the latter, Wojtyla sustains that the person is not person in the singular but in the plural, since each person is in relation with all the others, and this is shown from the phenomena of participation, solidarity, and, above all, donation. The author concludes by sustaining that the multiplicity and the original relationality of the person is one of the aspects of Wojtyla's anthropology that would be worthy of further study. (shrink)

Aristotle classifies opposition (ἀντικεῖσθαι) into four groups: relatives (τὰ πρός τι), contraries (τὰ ἐναντία), privation and possession (στρέσις καὶ ἓξις) and affirmation and negation (κατάφασις καὶ ἀπόφασις). (Cat. , 10, 11b15-23) His example of relatives are the double and the half. Aristotle’s description of relatives as a kind of opposition is as such: ‘Things opposed as relatives are called just what they are, of their opposites (αὐτὰ ἃπερ ἐστι τῶν ἀντικειμένων λέγεται) or in some other way in relation to them. (...) For example, the double is called just what it is double of the other (οἷον τὸ διπλάσιον, αὐτὸ ὃπερ ἐστίν, ἑτέρου διπλάσιον λέγεται). Again, knowledge and the knowable are opposed as relatives, and knowledge is called just what it is, of the knowable, and the knowable too is called just what it is, in relation to its opposite, knowledge; for the knowable is called knowable by something-by knowledge.’ (Cat., 10, 11b24-30) 2) Senses of relatives In Met., Δ, 1020b26-32 Aristotle distinguishes three senses of relatives: i) That which contains something else many times to that which is contained many times in something else, and that which exceeds to that which is exceeded. E.g. double to half ii) The active to the passive; e.g. that which can heat to that which can be heated iii) The measurable to the measure, e.g. the knowable to knowledge and the perceptible to perception. 3) Relatives and contraries Aristotle’s discussion of relatives is unbelievably ambiguous. While he enumerates relatives besides contraries, privation-possession and affirmation-negation as four types of opposition (Cat., 10, 11b15-23), not only does not he restrict relatives to oppositions but he also does not totally differentiate it from contraries. Aristotle distinguishes between two senses of relatives one of which is contraries: ‘We have distinguished elsewhere the two senses in which relatives are so called-some as contraries (ὡς ἐναντία), others as knowledge to things known, a term being called relative because what is said one to the other is said by the other to itself (τῷ λέγεσθαί τι ἄλλο πρὸς αὐτό). (Met., I, 1056b34-1057a1) It seems that this differentiation is the same as, and maybe the one he himself refers to, the differentiation between the second and the third senses of relatives in Met., Δ, 1021a27-32: ‘Relative terms which imply number or capacity, therefore, are all relative because their very essence includes in its nature a reference to something else, not because something else is related to it (πρός τι πὰντα ἐστὶ πρός τι τῷ ὃπερ ἐστὶν ἄλλου λέγεσθαι αὐτὸ ὃ ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ μὴ τῷ ἄλλο πρὸς ἐκεινο); but that which is measurable or knowable or thinkable is called relative because something else is related to it. For the thinkable implies that there is thought of it, but the thought is not relative to that of which it is the thought; for we should then have said the same thing twice.’ Although Aristotle confirms contrariety in relatives (e.g. virtue to vice and knowledge to ignorance), he denies that there is a contrary ‘to every relative’ as there can be no contrary to what is double or treble. (Cat., 7, 6b15-19) The fact that Aristotle dedicates one sense of relatives to contraries means that the fourfold division of oppositions is not such a strict division without any kind of community between them. In his example of the first sense, however, Aristotle says: ‘One and number are in a sense opposed, not as contrary, but as we have said some relative terms are opposed; for inasmuch as one is measure and the other measurable, they are opposed.’ (Met., I, 1057a4-6) Now, the question is: Is Aristotle’s first sense of relative a contrary or not? Aristotle tells us that the opposition in this sense of relatives is the opposition of measure and measurable. The second sense has two differences with the first one: i) it is not a contrary and ii) what is said by one of the relatives to the other is also said by the latter to the former. To differentiate it from the first sense, when the one is the measure of the other, the latter will be the measure of the former as well: ‘But though knowledge is similarly spoken of as related to the knowable, the relation does not work out similarly for while knowledge might be thought to be the measure, and the knowable the thing measured, the fact is that all knowledge is knowable, but not all that is knowable is knowledge, because in a sense knowledge is measured by the knowable.’ (Met., I, 1057a7-12) Aristotle’s assertion at Met., I, 1057a36-37 that ‘of relative terms, those which are not contrary have no intermediate’ ensures us that we must take the first sense as contraries. Here he mentions a criterion of differentiation between two senses: while the first sense accepts intermediates (as, for example, great and small do), the second one does not. (Met., I, 1057a37-b1) It seems, however, that it is only the second sense that is the essential sense of relatives because the first sense, Aristotle says, is an accidental sense: ‘The one is opposed then to the many in numbers as measure to things measureable; and these are opposed as relatives which are not from their very nature relatives.’ (Met., I, 1056b32-34) 4) Definition of relative Aristotle’s first definition of the category of relative (πρός τι) is as such: ‘We call relative all such things as are said to be just what they are, of or than other things, or in some other way in relation to something else (Πρός τι δὲ τὰ τοιαῦτα λέγεται, ὃσα αὐτὰ ἃπερ ἐστὶν ἓτερων εἶναι λέγεται, ἢ ὁπωσοῦν ἄλλως πρὸς ἓτερον). (Cat., 7, 6a36-37; repeated almost without any change in: Cat., 7, 6b6-8) Aristotle’s examples are larger (because it is what it is than something else (τοῦθ᾿ ὃπερ ἐστὶν ἑτέρου λέγεται) that means it is called larger than something) and double. (Cat., 7, 6a37-b1) Aristotle’s aporia regarding relative is about their relation with substances: whether no substance is spoken of as a relative, or whether this is possible with regard to some secondary substances. (Cat., 7, 8a13-15) In the case of primary substances, it seems that he is confident, at least at first, that neither themselves nor their parts are spoken of in relation to anything: neither an individual man is called someone’s individual man nor an individual hand is called someone’s individual hand (but someone’s hand). (Cat., 7, 8a15-21) Although it is obvious that most of secondary substances are not spoken of as relatives (a man is not called someone’s man) (Cat., 7, 8a21-25), there are some with them there is room for dispute: a head is someone’s head and a hand is called someone’s hand, which seem to be relatives. (Cat., 7, 8a25-28) Aristotle thinks this must be due to the previous definition’s being problematic: with that definition ‘it is either exceedingly difficult or impossible to reach the solution that no substance is spoken of as a relative.’ (Cat., 7, 8a28-32) Thus, Aristotle changes his previous definition to a new one: ‘Those things are relatives for which being is the same as being somehow related to something’ (ἔστι τὰ πρός τι οἷς τὸ εἶναι ταὐτόν ἐστι τῷ πρός τί). (Cat., 7, 8a32-34) Although the first definition does indeed apply to all relations, its problem is that it does not take ‘their own being relative’ (τῷ πρός τι αὐτοῖς εἶναι) the same as ‘their being what they are of other things’ (ἃπερ ἐστὶν ἑτέρων λέγεσθαι). (Cat., 7, 8a34-37) Although this change of definition is to exclude all substances from being relative, what Aristotle says in Topics (To., Z, 8, 146a39- ), seems to ignore this: ‘For of everything relative the substance is relative to something else, seeing that the being of every relative term is identical with being in a certain relation to something.’ 5) Necessary knowledge of the related Knowledge of that in relation to which a relative is spoken of is necessary when one knows the relative: it is impossible to know a relative and at the same time not to know that in relation to which it is spoken of. (Cat., 7, 8a37-b3) To prove this, Aristotle adheres to the definition of relatives: ‘If someone knows of a certain ‘this’ that it is a relative, and being for relatives is the same as being somehow related to something, he knows that also to which this is somehow related.’ (Cat., 7, 8a37-b3; cf. 7, 8b3-15 for Aristotle’s examples) This necessary knowledge of the related, if we call it so, dedicates Aristotle an epistemological reason, besides the ontological one mentioned in his definition, for the exclusion of substances. As we noted in our discussion of Aristotle’s definition of relatives, he changed his first definition to exclude all substances from being relatives. Therefore, it is evident that for him relatives must not include substances, either primary or secondary. Aristotle does have no problem with primary substances simply because it is evident for him that they cannot be relatives. The same can be said about most of the secondary substances as well. The problem for which he changed the definition of substances was about some secondary substances like ‘head’ or ‘hand’: the fact that it is possible to know a hand or head without necessarily knowing definitely that in relation to which it is spoken of proves that they are not relatives. (Cat., 7, 8b15-21) 6) Reciprocation Aristotle regards reciprocation (ἀντιστρέφειν) necessary in all relations: ‘All relatives are spoken of in relation to correlatives that reciprocate.’ (Cat., 7, 6b28-29; cf. Cat., 10, 12b21-24) The sense of reciprocation is clear by his own examples: ‘The slave is called slave of a master and the master is called master of a slave; the double double of a half, and the half half of a double.’ (Cat., 7, 6b29-31) Reciprocation of relatives is so necessary that if there seems that we do not have reciprocation, it must necessarily be due to a mistake and that in relation to which something is spoken of must have not been given properly. (Cat., 7, 6b36-7a1) Aristotle’s example is this: If a wing is given as of a bird, ‘bird of a wing’ does not reciprocate because it has not been given properly: a wing is of a winged and not of a bird; a wing is wing of a winged and a winged is winged with a wing. (Cat., 7, 7a1-5) Even if we do not have a proper name to have a proper reciprocation, Aristotle points, we must invent names. (Cat., 7, 7a5-15 and 7b10-14) Thus, having proper names is the condition of necessary reciprocation: ‘All relatives are spoken of in relation to correlatives that reciprocate, provided they are properly given.’ (Cat., 7, 7a22-23) This condition is also said in another way: there is no reciprocation if a relation is given as related to some chance thing or to something that is accidentally the related thing like when, for example, a slave is given as of a man or a biped instead of being given as of a master. (Cat., 7, 7a25-31) 7) Simultaneity of relatives Aristotle believes that in most cases relatives are simultaneous: double and half or master and slave must exist at the same time: when there is a half, there is a double and when there is a slave, there is a master. (Cat., 7, 7b10-14) However, this receives some exceptions like knowable, which is prior and can, thus, exist before and without knowledge. (Cat., 7, 7b22-27) What approves this non-simultaneousness for Aristotle is that the destruction of knowledge does not carry the knowable to destruction. (Cat., 7, 7b27-31) The same is said about perception and perceptible. (Cat., 7, 7b35-8a9) Aristotle attaches simultaneity to reciprocation. This reciprocation, however, is not a simple reciprocation but ‘reciprocation as to implication of existence’ (ἀντιστρέφει μὲν κατὰ τὴν τοῦ εἶναι) with the condition that neither be in any way the cause of the other’s existence. (Cat., 13, 14b27-29; the same is said also at: Cat., 13, 15a4-11) Aristotle’s examples are the double and the half because when there is a double there is a half and when there is a half there is a double but neither is the cause of the other’s existence. (Cat., 13, 14b29-32) (We have ‘reciprocation as to implication of existence’ also in relation between genus and species but it seems that this has a totally different sense there. 8) Having no independent reality That a relative cannot be a substance, either a primary or a secondary substance, is discussed in our review of both the definition of relatives and their reciprocation. The differentiation of relatives and substances are so deep for Aristotle that after questioning the possibility of any common element or principle for substances and relatives (Met., Λ, 1070a33-36), he asserts that no substance, on the one hand, is the element of relatives and none of the relatives, on the other hand, is the element of substances. (Met., Λ, 1070b3-4) Aristotle does not, however, suffice to this. For him, relatives have the least substantiality, which is, for him, almost the same as reality: ‘The relative is least of all categories a real thing (φύσις τις) or substance, and less than quality and quantity; and the relative is an affection of quantity.’ (Met., M, 1088a22-25) Aristotle believes that an evidence of this least reality (ὄν) and substantiality is that relatives have no proper generation, destruction or movement while each of substance, quality and quantity have them. (Met., M, 1088a29-35) Moreover, neither motion (Phy., E, 1) nor any kind of change is applicable to relatives so that relatives are neither themselves alterations nor the subject of alterations (Phy., Z, 3) and the process of losing and acquiring states cannot be considered as alterations because these are the result of the alterations of non-relative things of which they are states. (Phy., Z, 3) Relative is not even matter but is something different. (Met., M, 1088a24-25) The reason is that the matter is potentially of a nature but relative is neither potentially nor actually of a nature. (Met., M, 1088b1-2) To understand the status of relatives in Aristotle’s world, we have to make a tripartite classification; a classification that though Aristotle himself did not make, his assertions approve it. Based on this division, there are three kinds of being in the world: i) Independent beings: This class includes only substances. ii) Dependent beings: This class includes qualities and quantities. Although they are real, they are ‘in’ substances and cannot exist without them. iii) Super dependent beings: This class includes at least relatives. The fact that relatives must be considered in a third class different from substances, on the one hand, and qualities and quantities, on the other hand, is obvious not only from the previously mentioned texts (Met., M, 1088a22-25, 29-35 and b1-2) in which relatives’ reality is considered less than all substances, qualities and quantities and different from matters but from this text: ‘For there is nothing either great or small, many or few, or, in general, relative which is not something (τι ὄν) different (ἓτερον) [that is also] many or few or great or small’. (Met, N, 1088a27-30) Therefore, super dependent beings are those beings that must necessarily be also something else, i.e. an independent or dependent being. Ackrill (1963, 99) points that some of the words used by Aristotle to exemplify relational entities, e.g. slave, are endowed with a complete sense and do not need to be supplemented by a correlate. (Thus, the linguist criterion of incompleteness would be deficient. Some other instances of relative entities like ‘state,’ ‘knowledge’ and perception are not necessarily followed by the genitive case. 9) Extent of relatives What is the extent of relatives? What are or are not included in relatives either among categories or among other concepts? Which concepts or things Aristotle regard as relative? i) Aristotle includes state (ἓξις) and position (θέσις) among relatives. (Cat., 7, 6b2-6; Cat., 7, 6b11-14; Cat., 8, 11a20-24) ii) Although relative is not matter but is something different (Met., M, 1088a24-25), matter is ‘non-being’ only in virtue of an attribute (Phy., A, 9) and is, thus, a relative term. (Phy., B, 2, 194b9) 10) Property and relativity Aristotle draws a contrast between two types of giving a property, absolute and relative: ‘A property is given either in its own right and for always or relative to something else and for a time.’ (To., E, 1, ^128b15-18) Being a civilized man, for example, is an absolute property for man while to command is a relative property for the soul. The absolute property, however, is considered not only potential to be discussed or observed in relation to many things or periods of time, it in fact ‘belongs to its subject relatively to every single thing that there is, so that if the subject is not distinguished relatively to everything else, the property will not have been given correctly.’ (To., E, 1, 129a18-20) Therefore, an absolute property is a property that ‘is ascribed to a thing in comparison with everything else and distinguishes it from everything else.’ (To., E, 1, 128b33- ) An absolute property is, then, absolutely relative and not conditionally relative, i.e. relative to a specific thing. This is what differentiates it from a relative property, which is relative to a certain thing: ‘A property relative to something else is one which separates its subject off not from everything else but from a particular definite thing.’ (To., E, 1, 128b33- ) One important difference between absolute and relative properties is that while an accident can be a relative property, it can never be an absolute property. (To., I, 5, ^102b20-36) For example, sitting, which is an accident, is also a property relatively to those who are not sitting. (To., I, 5, ^102b20-36) 11) Platonic theories as relatives At least three of Platonic theories Aristotle attaches to relatives: i) Forms ‘It seems that a Form is always spoken of in relation to a Form-this desire itself is for the pleasure itself, and wishing itself is for the good itself.’ (To., Z, 8, 147a^10) Moreover, the theory of Forms takes the relative prior to the absolute as, for example, it takes not the dyad but the number as first. (Met., A, 990b15-17) Aristotle believes that this is against not only the necessities of the case but only the Platonists’ opinion because Forms must be substances only, if they can be shared. (Met., A, 990b27-29) There are, however, things like ‘equal’ which are only relative: they are only in relation to something else. Now the theory that ideas are supposed to be substances only should entail the substantiality of merely relatives. The reason being that Forms are not shared incidentally but each thing shares in that which is not predicated of a subject. (Met., A, 990b29-31) ii) Unequal The Platonic theory of great and small or unequal, which we know more from Aristotle and has, in Platonic philosophy, a role like that of matter in Aristotelian philosophy, is also called relative by Aristole. (Met., M, 1089b4-15) iii) Potentiality Aristotle says that Platonists take what potentially is a ‘this’ and a substance but not actually so a relative because it is ‘neither potentially the one or being, nor the contradictory of the one nor of being, but one among beings.’ (Met., N, 1089b15-20) 12) All things as relative Aristotle attaches the theory that ‘everything is true’ to relativity and thinks the consequence of believing in this theory is that everything is true: ‘He who says all things that appear are true, makes all things relative.’ (Met., Γ, 1011a17-20) 13) Genera and species of relatives There are some genera, Aristotle hints, that are relative but their species are not relative. In such cases, the genera are spoken of in relation to something, but none of the particular cases are so spoken. (Cat., 8, 11a20-36) Aristole’s examples are knowledge and grammar of which the former is a relative but the latter is a quality. The consequence of this is that there is nothing absurd for a thing to be in both genera of relative and quality. (Cat., 8, 11a37- ) However, when the species is a relative, the genera will be a relative too. (To., Δ, 4, 124b15- ) Moreover, Aristotle asserts that ‘the differentiae of relative terms are themselves relative.’ (To., Z, 6, 145a14-16) Things that are called relative are called so, Aristotle says, ‘because the classes that include them are of this sort, e.g. medicine is thought to be relative bcs its genus, knowledge, is thought to be relative,’ (Met., Δ, 1021b4-6) 14) Relatives as indefinite? Fabio Morales takes 1088a29-b1 as a textual evidence supporting the assumption that Aristotle regarded relational terms as indefinite. (shrink)

Wars are large-scale conflicts between organized groups of belligerents, which involve suffering, devastation, and brutality unlike almost anything else in human experience. Whatever one’s other beliefs about morality, all should agree that the horrors of war are all but unconscionable, and that warfare can be justified only if we have some compel- ling account of what is worth fighting for, which can justify contributing, as individu- als and as groups, to this calamitous endeavour. Although this question should obviously be central (...) to both philosophical and politi- cal discussion about war, it is at the forefront of neither. In recent years, philosophical discussion of warfare has bloomed, but the debate has focused on whom we may kill, on the assumption that our aims are justified.1 Political debate, meanwhile, is more concerned with matters of prudence, international law, and public justification, than with reassessing what is worth fighting for. For wars of intervention to halt or prevent massive humanitarian crises, this gap is not so troubling. When warfare is the only means to prevent the mass killing or enslavement of the innocent, the purposes of military force are clear enough (though undoubtedly many other problems remain). The problem is more pressing, how- ever, for the justification of national defence.3 Although common-sense morality and international law view national defence as the paradigm case of justified warfare, grounding this consensus is surprisingly difficult.4 We typically believe that any state is justified in using lethal force to protect its territory against any form of uninvited military incursion by any other state. And yet we lack a good argument to explain why this should be so. In this chapter, I explain why one familiar and otherwise plausible approach to the justification of killing in war cannot adequately ground common-sense views of permissible national defence.5 Reductionists believe that justified warfare reduces to an aggregation of acts that are justified under ordinary principles of interpersonal morality.6 The standard form of reductionism focuses on the principles governing killing in ordinary life, specifically those that justify intentional killing in self- and other-defence, and unintended but foreseen (for short, collateral) killing as a lesser evil. Justified warfare, on this view, is no more than the coextension of multiple acts justified under these two principles. Reductionism is the default philosophical approach to thinking through the ethics of killing in war. It makes perfect sense to ask what principles govern permissible kill- ing in general, before applying them to the particular context of war. If it cannot deliver a plausible set of conclusions about when national defence is permitted, then we must either revise our beliefs about which conclusions count as plausible, or else face the significant challenge of developing a different theoretical model for justifying war- fare—an exceptionalist model, which views war as an exception to the regular moral landscape, to which principles apply which apply to nothing else but war.7 We must show, in other words, that there is something worth fighting for in wars of national defence, which is not engaged when we use force in any other context. The chapter proceeds as follows. Section 2.2 sets out the argument against reduc- tionism.8 Section 2.3 considers and rebuts one common response to the argument, which has often been thought sufficient grounds to disregard its conclusion. Section 2.4 then asks whether a modified reductionism would survive unscathed by the argu- ment. Finally, section 2.5 sets out some desiderata on a plausible exceptionalist alterna- tive. Section 2.6 concludes. (shrink)

At the very beginning of On Interpretation (I, 1, 16a3-14) Aristotle distinguishes four levels and discusses their relationships. From this text, we can infer the following: 1. There are four levels: writing, speaking, mental experience and external world. Since writing and speaking can truly be taken as belonging to the same realm, we can reduce Aristotle’s distinction to three realms: language, thought and external world. 2. The realm of language, in both levels of writing and speaking, is different for different (...) people but both of the other realms of thought and external world are the same for them. By this Aristotle must mean that though people of different languages have different writings and speaking words, the things that are in the world and their affections on people’s thought are the same. 3. The relations both between language and thought and in language itself is symbolization: ‘Spoken words are the symbols of mental experience and written words are the symbols of spoken words.’ 4. The relation between external world and thought is similarity: ‘Those things of which our mental experiences are similarities (παθἠματα τῆς ψυχῆς ... ὁμοιώματα).’ (ΟΙ., 16a7) In de Anima (16a8-9; II, 5, 418a4-5; II, 4, 429a10-11; 429a13-16; 429a23) Aristotle describes thoughts as ‘likenesses of objects.’ Paolo Crivelli says that in these addresses Aristotle believe that ‘a thought is of an object just if it is a likeness of it’ and ‘to be a likeness of an object is to be the result of a process of likening of which that object is a cause.’ This, Crivelli believes, is indeed the basis of the sameness of the objects of thoughts: they are results of the same processes of likening by the same objects. 5. There is a correspondence between nouns and verbs on the one hand and objects of thought without co-positing and positing away on the other hand: ‘Nouns themselves and verbs are like objects of thought (νοἠματι) without co-positing and positing away.’ (OI, I, 1, 16a13-14) A. Relationship between external world and thought The following can be inferred from Aristotle’s works about the relationship between thought and external world: 1. ‘The soul is in a way all existing things; for existing things are either sensible or thinkable, and knowledge is in a way what is knowable, and sensation is in a way what is sensible.’ (So., Γ, 8, 431b21-23) In fact, ‘within the soul the faculties of knowledge and sensation are potentially these objects, the one what is knowable, the other what is sensible.’ (So., Γ, 8, 431b26-27) 2. It is the form of the external objects that are in thought (So., Γ, 8, 431b26-29) and the objects of thought are in the sensible forms, viz. both the abstract objects and all the states and affections of sensible things (ἐν τοῖς εἴδεσι τοῖς αἰσθητοῖς τὰ νοητὰ ἐστι, τά τε ἐν ἀφαιρέσει λεγόμενα, καὶ ὃσα τῶν αἰσθητῶν ἓξις καὶ πάθη). (So., Γ, 8, 432a3-6) 3. While external objects are perishable, objects of thought seem to be eternal. (PrA., A, 33, 47b21-22) B. Relationship between language and the external world 1. There is a correspondence between the external world and the true statements about them: ‘If it is true to say that a thing is white, it must necessarily be white; if the reverse proposition is true, it will of necessity not be white.’ (OI, I, 9, 18a39-b5) 2. While external objects ‘does seem in some way the cause of’ the truth or falsity of lingual statements, ‘the true statement is in no way the cause of the actual thing’s existence.’ (Cat., 12, 14b18-22; cf. OI, I, 9, 18b36-19a6) Thus, the external objects reciprocate as to implication of existence with the corresponding true statement about them and thus are prior to them.’ (Cat., 12, 14b11-23) 3. The opposition between an affirmation and negation corresponds to an opposition in the external world between the objects underlying those statements. (Cat., 10, 12b6-15) 4. The correspondence of the whole structure of the external world and language for Aristotle is so that in analyzing the language he shows himself as analyzing the external world. It is in fact a very crucial and controversial dispute whether Aristotle’s philosophy in its very decisive parts is theorizing about language or about external world. In most of his important theories, he begins with discussing language. In fact, language is where he enters the discussion and, in many cases, where he finishes it. In these cases, he either does not discuss external world at all or only derives some principles or conclusions about it. In some other cases he begins from language but ends in external world. a) Daniel W. Graham thinks that language is Aristotle’s ‘model of the world.’ He refers to ‘subjecthood’ as what formally characterizes primary substance and explains how it bases reality in Aristotle: while to be an absolute subject is equal to be fully real, to be a predicate of a subject is equal to be real. ‘Language is not merely a tool to get around in the world; it reveals the structure of the world … the deep structure of language is isomorphic with the world… In this word, logic can reveal connections between elements because language and the world have a form in common. He lists Trendelenburg (1846, 11-13), Gillespie (1925) and (Ackrill (1963, 78-81) as those who have the same idea. b) Emphasizing on the force of τί in Aristotle’s statement when he says that assertions affirm something (τί) of something (τί) makes Peter Simpson (p. 85) to stress, in his interpretation of Jacob’s theory, on the ontological aspect of Aristotle’s philosophy. Jacob says that in his theory of predication, Aristotle focuses on ‘things’ and not words or concepts and predication is a relationship between extralinguistic entities rather than merely linguistic ones; something extralinguistic and ontological. c) Quoting Ackrill ((1963, 73): ‘the categories classify things, not words’) and Kahn ((1978, 248): ‘Aristotle never regards predication as a grammatical or linguistic relation of word to word, nor does he ever speak of subject and predicate as concepts united in judgment’), Fabio Morales says that Aristotle is not classifying predication in Categories but the attributes or properties these stand for.’ d) Graham thinks that the theory of synonymity-homonimity is not purely linguistic, since it is things rather than words that have these properties. (shrink)