The privation theory of evil (PTE) states that evil is the absence of some good that is supposed to be present. For example, if vision is an intrinsic good, and if human beings are supposed to have vision, then PTE implies that a human being’s lacking vision is an evil, or a bad state of affairs. The mere-difference view of disability (MDD) states that disabilities like blindness are not inherently bad. Therefore, it would seem that (...) lacking sight is not a bad state of affairs. Thus PTE and MDD seem to be in tension. This essay discusses that apparent tension and explains how it might be resolved without doing violence to either view. Given the prominence of PTE in the history of Christian theology, and the wide support for MDD among disability theorists, it is worth finding a way to harmonize these two views. (shrink)

Augustine’s privation theory of evil maintains that something is evil in virtue of a privation, a lack of something which ought to be present in a particular nature. While it is not evil for a human to lack wings, it is indeed evil for a human to lack rationality according to the end of a rational nature. Much of the literature on the privation theory focuses on whether it can successfully defend (...) against counterexamples of positive evils, such as pain. This focus of the discussion is not surprising, given that the privation theory is a theory about the nature of evil. But it is also a theory that protects venerable theological concerns, namely, that God is the good creator of everything, and that everything is good. It is the purpose of this article to further this discussion on both fronts. I argue that the counterexample of pain still defeats the privation theory despite the most recent defense. What is more, I suggest, this is not theologically disastrous. The individual who rejects the privation theory is not obligated to reject the theological theses which motivate it. To show how a rejection of the privation theory is a live option, I offer an alternative view of evil that also maintains these theological theses and encompasses both privative and positive evils. (shrink)

The paper argues that pain is not a good counter-example to the privation theory of evil. Objectors to the privation thesis see pain as too real to be accounted for in privative terms. However, the properties for which pain is intuitively thought of as real, i.e. its localised nature, intensity, and quality are features of the senso-somatic aspect of pain. This is a problem for the objectors because, as findings of modern science clearly demonstrate, the senso-somatic (...) aspect of pain is neurologically and clinically separate from the emotional-psychological aspect of suffering. The intuition that what seems so real in pain is also the source of pain’s negative value thus falls apart. As far as the affective aspect of pain, i.e. ”painfulness’ is concerned, it cannot refute the privation thesis either. For even if this is indeed the source of pain’s badness, the affective aspect is best accounted for in privative terms of loss and negation. The same holds for the effect of pain on the aching person. (shrink)

Most modern writers accept that a privation theory of evil should explicitly account for the evil of pain. But pains are quintessentially real. The evil of pain does not seem to lie in an absence of good. Though many directly take on the challenges this raises, the metaphysics and axiology of their answers is often obscure. In this paper I try to straighten things out. By clarifying and categorizing the possible types of privation views, (...) I explore the ways in which privationists about evil are—or should or could be—privationists about pain’s evil. (shrink)

There was a consensus in late Scholasticism that evils are privations, the lacks of appropriate perfections. For something to be evil is for it to lack an excellence that, by its nature, it ought to have. This widely accepted ontology of evil was used, in part, to help explain the source of evil in a world created and sustained by a perfect being. during the second half of the seventeenth century, progressive early moderns began to criticize the (...) traditional privative account of evil on a variety of philosophical and theological grounds. Embedded in Scholastic Aristotelianism and applied to problems of evil, privation theory seemed to some like yet another instance of pre-modern pseudo-explanation.1Against this .. (shrink)

Augustin est bien connu comme défenseur d’une « théorie privative » du mal. On peut lire, par exemple, dans les Confessions que « le mal n’est que la privation du bien, à la limite du pur néant ». Le problème, cependant, avec les théories privatives du mal est qu’elles ne nous offrent pas, généralement, une explication robuste ni de l’activité du mal, ni de son pouvoir à causer des effets bien réels ; effets desquels l’expérience demande, malgré tout, une (...) explication rationnelle. Or, selon Augustin, la privation seule ne permet pas de rendre compte de toutes les manifestations du mal. L’explication privative du mal est, certes, la plus étudiée par la littérature ; mais elle ne constitue qu’une partie du tableau. Cet article veut souligner quatre moments de l’explication du mal qu’Augustin propose : le mal comme privation ; le mal comme parasite par rapport à l’être ; le mal comme perversion de la volonté ; et finalement, le mal comme conflit d’intérêts. Chacun de ces moments éclaire un type de mal, mais aucun ne permet à lui seul de rendre compte du problème. Pris ensemble, cependant, et gardant leurs différences respectives à l’esprit, la réponse d’Augustin à la question du mal se révèle beaucoup plus sophistiquée et exhaustive qu’on ne voudrait souvent l’admettre lorsqu’on se limite uniquement à la théorie de la privation. | : Augustine is well-known for advocating a ‘privation theory’ of evil. In Confessions, he writes that “evil has no existence except as a privation of good, down to that level which is altogether without being.” The problem with privation theories of evil generally is that they do not provide a robust enough account of the activity and power of evil to cause the very real effects for which experience demands a rational explanation. For Augustine, however, privation alone does not fully account for evil in all of its manifestations. The privation account of evil receives much scholarly treatment, but it is only part of the complete Augustinian picture. This paper outlines four accounts of evil in Augustine : evil as privation, as parasitic on being, as perversion of the will, and as conflict of interest. Each deals with a kind of evil, but none alone provides a complete account. Taken together, however, with their differences in mind, Augustine’s explanation of evil is shown to be much more sophisticated and comprehensive than is often recognised when one limits one’s understanding of Augustine’s conception of evil to the privation theory alone. (shrink)

Is there any interesting sense in which we can speak of an act as 'evil', in contrast to simply "morally bad' or "immoral"? In ordinary language, we typically judge actions as evil that somehow differ significantly, in terms of degree or intensity, from commonplace wrongdoing. If taken to an extreme, however, this view simply reduces the difference between evil and immoral acts to a mere quantitative analysis. At worst, it leads to a wholly trivial account of (...) class='Hi'>evil as just those actions we tend to regard as "really bad". In this paper, I outline a distinctively Kantian theory of evil that instead defends a fundamental qualitative difference between evil and more ordinary immoral actions, locating the main distinction in terms of the structure of the agent's will itself Broadly understood, this strategy endorses a Kantian account of "evil as dehumanization" in which a "material" -- as opposed to purely "formal" -- difference exists between the respective maxims of the immoral and the evil agent. In such instances, unlike typical cases of Kantian immoral actions, direct violation of another person's humanity qua human somehow comprises a necessary part of the "material object" of an evil agent's will. (shrink)

Schelling and Schopenhauer both operate in the German idealist tradition initiated by Kant, although both are critical of some of its developments. Schelling's interest in evil – which is at its most intense in his 1809 Freedom essay – stems from his belief that Kant's account of morality. In the Freedom essay Schelling links these theories with the traditional Christian conception of evil as a privation, and attempts by contrast to develop a concept of "radical" or "positive" (...) evil that grounds both our freedom and individual personality. Evil as folly is a corollary of the Socratic identification of virtue with knowledge. The distinguishing feature of the free-will defenses is that god is logically constrained to permit moral evil if God creates a world with moral freedom. It is consistent with such defenses that God is (in some sense) responsible for creating evil, but God's actions are all things considered justified. (shrink)

All previous solutions to the problem of evil have attempted to resolve the issue by showing that God permits them in order for a greater good. However, some contest that there are some instances in which there is no greater good, while in other cases good and evil have been distributed unjustly. I intend, in this paper, to show that if God compensates the harms of evil in the afterlife, any sort of good is enough to resolve (...) the problem of evil; even if the good is not greater than the evil nor distributed appropriately. To attain this end, I have divided the theory of compensation into a weak and a more effective account. The weak account alleges that the goodness of evils is merely based upon their compensation in the afterlife. I have proposed, in this article, a new, strong account of this theory, which considers both primary goods of evils and afterlife compensation as combined elements that can justify evils. After distinguishing the weak and strong versions of compensation, the idea is explained, and the advantages of the theory are pointed out. Finally, there are two chief objections raised against the validity of this theory, both have been mentioned and answered in this paper. (shrink)

All previous solutions to the problem of evil have attempted to resolve the issue by showing that God permits them in order for a greater good. However, some contest that there are some instances in which there is no greater good, while in other cases good and evil have been distributed unjustly. I intend, in this paper, to show that if God compensates the harms of evil in the afterlife, any sort of good is enough to resolve (...) the problem of evil; even if the good is not greater than the evil nor distributed appropriately. To attain this end, I have divided the theory of compensation into a weak and a more effective account. The weak account alleges that the goodness of evils is merely based upon their compensation in the afterlife. I have proposed, in this article, a new, strong account of this theory, which considers both primary goods of evils and afterlife compensation as combined elements that can justify evils. After distinguishing the weak and strong versions of compensation, the idea is explained, and the advantages of the theory are pointed out. Finally, there are two chief objections raised against the validity of this theory, both have been mentioned and answered in this paper. (shrink)

Evil acts are not merely wrong; they belong to a different moral category. For example, telling a minor lie might be wrong but it is not evil, whereas the worst act of gratuitous torture that you can imagine is evil and not merely wrong. But how do wrongs and evils differ? A theory or conception of evil should, among other things, answer that question. But once a theory of evil has been developed, how (...) do we defend or refute it? The most commonly used method for doing this in the literature has been to, respectively, provide pro-examples or counter-examples. While this method might be sufficient for establishing that a theory is at least a prima facie plausible theory of evil, it is often insufficient for making fine-grained distinctions between otherwise plausible theories of evil. To supplement this insufficiency I propose that we also focus on five theoretical virtues that a theory of evil should have. These virtues are: 1) meshing well with important theories of moral wrongdoing; 2) being based on a plausible moral psychology; 3) explaining the basis of our judgments about evil; 4) being able to alter, revise and expand our judgments about evil; and 5) being pitched at the right level of generality. The main result of this paper will be to show that these five theoretical virtues provide a useful analytical tool for interrogating plausible theories of evil. The secondary result will be to show that my theory of evil has these five virtues. (shrink)

This paper shows ways to develop, integrate, and transform Kant’s and Arendt’s theories on political evil into a unified Karendtian theory. Given the deep influence Kant had on Arendt’s thinking, the deep philosophical compatibility between their projects is not surprising. But the results of drawing on the resources left by both is exciting and groundbreaking with regard to both political evil in general and the challenges of modernity and totalitarianism in particular.

Seventeenth century scholastics had a rich debate about the ontological status and nature of lacks, negations, and privations. Realists in this debate posit irreducible negative entities responsible for the non-existence of positive entities. One of the first scholastics to develop a realist position on negative entities was Thomas Compton Carleton. In this paper I explain Carleton's theory of negative entities, including what it is for something to be negative, how negative entities are individuated, whether they are abstract or concrete, (...) and how they affect their subjects. I argue that for Carleton, negative entities are conceived as spatially extended simples that affect their subjects by means of spatial overlap. I also show how Carleton responds to some theological worries about his realism concerning negative entities. (shrink)

All morally wrong actions deserve some form of moral condemnation. But the degree of that condemnation is not the same in all cases. Some wrongs are so morally extreme that they seem to belong to a different category because they deserve our very strongest form of moral condemnation. For example, telling a white lie to make a friend feel better might be morally wrong, but intuitively such an act is in a different moral category to the sadistic, brutal, and violent (...) rape and torture of a child. The former act is merely wrong and not evil. In contrast, the latter act seems so morally extreme that we need to call it “evil” and not merely “wrong” if we are to do justice both to the moral seriousness of that act and the strength of our condemnation of it. The task of a theory or substantive conception of evil is to spell out what is an evil action and how it differs from a merely wrongful action. But what does a plausible substantive theory of evil look like? To explore this question, I spell out the concept of evil and illustrate four different types of substantive conceptions of evil actions: victim, perpetrator, spectator, and mixed theories. Of these four options, I argue that mixed theories are the most plausible type of theory, before investigating in detail the promising mixed theory recently defended by Matthew Kramer (2014b). Finally, in light of my analysis of Kramer’s view, I present a reformulated version of my combination theory of evil (Formosa 2008; Formosa 2013). (shrink)

ABSTRACT: “Evil is really only a privation.” This philosophical commonplace reflects an ancient solution to the problem of theodicy in one of its dimensions: is evil of such a nature that it must have God as its author? Stated in this particular way, it also reflects the commonplace identification of the real with natural being—the realm of what exists independently of human thought and perspectives—as opposed to all that is termed, by comparison, “merely subjective” and “unreal”. If (...) we stick with this way of construing the meaning of “reality”, then by the excellent arguments of the tradition we are also stuck with defending the sufficiency of privation as a response to what evil “really is”. -/- In this article, we argue against both ways of being stuck. We argue, first, that a one-sided focus upon the being of nature blocks an adequate understanding of the world we actually live in: the semiotically constituted lifeworld that is the proper locus of human realities, including moral evil. We argue, second, that the positivity of moral evil consists not only, nor even primarily, in the positivity of “action” as such, but in structures of objectivity engendered by creative reason that oppose the due end, and that involve a specific genus of pure object which we call a mystical daydream. Like any objects, these objects are communicable and formative in relation to the lifeworld, within which they in turn engender further interpretants for both those who do and those who suffer evil, thanks to the causality of signs. (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)

The Multiverse Response to the problem of evil has it that God made our universe because God makes every universe meeting a certain standard. The main problem for that response is that there’s no explanation for why God didn’t just keeping making duplicates of perfect universes. This paper introduces the ‘Multiactualities Response’, which says that God actualises every possible world that meets a certain standard of value. It avoids the corresponding problem about duplication because different propositions must always be (...) true at distinct worlds. The Multiactualities Response nevertheless has its own problem, namely that it requires the possibility of multiple actual worlds. This paper argues that if we consider spacetimes with wormholes, we have good cause to think there can be multiple metaphysically privileged present moments; given a suitable analogy between time and modality, it follows that there can be multiple metaphysically privileged (i.e. actual) worlds. This paper includes an in–depth examination of the metaphysics of both the temporal and modal cases. (shrink)

I develop and defend a sense-datum theory of perception. My theory follows the spirit of classic sense-datum theories: I argue that what it is to have a perceptual experience is to be acquainted with some sense-data, where sense-data are private particulars that have all the properties they appear to have, that are common to both perception and hallucination, that constitute the phenomenal characters of perceptual experiences, and that may be aptly described as pictures in-side one’s head. But my (...) theory also diverges from conventional sense-datum theories in some key respects: on my view, (1) sense-data are first-person presentations of neural states, (2) the sensational qualities of sense-data differ in kind from the sensible qualities of external objects, and (3) sense-data are the vehicles in virtue of which we perceive, rather than the objects that we perceive. I argue that this package of claims is appropriately labeled ‘sense-datum theory’, and that the resultant view ought to be a live contender in contemporary philosophy of perception. (shrink)

This article explores the cognitive and epistemic dimensions of a harm-centered theory of evil, as set out in Card’s The Atrocity Paradigm: A Theory of Evil. Examining testimony of both survivors and perpetrators of the 1994 Rwandan genocide helps to support, clarify, and extend Card’s view. Of particular concern are questions of recognizing evil as such, whether the demand to avoid evil sets too high a standard of control over oneself and one’s circumstances, and (...) how to understand agency within evil contexts. This article introduces the concept of ‘recognition harm’, which is an epistemic harm presupposed by and often constitutive of the kinds of intolerable harms that constitute evil, arguing that it is consistent with Card’s account. Finally, the article addresses to the application of the atrocity paradigm to chronic, enduring, systemic harms like sexism. (shrink)

Moral error theory claims that no moral sentence is (nonvacuously) true. Atheism claims that the existence of evil in the world is incompatible with, or makes improbable, the existence of God. Is moral error theory compatible with atheism? This paper defends the thesis that it is compatible against criticisms by Nicholas Sturgeon.

I begin by distinguishing four different versions of the argument from evil that start from four different moral premises that in various ways link the existence of God to the absence of suffering. The version of the argument from evil that I defend starts from the premise that if God exists, he would not allow excessive, unnecessary suffering. The argument continues by denying the consequent of this conditional to conclude that God does not exist. I defend the argument (...) against Skeptical Theists who say we are in no position to judge that there is excessive, unnecessary suffering by arguing that this defense has absurd consequences. It allows Young Earthers to construct a parallel argument that concludes that we are in no position to judge that God did not create the earth recently. In the last section I consider whether theists can turn the argument from evil on its head by arguing that God exists. I first criticize Alvin Plantinga’s theory of warrant that one might try to use to argue for God’s existence. I then criticize Richard Swinburne’s Bayesian argument to the same conclusion. I conclude that my version of the argument from evil is a strong argument against the existence of God and that several important responses to it do not defeat it. (shrink)

I argue that Leibniz's treatment of void or empty space in the appendix to his fourth letter to Clarke conflicts with the way he elsewhere treats (metaphysical) evil, insofar as he allows that God has created a world with the one kind of privation (evil), while insisting that God would not have created a world with the other kind of privation (void). I consider three respects in which the moral case might be thought to differ relevantly (...) from the physical one, and argue that none of them succeed in removing the inconsistency. Rather than denying the existence of void, Leibniz should have been led by his treatment of evil to realize that the arguments he deploys in this appendix are dubious, and that the principles to which he appeals do not rule out empty space any more than they rule out evil, darkness, cold, or any other privations. (shrink)

This book tells the story of modern ethics, namely the story of a discourse that, after the Renaissance, went through a methodological revolution giving birth to Grotius’s and Pufendorf’s new science of natural law, leaving room for two centuries of explorations of the possible developments and implications of this new paradigm, up to the crisis of the Eighties of the eighteenth century, a crisis that carried a kind of mitosis, the act of birth of both basic paradigms of the two (...) following centuries: Kantian ethics and utilitarianism. The new science of natural law carried a fresh start for ethics, resulting from a mixture of the Old and the New. It was, as suggested by Schneewind, an attempt at rescuing the content of Scholastic and Stoic doctrines on a new methodological basis. The former was the claim of existence of objective and universal moral laws; the latter was the self-aware attempt at justifying a minimal kernel of such laws facing skeptical doubt. What Bentham and Kant did was precisely carrying this strategy further on, even if restructuring it each of them around one out of two alternative basic claims. The nineteenth- and twentieth-century critics of the Enlightenment attacked both not on their alleged failure in carrying out their own projects, but precisely on having adopted Grotius’s and Pufendorf’s project. What counter-enlightenment has been unable to spell out is which alternative project could be carried out facing the modern condition of pluralism, while on the contrary, if we takes a closer look at developments in twentieth-century ethics or at on-going discussions on practical issues, we might feel inclined to believe that Grotius’s and Pufendorf’s project is as up-to-date as ever. -/- Table of Contents -/- Preface I. Fathers of the Reformation and Schoolmen 1.1. Luther: passive justice and the good deeds; 1.2. Calvin: voluntarism and predestination; 1.3. Baroque Scholasticism; 1.4. Casuistry and Institutiones morales -/- II Neo-Platonists, neo-Stoics, neo-Sceptics 2.1. Aristotelian, neo-Platonic, neo-Epicurean and neo-Cynic Humanists; 2.2. Oeconomica and the art of living; 2.3. Neo-Stoics; 2.4. Neo-Sceptics; 2.5. Moralistic literature -/- III Neo-Augustinians 3.l. The Jansenists on natura lapsa, sufficient grace, pure love; 3.2. Nicole on the impossibility of self-knowledge; 3.3. Nicole on self-love and charity; 3.4. Nicole against civic virtue, for Christian civility; 3.5. Malebranche on general laws and necessary evil; 3.6. Malebranche on Neo-Augustinianism and Platonism. -/- IV Grotius, Pufendorf and the new moral science 4.1. Grotius against Aristotle and the sceptics; 4.2. Mersenne and Gassendi; 4.3. Descartes on ethics as the last branch of philosophy’s tree; 4.4. Hobbes on scepticism and the new moral science; 4.5. Spinoza on the new moral science as a descriptive science;4.6. Locke on voluntarism and probabilism; 4.7. Pufendorf on natural law as an exact science; 4.8. Pufendorf on physical and moral entities; 10. Pufendorf on self-preservation -/- V The empiricist version of the new moral science: from Cumberland to Paley 5.1. Cumberland against Hobbesian voluntarism; 5.2. Cumberland and theological consequentialism; 5.3. Cumberland on universal benevolence and self-love; 5.4. Shaftesbury on the moral sense; 5.5. Hutcheson on natural law and moral faculties; 5.6. Gay, Brown, Paley and theological consequentialism. -/- VI The rationalist version of the new moral science: from Cudworth to Price 6.1. The Cambridge Platonists; 6.2. Shaftesbury on the moral sense; 6.3. Butler and a third way between voluntarism and scepticism; 6.4. Price and the rational character of moral truths; -/- VII Leibniz’s compromise between the new moral science and Aristotelianism 1.Leibniz against voluntarism; 2.Leibniz against the division between the physical and the moral good; 3.Leibniz on la place d’autrui and theological consequentialism; 4.Thomasius, Wolff, Crusius -/- VIII French eighteenth-century philosophers without the new moral science 8.1. The genealogy of our ideas of virtue and vice; 8.2. Maupertuis and moral arithmetic 8.3. The philosophes and the harmony of interests; 8.4. Rousseau on corruption, self-love, and virtue; 8.5. Sade on the merits of vice -/- IX Experimental moral science: Hume and Adam Smith 9.1. Mandeville’s paradox; 9.2. Hutcheson on the law of nature and moral faculties; 9.3. Hume on experimental moral philosophy and the intermediate principles; 9.4. Hume’s Law; 9.5. Hume on the fellow-feeling; 9.6. Hume on natural and artificial virtues and disinterested pleasure for utility; 9.7. Adam Smith’s anti-realist metaethics; 9.8. Adam Smith on self-deception and the paradox of happiness; 9.9. Adam Smith on sympathy and the impartial spectator; 9.10. Adam Smith on the twofold criterion for moral judgement and its paradox; 9.11. Reid on the refutation of scepticism and the self-evidence of duty -/- X Kantian ethics 10.1. Kantian metaethics: moral epistemology; 10.2. Kantian metaethics: moral ontology; 10.3. Kantian metaethics: moral psychology; 10.4. Kantian normative ethics; 10.5. Kant on the impracticability of applied ethics; 10.6. Kantian moral anthropology; 10.7. Civilisation and moralisation; 10.8. Theology on a moral basis and the origins of evil; 10.9. Fichte and the transformation of theoretical philosophy into practical philosophy XI Bentham and utilitarianism 11.1. Bentham’s linguistic theory; 11.2. Bentham’s moral ontology, psychology, and theory of action; 11.3. The principle of greatest happiness; 11.4. The critique of religious ethics; 11.5. The new morality; 11.6. Interest and duty; 11.7. Virtues; 11.8. Private ethics and legislation -/- XII Followers of the Enlightenment: liberal Judaism and Liberal Theology 12.1. Mendelssohn; 12.2. Salomon Maimon; 12.3. Haskalā and liberal Judaism; 12.4. Liberal Theology. -/- XIII Counter-Enlighteners 13.1.Romanticism and the fulfilment of individuality as the Summum Bonum; 13.2. Hegel on history as the making of liberty; 13.3. Hegel on the unhappy consciousness and the beautiful soul; 13.4. Hegel on Morality and Sittlichkeit; 13.5. Marx on ideology, alienation, and praxis; 13.6. Schopenhauer on compassion; 13.7. Kierkegaard on faith beyond ethics. -/- XIV Followers of the Enlightenment: intuitionists and utilitarian 14.1 Whewell‘s criticism of utilitarianism; 14.2 Whewell on morality and the philosophy of morality; 14.3 Whewell on the Supreme Norm; 14.4 Whewell on the conflict between duties; 14.5 Mill and the proof of the principle of utility; 14.6 Mill’s eudemonistic utilitarianism; 14.7 Mill on rules -/- XV Followers of the Enlightenment: neo-Kantians and positivists 15.1. French spiritualism; 15.2. Neo-Kantians: the Marburg school; 15.3. Neo-Kantians: the Marburg school; 15.4. Comte’s positivism and the invention of altruism; 15.5. Social Darwinism; 15.6. Wundt and an ethic of humankind -/- XVI Post-enlighteners: Sidgwick 16.1. Criticism of intuitionism; 16.2. On ethical egoism; 16.3. Criticism of utilitarianism -/- XVII Post-enlighteners: Durkheim 17.1. Sociology as physics of customs; 17.2. Morality as physics of customs and as practical science; 17.3. On Kantian ethics and utilitarianism; 17.4. The variability of moralities;17.5. Social solidarity as end and justification of morality; 17.6. Secular morality as “sociodicy”; XVIII Post-enlighteners: Nietzsche 18.1. On the Dionysian; 18.2. On the deconstruction of the world of values 18.3 On the twofold genealogy of moralities; 18.4. On ascetics and nihilism; 18.5. Normative ethics of self-fulfilment -/- Bibliography / Index of names / Index of concepts -/- . (shrink)

The problem of evil is a well-known subject in philosophy, especially in philosophy of religion. In fact many thinkers hold that the problem of evil is the most potent rational objection to the theistic belief and has been called the rock of atheism and are being introduced as a recently emerging notion. This paper shows that this problem was proposed and discussed many years ago by Zoroastrian scholars. This paper also studies the solutions proposed by those scholars; And (...) with the help of some theories from Islamic theosophists, the existence of the two sources of good and evil in Mezdayasnian creed has been compared with the concepts of Attributes of Beauty and Glory. In this way, it has been shown that with the help of responses from the Khorasan school to the problem of evil, the Zoroastrian religion can be considered as a creed of Unity. (shrink)

A group is often construed as one agent with its own probabilistic beliefs (credences), which are obtained by aggregating those of the individuals, for instance through averaging. In their celebrated “Groupthink”, Russell et al. (2015) require group credences to undergo Bayesian revision whenever new information is learnt, i.e., whenever individual credences undergo Bayesian revision based on this information. To obtain a fully Bayesian group, one should often extend this requirement to non-public or even private information (learnt by not all or (...) just one individual), or to non-representable information (not representable by any event in the domain where credences are held). I pro- pose a taxonomy of six types of ‘group Bayesianism’. They differ in the information for which Bayesian revision of group credences is required: public representable information, private representable information, public non-representable information, etc. Six corre- sponding theorems establish how individual credences must (not) be aggregated to ensure group Bayesianism of any type, respectively. Aggregating through standard averaging is never permitted; instead, different forms of geometric averaging must be used. One theorem—that for public representable information—is essentially Russell et al.’s central result (with minor corrections). Another theorem—that for public non-representable information—fills a gap in the theory of externally Bayesian opinion pooling. (shrink)

If a political theory of ownership is to be acceptable, it must rationally prescribe one system or model of ownership as opposed to others. Such a prescription would be rational only if strong normative arguments could be mounted to show it more desirable than its competitors. Thus, the prefatory work for such a theory would consist in the construction of viable models of ownership from which a sound choice could be made. This project would, however, be successful only (...) if originating from coherent, evaluatively neutral analyses of the concept of ownership and other related ideas. The point of this essay is to do this prefatory work. (shrink)

It has often been noted that evil – by which I mean evil in human motivation and action – is difficult to understand. We find it hard to make sense of what ‘drives’ a person to commit evil. This is not because we cannot recognise or identify with some aspect of the psychology of evil; we all experience feelings of envy, spite, cruelty, and hatred. But somehow this shared experience can seem insufficient, and we are left (...) at a loss as to how such natural, universal human motivations could have resulted in this. The aims of this paper are modest, to do no more than point in a particular direction our attempts to understand the psychology of evil. §2 is a synoptic overview of what I shall call the ‘traditional’ picture of the psychology of evil. In §3, I argue that this picture is explanatorily inadequate. §§4-6 develop the traditional picture by suggesting some resources drawn from psychoanalytic theory that can meet the explanatory challenge. My argument here is schematic, seeking only to motivate a research project. It would take a much longer exploration of these resources, providing far more psychological detail, to work out what can rightfully be called an account of the psychology of evil. §7 situates the psychology of evil in relation to ‘normal’ psychology by noting the positive functions of mental processes involved in the psychology of evil. (shrink)

A theory of time was proposed in "A theory of time", an early version of which is on PhilPapers. The idea was that the A-series features of a physical system are ontologically private, and this was given a mathematical definition. Also B-series features are ontologically public. This brief note is a detailed rumination on path-integrals and Schrodinger's Cat, in this theory.

In recent years we may observe increasing interest in the development of social innovation both regarding theory as well as the practice of responding to social problems and challenges. One of the crucial challenges at the beginning of the 21st century is population ageing. Various new and innovative initiatives, programs, schemes, and projects to respond to negative consequences of this demographic process are emerging around the world. However, social theories related to ageing are still insufficiently combined with these new (...) practices, social movements, organisational models, and institutions. Many scholars are still using notions and tools from classical theories of social gerontology or the sociology of ageing such as disengagement theory, activity theory, and successful and productive ageing. Such theories do not sufficiently explain ageing in the context of, for example, a broad use of the information and communications technologies including robotics and automation, new healthcare and long-term care models, advancements in the development and governance of age-friendly environments, and public engagement of older adults into co-production of services delivered by public, private, non-governmental as well as non-formal entities. (shrink)

Moral reasoning traditionally distinguishes two types of evil:moral (ME) and natural (NE). The standard view is that ME is the product of human agency and so includes phenomena such as war,torture and psychological cruelty; that NE is the product of nonhuman agency, and so includes natural disasters such as earthquakes, floods, disease and famine; and finally, that more complex cases are appropriately analysed as a combination of ME and NE. Recently, as a result of developments in autonomous agents in (...) cyberspace, a new class of interesting and important examples of hybrid evil has come to light. In this paper, it is called artificial evil (AE) and a case is made for considering it to complement ME and NE to produce a more adequate taxonomy. By isolating the features that have led to the appearance of AE, cyberspace is characterised as a self-contained environment that forms the essential component in any foundation of the emerging field of Computer Ethics (CE). It is argued that this goes someway towards providing a methodological explanation of why cyberspace is central to so many of CE's concerns; and it is shown how notions of good and evil can be formulated in cyberspace. Of considerable interest is how the propensity for an agent's action to be morally good or evil can be determined even in the absence of biologically sentient participants and thus allows artificial agents not only to perpetrate evil (and fort that matter good) but conversely to `receive' or `suffer from' it. The thesis defended is that the notion of entropy structure, which encapsulates human value judgement concerning cyberspace in a formal mathematical definition, is sufficient to achieve this purpose and, moreover, that the concept of AE can be determined formally, by mathematical methods. A consequence of this approach is that the debate on whether CE should be considered unique, and hence developed as a Macroethics, may be viewed, constructively,in an alternative manner. The case is made that whilst CE issues are not uncontroversially unique, they are sufficiently novel to render inadequate the approach of standard Macroethics such as Utilitarianism and Deontologism and hence to prompt the search for a robust ethical theory that can deal with them successfully. The name Information Ethics (IE) is proposed for that theory. Itis argued that the uniqueness of IE is justified by its being non-biologically biased and patient-oriented: IE is an Environmental Macroethics based on the concept of data entity rather than life. It follows that the novelty of CE issues such as AE can be appreciated properly because IE provides a new perspective (though not vice versa). In light of the discussion provided in this paper, it is concluded that Computer Ethics is worthy of independent study because it requires its own application-specific knowledge and is capable of supporting a methodological foundation, Information Ethics. (shrink)

Libertarian theories of justice hold that agents, at least initially, own themselves fully, and thus owe no service to others, except through voluntary action. The most familiar libertarian theories are right-libertarian in that they hold that natural resources are initially unowned and, under a broad range of realistic circumstances, can be privately appropriated without the consent of, or any significant payment to, the other members of society. Leftlibertarian theories, by contrast, hold that natural resources are owned by the members of (...) society in some egalitarian manner, and may be appropriated only with their permission, or with a significant payment to them. Left-libertarian theories have been propounded for over two centuries[i], but in recent years there has been a revival of interest in them. Theories roughly of this sort have been explored by Kolm [1985, 1986] and Gibbard [1976], advocated by Steiner [1994], Grunebaum [1987], and Van Parijs [1995], and criticized by Cohen [1995]. (shrink)

This paper starts from first principles of moral nihilism and determinism and arrives at a basis for morality and government which, unlike Human Rights, addresses the moral status of other species. It suggests a moral system that abandons the assumptions of objectivity, moral agency, and free will, and goes on to explore the implications of such a theory in the areas of criminal justice and government. As with any moral philosophy, it endeavors to provide a structure of principles that (...) both supports our moral intuitions and provides guidance in those cases in which we either have no convictions or possess only weak or contradictory ones. (shrink)

• It would be a moral disgrace for God (if he existed) to allow the many evils in the world, in the same way it would be for a parent to allow a nursery to be infested with criminals who abused the children. • There is a contradiction in asserting all three of the propositions: God is perfectly good; God is perfectly powerful; evil exists (since if God wanted to remove the evils and could, he would). • The religious (...) believer has no hope of getting away with excuses that evil is not as bad as it seems, or that it is all a result of free will, and so on. Piper avoids mentioning the best solution so far put forward to the problem of evil. It is Leibniz’s theory that God does not create a better world because there isn’t one — that is, that (contrary to appearances) if one part of the world were improved, the ramifications would result in it being worse elsewhere, and worse overall. It is a “bump in the carpet” theory: push evil down here, and it pops up over there. Leibniz put it by saying this is the “Best of All Possible Worlds”. That phrase was a public relations disaster for his theory, suggesting as it does that everything is perfectly fine as it is. He does not mean that, but only that designing worlds is a lot harder than it looks, and determining the amount of evil in the best one is no easy matter. Though humour is hardly appropriate to the subject matter, the point of Leibniz’s idea is contained in the old joke, “An optimist is someone who thinks this is the best of all possible worlds, and a pessimist thinks.. (shrink)

The intersection between virtue and care ethics is underexplored in contemporary moral philosophy. This thesis approaches care ethics from a neo-Aristotelian virtue ethical perspective, comparing the two frameworks and drawing on recent work on care to develop a theory thereof. It is split into seven substantive chapters serving three major argumentative purposes, namely the establishment of significant intertheoretical agreement, the compilation and analysis of extant and new distinctions between the two theories, and the synthesis of care ethical insights with (...) neo-Aristotelianism to generate a virtue ethical theory of care. In the first two chapters, I outline virtue ethics and care ethics, and argue for considerable agreement over central premises. Chapter 2 summarises the foundational commitments of care ethics, focusing particularly on their relational ontology and its links to the other ethical claims care ethicists universally ascribe to, namely particularism, partialism, the moral salience of emotions, and the rejection of hard public/private distinctions. Chapter 3 lays out the central concepts in neo-Aristotelian virtue ethics, including eudaimonism, virtue, and character traits, and drawing a number of comparisons between virtue and care ethics specifically with regard to relational ontology and the meta-ethical commitments it underpins. In addition to doing the necessary expository work for the remainder of the thesis, Chapters 2 and 3 also argue that care ethics and virtue ethics have much more in common than is typically acknowledged – the first major contribution of this thesis to the literature. Chapters 2 and 3 to provide at least a prima facie justification for pursuit of the questions I confront in the remainder of the thesis. In Chapter 4, I ask what differentiates these two ethical theories. I survey some of the differences which philosophers in either camp have identified and offer some of my own. I suggest that several of those differences either rest on misunderstandings of one ethic or the other, or that in erecting a divide between virtue and care ethics they also disunify ethics of care. I do, however, identify two differences which seem defensible. Specifically, they are that virtue ethics seems to lack an account of care, which I define minimally as a response or responsiveness to need, and that virtue and care ethics organise their meta-ethical and normative concepts differently. This chapter thus presents a second contribution to the literature: a study of the differences between virtue ethics and care ethics. It also serves to set the trajectory for the remaining chapters, where I respond to the claim that virtue ethics lack an account of care. I spend the remainder of the thesis constructing what I take to be a satisfying foundation for a virtue ethical theory of care. In Chapter 5, I offer three initially viable means of incorporating care into virtue ethics, all of which treat care as a virtue. These are the analogical approach, according to which care is analogous to an existing virtue; the additive approach, according to which care is a novel virtue; and the bundling approach, according to which care is a bundle of virtues. I also offer and evaluate reasons to reject the claim that care is a virtue, concluding that the claim is indeed a viable one so long as the concept of care is sufficiently thick, and I contend that analogical approaches, and particularly analogies with charity, outperform the others. Chapter 5 therefore serves two ends. First, it proffers a novel meta-analysis of concepts of care as a virtue, and thus makes a third contribution to the literature. In doing so, it makes an inroad into the second: the development of a neo-Aristotelian theory of care. Chapter 6 continues this project. I attempt to show how care can be construed as an act-type and a practice. I argue in this chapter that practices are a subcategory of actions, and that care qualifies as an Anscombean act-type which aims at the meeting of needs relating to the care-recipient’s flourishing. I go on to consider the implications of this account for ethics which deploy care as a moral concept, maintaining that it not only offers a better account of consequences than theories of care which include success criteria, but also that it affords us interesting insights into the distinction between ‘caring about’ and ‘caring for’ which allow us to make sense of certain tenets of neo-Aristotelianism. This represents a contribution to both discourses, since neither care nor virtue ethicists working at the intersection of their respective normative theories have delved very deeply into the philosophy of action. Chapter 7 discusses caring relations, suggesting that a virtue ethical theory of caring relations can lean on the work care ethicists have done, and adding some necessary refinements, such as a distinction between ideal and non-ideal caring relations, and a theory of caring relations as reasons for action. This final chapter also draws these three concepts of care together by arguing that virtuous caregivers who are invested in the flourishing of those for whom they care are also sensitive to the relations those care-recipients bear to their institutional environment. I argue that because they are caring participants in caring relations, virtuous agents are characteristically motivated by states of need and dependency to engage in certain sorts of conventionally political practices. In other words, the virtue or virtues of caring characteristically manifest in certain sorts of political or social practices, relating specifically to those areas of moral life. This allows us to build upon recent work in feminist virtue ethics of the sort offered by Tessman and Friedman. I also offer a novel analysis of migration, suggesting that the account of care presenting here is analytically useful both when it comes to historical cases of migration such as the underground railroads and escapes from Nazi-occupied Europe, but also for contemporary issues such as the migrations occurring in the Southern United States and in much of Europe. I thus conclude not only that virtue ethicists ought to incorporate care into their normative framework, and that the theory of care presented here is a coherent one, but that this leads us naturally into applied topics such as virtue politics. I conclude the thesis by considering some its implications and by identifying some further avenues for research. (shrink)

This essay suggests that Continental Studies of Evil need a more global approach in thinking about political evils of today. Highlighting the need for a more comparative and global perspective, I explore two proposals: first, the in-between space of the geographical binaries of East/West and Global South/Global North cultivates many political evils. Second, taking issue with the conviction in Continental philosophy that the Holocaust caused a rupture in the thinking of evil, I argue for the continuity of evils (...) and characterize the insistence on the unprecedented character of the Holocaust as an example of Eurocentrism. (shrink)

In 1 Peter 1:3-7 we read that the Christians were facing persecution because of their faith and the author reminds them that every trial is a test of their faith. The trials and consequential suffering can be withstood because they are able to look forward to an inheritance – eternal life with God. Christians can endure all trials and suffering because of the hope of glory and ultimate joy. There is a grace afforded by God in the presence to match (...) whatever trial or suffering they might face. Thus it appears that there is both a purpose – one being the testing, transforming and purifying of one’s faith and a great prize for those who endure suffering – the Lord himself rewarding us. It is with this thought I will end this essay - with this belief of an inheritance, a resurrection and the gift of immortality. However, I will not shun asking the difficult questions, nor will I avoid critical reflection and analysis of a number of the contradictory or unpleasant answers. I will not eschew the lack of answers relating to evil and suffering – the pains of the scourges of poverty, persecution and oppression, the ravages of war and natural disasters, and all the inequity and injustice that has fallen throughout history – often on the innocent. This wickedness and agony that has throughout history indiscriminately befallen Christians and non-believers alike, has initiated great dismay, depression and consternation for many and some have even rejected the concept of God and the Gospel because of the malevolence and affliction they have been subjected to. The horrendous profundity and extent of human suffering and the history of the inhumanity of people makes the idea of a loving Creator seem quite implausible and predisposes many to accept a naturalistic theory of religion. At the end of this essay I will attempt to show that the declarations that the writer of 1 Peter makes concerning the Christian’s inheritance and suffering proffers some expectation for those who are faced with the quandary of evil and offer some hope now to enable them to endure whatever life has thrown onto their journey. Whilst I will with candour endeavour to query the issues and questions relating to evil I am conscious of the fact that many books and essays have been written by vastly more erudite authors. Consequently I acknowledge that what I have to say is ultimately nothing more than the personal reflection birthed in my own life’s experiences and learning. (shrink)

Proper functionalism explicates epistemic warrant in terms of the function and normal functioning of the belief-forming process. There are two standard substantive views of the sources of functions in the literature in epistemology: God (intelligent design) or Mother Nature (evolution by natural selection). Both appear to confront the Swampman objection: couldn’t there be a mind with warranted beliefs neither designed by God nor the product of evolution by natural selection? Is there another substantive view that avoids the Swampman objection? There (...) are two. The first is the generalized selected-effects theory of functions. The second is the organizational theory of functions. Both, however, require some history to assign functions, for both are etiological theories of functions: past effects help explain current function. Swampman can then acquire functions, perhaps soon after creation, though he has none at the moment of inception. (shrink)

There is a close systematic relationship between panentheism, as a metaphysical theory about the relation between God and the world, and transhumanism, the ethical demand to use the means of the applied sciences to enhance both human nature and the environment. This relationship between panentheism and transhumanism provides a ‘cosmic’ solution to the problem of evil: on panentheistic premises, the history of the world is the one infinite life of God, and we are part of the one infinite (...) divine being. We ourselves are therefore responsible for the future development of the life of the divine being. We should therefore use the means provided by the natural sciences to develop the history of the world in such a way that the existence of evil shall be overcome and shall no longer be part of the divine being in whom we move and live and have our being. The metaphysics of panentheism leads to the ethics of transhumanism. (shrink)

The theories of Locke, Hume and Kant dominate contemporary philosophical discourse on property rights. This is particularly true of applied ethics, where they are used to settle issues from biotech patents to managerial obligations. Within these theories, however, the usual criticisms of private property aren’t even as much as intelligible. Locke, Hume and Kant, I argue, develop claims about property on a model economy that I call “Frontier Town.” They and contemporary authors then apply these claims to capitalist economies. There (...) are two problems with this application: First, we’ll be considering the wrong kind of property: The only property in Frontier Town are means of life. Critics, however, object to property in concentrated capital because they associate only this kind of property with economic coercion and political power. Second, the two economies differ in central features, so that very different claims about empirical consequences and hence about fairness and merit will be plausible for each. This second problem, I argue, is a consequence of the first. I conclude that Frontier Town theories are more likely to distort than to illuminate property issues in capitalist economies. (shrink)

This chapter corrects for Susan Sontag's undeserved neglect by contemporary ethical philosophers by bringing awareness to some of the unique metaethical insights born of her reflections on photographic representations of evil. I argue that Sontag's thought provides fertile ground for thinking about: (1) moral perception and its relation to moral knowledge; and (2) the epistemic and moral value of our emotional responses to the misery and suffering of others. I show that, contrary to standard moral perception theory (e.g. (...) Blum 1994), Sontag holds that we can have general moral perceptual knowledge. I then explore Sontag's idea that certain emotional responses, like sympathy and compassion, can sometimes be impertinent, in virtue of their having false or illusory content. I explain why this is so, and show the epistemic and motivational problems it poses for moral sentimentalism. (shrink)

This paper presents affirmation as the central normative category of Nietzsche’s positive ethics. The paper argues in particular for two interpretive claims: first, that from Beyond Good and Evil onwards, we find a new variety of Nietzschean affirmation (‘natural affirmation’), which is crucial to the strategy of his later works; and second, for reasons internal to his own philosophical aims, Nietzsche’s new variety of affirmation is seriously flawed. The author argues for the second claim on the basis that Nietzsche (...) himself requires that affirmation not perform exactly the role he requires that it perform. The author contends that we are thus faced with a major challenge to Nietzsche’s late philosophical project—that (late) Nietzschean affirmation fails by Nietzsche’s own standards. (shrink)

In this paper I argue against two prevailing views of Kant’s Religion. Against commentators such as Michalson and Quinn, who have argued that Kant’s project in Religion is riddled with inconsistencies and circularities, I show that a proper understanding of Kant’s views on grace reveals these do not exist. And contra commentators that attribute to Kant at best a minimalist conception of grace, I show that Kant’s view of it is remarkably robust. I argue that Kant works with three different (...) conceptions of grace. These are: a) grace and the God within, b) grace and the transformation of the fundamental orientation, and c) grace that can be laid hold of; the first and the last play a significant role in his philosophy of religion. (shrink)

The concept of self has preeminently been asserted (in its many versions) as a core component of anti-reductionist, antinaturalistic philosophical positions, from Descartes to Husserl and beyond, with the exception of some hybrid or intermediate positions which declare rather glibly that, since we are biological entities which fully belong to the natural world, and we are conscious of ourselves as 'selves', therefore the self belongs to the natural world (this is characteristic e.g. of embodied phenomenology and enactivism). Nevertheless, from Cudworth (...) and More’s attacks on materialism all the way through twentieth-century argument against naturalism, the gulf between selfhood and the world of Nature appears unbridgeable. In contrast, my goal in this paper is to show that early modern materialism could yield a theory of the self according to which (1) the self belongs to the world of external relations (Spinoza), such that no one fact, including supposedly private facts, is only accessible to a single person; (2) the self can be reconstructed as a sense of “organic unity” which could be a condition for biological individuality (a central text here is Diderot’s 1769 Rêve de D’Alembert); yet this should not lead us to espouse a Romantic concept of organism as foundational or even ineffable subjectivity (a dimension present in Leibniz and made explicit in German idealism); (3) what we call 'self' might simply be a dynamic process of interpretive activity undertaken by the brain. This materialist theory of the self should not neglect the nature of experience, but it should also not have to take at face value the recurring invocations of a better, deeper “first-person perspective” or “first-person science.”. (shrink)

Nozick’s entitlement theory of justice has its major attempts to defend the institution of private property and to criticize the redistributive measures on the part of government. Nozick frowns at Rawls’ approach and the approach of welfare economics, which focused on evaluating only current time-slices of a distribution with no concern about the procedural aspects of justice. His notion of distributive justice has its anchorage on the account of what and how a given person is entitled to in virtue (...) of what he has acquired and earned. While Rawls, whose position seems incompatible with that of Nozick holds a notion of justice on the account of the equality of the claims of each person in respect of basic needs and of the means to meet such needs. Nozick’s theory is a reaction against Rawls’ notion of distributive justice which he terms patterned, and of which he feels if upheld would consistently interfere with individual’s rights. This paper therefore argues that contrary to what Robert Nozick seems to suggest we do not see his theory as all satisfying nor any alternative, rather we are convinced that the inherent merits of his theory would suitably complement other patterned theories of distributive justice. This paper employed the expository method as well as critical analysis and prescriptive methods. (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)

Stephen Law developed a challenge to theism, known as the evil-god challenge (Law (2010) ). The evil-god challenge to theism is to explain why the theist’s responses to the problem of evil are any better than the diabolist’s – who believes in a supremely evil god – rejoinders to the problem of good, when all the theist’s ploys (theodicy, sceptical theism, etc.) can be parodied by the diabolist. In the first part of this article, I extend (...) the evil-god challenge by showing that additional theist replies to the problem of evil (more theodicies, the privation view of evil, and others) also may be appropriated, with just as much plausibility, in support of the diabolist position. In the second part of the article, I defend the evil-god challenge against several objections. (shrink)

There is a tension between John Locke’s awareness of the fundamental importance of a shared public language and the manner in which his theorizing appears limited to offering a psychologistic account of the idiolects of individual speakers. I argue that a correct understanding of Locke’s central notion of signification can resolve this tension. I start by examining a long standing objection to Locke’s view, according to which his theory of meaning systematically gets the subject matter of our discourse wrong, (...) by making our ideas the meanings of our words. By examining Locke’s definition of “truth”, I show that Lockean signification is an expression relation, rather than a descriptive or referential relation. Consequently, the sense in which our words signify our ideas is roughly that our utterances advertise our otherwise undisclosed mental lives to each other. While this resolves one aspect of the public/private tension, I close with a brief discussion of the remaining tension, and the role for normative constraints on signification to play in generating a genuinely shared public language. (shrink)

Arguments concerning the nature of natural evil vary in their conclusions depending on the particular approach with which they commence inquiry; one of the most contested conclusions regards evil as privation, sourcing its justification primarily from Aquinas’ metaphysical conception of good as being and evil as non-being. It should be of no surprise, then, that the dismissal of natural evil’s privative nature comes about when the understanding of natural evil favours a phenomenological approach rather (...) than a metaphysical one. Proponents of said dismissal generally centre their claims around the notion of pain and suffering as substantially contentful – as in, non-privative – experiences of evil. On the other hand, theorists espousing the privation account generally argue that characterisations of pain and suffering as necessarily evil do not consider the context of orientation towards individual wellbeing within which pain/suffering experiences naturally function. Furthermore, some of the arguments for the privation account’s dismissal seem to disregard completely the Thomistic sense of the form and hierarchy of the good, which ends up straw-manning the privation account to a point where it can no longer reconcile the awfulness of experienced pain and suffering with these experiences not being necessarily evil. The importance of understanding this Thomistic sense is further emphasised in its capacity to explain why a divine and fully good Creator would involve the world with such evil. Thus, this paper first considers the account of evil given in question one of Aquinas’ De malo, along with contemporary arguments for the nature and purpose of evil as privation; second, these are then used as resources to help make sense of, one, the general nature of pain and suffering, and two, some of their specific expressions as found in disease and depression, and throughout evolutionary history. (shrink)

This paper proposes an interpretation of time that incorporates both McTaggart's A-series and his B-series, and attempts to cast it in a way that might be usable by physicists. This interpretation allows one to reconcile special relativity with temporal becoming as the latter is understood as 'ontologically private', which is given a mathematical definition. This allows one to define a unit of becoming, as well as the rates of becoming. This paper gives a picture of this interpretation and applies a (...) rough outline of the concepts to several test cases. (shrink)