The goal of standard semantics is to provide truth conditions for the sentences of a given language. Probabilistic Semantics does not share this aim; it might be said instead, if rather cryptically, that Probabilistic Semantics aims to provide belief conditions.

The central and guiding idea of Probabilistic Semantics is that each rational individual has ‘within’ him or her a personal subjective probability function. The output of the function when given a certain sentence as input represents the degree of likelihood which the individual would assign to that sentence. One can characterize these functions via a set of axioms, and in the terms of this defined structure develop probabilistic analogues of all important semantical notions (e.g. validity, entailment). Then, dealing with ‘being given probability 1’ instead of ‘truth,’ one can proceed to give a completely adequate semantics for the particular language under consideration. The axioms delimiting the class of probability functions are, in fact, chosen with this goal and language in mind.

Recent developments in game theory have shown that the mathematical models of action so widely admired in the study of economics are in fact only particular instantiations of a more general theoretical framework. In the same way that Aristotelian logic was ‘translated’ into the more general and expressive language of predicate logic, the basic action theoretic underpinnings of modern economics have now been articulated within the more comprehensive language of game theory. But precisely because of its greater generality and expressive power, game theory has again revived the temptation to apply formal models of action to every domain of social life. This movement has been fuelled by some notable successes. Game theory has provided useful insights into the logic of collective action in the theory of public goods, and strategic models of voting have illustrated important aspects of institutional decision-making. But this extension of formal models into every area of social interaction has also encountered significant difficulties, despite the fact that contemporary decision theory has weakened its basic assumptions to the point where it teeters constantly on the brink of vacuity.

Scheffler's paper divides into two parts. In the first, he argues that Parfit's argument from the complex view of personal identity neither can, nor is intended to, establish any moral theory; in particular, it cannot establish utilitarianism. Rather, Parfit's aim must have been simply to weaken our attachment to non-utilitarian theories. In discovering that the only philosophically respectable view of personal identity holds it to consist simply in bodily or psychological continuities and connections, we come to see that the distinctness of persons is a less deep fact than we naively supposed that it was. And this weakens the attraction of moral theories which take the distinctness of persons as fundamental and reject utilitarianism on that account. Scheffler points out that Parfit's argument cannot establish, nor can it be extended to establish, anything stronger than this. For the complex view can only rule out nonutilitarian theories if it simply denies that in any sense persons exist over time. But this view rules out not only non-utilitarian moral theories, but every moral theory.

This paper examines Catharine Trotter Cockburn’s moral philosophy, focusing on her accounts of virtuous conduct, conscience, obligation, and moral character. I argue that Cockburn’s account of virtue has two interlocking parts: a view of what virtue requires of us, and a view of how we come to see this requirement as authoritative. I then argue that while the two parts are ultimately in tension with one another, the tension is instructive. I use Cockburn’s encounter with Shaftesbury’s writings to help bring out this tension in her thought. I conclude that Cockburn’s work marks a bridge in modern moral philosophy from seventeenth-century natural law theory to the naturalism of the eighteenth century— that of Gay, Hume, and Bentham.

Most of Spinoza’s arguments for God’s existence do not rely on any special feature of God, but instead on merely general features of substance. This raises the following worry: those arguments prove the existence of non-divine substances just as much as they prove God’s existence, and yet there is not enough room in Spinoza’s system for all these substances. I argue that Spinoza attempts to solve this problem by using a principle of plenitude to rule out the existence of other substances and that the principle cannot be derived from the PSR, as many claim.

Abbreviation: PSR: Principle of Sufficient Reason

According to Nietzsche, both modern individuals and societies are pathologically fragmented. In this paper, I examine how he proposes we combat this affliction in his Untimely Meditations. I argue that he advocates a dual struggle involving both instrumental domination and eradication. On these grounds, I claim the following: 1. pace a growing number of commentators, we cannot categorise the species of conflict he endorses in the Untimely Meditations as agonistic; and 2. this conflict is better understood as analogous to the species of struggle that Schopenhauer describes in his account of purposive organisation.

Suppose we are able to transplant Jones's pain centres into Smith's brain. Half way through the operation we test the pain centres by stimulating them electrically in vitro. Would there be pain? Roland Puccetti argues that there would not be. Because (a) pains must have owners and (b) the only available candidate for that role — the excised tissue — is logically unfit to play it. He concludes that the firing of such centres in a normally functioning brain cannot be pain either and that, therefore, materialism is false.

So far as I can see, Puccetti's “refutation” is a series of nonsequiturs from start to finish, and that is what I mainly want to show. It will not follow, of course, that materialism is true. Indeed, I think the view which Puccetti attacks under that name is too naive to be taken seriously by anyone.

Mental imagery often occurs during testimonial belief transmission: a testifier often episodically remembers or imagines a scene while describing it, while a listener often imagines that scene as it’s described to her. I argue that getting clear on imagery’s psychological roles in testimonial belief transmission has implications for some fundamental issues in the epistemology of testimony. I first appeal to imagery cases to argue against a widespread ‘internalist’ approach to the epistemology of testimony. I then appeal to the same sort of case to argue for an alternative, externalist view.

One of the deepest and most abiding of Pierre Bayle's philosophical preoccupations concerns the possibility of rational theology, or more specifically, the extent to which unaided reason is competent to secure the fundamental tenets of orthodox Christianity. Doubtless the most familiar aspect of this intellectual ‘obsession’ is his tenacious criticism of traditional Solutions to the problem of evil. Yet these discussions represent only one facet of Bayle's engagement with the complex issues involved in the question of rational theology. Throughout the Historical and Critical Dictionary and in subsequent works, three issues in particular figure prominently in Bayle's discussions: the existence of a transcendent, immaterial God, the immortality of the soul, and mind-body dualism. These topics are, of course, interrelated, and Bayle rarely treats them in complete isolation. Although his official position is explicitly fideistic, there is reason to believe that Bayle was a reluctant skeptic, who was naturally sympathetic with the metaphysical dogmatism of Descartes and Malebranche.

In the history of thought the relation between the mind and the body has been discussed in terms of various analogies. Plato, for example, examined the analogy of a man and his clothes and of the music of an instrument and the instrument itself; Aristotle advocated the analogy of an instrument's capacity and the instrument itself; Descartes alluded to that of a pilot and his ship; and Ryle derided that of a ghost and a machine.

What I wish to discuss, however, are the analogies used by contemporary philosophers to explain their theory that the mind is the brain, that the mind's states, capacities and qualities are the brain's states, capacities and qualities, that our thoughts and our thinking are brain elements and brain movements and that our mental experiences, such as having images or sensations, are brain processes. Various analogies have been advanced to explain the sense in which one of the former is one of the latter.

After he has been condemned to death, Socrates spends a few minutes talking to the jurors before he is taken away. First, he rebukes those who voted against him for resorting to using the court to kill him when they could have waited and let nature do the same job very soon anyhow, for Socrates is an old man (38C). He next contrasts the evils to which his accusers have resorted to his own unbending resolve never to resort to shameful actions, even though in this case such things might have saved his life (38D-39B; cf. 348-350). Then he prophesies to those jurors that younger men will make their lives far more difficult than ever Socrates did, and thus strips from them any notion they may have had that they gained anything by condemning him.

According to one understanding of them, Tarskian principles about truth (and falsity) aim to explicate the core of the classical conception of truth (and falsity), as endorsed by Aristotle and others:

Timothy Williamson famously offered an argument from these Tarskian principles in favour of bivalence — the contention that whatever says something is either true or false — to the effect that denying bivalence in particular cases classically entails a contradiction. This has played a crucial role in the reception of Williamson's case against the main alternative classical view of the nature of vagueness, supervaluationism, and thus in favor of his own epistemic view.

There is a certain view of religion, deriving from Wittgenstein’s thought, that might be called the language-game view of religion. It has many parts, but in essence it holds–in its own terms–that religion is a language-game (or cluster of languagegames) in fact engaged in by men; or, what seems to be an alternative way of saying the same thing, or very nearly the same. thing, religion is a form of life participated in by men. As such it is in order. Although one needs to enter into the torm ot lite and engage in the language-game to learn its grammar or logic and to see the order that it has. For its order has internal criteria: what count as, e.g., rational and meaningful within religion are determined not by criteria appropriate to physics or chess playing but by criteria appropriate to religion as it is lived by the religious.

In 1988, Michael Nyman composed the score for Peter Greenaway's film Drowning by Numbers (or did something that we would ordinarily think of as composing that score). We can think of Nyman's compositional activity as a ‘generative performance’ and of the sound structure that Nyman indicated (or of some other abstract object that is appropriately related to that sound structure) as the product generated by that performance (ix). According to one view, Nyman's score for Drowning by Numbers — the musical work — is the product generated by Nyman's compositional activity (namely, an abstract object) and, more generally, artworks are identified with the products generated by compositional or other creative activities. Let's call this view The Product Theory. By contrast, according to another view, Nyman's score for Drowning by Numbers is the generative performance itself (namely, Nyman's compositional activity) and, more generally, artworks are identified with generative performances themselves.

I shall argue in this paper that extant definitions of causality are incorrect since they do not cohere in the proper way with the concept of a cause of the universe. This lack of coherence is twofold. (i) For some extant definitions of a cause, there are possible instances of the concept of a cause of the universe that do not satisfy the definitions. (ii) For these or other extant definitions, there are entities or occurrences (in some possible world) that are not instances of the concept of a cause of the universe but that count as causes of the universe according to the definitions. This failure of coherence between extant definitions of causality and the concept of a cause of the universe entails either that there is some other (as yet unformulated) definition of a cause that is correct or that causality is indefinable. I shall suggest in the conclusion of this paper that it is more plausible to believe that causality is indefinable.

Direct comparison of the ostensibly competing principles embedded in rival theories of Justice is often complicated by differences of view as to the nature and scope of the concrete Judgments a theory of Justice must attempt to illumine. Aristotle's official view, for example, is that Justice is a disposition or character trait. This commits him to scrutiny of Judgments about the Justice of particular actions since it is actions which serve to reveal, and to help form, the disposition in question. But it also stands in the way of any proper recognition of the fact that the competing principles of Justice he examines apply in the first instance neither to actions nor to dispositions but to states of affairs or situations: actions are Just for Aristotle when they help to bring about a Just distribution.