Austin's lecture on this topic contributes little to the problem of freedom of the will, and so in my discussion of his ideas I shall stop short of the difficult part of that problem. His most important positive suggestion is that hypotheticals should be divided into two classes, conditionals and pseudo-conditionals. He claims that neglect of this distinction has been the cause of mistakes in certain forms of the dispositional analysis of the statement that an agent could have acted otherwise, and he then goes on to criticise all forms of that analysis using arguments which do not depend on the difference between the two kinds of hypothetical.

This discussion will be in two parts. In the first I shall take up Austin's distinction between conditionals and pseudos and criticise it and develop it at length, because it seems to me to be the most important thing in his lecture. Since I shall not have space for comment on fortuitous errors made by defenders of the dispositional analysis of the claim that an agent could have acted otherwise, I shall concentrate on the essential features of that analysis.

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.

We can find in the passages that set out the Master Argument a precursor to the paradox of knowability. That paradox shows that if all truths are knowable, all truths are known. Similarly, Berkeley might be read as proposing that if all sensible objects are (distinctly) conceivable, then all sensible objects are conceived.

Social kinds are heterogeneous. As a consequence of this diversity, some authors have sought to identify and analyse different kinds of social kinds. One distinct kind of social kinds, however, has not yet received sufficient attention. I propose that there exists a class of social-computation-supporting kinds, or SCS-kinds for short. These SCS-kinds are united by the function of enabling computations implemented by social groups. Examples of such SCS-kinds are reimbursement form, US dollar bill, chair of the board. I will analyse SCS-kinds, contrast my analysis with theories of institutional kinds, and discuss the benefits of investigating SCS-kinds.

Donnellan has introduced a distinction between two uses of referring terms, the referential and the attributive. A referentially used term is said to pick out that object the speaker has in mind, the one he meant or intended to refer to, while a term used attributively is said to pick out whichever object it names or denotes. While it is generally agreed that Donnellan has discovered a real difference in the way referring terms work, it has by no means been dear how the distinction could or should be handled theoretically. That has two consequences. First, intuitions diverge over difficult or marginal cases and, with no theory to appeal to, the taxonomic part of the enterprise is threatened. Second, the referential/attributive distinction has not become an accepted, relatively uncontroversial tool for solving problems about the semantics of utterances; and this is a least partly because of a lack of theory. But the distinction, so one feels, really is more important than it has thus far shown itself to be.

A view of truth that gained prominence among early logical positivists, what A.J. Ayer called the ‘redundancy theory of truth,’ has had a renaissance over the last few decades. The fundamental thought behind this theory is that the truth predicate is a device of disquotation. Redundancy, or disquotationalism, is seen by its advocates as providing a definitive answer to the perennial question ‘what is the nature of truth?’ The answer, says the disquotationalist, is to reject the idea that truth has some underlying nature. The terms true and false, as Ayer put it, connote nothing (Ayer, 1936/1946,88). They do not correspond or refer to some elusive ingredient of reality. Truth, he argued, must be deflated from its exalted metaphysical Status — but the notion should not be dispensed with altogether. Disquotationalists like Ayer think that the truth predicate has an essential role to play in logic. Indeed, disquotationalism, in its purest form, sees the sole function of the truth predicate as fulfilling this logical need, that is, as a device that aids generalization by permitting infinite conjunction and disjunction.

As it is presently employed, grounding permits grounding many things from one ground. In this paper, I show why this is a mistake by pushing for a uniqueness principle on grounding. After arguing in favor of this principle, I say something about it and kinds of grounding, discuss a similar principle, and consider its import on a formal feature of grounding, ontology, and ontological simplicity.

In a recent article Robert Paul Wolff has argued that Marx's theory of capitalist exploitation is incorrect, in that its ground is the premiss that labor is the source of all value.1 This, of course, is a well-rehearsed objection to Marx, but Wolff gives it a novel twist. He notes that the defense of this premise in the opening pages of Capital is inadequate, but he is not troubled by this ‘bad argument,’ for he sees Marx's real argument as something else: the (implicit) claim that unless labor is the source of all value, an adequate account of profit is impossible. In other words Marx is seen to be making a transcendental argument: an inquiry into the conditions for the possibility of profit. Wolff proceeds to argue that Marx goes astray here, but not so far astray that a valid transcendental argument, faithful to Marx's essential insight, cannot be charted.

A version of the principle of alternate possibilities (PAP) claims that one is only blameworthy for actions which one was able to avoid. Much of the discussion about PAP concerns Frankfurt’s counterexamples to it. After fifty years of refined debates, progress might seem hopeless. Yet, we can make headway by asking: “what’s our reason for believing PAP?” The best answer is this: lacking eligible alternatives—alternatives whose cost is not too high to reasonably opt for—is a good excuse. Yet, this principle is subject to straightforward counterexamples, unless it is given an epistemicised reading. And in this latter case, it does not support PAP. So, PAP is unsupported, at least for now.

Fatalism is a doctrine about which philosophers have by and large been in complete agreement. Even the arguments they have used to dispose of it have been remarkably constant. Yet some of these arguments are surprisingly inadequate. The purpose of this discussion is to point out a set of fallacies which are especially common in recent discussions of fatalism. Their common feature is an emphasis on the relation between fatalism and deliberation. The claim they make is that if fatalism is true, any deliberation over one's future actions is pointless. If this is not quite a refutation of fatalism by itself, it is at least a strong objection, especially when advanced ad hominem. Yet I think that it is wholly false. In the following discussion I will show how every argument intended to establish this incompatibility between fatalism and deliberation involves some fallacy.

Utilitarianism claims to be a rational moral theory in at least three ways. First, it claims to give us an objective standard of morality, a way of deciding moral issues, not in the light of what each of us happens to like or dislike, but on publicly verifiable grounds. Secondly, by offering only one criterion of morality it assures consistency. If we accept a system which invokes two or more independent principles, there is always the possibility of insoluble conflict. For example, if we take our stand on the Ten Commandments, we cannot, without divine revelation, be sure that we shall not one day find ourselves in a situation in which we must break one or other of them; and our system gives us no guide as to which we ought to break.

By an incomplete sentence we shall understand a declarative sentence that can be used, without variation in its meaning, to make different statements in different contexts. Although the point deserves supporting argument, which we will not provide, sentences whose grammatical subjects are indexical expressions or demonstratives are obvious, plausible examples of incomplete sentences. Uttered in one context the sentence ‘He is ill’ may be used to make one statement, for example, that George is ill, while in another context the very same sentence may be used to make a quite different statement, for example, that Paul is ill.

This is a reply to Donald Ainslie's discussion of Terence Penelhum's work on Hume, Locke and the nature of consciousness; although agree on many points about the differences between Locke and Hume, I take issue with Ainslie's views about the epistemic status Hume accords to introspective acts.

In his Arthur Holly Compton Memorial Lecture Sir Karl Popper tackles a problem raised by Compton himself in an earlier lecture. The problem is to understand how such abstract things as aims, purposes, rules, or agreements can influence or control the movements of men, and perhaps also of animals (p. 15). To illustrate the problem Compton had remarked on the amazing faith and confidence shown by his audience and the lecture's organizer that he should arrive on the agreed date to give the lecture, considering ‘the great physical improbability that their confidence was justified’. For

In ‘Alternate Possibilities and Moral Responsibility,’ Harry Frankfurt introduces a scenario aimed at showing that the having of alternative possibilities is not required for moral responsibility. According to the Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP), an agent is morally responsible for her action only if she could have done otherwise; Frankfurt thinks his scenario shows that PAP is, in fact, false. Frankfurt also thinks that the denial of PAP gives credence to compatibilism, the thesis that an agent could both be causally determined in all her actions and yet be morally responsible. Since its introduction, Frankfurt's original example has generated a voluminous literature, including a plethora of other, more complicated, Frankfurt-style examples (FSEs).