Nous publions sous ce titre la traduction française de l'essai philosophique de Kurt Gödel intitulé: «Is Mathematics Syntax of Language?» Inédit jusqu'à présent, l'original paraîtra dans le 3e volume des Collected Works de Gödel, dont la publication est imminente. Nous savons par Hao Wang que, le 15 mai 1953, Paul Arthur Schilpp avait invité Gödel à apporter sa contribution au volume consacré à Carnap dans The Library of Living Philosophers. Le manuscrit de Gödel «Carnap and the Ontology of Mathematics», devait être remis au plus tard le 2 avril 1954. Dés le 2 juillet 1953, Gödel donnait son accord à Schilpp pour la rédaction d'un article intitulé «Some Observations on the Nominalistic View of the Nature of Mathematics.» Cependant, le volume consacré à Carnap paraîtra en 1963 sans qu'y figure la contribution de Gödel. En effet — toujours selon Wang — Gödel avait informé Schilpp, le 2 février 1959, qu'il renonçait à l'envoi de l'article, dont il avait composé, surtout en 1954–1955, plusieur s versions sous le titre «Is Mathematics Syntax of Language?» Pour expliquer cet abandon, Wang avance les raisons suivantes: En premier lieu, Gödel était bien convaincu d'avoir réfuté la thése syntaxique, mais il n'était pas satisfait de son argumentation en faveur du platonisme. Deuxiémement, les critiques de Gödel s'adressent aux théses soutenues par Carnap en 1934 plutôt qu'à celles que ce dernier défendra vingt ans aprés, et qui paraissent moins hostiles au platonisme de son interlocuteur. II pouvait paraître douteux, en troisieme lieu, que Carnap ait eu le temps de rédiger, en 1959, la réponse qu'il aurait du faire, conformément aux régies de la collection, à Gödel. Or, en 1943 déjà, Gödel avait voulu retirer sa contribution au volume consacré à Russell dans la même serie, parce que ce dernier n'avait pu répondre à l'article de Gödel dont la rédaction lui avait été communiquée trop tardivement.

In Color for Philosophers, C. L. Hardin argues that chromatic objectivism—a view that identifies colour with some or other property of objects—must be false. The upshot of Hardin's argument is this: there is, in fact, no principled correlation between physical properties and perceived colours. Since that correlation is a minimal condition for objectivism, objectivism is false. Mohan Matthen, who accepts Hardin's conclusion for what can be called “simple objectivism,” takes it that an adaptationist theory of biological function applied to colour is able to surmount the problems Hardin describes. It is Matthen's view that I am primarily concerned with in this paper. I will argue that it entails an overly simple view of adaptive value—as, perhaps, do all objectivist views.

Nietzsche writes about the common temptation to take the capacity for consciousness as constituting the “kernel of man; what is abiding, eternal, ultimate, and most original in him. One takes consciousness for a determinate magnitude. One denies it growth and intermittences. One takes it for the ‘unity of the organism’.” The very description of the nature of this unified organism is indicative of reasons one might wish to believe in it. It is “abiding” and “eternal.” Nothing in the world poses a threat to its existence or survival. This temptation and Hegel's complicated response to it are the subject of this essay. In particular I will investigate the accuracy of Adorno's claims that Hegel is untrue to his own insights into the dialectical nature of the self, and that Hegel's self-betrayal is due to the the fact that “like Kant and the entire philosophical tradition including Plato, Hegel is a partisan of unity.”

Do our customary notions of shame, blame and guilt require us to adopt a particular view of the self's singularity and invariance through time? Consider the intriguing case of John Demjanjuk, tried in Israel during 1987 and 1988 for the crimes of “Ivan the Terrible,” a concentration camp guard at Treblinka in Poland, during 1942–43. John Demjanjuk, a retired factory worker living in Cleveland, Ohio, appeared banal at his trial—old, quiet, ordinary and helpless; descriptions from survivors of Treblinka cast Ivan as monstrous in his vigorous brutality. Should John be found guilty and punished for Ivan's crimes? This question takes us beyond any answers sought at the trial. Even if the spatio-temporal identity of the later John and earlier Ivan had been established conclusively, still the justice of punishing the later man for the earlier one's crimes may be questioned. For a philosophical puzzle of personal identity lingers: is the later John the same person as the earlier Ivan? In cases such as this the passage of time and radical changes of character and personality seem to invite the notion that one self or person has succeeded another in the same body. If this were so, would—or should—culpability transfer undiminished from one self to another?

David Brink has recently argued for the “parity” of ethics and the sciences. While the parity claim alone might be metaphysically neutral, Brink favours a form of ethical naturalism on which moral properties “are” natural properties, just as non-moral macrophysical properties “are” the microphysical states that compose them. Brink supports this claim by showing that both types of properties share certain important features: specifically, that both may be (and typically are) constituted, supervening and synthetically necessitated. I shall argue that notwithstanding these common features, there remain significant modal differences in the way the two types of properties are assigned to the world. These differences represent an important respect in which moral properties are not on par with their scientific counterparts.

A “hypothetical imperative” tells what to do to get a certain result. Equivalently, it says what is the “right” thing to do to achieve that result. Insofar as achieving that result is the sole end in view, wondering what is the right thing to do to achieve it just is: wondering what to do. Insofar as it is the sole end in view, deciding what is the right thing to do to achieve it is simply deciding what to do. Something's being the right thing to do to achieve a certain goal does not, of course, guarantee that it actually will succeed in achieving that goal: the meaning is only that, in the existing circumstances, it is more apt to achieve the goal than any available alternative.

Shortly before he died Alberto Coffa said he was writing “a very grumpy book.” It has turned out to be grumpy indeed, but also funny and deep and wonderful. When he began his work nearly 20 years ago he chose what must have seemed the most unpromising topic imaginable: the history of the a priori, both in the nineteenth century and especially among the logical positivists in the decade following 1925. In the early 1970s it was risky for a promising young philosopher of science to concentrate on historical topics. The nineteenth century was, with a few notable exceptions, terra incognita to analytically inclined philosophers. The positivists were pariahs. And many philosophers were convinced that there was no such thing as the a priori to be studied. Times have changed a bit, but this book still covers new territory. And though I cannot accept all of his conclusions, Coffa has much to teach, perhaps especially to those who would have found the whole investigation unpromising.

Vers la fin des années cinquante, un jeune érudit jésuite publia un article intitulé «Are Apeiria and Aoristia Synonyms?» qui allait être le premier d'une longue série de travaux portant sur une problématique à laquelle il s'attaquait en véritable pionnier: la doctrine de l'infinité divine dans l'Antiquité et au Moyen Âge. Certes, les historiens s'étaient déjà intéressés quelque peu à cette question, mais ils l'avaient fait sans une conscience claire de sa complexité. Force était donc de reprendre la problématique à nouveaux frais. C'est ce que fit Leo Sweeney, qui publiera, sur une carrière de plus de trentecinq ans, une quantité impressionnante d'articles étudiant les conditions de l'émergence de l'infinité divine au Moyen Âge, ainsi que la conception de l'infíni chez les grandes fígures de l'Antiquité et du christianisme médiéval. Ce sont ces articles, dont certains ont fait l'objet de profonds remaniements, et auxquels viennent s'ajouter deux travaux inédits, qu'a réunis l'éditeur Peter Lang dans un ouvrage de près de six cents pages, dont il faut bien dire qu'il constitue une manière d'événement dans le monde des études anciennes et médiévales.

Marjorie Hope Nicolson's The Conway Letters is, simultaneously, a work of so many different kinds, and offers itself to so many distinct cultural and intellectual constituencies, that it is difficult to include them all, and impossible to assign them priority or precedence. It is first of all, though, a delightful and important book. It has been out of print for a great many years, the original edition of 1930 long ago sold out. So its reappearance in a new edition, with extensive revisions and additions by Sarah Hutton, is very much to be applauded and welcomed.