Here's a brief introduction to the philosophical puzzle of free will.

Atheist critiques of religious belief tend to assume that this belief is of broadly the same kind as that treated by philosophers: a disposition to take as true the content of some propositional knowledge claim. I argue here that it is not. What is primarily meant by ‘belief’ in a religious context refers to something quite different, and while this kind of belief sometimes implies belief in the philosophers’ sense it doesn't always do so, and even when it does it is with significant qualifications. Similar considerations apply to other words, such as ‘truth’, ‘knowledge’ and ‘meaning’ itself. In each case atheists tend to impose on religious discourse a particular philosophical meaning rather different from that typically intended.

Many on both sides of the gun control debate are under the impression that the best way to settle it is by weighing outcomes in the context of a utilitarian cost-benefit analysis. This article suggests that this way of thinking about the gun control debate is fundamentally mistaken. What matters is not the risk (or lack thereof) that guns pose to society, but simply whether guns are a reasonable means of self-defence when used to resist crimes. What this means is that even if we were to grant the claim that gun ownership decreases average safety, it wouldn't follow that restrictive gun control measures would be justified.

In this article, I argue that dreaming arguments are no cause for alarm.

Donald Trump promised to build a wall along the US–Mexico border and to make Mexico pay for it, but this seems to violate the principle of ‘no taxation without representation’ on which the United States was founded. Some democratic theorists propose even more radical principles of inclusion, such as that all those affected by or subject to a decision should have a say in it. But even a more moderate principle, requiring that those who pay must be represented, is sufficient to show that Trump's proposed border wall lacks democratic legitimacy.

In spite of the widespread recognition of critical thinking as an elementary aim of education, and an important tool for people to evaluate information and make reasonable decisions in their daily lives, to think critically is a difficult task. We are consciously and unconsciously biased, and our basic beliefs strongly influence the way we assess evidence, so our cognitive default condition seems to move us away from critical thinking. However, it is possible appropriately to exercise critical thinking to evaluate subjects to which we are emotionally attached, and the experience of the illusionist Harry Houdini investigating Spiritualism is a striking example of it. My objective here is to discuss how Houdini incorporated core elements of critical thinking, such as the ability to evaluate reasons, and the disposition to calibrate his beliefs accordingly, in his assessment of the claim that Spiritualist mediums could contact the spirits of dead people, as described in his book A Magician among the Spirits.

A team of two brothers enters a baking contest. Their cake wins the first-place prize of £500. Will they demand £500 each? Of course not. Winners must split the prize. We often ignore this when we claim credit for team accomplishments. We take more credit than we deserve. I apply this idea to baking competitions and academic production but it applies equally to other arenas with teams of varying sizes.

Running a marathon is not solely a personal achievement; rather it sets an example. Because of the nature of this example, it constitutes an achievement that deserves our praise (contrary to what has recently been argued in this Journal).

This article discusses how difficult it is to be morally consistent when choosing what to eat. Applying a moral justification in a consistent manner may result in some unorthodox diets. I distinguish two ways in which we might be inconsistent in our approach to food. We might fail to apply our morals in a consistent way, or we might fail to put our morals into practice at all. I argue that the latter represents a greater failing. Given the complexity of making food choices, the former is more excusable.

What is a human body? Some reasons are given for thinking that, in the primary case, it is a body that is both of and suitable to a rational animal.

Moran argues that the ancient Greek philosophers did not really do moral philosophy because they conflated self-regard with other-regard. I argue that on the contrary questions of what is in a person's own interest are moral questions and that self-interest should play a part in moral philosophy.