Discussions of moral weakness in recent and even not so recent ethics have generally neglected large areas of the moral life. In some cases, it may be argued, such neglect has been accidental in that the philosopher or philosophers concerned have set out to examine problems thrown up by a class or classes of actions without purporting to present an exhaustive account of moral weakness. In other cases such neglect is pernicious in that if not designed to protect a certain philosophical position it has by the doctrinaire delimitation of the range of examples considered had precisely that effect. This delimitation has often arisen out of unexamined presuppositions as to the nature of moral weakness. They are embodied in the following general framework suggested as an account not of some cases of weakness but of all cases:

In a case of weakness a man does something that he knows or believes he should (ought) not do, or fails to do something that he knows or believes he should do, when the occasion and the opportunity for acting or refraining is present, and when it is in his power, in some significant sense, to act in accordance with his knowledge or belief.

The thesis recently advanced by Mr J. P. Day that ‘Desire (or Will) is irrelevant to Freedom’ is an arresting, even contrary one. And one's first reaction to it may not be unlike Hobbes's on first reading Euclid: ‘“By G—”, sayd he (he would now and then sweare an emphaticall oath by way of emphasis) “This is impossible”’. However, it is hoped to give reason for finding several of Day's propositions somewhat less compelling than Hobbes was to find the propositions of Euclidean geometry. His thesis has and intends implications of ‘great practical importance’. He is concerned with the threat posed to individual liberty by collectivist legislation— though one may be allowed to share this concern without accepting his characterization of the threat. He is also concerned to rebut the claim of tyrannical regimes that they ‘do not really diminish liberty, because they do not really prevent people from doing anything they really want to do’— though again, one may share the concern without finding the rebuttal adequate. Finally, his thesis is intended to offer the possibility of resolving in a ‘higher synthesis’ the contradiction between an ‘Empiricist and Positivist thesis’ and a ‘Rationalist and Idealist antithesis’—but the would-be synthesis succumbs to its own antithesis, taking the form of an anachronistic laissez faire metaphysic. The criticisms to be advanced in this paper stem in part from Day's use of defective argument, and of assertion in place of argument; in part from uneasiness with the assimilation of ‘Desire’ and ‘Will’; but above all from a conviction that a satisfactory account of ‘freedom’ and ‘wanting’ cannot be given without close acquaintance with the various ‘behaviours’ with which the language of ‘freedom’ and ‘wanting’ is actually associated. The basic objection is to Day's employment of a still prevalent semantic procedure which permits the content of behavioural concepts to be arbitrarily determined and treats them as if they were autonomous mental constructs: failings often associated with logical atomism and methodological individualism. The result is to erode and distort the connexion between language and life, and place conceptual content at the mercy of a logic rendered capricious by the inadequacy of the material at its disposal and by misplaced confidence in what it can expect to achieve.

The theory of personal identity should illuminate and be illuminated by the theory of personality, of which it is a part. I believe that Locke's theory succeeds in this more than that of any other great philosopher, and the modifications which it may need are not fundamental ones. The problems raised by Butler and Flew can be made to disappear.

In the Lectures on Religious Belief Wittgenstein is reported as saying that the non-believer cannot contradict the believer. This claim may seem both to run against our experience, particularly if we are apostates, and to offer a protection to the believer from the most direct criticism. Such claims, and others which are less clear but just as surprising, combine to suggest that much of what Wittgenstein has to say about religion and religious belief is obscurantist, and he acknowledges that some say this of him.

In the twenty-five years since philosophers began to bemoan ‘the dreariness of aesthetics’, students in Wittgenstein's wake have done a great deal to eliminate the grounds of the complaint. Unfruitful essentialist theories have been largely displaced by the vigorous, if somewhat uncontrolled, growth of an enterprise which attempts to characterize and explicate aesthetic phenomena outside the desert of definition. The resulting view portrays typically aesthetic concepts as being indivisibly characterizing and evaluative, relativistic in application, necessarily linked to human attitudes, irreducible to non-aesthetic concepts, and yet as having social conditions which make them capable of intersubjective comparison and test. These characteristics are usefully summarized in saying that aesthetic concepts are concepts of appraisal. The theory of aesthetic appraisal discussed here is clearly incompatible with views which postulate dichotomies between objectivity and subjectivity, fact and value, and it is quite analogous to ‘descriptivist’ theories in ethics which reject these absolute distinctions. Moral examples are thus often useful for explicating the notion of aesthetic appraisal and the theory embodying that notion likewise has an important bearing on contemporary controversies in ethics.

There are several styles of ontological argument. Here are examples of the first style.

God has all perfections.

Existence is a perfection.

∴God exists.

All perfect beings exist.

God is a perfect being.

∴God exists.

God couldn't be improved.

A being that doesn't exist could be improved (by coming to be).

∴God exists.

If determinism is correct, then all that men do is in principle predictable. Further, all that they do is predictable in a certain way, namely on the basis of the causes of their actions, where those causes are sufficient for their actions. That is, according to determinism, the antecedents of human actions, their causes, are such that, given a knowledge of those antecedents, the actions that are their effects can be predicted with certainty because they cannot but occur.

In this paper I ask whether in Aristotle's metaphysical system the form of a non-living sensible substance, such as the form of this house, is or is not universal. I argue that his position as it stands is self-contradictory, and then try to give some account of the pressures that led to this central contradiction in Aristotle's metaphysical thought.

The ways in which mental concepts can seem problematic are various, and consequently the idea of a coherent body of issues forming one part of philosophy, namely the philosophy of mind, is highly misleading. When Ludwig Wittgenstein and Gilbert Ryle inaugurated the flood of recent writings about the concept of mind there was some similarity, although not identity, in the problems which led them to concentrate their attention on mental concepts. Wittgenstein saw that lack of clarity about such notions as willing, thinking, feeling and imagining generated powerful but misleading pictures about logic—about the difference between sense and nonsense —so that if we were to become clear about one we should have to become clear about the other. Worries about logic generated his interest in what it is to have a mind. In the case of Ryle, if we are to accept his own autobiographical remarks, an exposition of the logic of mental concepts was undertaken to illustrate whatever clarity had already been achieved by him and others with regard to logic and logical investigations. ‘The Concept of Mind was a philosophical book written with a meta-philosophical purpose’ (Gilbert Ryle, ‘Autobiographical’, in Ryle: A Collection of Critical Essays, edited by Oscar P. Wood and George Pitcher, 1970). Although I think it should be open for speculation just why specifically mental notions were singled out by him for such an illustrative purpose. In each case questions about logic prompted writing about the mind. There remains an echo of this in some of the books under review, but, as often with deepseated changes, the original impetus can soon be lost, and debates about distinctions in which it was first embodied can take on a life of their own.

Professor Frankena finds himself in a state of bewilderment about my opinions, particularly about those expressed in two recent articles, ‘Morality and Art’ and ‘Morality as a System of Hypothetical Imperatives’, which he discusses in an article pointedly entitled ‘The Philosopher's Attack on Morality’. To say, as he himself does, that he finds these articles ‘somewhat unclear’ seems on the internal evidence to be something of an understatement; he finds them full of uncertainties, contradictions, ambiguities and qualifications, and I do not know how he thinks anyone could have written such stuff.

John King-Farlow's ‘The Positive McTaggart on Time’ (Philosophy, 49, 1974, pp. 169–178) brings out extremely important likenesses between ‘abstract’ metaphysicians and ‘concrete’ philosophers of science. These striking similarities illustrate a perennial human quest for Something More Basic than Time, a quest which characterizes not only mystics who rejoice in contradictions but hard-headed philosophers who submit to the rigours of logic. King-Farlow is largely concerned with the McTaggart of 1908 and his motivation for writing ‘The Unreality of Time’. I should like to explore further the surprising bond between the Search for Something Deeper in the later McTaggart of The Nature of Existence and the writings on Time of Hans Reichenbach and Adolf Grünbaum. Reflection on this similarity should enable us better to evaluate the view that our vulgar, if practically useful, assertions about Time's Arrow must be reinterpreted by the wise in terms of chastened logical constructions out of statements about Something Deeper—logical constructions which are alleged, if chaste enough, to be eliminable.

John Searle attempts to show through a consideration of promising that at least some ‘ought’ statements can be derived from ‘is’ statements. He thinks (1) that you can determine on purely factual grounds that a person has made a promise, and (2) that it follows logically from the statement that a person has made a promise that he has at least a prima facie obligation to do the thing he promised to do. I agree with (2) but not with (1).