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The chapter focuses on the methodological debate between Empiricist and Rationalist schools of medicine, as portrayed in Galen’s early treatise On Medical Experience (Med.Exp.). This dense and philosophically-sophisticated text, preserved for the most part only in an Arabic translation, supposedly presents the substance of a dispute, witnessed by the young Galen, between his Rationalist teacher Pelops and an Empiricist opponent, about the respective roles of experience and reason in medicine. Analysing the arguments on both sides, in particular as they concern the question of inductive generalisation and the nature and validity of the empirical procedure known as epilogimos, the chapter shows how Galen’s presentation of a sequence of responses and counter-responses between the two protagonists serves to prefigure his own complex and hugely influential synthesis of the empirical and rationalist procedures in his own mature methodology.
I build on Max Weber's belief that theories had to be rational (internally consistent) and were only a starting point for understanding real-world behavior, which, even if rational, could understand rationality in different ways as a function of the values people sought to maximize.
Does Plato in the Republic restrict to philosophers alone the possibility of achieving happiness in this life and the next? It is often thought so. But if that were the case, the dialogue would fail on its own terms, in its task of persuading the interlocutors Glaucon and Adeimantus that they should cultivate justice, not (as Thrasymachus argues) injustice. They are not philosophers, nor envisaged as likely to achieve the level of rational understanding that is the precondition of happiness. In truth, however, there is plentiful, if scattered, evidence that an approximation to perfect happiness is available for various categories of people figuring in the Republic who have not attained what the dialogue counts as knowledge, ranging from Socrates himself, to trainee philosophers and warriors, to farmers and craftsmen. The requirement to be satisfied is the habit of respect for the law, not from fear of its punitive powers, but internalised as the way to lead a life of justice.
In DA I.1, Aristotle asks whether nous (understanding or reason) is chōristē (separable) and presents a separability condition: the soul is separable if it has some activity proper to it that is not shared with the body. I argue that Aristotle is speaking here of separability in being, not separability in account or taxonomical separation. In the case of the soul, this sort of separability would allow the soul to exist apart from the body. Met. Λ.3, GA II.3, and DA III.4 suggest that Aristotle introduces the separability condition because understanding meets it. Reason is independent of the body in a way that no other power of the soul is. Nous alone is divine and separable. DA III.5 then situates this claim: there is an aspect of understanding that can only be active in connection with the body, but understanding is what it is and continues to be active apart from the body. This raises further questions about the life and ontological status of the sort of separated human nous Aristotle envisages. While figuring out its precise contours is difficult, Aristotle is, in fact, committed to the possibility of human intellectual activity continuing apart from the body.
I examine Aristotle’s reasons in DA I.3 for rejecting the claim that understanding (nous) is a magnitude (megethos), an idea Aristotle associates most explicitly with Plato, who describes nous as a self-moving circle in the Timaeus. Aristotle shows that his definition of soul, on which soul is not a magnitude or body of any kind, can explain perception, thought, and motion better than his predecessor’s materialist accounts. But unlike perception and motion, nous is not actualized through the body nor does it have a bodily organ, which makes nous a very different kind of soul capacity. Earlier thinkers, including Plato, already maintain that nous does not have a bodily organ, but they cannot explain how nous could operate or be a mover without being some sort of body itself. Even in the Timaeus, nous is described as being a kind of magnitude. But if nous were a magnitude of any kind, Aristotle claims it would not be able to think or reason. There is something about being a magnitude qua magnitude that makes reason impossible. His critique of Plato in I.3 prepares the way for his account of nous in DA III.4.
Plato’s tripartite theory is used as a lens to increase our understanding of Dialogical Self Theory (DST) and to stimulate the further exploration of its personal, social, and societal possibilities. Plato creates links between (a) body parts (head, chest, belly), (b) faculties of the soul (logos, thymos, eros), and (c) societal groups (philosophers, military, artisans). Whereas in Plato’s vision, three main body parts are distinguished, DST is based on the assumption of a multiplicity of body parts that are linked to a multiplicity of embodied I-positions. Furthermore, whereas Plato puts reason (logos) structurally above emotion (eros), DST sees reason and emotion as equivalent and “cooperative” systems. The assumption of reason-with-emotion, instead of reason-above-emotion, creates room for the emergence of dialogical relationships among these central faculties. Finally, whereas Plato distinguishes three hierarchically organized societal groups, DST, as a multipartite theory, interiorizes a broader variety of social groups as participants in a multivoiced democratically organized self.
Kant was a keen psychological observer and theorist of the forms, mechanisms and sources of self-deception. In this Element, the author discusses the role of rationalizing/Vernünfteln for Kant's moral psychology, normative ethics and philosophical methodology. By drawing on the full breadth of examples of rationalizing Kant discusses, the author shows how rationalizing can extend to general features of morality and corrupt rational agents thoroughly (albeit not completely and not irreversibly). Furthermore, the author explains the often-overlooked roles common human reason, empirical practical reason and even pure practical reason play for rationalizing. Kant is aware that rationality is a double-edged sword; reason is the source of morality and of our dignity, but it also enables us to seemingly justify moral transgressions to ourselves, and it creates an interest in this justification in the first place. Finally, this Element discusses whether Kant's ethical theory itself can be criticised as a product of rationalizing.
This chapter discusses Cicero’s views on the relation between ethical theory and the good human life, focusing on his main work on ethical theory, De finibus. Cicero’s critique of Stoic and Epicurean ethics has a common element, all the more striking given the differences between the two doctrines, namely that neither theory is livable with integrity in social contexts. This critique is a reflection both of Cicero’s belief that ethics should engage with lived human experience and of the commitment, in varying degrees, of the Stoics and Epicureans to a conception of the good human life as inherently social. The pluralism of the Old Academy’s ethics discussed in the final part of De finibus escapes this critique but is in danger, through lack of a single supreme value, of failing to offer a basis on which we may structure our lives. Taken as a whole, De finibus can thus be seen to cast a skeptical eye on the viability of ethical theory itself.
We come to the end of the book with a hopeful summary and discussion about the benefits to the policy community of behavioral political ccience and our synthesis of rational choice and BPS. By linking ideas from diverse social scientific disciplines – economics, political science, sociology, psychology, communication, and others – we hope the book might create benefits larger than the sum of its individual chapters. Moving beyond the simple assumptions of Economic Man, BPS has improved our understanding of how people actually think, decide, and act in the political realm. We also discuss how BPS insights can be incorporated into the formal political models that are the hallmark of RCT approaches to political sciences, paving a path for integration of the work by theorists working in both traditions. The biases carefully reviewed in the first half of the book, combined with insights about what types of preferences, with what origins, influence political decisions leave us much better off than we were even fifty years ago in the field. We hope the reader will agree, and that those who hope to make informed, responsive public policies will use BPS insights as a helpful foundation.
Clause structure may be elaborated by constituents in adjunct function. Adjuncts are of two kinds: modifiers, which are thoroughly integrated into the syntactic structure of clauses, and the more loosely connected supplements. The boundary between adjuncts and complements is not perfectly sharp. Here, we classify adjuncts semantically. Such a grouping is potentially open-ended and leads to overlap between types. The following list of types corresponds roughly to the typical degree of syntactic integration of the adjunct: manner, means, and instrument; act-related; locational (space); temporal (time); degree, intensity, and extent; purpose, reason, and result; concessive; conditional; domain; modal; evaluative; speech act; connective; & supplement.
Supplements are NOT dependents: they are not selected by heads the way complements are. But for every supplement there is some specific constituent that it is (loosely) associated with. We call that its anchor. Supplements can belong to a remarkable range of categories: NPs, clauses of all kinds, AdjPs, AdvPs, PPs, constituents beginning with a coordinator, and even interjections.
Celsus penned the earliest known detailed attack upon Christianity. While his identity is disputed and his anti-Christian treatise, entitled the True Word, has been exclusively transmitted through the hands of the great Christian scholar Origen, he remains an intriguing figure. In this interdisciplinary volume, which brings together ancient philosophers, specialists in Greek literature, and historians of early Christianity and of ancient Judaism, Celsus is situated within the cultural, philosophical, religious and political world from which he emerged. While his work is ostensibly an attack upon Christianity, it is also the defence of a world in which Celsus passionately believed. It is the unique contribution of this volume to give voice to the many dimensions of that world in a way that will engage a variety of scholars interested in late antiquity and the histories of Christianity, Judaism and Greek thought.
Ethics, for Spinoza, is knowledge of “the right way of living.” That ethics is central to his philosophical project is unmistakable from the title of his most systematic presentation of his philosophy: Ethics, Demonstrated in Geometrical Order (Ethica, ordine geometrico demonstrata). While that work seeks to demonstrate a broad range of metaphysical, theological, epistemological, and psychological doctrines, they are selected for inclusion, at least in large measure, because of the support he takes them to provide for his ultimate ethical conclusions. Many of those conclusions are distinctive and provocative, and many of his reasons for them are innovative and intriguing. This chapter begins by providing an outline of Spinoza’s ethical theory, including is naturalistic foundations; its primary terms of ethical evaluation; the nature and causes of bondage to the passions; the prescriptions of reason; the way to freedom and autonomy; and eternity, intellectual love of God, and blessedness. It then considers four important questions for Spinoza’s ethical theory: the nature and motivational force of ethical judgments; the conditions for ethical responsibility; the role of altruism in ethics; and the value of life and the harmfulness of death.
After his controversy with Schelling, Fichte orally presented several new versions of his Science in which he adopted, if not a new standpoint, certainly a new methodology that had repercussions for the earlier standpoint. Where the “I is I” was the principle of the earlier Science, the trope of “light,” used alternatively with Evidenz and Reason, was the new principle. Where Fichte had earlier urged his auditors to engage in productive thinking, he now encouraged them to practice “attention,” an attitude of being actively engaged in the passive reception of the objects that presented themselves to their grasp. They had to detect in them, but only indirectly, the source of the intelligibility that made their presence compelling yet itself remained unseen. The aim was to let this source pervade one’s life. Fichte was adopting a new kind of realism which was in fact more consistent with the monism to which he had been committed from the beginning. Chapter 3 explores in detail a key text of 1804 in which these changes are introduced. The ontological quietism to which Fichte’s Science now led was one possible existential attitude that the assumed monism fostered.
Recent studies have observed that in Grotius’ legal doctrine the intellectual ambition to create a universal rule of law (natural law) coexists with a distinctively ‘modern’ use of the vocabulary of individual rights (natural rights). In this chapter, I argue that a more careful reading of Grotius’ engagement with the Aristotelian tradition might cast new light on this traditional dichotomy, and expand our understanding of Grotius’ theory of justice. Famously, Grotius relies on the Aristotelian notion of virtue ethics to introduce the concept of aptitude, which designs a more generic account of merit and moral fitness rather than a strict, enforceable legal claim. Far from being discarded as a ‘minor’ or ‘deficient’ source of right, aptitude plays a fundamental role in this context. Through his reading and translating of the Aristotelian commentator Michael of Ephesus, I will show how Grotius’ thin conception of right as aptitude and fitness provides his natural law doctrine with a heuristic requirement for right reason.
Why is reading never thought of as a source of knowledge? This chapter analyzes, first, what it is for something to be a source of knowledge and, second, by what kind of principles acknowledged sources of knowledge have been individuated. It is shown that epistemologists have used five kinds of principles, and it is argued that reading can be individuated by means of some of those principles.
This chapter argues that, for Aristotle, human emotions are both different from, and also importantly continuous with, the emotions experienced by non-human animals. On the one hand, the repertoire of emotions experienced by human beings differs significantly from the repertoire experienced by non-human animals. The difference stems from the fact that only human beings have reason. Some human emotions (for example, shame) require the possession of reason and hence cannot be experienced by non-human animals. Other human emotions have counterparts in non-human animals, but they differ from these counterparts because, when functioning correctly, they are guided by reason. For instance, the disposition to feel fear is reason-governed in a human being but not in an animal. On the other hand, in spite of these striking differences between human and animal emotions, Dow argues that the emotions also reveal an important continuity between human beings and other animals: both human and animal emotions are fundamentally capacities to respond with pleasure or pain to situations that are apparently good or harmful to the subject. In this sense, emotion plays a similar role in the lives of humans and non-human animals.
Critical appraisals of Milton’s influence on Romantic poets tend to centre on two aspects: first, the idea that they took their cue from Milton’s archangel Michael in Book 12 of Paradise Lost who advises Adam to seek a ‘paradise within’, conventionally interpreted as signifying the compensatory ‘inward light’ of imagination;1 second, that they fought the political or ethical corner of Milton’s Satan, developing ‘an elaborate exegesis of his human qualities and reactions’, a view we see most famously in Southey’s reference to Byron, Shelley and Hunt as a ‘Satanic School’.2 Byron’s Cain (1821), his most extended fictional engagement with Paradise Lost, has usually been viewed in this light and was castigated for it by contemporary reviewers. Many noted that Byron allowed Lucifer to develop arguments ‘without refutation’ – quite unlike Milton, whose Satan is checked at every turn by the warning voice of God and a chorus of archangels – thus undervaluing the alternative perspectives and dramatic significance of Byron’s other mortal characters, particularly Abel and Cain’s wife, whom he named Adah.3 Byron never attempted an imaginative recalibration of Milton’s epic, in the manner of Blake in his prophetic books or Wordsworth in The Prelude, and Truman Guy Steffan rightly notes that when Byron’s ‘Lucifer encouraged Cain to use his reason and judgment in determining right and wrong, he was far from Blake’s position’.4
The notion of autonomy has come to mean many different things – self-legislation, thinking for oneself, self-governance. But it was Kant who introduced the term into philosophy, and he meant by it the idea that we ourselves, as rational beings, are the authors of the principles by which we think and act. This chapter argues that such an idea is incoherent. Reason is essentially a receptive faculty, consisting in our capacity for responding to reasons. This chapter also explores why Kant, and many others after him, were led to this idea, namely their adherence to a naturalistic conception of the world of experience. It therefore goes on to sketch a better metaphysical conception of reality
In this book, Charles Larmore develops an account of morality, freedom, and reason that rejects the naturalistic metaphysics shaping much of modern thought. Reason, Larmore argues, is responsiveness to reasons, and reasons themselves are essentially normative in character, consisting in the way that physical and psychological facts - facts about the world of nature - count in favor of possibilities of thought and action that we can take up. Moral judgments are true or false in virtue of the moral reasons there are. We need therefore a more comprehensive metaphysics that recognizes a normative dimension to reality as well. Though taking its point of departure in the analysis of moral judgment, this book branches widely into related topics such as freedom and the causal order of the world, textual interpretation, the nature of the self, self-knowledge, and the concept of duties to ourselves.