Advising is sometimes just inviting someone to act on a reason he already has: giving him strategically useful information, encouraging his flagging spirits, making vivid what he wishes to forget. In that case no reasons are given. Sometimes, too, you find that your interlocutor has, as you'll put it, ‘no reason to do’ what you think he should do. You find you need to ‘give him’ a reason to do it. Here you have a choice between two strategies. You can attempt to influence him in a way that's at odds with the form of address distinctive of reasoning with him.

This paper is a defense of traditional compatibilism. Traditional compatibilism is, roughly, the view that (a) free will is essential to moral responsibility, (b) free will requires alternative possibilities of action, or alternatives for short, and (c) moral responsibility is compatible with determinism. Traditional compatibilism is a version of the traditional theory of free will. According to the traditional theory, a person S performed an action a freely only if S could have done otherwise, that is, only if S had alternatives. The traditional theory is often contrasted with the source theory: S performed a freely only if S was the source of a (McKenna 2001; Pereboom 2003). One may adopt a combined view of free will that sanctions both the traditional and source theories (Kane 1996, 72-3; van Inwagen 1983). As I use the terms ‘source theorist’ and ‘traditional theorist,’ the former refers to folks who accept the source theory and reject the traditional theory; the latter refers to folks who accept the traditional theory whether or not they accept the source theory.

Life is so wretched that it would be impossible to endure were it not for the luminous beams of illusion that guide us through its darkest moments. Many argue, perhaps not to this degree (or with this much drama), that were it not for some modest illusions about the world and ourselves we would experience a serious decline in quality of life. On those not-so-good days, this claim strikes me as irresistible. How would I endure life and maintain my sanity if I had to embrace each and every disgusting and disheartening fact about the world? Perceiving the world in a way that is neither clear-eyed nor complete may not be without its advantages. But even if being mistaken about the world or self-deceived causes one to be healthier or more comfortable, it is worth asking whether there is something to be said against a life of this kind. Might there not be some knowledge about ourselves or the world that we ought to have?

One standard objection to familiar utilitarian consequentialism queries its troubling commitment to the maximization of overall value irrespective of distribution, for instance among the well and badly off. Call this ‘the objection from distribution.'

The simplest and most obvious alternative form of consequentialism deploys some sort of maximin principle. Maximin principles maximize the well-being of the worst off. Lexical maximin rules in particular, which are perhaps the simplest and most obvious subtype, maximize first the well-being of the worst-off, and then in case of ties among the worst-off, maximize the well-being of the second worst-off, and so forth. Maximin principles provide an obvious route to the unification of plausible concerns with maximization and with distributional equity.

In 1693 William Molyneux put a question to John Locke:

The question became celebrated, attracting some of the foremost minds of the eighteenth Century and beyond. However, it is far from obvious what Molyneux's question is really about. What issue, or issues, of a more general and theoretical nature, does it raise? Since this is unclear, it is also unclear whether Molyneux's question still matters today. I defend a particular conception of what the question is about. If I am right, the question does indeed still matter.

Although Descartes presents himself as an adversary of skepticism, in contemporary epistemology he is celebrated much more for his presentation of the skeptical problem than for his efforts to solve it. The ‘Cartesian skepticism’ of the evil genius argument remains a Standard starting point for current discussions, a starting point that is seen (by contextualists, for example) to provide such a powerful challenge to knowledge that while one as much as contemplates such arguments one loses the right to ascribe knowledge to anyone. Even Descartes's less radical skeptical arguments are still widely credited as having tremendous force: Barry Stroud, for example, argues at length that no satisfactory response has yet been given to the dream argument of the First Meditation. The Cartesian response to skepticism, on the other hand, is not nearly so warmly received. In the current literature on skepticism one does not find much resistance to Stroud's assessment of the Cartesian response to skepticism as utterly unpromising, nor to his diagnosis of its central fault: the Cartesian response depends on a series of theological claims that Descartes does not (or perhaps cannot) show to be plausible, let alone true.