The Principle of the Identity of Indiscernibles (PII), according to which two objects are identical if they share all the same properties, has come in for much criticism. Michael Della Rocca has recently defended PII on the grounds that it is needed to forestall the possibility that where there appears to be only one object present, there is actually a multiplicity of exactly-overlapping such objects. Katherine Hawley has criticized this approach for violating a plausible “ground rule” in applying rules of indiscernibility to questions of identity: where there is putative duplication, it must be qualitatively significant. Hawley further suggests that with this rule in hand, one can tell the difference between the presence of one and two indiscernible objects without recourse to either PII or brute, nonqualitative individuation. In this paper, I critically examine Hawley’s contention and find that her appeal to “qualitatively significant duplication” fails since its application to distinct indiscernibles involves a difference that is primarily quantitative anyway. The upshot is a different proposed set of “ground rules” for applying the criterion of qualitative difference when seeking a grounding or explanation for distinctness and identity.

This paper addresses a question concerning psycho­logical continuity, i.e., which features preserve the same psychological subject over time; this is not the same question as the one concerning the necessary and sufficient conditions for personal identity. Marc Slors defends an account of psychological continuity that adds two features to Derek Parfit’s Relation R, namely narrativity and embodiment. Slors’s account is a significant improvement on Parfit’s, but still lacks an explicit acknowledgment of a third feature that I call relationality. Because they are usually regarded as cases of radical discontinuity, I start my discussion from the experiences of psychological disruption undergone by victims of severe violence and trauma. As it turns out, the challenges we encounter in granting continuity to the experiences of violence and trauma victims are germane to those we encounter in granting continuity to the experiences of subjects in non-traumatic contexts. What is missing in the most popular accounts of psychological continuity is an explicit acknowledgment of the links that tie our psychological lives to other subjects. A more persuasive notion of psychological continuity is not only embodied and narrative, as is Slors’s notion, but also explicitly relational.

Ability is a key notion in much contemporary externalist epistemology. Various authors have argued that there is (at least) an ability condition on knowledge (e.g., Ernest Sosa, John Greco, Alan Millar, and Duncan Pritchard). Moreover, epistemic justification is also arguably tied to ability. Yet there is not total agreement amongst the interested parties about the conditions under which subjects possess abilities, nor the conditions under which a subject who possesses an ability exercises or manifests it. Here, I will address what conditions must obtain for a subject to possess an ability.

This is a discussion of L. Jonathan Cohen’s argument against the possibility that empirical psychological research might show that lay deductive competence is inconsistent. I argue that, within the framework Cohen provides, the consistency of lay deductive practice is indeterminate.

Richard Rorty once suggested that, following a rigorous process of auto-critique, analytical philosophy attained coherence at a stylistic level, rather than being co-terminus with philosophy as such. Rorty’s subsequent reassurance that this was no bad thing, since the analytical style was, after all, a good style, seems less than reassuring, in part because of the philosophical resistance to style. Stanley Cavell—a philosopher certainly possessed of a distinctive style—has drawn attention to the tension, within philosophy, between the stylisation of and responsiveness to experience. Taking Rorty’s and Cavell’s reflections as a starting point, this paper considers the status of George Santayana’s philosophy in relation to overlapping questions concerning style: prose style within philosophy, styles of philosophy, and philosophy as a style. Santayana’s poetic materialism and modest meta-philosophical premises make style central to his work in ways that anticipate the questions raised by Rorty and Cavell.

In “World Poverty and Individual Freedom” (WPIF), I argue that the global order—because it is coercive—is obligated to do what it can to ensure that its subjects are capable of autonomously agreeing to its rule. This requires helping them meet their basic needs. In “World Poverty and Not Respecting Individual Freedom Enough,” Jorn Sonderholm asserts that this argument is invalid and unsound, in part, because it is too demanding. This article explains why Sonderholm’s critique is mistaken and misses the main point of WPIF’s argument. It also explains why WPIF is important—it can address some of those most resistant to significant obligations of global justice—libertarians, actual consent theorists, and statists.

In Love’s Knowledge, Martha Nussbaum defends the claim that literary works are essential to moral philosophy through her account of perceptive equilibrium. Perceptive equilibrium provides for Nussbaum a maximally inclusive conception of ethical inquiry, likely to be endorsed by philosophers of diverse orientations. Since perceptive equilibrium implies an acknowledgement of the significance of novels for moral thinking, those who are prepared to endorse perceptive equilibrium are also committed to accept Nussbaum’s claim about the significance of novels. I argue that perceptive equilibrium, Nussbaum’s claims of inclusiveness notwithstanding, systematically rules out a certain register of moral concerns, which takes pride of place in Stanley Cavell’s writings on Perfectionism. The omission of Perfectionism is important not only because it provides a counterexample to Nussbaum’s claim of inclusiveness, but also because one of the burdens of Cavell’s work on Perfectionism is to provide an account of the ethical significance of style. For this reason, the exclusion of Perfectionism goes against the deeper motivations of Nussbaum’s argument: Nussbaum, in outlining a method with the explicit aim of arguing for the moral significance of style, is supporting a picture of moral thinking which makes a specific dimension of this significance unaccountable.

After describing some of the ways in which pragmatist philosophers have employed different views about how to do philosophy, this paper explains how their different philosophical goals determine how they actually do philosoophy. We explain and discuss two aspects of Peirce’s work that are relevant to the ways in which he does philosophy: his remarks about the use of “literary prose” in philosophy and his valuable discussion of the “ethics of notation.” This is grounded in view of how philosophical writing should be carried out. We then discuss Peirce’s reasons for revising the model of representation that he adopted: he began by formulating philosophical issues about representation in terms of belief, but changed (around 1903) to give a central role to, first, judgment and, then, assertion. The paper concludes by discussing how these developments affected the development of his pragmatism.

Far from offering a comprehensive overview or a definitive statement of James’s philosophical style, the aim of this entry is to articulate the intertwinement of James’s unique way of writing and lecturing with his reflection on, and thus his use of, style. I shall take James’s writings on pragmatism (Pragmatism and corollary texts) as exemplary. In these metaphilosophical works we find articulated a picture of philosophy as a critical, transformative activity, one in which the way one expresses oneself gets itself rubricated as a central philosophical issue. In his characterization of pragmatism as a philosophical method, and consistently with his understanding of philosophical activity as a practice of reflective engagement with oneself, James offers his readers sophisticated and yet intimate instructions rather than prescriptions or descriptions dressed in a specialized, dry language. James is surely not the sole author who professed a close relationship between what is said, how it is said, and why it is so said along precisely these lines—Nietzsche and Wittgenstein are other notable examples. In what follows, I aim at depicting James’s distinctive way of formulating this insight and putting it to work.

I critically examine the view that Descartes’s independence conception (IC) of substance plays a crucial role in his “separability argument” for substance dualism. I argue that IC is a poisoned chalice. I do so by considering how an IC-based separability argument fares on two different ways of thinking about principal attributes. On the one hand, if we take principal attributes to be universals, then a separability argument that deploys IC establishes a version of dualism that is unacceptably strong. On the other hand, if we take principal attributes to be tropes, then IC introduces challenges that undermine the argument. This is partly because the assumption of tropes makes it possible to distinguish several versions of substance dualism, versions that differ with respect to their degree of generality. I argue that taking principal attributes to be tropes makes it challenging to establish any of these versions by way of an IC-based separability argument. I conclude the paper by suggesting a way forward for the proponent of the separability argument.

The qualia theory (QT) says that experiences’ phenomenal properties can come apart from and completely outrun their representational properties and that phenomenal properties are to be accounted for in terms of “qualia,” intrinsic nonrepresentational mental properties of experience. In Consciousness and Cognition Michael Thau argues that QT is incoherent. Thau’s argument fails. It rests on an illegitimate assimilation of phenomenal differences to differences in “the way things seem.” It begs the question by assuming that representational content can suffice for phenomenal character. And it overlooks a crucial difference between two very different versions of QT. The upshot is that QT is much more plausible than representationalist critics like Thau have supposed.

Richard Feldman and Ram Neta have recently noted that philosophers give relatively little attention to specifying the conditions under which S has something as evidence at a time. This issue is significant to evidentialists. Evidentialism states that which doxastic attitude S is epistemically justified in taking toward a proposition at a time depends upon what is supported by the total evidence S has at that time. What we regard as being necessary and sufficient for S’s having something as evidence partly determines evidentialism’s implications in all cases. Evidentialists need to offer a plausible account that, when conjoined with evidentialism, yields plausible results about epistemic justification in all cases. Here’s what I do in this paper. After considering and rejecting two attempts to identify when S has something as evidence, I present and explain Richard Feldman’s recent account. I argue that evidentialists ought to reject Feldman’s account, too.

This paper engages with a central question posed by R. G. Collingwood: “[does] philosophical literature [have] any peculiarities corresponding to those of the thought which it tries to express?” (Collingwood 1933, 199) In attempts to identify and distinguish between various schools and traditions of philosophy the idea of style is often invoked. And yet this same idea remains ill-defined and nebulous. My paper draws on a number of scattered discussions of style in philosophy in order to find the beginnings of an answer to Collingwood’s question. I distinguish between “shallow” and “deep” conceptions of philosophical style and examine the various forms each takes. The shallow sense involves considerations of methodology, the dictates of prevailing fashions and choices in writing style, and deals primarily with the form that a philosophical text takes. The deep sense, in Whitehead’s words, engages with “the ultimate morality of the mind” (Whitehead 1919, 42) and affects the actual content of writing. Here, a philosopher’s style invokes her fundamental philosophical commitments and reflects her philosophical persona and temperament. I maintain that a response to Collingwood’s question has to include both conceptions of style.

In what sense is a person addicted to drugs or alcohol incompetent, and so a legitimate object of coercive treatment? The standard tests for competence do not pick out the capacity that is lost in addiction: the capacity to properly regulate consumption. This paper is an attempt to sketch a justificatory framework for understanding the conditions under which addicted persons may be treated against their will. These conditions rarely obtain, for they apply only when addiction is extremely severe and great harm threatens. It will be argued also that to widen the measures currently in place in some jurisdictions, though philosophically well-motivated, would require very strong evidence of a set of conditions disposing a person to an addictive future. It is doubtful that any such currently available evidence is strong enough to justify coercive treatment. Nevertheless, coercive treatment of addiction is already a reality, with the potential for more, and so some discussion will be presented regarding the extraordinary safeguards necessary to prevent misapplication of such treatment policies.

Building on remarks by Dewey, Brandom, and Wittgenstein among others, this paper characterizes and defends a general style of philosophy as elucidatory analysis of concepts in circulation within a culture. The presence of this general style is then traced briefly in Quine and Beardsley. I then raise the question whether there is anything distinctively American about this general style. Drawing on work by Sacvan Bercovitch, I argue that use of this style is motivated by America’s distinctive religious history and that this style is present in the writings of Emerson and Thoreau in a marked way. Finally I turn to an analysis of the work of Stanley Cavell, the most self-conscious contemporary inheritor of this religious history, stylistically and substantively, and I point to connections between the style and the substance of this inheritance.

Wilfrid Sellars has been widely—though, I argue, largely mistakenly—criticized for his doctrine of picturing. I claim that a more thorough and accurate exposition of this doctrine shows that it does not suffer from alleged mistakes and, in addition, benefits Sellars’s general position by being the source for an “external” criterion of success for basic empirical truths, by providing a way to incorporate into his position the “mapping” processes of “animal representational systems,” and, finally, by being the philosophical piece in his “functional” account of meaning that allows it to deal with “names.”

Leopoldo Zea, one of the most important and original thinkers in contemporary Latin-American thinking, analyzed through his very long and fruitful career, the problem of cultural identity, focusing in particular on the complex relationship that has arisen between Latin-American culture and Western culture. This article presents, after a brief analysis of the most characteristic aspects of Zea’s thought, an interview, which I did with Zea in 2001. In this interview, probably the last that the Mexican philosopher was to give (Zea died in June 2004), some of the fundamental passages of his philosophy are re-examined and explored in greater depth.

Putnam’s style is rarely discussed in the secondary literature. In this paper I provide one approach to the kind of writing that philosophy becomes in Putnam’s hands. I focus on Putnam’s argumentative pluralism and, more specifically, the practical form that pluralism takes in Putnam’s commitment to the essay form. I argue that Putnam’s use of the essay form is a crucial expression of his pluralism. Looking at some ancestors of the Putnam essay, I pay attention to the specific hybrid qualities of the philosophical paper. I make a connection between the live tensions at work within the essay form and Putnam’s vigorous resistance to dichotomies in philosophy. I suggest that Putnam’s philosophical resistance to such dichotomies can be understood as the practice of a certain kind of irony. My primary example is Putnam’s work on the fact/value dichotomy. I suggest that Putnam’s irony might present an alternative to the dominant conception of irony in contemporary American philosophy: that of Richard Rorty.