Using Kant’s argument that lies are evil and reprehensible in themselves regardless of the benefits that may result, I show that guns can be understood in similar terms. In a unique reading of Kant’s radical and often ridiculed ideas, I maintain that lies have this status because of the way they pervert our relationship to the truth and thus to morality and reason. Lies turn truth and reason into mere means to be used rather than to be obeyed. Kant believes that the result is arrogance, insincerity, and self-deception in the form of moral impurity and depravity. This gives way to the morally bankrupt logics of the passions for honor, dominance, and possession. I argue that this destruction of virtue and of our relation to the moral law can be found in our relation to guns. Guns are not just killing machines; they are deception machines. It is for that reason, regardless of the costs and benefits, that the Kantian should deny that we have any right to them.

Pacifists are often put on the defensive with cases—real or imagined—in which innocent people are threatened by violent criminals. Is it always wrong to respond to violence with violence, even in defense of the innocent? This is the “hard” question addressed in this article. I argue that it is at least permissible to maintain one’s commitment to nonviolence in such cases. This may not seem like a bold conclusion, yet pacifists are often ridiculed—sometimes as cowards, sometimes as selfish moral purists—for their refusal to use violence in defense of others. In this article, I try to show that such scorn is unjustified.

Pacifism is often painted into a corner as an absolute rejection of all violence and war. Such a dogmatic and negative formulation of pacifism does leave us with pacifism as a morally problematic position. But pacifism is not best understood as a negative claim. Nor is pacifism best understood as a singular or monistic concept. Rather, there is a “pacifist tradition” that is grounded in an affirmative claim about the importance of nonviolence, love, community building, and peaceful conflict resolution. This more positive conception of pacifism aims to transform social and political life. When understood in this way, pacifism is a robust and useful critical social theory. This paper explores the philosophy of pacifism in an attempt to reconceptualize pacifism as a tradition of normative critical theory. The paper argues that pacifism ought to be understood on analogy with other critical theories—such as feminism; that pacifism should be understood in terms of the “pacifist tradition”—along lines familiar from interpretations of the “just war tradition”; and that pacifism should be seen as offering interesting themes and ideas that are worthy of philosophical attention.

Though warfare has been a popular subject of inquiry in Aristotelian virtue ethics since antiquity, pacifism has almost never been afforded sympathetic study. This paper helps to fill that lacuna by asking whether and how secular virtue ethics can provide a theory of pacifism, whether and how it might defeat some common/foreseeable objections, and what additional work needs to be done in order for virtue ethicists to provide a philosophically robust account of pacifism. I begin by translating a pacifist argument from suffering into an argument from the virtue of compassion. Compassionate agents, sensitive as they are to others’ plights, will be highly averse to lethal warfare. In the second section, I argue that cases for pacifism like this one, which are rooted in individual virtues, cannot constitute a complete argument for pacifism because of the commonly held view that the virtues are reciprocal/unified, and that such an argument will therefore require supplementation in order to be action-guiding. The third section elaborates on what I call the impracticality objection. Any convincing account of pacifism will have to respond to this objection, and I argue that virtue ethical pacifism is especially vulnerable to it. In the fourth section, I highlight two avenues available to the virtue ethicist who defends pacifism from the impracticality objection. Neither of these avenues is viable without further research, however, so while I insist that virtue ethical pacifism is not defeated by the impracticality objection, I maintain also that this form of pacifism requires further scholarly work.

In commemoration of the 150th birthday of M. K. ‘Mahatma’ Gandhi, Douglas Allen, author of Gandhi After 9/11, presents an overview of Gandhi’s philosophy focused on two key values or concepts: Truth (Satya) and Nonviolence (Ahimsa). The presentation is offered as an alternative to non-Gandhians, anti-Gandhians, or reactionary Gandhians who often over-idealized the man and his philosophy. With respect to Ahimsa or Nonviolence, it may be easy to see how the value works against overt, physical violence. However, for Gandhi such examples are only a small part of violence overall. For Gandhi, violence and nonviolence are multidimensional, encompassing our personal ego-driven desires and our widespread economic exploitations. Each dimension of violence or nonviolence is both causal and conditioning, beginning with the experiences of children. Ahimsa should therefore be approached as relational and interconnected. Gandhi approaches the structural violence of the status quo by insisting upon transformative structural nonviolence. Gandhi’s approach to Truth or Satya requires a distinction between Absolute Truth and relative truth. Although Gandhi works with an experiential knowledge of Absolute Truth, he was not an absolutist. Gandhi’s primary focus was upon relative truth, which yields temporary and imperfect ‘glimpses’ of the absolute. In relations with others, we seek kinship with bearers of relative truth. This is the significance of Gandhi’s claim that means and ends are intertwined. With others we seek mutual discovery of relative truths generating greater relative truth. Gandhi’s well known Absolute Nonviolence may prevent us from apprehending its relationship to relative transformations in contextual situations.

Court D. Lewis, author of Repentance and the Right to Forgiveness, presents a rights-based theory of ethics grounded in eirenéism, a needs-based theory of rights (inspired by Nicholas Wolterstorff) that seeks peaceful flourishing for all moral agents. This approach creates a moral relationship between victims and wrongdoers such that wrongdoers owe victims compensatory obligations. However, one further result is that wrongdoers may be owed forgiveness by victims. This leads to the “repugnant implication” that victims may be wrongdoers who do not forgive. Author Lewis addresses the “repugnant implication” by showing that victims are obligated to work toward forgiveness, if not forgiveness itself. Critic Gregory L. Bock argues that victims are not the only ones who can forgive, that the personal dimensions of forgiveness are overlooked, and that the force of the “repugnancy implication” may be questioned. Instead of rights-based eirenéism, Bock supports a virtue ethics framework. Instead of rights-based eirenéism, Bock encourages virtue ethics. Critic David Boersema raises questions about the binding nature of relationships, the dependency of flourishing upon forgiveness, and the nature of needs or rights. Boersema also questions the wisdom of a rights-based approach to forgiveness. Critic Jennifer Kling asks whether a rights-based approach is necessary to ground obligations to meet the needs of others: why not an ethics of care? If a rights-based approach is taken, perhaps a wrongdoer is obligated to not make forgiveness a life good. By disengaging this obligation, we avoid constraining a victim’s work toward forgiveness, especially when the wrongdoing is oppressive. Author Lewis responds to these objections.