Abstract: In the Philebus, Socrates constructs a dialectical argument in which he purports to explain to Protarchus why the pleasure that spectators feel when watching comedy is a mixture of pleasure and pain. To do this he brings in phthonos (malice or envy) as his prime example (47d-50e). I examine the argument and claim that Socrates implicitly challenges Protarchus’ beliefs about himself as moderate and self-knowing. I discuss two reasons to think that more is at stake in the argument (...) than the mixed pleasure and pain of comic malice. (shrink)

This book is about the inner roots of malice.

À partir de sa clinique, l’auteur montre que le fantasme de Cupidon est un des fantasmes organisateurs du couple. Il précise ensuite trois configurations de ce fantasme qui organisent chacune une combinaison particulière du conjugal et du parental.

The article explores two recurring themes in the scholarly writings on ‘transferred malice’ the doctrine designed by Anglo-American law to allow full criminal responsibility where the defendant caused harm to a different object than the one he had in mind, due to either accident or mistake. First, in face of the diversity of views advocating the eradication of transferred malice, the article searches for the provinces in which that doctrine should still have relevance to our legal system. It (...) is often assumed that malice cannot transfer amongst different offences, which has led many scholars to conclude that the doctrine is superfluous. The analysis here offered counters both assumption and conclusion alike, as well as the common view that differentiates between the implications of accident and mistake. Second, reflecting on the different criteria proposed to restrict the implementation of transferred malice such as physical and immediate harm to the actual object, remoteness of the actual harm from the harm intended, and foreseeability as to the actual harm the article provides an analytical framework by which to assess these criteria and to determine which of them proves more persuasive. The result is a notion of transferred malice that strikes a favourable balance with the requirement of mens rea. (shrink)

Schopenhauer is one of the few philosophers in the history of Western ethics to dedicate sustained critical attention to the nature, extent, and phenomenology of malice. Yet while other aspects of Schopenhauer's moral psychology have received significant attention, his nuanced account of malice is under-explored. This paper attempts to remedy this oversight. It argues that Schopenhauer defends a unified and hierarchical account of moral vice in which malice is a sui generis motive, the pinnacle of immorality, and (...) far more pervasive in the human psyche than typically recognized. Moreover, it is argued that part of the significance of Schopenhauer’s account lies in how his idiosyncratic conceptual framework allows him to philosophically capture many widespread beliefs about malicious persons — particularly the view that malice is best explained in terms of the agents own inner-suffering. Nevertheless, Schopenhauer’s views about malice raise a number of interpretive puzzles, which the paper subsequently aims to elucidate and solve. (shrink)

In the early 1990s, the Commonwealth reformed its political structure to allow interference in domestic affairs of member states. This article examines whether such an institutional transformation has helped the organization to fulfil its purpose to work in the common interests of member countries and of their people. The article demonstrates that, while, as a consequence of post-Cold War globalization, concerns about the Commonwealth's political credibility and public perception have relaxed Commonwealth leaders' reluctance to accept legally binding norms of the (...) organization, strong resistance to Commonwealth interference in internal affairs exists among developing member states. It is argued that, because the new Commonwealth political structure lacks legitimacy and is contrary to the real interests of the majority of members, institutionalizing the Commonwealth has not contributed to the formation of a collective identity among Commonwealth members and to the resolution of the problem of inequality within and without the organization. (shrink)

This article addresses three interpretive errors that are common with respect to Thomas Aquinas’s understanding of malice. The first error concerns the interpretation of malice as consisting in the preference or choice of a lesser good over a greater good. I argue that malice instead consists in a disorder of the will, and where that disorder results in the choice of a spiritual evil. The second error occurs when one charges Thomas with inconsistency: it is claimed that (...) Thomas’s view of the will is incompatible with malicious actions. I argue that such claims rest on a mistaken understanding of the role of choice in Thomas’s thought. The third error is one of translation: some scholars caution against translating Thomas’s malitia as “malice.” The reasons that are usually given for this view do not hold up to scrutiny. (shrink)

In both their external and internal communications, organizations tend to present diversity management approaches and corporate social responsibility initiatives as a kind of morally ‘good’ organizational practice. With regard to the treatment of employees, both concepts largely assume equality to be an indicator of organizational ‘goodness’, e.g. in terms of equal treatment, or affording equal opportunities. Additionally, research on this issue predominantly refers to prescriptive and imperative moralities that address the initiatives themselves, and values them morally. Schopenhauer opposes these moralities (...) by conceptualizing morality as exclusively being based on the incentives of acting instead of the actions themselves. He identifies egoism, compassion, and malice as the sole incentives for every human action, whereby only those actions solely motivated by compassion can be ascribed genuine moral worth. In this context, this article shows that from a Schopenhauerian perspective, CSR and DM initiatives only have a genuine moral worth in so far as the individuals who have initiated or supported their implementation were exclusively motivated by compassion. Stressing the narrative of a business case, if utilized as a façade for true compassion that attaches economic legitimacy to these initiatives, does not necessarily harm their moral worth. The approach and the findings developed in this paper contribute to the discourse on the ethical behavior of organizations, as well as to the discourse on CSR and DM. (shrink)

Transferred malice, or transferred intent, is the criminal doctrine that states that if D tries to kill A, and accidentally kills B, the intent to kill transfers from A to B, and so D is guilty of murdering B. This is widely viewed as a useful legal fiction. One of the finest essays on this topic was written by our honorand, Douglas N. Husak. Husak views both the potential usefulness of, and his preferred alternative to, transferred malice through (...) the lens of sentencing – how much hard treatment the offender will receive. In this essay, I take a step back and ask in what ways transferred malice might be useful. I find its potential usefulness is not restricted to sentencing, but thinking about other ways in which it might be useful actually brings other potential drawbacks into focus – in particular, I argue, transferred malice mislabels the crimes the offender committed, and does so in a way that erases one of the victims from the moral description of the crime. (shrink)

(2013). Hume's Theory of Pity and Malice. British Journal for the History of Philosophy: Vol. 21, No. 2, pp. 324-344. doi: 10.1080/09608788.2012.692664.

Inchoate crime consists of acts that are regarded as crimes despite the fact that they are only partial or incomplete in some respect. This includes acts that do not succeed in physically harming the victim or are only indirectly related to such a result. Examples include attempts (as in attempted murder that does not eventuate in the killing of anyone), conspiracy (in which case the crime has only been planned, not yet acted out) and incitement (where the inciter does not (...) himself commit the crime he is urging others to undertake). The present paper attempts to analyze these inchoate crimes from a libertarian perspective, based on the non-aggression principle. (shrink)

The Psalms are a heterogeneous collection of texts that may come from many different periods, yet a reasonably consistent picture emerges of the sins they mention. These are mostly to do with social interactions, though there is some attention to sins of thought and intent. Because so many Psalms are concerned with supplications by those oppressed by others, the emphasis tends to fall on malice rather than on more ‘obvious’ sins such as murder or adultery, which are little mentioned. (...) There is not much reflection on the nature of sin as such, though Psalm 51 suggests that it goes back even as far as one’s conception. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Dante's Mission The Journey Begins Vestibule (Ante‐Hell): The Indecisive Neutrals Upper Hell: Sins of Unrestrained Desire (the Wolf) River Styx, Walls of the City of Dis Lower Hell: Sins of Malice Leading to Violence (the Lion) Lower Hell: Sins of Malice Leading to Fraud (the Leopard) Dante's Existential Lessons in Hell.

The doctrine of transferred intent (or transferred “malice” in England) generally provides that if A attempts to harm B but, because of bad aim, misses and accidentally causes the same harm to befall C, A’s harmful intent vis-à-vis B is transferred to C, thus rendering A guilty of intentionally harming C. Commentators acknowledge the doctrine to be a legal fiction, but they differ regarding whether the fiction produces just results, some believing it does, others believing that A is guilty (...) at most of attempting to harm B rather than intentionally harming C. Commentators who agree that the fiction produces just results nevertheless differ regarding whether the fiction should be retained or whether A’s intent to harm “a” person, in this case, B, is the only intent that signifies for crimes of intentional harm, regardless of whom A eventually harms. Doug Husak sought to achieve reflective equilibrium between intuition and theory regarding bad-aim cases by proposing in 1996 that A be punished for attempting to harm B (rather than for harming C) but sentenced as if he had harmed B. I once believed that Husak was correct. But I now have doubts, in part because Husak, along with others, cannot explain why the strength of people’s intuitions regarding A’s responsibility in bad-aim cases depends upon (1) C’s being a reasonably foreseeable victim, and (2) C’s being harmed by the same threat of force that A initially unleashed against B. I argue that one cannot achieve reflective equilibrium in bad-aim cases without inquiring into why resulting harm matters in criminal law, and that when one does, one discovers that just as people’s intuitions regarding whether intentional harms are proximate depend upon how resulting harms occur, so, too, people’s intuitions regarding whether an actor is guilty of intentional harm depend upon how resulting harm comes about. (shrink)

In Treatise 2.3.4 Hume provides an explanation of why ‘we naturally desire what is forbid, and take a pleasure in performing actions, merely because they are unlawful’. Hume’s explanation of this phenomenon has barely received any attention so far. But a detailed analysis bears fruit for both Humean scholarship and contemporary moral psychology. After putting the passage in its context, I explain why desiring and taking pleasure in performing certain actions merely because they are unlawful poses a challenge to Hume’s (...) theory of evaluation. Then I propose a solution of the challenge which draws on Hume’s treatment of malice, and highlights the role played by comparison and the self in these apparently paradoxical passions. Finally, I distinguish three views in contemporary discussions of desiring something under the guise of the bad (negationism, parasitism, at-face-valuism), and I argue that Hume’s account stands out as a particularly plausible version of the third view. (shrink)

Malice that cannot speak its name, cold-blooded but secret hostility, impotent desire, hidden rancor and spite--all cluster at the center of envy. Envy clouds thought, writes Joseph Epstein, clobbers generosity, precludes any hope of serenity, and ends in shriveling the heart. Of the seven deadly sins, he concludes, only envy is no fun at all. Writing in a conversational, erudite, self-deprecating style that wears its learning lightly, Epstein takes us on a stimulating tour of the many faces of envy. (...) He considers what great thinkers--such as John Rawls, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche--have written about envy; distinguishes between envy, yearning, jealousy, resentment, and schadenfreude ; and catalogs the many things that are enviable, including wealth, beauty, power, talent, knowledge and wisdom, extraordinary good luck, and youth. He looks at resentment in academia, where envy is mixed with snobbery, stirred by impotence, and played out against a background of cosmic injustice; and he offers a brilliant reading of Othello as a play more driven by Iago's envy than Othello's jealousy. He reveals that envy has a strong touch of malice behind it--the envious want to destroy the happiness of others. He suggests that envy of the astonishing success of Jews in Germany and Austria may have lurked behind the virulent anti-Semitism of the Nazis. As he proved in his best-selling Snobbery, Joseph Epstein has an unmatched ability to highlight our failings in a way that is thoughtful, provocative, and entertaining. If envy is no fun, Epstein's Envy is truly a joy to read. (shrink)

“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity”—so says Hanlon’s Razor. This principle is designed to curb the human tendency toward explaining other people’s behavior by moralizing it. We ask whether Hanlon’s Razor is good or bad advice. After offering a nuanced interpretation of the principle, we critically evaluate two strategies purporting to show it is good advice. Our discussion highlights important, unsettled questions about an idea that has the potential to infuse greater humility and civility (...) into discourse and debate. (shrink)

Life, but not as we know it -- Still life in nearly present time -- Driving and the city -- Movement-space -- Afterwords -- From born to made -- Spatialities of feeling -- But malice aforethought -- Turbulent passions.

Abstract: Against the background of a great deal of structural symmetry between intellectual and moral virtue and vice, it is a surprising fact that what is arguably the central or paradigm moral vice—that is, moral malevolence or malevolence proper—has no obvious or well-known counterpart among the intellectual vices. The notion of "epistemic malevolence" makes no appearance on any standard list of intellectual vices; nor is it central to our ordinary ways of thinking about intellectual vice. In this essay, I argue (...) that there is such a thing as epistemic malevolence and offer an account of its basic character and structure. Doing so requires a good deal of attention to malevolence simpliciter . In the final section of the essay, I offer an explanation of our relative unfamiliarity with this trait. (shrink)

Rodger et al 1 present a thoughtful case for the ethical defensibility of genetic disenhancement targeting unnecessary harm and suffering of the pigs raised for xenotransplantation research. On the assumption that xenotransplantation research is unlikely to be halted (and by my lights, also that no other short-term palliative options can be identified or developed), their view appears to be largely reasonable and aligned with recent proposals by animal ethicists for targeting pain in factory-farmed animals. Yet, despite their thoughtful responses to (...) anticipated objections, the authors overlook an important class of recent harm-based objections grounded in the ethics of care. Drawing on recent work in animal ethics, I present a case for potential (a) care-based harms to pigs and (b) care-based harms to humans that are relevant to genetic disenhancement interventions of the sort these authors propose. I discuss each in turn below. The first concern over care-based harm draws on Mark Rowlands’2 notion that at least some non-human animals may be considered moral subjects, even if they are not considered moral agents. Rowlands’ view is based on the positive capacities that many animals possess for sympathy, compassion, kindness, patience and tolerance, as well as negative capacities including malice, anger and …. (shrink)

Few philosophers in recent years have attempted to refute Friedrich Nietzsche's attack on Christian and other moralities. Nietzsche sees the morality derived from Christianity as harmful because it is slavish, rooted in weakness, fear, malice, and a desire for punishment of oneself and others. He sees the preoccupation with others through pity and charity as a sign of spiritual ill health and argues that we should value the strong; hence his concept of the Übermensch, or Superman. The author criticizes (...) these views. (shrink)

'" -Daniel Cottom, David A. Burr Chair of Letters, University of Oklahoma Cruel Delight: Enlightenment Culture and the Inhuman investigates the fascination with joyful malice in eighteenth-century Europe and how this obsession helped inform ...

Nursing and nursing education face a paradox whereby the world's most trusted profession seems not to trust its own students and practitioners. Much of nursing education has adopted what has been memorably described as the ‘cop shit’ approach. This is the panoply of surveillance, anti‐plagiarism and proctoring technologies that appear to be used more for policing and punishment of an inherently dishonest student body than to develop ethical and scholarly writing among future peers and colleagues. Nurses in practice may experience (...) similar levels of distrust as they face growing micromanagement and control of both their appearance and nursing practice. We propose that these practices of distrust emerge, not from malice, but rather from the omnipresent neoliberalism and managerialism that engulf almost every aspect of health and university life. Neoliberalism's success has been to reformat academia and practice to the point where such ingrained mistrust has become merely a neutral recognition of ‘the real world’. Dismantling nursing and education's ‘cop shit’ culture and replacing it with the trust and respect that the world's most trusted profession is accorded by wider society will not be easy, but it is vital for the future of nursing. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Have We Been Careless with Socrates' Last Words?:A Rereading of the PhaedoLaurel A. Madison (bio)In section 340 of The Gay Science, Nietzsche offers what he believes will be received as a scandalous interpretation of Socrates' last words. "Whether it was death or the poison or piety or malice—something loosened his tongue at that moment and he said: 'O Crito, I owe Asclepius a rooster.' This ridiculous and terrible (...) 'last word' means for those who have ears: 'O Crito, life is a disease.'"1 Nietzsche might be surprised, however, to discover just how many readers "have ears" to hear the pessimism and resentment in Socrates' voice as he bids farewell to his life. Indeed, this interpretation has become standard among both Plato scholars and non-scholars, taking on the air of orthodoxy.2Not only is this "Nietzschean" reading widespread, it also has a significant impact on how we understand Plato's project in general and, ultimately, whether or [End Page 421] not we believe that Plato still has something to teach us. This commonly accepted interpretation reinforces the view that Socrates and Plato were ascetics of the worst kind, hostile to life and the body in particular. As a consequence, significant portions of Plato's thought are treated as woefully unenlightened. Indeed, how can we take seriously the views of such a dualist who denigrates our earthly existence and urges us to deny and repress our passions, instincts, desires, and drives—i.e., to live for death?It is assumed correctly, I think, that Socrates' last words speak volumes about both his and Plato's view of the nature and task of human existence. However, the meaning of these words, I will argue, has been seriously misinterpreted and their intended significance fundamentally obscured. Thus it is time to take another, closer look at what is arguably Socrates' most important statement—a statement uttered with his last breath:Crito, we owe a cock to Asclepius; make this offering to him and do not forget.3How are we, as readers of this dialogue, to interpret Socrates' last words? What is the meaning of his final thought, his dying wish and command? According to the standard reading of this passage, Socrates awaits the termination of his life with gratitude and relief. As death closes in on him, he asks Crito to make an offering to Asclepius, the god of healing. By invoking this god, Socrates appears to be calling attention to the recovery from an illness. But what is the illness and what is the cure? At the moment these words are uttered, Socrates is on the brink of death and it is assumed that he views his death as the cure to the illness of life. This reading is substantiated by an earlier passage where Socrates argues that "the one aim of those who practice philosophy in the proper manner is to practice for dying and death" (64a3-4). The body, Socrates argues, obscures our pursuit of the truth and the sooner we can separate our soul from this hindrance (i.e., in death) the better off we will be, for "as long as we have a body and our soul is fused with such an evil we shall never adequately attain what we desire, which we affirm to be the truth" (66b3-5). From the philosopher's perspective, then, the body is something to "disdain" (, 65d1) and "despise" (, 68c11)—indeed, to "flee" from (, 65d1). Thus given the disparagement of our bodily existence in this earlier passage, how else can we interpret Socrates' final statement?4Because this "Nietzschean" reading of Socrates' last words appears to be based in large part upon the discussion of philosophy as preparation for death, any examination of it must include an analysis of the earlier passage as well.5 However, [End Page 422] to adequately interpret the discussion of philosophy as preparation for death (or any passage in the dialogues, for that matter), we must first place it in its context within the drama of the dialogue, the philosophical significance of which has been argued at length elsewhere.6 Let us then turn to the opening scene of the dialogue, for... (shrink)

In this paper we introduce the ‘New Substitution Problem’ which, on its face, presents a problem for adaptation proposals that are justified by appeal to obligations of reparation. In contrast to the standard view, which is that obligations of reparation require that one restore lost value, we propose instead that obligations to aid and assist species and ecosystems in adaptation, in particular, follow from a failure to adequately justify – either by absence, neglect, omission or malice – actions that (...) caused, or coalesced to cause, climatic change. Because this position suggests a different reason for reparation – namely, it does not rely on the notion that an obligation to repair is contingent upon a lost good – it permits moving forward with assisted colonisation and migration, but does so without falling subject to the complications of the New Substitution Problem. (shrink)

Everyday moral thought uses the concepts of virtue and vice at two different levels. At what I will call a global level it applies these concepts to persons or to stable character traits or dispositions. Thus we may say that a person is brave or has a standing trait of generosity or malice. But we also apply these concepts more locally, to specific acts or mental states such as occurrent desires or feelings. Thus we may say that a particular (...) act was brave or that a desire or pleasure felt at a particular moment was malicious. Even when they concern acts, these last judgements are of virtuousness rather than of moral rightness. They therefore turn essentially on a person’s motives; while he can act rightly from a bad motive, he cannot act virtuously from a bad motive. But they assess the virtue or vice of particular acts and mental states rather than of persons or traits of character. These global and local uses of the virtue-concepts are clearly connected, in that we expect virtuous persons to perform and have, and virtuous traits to issue in, particular virtuous acts, desires, and feelings. A philosophical account of virtue should explain this connection, but there are two different ways of doing so. Each takes one of the two uses to be primary and treats the other as derivative, but they disagree about which is the primary use. A dispositional view takes the global use to be primary and identifies virtuous acts, desires, and feelings in part as ones that issue from virtuous.. (shrink)

When someone steps on your toe on purpose, it seems to hurt more than when the person does the same thing unintentionally. The physical parameters of the harm may not differ—your toe is flattened in both cases—but the psychological experience of pain is changed nonetheless. Intentional harms are premeditated by another person and have the specific purpose of causing pain. In a sense, intended harms are events initiated by one mind to communicate meaning (malice) to another, and this could (...) shape the recipient’s experience. This study examined whether self-reported pain is indeed higher when the events producing the pain are understood as intentionally (as opposed to unintentionally) caused by another person. Although pain was traditionally conceived to be solely physical in nature (Aydede, 2005), its experience varies substantially with psychological context. The placebo analgesia effect, for example, is the reduction of pain without a change in physical stimulation when context, expectations, or sugar pills challenge the interpretation of a sensation as painful (e.g., Fields, 2008). The nocebo effect, in turn, is the experience of pain without any physical stimulation—as when participants report headaches when told that a (nonexistent) electric current is passing through their heads (Schweiger & Parducci, 1981). These variations in pain experience seem to depend on the meaning of the stimulus: A sugar pill is meant to decrease pain, whereas electric current is meant to increase pain. In an interpersonal context, the meaning of an action is derived from the would complete. perceiver’s perceptions of the actor’s intention (Clark, 1996). (shrink)

On the traditional reading, Schopenhauer claims that compassion is the recognition of deep metaphysical unity. In this paper, I defend and develop the traditional reading. I begin by addressing three recent criticisms of that reading from Sandra Shapshay: that it fails to accommodate Schopenhauer's restriction to sentient beings, that it cannot explain his moral ranking of egoism over malice, and that Schopenhauer requires some level of distinction to remain in compassion. Against Shapshay, I argue that Schopenhauer does not restrict (...) compassion to sentient beings and that a more metaphysically refined version of the traditional reading can accommodate both Schopenhauer's moral ranking of characters and allow for some level of distinction in compassion. I then turn to four further questions for the traditional reading: what the relation is between the feeling of compassionate pain and the recognition of metaphysical unity, how cognitions mediate compassion, whether compassion is limited to the present, and how the feeling of compassion relates to Schopenhauer's fundamental moral principle. I conclude by explaining how, in a reductive vein, the traditional reading can also allow for compassion to have normative content. (shrink)

ABSTRACTAny conceptualisation of evil, arguably, has to empower us to resist or transform it in our lived worlds. The latter concern motivates this paper much more than a thorough analysis of evil itself. Drawing on Jewish and Christian thought, I tentatively consider evil as resulting from the incomplete or failed cultivation of the humane. Along this line, evil is the opposite of humanity; it is the antihuman, the subhuman, or the demonic. Gratuitous violence, hatred, resentment, and malice manifest this (...) dark ‘power’ of evil. In the aforementioned traditions, peace and justice are conceived as being dependent on the inner order or unity of the soul. Conversely, iniquity – as the manifestation of evil – in the world reflects conflicts or disorders in individual souls. Hence the need to constitute one’s personhood. Such continuous creation takes place through genuine human encounters, where and when love, friendship, and gratitude are allowed to unfold themselves. These ‘dispositions’ are conceived as counterweights to evil. I will work out this argument, but also briefly examine how education, rural and urban planning, economic and political ‘systems’ can either breed or curtail evil. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:GOOD MEN'S WOMEN: HUME ON CHASTITY AND TRUST At the very heart of Hume's philosophy in the Treatise, namely between his discussion of the artificial and the natural virtues, he places a short chapter entitled "Of Chastity and Modesty." Its central position is appropriate, since these supposed virtues present something of a test case for Hume's account of the relation between nature and artifice, and, more generally, beyond his (...) moral philosophy, for his views on regularity and constancy in and out of individual lives. For these theoretical reasons, as well as for the calm realism of his treatment of sexual inequality, the chapter warrants more attention than it has received. Perhaps Hume's most important contribution to moral philosophy is his account of the difference between natural virtues, displayed in actions which do good one by one, each act having value independently of whether similar acts are performed by oneself and others on other occasions, and artificial virtues displayed in acts in essential conformity to established socially useful conventions, which do good only in so far as they are supported by general conformity. Hume does not, like Kant, insist that we always see morally good action as obedience to law, nor does he neglect the importance of those areas where good can be done only if acts are correctly seen as conforming to general laws, general conformity to which is not only willed by the agent but assumed by him to be in effect. Hume gives a subtle and elaborate account of when we do and when we do not need moral and social conformity, of which virtues are and which virtues are not mediated by changeable public will or convention. Conventions must operate before any act can count as property-respecting, but there is no need to ask 'can I will this as universal law?' before comforting a frightened child. Whatever the conventions, whatever others do, such an act does some good, and is the sort of 2. act which displays the natural virtue of kindness. Hume requires of a virtuous act not merely that it be helpful or agreeable to someone (or some public) but that it display a durable character trait in the agent. An uncharacteristic act of kindness to a child may do good without displaying a virtue or a good character. Approval is given, according to Hume, to persons on account of theii durable character traits, as displayed in their actions and reactions. The natural response to virtue is to welcome its possessor: His company is a satisfaction to me (T588), and virtue in rags will be the exception in a smoothly functioning society. The fact that Hume's ethics is an agent ethics, and that the concept of welcome virtue is more fundamental to it than that of a useful action, commits Hume, throughout his moral philosophy and especial!, in his treatment of the natural virtues, to an emphasis on consistency or integrity of character, to a search for durable character traits and so for characteristic actions. Now a person might be characteristically kind, yet on occasion, under stress, give expression to unaccustomed malice. The uncharacteristic malicious act may weaken but not destroy the virtue of kindness which kind acts have both expressed and infixed (T411). When the malicious act is known, the person's reputation for benevolence may be slightly sullied, but certainly not ruined. Both within one person's life, and within one population, there will be reason to encourage consistently virtuous action, but no reason to feel that all is lost or spoiled if lapses from the natural virtues occur. Even when cruelty is the norm, the rare kind act may be appreciated, if not rewarded, the rare kind person may be welcome, if also exploited and victimized. With the artificial virtues there is a stronger demand and need for uniformity in a population, since the value of any one just act, or one person's character trait, depends upon the support received from the similar acts and 3. traits of others. Every single act is performed in the expectation that others are to perform the like (T498). To display artificial virtues, actions must be seen as rule... (shrink)

The disagreement between John Duns Scotus and William of Ockham on whether the exterior act has intrinsic moral worth is a turning point for a new understanding of the relationship between the interior and the exterior act. Is someone who successfully commits murder as guilty as someone who fails in her attempt? Does the martyr merit more than someone who merely wills to undergo martyrdom but is denied the opportunity? In these cases, the completion of the act is the exterior (...) act, and the interior act is that part of the act which leads up to and includes the agent’s choice or command. Scotus synthesizes and develops an earlier tradition in which the exterior act has its own moral goodness or malice which is independent from that of the interior act. Ockham criticizes Scotus and this tradition, thus apparently becoming one of the first thinkers since Abelard to deny that the exterior act has any intrinsic moral value. Ockham redefines the exterior act as a purely natural act without intrinsic moral value and consequently traces the goodness or malice of an act entirely to an intrinsically moral act of the will. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:HUME, MOTIVATION AND MORALITY Hume remarks, in the Abstract, that his account of the passions in Book II of the Treatise has 'laid the foundation' (A 7 Ì1 for his theory of morals. Pall Ardal has shown how Hume's theory of certain indirect passions (pride, humility, love, hatred) underpins his theory of the evaluation of character. I propose to explore the links between Hume's account of motivation and his (...) treatment of an agent 'ß moral assessment of prospective action. Where Ardal stresses the moral spectator, my focus is on the agent. Hume himself attends primarily to the moral spectator, but the agent's perspective is central in two of his chief arguments concerning morals, that for the thesis that moral distinctions are derived from a moral sense, and that for the artificiality of justice. I shall take it that the argument of Treatise II, iii, 3 ("Of the influencing motives of the will") provides the framework for analysis: acting for moral reasons is like acting for any other reason; citing his moral principles to explain a man's actions is like citing his desire to preserve his health as an explanation of his taking exercise; deliberating about moral matters is like pondering the purchase of a pair of shoes. Of course there are differences; I shall look to them shortly. It is essential, however, to begin with the similarities. To a first approximation, the central doctrine is that the reasons that explain actions are rational causes of those actions. Reasons for actions are constituted by suitably related desires and beliefs; volitions are somehow implicated in intentional actions. Reasons are causes: the desires and beliefs that constitute reasons cause volitions, and thus actions. They are rational causes: there are links of special kinds between the contents of the desires and beliefs that constitute an agent's reasons for what he does, and the content of the volitions implicated in the actions done. Hume is at pains to deny that "reason [here: belief] alone can... be a motive to any action of the will" (T 413). But he insists there are "two principal parts [of human nature], which are requisite in all its actions, the affections and understanding' (T 493). I suggest that by "affections" he here means specifically (if broadly) desires, and so both the "direct passions" of desire and aversion and such "indirect passions" as benevolence, anger, pity, compassion and malice. Hume's official doctrines both of desires and of volitions are unsatisfactory as they stand; he treats each as simple impressions. To be sure, these simple impressions are said always to be accompanied by thoughts of (in Hume's phrase) their objects. Even such complex states, however, can play no satisfactory role in psychological theory. The insights that Hume's official doctrines mishandle can, I suggest, be incorporated into more defensible, and more-or-less Humean, analyses of the internal structure of desire and volition. Having made efforts along these lines elsewhere, however, I shall here concentrate on other features of desire and volition that are germane to Hume's moral psychology. Desires and volitions are alike in two linked respects, among others: neither takes a truth value (and so each differs from belief); each is a conative, not a cognitive, psychological state (and so, again, each differs from belief). Because desires and volitions are not capable of "an agreement or disagreement either to the real relations of ideas, or to real existence and matter of fact" it is "impossible... they can be pronounced either true or false" (T 458). Their general functional role is that of "propense and averse motions of the mind" (T 574). To be sure, there are differences. The principal difference is that of specific functional location: desires are constituents in reasons for acting: volitions are constituents of (or otherwise implicated in) actions done for such reasons. This functional difference is tied to differences of content. To grasp the many relations among belief, desire and volition, when the first two serve as 4 reason for (and so cause of) the third, it is useful to plot their causal relations onto the elements in an Aristotelian practical syllogism. Desires function as causally salient major premises... (shrink)

In The Nature of Evil, Daryl Koehn takes us on a sweeping tour of different interpretations of evil. In this timely and serious discussion she argues that evil is not intentional malice, but rather violence that stems from a false sense of self. Violence is not true evil but a symptom of the underlying evil of our failure to really know who we are. Koehn examines situations in which good intentions can have horrific results. She explores such works as (...) The Talented Mr. Ripley , Dante's Inferno , and The Turn of the Screw to illustrate the origins of evil and suffering. The Nature of Evil offers an insightful and engaging exploration at a time when we are all struggling to understand the roots of violence and suffering. (shrink)

This article engages with Adriana Cavarero's framing of sexual difference, specifically in terms of how this displaces “bodies that queer”. For Cavarero, the narratable self is inescapably relational and characterized by vulnerability, which is how ethics arises in the form of a decision between caring and wounding. At the same time, Cavarero's deconstructive method of appropriating stereotypes restricts the scope of sexual difference to dimorphism. In examining the implications of this, I build on the work of Michel Foucault and Judith (...) Butler by looking to the intersexed life of Adélaïde Herculine Barbin, whose suicide in 1868 at the age of twenty‐nine was precipitated not through malice or cruelty, but through concerted care. This mode of care is anchored in the apparent self‐evidence of how we see and how we think with and through narratives that sediment in orders of power/knowledge. While agreeing with Cavarero's critique of the autonomous “I,” the article nevertheless argues for authorial audacity—the courage to name oneself—as a way of subverting asymmetrical power relations, including those that make it possible to inadvertently generate suffering through care. (shrink)

Nick Bostrom's book *Superintelligence* outlines a frightening but realistic scenario for human extinction: true artificial intelligence is likely to bootstrap itself into superintelligence, and thereby become ideally effective at achieving its goals. Human-friendly goals seem too abstract to be pre-programmed with any confidence, and if those goals are *not* explicitly favorable toward humans, the superintelligence will extinguish us---not through any malice, but simply because it will want our resources for its own purposes. In response I argue that things might (...) not be as bad as Bostrom suggests. If the superintelligence must *learn* complex final goals, then this means such a superintelligence must in effect *reason* about its own goals. And because it will be especially clear to a superintelligence that there are no sharp lines between one agent's goals and another's, that reasoning could therefore automatically be ethical in nature. (shrink)

Given the civic needs of open Western societies which respect pluralism, democracy and human rights, how should Christians read the Qur’an? I examine four major methods or ways on how Christians do read the Qur’an, and demonstrate that all are inappropriate to the needs of our modern secular democracies. These are often allied to approaches that use the mask of revisionist scholarship to conceal malice and irrational hatred of Islamic values. First, major Christian methods that approach Islam, the Qur’an, (...) and the Prophet Muhammad could be entitled as follows, successively in this chapter: the non/reception method, the externalization method, the rejection method, and the paternalist method. Examples of such methods will be referred to. Second, a further examination of revisionist scholarship and literature shows other methods of approaching Islam and its sacred text and prophet; here, five other methods are outlined, which intertwine with the first four methods; these five are as follows: the Qur’an’s alleged misunderstanding of Christian dogmas method, the radical skepticism of the origins of Islam method, the Qur’an’s half-way to truth method, the Qur’an’s unoriginality method, and Muhammad as a messenger for the Arabs only method. Critical comments follow each of these methods, as a way of overcoming biases and prejudices that nurture Islamophobia and right-wing parties and populist movements. (shrink)