There is a small symposium in the New York Times today about the recent trend in analytic philosophy towards “experimental philosophy”:http://www.nytimes.com/roomfordebate/2010/8/19/x-phis-new-take-on-old-problems/unconvincing-results.

As some of the contributors note, it’s easy to overstate the trend that’s going on here. It’s not that for the 20th Century, philosophers used only armchair methods, and with the dawning of the 21st century they are going back to engaging with the sciences. When I was in grad school in the 90s, it was completely common to rely on psychological studies of all of uses, especially studies on dissociability, on developmental patterns, and on what was distinctive about people with autism or with “Capgras Syndrome”:en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capgras_delusion. And the influence of Peter Singer on work in ethics meant that purely armchair work in ethics was out of the question, whatever one thought of Singer’s conclusions.

This was hardly a distinctive feature of philosophy in south-eastern Australia. Indeed, we were probably more armchair-focussed than contemporary American philosophers. As Ernie Sosa notes in the entry linked above, 20th century metaphysics is shot through with arguments from results in 20th century physics. The importance of objective chance to contemporary nomological theories is obviously related to the role of chance in different branches of physics and biology, and “modern theories of it”:http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/chance-randomness/ involve a lot of attention to various sciences. And I’ve lost count of the number of debates I’ve been in in philosophy of language where appeal has been made at one stage or other to cross-linguistic data, which is presumably not armchair evidence unless we assume that the person in the armchair knows every human language. So it’s a bit of a stretch to say, as Joshua Knobe does, that in that time “people began to feel that philosophy should be understood as a highly specialized technical field that could be separated off from the rest of the intellectual world.” I’m really not sure which of the great philosophers of the 20th century could be characterised this way. (Perhaps if you included mathematics in philosophy and not the “rest of the intellectual world” you can get a couple of great 20th century philosophers in. But I doubt it would get much beyond that.)

That’s not to say there’s nothing new that’s been happening in the last fifteen years or so. In fact I think there are three trends here that are worth noting.

One purely stylistic, and actually rather trivial, trend is that philosophers are now a bit more inclined to ‘show their workings’. So if I want to rely on “Daniel Gilbert’s”:http://www.wjh.harvard.edu/~dtg/gilbert.htm work on comprehension and belief, I’ll throw in a bunch of citations to his work, and to the secondary literature on it, in part to give people the impression that I know what’s going on here. You won’t see those kind of notes in, say, J. L. Austin’s work. But that’s not because Austin didn’t know much psychology. I suspect he knew much much more than me. But because of very different traditions about citation, and because of differences in self-confidence between Austin and me, his philosophy might look a bit further removed from empirical work.

A more interesting trend is picked up by Ernie Sosa – philosophers are doing a lot more experiments themselves than they were a generation ago. This is presumably a good thing, at least as long as they are good experiments!

The university that Ernie and I work at, Rutgers, has a significant causal role in this. We encourage PhD students to study in the cognitive science department while they are at Rutgers, and many of them end up working in or around experimental work. That’s not to say I’m at all responsible for this – I’m much more sedentary than my median colleague. But “many of my colleagues”:http://ruccs.rutgers.edu/ruccs/people_faculty.php have done a lot to encourage students interested in experimental work.

The third trend, and this one I’m less excited about, is the reliance on survey work in empirical work designed to have philosophical consequences. It seems to me that surveying people about what they think about hard philosophical questions is not a great guide to what is true, and isn’t even necessarily a good guide to what they think. We certainly wouldn’t take surveys about whether people think it should be legal for an Islamic community center to be built around the corner from “here”:http://www.kaffe1668.com/ to be significant to political theory debates about freedom of religion.

A slightly more interesting result comes from a survey that “Matthew Yglesias”:http://yglesias.thinkprogress.org/2010/08/things-people-believe/ posted this morning. If you trust “Gallup”:http://www.gallup.com/poll/16915/three-four-americans-believe-paranormal.aspx, only 26% of Americans believe in “the power of the mind to know the past and predict the future”. This is a more than a little nuts, at least as interpreted literally. I know that I had blueberries with breakfast, and I can confidently and reliably predict that the Greens will not win the Australian election currently underway. And I know these things in virtue of having a mind, and in virtue of how my mind works. There’s the power of the mind to know the past and predict the future in action!

Of course, the 74% of people who apparently denied that the mind has the power to know the past and predict the future probably don’t really deny that I have these powers. The survey they were asking was about paranormal phenomena generally. And I left off part of the question they were asked. It asked whether they believed in clairvoyance, which they ‘clarified’ as the power of the mind to know the past and predict the future. Presumably at least some of the people who answered ‘no’ (or ‘don’t know’) interpreted the question as not being about the power of the mind to know stuff through perception, memory and inference, but through some more extraordinary method.

It’s in general extremely hard to understand just what qustion people are answering in surveys. And this makes it hard to know how much significance we should place on different surveys. This matters to some live puzzles. For instance, as Jonathan Schaffer “recently wrote”:http://el-prod.baylor.edu/certain_doubts/?p=2019, there is an “emerging consensus in experimental philosophy, according to which … the magnitude of the stakes does not affect intuitions about knowledge.” (By ‘the stakes’ he means the stakes faced by a person about who we’re asking whether they know that p, when the person has to make a decision to which p is relevant.) This consensus is largely because the experimenters asked subjects whether certain fictional characters, some facing trivial decisions and some facing quite momentous decisions, knew that p, where p is something that would be important in their deliberations. Generally, they didn’t find a difference in the responses.

But there is quite a bit of evidence, including “a lot of experimental evidence”:http://www.erin.utoronto.ca/~jnagel/Knowledge&Stakes.pdf (PDF), that differences in stakes in this sense really do matter to cognitive states. In particular, what it takes to have settled the question to one’s own satisfaction of whether p is true, depends on what is at stake, and if you ask them the right way, survey respondents agree that it depends on what is at stake. Assuming, as everyone in this debate does, that knowledge requires settling questions to one’s own satisfaction, this means we have empirical evidence that stakes matter to knowledge. What does this mean for the consensus that Schaffer reports? I suspect it means, like in the Gallup survey, that different people are interpreting the survey questions differently, but there are lots of alternative explanations. In any case, I’d want a lot more evidence than surveys though before I overturned a well established result in experimental psychology.

Two detectives, D1 and D2, are investigating a murder. In fact, the butler did it. But all the evidence suggests the gardener did it. D1 believes that the butler did it; D2 believes that the gardener did it.

It’s easy enough to describe and evaluate these cognitive states. D1 and D2 have both made judgments. Both of those judgments are about the identity of the murderer. D1’s judgment tracks the truth, but not the evidence. D2’s judgment tracks the evidence, but not the truth.

We can expand this story without many complications. Assume that the evidence about the evidence is not at all misleading. The evidence supports the proposition that the evidence supports the proposition that the gardener did it. D1, as you may expect, believes the evidence supports the proposition that the butler did it, and D2 believes the evidence supports the proposition that the gardener did it.

It’s easy enough to say something about these judgments as well. D1’s judgment tracks neither the evidence nor the facts. D2’s judgment tracks both the evidence and the facts. These judgments are not, in the first instance, about the identity of the murderer. Rather, they are about the epistemic significance of the evidence. So we have a few different arguments, by Leibniz’s Law, that D1’s belief that the butler did it is distinct from his belief that the evidence supports the proposition that the butler did it. And D2’s belief that the gardener did it is distinct from her belief that evidence supports the proposition that the gardener did it.

Things get trickier when the evidence is less one-sided, as the following example shows.

D3 and D4 are investigating whether the chef was an accomplice to the murder. The evidence supports this to degree 0.7. That is, the evidential probability that the chef was an accomplice given the available evidence is 0.7. But the evidence D3 and D4 have suggests that the evidence supports the chef being an accomplice to degree 0.95.

Now some people will say that what I’ve supposed in the previous paragraph is incoherent. That shouldn’t stop us treating it as a supposition. The supposition that there’s a largest prime entails all propositions, but we can sensibly suppose it. More directly, I think there are plenty of examples where something like the previous paragraph could be true. Assume, for example, that D3 and D4 had a rather bad statistics professor in detective school, and this professor told them that a certain statistical method was usable in cases like this, when in fact it was not. Using the method would increase the apparent probability that the chef is the accomplice from 0.7 to 0.95. D3 and D4 aren’t statistics experts, so their evidence suggests that this method works. But in fact, since the professor was wrong, the method doesn’t really increase the likelihood that the chef was the accomplice.

Let p be the proposition that the chef was the accomplice, and E the evidence D3 and D4 have. Let’s assume, for simplicity, that D3 and D4 have correctly identified E. Then consider the following four attitudes:

1. D3’s credence of 0.95 in p.
2. D4’s credence of 0.7 in p.
3. D3’s belief that E supports p to degree 0.95.
4. D4’s belief that E supports p to degree 0.7.

State 1 does not track the evidence; state 3 does. So by Leibniz’s Law, states 1 and 3 must be different states. Similarly, states 2 and 4 must be different states.

I’ve been doing quite a bit of work on the evidential significance of cognitive states like states 1 through 4. (Short answer: whatever significance there is will generally be screened by the evidence the state is based on.) I’ve usually called this work on the evidential significance of judgments. I think this is an OK bit of terminology, though it’s a bit tricky to call states 1 and 2 judgments. After all, we normally think of judgments as having propositional content, and the content of the judgment characterising the state. But there’s no way to do that with both 1 and 2. If we say that the content of the judgment is p, then we can’t distinguish a state like 1 from a state like 2. (I think that’s not a terrible result, but it is odd.) If we say the content of the judgment is that p is supported by E to a certain degree, then we have no way to distinguish a state like 1 from a state like 3. And we proved in the previous paragraph that they were distinct. If we say the content of the judgment is p, we have to say that judgments come in degrees. If we say that the content of the judgment is a proposition about the force of E, we violate Leibniz’s Law. It’s bad to be illogical, so I adopt the first of these options.

There’s another argument for 1 and 3 being separate states, namely that they have separate contents. But I don’t think that’s overly compelling on its own. After all, it isn’t quite clear what the content of 1 is. In the previous paragraph I argued that it’s p, but that argument rests on the Leibniz’s Law argument. So I think the Leibniz’s Law argument does all the work here.

If D3 says, “Almost certainly, p”, is she expressing state 1 or state 3? I think she could be expressing either of them. That’s to say, “Almost certainly, p” is a reasonable enough way of expressing 1, and a reasonable enough way of expressing 3. In the past I’ve gone on at some length defending broadly cognitive accounts of statements like “Almost certainly, p”, arguing that they must be interpreted as expressions of state 3. But I no longer think there are good arguments for that position.

The main argument for such a position is a variant on the general Frege-Geach argument against expressivism. If we thought that expressions like “Almost certainly, p” only ever expressed states like 1, then we wouldn’t be able to give them truth-conditions (apart from p) and hence we’d have a hard time embedding them in more complex sentences. But if we think that whenever such an expression is, say, the antecedent of a conditional it gets interpreted as having the same meaning as the content of the belief in state 3, we don’t have any problem with explaning embedding. So I now think the force of an utterance like “Almost certainly, p” just varies. Sometimes it expresses a belief about evidential probabilities, and sometimes it expresses a credence.

The AHRC recently awarded a grant to Elizabeth Barnes, Ross Cameron and Robbie Williams (all at Leeds) to work on metaphysical indeterminacy. This is really great news for Leeds, and for Elizabeth, Ross and Robbie. Well done to all of them!

The grant includes funding for a PhD position, but applications for that position are due within a couple of weeks. The full details for that position are below the fold.
Continue reading →

S and T regard themselves, antecedently, as epistemic peers when it comes to judging horse races. They are both trying to figure out who will win this afternoon’s race. There are three horses that are salient.

• Superfast, who is super fast.
• Three-Legs, who only has three good legs.
• Magoo, who can’t see well enough to run straight.

They discover the same evidence, and that evidence includes the existence of a genie. The genie will make it the case that if S believes at 3 o’clock that Three-Legs will win, then Three-Legs will win. And the genie will make it the case that if T believes at 3 o’clock that Magoo will win, then Magoo will win. (If both S and T form these beliefs, the genie will cause Three-Legs and Magoo to dead-heat. Otherwise the genie will ensure that there is at most one winner.) The non-supernatural evidence all points in favour of Superfast winning. S and T both have evidence that neither of them is the kind to usually form beliefs in response to what meddling genies do, so both of them have compelling reason to discount the possibility that the other will cause the genie to effect the race.

S and T consider the evidence, then get together at 3:01 to compare notes. S has formed the belief that Superfast will win. T has, uncharacteristically, formed the belief that Magoo will win. At this point it is clear what S should do. Her evidence, plus what she has learned about T, entail that Magoo will win. (We’re assuming that S knows that the genie is good at what he does.) So S should believe that Magoo will win.

This is a problem for several theories of disagreement.

The Equal Weight View says that in cases of peer disagreement, the disagreers should split the difference (or something close to it). But that’s not true. S should defer entirely to T’s view.

The Right Reasons View says that in a case of peer disagreement, the rational agent should stick to her judgment, and the irrational agent should defer. But in this case precisely the opposite should happen.

Someone might deny this by arguing that T’s belief is not irrational. After all, given what T knows, her belief is guaranteed to be true. You might think that this is enough to make it justified. But I don’t think that’s right. When T forms the belief that Magoo will win, she has no evidence that Magoo will win, and compelling evidence that Magoo will lose. It’s irrational to form beliefs like this for which you have no evidence. So T’s belief is irrational.

To back this up, imagine a chemist a few hundred years ago who has little evidence in favour of the oxygen theory, and a lot of evidence in favour of the phlogiston theory. The chemist decides nonetheless to believe the oxygen theory, i.e., to believe that oxygen exists. Now there’s a good sense in which that belief is self-verifying. The holding of the belief guarantees that it is true, since the chemist could not have beliefs if there were no oxygen. But this does not make the belief rational, since it is not justified by the evidence.

Even if you doubt all this, the Right Reasons View is still I think false in this case. If both parties are rational, then the Right Reasons View implies that a rational agent can either stick with their belief, or adopt their peer’s belief. (Or, if some in-between belief is rational, adopt it. But this won’t always be true.) That’s not true in this case. It is irrational for S to hold on to their rational belief in the face of T’s disagreement.

My preferred ‘screening’ view of disagreement gets the right answer here. I think every disagreement puzzle is best approached by starting with the following kind of table. Here p is the proposition that Superfast will win, and E is the background evidence that S and T possess.

I think that the evidential force of *rational* judgments is screened off by their underlying evidence. So this table is a little misleading. Really it should look like this.

Except now E is misclassified. Although E is generally evidence for p, in the presence of T’s judgment that Magoo will win, it is evidence that ¬p. (This is just a familiar instance of evidential holism.) So the table in fact looks like this.

And clearly this supports S judging that ¬p, and in fact that Magoo will win.

Before thinking about cases like this one, I had thought that the screening view entailed the Right Reasons View about disagreement. But that isn’t true. In some cases, it implies that the person who makes the rational judgment should defer to the person who makes the irrational judgment. Fortunately, it does that just in cases where intuition agrees!

I’ve been working on some stuff on disagreement recently, but they aren’t close to being ready to post here. In the meantime, here are some links.

• “Ishani”:http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~ishanim/ has posted “a paper”:http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~ishanim/Research/NEI0710.pdf on Miranda Fricker’s “Epistemic Injustice”:http://www.oup.com/us/catalog/general/subject/Philosophy/Epistemology/?view=usa&ci=9780198237907.
• The “TeX for Philosophers Blog”:http://www.charlietanksley.net/philtex/, which has lots of good stuff for TeX newbies, and for more advanced users.
• Alison Fernandes has a good guide for “applying to US and UK graduate schools”:http://homepage.mac.com/mcolyvan/applyinggraduateschool.pdf. It is written largely from the perspective of people applying from Australia, but a lot of it should carry over to other students. I think that she puts a bit too much emphasis on talking to faculty members, and too little on talking to graduate students, at the later stages of the application. (I.e., after you’ve been accepted and are trying to decide where to go.) But I agree with most of it, and think it’s an incredibly useful guide.
• Some of the Arché people seem excited by the “game theory course”:http://bit.ly/bBCEGB I’ve promised to run next year.

Finally, here are some things people might be interested in applying for:

• The G. Higgins Lectureship in the History of Philosophy at the University of Melbourne.
• Visiting Scholarships at the Northern Institute of Philosophy.
• The Wagner Fellowship in Philosophy of Risk at Pitt.

There is lots of fun stuff here. It’s hard to pick out any one paper, but one that might get overlooked by readers of this blog is Dominic Murphy’s paper on explanation in psychiatry. I think the philosophical issues in the special sciences should get more attention than they currently do, and Dominic’s work on psychiatry is very very good.

	Online ISSN: 1747-9991    Print ISSN: 1747-9991 Philosophy Compass Volume 5, Issue 7,2010. Early View (Articles Available Online in Advance of Print) Journal Compilation © 2010 Blackwell Publishing Ltd
	Aesthetics & Philosophy of Art
516-524	Recent Continental Philosophy and Comedy Bernard Freydberg Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00309.x
	History of Philosophy
525-534	Newton’s Empiricism and Metaphysics Mary Domski Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00307.x
	Legal & Political
535-550	Pornography Lori Watson Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00292.x
	Logic & Language
551-567	De Se Attitudes: Ascription and Communication Dilip Ninan Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00290.x
568-578	Contexts in Formal Semantics Christopher Gauker Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00305.x
	Metaphysics
579-590	The Puzzles of Material Constitution L. A. Paul Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00302.x
591-601	The Controversy over the Existence of Ordinary Objects Amie L. Thomasson Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00303.x
	Mind & Cognitive Science
602-610	Explanation in Psychiatry Dominic Murphy Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00304.x
	Philosophy of Religion
611-623	Skeptical Theism Justin P. McBrayer Abstract Published Online: 27 Jun 2010 DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00306.x

“Cian Dorr”:http://ndpr.nd.edu/review.cfm?id=19947 writes:

bq. But very often, ‘intuition’ talk is playing no such distinctive role. Often, saying ‘Intuitively, P’ is no more than a device for committing oneself to P while signaling that one is not going to provide any further arguments for this claim. In this use, ‘intuitively …’ is more or less interchangeable with ‘it seems to me that …’. There is a pure and chilly way of writing philosophy in which premises and conclusions are baldly asserted. But it’s hard to write like this without seeming to bully one’s readers; one can make things a bit gentler and more human by occasionally inserting qualifiers like ‘it seems that’. It would be absurd to accuse someone who frequently gave in to this stylistic temptation of following a bankrupt methodology that presupposes the erroneous claim that things generally are as they seem.

That seems entirely right to me. Or, as I might have said, it is entirely right.

Here’s what I think is a new argument against the ‘halfer’ solution to the Sleeping Beauty puzzle. (I assume here a lot of familiarity with the puzzle!) I’m particularly interested in responding to this kind of argument for the halfer view, versions of which you can find in papers by David Lewis, Carrie Jenkins and Joe Halpern.

1. On Sunday, the rational credence in Heads is ½.
2. Nothing surprising happens between Sunday and Monday, so Beauty doesn’t learn anything new.
3. If nothing surprising happens between Sunday and Monday, Beauty’s credence in Heads shouldn’t change.
4. So on Monday, the rational credence in Heads is ½.

I think premise 2 in this argument fails, for reasons set out by Bob Stalnaker in _Our Knowledge of the Internal World_. But Stalnaker’s positive theory is controversial; it would be good to have independent arguments against premise 2 here.

Start by modifying the story. Add in a new character, who I’ll call Prisoner X (or X for short). X will wake once, on either Monday or Tuesday. When he wakes, he’ll be kept awake for exactly as long as Beauty is awake. He’ll be told, truthfully, that Beauty is awake, then returned to sleep. There won’t be any messing around with his memories in any way; he’ll wake on Wednesday with memory intact.

Which day X wakes on will be determined by the following algorithm:

• If Heads, then X will wake on Monday.
• If Tails, X will wake on Monday with probability ½, and Tuesday with probability ½.

X knows all these facts before he goes to sleep on Sunday, as does Beauty. Now for the argument against the halfer position.

1. When X wakes up, his rational credence in heads is ½.
2. When X wakes up, X’s evidence is just Beauty’s evidence plus the fact that X is awake.
3. If 1 and 2, then when she wakes up, Beauty’s credence in Heads conditional on X being awake should be ½.
4. When Beauty wakes up, her credence in Heads conditional on X being asleep is 0.
5. When Beauty wakes up, her credence in X being asleep should be greater than 0.
6. So, when Beauty wakes up, her credence in Heads should be less than ½.

I hope the validity of the argument is obvious. In general, if Pr(A | B) = x, and Pr(A | ¬ B) = 0, and Pr(¬ B) > 0, then Pr(A) < x. That's all we're appealing to in the argument.

Premise 1 seems intuitively plausible and hard for the halfer to deny. If Beauty isn't surprised by anything, then neither is Prisoner X. X knows on Sunday that he'll wake up once, and knows that Beauty will be awake when he does. So on Sunday he can think about the one and only waking he'll have during the experiment. (That's in sharp contrast to Beauty, who can't think that.) And on Sunday he can say that conditional on Beauty being awake when he is, the probability of Heads is ½. So when he conditionalises on what he is told on waking, his credence in Heads is ½, as suggested.

The motivation for premise 2 comes from thinking about what it would take to get Beauty and X into the same evidential situation. It seems that simply telling Beauty that X is awake would be enough. X knows that he and Beauty are both awake. Beauty knows that she is awake. So that X is awake is enough evidence to put Beauty in the same position.

Premise 3 follows from a form of evidentialism. Rational credence supervenes on evidence. X's evidence is Beauty's evidence plus the fact that X is awake. So conditional on X being awake, Beauty's credences should be just like X's. And the first two premises (which are, note, the antecedents of premise 3) imply that X should have credence ½ in Heads. So, if everything is working so far, should Beauty.

Premise 4 follows immediately from the setup of the problem. The only way Beauty can be awake while X is asleep is if Tails.

Premise 5 is an instance of a regularity principle. Regularity principles say we should always give positive probability to epistemic possibilities. They are in general a little strong. In cases where there are infinitely many epistemic possibilities, we should give probability 0 to many of them. But in this case, where in some good sense there are only 3 possibilities of the same kind as the one being considered (the possibilities being Heads, Tails and X wakes on today, Tails and X wakes on the other day Beauty is awake), having 0 credence in any of them that is a live possibility seems a little close-minded.

So I think this argument is sound. Of course, one could argue that the presence of X changes things. Perhaps Beauty should have credence ½ in Heads in the original example, but not in this one. But I don't see how that could be motivated. Beauty doesn't find out anything about what happens to X on Monday or Tuesday. Her experiences are just like they would be if X didn't exist, and she knows this at the start. So this looks like a good argument against having credence ½ in Heads in the original puzzle.

The Yale CogSci department is developing a nice research initiative.

bq. The experiment month initiative encourages philosophers to develop and submit original ideas for new experimental studies. Students and professors who wish to submit a proposal for experiment month are invited to contact the experiment month staff for feedback and suggestions before submitting.

bq. All experiment proposals are due September 1st, 2010.

bq. A team of philosophers and psychologists will select the most promising of these proposals to be included in experiment month. Then, in March 2011 the experiment month staff will run the selected studies online, collect the resulting data, and help out with statistical analysis.

I’m on the steering committee for this, and I hope it yields some good projects.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention the link to this – here it is.

Philosophy Compass
Volume 5, Issue 6, 2010.
Early View (Articles Available Online in Advance of Print)
Journal Compilation © 2010 Blackwell Publishing Ltd

History of Philosophy
432-442
Anaxagoras Betwixt Parmenides and Plato
John E. Sisko
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00300.x

443-454
Anaxagoras on Matter, Motion, and Multiple Worlds
John E Sisko
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00313.x

Legal & Political
455-469
Punishment: Consequentialism
David Wood
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00287.x

470-482
Punishment: Nonconsequentialism
David Wood
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00288.x

483-491
Punishment: The Future
David Wood
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00289.x

Logic & Language
492-504
Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom: A Tour of Logical Pluralism
Roy T. Cook
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00286.x

Philosophy of Religion
505-515
Religious Language
Michael Scott
Abstract
Published Online: 1 Jun 2010
DOI 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2010.00301.x