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These nine chapters, commissioned on the initiative of the Philosophy section of the British Academy, address fundamental questions about time in philosophy, physics, linguistics, and psychology. Are there facts about the future? Could we affect the past? Physics, general relativity and quantum theory give contradictory treatments of time. So in the search for a theory of quantum gravity, which should give way: general relativity or quantum theory? In linguistics and psychology, how does our language represent time, and how do our minds keep track of it?

Bayes' theorem is a tool for assessing how probable evidence makes some hypothesis. The papers in this book consider the worth and applicability of the theorem. The book sets out the philosophical issues: Elliott Sober argues that there are other criteria for assessing hypotheses; Colin Howson, Philip Dawid, and John Earman consider how the theorem can be used in statistical science, in weighing evidence in criminal trials, and in assessing evidence for the occurrence of miracles; and David Miller argues for the worth of the probability calculus as a tool for measuring propensities in nature rather than the strength of evidence. The book ends with the original paper containing the theorem, presented to the Royal Society in 1763.

The usual division of philosophy into ‘medieval’ and ‘modern’ obscures the continuities in philosophy up until 1700. This book examines three areas where these continuities are particularly clear: knowledge, the mind, and language. It does so through three chapters, by different authors, each followed by a detailed response. The first chapter shows how Descartes attacked faculty psychology and thus separated himself from one strand of the medieval tradition, represented by Suárez. At the same time, Descartes was closely following another strand, found in Ockham. Thus, the discontinuity between medieval and modern may not be as sharp as first appears. The second chapter considers discussions of whether knowledge should be kept for the elite. In the Christian world medieval and seventeenth-century thinkers alike rarely advocated esotericism, but Jewish and Muslim scholars such as al-Ghazâlî, Averroes, and Maimonides strongly defended it. The main chapter of Part III argues that a version of such esotericism may be a defensible philosophical position today. The main chapter of Part II shows how Locke's philosophy of language fits into a long medieval tradition of thought based on Aristotle's On Interpretation. Locke introduced the requirement that a word be linked to an idea in the speaker's mind, but the chapter argues that this does not mean that Locke was proposing that we each have a private language.

Do humans have a free choice of which actions to perform? Three recent developments of modern science can help us to answer this question. First, new investigative tools have enabled us to study the processes in our brains which accompanying our decisions. The pioneer work of Benjamin Libet has led many neuroscientists to hold the view that our conscious intentions do not cause our bodily movements but merely accompany them. Then, Quantum Theory suggests that not all physical events are fully determined by their causes, and so opens the possibility that not all brain events may be fully determined by their causes, and so maybe — if neuroscience does not rule this out — there is a role for intentions after all. Finally, a theorem of mathematics, Gödel's theory, has been interpreted to suggest that the initial conditions and laws of development of a mathematician's brain could not fully determine which mathematical conjectures he sees to be true. The extent to which human behaviour is determined by brain events may well depend on whether conscious events, such as intentions, are themselves merely brain events, or whether they are separate events which interact with brain events (perhaps in the radical form that intentions are events in our soul, and not in our body). This book considers what kind of free will we need in order to be morally responsible for our actions or be held guilty in a court of law. Is it sufficient merely that our actions are uncaused by brain events?

This volume provides, through studies of some of the leading experts in Renaissance and Early Modern philosophy, the first assessment of the blurred relationship between Platonism and Aristotelianism between the fifteenth and the seventeenth century. Assuming a transnational and emic perspective, the case studies discussed in the volume aim at highlighting how early modern followers of Plato and Aristotle did not look at the philosophies of the two ancient thinkers as monolithic entities, with no reciprocal communication whatsoever, but were on the contrary well aware of the complex and ambiguous interplay between their systems of thought, an awareness in large part enabled by the gradual rediscovery of ancient commentators. Such a sophisticated approach to the two philosophers enabled early modern Platonism and Aristotelianism to explore new and original solutions to long-debated topics such as the immortality of the soul, and many others.

This book examines the relationship between natural law and toleration during the Early Enlightenment. Modern discussion of tolerationist theories during this period can suggest that such ideas were articulated in an essentially secular and individualist mode. In fact some of the most important discussions of toleration at this time emerged from writers who were committed to a more complex structure of assumption and belief in which natural law ideas were foundational. The consequences of this fact for theories of toleration have not (until now) been systematically investigated. This book provides new insights into the relationship between natural law and toleration in the work of Samuel Pufendorf, John Locke, Christian Thomasius, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Jean Barbeyrac, and Francis Hutcheson. Taken together the chapters uncover the diverse ways in which the distinctive natural law arguments helped to structure accounts of toleration that remain important for us today.

Since the rise of analytical philosophy, the relation of philosophy and its past is more hotly debated among philosophers than ever. Some scholars analyse historical texts without reference to current debates and their terminology, while others pursue first-order philosophy by focusing on problems instead of doxography—that is, without reference to their predecessors. A growing group, though, doubts that philosophy can be studied effectively on the basis of this sharp division. But does the study of the history of philosophy contribute to current philosophy? And, if it does, what precisely is the contribution? Does making such a contribution depend on using a specific method which determines how the historical perspective is related to systematic philosophy and philosophy in general? More generally, how do our assumptions about the relationship between historical and systematic perspectives affect our methodology and metaphilosophy or philosophy of philosophy? This volume presents and debates answers to these questions, which deserve to be addressed in their own right and not just as an adjunct to other discussions. The contributors of this volume provide diverse answers based on historical references, stretching from ancient philosophy to the most current debates, and also refer to various philosophical sub-disciplines.

The pragmatist approach to philosophical problems focuses on the role of disputed notions—for example, truth, value, causation, probability, necessity—in our practices. The insight at the heart of pragmatism is that our analysis of such philosophical concepts must start with, and remain linked to, human experience and inquiry. As a self-conscious philosophical stance, pragmatism arose in America in the late nineteenth century, in the work of writers such as Charles Peirce, William James and John Dewey. While popular wisdom would have it that British philosophy thoroughly rejected that of its American cousins, that popular view is coming into dispute. Many distinguished British philosophers have also taken this practical turn, even if few have explicitly identified themselves as pragmatists. This book traces and assesses the influence of American pragmatism on British philosophy, with particular emphasis on Cambridge in the inter-war period (for instance, the work of Frank Ramsey and Ludwig Wittgenstein), on post-war Oxford (for instance, the work of Elizabeth Anscombe, P. F. Strawson and Michael Dummett), and on recent developments (for instance, the work of Simon Blackburn and Huw Price). There is a comprehensive introduction to the topic and the history of pragmatism, and Price and Blackburn, in their contributions, add their most recent thoughts to the debates.

This book comprises three main chapters on Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz, with extensive responses. It explores the common ground of the great early-modern rationalist theories, and provides an examination of the ways in which the mainstream Platonic tradition permeates these theories. One chapter identifies characteristically Platonic themes in Descartes’s cosmology and metaphysics, finding them associated with two distinct, even opposed attitudes to nature and the human condition, one ancient and ‘contemplative’, the other modern and ‘controlling’. It finds the same tension in Descartes’s moral theory, and believes that it remains unresolved in present-day ethics. Was Spinoza a Neoplatonist theist, critical Cartesian, or naturalistic materialist? The second chapter argues that he was all of these. Analysis of his system reveals how Spinoza employed Neoplatonist monism against Descartes’s Platonist pluralism. Yet the terminology — like the physics — is Cartesian. And within this Platonic-Cartesian shell Spinoza developed a rigorously naturalistic metaphysics and even, Ayers claims, an effectually empiricist epistemology. The final chapter focuses on the Rationalists’ arguments for the Platonist, anti-Empiricist principle of ‘the priority of the perfect’, i.e. the principle that finite attributes are to be understood through corresponding perfections of God, rather than the reverse. It finds the given arguments unsatisfactory but stimulating, and offers a development of one of Leibniz’s for consideration. These chapters receive informed and constructive criticism and development at the hands of, respectively, Douglas Hedley, Sarah Hutton and Maria Rosa Antognazza.

Sensory substitution and augmentation devices are built to try to replace or enhance one sense by using another sense. For example, in tactile–vision, stimulation of the skin driven by input to a camera is used to replace the ordinary sense of vision that uses our eyes. The feelSpace belt aims to give people a magnetic sense of direction using vibrotactile stimulation driven by a digital compass. This volume brings together researchers—neuroscientists, psychologists and philosophers—who are developing these technologies, studying the minds and behaviour of subjects who use them. There is a particular focus on the nature of the perceptual experiences, the sensory interactions, and the changes that take place in the mind and brain over time that occur while using and training to use these technologies. Essays address the nature, limits and possibilities of sensory substitution and augmentation, how they might be used to help those with sensory impairments, and what they can tell us about perception and perceptual experience in general.