Richard Foley

: Plato’s instructions entail that the line of Republic VI is divided so that the middle two segments are of equal length. Yet I argue that Plato’s elaboration of the significance of this analogy shows he believes that these segments are of unequal length because the domains they represent are not of equally clear mental states, nor perhaps of objects of equal reality. I label this inconsistency between Plato’s instructions and his explanation the “overdetermination problem.” The overdetermination problem has been a perennial concern, and a substantial amount of work has been produced which attempts to deal with it. I offer a classification of approaches to the overdetermination problem as a way of documenting the problem’s significance, and show why these approaches are all inadequate as solutions. My novel resolution of the overdetermination problem rests upon a demonstration that the contradiction is intentional. The later recapitulation of the ratio at 534a reveals that Plato was himself aware that the middle two segments are equal. I argue that this contradiction is a sophisticated device designed to lead the reader of the Republic through the four epistemic stages represented by the line itself. Most significantly, recognition of this mathematical contradiction acts as a goad, spurring independent philosophical reflection just in the way that Plato advocates in the Republic more generally

In this new book, Foley defends an epistemology that takes seriously the perspectives of individual thinkers. He argues that having rational opinions is a matter of meeting our own internal standards rather than standards that are somehow imposed upon us from the outside. It is a matter of making ourselves invulnerable to intellectual self-criticism. Foley also shows how the theory of rational belief is part of a general theory of rationality. He thus avoids treating the rationality of belief as a fundamentally different kind of phenomenon from the rationality of decision or action. His approach generates promising suggestions about a wide range of issues--e.g., the distinction between epistemic and non-epistemic reasons for belief; the question of what aspects of the Cartesian project are still worth doing; the significance of simplicity and other theoretical virtues; the relevance of skeptical hypotheses; the difference between a theory of rational belief and a theory of knowledge; the difference between a theory of rational belief and a theory of rational degrees of belief; and the limits of idealization in epistemology.

Many interpretations of Hume’s Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion have labored under the assumption that one of the characters represents Hume’s view on the Design Argument, and Philo is often selected for this role. I reject this opinion by showing that Philo is inconsistent. He offers a decisive refutation of the Design Argument, yet later endorses this very argument. I then dismiss two prominent ways of handling Philo’s reversal: first, I show that Philo is not ironic either in his skepticism or in his theistic reversal. Second, I reject the suggestion that the Design Argument is a natural belief, since it differs significantly from causal and external world beliefs. Finally, I argue that the control the Design Argument exerts is the product of a youthful indoctrination that prevents Philo from consistently maintaining his skeptical position.

To what degree should we rely on our own resources and methods to form opinions about important matters? To what degree should we depend on various authorities, such as a recognized expert or a social tradition? In this provocative account of intellectual trust and authority, Richard Foley argues that it can be reasonable to have intellectual trust in oneself even though it is not possible to provide a defence of the reliability of one's faculties, methods and opinions that does not beg the question. Moreover, he shows how this account of intellectual self-trust can be used to understand the degree to which it is reasonable to rely on alternative authorities. This book will be of interest to advanced students and professionals working in the fields of philosophy and the social sciences as well as anyone looking for a unified account of the issues at the centre of intellectual trust.

All of us get opinions from other people. And not just a few. We acquire opinions from others extensively and do so from early childhood through virtually every day of the rest our lives. Sometimes we rely on others for relatively inconsequential information. Is it raining outside? Did the Yankees win today? But we also depend on others for important or even life preserving information. Where is the nearest hospital? Do people drive on the left or the right here? We acquire opinions from family and close acquaintances but also from strangers. We get directions from and heed the warnings of individuals we’ve never met, and likewise read books and articles and listen to television and radio reports authored by individuals we don’t know personally. Moreover, we undertake inquiries in groups in which the group relies on the conclusions of the individuals making up the group. In some of these collective efforts everyone knows one another, for example, a set of neighbors taking a census of birds in the neighborhood. But others, such as the effort to understand gravity, are not so nearly self-contained. Indeed, many of the most impressive human intellectual accomplishments are the collective products of individuals far removed from another in location (and sometimes even over time) who rely on each other’s conclusions without feeling the need to re-confirm them.