Paul Guyer

In this paper, however, I will argue that Kant’s restriction of interest to natural rather than artistic beauty should not be taken as a basic aspect of his aesthetic theory, and thus need not affect our assessment of that theory’s more basic claims. First, I will suggest that Kant’s theory of intellectual interest is not really necessary to explain what we ordinarily mean by an interest in beautiful objects—a desire to preserve them for repeated experience, a motivation for our efforts to see them and our willingness to pay for them, and the like—and that the exclusion of art from a special moral interest thus does not leave our general interest in its objects unexplained. But, I will also argue, Kant’s own theory of art and our response to it actually allows beauties of art to have just as much claim to this intellectual interest as do objects of natural beauty. Kant’s differentiation of natural and artistic beauty with regard to moral interest turns on an ambiguity in the concept of nature itself, as well as on Kant’s assumptions that art, unlike nature, is a product of an intention to produce pleasure through determinately conceived objects, and that our response to art, again unlike that to nature, must be connected to a recognition of its intentionality. But Kant’s own theory of artistic creation—his theory of genius—undermines the force of the first of these assumptions, for it teaches us that art, while indeed the product of intentional activity, also calls upon the use of a natural talent that deserves our admiration as much as any other gift of nature. In other words, Kant’s own view of the complexity of artistic intentions forbids the simple differentiation of art and nature that he employs in §42, and while Kant’s theory of aesthetic response does not clearly preclude the view that our response to art must take into account the intentions with which art is produced, it also hardly entails this view. This may have been obscured from Kant by the indeterminacy of his own key concept of the freedom of the imagination, but, I will suggest, this freedom might actually have to be extended to the case of art if it is to work even in Kant’s paradigmatic case of natural beauty. Thus, on Kant’s own account the beauties of nature and of art are far more intimately connected, both in their own ontological status and in our response to them, than his theory of intellectual interest concedes.

This book examines the presence of idealism in modern philosophy from the seventeenth century to the turn of the twenty-first. We define idealism proper as the position that reality is ultimately mental or conceptual in nature, to be contrasted to materialism or physicalism. So defined, idealism has hardly been a popular view, at least in the twentieth century. But we distinguish between metaphysical and epistemological arguments for idealism, and argue that while the former have rarely been popular, the latter are so, and present in many philosophers who would hardly call themselves idealists. We conclude that metaphysical arguments in favor of a reduction of all reality to either mind or matter are highly questionable, because we have no reason to believe that we have arrived at an adequate understanding of either. However, epistemological arguments in favor of idealism that point to some version of conceptual idealism or other are indeed difficult to avoid.

Like Hobbes and unlike Locke, Kant denied the possibility of a right to rebellion. But unlike Hobbes, Kant did not argue for a unitary head of state in whom legislative, judicial, and executive powers are inseparable, and thus did not believe that the executive power in a state to whom must be conceded a monopoly of coercion also defines all rights in the state. Instead, Kant insisted upon the necessary division of authority in a state into a separate legislature, executive, and judiciary, and thus, while rejecting the idea that a people could ever rightfully overthrow their entire constitution or government, he could and did hold that a people represented by a parliament have genuine rights against the executive power within their state even though that executive power properly has a monopoly on the coercive enforcement of the parliament's laws.

Kant suggests that the chief advantage of his theory of taste over Hume’s is its a priori rather than empirical foundation. But his claim to have provided such a foundation for judgments of taste is questionable, and, in the end, both authors ground judgments of taste in a canon of proven or classical objects of taste rather than in determinate principles of taste. However, Kant does go beyond Hume in sketching a theory of aesthetic production, as well as reception in the form of his theory of artistic genius, according to which works of genius can be exemplars for the originality of subsequent artists as well as stimuli for the free play of imagination and understanding in their audiences.

Marcus Willaschek’s new book Kant on the Sources of Metaphysics: The Dialectic of Pure Reason is a penetrating analysis of the Transcendental Dialectic of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. In his comments, the author first raises some questions concerning the structure of the Transcendental Dialectic and then proposes that looking at the second Critique and continuing on into the third Critique will reveal more roles for the idea of God in Kant’s reconstruction of traditional metaphysics than Willaschek’s treatment suggests.

In his notes and lectures on anthropology, Kant explicitly refers to Alexander Gerard's 1774 Essay on Genius, and his own position that genius is necessary for art but not for science is clearly a response to Gerard. Kant does not explicitly mention Gerard's 1759 Essay on Taste, but it was probably an influence on his own conception of free play, and in any case a comparison of the two theories of aesthetic response is instructive. Gerard's development of a version of the theory of free play without Kant's assumptions that aesthetic judgments must be independent of concepts and yet always intersubjectively valid allows him to accommodate a variety of facts about aesthetic experience in general and our experience of the fine arts in particular more readily and more fully than Kant can, especially those concerning the affective dimension of our experience of art.

This paper compares the outwardly similar structural formalisms of Marc- Antoine Laugier and Arthur Schopenhauer. Laugier purports to base his aesthetics on an historical argument from the “primitive hut”; but his preferences are really based on aversion to structurally and programmatically non-functional elements. His preferences show disregard for purely aesthetic considerations, such as pleasing proportions. Schopenhauer’s formalism is based on his cognitivist approach to aesthetics, according to which architecture is above all supposed to demonstrate relations between load and support, but in spite of this shows greater sensitivity to sensory beauty.

Two claims stand behind my title. I will argue first that, if we read Immanuel Kant’s moral philosophy the way I do, in which rationality is the means to the end of human freedom rather than being an end in itself, then Kant offers a fuller example of what Stanley Cavell calls Emersonian perfectionism, but which I will call Cavell’s own perfectionism, than Cavell himself has recognized even in his most sympathetic account of Kant, and can help us see the full power of such perfectionism. Second, I will argue that there is a deep affinity between the views of moral education with which Kant and Cavell accompany their examples of moral perfectionism, in that each thinks that examples of the possibility of actually..