Robert Pasnau

The Cambridge History of Medieval Philosophy comprises over fifty specially commissioned essays by experts on the philosophy of this period. Starting in the late eighth century, with the renewal of learning some centuries after the fall of the Roman Empire, a sequence of chapters takes the reader through developments in many and varied fields, including logic and language, natural philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, and theology. Close attention is paid to the context of medieval philosophy, with discussions of the rise of the universities and developments in the cultural and linguistic spheres. A striking feature is the continuous coverage of Islamic, Jewish, and Christian material. There are useful biographies of the philosophers, and a comprehensive bibliography. The volumes illuminate a rich and remarkable period in the history of philosophy and will be the authoritative source on medieval philosophy for the next generation of scholars and students alike.

After an initial, highly difficult question on the metaphysics of the bad, Aquinas turns his attention to bad action, and then very quickly turns to focus on the sort of bad actions most relevant to theology: voluntary bad action. At this point we are squarely in the moral domain, and so we might as well speak of bad actions as sins. In question 2, Aquinas takes up questions regarding the character of sin, assessing the way in which intentions, actions, objects, and circumstances contribute to the moral status of an action, and exploring questions about omissions and neutral actions. In question 3, he takes up the causes of sin, distinguishing among temptation, ignorance, weakness, and malice. Questions 4–5 turn to original sin; question 6 contains his most extensive and sophisticated treatment of free will; question 7 discusses venial sins ; questions 8–15 discuss the seven deadly sins ; finally, question 16 rounds out the volume with a fascinating discussion of the psychology of devils, and their relationship to us.

The Cambridge History of Medieval Philosophy comprises over fifty specially commissioned essays by experts on the philosophy of this period. Starting in the late eighth century, with the renewal of learning some centuries after the fall of the Roman Empire, a sequence of chapters take the reader through developments in many and varied fields, including logic and language, natural philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, and theology. Close attention is paid to the context of medieval philosophy, with discussions of the rise of the universities and developments in the cultural and linguistic spheres. A striking feature is the continuous coverage of Islamic, Jewish, and Christian material. There are useful biographies of the philosophers, and a comprehensive bibliography. The volume illuminates a rich and remarkable period in the history of philosophy and will be the authoritative source on medieval philosophy for the next generation of scholars and students alike.

The Cambridge History of Medieval Philosophy comprises over fifty specially commissioned essays by experts on the philosophy of this period. Starting in the late eighth century, with the renewal of learning some centuries after the fall of the Roman Empire, a sequence of chapters take the reader through developments in many and varied fields, including logic and language, natural philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, and theology. Close attention is paid to the context of medieval philosophy, with discussions of the rise of the universities and developments in the cultural and linguistic spheres. A striking feature is the continuous coverage of Islamic, Jewish, and Christian material. There are useful biographies of the philosophers, and a comprehensive bibliography. The volume illuminates a rich and remarkable period in the history of philosophy and will be the authoritative source on medieval philosophy for the next generation of scholars and students alike.

Scholastic philosophers in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries advanced original and sophisticated accounts of the nature of cognition and mental representation. This dissertation analyzes some of the debates of that period, beginning with Thomas Aquinas and going on to consider a number of his most penetrating critics: Henry of Ghent , Peter John Olivi , William Ockham , and William Crathorn . The study begins with some of the theoretical foundations of scholastic theories of cognition, such as the nature of cognition, the link between cognition and immateriality, and the sense in which mental representation rests on a similarity between our ideas and the external world. Debate over these issues led later scholastics to give increasing attention to epistemology and the threat of skepticism. Henry of Ghent's epistemological focus led him to formulate an interesting and original argument for the Augustinian theory of divine illumination. Other scholastics--in particular Olivi and Ockham--were similarly concerned that the standard Aristotelian theory of cognition, as formulated by Aquinas, would lead to skepticism. Their response was to reject a central feature of Aquinas's account: that our knowledge of the external world is mediated by internal impressions . Olivi and Ockham eliminate such intermediaries entirely. For them our knowledge of the external world is throughly direct, and they reject the distinction, which I argue is central to Aquinas's account, between acts of cognition and internal objects for those acts. I conclude that the work of Olivi and Ockham is significant primarily because it challenges the picture of mind that comes so naturally to us: that the mind is a repository of images and ideas that are the inner objects of our perceptions and thoughts. ;The dissertation's second volume contains translations of the central texts

There is some temptation to say that the history of Aristotle in medieval Latin philosophy is just the history of medieval Latin philosophy, but this would be to oversimplify matters. The fountainhead of Christian philosophy, Augustine, betrays almost no familiarity with Aristotelian thought, and describes in the Confessions how he was underwhelmed by a reading of the Categories at the age of twenty. Boethius aspired to translate into Latin and comment upon the whole Aristotelian corpus, and reconcile it with Plato as well, but only a fraction of the project was completed. Moreover, even once the influence of Aristotle was felt in its full force—and even more so before then—Platonism remained a strong influence on Latin philosophy. This article discusses the rise of scholastic Aristotelianism and its eventual decline, the history of Aristotelianism in the Latin West, the distinctive character of scholastic Aristotelianism, and disagreements within scholastic Aristotelianism.

Controversy over the epistemology of disagreement endures because there is an unnoticed factor at work: the intrinsic value we give to self-trust. Even if there are many instances of disagreement where, from a strictly epistemic or rational point of view, we ought to suspend belief, there are other values at work that influence our all-things considered judgments about what we ought to believe. Hence those who would give equal-weight to both sides in many cases of disagreement may be right, from the perspective of pure rationality. But their critics are right too, in seeing something undesirable in the consequences of giving equal weight. Among epistemologists, there is a tendency to set aside trust and other such non-epistemic factors, on the grounds that these are not germane to their topic. But ultimately, the value of self-trust shows signs of encroaching on the strictly epistemic question of when our beliefs may be said to be justified. Hence again, even if the equal-weighters are right about what is rational, they may be wrong about what knowledge requires.

In a recent book, I attempt to use the metaphysics of Thomas Aquinas to defend a moderate view regarding abortion: that an abortion at any time during a pregnancy should be considered a grave loss, but that it should be considered murder only after roughly the middle of the second trimester. John Haldane and Patrick Lee contend that I have misunderstood the implications of Aquinas's view, and that in fact his metaphysics supports the conclusion that a human being comes into existence at the moment of conception. In this paper, I make a brief reply.

This volume collects thirteen papers by Robert Audi on action theory, all but two previously published, and dating back as far as the early 1970s. The reader should not be misled by the book's publicity, which proclaims that we are being given "for the first time... a full version of his [Audi's] theory of... human action". Despite such claims, this volume is no more than a collection of papers, and consequently it does not offer the depth and continuity one would expect from a book-length treatment. Still, this is a collection of very fine papers, and collectively they constitute an important and influential theory of action.

Reply to NormoreCalvin Normore offers a very interesting big-picture thesis about the later medieval period, one with multiple components. First, he thinks the first quarters of the thirteenth century—the era of Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas—are “gobsmacked” by the recovery of Aristotle’s work, and hence are “anomalous.” Second he thinks that, once the gobsmacking is over, the philosophers—beginning with Peter John Olivi and onward into the fourteenth century—return to “building upon the insights of the twelfth century”—that is, back to the era of Peter Abelard and others. Third, he thinks that this broader movement—what one gets if one sets aside the anomaly of Thomas Aquinas and his era—is characterized by a broader interest in the whole spectrum of ancient philosophical traditions, so that it is not just Aristotelian, but also Platonic and Stoic and Epicurean and much else. Fourth, this broadening movement sees its culmination in the seventeenth century, when the authority of

The story Wippel tells in this brief but valuable volume is a familiar one, of how the early medieval consensus on the relationship between faith and reason collapsed in the thirteenth century under siege from radical Aristotelians at the University of Paris. Wippel gives his account in clear terms especially well suited to beginning students. Although there are few novelties in this volume, everything is based on the most up-to-date research, and a third of the volume consists of detailed notes that will be the most valuable resource here for scholars already familiar with the basic story.

Philosophers today have largely given up on the project of categorizing being. Aristotle’s ten categories now strike us as quaint, and no attempt to improve on that effort meets with much interest. Still, no one supposes that reality is smoothly distributed over space. The world at large comes in chunks, and there remains a widespread intuition, even among philosophers, that some of these chunks have a special sort of unity and persistence. These, we tend to suppose, are most truly agents and subjects, and are what exist in the most proper sense of the term. We believe, in other words, in substances.

The Cambridge History of Medieval Philosophy comprises over fifty specially commissioned essays by experts on the philosophy of this period. Starting in the late eighth century, with the renewal of learning some centuries after the fall of the Roman Empire, a sequence of chapters takes the reader through developments in many and varied fields, including logic and language, natural philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, and theology. Close attention is paid to the context of medieval philosophy, with discussions of the rise of the universities and developments in the cultural and linguistic spheres. A striking feature is the continuous coverage of Islamic, Jewish, and Christian material. There are useful biographies of the philosophers, and a comprehensive bibliography. The volumes illuminate a rich and remarkable period in the history of philosophy and will be the authoritative source on medieval philosophy for the next generation of scholars and students alike.

The secondary qualities are those qualities of objects that bear a certain relation to our sensory powers: roughly, they are those qualities that we can readily detect only through a certain distinctive phenomenal experience. Contrary to what is sometimes supposed, there is nothing about the world itself (independent of our minds) that determines the distinction between primary and secondary qualities. Instead, a theory of the secondary qualities must be grounded in facts about how we conceive of these qualities, and ultimately in facts about human perception.

Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy showcases the best scholarly research in this flourishing field. The series covers all aspects of medieval philosophy, including the Latin, Arabic, and Hebrew traditions, and runs from the end of antiquity into the Renaissance. It publishes new work by leading scholars in the field, and combines historical scholarship with philosophical acuteness. The papers will address a wide range of topics, from political philosophy to ethics, and logic to metaphysics. OSMP is an essential resource for anyone working in the area.

A quick scan of the leading figures in western philosophy reveals that relatively few have made a name for themselves by defending intuitive, natural, and sensible positions. Aristotle is one, and perhaps Aquinas is another. Francisco Suarez, the sixteenth-century Spanish scholastic, would be a third. His invariable working procedure is to give copious consideration to the various ancient and medieval views, and then to find some sensible compromise position. But today Suarez can hardly claim to have a broad readership. Of his fifty-four Metaphysical Disputations, only nine have now been published in English, while his other works remain almost entirely untranslated. This clear and accurate new translation aims to show readers what they have been missing.

When objects are illuminated, the light they reflect does not simply bounce off their surface. Rather, that light is entirely reabsorbed and then reemitted, as the result of a complex microphysical event near the surface of the object. If we are to be physicalists regarding color, then we should analyze colors in terms of that event, just as we analyze heat in terms of molecular motion, and sound in terms of vibrations. On this account, colors are not standing properties of objects, but events, or (more cautiously) properties associated with events. Accordingly, objects in the dark are no more colored than a turned-off stove is hot. Such an account requires rejecting some of what folk ordinarily say about color, but this is the most coherent version of color physicalism.