Jonathan L. Kvanvig

A theory of creation plays a central role in a defence of the doctrine of providence, and the central philosophical difficulty faced in such a project is whether and how the doctrine of creation can be reconciled with the doctrine of providence without requiring a construal of human freedom that libertarians must reject. A common assumption is that one can have either full providence or human freedom, but not both. Molinists disagree, but the status of the central explanatory feature used by Molinists to find a way of preserving both providence and freedom — counterfactuals of freedom — remains controversial, both in terms of the existence of true counterfactuals of this sort and whether they can perform the function needed to reconcile providence and freedom. This chapter argues for a different solution to this problem, addressing first the relation between accounts of creation and providence in order to clear the conditions of adequacy on a theory of creation. In short, it argues that we want a theory of creation that leaves open the possibility of a doctrine of full and complete providence. It then shows that there that there is such a theory of creation available — one that does not require abandoning libertarianism. Finding such a theory involves a paradigm shift away from the standard semantic-metaphysical approaches to creation in favour of a more epistemic approach.

National Enquirer commercials tell us that some people want to know. I have no idea what such a desire has to do with reading tabloid journalism, but the avowal of wanting to know interests me. Maybe this desire is shared by all; at the very least, curiosity is universal. Curiosity may amount to a desire for knowledge, or perhaps it might be explained in other terms, such as a desire for understanding or for finding the truth. Perhaps none of these, even. Maybe the desire is only one of being able to make sense of one's experience of the world. Or maybe the important matter is not the existence of any desire at all. Perhaps, that is, it is not desire as such that drives the search, but rather some need or interest or purpose.

A dispute in epistemology has arisen over whether some class of things epistemic (things known or justified, for example) is closed under some operation involving the notion of what follows deductively from members of this class. Very few philosophers these days believe that if you know that p, and p entails q, then you know that q. But many philosophers think that something weaker holds, for instance that if you know that p, and p entails q, then you are in a position to know that p, or if you know that p and you competently deduce p from q, then you know that q. However there are some considerations tracing back to Wittgenstein’s On Certainty and some early work by Fred Dretske that suggests even these weaker principles are false.

Epistemology has for a long time focused on the concept of knowledge and tried to answer questions such as whether knowledge is possible and how much of it there is. Often missing from this inquiry, however, is a discussion on the value of knowledge. In The Value of Knowledge and the Pursuit of Understanding Jonathan Kvanvig argues that epistemology properly conceived cannot ignore the question of the value of knowledge. He also questions one of the most fundamental assumptions in epistemology, namely that knowledge is always more valuable than the value of its subparts. Taking Platos' Meno as a starting point of his discussion, Kvanvig tackles the different arguments about the value of knowledge and comes to the conclusion that knowledge is less valuable than generally assumed. Clearly written and well argued, this 2003 book will appeal to students and professionals in epistemology.

Mona Simion questions whether there is a distinction between taking back an assertion and taking back only the content of an assertion, as I have claimed. After arguing against the distinction in question, Simion grants that there is a difference between the cases that I use to illustrate the distinction, and thus turns to the task of explaining the difference in a way that keeps it from undermining the knowledge norm. The explanation she offers is in terms of a distinction between doing something that is wrong and doing something that is blameworthy. I respond here by defending the distinction and questioning the explanation she gives of it.

One response to the preface paradox—the paradox that arises when each claim in a book is justified for the author and yet in the preface the author avers that errors remain—counsels against the preface belief. It is this line of thought that poses a problem for any view that places a high value on intellectual humility. If we become suspicious of preface beliefs, it will be a challenge to explain how expressions of fallibility and intellectual humility are appropriate, whether voiced verbally or encoded mentally. Moreover, banning expressions of intellectual humility is especially disturbing in our context, for such a preface claim is just the sort of expression of intellectual humility that is supposed to provide a barrier to the costly damage that can be done by zealous faith found in various forms of fundamentalism. The goal is thus to find a way to express humility without engendering paradox.

Philosophical reflection concerning heaven and hell has focused on the place of such doctrines in the great monotheistic religions emanating from the religion of the ancient people of Israel--Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. The philosophical issues that arise concerning these doctrines is not limited to such traditions, however. Consider, for example, the doctrine of hell. Any religion promises certain benefits to its adherents, and these benefits require some contrast that befalls, or might befall, those who fail to adhere to the religion in question.