Jonathan L. Kvanvig

Alvin Plantinga and John Pollock both think that coherentism is a mistaken theory of justification, and they do so for different reasons. In spite of these differences, there are remarkable connections between their criticisms. Part of my goal here is to show what these connections are. I will show that Plantinga’s construal of coherentism presupposes Pollock’s arguments against that view, and I will argue that coherentists need not breathe their last in response to the contentions of either. Coherentism may be a mistaken theory of justification, but if it is, it is not shown to be so by either Plantinga or Pollock

Anti-intellectualist theories of knowledge claim that in some way or other, practical stakes are involved in whether knowledge is present (or, where the view iscontextualist, whether sentences about knowledge are true in a given context). Interest in pragmatic encroachment arose with the development of contextualist theories concerning knowledge ascriptions. In these cases, there is an initial situation in which hardly anything is at stake, and knowledge is easily ascribed. The subsequent situation is one where the costs of being wrong are fairly significant from a practical point of view, and the claim made by pragmatic encroachers is that knowledge should not be ascribed in such situations and typically is not by competent speakers. My goal here is to show how mistaken the idea of pragmatic encroachment is.

The best defense of the doctrine of the Incarnation implies that traditional Christianity has a special stake in the knowability paradox, a stake not shared by other theistic perspectives or by non-traditional accounts of the Incarnation. Perhaps, this stake is not even shared by antirealism, the view most obviously threatened by the paradox. I argue for these points, concluding that these results put traditional Christianity at a disadvantage compared to other viewpoints, and I close with some comments about the extent of the burden incurred

Suppose we want to know whether a person justifiably believes a certain claim. Further, suppose that our interest in this question is because we take such justification to be necessary for knowledge. To justifiably believe a claim requires more than there being a justification for that claim. Presumably, there is a justification for accepting all sorts of scientific theories of which I have no awareness; because of my lack of awareness, I do not justifiably believe those theories. Further, even if I, by chance, did believe one of those theories, I might not justifiably believe it; for I may be completely unaware of any justification for it. I then would not believe it..

The knowability paradox derives from a proof by Frederic Fitch in 1963. The proof purportedly shows that if all truths are knowable, it follows that all truths are known. Antirealists, wed as they are to the idea that truth is epistemic, feel threatened by the proof. For what better way to express the epistemic character of truth than to insist that all truths are knowable? Yet, if that insistence logically compels similar assent to some omniscience claim, antirealism is in jeopardy. Response to the paradox has drifted toward a common theme, a theme I will argue is a non-starter in resolving the paradox. Seeing this point will also make clear the philosophical inadequacy of simply viewing the paradox as a refutation of a wide range of antirealisms.

Contextualists claim two important virtues for their view. First, contextualism is a non-skeptical epistemology, given the plausible idea that not all contexts invoke the high standards for knowledge needed to generate the skeptical conclusion that we know little or nothing. Second, contextualism is able to preserve closure concerning knowledge – the idea that knowledge is extendable on the basis of competent deduction from known premises. As long as one keeps the context fixed, it is plausible to think that some closure principle can be articulated that will survive scrutiny. Opponents of contextualism often try to gain an advantage over it by claiming that their view mimics these virtues of contextualism as well as having other virtues. A recent example of the same is termed ‘contrastivism," as presented by Jonathan Schaffer. I will argue that the representation made is chimerical, that in fact contrastivism has no hope of mirroring these twin virtues of contextualism.

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.