Jonathan L. Kvanvig

IN COMPARISON with other doctrines Cthe doctrine of omnipotence, for example Cthe proper formulation of the doctrine of omniscience has not seemed especially problematic. Once we accept the contemporary wisdom that knowledge is knowledge of truths, the formulation of the traditional doctrine seems straightforward: to be omniscient is just to know all truths. What has seemed problematic, rather, is whether the doctrine is itself true. In particular, many have wondered whether anyone can know the parts of the future not necessitated in any way by the present or past.

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.

Einstein was notoriously confident that God doesn’t play dice with the universe. Perhaps it is a confidence born of a deeper modal presumption: that Godcouldn’t play dice with the universe. If so, such confidence almost certainly disappoints. Even if God doesn’t play dice with the universe, he might. Thus arises the issue here addressed: what implications does this datum have for a proper understanding of divine providence? My interest is in theories that aim to present complete theories of providence, ones that refuse to relegate anything that happens to a domain falling outside the scope of providence. What we can learn about the parts of it that are most promising for a fully satisfying theory of providence, in light of the dice-playing possibility?

representations, for the unconditioned transcendent surpasses every possible conception of a being, including even the conception of a Supreme Being... It is the religious function of atheism ever to remind us that the religious act has to do with the unconditioned transcendent, and that the representations of the Unconditioned are not objects concerning whose existence.., a discussion would be possible. The word >God= involves a double meaning: it connotes the unconditioned transcendent, the ultimate, and also an object somehow endowed with qualities and actions. The first is not figurative or symbolic, but is rather in the strictest sense what it is said to be. The second, however, is really symbolic, figurative. = Tillich=s view on transcendence is a quite radical view. However, his view serves to illustrate two things: (i) the importance of the concept of transcendence in discussions about God, and (ii) the implications for religious language resulting from God..

Ernest Sosa's latest epistemology remains a version of virtue epistemology, and I argue here that it faces two central problems, pressing a point I have made elsewhere, that virtue epistemology does not present a complete answer to the problem of the value of knowledge. I will press this point regarding the nature of knowledge through variations on two standard Gettier examples here. The first is the Fake Barn case and the second is the Tom Grabit case. I will argue that Sosa's latest virtue epistemology fails to handle either case acceptably, and that as a result, cannot explain the value that knowledge has over that of the sum of any of its proper subparts. La última epistemología de Ernest Sosa continúa siendo una versión de epistemología de las virtudes, y siguiendo con una idea que ya planteé en otra parte, aquí argumento que afronta dos problemas centrales: que la epistemología de las virtudes no presenta una respuesta completa al problema del valor del conocimiento. Insistiré en esta idea sobre la naturaleza del conocimiento mediante variaciones de dos ejemplos estándares tipo Gettier. El primero es el caso del granero falso y el segundo es el caso de Tom Grabit. Argumentaré que la última epistemología de las virtudes de Sosa no maneja ninguno de estos casos de forma aceptable, y en consecuencia no puede explicar el valor que tiene el conocimiento por encima del de la suma de cualesquiera de sus propias partes.

In defending his rejection of Maverick Molinism (Faith and Philosophy 20.1, (January 2003), pp. 91-100) from my criticisms (Faith and Philosophy 19 (2002), pp. 348-357), Tom Flint attributes three central claims to my argument, and disagrees with two of them. He also notes my request for a defense of the Law of Conditional Excluded Middle, which his argument employs. He portrays that discussion as taking “potshots” at his argument, in part because I denied that concerns about the Law are compelling, but it is a mistake to think that controversial premises need no defense simply because the case against them is not compelling. Regarding the points where Flint is more forthcoming, one of his points places further demands on his rejection of this version of Molinism. The other point involves a serious misrepresentation of my argument.

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.

In recent years, epistemologists have become increasingly impressed with reliabilist theories of justification. 1 Reliabilism is often formulated as the claim that a belief is justified 2 just in case it is a reliable belief; however, this formulation can be somewhat misleading. There is a sense in which a set of beliefs can be reliable, just as a certain history or testimony can be reliable: what one means is that a certain set of propositions is highly accurate, has mostly true members, or is not wrong in any important way. Reliabilists, though, do not just want to say that a belief is justified just in case it is a member of a type with mostly true members, i.e., just in case it is probably true; they also want to appeal to the notion of reliability in that sense in which we say that persons, processes, proce­dures, tests, and experiments are reliable. Reliabilism is a view both about the reliability of beliefs and about the reliability of the person who has the belief or the procedure that is responsible for the belief.

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.

Some recent philosophers of religion have addressed the question of how, and whether it is possible, that the religious experiences some persons have had can give reasons for believing that God exists. Swinburne, for example, claims that what he calls the principle of credulity implies that the religious experiences of those that have them do provide evidence for others that God exists. He formulates the principle as follows: 1 (1) if it seems (epistemically) to a subject that x is present, then probably x is present (all else being equal).