Tony Milligan

What is love? What is it to be loved? Can we trust love? Is it overrated? These are just some of the questions Tony Milligan pursues in his novel exploration of a subject that has occupied philosophers since the time of Plato. Tackling the mood of pessimism about the nature of love that reaches back through Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard, he examines the links between love and grief, love and nature, and between love of others and loving oneself. We love too few things in the world, Milligan concludes, adding that we need to be loved too, to appreciate our own value and the worth of life itself

My primary concern will be to cast light upon the relation between animal guardians ('pet owners') and pets as a deep relation. I will proceed with a degree of indirectness by explaining why animal guardians can have an epistemically-privileged position when it comes to end-of-life decisions concerning pets. My contention is that they are best placed to grasp the relevant narrative considerations upon which end-of-life deliberation in marginal cases ought to depend. Such narrative-appreciation is built into the practice of treating animals as pets. By virtue of having such a narrative appreciation, animal guardians can be best placed to grasp the life-role of pain and suffering.

Iris Murdoch's philosophical texts depart significantly from familiar analytic discursive norms. (Such as the norms concerning argument structure and the minimization of rhetoric.) This may lead us to adopt one of two strategies. On the one hand an assimilation strategy that involves translation of Murdoch's claims into the more familiar terms of property-realism (the terminology of ethical naturalism and non-naturalism). On the other hand, there is the option of adopting a crossover strategy and reading Murdoch as (in some sense) a philosopher who belongs more properly to the continental tradition. The following article argues that if familiar Quinean claims about ontological commitment and Murdoch's account of metaphor are both broadly correct then the assimilation strategy must fail to produce a faithful translation. Nonetheless, Murdoch's connection to the analytic tradition is more than genealogical, it is more than a matter of her writing (initially) in response to analytic contemporaries before branching off in a more continental direction. While she departs from familiar analytic discursive norms, she continues to accept most of the epistemic values (such as clarity and simplicity) that the norms embody

In analytic moral philosophy it is standard to use unrealistic puzzles to set up moral dilemmas of a sort that I will call Lockean Puzzles. This paper will try to pinpoint just what is and what is not problematic about their use as a teaching tool or component part of philosophical arguments. I will try to flesh out the claim that what may be lost sight of in such Lockean puzzling is the personal dimension of moral deliberation—for example, moral problems differ from technical problems in the sense that they are non‐transferable, we cannot hand them over to others for solution.

Iris Murdoch holds that the best sort of life is a figurative death of the self. This figurative death is informed by an acceptance of real mortality. A recognition of mortality is supposed to help redirect our attention away from self and towards others. Yet these others are also mortal but (unlike the self) remain worthy of love, care and consideration. That is to say, the significance of mortality for Murdoch depends on whose mortality is at issue, whether it is the mortality of the self or of the other that is in question. My rejection of two ways of making sense of this self/other asymmetry is used to motivate the view that her attitude towards death requires a prior commitment to unselfing. And this is a problematic moral project.

For sexual purposes, animals are off limits. But if we regard attributions of species membership as unimportant in familiar ethical contexts, then it may be difficult to explain why this is the case. Someone who is unimpressed by appeals to species membership as a basis for favoring humans over non-humans may remain similarly unimpressed by such appeals when sex becomes an issue. Species barriers may seem to be beside the point. Peter Singer’s attitude toward human sexual relations with non-humans leans heavily in this direction. In a notorious book review where more was perhaps implied than said, Singer advanced the claim that, in the absence of any cruelty or physical harm, sexual relations with non-human animals would not be “an offence to our status and dignity.” And, insofar as we do not regard status and dignity as the main issue here, we may be inclined to agree. However, what follows will lean in the opposite direction to Singer and will argue that once we have set aside any consideration of status and dignity, we will still have significant grounds for ruling out familiar forms of sex with familiar, terrestrial, non-human animals under ordinary circumstances that fall short of the fictionally-extreme. However, the grounds in question turn out to concern something other than species membership simpliciter

The following paper sets out a view of humility that is derived from Iris Murdoch but which differs from a strict Murdochian approach in two important respects. Firstly, any association with self-abnegation is removed; and secondly, the value of a limited form of pride (recognition pride) is affirmed. The paper is nevertheless strongly continuous with her work, in the sense that it builds upon her rejection of universalizability on the specific grounds that we have varying moral competences. A liberal commitment to equality should not be allowed to spill out of the political domain. We are not all equal when it comes to the demands of morality. Humility is treated as a just discernment of our own limited moral competences. As such, it is a recognition of our particularity and not a form of radical self-effacement