Tony Milligan

Gilbert Harman claims that we would be better off if we abandoned appeal to character in order to explain action. He argues that the idea of character is a hangover from folk psychology and conflicts with the more reliable evidence of experimental psychology. The cash value of abandoning any appeal to character is given in the following terms: appeals to character reinforce our stereotyping and general misunderstanding of others, abandoning it will help to improve the quality of our understanding of others. What follows will be part contrast and part argument. My concern will be to reject Harman’s character scepticism by resisting his account of what it is to have a character trait. He fails to give desire its due. To set out a contrasting desire-centred view I will draw upon Iris Murdoch. The paper concludes by challenging Harman’s treatment of the experimental evidence

To desire is to want, but not necessarily to be disposed to do anything. That is to say, desiring does not necessarily involve having any disposition to act. To lend plausibility to this view I appeal to the example of whimsical desires that no action could help us to realise. What may lead us to view certain desires as whimsical is precisely the absence of any possibility of realizing them. While such desires might seem less than full-blooded, I argue that we can have full-blooded desires concerning such matters because of our (non-whimsical) concern for others. That is to say, whimsical desires can have a borrowed seriousness. The article goes on to strengthen the separability of dispositions and desires by narrowing down the concept of triggering conditions for a disposition. If we allow the triggering conditions to be too broad then it will always make sense to say that someone with a desire simply must have a disposition because, all other things being equal, they would bring about what they desire if they were able to do so.

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.