Jon Robson

It is frequently claimed that we can learn very little, if anything, about the aesthetic character of an artwork on the basis of testimony. Such disparaging assessments of the epistemic value of aesthetic testimony contrast markedly with our acceptance of testimony as an important source of knowledge in many other areas. There have, however, been a number of challenges to this orthodoxy of late; from those who seek to deny that such a contrast exists as well as attempts by those who accept the distinction to provide an explanation and defence of the contrast. In Section I, I outline a little of the nature and history of the debate over aesthetic testimony. Section II, focuses on the opposing positions on aesthetic testimony, optimism and pessimism, and takes steps to clarify what exactly is at issue between them. In Section III, I survey considerations which have been adduced in favour of pessimism ranging from brute appeal to intuition to complex argumentation before turning in Section IV, to look at motivations for optimism. Finally, in Section V, I consider some alternative views which claim that, for a variety of reasons, it is a mistake to construe the debate over aesthetic testimony as concerned with the epistemic standing of aesthetic beliefs formed on the basis of testimony

In this paper I argue that the growing block theory of time has rather surprising, and hitherto unexplored, explanatory benefits when it comes to certain enduring philosophical puzzles concerning death. In particular, I claim the growing block theorist has readily available and convincing answers to the following questions: Why is it an evil to be dead but not an evil to be not yet born? How can death be an evil for the dead if they no longer exist to suffer it? When is death an evil for the one who dies? The ability to give such answers is a significant, but by no means decisive, advantage for the growing block view of time.

You're not as clever as you think you are. Nor for that matter are you as good a driver, teacher or romantic partner as you take yourself to be and, as if that wasn't bad enough, you are also considerably less popular than you have hitherto believed. Finally – and crucially for the argument of this paper – I contend that your abilities as an aesthetic judge are considerably less impressive than you take them to be. To avoid descending into name calling it's worth pointing out that such claims apply to the vast majority of people – myself, somewhat paradoxically, included.

Veronica Mars's hometown harbors a whole range of social ills. Neptune provides a very poor environment for nurturing trusting relationships. A typical resident of Neptune may quite reasonably be reluctant ever to trust fully his or her neighbors, co‐workers, and even closest friends. Veronica Mars is a far from being a typical resident of Neptune. Veronica is atypical in ways that should make her even less trusting than others in Neptune. It seems that there are some people whom Veronica genuinely trusts—at least some of the time: her father Keith, Wallace Fennel and Logan Echolls.. This chapter analyzes whether Veronica genuinely trusts anyone. It first explains what 'trust' really means. Veronica's relationship with Keith, her daddy, is the best place to look for a genuinely trusting relationship in Veronica's life. The trust between them isn't perfect. Sadly, the distrust between father and daughter goes much deeper than that.