Marga Reimer

Standard attempts to defend Russell's Theory of Descriptions against the problem posed by incomplete descriptions, are discussed and dismissed as inadequate. It is then suggested that one such attempt, one which exploits the notion of a contextually delimited domain of quantification, may be applicable to incomplete quantifier expressions which are typically treated as quantificational: expressions of the form AllF's, NoF's, SomeF's, Exactly eightF's, etc. In this way, one is able to retain the plausible claim that such expressions ought to receive their usual quantificational analyses. The conclusion tentatively drawn is that perhaps definite descriptions arenot amenable to a (Russellian) quantificational analysis.

My intention in this paper is to propose a conception of metaphorical meaning on which the meaning of a metaphor includes propositional as well as non-propositional features. I will make two general claims on behalf of the proposed account: first, it is intuitive; second, it is of theoretical value. In claiming that the proposed account is of theoretical value, I mean only that its adoption leads to an increased understanding of the nature of metaphor: of metaphorical thought and ofmetaphorical communication in particular.

In his classic paper, “Delusional thinking and perceptual disorder,” Brendan Maher (1974) argues that psychiatric delusions are hypotheses designed to explain anomalous experiences, and are “developed through the operation of normal cognitive processes.” Consider, for instance, the Capgras delusion. Patients suffering from this particular delusion believe that someone close to them—such as a spouse, a sibling, a parent, or a child—has been replaced by an impostor: by someone who bears a striking resemblance to the “original” and who (for reasons unknown) is intent on passing herself off as that individual. On Maher's view, the “Impostor Hypothesis” is the response of a rational agent to the anomalous experience it is invoked to explain. Recently, a number of philosophers have argued that Maher's analysis of delusion doesn't work when applied to the Capgras delusion. In this paper, I defend Maher's analysis against these arguments. However, my aim is not merely to defend Maher's analysis, but also to draw attention to some of the methodological problems that have led to its hasty dismissal

Kripke and Dummett disagree over whether or not there could have been unicorns. Kripke thinks that there could not have been; Dummett thinks otherwise. I argue that Kripke is correct: there are no counterfactual situations properly describable as ones in which there would have been unicorns. In attempting to establish this claim, I argue that Dummett's critique of an argument (reminiscent of an argument of Kripke's) to the conclusion that there could not have been unicorns, is vitiated by a conflation of two superficially similar, though importantly different, claims. I then attempt to provide an account of the counter-intuitiveness of Kripke's position, arguing that the claim that there could not have been unicorns is best understood as a semantic, rather than metaphysical, claim. Finally, I provide a brief argument on behalf of the semantics of species terms that appears to underpin Kripke's position.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reflections on InsightDilemmas, Paradoxes, and PuzzlesMarga Reimer (bio)Keywordsinsight, psychosis, treatment adherence, medical model, autonomy, open placebos, rationalityThe Practitioner's DilemmaThe psychiatrist aware of the potential intractability of what Jennifer Radden calls "insightlessness," faces a dilemma. Should she encourage her patient to embrace a medical model of his "troubles," a model whose adoption is likely to motivate treatment adherence? She might then be trying to do the impossible; she might also alienate her patient in the process. Should she instead encourage her insightless patient to embrace his own non-medical model, according to which treatment adherence makes no medical sense whatsoever? She might then see herself as encouraging a kind of uninformed consent: Her insightless patient might be taking powerful, potentially harmful, medication for reasons (such as sound sleep and "peace of mind") that would never medically justify adherence.In my original paper, I suggested that the way out of this dilemma might be to embrace the latter option, while characterizing the very real (and medically based) benefits of treatment adherence in non-medical terms. I now realize that my proposed resolution reflects an oversimplified understanding of what might be called the "practitioner's dilemma." As Michaela Amering (2010) makes clear, the situation for those with mental illness is improving dramatically. With "recovery orientation" as the "guiding principle of mental health policy," the emphasis is on "health promotion, individual strengths, and resilience." The question becomes: Can the practitioner encourage her insightless patient to partake in this "recovery" movement if she does not simultaneously encourage him to embrace a medicalized understanding of his "troubles"?Not obviously. For although a "recovery" model might eschew notions like illness1 and disease, pathology and dysfunction, and even schizophrenia, it will inevitably involve some medical notions. The patient who partakes in the "recovery movement" described by Amering, would seem to have no choice but to accept a model that is essentially medical. Consider the language used by Amering in characterizing that movement. She talks of mental health problems, therapeutic relations, patient self-determination, diagnosis and, of course, recovery. The concepts underlying such language are intrinsic to the patient-oriented movement Amering describes. The question becomes:How can the insightless patient rationally partake in such a movement without embracing some version of the medical model of mental illness? [End Page 85]This question suggests the importance of promoting some kind of insight, even if not insight "into psychosis." At the close of these comments, I consider briefly what such "revisionary" insight might involve.Paradoxes of Conditional and Relinquished AutonomyAutonomy among patients with psychosis presupposes the sort of clear-headedness that arguably comes only with treatment adherence. This may provide some justification for the "coercive treatments" that Anthony (2006) finds so offensive. For patients with psychosis, genuine autonomy is conditional, requiring some degree of insight: Recognition that their "troubles" are at least amenable to medical treatment. Once the patient recognizes this, he can choose freely to decline such treatment (regardless of whether that choice is ultimately respected). Call this the "paradox of conditional autonomy." The conditional nature of autonomy is a familiar point in philosophical discussions regarding free will. There is no genuine freedom without the sort of knowledge required for informed choices. What distinguishes the patient with psychosis from persons more generally is that his autonomy is further conditioned: The knowledge required for autonomous decision making arguably requires some degree of treatment adherence.However, the mentally ill patient has the right, as do all patients, to relinquish autonomy. He may opt for deference to, and dependency on, the relevant experts: Mental health care professionals (Campbell 1994). We are led once again to paradox. To respect the patient's autonomy, the mental health care professional must respect his right to forego autonomy in favor of deference and dependency. This paradoxical situation, involving a kind of deferred autonomy, is not unique to psychiatry but applies to medicine across the board. Indeed, it applies to the human service industry more generally where, as McGorry (1992) suggests, there is an implicit assumption that the service user is to defer to the expertise of the service provider.This assumption is rightly challenged. Suppose Justin and...

Whether your scepticism is as absolute and sincere as you claim is something we shall learn later on, when we end this little meeting: we’ll then see whether you leave the room through the door or the window; and whether you really doubt that your body has gravity and can be injured by its fall—which is what people in general think on the basis of their fallacious senses and more fallacious experience. What Could Be more dissimilar than a well-argued philosophical thesis and a psychiatric delusion? Compare, for instance, Hume’s (1739) view that the self is nothing more than a “bundle” of perceptions with the psychiatric patient’s view that the thoughts in his head belong to someone else. Or, compare the ..