Brian Ribeiro

Brian Ribeiro argues that the pragmatic theory of truth massively misrepresents the actual use of the terms “true” and “truth.” Truths, he observes, can be distinguished from “illusions.” The latter misrepresent reality and the former do not. Psychologists, as they report on the way mentally healthy people commonly overestimate themselves, draw just this distinction. They tell us of many beliefs that are “adaptive” but illusory. Pragmatists cannot draw this distinction because their theory explains truth as adaptiveness. Therefore no sensible person will be a pragmatist. In fact, however, Ribeiro paints a flawed picture of what both psychologists and pragmatists do. Psychologists provide us not with “reality-based accurate beliefs” but instead with beliefs that work, and pragmatists do not identify all beliefs that are adaptive or useful for individuals as true. Pragmatism turns out to be quite sensible, though often misunderstood.

Disagreement as we find it in both the history and the contemporary practice of philosophy is an inadequately understood phenomenon. In this paper I outline and motivate the problem of disagreement, arguing that "hard cases" of disagreement confront us with an unresolved, and seemingly unresolvable, challenge to the rationality of philosophical discourse, thereby raising the specter of a worri-some form of metaphilosophical skepticism. A variety of responses and attempted evasions are considered, though none are found to be particularly satisfying: Thus, the specter remains unexorcised. El desacuerdo que encontramos tanto en la historia como en la práctica contemporánea de la filosofía es un fenómeno mal entendido. En este trabajo hago un esbozo y aduzco los motivos del problema del desacuerdo, argumentando que los "casos difíciles" de desacuerdo nos confrontan con un problema sin resolver y al parecer sin posibilidad de resolverse, que pone en duda la racionalidad del discurso filosófico, y con lo cual surge el espectro de una preocupante forma de escepticismo metafilosófico. Examino varias respuestas y tentativas de evasiones, aunque ninguna de ellas es particularmente satisfactoria. Así, el espectro sigue sin ser exorcizado.

Various evangelists of the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries are credited with having asked some version of the question “Why must the Devil have all the good tunes?” If we were to substitute “externalists” for the Devil and “books” for tunes, the question would be a good one to ask about recent work on skepticism. Greco’s book, like Michael Williams’s penetrating Unnatural Doubts, is both a defense of a form of externalism and one of the finest books on skepticism of recent vintage. It seems that on all sides epistemologists are coming to see that dealing with skeptical problems is not only necessary but also philosophically rewarding. In this matter I am in complete agreement with both Greco and Williams, and Greco’s book, like Williams’s, may serve the cause of bringing new converts around to our way of seeing things.

Though it seems rather surprising in retrospect, until about twenty-five years ago no philosopher in the Western tradition had explicitly formulated the question whether there could be an epistemic analogue to practical akrasia. Also surprisingly, despite the prima facie analogue with practical akrasia (the possibility of which is not much disputed), much of the recent work on this question has defended the rather bold view that epistemic akrasia is impossible. While the arguments purporting to show the impossibility of epistemic akrasia have been criticized by some, I propose instead to make a head-on attack and defend the substantive view that epistemic akrasia is possible — indeed, actual. This leaves for another day the project of diagnosing exactly where the arguments for the impossibility of epistemic akrasia go wrong. Here, I content myself with trying to show that they must go wrong, since — as I will argue — epistemic akrasia is possible.