Adam Moore

Criteria of ineffability are presented which, it is claimed, preclude the possibility of truths that are ineffable, but not the possibility of other things that are ineffable—not even the possibility of other things that are non-trivially ineffable. Specifically, they do not preclude the possibility of states of understanding that are ineffable. This, it is argued, allows for a reappraisal of the dispute between those who adopt a traditional reading of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus and those who adopt the new reading recently championed by Cora Diamond, James Conant, and others. By maintaining that what the nonsense in the Tractatus is supposed to convey is ineffable understanding, rather than ineffable truth, we can do considerable justice to each of these readings. We can also do considerable justice to the Tractatus.

This essay is a critical notice of Thomas Nagel’s The Last Word. Though the essay evidences broad sympathy with the spirit of Nagel’s book, its main burden is to query the letter of the book. Nagel’s defence of the view that there are certain beliefs and ways of thinking that are not from any point of view, or that are ‘objective’ in his own terms, is criticized on the grounds that it is too facile. It is also criticized for not being pitted against a critique of beliefs and ways of thinking that are from some point of view, or that are ‘subjective’ in his terms.

The aim of this essay is to characterize the issue whether tense is real. Roughly, this is the issue whether, given any tensed representation, its tense corresponds in some suitably direct way to some feature of reality. The task is to make this less rough. Eight characterizations of the issue are considered and rejected, before one is endorsed. On this characterization, the unreality of tense is equivalent to the unity of temporal reality. The issue whether tense is real, so characterized, is then related to Kant’s deduction of the categories in his Critique of Pure Reason. It is argued that Kant’s deduction does not provide the argument for the unreality of tense that it may appear to. The conclusion drawn at the end of the essay is that the unreality of tense cannot be argued for—not because tense is real, but because, even if it is unreal, its unreality is basic.

Two of Quine's most familiar doctrines are: that there is a distinction between underdetermination and indeterminacy; and that there is no distinction between analytic and synthetic truths. An argument is given that these two doctrines are incompatible. In terms wholly acceptable to Quine and based on the underdetermination/indeterminacy distinction, an exhaustive and exclusive distinction is drawn between two kinds of true sentences, which, it is argued, corresponds to the traditional analytic/synthetic distinction. An appendix is used to develop one aspect of the underdetermination/indeterminacy distinction, as construed here, and to discuss, in passing, some of Quine’s more general views on truth.

Dans quelle mesure la philosophie du langage ordinaire, faite par des anglophones qui réfléchissent sur la langue et son usage correct, est-elle liée à l'anglais ? Ainsi, quand elle traite de la nature de la connaissance, se peut-il qu'il s'agisse de questions induites par le terme knowledge ? Adrian Moore instruit la cohérence d'une réponse négative à partir d'une réflexion sur le « nous » qui parle. Mais il voit dans l'impossibilité de principe pour la philosophie du langage ordinaire de denier toute force à ce lien une bonne raison pour la philosophie analytique aujourd'hui de ne pas s'y laisser réduire

1. If it is true that ‘an ethic is the propositional reflection of the dispositions and attitudes, policies and stances, of people,’ as Simon Blackburn says in summary of the quasi-realism that he champions in this excellent and wonderfully provocative book, then it seems to follow that different dispositions, attitudes, policies and stances—different conative states, for short—will issue in different ethics, each with an equal claim to truth; and this in turn seems to be one thing that could be reasonably meant by that slippery polyseme ‘relativism’. If such relativism does follow, a good deal remains to be said about how much force it has. At the limit it might do no more than signal the abstract possibility of an ethic rivalling that of humans. More potently, it might somehow legitimize the different ethics of different groups of humans in actual conflict with one another. But without the possibility of some such variability of ethic to match a possible variability of conative state, the quasi-realist’s claim that an ethic ‘reflects’ a particular combination of conative states appears hollow.

In this bold and innovative new work, A.W. Moore poses the question of whether it is possible for ethical thinking to be grounded in pure reason. In order to understand and answer this question, he takes a refreshing and challenging look at Kant’s moral and religious philosophy. Identifying three Kantian Themes – morality, freedom and religion – and presenting variations on each of these themes in turn, Moore concedes that there are difficulties with the Kantian view that morality can be governed by ‘pure’ reason. He does however defend a closely related view involving a notion of reason as socially and culturally conditioned. In the course of doing this, Moore considers in detail, ideas at the heart of Kant’s thought, such as the categorical imperative, free will, evil, hope, eternal life and God. He also makes creative use of the ideas in contemporary philosophy, both within the analytic tradition and outside it, such as ‘thick’ ethical concepts, forms of life and ‘becoming those that we are’. Throughout the book, a guiding precept is that to be rational is to make sense, and that nothing is of greater value to use than making sense.

Kant once wrote, “Many historians of philosophy... let the philosophers speak mere nonsense.... They cannot see beyond what the philosophers actually said to what they really meant to say.’ Rae Langton begins her book with this quotation. She concludes it, after a final pithy summary of the position that she attributes to Kant, with the comment, “That, it seems to me, is what Kant said, and meant to say”. In between are some two hundred pages of admirably clear, tightly argued exegesis, supplemented by detailed references, in which she offers what the dust jacket blurb fairly describes as “a new interpretation and defence of Kant’s doctrine of things in themselves.” This is an extremely engaging and thought-provoking book. I am pleased to recommend it.

It is only two years since Immanuel Kant published his monumental Critique of Pure Reason.As part of entering into the spirit of this ‘untimely review’, I shall pretend that only the first edition of the Critique exists. This has a bearing on some claims that I shall make about differences between the content of the Prolegomena and that of the Critique. Despite its formidable difficulty, that book has already generated intense interest in the philosophical community. Those who are still struggling to come to terms with its dense and subtle argumentation, or who may not even have started to read it yet but who know from the furore that it has created that it needs to be high on their ‘to read’ list, might easily despair at the prospect of having now to contend with another volume on the same broad range of subjects by the same author. This prospect is not, however, as daunting as it seems. In fact, it should afford some solace, at least if we are to believe claims that Kant makes on beh

It is argued that, although there are no ineffable truths, the concept of ineffability nevertheless does have application—to certain states of knowledge. Towards the end of the essay this idea is related to religion: it is argued that the language that results from attempting (unsuccessfully) to put ineffable knowledge into words is very often of a religious kind. An example of this is given at the very end of the essay. This example concerns the Euthyphro question: whether what is right is right because God wills it, or whether God wills it because it is right.

There is a temptation associated with the question, which must be exposed before the question can be properly addressed. This is the temptation to think that there are perspectival features of reality that figure in perspectival facts, and that what makes true perspectival representations true is the obtaining of such facts. I argue that this is incoherent, and that the absolute/perspectival distinction applies exclusively to representations, not to what is represented. I also consider why the temptation exists, and how it can be resisted.

There remains the problem of accounting for the appeal of transcendental idealism. Transcendental idealists themselves may say that there is nothing wrong with the doctrine, but only with the attempt to express it, the point being that it is inexpressibly true: but I argue that this does not extricate them from the trap of self‐stultification. An importantly different proposal, which I derive from the earlier work of Wittgenstein, is this: while we cannot coherently state that transcendental idealism is true we are shown that transcendental idealism is true, where ‘A is shown that x’ is defined as ‘ A has ineffable knowledge, and when an attempt is made to put that knowledge into words, the result is: x.’ I try to indicate how, provided we can make sense of and, this proposal has the threefold merit of: avoiding self‐stultification; being compatible with the incoherence of transcendental idealism; and providing an account of transcendental idealism's appeal.

I begin by raising the question whether there can be ‘absolute representations’ and explain what I mean by this. I define a ‘representation’ as anything, which has content and which, because of its content, is either true or false. I define an ‘absolute’ representation as a representation whose content can be combined with that of any other possible representation ‘by simple addition’. This contrasts with the case of a ‘non‐absolute’ or ‘perspectival’ representation, whose content may not be combinable with that of another representation until the element of perspective has been eliminated. Thus if one person says, ‘I am English,’ and another says, ‘I am German,’ it is not possible for either of those people, nor indeed for anyone else, to combine the contents of their representations by saying, ‘I am English and I am German.’

I further argue that we can make sense of. This requires a critique of nonsense, since, for reasons that I give, what replaces ‘x’ in the schema must be nonsense. I endorse an austere view of nonsense whereby there is nothing more to nonsense than sheer lack of sense, as in ‘phlump jing ux’. The point is this: because our ineffable knowledge is a mark of our finitude, and because we have a shared aspiration to transcend our finitude, we also have a shared temptation to put our ineffable knowledge into words, which in turn gives us a shared sense of when a piece of nonsense is ‘apt’ to replace ‘x’ in the schema, where ‘aptness’ is a quasi‐aesthetic attribute. This is enough for instances of the schema to count as true or false—and, arguably, for ‘We are shown that transcendental idealism is true’ to count as true.