Alisha Moore

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.

Having argued for an affirmative answer to my question, I consider arguments for a negative answer to it. With the important exception of those arguments in which the Basic Assumption is rejected, I think I can resist each of these. But in the case of arguments in which the Basic Assumption is rejected, I seem to reach an impasse. There is, however, some prospect of reconciliation. This comes in a species of transcendental idealism whereby all our representations are from a ‘transcendent’ point of view and whereby the Basic Argument, though it has to be rejected at that ‘transcendent’ level, can be retained at a ‘non‐transcendent’ level.

I identify and discuss three principles that underlie these ideas: first, that we are finite; secondly, that we are self‐conscious about our finitude; and thirdly, that we aspire to be infinite. I argue that the third of these explains the value of certain things to us, and that it leads to our being shown that these things are of unconditioned value. Finally, by addressing the question what value our aspiration to be infinite itself has, I make some suggestions about the relationship between our ineffable knowledge and God.

I distinguish my question from various others with which it might be confused, and then argue for an affirmative answer to it. My argument, which I call ‘the Basic Argument’, is an embellishment of an argument due to Williams. Its key premise, which I call ‘the Basic Assumption’, and which I express as the assumption that ‘representations are representations of what is there anyway’, involves a cluster of interrelated ideas about the unity, substantiality, and autonomy of reality. I end the chapter by considering the role of science, and specifically of physics, within what I have just argued.

According to Kant, being purely rational or purely reasonable and being autonomously free are one and the same thing. But how can this be so? How can my innate capacity for pure reason ever motivate me to do anything, whether the right thing or the wrong thing? What I will suggest is that the fundamental connection between reason and freedom, both for Kant and in reality, is precisely our human biological life and spontaneity of the will, a conjunctive intrinsic structural property of our animal bodies, which essentially constitutes human personhood and rational agency. I say ‘suggest’ because, obviously, no proper argument for such a conclusion could ever be worked out in a short essay. I would nevertheless like to motivate my suggestion by way of a commentary on the second part of Adrian Moore's extremely rich and interesting recent book, Noble in Reason, Infinite in Faculty

[A. W. 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. /// [Peter Sullivan] Moore proposes to cut between 'traditional' and 'new' approaches to the Tractatus, suggesting that Wittgenstein's intention is to convey, through the knowing use of nonsense, ineffable understanding. I argue, first, that there is indeed room for a proposal of Moore's general kind. Secondly, though, I question whether Moore's actual proposal is not more in tune with Wittgenstein's later thought than with the attitude of the Tractatus.

This book is concerned with the history of metaphysics since Descartes. Taking as its definition of metaphysics 'the most general attempt to make sense of things', it charts the evolution of this enterprise through various competing conceptions of its possibility, scope, and limits. The book is divided into three parts, dealing respectively with the early modern period, the late modern period in the analytic tradition, and the late modern period in non-analytic traditions. In its unusually wide range, A. W. Moore's study refutes the tired old cliché that there is some unbridgeable gulf between analytic philosophy and philosophy of other kinds. It also advances its own distinctive and compelling conception of what metaphysics is and why it matters. Moore explores how metaphysics can help us to cope with continually changing demands on our humanity by making sense of things in ways that are radically new.

I begin with Kant's notion of a maxim and consider the role which this notion plays in Kant's formulations of the fundamental categorical imperative. This raises the question of what a maxim is, and why there is not the same requirement for resolutions of other kinds to be universalizable. Drawing on Bernard Williams' notion of a thick ethical concept, I proffer an answer to this question which is intended neither in a spirit of simple exegesis nor as a straightforward exercise in moral philosophy but as something that is poised somewhere between the two. My aim is to provide a kind of rational reconstruction of Kant. In the final section of the essay, I argue that this reconstruction, while it manages to salvage something distinctively Kantian, also does justice to the relativism involved in what J. L. Mackie calls 'people's adherence to and participation in different ways of life'

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.