James Mahon

In this essay I argue that Ridley Scott's first feature film, The Duelists, which is an adaptation of a Joseph Conrad novella, contains his deepest meditation on honor in his entire career. The film may be said to answer the following question about honor: is being bound to do something by honor, when it is contrary to one's self-interest, a good thing, or a bad thing? It may be said to give the answer that it may be either good or bad. It is bad that D'Hubert is bound by honor to duel with Feraud; it is good that, in the end, Feraud is bound by honor to cease dueling with D'Hubert. In this way, Kant was correct that "the inclination to honor" may light "upon that which is in fact in the common interest and in conformity with duty," or it may light upon what is contrary to duty.

Survey of different definitions of lying and deceiving, with an emphasis on the contemporary debate between Thomas Carson, Roy Sorensen, Don Fallis, Jennifer Saul, Paul Faulkner, Jennifer Lackey, David Simpson, Andreas Stokke, Jorg Meibauer, Seana Shiffrin, and James Mahon, among others, over whether lies always aim to deceive. Related questions include whether lies must be assertions, whether lies always breach trust, whether it is possible to lie without using spoken or written language, whether lies must always be false, whether lies that are unsuccessful are still lies, and whether deception must aim at creating false beliefs as opposed to preventing people from acquiring true beliefs.

In this review of Thomas Carson's book on lying and deception I take issue with his claim that there is only a moral presumption against harmful lying, as opposed to a presumption against all lying, as well as the claim that not providing information – when there is an expectation that information be provided – all by itself constitutes intentional deception. I also worry about what Carson means when he talks about "warranting&quot a statement to be true, and whether he is correct that it is possible to invite an audience to believe one's statement but not intend them to believe it. Finally, I reject his repeated claim that moral philosophers such as W. D. Ross and Brad Hooker do not believe that deception is prima facie wrong, because they only discuss the wrongfulness of lying, and do not discuss the wrongfulness of deception.

In this essay I argue that Machiavelli does not hold that all deception is permissible in war. While Machiavelli claims that "deceit... in the conduct of war is laudable and honorable," he insists that such deceit, or ruses of war, is not to be confounded with perfidy. Any Lee's U.S. Civil War film, "Ride With the Devil," illustrates this difference. The film also illustrates the difference between lying as part of romance, which is permitted, and lying at the moment of truth in a relationship, when admitting one's feelings, which is not.

In this article I reject the argument of Colin McGinn ("Must I Be Morally Perfect?", 1992) that ordinary morality requires that each of us be morally perfect. McGinn's definition of moral perfection –– according to which I am morally perfect if I never do anything that is supererogatory, but always do what is obligatory, and always avoid doing what is impermissible –– should be rejected, because it is open to the objection that I am morally perfect if I always do what is optional but bad to do (what is suberogatory), in addition to always doing what is obligatory and always avoiding what is impermissible. Moral perfection may be defined as always doing what is obligatory, and always doing what is optional but good to do (supererogatory), and never doing what is impermissible, and never doing what is optional but bad to do [suberogatory]. Since ordinary morality does not require this, ordinary morality does not require moral perfection.

Like several prominent moral philosophers before him, such as St Augustine and St Thomas Aquinas, Kant held that it is never morally permissible to tell a lie. Although a great deal has been written on why and how he argued for this conclusion, comparatively little has been written on what, precisely, Kant considered a lie to be, and on how he differentiated between being truthful and being candid, between telling a lie and being reticent, and between telling a lie and other forms of linguistic deception. That is to say, very little has been written on the scope of Kant's prohibition against lying. In this article I will argue that the scope of the prohibition against lying is narrower than it is commonly supposed to be

This article argues for a distinction between reticence and lying, on the basis of what Kant says about reticence in his correspondence with Maria von Herbert, as well as in his other ethical writings, and defends this distinction against the objections of Rae Langton ("Duty and Desolation", 1992). I argue that lying is necessarily deceptive, whereas reticence is not necessarily deceptive. Allowing another person to remain ignorant of some matter is a form of reticence that is not deceptive. This form of reticence may be ethically permissible.

In this paper I argue that, contrary to both H. L. A Hart and Patrick Devlin, and in sympathy with D. G. Brown, it is possible to read Mill as arguing in On Liberty that morality should be enforced, by public moral disapprobation by society, and by fines, imprisonment, execution, etc., by the state, when it will promote the general welfare. The difference between Mill and his predecessors is that they had no standard for morality other than the subjective standard of what society liked and disliked, whereas Mill has an objective standard: it is immoral to harm others (without their consent). Harm to oneself can never be immoral: "A person who shows rashness, obstinacy, self-conceit—who cannot live within moderate means—who cannot restrain himself from hurtful indulgences—who pursues animal pleasures at the expense of those of feeling and intellect… [these] self-regarding faults previously mentioned, which are not properly immoralities, and to whatever pitch they may be carried, do not constitute wickedness." Harm to others (without their consent) is immoral and is prima facie publicly criticizable and criminalizable: "When, by conduct of this sort, a person is led to violate a distinct and assignable obligation to any other person or persons, the case is taken out of the self-regarding class and becomes amenable to moral disapprobation in the proper sense of the term."

In this review of Brooke Harrington's edited collection of essays on deception, written by people from different disciplines and giving us a good "status report" on what various disciplines have to say about deception and lying, I reject social psychologist Mark Frank's taxonomy of passive deception, active consensual deception, and active non-consensual deception (active consensual deception is not deception), as well as his definition of deception as "anything that misleads another for some gain" ("for gain" is a reason for engaging in deception, not part of its definition). I also take issue with management professor Guido Mollering's claim that all deception involves a violation of trust.

In this article I consider six definitions of deceiving (that is, other-deceiving, as opposed to self-deceiving) from Lily-Marlene Russow, Sissela Bok, OED/Webster's dictionary, Leonard Linsky, Roderick Chisholm and Thomas Feehan, and Gary Fuller, and reject them all, in favor of a modified version of a rejected definition (Fuller). I also defend this definition from a possible objection from Annette Barnes. According to this new definition, deceiving is necessarily intentional, requires that the deceived person acquires or continues to have a false belief, and must involve the agency of the deceived person; furthermore, the deceiver must know or truly believe that the false belief that the deceived person acquires or continues to have is false.

This article first examines a number of different definitions of lying, from Aldert Vrij, Warren Shibles, Sissela Bok, the Oxford English Dictionary, Linda Coleman and Paul Kay, and Joseph Kupfer. It considers objections to all of them, and then defends Kupfer’s definition, as well as a modified version of his definition, as the best of those so far considered. Next, it examines five other definitions of lying, from Harry G. Frankfurt, Roderick M. Chisholm and Thomas D. Feehan, David Simpson, Thomas Carson, and Don Fallis. It finds reason to reject these definitions, in favor of the two definitions of lying previously defended, namely:(i) To lie (to another person) = df. to make a believed-false statement (to another person) with the intention that that statement be believed to be true (by the other person).(ii) To lie (to another person) = df. to make a believed-false statement (to another person), either with the intention that that statement be believed to be true (by the other person), or with the intention that it be believed (by the other person) that that statement is believed to be true (by the person making the statement), or with both intentions.

In this article I argue that it is possible to find, in the Groundwork, a perfect ethical duty to others not to lie to any other person, ever. This duty is not in the Doctrine of Virtue, or the Right to Lie essay. It is an exceptionless, negative duty. The argument given for this negative duty from the Universal Law formula of the Categorical Imperative is that the liar necessarily applies a double standard: do not lie (everyone else), and lie (the liar). The basis for this double standard is a presumption of inequality: the liar treats others as less than her. However, this argument fails to exclude lies told to liars, since the liar applies a single standard in this case: (secretly) lie to those whom you believe are lying to you. The argument given for this negative duty from the Humanity formula of the Categorical Imperative is that the liar necessarily behaves in way towards the other person in a way to which she "cannot possibly" consent. However, this argument fails to exclude lies told to those who have consented to be lied to, without knowing which lies they are to be told. Kant's arguments, therefore, fail to generate a perfect exceptionalness negative duty not to lie to any person, ever.

In this chapter I argue that there are three different senses of 'lie' in Kant's moral philosophy: the lie in the ethical sense (the broadest sense, which includes lies to oneself), the lie in the 'juristic' sense (the narrowest sense, which only includes lies that specifically harm particular others), and the lie in the sense of right (or justice), which is narrower than the ethical sense, but broader than the juristic sense, since it includes all lies told to others, including those who are bent on harming innocent others.