David K. Chan

Despite criticism that dignity is a vague and slippery concept, a number of international guidelines on bioethics have cautioned against research that is contrary to human dignity, with reference specifically to genetic technology. What is the connection between genetic research and human dignity? In this article, I investigate the concept of human dignity in its various historical forms, and examine its status as a moral concept. Unlike Kant's ideal concept of human dignity, the empirical or relational concept takes human dignity as something that is affected by one's circumstances and what others do. I argue that the dignity objection to some forms of genetic research rests on a view of human nature that gives humans a special status in nature – one that is threatened by the potential of genetic research to reduce individuals to their genetic endowment. I distinguish two main philosophical accounts of human nature. One of these, the Aristotelian view, is compatible with the use of genetic technology to help humans realize their inherent potential to a fuller extent.

I compare the distribution of jobs and research opportunities in academic philosophy with how American society distributes economic rewards. In both cases, there is gross inequality and lack of upward mobility. Luck always plays a role in hiring decisions and the acceptance of papers by journals, but the entrenchment of luck has led to elitism which is unhealthy for the profession of philosophy, just as it is for the capitalist economy. I suggest some revolutionary steps to bridge the gap between the two tiers of philosophers.

Are today’s wars different from earlier wars? Or do we need a different ethics for old and new wars alike? Unlike most books on the morality of war, this book rejects the ‘just war’ tradition, proposing a virtue ethics of war to take its place. Like torture, war cannot be justified. This book asks and answers the question: “If war is a very great evil, would a leader with courage, justice, compassion, and all the other moral virtues ever choose to fight a war?” A ‘philosophy of co-existence’ is proposed which is much more restrictive than just war theory but not pacifist. War can be correctly chosen by a virtuous leader only in rare ‘supreme emergencies’ when faced with enemies as evil as Hitler. This virtue ethics approach to war is used to find new answers to difficult issues such as humanitarian intervention, terrorism and weapons of mass destruction.

Ralph Ellis has written about how we have a fundamental need for ‘inspiration’ that can help us come to terms with human finitude. Arguing against the self-deceptive path of religious fundamentalism, Ellis discusses how the experience of a transcendent object of intrinsic value through love enables us to break out of a ‘circle of egocentricity.’ In this paper, I explore the problem of finitude in the movie Stranger Than Fiction, faced by someone who has to make choices knowing that he is merely a character in someone else’s novel. I show how philosophy is also needed, alongside a loving relationship, for moral choice and motivation. I then suggest that Aristotle’s ethics is an example of how both philosophical knowledge and experience of life can be combined in dealing with our lack of moral certainty.

What do philosophers have to say about war beyond appeal to the just war doctrine? I suggest that they should concern themselves with the harmful consequences of war for the people who experience it. The ancient Greek tragedian Euripides was a moral philosopher of his time who wrote the plays Hecuba and The Trojan Women from the perspective of the losers in the Trojan War. There are striking parallels to the U.S. war in Iraq that began in 2003. Lessons that can be learned from Euripides include how good people learn to hate, how aggression has its own logic of necessary brutality, how each side is unable to recognize how much they are like their enemies, how the desire to end a war quickly disregards the cost to civilians, and how irrational the fear of the enemy can be.

In "After Anscombe," I argue that, although Bratman's account of intention "has provided a conceptual tool for many directions of research in philosophy and cognitive psychology," it cannot do the work in ethics that moral philosophers, especially Kantians, use it for. This can be shown by considering the problems in using intention to make a moral distinction in cases of double effect. If so, Bratman's is not the same concept of intention that Anscombe had in mind when she wrote her book. I show that Ancombe's account of intention is a much broader concept, with deeper historical roots. This does not mean that Bratman's concept of intention should be abandoned. Rather, we need to make a distinction between desire and intention that is implicit in Anscombe's account. That is, the aspects of intention that make her concept suited for ethics do not belong to Bratman's narrower concept and should be attributed to a concept that can be distinguished from intention. Evidence for what the latter concept is can be found in Aquinas' account of intentio from which the concept of intention has borrowed its name. Intentio for Aquinas is an act of will in regard to the end, whereas Bratman's intention is of the means that are chosen in practical reasoning. Intentio seems to be an intrinsic desire for the end. If this is right, then it is desire that is relevant for ethics, and not intention in its modern use. Recognition that desire and not intention is the relevant concept for ethics, in both Anscombe's and Aquinas' accounts of human agency, dovetails perfectly with their ethical theories, for it is Aristotle's ethics that has guided both philosophers in their ethical writings. After all, Aristotelian virtue ethicists are concerned with moral evaluation of the agent's character, which consists in a set of dispositions to seek ends that are desired for their own sake.