Lydia L. Moland

Philip Roth’s novel 'The Human Stain' recounts an instance of racial passing: its protagonist, Coleman Silk, is African-American but light-skinned enough to pass as white. Coleman’s decision to pass and his subsequent violent death, I argue, confront us with complex ethical questions regarding unjust social roles, loyalty, and moral luck. I also argue, building on Hegel’s definition of tragedy, that 'The Human Stain' is a particularly modern tragedy. The novel highlights conflicting role obligations, inadequate conceptions of freedom, and the tensions of cultural paradigm shifts—all characteristics typical of modern tragedy. I claim that parsing 'The Human Stain' as a tragedy deepens our understanding of the novel as well as drawing our attention to its philosophical significance.

Nurses all too often experience situations that threaten their identification with the caring aspect of their profession. This article examines systematic reasons for the loss of integrity they describe as their lived work experience conflicts with their self-conception. I examine Ruth Barcan Marcus' description of moral dilemmas and the role of regret, arguing that the real experience of regret should not be associated with a lack of integrity. I conclude that a more complex understanding of care in nurses' self-understanding is needed in order to describe the kinds of moral dilemmas they frequently face.

Abstract: This article argues that Christine Korsgaard's stimulating claim that practical identity is at the foundation of agency is weakened by her reliance on a Kantian conception of freedom. The commitments that make up our practical identity are, the article suggests, better described through a system like Hegel's that attends to the nature of and connection among different kinds of commitments. Beginning with such an analysis allows us better to describe human agency; it also enables us to reflect the place commitments have in our lives more accurately. Hegel offers a description of ethical life in which commitments are central but still subject to norms that themselves better allow humans to achieve concrete freedom

In his description of patriotism in the Philosophy of Right, Hegel essentially neglects contemporary patriotism's defining characteristic, namely loyalty to or pride in one's country. I argue that the historical context of patriotism explains this neglect. German patriotism during Hegel's lifetime encompassed disparate political trends, including an emphasis on engagement in local community, attention to political ideals, and burgeoning nationalism. Hegel's comments on patriotism incorporate the first two trends; Hegel broadly rejected the later, nationalist trend. I also claim that Hegel's comments on patriotism in his lectures on Rechtsphilosophie enhance our understanding of Hegel's political philosophy generally: in the lectures, the connection between patriotism and good government becomes explicit; the need for local civic engagement becomes clearer; we understand better the place of sentiment in a citizen's attitude towards the state. I also argue that Hegel differentiates between true patriotism, which protects individuality within the state, and inferior forms of patriotism that threaten modern political life as Hegel understands it

According to Thomas Pogge’s theory of human rights, those of us in the developed world have a negative duty to the global poor. In other words, our responsibility to them is not merely to help them but to stop harming them by hoarding natural resources and imposing unfair institutional structures. I argue that Hegel would agree that we have a responsibility to the global poor and that he would also agree with some of Pogge’s institutional diagnosis. Hegel thought that civil society, as a new institution in his time, generated new responsibilities; he would, I argue, have thought the same about a globalized civil society. I discuss recognition as a possible foundation for this obligation and emphasize Hegel’s preference for a representative structure based on economics rather than geography as part of a possible solution.

Hegel’s “Anthropology” considers components of an agent’s practical identity that are not chosen but rather inherited: components such as the agent’s temperament, talents, and ethnic background. Through a discussion of habit and happiness, Hegel explores how these inherited traits can become part of the agent’s self-determination. I argue that this process provides a model for explaining how we are obligated within roles we do not choose—roles for instance within the family or as citizens of a state. Through evaluation of an inherited role itself and assessment of her own place in it, the agent earns and eventually comes to own her actions within the role. In this way an inherited role, like an inherited trait, can contribute to an agent’s freedom.

In his early and unpublished essay on Schiller’s trilogy Wallenstein, Hegel criticizes the plays’ denouement as “horrific” and “appalling” and for depicting the triumph of death over life. Why was the young Hegel’s response to Wallenstein so negative? To answer this question, I first offer an analysis of Wallenstein in terms of Hegel’s mature theory of modern tragedy. I argue that Schiller’s portrayal of Wallenstein’s character and death indeed render the play a particularly dark and unredemptive example of modern tragedy as Hegel understands it. I suggest, however, that Hegel’s early objections are primarily motivated by his philosophy of history rather than by his theory of tragedy. Hegel accurately sensed the loss of faith in historical progress that Schiller experienced in the wake of the French Revolution; in essays written shortly before Wallenstein appeared, Schiller associates the tragic sublime with humans’ ability to act in the face of the meaninglessness of history. In his essay “The German Constitution,” composed during the same period as his Wallenstein review, Hegel instead formulates his familiar exhortation that we see history as meaningful. Hegel’s objection to Wallenstein’s darkness, then, is primarily an objection to the vision of history it portrays. Against the background of Peter Stein’s 2007 Berlin production of Wallenstein, I suggest that Wallenstein’s lasting appeal lies in its ability to allow audiences to experience the sublime as Schiller intended: as an assertion of our agency despite the cycles of history we so little control.