Rashad Rehman

It is a relatively uncontroversial proposition that without “ethics,” an “ethics of homelessness” is impossible. What is less uncontroversial, though, is that philosophy—or at least philosophical analysis—is a necessary condition of ethical discourse. The distrust—or skepticism regarding the utility of— philosophical analysis is predicated on rendering philosophy as useless. This, though, should create a sense of cognitive dissonance, since we universally acknowledge that ethics informs how we interact with ourselves and others, while we also accept, and rightly so, the uselessness of philosophy. While pop- ular parlance has it that uselessness is logically and semantically equivalent to not needed or conceptually irrelevant, this, I will argue, is mistaken. This mis- take, as I see it, is a result of the failure to recognize that liberal arts are intrinsi- cally useless—and ought to be treated as such. To mend this mistake, I will outline the liberal arts in contrast to the servile arts and explain how Aristotle, and his later defender Josef Pieper, correctly understood the distinction. I will then move onto suggest that while philosophy—as a liberal art—is useless, and rightfully so, it is a conceptually relevant, necessary condition for dealing with conceptual problems which arise in ethics—and therefore in the ethics of homelessness. To explicate and defend this thesis, I argue that Plato’s three- fold division of goods, originating in Book ii of his Republic, helps to amalgamate our reservations in accepting philosophy as useless—strictly speaking—and simultaneously useful. From this, I move on to provide various ways in which philosophy is relevant to questions of home and homelessness generally, and display how philosophers themselves have, historically, taken seriously the question of home and homelessness as serious philosophical concepts. Finally, I outline how philosophers can work on the ethics of home- lessness by taking seriously the necessary presuppositions which make work- ing on the alleviation of homelessness not merely possible, but morally obligatory. Having sketched a broad picture of how philosophy interacts with the practical problems of homelessness, I conclude that progress in the field of the ethics of homelessness—as a conceptual endeavor—will ultimately arise from overcoming our prima facie interpretation of the liberal/servile arts distinction and thereby preserve its original meaning.

Mike Shur’s Netflix-aired The Good Place has been a focus of philosophical attention by both popular-culture (written by pop-philosophers) and professional philosophers. This attention is merited. The Good Place is a philosophically rich TV show. The Good Place is based in three places: The Good Place, The Medium Place and The Bad Place. Every human being ends up in one of these places after they die based on their good points (points received for doing good actions e.g., chewing with your mouth closed) and bad points (points received for doing bad actions e.g., virtue-signaling). Spoiler alert: by Season 4 of The Good Place (the fourth and final season), the main characters of the show – Eleanor, Chidi, Jason and Tahani – eventually reach the real Good Place (not the fake “Good Place” they had been tortured in by the human-formed, architect demon Michael in Season 1). However, when they reach the real Good Place after much struggle with ethical dilemmas, recognition of their moral flaws and moral development, they find themselves wanting to leave: they were unsatisfied with what The Good Place had to offer and wanted to be freed from it. This paper is concerned with the following questions: What accounts for their desire to be freed from The Good Place? What kind of freedom were they trying to achieve, and how did The Good Place represent it? Reflecting on these (and similar) questions, I argue that St. Thomas (who made it into The Good Place!) gives an ingenious and plausible answer: it was not merely that The Good Place was characterized by pure hedonism (a core deficit of The Good Place, identified by its creators), but more specifically that they had a positive desire for a freedom from temporal goods/experiences which do not satisfy the longings of the human heart and a freedom for the enjoyment of perfect freedom. While The Good Place ends in much perplexity, I argue that the freedom they desired was a rudimentary articulation of the freedom that St. Thomas identifies in heaven.

The single most influential and widely accepted objection against any form of dualism, the belief that human beings are both body and soul, is the objection that dualism violates conservation laws in physics. The conservation laws objection against dualism posits that body and soul interaction is at best mysterious, and at worst impossible. While this objection has been both influential from the time of its initial formulation until present, this paper occupies itself with arguing that this objection is a fleeting one, and has successful answers from both scientific and philosophical perspectives. It is to this end that I provide three groups of responses to the conservation laws objection. First, I outline responses which take the ‘laws of nature’ as the proper entry point into the discussion. Secondly, I provide an analysis of those who argue that contemporary quantum physical data requires that the objection itself involves scientifically unjustified premises. Finally, I layout a philosophically oriented answer which argues that the objection is linguistically problematic since its demands on the dualist are categorically fallacious. From these groups of answers, I conclude that while the conservation laws objection has been arguably the most widely accepted objection against dualism, the objection is without philosophical justification.