Caspar Hare

Metaphysicians and cosmologists often make bold, surprising claims about the universe. It is bigger, older, full of more things, more intricately interconnected, than most of us ever thought. Supposing they are correct, does that have any bearing on what we ought to believe about everyday matters, and on what we ought to feel, want, and do in everyday contexts? Many philosophers have been explicitly or implicitly committed to answering ‘no’ to this question. This book argues for ‘yes’. If advocates of chaos theory are correct, then we should rethink how we ought to feel about past evil actions. We ought to feel the positive analogue of regret toward almost everything that has ever been done. If advocates of plenitudinous material ontologies are correct, then we should rethink how we ought to feel about our own suffering versus the suffering of others, and what we ought to believe about where we are and who we are. If advocates of spatial and material infinity are correct, then we should rethink how we ought to treat strangers. Whether and how we ought to help them depends in surprising ways on how much we know about them. In sum, bold claims in metaphysics and cosmology matter.

In this chapter on time‐the emotional asymmetry, the author addresses two questions concerning future‐bias. The first is with respect to the sorts of things are people future‐biased. Do people want all things that they regard as bad to be in the past, or just some of them? Second, are people justified in being future‐biased? The second question has received a good deal of attention from philosophers. The author aims to survey different answers to the question, and to give a sense of how things presently lie. A section presents some poor arguments for future‐bias, including discussions on the shrinking block theory of time. It is also said that, even if four‐dimensionalism is false, a charge of arbitrariness can be leveled at future‐bias. Finally, the chapter presents a discussion on some incoherence arguments against future‐bias.

We start by presenting three different views that jointly imply that every person has many conscious beings in their immediate vicinity, and that the number greatly varies from person to person. We then present and assess an argument to the conclusion that how confident someone should be in these views should sensitively depend on how massive they happen to be. According to the argument, sometimes irreducibly de se observations can be powerful evidence for or against believing in metaphysical theories.

Caspar Hare makes an original and compelling case for "egocentric presentism," a view about the nature of first-person experience, about what happens when we see things from our own particular point of view. A natural thought about our first-person experience is that "all and only the things of which I am aware are present to me." Hare, however, goes one step further and claims, counterintuitively, that the thought should instead be that "all and only the things of which I am aware are present." There is, in other words, something unique about me and the things of which I am aware. On Myself and Other, Less Important Subjects represents a new take on an old view, known as solipsism, which maintains that people's experiences give them grounds for believing that they have a special, distinguished place in the world--for example, believing that only they exist or that other people do not have conscious minds like their own. Few contemporary thinkers have taken solipsism seriously. But Hare maintains that the version of solipsism he argues for is in indeed defensible, and that it is uniquely capable of resolving some seemingly intractable philosophical problems--both in metaphysics and ethics--concerning personal identity over time, as well as the tension between self-interest and the greater good. This formidable and tightly argued defense of a seemingly absurd view is certain to provoke debate.

How much risk can we expose our research subjects to? There is a special challenge answering this question when the evidence on which we base our assessments of risk is fragmentary, conflicting or sparse. Such evidence does not support precise assignments of risk (eg, there is a 24.8% chance that this patient will develop AIDS in the next year if she participates in my study). At best it supports imprecise assignments of risk (eg, there is between a 5% and 35% chance that this patient will develop AIDS in the next year if she participates in my study). Here I discuss three approaches to evaluating risk when probability assignments are imprecise—an optimistic approach, a moderate approach and a pessimistic approach. I offer a practical reason to favour the pessimistic approach.

In this dissertation I spell out, and make a case for, egocentric presentism, a view about what it is for a thing to be me. I argue that there are benefits associated with adopting this view. ;The chief benefit comes in the sphere of ethics. Many of us, when we think about what to do, feel a particular kind of ambivalence. On the one hand we are moved by an impartial concern for the greater good. We feel the force of considerations of the form: 'all things considered, doing...will make things better overall'. On the other hand we are selfish. We feel the force of considerations of the form 'doing...will make things better for me.' And it appears as if these sorts of considerations often conflict. Often by doing what makes things better for me I do not make things better overall, and vice-versa. But egocentric presentism is capable of resolving this conflict. As an egocentric presentist I can think both that considerations of the greater good always count in favor my doing what's good for me, and that considerations of the greater good always count in favor of other people doing what's good for them. ;Another benefit comes in the sphere of metaphysics. As an egocentric presentist I can make sense of some otherwise perplexing puzzles about personal identity over time, by combining a non-reductionist view about who I will be, with Parfitian reductionism about personal identity over time and a lean physicalist ontology

On one view of time past, present and future things exist, but their being past, present or future does not consist in their standing in before‐ and after‐relations to other things. So, for example, the event of the signing of the Magna Carta is past, and its being so does not consist in, or reduce to, its coming before the events of 2010.In this paper I discuss arguments for and against this view and view in its near vicinity, perspectival realism. I suggest that perspectival realism is a better view than tense realism. It shares the principal virtues, but not the principal vices, of tense realism

Here's one piece of practical reasoning: "If I do this then a person will reap some benefits and suffer some costs. On balance, the benefits outweigh the costs. So I ought to do it." Here's another: "If I do this then one person will reap some benefits and another will suffer some costs. On balance, the benefits to the one person outweigh the costs to the other. So I ought to do it." Many influential philosophers say that there is something dubious about the second piece of reasoning. They say that it makes sense to trade-off costs and benefits within lives, but not across lives. In this paper I make a case for the second piece of reasoning. My case turns on the existence of morphing sequences—sequences of possible states of affairs across which people transform smoothly into other people