George Sher

The idea that we should simply live in the moment, and should not concern ourselves about the future or the past, has long been a staple of popular philosophy. In this paper, I first attempt to clarify the doctrine and then examine the case for accepting it. My conclusions are, first, that a number of its implications seem quite unpalatable; second, that the main advantages that living in the moment are said to yield are greatly overstated; and, third, that to live by any version of the doctrine that was not highly watered down would be to sacrifice much of what gives meaning to our lives.

This book addresses two main topics—first, the morality of thought and, second, what’s involved in having a free mind. It connects these topics by arguing that to have a free mind, a person must be willing to follow his thoughts wherever they lead, and that this just isn’t possible if the person thinks that some thoughts are morally off limits. The book therefore defends the unpopular position that it is not morally wrong to have even the nastiest of attitudes, the most biased of beliefs, or the vilest of fantasies. Even when some of what we think is ugly, there is beauty and value in our being able to think it.

This paper is a critical discussion of the recent tendency to moralize various aspects of life that were previously viewed as private and discretionary. The paper takes as its starting point six recently unearthed moral prohibitions, and it examines the prospects for defending each as an extension of some familiar moral requirement. Its conclusion is not only that none of the extended prohibitions are defensible, but also that each impedes morality's function by limiting the ability of those whose lives it governs to pursue their own aims as they see fit.

ABSTRACT The question that this paper seeks to answer is that of whether the resistance to change that characterizes the conservative temperament has any rational basis. More precisely, my question is whether we have good grounds for accepting any version of the principle that if something exists then we need a reason to change it but don’t need a reason to keep it. The paper defends a version of this principle whose scope is restricted to familiar traditions and customs on the one hand, and aging artifactual objects (houses, cars, toasters, and the like) on the other. The argument for that principle is that our current traditions and artifacts stand in various relations to the purposive activities of past agents—a different relation in each case—that give rise to presumptive but easily overridden reasons for their preservation.

At one point or another, most of us have been accused of not trying our hardest, and most of us have leveled similar accusations at others. The disputes that result are often intractable and raise difficult questions about effort, ability, and will. This essay addresses some of these questions by examining six representative cases in which the accusation is leveled. The questions discussed include what trying one's hardest involves, and the conditions under which complaints about lack of effort are true, and how much their truth matters. One conclusion that emerges is that both the relevant form of effort and the impediments to making it can vary greatly, while another is that trying one's hardest is less important than trying as hard as one could reasonably be expected to try.

How do we punish others socially, and should we do so? In her 2018 Descartes Lectures for Tilburg University, Linda Radzik explores the informal methods ordinary people use to enforce moral norms, such as telling people off, boycotting businesses, and publicly shaming wrongdoers on social media. Over three lectures, Radzik develops an account of what social punishment is, why it is sometimes permissible, and when it must be withheld. She argues that the proper aim of social punishment is to put moral pressure on wrongdoers to make amends. Yet the permissibility of applying such pressure turns on the tension between individual desert and social good, as well as the possession of an authority to punish. Responses from Christopher Bennett, George Sher and Glen Pettigrove challenge Radzik's account of social punishment while also offering alternative perspectives on the possible meanings of our responses to wrongdoing. Radzik replies in the closing essay.

This chapter develops a new account of what blame adds to the belief that someone has acted badly. According to the proposed account, the additional element consists of a set of dispositions which are explained by the combination of the belief that the agent has acted badly and a desire that he not have done so. Unlike most desires, this one is oriented to the past rather than the future. Nevertheless, it remains a source of motivation that is capable of accounting for the blame-constituting dispositions.

This chapter exploits the insight that emerged in the previous chapter — that a bad act may be rooted in an agent’s character without manifesting a defect in that character — to explain how an act’s badness can render an agent blameworthy. According to this explanation, the crucial fact is that the act’s bad-making features can be traced to the interplay of the very same desires, beliefs, and dispositions that also make the agent the person he is. By assigning character this reduced but still substantial role, we can preserve what is important about Hume’s account while avoiding his errors.

This chapter examines the Humean thesis that agents can only be blamed for their bad acts insofar as those acts are manifestations of defects in their characters. Several versions of this thesis are distinguished and criticized. The criticisms include both the familiar charge that the Humean can’t explain how someone can deserve blame for an act whose badness is “out of character” and the less familiar charge that on the Humean account, the badness of the act itself drops out as irrelevant. It is argued, however, that although Hume was wrong to say that every blameworthy act reflects a flaw in the agent’s character, it may be right to say that every blameworthy act is rooted in the agent’s character.

This final chapter develops an account of blameworthiness that dovetails with the previous chapter’s account of blame. Because the core constituents of blame consist of a desire and a belief, the norms that determine when blame is called for are the ones that correspond to these elements. On the resulting account, blame is called for when the blamer’s belief that the blamee has acted badly is true, and the blamer’s desire that the blamee not have violated a moral principle to which the blamer is committed is justified by the very considerations that justify his commitment itself. By thus making explicit the link between the justification of blame and the justification of the moral principle that the blamee has flouted, we come to see that a commitment to blame is inseparable from a commitment to morality itself.