Graham Oppy

Wittgenstein published next to nothing on the philosophy of religion and yet his conception of religious belief has been immensely influential. While the concluding, ‘mystical’ remarks in his early work, the Tractatus, are notorious, we find only a single allusion to theology in his magnum opus, the Philosophical Investigations, posthumously published in 1953. Wittgenstein’s mature views on the nature of religious belief must therefore be pieced together from scattered remarks made in his notebooks from the 1930s, the Lectures and Conversations on Religious Belief (compiled from lecture notes), the Remarks on Frazer’s Golden Bough and from what has come to be known as Culture and Value. All of the above, as well as recorded conversations with friends, testify to Wittgenstein’s life-long involvement with religious issues, so it is not readily explicable why Wittgenstein remained silent about them in his most important work. But then Wittgenstein once said to his friend, Maurice Drury, ‘It is impossible for me to say in my book one word about all that music has meant in my life. How then can I hope to be understood?’ This remark might equally well apply to religion. Wittgenstein’s reflections about religious belief are inspired by a number of thinkers, such as, for example, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and William James, as well as most notably, perhaps, the Danish philosopher, Søren Kierkegaard. With the latter he shares the view that Christianity is not a theory about the behaviour of supernatural entities, but an existence-communication, whose demands are primarily ethical, not intellectual. The believer, on this conception, is supposed to transform himself, not his ontological commitments; he is called to exist in the truth as lived out by Christ, the paradigm or pattern, not to engage in speculation about the metaphysical compatibility of the ‘two natures’ of Christ, say. Wittgenstein once wrote: ‘If Christianity is the truth then all the philosophy that is written about it is false.’ If this is indeed apt, it would seem to confine pretty much everything that goes on in philosophy of religion and theology departments to the scrapheap. Small wonder, therefore, that Wittgenstein’s views about the nature of religious belief continue to engender the fiercest opposition, both in those who are sympathetic to religion and in those who are not. In this chapter I will concentrate solely on Wittgenstein’s later conception of religious belief and shall leave his Tractatus views to one side.

Philosophy in Australia and New Zealand has been experiencing something of a 'golden age'. Within this, the richness of Australasia's philosophical past, though less well known, should not be forgotten: Australasian philosophy includes much distinctive and highly original work. The Companion contains a wide range of articles by prominent philosophers and scholars, as well as important contributions by those outside academia. As well as longer essays on selected philosophers, philosophical topics and controversies, there are shorter entries on associations, research centres, departments, journals, pedagogy and international links. Philosophy's recent inroads into the wider community are also highlighted.

Feser (2017) presents and defends five proofs of the existence of God. Each proof is in two stages: the first stage proves the existence of something which, in the second stage, is shown to possess an appropriate range of divine attributes. Each proof is given two presentations, one informal and one formal. In this paper, I critically examine two premises from one of Feser's five first stage proofs. I provide reasons for thinking that naturalists reject both of these premises. In my view, this enough to show that the proof fails: it fails to advance considerations that decide between theism and important competing positions.

This paper is a history of philosophy in Australia in the first decade of the twenty-first century. It considers, among other things: (1) the state of the higher education sector; (2) the state of the humanities; (3) the state of philosophy in the academy; (4) support for philosophy in the academy; (5) the role of philosophy beyond the academy; (6) changes in philosophical practice in this decade,; (7) changes in the teaching of philosophy in this decade; and (8) the domains of inquiry in which philosophers worked in this decade.

In this paper, I examine Kant’s discussion of ‘the cosmological argument’ in The Critique of Pure Reason, Transcendental Doctrine of Elements, Second Part, Second Division, Book 2, Chapter Three, Section Five (‘The Impossibility of a Cosmological Proof of the Existence of God’). While there are other places where Kant provides related discussions of ‘the cosmological argument’—e.g. in The Only Possible Argument in Support of a Demonstration of the Existence of God, Lectures on Philosophical Theology, and Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone—I do not attempt to consider any of these further works in this paper. First, I argue that it is not true that cosmological arguments depend upon ontological arguments, and that Kant is simply mistaken when he argues that ‘the cosmological argument’ ‘assumes’ ‘the ontological argument’. Second, I argue that Kant does not provide a compelling critique of cosmological arguments to the conclusion that there is an absolutely necessary being.

This article critically examines the structure and implications of the argument in ST 1, Q2, A3, associated with Aquinas’ First Way. Our central endeavor is to discern whether a certain disambiguation of point 6 (“There is something that is not moving/changing that moves/changes other things”) can be logically inferred from points 1-5. Through a three-part proof, the article establishes that under specific conditions, it can indeed be inferred. However, this interpretation notably diverges from Aquinas’ intended conclusion and subsequent stronger interpretations of the claim. The paper also engages in discussions surrounding the soundness of the argument, assessing the plausibility of its premises in light of physics and logical analysis. The contribution does not seek to speculate on Aquinas’ understanding or to dismiss his perspective but rather to delineate what follows from his First Way premises, highlighting discrepancies with contemporary views on the nature of existence, particularly the notion of God.

There is an important distinction between two different kinds of expressions of gratitude: propositional expressions of gratitude and prepositional expressions of gratitude. I argue that there is a corresponding distinction between two different kinds of expression of resentment: propositional expressions of resentment and prepositional expressions of resentment. I then argue that theists should suppose neither that propositional expressions of gratitude are prepositional expressions of gratitude to God, nor that propositional expressions of resentment are prepositional expressions of resentment of God.

This book is a unique contribution to the philosophy of religion. It offers a comprehensive discussion of one of the most famous arguments for the existence of God: the ontological argument. The author provides and analyses a critical taxonomy of those versions of the argument that have been advanced in recent philosophical literature, as well as of those historically important versions found in the work of St Anselm, Descartes, Leibniz, Hegel and others. A central thesis of the book is that ontological arguments have no value in the debate between theists and atheists. There is a detailed review of the literature on the topic (separated from the main body of the text) and a very substantial bibliography, making this volume an indispensable resource for philosophers of religion and others interested in religious studies.

What should we be animists about? This chapter aims to answer that question. I begin by distinguishing between ontological and ideological formulations of animism. I suggest that plausible forms of animism will be merely ideological, and I distinguish between full-strength and less-than-full-strength animism. Next, I consider the extent to which idealism, pantheism and panpsychism might be taken to support some sort of universal animism. I conclude that there is no plausible form of full-strength universal animism. After noting that animals are the easy case for animism, I turn to a discussion of a range of hard cases: flora, geological features, astronomical bodies, word tokens, artefacts and institutions. I will argue that we should not be full-strength animists about any of these things. Finally, I will consider whether the discussion that I have given is insensitive to the kinds of reasons that people have had for holding animistic beliefs about things other than animals. In this last part of the discussion, I draw a clear distinction between veneration of flora, artefacts, etc., and the belief that flora, artefacts, etc., are full-strength animated.

Naturalists have many and diverse reasons for thinking that morality does not depend upon God. In this paper, I do not aim to give an exhaustive inventory of these reasons. Rather, I aim to give reason that emerge from the kind of naturalism that I accept. After explaining what I mean by "God", "morality" and "dependence", I note that, on the kind of naturalism that I accept, it is impossible that God exists. Unsurprisingly, therefore, I hold that it is impossible that morality depends on God. While--as I go on to discuss--there are reasons to think that morality could not be dependent on anything else, I also canvass reasons for thinking that even theists should worry about the suggestion that morality might be dependent on God. This chapter was published in a 'debate' book. My 'debate' partner was Matthew Flannagan. The book also contains my response to Flannagan's chapter on this topic. I have not included that response here.

This chapter is an invited contribution to a book on the naturalness of theistic belief. I start by considering ordinary usage of the term 'natural'. I then clarify how I shall use the terms 'naturalism', 'theism', 'worldview' and 'big picture'. I consider the demographic spread of commitment to theistic big pictures and naturalistic big pictures. I consider the distribution of happiness over those committed to theistic big pictures and naturalistic big pictures. I consider the distribution of reasons over those committed to theistic big pictures and naturalistic big pictures. I consider whether intuitive considerations favour one kind of big picture over the other. As it often the case, I draw somewhat irenic conclusions from these considerations.

According to the common conception of argument, the virtues of arguments turn, in part, on the virtues of assertion of their premises. I suggest that, on plausible Gricean assumptions about cooperative conversation, the common conception yields the claim that it is never appropriate to advance arguments in cooperative conversations. But that claim is absurd! Holding on to the Gricean assumptions, I reject the common conception of argument in favour of an alternative conception, on which all that matters, as far as premises go, for the virtue of arguments, is whether those premises belong to the arguments’ targets: interlocutors’ beliefs, theories, etc.