Mark Robert Taylor

The response to student use of generative AI in higher education has been characterized by ambiguity, and no set of policies has yet become the accepted norm. Individual instructors are, so far, able to take wildly divergent approaches. In this article, I address the use of AI to specifically produce text for written assignments, arguing that universities have an obligation to regulate such uses. I argue that, even if using AI for writing is not technically plagiarism, it undermines education in the same way that plagiarism does. For this reason, educators have a moral obligation to treat AI-generated text, in the context of student education, the same way they would treat text written by a person. Given the impact AI text generation is already having on student practice, I argue that universities have a duty to act quickly and decisively to implement preventative measures and common norms restricting the use of AI in written assignments.

Galen Strawson (2004) has championed an influential argument against the view that a life is, or ought to be, understood as a kind of story with temporal extension. The weight of his argument rests on his self-report of his experience of life as lacking the form or temporal extension necessary for narrative. And though this argument has been widely accepted, I argue that it ought to have been rejected. On one hand, the hypothetical non-diachronic life Strawson proposes would likely be psychologically fragmented. On the other, it would certainly be morally diminished, for it would necessarily lack the capacity for integrity.

Dissertation Summary—Mark Taylor My dissertation explores forgiveness and revenge within a narrative conception of human lives. In Chapter One, I lay out an account of human life stories and argue for its advantages in understanding the value of redemption. In particular, I suggest that the goods we care about in our lives depend on their integration into the way we see ourselves as persons who exist through time. Forgiveness and revenge can recontextualize moments from our past and infuse them with a new meaning. Building on Peter Goldie’s work, I identify unity, purpose, direction, and truth as qualities of life stories toward which forgiveness contributes. I examine some of the psychological literature to understand the role our internal narrative plays in making sense of the world (and the lack of sense when that narrative fails). I conclude by defending against a well-known objection from Galen Strawson against narrative analysis. In Chapter Two I take up a qualified defense of the rationality of revenge. My motivation in doing so is a link in the logic between revenge and forgiveness. If revenge is always straightforwardly irrational, forgiveness is undermined. My strategy to defend revenge is to give a taxonomy characterizing it and then pick out its most justifiable form. I argue that revenge at its best is a form of caring about one’s past, or the past of a loved one. I defend this form of revenge against various objections, especially that it is pointless or involves a rational error about one’s own untouchable value as a person. I argue that the point of revenge is to ‘change the ending’ of the offender and victim’s relationship. I also argue that focus on objective value misses the point: what is threatened is not the victim’s objective value as a person, but the value of a life story worth having. In Chapter Three I lay out my own account of forgiveness. I first provide several characteristic features of forgiveness, and then describe two camps in the literature that disagree about whether forgiveness is primarily a private matter of the heart or a public matter of treatment. I then argue for what I call ‘inaugurated forgiveness’ as a synthesis between these emotional and behavioral views. I suggest that forgiveness begins with a commitment toward the offender, but takes time to come to its emotional culmination. The nature of that commitment is a second-order endorsement of the desires of love over the desires of resentment. I also highlight the importance of hope as the operative forward-looking virtue rather than trust. Forgiveness involves committing oneself to openness to eventual redemption and reconciliation, but does not require the unjustified trust that the offender can be redeemed or reconciled at the moment of forgiveness. In Chapter Four I examine the underlying reasons for forgiving and avenging. I argue that personal reasons have a legitimate role to play in these practices, rather than merely impersonal considerations. Impersonal reasons, such as generic respect for personhood, or desert, play a dominant role in the literature where a major concern is to find a justification of forgiveness within a moral justice conception. Personal reasons are tied to the basic cares and commitments of a life, and these projects are what the life is about as a whole. There is thus an important connection between the narrative direction of a life and its ground projects. Forgiving for personal reasons is a way of giving appropriate weight to the particular life one has. I argue that personal reasons give us a way of understanding how forgiveness is elective and generous. I conclude by using this analysis to briefly outline some strategies for arguing for forgiveness over revenge. For example, I suggest that arguments against revenge need to begin from the victim’s ground projects, such as each person’s commitment to seeing the world truly, or the desire for one’s community to flourish; I suggest that forgiveness usually allows better epistemic access, and better protects one’s intimates.

In two places, Nicolas Malebranche makes a strange moral argument that he presents as an advantage of his occasionalist metaphysics. Because God is the only true cause, every choice of sin can only be given causality by God's power. Every sinner, therefore, profanely forces God to serve sin; to avoid such sacrelige, the occasionalist has extra reason to avoid sin. My analysis of Malebranche's reasoning shows how this initially perplexing argument does indeed work and, in fact, provides a useful example of how several distinct pieces of his philosophical theology come together to form a surprisingly cohesive argument.