Stefanie Rocknak

Hume’s understanding of the external world, particularly, his conception of objects, or what he occasionally refers to as “bodies,” is the subject of much dispute. Are objects mind-independent? Or, are they just what we see, feel, smell, taste, or touch? In other words, are objects just sense data? Or, are they ideas about sense data? Or, are objects, somehow, mind-independent, but we have ideas of them, and we receive sense data from them? In this paper, I provide some answers to these questions—by way of distinguishing between the vulgar position, the philosophical position, and Hume’s position.

In this paper, we see that contrary to most readings of T 1.4.2 in the Treatise ("Of Skepticism with Regard to the Senses"), Hume does not think that objects are sense impressions. This means that Hume's position on objects (whatever that may be) is not to be conflated with the vulgar perspective. Moreover, the vulgar perspective undergoes a marked transition in T 1.4.2, evolving from what we may call vulgar perspective I into vulgar perspective II. This paper presents the first detailed analysis of this evolution, which includes an explanation of T 1.4.2's four-part system.

This article shows that in 1.4.2.15-24 of the Treatise of Human Nature, Hume presents his own position on objects, which is to be distinguished from both the vulgar and philosophical conception of objects. Here, Hume argues that objects that are effectively imagined to have a “perfect identity” are imagined due to the constancy and coherence of our perceptions (what we may call ‘level 1 constancy and coherence’). In particular, we imagine that objects cause such perceptions, via what I call ‘indirect causation.’ In virtue of imagining ideas of objects that have a perfect identity, our perceptions seem to be even more constant and coherent (what we may call ‘level 2 constancy and coherence’). Thus, in addition to seeing that Hume is presenting his own position on objects in this section of the Treatise, we see that he is working with a previously unrecognized kind of causation, i.e., indirect causation, and that he has two kinds of constancy and coherence in mind: level 1 and level 2.

This book provides the first comprehensive account of Hume’s conception of objects in Book I of the Treatise. What, according to Hume, are objects? Ideas? Impressions? Mind-independent objects? All three? None of the above? Through a close textual analysis, I show that Hume thought that objects are imagined ideas. However, I argue that he struggled with two accounts of how and when we imagine such ideas. On the one hand, Hume believed that we always and universally imagine that objects are the causes of our perceptions. On the other hand, he thought that we only imagine such causes when we reach a “philosophical” level of thought. This tension manifests itself in Hume’s account of personal identity; a tension that, I argue, Hume acknowledges in the Appendix to the Treatise. As a result of presenting a detailed account of Hume’s conception of objects, we are forced to accommodate new interpretations of, at least, Hume’s notions of belief, personal identity, justification and causality.

In Book I, III §9 of the Treatise, Hume makes the claim that “[all general] belief arises only from causation” (T 107). Following, he makes the even stronger claim that all general beliefs are to be thought of as beliefs in reality, and thus, all belief in reality is dependent on pre-established beliefs in both specific causal relations and the causal relation in general (T 108). In the first part of this paper, I explain Hume’s motivation behind both claims, while in the second part, I argue that to some extent, Hume is correct; our belief in “reality”—a notion to be defined—is fundamentally dependent on a pre-established belief in the general notion of cause and effect and a cache of specific causal relations. Thus, epistemologically speaking, we must conclude that our notion of “reality” is intrinsically causal (note that this reading has been corrected/augmented in Rocknak 2013).

I argue that Quine’s rejection of Carnap’s “radical” (FLPV; TDE 39) and “phenomenalistic” (FSS 15-16) reductionism—as it is manifest in the Aufbau—may be understood in terms of a broader historical context. In particular, it may be understood as a rejection of a contemporary variant of the second horn of Meno’s Paradox. As a result, Quine’s motivation to adopt naturalism may be understood independently of his pragmatic concerns. According to Quine, it was simply unreasonable (i.e. paradoxical) to adopt a Carnapian phenomenalistic/mentalistic (non-naturalistic) approach to epistemology. Armed with what could only be his invigorated faith in the naturalistic method, he was then, as I see it, equipped to break what we may characterize as the physicalistic version of the naturalistic circle. This is a repudiation that, I show, entails his rejection of “attenuated” (FLPV; TDE 41) reductionism and concomitantly, his rejection of “analyticity,” if not “certainty” altogether. As a result, Quine could simultaneously dismiss what we may characterize as the Humean version of the naturalistic circle. Meanwhile, the practicality of an admittedly fallible science could be unashamedly embraced, although not just for the sake of its practicality—as Quine himself seems to misleadingly indicate throughout his work—but instead, as just noted, to avoid the seemingly Platonic paradox of Aufbauian reductionism.

In this book, Schmitt claims that Hume, however implicitly, employs a fully-developed epistemology in the Treatise. In particular, Hume employs a “veritistic” epistemology, i.e. one that is grounded in truth, particularly, true beliefs. In some cases, these true beliefs are “certain,” are “infallible” (78) and are justified, as in the case of knowledge, i.e. demonstrations. In other cases, we acquire these beliefs through a reliable method, i.e. when they are produced by causal proofs. Such beliefs are also “certain” (69, 81) and are (defeasibly) justified. Thus, although demonstrative knowledge and beliefs produced by causal proofs are produced by different psychological processes, and so, admit of specific kinds of “certainty,” they are nevertheless, both certain, and so, they share the same “epistemic status” (68-69). As a result, although it is clear that Hume makes a psychological distinction between demonstrations and causally produced beliefs (proofs) it may be argued that Hume does not make an epistemological distinction between knowledge (demonstrations) and causally produced beliefs (proofs). Thus, in regard to epistemic status, the latter are not necessarily inferior to the former. This has larger implications for Hume’s method; if we can say that he employs a method that invokes knowledge, or at least, beliefs that share the same epistemic status as knowledge, then Hume need not be entirely skeptical about the results of his method. Rather, the possession of true belief is Hume's ultimate goal. (380)

Where does the necessity that seems to accompany causal inferences come from? “Why [do] we conclude that … particular causes must necessarily have such particular effects?” In 1.3.6 of the Treatise, Hume entertains the possibility that this necessity is a function of reason. However, he eventually dismisses this possibility, where this dismissal consists of Hume’s “negative” argument concerning induction. This argument has received, and continues to receive, a tremendous amount of attention. How could causal inferences be justified if they are not justified by reason? If we believe that p causes q, isn’t it reason that allows us to conclude q when we see p with some assurance, i.e. with some necessity?

In 1986, David Esterly won a competition to carve a replacement of a Grinling Gibbons “wall drop” for Hampten Court Palace, in East Molesey, England. His task was an onerous one: Gibbons invented a style of carving that has been matched by few, and surpassed by still fewer. Esterly is one of the latter few; his technique is superb. The Lost Carving gives us an account of those fateful days at Hampton Court. Interwoven with memories of recreating the Gibbon’s piece, Esterly explains how he got involved with the esoteric field of limewood carving. Although he successfully completed his Ph.D. in English literature, he chose to avoid academia. Gibbons got to him instead, thanks to a chance encounter with one of his carvings in the 1970’s. Ever since, Esterly has struggled to understand, if not reach beyond, Gibbon’s vision and talent.

Is there a distinction between “art” and “craft,” where the former is motivated by something like “genuine” or “authentic” creativity and the latter by, at best, skill and skill alone, and at a worst, a fumbling attempt to fit in with popular modes of expression? In this paper, I suggest that there does seem to be such a distinction. In particular, I attempt to show that genuine creativity, and so, genuine art—in varying respects—is motivated by a certain recognition of what we might understand as the most universal, and perhaps the most important property of all human beings: the brutal fact that our lives are limited; in the end, we all die. To show why I think this is the case, I have divided my paper into three parts. In the first, I briefly explain why we might view mortality as our most pressing issue and concomitantly, why we might understand it to be the driving force behind not only our desire to procreate, but also, to create. In the second part of the paper, I do something that is not strictly “philosophical”—I canvas a number of remarks by poets and writers who, like myself, are convinced that death is our primary muse, but not necessarily in a morbid, or despairing respect—in fact, we see that this is quite the opposite in some cases (c.f. Nabokov, 1966). Why do I do this? Because it seems obvious to me that we should ask the actual artists about what motivates them, rather than putting words into their mouths. In the third and final part of the paper, I offer a brief philosophical explanation of why and how—in light of sections one and two—we might begin to distinguish between genuine art and craft.

Most artists who are familiar with the contemporary art scene—especially the New York City scene—know that “beauty” is not especially hip. Unless, that is, it serves a “deeper” purpose, e.g., it helps to make a conceptual or political point. Danto’s influence, it would seem, pervades and persists (31). But, as Brand points out in her introduction, in the past twenty years or so, the philosophical study of beauty has been making a comeback; she lists over fifty titles that have been written on the subject since the nineties. Brand’s book, Beauty Unlimited, promises to add to the feminist oeuvre on the subject. The book is comprised of twenty essays, with a foreword by Carolyn Korsmeyer and an introduction by Brand. Although the majority of the essays are interdisciplinary, they are primarily written by trained philosophers. Other essays are written by practicing artists and writers, historians, and cultural anthropologists.

Hume and Quine argue that human beings do not have access to general knowledge, that is, to general truths . The arguments of these two philosophers are premised on what Jaakko Hintikka has called the atomistic postulate. In the present work, it is shown that Hume and Quine in fact sanction an extreme version of this postulate, according to which even items of particular knowledge are not directly accessible in so far as they are relational. For according to their fully realized systems, human beings do not initially perceive any relations, or similar epistemological elements that can associate or combine terms on which a relational or general knowledge claim may be based. Nor, likewise, do human beings perceive the relations or the associations themselves as separate entities. ;In Chapters 1 and 2, respectively, it is shown precisely why Hume and Quine deny that human beings initially perceive either such associative elements or associations in general. Concomitantly, it is made clear why Hume's and Quine's respective epistemologies preclude human beings from initially apprehending not only general knowledge, but particular relational knowledge as well. But this is not to say that Hume and Quine do not think we can eventually acquire such associative elements and correspondingly, knowledge. Rather, Hume and Quine do provide an account of knowledge, but one that holds all relational and connective elements to be constructed by the human mind. In Hume's case, they are constructed by the imagination. In Quine's case, we are never told quite how this construction occurs, although the evidence suggests that Quine implicitly relies on a faculty similar to Hume's imagination. ;In the final chapter of this thesis, it is argued that both Hume and Quine must be read as philosophers who justify knowledge by reducing its possibility to a psychological faculty of construction, as well as to a few concepts of intuitively grasped relations. By way of conclusion, it is shown that this makes Quine's naturalism the psychological heir to Carnap's Aufbau.

Although Symons' recent book, On Dennett (Wadsworth, 2002), provides scientists with ahelpful, general introduction to Dennett'sthought, it presents a skewed version of the history of the philosophy of mind. In particular, the continental tradition is almost entirely ignored, if not glibly dismissed. As aresult, the unwary reader of this book wouldnever realize that Dilthey, Sartre and Husserl,like Dennett, offer a ``middle ground'' between naturalistic realism and naturalistic eliminativism. However, unlike Dennett, the respective positions of Dilthey, Sartre and Husserl are not ontologically indifferent, but instead, present a non-naturalistic form of realism that does not simultaneously invoke Cartesian dualism.

In this ambitious, far-reaching book, Robert Roecklein argues that the philosophical notion of "atomism" has had, and continues to have, a rather crippling effect on philosophy and politics. In particular, Roecklein claims, "atomism" is a metaphysical theory, that, generally speaking, maintains that the ultimate, smallest bits of the universe are not perceivable. Moreover, these bits constitute "indestructible and eternal 'being.'" (xiii) As a result, according to the atomist, "ordinary" experience, particularly, "ordinary" perception -- where we appear to apprehend objects, e.g. tables and chairs -- does not, in fact, access "being." Concomitantly, the "ordinary" person is effectively disenfranchised from most political discussions because, Roecklein claims, political philosophers must have access to being: "Atomism is metaphysics. It leads us back into the domain of 'being.' The domain of 'being' of course is the domain of what exists. Political philosophers above all need to begin with what exists, because political philosophy in truth must begin as opinion" (33)

Here we will see that contrary to the party line, Hume’s notion of a relation should be understood, in all cases, as a peculiar non-necessary synthetic relation; unique, but similar in a certain constructive sense to what I characterize as a mathematical notion of synthesis. And, most controversially, I argue that this non-necessary synthetic notion of a relation includes Hume’s arithmetical relations, which have typically been interpreted as either “analytic,” necessary, or both. In this general respect, Hume anticipates Quine’s attack on the analytic/synthetic distinction.

According to Husserl, Hume’s empirical method was deeply flawed—like all empiricists, Hume did not, and could not adequately justify his method, much less his findings. Instead, Hume gives us a “circular” and “irrational” “psychological explanation” of “mediate judgments of fact,” i.e. of inductive inferences. Yet Husserl was certain that he could justify both his own method and his own findings with an appeal to the phenomenological, pre-theoretical, pre-naturalistic “epoché”. However, whether or not Husserl’s notion of an epoché is justified, or even viable, is not our focus here. Rather, our issue is with Hume, particularly: How could Hume have responded? In this paper, I show that in Book I of the Treatise, Hume did—however implicitly—appeal to a “pre-theoretical” notion of belief, which meets Husserl’s demands for a pre-theoretical grounding, i.e. a justificatory grounding. And so, his method is, at least in this respect, justified. But this belief is by no means “prenaturalistic.” Rather, it is a function of empirical data. In particular, it is a product of the “constant and coherent” impressions that seem to naturally obtain of experience. As a result, Hume’s method, which, in agreement with Husserl, we may characterize as psychology, does admit of a certain degree of regularity, but an empirical regularity. And according to Hume, contra Husserl’s complaints, this is the best that we can hope for; regularity will have to suffice, not certainty. However, it must be noted up front that this justification is implicit—Hume is not nearly as forthright as he could have been. Thus, making his position more explicit is the task of this paper. I am not presenting my own position, where I offer my own arguments. Instead, I present textual evidence, contextualized with ample explication. It is my hope that by doing so, Hume may more effectively make his case.

Peter Fosl presents an engaging and historically rich account of Hume's skepticism. For those readers interested in deepening their knowledge and understanding of Pyrrhonian and Academic skepticism, both in regard to their origins and their legacy, I highly recommend it. But I also recommend it for those who would like to better understand Hume's skepticism, although I do think there is some tension in Fosl's reading. Before I discuss this tension, a brief summary of the book is in order. Fosl's primary claim is that Hume's skepticism is a hybrid of Academic and Pyrrhonian skepticism. To show this, Fosl divides the book into two parts. In the first, Fosl presents a detailed account of the ancient and modern versions...

By Hume's own account, his most ambitious project, the Treatise on Human Nature, was a notoriously immature undertaking, choked with immutable difficulties.1 Perhaps as a result of this immaturity, and perhaps because, as Kant suggests above, Hume is perpetually misread, his view on objects remains obscured. What are they? Are they ideas? Impressions? Mindindependent objects? All three? None of the above? To date, scholars have not provided a unified, much less exhaustive, answer to these questions. Rather, four somewhat fragmented interpretations have been circulating in the literature. We may characterize them 2 as follows: 1.) The phenomenonalist reading, where objects are...