For the reasons that David offers, I agree that subjective feelingsof contentment are not sufficient for well-being: one couldfeel good and not be doing very well. At the same time, I would notconclude (not that David suggests otherwise) either that (1) positivefeelings of contentment are not necessary for well-being orthat (2) the fact that someone’s feeling of contentment was induced bydrugs (anti-depressants, ecstasy) by itself undermines that person’sclaim to well-being. Individuals who are suffering from depression notonly are suffering a loss of good feeling; in addition, they often havea difficult time motivating themselves to form and sustain significantrelationships, to gain a deeper understanding of the world, toappreciate beauty, etc. In other words, without a subjective feeling ofcontentment, humans are often unable to engage in the sorts ofactivities that objectivists about well-being tend to associate with a genuinely goodlife. Additionally, if I were to learn...

Slippery slope arguments generally have the following form. (1)If we allow X, then we will have no principled ground for resisting Y(once you step onto this slope at X, you’ll fall all the way to Y). (2) Y is obviously a bad thing. (3) Therefore, we shouldn’t allow X. So, for example, (1) If we allow physician-assisted suicide, then we’ll have no principled grounds for resisting involuntary euthanasia. (2) Involuntary euthanasia is obviously immoral. (3) Therefore, we ought not to allow physician-assisted suicide. Asyou can see from my example, whether a given slippery-slope argument iscompelling will depend on the plausibility of the first premise in thisargument form.

Very little gives me more pleasure than a good philosophical fight, andI suspect that the other women panelists on this site feel the sameway. Perhaps we are the exceptions that prove the rule of the womanlycooperative virtues. Yet I also know of many men who have no stomachfor a good philosophical argument, and I've never heard anyone suggestthat we should change our methods so that more men will feelmore "comfortable" in philosophy. More to the point, I'm not sure that I understand the contrast between adversative and cooperative methods of doing philosophy. The most forceful defense of a philosophical position will often be given by a person who believes that it is true, and correspondingly the most telling criticisms of an argument will often be discovered by those who are skeptical of the truth of its conclusion. But such a give and take between philosophical adversaries seems to me to be the best cooperative means of gaining philosophical insight. As Socrates explained to his...

This conversation reminds me of one that Plato often representsSocrates as having with certain sophists. Socrates asks them just whatin the world they are claiming to teach. They offer an answer that isvery similar to Richard’s: “We teach our students how to think clearlyand well.” Socrates wouldn’t be satisfied. After all, don’t allteachers claim to teach their students how to think well? "About whatsubject matter do philosophers teach us to think well?" Socrates wouldask. The answer, as is evident from this website, is: “A whole lot ofthings.” AsLouise noted in her response to the original question, oneof the things with which philosophers have traditionally been concernedis how one ought to live one’s life. A philosophy department’s offeringswould be seriously lacking if it didn’t include courses in whichstudents were taught to think well about ethical issues. Richard saysthat he doesn't know whether he is an expert on living life well in an effort to explain why it would be inappropriate...

Such a view about legitimate state action often rests on the following sort of argument: (1) Since coercion is generally wrong, the coercive activities of the state (setting up rules that are backed up by credible threats of punishment) need a special justification. (2) The only such justification that would be possible is the actual or hypothetical prior consent of those to whom the rules apply. (3) No one would reasonably give prior consent to being coerced to act in her own self-interest (except, perhaps, under conditions in which she loses her mental faculties). (4) Therefore, paternalistic laws (those that require citizens to act in ways that further their own self-interest) are unjustified. All three premises of this argument are debatable.

Your question suggests that answers to the question “What is thefunction of X?’ will have normative implications about what we ought orought not, may or may not, do to Xs. And this fact is puzzling. How,you might be wondering, can certain facts about an object’s functionhave any implications about what I may or may not do to it? And I thinkthat you are right to be skeptical: in the case of ashtrays, functionaldefinitions have no normative implications for us– about what we may ormay not do to them. However, behind your question may be Aristotle’s “function argument” in the Nicomachean Ethics (I 7), where he argues that information about the “function” ( ergon ) of humans has implications for what sort of life humans ought to live-- “ought”, that is, if they are going to be well off. Onmy view, Aristotle’s notion of function does not correspond to any ofthe three notions of function that Nick distinguishes for ashtrays. Todistinguish Aristotle’s notion from those that Nick defines, I’ll...

I agree that the idea of being held responsible for our emotions ispuzzling. It seems that in order to be responsible for X, it has tohave been up to me whether to X. Actions seem to be good candidates forresponsibility, since they seem to be something over which I havecontrol– when someone annoys me, I can choose whether to utter somecaustic remark or instead bite my tongue. But what about my feelingannoyed in the first place– do I have any choice about that? And ifnot, then can I really be held responsible for this emotional reaction? Aristotle is very helpful on this point. While it is true that on theparticular occasion on which you feel the emotion, you can’t help butfeel it, you are nonetheless responsible for your emotion since youwere responsible for becoming the sort of person who feels this sort ofemotion. Being susceptible to bad emotional responses (i.e., having a badcharacter) is, on Aristotle’s view, like being sick. "For neither does a sick person recover his health [simply by...

I agree that on one understanding of the question “Why should I bemoral?” the question is unintelligible. But I think that when mostpeople ask the question, “Why should I be moral?” they are asking aquestion that is short-hand for more substantive questions, like “Whyshould I tell the truth?” “Why shouldn’t I cheat on this exam?” “Whyshould I refrain from stealing if I can get away with it?” “Why shouldI care about anyone other than myself?” Morality, it seems, requires meto restrain my pursuit of my own self-interest for the sake of theinterests of others, and I think that it completely reasonable to askwhy I should do that. (It’s interesting, I think, that few people feelcompelled to answer the question, “Why should I care about myself?”). Different answers have been offered to the question,“Why be moral?” Most common (and least plausible, to my mind) is theanswer, “Because the Gods want you to.” Least common (but mostplausible, to my mind) is the answer, “Because by taking seriously theinterests of...

Socrates makes this remark in the Gorgias in a context in which he’s arguing against Polus’ conception of the good life– that is, the life that is good for the person who is living it. He is not arguing for the greater importance of moral value over prudential value (or what Sally calls individual well-being); he is arguing that a person who cares solely about his own individual well-being, as Polus does, should be concerned never to do injustice. This is not because he should worry about getting caught, or about the possibility of someone taking revenge on his unjust actions, but solely because being an unjust person, in itself, is a bad state to be in-- that is, bad for the person who is unjust. In fact, Socrates believes that being a virtuous person is of overriding prudential value. No other thing comes close to virtue in prudential value, and so, whenever one is faced with the choice between being virtuous and not being virtuous– no matter what benefits might result from one’s vicious actions-...

But perhaps the question is not whether the two of us could have existed as one, but whether I could have been her. It’s certainly easy to imagine oneself as another person (well, perhaps not so easy), and this sympathetic imagination easily leads to the question whether I could have actually been the person whose experiences I’m imagining? Could I have been Napolean? If my mother had waited just a few minutes before having sex with my father, would I have been a different person (since undoubtedly a different sperm and egg would have united)? If my mother had had sex with a different man, would I have been an even more different person?