This is a really important question, but it is also one that too many people think is self-answering--as if it is simply obvious that if we are not feeding the poor or curing the sick (or whatever) we are simply being selfish and immoral. There are a couple of ways to resist this extreme position. (1) Supererogation is what ethicists call it when something goes "above and beyond the call of duty"--what is more like heroic than morally required. A moral theory (or command) that requires supererogation is regarded as faulty, because by any such theory or command, it will turn out that perfectly decent human behavior (like me teaching a class on Socrates) is immoral, simply because I could be doing something more likely to cure the sick or feed the poor (or whatever). What's more, (2) A theory or command that mandates such high standards at all times would, in all likelihood, make us all miserable , because we could never take a break, never seek simple (and innocent)...

As I understand it, the issue at stake here is that people (and not just women) want to be able to regard their workplace as just that--a workplace. The minute someone in that place begins to give sexual attention to someone else in that workplace, the environment is changed--and changed in a way that makes the workplace no longer an entirely comfortable place to work. There are obviously degrees of sexual harassment, and I frankly don't think that giving unwanted sexual attention (that is in no way coersive) on a date could count--either ethically or legally--as harassment. But it is different in a workplace. If you find someone's sexual interest or expressions thereof unwanted on a date, you can always refuse to go out on another date with that person. But if you have to deal with this at a workplace, your only option is to try to find another job--which these days can be a major problem, and which a good worked should not have to feel that he or she has to do, to avoid someone acting in...

Epistemologists sometimes distinguish between different kinds of knowledge, and then they debate whether all of these kinds really are different, or whether they can (some or all) be reduced to a single kind. The kind of knowledge you seem to have in mind is generally called "propositional" knowledge (where what is known is a proposition, such as 'the cat is on the mat' which you would probably count as a fact). Our cognitions of facts may have propositional content (this is sometimes also debated), or perhaps our cognitions of such things may be encoded in a different way--such as with a visual image, map, or blueprint, etc.) So some epistemologists prefer to talk about "informational" knowledge, rather than propositional knowledge, because perhaps the information that is known is not encoded propositionally. But anyway, I assume it is this sort of knowledge that you have in mind. But I also think there are other kinds of knowledge that might be distinguished from "factual" knowledge. Here is...

I think it is not known at all! It is a hypothesis that no one (including Descartes) actually believes, much less knows. So I don't think your question actually applies...

Before I get to your question about death, I would really like you to reconsider your view of what life is all about. The view you express on this topic is generally called "hedonism," and this view is met with fairly strong resistance in most of the philosophical literature. Are there no bad pleasures (e.g. that of the sadist, as he tortures his victims)? But let's focus on your main question. As you note, some people believe in reincarnation. To be honest with you, this view does not seem coherent to me. Consider the claims made about reincarnation as claims made about personal identity. So, for example, I die, and "come back" as a chicken. In what sense is that clucking, feathery thing me ? It doesn't have my tastes in philosophy, art, music, food, or wine. It doesn't read Plato's dialogues or know Greek (or English!). I think about what it is like to be a chicken...and I come up empty. And I am pretty sure that the chicken also has no idea what it is like to be...

I don't think there is any clear fixed meaning to "judgmental," as it is used for so many different kinds of cases. Generally, it is applied as a term of reproach; so perhaps we should understand it as applicable to those who pass judgment without good reasons, or in situations where the judgments (presumably negative ones--we don't normally characterize someone as "judgmental" if the judgments they pass are mostly favorable ones!) are made without sufficient social ground for making such judgments. Thosse who engage in "inexcusable evil" certainly merit our negative judgment. But decent and dignified people do not feel the need to pass judgment on each and every case of faux pas or clumsiness they happen to witness. Being "judgmental" seems to go along with failures of various other traits we regard as socially virtuous: modesty, forgiveness, grace, kindness, and generosity. My guess is that every case that really deserves to be called "judgmental" behavior will also be accompanied by some failure...

It seems to me that there might be any number of such bases, yes, but perhaps there is a single generic way to characterize most (if perhaps not all) of them. One way to think of your life (since, after all, you are going to die eventually anyway) is to regard it as a whole, and to evaluate that whole as a kind of multi-media creation (part historical narrative, part performance art, etc.). Viewed in this way, sacrificing whatever is left of your life to save another's might seem very reasonably to count as the perfect ending for this work of art that is your life.

Before I try to give an answer to your question directly, I want to object to the claim that seems to be its basis. I do believe that recent psychological research about happiness supports at least some elements of what might be called "irrationalism." On the other hand, it seems to me that this same research always treats happiness as a purely subjective property, and I want to make clear that this subjectivist treatment of happiness is very much at odds with the objectivist presumption in most of the philosophical literature on happiness. To quote myself (the easiest author for me to remember!), "Giddy morons may suppose they pursue their interest by doing what only makes them giddier and more foolish, but sensible evaluation will conclude that such lives are nothing to envy. The addict's high, even secured by ba lifetime supply of intoxicants, is no model of surpassing success in the pursuit of self-interest" (T. C. Brickhouse and N. D. Smith, Socratic Moral Psychology , Cambridge:...

Your question cannot be answered without some specification of what knowledge is--what counts as knowledge. This topic is extremely controversial among epistemologists. But I think one aspect of your question allows at least a part of an answer to it. Epistemologists may not agree on the entire analysis of knowledge, but most agree that whatever is known must be true, and most agree that in order to know something you at least have to believe it. The real controversies tend to begin when epistemologists debate what is now often called the "warrant" condition, which is the purposely vague expression used to denote whatever else is needed for knowledge, other than true belief--or to put it slightly differently, whatever it is that distinguished knowledge from other species of true belief. Now think a little bit about the (relatively uncontroversial) belief condition. What does it mean to believe something? One thing belief is often supposed to include is a dispositional component. ...

Looks to me as if you and your friend are having a debate in which the only options on the table are not the only ones available for consideration. Part of what it means to be a human animal is to live with others. This means that just at the level of fitness, we will do better if we have the resources (whether natural or socialized, as I suspect a good deal of both) to deal with others in positive ways. Precisely because there are many others around us who really matter to us, the distinction between "best for me" and "best for others" becomes both artificial and also distorting. What is "best for me" is often for me to sacrifice at least some degree of narrow self-interest in order to help others to flourish. This is the kind of thing that parents and friends do for each other all the time. But it is not limited simply to those close to us. Studies have shown that people who are given money and told to spend it on others report greater happiness thanm those who are given money and told to...