08 Sunday Feb 2026
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Politics, Truth
Tags
academia, Charlie Kirk, democracy, Harriet Taylor Mill, John Stuart Mill, pedagogy, Rebecca Tuvel, rights
Freedom of speech and expression is essential to a good society, to protect both the search for truth and self-expression. The problem is that protecting freedom of expression is harder than it looks – because some speech interferes with other speech.
John Stuart and Harriet Taylor Mill get this point clearly enough that they are worth quoting in full:
Continue reading01 Sunday Feb 2026
Tags
Greg Lukianoff, Harriet Taylor Mill, John Stuart Mill, law, libertarianism, Randall Munroe, rights, Stephen Colbert, United States
We need free speech both to search for truth, and to express ourselves. When free speech is silenced, it interferes with both of those core human goals.
And it therefore needs to be said loud and clear: silencing speech is a problem no matter who is doing the silencing.
Continue reading25 Sunday Jan 2026
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Certainty and Doubt, Economics, Flourishing, Humility, Politics, Truth
Tags
academia, Alasdair MacIntyre, Elizabeth Barnes, expressive individualism, Harriet Taylor Mill, John Stuart Mill, Noah Feldman, utilitarianism
Freedom of thought, belief, speech, and expression is a principle long cherished in the West. In recent years it has come under the most sustained attack I have seen in my lifetime, from multiple quarters. I believe it is worth defending, and it’s time to say more about why.
On Liberty, generally attributed to the English philosopher John Stuart Mill, is the most famous and widely cited defence of this principle, and for good reason. I had a low opinion of Mill for a while, as his Utilitarianism did a bad job, overall, of defending the utilitarianism I broke from – and that was one of the key reasons I broke from it. But On Liberty is an entirely different story. It provides a powerful and, I think, largely correct defence of free thought and speech on two grounds – neither of which is particularly utilitarian!
Perhaps the difference is because it now seems likely the book was co-written with Harriet Taylor Mill, John Stuart’s wife – probably published without the woman’s name on it to make a Victorian audience to take it more seriously. (For that reason I’ll refer to On Liberty as written by “the Mills”.) It might be that Harriet was less of a utilitarian than John. But the point here is the two big grounds that the Mills provide for why freedom of speech is important.
Continue reading07 Sunday Dec 2025
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Logic, Politics
Tags
Caitlyn Jenner, expressive individualism, gender, Ibram X. Kendi, identity, John Stuart Mill, race, Rachel Dolezal, Rebecca Tuvel
The bullying campaign to cancel Rebecca Tuvel’s defence of transracialism was shoddy and shameful. There was no merit in it at all. Whether or not you think Tuvel’s argument for transracialism succeeds, that part seems to me pretty obvious. But it does raise the next question, to which the answers are less obvious: does Tuvel’s argument work? Does the logic of accepting transgender identity imply accepting transracial identity?
You could not have got me to answer that question (in public) back in 2017, while Tuvel was still being actively persecuted. For a while, that bullying campaign and others like it successfully achieved their goal of terror: they succeeded in getting me, and others like me, to silence our dissenting views out of fear of the consequences that were so regularly experienced by others.
But the climate has changed a lot since then, in ways that make it still harder to speak on some issues (like Israel and Palestine), but easier to speak on this one. So I am going to take a risk now, stick my head up, bite the bullet, and answer the question: yes!
Continue reading29 Sunday Jun 2025
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Certainty and Doubt, Fear, Humility, Metaphilosophy, Politics
Tags
academia, Daily Nous, gender, identity, John Stuart Mill, Karl Marx, Kathleen Stock, Willow Starr
Transgender identity raises a variety of interesting philosophical questions, and on an issue this controversial, the answers to those questions will necessarily be controversial too. I recently found myself embroiled in some of this controversy on Daily Nous, the main blog for philosophy as a profession.
I’ll start here by recapping the controversy to date, before turning to a response. There’s a new free zine out just launched, called Being Trans in Philosophy, which shares trans philosophers’ stories of their experiences. That’s not the controversial part: I think it’s great to give trans philosophers a dedicated space to tell their stories! I have no objection to the zine itself. What I objected to was this passage in the zine’s press release:
Philosophical conversations about trans people do not happen in a vacuum. They happen in a political context where trans people are relentlessly attacked and a material context where trans lives are particularly vulnerable. These contexts make it impossible to “just ask questions” about trans people. And trans people and our loved ones are not okay—in, with, and because of our discipline.
Continue reading
01 Sunday Oct 2017
Tags
Alasdair MacIntyre, Four Noble Truths, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jan Westerhoff, John Stuart Mill, Pali suttas, Rāmāyana, rebirth, Śāntideva, suicide, Thailand
Last time I discussed Jan Westerhoff’s potent objection to naturalized Buddhism: if there is no rebirth then we can end our suffering simply by committing suicide. Westerhoff takes this objection as a reason to accept rebirth. I do not. Rather, I take it as pointing to a deeper problem with some core Buddhist teachings as they are usually understood. Continue reading
12 Sunday Apr 2015
Tags
Alasdair MacIntyre, Immanuel Kant, John Stuart Mill, law, Leif Wenar, obligation, rights, United States, William of Ockham
We have seen over the past few posts that while the idea of individual rights is not just a modern invention, it also is far from a universal one. Rights are not obvious or commonsensical. Contra the American Declaration of Independence, they are not self-evident.
Rather, rights need reasons. If one wants to get to the truth of the matter (and not merely to achieve an expedient political deal), it is never good enough to say something should be done for, or not done to, a person “because he has a right to it”. The right itself requires a justification. Sometimes one’s interlocutor already agrees that the person has this right, but in many cases – the most important cases – they do not in fact agree.
This point is easy to lose sight of, perhaps especially in the contemporary United States where the opposing political sides rarely speak to each other. Each side insists it is defending rights: the employee’s right to contraception, Hobby Lobby‘s right to refuse to provide contraception on religious grounds, the fetus’s right to life, the woman’s right to an abortion. But what is in question here – assuming we acknowledge the existence of rights in the first place – is who has which rights. And then we need to provide reasons.
On Leif Wenar’s modern definition, a right is an entitlement. Historically, when William of Ockham articulated a concept of rights that would get increasingly taken up in the years following, it was a potesta licitas: a legal power, a power of licence. Key to a right is an entitlement or licence that implies an obligation of others to respect it.
But who grants the licence, the entitlement, the permission? Continue reading
12 Sunday Feb 2012
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Confucianism, Foundations of Ethics, Metaphilosophy, Morality, Psychology, Self
Tags
Alan Gewirth, Alasdair MacIntyre, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jean Piaget, John Rawls, John Stuart Mill, Ken Wilber, Lawrence Kohlberg, modernism, modernity, Thomas Aquinas, Zhu Xi
While recently poring over Ken Wilber‘s works, I’ve thought repeatedly about his ideas in relation to Alasdair MacIntyre‘s. Wilber, ever since he identified the pre-trans fallacy, has been an arch-modernist: the world from the Enlightenment onwards has been far better than the traditional world that preceded it. His most recent phase has taken a more postmodern, relativistic turn, but even as a postmodernist he is still a modernist: for Wilber the pluralism of a postmodern worldview is a clear advance, a development, and a pretty unambiguous one.
This is not the worldview one finds in MacIntyre. Continue reading
16 Sunday Oct 2011
Posted in Deity, Early and Theravāda, Foundations of Ethics, Karma, Mahāyāna, Self
Tags
Alasdair MacIntyre, Andrew Skilton, atheism, autobiography, Damien Keown, Friedrich Nietzsche, G.E. Moore, John Stuart Mill, Kate Crosby, Paul Williams, Penelope Trunk, Sam Harris, Śāntideva
Today’s post follows up on those from two and three weeks ago, and there’ll be another one next week. I intend the four posts, taken together, to make a statement about the continuing importance of the idea of God: why, in the face of the very real problem of suffering and the scientific ability to easily do without God as an explanation of life’s apparent design, God is still hard to do away with. I mean this on an intellectual and philosophical level, not merely an emotional one; it is not just that we need to bother with God because so many people out have some neurological need for him, but that there yet remain ways in which God helps us to make sense of reality.
I’m going to begin this week not with God, but with Buddhism. Continue reading
21 Tuesday Jul 2009
Posted in Analytic Tradition, Foundations of Ethics, Happiness, Politics, Social Science, Work
I’ve noticed that the “About me” page on this blog has so far got more views than any other. So I hope it won’t be overly narcissistic of me to wax autobiographical for a moment, and expand (in this post and the next) on the story that I tell there, of how I came to the kind of philosophy I have now.
Philosophy intrigued me a lot in high school. My first real exposure to it was in grade 9, in 1990, in a mini-course at Queen’s University offered to precocious high-school students in my home town; I came to really enjoy it in a philosophy course that my high school offered in grade 12. What appealed to me most at the time was ethics, in a conventional sense (as opposed to the expanded sense that matters to me now): explanations of why we should do what we should do. But what those courses taught me above all was that I was a committed utilitarian; everything came down to acting for the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. Mill’s Utilitarianism was the first philosophical book I ever read in the original. It’s no coincidence that I was also a dedicated political activist at the time, participating in every left-wing cause I could get my hands on.
I started having philosophical qualms about utilitarianism soon afterwards, as I began my undergrad years studying sociology and urban geography at McGill; I couldn’t find a satisfying philosophical justification for it. I hadn’t read John Rawls at the time, but if I had, I probably would have become a worshipful devotee of his. (As I noted last time, while Rawls isn’t a utilitarian as such, and devotes much of his energy to attacking utilitarianism, the resulting worldview looks very much like utilitarianism’s: a life spent in political action to uplift the most deprived people.)
But while I saw problems with a utilitarian worldview, there wasn’t much to replace it, and during those years I remained more or less a utilitarian by default. Things really changed after graduation, when I went to work for the United Nations in Bangkok, trying to edit works that would help coordinate efforts for people with disabilities in Asia and the Pacific: a supremely utilitarian or Rawlsian job, aiming to help out millions of people in the direst of physical conditions.
And I found there was that I was terribly unhappy. Small things, like paper jams on printers, drove me to desperation. I wasn’t all that much more unhappy than I’d been in the previous years, but I was noticing it more. My unhappiness posed a significant problem for a utilitarian worldview, a problem that standard critiques of utilitarianism usually don’t get at. Namely: in the name of the greatest happiness, I was trying to help ensure that all these poor and deprived people could have the kinds of opportunities I’d had in my own privileged upbringing. But what good is it do to that, if someone with all these opportunities and privilege can still end up miserable?