the right to enforce the morality prevailing within it, irre- spective of the critical soundness of that morality, for the sake of preserving social cohesion. H. L. A. Hart coun- tered that Devlin’s ‘social disintegration thesis’ was either an empty ‘conceptual’ thesis which trivially identifies soci- ety with whatever moral views happen at the moment to be dominant in a community, or else it was an ‘empirical’ thesis which historical evidence fails to vindicate. Contemporary defenders of morals legislation typically eschew Devlin’s approach in favour of the traditional jus- tification of morals legislation under which its primary purpose is not social cohesion per se, but, rather, the pro- tection of morally good character against the corrupting influences of vice. Thus, they reject Devlin’s *relativism and understand the critical soundness of a moral judge- ment to be a necessary condition of its justified legal enforcement. r.p.g. *liberalism; liberty; toleration; public–private distinc- tion; enforcement of morals. Patrick Devlin, The Enforcement of Morals (London, 1965). Robert P. George, Making Men Moral: Civil Liberties and Public Morality (Oxford, 1993). H. L. A. Hart, Law, Liberty, and Morality (Stanford, Calif., 1963). D. A. J. Richards, Sex, Drugs, Death, and the Law (Totowa, NJ, 1982). public–private distinction. Privacy is an important, though a recent and by no means a universal, value. Analyses of it are dominated by liberal conceptions of a ‘private sphere’ which sets normative and empirical limits to state and social power over the individual. In his private life the individual is not and should not be regulated by laws or subject to social pressure; in public life he shares, assents to, or anyway obeys, norms and laws governing his relations with others, and accepts social and political authority. Conceptions of the boundary between public and private have altered. Economic relations have been under- stood to be private, and their legal regulation resisted. Now ‘the family’ epitomizes the private sphere. However, the implication that family relations are not and should not be regulated by the state or subject to shared, publicly accepted standards of morality is contested. e.j.f. *liberalism; liberty; public morality. Carole Pateman, ‘Feminist Critiques of the Public/Private Dichotomy’, in S. Benn and G. Gaus (eds.), Public and Private in Social Life (London, 1983); repr. in Carole Pateman, The Dis- order of Women (Cambridge, 1989). publishing philosophy. The Greek word for bookseller dates from the time of Plato, who foreshadowed the alliance between philosophers and publishers when he prescribed his own work the Laws as the set text for study in the ideal city it describes. Cicero’s friend Atticus was one of those who made a business of the copying and dis- tribution of books in the ancient world. In the early Roman Empire some books were priced as low as six ses- terces; Cicero had claimed that a feeble slave could earn three sesterces a day at Rome. Nor did mass production await the age of printing: the emperor Constantine ordered multiple copies of works by Christian writers for dissemination through his empire. At some medieval universities students were required to own copies of their teacher’s lectures, and they might pay someone to supply them with a copy. In 1304, thirty years after Aquinas’s death, his Quaestiones disputatae de veritate could be rented from a Paris bookseller for four shillings. But, since the work runs to more than a thou- sand pages, a substantial burden of labour remained. Aquinas’s output of eight million words in thirty years is equivalent, in today’s terms, to two substantial mono- graphs per annum and a few journal articles too. Descartes moved to Leiden in 1636 specifically to be at the centre of publishing. The liberal Dutch laws had allowed the Elseviers to become the leading publishers of the time; they numbered Galileo among their authors, and had expressed interest in Descartes’s work. But they ‘made difficulties’ for him, and so it was their neighbour Jan Maire who became known to posterity as the pub- lisher of the Discours. The print run was 3,000, out of which Descartes received 200 free copies. The late seventeenth century saw the flourishing of learned journals. Until 1710, that was where one had to look to find Leibniz’s work: he first published his ‘New System’ in 1695 in the Journal des savants (the official organ of the French Academy of Sciences, founded in 1666); he also wrote in Latin for such journals as the Leipzig-based Acta eruditorum. Spinoza dared not let his greatest work, the Ethics, be published while he was alive, and sought refuge in pseudo- nymy for his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus of 1670; just as well, since it was generally considered blasphemous. More surprising, perhaps, that Kant too was the author of a banned book: in 1794 King Frederick William II’s Spiritual Affairs Commission issued an order forbidding professors to lecture on his Religion within the Bounds of Mere Reason. Kant had published it under the imprint of the Königsberg philosophy faculty in order to avoid censorship. The three greatest works of English-language philoso- phy were published in London. Thomas Hobbes entrusted his Leviathan to Andrew Crooke, who was to be found at the sign of the Green Dragon in the precinct of St Paul’s cathedral. The controversy over the book both aroused demand and made the publisher nervous about satisfying it, with the result that the price rose from eight and a half shillings in 1651 to thirty in 1668, before settling at seventeen in 1692. The notoriety of Leviathan made publishing difficult for Hobbes: after 1662 he was obliged to seek a licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury for the publication of any work on politics or society; and in the case of Behemoth this was refused, even though the work was a favourite of the king. Thirty-eight years after Leviathan, Locke’s Essaywas first printed by Elizabeth Holt in 1689 for the publisher Thomas Bassett, at the George in Fleet Street, just down the road 770 public morality from St Paul’s. Locke had signed a contract with Bassett in May 1689; printing began immediately, and copies were on sale by the end of the year. By 1700 the book was in its fifth edition, with another publisher, the rights having been sold on twice before the second edition. The first two books of Hume’s Treatise were published by John Noon in 1739, at the White Hart in Cheapside, on the other side of the cathedral. Noon specialized in philoso- phy and religion, and paid Hume £50 for the right to print an edition of no more than 1,000 copies. By the time the third book appeared in the following year, Thomas Long- man had already supplanted Noon as publisher. Some were more loyal: the Paris publisher Rey was one of the few people whom Rousseau did not suspect of scheming against him, and voluntarily settled an annuity of 300 francs on Rousseau’s ‘womenfolk’ in grateful acknowledgement that the publisher owed his prosperity to the philosopher. Up to the middle of the twentieth century, much phil- osophy publishing in English was undertaken by general commercial presses, British and American. But as philoso- phy books have become more specialist, they have mainly been handled by specialist publishers. Large commercial presses like Penguin and Harper Collins occasionally show interest in the subject, but most philosophy books are published either by specialists in academic publishing or by specialists in textbook publishing. One or two of the European giants of science publishing, such as Kluwer of Dordrecht, dabble in philosophy, usually at the technical end of the subject where it is most like a science. At the start of the twenty-first century there are two large commercial presses with a strength in philosophy. Blackwell built on its prestige as publisher of Wittgenstein and disciples to head the field for a period in the 1980s, but in the 1990s decided to concentrate mainly on textbook, reference, and journal publishing. Routledge now pub- lishes a broader range of philosophy than any other press, having inherited a legacy of works by such as Russell, Popper, and Wittgenstein from companies that it swallowed. In 1922 Kegan Paul had offered Wittgenstein no fee and no royalties for the English publication of his Tractatus; when the author tried to negotiate some money at the time of a reprint in 1933, he received no reply, and so that was the end of his dealings with the company. In 1998 Routledge was itself taken over by an ancient publishing company, long moribund, now growing fast: Taylor and Francis, then still auspiciously located just off Fleet Street. One of the parent company’s founders, Richard Taylor, had established a pioneering independent academic journal, the Philosophical Magazine, in 1798. Most publishers of academic philosophy today are uni- versity presses, helped or hindered in their business by their relationships with their parent institutions. The uni- versity presses of Oxford and Cambridge are the largest and most international of academic philosophy publish- ers. CUP claims to be the oldest university press in the world, having published its first book in 1584, just in time for the birth of modern philosophy. Their leading Ameri- can counterparts are Harvard and Princeton; others have strengths in specific areas—for instance, MIT in cognitive science, Chicago in social and political theory, Cornell in aesthetics and philosophy of religion. In 2002 the Univer- sity of California Press withdrew from philosophy pub- lishing, despite the university’s continuing prominence in the subject: increasing difficulties in the academic book market were cited. Charges frequently made against academic publishers are that they encourage the proliferation of books beyond what the readership can cope with, and that they sell back to universities books that the universities have paid their members to write. But it was the universities that built publication into the career structure for academics. And any profiteer would be scared off by the margins in phil- osophy publishing. The electronic revolution in publishing is proceeding more slowly than predicted by zealots and Jeremiahs. Paper will continue to be the principal commercial medium for philosophy publishing for a while yet, even though informal electronic dissemination has become a staple of philosophical intercourse. Most philosophers who publish several books do not stick with one publisher for all of them; they optimistically hope that the next one will be free of the shortcomings of the last. But monogamy is less meaningful when it can only be one-way. And a good publishing relationship may even be refreshed by the author’s straying into an unsuit- able dalliance. To complicate matters, philosophy editors often turn out to be consorts of philosophers; which of those blessed estates leads to the other varies from case to case. p.n.m. Pufendorf, Samuel von (1632–94). German legal and political philosopher. A follower, at some distance, of Grotius and Hobbes, he carried on their project of secular- izing matural law. Other, less direct, influences were Descartes and Spinoza, from whom he derived a math- ematical ideal of philosophical exposition. A Protestant, in his first book he attacked the (Catholic) Holy Roman Empire. He served as court librarian to the king of Sweden, during twenty years in that country, and then to the elector of Brandenburg. Nevertheless he entertained the idea of a European federation. While in Sweden he wrote a history of the country which was exemplary in its reliance on archival materials. His chief work, The Law of Nature and Nations (1672), firmly distinguishes natural law from divine law. He consistently concluded that in terres- trial matters the church should be subordinate to the state. Like Althusius, he argues for two contracts: one to form a community out of mere individuals, the other between the community so formed and a ruler. Where Hobbes derived the law of nature from our fear of violent death at each others’ hands, Pufendorf more cheerfully deduced it from man’s sociable instinct. a.q. Leonard Krieger, The Politics of Discretion (Chicago, 1965). punishment. Since punishment involves intentionally inflicting deprivations on persons by someone with punishment 771 authority to do so, and since the deprivations themselves are typically not unlike the harms that crimes cause (fines are like theft, imprisonment like kidnapping, etc.), punish- ment has generally been thought to need justification, especially in a constitutional democracy committed in theory to the protection of human rights and the values of individual liberty, privacy, and autonomy. Justification may be undertaken either by reference to extrinsic (conse- quentialist) considerations, or by reference to intrinsic (retributive) factors. In an effort to accommodate both retributive and con- sequentialist norms, some recent theories justify punish- ment by dividing the issue in a manner reflecting the different competencies of an ideal legislature and judge. Thus, the primary concern amounts to answering a legislative question: Why is anyone punished, or made liable to punishment, in the first place? The secondary issue is in effect the judicial question: Why is this person being punished, and in why in this manner? The former can be answered best by citing the benefits conferred on a society (family, organization, civil polity) by the institution of punishment as a permanent, public threat-system that provides an indispensable incentive to obey the law. In so far as the justification of punishment is conceived in this manner, it is inescapably forward- looking, purposive, and consequentialist in nature (though not necessarily utilitarian). Assuming such a system to be in place, with its various offices ( judges, prosecutors) and rules (crimes and punish- ments defined by statute, due process of law), then the punishment of a given individual is justified to the extent that the rules of the system incorporate appropriate con- straints on trials and sentencing and are correctly applied to the individual case. Central to such rules is the proced- ure by which the accused is found guilty of a crime on the basis of suitable evidence weighed in an unbiased manner. If the actual infliction of punishment is understood in this fashion, it is always backward-looking (resting on the con- viction and sentencing of a guilty offender) and thus plausibly viewed as retributive. Retribution accommodated in this narrow manner falls far short of its role in a full-blown retributive theory of punishment, such as Kant’s or Hegel’s. They appeal to retributive notions not only to determine who ought to be punished, but also to determine what punishment the guilty person deserves and the very rationale for a system of punishment in the first place. Deserved punishment for the retributivist is equivalent (as in lex talionis) or at least proportional in its severity to the harm done in the crime and the culpability of the offender. The retributive ration- ale of a system of punishment is that justice requires inflicting harm on wrongdoers. Whether such an a priori principle as this can be defended against alternative (typ- ically consequentialist) principles continues to be debated. The goals or purposes of any system of punishment are likely to be several and diverse, including vindicating the law, crime prevention, and offender rehabilitation. Philo- sophical disputes over punishment typically focus on which goal is to take priority over others and why. As Friedrich Nietzsche shrewdly observed, ‘punishment is overdetermined by utilities of every kind’ (Genealogy of Morals, ii. 14). He failed to note that the penalty sched- ule—the actual ordering of crimes ranked in their gravity with punishments ranked in their severity—is under- determined by every theory of punishment. The two- tiered theory described above can reasonably claim to offer the most hospitable accommodation to the diverse relevant principles, but it provides no solution to this problem. h.a.b. *capital punishment; desert. R. A. Duff, Trials and Punishments (Cambridge, 1986). —— and D. Garland (eds.), A Reader on Punishment (Oxford, 1995). David Garland, Punishment and Modern Society: A Study in Social Theory (Chicago, 1990). Ted Honderich, Punishment: The Supposed Justifications (Cam- bridge, 1989). C. L. Ten, Crime, Guilt, and Punishment (Oxford, 1987). punishment, capital: see capital punishment. pushpin and poetry is a critical slogan popularized by J. S. Mill in criticism of the work of Bentham. (Pushpin was a primitive game which involved shoving pins.) Mill cites Bentham as holding that *poetry is no more valuable than pushpin, if they give the same amount of *pleasure. This is in accord with the principle of *utility. However, Ben- tham’s point when he made the remark was not about pri- vate value but that the two activities should be equally worthy of governmental subsidy if they give the same amount of pleasure. r.h. J. Bentham, The Rationale of Reward (London, 1825), 206. J. S. Mill, ‘Bentham’, in Works, x. 113. Putnam, Hilary (1926– ). Harvard philosopher, trained originally in the tradition of *Logical Positivism, especially by Rudolph Carnap. Putnam later came under the influ- ence of such philosophers as W. V. Quine, Ludwig Wittgenstein, and Nelson Goodman. In the process, he strayed from the fold, and eventually became a severe critic of that movement. Against positivism, he argues that there is no privileged foundation (e.g. *sense-data) to our know- ledge, no fixed principle of verifiability, no *fact–value dis- tinction as the positivists characterized it, and that sentences (our beliefs) cannot be assessed as true or false individually (i.e. *holism rather than atomism is correct). Putnam is also a critic of another foundationalist pos- ition, which he calls metaphysical realism. All God’s eye points of view that claim to give us the account of the Fur- niture of the World are wrong-headed whether they come from a relativist–positivist or a realist–materialist perspec- tive. His own ‘middle’ position he characterizes as ‘inter- nal realism’. It is a kind of latter-day *Kantianism that talks about the (real) world, but does so always within the framework of our mind (concepts, sets of beliefs, commit- ments). His position, Putnam claims, characterizes the objectivity of both science and ethics better than do the 772 punishment extreme positions he opposes. If anything, these extreme views undermine rather than support objectivity. Of late, Putnam has rejected *functionalism, the theory that mental states are computational states—a theory he himself founded earlier in his career. Of late he has also written about matters of ethics and politics. Like his views in metaphysics and epistemology, he tends to want to hold a middle, yet somewhat liberal, position between two extremes—although he confesses there were times (e.g. during the Vietnam War) when he flirted with Marx- ism, a position he now finds extreme. n.f. *verification principle. Hilary Putnam, Representation and Reality (Cambridge, Mass., 1988). —— Realism with a Human Face (Cambridge, Mass., 1990). —— Renewing Philosophy (Cambridge, Mass., 1992). Pyrrho (4th–3rd century bc). A citizen, and priest, of Elis, identified (through the writings of Timon of Phlius) as the first representative of ‘Pyrrhonian *scepticism’, the refusal to commit oneself to any positive belief. Anecdotes were told of his indifference to disaster (and his friends’ saving him from accidental falls). He was said to have accompanied Alexander to the borders of India and learned this detachment from the ‘gymnosophists’, or naked philosophers. Like Diogenes the *Cynic he pointed to animals as living undisturbed, and enviable, lives: a pig on board ship during a severe storm continued to eat while people (except Pyrrho) panicked. Mocked for being alarmed by a fierce dog, he conceded that it was hard to strip off human nature, but attempted to maintain tran- quillity by balancing any plausible-sounding thesis with its plausible opposite, and binding himself to nature, custom, impulse, and craft-discipline without affirming any thesis to be true. s.r.l.c. Myles Burnyeat and Michael Frede (eds.), The Original Sceptics: A Controversy (New York, 1997). Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, tr. R. D. Hicks (London, 1925). Pyrrhonism. A sceptical tradition whose leading figure was Pyrrho of Elis (c.365–270 bc), but handed down to us in the works of Sextus Empiricus. Pyrrho argued that the reasons in favour of a belief are never better than those against (isostheneia—a situation of equal strength), and that the only possible response to this is to stop worrying (ataraxia) and to live by the appearances. He suggested that this life would have a lot to recommend it; critics maintained that it would be very uncomfortable, at best. The question who was right depends on what is meant by ‘live by the appearances’. Sextus’ work was rediscovered in the mid-sixteenth century; the sceptical concerns of Montaigne and Descartes are a direct response, though Cartesian scepti- cism seems to be directed more against the possibility of knowledge than against the possibility of having better reasons in favour of some belief than against it. j.d. *scepticism, history of; scepticism. J. Annas and J. Barnes (eds.), The Modes of Scepticism: Ancient Texts and Modern Interpretations (Cambridge, 1985). Pythagoras (c.550–c.500 bc). An elusive figure who may have been an intellectual catalyst. Little is known of his life; authentic detail has been drowned in the many legends and tendentious later ‘reconstructions’ of his activities. A polymath and a charismatic figure, he emigrated from his native Samos to southern Italy, where he founded a sect characterized by common beliefs and observances. These included prescriptive rules (such as a ban on the eating of beans and certain meats), the preservation and pursuit of esoteric knowledge, and reverence for the founder himself. Modern scepticism about the alleged political, philo- sophical, mathematical, and scientific achievements of Pythagoras is mostly justifiable. The earliest sources pre- sent him primarily as a magician claiming ‘occult’ or mys- tical experiences like those of a Siberian shaman. On this basis he asserted ‘metempsychosis’, a doctrine of repeated incarnations of souls, with punishments and rewards for behaviour in previous lives. Apart from this, no definite meaning attaches to the term ‘(early) Pythagorean’. The original society did not last long, but throughout the fifth century bc (and even after) various theorists in the western Greek world were called ‘Pythagoreans’. Many of these were interested in mathematics and astronomy, and their cosmic or occult significance; the interest may go back to Pythagoras him- self. Some apparently attempted to reduce all knowledge to mathematics (using such identifications as ‘Justice is the number 4’). Systematic dualism of associated polarities (right = male = good, left = female = bad, etc.) is also attested. Pythagorean influence, in this wider sense, appears in Parmenides and Empedocles, and later in Plato and the Neoplatonists. e.l.h. *Pythagoreanism. W. Burkert, Lore and Science in Early Pythagoreanism, tr. E. L. Minar (Cambridge, Mass., 1972). Pythagoreanism. Way of life and doctrines attributed to Pythagoras. There were proponents of Pythagoreanism for at least eight centuries from Pythagoras’ day, but there was no persisting core of Pythagorean doctrines. From the fourth century bc onwards, teachings from other schools were borrowed and regularly attributed to Pythagoras himself. This, together with our lack of early writings, makes it hard to discover the original nature of the school. There was, reportedly, an early split between those for whom Pythagoreanism was a way of life, something like a religion, and those for whom it was a body of scientific, mathematical, and philosophical teaching. The ethical and religious teachings were broadly puritanical, often bizarre, and of little philosophical interest. Pythagorean contribu- tions to geometry were reputedly great, but their extent is uncertain. Aristotle records some of the philosophical doctrines, notably that numbers are ‘the first things in the Pythagoreanism 773 whole of nature’, and that ‘the elements of numbers are the elements of all things’. Pythagoreans knew that concord- ant musical intervals (octave, fourth, and fifth) could be expressed by arithmetical ratios. This may have led them to believe that the universe as a whole could be explained and understood in mathematical terms—an idea that has since proved remarkably fruitful. But Aristotle understood their theory as confused: they represented things as composed of numbers, and failed to ‘separate’ the numbers from the things numbered. Aristotle may be right about the crudeness of early Pythagorean thought. But there is earlier evidence of some subtlety of argument. Philolaus (born c.470 bc) was the first to write down Pythagorean doctrines, and a few fragments of his work survive. Among his conclusions are that the ‘being’ of things is eternal, and ‘admits of divine, but not human, knowledge’; and that ‘all the things that are known have number’. Evidently he held that human knowledge was possible only of things that can be numbered. His reason- ing seems to be this. Anything that can be known must have limits (spatial or temporal) to distinguish it from everything else. But things thus distinguishable from one another may be counted. The universe as we know it, then, must consist of things that can be counted. He also argued that the universe must contain ‘limiting things’ and ‘unlimited things’, united by ‘harmony’. Perhaps he thought that only if things of one sort had imposed limits on things of the other could there be ‘things with limits’ (and hence knowable things). But his words are obscure and their interpretation disputed. Some early Pythagoreans believed that the soul was an ‘attunement’, like that of a lyre. This suggests that to have a soul is to have one’s bodily components related to one another in a certain (mathematically expressible) way. This, however, seems inconsistent with the well-attested Pythagorean belief in reincarnation. Plato’s successors attributed much of his thought to Pythagoras. No doubt Plato was influenced by Pythagor- eans, for example, in his views on immortality in the Phaedo and his exercise in mathematical cosmology in Timaeus, but his philosophical debt was probably small. After Plato, ‘Pythagoreanism’ became in effect a brand of Platonism, with emphasis on number theory and the more mystical aspects of his thought. In the first century bc there was a revival of the school (often called neo-Pythagoreanism), from which many writings survive. These contain a medley of teachings from various schools. What marks them as Pythagorean is their religious rather than their philosophical content: miracle stories, a reverence for numbers and concern with an ascetic way of living. Pythagoreanism influenced the development of *Neo- platonism, and in writers such as Iamblichus (c.ad 300) the two schools became indistinguishable. r.j.h. W. Burkert, Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism (Cam- bridge, Mass., 1972). W. K. C. Guthrie, A History of Greek Philosophy, i (Cambridge, 1967), 146–340. H. Thesleff, An Introduction to Pythagorean Writings of the Hellenistic Period (Åbo, 1965). 774 Pythagoreanism qualia. The subjective qualities of conscious experience (plural of the Latin singular quale, ‘of what kind’). Examples are the way sugar tastes, the way vermilion looks, the way coffee smells, the way a cat’s purr sounds, the way it feels to stub your toe. Accounting for these features of mental states has been one of the biggest obstacles to materialist solutions to the mind–body problem, because it seems impossible to analyse the subjective character of these phenomena, which are comprehensible only from the point of view of certain types of conscious being, in objective physical terms which are comprehensible to any rational individual independ- ently of his particular sensory faculties. t.n. *subjectivity; consciousness, its irreducibility. T. Nagel, ‘What Is It Like to Be a Bat?’, Philosophical Review (1974). qualities. In ‘Napoleon had all the qualities of a great gen- eral’ we could, in everyday usage, substitute ‘features’, ‘properties’, ‘traits’, ‘characteristics’, ‘attributes’, and some other terms, for ‘qualities’. Aristotle included ‘qual- ity’ in his list of ‘categories’ of the various possible kinds of objects of thought. He said ‘By “quality” I mean that in virtue of which people are said to be such and such.’ How- ever, he goes on to discuss qualities of things other than people, such as the sweetness of honey. A quality is something which can be possessed, as, for example, Napoleon possessed the quality of courage. Qualities can also be attributed, as the quality of courage was just attributed to Napoleon. Furthermore, the same quality may be possessed by more than one thing, as, for example, Alexander possessed courage just as Napoleon did, and in a very different way from the common posses- sion of a yacht by joint owners or of a spouse by polyg- amists. And a quality can be attributed to a number of things, truly or falsely. These qualities of qualities, their possessability by, and attributability to, numbers of things, have made them puzzling to many philosophers, who find it peculiar that there should be things with those qualities. One source of puzzlement seems to arise from finding it incredible that one and the same thing could be understood and attrib- uted by several different minds and also possessed by or ‘in’ several different things. Locke says ‘a snowball having the power to produce in us the ideas of white cold and round,—the power to produce those ideas in us, as they are in the snowball, I call qualities; and as they are sensa- tions or perceptions in our understandings, I call them ideas’. Jonathan Bennett points out that the interpretation of the pronoun ‘they’ in this passage, as referring back either (ungrammatically) to ‘power’ or to ‘ideas’ raises problems. The quality, say round, is both identified with the idea round, and distinguished from it. Locke then goes on to speak of a subclass of ‘qualities which . . . are nothing in the objects themselves, but pow- ers to produce sensations in us’ as ‘secondary qualities’. Secondary qualities, then, are qualities which are ‘nothing but’ qualities. ‘Primary’ qualities of a body, by contrast, have further qualities such as being ‘utterly inseparable from the body’. It was held further that the idea of a *pri- mary quality resembles the quality, while the idea of a sec- ondary quality does not. These distinctions, or attempts at them, make verifica- tionism about qualities hard to resist, since the notion of an undetectable quality is hard to square with the quality of being a power to produce an idea. If we say that the idea produced needn’t convey any idea of the quality, then Locke’s project of explaining how we understand qualities in order to attribute them is undermined. This problem as to how the idea points to the quality also arises in connec- tion with what Locke calls a ‘third sort’ of qualities, which are powers in one object to produce powers in another which then reach us. For example, a quality in the sun causes the mercury to rise in a thermometer. A primitive man may get from the thermometer the idea of a red col- umn rising, but with no idea at all of the sun’s role. The view that it is an essential quality of a quality that it produce some distinctive sort of idea in us ought to be given up. It may be true of sensory qualities, such as red, or cold have been held to be, though even that is interest- ingly controversial. j.c. *properties; properties, individual; universal. Aristotle, Categories. Jonathan Bennett, Locke, Berkeley, Hume: Central Themes (Oxford, 1971), 27–8. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ii. viii. quality of life (QOL) in a population is often defined in terms of social indicators such as nutrition, air quality, Q incidence of disease, crime rates, health care, educational services, divorce rates, etc. The difficulty is in knowing how to weigh these factors. Is clean drinking-water more or less important than good schools? Should a high divorce rate be counted negatively? One way of achieving a unified index would be to define QOL as a subjective measure of per- ceived satisfaction or dissatisfaction, summed over a mem- bers of the population. But it is possible to conceive of circumstances in which perceived satisfaction could vary quite independently of what we regard as QOL. Even Ivan Denisovitch, in his Siberian labour camp, went to bed a ‘sat- isfied’ man. A third alternative is to define QOL in terms not of perceived happiness but of the availability of happiness requirements: what human beings need in order to be happy. If requirements such as Maslow’s need hierarchy can be found which are universal rather than idiosyncratic, an objective definition of QOL is possible. s.m cc. *well-being. S. McCall, ‘Quality of Life’, Social Indicators Research (1975). A. H. Maslow, Motivation and Personality (New York, 1954). M. Nussbaum and A. Sen (eds.), The Quality of Life (Oxford, 1993). quantification. The application of quantifiers (for example: ‘all’, ‘some’, ‘a few’, ‘more than half ’). In predicate logic, the prefacing of a sentence by either the universal quantifier ( ∀x), ‘For any x’, or the existential quantifier ( ∃x), ‘There exists at least one x such that’. Quantification turns a sentence with free variables into a sentence with bound variables, for example: Fx, ‘Something is F’, into ( ∃x) Fx, ‘There exists at least one x that is F’. The propriety of the universal and existential quantifiers is not beyond philosophical question. The use of the universal quantifier assimilates ‘all’, ‘any’, and ‘every’, which are arguably dis- tinct concepts. The use of the existential quantifier enshrines formally the doctrine that ‘exists’ is not a first- order predicate, but ‘exists’ might be some kind of first- order predicate. s.p. Martin Davies, Meaning, Quantification, Necessity: Themes in Philo- sophical Logic (London, 1981). Mark Sainsbury, Logical Forms (Oxford, 1991), ch. 4. quantifier. A logical symbol used to do roughly the same work as ‘every’ or ‘some’. The word ‘quantifier’, which stems from the logicians’ sense of *‘quantity’, was first used by Peirce in 1883, but the idea is present in Frege’s Begriffsschrift (1879). Combined with *variables, quanti- fiers provide an adequate symbolism for representing rela- tional propositions involving both the universal ( ∀, read ‘for every’), and the existential ( ∃, read ‘for some’), quanti- fier: ‘Someone is loved by everybody’, can mean either ‘ ∀x∃y(y is loved by x)’ or ‘∃x∀y(x is loved by y)’. *Ambigu- ity is thus avoided by quantifier notation. Quine chris- tened two interpretations of the quantifiers ‘objectual’ and ‘substitutional’, respectively. The first gives the *truth-condition for, for example, ‘ ∃x(x is heavy)’ as ‘“x is heavy” is satisfied by some object’, the second as ‘Some sentence of the form “x is heavy” is true’. c.j.f.w. C. J. F. Williams, What is Existence? (Oxford, 1981), chs. 6–8. quantity and quality. From at least the thirteenth century onwards, that a proposition is *universal (‘All S are P’ and ‘No S are P’) or *particular (‘Some S are P’ and ‘Some S are not P’) was called its quantity; and that it is affirmative (‘All S are P’ and ‘Some S are P’) or negative (‘No S are P’ and ‘Some S are not P’) was traditionally called its quality. c.w. *logic, traditional. I. M. Bochenski, A History of Formal Logic, tr. and ed. I. Thomas (Indiana, 1961), 210–11. quantum logic. Originating with von Neumann and Birk- hoff in the mid-1930s, the name ‘quantum logic’ denotes an intepretation of quantum experimental results by means of a non-Boolean lattice. According to some critics, the name is misleading. They see von Neumann and Birk- hoff as having shown that the mathematics, not the logic, of the quantum realm has this non-classical character. More generally, the idea of a quantum logic has both a negative and a positive part. Negatively, it is the thesis that classical, e.g. first-order, formalization of quantum physics is one in which certain principles of logic cease to be valid. More particularly, classical laws of logic, such as distributivity, fail under any formalization in which atomic formulae of quantum physics are formalized as truth-functionally atomic formulae of classical logic and, likewise, if the quantum ‘connectives’ of meet and join are construed truth-functionally. Further factors that impede classical formalization include the apparent failure of quantum objects to be well individuated and the inher- ently probabilistic character of quantum claims. The posi- tive part of the quantum logic thesis requires the specification of a suitably non-classical logic to fit the quantum realm. There is as yet no settled consensus among those who favour the idea. For those who don’t, a purpose-built logic for quantum physics has no more rationale than a purpose-built logic for household eco- nomics. This scepticism may be influenced by the thought that, from the fact that quantum mechanics lacks an adequate formalization in classical logic, it hardly follows that there must be some other non-classical logic in which the formalization succeeds. j.woo. M. Dalla Chiaro and Roberto Giuntini, ‘Quantum Logics’ in D. M. Gabbay and F. Guenthner (eds.), vol. 6 of Handbook of Philosophical Logic, 2nd edn. (Dordrecht, 2000). quantum mechanics, philosophical problems of. These concern how best to interpret the theory, and are still being pursued, as in the famous Bohr–Einstein debates in the 1930s, through the use of various ‘thought’ experi- ments designed to play off one interpretation against another. The problems still receiving most attention, first raised in classic 1935 papers by Einstein and Schrödinger, are the question whether quantum mechanics is a com- plete theory—does it ‘say all there is to say’ about physical reality?—and the measurement problem, or the paradox of Schrödinger’s *cat. 776 quality of life Both problems arise in response to the superposition principle in quantum mechanics, which is what distin- guishes the theory most from Newtonian mechanics. This principle says that if a physical magnitude M is assigned a definite value m 1 when a quantum system is in state ψ 1 , and similarly if the (distinct) value m 2 is assigned by the state ψ 2 to the system, then there are also states of the system achieved by combining ψ 1 and ψ 2 in which M has no def- inite value whatsoever! To see the peculiarity of the situ- ation, just let M be position and m 1 be ‘the particle is here’ while m 2 is ‘the particle is over there’. The way in which ψ 1 and ψ 2 are combined, or superposed, determines the respective probabilities that a *measurement of M will be found to yield m 1 or m 2 . And this superposition of states extends to composite systems: two particles can be in limbo between, say, both having value m 1 and both m 2 , with equal probabilities of finding them with either combination. The completeness problem starts from the worry that superpositions might not really indicate that magnitudes fail to have definite values, but just that quantum mechan- ics is not able to tell us what the true values are and so resorts to predicting only what values we would probably find if we looked. In fact Einstein (with his collaborators Podolsky and Rosen) argued that quantum predictions themselves give reasons for thinking this. Consider a pair of widely separated particles emitted from a source in opposite directions in a superposed state like the one men- tioned at the end of the last paragraph. Since there are only two possibilities—that both particles will be found to have value m 1 or both m 2 —and they have equal probability, once we have measured the M-value of one of the par- ticles, say particle A, we can predict with certainty the M-value of particle B (since it must be the same). Now surely such a prediction gives us good reason to attribute a definite M-value to B (whether it turns out to be m 1 or m 2 ). And surely the A measurement could not bring that value into existence, since it would be performed at great dis- tance from particle B, and so could not affect it without influences travelling faster than light. Thus B must actu- ally have had a definite M-value all along, despite the fact that it started out locked in a superposition with A! Tantalizing though this argument is, it is not sound. For in 1964 Bell cleverly showed that, even if we accept its conclusion of incompleteness, we must still invoke some sort of faster-than-light influence to reproduce the quan- tum predictions—so, in this context, the completeness issue turns out to be a red herring! But this pushes us to still other problems, such as whether the required faster- than-light influences are truly causal influences, and whether they can be tolerated by relativity theory (even given that we know they cannot be exploited to transmit a signal faster than light). The debate continues to rage. The other main problem raised by superpositions per- tains to measurement. We may be happy with indefinite- ness of values as long as it is consigned to the micro-realm; but there is as yet no principled way in quantum mechan- ics to prevent it from infecting the everyday world of macroscopic objects, like tables and chairs. Suppose we set up a device whereby if a radioactive atom decays it sets off a chain reaction terminating in the death of a cat, whereas if it does not decay the cat lives—so the cat’s state of being functions as our device for measuring the state of the atom. The law governing the time evolution of quantum states then requires that when the atom evolves into a superposition of ‘decayed’ and ‘not decayed’ it drags the cat’s state with it, and together they end up in limbo between ‘decayed–dead’ and ‘not decayed–alive’. Not only do we not get an answer from our (now admittedly perverse) measurement of whether the atom has in fact decayed, but we are left saying that much-cherished prop- erties of everyday macroscopic beings do not exist! There is of course no problem here if quantum mechanics is incomplete. But those who think otherwise have been hard pressed to resolve the problem. Some say quantum evolution somehow gets temporarily sus- pended so that any unwanted superposition between macroscopically distinguishable states ‘collapses’ into one or the other of its components ψ 1 and ψ 2 ; others search for a precise mechanism for this collapse, which only operates when systems are sufficiently macroscopic; and still others refuse to acknowledge the problem by arguing that the difference between the collapsed and uncollapsed state of a macroscopic object is so difficult to detect experimen- tally that ‘for all practical purposes’ we can live with the superpositions the theory predicts. This list in no way exhausts the avenues that have been pursued, and none has yet come out on top. The two problems outlined above are far from being the only ones; perhaps they are not even the most inter- esting. But others peculiar to relativistic quantum mechanics and quantum field theory (like problems to do with particle localization and identity), though increas- ingly being addressed by philosophers, would involve too much mathematics to elaborate here. r.cli. *determinism, scientific. D. Z. Albert, Quantum Mechanics and Experience (Cambridge, Mass., 1992). J. S. Bell, Speakable and Unspeakable in Quantum Mechanics (Cam- bridge, 1987). J. T. Cushing and E. McMullin (eds.), Philosophical Consequences of Quantum Theory (Notre Dame, Ind., 1989). quantum theory and philosophy. The philosophical issues raised by quantum theory are largely dependent upon how *quantum mechanics is interpreted in order to minimize the philosophical problems that arise within the theory, which is a matter of ongoing controversy. 1. The fact that there are mutually incompatible quan- tum theories, each with a claim to being empirically adequate, presents difficulties for realist interpretations of quantum mechanics which maintain that theoretical terms refer to objectively existing features of the world. Which theory is the correct one? Since empirical adequacy rules out an experimental basis for this choice, it has been suggested that *anti-realism or *instrumentalism about quantum theory and philosophy 777 quantum entities or laws should be adopted, a view which may find application in other areas of science. 2. Quantum theory is often presumed to provide a strong counter-example to the truth of *determinism. The loca- tion of an electron (say) can best be described in terms of the probability of its being found at a particular location, the shape and evolution of such probabilities, known as wave-functions, being governed by the Schrödinger equa- tion. However, if a measurement of location is made, we do not observe the electron to be in a superposition of pos- sible states: the electron will be found at a particular loca- tion, and it is no longer possible for it to be anywhere else. Thus, von Neumann postulated that Schrödinger evolu- tion is interrupted and the wave-function ‘collapses’, it is discontinuously and indeterministically reduced to a par- ticle-like state. The postulated collapse of the wave-function is more problematic for determinism than Schrödinger evolution, since according to the latter, the state of a system is uniquely determined by any earlier state. But, even if indeterministic collapse can be avoided, this provides little comfort to a strong determinist, since construing Schrödinger evolution realistically involves accepting that the fundamental *ontology of the world is irreducibly probabilistic. The determinist has two main options: to regard the statistical element of quantum mechanics as epistemic, a sign that the theory is incomplete, in the hope that probability will be eliminated on discovery of a hith- erto hidden variable; or to adopt an instrumentalist or anti-realist stance towards the entities and processes the theory describes. According to one such approach, the ‘Copenhagen interpretation’, which is perhaps the cur- rent orthodoxy in physics, we need not understand the superposition of probable states that the Schrödinger equation describes as assigning mutually incompatible properties to the same entity, if observables, such as loca- tion or momentum, exist only when a measurement is being taken. Thus, the determinist might argue, the wave- function and its collapse are not objective features of causal reality, and so are not genuine instances of ‘effects’ which lack deterministic causal antecedents. 3. Quantum theory conflicts with intuitions about *causality. The *Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen paradox presents a dilemma for quantum theory: either it is incom- plete, or the presumption of the spatio-temporal locality of physical interactions—the impossibility of *action at a dis- tance—fails. However *Bell’s theorem, in so far as his inequalities have been empirically shown to be false, shows that any hidden variable theory would also violate locality (or another of Bell’s assumptions). 4. Supporters of ‘many-worlds’ interpretations of quan- tum mechanics avoid both the indeterministic collapse of the wave-function and action at a distance by maintaining that each time a quantum experiment is performed with different outcomes of non-zero probability, all outcomes obtain, each in a different world. Hence the universe (everything that exists) incorporates many worlds, where a world is understood as a totality of classically defined macroscopic objects which are perceived by a conscious observer as being in a definite state—a *cat is never both alive and dead—and excludes microscopic entities which might be in superposition, which explains why we do not experience superpositions. The postulation of the exist- ence of many worlds has been compared to *Lewis’s modal realism—the metaphysical claim that *possible worlds exist in the same sense as the actual one—and has sometimes been taken to offer empirical support for it. However, the many-worlds hypothesis currently lacks empirical confirmation, and there is doubt whether such confirmation is possible in principle. It also postulates far fewer worlds than Lewis, who maintains that every logic- ally possible world exists. 5. The peculiarities of quantum theory, or some exten- sion of it, are also invoked to provide accounts of *mind, specifically to explain *consciousness, because quantum events are causally relevant to the working of the brain, or cognitive processes can be modelled in terms of quantum computation. Such approaches are hindered, however, both by the lack of consensus about the interpretation of quantum theory and by the absence of empirical evidence that quantum-theoretic phenomena are relevant to the explanation of the mind. s.r.a. *Bell’s theorem; field theory; quantum logic. John Gribbin, Schrödinger’s Kittens and the Search for Reality (Lon- don, 1995). Michael Lockwood, Mind, Brain and Quantum: The Compound ‘I’ (Oxford, 1989). Christopher Norris, Quantum Theory and the Flight from Realism: Philosophical Responses to Quantum Mechanics (London, 2002). Henry P. Stapp, Mind, Matter and Quantum Mechanics (New York, 1993). quasi-memory. An artificial *memory concept, so defined that the quasi-rememberer need not have been the person involved in the original event. X quasi-remembers E if and only if E occurred, X apparently recalls something E-like, and the apparent recalling causally depends on the occur- rence E in an appropriate way. This does not require that X witnessed E. The point is to avoid circularity objections to psychological analyses of *personal identity. p.f.s. S. Shoemaker, ‘Persons and their Pasts’, American Philosophical Quarterly (1970). quasi-realism is a modern label for a position similar to Hume’s in which, although judgements have in fact no independent object, they nevertheless behave from the perspective of the judger as if they did. More specifically, it is the name of a research programme in which, without supposing an independent reality for a set of judgements to be about, an attempt is made to explain and capture the same inferential relations between these judgements as they would have if they did have such independent truth- values. r.h. 778 quantum theory and philosophy *moral realism. Simon Blackburn, Essays in Quasi-Realism (Oxford, 1993). quasi-virtue: see shame. quiddity. Historically meaning ‘essence’, ‘quiddity’ has come to denote the unique nature, or ‘whatness’, of a property. According to ‘quidditism’ each property has its own quiddity that distinguishes it from every other prop- erty. So two properties may be indiscernible (have the same individuals falling under them and the same higher- order properties holding over them) but nevertheless dis- tinct (fail to be identical) because their quiddities differ. The rejection of quidditism is therefore equivalent to the acceptance of the *identity of indiscernibles applied to the case of properties. f.m acb. *identity of indiscernibles; haecceity. Robert Black, ‘Against Quidditism’, Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 78 (2000). quietism, philosophical. The view, associated with the later Wittgenstein, that philosophy should not aspire to produce substantive theories (e.g. of the nature of mean- ing, the foundations of knowledge, or of the mind’s place in the world), adjudicate disputes in science or mathemat- ics, make discoveries, or dictate how language should be used. Philosophy’s proper role is therapeutic rather than constructive: the philosopher diagnoses conceptual con- fusions. Although the results of such therapy can be pro- foundly liberating, philosophy does not itself advance human knowledge, but ‘leaves everything as it is’. d.bak. P. M. S. Hacker, ‘Philosophy’, in Hans-Johann Glock (ed.), Wittgenstein: A Critical Reader (Oxford, 2001). Quine, Willard Van Orman (1908–2000). Probably the most important American philosopher since the war, Quine spent his career at Harvard University. His exten- sive writings have shaped the development of recent phil- osophy, particularly in logic, the philosophy of language, epistemology, and metaphysics. After completing his doc- torate, he visited the Vienna Circle, coming under the influence of Rudolf Carnap. Although critical of its funda- mental doctrines, Quine remained true to the underlying spirit of *Logical Positivism. He shared its commitment to *empiricism and to the belief that philosophy should be pursued as part of science. The papers published in From a Logical Point of View (1953) defended views about language and ontology, chal- lenging the assumptions of the prevailing orthodoxy. After 1960, with the publication of Word and Object, Quine emphasized his *naturalism, the doctrine that philosophy should be pursued as part of natural science. Pursuit of Truth (1990) is a clear, concise formulation of his philo- sophical position. Most modern empiricists had held that the meanings of everyday and scientific propositions determine which experiences count as evidence for or against them: there are *analytic truths (truths which hold by virtue of meanings) which record these links with experience and guide us in forming our opinions. ‘Two Dogmas of Empiricism’ (1953) rejected this picture: experience counts for or against our entire body of beliefs in a holistic manner, and little that is systematic can be said about the meanings of particular sentences. The analytic– synthetic distinction is to be abandoned, and with it the idea that mathematics and logic have a status radically dis- tinct from that of empirical science: ‘Any statement can be held true come what may, if we make drastic enough adjustments elsewhere in the system.’ We can even retain an ordinary belief about our surroundings in the face of contrary experience ‘by pleading hallucination or by amending certain statements of the kind called logical laws’ (p. 43). In Word and Object, this denial that anything systematic can be said about the meanings of particular sentences leads to Quine’s most famous doctrine, the *indeter- minacy of translation. We undertake ‘radical translation’ when we attempt to translate a previously unknown lan- guage, relying only on information about the evidence that native speakers take to be relevant to the truth or fal- sity of their utterances. Quine argued that many alterna- tive translation manuals will always fit the evidence, there being no fact of the matter which is correct. There are no objective facts about which words and sentences have the same *meanings. Among the consequences of these views about mean- ing is a deep scepticism about the possibility of *modal logic, and the doctrine of ontological relativity. The ontol- ogy of a theory is the range of objects that must exist if the theory is true; Quine holds that we can state the ontology of a theory only relative to a translation manual and a background language. There is no non-relative fact of the matter what the ontology of a theory is; or indeed what the ontology of any theorist is. Quine’s own ontological taste is for *physicalism: the physical facts are all the facts, all changes in the world involving physical changes. And this helps to support his philosophical naturalism. The philosophical study of knowledge, for example, is a branch of natural science, drawing on psychology to explain how sensory stimula- tion gives rise to scientific beliefs. Controversy has sur- rounded the claim of naturalized epistemology that our philosophical needs are met by such a study: some have objected that it changes the subject by failing to address *scepticism directly, or by focusing on how we do form our opinions rather than on normative questions of how we ought to assess them. c.j.h. *contextual definition; indeterminacy of meaning; American philosophy, today. W. V. Quine, From a Logical Point of View (Cambridge, Mass., 1953). —— Word and Object (Cambridge, Mass., 1960). —— Pursuit of Truth (Cambridge, Mass., 1990). R. Gibson (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Quine (Cambridge, 2004). Quine, Willard Van Orman 779 . state the ontology of a theory only relative to a translation manual and a background language. There is no non-relative fact of the matter what the ontology of a theory is; or indeed what the ontology. one object to produce powers in another which then reach us. For example, a quality in the sun causes the mercury to rise in a thermometer. A primitive man may get from the thermometer the idea. influences, and whether they can be tolerated by relativity theory (even given that we know they cannot be exploited to transmit a signal faster than light). The debate continues to rage. The other main