Charlie Dunbar Broad (1887–1971) was an English philosopher whofor the most part of his life was associated with Trinity College,Cambridge. Broad’s early interests were in science andmathematics. Despite being successful in these he came to believe thathe would never be a first-rate scientist, and turned to philosophy.Broad’s interests were exceptionally wide-ranging. He devotedhis philosophical acuity to the mind-body problem, the nature ofperception, memory, introspection, and the unconscious, to the natureof space, time and causation. He also wrote extensively on thephilosophy of probability and induction, ethics, the history ofphilosophy and the philosophy of religion. The ample scope and scaleof Broad’s work is impressive. In addition he nourished aninterest in parapsychology—a subject he approached with thedisinterested curiosity and scrupulous care that is characteristic ofhis philosophical work.
Broad did not have “a philosophy”—if by that phraseis meant highly original philosophical theories, and a highly originalway of approaching philosophical problems. He writes: “I havenothing worth calling a system of philosophy of my own, and there isno philosopher of whom I should be willing to reckon myself a faithfulfollower” (1924, p. 77). The reader is nonetheless likely toreap philosophical insights from Broad’s manner of meticulouslysetting out and carefully assessing the theories thatprimafacie provide solutions to a given philosophical problem. Thisfeature of his writings is aptly described by A. J. Ayer: “Thesubject is discussed from every angle, the various possibilitiesjudiciously set out, the precedents cited, the fallacious argumentsexposed: nothing is skimped: looking for reason, we are not fobbed offwith rhetoric” (Part of my Life, 1977, pp.117–8). Broad combines fairness, astuteness as well as rarepowers of observation.
Philosophers who influenced Broad were (apart from the greatphilosophers of the past) his teachers at Cambridge, Russell andMoore, and J. M. E. McTaggart and W. E. Johnson; at St. Andrew’she received important additional influence from G. F. Stout and A. E.Taylor. The diversity of their thought is mirrored in Broad’sown exceptional range of interests.
Broad led a relatively uneventful life—“not unlike,”he says in his “Autobiography,” “that of a monk in amonastery” (1959b, p. 67). He hadn’t been out of theBritish Isles until 1946 when he visited Sweden—a country he“fell in love with,” and returned to nearly every year. Ona professional level he made acquaintances with several Swedishphilosophers (such as Konrad-Marc Wogau at Uppsala University). In theacademic year 1953–4 Broad visited the University of Michigan atAnn Arbor and the University of California at Los Angeles. He writeswith great warmth of the “kindness and hospitality” withwhich he was received, and adds with characteristic modesty: “Itwas good fun to be treated as a great philosopher” (1959b).Broad was a homosexual, and never married.
Broad dealt with perception in several works. He is well known as anadvocate of The Theory of Representational Realism, according to whichour perceptions areindirect cognitive transactions with theworld: a perceptual experience of a worldly object is not an immediateawareness of the object itself, but mediated by an immediate awarenessof asensum. For example, when we see a coin from a certainangle we are immediately aware of an elliptical sensum.
Broad’s treatment of perception inThe Mind and Its Place inNature sets off with a careful description of Naïve Realism.And this seems a suitable place to begin our exposition of his theoryof perception. What, then, does Naïve Realism say? Topre-philosophical reflection perception seem to provide us with somesort of immediate cognitive contact with a physical object, forexample a bell. Consider a situation where we perceive a bell. Comparethis situation with one where we are merely thinking of a bell. Thereis a deep difference between the situations. We could “vaguelyexpress one part of this difference by saying that in the perceptualsituation we are ‘in more immediate touch with’ the bellthan in the thought-situation” (1925, p. 144).
This rough and ready picture of the Naïve Realist view must,however, be slightly modified. Suppose we visually perceive an apple.Clearly there is a sense in which we do not perceive “all”of the apple. There is a sense in which we are aware of only apart of its surface; and we are (in that sense) aware only ofthe sensible colour of that part but not of its sensible temperature.Thus perception provides us with a cognitive contact a part of theapple, but no more. It is, then, strictly speaking only a part of theapple with which we areacquainted; it is only a part of theapple that issensuously manifested to us. (1925, pp.148–50.)
Broad does not equate or identify the perception of a worldly objectwith the sort of immediate acquainting awareness we have (or seem tohave) with its facing surface (pace Chisholm, 1957, p. 154).He is, on the contrary, careful to point out that the experiencefeatures more than this awareness: it also has anintentionalcontent. Broad designates this theexternal reference ofthe experience. By virtue of its external reference the experience ofthe apple represents the sensuously manifested constituent as anintegral part of a larger spatio-temporal whole, having a whole arrayof properties not sensuously manifested to us. (1925, pp.150–4.)
What is the nature of the external reference? Broad warns against therisk of unduly “intellectualising” perception. Theexternal reference is not reached byinference from what issensuously manifested; nor is it abelief orjudgement simply accompanying the awareness of the manifestedconstituent: “At the purely perceptual level, people do not havethe special experience called ‘belief’ or‘judgment’” (1925, p. 153).[1]
When we visually perceive the apple we have an experience in which itsfacing red surface is a sensuously manifested objective constituent;we perceive the apple but are, strictly speaking, only acquainted witha portion of it.[2] Broad sometimes prefers to say that weprehend the facingsurface (or ostensibly prehend the surface). Now the notion ofprehension is fundamental for an understanding of Naïve Realismas well as Representational Realism, so it seems advisable to brieflytake a somewhat closer look on Broad’s account of it.
Broad does not think it is possible to give a strict definition ofphrases such as “S prehendsx as red” orthe equivalent phrase “x sensibly presents itself toS as red”.[3] What one can do is to contrast the notion of prehension with othernotions: “The meaning of these phrases cannot be defined, it canonly be exemplified. One thing that is certain is that to prehendx as red is utterly different fromjudging that itis red orknowing that it is red” (1952a, p. 13;italics in original). For example, in the dark and with my eyes shut Imay very well judge (or know) that the apple is red. But in suchconditions I am “not prehending anything as red, or, what isprecisely equivalent, nothing is sensibly presented to me asred” (ibid, p. 14). Broad notes that this issubstantiated by the fact that a cat or a dog that lacked conceptsmight, it seems, have a prehension of something as red even though itcannot (lacking the requisite concepts) literally know or judge thatit is red.
Prehension is, however, intimately related to knowledge. Broad asks usto consider a subject “which has appropriate general conceptsand is capable of making judgements and knowing facts”. Supposethis subject prehends a certain particular object as red. Then this“suffices to enable him toknow the fact that it isred. Whether he does or does notactually contemplate thisfact at the time depends on various contingent circumstances”(1952a, p. 14; Broad’s emphasis).[4]
Naïve Realism, properly articulated, says that when we perceive aphysical object it is only a part of the apple that is sensuouslymanifested to us: this, and only this, is an objective constituent inthe perceptual situation. Now can this view be defended? Broad doesnot think so. He levels several arguments against Naïve Realism,two of which will receive attention here.
TheArgument from Hallucination. Consider averidical perception and compare it with a subjectivelyindistinguishable delusive or hallucinatory perception, for examplethat of a drunkard hallucinating a pink rat. Neither a pink rat nor apart of a pink rat could be a sensuously manifested constituent in thedelusive situation.
And, since there is no relevant internal difference between theveridical and the delusive perceptual situation, it is reasonable tosuppose that inno case does a perceptual situation containas a constituent the physical object which corresponds to itsepistemological object, even when there is such a physical object.(1925, p. 156; italics added.)
It might be held that the subjective indistinguishability of averidical perceptual and a hallucinatory situationentailsthat the experiences have an identical constitution (and that,therefore, no material object is a constituent even in the veridicalsituation). That is, however, not Broad’s position: itcould be that a material objectis an objectivelymanifested constituent in a veridical situation (whilst not in theindistinguishable hallucinatory situation). He holds, however, thatthat is not the more reasonable view of the matter.
The Argument from Illusion. Consider a person perceiving apenny from a series of slightly different angles and distances. Hewould unhesitatingly assume that in each of the slightly differingperceptual situations the facing brownish surface of a certain pennyis sensuously manifested to him. But in Broad’s view this couldnot be so: “If he carefully inspects the objective constituentsof these perceptual situations he will certainly find that they seemto be of different shapes and sizes” (1925, p. 158). Theobjective constituent will in most of the situations seemelliptical rather than circular. This indicates, Broadclaims, that in each perceptual situation, the constituent—thesensuously manifested item—cannot be the top of the penny. Whathappens is that instead of being immediately aware of the circularsurface of the penny (as he takes himself to be) he is immediatelyaware of an elliptical item, an elliptical sensum. Hence it is anelliptical sensum rather than the circular surface of the penny thatis manifested to the subject. The same holdsmutatis mutandiswhen we perceive a white sheet of paper dimly lit by a candle. Oncareful consideration it seems clear that the paper looks yellowish tous. So what we are immediately aware of is a yellowish sensum ratherthan the white sheet of paper we are looking at.
In order to bring out at least some of the facets of Broad’stheory it seems advisable to turn to a few of the many objections thathave been raised against it.
(1) It has sometimes been objected that the argument from illusion isflawed from the start since there is usually no risk of anyone beingtaken in by the situation. Broad’s response to this objection isclear. When we look at the penny from an oblique angle it appearselliptical, butnot in the sense that anyone is taking in bythe situation, and mistakenly comes to believe or judge that the pennyis elliptical. He is explicit on the point: “‘lookingelliptical to me’ stands for a peculiar experience, which,whatever the right analysis of it may be, is not just a mistakenjudgement about the shape” (1923, p. 237). The pennysensibly appears elliptical. And it is this rather than anysupposed tendency to be deceived which creates problem for NaïveRealism (pace Austin 1962, p. 26).
(2) It has often been objected that philosophers who have made use ofthe argument from illusion that they neglect the fact ofperceptual constancy. In his later works Broad admits thatthis complaint is justified. However, the “recognition of thephenomenon of constancy merely shifts the point of application of theargument” (1947b, p. 112). There is a class of perceptualexperiences of a material object,X, where constancy holds;there is also a class of experiences ofX where constancybreaks down. In theory it is logically possible to hold that thefacing surface ofX is sensuously presented in the perceptualexperiences belonging to the first class but not in the experiencesbelonging to the second class. “But, in view of the continuitybetween the most normal and the most abnormal cases of seeing, such adoctrine would be utterly implausible and could be defended only bythe most desperate special pleading” (1952a, p. 9).
What I just said might create the impression that Broad’sphenomenology is rather unsophisticated or crude. On the whole that iscertainly not the case. For example, he points out that “thevisual field” is three-dimensional: “A sphere doeslook different from a circle, just as a circle looksdifferent from an ellipse” (1923, p. 290; Broad’semphasis). And the same holds,mutatis mutandis, for theintimately related characteristics distance and depth; these are alsopurely visual characteristics of the visual field (pp. 295–300).[5]
(The constancy objection to any argument of illusion that appeals tocases such as the penny seen obliquely is a compelling one, to say theleast. In spite of that I will, for convenience of exposition,occasionally make use of the example below.)
(3) A stock objection to sense-data theories has been that they invitescepticism with regard to the external world. Broad regrets thesceptical consequences but—given the strength of the case forthe sense-datum theory—does not consider them sufficient groundsfor dismissal. Seeking to preserve as much as possible of the commonsense notion of material objects he argues for the existence of suchobjects conceived of as having “primary qualities” such asshape, size, and position (apart from such properties as electriccharge and mass). (1925, pp. 195–204.) Not surprisingly, herejects the idea that material objects have “secondaryproperties” such as (phenomenal) redness or (phenomenal)hotness. Broad is perfectly clear that it does notfollowfrom the fact that such properties are never sensuously manifested inour perceptual experiences that the material objects causing ourexperiences lack these properties: it does remain possible that thereare red and green, hot and cold material objects even though they arenot objects of acquaintance. He argues, however, that there is noreason to believe that material objects have these properties. (1925,pp. 205–6.)
Now Broad is perfectly clear that the sensum analysis of perceptioncannot be established simply by pointing to such phenomena as thepenny seen obliquely. He does not for a moment suppose that it ispossible to logically infer that there is an elliptical sensum fromthe proposition that something sensibly appears elliptical(pace Barnes 1945, p. 113). What he claims is that there areconsiderations that can be adduced in support of the sensum analysis.When we look at the penny from the side we certainlyseem tobe aware of something elliptical. So we certainly seem to have beforeour minds something that is elliptical. Obviously “we can quitewell mistakenlybelieve a property to be present which isreally absent, when we are dealing with something that is only knownto us indirectly, like Julius Cæsar or the North Pole”(1923, p. 241; Broad’s emphasis). But there are phenomenologicaldifferences between perception and belief (or thought) that seem tocall for different accounts of their nature. In perception we seem tobe dealing with properties that are presented to us. Consider the caseof perceiving a stick half immersed in water. Here
we are dealing with a concrete visible object, which is bodily presentto our senses; and it is very hard to understand how we could seem toourselves tosee the property of bentness exhibited in aconcrete instance, if in factnothing was present to ourminds that possessed that property. (1923, p. 241; Broad’semphasis; see also pp. 244–5)
I believe that what Broad is driving at here is that perceptualconsciousness has apresentational nature, and it is thisthat makes it plausible to regard it as involving the literal presenceof objects with various qualities, such as colours in the case ofvisual perception, sounds in auditory, etc.
Broad’s theory of perception employs an act-object analysis ofsensations. Lest it should be thought that he should be incapable tothink of any alternative account it should be noted that he examinessuch an analysis as early as in 1921. G. F. Stout and H. A. Pricharddefended such an alternative (both of whom Broad held in the highestregard). Their account could be considered an early version of theadverbial analysis of sensations. Broad asks us to consider aheadache. “It is by no means clear that a headache means a stateof mind with a headachy object [i.e. an act with a certain object]; itseems on the whole more plausible to say that that it is just aheadachy state of mind” (1921b, p. 392). To have a headache isnot to be aware of a headachy object but to feel in a certain way.[6] The alternative account claims that this holdsmutatismutandis forany type of sensation. Thus what isdescribed as ‘a sensation of red’ is a unitary state ofmind, and strictly speaking not a state which decomposes into an actof sensing and a sensed red patch.
Broad provides a fairly thorough discussion of the relative merits ofthe adverbial and the act-object analysis. In a nutshell, hisconclusion is that although the adverbial analysis is highly plausibleregarding such mental phenomena as bodily feelings; but it isimplausible when it comes to those of visual and auditory experiences:the act-object analysis is the more plausible account of suchexperiences, in Broad’s opinion. (See Broad 1923, pp. 252–7.)[7]
So much for sensations. What aboutsensa? What are they onBroad’s account? A brief answer must suffice here. Sensa are acertain kind of transitory particulars, which in the case of visualperception have such properties as shape, size, colour, etc (1925, p. 181f.).[8]
The position Broad reaches is the following. A perceptual experiencehas a certain intentional content. It differs from thought- andbelief-episodes by including a sensory phase, and it is primarily thisthat is responsible for the distinctive phenomenology of perception.The sensory phase consists of sensations. These decompose into acts ofsensing and object sensed, sensa. A sensum has the phenomenalproperties that the perceived object (sensibly) appears tohave—red or warm or squeaky. An act of sensing a sensumconstitutes an immediate acquainting awareness of the sensum inquestion. Although our perceptual experiencesseem to grantus an acquaintance with the facing surfaces of material objects, sensaare the only items we are acquainted with.
The intentional content—the external reference—of aperceptual experience is in a certain sensebased upon sensa(thoughtnot in the sense that there is a train of swiftinference leading from the presence of a sensum to the mind to acertain perceptual belief). (1923, pp. 246–7.) It is thiscontent which represents the environment as featuring a physicalobject so-and-so. Sensa are clearly incapable of carrying suchcontent. Furthermore, from the very nature of the case the generalnotion of physical object “cannot have been derived byabstraction from observed instances of it, as the notion of‘red’ no doubt has been.”[9] In fact, general concept of a physical object “is not‘got out of’ experience until it has been ‘putinto’ experience. It is best described as an innate principle ofinterpretation which we apply to the data of sense-perception”(1925, p. 217).
It is possible to distinguish roughly three different phases inBroad’s philosophy of time.
In his (1921a) Broad defends a Russellian theory of time. On thisEternalist view past, present, and future are equally real.There is nothing ontologically special about the present: the presentis no more real than the past or the future. Accordingly Broad rejectsPresentism—the view that only the present isreal—as “mere rhetoric rooted in confusion” (1921a,p. 226). Presentism has its roots in two errors. One of these errorsis to equivocate between two different senses of“co-existence”. “In one sense the parts of anyrelated whole co-exist; in another only those events that occupy thesame moment of time co-exist.” The whole course of the historyobviously cannot co-exist in the latter sense, but this does not“prevent it from co-existing in the first”. The othererror is to believe that “past, present, and future areessential characteristics of objects in time in the same way as beforeand after are, instead of being analysable into the temporal relationsof states of mind and their objects” (p. 337). Thus Broadrejects the view that past, present, and future are characteristicspossessed by objects in time. These “characteristics” area mere reflection of our subjective perspective on objects. Some ofour mental states are essentially contemporary orsimultaneous with their objects, e.g. our immediate awarenessof sense data. Other states are essentiallylater than theirobjects, e.g. memories. (Cf. p. 336.) A related, and perhaps moreimportant facet of Broad’s (1921a) position here, is hisadoption of a Russellian analysis of tensed discourse. According tothis analysis—versions of which were later to becomeorthodox—the function of tensed verbs or temporal adjectives intensed statements is performed in the analysans by a tenseless copula,IS, and a temporal relation—earlier than,simultaneous with, orlater than. Thus “It israining” (or “It is raining now”) is unpacked as“It IS raining at a moment simultaneous with my assertion thatit is raining”; “It has rained” (or “It rainedin the past”) is analysed as “It IS raining at a momentearlier than my assertion that it has rained”; “It willrain” (or “It will rain in the future”) is read as“It IS raining at a moment later than my assertion that it willrain”. (Cf. p. 331.)
InScientific Thought (1923) Broad rejects the Eternalism hehad defended in his (1921a) article. He now advances a theory that“accepts the reality of the present and the past, but holds thatthe future is simply nothing at all” (1923, p. 66). Anall-important corollary of thisGrowing Block Theory is thethesis thattemporal passage is a fundamental feature ofreality. This feature is accounted for in terms of what Broad holds isthe most fundamental form of change,becoming. Becoming isthe coming into existence of events.
Nothing has happened to the present by becoming past except that freshslices of existence have been added to the total history of the world.The past is thus as real as the present. On the other hand, theessence of a present event is, not that it precedes future events, butthat there is quite literallynothing to which it has therelation of precedence. The sum total of existence is alwaysincreasing, and it is this which gives the time-series a sense [i.e.direction] as well as an order. A momentt is later than amomentt* if the sum total of existence attincludes the sum total of existencet* together withsomething more. (1923, p. 66–7; Broad’s italics.)
An event ispresent by virtue of being the most recentincrement of reality; when the event is present there is, as Broadsays, nothing to which it stands in the relation of precedence. Theeventbecomes past by virtue of acquiring new relations, andit acquires these relations because the sum total of existence hasbeen increased by the addition of fresh slices of reality. Temporalpassage is the continual growth of the sum total ofexistence.[10]
One of the rivalling views on time Broad discusses is a theory thatmight be labeledThe Moving Spotlight Theory. The MovingSpotlight Theory accepts the eternalist view that the past, thepresent, and the future are equally real; it regards “thehistory of the world as existing eternally in a certain order ofevents.” But it differs from the Russellian theory in that itaccepts presentness as an irreducible feature of reality. So the factthat the leaf is falling now is not to be analysed as the fact thatthe event is simultaneous with an utterance or a specific type ofmental state. The theory claims that presentness is a characteristicmoving along the order of events: “Along [the order of events],and in a fixed direction, […] the characteristic of presentness[is] moving, somewhat like the spot of light from a policeman’sbull’s-eye traversing the fronts of the houses in a street. Whatis illuminated is the present, what has been illuminated is the past,and what has not yet been illuminated is the future” (1923, p.59).
Broad is critical of this theory. To understand the nature of time,The Moving Spotlight Theory makes use of a spatial analogy. Suchanalogies “may be useful for some purposes, but it is clear thatthey explain nothing.” Firstly, Broad asks us to consider thesuccessive lighting of presentness—now on one event and now onanother, and so on. This isitself an event (or a series ofevents), “and ought therefore to be a part of the series ofevents, and not simply something that happens to the latter fromoutside” (1923, p. 60). If we suppose (as we seem compelled to)that it is not a part of the original series of events, we arelaunched on a vicious regress of time-dimensions. For then thesuccessive lightning of later events would have to be conceived of asan event of thesecond order—happening in atime-dimension different from the original one formed by the series offirst-order events. Secondly he presents a related line ofreasoning—sometimes termedThe Rate of PassageArgument: If anything moves, it must move with some determinatevelocity. It will always be sensible to ask ‘How fast does itmove?’ But since the series along which presentness is supposedto move is itself temporal, this question becomes: ‘how great alapse of time 1 does presentness traverse in a unit of time 2?’Again, a regress of time-dimensions is imminent. (Both of thesearguments receive a clearer formulation and more extensive treatmentin Broad (1938).)[11]
Broad’s later account of time differs in some significantrespects from both of the earlier accounts. He now views what he callsabsolute becoming as “the rock-bottom peculiarity oftime”. Absolute becoming manifests itself “as thecontinualsupersession of what was the latest phase by a newphase, which will in turn be superseded by another new one. This seemsto me to be the rock-bottom peculiarity of time, distinguishingtemporal sequence from all other instances of one-dimensionalorder, such as that of points on a line, numbers in order ofmagnitude, and so on” (1959, p. 766).
This theory has, in Broad’s opinion, various advantages. Oneadvantage mentioned is that it seems to avoid the difficulties withtherate of times passage—difficulties which besets theMoving Spotlight Theory, but arguably also the Growing Block Theory.The proposed theory also avoids presupposing that “what has notyet supervened and what has already been superseded in some sense‘co-exist’ with each other and with what is nowoccurring,” which he views as a defect of the Moving SpotlightTheory. More interestingly, it avoids what Broad now regards as adefect of the Growing Block Theory, viz. that of presupposing“that phases, which have already supervened and been superseded,in some sense ‘co-exist’ with each other and with thatwhich is now happening” (1959, p. 767).
(For a book-length study on Broad's philosophy of time, see Oaklander2020.)
Broad discusses the topic of free will in his inaugural lecture“Determinism, Indeterminism, and Libertarianism” (1934).In this rather dense lecture he approaches the issue by associatingfree will with moral responsibility. More specifically, he frames itin terms of the conditions necessary and sufficient for theapplicability of ‘ought’ and ‘ought not’ toactions. Everyone admits, he says, that there is some sense of‘could’ in which ‘ought’ and ‘oughtnot’ entail ‘could’. The question revolves aroundthe sense of ‘could’ involved here: in precisely whatsense of ‘could’ is it that if you to ought to perform anaction you could perform that action?
Let us introduce a couple of Broad’s stipulative definitions. Anaction isobligable if and only if it is an action of which‘ought to be done’ or ‘ought not to be done’can be predicated. An action issubstitutable if either itwas done but could have been left undone, or was left undone but couldhave been done.
An action isobligable if and only if it is, in a certainsense, substitutable. There are several different senses of‘could’ and hence of substitutability. Initially Broadfocuses on a sense of ‘could’ which he callsvoluntarysubstitutability. Consider an actionA that was notperformed. Suppose thatif the agent had willed (chosen,decided) to doA she would have done it. In that caseA is voluntarily substitutable. Suppose, however, that shewould not have doneA even if she had willed to do it. Ifthat’s the case,A is not voluntarily substitutable.Broad takes it as evident that voluntary substitutability is anecessary condition for obligability. That is, he takes it as evidentthat,
A is obligable only ifA is voluntarilysubstitutable.
But is it also asufficient condition? Is it also truethat,
IfA is voluntarily substitutable thenA isobligable.
Broad presents an argument in favour of a negative answer, i.e. infavour of the answer that it could very well be true that someonewould have done an action if he had willed to do it, while it isnonetheless false that the action is obligable (and hence false thatit is voluntarily substitutable). We are asked to consider a personwho gradually becomes addicted to a drug like morphine. At the earlierstages he could have willed with sufficient strength to ensure thatthe temptation would have been resisted. At the later stages he couldnot. “Now at every stage, from the earliest to the latest, thehypothetical proposition would be true: ‘If he had willed with acertain degree of force and persistence to avoid taking morphine, hewould have avoided taking it’. Yet we would say at the earlierstages that he ought to have resisted, whilst at the final stages weshould be inclined to say that ‘ought’ and ‘oughtnot’ have ceased to apply” (1934, p. 200). In other words,in the later stages we are inclined to hold that the action ofabstaining from morphine has ceased to be obligable, in spite of thefact that it remains true thatif he had willed withsufficient force and persistence to abstain he would haveabstained.
This is Broad’s version of an argument sometimes raised againstthe classical compatibilist conditional analysis of ‘Scould have done otherwise’.[12] According to the classical compatibilist analysis this is to beunderstood simply as ‘ifS had willed to actdifferentlyS would have acted differently’. Theargument shows that this will not do: there are situations where anagent would have acted otherwiseif she had willeddifferently but nonetheless could not have acted differently simplybecause she could not havewilled to act differently.[13]
So voluntary substitutability is not sufficient for obligability: foran action to be obligable it is not sufficient that the agent wouldhave acted otherwise if she had willed otherwise. It is also clearthat a further condition must be fulfilled, viz. that shecouldhave willed to act otherwise. This leads us to the question as tothe correct analysis of ‘could have willed differently’.Broad examines a conditional analysis according to which thismeans:
IfS had willed differently in the pastS’sconative-emotional dispositions and knowledge aboutS’sown nature would have been so constituted thatS, at the timewhenS acted, would have willed differently.
Can we perhaps claim an action to be obligable if (a) it isvoluntarily substitutable, and (b) the agent could have willed to doit, in the specified conditional sense of ‘could havewilled’? In other words, is the joint condition of (a) and (b)sufficient for obligability? Broad rejects this proposal. Suppose theagent couldnot have willed differently in the past (say sixmonths ago). It is “surely irrelevant to say that,ifhe had done so his conative dispositionswould have beendifferent at a later stage from what they in fact were then, and thathewould have willed otherwise than he then did” (1934,p. 204). As he points out, at this juncture it is tempting to refer tostill earlier volitions (say twelve months ago). He contends, however,that this is useless since the very same difficulty will reappear.
Broad holds, then, that neither ‘could haveacteddifferently’ nor ‘could havewilleddifferently’ can be given a conditional analysis. Havingdiscarded conditional types of substitutability he turns tocategorical substitutability. If an action is obligable itmust be substitutable in a categorical sense. “We must be ableto say of an action, which was done, that it could have been avoided,in some sense of ‘could’ which is not definable in termsof ‘would have, if’” (1934, p. 204). Note that thequoted passage merely states that categorical substitutability is anecessary condition of obligability. It is clear, however,that Broad also takes it to be a sufficient condition. Thus, hisposition is that,
A is obligable if and only ifA is categoricallysubstitutable.
Now preciselywhat is categorical substitutability? As weshall presently see, Broad claims that this notion is only partlyintelligible.
Categorical substitutability involves a negative and a positivecondition. These are necessary and jointly sufficient forobligability. Thenegative condition says that theagent’s willing of a certain action was not completelydetermined by the nomic and singular conditions which existed at thetime of willing. Not surprisingly, Broad regards an action that merelyfulfils this condition as “anaccident, lucky orunlucky as the case may be.” Neither the agent nor“anything else in the universe can properly be praised or blamedfor it” (1934, p. 212; Broad’s italics).
Thepositive condition (which must also be fulfilled) saysthat the willing of the action is “literally determined by theagent or self, considered as a substance or continuant, and not by atotal cause which contains as factorsevents in anddispositions of the agent” (1934, p. 214–5;Broad’s italics). Thus a free action is an action that is causedby theagent.
(Note that the view that there are agent-caused effects is a form ofindeterminism, since it says that there are certain eventswhich, although they are indeed caused, are not fixed as a matter ofnatural law.)
Broad rejects the idea of agent-causation as unintelligible.
Now it is surely quite evident that, if the beginning of a certainprocess at a certain time is determined at all, its total causemust contain as an essential factor another event or processwhichenters into the moment from which the determined eventor process issues. I see noprima facie objection to therebeing events which are not completely determined. But, in so far as aneventis determined, an essential factor in its total causemust be otherevents. How could an event possibly bedetermined to happen at a certain date if its total cause contained nofactor to which the notion of date has any application? And how canthe notion of date have any application to anything that is not anevent? (1934, p. 215; Broad’s emphasis.)
If an agent wills to perform an action at a certain time there must bea process or event that occurs at that time (or the moment before).Thus there must be something about the agent that explains why thewilling of the action started precisely at that time rather than at aslightly earlier or later time. The agentper se will notdo.
The position Broad reaches is a version of what is sometimes calledfree will pessimism: free will is incompatible withdeterminism, but there is no viable form ofindeterminismwhich leaves room for free will, either; therefore, free will does notexist—indeedcould not exist.
In the last chapter of his monumentalThe Mind and Its Place inNature Broad defends an Emergentist position with respect to therelation between mind and matter: mental properties are, in hisopinion, distinct from physical properties; they are properties thatemerge when neurophysiological processes have attained asufficiently high degree of complexity. His discussion and defense ofEmergentism features two chief elements. Firstly, there is ameticulous examination of the concept of emergence as such; secondly,there is a discussion of whether there is reason to think thatemergent phenomena actually exist.
Chapter Two ofThe Mind and its Place in Nature is devoted toa thorough discussion of the notion ofemergence. In thischapter Broad is primarily interested in the notion or concept ofemergenceper se. Thus he is there not so much interested inthe actual existence of emergent phenomena.
Anemergent property of an aggregate or a whole is, veryroughly, a property that is something over and above the properties ofits parts and the way they are arranged in the aggregate. Broadprefers to capture this in epistemic terms: an emergent property of awhole is a property that it is impossible to logically infer from eventhe most complete knowledge of the properties of the parts of thewhole. A property thatcan be so inferred is areducible property. He captures the contrast between emergentand reducible properties in the following passage.
Put in abstract termsthe emergent theory asserts that thereare certain wholes composed (say) of constituentsA,B, andC in a relationR to each other;that all wholes composed of constituents of the same kind asA,B, andC in relations of the same kindasR have certain characteristic properties; thatA,B, andC are capable of occurring in other kinds ofcomplex where the relation is not of the same kind asR; andthat the characteristic properties of the wholeR(A,B,C) cannot, even in theory, be deduced from themost complete knowledge of the properties ofA,B,andC in isolation or in other wholes which are not of theformR(A,B,C).Themechanistic theory rejects the last clause of this assertion.(1925, p. 61)
‘The mechanistic theory’ is Broad’s label for thetheory that today is termed ‘physicalism.’
Suppose a certain biological feature, e.g. the capacity for nutrition,is an emergent property. This means that the property is not a mereresult of an immensely high degree of organisational complexity at thechemical level. The property is, to be sure, nomically dependent onthe chemical level, but it is not a mere resultant of the properties,relations, and laws operative at that level. If nutrition were a mereresultant property it would be areducible property; it wouldbe a property that theoreticallycan be inferred fromfeatures at the chemical level (i.e. the properties, relations andlaws which characterise the constituents in isolation or in otherwholes than the one in question).
Broad’s concept of emergence isweakly epistemic; hisnotion is at heart metaphysical: the epistemic predicament that we arein vis-à-vis an emergent property reflects an importantmetaphysical fact about the property in question, viz. that it isneither identical with nor constituted by the properties and relationsof the constituents of the whole in question. Thus Broad’snotion of emergence contrasts with astrongly epistemicnotion which, very roughly, says that a property is emergent for afinite epistemic subject when provided with fairly extensiveinformation about the properties and relations of the constituents thesubject is still unable logically to infer that property from theinformation in question although the property in factisreducible to the features of the constituents.
Hempel and Oppenheim (1948) raise several objections to Emergentism.Brief attention to two of their objections will help bring out atleast a couple of the many facets of Broad’s subtle account.Firstly, to assume that emergent phenomena exist is to assume thatthere are certain phenomena that have “a mysterious quality ofabsolute unexplainability”. They confidently assert that“emergence […] is not an ontological trait inherent insome phenomena; rather it is indicative of the scope of our knowledgeat a given time” (p. 119). This objection in effect implies thatthe metaphysical notion of emergence is dismissed in favour of astrongly epistemic notion.
Broad stresses that it is an empirical question whether a certainbiological or chemical phenomenon is emergent or not. It is alwayspossible that what strikes us as an emergent property of a biologicalof chemical phenomenon “is due to our imperfect knowledge ofmicroscopic structure or to our mathematical incompetence”(1925, p. 81). He also emphasises the practical importance of seekingto devise reductions for as many properties as possible: that ambitionis “the natural and proper ambition of the scientists”(1933, p. 268).
It should perhaps also be added that although emergent properties areindeed “unexplainable” in the sense that that they are notsusceptible to areductive explanation, this does not meanthat they are “unexplainable” in every sense: theinherence of an emergent property in a particular whole does admit ofan explanation bynomic subsumption. We can explain itsinherence in terms of the nature of the whole and an emergent law. Thelaw of course remain a brute fact. But surely, so do some laws onany account of the world.
Hempel and Oppenheim also object that Emergentists are erroneouslycommitted to regard the mass or weight of a whole as an emergentproperty. (Weight is, of course, a reducible characteristic if thereever was one!) The reason they give for this is that not even theweight of a whole can be logically inferred from premises that solelycontain propositions about the weight of the parts; in addition a lawis needed which expresses the weight of the whole as some specificmathematical function of the weight of the constituent (1948, p. 119).However, Broad’s account clearly anticipates the objection. Heprovides the reason why a property such as weight (or mass) should notbe conceived as an emergent property. To “explain the behaviourof any whole in terms of its structure and components wealways need two independent kinds of information. (a) We needto know how the parts would behave separately. And (b) we need to knowthe law or laws according to which the behaviour of the separate partsis compounded when they are acting together in any proportion andarrangement” (1925, p. 61; Broad’s italics). So to knowabout the mass of a wholeX we need to know the mass ofX’s partsand the principle according to whichthe mass of a whole is determined by the mass of the parts. It isthrough experience that we have found that the mass of a whole is themathematical sum of the mass of the parts; and it is throughexperience we have found that the very same principle (orlaw ofcomposition) is applicable to any type of whole. To see this,consider the last clause of Broad’s characterisation of emergentproperties above. The clause says that an emergent property of acertain whole cannot, even in theory, be logically inferred from themost complete knowledge of the properties of the partsinisolation or in other wholes which are not of the form to befound the whole in question. Is this applicable to the mass of acertain whole? Is it applicable to the mass ofX? No,certainly not: weare able to logically infer the mass of anywhole, includingX, from knowledge of the masses of parts inisolation or in wholes other thanX.
It is one thing to delineate the contours of the notion of emergence,another to argue that emergent phenomena actually exist. A widevariety of phenomena have been held to be emergent. Apart fromconsciousness, various chemical and biological phenomena have beenheld to be emergent. Broad is not willing to rule out a physicalisticreduction of chemistry and biology to physics: chemical and biologicalphenomena might, he believes, very well be reducible to complexmicrophysical processes. In his opinion, however, consciousness is adifferent matter. We will turn to consciousness in a moment. When itcomes to biology and chemistry he declares that he does not see any“a priori impossibility in a mechanistic biology orchemistry” (1925, p. 72). He stresses that it is in practiceenormously difficult to know whether, say, a certain biologicalfeature such as nutrition is emergent or not. It is evident from whatBroad says that he recognises that the Emergentist stance has itsdangers in that it tends to encourage acceptance of laws andproperties as ultimate and irreducible. There is a danger in thisbecause, as he notes, reductive explanations have proved remarkablysuccessful in the past, and there is the possibility that what we taketo be an emergent phenomenon is in fact reducible.
In the last chapter of his book Broad presents a taxonomy of no lessthan seventeen different theories which are “possibletheoretically on the relation between Mind and Matter” (1925, p.607). By a process of elimination Broad arrives at a more wieldynumber of theories. Two of the remaining rivalling theories arePhysicalism—in Broad’s terminology,“Mechanism”—and Emergentism. Let us now take acloser look at his case for Emergentism.
Broad adduces a version of what has come to be known asTheKnowledge Argument in favour of an Emergentist position withrespect to the place of consciousness in nature. He asks us to assumethat there is a mathematical archangel. The archangel’smathematical and logical capability is unlimited; in addition he isgifted with the capacity to perceive “the microscopic structureof atoms as easily as we can perceive hay-stacks”. Now wouldthere be any limit to the archangel’s knowledge of the world?Broad’s answer is Yes.
Take any ordinary statement, such as we find in chemistry books; e.g,“Nitrogen and Hydrogen combine when an electric discharge ispassed through the mixture of the two. The resulting compound containsthree atoms of Hydrogen to one of Nitrogen; it is a gas readilysoluble in water and possessed of a characteristic smell.” Ifthe mechanistic theory be true the archangel could deduce from hisknowledge of the microscopic structure of atoms all these fact but thelast. He would know exactly what the microscopic structure must be;but he would be totally unable to predict that a substance with thisstructure must smell as ammonia does when it gets into the human nose.The utmost that he could predict on this subject would be that certainchanges would take place in the mucous membrane, the olfactory nervesand so on. But he could not possibly know that these changes would beaccompanied by the appearance of a smell in general or of the peculiarsmell of ammonia in particular, unless someone told him so or he hadsmelled it for himself. If the existence of the so-called“secondary qualities,” or the fact of their appearance,depends on the microscopic movements and arrangements of materialparticles which do not have these qualities themselves, then the lawof this dependence are certainly of the emergent type. [1925, p.71–2]
The archangel knows all the physicalistic (mechanistic) truths. Thereare, however, some truths that he does not know. But if Physicalismwere true the archangel should knowall truths. Physicalismis, therefore, false.
If sound, Broad’s argument establishes the negative conclusionthat mental phenomena are distinct from neurophysiological processes.By itself it does not establish the Emergentist position, since theconclusion is consistent with the truth of, say, Substance Dualism (orwhat Broad calls “Dualism of incompatibles”).Broad’s overall argumentation for Emergentism, however, alsoincludes a fairly thorough discussion that seeks to undermine variouslines of argument to the effect that mental properties and physicalproperties areincompatible, i.e. arguments to the effectthat a material whole such as a nervous system could not possibly havemental properties. These are arguments that, if successful, would ruleout Emergentism (which is a form of property dualism) in favour ofsubstance dualism. Broad’s case for Emergentism, then, includesmore than his knowledge argument and the simple methodological pointthat Emergentism is a more ontologically economical position thansubstance dualism.
Broad distinguishes two chief aspects of philosophical thinking. Helabels these critical philosophy and speculative philosophy.Critical philosophy has two chief tasks, one of which is toanalyse “certain very general concepts such as number, thing,quality, change, cause, etc.” (1924, p. 82). We make use ofthese and a whole host of other concepts in science and ordinary life.Although we are typically able to apply them fairly consistently, weare not able to analyse them. Nor are we able to state their preciserelations to each other. One task of critical philosophy is to provideanalyses of such concepts. It becomes evident that this is animportant task as soon as it is realized that when we seek to applythese concepts to odd or exceptional cases we are often uncertainwhether they are applicable. For example, it might be unclear whethera certain individual with a multiple personality disorder is aperson or not.[14] Such difficulties arise because “we are not clear as to what wemean by ‘being a person’” (1924, p. 83). There is,therefore, a need for an intellectual discipline that seeks to analyseand define this and many other concepts.
In science and in daily life we do not merely use unanalysed concepts.“We also assume uncritically a number of very fundamentalpropositions. In all our arguments we assume the truth of certainprinciples of reasoning. Again, we always assume that every change hasa cause. And in induction we certainly assume something—it ishard to say what—about the fundamental ‘make-up’ ofthe existent world” (1924, p. 84).
The second task of critical philosophy is to examine these and otherfundamental assumptions; it is “to take these propositions whichwe uncritically assume in science and daily life and to subject themto criticism” (ibid.).[15]
In order to analyse a proposition we must seek to attain a clearergrasp of the concepts featured in the proposition. Thus the analysisand criticism of a proposition depends on the analysis of concepts.Andvice versa: by reflecting on the propositions in which acertain concept occurs we clear up the meaning of it.
Now, critical philosophy is one part or aspect of philosophicalthinking. But critical philosophy “does not include all that isunderstood by philosophy. It is certainly held to be the function of aphilosopher to discuss the nature of Reality as a whole, and toconsider the position and prospects of men in it” (1924, p. 96).This aspect of philosophical thinking isspeculativephilosophy.
Speculative philosophy seeks to work out a view of reality as a wholeby taking into account the whole range of humanexperience—scientific, social, ethical, æsthetic, andreligious: “Its business is to take over all aspects of humanexperience, to reflect upon them, and to try to think out a view ofReality as a whole which shall do justice to all of them” (1924,p. 96).
Broad’s idea is that the various aspects of human experience and(putative) facts linked to these provide a point of departure forphilosophical reflection—an exceedingly important sort ofreflection aiming at a reasoned view of Reality as a whole.
As can be gathered from the above, philosophical thinking features,according to Broad, a distinctive type of birds-eye view. He calls itsynopsis. Let us take a somewhat closer look at this. Theplain man as well as the professional scientist or scholar
conduct various parts of their living and their thinking in relativelywatertight compartments; turn blind eyes to awkward, abnormal, ormarginal facts; and skate successfully on the surface of thephenomena. But the desire to see how the various aspects of experiencehang together does arise from time to time in most intelligent men,and philosophers are persons in whom it is especially strong andpersistent. Now I understand bysynopsis the necessarypreliminary towards trying to satisfy this desire, viz. the deliberateviewing together of aspects of human experience which are generallyviewed apart, and the endeavour to see how they are inter-related.(1947a, p. 4)
On reflection it is clear that the synoptic stance is necessary forthe discovery of various inadequacies in our picture of reality,inadequacies resulting from a far too insular perspective on reality.The synoptic stance will, in effect, lead to the discovery of latentphilosophical problems: “It is synopsis, revealingprimafacie incoherence, which is the main motive to philosophicalactivity” (1958, p. 121; cf. 1947a, p. 16). And it is clearlyonly after we have discovered and successfully addressed theseproblems that we may lay claim to a satisfactory picture of reality asa whole.
Broad gives several examples of how synopsis is featured inphilosophical thinking. One of these is taken from the free willproblem (1947a, pp. 8–11). In a very condensed form the mainfacts germane to the problem are these: (i) When we consider asituation in which we did a certain action, we are quite convincedthat we could have done otherwise: we could have performed analternative action. On reflection it seems clear that‘could’ is used in some sense that is not analysable interms of ‘would have, if’. (ii) Our moral judgments seemto presuppose that a person who in fact willed to do a certain actioncould have willed otherwise. (iii) Given the past, the actualsituation and the laws of nature it seems impossible that anythingother should have happened than what in fact did happen. If so, howcan our volitions be other than completely determined? (iv) It isdifficult, then, to reconcile the notions of moral responsibility withthe view that our volitions are completely determined.
The problem of free will is discovered when we look at (i) and (ii) inthe light of (iii) In other words, the very problem is discerned onlybecause we have envisaged these facts together, i.e. because we havetaken a synoptic view of the facts.
Probability and Induction. Broad dealt with problemsregarding induction—“the glory of science and the scandalof philosophy”[16] —in a number of papers. A sample of his work on the subject isthe two early papers entitled “The Relation Induction andProbability” (1918, 1920). Broad’s focus is on the natureand justification of inductive inferences. He argues that unless theconclusions of such inferences are cast in terms of probability theyall involve a formal fallacy. However in order to arrive at justifiedinductive conclusions we cannot simply place our confidence in any ofthe known principles of probability theory (such as those we employ inreasoning with regard to artificial situations with bags containingred and white balls, and the like): we need some further premise.Unfortunately, this premise is “extremely difficult to state[…] so that it shall be at once plausible andnon-tautologous” (1918, p. 389). Broad attempts to articulatethe supreme principle needed. He argues at length that the principleneeded says not simply (and crudely): “there is uniformity innature.” It also says that the particular things or substancesin the world subject to uniformity belong to a variety ofnaturalkinds. Indeed, on closer reflection it is clear that “[t]henotions of permanent substances, genuine natural kinds, and universalcausation are parts of a highly complex and closely interwoven wholeand any of them breaks down hopelessly without the rest” (1920,p. 44). Notable also is the logic of conditions that Broad’sformulates in “The Principles of Demonstrative Induction”(1930b). He may quite well be the first who gave systematic attentionto this topic.[17]
Causation. Causation is dealt with in several ofBroad’s works (beginning as early as his first book,Perception, Physics and Reality, 1914). The logic ofconditions formulated in (1930b) would square well with some versionof the regularity theory of causation. However, in several worksrather penetrating criticism of that theory is offered (e.g., in Ch.3, 1925). In (1933) he tries to formulate an alternative. Causalityinvolves something between regularity and logical entailment; there issome form of necessity, but not the kind involved in logicalentailment. The latter is an absolute necessity. Consider theproposition ’Anything that has shape would haveextension’. This is not only true in the actual world: it istrue in all logically possible worlds; there could not have been aworld in which there were things that had shape but lacked extension.Now compare the proposition ’Anything that had inertial masswould have gravitational mass’. There could not be things in theactual world which had inertial mass but lacked gravitationalmass. But there could have been a world in which there were thingsthat had inertial mass but lacked gravitational mass. The kind ofnecessity involved here is a contingent necessity. (Cf. 1933, pp.242–3.) Broad is, however, rather skeptical of the alternativehe has sought to formulate. He says with characteristic candor thatthe notion of a necessity which is contingent might very well be“sheer nonsense”.
The Unconscious. Broad examines issues surrounding “theunconscious” at some length inThe Mind and Its Place inNature. His objective is to capture a (literal) sense in which anexperiential mental state may be said to be unconscious. Although herejects the view that the notion of unconscious experience isincoherent he argues that there is no compelling reason to assume thatsuch actually exist. The assumption that there is a pure neural statewith causal properties that are similar to those of a certain mentalstate is sufficient to explain the facts.
Time Consciousness. Broad gave two different accounts oftemporal experience.[18] Consider an experience of a succession of notes:Do–Re–Mi. The earlier accountclaims that what one is aware of istemporally extended; itincludes the present note as well as the immediate past ones:“what is sensed at any moment stretches a little way back behindthat moment” (1923, p. 348). What you are aware of whenMi is present extends to, and so includes the past notesRe andDo. On the later account we are strictlyspeaking aware only of the present note,Mi. But thisawareness is coupled with a representation of the past notes under adistinctive mode of temporal presentation. Broad introduces the notionofpresentedness. When you are aware of the present noteMi it is apprehended as possessing the maximum degree ofpresentedness, while the noteRe is represented as possessinga less degree of presentedness, andDo a still lesserdegree.
The Philosophy of Parapsychology. Parapsychology is the studyof apparently paranormal events. Broad seeks to capture the nature andimportance of the subject. A paranormal event is an event that seemsprima facie to conflict with what he terms abasiclimiting principle, i.e. a principle that “weunhesitatingly take for granted as the framework within which all ourpractical activities and our scientific theories are confined”(1953, p. 7). There are a number of such principles. One says that anevent cannot begin to have any effect before it has occurred; anotherthat knowledge of the future is impossible except in certain familiarmanners, such as by inference from present facts. The basic limitingprinciples seem to “cover very satisfactorily an enormous rangeof well-established facts of the most varied kinds”. We aretherefore “naturally inclined to think that they must beall-embracing” (p. 8). And for that reason these principles areof immense importance to our overall view of the universe and ourplace in it. But just in proportion to this importance is “thephilosophic importance of any well-established exception tothem” (p. 9).
The Philosophy of Religion. Broad’s writings on thissubject have the virtues characteristic of everything hewrote—thoroughness, lucidity and fairness. Broad rejects thetraditional arguments for the existence of God. His essay“Arguments for The Existence of God” (1939) features asearching critique of the cosmological argument and the ontologicalargument (regarding the argument from design, Broad states that he hasnothing to add to the critique of Hume and Kant). He arguesinteralia that the conclusion of the cosmological argument has aconsequence that few would stomach, viz. that there are no reallycontingent facts, although many facts “seem contingent relativeto our ignorance”. As to the ontological argument Broad claimsthat the notion of the greatest possible being is “meaninglessverbiage” unless the properties that are essential to the notionof God admit of anintrinsic maximum. He argues that thatcondition is not satisfied. Therefore, the argument is “wreckedbefore ever it leaves port.” In the latter part of his essayBroad turns to the argument from religious experience (in what mightquite well be the first systematic treatment of the argument). Theposition he takes is, in a nutshell, this. If a person has anexperience that she takes to be an experience of anX, it isreasonable to conclude that she did experience anX unlessthere is some positive reason to think otherwise. To refuse to applythis principle to religious experiences is not reasonable. Thequestion then is whether there is some positive reason to think thatreligious experiences are delusive. But on reflection it turns outthere is no such reason. We may therefore conclude that religiousexperiences are probably veridical.
Ethics. In writings up to, and includingFive Types ofEthical Theory Broad assumes that ethical sentences expressjudgements. He favours an intuitionist or non-naturalist analysis. Inlater works, however, he is undecided: it could be that ethicalsentences express judgements; but, alternatively, they may expressemotions or commands. Notwithstanding this, Broad fruitfully (andindefatigably!) classifies alternative types of ethical theories,uncovers their underlying assumptions, and draws out their logicalconsequences. As to normative ethics, Broad does not think theutilitarian view that there is one and only one criterion of rightaction can be sustained. Neither did he accept hedonism. There are, heargues, other bearers of intrinsic value and disvalue than pleasureand pain.
Broad made many specific contributions to the subject of moralphilosophy that could be mentioned. Here are three of these. (i) Thereis a fine discussion of psychological egoism (a discussion where he,as he quite correctly says, gives the psychological egoist “thelongest possible run for his money”).[19] After Butler there is hardly need of further nails in the coffin ofthat theory. But because of its shrewd and perceptive treatment ofhuman motivation Broad’s essay is nonetheless of remaininginterest. (ii) InFive Types Broad tentatively suggests aversion of what is currently known asThe Fitting AttitudeAnalysis of value. He writes with characteristic cautiousness:“I am not sure that ‘X is good’ could notbe defined as meaning thatX is such that it would be afitting object of desire to any mind which had an adequate idea of itsnon-ethical characteristics” (p. 283).[20] (iii) In an early paper (1916), Broad seems to anticipate ideasgaining currency much later among moral and political philosophers. Hesuggests that the goodness of a complex state of affairs is not merelya function of the value of its parts. Its goodness is restrained by acondition which says, roughly, that the best possible state of affairsis one where the producers of some good are as nearly as possibleidentical with the enjoyers of that good. The principle says that thecontributors to a cooperative scheme is bound by a duty offairness. The principle Broad alludes to could be seen as anearly version of the Principle of Fairness (later to be found in thework of H. L. A. Hart and John Rawls).[21]
The History of Philosophy. Broad wrote on a variety ofscattered figures in the history of philosophy, e.g. Bacon, Butler,Berkeley, Newton, Leibniz and Kant. A notable work isFive Typesof Ethical Theory that (alongside careful discussions of suchphilosophers as Spinoza and Hume) includes a pioneering study of HenrySidgwick’sThe Methods of Ethics (1874), written at atime when Sidgwick’s work had passed into nearly completeoblivion. Noteworthy here also are the two posthumously published booklength studies on Leibniz and Kant, respectively. Both of thesecontain shrewd philosophical comment that are of general philosophicalinterest.
| [1914] | Perception, Physics, and Reality, Russell and Russell,New York, 1973; this edition is a reissue of the work, originallypublished by Cambridge University Press in 1914. |
| [1915] | “Phenomenalism,”Proceedings of the AristotelianSociety, 15: 227–51. |
| [1916] | “On the Function of False Hypotheses in Ethics,”International Journal of Ethics, 26: 377–97; reprintedin Broad 1971, 43–62 and [available online]. |
| [1918] | “The Relation between Induction and Probability (I)”Mind, 27: 389–404. Reprinted in Broad (1968); pagereferences to the original publication. |
| [1919] | “Is there ‘Knowledge by Acquaintance’?”Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Supplementary Volume2: 206-20. |
| [1920] | “The Relation between Induction and Probability(II)”Mind, 29: 11–45. Reprinted in Broad (1968);page references to the original publication. |
| [1921a] | “Time,” inEncyclopedia of Ethics andReligion, J. Hastings,et al. (eds.), Vol. 12, Edinburghand New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. |
| [1921b] | “The External World,”Mind, 30:385–408. |
| [1923] | Scientific Thought, London: Kegan Paul. |
| [1924] | “Critical and Speculative Philosophy,” inContemporary British Philosophy (First Series), ed. by J.H.Muirhead, London: Allen and Unwin. |
| [1925] | The Mind and Its Place in Nature, London: KeganPaul. |
| [1928] | “Time and Change,”Proceedings of theAristotelian Society, Supplementary Volume 8: 175–88. |
| [1930a] | Five Types of Ethical Theory, London: Kegan Paul. |
| [1930b] | “The Principles of Demonstrative Induction,” I andII,Mind, 39: 302–17, 426–39. Reprinted in Broad(1968); page references to the original publication. |
| [1933] | An Examination of McTaggart’s Philosophy (VolumeI), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. |
| [1934] | “Determinism, Indeterminism, and Libertarianism,”inaugural lecture delivered at Cambridge in 1934. Reprinted in Broad(1952); page references to this. |
| [1938] | An Examination of McTaggart’s Philosophy (VolumeII, Part 1), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1938. |
| [1939] | “Arguments for The Existence of God,” I and II, inBroad (1953); originally inJournal of Theological Studies,40: 16–30, 156–67. |
| [1942] | “Berkeley’s Argument about MaterialSubstance,”Proceedings of the British Academy, 28:119–138; page references to the reprint by Haskell HousePublishers, New York, 1976. |
| [1945] | “Some Reflections on Moral Sense Theories inEthics,”Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 45:131–66. |
| [1947a] | “Some Methods of Speculative Philosophy,”Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Supplementary Volume21: 1–32. |
| [1947b] | “Professor Marc-WogausTheorie derSinnesdata” (I and II),Mind, 56: 1–30,97–131. |
| [1949] | “The Relevance of Psychical Research to Philosophy,”in Broad (1953); originally inPhilosophy, 24:291–309. |
| [1952a] | “Some Elementary Reflexions on Sense-Perception,”Philosophy, 27: 3–17. |
| [1952b] | Ethics and The History of Philosophy, London:Routledge. |
| [1953] | Religion, Philosophy and Psychical Research, London:Routledge. |
| [1954a] | “Berkeley’s Denial of Material Substance,”The Philosophical Review, 63: 155–81. |
| [1954b] | “Emotion and Sentiment,”Journal of Aestheticsand Art Criticism, 13: 203–214. |
| [1958] | “Philosophy,”Inquiry, 1:99–129. |
| [1959a] | “A Reply to My Critics,” in Schilpp (1959). |
| [1959b] | “Autobiography,” in Schilpp (1959). |
| [1968] | Induction, Probability, and Causation. Selected Papers by C.D. Broad, Dordrecht: Reidel. |
| [1971] | Broad’s Critical Essays in Moral Philosophy,edited by D. R. Cheney; New York: Humanities Press. |
| [1975] | Leibniz, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. |
| [1978] | Kant, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. |
| [1985] | Ethics, C. Levy (ed.); Dordrecht: Martinus NijhoffPublishers. |
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consciousness: temporal |emergent properties |incompatibilism: arguments for |induction: problem of |perception: the problem of |qualia: knowledge argument |religion: philosophy of |sense data |space and time: being and becoming in modern physics |time |value theory
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