Professional Documents
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The Philosophy of Information by Luciano
The Philosophy of Information by Luciano
1, 2012
doi: 10.1111/j.1468-5930.2011.00535.x
Book Reviews
© Society for Applied Philosophy, 2012, Blackwell Publishing, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford, OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main
Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA.
Book Reviews 85
The third part of the book examines issues concerned with what kind of evidence is
needed for attempted crimes. Chapter 8 argues that criminal attempts require some act
in furtherance of the intended crime because without such an act there is insufficient
evidence that the defendant was committed to completing the crime, given ability,
opportunity and no change of mind. Chapter 9 argues that in some cases the nature of the
attempter’s plan (e.g. to murder someone through voodoo incantations) shows that the
person, while genuinely trying to commit the crime, has a diminished practical compe-
tence and that this means that we have insufficient evidence to warrant a finding of guilt.
Part 3 closes with Chapter 10’s discussion of the act requirement in attempt.Yaffe argues
that any act in furtherance of a criminal intention will provide adequate evidence of a
criminal attempt where the agent is rational and practically competent. However, if the
person is irrational or practically incompetent, then the evidence needed for guilt is that
the person performed the ‘last act’ (i.e. the act after which nothing more is needed from
the attempter for completion of the crime, absent external interventions). In this way,
Yaffe seeks to reconcile the different approaches to the act requirement in attempt.
The last two chapters, comprising Part 4, examine issues relating to the sentencing of
attempters. Chapter 11 addresses the problem of the attempter who abandons their
attempted crime before completion. Yaffe argues for a middle course of treating aban-
donment as mitigating sentence, compared with the two extremes of treating it as a
complete affirmative defence and viewing it as irrelevant. He argues that, though the
reasons for punishing attempts and completions are usually the same, if some of the
reasons for punishing the completed crime are undercut in the case of abandonment
then there is reason to mitigate the sentence. Such reasons are undercut in such cases
because abandonment shows that the abandoner has appreciated sufficient reasons to
abandon their course of action, whereas the unrepentant attempter has not shown any
such appreciation. Finally, in Chapter 12,Yaffe defends the view that it is fair to punish
last act attempters less severely than criminal completers, because the last act attempter
and the completer do not in fact ‘do the same thing’.Yaffe argues that while persons who
exercise the same control do deserve the same censure, they do not necessarily deserve
the same sanction.This is because the difference in their contexts (which can include the
difference between successful and unsuccessful attempts) can warrant different sanc-
tions being issued to express the same censure.
Each chapter of the book is clearly structured and well-introduced.Yaffe’s arguments
are tightly, even densely, written, but he provides clear signposts of where the discussion
is going and has gone. Yaffe’s philosophical method is very solidly — some might say
unremittingly — analytic. The focus is very much on defining terms and positions with
precision, closely analysing, advancing and critiquing arguments premise by premise,
and reaching crisply delineated conclusions for and against the various positions advo-
cated and critiqued.
Yaffe’s frequent references to and deft use of actual case law and statutory provisions
(nearly all US cases and statutes, it may be noted) help to connect the book to the
practical realities of the law of criminal attempts, realities which are sometimes bizarre,
sometimes humorous, but often very sad or distressing. (Perhaps in those cultures which
treat losers as invisible and criminals as pariahs, the failed criminal is the most socially
contemptible of all.) At the same time, Yaffe’s analyses of the cases often show how the
sometimes simple-seeming events constituting criminal attempts can become much
more complex and problematic once we start critically reflecting on them.
This brief review has not tried to do justice to the impressive detail and complexity of
Yaffe’s arguments. It should suffice to say, however, that anyone attempting original work
in this area will now need to complete this book first.
STEVEN TUDOR
La Trobe University, Australia
doi: 10.1111/j.1468-5930.2011.00542.x
My own view falls somewhere in between. I think the book is difficult, but well
worth grappling with. I am a fan of (small-p) philosophy of information, and from that
perspective I think that the book often moves far too fast philosophically and tries to do too
much. But I also think there is a great deal to admire in this book, including much to
admire philosophically. For example, some of the material on epistemology, especially Ch.
13 but also some of his work on the definition of knowledge, is masterful, and while many
will disagree with the details of Floridi’s attempted modelling of the concept of informa-
tion and his attempt to solve the grounding problem much of this work strikes me
as extremely good. But I certainly don’t think that all of Floridi’s contributions to PI are
successful (among other things, I found the material on truth as correctness relatively
underdeveloped, and too susceptible to familiar objections to epistemic notions of truth;
I also found the thesis of informational structural realism frustratingly elusive, and hard to
reconcile on the face of it with the LOA-mediated form of Kantianism defended elsewhere
in the book). Despite such reservations, I thought this an intriguing, eye-opening work —
although I suspect that the hoped-for revolution in philosophy will have to wait.
FREDERICK KROON
University of Auckland
doi: 10.1111/j.1468-5930.2011.00549.x
Love’s Vision
T J, 2011
Princeton, Princeton University Press.
xi + 197 pp, £24.95 (hb)
During the past few decades there has been a resurgence of interest in the Philosophy of
Love, and in particular, of romantic love. Philosophers have grappled with questions
regarding both the nature of love and the reasons for loving particular people. Very
broadly speaking, there are two schools of thought. The rationalist school argues that
love, like other emotions, has reasons and can thus be explained and justified. By
contrast, the anti-rationalist school, of which Harry Frankfurt is a major proponent, (see,
for example, The Reasons of Love. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), contends
that there are no justificatory reasons for love.
In the elegantly written Love’s Vision, Troy Jollimore offers a novel way to understand
romantic love. His book draws upon a vast body of philosophical literature on the nature
of love, but it is easily accessible for those without a background in philosophy. It is full
of useful examples from literature, film and music, and is compelling and fun to read. His
principal aim is to explain why love lies ‘somewhere in between’ the rationalist and the
anti-rationalist views of love, whilst at the same time claiming that love, though posing
moral problems, is fundamentally a moral emotion. In order to do this, he develops the
idea that love is a way of seeing the beloved that involves placing her at the centre of the
lover’s vision. The lover views her properties in the best possible light, and tries to see
the world from her point of view.
Jollimore observes that love involves both epistemic and moral quandaries. The
epistemic problem lies in the way that love demands accepting a disproportionately
favourable view of the beloved. The moral problem is that love asks us to neglect the
needs of others in favour of the beloved, even when their needs are greater. Thus,
although love is a kind of vision, these are two ways in which it might be said to be ‘blind’.
On the first, the beloved is idealised and the lover is blinded to her negative qualities. On
the second, the lover develops a kind of tunnel vision, shutting herself off from the needs
and desires of those other than her beloved.
Regarding the epistemic problem, Jollimore reminds us of the difference between love
and infatuation; the latter being far more prone to idealisation. He accepts that love also
demands that we view the beloved with a positive bias, but points out that it also requires
us to acquire deep knowledge of her and to try to understand her actions. Therefore, we
might end up seeing the beloved more accurately than we would were we not to love her.
Jollimore also admits that love’s tunnel vision might encourage us to ignore the needs
of others, but offers an original and interesting way to understand love’s morality. He
suggests that, by calling on us to fully appreciate someone else in her individuality and
to try to understand her thoughts and actions charitably, love represents an ideal moral
relationship. A very interesting point he makes on this subject is that love teaches us to
be moral by providing us with insight into the value of other people. We could be moral
without love if we followed impersonal moral rules, but these can only be developed in
the first place through identifying with others and fully appreciating their value. The
‘impersonal saint’ who ‘lives her life entirely according to the impersonal attitude’ could
only know that others are valuable through the experiences of lovers (p. 168). In other
words, morality is only made possible through the existence of love.
Further, contra Frankfurt, Jollimore argues that the lover does not bestow value onto the
beloved, but rather focussed and generous attention that allows him to see her value.Thus
the lover does not make the beloved more valuable than others; her value is just attended
to and appreciated more.To be appreciated in this way is valuable in allowing the beloved
to feel that she matters, that her ‘mental and emotional events’ are important (p. 89). In
addition, by conceiving of love in this way, Jollimore is able to demonstrate that the beloved
is loved for her features whilst avoiding the problem faced by the rationalists that the lover
is rationally obligated to stop loving the beloved when she loses her lovable features. On his
account, by being open to whatever value is there to be found, the lover, looking at her
beloved with love’s vision, should continue to be able to find value in the beloved.
Moreover, love is not only a response to the perceived value of the beloved; it also
involves identifying with her.This is widely acknowledged, but Jollimore provides a fresh
way of conceiving of identification through the model of vision. On his understanding,
the lover sees the world through the eyes of the beloved and allows her way of perceiving
things to affect his vision. Thus love ‘involves both appreciating the properties she bears
as an object and identifying with her as a subject’ (p. 123). By making identification with
the beloved an essential feature of love, Jollimore manages to avoid the objection that the
rationalist cannot distinguish between love and admiration.
However, one slight reservation I have about Jollimore’s account is that he is unable
to distinguish between romantic love and friendship. Indeed, he presupposes that friend-
ship and romantic love are so similar that ‘we are justified in providing a single unified
account that treats them as essentially the same phenomenon’ (pp. xv–xvi). He does not
argue for this, and to ask him to do so when he has so much else to say would probably
NATASHA MCKEEVER
University of Sheffield