This is a hard thing to have to think about, and since all of us on this panel are teachers, we all have to come to terms with the issues. Let me just offer some thoughts on how I think I would handle things if this sort of case arose. There are some obvious conflicting values here. The privacy of the student is one, and public safety is another. If I got a piece of writing or witnessed behavior that I found disturbing, the first thing I would do is seek advice from someone better qualified than me. In the past, on a few occasions, I have called staff in the counseling office and described what I was concerned about without telling the counselor anything that would identify the student. I should add that none of these have been cases where public safety was an issue, but I think the advice still goes. A trained counselor is likely to be better than me at judging the level of threat and advising me on how I might approach the student. Also, if I was worried that the student might harm him/herself or...

Going to the gym soley because we want to be buff may not count as "being good," but one way to come at this question would be to ask whether we have duties to ourselves -- to take care of ourselves properly, for example. There are many ethical perspectives, philosophical and theological, that would say we do. Some of the reasons might have to do only with ourselves; others might have to do with the fact that if we don't take proper care of ourselves, we'll have more trouble carrying out our other duties. Thinking about virtues and vices gives us another perspective on the question. Gluttonly, sloth and their slovenly cousins are traditionally seen as vices -- character traits that we should avoid developing or learn to overcome. Self-control, discipline and their kin generally count as virtues -- traits that a flourishing human being would cultivate and value. Of course, too much self-control and too much discipline are not virtuous; as Aristotle might say, there's a mean to be sought here. But...

A good question. If we go off looking for what all artworks have in common, we may find ourselves baffled. Of course, as many people have pointed out, definitions are generally a lot harder to come by than we naively think. Wittgenstein's example of game is still a good example. Try coming up with a definition that captures all and only the things we call games. Still, it might be possible to say a little more about art. For some time now (at least since 1964) many philosophers have taken a different approach: what makes something a work of art isn't any intrinsic property of the work itself. Roughly and over-simply, an artwork is something that the "artworld" takes to be art. The prototype of this view was introduced by Arthur Danto, who would find the way I've put it far too crude. George Dickie formalized the approach along the lines of the rough formula that I've given. This approach may sound a little silly at first, but it actually explains a good deal. Although it would be hard to draw...

The tricky thing about this issue is to decide what the issue is. Some people seem to want to say that all facts are constructed, but I've never really understood what this is supposed to mean. Let me yank at a few threads and see if any of them are connected to the worry. Some facts depend on our conventions, institutions and so on. A well-worn example: I have a shiny round bit of metal in front of me. As a matter of fact, it's a quarter; it's worth $.25. That really is a fact, but it wouldn't be a fact if we didn't have certain practices, institutions and so on. In at least some sense of "constructed," it's a constructed fact. We also classify things in various ways. Some of those classifications grow out of our interests, beliefs and so on. Classifying music according to genre is relatively benign; classifying people according to the racial categories of apartheid-era South Africa or the antebellum American South is anything but benign. Sometimes we take our classifications to mark deep...

I sometimes call this the "Ronald Reagan argument"; President Reagan was fond of a version of it that, as I recall, had to do with a man in a ditch who might or might not be dead. That also raises a preliminary issue. The question presumably isn't whether the fetus is biologically alive; it surely is. The question (or part of it anyway) is what this living being is. One common way of putting it is to ask whether the fetus is a person -- a being with the same moral standing as you or me. And so I'll put what follows in those terms. The first thing that strikes me is that there's a glitch in the analogy. In the execution case, the being we execute is unquestionably a person who is possibly innocent. In the abortion case, the being is possibly a person, though if a person, then an innocent one. This hardly settles the matter, of course. The reply might be that in either case, we run the risk of taking the life of an innocent person; the position of the word "possible" simply locates...

Since I don't know much about the training and practice of social work, I can't offer a direct answer to your question, but perhaps a couple of thoughts might help you decide what you think the best answer might be. Disciplines like physics, biology and psychology have a fair bit of theory that goes with them, and this theory is a source of philosophical questions. So one question to ask yourself: is there much in the way of theoretical discussion in social work? If so, the various theoretical perspectives may generate philosophical questions. Also, are there controversies within the discipline about just how it differs from related disciplines (e.g., perhaps, clinical psychology)? Are their interesting issues about what, if anything, unifies the various components of the discipline and its practice? If so, once again, there may be worthwhile philosophical questions to pursue. If there is enough such material, then when combined with the ethical and policy issues that social work confronts, it...

Let's set aside the case of people who really have ADD and who use properly-titrated doses of stimulant medication. It's hard to see what the ethical issue could be in those cases. What about people who don't have ADD, but use stimulants to boost attention? There's an amusing old quote from Paul Erdös: a mathematician is a device for turning coffee into theorems. Erdös, I gather, drank a lot of coffee. He also proved a lot of theorems. Was that unethical? I have the impression that in the short term, a good shot of caffeine has about the same effect as Ritalin on one's ability to focus. Add a bit of chocolate, and who knows? So we could ask: is it unethical to eat chocolate and drink coffee before an exam? I think we'd probably agree that it isn't. What's different about Adderall and Ritalin? Intrinsically, the answer may be "not much." All the Adderall in the world won't help me pass a calculus exam unless I actually know the math. Adderall may help me concentrate, but...

This much seems plausible: whether something is beautiful doesn't depend on the actual responses that anyone has. It might be that no one has seen the thing. It might be that everyone who's seen it so far doesn't have the discrimination to appreciate it. It may be that no one who's ever been born or even will be born will have that capacity. All of that could be true, and yet the object might still be beautiful. But does that mean that it's beautiful apart from all possible responses? I don't think so. Does this make sense? Object X is beautiful, but no sentient creature that the universe could possibly produce would find X beautiful. I have a bit of trouble understanding what it would mean here to say that X really is beautiful. And if that's right, it suggests (as many philosophers are inclined to think) that whatever exactly beauty may be, it has something to do with the kinds of responses that the right sort of creature would have upon contemplating it. That's not...

Suppose there were a homunculus. Would it be like me? That is, would it have conflicting motives? Foggy beliefs? Occasional weakness of will? And while we're at it, would it make any difference if the homunculus were located in one compact region of the brain? Or woud it do just as well if it were distributed over different parts of the brain, and perhaps not even clearly confined to the brain alone? What would the homunculus have to be like to do the intellectual job that's at issue? And do we really need a lot of science to know that whatever we are, we aren't simple unities? An utter disunity isn't an agent. But think about the difference between my academic department and a random collection of professors. My department is made up of diverse individuals who don't always agree. But the department has a plan of organization, it deliberates and it acts. The members of the department co-operate to get things done, and the dissenters accept decisions of the department, once they're made, even if they...

Brains, like the rest of us, need rest; I wouldn't be bothered by the occasional hazy day. Simple tips include getting enough sleep, getting some exercise, drinking tea or coffee in moderation -- all the obvious stuff. A little less obvious: some sort of meditation practice. Take a look at http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=1865567 or http://www.news.wisc.edu/13762 for some information on a recent study that might be to the point. You asked: is it necessary to take breaks from intellectual work? The answer I'd suggest is that, necessary or not, it's good. Intellectual activity is valuable, but so are many other things, and a well-rounded life would include a few of them. Listen to some music; socialize with friends; learn to play squash; volunteer at a soup kitchen; cook a tasty meal -- you get the idea. Things like that are valuable for their own sake, and who knows? Time away from thinking may bring you back refreshed and full of ideas. I bet none of this comes...