## 1. Brief Chronology of Life and Works


* 1887, born in Harlesden, now a suburb of London, on December
30.
* 1905, wins a science scholarship to Trinity College,
Cambridge.
* 1911, elected to a fellowship at Trinity; assistant to G. F.
Stout, at the University of St. Andrew's.
* 1914, lecturer at Dundee (at the time a part of St.
Andrew's); during World War I combines lecturing duties with
work in a chemical laboratory for the Ministry of Munitions;
publication of *Perception, Physics, and Reality*.
* 1920, elected Professor of Philosophy at the University of
Bristol.
* 1923, Fellow and Lecturer in Moral Science at Cambridge;
publication of *Scientific Thought*.
* 1925, publication of *The Mind and Its Place in
Nature*.
* 1930, publication of *Five Types of Ethical Theory*.
* 1933, Knightbridge Professor of Moral Philosophy at Cambridge;
publication of *Examination of McTaggart's Philosophy*,
Vol. I.
* 1938, publication of *Examination of McTaggart's
Philosophy*, Vol. II.
* 1953, retires from Knightbridge Professorship; publication of
*Religion, Philosophy and Psychical Research.*
* 1962, publication of *Lectures on Psychical Research.*
* 1971, dies age 83 on March 11 in his rooms in Trinity College,
Cambridge.


## 2. Perception



Broad dealt with perception in several works. He is well known as an
advocate of The Theory of Representational Realism, according to which
our perceptions are *indirect* cognitive transactions with the
world: a perceptual experience of a worldly object is not an immediate
awareness of the object itself, but mediated by an immediate awareness
of a *sensum*. For example, when we see a coin from a certain
angle we are immediately aware of an elliptical sensum.


### 2.1 Naive Realism Delineated



Broad's treatment of perception in *The Mind and Its Place in
Nature* sets off with a careful description of Naive Realism.
And this seems a suitable place to begin our exposition of his theory
of perception. What, then, does Naive Realism say? To
pre-philosophical reflection perception seem to provide us with some
sort of immediate cognitive contact with a physical object, for
example a bell. Consider a situation where we perceive a bell. Compare
this situation with one where we are merely thinking of a bell. There
is a deep difference between the situations. We could "vaguely
express one part of this difference by saying that in the perceptual
situation we are 'in more immediate touch with' the bell
than in the thought-situation" (1925, p. 144).



This rough and ready picture of the Naive 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 a
*part* of its surface; and we are (in that sense) aware only of
the sensible colour of that part but not of its sensible temperature.
Thus perception provides us with a cognitive contact a part of the
apple, but no more. It is, then, strictly speaking only a part of the
apple with which we are *acquainted*; it is only a part of the
apple that is *sensuously manifested* to us. (1925, pp.
148-50.)



Broad does not equate or identify the perception of a worldly object
with the sort of immediate acquainting awareness we have (or seem to
have) with its facing surface (*pace* Chisholm, 1957, p. 154).
He is, on the contrary, careful to point out that the experience
features more than this awareness: it also has an *intentional
content*. Broad designates this the *external reference* of
the experience. By virtue of its external reference the experience of
the apple represents the sensuously manifested constituent as an
integral part of a larger spatio-temporal whole, having a whole array
of properties not sensuously manifested to us. (1925, pp.
150-4.)



What is the nature of the external reference? Broad warns against the
risk of unduly "intellectualising" perception. The
external reference is not reached by *inference* from what is
sensuously manifested; nor is it a *belief* or
*judgement* simply accompanying the awareness of the manifested
constituent: "At the purely perceptual level, people do not have
the special experience called 'belief' or
'judgment'" (1925, p.
 153).[1]


### 2.2 Prehension: the Core Notion of Perceptual Immediacy



When we visually perceive the apple we have an experience in which its
facing red surface is a sensuously manifested objective constituent;
we perceive the apple but are, strictly speaking, only acquainted with
a portion of
 it.[2]
 Broad sometimes prefers to say that we *prehend* the facing
surface (or ostensibly prehend the surface). Now the notion of
prehension is fundamental for an understanding of Naive Realism
as well as Representational Realism, so it seems advisable to briefly
take a somewhat closer look on Broad's account of it.



Broad does not think it is possible to give a strict definition of
phrases such as "*S* prehends *x* as red" or
the equivalent phrase "*x* sensibly presents itself to
*S* as
 red".[3]
 What one can do is to contrast the notion of prehension with other
notions: "The meaning of these phrases cannot be defined, it can
only be exemplified. One thing that is certain is that to prehend
*x* as red is utterly different from *judging* that it
is red or *knowing* that it is red" (1952a, p. 13;
italics in original). For example, in the dark and with my eyes shut I
may very well judge (or know) that the apple is red. But in such
conditions I am "not prehending anything as red, or, what is
precisely equivalent, nothing is sensibly presented to me as
red" (*ibid,* p. 14). Broad notes that this is
substantiated by the fact that a cat or a dog that lacked concepts
might, it seems, have a prehension of something as red even though it
cannot (lacking the requisite concepts) literally know or judge that
it is red.



Prehension is, however, intimately related to knowledge. Broad asks us
to consider a subject "which has appropriate general concepts
and is capable of making judgements and knowing facts". Suppose
this subject prehends a certain particular object as red. Then this
"suffices to enable him to *know* the fact that it is
red. Whether he does or does not *actually* contemplate this
fact at the time depends on various contingent circumstances"
(1952a, p. 14; Broad's
 emphasis).[4]


### 2.3 Naive Realism Dismantled



Naive Realism, properly articulated, says that when we perceive a
physical object it is only a part of the apple that is sensuously
manifested to us: this, and only this, is an objective constituent in
the perceptual situation. Now can this view be defended? Broad does
not think so. He levels several arguments against Naive Realism,
two of which will receive attention here.



*The* *Argument from Hallucination*. Consider a
veridical perception and compare it with a subjectively
indistinguishable delusive or hallucinatory perception, for example
that of a drunkard hallucinating a pink rat. Neither a pink rat nor a
part of a pink rat could be a sensuously manifested constituent in the
delusive situation.



> 
> And, since there is no relevant internal difference between the
> veridical and the delusive perceptual situation, it is reasonable to
> suppose that in *no* case does a perceptual situation contain
> as a constituent the physical object which corresponds to its
> epistemological object, even when there is such a physical object.
> (1925, p. 156; italics added.)
> 



It might be held that the subjective indistinguishability of a
veridical perceptual and a hallucinatory situation *entails*
that the experiences have an identical constitution (and that,
therefore, no material object is a constituent even in the veridical
situation). That is, however, not Broad's position: it
*could* be that a material object *is* an objectively
manifested constituent in a veridical situation (whilst not in the
indistinguishable hallucinatory situation). He holds, however, that
that is not the more reasonable view of the matter.



*The Argument from Illusion*. Consider a person perceiving a
penny from a series of slightly different angles and distances. He
would unhesitatingly assume that in each of the slightly differing
perceptual situations the facing brownish surface of a certain penny
is sensuously manifested to him. But in Broad's view this could
not be so: "If he carefully inspects the objective constituents
of these perceptual situations he will certainly find that they seem
to be of different shapes and sizes" (1925, p. 158). The
objective constituent will in most of the situations seem
*elliptical* rather than circular. This indicates, Broad
claims, that in each perceptual situation, the constituent--the
sensuously manifested item--cannot be the top of the penny. What
happens is that instead of being immediately aware of the circular
surface of the penny (as he takes himself to be) he is immediately
aware of an elliptical item, an elliptical sensum. Hence it is an
elliptical sensum rather than the circular surface of the penny that
is manifested to the subject. The same holds *mutatis mutandis*
when we perceive a white sheet of paper dimly lit by a candle. On
careful consideration it seems clear that the paper looks yellowish to
us. So what we are immediately aware of is a yellowish sensum rather
than the white sheet of paper we are looking at.



In order to bring out at least some of the facets of Broad's
theory it seems advisable to turn to a few of the many objections that
have been raised against it.



(1) It has sometimes been objected that the argument from illusion is
flawed from the start since there is usually no risk of anyone being
taken in by the situation. Broad's response to this objection is
clear. When we look at the penny from an oblique angle it appears
elliptical, but *not* in the sense that anyone is taking in by
the situation, and mistakenly comes to believe or judge that the penny
is elliptical. He is explicit on the point: "'looking
elliptical to me' stands for a peculiar experience, which,
whatever the right analysis of it may be, is not just a mistaken
judgement about the shape" (1923, p. 237). The penny
*sensibly appears* elliptical. And it is this rather than any
supposed tendency to be deceived which creates problem for Naive
Realism (*pace* Austin 1962, p. 26).



(2) It has often been objected that philosophers who have made use of
the argument from illusion that they neglect the fact of
*perceptual constancy*. In his later works Broad admits that
this complaint is justified. However, the "recognition of the
phenomenon of constancy merely shifts the point of application of the
argument" (1947b, p. 112). There is a class of perceptual
experiences of a material object, *X*, where constancy holds;
there is also a class of experiences of *X* where constancy
breaks down. In theory it is logically possible to hold that the
facing surface of *X* is sensuously presented in the perceptual
experiences belonging to the first class but not in the experiences
belonging to the second class. "But, in view of the continuity
between the most normal and the most abnormal cases of seeing, such a
doctrine would be utterly implausible and could be defended only by
the most desperate special pleading" (1952a, p. 9).



What I just said might create the impression that Broad's
phenomenology is rather unsophisticated or crude. On the whole that is
certainly not the case. For example, he points out that "the
visual field" is three-dimensional: "A sphere does
*look* different from a circle, just as a circle looks
different from an ellipse" (1923, p. 290; Broad's
emphasis). And the same holds, *mutatis mutandis*, for the
intimately related characteristics distance and depth; these are also
purely visual characteristics of the visual field (pp.
 295-300).[5]



(The constancy objection to any argument of illusion that appeals to
cases such as the penny seen obliquely is a compelling one, to say the
least. 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 invite
scepticism with regard to the external world. Broad regrets the
sceptical consequences but--given the strength of the case for
the sense-datum theory--does not consider them sufficient grounds
for dismissal. Seeking to preserve as much as possible of the common
sense notion of material objects he argues for the existence of such
objects conceived of as having "primary qualities" such as
shape, size, and position (apart from such properties as electric
charge and mass). (1925, pp. 195-204.) Not surprisingly, he
rejects the idea that material objects have "secondary
properties" such as (phenomenal) redness or (phenomenal)
hotness. Broad is perfectly clear that it does not *follow*
from the fact that such properties are never sensuously manifested in
our perceptual experiences that the material objects causing our
experiences lack these properties: it does remain possible that there
are red and green, hot and cold material objects even though they are
not objects of acquaintance. He argues, however, that there is no
reason to believe that material objects have these properties. (1925,
pp. 205-6.)


### 2.4 Rivalling Accounts of Perceptual Sensations



Now Broad is perfectly clear that the sensum analysis of perception
cannot be established simply by pointing to such phenomena as the
penny seen obliquely. He does not for a moment suppose that it is
possible to logically infer that there is an elliptical sensum from
the proposition that something sensibly appears elliptical
(*pace* Barnes 1945, p. 113). What he claims is that there are
considerations that can be adduced in support of the sensum analysis.
When we look at the penny from the side we certainly *seem* to
be aware of something elliptical. So we certainly seem to have before
our minds something that is elliptical. Obviously "we can quite
well mistakenly *believe* a property to be present which is
really absent, when we are dealing with something that is only known
to us indirectly, like Julius Caesar or the North Pole"
(1923, p. 241; Broad's emphasis). But there are phenomenological
differences between perception and belief (or thought) that seem to
call for different accounts of their nature. In perception we seem to
be dealing with properties that are presented to us. Consider the case
of perceiving a stick half immersed in water. Here



> 
> we are dealing with a concrete visible object, which is bodily present
> to our senses; and it is very hard to understand how we could seem to
> ourselves to *see* the property of bentness exhibited in a
> concrete instance, if in fact *nothing* was present to our
> minds that possessed that property. (1923, p. 241; Broad's
> emphasis; see also pp. 244-5)
> 



I believe that what Broad is driving at here is that perceptual
consciousness has a *presentational nature*, and it is this
that makes it plausible to regard it as involving the literal presence
of objects with various qualities, such as colours in the case of
visual perception, sounds in auditory, etc.



Broad's theory of perception employs an act-object analysis of
sensations. Lest it should be thought that he should be incapable to
think of any alternative account it should be noted that he examines
such an analysis as early as in 1921. G. F. Stout and H. A. Prichard
defended such an alternative (both of whom Broad held in the highest
regard). Their account could be considered an early version of the
*adverbial analysis* of sensations. Broad asks us to consider a
headache. "It is by no means clear that a headache means a state
of mind with a headachy object [i.e. an act with a certain object]; it
seems on the whole more plausible to say that that it is just a
headachy state of mind" (1921b, p. 392). To have a headache is
not to be aware of a headachy object but to feel in a certain
 way.[6]
 The alternative account claims that this holds *mutatis
mutandis* for *any* type of sensation. Thus what is
described as 'a sensation of red' is a unitary state of
mind, and strictly speaking not a state which decomposes into an act
of sensing and a sensed red patch.



Broad provides a fairly thorough discussion of the relative merits of
the adverbial and the act-object analysis. In a nutshell, his
conclusion is that although the adverbial analysis is highly plausible
regarding such mental phenomena as bodily feelings; but it is
implausible when it comes to those of visual and auditory experiences:
the act-object analysis is the more plausible account of such
experiences, in Broad's opinion. (See Broad 1923, pp.
 252-7.)[7]



So much for sensations. What about *sensa*? What are they on
Broad's account? A brief answer must suffice here. Sensa are a
certain kind of transitory particulars, which in the case of visual
perception have such properties as shape, size, colour, etc (1925, p.
 181f.).[8]


### 2.5 The Theory of Representative Perception



The position Broad reaches is the following. A perceptual experience
has a certain intentional content. It differs from thought- and
belief-episodes by including a sensory phase, and it is primarily this
that is responsible for the distinctive phenomenology of perception.
The sensory phase consists of sensations. These decompose into acts of
sensing and object sensed, sensa. A sensum has the phenomenal
properties that the perceived object (sensibly) appears to
have--red or warm or squeaky. An act of sensing a sensum
constitutes an immediate acquainting awareness of the sensum in
question. Although our perceptual experiences *seem* to grant
us an acquaintance with the facing surfaces of material objects, sensa
are the only items we are acquainted with.



The intentional content--the external reference--of a
perceptual experience is in a certain sense *based upon* sensa
(thought *not* in the sense that there is a train of swift
inference leading from the presence of a sensum to the mind to a
certain perceptual belief). (1923, pp. 246-7.) It is this
content which represents the environment as featuring a physical
object so-and-so. Sensa are clearly incapable of carrying such
content. Furthermore, from the very nature of the case the general
notion of physical object "cannot have been derived by
abstraction 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 'put
into' experience. It is best described as an innate principle of
interpretation which we apply to the data of sense-perception"
(1925, p. 217).


## 3. Time



It is possible to distinguish roughly three different phases in
Broad's philosophy of time.



In his (1921a) Broad defends a Russellian theory of time. On this
*Eternalist* view past, present, and future are equally real.
There is nothing ontologically special about the present: the present
is no more real than the past or the future. Accordingly Broad rejects
*Presentism*--the view that only the present is
real--as "mere rhetoric rooted in confusion" (1921a,
p. 226). Presentism has its roots in two errors. One of these errors
is to equivocate between two different senses of
"co-existence". "In one sense the parts of any
related whole co-exist; in another only those events that occupy the
same moment of time co-exist." The whole course of the history
obviously cannot co-exist in the latter sense, but this does not
"prevent it from co-existing in the first". The other
error is to believe that "past, present, and future are
essential characteristics of objects in time in the same way as before
and after are, instead of being analysable into the temporal relations
of states of mind and their objects" (p. 337). Thus Broad
rejects the view that past, present, and future are characteristics
possessed by objects in time. These "characteristics" are
a mere reflection of our subjective perspective on objects. Some of
our mental states are essentially contemporary or
*simultaneous* with their objects, e.g. our immediate awareness
of sense data. Other states are essentially *later* than their
objects, e.g. memories. (Cf. p. 336.) A related, and perhaps more
important facet of Broad's (1921a) position here, is his
adoption of a Russellian analysis of tensed discourse. According to
this analysis--versions of which were later to become
orthodox--the function of tensed verbs or temporal adjectives in
tensed statements is performed in the analysans by a tenseless copula,
IS, and a temporal relation--*earlier than*,
*simultaneous with*, or *later than*. Thus "It is
raining" (or "It is raining now") is unpacked as
"It IS raining at a moment simultaneous with my assertion that
it is raining"; "It has rained" (or "It rained
in the past") is analysed as "It IS raining at a moment
earlier than my assertion that it has rained"; "It will
rain" (or "It will rain in the future") is read as
"It IS raining at a moment later than my assertion that it will
rain". (Cf. p. 331.)



In *Scientific Thought* (1923) Broad rejects the Eternalism he
had defended in his (1921a) article. He now advances a theory that
"accepts the reality of the present and the past, but holds that
the future is simply nothing at all" (1923, p. 66). An
all-important corollary of this *Growing Block Theory* is the
thesis that *temporal passage* is a fundamental feature of
reality. This feature is accounted for in terms of what Broad holds is
the most fundamental form of change, *becoming*. Becoming is
the coming into existence of events.



> 
> Nothing has happened to the present by becoming past except that fresh
> slices 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, the
> essence of a present event is, not that it precedes future events, but
> that there is quite literally *nothing* to which it has the
> relation of precedence. The sum total of existence is always
> increasing, and it is this which gives the time-series a sense [i.e.
> direction] as well as an order. A moment *t* is later than a
> moment *t*\* if the sum total of existence at *t*
> includes the sum total of existence *t*\* together with
> something more. (1923, p. 66-7; Broad's italics.)
> 



An event is *present* by virtue of being the most recent
increment of reality; when the event is present there is, as Broad
says, nothing to which it stands in the relation of precedence. The
event *becomes past* by virtue of acquiring new relations, and
it acquires these relations because the sum total of existence has
been increased by the addition of fresh slices of reality. Temporal
passage is the continual growth of the sum total of
existence.[10]



One of the rivalling views on time Broad discusses is a theory that
might be labeled *The Moving Spotlight Theory*. The Moving
Spotlight Theory accepts the eternalist view that the past, the
present, and the future are equally real; it regards "the
history of the world as existing eternally in a certain order of
events." But it differs from the Russellian theory in that it
accepts presentness as an irreducible feature of reality. So the fact
that the leaf is falling now is not to be analysed as the fact that
the event is simultaneous with an utterance or a specific type of
mental state. The theory claims that presentness is a characteristic
moving 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's
bull's-eye traversing the fronts of the houses in a street. What
is 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. Such
analogies "may be useful for some purposes, but it is clear that
they explain nothing." Firstly, Broad asks us to consider the
successive lighting of presentness--now on one event and now on
another, and so on. This is *itself* an event (or a series of
events), "and ought therefore to be a part of the series of
events, and not simply something that happens to the latter from
outside" (1923, p. 60). If we suppose (as we seem compelled to)
that it is not a part of the original series of events, we are
launched on a vicious regress of time-dimensions. For then the
successive lightning of later events would have to be conceived of as
an event of the *second* order--happening in a
time-dimension different from the original one formed by the series of
first-order events. Secondly he presents a related line of
reasoning--sometimes termed *The Rate of Passage
Argument*: If anything moves, it must move with some determinate
velocity. It will always be sensible to ask 'How fast does it
move?' But since the series along which presentness is supposed
to move is itself temporal, this question becomes: 'how great a
lapse of time 1 does presentness traverse in a unit of time 2?'
Again, a regress of time-dimensions is imminent. (Both of these
arguments receive a clearer formulation and more extensive treatment
in Broad
 (1938).)[11]



Broad's later account of time differs in some significant
respects from both of the earlier accounts. He now views what he calls
*absolute becoming* as "the rock-bottom peculiarity of
time". Absolute becoming manifests itself "as the
continual *supersession* of what was the latest phase by a new
phase, which will in turn be superseded by another new one. This seems
to me to be the rock-bottom peculiarity of time, distinguishing
*temporal sequence* from all other instances of one-dimensional
order, such as that of points on a line, numbers in order of
magnitude, and so on" (1959, p. 766).



This theory has, in Broad's opinion, various advantages. One
advantage mentioned is that it seems to avoid the difficulties with
the *rate* of times passage--difficulties which besets the
Moving Spotlight Theory, but arguably also the Growing Block Theory.
The proposed theory also avoids presupposing that "what has not
yet supervened and what has already been superseded in some sense
'co-exist' with each other and with what is now
occurring," which he views as a defect of the Moving Spotlight
Theory. More interestingly, it avoids what Broad now regards as a
defect 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 that
which is now happening" (1959, p. 767).



(For a book-length study on Broad's philosophy of time, see Oaklander
2020.)


## 4. Free Will



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 associating
free will with moral responsibility. More specifically, he frames it
in terms of the conditions necessary and sufficient for the
applicability of 'ought' and 'ought not' to
actions. Everyone admits, he says, that there is some sense of
'could' in which 'ought' and 'ought
not' entail 'could'. The question revolves around
the sense of 'could' involved here: in precisely what
sense of 'could' is it that if you to ought to perform an
action you could perform that action?



Let us introduce a couple of Broad's stipulative definitions. An
action is *obligable* 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 is *substitutable* if either it
was done but could have been left undone, or was left undone but could
have been done.



An action is *obligable* if and only if it is, in a certain
sense, substitutable. There are several different senses of
'could' and hence of substitutability. Initially Broad
focuses on a sense of 'could' which he calls *voluntary
substitutability*. Consider an action *A* that was not
performed. Suppose that *if* the agent had willed (chosen,
decided) to do *A* she would have done it. In that case
*A* is voluntarily substitutable. Suppose, however, that she
would not have done *A* even if she had willed to do it. If
that's the case, *A* is not voluntarily substitutable.
Broad takes it as evident that voluntary substitutability is a
necessary condition for obligability. That is, he takes it as evident
that,



> 
> *A* is obligable only if *A* is voluntarily
> substitutable.
> 



But is it also a *sufficient* condition? Is it also true
that,



> 
> If *A* is voluntarily substitutable then *A* is
> obligable.
> 



Broad presents an argument in favour of a negative answer, i.e. in
favour of the answer that it could very well be true that someone
would have done an action if he had willed to do it, while it is
nonetheless false that the action is obligable (and hence false that
it is voluntarily substitutable). We are asked to consider a person
who gradually becomes addicted to a drug like morphine. At the earlier
stages he could have willed with sufficient strength to ensure that
the temptation would have been resisted. At the later stages he could
not. "Now at every stage, from the earliest to the latest, the
hypothetical proposition would be true: 'If he had willed with a
certain degree of force and persistence to avoid taking morphine, he
would have avoided taking it'. Yet we would say at the earlier
stages that he ought to have resisted, whilst at the final stages we
should be inclined to say that 'ought' and 'ought
not' have ceased to apply" (1934, p. 200). In other words,
in the later stages we are inclined to hold that the action of
abstaining from morphine has ceased to be obligable, in spite of the
fact that it remains true that *if* he had willed with
sufficient force and persistence to abstain he would have
abstained.



This is Broad's version of an argument sometimes raised against
the classical compatibilist conditional analysis of '*S*
could have done
 otherwise'.[12]
 According to the classical compatibilist analysis this is to be
understood simply as 'if *S* had willed to act
differently *S* would have acted differently'. The
argument shows that this will not do: there are situations where an
agent would have acted otherwise *if* she had willed
differently but nonetheless could not have acted differently simply
because she could not have *willed* to act
 differently.[13]



So voluntary substitutability is not sufficient for obligability: for
an action to be obligable it is not sufficient that the agent would
have acted otherwise if she had willed otherwise. It is also clear
that a further condition must be fulfilled, viz. that she *could
have willed* to act otherwise. This leads us to the question as to
the correct analysis of 'could have willed differently'.
Broad examines a conditional analysis according to which this
means:



> 
> If *S* had willed differently in the past *S*'s
> conative-emotional dispositions and knowledge about *S*'s
> own nature would have been so constituted that *S*, at the time
> when *S* acted, would have willed differently.
> 



Can we perhaps claim an action to be obligable if (a) it is
voluntarily substitutable, and (b) the agent could have willed to do
it, in the specified conditional sense of 'could have
willed'? In other words, is the joint condition of (a) and (b)
sufficient for obligability? Broad rejects this proposal. Suppose the
agent could *not* have willed differently in the past (say six
months ago). It is "surely irrelevant to say that, *if*
he had done so his conative dispositions *would* have been
different at a later stage from what they in fact were then, and that
he *would* have willed otherwise than he then did" (1934,
p. 204). As he points out, at this juncture it is tempting to refer to
still 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 have *acted*
differently' nor 'could have *willed*
differently' can be given a conditional analysis. Having
discarded conditional types of substitutability he turns to
*categorical substitutability*. If an action is obligable it
must be substitutable in a categorical sense. "We must be able
to say of an action, which was done, that it could have been avoided,
in some sense of 'could' which is not definable in terms
of 'would have, if'" (1934, p. 204). Note that the
quoted passage merely states that categorical substitutability is a
*necessary* condition of obligability. It is clear, however,
that Broad also takes it to be a sufficient condition. Thus, his
position is that,



> 
> *A* is obligable if and only if *A* is categorically
> substitutable.
> 



Now precisely *what* is categorical substitutability? As we
shall presently see, Broad claims that this notion is only partly
intelligible.



Categorical substitutability involves a negative and a positive
condition. These are necessary and jointly sufficient for
obligability. The *negative condition* says that the
agent's willing of a certain action was not completely
determined by the nomic and singular conditions which existed at the
time of willing. Not surprisingly, Broad regards an action that merely
fulfils this condition as "an *accident*, lucky or
unlucky as the case may be." Neither the agent nor
"anything else in the universe can properly be praised or blamed
for it" (1934, p. 212; Broad's italics).



The *positive condition* (which must also be fulfilled) says
that the willing of the action is "literally determined by the
agent or self, considered as a substance or continuant, and not by a
total cause which contains as factors *events in* and
*dispositions of* the agent" (1934, p. 214-5;
Broad's italics). Thus a free action is an action that is caused
by the *agent*.



(Note that the view that there are agent-caused effects is a form of
*indeterminism*, since it says that there are certain events
which, although they are indeed caused, are not fixed as a matter of
natural law.)



Broad rejects the idea of agent-causation as unintelligible.



> 
> Now it is surely quite evident that, if the beginning of a certain
> process at a certain time is determined at all, its total cause
> *must* contain as an essential factor another event or process
> which *enters into* the moment from which the determined event
> or process issues. I see no *prima facie* objection to there
> being events which are not completely determined. But, in so far as an
> event *is* determined, an essential factor in its total cause
> must be other *events*. How could an event possibly be
> determined to happen at a certain date if its total cause contained no
> factor to which the notion of date has any application? And how can
> the notion of date have any application to anything that is not an
> event? (1934, p. 215; Broad's emphasis.)
> 



If an agent wills to perform an action at a certain time there must be
a process or event that occurs at that time (or the moment before).
Thus there must be something about the agent that explains why the
willing of the action started precisely at that time rather than at a
slightly earlier or later time. The agent *per se* will not
do.



The position Broad reaches is a version of what is sometimes called
*free will pessimism*: free will is incompatible with
determinism, but there is no viable form of *in*determinism
which leaves room for free will, either; therefore, free will does not
exist--indeed *could not* exist.


## 5. Emergentism



In the last chapter of his monumental *The Mind and Its Place in
Nature* Broad defends an Emergentist position with respect to the
relation between mind and matter: mental properties are, in his
opinion, distinct from physical properties; they are properties that
*emerge* when neurophysiological processes have attained a
sufficiently high degree of complexity. His discussion and defense of
Emergentism features two chief elements. Firstly, there is a
meticulous examination of the concept of emergence as such; secondly,
there is a discussion of whether there is reason to think that
emergent phenomena actually exist.


### 5.1 The Concept of Emergence



Chapter Two of *The Mind and its Place in Nature* is devoted to
a thorough discussion of the notion of *emergence*. In this
chapter Broad is primarily interested in the notion or concept of
emergence *per se*. Thus he is there not so much interested in
the actual existence of emergent phenomena.



An *emergent property* of an aggregate or a whole is, very
roughly, a property that is something over and above the properties of
its parts and the way they are arranged in the aggregate. Broad
prefers to capture this in epistemic terms: an emergent property of a
whole is a property that it is impossible to logically infer from even
the most complete knowledge of the properties of the parts of the
whole. A property that *can* be so inferred is a
*reducible* property. He captures the contrast between emergent
and reducible properties in the following passage.



> 
> Put in abstract terms *the emergent theory* asserts that there
> are certain wholes composed (say) of constituents *A*,
> *B*, and *C* in a relation *R* to each other;
> that all wholes composed of constituents of the same kind as
> *A*, *B*, and *C* in relations of the same kind
> as *R* have certain characteristic properties; that *A*,
> *B*, and *C* are capable of occurring in other kinds of
> complex where the relation is not of the same kind as *R*; and
> that the characteristic properties of the whole *R*(*A*,
> *B*, *C*) cannot, even in theory, be deduced from the
> most complete knowledge of the properties of *A*, *B*,
> and *C* in isolation or in other wholes which are not of the
> form *R*(*A*, *B*, *C*). *The
> mechanistic theory* rejects the last clause of this assertion.
> (1925, p. 61)
> 



'The mechanistic theory' is Broad's label for the
theory 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 mere
result of an immensely high degree of organisational complexity at the
chemical level. The property is, to be sure, nomically dependent on
the chemical level, but it is not a mere resultant of the properties,
relations, and laws operative at that level. If nutrition were a mere
resultant property it would be a *reducible* property; it would
be a property that theoretically *can* be inferred from
features at the chemical level (i.e. the properties, relations and
laws which characterise the constituents in isolation or in other
wholes than the one in question).



Broad's concept of emergence is *weakly* epistemic; his
notion is at heart metaphysical: the epistemic predicament that we are
in vis-a-vis an emergent property reflects an important
metaphysical fact about the property in question, viz. that it is
neither identical with nor constituted by the properties and relations
of the constituents of the whole in question. Thus Broad's
notion of emergence contrasts with a *strongly epistemic*
notion which, very roughly, says that a property is emergent for a
finite epistemic subject when provided with fairly extensive
information about the properties and relations of the constituents the
subject is still unable logically to infer that property from the
information in question although the property in fact *is*
reducible 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 at
least a couple of the many facets of Broad's subtle account.
Firstly, to assume that emergent phenomena exist is to assume that
there are certain phenomena that have "a mysterious quality of
absolute unexplainability". They confidently assert that
"emergence [...] is not an ontological trait inherent in
some phenomena; rather it is indicative of the scope of our knowledge
at a given time" (p. 119). This objection in effect implies that
the metaphysical notion of emergence is dismissed in favour of a
strongly epistemic notion.



Broad stresses that it is an empirical question whether a certain
biological or chemical phenomenon is emergent or not. It is always
possible that what strikes us as an emergent property of a biological
of chemical phenomenon "is due to our imperfect knowledge of
microscopic structure or to our mathematical incompetence"
(1925, p. 81). He also emphasises the practical importance of seeking
to devise reductions for as many properties as possible: that ambition
is "the natural and proper ambition of the scientists"
(1933, p. 268).



It should perhaps also be added that although emergent properties are
indeed "unexplainable" in the sense that that they are not
susceptible to a *reductive explanation*, this does not mean
that they are "unexplainable" in every sense: the
inherence of an emergent property in a particular whole does admit of
an explanation by *nomic subsumption*. We can explain its
inherence in terms of the nature of the whole and an emergent law. The
law of course remain a brute fact. But surely, so do some laws on
*any* account of the world.



Hempel and Oppenheim also object that Emergentists are erroneously
committed to regard the mass or weight of a whole as an emergent
property. (Weight is, of course, a reducible characteristic if there
ever was one!) The reason they give for this is that not even the
weight of a whole can be logically inferred from premises that solely
contain propositions about the weight of the parts; in addition a law
is needed which expresses the weight of the whole as some specific
mathematical function of the weight of the constituent (1948, p. 119).
However, Broad's account clearly anticipates the objection. He
provides the reason why a property such as weight (or mass) should not
be conceived as an emergent property. To "explain the behaviour
of any whole in terms of its structure and components we
*always* need two independent kinds of information. (a) We need
to know how the parts would behave separately. And (b) we need to know
the law or laws according to which the behaviour of the separate parts
is compounded when they are acting together in any proportion and
arrangement" (1925, p. 61; Broad's italics). So to know
about the mass of a whole *X* we need to know the mass of
*X*'s parts *and* the principle according to which
the mass of a whole is determined by the mass of the parts. It is
through experience that we have found that the mass of a whole is the
mathematical sum of the mass of the parts; and it is through
experience we have found that the very same principle (or *law of
composition*) is applicable to any type of whole. To see this,
consider the last clause of Broad's characterisation of emergent
properties above. The clause says that an emergent property of a
certain whole cannot, even in theory, be logically inferred from the
most complete knowledge of the properties of the parts *in
isolation or in other wholes* which are not of the form to be
found the whole in question. Is this applicable to the mass of a
certain whole? Is it applicable to the mass of *X*? No,
certainly not: we *are* able to logically infer the mass of any
whole, including *X*, from knowledge of the masses of parts in
isolation or in wholes other than *X*.


### 5.2 The Reality of Emergence



It is one thing to delineate the contours of the notion of emergence,
another to argue that emergent phenomena actually exist. A wide
variety of phenomena have been held to be emergent. Apart from
consciousness, various chemical and biological phenomena have been
held to be emergent. Broad is not willing to rule out a physicalistic
reduction of chemistry and biology to physics: chemical and biological
phenomena might, he believes, very well be reducible to complex
microphysical processes. In his opinion, however, consciousness is a
different matter. We will turn to consciousness in a moment. When it
comes to biology and chemistry he declares that he does not see any
"*a priori* impossibility in a mechanistic biology or
chemistry" (1925, p. 72). He stresses that it is in practice
enormously difficult to know whether, say, a certain biological
feature such as nutrition is emergent or not. It is evident from what
Broad says that he recognises that the Emergentist stance has its
dangers in that it tends to encourage acceptance of laws and
properties as ultimate and irreducible. There is a danger in this
because, as he notes, reductive explanations have proved remarkably
successful in the past, and there is the possibility that what we take
to be an emergent phenomenon is in fact reducible.


### 5.3 Broad's Knowledge Argument



In the last chapter of his book Broad presents a taxonomy of no less
than seventeen different theories which are "possible
theoretically on the relation between Mind and Matter" (1925, p.
607). By a process of elimination Broad arrives at a more wieldy
number of theories. Two of the remaining rivalling theories are
Physicalism--in Broad's terminology,
"Mechanism"--and Emergentism. Let us now take a
closer look at his case for Emergentism.



Broad adduces a version of what has come to be known as *The
Knowledge Argument* in favour of an Emergentist position with
respect to the place of consciousness in nature. He asks us to assume
that there is a mathematical archangel. The archangel's
mathematical and logical capability is unlimited; in addition he is
gifted with the capacity to perceive "the microscopic structure
of atoms as easily as we can perceive hay-stacks". Now would
there 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 is
> passed through the mixture of the two. The resulting compound contains
> three atoms of Hydrogen to one of Nitrogen; it is a gas readily
> soluble in water and possessed of a characteristic smell." If
> the mechanistic theory be true the archangel could deduce from his
> knowledge of the microscopic structure of atoms all these fact but the
> last. He would know exactly what the microscopic structure must be;
> but he would be totally unable to predict that a substance with this
> structure must smell as ammonia does when it gets into the human nose.
> The utmost that he could predict on this subject would be that certain
> changes would take place in the mucous membrane, the olfactory nerves
> and so on. But he could not possibly know that these changes would be
> accompanied by the appearance of a smell in general or of the peculiar
> smell of ammonia in particular, unless someone told him so or he had
> smelled 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 material
> particles which do not have these qualities themselves, then the law
> of this dependence are certainly of the emergent type. [1925, p.
> 71-2]
> 



The archangel knows all the physicalistic (mechanistic) truths. There
are, however, some truths that he does not know. But if Physicalism
were true the archangel should know *all* truths. Physicalism
is, therefore, false.



If sound, Broad's argument establishes the negative conclusion
that mental phenomena are distinct from neurophysiological processes.
By itself it does not establish the Emergentist position, since the
conclusion is consistent with the truth of, say, Substance Dualism (or
what Broad calls "Dualism of incompatibles").
Broad's overall argumentation for Emergentism, however, also
includes a fairly thorough discussion that seeks to undermine various
lines of argument to the effect that mental properties and physical
properties are *incompatible*, i.e. arguments to the effect
that a material whole such as a nervous system could not possibly have
mental properties. These are arguments that, if successful, would rule
out Emergentism (which is a form of property dualism) in favour of
substance dualism. Broad's case for Emergentism, then, includes
more than his knowledge argument and the simple methodological point
that Emergentism is a more ontologically economical position than
substance dualism.


## 6. Metaphilosophy



Broad distinguishes two chief aspects of philosophical thinking. He
labels these critical philosophy and speculative philosophy.
*Critical philosophy* has two chief tasks, one of which is to
analyse "certain very general concepts such as number, thing,
quality, change, cause, etc." (1924, p. 82). We make use of
these and a whole host of other concepts in science and ordinary life.
Although we are typically able to apply them fairly consistently, we
are not able to analyse them. Nor are we able to state their precise
relations to each other. One task of critical philosophy is to provide
analyses of such concepts. It becomes evident that this is an
important task as soon as it is realized that when we seek to apply
these concepts to odd or exceptional cases we are often uncertain
whether they are applicable. For example, it might be unclear whether
a certain individual with a multiple personality disorder is a
*person* or
 not.[14]
 Such difficulties arise because "we are not clear as to what we
mean by 'being a person'" (1924, p. 83). There is,
therefore, a need for an intellectual discipline that seeks to analyse
and 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 fundamental
propositions. In all our arguments we assume the truth of certain
principles of reasoning. Again, we always assume that every change has
a cause. And in induction we certainly assume something--it is
hard to say what--about the fundamental 'make-up' of
the existent world" (1924, p. 84).



The second task of critical philosophy is to examine these and other
fundamental assumptions; it is "to take these propositions which
we uncritically assume in science and daily life and to subject them
to criticism"
 (*ibid*.).[15]



In order to analyse a proposition we must seek to attain a clearer
grasp of the concepts featured in the proposition. Thus the analysis
and criticism of a proposition depends on the analysis of concepts.
And *vice versa*: by reflecting on the propositions in which a
certain concept occurs we clear up the meaning of it.



Now, critical philosophy is one part or aspect of philosophical
thinking. But critical philosophy "does not include all that is
understood by philosophy. It is certainly held to be the function of a
philosopher to discuss the nature of Reality as a whole, and to
consider the position and prospects of men in it" (1924, p. 96).
This aspect of philosophical thinking is *speculative
philosophy*.



Speculative philosophy seeks to work out a view of reality as a whole
by taking into account the whole range of human
experience--scientific, social, ethical, aesthetic, and
religious: "Its business is to take over all aspects of human
experience, to reflect upon them, and to try to think out a view of
Reality 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 for
philosophical reflection--an exceedingly important sort of
reflection 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 it
*synopsis*. Let us take a somewhat closer look at this. The
plain man as well as the professional scientist or scholar



> 
> conduct various parts of their living and their thinking in relatively
> watertight compartments; turn blind eyes to awkward, abnormal, or
> marginal facts; and skate successfully on the surface of the
> phenomena. But the desire to see how the various aspects of experience
> hang together does arise from time to time in most intelligent men,
> and philosophers are persons in whom it is especially strong and
> persistent. Now I understand by *synopsis* the necessary
> preliminary towards trying to satisfy this desire, viz. the deliberate
> viewing together of aspects of human experience which are generally
> viewed 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 for
the 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 latent
philosophical problems: "It is synopsis, revealing *prima
facie* incoherence, which is the main motive to philosophical
activity" (1958, p. 121; cf. 1947a, p. 16). And it is clearly
only after we have discovered and successfully addressed these
problems that we may lay claim to a satisfactory picture of reality as
a whole.



Broad gives several examples of how synopsis is featured in
philosophical thinking. One of these is taken from the free will
problem (1947a, pp. 8-11). In a very condensed form the main
facts germane to the problem are these: (i) When we consider a
situation in which we did a certain action, we are quite convinced
that we could have done otherwise: we could have performed an
alternative action. On reflection it seems clear that
'could' is used in some sense that is not analysable in
terms of 'would have, if'. (ii) Our moral judgments seem
to presuppose that a person who in fact willed to do a certain action
could have willed otherwise. (iii) Given the past, the actual
situation and the laws of nature it seems impossible that anything
other should have happened than what in fact did happen. If so, how
can our volitions be other than completely determined? (iv) It is
difficult, then, to reconcile the notions of moral responsibility with
the view that our volitions are completely determined.



The problem of free will is discovered when we look at (i) and (ii) in
the light of (iii) In other words, the very problem is discerned only
because we have envisaged these facts together, i.e. because we have
taken a synoptic view of the facts.


## 7. Other Philosophical Work



*Probability and Induction*. Broad dealt with problems
regarding induction--"the glory of science and the scandal
of
 philosophy"[16]
 --in a number of papers. A sample of his work on the subject is
the two early papers entitled "The Relation Induction and
Probability" (1918, 1920). Broad's focus is on the nature
and justification of inductive inferences. He argues that unless the
conclusions of such inferences are cast in terms of probability they
all involve a formal fallacy. However in order to arrive at justified
inductive conclusions we cannot simply place our confidence in any of
the known principles of probability theory (such as those we employ in
reasoning with regard to artificial situations with bags containing
red 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 and
non-tautologous" (1918, p. 389). Broad attempts to articulate
the supreme principle needed. He argues at length that the principle
needed says not simply (and crudely): "there is uniformity in
nature." It also says that the particular things or substances
in the world subject to uniformity belong to a variety of *natural
kinds*. Indeed, on closer reflection it is clear that "[t]he
notions of permanent substances, genuine natural kinds, and universal
causation are parts of a highly complex and closely interwoven whole
and any of them breaks down hopelessly without the rest" (1920,
p. 44). Notable also is the logic of conditions that Broad's
formulates in "The Principles of Demonstrative Induction"
(1930b). He may quite well be the first who gave systematic attention
to this
 topic.[17]



*Causation*. Causation is dealt with in several of
Broad's works (beginning as early as his first book,
*Perception, Physics and Reality*, 1914). The logic of
conditions formulated in (1930b) would square well with some version
of the regularity theory of causation. However, in several works
rather penetrating criticism of that theory is offered (e.g., in Ch.
3, 1925). In (1933) he tries to formulate an alternative. Causality
involves something between regularity and logical entailment; there is
some form of necessity, but not the kind involved in logical
entailment. The latter is an absolute necessity. Consider the
proposition 'Anything that has shape would have
extension'. This is not only true in the actual world: it is
true in all logically possible worlds; there could not have been a
world in which there were things that had shape but lacked extension.
Now compare the proposition 'Anything that had inertial mass
would have gravitational mass'. There could not be things in the
*actual* world which had inertial mass but lacked gravitational
mass. But there could have been a world in which there were things
that had inertial mass but lacked gravitational mass. The kind of
necessity involved here is a contingent necessity. (Cf. 1933, pp.
242-3.) Broad is, however, rather skeptical of the alternative
he has sought to formulate. He says with characteristic candor that
the notion of a necessity which is contingent might very well be
"sheer nonsense".



*The Unconscious*. Broad examines issues surrounding "the
unconscious" at some length in *The Mind and Its Place in
Nature.* His objective is to capture a (literal) sense in which an
experiential mental state may be said to be unconscious. Although he
rejects the view that the notion of unconscious experience is
incoherent he argues that there is no compelling reason to assume that
such actually exist. The assumption that there is a pure neural state
with causal properties that are similar to those of a certain mental
state is sufficient to explain the facts.



*Time Consciousness*. Broad gave two different accounts of
temporal
 experience.[18]
 Consider an experience of a succession of notes:
*Do*-*Re*-*Mi*. The earlier account
claims that what one is aware of is *temporally extended*; it
includes the present note as well as the immediate past ones:
"what is sensed at any moment stretches a little way back behind
that moment" (1923, p. 348). What you are aware of when
*Mi* is present extends to, and so includes the past notes
*Re* and *Do*. On the later account we are strictly
speaking aware only of the present note, *Mi*. But this
awareness is coupled with a representation of the past notes under a
distinctive mode of temporal presentation. Broad introduces the notion
of *presentedness*. When you are aware of the present note
*Mi* it is apprehended as possessing the maximum degree of
presentedness, while the note *Re* is represented as possessing
a less degree of presentedness, and *Do* a still lesser
degree.



*The Philosophy of Parapsychology*. Parapsychology is the study
of apparently paranormal events. Broad seeks to capture the nature and
importance of the subject. A paranormal event is an event that seems
*prima facie* to conflict with what he terms a *basic
limiting principle*, i.e. a principle that "we
unhesitatingly take for granted as the framework within which all our
practical activities and our scientific theories are confined"
(1953, p. 7). There are a number of such principles. One says that an
event cannot begin to have any effect before it has occurred; another
that knowledge of the future is impossible except in certain familiar
manners, such as by inference from present facts. The basic limiting
principles seem to "cover very satisfactorily an enormous range
of well-established facts of the most varied kinds". We are
therefore "naturally inclined to think that they must be
all-embracing" (p. 8). And for that reason these principles are
of immense importance to our overall view of the universe and our
place in it. But just in proportion to this importance is "the
philosophic importance of any well-established exception to
them" (p. 9).



*The Philosophy of Religion*. Broad's writings on this
subject have the virtues characteristic of everything he
wrote--thoroughness, lucidity and fairness. Broad rejects the
traditional arguments for the existence of God. His essay
"Arguments for The Existence of God" (1939) features a
searching critique of the cosmological argument and the ontological
argument (regarding the argument from design, Broad states that he has
nothing to add to the critique of Hume and Kant). He argues *inter
alia* that the conclusion of the cosmological argument has a
consequence that few would stomach, viz. that there are no really
contingent facts, although many facts "seem contingent relative
to our ignorance". As to the ontological argument Broad claims
that the notion of the greatest possible being is "meaningless
verbiage" unless the properties that are essential to the notion
of God admit of an *intrinsic maximum*. He argues that that
condition is not satisfied. Therefore, the argument is "wrecked
before ever it leaves port." In the latter part of his essay
Broad turns to the argument from religious experience (in what might
quite well be the first systematic treatment of the argument). The
position he takes is, in a nutshell, this. If a person has an
experience that she takes to be an experience of an *X*, it is
reasonable to conclude that she did experience an *X* unless
there is some positive reason to think otherwise. To refuse to apply
this principle to religious experiences is not reasonable. The
question then is whether there is some positive reason to think that
religious experiences are delusive. But on reflection it turns out
there is no such reason. We may therefore conclude that religious
experiences are probably veridical.



*Ethics*. In writings up to, and including *Five Types of
Ethical Theory* Broad assumes that ethical sentences express
judgements. He favours an intuitionist or non-naturalist analysis. In
later works, however, he is undecided: it could be that ethical
sentences express judgements; but, alternatively, they may express
emotions or commands. Notwithstanding this, Broad fruitfully (and
indefatigably!) classifies alternative types of ethical theories,
uncovers their underlying assumptions, and draws out their logical
consequences. As to normative ethics, Broad does not think the
utilitarian view that there is one and only one criterion of right
action can be sustained. Neither did he accept hedonism. There are, he
argues, other bearers of intrinsic value and disvalue than pleasure
and pain.



Broad made many specific contributions to the subject of moral
philosophy that could be mentioned. Here are three of these. (i) There
is a fine discussion of psychological egoism (a discussion where he,
as he quite correctly says, gives the psychological egoist "the
longest possible run for his
 money").[19]
 After Butler there is hardly need of further nails in the coffin of
that theory. But because of its shrewd and perceptive treatment of
human motivation Broad's essay is nonetheless of remaining
interest. (ii) In *Five Types* Broad tentatively suggests a
version of what is currently known as the *The Fitting Attitude
Analysis* of value. He writes with characteristic cautiousness:
"I am not sure that '*X* is good' could not
be defined as meaning that *X* is such that it would be a
fitting object of desire to any mind which had an adequate idea of its
non-ethical characteristics" (p.
 283).[20]
 (iii) In an early paper (1916), Broad seems to anticipate ideas
gaining currency much later among moral and political philosophers. He
suggests that the goodness of a complex state of affairs is not merely
a function of the value of its parts. Its goodness is restrained by a
condition which says, roughly, that the best possible state of affairs
is one where the producers of some good are as nearly as possible
identical with the enjoyers of that good. The principle says that the
contributors to a cooperative scheme is bound by a duty of
*fairness*. The principle Broad alludes to could be seen as an
early version of the Principle of Fairness (later to be found in the
work of H. L. A. Hart and John
 Rawls).[21]



*The History of Philosophy*. Broad wrote on a variety of
scattered figures in the history of philosophy, e.g. Bacon, Butler,
Berkeley, Newton, Leibniz and Kant. A notable work is *Five Types
of Ethical Theory* that (alongside careful discussions of such
philosophers as Spinoza and Hume) includes a pioneering study of Henry
Sidgwick's *The Methods of Ethics* (1874), written at a
time when Sidgwick's work had passed into nearly complete
oblivion. Noteworthy here also are the two posthumously published book
length studies on Leibniz and Kant, respectively. Both of these
contain shrewd philosophical comment that are of general philosophical
interest.