Philosophy Final Exam - Hobbes, Hume & Liberalism [PDF]

If you're writing at a typical university student handwriting speed of 20–30 words per minute, then in 22.5 minutes, you should be able to write: ​ At 20 WPM:​ 20 × 22.5 = 450 words ​ At 25 WPM (average):​ 25 × 22.5 = 562 words ​ At 30 WPM:​ 30 × 22.5 = 675 words I...

If you're writing at a typical university student handwriting speed of 20–30 words per minute, then in 22.5 minutes, you should be able to write: ​ At 20 WPM:​ 20 × 22.5 = 450 words ​ At 25 WPM (average):​ 25 × 22.5 = 562 words ​ At 30 WPM:​ 30 × 22.5 = 675 words Instructions There are two Parts to the exam. Each part contains four subsections. You are to respond to the prompt in each subsection (for a total of eight responses). Each Part should take approximately 90 minutes and each subsection approximately 22:30 minutes. Responses will be graded on their degree of mastery of the course material. Criteria include relevance for responding to the prompt, accuracy, completeness, clarity, and explanatory sophistication. Responses must be legible to be marked, but because they are extemporaneous no consideration will be taken of structure, style, proofing, etc. Part I: Human Nature and Morality and Political and Social Philosophy Section I.a: A New Model of Human Nature 1.​ Hobbes developed and defended a version of psychological egoism as the proper account of human nature. Present the doctrine of psychological egoism, illustrated with two examples, and explain why Hobbes advocated for it in the Leviathan. Thomas Hobbes’s account of human nature, as articulated in Leviathan, is grounded in a doctrine known as psychological egoism. This is the view that all human actions, even those that appear altruistic or virtuous, are ultimately motivated by self-interest. According to Hobbes, human beings are not naturally moral, rational, or cooperative. Instead, they are driven by appetites and aversions—an innate desire to maximize pleasure and minimize pain. As such, every action can be traced back to an underlying self-centered motivation. Hobbes presents psychological egoism not as a normative claim (how people ought to act), but as a descriptive truth about human behavior (how people actually behave). In Leviathan, he argues that human beings, left to their natural condition without laws or authority, would inevitably fall into conflict. The root cause of this conflict is not any defect in reason, but rather the constant competition for limited resources, status, and security—all driven by self-interest. Hobbes’s psychological egoism thus becomes the foundation for his political philosophy, which is structured around the need to constrain egoistic impulses through a powerful sovereign authority. An example Hobbes uses to illustrate psychological egoism is the behavior of individuals in the state of nature. In this pre-political condition, where there is no overarching government or authority, people are free to do as they please. However, this freedom leads to a condition Hobbes famously calls “war of every man against every man,” where life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Even seemingly cooperative behaviors—like forming alliances—are, in Hobbes’s view, temporary and instrumental. People only join forces to better protect themselves or to defeat a common enemy. Once that interest disappears, so does the alliance. Thus, even cooperation is reduced to a strategy for self-preservation, reinforcing the core claim of psychological egoism. Another powerful illustration comes from Hobbes’s discussion of charity and acts of mercy. According to psychological egoism, even these acts are ultimately self-interested. For instance, when someone donates to the poor or helps a stranger, it may appear altruistic on the surface. However, Hobbes would argue that such actions stem from a desire for social approval, inner satisfaction, or a sense of superiority. In Leviathan, he writes that “no man gives but with intention of good to himself,” meaning that people perform good deeds because they anticipate some kind of personal benefit—be it praise, gratitude, or even the pleasure of feeling virtuous. Thus, Hobbes reinterprets traditional moral behavior as a form of disguised self-interest. Hobbes defends psychological egoism as a necessary basis for his political theory. If human beings were naturally benevolent or moral, there would be no need for an absolute authority to maintain peace and order. But since everyone is driven by self-interest, Hobbes believes that a strong sovereign—what he calls the Leviathan—is required to enforce laws, adjudicate disputes, and suppress violent impulses. The social contract, according to Hobbes, arises not out of a moral commitment to justice, but from a rational calculation: each person gives up some of their freedom to a sovereign in exchange for security and protection. This agreement is entirely self-interested, yet it forms the foundation of civil society. Ultimately, Hobbes’s advocacy of psychological egoism serves two purposes in Leviathan. First, it explains the natural condition of mankind and the inevitability of conflict without political authority. Second, it justifies the creation of an absolute sovereign to channel and restrain human self-interest toward social stability. In doing so, Hobbes provides a pessimistic but pragmatic view of human nature: people are not angels, but neither are they beyond control. With the right institutional design, their egoism can be managed for the collective good. But that management must start from an honest understanding of what truly motivates human behavior—and for Hobbes, that motivation is always the self. 2.​ Mandeville followed Hobbes in understanding humans to be non-rational brutes who followed their passions. Explain how Mandeville believes that conventional morality is created by politician and leaders of a society as outline in the Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue. Bernard Mandeville, building on Hobbes’s foundation, advances a provocative and satirical account of human nature in The Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue. Like Hobbes, Mandeville views humans not as rational, moral agents, but as fundamentally passionate creatures governed by self-interest, vanity, and pride. He denies the existence of innate moral virtues and instead argues that conventional morality is an artificial construct, invented by clever politicians to tame the unruly passions of individuals for the benefit of civil society. Mandeville begins by asserting that all human beings are motivated by the desire for praise and the fear of shame. Even the most altruistic-seeming behaviors—charity, kindness, modesty—are, in his view, performed out of a desire to be admired by others. This core belief—that vanity is the primary driver of human behavior—leads Mandeville to question the authenticity of moral virtue. If people act morally only because they want to be praised, then morality itself cannot be natural; it must be a fabrication. According to Mandeville, morality is created by politicians and leaders who recognize that society cannot function if individuals are entirely free to act on their passions. In the earliest stages of human society, people were aggressive, greedy, and lustful. These behaviors led to constant conflict and instability. The solution, Mandeville suggests, came from crafty rulers who realized that they could control the masses by manipulating their vanity. By praising behaviors that benefited the group—such as honesty, generosity, and modesty—and shaming those that caused harm—like theft or violence—leaders redirected individual passions toward socially useful ends. Mandeville writes that these early politicians “called every thing which was beneficial to society, virtuous,” and “branded the most generous and self-denying Actions with the Name of Vice, if they were prejudicial to the Publick.” In other words, virtue and vice were defined not according to some natural moral order, but by what served the interest of the state or the group. The virtues we now take for granted, like humility or self-restraint, were originally just tools of social control, invented to pacify passionate creatures and maintain peace. This argument is central to Mandeville’s famous claim that private vices yield public benefits. When individuals act from selfish motives, such as the desire for luxury, recognition, or power, their actions often result in prosperity, innovation, and economic growth. For example, a businessman may pursue profit out of pure self-interest, but in doing so, he creates jobs, improves goods and services, and contributes to the wealth of society. Thus, Mandeville flips the traditional moral view: what appears immoral on the individual level can be beneficial on the societal level. Importantly, Mandeville does not claim that moral norms are useless. On the contrary, he believes that the illusion of morality is necessary for social cohesion. If people were to realize that all virtue is artificial, they might stop behaving virtuously altogether, leading to chaos. Therefore, part of the politician’s genius lies in convincing people that moral standards are real and sacred, even though they are ultimately fabricated. The deception of morality is, for Mandeville, a noble lie—a socially necessary illusion that keeps the peace. Through this framework, Mandeville offers a deeply cynical but insightful analysis of social life. He argues that our most praised behaviors are rooted in vanity, and that leaders manipulate this desire for praise to structure society. Moral virtues are not natural traits but constructed norms designed to restrain and redirect our self-love. In this sense, Mandeville’s work is both a critique of traditional morality and a defense of the functional role that vice and illusion play in maintaining order. Ultimately, Mandeville’s account reveals a complex interplay between human passion, social utility, and political power. Morality is not the product of reason or divine command—it is a political tool, crafted by those in power to regulate behavior and ensure the survival of the group. In stripping morality of its divine or rational grounding, Mandeville challenges us to consider the uncomfortable truth: our virtue may be little more than well-managed vice. Section I.b: A New Form of Morality  3.​ David Hume famously stated the “Reason is, and ought to be, the slave of the passions.” Explain what he meant by this and how it is reflected in his account of the principles of morality. David Hume’s assertion that “Reason is, and ought to be, the slave of the passions” is one of the most striking and influential claims in modern moral philosophy. In making this claim, Hume is arguing against the traditional view—held by thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, and even Descartes—that reason is the supreme faculty in human nature and should govern the passions. Instead, Hume inverts this model. He contends that reason is merely instrumental and that it plays a subordinate role to the passions, which ultimately drive human action. This claim has profound implications for Hume’s account of morality, which he believes arises not from reason but from sentiment, emotion, and human nature. To understand Hume’s claim, we must first understand his broader philosophical view that humans are not primarily rational creatures. In contrast to the rationalist tradition, Hume embraces empiricism and psychological associationism. He sees the mind as a bundle of perceptions that are linked together by habits of thought and feeling, rather than by logical deduction or rational insight. In Hume’s framework, reason is a faculty that helps us understand the relations between ideas and the causes and effects among impressions. But reason cannot tell us what to value or what to pursue—it cannot motivate us to act. Passions, or feelings, do that. This view is captured in Hume’s famous line from his Treatise of Human Nature: "Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions, and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them." Here, Hume is saying that reason can determine how best to achieve a goal, but it cannot determine the goal itself. For example, reason might tell us that taking a certain path will help us escape danger more quickly, but it is the passion of fear that motivates us to escape in the first place. Without passion, reason has no direction. This claim feeds directly into Hume’s moral theory. For Hume, morality is not grounded in reason, but in sentiment. When we make moral judgments—when we say something is good or bad, right or wrong—we are not making rational discoveries. Instead, we are expressing our feelings. In A Treatise of Human Nature and later in An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, Hume argues that moral distinctions are derived from a moral sense or feeling, a kind of sentiment of approval or disapproval that we experience in response to character traits or actions. Hume maintains that our moral evaluations are grounded in human sympathy—our natural capacity to feel with and for others. When we observe benevolence, honesty, or courage, we feel a kind of approval because those traits contribute to the well-being of others and society as a whole. When we observe cruelty or deceit, we feel disapproval. These emotional responses are the foundation of morality. Importantly, these responses are universal and part of our shared human nature, even if individuals differ in their particular judgments. For Hume, reason alone could never produce moral motivation. Knowing that something is wrong, through pure reason, does not move us to act unless we also feel that it is wrong. In this way, Hume's philosophy places morality firmly in the domain of human psychology, not abstract metaphysics or divine command. Morality arises from human nature, especially from our emotional and social faculties. Hume’s moral sentimentalism stands in stark contrast to rationalist moral theories like those of Kant, who believed that moral law could be derived from pure reason. Hume rejects this. For him, no amount of rational deduction can generate a moral “ought” from a purely factual “is.” This is known as Hume’s Law or the is-ought problem. It reinforces the idea that reason, at best, organizes or clarifies what our passions and sentiments already value. In sum, Hume’s claim that reason is the slave of the passions reflects his deeply naturalistic and empirical approach to human nature. He sees moral values not as discovered through reason, but as generated by the emotional responses of human beings living in society. Far from being a flaw, this is what gives morality its human significance. Our feelings of approval and disapproval, our sense of sympathy, and our natural social tendencies form the real foundation of moral life. 4.​ Explain Hume’s conception of natural benevolence and how it gives rise to genuine moral properties., Hume’s Conception of Natural Benevolence and the Origins of Genuine Moral Properties David Hume, in his Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals and A Treatise of Human Nature, provides an account of morality that is grounded not in reason but in human nature—specifically in our sentiments and social instincts. One of the key concepts in Hume’s moral philosophy is natural benevolence, a universal human disposition to care for others. According to Hume, natural benevolence plays a central role in generating what we call “genuine moral properties,” or true moral values that are shared and recognized across society. These moral properties are not objective features of the world accessible through reason but are nonetheless real in the sense that they reflect shared human sentiments and behaviors that promote social cohesion and human flourishing. At the core of Hume’s theory is the belief that morality arises from sentiment rather than reason. He famously claims that reason alone can never motivate action or ground moral judgment. Reason may inform us about facts, relationships between ideas, or cause and effect, but it cannot tell us what we ought to do or feel. Moral evaluations come from our emotional responses to people and actions, which Hume groups under the umbrella of moral sentiments. Among these sentiments, natural benevolence is crucial. Hume believes that humans are naturally disposed to feel concern for others—especially their families, friends, and communities. This concern is not derived from education, religion, or custom, though those can strengthen or refine it. Rather, it is an innate, psychological disposition. Hume describes benevolence as a “natural affection” that causes us to care about the welfare of others, take pleasure in their happiness, and feel distress at their suffering. Importantly, Hume argues that benevolence evokes moral approval across societies and cultures. When we observe someone acting with kindness or generosity—helping a stranger, sacrificing for a loved one, or promoting the public good—we feel a sentiment of approval. These approving feelings are not arbitrary; they are remarkably consistent and universal, arising from human nature. The fact that benevolence consistently evokes this moral sentiment shows that it is not just a private preference but the foundation of moral value. In other words, benevolence gives rise to genuine moral properties because it is the kind of trait that society recognizes and rewards, and that individuals admire and strive for. For Hume, moral properties are real, even though they are not metaphysically objective like physical properties. They are real in the sense that they emerge from shared human reactions, social utility, and natural tendencies. Hume’s famous standard of morality is “usefulness and agreeableness”—to self and others. Benevolence is useful and agreeable to others; it makes societies function better and brings people happiness. Therefore, traits and actions that express benevolence are morally good because they are beneficial and produce pleasure or harmony in human relationships. In this way, Hume connects natural moral sentiment with social utility. We morally approve of what is useful to others and to society, and what is pleasing or agreeable to us as social beings. Benevolence is useful in that it helps establish trust, cooperation, and mutual support; it is agreeable because we enjoy the presence of kind people and the happiness that flows from compassionate acts. Thus, benevolence is both the source of moral approval and one of its most admirable traits, forming the basis of moral praise across cultures and historical periods. Furthermore, natural benevolence allows for moral education and refinement. Even though Hume believes we are naturally benevolent, he does not deny that this disposition can be strengthened or weakened by culture, habit, and reflection. Through our social interactions and experiences, we come to recognize the moral value of benevolence more clearly and cultivate it more deliberately. This is how moral properties become stable and widespread—through the reinforcement of natural sentiments in communal life. In conclusion, Hume’s conception of natural benevolence is central to his sentimentalist account of morality. Benevolence is a natural, universal human sentiment that gives rise to genuine moral properties because it consistently evokes approval, promotes social well-being, and aligns with our emotional nature. In grounding morality in benevolence and sentiment rather than in reason or divine command, Hume offers a powerful, human-centered theory of ethics that continues to influence moral philosophy to this day. Section I.c: Foundations for Political Authority 5.​ Spinoza, Locke, and even Hobbes all believed that the state and political authority emerged from the state of nature. They differed, however, on the limits that ought to be imposed on political authority as it emerges from the state of nature. Compare and contrast Spinoza, Locke, and Hobbes on the limitations of political authority while explaining why those limitations follow from their views of human nature. The Limits of Political Authority in Spinoza, Locke, and Hobbes Spinoza, Locke, and Hobbes all construct their political theories beginning with the concept of a state of nature—a hypothetical condition of human existence prior to the formation of organized government. Although they share this starting point, their conclusions about the limits of political authority diverge sharply, and those divergences are rooted in fundamentally different views about human nature and the role of reason, passion, and freedom in society. Thomas Hobbes: Unlimited Sovereign Authority Hobbes, writing in Leviathan, presents one of the most extreme views on political authority. He argues that human nature is dominated by passions and self-interest. In the state of nature, individuals are guided by psychological egoism—the belief that all human actions are motivated by self-interest, even when they appear altruistic. Without a central authority, this condition leads to a state of war: a “war of all against all,” where life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” To escape this chaos, individuals enter into a social contract, surrendering their natural liberty to an absolute sovereignin exchange for security. Hobbes insists that the authority of the sovereign must be unlimited and indivisible, because any limitation would risk a return to the anarchy of the state of nature. The sovereign cannot be overthrown, held accountable, or resisted, because doing so would violate the covenant that secures peace. This unlimited authority follows directly from Hobbes’s bleak view of human nature: since people are driven by fear and desire, only overwhelming power can restrain them. Hobbes does not trust reason or virtue to guide citizens; instead, stability requires absolute control. John Locke: Limited Government and Natural Rights Locke agrees that the state of nature is a condition of equality and freedom, but he rejects Hobbes’s characterization of it as necessarily violent. For Locke, humans are rational and capable of recognizing and respecting natural law—a moral code discoverable by reason that forbids harming others in their life, liberty, or property. The purpose of government, then, is to protect natural rights, not to overpower its subjects. Individuals enter into a social contract not to escape a warlike state of nature, but to more effectively secure their rights and arbitrate disputes. For Locke, political authority is necessarily limited: it must preserve the life, liberty, and property of its citizens, and it loses its legitimacy if it violates those rights. If the government becomes tyrannical, the people have a right to revolt. This limitation on authority stems from Locke’s more optimistic view of human nature. While still recognizing the self-interest and partiality of individuals, Locke sees humans as capable of reason, cooperation, and moral understanding. Therefore, governments must be held accountable and constrained by laws and constitutions, ensuring they serve the public good. Baruch Spinoza: Natural Power and Rational Freedom Spinoza provides a distinct twist in this conversation by redefining both the state of nature and political authority in terms of power (potentia) and reason. He agrees with Hobbes that humans in the state of nature are guided by desire and emotion, but unlike Hobbes, he does not see the state of nature as necessarily chaotic or destructive. Instead, he views it as a realm of natural right (jus naturale), where everyone has the right to do whatever they can—might makes right. When individuals form a state, they transfer their power to a collective body, but only insofar as it aligns with their rational self-interest. For Spinoza, the true power of the state is the collective rational agreement of its members. Therefore, authority is limited by the reason of the populace. If the government issues commands that contradict the common good or suppress rational freedom, it will lose power—not by right, but by fact. People simply won’t obey. Spinoza’s emphasis on freedom as rational self-determination leads him to advocate for tolerance, free speech, and minimal interference in personal thought. He believes that human flourishing comes from understanding, and so the state must allow individuals the intellectual freedom necessary for rational life. Comparison and Contrast All three thinkers begin with the idea that political authority arises through a social contract from the state of nature. However, they differ profoundly in how far that authority should extend. ​ Hobbes believes authority must be absolute, because people are irrational and selfish. ​ Locke believes authority must be limited, because people are rational and possess inalienable rights. ​ Spinoza believes authority is naturally limited by collective power and reason; it cannot extend beyond what people rationally accept. These positions are not just political but metaphysical—each thinker’s view of authority flows directly from their anthropology: what kind of beings humans are, how they act, and what they need to live well. Thus, the limits of political authority are, for all three, consequences of deeper philosophical commitments about human nature. 6.​ Explain the difference according to Locke between the dissolution of the social contract and the dissolution of government and why the first is impossible for a free people to do but the second is not. Locke on the Dissolution of Government vs. the Dissolution of the Social Contract John Locke’s political philosophy, as outlined in his Second Treatise of Government, is grounded in his understanding of the state of nature, the social contract, and the nature of legitimate political authority. A central distinction in Locke’s political thought is between the dissolution of government and the dissolution of the social contract. While the former is not only possible but sometimes necessary, the latter, according to Locke, is impossible for a free people to do. Understanding why Locke draws this distinction requires examining both the foundations of political society and the limits of governmental power. The Social Contract: A Rational Creation For Locke, the social contract arises when individuals, existing in the state of nature, consent to form a political community. In the state of nature, people are governed by natural law and possess natural rights—life, liberty, and property. However, because individuals are biased and partial judges in their own cases, conflict and insecurity are inevitable. Thus, people agree to form a civil society through a social contract, entrusting a political body with the power to protect and enforce their natural rights. This initial contract—the social contract—is not made with a specific government but with one another. It is a collective agreement to create a political society, one with laws and institutions dedicated to the preservation of rights. Once established, this society then forms a government, an apparatus to carry out the functions required by the community (e.g., making laws, enforcing them, and resolving disputes). The Dissolution of Government According to Locke, governments are created by the people to serve the ends of the social contract, and when they fail to do so—when they act contrary to the trust placed in them—they can and should be dissolved. The dissolution of government happens when the political authority: ​ Violates or undermines natural rights (especially property), ​ Rules without the consent of the people (e.g., becomes tyrannical), ​ Suspends or ignores the laws, ​ Attempts to enslave or destroy the society it governs. In such cases, the people retain the right to revolution. Locke famously asserts that the people are the ultimate sovereign, and since governments are trustees, not masters, they can be removed and replaced when they breach that trust. This is not an act of destroying society itself but of reconstituting the governing apparatus. The people retain their political union and simply form a new government more consistent with their natural rights and the purposes of the contract. The Dissolution of the Social Contract: Why It’s Impossible In contrast, the dissolution of the social contract would mean reverting back to the state of nature—a situation Locke sees as both irrational and undesirable. Once people have freely and rationally consented to leave the state of nature and form a political society, they cannot legitimately unmake that decision without returning to a condition of insecurity and partial justice. Doing so would be akin to renouncing the very principles that uphold freedom, rights, and order. Locke argues that free people cannot willfully choose lawlessness, since the purpose of freedom is not to do whatever one wishes but to live under laws that protect one’s rights. The social contract is a rational, moral act designed to enhance human freedom through cooperation, law, and shared governance. Therefore, the dissolution of society itself—of the political community formed by the social contract—is contrary to reason and self-preservation, and Locke does not recognize it as a legitimate option. Freedom as Living Under Law Locke’s belief that the social contract cannot be dissolved is also tied to his definition of freedom. True liberty, in Locke’s eyes, is not doing anything one pleases but living under laws one consents to. A people who choose to dissolve the social contract would be throwing away the very structure that makes such freedom possible. This would not be an assertion of liberty, but a regression to a dangerous and uncertain existence where no impartial authority exists to resolve conflicts or protect rights. Conclusion In summary, Locke draws a firm line between the dissolution of government and the dissolution of the social contract. Governments are tools of the people, instituted to uphold the social contract; when they fail, they can be replaced. But the social contract itself—the foundation of civil society—is a permanent and rational commitment to living under law and protecting rights. To dissolve that contract would be to embrace anarchy, which Locke sees as incompatible with freedom, reason, and the preservation of mankind. Thus, the first is an act of political renewal, while the second is an abandonment of civil life altogether, and therefore impossible for a truly free people to choose. Section I.d: Liberalism, Colonialism, Slavery, and Patriarchy 7.​ Present the evidence adduced for Locke’s colonialism in class and evaluate that evidence. To what degree, if any, was Locke complicit in the colonialist attacks on Indigenous Peoples and how does this impact the legacy of his moderate liberalism? Be sure to support your answers with clear and cogent reasons. Locke, Colonialism, and the Legacy of Moderate Liberalism John Locke is widely known as a foundational figure in the liberal tradition, advocating for natural rights, government by consent, and private property. Yet, his legacy is increasingly scrutinized for its potential complicity in colonialism, particularly in the dispossession and violence toward Indigenous Peoples. In class, several key pieces of evidence were presented suggesting Locke’s direct and indirect support for colonial projects, raising important ethical and philosophical questions about the coherence and integrity of his liberalism. Evidence for Locke’s Colonialism First, there is Locke’s involvement with the Carolina colony. Locke served as secretary to the Lords Proprietors of Carolina and helped draft the Fundamental Constitutions of Carolina in 1669. This document protected hereditary nobility and sanctioned absolute authority over enslaved persons, laying out a political framework favorable to landed elites and plantation slavery. While Locke’s precise role in shaping these clauses is debated, his administrative position suggests at least passive complicity in endorsing the colonial structure that justified and enabled slavery and Indigenous dispossession. Second, Locke’s theory of property, as developed in The Second Treatise of Government, provides intellectual support for settler colonialism. Locke claims that property arises when an individual “mixes their labor” with nature. However, he adds a crucial condition: land must not spoil and there must be “enough, and as good, left in common for others.” Yet he also introduces money as a means of circumventing spoilage, legitimizing accumulation. This theory enabled Europeans to claim vast tracts of land as “improved” simply because they engaged in agriculture or built fences, whereas Indigenous Peoples—whose land-use practices often didn’t involve enclosure or European-style farming—were seen as leaving land “unused.” In this way, Locke’s theory rationalizes the seizure of Indigenous land on the grounds that it was being put to better use. Furthermore, Locke’s framing of the state of nature includes suggestive language. He sometimes equates Indigenous societies with being in the state of nature, which for him is pre-political and insecure. He contrasts this with civil society, implying that those who have not formed political contracts—especially property-protecting governments—lack full rights to land or sovereignty. This Eurocentric assumption supported colonial justifications that Indigenous Peoples were not fully political beings, and thus their land could be justifiably claimed by more “civilized” nations. Evaluating the Evidence The evidence paints a troubling picture. While Locke’s political theory champions liberty and rights, the scope of those rights was implicitly exclusionary. His liberalism seems designed for a certain kind of subject: the propertied European male. Even if Locke did not explicitly call for violence against Indigenous Peoples, the framework he constructed made such violence seem rational, justified, or even necessary for the expansion of civilization and commerce. However, some defenders of Locke argue that his theory contains internal resources that could be used to critique colonialism. For instance, Locke’s emphasis on consent as the basis of political authority could be interpreted as condemning the imposition of foreign rule on Indigenous communities. Similarly, his insistence that natural law binds all humans could suggest that Indigenous Peoples deserve the same rights as Europeans. In this view, the problem lies not in Locke’s theory per se but in how it was selectively interpreted or applied. Yet this defense has limitations. Locke’s economic interests in colonial companies, such as the Royal African Company and the Bahama Adventurers, indicate that his philosophical commitments may not have fully aligned with his material and political activities. Moreover, the silences and ambiguities in his work—especially regarding non-European peoples—suggest that the boundaries of liberal subjecthood were always racialized and hierarchical, even if not overtly so. Impact on Locke’s Legacy The implications for Locke’s legacy are significant. His liberalism helped shape modern democratic thought, constitutionalism, and human rights. But it also helped justify a world order grounded in empire, dispossession, and racial hierarchy. Moderate liberalism’s claim to universality is compromised if it cannot account for the historical exclusions it has enabled or justified. For contemporary readers, the challenge is to critically engage Locke—not to discard him wholesale, but to wrestle with the tensions in his work. Doing so can help uncover both the foundations of exclusion in modern political thought and the possibilities for a more inclusive, anti-colonial liberalism. 8.​ We saw that the prejudice of patriarchy and misogyny prevented late 18th century liberals from accepting the equality of men and women. Compare and contrast how Mary Astell and Mary Wollstonecraft used education to overcome the prejudice of patriarchy. Education as Liberation: Astell and Wollstonecraft Against Patriarchy In the late 17th and 18th centuries, the liberal movement emphasized individual freedom, rationality, and natural rights. Yet these principles were applied unequally, and patriarchy and misogyny persisted, especially in the exclusion of women from political life, rational agency, and education. Both Mary Astell and Mary Wollstonecraft recognized that the roots of gender inequality were intellectual and structural, and that education was the most powerful means of challenging the prejudices of their time. While their approaches shared key philosophical insights, they differed in method, tone, and their engagement with liberalism. Mary Astell: Education for Rational Integrity and Pious Autonomy Mary Astell (1666–1731) is often considered the first English feminist. In her work A Serious Proposal to the Ladies, Astell argues that women are as rational as men and that denying them education is a failure of both logic and morality. She wrote in the late 17th century, a period in which Cartesian rationalism and early liberal ideas were spreading—but also one in which women were denied access to meaningful education and rational autonomy. Astell begins by attacking the social conditioning of women, pointing out that they are trained to focus on beauty, charm, and obedience, rather than truth, reason, or self-governance. This, she argues, renders women susceptible to male control in marriage and society. Astell’s solution is educational: women must be trained to use reason, both to understand their own worth and to live virtuously. She famously asked, “If all Men are born free, how is it that all Women are born slaves?” Astell’s rhetorical use of liberal language—freedom, slavery, reason—was a sharp rebuke to male theorists who excluded women from their universal claims. For Astell, education serves to reorient women toward God, reason, and self-respect, and away from vanity and dependence. She proposed establishing female-only academies, a radical idea that would allow women to cultivate their intellect without interference from men or society’s distractions. However, Astell was also deeply religious and did not demand equality in political terms. Her vision was moral and metaphysical, focused on self-perfection through education and piety, rather than political revolution or public engagement. Mary Wollstonecraft: Education for Citizenship and Equality Mary Wollstonecraft (1759–1797), writing nearly a century later, built on Astell’s legacy but went further. In A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), she integrated liberal political theory—especially Rousseau, Locke, and the French Revolution—with a feminist critique of gender norms. While Astell sought education for virtue and internal freedom, Wollstonecraft sought education for full equality—especially as citizens of the modern nation-state. Wollstonecraft agreed with Astell that the inequality of women is socially produced. She too attacked the way women were trained to be charming, submissive, and weak. She argued that such conditioning destroys female virtue and makes women “more artificial, weak characters” than they would naturally be. Unlike Astell, Wollstonecraft emphasized the public and political consequences of denying women education. She saw women’s exclusion as not only immoral but dangerous for republican society, where all citizens must be rational, independent, and virtuous. For Wollstonecraft, education was the foundation of moral and civic equality. She demanded that girls be given the same public education as boys so they could become reasoning, self-respecting citizens, not dependent wives or passive adornments. Her critique extended even to liberal thinkers like Rousseau, who argued that women should be educated to please men. Wollstonecraft’s powerful response was that virtue has only one standard, and if men truly value reason, they should support the education of women in equal measure. Comparison and Conclusion Both Astell and Wollstonecraft understood that education is the foundation of autonomy, and both attacked the misogynistic prejudice that treated women as naturally inferior. Astell focused on spiritual and rational independence, drawing from religious and metaphysical arguments. Wollstonecraft, more radical and political, grounded her argument in republican citizenship and public equality. Astell envisioned education as a retreat from society—a way for women to gain internal strength and divine understanding. Wollstonecraft, by contrast, envisioned co-educational schools and women participating in the civic world. Astell’s audience was upper-class Anglican women; Wollstonecraft’s was broader and more political. In both cases, though, education is revolutionary: it transforms women from objects of male desire into subjects of reason, capable of moral and political judgment. Their work reveals the inconsistency of early liberalism, and their demands remain central to any feminist critique of modernity. Part II: Cumulative Issues Section II.a: The Metaphysics of Substance 1.​ Locke famously claimed that substance was a something-I-know-not-what. What did he mean by that and why did he come to that conclusion? How does Berkeley exploit this conclusion when he advocates for immaterialism in the First Dialogue? Locke’s “Something-I-Know-Not-What” and Berkeley’s Argument for Immaterialism In An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, John Locke developed a theory of ideas that significantly shaped early modern philosophy. Central to his metaphysics was the concept of substance, which he famously described as a “something-I-know-not-what.” This phrase captures Locke’s deep skepticism about our ability to know the underlying nature of things. Although he affirmed the existence of substance as the support of observable qualities, he also acknowledged that we have no clear or distinct idea of substance itself, only of the qualities that substances exhibit. This ambiguity becomes a crucial point of attack for George Berkeley, who in the First Dialogue of Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous, exploits Locke’s notion to argue that material substance is incoherent—and, by doing so, supports immaterialism, the doctrine that only minds and ideas exist. Locke’s Substratum: A Necessary Hypothesis Locke observed that our experience furnishes us with bundles of simple ideas—such as color, taste, shape, and motion—which consistently appear together. For example, we associate yellow, malleable, heavy, and metallic with gold. However, Locke noted that we cannot conceive how these simple ideas could exist independently or "float freely" without something to support them. As a result, he hypothesized the existence of a substratum, or substance, to which these qualities belong and in which they inhere. In Book II, Chapter XXIII of the Essay, Locke writes:  “We accustom ourselves to suppose some substratum, wherein they do subsist, and from which they do result; which therefore we call substance.” (§1) Yet Locke concedes that we have no idea of this substratum itself. What we call “substance” is simply a presumed support for the qualities we perceive—it is not itself perceivable or conceivable apart from those qualities. He admits: “[Substance] is something, I know not what.” (§2) Thus, Locke’s account of substance is epistemologically weak: we have no clear or distinct idea of what substance is, even though we believe it must exist to support the qualities we perceive. Berkeley’s Exploitation of Locke’s Conclusion George Berkeley picks up on this weakness in Locke’s account and presses it into a powerful critique of materialism. In the First Dialogue between Philonous (Berkeley’s spokesperson) and Hylas (a defender of material substance), Berkeley accepts Locke’s own account of substance as a something-I-know-not-what and uses it to show that the very concept of material substance is incoherent. Berkeley attacks the two key claims of materialism: 1.​ That sensible qualities (like color, taste, heat, etc.) inhere in a material substance. 2.​ That this material substance is insensible, unthinking, and passive. Berkeley’s Incoherence Argument observes that Locke’s substratum is defined merely as something lying under qualities, but this metaphor—“lying under”—has no literal or intelligible meaning. If it is taken literally, it leads to an infinite regress of supports. If it is metaphorical, then it needs to be translated into intelligible terms, which Locke (and Hylas) fail to provide. Hence, material substance becomes an empty, incoherent term—a non-concept. Berkeley’s Contradiction Argument further targets materialism by showing that it results in a contradiction. According to Berkeley, all sensible qualities are ideas whose esse est percipi—to be is to be perceived. But materialism claims that these ideas (sensible qualities) exist in an unperceiving, passive material substance. Berkeley responds that this makes no sense: If a substance has an idea, then it must perceive it.​ If material substance is by definition unperceiving, then it cannot have ideas.​ Therefore, material substance cannot be the bearer of sensible qualities. This contradiction undermines the entire doctrine of materialism. Berkeley concludes that only perceiving things—minds and ideas—exist, because they do not require the incoherent notion of an unthinking substratum. Immaterialism and the Collapse of Substance For Berkeley, the entire Lockean project of grounding knowledge in ideas leads directly to immaterialism. He accepts Locke’s theory of ideas, but rejects material substance as both unknowable and contradictory. Where Locke postulates substratum to explain the union of qualities, Berkeley eliminates the need for it altogether. Instead, sensible things are simply bundles of ideas perceived by minds, and there is no “thing” beneath them. In sum, Locke’s “something-I-know-not-what” exposes a conceptual gap in the theory of substance. Berkeley exploits this to argue that material substance is not just mysterious—it is meaningless. This shift not only challenges materialism, but also leads to a radical new ontology where only minds and their ideas are real. 2.​ Compare and contrast the vitalist materialism of Margaret Cavendish and the monadology of Gottfried Leibniz. Explain why, despite all the prima facie similarities between them, we considered the former to be a kind of continuous materialism and the latter to be a kind of spiritual atomism. Vitalist Materialism vs Spiritual Atomism: Cavendish and Leibniz on Substance Margaret Cavendish and Gottfried Leibniz offer two metaphysical systems that, at first glance, share key features: both reject Cartesian mechanism, both emphasize a kind of animacy or perception in all of nature, and both offer alternatives to the traditional notion of matter as passive and inert. Yet despite these similarities, their metaphysical foundations differ radically. Cavendish’s system is a continuous materialism, grounded in the view that only matter exists and that all matter is perceptive and self-moving. By contrast, Leibniz’s monadology is a form of spiritual atomism, where non-material, windowless substances called monads compose reality. The distinction lies in how each philosopher understands the nature of substance, the source of motion, and the structure of the physical world. Cavendish’s Vitalist Materialism Cavendish rejected the mechanical philosophy espoused by Descartes, particularly the idea that impulse motion—motion transferred between inert bodies—could account for all natural phenomena. In her Philosophical Letters (PL I.30), she systematically eliminated all metaphysical accounts of motion transference. She demonstrated that motion cannot be transferred as a part, a mode, or by occasionalism, leaving only one plausible explanation: bodies imitate one another’s motion through internal perception and agency. This conclusion led her to develop a vitalist materialist ontology. Cavendish proposed that all matter is composed of three types: inanimate, sensible, and rational. Sensible and rational matter are self-moving, with rational matter being the purest and most free. Thus, all motion originates within matter itself, and all matter is alive, perceptive, and reasoning—a view known as panpsychism. Importantly, there are no voids in nature; Cavendish advocates a plenum—the idea that the universe is a continuous, uninterrupted mass of thinking matter. This gives her system a monistic structure: only one type of substance—matter—exists, and it explains both physical and mental phenomena. Leibniz’s Monadology: Spiritual Atomism Leibniz also rejected Cartesian mechanism, but his solution took a very different path. Where Cavendish saw matter as self-moving and perceptive, Leibniz denied the reality of physical matter altogether. Instead, he argued that monads—non-extended, immaterial, indivisible substances—are the true substances. Monads are spiritual atoms: they do not occupy space, cannot be divided, and are completely self-contained. All change in monads results from their internal appetitions, not from interaction with other entities, since monads are “windowless” and do not causally interact. To explain the apparent coordination of the world, Leibniz posited a pre-established harmony set in place by God. Each monad contains within itself a complete concept of the universe, as perceived from its unique perspective, and its internal developments unfold in perfect synchronization with every other monad. Thus, causal interaction is only phenomenal; it appears that things interact, but all changes are determined from within. Leibniz’s system is atomistic because the universe is composed of discrete, individual units (monads), and it is spiritualbecause monads are not material in any sense. Matter, motion, and even physical objects are phenomenal appearancesresulting from the perceptions of monads. Monads are the only real entities. Continuous Materialism vs Spiritual Atomism Despite their shared critiques of mechanical philosophy and emphasis on perceptive activity throughout nature, Cavendish and Leibniz arrive at opposite metaphysical conclusions. Cavendish’s system is continuous—everything is made of matter, which is alive and in constant motion, forming a plenum. Her materialism avoids any spiritual or immaterial substance and does not divide reality into discrete, independent units. Leibniz, on the other hand, constructs a discrete ontology of immaterial atoms—monads—that are logically, metaphysically, and spatially independent. Reality, for Leibniz, is composed of an infinity of infinitesimal, spiritual points, each containing a representation of the entire universe. This makes his system spiritual atomism, in which everything physical is reduced to the internal, mental activities of monads. In short, Cavendish sees matter as both the stuff and the agent of reality—conscious, continuous, and unified. Leibniz sees reality as entirely non-material, made up of self-contained, spiritual units that only appear to interact. What unites them superficially—panpsychism, rejection of mechanistic impulse motion, and internal principles of motion—is ultimately grounded in opposing views of what substances are and what kinds of things can be real. Section II.b: The Problem of Philosophical Skepticism 3.​ Explain how Cartesian hyperbolic doubts differ from the veil-of-perception skepticism that animated Berkeley’s and Hume’s thinking about sensitive knowledge. Cartesian Hyperbolic Doubts vs. Veil-of-Perception Skepticism in Berkeley and Hume René Descartes, George Berkeley, and David Hume each grappled with foundational questions about human knowledge and the reliability of sense perception. While all three philosophers took skeptical concerns seriously, they engaged with different forms of skepticism. Descartes is best known for introducing hyperbolic doubts, which seek to undermine all traditional foundations of knowledge in order to build them anew. In contrast, Berkeley and Hume’s skepticism centers around the veil-of-perception, the concern that ideas or perceptions interpose between the mind and the world, preventing any direct access to external reality. These two approaches differ significantly in their motivation, scope, and philosophical consequences. Cartesian Hyperbolic Doubts In his First Meditation, Descartes uses hyperbolic doubt as a method of radical skepticism to test the foundations of knowledge. Hyperbolic doubt is not an ordinary or practical doubt; it is an exaggerated, systematic form of doubt that seeks to eliminate all beliefs that could possibly be false. Descartes’s method focuses especially on the traditional foundations of knowledge: sense perception and intellectual intuition. First, he introduces the Dream Doubt, which argues that there is no way to be certain whether one is awake or dreaming. Because dreams are phenomenologically indistinguishable from waking experiences, any sensory belief could be illusory. Thus, sensory experience cannot serve as a reliable foundation for knowledge. Next, Descartes presents the Evil Demon Doubt—a hypothetical being with godlike powers who could deceive us into believing falsehoods. This doubt attacks not only the senses but also intellectual beliefs, including mathematics and logic. If such a demon existed, Descartes argues, we could never be sure of even the simplest truths. Both doubts are designed to strip away all assumptions and rebuild knowledge on a firm, indubitable foundation. In Meditation Two, Descartes finds such a foundation in the Cogito—"I think, therefore I am"—which survives even hyperbolic doubt. From this indubitable truth, he proceeds to reconstruct knowledge based on the clarity and distinctnessof perceptions guaranteed by a benevolent God, thereby eliminating the skeptical threat posed by the evil demon and the dream hypothesis. Veil-of-Perception Skepticism: Berkeley and Hume Unlike Descartes, Berkeley and Hume do not aim to eliminate skepticism through rational foundations. Instead, they engage directly with a particular kind of epistemological skepticism: the Veil-of-Perception Problem. This is the idea that our perceptions mediate all our access to the world, and thus, we cannot know the world as it is in itself—only as it appears to us. This skepticism arises from the representational theory of ideas embraced by both Locke and Descartes: that ideas are mental representations of external objects. Berkeley responds to this problem by collapsing the distinction between appearance and reality. In his Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous, he argues for idealism—that only minds and ideas exist—and for immaterialism, the claim that material substance is incoherent. Berkeley famously insists that “esse est percipi” (to be is to be perceived). Since all that exists are ideas in minds, and since God always perceives everything, there is no “veil” separating us from reality—our perceptions are reality. In this way, Berkeley resolves veil-of-perception skepticism by eliminating the notion of material substance entirely. Hume, on the other hand, does not eliminate skepticism but embraces it and offers a naturalistic solution. He adopts representational realism, where ideas (or perceptions) mediate all knowledge. Hume distinguishes between impressions(vivid, original perceptions) and ideas (faint copies of impressions). His Copy Principle asserts that all ideas must derive from impressions. When applied to concepts like causation or substance, Hume finds that many philosophical notions—such as Locke’s idea of substratum—lack any corresponding impression and are thus illegitimate. This leads to Hume’s veil-of-perception skepticism: since we only ever experience ideas, we have no basis for asserting the existence of external objects or necessary causal connections. Hume’s response is not to refute skepticism, but to suggest that human nature compels us to believe in a stable world despite the philosophical problems. In this way, Hume offers a skeptical solution, not a rational resolution. Key Differences ​ Motivation: Descartes’s skepticism is methodological, aiming to discover certainty. Berkeley and Hume respond to a metaphysical concern about the nature of perception and reality. ​ Scope: Descartes’s hyperbolic doubt targets all beliefs, including logical and mathematical ones. Veil-of-perception skepticism focuses specifically on the limitations of sensory knowledge and the epistemic gap between mind and world. ​ Resolution: Descartes resolves skepticism through clear and distinct ideas and the guarantee of a benevolent God. Berkeley resolves skepticism by denying the existence of material substance, while Hume offers a naturalistic acceptance of our cognitive limitations. In summary, Cartesian hyperbolic doubt is an exaggerated, foundational attack on all beliefs to rebuild certainty, while veil-of-perception skepticism questions whether we can know anything about a world beyond our perceptions. Where Descartes eliminates doubt through rationalism, Berkeley redefines reality, and Hume accepts the limits of reason and leans on human psychology to explain belief. Together, these approaches reflect evolving responses to skepticism in early modern philosophy. 4.​ Explain Hume’s skeptical problem concerning causal reasoning and how it arises for him. Hume’s Skeptical Problem Concerning Causal Reasoning and How It Arises David Hume’s skeptical challenge concerning causal reasoning stands as one of the most important developments in early modern philosophy. It arises from his broader epistemological framework—particularly his empiricism, his copy principle, and his psychological associationism—and targets the notion of necessary connection, which is central to understanding causality. Hume’s analysis ultimately reveals that while causal reasoning is essential to human life, it cannot be grounded in reason or justified through rational argumentation. The Concept of Causality and Its Assumptions Traditionally, causality was understood as a metaphysical relation between events: a cause must precede its effect in time, it must be contiguous in space, and, most importantly, it must be necessarily connected to its effect. That is, the cause and effect must be bound together in such a way that the effect must follow the cause. Hume targets this last feature—necessary connection—and asks: where does this idea come from? The Copy Principle Hume’s Copy Principle states that every simple idea must be derived from a prior impression. Ideas, for Hume, are faint copies of sense impressions—vivid experiences we have through our senses or through internal experiences like passions. If we cannot trace a particular idea back to an impression, then that idea is not legitimate and is, at best, an empty name. Hume applies this principle to the idea of necessary connection. He asks: do we have any impression of necessary connection between cause and effect? When we observe one billiard ball striking another, for example, we see one motion followed by another. But we do not perceive anything like a force, a bond, or any power that connects them in a necessary way. All we observe is a constant conjunction—that similar causes have been followed by similar effects in the past. Thus, no impression corresponds to the idea of necessary connection, and so, according to the Copy Principle, the idea itself is not legitimate. The Identity Principles and Skeptical Arguments To reinforce this point, Hume employs a series of Identity Principles, based on Leibniz’s Law: 1.​ If two things are distinct, then they are different. 2.​ If they are different, then they are separable. 3.​ If they are separable, then they can exist independently of one another. Using this reasoning, Hume shows that a cause and effect are distinct events. They can be imagined separately and do not contain one another in their concepts. Therefore, they are separable, and thus can exist independently. This means that there is no necessary connection between any cause and any effect. This leads Hume to formulate several skeptical arguments: ​ Against Particular Causal Claims: If a cause and its effect are separable, then the effect does not necessarily follow from the cause. There is no logical or metaphysical necessity linking them. ​ Against the Causal Maxim: The idea that every event must have a cause cannot be rationally proven, because the existence of a cause is separable from the existence of an effect. ​ Against the Future Resemblance Thesis: We cannot rationally infer that the future will resemble the past because the past and future are distinct and separable. Thus, we have no rational grounds to expect that the same cause will always produce the same effect. The Impression of Necessary Connection Despite all this, Hume does acknowledge that we do have an idea of necessary connection. Where does it come from? His answer is psychological rather than metaphysical. Through custom and habit, we come to associate certain events with others. When we see one event regularly followed by another, our mind is compelled—almost against our will—to expect the second event when the first occurs. This feeling of compulsion is what Hume identifies as the impression of necessary connection. So while there is no objective necessary connection in the events themselves, there is a subjective necessity—a feelingof necessity in our minds. This is what Hume calls a skeptical solution: rather than resolving the skeptical problem by refuting it, he shows that our belief in causation is psychologically natural, even if it cannot be rationally justified. Conclusion Hume’s skeptical problem concerning causal reasoning arises from his empirical epistemology, particularly the Copy Principle. He demonstrates that necessary connection, a central component of causality, has no origin in sense experience and thus cannot be a legitimate idea. All that we ever perceive is the constant conjunction of events, and our belief in causation arises from habit, not reason. While this undermines any rational justification for causal inference, Hume concludes that human beings are naturally disposed to believe in causality anyway—an insight that marks a pivotal shift from rationalist to naturalist philosophy Section II.c: The Foundations of Morality 5.​ Hume and Mandeville famously maintained the justice was an artificial virtue. What did they mean by that and how is that supposed to be contrasted with the natural virtues and vices each advocate. Hume and Mandeville on Justice as an Artificial Virtue Both Bernard Mandeville and David Hume famously argued that justice is not a natural virtue but rather an artificial virtue. This distinction forms a central part of their ethical and political theories, especially in how they conceive of morality arising not from reason or divine command but from human nature, passions, and social necessities. Natural vs. Artificial Virtues To understand what it means for justice to be an artificial virtue, it is first necessary to distinguish between natural and artificial virtues as defined by Mandeville and Hume. For Hume, natural virtues are those traits that arise spontaneously from human nature and are immediately approved by others. They include qualities such as benevolence, kindness, charity, friendship, and compassion. These are immediate and instinctive responses to the needs or sufferings of others. Human beings, through their social and sentimental nature, naturally feel sympathy with others and approve of those who help relieve suffering or promote happiness. These virtues do not require any special social institutions or agreements to be valued—they are universally praised and are rooted in natural human sentiment. Mandeville, writing in The Fable of the Bees and the Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue, similarly holds that humans are driven primarily by their passions—not reason—and that moral behavior arises not from some innate rational moral sense but through the manipulation of passions by society. For him, natural traits are self-interested passions like pride, greed, lust, and envy. While these are typically called vices, Mandeville argues that they are foundational to human action, economic productivity, and even social cooperation. Justice as an Artificial Virtue In contrast, justice—as both Hume and Mandeville emphasize—is not natural. People are not naturally just. Rather, they act in self-interest, and left to their own devices, will prioritize themselves, their families, or their allies. According to Hume, justice involves restraining natural impulses in accordance with general social rules, particularly those related to property, contracts, and the equitable treatment of others. For example, the concept of property rights is not something that humans are born understanding or respecting. Instead, rules of justice—such as not stealing, not breaking promises, or upholding fair exchange—only emerge once people begin to live in groups and depend on one another for their well-being and survival. In this context, justice is constructed: it is a social invention aimed at solving problems of coordination and cooperation that arise in communal life. Hume famously argues that justice is artificial in origin but not arbitrary. It arises from the necessities of human life, especially in conditions of moderate scarcity and limited generosity. In other words, if humans were wholly benevolent, or if all goods were infinitely abundant, justice would be unnecessary. But because resources are limited and human concern rarely extends beyond a narrow circle, rules of justice are needed to regulate behavior in ways that promote stability and mutual advantage. Mandeville, likewise, presents justice as a fabrication of politicians and religious leaders. In the Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue, he claims that rulers, realizing the need to control selfish passions for the good of society, coined concepts like “virtue” and “vice” to flatter or shame people into obedience. They manipulated human pride and desire for social approval, teaching citizens that acting justly was noble, while acting selfishly was shameful—even though self-interest drives all actions. Thus, justice and morality are useful illusions, engineered to keep order in society. Comparison of Their Views Both thinkers agree that justice does not flow from innate moral sense or divine reason. It is socially constructed, motivated by self-interest, and dependent on context. However, there is a notable difference in tone and implication: ​ Hume’s view is more optimistic. He sees artificial virtues like justice as essential, valuable, and even admirable. Although not natural, justice is based on human nature and ultimately rooted in sympathy and the utility of social cooperation. His approach grounds morality in shared human sentiments, giving it a secular but meaningful foundation. ​ Mandeville’s view is more cynical. He emphasizes that public virtue arises from private vice. For him, justice is a political tool, a con orchestrated by elites to control and harness natural human passions. Nevertheless, he still acknowledges its functional necessity in building society. Conclusion Hume and Mandeville both maintain that justice is an artificial virtue, meaning it is not derived from human nature alone but constructed through social experience and necessity. While Hume emphasizes the positive social functionsof justice and sees it as a rational response to natural limitations, Mandeville underlines its origin in manipulation and the exploitation of pride and vanity. Their shared commitment to this distinction challenges more traditional, rationalist accounts of morality and lays the groundwork for modern theories of moral and political development. 6.​ If Hobbes, Mandeville, and Hume all believe that the basis for moral distinctions lies in the human passions, why is Hume the only moral realist in the group, why are Hobbes and Mandeville considered moral skeptics or even moral nihilists? Hobbes, Mandeville, Hume: Moral Realism vs. Moral Skepticism Thomas Hobbes, Bernard Mandeville, and David Hume all place the human passions at the core of their moral theories, yet their conclusions about the nature of morality diverge significantly. While Hobbes and Mandeville are often considered moral skeptics or even moral nihilists, Hume is typically regarded as a moral realist. The key to understanding this difference lies in the respective ways each thinker approaches the objectivity and universality of moral distinctions. While Hobbes and Mandeville focus on how morality arises from social constructs or self-interest, Hume contends that moral judgments can be objective and based on human nature, thus allowing for a robust, realistaccount of morality. Hobbes: Moral Skepticism and the State of Nature For Hobbes, the foundation of morality lies in human self-interest and the passions, particularly the desire for self-preservation. In Leviathan, Hobbes argues that in the state of nature, individuals are motivated purely by their own desires and fears, with no inherent sense of justice or morality. Life, in this state, is characterized by a "war of all against all" where moral distinctions are irrelevant because there is no higher authority to enforce them. This situation leads Hobbes to a moral skepticism: morality does not exist naturally and only emerges when humans come together to form a social contract. Hobbes’s moral theory is built on contractualism—people agree to establish rules of justice to avoid the chaos of the state of nature. This means that Hobbes views morality as artificial—created by the human need for self-preservation in a society structured around mutual agreements. Since morality is a social contract, it lacks independent objective valueoutside of the human-made structures that enforce it. Because morality depends on the social contract, Hobbes is often seen as a moral skeptic: he denies that moral distinctions have any intrinsic objective reality outside of their function in a social context. In other words, without the state’s enforcement, moral norms would be nothing more than social conventions. Mandeville: Moral Nihilism and the Role of Passions Mandeville’s view, as presented in The Fable of the Bees, also places self-interest and passion at the center of human behavior. However, for Mandeville, morality is merely a social construction designed to curb human vices and promote social order. He famously argues that private vices like greed, vanity, and lust, when publicly regulated, serve social benefits—including economic productivity and societal stability. Just as in Hobbes’s theory, moral distinctions in Mandeville’s account are not grounded in objective values but rather in human passions and social manipulation. For him, the appearance of virtue is manufactured by politicians and moral leaders who harness human passions for the sake of social order. Mandeville’s moral nihilism emerges from his view that virtue and vice are entirely artificial; they do not reflect any real moral truths but are instead the product of social conventions that serve the interests of the powerful. He holds that humans are inherently driven by selfish passions, and any notion of moral rightness is nothing more than a tool to manage and disguise these drives. In his eyes, morality is a social illusion used to maintain the social fabric, and thus, it lacks objective or universal validity. Mandeville’s view, like Hobbes's, denies the intrinsic reality of moral distinctions. Hume: Moral Realism and Sentiment Hume’s position, in contrast, offers a moral realism that is grounded in human nature, specifically our sentimental nature. For Hume, moral distinctions are not arbitrary social constructs like in Hobbes and Mandeville, but real features of the world that arise from human sentiments—primarily sympathy. Hume argues that moral judgments are grounded in the feelings that we have toward others' actions—our emotional responses to acts of benevolence, kindness, fairness, and so on. These feelings are part of our human nature and provide the foundation for our moral evaluations. Hume’s moral realism contrasts with the moral skepticism of Hobbes and Mandeville in that Hume believes moral truths exist independently of individual preferences. He argues that while moral judgments arise from human sentiments, they still reflect real moral qualities in the actions or traits of others, as long as they provoke sentiments of approval or disapproval. In this way, Hume’s view supports moral objectivity in that our moral sentiments can track genuine moral properties, such as benevolence or justice, in a way that transcends mere social conventions. Moreover, for Hume, moral distinctions are not just about individual survival or selfishness (as in Hobbes) or social regulation (as in Mandeville), but rather about the natural human capacity to sympathize with the suffering and well-being of others. This sympathy creates a universal sense of morality that leads people to recognize and respond to acts of kindness, fairness, and harm in ways that are consistent across different cultures and societies. As such, Hume argues that moral values are not mere social fictions, but rather real aspects of the world, which can be discerned through human experience and sentiment. Conclusion While Hobbes and Mandeville are moral skeptics or even nihilists in that they believe morality is a social invention with no objective existence outside of human institutions, Hume offers a moral realist account where moral distinctions reflect real features of human life and are grounded in our shared sentimental nature. For Hobbes, morality is a contract to prevent chaos; for Mandeville, it is a tool to manipulate self-interest; but for Hume, morality arises naturally from human sentiment and reflects objective moral truths about how we ought to treat one another. Thus, while all three thinkers place the passions at the heart of moral behavior, Hume’s account allows for moral objectivity and realism, whereas Hobbes and Mandeville deny that such objective moral truths exist. Section II.d: The Rise of Liberalism  7.​ Explain what the doctrine of liberalism is and why Spinoza is considered a radical liberal whereas Locke is considered a moderate liberal. Be sure to point to specific features of their texts and arguments that highlight their versions of liberalism in your explanations. Liberalism in Spinoza and Locke: Radical vs. Moderate Liberalism The doctrine of liberalism is grounded in the principle that individual liberty is fundamental to a just political order. It emphasizes the protection of individual rights, limited government, tolerance, freedom of expression, and the social contract as the origin of legitimate political authority. Liberal thinkers generally agree on these foundations, but differ in how far liberty should be extended and what limitations should be placed on political authority. In this regard, Baruch Spinoza is considered a radical liberal, while John Locke is considered a moderate liberal. Both thinkers emerge from a post-Reformation context that sought to explain and justify political authority following religious conflict and the scientific revolution, yet they reach distinct conclusions regarding the scope and limits of that authority. The Foundations of Liberalism At its core, liberalism involves the belief that government must be justified by the consent of the governed, and that political power must be limited to protect individual freedom. Both Spinoza and Locke hold that individuals have natural rights and that the state arises from a social contract made to escape the dangers of the state of nature. However, Spinoza’s conception of liberty is more radical, extending further into areas like freedom of thought and religious toleration than Locke was willing to go. Spinoza’s Radical Liberalism Spinoza’s political philosophy is most fully developed in his Theological-Political Treatise. Like Hobbes and Locke, Spinoza begins with a state of nature but reinterprets it through a unique lens. For Spinoza, power and right are coextensive: individuals have a natural right to do whatever is within their power to do. Thus, natural right and natural power are identical. There is no moral restriction in the state of nature—just raw capacity and necessity. From this foundation, Spinoza builds a radically democratic political theory. The social contract transfers not moral rights but power: individuals cede their individual power to the collective, forming a multitude that acts as a unified body. However, Spinoza insists that the freedom to think and speak cannot and should not be surrendered—these are not just natural rights but essential features of human rationality. His famous claim that “the freedom to philosophize can be granted without danger to the peace of the commonwealth” exemplifies his belief that freedom of thought and expression are politically and socially necessary. Spinoza is a radical liberal because he refuses to place any limits on these intellectual freedoms. He even denies that the state should have the power to compel religious conformity. Instead, he advocates for absolute freedom of conscienceand toleration of diverse opinions, including dissent. For Spinoza, truth and progress emerge only when minds are free—a belief that underpins his liberalism. This led to charges of atheism and political sedition during his lifetime. Locke’s Moderate Liberalism John Locke’s Two Treatises of Government also builds on the idea of a social contract, but he presents a more moderate vision of liberalism. In Locke’s state of nature, people are equal and governed by reason, which teaches that all are entitled to life, liberty, and property. Unlike Hobbes’s violent state of nature or Spinoza’s power-based conception, Locke’s state of nature already contains natural law, which binds individuals and grants them moral rights. Locke argues that the social contract is made to protect natural rights, particularly property, which he sees as foundational to civil society. Political authority must be limited to securing these rights. If the government oversteps its bounds and violates natural rights, the people have the right to dissolve the government—a revolutionary idea at the time, but still rooted in contractual obligations and natural law. While Locke supports religious toleration, he is not as expansive as Spinoza. For example, Locke denies toleration to atheists (because they cannot be trusted to keep oaths) and to Catholics (because their loyalty lies with a foreign prince, the Pope). This limitation on toleration reflects Locke’s concern with preserving the stability of the political order, even at the expense of certain liberties. Unlike Spinoza, Locke is willing to constrain freedom of thought or religion when it conflicts with public peace or social cohesion. Conclusion In summary, liberalism is a doctrine committed to individual liberty, limited government, and the social contract. Spinoza is considered a radical liberal because he extends liberty into the realms of thought, speech, and religion with almost no limits, arguing that a truly free society must tolerate all ideas. Locke, in contrast, is a moderate liberal who defends individual rights within the framework of natural law, but permits limits on liberty when social order is threatened. Both share the liberal commitment to freedom and consent, but Spinoza’s vision is more expansive and uncompromising, while Locke’s is cautious and pragmatic. Questions Summaries: 1.​ Hobbes developed and defended a version of psychological egoism as the proper account of human nature. Present the doctrine of psychological egoism, illustrated with two examples, and explain why Hobbes advocated for it in the Leviathan. Key Concepts: Hobbes and Psychological Egoism ​ Psychological Egoism Defined:​ Hobbes argues that all human actions are motivated by self-interest, even when they seem altruistic. ​ Human Nature:​ People are naturally driven by appetites (pleasure) and aversions (pain)—not reason or morality. ​ Descriptive, Not Normative:​ Hobbes presents this as a factual description of behavior, not how people should act. ​ State of Nature: ○​ A condition without government or law. ○​ Leads to competition, fear, and violence: “war of every man against every man.” ○​ Famous line: life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”  ​ Example 1 – Alliances:​ Cooperation in the state of nature is strategic and temporary, formed only for mutual self-preservation. ​ Example 2 – Charity:​ Acts of kindness are not truly selfless. They are done for social approval, inner satisfaction, or praise. ​ Political Implications: ○​ Because everyone is self-interested, conflict is inevitable without external control. ○​ A powerful sovereign (Leviathan) is needed to enforce peace and stability. ​ Social Contract:​ People give up some freedoms in exchange for security—a rational, self-interested agreement. ​ Purpose of Sovereignty:​ To channel and restrain egoism for the common good. 2.​ Mandeville followed Hobbes in understanding humans to be non-rational brutes who followed their passions. Explain how Mandeville believes that conventional morality is created by politician and leaders of a society as outline in the Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue. Mandeville – Key Points and Ideas ​ Human Nature:​ People are driven by self-interest, vanity, and pride, not reason or innate virtue. ​ Motivation:​ Even altruistic behaviors (e.g., charity, modesty) are done to gain praise or avoid shame. ​ Morality as Fabrication:​ Politicians invented morality to control selfish passions and stabilize society. ​ Social Engineering:​ Leaders praised traits like honesty and modesty (which benefit society) and shamed harmful behaviors (like greed or violence). ​ Redefinition of Virtue/Vice:​ Morality is based on what serves the group, not on any natural or divine law. ​ Private Vice, Public Benefit:​ Selfish acts (like seeking wealth or status) often lead to economic growth and innovation—vice fuels societal progress. ​ Moral Illusion:​ Though artificial, belief in morality is necessary. Society needs the illusion to function peacefully. ​ Conclusion:​ Morality is a political tool, not a reflection of universal truth.​ Virtue is well-managed self-love, crafted to benefit the collective. Section I.b: A New Form of Morality 3.​ David Hume famously stated the “Reason is, and ought to be, the slave of the passions.” Explain what he meant by this and how it is reflected in his account of the principles of morality. Hume – Reason and the Passions ​ Core Claim:​ Reason is subordinate to the passions—it helps us achieve goals, but it cannot choose or motivate them. ​ Critique of Rationalism:​ Hume rejects the traditional view (Plato, Aristotle, Descartes) that reason governs passions. ​ Empiricism and Associationism:​ The mind is a bundle of perceptions, connected by habit and feeling, not pure reason. ​ Instrumental Role of Reason:​ Reason helps us calculate means, but passions determine ends (e.g., fear motivates action, not logic). ​ Morality is Sentimental, Not Rational:​ Moral judgments stem from feelings of approval or disapproval, not logical deduction. ​ Sympathy as the Basis of Morality:​ We naturally feel for others—approval of traits like honesty and disapproval of cruelty come from this. ​ Universality of Sentiment:​ Emotional responses to moral behavior are shared across cultures, forming a common human foundation. ​ Is-Ought Problem (Hume’s Law):​ You can’t derive moral duties (“ought”) from factual statements (“is”)—reason can’t create moral rules. ​ Contrast with Kant:​ Unlike Kant, who grounds morality in pure reason, Hume grounds it in emotion and human psychology. ​ Conclusion:​ Morality is rooted in human sentiment, not divine law or rational systems.​ Our emotions give moral life meaning and motivation. 4.​ Explain Hume’s conception of natural benevolence and how it gives rise to genuine moral properties., Hume – Natural Benevolence and Genuine Moral Properties ​ Morality is Based on Sentiment:​ Hume argues that moral judgments come from emotional responses, not reason.​ Reason tells us facts; sentiment tells us what is right or wrong. ​ Natural Benevolence Defined:​ A universal human tendency to care for others—family, friends, communities.​ It is innate, not taught by religion or culture (though it can be influenced by them). ​ Foundation of Moral Value:​ Benevolent actions (e.g., kindness, generosity) consistently evoke approval across societies.​ This makes them genuine moral properties—real, shared values rooted in human nature. ​ Moral Properties Are Not Objective Facts:​ They are real, but not like physical objects. They emerge from shared human sentiments and utility.  ​ “Usefulness and Agreeableness” Standard:​ Hume measures morality by what is useful or pleasing to both self and others.​ Benevolence builds trust, cooperation, happiness, and social harmony. ​ Cross-Cultural Recognition:​ Benevolence is admired globally—showing it’s not arbitrary but deeply embedded in human psychology. ​ Moral Education and Refinement:​ Though benevolence is natural, it can be cultivated and expanded through experience, culture, and reflection. ​ Conclusion:​ Benevolence is at the heart of Hume’s sentimentalist ethics—a natural feeling that generates moral approval and promotes the good of society. Section I.c: Foundations for Political Authority 5.​ Spinoza, Locke, and even Hobbes all believed that the state and political authority emerged from the state of nature. They differed, however, on the limits that ought to be imposed on political authority as it emerges from the state of nature. Compare and contrast Spinoza, Locke, and Hobbes on the limitations of political authority while explaining why those limitations follow from their views of human nature. Key Concepts – Section I.c: Foundations for Political Authority Common Ground: ​ All three thinkers begin with the state of nature and a social contract as the origin of political authority. ​ Each proposes a different limit to political authority based on their view of human nature. Hobbes – Unlimited Authority ​ Human nature: Selfish, fearful, driven by passions (psychological egoism). ​ State of nature: Violent “war of all against all.” ​ Solution: Social contract to escape chaos by surrendering freedom to an absolute sovereign. ​ Justification for unlimited power: Only overwhelming force can maintain peace and order. ​ No right to revolt, resist, or question authority. Locke – Limited Government ​ Human nature: Rational, capable of cooperation and recognizing natural rights. ​ State of nature: Peaceful but insecure (due to lack of enforcement). ​ Government’s role: Protect life, liberty, and property. ​ Political authority must be limited and based on consent of the governed. ​ If the government violates rights → right to revolt. ​ Authority is constrained by law and constitution. Spinoza – Authority Limited by Rational Agreement ​ Human nature: Driven by emotion, but also capable of rational self-interest. ​ State of nature: Not chaotic, but governed by natural power (do what you are able to do). ​ State formed through transfer of power for collective rational benefit. ​ Authority is limited by what people rationally agree to and will obey. ​ Promotes free thought, tolerance, and speech—essential for human flourishing. ​ If government contradicts public reason → loses power in practice. Thinker View of Human Nature View of Authority Limit on Authority Hobbes Self-interested, irrational, Absolute sovereign None – must be total to violent ensure peace Locke Rational, rights-bearing, Consent-based, Yes – must preserve cooperative protective natural rights Spinoza Rational and emotional, Collective rational Yes – limited by reason self-governing agreement and public power Section I.d: Liberalism, Colonialism, Slavery, and Patriarchy 6.​ Present the evidence adduced for Locke’s colonialism in class and evaluate that evidence. To what degree, if any, was Locke complicit in the colonialist attacks on Indigenous Peoples and how does this impact the legacy of his moderate liberalism? Be sure to support your answers with clear and cogent reasons. 1. Evidence of Locke’s Involvement in Colonialism: ​ Administrative Role: Locke helped draft the Fundamental Constitutions of Carolina (1669), which supported: ○​ Slavery, hereditary nobility, and elite landownership. ○​ Structures that enabled Indigenous dispossession. ​ Property Theory (Second Treatise): ○​ Land becomes property when one "mixes labor" with it. ○​ Europeans used this to justify seizing Indigenous lands, viewing them as “unused” due to lack of enclosure/farming. ○​ The “spoilage clause” was undermined by the introduction of money, allowing for unlimited accumulation.  ​ State of Nature Framing: ○​ Locke described Indigenous Peoples as existing in a pre-political state of nature. ○​ This denied them full sovereignty, supporting colonial claims that European governance was more legitimate. 2. Evaluation of Complicity: ​ Locke’s political theory excluded non-Europeans from full moral/political recognition. ​ His ideas rationalized colonial expansion under the guise of “improvement” and “civilization.” ​ His economic investments (e.g., Royal African Company) suggest material ties to colonial systems. 3. Defense and Its Limitations: ​ Some argue Locke’s emphasis on consent and natural law could support Indigenous rights. ​ But this interpretation struggles against: ○​ His economic interests in colonization. ○​ The racial and hierarchical framing of subjecthood in his writing. ○​ The lack of explicit inclusion of Indigenous or enslaved peoples in his vision of rights. 4. Impact on Locke’s Liberal Legacy: ​ Locke helped shape modern liberalism, democracy, and rights discourse. ​ However, his liberalism was built on exclusions—especially of non-Europeans. ​ These contradictions undermine the universality claimed by moderate liberalism. ​ Critical engagement with Locke allows for a re-evaluation of liberalism’s colonial entanglements and helps envision a more inclusive political framework. 7.​ We saw that the prejudice of patriarchy and misogyny prevented late 18th century liberals from accepting the equality of men and women. Compare and contrast how Mary Astell and Mary Wollstonecraft used education to overcome the prejudice of patriarchy.’ 1. Shared Belief: ​ Both believed education is key to overcoming patriarchy. ​ Criticized the way women were conditioned to focus on appearance, obedience, and charm rather than reason and independence. ​ Saw the denial of education as a form of intellectual and moral oppression. ​ Challenged the hypocrisy of liberalism, which claimed to support freedom but excluded women. 2. Mary Astell: Rational & Religious Self-Perfection ​ Argued that women are as rational as men, and lack of education is a moral failure. ​ Famous line: “If all men are born free, how is it that all women are born slaves?” ​ Critiqued social conditioning that made women vain, dependent, and submissive.  ​ Advocated for women-only academies to allow development away from male influence. ​ Rooted her argument in Cartesian rationalism and Christian piety, not in political revolution. ​ Emphasis on inner autonomy and moral virtue, not public or civic equality. 3. Mary Wollstonecraft: Political & Civic Equality ​ Built on Astell’s ideas but pushed further toward political equality. ​ In A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), demanded equal public education. ​ Education should prepare women to be rational, independent citizens, not submissive wives. ​ Critiqued liberal thinkers like Rousseau for perpetuating gendered education. ​ Saw gender inequality as a threat to republican society where all citizens must be virtuous and rational. ​ Grounded her argument in liberal political theory and civic responsibility. 4. Comparison: Feature Astell Wollstonecraft Goal Inner virtue and rational self-respect Civic equality and public engagement Approach Religious/metaphysical Political/liberal-republican Audience Upper-class Anglican women Broad, political audience View of Society Education as retreat from patriarchy Education as integration into civic life 5. Conclusion: ​ Both exposed liberalism’s failure to include women in its universal ideals. ​ Education, for both, was liberatory—a means of transforming women into rational agents. ​ Their works remain foundational in feminist philosophy, showing that intellectual empowerment is the first step toward gender equality. Part II: Cumulative Issues Section II.a: The Metaphysics of Substance 8.​ Locke famously claimed that substance was a something-I-know-not-what. What did he mean by that and why did he come to that conclusion? How does Berkeley exploit this conclusion when he advocates for immaterialism in the First Dialogue? Locke’s View on Substance ​ Substance = “something-I-know-not-what”: Locke admits we have no clear idea of what substance actually is—only of its observable qualities (color, texture, etc.). ​ Substratum Hypothesis: Substance is a theoretical support that holds together bundles of simple ideas (like color, shape, motion). We assume it exists, but cannot perceive it directly. ​ Epistemological Weakness: Locke claims substance must exist, yet concedes we cannot define, observe, or know it, making it a vague and mysterious concept. Berkeley’s Critique and Immaterialism ​ Berkeley agrees with Locke that we don’t have a clear idea of substance—but instead of accepting this mystery, he rejects the concept altogether. ​ Incoherence Argument: ○​ The phrase “lying under qualities” is metaphorical and unintelligible. ○​ Leads to infinite regress or meaningless talk. ​ Contradiction Argument: ○​ Sensible qualities (color, taste, etc.) are ideas, and ideas must be perceived. ○​ But material substance is unthinking and passive, so it cannot perceive ideas. ○​ Therefore, material substance cannot possess or support qualities—a contradiction. Berkeley’s Conclusion: Immaterialism ​ Rejects material substance as incoherent. ​ Only minds and ideas exist (immaterialism). ​ “To be is to be perceived” (esse est percipi) — there is no substance behind perceptions, only ideas in perceiving minds. ​ Berkeley collapses substance entirely—no need for a mysterious substratum. Core Philosophical Shift ​ Locke tries to preserve substance as an unknowable necessity. ​ Berkeley sees Locke’s admission as proof that materialism collapses into contradiction. ​ This leads to a new metaphysical model: reality is mental, not material. 8. Compare and contrast the vitalist materialism of Margaret Cavendish and the monadology of Gottfried Leibniz. Explain why, despite all the prima facie similarities between them, we considered the former to be a kind of continuous materialism and the latter to be a kind of spiritual atomism. Cavendish vs. Leibniz: Vitalist Materialism vs. Spiritual Atomism Shared Features: Superficial Similarities ​ Both reject Cartesian mechanism (the view that matter is passive and moved by external forces). ​ Both believe in animacy or perception throughout nature (panpsychism). ​ Both stress internal sources of motion rather than external push/pull forces. Margaret Cavendish: Vitalist Materialism ​ Only matter exists: Her view is monist and materialist. ​ Matter is self-moving and perceptive: Includes inanimate, sensible, and rational matter. ​ Panpsychism: All matter has perception and agency. ​ No voids in nature: Advocates a plenum—a continuous, filled universe. ​ Motion arises internally: Rejects impulse motion; bodies imitate each other through internal agency. ​ Reality is continuous: No separation into discrete units; everything is connected material substance. Gottfried Leibniz: Spiritual Atomism (Monadology) ​ Reality is