I present an analogy between analytic philosophy and a particular sort of computer game, and analyze some aspects of John Martin Fischer's 'My Way' in the light of this analogy. I set out the different levels of the free-will question, and explore how well Fischer does on them. On the compatibility level, he succeeds, in my view, in confronting the "metaphysical challenge" and the "manipulation challenge", but does less well with the "moral arbitrariness challenge". The compatibilist perspective captures only part of the moral and personal truth on the compatibility issue, and is shown to be inherently shallow. On the next levels we see that Fischer confronts particular dangers: the very virtues that make his minimalist position so resilient on the second (compatibility) level, render it too impoverished when it comes to the third, which asks about the very importance of taking moral responsibility seriously. Connecting to other positions (such as P. F. Strawson's version of naturalism) may be an imperative, but would also be risky. Likewise, on the fourth level, where we confront the difficulty of deciding how to deal with the previous conclusions, it is doubtful how well Fischer can do, given his previous philosophical commitments.

Fairness is a central concept in contemporary discourse. "It isn't fair" is a familiar complaint, which can be heard whenever children play games, just as from politicians asking for "equal time" on television. Moral and political philosophy also takes fairness very seriously: John Rawls famously said that "Justice Is Fairness". In the free will debate, however, the notion of fairness has received much less attention. I wish to make some preliminary moves towards correcting this relative neglect. Exploring the connections between the concern for fairness and the free will problem should help us to deepen our understanding of this problem. I shall argue that there is more than one interpretation of fairness that is salient in the free will issue, and that explicating this should help us to see what aiming for fairness might mean in the free will context.

I have argued that compatibilism has difficulties resisting prepunishment, and that it is thus a much more radical view than is typically presented and perceived. Helen Beebee presented two counterarguments, which I examine.

I have argued that compatibilism cannot resist in a principled way the temptation to prepunish people, and that it thus emerges as a much more radical view than is typically presented and perceived; and is at odds with fundamental moral intuitions. Stephen Kearns has replied, and in the present paper I examine his arguments.

I argue that compatibilism cannot resist in a principled way the temptation to prepunish people. Compatibilism thus emerges as a much more radical view than it is typically presented and perceived, and is seen to be at odds with fundamental moral intuitions. The traditional compatibilist stance, according to which determinism does not really change anything, morally, is thereby 'shown' to be false.

In "The Paradox of Beneficial Retirement" I proposed a personal and moral paradox about integrity and retirement. This paradox raises the disturbing prospect that many people (perhaps even the majority, in many professions) ought to seriously consider retiring, because they are likely to be replaced by someone who will do their work better than they do it. In "Why I Have No Plans to Retire: In Defence of Moderate Professional Complacency", James Lenman argues that my argument does not succeed. I examine his arguments, and conclude that they do not significantly affect the salience of the paradox.

Why is it that we think today so very differently about distributive and retributive justice? Why is the notion of desert so neglected in our thinking about distributive justice, while it remains fundamental in almost every account of retributive justice? I wish to take up this relatively neglected issue, and put forth two proposals of my own, based upon the way control functions in the two spheres.

The contemporary discussion of terrorism has been dominated by deontological and consequentialist arguments. Building upon my previous work on a paradox concerning moral complaint, I try to broaden the perspectives through which we view the issues. The direction that seems to me as most promising is a self-reflexive, conditional, and, to some extent, relational emphasis. What one is permitted to do to others would depend not so much on some absolute code constraining actions or on the estimate of what would optimize overall the resulting well-being but on the precedents that the past actions of those others provided, on the relationships among the participants, on tacit or explicit offers and possible agreements among them, and on the reciprocity (or lack thereof) that ensues.

I made two claims against CE. First, that under careful analysis, CE compels us to bring about states of affairs so unacceptable that the position becomes absurd. By virtue of its very conceptual structure, CE gives us manifestly wrong instructions. Second, that CE?s hope of reconciling a strong egalitarianism with robust personal choice and something like the prevailing market economy is a chimera. Manor?s paper does not dispute my second claim. Indeed, his own claim, that in fact CE leads to something close to strict equality, supports my pessimism about CE?s reconciliation project. My reply to Manor therefore focuses on his denial of my ?rst claim, that choice-egalitarianism leads to absurdity.

I argue that the free will problem is essentially about respect for persons, and draw out some compatibilist and incompatibilist implications.

Bad things often happen, and morally good people ought to be sorry that they happen. People are sometimes morally permitted not to do anything about such bad things, not to have to struggle to prevent them from occurring. But what could be more obvious to a good person than that one ought to be sorry about the occurrence of bad things? Even more so, it would seem, if the bad things occur in one?s vicinity, or one is involved with them. I shall argue that sometimes it is morally permissible not to be sorry when bad things happen. Perhaps it is even permissible to be happy about it

Morally, when should one retire from one's job? The surprising answer may be ''now''. It is commonly assumed that for a person who has acquired professional training at some personal effort, is employed in a task that society considers useful, and is working hard at it, no moral problem arises about whether that person should continue working. I argue that this may be a mistake: within many professions and pursuits, each one among the majority of those positive, productive, hard working people ought to consider leaving his or her job.