THIS summer, I’m doing some research on the doing/allowing problem—the philosophical debate over whether there’s a moral difference between directly causing harm to someone and allowing harm to come to that person—with one of my favorite philosophy professors. It’s been rewarding; I’m learning a lot about several deep issues in ethical theory, issues surrounding the rational authority of moral reasons, the relationship between reactive attitudes and the impersonal evaluative standpoint, and the commensurability of various sorts of practical reasons. Nonetheless, my work so far has put me in a position to make a rather uncomfortable observation: philosophers like to endanger fat men. Consider just a few examples from the ethical theory literature.

The other day I overheard a polite disagreement. At least, it was polite as far as I can tell. I extrapolated its politeness from one participant’s non-ironic use of the phrase “I beg to differ.”

I had no reason to question the intentions of the speaker, nor did I expect that he necessarily put any particular thought into his choice of expression. Nonetheless, I spent some time reflecting on the meaning of his words, particularly his use of “beg.”

For awhile, I’ve planned on applying to graduate school in philosophy and trying to become a professor. There’s also a girl I’ve been thinking about approaching. But, I don’t think I’m going to follow up on either of those things now. My mind changed after reading a fortune cookie.

It was the worst fortune cookie ever.

PEOPLE use the word “now” to refer to a particular moment, but doing so creates a rarely-examined ambiguity. Does the speaker mean the moment she starts the word? Finishes it? Forms the intention to say it? Some arbitrary point in between? This problem is confounded by the gap between the time the word is said and the time the listener starts to hear it. Sure, “now” can also refer to a general collection of moments surrounding the present one, and there is no cause for confusion in this case, but when referring to a highly particularized—even infinitely particularized—point, the ambiguity seems to matter.