What does it actually mean to know something? These are two essays exploring one of the oldest and most stubborn questions in philosophy, digging into the work of thinkers who have spent their careers trying to pin down the difference between genuine knowledge and mere belief. If knowledge is just true belief with the right conditions attached, why can we never seem to pin it down?

We like to think of technology as neutral, a tool we pick up and put down. But as AI companions promise to cure our loneliness, we may be sleepwalking into a world where the messy, resistant, deeply human work of connection is quietly replaced by a digital yes-man. Will we even notice what we've lost?

Is Augustine’s claim that evil exists as a product of human freewill a sound claim?

In the Western world, we take the separation of religion and government to be self-evident and concrete. Yet, the claim “religion should be separate from politics” implies a well defined distinction between the two terms allowing them to operate as mutually exclusive, which arguably isn't the case. What does it truly mean for a government to be secular?

How can we differentiate between terrorism and revolution, both as an ideology and operational force? What do we consider to be a legitimate use of violence?

The United States' militaristic approach to foreign policy has often revealed significant shortcomings, from unclear objectives and cultural unpreparedness to the lack of effective post-conflict planning. Do the destructive consequences of militarism outweigh its short-term effectiveness?

Bertrand Russell suggests that achieving objective thought requires setting aside emotions, hopes, and biases. However, this raises the question: can we ever truly separate our understanding of the world from the subjective experiences that define us as human and should we?

While seemingly almost self-evident, the question of the moral and practical responsibility that one's belief warrants is more nuanced. Not only must we examine if belief warrants responsibility, but exactly why it does.