This chapter contains sections titled: Romeo and Juliet Talking about Sex and Love Plain Sex Loving Sex between Non‐Lovers Being Embodied A Primary Emotional Awareness Back to Romeo and Juliet: A Variety of Attitudes towards Sex without Love.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Tiny Person, Big ImpactT.S. MoranI met J on a Tuesday, the second day of my new job as the pediatric oncology social worker. Five days later, he died.Although J was 8 months old, he seemed tiny, like a preemie. When I saw him, he was snuggled into the shoulder of the attending physician. It was evident that one of his diagnoses was failure to thrive. He also had what (...) was thought to be a low-grade glioma of the optic pathway, and despite months of treatment, he was declining. It was clear that the team cared for J very much. They visited him, held him, played with him, and sang lullabies to him in Spanish. I was so impressed by their compassion.J had spent about half of his short life at the hospital. He was born prematurely to a young mother, herself in foster care. His mother had numerous obstacles preventing her from visiting often and it did not seem that she bonded well with him. J's mother stated that her boyfriend discouraged her from visiting. She did not have transportation and declined offers of hospital-funded Uber rides. She had little prenatal care or education about becoming a mother.J's mother seemed guarded in her interactions; hesitant to reveal anything that might show her vulnerability. The team was frustrated as it seemed she was not receptive to their efforts. The team was also concerned that she did not fully understand J's condition due to her poor health literacy, despite the use of a certified language interpreter. Still, when she did visit, she was kind and caring and stated that she did not want her foster mother involved in providing J's care.Part of my job was to help prepare the family for discharge to home. I had been speaking to their caseworker from Child Protective Services. She was a strong advocate for both mother and baby. After several meetings with the team that included J's mother and the caseworker, J's mother accepted his prognosis. She was willing to provide care at home with hospice support. She came to the unit several times that week to receive training about his care needs. The hospice nursing visit was scheduled, and J and his mother left the hospital on a Friday.The caseworker called on Monday to tell us that J had passed away peacefully on Sunday. The reaction on the unit was palpable. New residents and seasoned chiefs were teary-eyed and sighing. To some, it seemed like a relief. Given the team's extraordinary care and concern shown to this family, I was not surprised by their emotions.What surprised me was my level of grief. I had spent the 12 years prior serving adult hospice patients; I understood end-of-life care and death's eventuality. I thought I was well prepared. This experience was different from my past. I was able to cope with an adult patient's passing without much distress, accepting that most adults had lived a full life.I felt grief for the team who had invested in J, and for his short life filled with illness and pain. I felt grief for his mother, who had experienced a horrific childhood, had lost her innocence too young, and had been robbed of the opportunity to experience joyful parenting. [End Page 82]The chief recognized the team's need for support and quickly organized a "debriefing." A lot of the team participated, even those who only had brief contact with J. Everyone had a chance to reflect on their experience in caring for this child. Because of my hospice training, I was included. I validated their loss, their efforts, and their love for J. I provided basic grief education, enumerating their possible reactions of sadness, anger, frustration, fatigue, confusion, or numbness, and this helped me to feel like I also contributed to his care. I encouraged self-care—from taking time off, to lingering over an extra cup of tea, to speaking about their experience with me or another social worker.When I spoke about my feelings to my coworkers, they were understanding and acknowledged... (shrink)

Some of my best friends are women, but I would not want my sister to marry one of them. Modern-minded persons criticize me for manifesting such out-dated prejudices, and would like to send me to Coventry for a compulsory course of reindoctrination. They may be right. It could conceivably be the case that in due course the Sex Discrimination Act will be tightened up, even to the extent of our recognizing that there are no ‘good reasons why the State should (...) not recognize contracts which are in all respects like marriage, except for the sex of the parties concerned’. We can envisage a society so enlightened that the relations between men and women will be purely platonic and it will be a matter of no concern whether two people are members of the opposite sex or not: or, alternatively, our feelings could be so completely homogenized, that it will make no difference to an emotional relationship whether Leslie and Julian have only one Y-chromosome between them, or two, or none at all. In that event I shall be shown to be wrong, and my critics entitled to erect a monument to female equality on my grave. But I have doubts, and suspect that long after I am dead men will go on falling in love with women and women will continue to find their hearts wooed and won by men. And this fact, if it is a fact, makes a profound difference to our social institutions. I want to follow out the logic of social differentiation, relying as little as I can on putative facts about the differences between the sexes. Scientifically attested knowledge is scarce in this field. Many academics take refuge in a safe suspension of judgment, but this is a craven dereliction of duty. We have yet to develop an adequate theory of knowledge in social matters, and only by thrashing out the apparently telling arguments on this and similar issues can we clear our minds about the nature of social knowledge. Moreover, if those who might argue rationally draw back from doing so, they leave the field clear for others who suffer from fewer inhibitions and fewer scruples. And finally, serious social consequences can follow from public confusion about the logic of a situation, and what things are possible and what desirable. There is a danger that in our attempts to remedy the real wrongs done to women we shall only succeed, as with much modern legislation, in making a bad case worse. (shrink)

Photo ID 222412412 © US Navy Medicine | Dreamstime.com ABSTRACT In a non-military setting, the answer is clear: it would be unethical to treat someone based on non-medical considerations such as nationality. We argue that Battlefield Triage is a moral tragedy, meaning that it is a situation in which there is no morally blameless decision and that the demands of justice cannot be satisfied. INTRODUCTION Medical resources in an austere environment without quick recourse for resupply or casualty evacuation are often (...) limited. The shortage extends not only to supplies like blood products and drugs, but physicians and other medical personnel. In the midst of a mass casualty scenario, such as a battle that includes intense ground fighting, the medical staff will stretch scarce resources and triage casualties according to specific criteria. Typically, they proceed by providing care for the most severely wounded first, referred to here as conventional triage. At times, though, the staff may reverse the triage so that soldiers with minor wounds can return to the fight. In a mass casualty situation, when medical personnel apply conventional triage and treat casualties from opposing forces, a dilemma may arise. We argue that it can be permissible for military physicians to prioritize their own soldiers over enemy combatants in a mass casualty triage, where reverse triage does not apply. The case we will focus on is as follows: Battlefield Triage: During combat operations on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean, a compatriot soldier and an enemy combatant arrive at the compatriot soldier country’s medical treatment facility. Both have similar gunshot wounds to the abdomen, and they arrive with similar conditions. Both have low oxygen saturation and excessive blood loss. The sole physician only has enough time to stabilize one person. The scenario is brief, and we are aware that medical rules of eligibility will most often dictate how the physician proceeds,[1] but this scenario is useful in setting up the question we focus on in this paper: would it be wrong to favor the stabilization of a soldier just because the soldier is the physician’s compatriot? In other words, can nationality serve as an ethically justified tiebreaker in a situation such as Battlefield Triage?[2] In a non-military setting, the answer is clear: it would be unethical to treat someone based on non-medical considerations such as nationality. The AMA’s Code of Medical Ethics asserts that physicians have “ethical obligations to place patients’ welfare above their self-interest and above obligations to other groups.”[3] The World Medical Association’s Declaration of Tokyo affirms that “no motive, whether personal, collective or political, shall prevail against this higher purpose” of alleviating distress.[4] Physicians are taught early on that triage decisions must be medically indicated and made without consideration of factors such as race, ethnicity, religion, social status, and nationality. They are taught that public trust and obligations of justice grounded in equality demand that only medical indications be considered. But military physicians in a military setting are beholden to obligations, duties, and responsibilities as members of the military, and when these obligations, duties, and responsibilities conflict, as they do in Battlefield Triage, which loyalties win out and why?[5] Critics of partiality on national grounds argue that partiality undermines public trust in medicine and justice because everyone should be treated equally regardless of nationality.[6] Proponents of partiality argue that military obligations supersede equality and that justice requires partiality in such cases.[7] Despite the critics’ disagreement, both agree that there is a morally right, perhaps even blameless, course of action. Drawing on insights from virtue ethics, we argue that Battlefield Triage is a moral tragedy in which justice is unattainable and there is no action without moral cost. The assumption that there is a morally right choice is flawed. We argue that while no decision in this scenario is free from moral blame, there are reasons to favor treating one’s soldiers over enemy combatants. I. The Case Against Partiality There is a common assumption that there is a morally right or just decision in Battlefield Triage. A number of organizations and scholars claim that it is wrong for military physicians to favor their own soldiers on the grounds of nationality or some form of ‘group membership.’ (In a conflict involving service members from multiple nations working as a coalition, a soldier from an allied country may receive the same priority as the US service member due to ‘group membership.’) The World Medical Association’s WMA Declaration of Lisbon on the Rights of the Patient, which was reaffirmed in 2015, posits that, “[i]n circumstances where a choice must be made between potential patients for a particular treatment that is in limited supply, all such patients are entitled to a fair selection procedure for that treatment. That choice must be based on medical criteria and made without discrimination.”[8] This echoes what was set forth in Article 12 of the Geneva Conventions, which states that “[o]nly urgent medical reasons will authorize priority in the order of treatment to be administered.”[9] The argument for impartiality in Battlefield Triage is that every person is morally equal, and equality entails that medical distribution is, “based on a combination of medical need and urgency.”[10] This is in keeping with the bioethical principles that are generally applied.[11] II. The Case for Partiality On the other side, there are arguments that favoritism is the ethically right decision in Battlefield Triage.[12] The argument asserts that members of the military form a morally significant community of friends and participation in these relationships demands partiality. Just as parents have strong ethical duties to their children and not just any children, military personnel have ethical duties to their group, a group that involves an affirmation of mutual aid and support. Some have termed these ‘associative duties. According to Michael Gross, obligations of friendship, care, and solidarity “leave very little room for generally applicable principles of justice that would obligate a medic to treat enemy or non-compatriot wounded ahead of their compatriots.”[13] This is true in Battlefield Triage, but it may also be true even if the enemy’s soldier were more seriously wounded: “the ethics of small group cohesion, largely an ethics of care, mostly replaces the demands of impartial justice.”[14] In a more recent article, Gross explains that preferential treatment is ethically justified based on fighting capability and “the special obligations people owe friends, family, and, no less, comrades-in-arms.”[15] To not show partiality to the US soldier would be morally wrong on the grounds of friendship and mutual care.[16] III. The Moral Tragedy of Battlefield Triage Defenders and critics of Battlefield Triage favoritism based on nationality both frame their position as just or fair. For example, Justin List argues that physicians are “bound to practice medical neutrality,”[17] Marcus Adams denies that physicians “possess special ethical obligations” to enemy combatants because of their profession.[18] These perspectives assume that there is a morally right decision and that justice is attainable. The assumption that there is or can be a morally right Battlefield Triage decision, and we need to put our heads together to figure it out, remains strongly entrenched. However, the facts of the situation should give us pause; there are too many people and too few resources, and this demands a decision-making process that determines who will receive scarce resources. By its very nature, a battlefield triage decision has to be made based on some characteristic or value, a characteristic or value that will inevitably favor some at the expense of others. This is precisely why competing analyses “in the military context struggle to resolve these conflicts satisfactorily.”[19] Drawing on the insights of virtue ethics, we suggest that Battlefield Triage is a moral tragedy. Virtue ethics suggests that morality is about acting virtuously, which is to say that we should do what a virtuous person would do in the situation. Ethics is about figuring out how a just, wise, compassionate, loving, and fair person would act, and then doing that, as one grows in virtue. But life is not always clear cut, and it is possible that virtuous people may find themselves in a moral tragedy, a situation in which, through no fault of one’s own, a person must make a morally objectionable decision. After the action the virtuous person “emerges having done a terrible thing, the very sort of thing that the callous, dishonest, unjust, or in general vicious agent would characteristically do.”[20] Stated differently, a moral tragedy presents a virtuous person with two or more courses of action, all of which have a moral cost.[21] In Battlefield Triage, no matter how the physician goes about deciding, there is going to be defensible concern from those not saved. The fact that there are more people than can be helped fosters competing values in battlefield triage: maximize lives saved, treat people equally, treat the worse off, and support the war effort. Treating people equally may create tension between treating the worse off, maximizing lives saved, and supporting the war effort. Reverse triage is a case in point, as supporting the war effort conflicts with treating the worse off first, as is a fair lottery system since deploying a lottery may not maximize lives saved or support the war effort. There can be reasons why one person is selected over another, to be sure. Yet, there are reasons for making a decision, and that the decision is subject to legitimate moral concern is another. To recognize the moral tragedy of Battlefield Triage is to recognize the impossibility of acting blamelessly in the situation. In this situation, the virtuous military physician is going to have to sacrifice important values such as justice, compassion, and respect for others, even with a defensible criterion in hand. The physician will grieve this sacrifice accordingly. The physician may find her decision difficult or stressful, and rightly so, because of what her circumstances require of her. This kind of moral tragedy results “in actions which betray and violate the rights of persons to whom there may be a strong duty of care. When this happens, it properly triggers an appropriate moral emotion since our moral integrity has been violated and this affects how we think of ourselves and what we have become.”[22] Rather than view her triage decision as the morally superior choice, the virtuous military physician will view her decisions in these circumstances in a different light: it is the least bad option in a terrible situation, and she did something ethically problematic, something that is contrary to her moral character. She deeply regrets the circumstances in which she had to act. IV. Virtue Ethics A virtue ethicist has insight into how one should go about deciding what to do in a moral tragedy, although virtue ethics may not be as helpful as one may hope. The goal of the virtuous military physician in Battlefield Triage is to adopt the best course of action or the action that she feels she ought to do, all things considered. This does not make her choice devoid of serious wrongdoing—a decision must be made, but that does not make it just. The virtuous military physician will approach the situation with courage, responsibility, and insight. She will think about the decision carefully, wisely, and conscientiously; she will weigh the goods and harms of the choices before her, in conjunction with a proper conception of the good life, human worth, and understanding of her obligations to others—including chain of command, fellow soldiers, and the medical community. She is attuned to the value of human life and has a reasonable idea of the various ways her decisions will affect others. She recognizes that she is in this non-ideal situation through no fault of her own: she is not the one fighting in battles; she is serving her country as a physician, whose job it is to save lives, treat everyone justly, and promote military objectives. She regrets the decision she is forced to make in battlefield triage, acting “with immense regret and pain,” Hursthouse explains, “instead of indifferently or gladly.”[23] This is because, no matter what decision is made, the virtuous military physician “does something terrible or horrible,” something she otherwise would not do and is contrary to her values.[24] V. A Resolvable Moral Tragedy Instead of asking whether there is a morally right decision, in which a decision is morally blameless and above reproach, the virtue ethicist asks whether there is a decision with a convincing rationale, knowing that a decision can have a clear rationale but still be morally tragic. It is perfectly reasonable to think that different virtuous persons will arrive at different courses of action: “two virtuous agents, in the same situation,” Hursthouse writes, “may act differently” in irresolvable moral tragedies, in cases in which there is no clear course of action.[25] Because a person must act in a moral tragedy, one goal is to identify reasons for choosing the chosen action. Some decisions are clearly indefensible—treating neither the compatriot soldier nor the enemy combatant in Battlefield Triage would be wrong—and some decisions are more problematic than others. If the military physician selects to treat the soldier because she does not like the enemy combatant’s skin color, such a reason would be deeply problematic. But much of the debate over how to act in a moral tragedy is not over clearly indefensible or problematic criteria. Instead, the literature is largely about different standards or implementations of justice. Some scholars defend nation-impartial triage as right, while others defend nation-aware triage as right, and each argues that the other side is promoting an unjust or otherwise wrong solution to Battlefield Triage. We suggest that Battlefield Triage is a resolvable moral tragedy and that virtue ethics offers convincing reasons to prefer the treatment of the compatriot soldier rather than the enemy combatant on the grounds of national identity. Virtues are integral to living a good life, a flourishing life, but as Aristotle observed long ago, human beings are inherently social, interdependent and interconnected in profound ways.[26] This goes beyond the obvious fact that we need each other to survive day to day (one person makes clothes, another farms, and another makes tools); the claim is that a good or flourishing life depends in large part on one’s social network or community. This is why many of Aristotle’s moral virtues are other facing: justice, friendship, generosity, and magnanimity, to name a few. Courage, a typically self-facing virtue, is understood by Aristotle to be the virtue that regards one’s fear of death in battle, a battle fought on behalf of one’s city.[27] All of this remains true today. Namely, there is an important sense in which our community matters to our lives: it is easier to live a good, flourishing life if one is part of a good, flourishing community. Our community is made up of smaller groups, and it is more accurate to say that we are simultaneous members of different groups within a broader community. A person may be part of a family, friend group, research team, large state university, city, state, and nation. Groups can function well or not, as we all have experienced, and this suggests that there are virtues or excellences that groups can instantiate. Good groups are unified in purpose, with each member doing their duty alongside others for the attainment of that purpose. Good groups manifest solidarity among their members. Although Aristotle does not list solidarity as a virtue, a number of modern-day virtue ethicists have begun examining how group solidarity can be a virtue that contributes to a good or flourishing life.[28] Solidarity is not conceptualized as an individual virtue, a virtue possessed by a person in isolation of others; instead, it is a collective virtue, a virtue that is shared among members of a defined group with particular ends.[29] “A group has solidarity to the extent that its members are disposed to: (1) share values, aims, or goals; (2) care about those values, aims, or goals; (3) act in accordance with those values, aims, or goals; (4) trust the testimony of other group members with respect to those values, aims, and goals; and (5) feel a sense of belonging to the group.”[30] The virtue of collective or group solidarity involves individuals having special concern for each other, shared aims and values, trust, loyalty, and a sense of belonging with these specific others. There is a oneness to the group in the pursuit of a definite goal or purpose, involving mutual support and affirmation of each member. As such, the group has ends and goods above and beyond the good of each individual person. Sometimes solidarity requires personal sacrifice for the collective (for example, a father sacrificing food so his child can eat). The virtue of collective or group solidarity is important to the military and medical community at every level, and for clear reasons. In the military, there is a clear hierarchy of command, unity of purpose and end, mutual trust and support in complex settings, and so on. Soldiers need to know they can count on one another, and solidarity grounds a soldier’s ability to trust others and be assured of mutual aid. In medicine, solidarity maintains self-regulation of the profession, shared values and goals, as well as public support, not to mention that day-to-day operations require physician trust, engagement, and effort toward the ends of clinical care. Physicians need to work together, along with others, in pursuit of health, and disunity is sowed when there is mistrust, selfishness, or disengagement among the healthcare team and organization. Importantly, just as we are all members of various groups and hence may manifest group solidarity in different settings, the virtuous military physician instantiates collective solidarity with both the medical profession and the military. Her dual loyalty contributes to the moral difficulty of acting in Battlefield Triage. The military physician has competing obligations to distinct groups and cannot satisfy all obligations in Battlefield Triage. Solidarity with the military supports the consideration of favoring the soldier for reasons of national identity, whereas solidarity with the medical community does not. Something has to give, which is why it is a moral tragedy. The virtuous military physician, therefore, must weigh the costs of each course of action. To fulfill her obligations to the medical community would require that she does not use nationality and other non-medical considerations in Battlefield Triage. Since the soldier and enemy combatant are equally injured, justice would demand a random process, perhaps a flip of the coin. Although this may satisfy obligations the military physician has to the medical community, this would be costly to the physician’s military group. If word gets out that the physician decides who to treat based on a coin toss, soldiers, families, and citizens may become frustrated and angry. Soldier morale may go down if it becomes known that a coin flip led to the preventable death of a soldier and the saving of an enemy combatant who had killed (or attempted to kill) other soldiers. As Gross highlights, military solidarity involves a mutual aid promise that military personnel promise to help one another.[31] A military physician is part of the military and, as such, is part of the mutual aid promise, which would appear to be violated if the physician flips a coin. Treating a member of one’s own team may be psychologically more beneficial than treating an enemy combatant and may lead to less moral distress.[32] Finally, treating soldiers rather than enemy combatants promotes broader military and social aims, including returning soldiers to health, maintaining unity of purpose, and minimizing community suffering from a soldier’s death. Favoring members of one’s group, that is, triage based on nationality in Battlefield Triage, would fulfill obligations of military group loyalty, which is contrary to the values and duties of medicine. It does not seem as though showing favoritism in this particular situation is very costly to the medical community or general public, but this is because there is recognition that the physician is in the military. Medicine is impartial to non-medical indications partly because of fairness and to promote public trust in medicine. However, Battlefield Triage is unique, as medicine is being practiced in a non-public, wartime setting. In ordinary circumstances, a patient’s identity is irrelevant, and physicians ought not play favorites. Since Battlefield Triage is not an ordinary circumstance, decisions based on patient identity may not undermine public trust in medicine. In addition, it is contestable that fairness in Battlefield Triage requires that no consideration be paid to one’s nationality. Fairness is about giving each person their due, what is owed to them, and the case can be made that soldiers who place themselves in danger for the sake of the common good or a just cause are owed special attention when they suffer harm in the line of duty. In other words, soldiers voluntarily undergo risk to themselves for the greater good, and society owes them for this sacrifice. This plausibly includes preferential treatment in a situation such as Battlefield Triage. So, while the medical community affirms justice demands non-preferential treatment, the military community can affirm the opposite. The demands of fairness are unclear at best or in conflict in this situation: demands of physician justice decry favoritism, while demands of military justice support favoritism. Triage not based on nationality is arguably unfair and triage based on nationality may not undermine public trust, after all. All things considered, there is a clear rationale for favoring nationality-based preferential treatment in Battlefield Triage. Adopting a nationality-based preference in this situation is more defensible than not. This does not make such a decision ethically right or just. Preference based on nationality is the least bad decision, but it is not morally blameless. It involves one in a serious moral wrong, a wrong otherwise avoided and contrary to one’s character. The virtuous military physician is in a situation in which obligations conflict, and we disagree with Gross, who posits that care of fellow soldiers “is important to the near exclusion of all else.”[33] Gross fails to appreciate the collective virtue of solidarity as applied to those in medicine. The military physician has duties to fellow soldiers but also to fellow physicians, to the medical community, and humanity. To favor a soldier on grounds of nationality violates her duties and responsibilities to this latter group. She is involved in a moral tragedy and can only seek the most just action given the circumstances, yet, at least in virtue ethics, the action remains far from blameless. CONCLUSION We argue that Battlefield Triage is a moral tragedy, meaning that it is a situation in which there is no morally blameless decision and that the demands of justice cannot be satisfied. As such, the virtuous military physician incurs a moral cost to acting as she does—there is a moral residue. However, despite being a moral tragedy, there are clear reasons to act in favor of treating one’s own, considering group solidarity. As such, these kinds of tragedies are resolvable: virtuous military physicians should favor treatment of their own, although they would do so with sorrow. - [1] Militaries set forth medical rules of eligibility or guidelines used to determine whether a person qualifies for specific medical interventions or treatments in certain circumstances, and these guidelines are binding for a military physician. For example, despite opposition from medical organizations, militaries have adopted reverse triage guidelines for military physicians to follow. For ethical discussion, see Falzone, Elisabeth, P. Pasquier, C. Hoffmann, O. Barbier, M. Boutonnet, A. Salvadori, A. Jarrassier, J. Renner, B. Malgras, and S. Mérat. "Triage in military settings." Anaesthesia Critical Care & Pain Medicine 36, no. 1 (2017): 43-51. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.accpm.2016.05.004 [2] There are issues that are related to this, including the triage of civilians and allied soldiers. We set related issues aside for purposes of this paper [3] American Medical Association, Code of Medical Ethics: Current Opinions with Annotations, 2004–2005 ed. (Chicago, IL: AMA, 2004), 300. [4] American Medical Association, Code of Medical Ethics: Current Opinions with Annotations, 2004–2005 ed. (Chicago, IL: AMA, 2004), 300. [5] This is termed the “dual loyalty” dilemma in military medicine and has been described at length elsewhere: Institute of Medicine (US) Board on Health Sciences Policy. Military Medical Ethics: Issues regarding Dual Loyalties: Workshop Summary. Washington (DC): National Academies Press (US); 2008. Toward a Framework for Resolving Dual Loyalties. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK214853/ [6] See Kenneth G. Swan and K.G. Swan, Jr., “Triage: The Past Revisited,” Military Medicine 161:8 (1996): 448–452. https://doi.org/10.1093/milmed/161.8.448; Jerome A. Singh, “American Physicians and dual loyalty obligations in the ‘war on terror,’” BMC Medical Ethics 4.4 (2003): 1–10. https://doi.org/10.1186/1472-6939-4-4; Beam, Thomas E. "Medical Ethics on the Battlefield." Military Medical Ethics: Sect. IV. Medical ethics in the military. Medical ethics on the battlefield: the crucible of military medical ethics 2 (2003): 369-402; Hereth, Blake. "Health justice for unjust combatants." Journal of Military Ethics 20, no. 1 (2021): 67-81. https://doi.org/10.1080/15027570.2021.1949782. [7] See Adams, Marcus P. "Triage priorities and military physicians." In Physicians at war: The dual-loyalties challenge, pp. 215-236. Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands, 2008. Gross, Michael L. "Comradery, community, and care in military medical ethics." Theoretical medicine and bioethics 32 (2011): 337-350. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11017-011-9189-6. Gross, Michael L. "The limits of impartial medical treatment during armed conflict." In Military medical ethics for the 21st century, pp. 71-84. Routledge, 2016. [8] World Medical Association, WMA Declaration of Lisbon on the Rights of the Patient. 5 December 2022, https://www.wma.net/policies-post/wma-declaration-of-lisbon-on-the-rights-of-the-patient/ [9] Geneva Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of Wounded, Sick in Armed Forces in the Field. 12 August 1949. https://www.un.org/en/genocideprevention/documents/atrocity-crimes/Doc.30_GC-I-EN.pdf. [10] List, Justin M. "Medical neutrality and political activism: physicians' roles in conflict situations." In Physicians at war: The dual-loyalties challenge, pp. 237-253. Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands, 2008. 240 [11] Beauchamp, T., and J. Childress. 2013. Principles of Biomedical Ethics, 7th ed. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press. [12] Adams, Marcus P. "Triage priorities and military physicians." In Physicians at war: The dual-loyalties challenge, pp. 215-236. Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands, 2008. [13] Gross, "Comradery, community, and care in military medical ethics," 347. [14] Gross, “Comradery, community, and care in military medical ethics,” 349. [15] Gross, Michael L. "When medical ethics and military ethics collide." Narrative inquiry in bioethics 13, no. 3 (2023): 199-204. 202 https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/nib.2023.a924191 [16] Our argument draws on virtue ethics, from which care ethics derives, and it is worth clarifying how our argument relates to Gross’s. We do not think that the virtue of friendship grounds triage decisions, for we think it is unlikely that the physician and wounded soldier are friends. Instead, as explained below, we think the collective virtue of group solidarity better captures the moral significance of group loyalty and that Gross would agree with us. But since military physicians are part of distinct groups, with competing obligations, the military physician will be forced to sacrifice a value in battlefield triage cases. In other words, we think Gross downplays the dual group membership of a military physician. [17] List,”Medical neutrality and political activism,” 250. [18] Adams,”Triage priorities and military physicians,” 235. [19] London, Leslie, Leonard S. Rubenstein, Laurel Baldwin-Ragaven, and Adriaan Van Es. "Dual loyalty among military health professionals: human rights and ethics in times of armed conflict." Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics 15, no. 4 (2006): 381-391. 383. [20] Hursthouse, R. On Virtue Ethics. OUP 1999. 74 [21] Nussbaum, Martha C. "The costs of tragedy: Some moral limits of cost-benefit analysis." The Journal of Legal Studies 29, no. S2 (2000): 1005-1036, 1007. [22] De Wijze, S. (2005). Tragic-remorse–the anguish of dirty hands. Ethical theory and moral practice, 7(5), 453-471, 457. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10677-005-6836-x [23] Hursthouse, 73 [24] Hursthouse, 81 [25] Hursthouse, 72 [26] Aristotle, Politics 1253a8. Reeve, C. D. C., Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 2017 [27] Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics. III.6.114a, 34-35. 2002, Nicomachean Ethics, Christopher Rowe (trans.), Oxford: Oxford University Press [28] Byerly, T. Ryan, and Meghan Byerly. "Collective virtue." The Journal of Value Inquiry 50, no. 1 (2016): 33-50. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10790-015-9484-y; Federico, Veronica. "Conclusion: solidarity as a public virtue." Solidarity as a Public Virtue (2018): 495-542. https://doi.org/10.5771/9783845290058. Rehg, William. "Solidarity and the common good: An analytic framework." Journal of Social Philosophy 38, no. 1 (2007): 7-21. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9833.2007.00363.x [29] Byerly and Byerly. "Collective virtue." 43 [30] Battaly, Heather. "Solidarity: Virtue or vice?." In Social virtue epistemology, pp. 303-324. Routledge, 2022. 304 [31] Ibid., 2011: 341 [32] It might be thought that displaying altruism by helping an enemy combatant at the expense of one’s fellow soldier may be psychologically satisfiying. For evidence that military physicians find it difficult to treat enemy combatants, see Lundberg, Kristina, Sofia Kjellström, Anders Jonsson, and Lars Sandman. "Experiences of Swedish military medical personnel in combat zones: adapting to competing loyalties." Military medicine 179, no. 8 (2014): 821-826. https://doi.org/10.7205/MILMED-D-14-00038. Lamblin, Antoine, Clément Derkenne, Marion Trousselard, and Marie-Ange Einaudi. "Ethical challenges faced by French military doctors deployed in the Sahel (Operation Barkhane): a qualitative study." BMC Medical Ethics 22 (2021): 1-13. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-021-00723-2 [33] Ibid., 2011: 344. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 12.1 (2004) 76-79 [Access article in PDF] Response to Kingsley Price, "How Can Music Seem to be Emotional" Forest Hansen Lake Forest College Just as at the International Symposium in Philosophy of Music Education IV (PME-IV) in Birmingham, Kingsley Price has demonstrated his acute logical prowess and his alluring wit. Then as now he was addressing the question of how music can seem (...) to have feelings, how it is that we attribute merriment, joy, sorrow, sadness, and the like to passages of instrumental music. On that occasion he systematically dissected the general theory which explains such attributions by reference to feelings or emotions caused in the listener, and he more explicitly criticized the causal model theories of Peter Kivy, Jerrold Levinson, and Roger Scruton. He half-promised, then, that he would in time examine another kind of relevant theory-namely one that explains by showing that music means feelings.Now he has examined for us what is probably the strongest version of such a theory-that of Susanne Langer-and found it wanting. And he has left us in limbo by refusing to reveal his own true and best theory. Perhaps for that we must wait for PME-VI!By way of responding to Price, I want to point out two things in his argument which I find rather slippery, one perhaps not so important and one that I think is [End Page 76] quite important. Then I will make a quasi-defense of Langer's theory of meaning which may evade Price's criticism. Finally, I would like to hazard a guess as to the kind of position which Price might put forward if he were not so reticent.First, the point that is not so important. There has long been an amazing amount of uncertainly about what constitutes an emotion or a feeling, amazing because philosophers and subsequently psychologists have been reflecting on and doing mental and laboratory experiments in the area for a long, long time. Some take feeling to be the larger field of which emotions are a subset; others do the reverse. Some differentiate feelings or emotions or both in terms of related behavior, whereas others put them in the box of subjective experience. So my first comments are meant to be cautionary with respect to speaking about feelings or emotions.Price, for instance, speaks of love as a kind of emotion. I find that peculiar, especially in the way he describes Romeo's love as "continuous, not a succession of discrete moments" and as something that has a more or less clear beginning and end with no lapses in between. But there must be many times that Romeo does not experience the so-called emotion, when he is asleep, for instance, or doing nothing between acts. I love my wife Valerie, but when I am speaking now, and in most of my actions every day, I am not experiencing some set of feelings that combine to make the emotion "Forest's love of Valerie." Often what we call emotions are only intermittently experienced and are perhaps best understood as dispositions or attitudes or beliefs or commitments.My second, and I hope more telling, point is to note how Price is playful with the notion of "reality." He makes it sound as if the distinction between appearance and reality is something that can be quite clear and unambiguous, even if it is not so in particular situations like that of a person seeing a nonexistent oasis or of Lady Macbeth seeing a nonexistent spot on her hand. But note how Price so often gives us examples from the world, so to speak, of art. Lady Macbeth and Romeo do not exist as real people. Those who enact their parts do, of course, but the Lady Macbeth actor is not fooled about the spot on the hand, and the Romeo actor might quite dislike the Juliet actor and not even be sexually attracted to her. Unlike us poor mortals, Romeo and Juliet live and die again and again... (shrink)

Student sex work is a current phenomenon all over the world, increasingly reported by the media in recent years. However, student sex work remains under-researched in Germany and is lacking direct first-hand reports from the people involved. Further, sex work remains stigmatized, and therefore, students practicing it could be at risk of social isolation and emotional or physical danger. Therefore, this study examines students working in the sex industry focusing on their personal experiences and attitudes toward them. An online (...) questionnaire was completed by 4386 students from Berlin universities. Students who identified themselves as sex workers were questioned with respect to their motivations to enter the sex industry, characteristics of their job, feelings after the intercourse, and perceived risks. Student non-sex workers were questioned regarding knowledge of and attitudes toward student sex workers. Most student sex workers reported that they entered the sex industry due to financial reasons. The majority reported offering services involving direct sexual intercourse. Disclosing their job to friends, family, or others was associated with less problems with social isolation and in romantic relationships. With a total of 22.9%, student non-sex workers reported never having heard about students working in the sex industry. The most frequent emotions mentioned by them with regard to student sex workers were compassion and dismay. There was no difference in happiness between student sex workers and non-sex working students. Through this research, it becomes evident that there are similarities between the student’s motivations to enter the sex industry, their feelings, and the problems they have to face. Moreover, prejudices still prevail about the life of student sex workers. Increasing understanding of student sex work might help those sex workers to live a less stigmatized life and thereby to make use of support from others. The universities as institutions could form the basis for this, e.g., by openly supporting student sex workers. This could help to encourage the rights of student sex workers and to gain perspective with respect to the sex industry. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Peter Singer and Christian Ethics: Beyond Polarization by Charles E. CamosyWerner WolbertPeter Singer and Christian Ethics: Beyond Polarization CHARLES E. CAMOSY Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. 278 pp. $29.99Peter Singer’s “Copernican revolution” against a sanctity of life ethic may be regarded, from a Roman Catholic viewpoint, as an expression of the “culture of death” denounced by John Paul II. One must keep in mind, however, that “we know (...) that historically there have been times where those participating in discussions about ethics disagree deeply about theory, but nevertheless come to important and even broad agreement about applied or practical ethics” (179). The aim of Camosy’s book is to sketch the various areas of agreement and disagreement between Peter Singer and Catholic moral theology as well as the possibilities of working together.There are issues even about the subject of abortion on which Singer and the Church agree: that moral relativism is wrong; that it is seriously wrong to kill a person; that the right to privacy (see Roe vs. Wade) does not apply to acts harming others; and that the right to abortion is not a constitutional matter (chapter 1). Both positions see a connection between abortion and infanticide, but both draw different conclusions. The disagreements between them are about who is to count as a person, which Camosy comments on in the rest of chapter 1 (27–37). In the area of euthanasia, the Church and Singer share some skepticism about brain death (chapter 2). Camosy discusses the church’s position on one’s moral status at the end of life and the Roman Catholic understandings of ordinary and extraordinary means, acts, and omissions. Commenting on public policy in that field, Camosy gives some useful and convincing illustrations of the slippery slope effect in different countries that have legalized active euthanasia or assisted suicide (68–81).With regard to problems of killing, however, Helga Kuhse’s The Sanctity of Life Doctrine in Medicine (Oxford University Press, 1987) should perhaps have been considered. On the subject of acting and refraining, I would recommend Dieter Birnbacher’s Tun und unterlassen (Reclam 1995).Commenting on Singer’s championing of the moral status of nonhuman animals, Camosy points to elements in the Christian tradition that may support Singer’s issue of animal liberation (chapter 3). I wonder why the discussion concentrates on domestic animals and the problems of eating meat or [End Page 225] vegetarianism but omits problems of environmental ethics (e.g., ecological balance). Would the aim of avoiding animal harm include saving animals from predators? And if some animals are to be regarded as persons, we may get in trouble with our basic conviction of the equality (of the dignity) of human beings—as the debate on the margins of human life shows.Duties to the poor are not in dispute except for “partial preferences” (166) for members of our family, kinship, or country (chapter 4). Speaking of “partiality” in this context is, however, a bit misleading. Since no one can care for all people, preferences of an ordo caritatis (order of love) are a necessary part of a system of coordination from which—ideally—all humans can benefit. (Recall Augustine in De doctrina Christiana, 1.28–29: “The interests of society, however, and its common bonds will be best conserved if kindness be shown to each individual in proportion to the closeness of his relationship.”) Chapter 5, which compares Singer’s ethical theory with Catholic moral theology, would need more discussion (e.g., on double effect, object, and act), which I cannot cover within the limits of this review. Overall, Camosy’s book makes a valuable contribution to the dialogue between Christian and secular ethics.Werner WolbertUniversity of SalzburgCopyright © 2014 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

Our emotional states affect how we perceive the world. If I am stressed, annoyed, or irritated, I might experience the sound of children laughing and screaming as they play around the house in a negative manner — it is unpleasant, loud, piercing, and so on. Yet, if I’m in a relaxed, happy, loving mood, the very same sounds might be experienced as pleasant, playful, warm, and so on. The sounds being made by the children are the same in (...) both cases, but how they are experienced differs. The auditory experience is affected by the emotional state that I am in. I perceive the sounds differently depending on how I’m feeling. Although this might at first seem to be a trivial observation, it certainly is not. We take for granted that our perceptual experiences give rise to justified beliefs and knowledge. Thus, if my perceptual experience of an object can differ based on my emotional state, and I take my perceptual experience to justify my beliefs and even lead to knowledge, then we might have a problem. If emotions — which are not fixed and in large part uncontrolled — affect our ability to accurately perceive the world, then they may undermine the justified beliefs and knowledge gained on the basis of our perceptual experience of the world. My goal here is to explore this potential problem. -/- I consider how we might understand the effect that emotions have on the justification of our perceptual beliefs about the world, beliefs that we acquire from a variety of sensory modalities — audition, gustation olfaction, and so on. I take the problem to be associated with one of two forms of perceptual influence: penetration or multisensory integration. In any given perceptual moment there are multiple sensory modalities and mental states at play, each affecting the overall experience. Whether we understand the influence of emotion on perception as a form of non-perceptual penetration or a form of non-visual sensory perception of the inner body — interoception — the potential epistemological difficulties remain: how can we be said to acquire justified beliefs and knowledge on the basis of such influenced perceptual experience. As has been the norm, only the five exteroceptive senses of vision, audition, olfaction, taste and touch are typically discussed in the context of sensory perception. However, as I argue, there is strong reason to accept the claim that emotional experience is a form of interoception, and that interoception ought to be considered when discussing sensory perception. In this way, then, I propose that clarifying the role played by interoception in sense perception across modalities is necessary if we are to make progress on the epistemological problems at hand. (shrink)

Our emotional states affect how we perceive the world. If I am stressed, annoyed, or irritated, I might experience the sound of children laughing and screaming as they play around the house in a negative manner — it is unpleasant, loud, piercing, and so on. Yet, if I’m in a relaxed, happy, loving mood, the very same sounds might be experienced as pleasant, playful, warm, and so on. The sounds being made by the children are the same in (...) both cases, but how they are experienced differs. The auditory experience is affected by the emotional state that I am in. I perceive the sounds differently depending on how I’m feeling. Although this might at first seem to be a trivial observation, it certainly is not. We take for granted that our perceptual experiences give rise to justified beliefs and knowledge. Thus, if my perceptual experience of an object can differ based on my emotional state, and I take my perceptual experience to justify my beliefs and even lead to knowledge, then we might have a problem. If emotions — which are not fixed and in large part uncontrolled — affect our ability to accurately perceive the world, then they may undermine the justified beliefs and knowledge gained on the basis of our perceptual experience of the world. My goal here is to explore this potential problem. -/- I consider how we might understand the effect that emotions have on the justification of our perceptual beliefs about the world, beliefs that we acquire from a variety of sensory modalities — audition, gustation olfaction, and so on. I take the problem to be associated with one of two forms of perceptual influence: penetration or multisensory integration. In any given perceptual moment there are multiple sensory modalities and mental states at play, each affecting the overall experience. Whether we understand the influence of emotion on perception as a form of non-perceptual penetration or a form of non-visual sensory perception of the inner body — interoception — the potential epistemological difficulties remain: how can we be said to acquire justified beliefs and knowledge on the basis of such influenced perceptual experience. As has been the norm, only the five exteroceptive senses of vision, audition, olfaction, taste and touch are typically discussed in the context of sensory perception. However, as I argue, there is strong reason to accept the claim that emotional experience is a form of interoception, and that interoception ought to be considered when discussing sensory perception. In this way, then, I propose that clarifying the role played by interoception in sense perception across modalities is necessary if we are to make progress on the epistemological problems at hand. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Personality in Greek Epic, Tragedy, and Philosophy: The Self in DialogueDavid M. JohnsonChristopher Gill. Personality in Greek Epic, Tragedy, and Philosophy: The Self in Dialogue. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996. vii 1 510 pp. Cloth, $85.Gill’s book is a wide-ranging attempt to improve our understanding of Greek poetic and philosophical thinking about the self and its role in ethics. His thesis is that the Greeks had an “objective-participant” model (...) of personality which is different in important ways from the various “subjective” and/or “individualist” models which have often formed the basis of modern interpretations. While the subjective understanding of the person privileges a unitary first-person perspective in a Cartesian way, Gill argues that the Greeks—as do some modern thinkers—speak of an interplay between parts that is best studied from the outside. The individualist strand of thought makes individual autonomy a keystone of morality in a way indebted to Kant; Gill argues that the more communal mode of ethics advocated recently by Williams and MacIntyre is closer to the Greek ideal. Gill is surely right that Cartesian and Kantian assumptions have had a distorting effect on some readings of Greek texts, and he has made important progress by presenting a different framework based on modern work touching on Greek thought about ethics and the self.After an introduction spelling out his objective-participant framework Gill devotes his first chapter to Homeric decision-making and a critique of the interpretations of Snell and Adkins. It is a mistake, he argues, to make self-consciousness the criterion for a full-blown concept of the self or for what counts as moral decision making. Homeric deliberations are closer in form to Aristotle’s thinking about decision making and the modern action theory which has reasons (whether conscious or not) replace the will as the basis for action. Nor are the Homeric heroes rightly criticized for allowing shame and their status to be considerations in their decision making; as Williams has argued, internalized shame can be a rather effective ethical motivator, and as both he and MacIntyre have argued, there is much to be said for allowing one’s place in society to inform one’s decision making. Gill’s argument here does not seem particularly novel, as his frequent citation of Williams and MacIntyre makes clear, but he does apply it thoroughly to four important Iliadic monologues in a way which clarifies these ideas and confirms their relevance for Homer.The second chapter provides an analysis of why we feel sympathy for the problematic heroes of Greek epic and tragedy, particularly Achilles and Medea, despite their controversial deeds. Here Gill rejects the views of Bradley and Butcher, who argued that it was the power of the character’s self-conscious personality that won us over, and the structuralist view of Redfield, who made [End Page 119] Achilles a mediator between the need to protect society and the desire for personal glory. Gill interestingly—and originally, as far as I know—argues that it is rather the hero’s acting out of an ethically exemplary gesture, based on implied or explicit second-order reasoning about the best sort of human life, that gains our interest and sympathy. For Gill it is important that the hero’s ethical position fall within the communal framework of his or her society: Achilles’ refusal to return to the fight is his way of showing how Agamemnon has undermined the code of heroic reciprocity; Medea’s murder of her children is, even more paradoxically, her means of showing Jason the importance of the bonds of philia.Taking Achilles as our example, Gill rejects the view of Parry and Whitman that Achilles’ heroism is deeply subjective. Gill argues that Achilles, in his great speech of book 9, is not rejecting the heroic code itself but only Agamemnon’s perversion of it. While this reading makes good sense of much of Achilles’ speech in Iliad 9, it is difficult to square with the end of the speech, in which Agamemnon seems to have faded from view, leaving Achilles to question the heroic code itself. This is not to say that Achilles puts... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Clinical CommentaryRathi Mahendran, Associate ProfessorThe doctor-patient relationship has an important role in medical practice and in medical ethics.1 In modern times, the word “boundary” is used to frame the relationship. In the context of therapy, Gutheil and Simon have described it as “the edge of appropriate or professional behaviour, transgression of which involves the therapist stepping out of the clinical role”.2 Boundaries establish for medical professionals the distinctions between (...) professional and personal identity.3 In a therapeutic setting, boundaries distinguish acceptable and appropriate interactions and the parameters of professional conduct.4 Implicit in the concept of boundaries are the basic ethical principles of beneficence (doing good, acting in another person’s best interests), non-maleficence (doing no harm) and justice with respect for the individual’s needs and autonomy.The doctor-patient relationship is particularly important in psychological therapies where trust, integrity, confidentiality, a safe environment and empathy are fundamental to the therapeutic process. A person with BPD manifests emotional dysregulation with instability in interpersonal relationships, self-image, affect and impulsivity.5 This, together with identity disturbances, makes them a particularly vulnerable group with heightened reliance on their therapist.6Psychotherapy has been described as an interaction which serves to alleviate distress, change behaviour and alter the patient’s perspective of issues. This description however does not reflect the magnitude and significant power differentials in the relationship. Trust and a close bond are needed to allow issues to be addressed.7 In the process, patients’ fantasies and unmet emotional needs [End Page 191] might lead them to knowingly or unknowingly view their therapist differently and to seek a relationship. Similarly, multiple factors in the therapist (situational factors, intrapsychic and interpersonal factors) can undermine the therapeutic process.8Boundary TransgressionsThere is really no universal definition for a “therapeutic boundary” possibly because, as Simon explains, it is “a function of the nature of the patient, the treatment and the status of the therapeutic alliance”.9 Minor violations are referred to as boundary crossings which may arise because the therapist exhibits poor judgement.10 Such actions are non-exploitative and pose little risk to patients.11 Duckworth et al. describe how boundary crossings begin as “exaggerations of desirable attitudes”. Special arrangements and sessions for the patient and extending therapy sessions may be construed as desirable and arguably as effective for the therapeutic alliance.12 Yet, if not examined objectively, they become “subtle breaks in the therapeutic frame”.13Psychotherapists trained in analytic therapy hold very rigid views of doctor-patient interactions in psychological therapy. Some would argue that providing a personal telephone number for a patient in crisis situations is a permissible boundary crossing.14 Similarly, self-disclosure for modelling and on-site behaviour therapy interventions may be viewed as necessary for the therapeutic encounter.15The most commonly recognised boundary crossing, however, is self-disclosure.16 It occurs when the therapist relates a personal experience or information to the patient which is how the incident began in this case.17 It gradually progressed to an informal, friendly style of interaction, accepting a hug, thanking her for being a good friend, all of which are dissonant with the psychotherapeutic process.18In the first place, should the therapist have even offered to drive her home, notwithstanding the heavy downpour? While that offer could be viewed as helpful, the disclosure of marital problems was inappropriate and created confusion. We can only speculate upon the therapist’s behaviour. Was he trying to establish for his patient that they were both experiencing problems to gain her trust? Was he exhibiting some form of identification or did he have some unmet need for affirmation and for care and nurturance? It is difficult to rationalise the apparently thoughtless and impulsive behaviour.19The therapist was, at that point, vulnerable with marital problems and facing separation.20 Procci has highlighted that therapists who breach boundaries, “usually have serious personal problems and may have a psychiatric diagnoses”.21 Even though the relationship was non-sexual, it [End Page 192] moved beyond a boundary crossing and should be viewed as a boundary violation. While the most serious form of boundary violation is the sexual encounter... (shrink)

“Separation/disassociation from what is dear is suffering . . . ” declares the first noble truth of suffering, in a statement that is overwhelming in its decisiveness and scope, encompassing both the severance of ties to loved ones and the discontinuity of any attempt to hold on to what is pleasant or liked. However, in first-millennium Indian Sanskrit classical lore, Buddhist not excepted, separation comes to mean and convey much more—in terms of emotional phenomena—than just suffering. It is understood (...) in terms of diverse and sometimes excluding emotional phenomena, which are experienced under different (and sometimes contrastive) contexts. In Sanskrit belletristic literature and aesthetics, where lovers’ experience of “love in separation” is listed under the rubric of the erotic emotion, separation comes with its own particular sub-moods, typical landscapes, and associated practices, all of which are extended also under virahabhakti to the religious realm and the highly aestheticized relations with the divine. And in the case of philosophical texts and themes connected with Śramaṇic ideology, Buddhist and non-Buddhist alike, a sense of doom regarding one’s impending demise and the inevitable separation from all that is dear becomes a dominant mood, and carries with it normative and moral prescriptions, a theorization of action, and a particular kind of perceptual salience. These various outlooks on separation, however, are not unrelated, and often both come into play within the confines of a single work. This is especially true in the case of the Buddhist belletristic poetical works (mahākāvya) of Aśvaghoṣa (second century CE ), Life of the Buddha (Buddhacarita, BC) and Beautiful Nanda (Saundarananda, SN), in which separation—and here I refer primarily to the term viprayoga in both its concrete sense as the separation from loved ones and its broader existential sense—features as a central theme. Exploring the range of meanings and dynamic use of the term within Aśvaghoṣa’s SN, the first part of this article provides a brief theoretical framework with which to approach Aśvaghoṣa’s understanding of separation and its relation to the emotions. In this regard, I argue that separation, more than just an umbrella term for a cluster of associated feelings and emotions, serves as a unique emotional context—prescribing specific kinds of perceptual and moral saliency, practices and regimes of the self—under which emotional phenomena become meaningful. As such, its analysis may also contribute to the ongoing scholarly discussion about the adequacy of using the very category of emotion in the context of Buddhist literature. Drawing on this framework and focusing on Aśvaghoṣa’s BC, the second part of the article turns to deal specifically with the role he allocates in the work to philosophical moral arguments regarding separation. Through analysis of the workings of a particular recurrent argument that I will call “the argument from separation,” I argue that, in addition to its role in justifying Buddhist ideology, it functions in Aśvaghoṣa’s BC primarily as a self-therapy of the emotions. (shrink)

In complex societies, there will always be situations in which an individual's deeply held beliefs conflict with the collective norms of the society. When only one individual challenges those norms, the norms generally hold. When challenges come from many individuals, the norms themselves may change. The tolerance for different beliefs will depend upon the political structure of the society and the specific beliefs that are being challenged.The Greek tragedy Antigone is an exploration of the choices that rulers (...) can make regarding such conflicts. They can either tolerate the unpopular and subversive views of an individual or punish the individual in a way that attempts to uphold the existing rules, bolster the... (shrink)

Cultural differences in daily emotions were investigated by administering emotion questionnaires four times a day throughout a one-week period. Respondents were American students, Japanese students living in the United States, and Japanese students living in Japan. Americans rated their emotional lives as more pleasant than did the Japanese groups. The dimension of emotional pleasantness (unpleasant-pleasant) was predicted better by interdependent than independent concerns in the Japanese groups, but this was not the case in the American group where the (...) variance predicted by interdependent and independent concerns did not significantly differ. It is argued that cultural differences in the concerns most strongly associated with pleasantness are related to differences in ideals, norms, and practices of what it means to be a person. Cultural differences in the concerns are assumed to implicate differences in the nature of emotional experience. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:And When May I Cry?Juggling Emotions in Healthcare InterpretingMateo Rutherford-RojasDisclaimers. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of the patient and the patient's family.Baby Oliver had been in the NICU almost since he was born. Oliver was born with a relatively simple congenital problem, which required him to have a routine corrective surgery.Unfortunately, routine surgeries don't always deliver routine results. Due to unexpected complications during the (...) operation and a prolonged lack of blood flow, several of Oliver's tiny organs suffered partial necrosis. It was just a matter of time until little Oliver's life could no longer be sustained with tubes, pumps, liquids, and pain medications. How much time Oliver's tiny body could hold out was unclear—he had days, maybe a week. The care team had already communicated to Oliver's parents, who were still teens themselves, the options that were available. The team provided sufficient medical detail for the parents to understand the logic of the situation. They faced the most difficult decision any parent—past, present, or future—would ever have to make. Before his birth, the parents expected to take little Oliver home, to love and nurture him, and witness him grow well into adulthood. Now, they had two choices. They could either choose to disconnect Oliver from the machines and let him die in their loving arms or watch him fade away, connected to his incubator and accompanying equipment, barely able to touch him through the multiple life-sustaining wires and tubes.The message had been delivered in Oliver's parents' language many times. In fact, every Spanish interpreter on staff had worked with the care team and Oliver's family at some time during their stay. Their ears heard it, but their minds could not comprehend how a routine operation could end like this. It is in these moments that most people rely heavily on their faith, as did Oliver's parents; waiting for God's miracle to happen.Perhaps it was the Chaplain's suggestion that God's miracles are not dependent on medical machines and life-sustaining equipment. Or that perhaps God needs Oliver and knows his family is strong enough to let him go. But at moments like these, religious philosophy and the nature of God do not provide a simple and clear answer. Still, someone has to decide, "Yes, it's time to hold him and say goodbye" or "No, we are not yet ready to let go of our hope."I don't know what the final deciding factor was or when that moment came for these young parents so full of love and hope for their new family. All I know is that I had the tremendous honor and [End Page E6] responsibility of interpreting for the parents and the care team when the gravity of the situation had penetrated all those human mechanisms of self-preservation. Oliver's parents chose to embrace their son, hold him in their arms one last time, and say, "Goodbye, we love you."This situation is not unusual at our hospital. As one of the nation's primary academic children's hospitals, patients come to us for miracle cures or to die in comfort and peace. In this case, what was unusual and touched the hearts of everyone in the room—surgeons, specialists of every organ system, bedside nurses, chaplains, social workers, and yes, the interpreter—was the final message the parents had for the care team. "Please, please, our only wish is that no parent ever have to make a decision like this again, please." We were all shocked and humbled by these anciently wise teenage souls whose hearts were broken, and their primary concern was for every other parent in the world, whom they would never meet—"May they never feel our pain."How I wish their desires had come true. However, soon after the situation with Baby Oliver, I would find myself again in the NICU interpreting the same messages to two other families, though their stories were distinctly different. Unlike little Oliver, the babies in the later cases were diagnosed with genetic disorders that presented little... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Response to Deborah Bradley, “Oh that Magic Feeling! Multicultural Human Subjectivity, Community, and Fascism’s Footprints”Marja HeimonenDeborah Bradley has written a most interesting paper that is concerned with anti-racism pedagogy and significant musical moments. Her study has a moral and an ethical dimension; the style of writing is fresh and honest, and she is deeply involved in her important theme. In addition, she is able to explore both (...) sides of the same coin: how music education may support not only anti-racism but also fascism.The approach might be characterized as socially and politically oriented philosophical research. I think that it is most important to shed light on philosophical and theoretical concepts and make them clearer through practical examples, and this is how Bradley explores her research subject. The theories and concepts she uses, such as the concept “multicultural human subjectivity,” are clarified not only by theoretical exploration but also through the personal experiences of human beings particularly interviews of choir members.A more coherent structure, and a focus on a theme, might have helped the writer to go deeper in her research subject, but in that case, the paper would have very probably lost its mission for music educators: the promotion of anti-racism as part of critical pedagogy, not only theoretically but also in practice. Moreover, the structure of the paper and its philosophical argumentation might have been clearer if the writer had focused just on the first theme in her paper: the positive effects of music education, especially a world choir music curriculum, argued to promote both self-understanding (connected with identity) and tolerance between different kinds of human beings. But, the writer also decided to explain [End Page 85] the darker side of the same phenomenon, music and music education used for questionable instrumental purposes and ideologies; for promoting fascism, for instance.I think that this turning point is indeed fascinating and it sheds light on the multiple functions of music education in our societies. Music and education in Nazi Germany is taken as an example, but it is not only the specific historical circumstances, the Third Reich, that demonstrates these problems: “freedom” and “democracy” can be interpreted in various ways, and creating “better people” may refer to different kinds of educational aims also in our multicultural world of today. What should music educators do? Should music education be separated from all kinds of social aspects related to moral and ethical education?Bradley raises questions rather than gives answers, which is as valuable as aiming at finding one right answer (that may not exist). Of course, music’s autonomy could be one basis for music education: the aim of music educators could be to teach children to analyze musical structures and to understand musical works cognitively. A Kantian view of pure art, aesthetic experience, morality and beauty, or excellence as the aim of artistic activity might also be taken as an aim in music education. Following these views, the choir director should rather train the choir members to sing purely in rhythm than to concentrate on authentic emotions, promoting their growing into morally conscious and ethically responsible human beings. Philosophically, the debate between an aesthetic approach and a more pragmatic (praxial) one might be found behind the questions addressed in this paper,1 although Bradley rather refers to the German philosopher Theodor W. Adorno’s ideas on music education.Adorno, who lived in the shadow of Hitler’s Germany and Stalin’s Russia, is a multidimensional sociologist, musician, composer, musicologist, and philosopher, whose works have been interpreted in various ways: actually, he not only defends music’s autonomy, but simultaneously argues that the ideal of music’s self-containment is just an illusory projection (of a bourgeois subject). In other words, his dialectical method aims at keeping opposing views together, and his ideas—rooted in critical social theory—have become a source for new critical musicology.2 Adorno was not a music educator or a pedagogue in instrumental or vocal music, and his view of teaching contemporary music for children could, in my view, be regarded almost as questionable as the German views he criticized as fascist: the aim to educate amateur musicians... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Thomas Aquinas and Cognitive TherapyChristopher Megone (bio)Keywordsemotions, rationality, cognitivism, Aristotelian psychology, powersGiuseppe butera has written a stimulating and persuasive defence of the view that Aquinas’s philosophical psychology (APP) can provide “a profound and cogent philosophical framework for cognitive therapy (CT).” In this short commentary, I respond to Butera’s claims from the perspective of one possible reading of the moral psychology of Aristotle, one of Aquinas’s major philosophical influences. Given (...) the general debt that Aquinas owes to Aristotle, as noted by Butera, this may provide a helpful slant on Butera’s interpretation of Aquinas.Indeed although Butera offers Aquinas as an alternative source for a philosophical underpinning of CT, rather than the Stoics cited by Beck, one might think that Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle could in any case be put forward as equally fruitful areas for inquiry in this context. Thus, one might think that Socrates’ moral psychology, which led him to the cognitivist claim that virtue is knowledge, provides a commitment to a CT-related perspective that both predated and itself influenced the Stoics. And one might then expect to learn things of relevance to CT from the ways in which Plato and Aristotle responded to that Socratic cognitivist outlook.From such an Aristotelian perspective, then, Butera’s approach is very welcome. He makes a strong case for considering Aquinas’s broadly Aristotelian conception of the human person as a desirable alternative to any account that depends on Cartesian substance dualism (of mind and body). On the Aristotelian account, by contrast, the human person is itself a single substance comprised of form (the soul) and matter (the body), the ensouled body constituting a substantial unity. The soul is a set of essential powers, the powers each human has which makes him/her a human being. These powers are necessarily linked in such a way as to comprise that unity and enmattered in a body, each enmattered set of powers constituting an individual member of the species.As Butera also notes, Aquinas follows Aristotle in supposing there to be five basic kinds of human essential powers—vegetative or nutritive, locomotive, sensitive or perceptual, appetitive or desiderative, and rational. Taken together, these distinguish humans from other species. And broadly speaking Aquinas thinks of the distinctively human motivational features as having three parts, non-rational appetites or desires, appetites or desires open to reason, and the purely rational intellect.Within this broad framework, Butera offers an account of APP and in particular of the emotions whose treatment is so important with CT. Given that this account is broadly congenial from an Aristotelian perspective, I offer three main comments. First, Butera makes interesting methodological claims, which I briefly explore. Second, and most [End Page 373] substantially, I examine Butera’s claims about emotions in APP in terms of some Aristotelian points about the acquisition of emotions. Third, I suggest that these latter points bring out a slight tension between the way in which Butera endorses CT at the outset of his paper and his slightly more qualified remarks at the end of it.MethodIn footnote 1, Butera talks of “the differences and complementarity of the methods employed by philosophers and scientists.” However, although he fairly notes that the ambitions of his paper far exceed its scope, so he cannot be expected to have elaborated this theme, his methodological comments do raise some questions as to how exactly we might understand the relation between the two modes of inquiry. He suggests, as noted, that APP can provide the philosophical underpinnings for CT. He goes on to indicate that APP can provide a deeply rooted and highly articulated philosophical explanation for the effectiveness of CT (347). This consists in showing that the principles and methods of CT can be philosophically grounded by APP (348), which he exemplifies by identifying seven points of contact between CT and APP.Butera contrasts this approach with that of Beck, who is content for CT to be “an empirically grounded system of psychological principles and therapeutic methods” (347). So what does the philosophical material add? According to Butera, “employing the rational, dialectical method of the philosophers, [Aquinas] is able to sound depths inaccessible... (shrink)

Psychological research shows that our emotions and feelings often guide the moral decisions we make about our own lives and the social groups to which we belong. But should we be concerned that out important moral judgments can be swayed by "hot" passions, such as anger, disgust, guilt, shame and sympathy? Aren't these feelings irrational and counterproductive? Using a functional conflict theory of emotions (FCT), Giner-Sorolla proposes that each emotion serves a number of different functions, sometimes inappropriately, and that moral (...) emotions in particular are intimately tied to problems faced by the individuals in a group, and by groups interacting with each other. Specifically, the author suggests that these emotions help us, as individuals and group members, to: Appraise developments in the environment Learn through association Regulate our own behavior Communicate convincingly with others. Drawing on extensive research, including many studies from the author's own lab, this book shows why emotions work to encourage reasonable moral behaviour, and why they sometimes fail. This is the first single-authored volume in the field of psychology dedicated to a separate examination of the major moral and positive emotions. As such, the book is ideal reading for researchers, postgraduates and undergraduates of social psychology, sociology, philosophy and politics. (shrink)

Testing assumptions proposed by Frenzel’s reciprocal model of teacher emotions (e.g., Frenzel, 2014 ), this study explored relations between teachers’ appraisals concerning the attainment and importance of their teaching goals, and their emotions. Specifically, we addressed teachers’ goals of high student performance, motivation, discipline, and high-quality teacher–student relationship and three key discrete emotions, namely, enjoyment, anger, and anxiety, during teaching. We had 244 secondary school teachers (70.1% female) self-report their goal attainment and importance appraisals and emotional experiences with (...) respect to up to three different classes they currently taught. Results from single- and two-level multivariate multiple regression analyses largely supported the relevance of the goal attainment appraisals for teachers’ emotions both on the between-person and the within-person level. Goal importance appraisals proved to be of secondary relevance. On the between-person level, those teachers who positively appraised the attainment of motivation, discipline, and teacher–student relationship quality proved to report more enjoyment and less anxiety and anger. On the within-person level, teachers reported enjoying teaching those classes more, which they perceived as better performing, more motivated and disciplined, and with whom they had a better relationship. Anger and anxiety were negatively linked to appraisals pertaining to the attainment of discipline and teacher–student relationship quality. Across both analysis perspectives, teacher–student relationship quality attainment showed particularly strong links with all three emotions. Because teachers’ subjective evaluations regarding student behaviors were shown to be highly relevant for their emotions, we conclude that teachers could be supported in modifying their emotional experiences through cognitive reappraisal. Interventions targeting teachers’ relationships with students, and their cognitive judgments thereof, seem particularly promising. (shrink)

Human beings pass through a series of life stages since birth. These stages beginning at the infancy even in the mother’s womb are accompanied with a period extending to the senescence and the last stages of the life. Creation of human beings and various stages of the life are mentioned in the Qurʾān. Besides, it is referred to the senescence. In addition to the expressions sheikh, shayb, ʽajūz and kibar indicating to the senescence, ardhal al-ʿumur is also pointed out (...) in the Qurʾān in this regard. This article aims to identify in which context and meaning the wording regarding ardhal al-ʿumur and senescence are used in the Qurʾān and to reveal the relation between these terms. Since, the term ardhal al-ʿumur and senile dementia are directly correlated in the commentaries usually and the interpretations build the perception that these two expressions are almost synonyms. Are ardhal al-ʿumur and dementia closely associated with each other? Are the other terms in the Qurʾān indicating to the senescence correlated with the dementia? Our study aims to explain the expression ardhal al-ʿumur in the Qurʾān in this regard. Furthermore, the other terms regarding the senescence expressed in the Qurʾān are reviewed in this respect. SUMMARY The Qurʾān tells the creation of human beings and refers to the various stages of their lives as well. The explanations beginning with the creation state the prenatal period, infancy and childhood, adolescence and adulthood of human beings. The Qurʾān refers to the senescence as well, the last stage of the life. In this regard, ardhal al-ʿumur, sheikh, shayb, ʽajūz and kibar are the terms in the Qurʾān associated with the senescence. Especially nowadays, the senescence is a considerable focus of the science, besides being mentioned in the Qurʾān. This article discusses the subject scientifically as well. The senescence is defined with various aspects since it expresses a period having physical, psychological and social dimensions. Furthermore, certain classifications regarding the senescence are made and physiological changes associated with the chronological age are more emphasized. It has been indicated that the senescence is divided into two: biological and chronological aging. According to this chronological aging is the same for everyone while biological aging varies from individual to individual. The senescence is acknowledged as the last development stage of the human life in terms of social sciences and considered as an on-going universal process between birth and death. Therefore, the senescence is interpreted relatively while the aging is interpreted universally. So, everyone gets old; however, the senescence means a life period varying from individual to individual. The senescence affects the individual both health-wise and psychologically, sociologically and economically. In other words; the senescence, a tough period, is a phenomenon which deeply affects the human beings and all their characteristics making them exist. The senescence is addressed in the Qurʾān with various expressions. Ardhal al-ʿumur, foremost among these, is mentioned twice in the Qurʾān (al-Nakhl 16/70, al-Ḥac 22/5). The exegetes generally consider ardhal al-ʿumur as the physiological exhaustion of an individual due to aging and as the period when dementia is experienced. The characteristics of the stage called as ardhal al-ʿumur in the Qurʾān are explained with the following statement: turning into a person who does not know anything from the person who used to know many things. Just because of this sentence, ardhal al-ʿumur is construed with dementia. Are arzali’l-ʽumur and dementia directly interrelated? This article also reviews the other terms stated in the Qurʾān regarding the senescence from this aspect. Sheikh, another expression stated in the Qurʾān regarding the senescence, is mentioned four times (Hūd 11/72, Yūsuf 12/78, al-Qaṣaṣ 28/23, al-Muʼmin 40/67) and it is described with the word kabīr in two of them. The lexical meaning of sheikh is an old person in terms of age and appearance. Moreover, sheikh is used as an adjective to describe the individuals who have wisdom in customs. So, the word sheikh both means an individual who is well on in life and is the expression of supremacy in terms of knowledge and experience. Shayb, another expression stated in the Qurʾān regarding the senescence, is mentioned three times (Maryam 19/4, al-Rūm 30/54, al-Muzzammil 73/17) and means hair greying and describes a physiological change in the senescence. ʽAjūz stated in the Qurʾān for the senescence is mentioned in four different chapters (Hūd 11/72, al-Shuʽarā’ 26/171, al-Ṣāffāt 37/135, al-Dhāriyāt 51/29) and expresses incapacity of performing many actions. ʽAjūz is another expression in the Qurʾān meaning elderliness. The senescence is implied with this expression too; however, the dementia is not mentioned. Kibar, the last wording associated with the senescence, is mentioned in six verses (al-Baqara 2/266; Āl-i-ʽImrān 3/40, Ibrāhim 14/39, al-Hicr 15/54, al-Isrā 17/23, Maryam 19/8). The word kibar means the senescence and physical power loss; nevertheless, is not interpreted as dementia. To our knowledge, the explanations regarding the senescence and dementia in most of the commentaries cannot be corresponded in the Qurʾān as if they are synonyms. This perception can be generated due to the statements pointing out the dementia in the lexical meaning of ardhal al-ʿumur. It is understood in the light of the data acquired by today’s science that the dementia is not a natural result of the senescence but rather one of its risks, which is already proved by the fact that the science discusses the dementia separately from normal aging process. Therefore, there is not a general picture of dementia including all elders. Thus, it is possible to define ardhal al-ʿumur as a later part of life which includes some elders and affects them physiologically, psychologically, sociologically, etc., in addition, they lose their mental faculties in that period. Each expression regarding the senescence in the Qurʾān reveals the picture of the senescence pursuant to the integrity of the Qurʾān. The senescence in the Qurʾān is an ineluctable reality. The fact that this period is clearly expressed in the verses aims that this reality can be perceived by human beings and they can be prepared for this period. Some problems that elders experience are also mentioned in the Qurʾān. When the other terms in the Qurʾān associated with the senescence apart from ardhal al-ʿumur are reviewed, it is seen that the aforementioned problems that may be observed at later ages are hair greying, bone diseases, incapability and weakness in doing some actions. Today, there are various disciplines concerning the elders and the information obtained from these disciplines shows that these problems are a lot more than the ones mentioned in the Qurʾān. However, it is not expected that the Qurʾān discusses the facts as a science book since it is a holy book. When ardhal al-ʿumur is evaluated in the light of scientific data, it appears as a sickness period when some elders experience mental problems such as dementia/blackout. On the one hand, there will be elders who experience these problems; on the other hand, there will be some who do not. All expressions regarding the senescence in the Qurʾān do not lead to the fact that the aging leads to the dementia directly. Ardhal al-ʿumur within the integrity of the Qurʾān expresses that senile dementia affects some individuals while it has not any impact on the others. Therefore, ardhal al-ʿumur is one of the life stages affecting not every elder but some of them. The fact that different terms are stated in the Qurʾān regarding the elders points out various aspects of the aging process creating different effects. The second important reason why the aging is mentioned in the Qurʾān is to emphasize the value of the elders and the respect that should be showed to them. Besides, it is also underlined in the Qurʾān that the elders are so precious that they cannot be left alone socially and psychologically. Furthermore, the elders are the individuals worthy of love and being valued. Thus, it is suggested in the Qurʾān to love, respect and honour the elders and to live with them regardless of whether they will experience ardhal al-ʿumur or not. Therefore, the human beings are reminded to look after the elders, esteem them materially and morally, as they deserve, and to act considering the characteristics of this period. (shrink)

ABSTRACT There are three kinds of bonds between human beings: biological and natural; legal and artificial; social and voluntary. Marriage can be seen as an artificial and legal means of shifting the loose bonding of the third category of relationship into the deep and inescapable bonding of the first. The desire to create bonds of this type is widespread, but non‐bonding, too, has been recommended either as good in itself—a way of achieving peace of mind or personal emancipation through wider (...) relationships—or as necessary self‐denial for some higher cause. In the latter case, the bonds of family are seen as a positive good, a view shared, though for different reasons, by religious and political conservatives and by revisionist feminists. In contrast to this, three philosophical conceptions which would favour unbonding, or detachment from emotional ties, are categorised here as (a) the Stoic, (b) the Existentialist and (c) the Feminist. Within the Feminist ideal, it is radical, rather than liberal or socialist feminism that has most in common with Stoic or Existentialist ideals. These ideals are considered, together with various alternatives to marriage, and are judged not to override the need for deep personal bonds between human beings. These personal bonds of love and commitment are compared with the alternative bonds of religion and politics and it is concluded that, whatever forms they take, personal bonds have fundamental moral priority in the lives of human beings. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 8.1 (2001) 13-15 [Access article in PDF] Anorexia:Social World and the Internal Woman Juliet Mitchell This is a nicely presented argument--as far as it goes, but is that far enough? The problems of a reconciliation between psychoanalytic and feminist-social explanations of anorexia seem to me greater than this account allows. Social pressures and intra-family dynamics and innate mental characteristics doubtless all play a part and (...) can perfectly well co-exist side-by-side--that is, anorexia (or whatever else) will be a product of all three. The question is: Do these three dimensions need to interact in such a way that each is transformed by the interaction? By using Kleinian notions of phantasy (unconscious), Sarah Richmond is able to propose a reconciliation with social theory that is reminiscent for me of John Bowlby's work in, say, vol. 3 of his trilogy, Attachment and Loss (1969-73). There is nothing wrong with this--indeed, it must be right, but I think it misses the difficulty. The difficulty can, perhaps, best be addressed if we look not at phantasy but at the symptom. If a phantasy is truly unconscious, its form will not bear a recognizable relationship to what it is about--it will need to be deduced from the "free associations" as with a dream. If it is recognizable, it is almost certainly preconscious and can be made conscious without any intervening association or interpretation--it will look like what it in fact represents.With phantasy a slippage between unconscious and preconscious is common. The unconscious phantasy latent in anorexia may be envy of the mother's fertility and, at the same time, a preconscious refusal of the secondary status accorded in Western society to motherhood (Choderow 1978)--it can be both, as Sarah Richmond says, but the unconscious envy will be distorted. An unconscious envious phantasy about the mother might attack the full "womanly" maternal body--it is more likely to do so in a disguised form. The preconscious hostile response to social pressure to become a mother will attack this body probably in an undisguised form.The "true" anorexic sees a grossly fat person where there is a grotesquely thin one. The "real" is transformed and "unrecognizable." Why is there a delusion at the center of anorexia and what are the features and meanings of this delusion? In phantasy, the line between unconscious and preconscious is often not drawn. This cannot be the case with the symptom. A symptom is always a distortion. The same is the case with a delusion--by definition a delusion has transformed "reality."A second characteristic of a symptom is its driven, compulsive quality: The anorexic cannot stop even though she may want to. Clearly, social theory doesn't touch this--but nor does invoking unconscious phantasy per se because here the "unconscious" is often, technically, preconscious; that is to say, available to consciousness without translation.I have not myself made any proper study of anorexia. The following suggestions are just [End Page 13] that--suggestions. I have studied hysteria (Mitchell 2000), and anorexia was once considered an expression of hysteria rather than a discrete illness. The relationship of unconscious symptom or preconscious phantasy in the two conditions are, I suggest, the same. In Hystories, Elaine Showalter (who also considers anorexia to be hysterical) cites a nineteenth-century case of a man with pendulum spasms and suggests that, the man being poor and inarticulate, his spasms may have indicated his hatred of his job. He was a watchmaker (1997). If so, this would be what I am calling preconscious--unconsciously, we cannot know what it means without associations. We can make a guess that shows the process, however. The sort of meaning it might have had is that the watchmaker could possibly have had forbidden grandiose desires that had been repressed but inadequately so; hence, these desires would have returned in the conflictual form of the compulsive, bizarre symptom. The symptomatic expression of his forbidden desire, I playfully suggested, might have been modeled on Voltaire's well... (shrink)

Art therapy encourages the use of art materials to express feelings and thoughts in a supportive environment. Art materials differ in fluidity and are postulated to thus differentially enhance emotional response (the more fluid the material the more emotion). Yet, to the best of our knowledge, this assumption has not been empirically tested. The current study aimed to examine the emotional and physiological responses to art making with different art materials. We were particularly interested in vagal (...) activity, indexed by heart rate variability (HRV), because of its association with numerous health related outcomes. In this study, fifty adults (mean age 33 ± 10.27 years, 52% males) participated in a repeated measures experiment, in which they were requested to draw with three art materials (order randomized) differing in their level of fluidity (pencil, oil-pastels and gouache paint) intermittent with periods of music. We measured the emotional response to art making with each material using a self-report measure and matrices of HRV using a wearable electrocardiogram (ECG) device. We calculated two indices of HRV, one indicative of parasympathetic nervous system (PNS) activity, and one indicative of sympathetic nervous system (SNS) activity. Art making with gouache paint and oil pastels resulted in improved positive mood, while pencil did not. Art making explained approximately 35% of the variability in parasympathetic reactivity, which may indicate changes in emotional regulation processes during the art-making task. Yet, fluidity was not sufficient to explain the reaction to art-making. Surprisingly, the largest suppression of PNS and augmentation of the SNS occurred during art-making with oil-pastels and not with Gouache. Moreover, PNS and SNS reactivity to oil-pastels were related to emotional valance, which may point to emotional engagement. We can conclude that art-making with oil-pastels, first created in Japan in 1924 to increase self-expression of students, results in a unique emotional and physiological responses. These findings might be explained by the enhanced tactile experience of art-making with oil-pastels along with their relative fluidity, triggering an arousal pattern. Further studies that take the format and presentation of the materials as well as the content of the artwork, into account, are needed. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Reason and Emotion. Essays in Ancient Moral Psychology and Ethical TheoryEve Browning ColeJohn M. Cooper, Reason and Emotion. Essays in Ancient Moral Psychology and Ethical Theory. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999. Pp. xiii + 605. Cloth, $75.00.This collection of essays spans 27 years of John Cooper's career as an interpreter of ancient philosophy. Its earliest essay, "The Magna Moralia and Aristotle's Moral Philosophy," already shows Cooper's distinctive approach; (...) he seeks to discover "a simpler and more natural way" (200) to understand the discrepancies between this small treatise and Aristotle's major ethical works than by the comparatively convoluted theory of Dirlmeier. In seeking this simpler and more natural interpretive route, Cooper attends to "the philosophical content of the work" (202), rather than considerations of style and linguistic usage. He concludes with frank discussion of the problems which his interpretation cannot solve; these are dismissed with characteristic exasperation-italics: "... one must not expect to explain everything..." (210). He confines his rougher polemical points to footnotes (Dirlmeier "doesn't even face the question squarely" in note 19, hence he is "wildly off" in note 28). [End Page 430]These characteristics run through all the essays here collected. Only two of the 23 essays are previously unpublished: a reconsideration of Xenophon as a source on Socrates, and a treatment of pleasure and desire in Epicurus. Other essays take up moral problems examined by Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and several Hellenistic philosophers or schools. A theme running through most if not all the discussions is the desire (shared by the ancient philosophers and by Cooper equally, it would seem) to develop and defend a viable eudaimonism. The relation between human goodness and human happiness must be shown to be one of extremely close affinity, such that the virtuous are also the happy, even in adversity. Thus though no attempt is made to connect the essays into a coherent argument leading to a global thesis about ancient moral philosophy, the book nevertheless contains the ingredients for such an argument and thesis. The book presenting such an argument and thesis could in some ways be both more elegant and more helpful than this collection; it could spend fewer of its pages in arguing against other interpreters over minor differences (the standard journal-article format for our time), more of its pages awakening the texts, eliciting their message, and presenting it in a form useful for guiding life. Perhaps Cooper will write such a book soon.But the present volume will certainly be of interest to scholars and students, who will find in it much to enjoy and ponder. Generally what is striking about Cooper's interpretations is their freshness. He is at his best when dislodging some stale orthodoxy. The essay on Xenophon's Socrates is a case in point. The portrait of Socrates which emerges in Xenophon's Memorabilia is usually taken to be far less accurate than that presented in Plato's earlier dialogues. The Memorabilia seldom appear on the required reading lists of Greek philosophy courses, nor does Xenophon's version of Socrates' approach to moral questions receive even a fraction of the scholarly attention devoted to Plato's early work. Cooper convincingly shows this neglect to rest on a prejudice. The Socrates of Xenophon's portrait addresses a different kind of audience than that of Plato; the difference in the style of questioning and in the topics discussed reflects the historical Socrates' sensitivity to his partners in conversation. He addresses them where they live (so to speak), and this makes him "all the more remarkable a person" (14).Two other strengths run throughout the essays here collected. No matter how intense the exegetical quibble may have become on any given page, Cooper is able to make a sudden soaring flight upward and provide a synoptic view of the broader philosophical terrain, both for any given philosopher and for that philosopher's contemporaries, predecessors, and successors. These flights are sometimes dizzying and often unpredictable, but always refreshing.In addition, Cooper is able to make connections with large issues in contemporary moral philosophy, relating the ancient controversies to their modern versions (John Rawls, Bernard Williams, Leo Strauss... (shrink)

Background: Research concerning relatives’ participation in the everyday care related to persons living in special care units for persons with dementia is limited. Research questions: To examine relatives’ participation in their near one’s everyday care, the level of burden experienced and important factors for participation, in this special context. Design: The study had a cross-sectional design, and data collection was carried out by means of a study-specific questionnaire. Participants and context: A total of 233 relatives from 23 different special (...) care units participated. Ethical consideration: The study was approved by the Norwegian Social Science Data Services. Results: A great majority of relatives reported that they visited weekly and were the resident’s spokesperson, but seldom really participated in decisions concerning their everyday care. Participation was seldom reported as a burden. Discussion: This study indicated that relatives were able to make a difference to their near one’s everyday life and ensure quality of care based on their biographical expertise, intimate knowledge about and emotional bond with the resident. Since knowing the resident is a prerequisite for providing individualised care that is in line with the resident’s preferences, information concerning these issues is of utmost importance. Conclusion: This study prompts reflection about what it is to be a spokesperson and whether everyday care is neglected in this role. Even though relatives were satisfied with the care provided, half of them perceived their participation as crucial for the resident’s well-being. This indicated that relatives were able to offer important extras due to their biographical expertise, intimate knowledge about and emotional bond with the resident. Good routines securing that written information about the residents’ life history and preferences is available and used should be implemented in practice. (shrink)

Drawing on insights from robotics, psychology, and human-computer interaction, developers of sex robots are currently aiming to create emotional bonds of attachment and even love between human users and their products. This is done by creating robots that can exhibit a range of facial expressions, that are made with human-like artificial skin, and that possess a rich vocabulary with many conversational possibilities. In light of the human tendency to anthropomorphize artefacts, we can expect that designers will (...) have some success and that this will lead to the attribution of mental states to the robot that the robot does not actually have, as well as the inducement of significant emotional responses in the user. This raises the question of whether it might be ethically problematic to try to develop robots that appear to love their users. We discuss three possible ethical concerns about this aim: first, that designers may be taking advantage of users’ emotional vulnerability; second, that users may be deceived; and, third, that relationships with robots may block off the possibility of more meaningful relationships with other humans. We argue that developers should attend to the ethical constraints suggested by these concerns in their development of increasingly humanoid sex robots. We discuss two different ways in which they might do so. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Trauma, Recognition, and the Place of LanguageJuliet Mitchell (bio)Definitions of trauma abound within the psychoanalytic discipline. My own definition is going to be simple. A trauma, whether physical or psychical, must create a breach in a protective covering of such severity that it cannot be coped with by the usual mechanisms by which we deal with pain or loss. The severity of the breach is such that (...) even if the incident is expected, the experience cannot be foretold. We cannot thus make use of anxiety as a preparatory signal. The death of a sick relative, the amputation of a diseased limb may be consciously known about in advance, but if they are to be described as traumatic then the foreknowledge was useless. In trauma we are untimely ripped.Whether it is as childhood seduction, infantile abuse, shell shock, or war violence, or as a preoccupation with the place of neoteny and the trials of human birth, trauma is continually posited as the hypothetical “origin” of psychic states. However, although “trauma” is crucial to psychoanalytic theory, trauma in itself is not really the focus of its analysis. Freud proposed a “biological bedrock” on which psychic states were formed, but this bedrock was not the object of psychoanalytic inquiry. I suggest that what emerges as a motif in the many retheorizings of psychoanalysis time and again, as another “bedrock,” is trauma. One might call it an “experiential bedrock.” As with biology, it is crucial—but as the area of another mode of inquiry. Psychoanalysis is equipped to contribute to the understanding of the reaction to trauma, not to the trauma itself.In a colloquial context we tend to look from the perspective of the observer and label a range of difficult or tragic occurrences “traumatic.” Instead, I want to define trauma from the perspective of the person who experiences it. This means both that the same event will not always be traumatic for different people, and that the experience of different events, if they are experienced as trauma, will be the same whatever the event and whoever the sufferer. It was essentially for this reason that Freud eventually disagreed with the rich findings of Otto Rank, who proposed the trauma of birth as the origin of mankind’s neurosis. Trauma is the great equalizer. What differentiates us, since we were all born? Furthermore, what appears to be the trauma from the observer’s perspective may, from the viewpoint of the psychic response of the recipient, only be the catalyst that brings to the surface an experience which, were it not for this later event, might not in itself have been traumatic (or vice versa). Even so extreme an experience as the Holocaust may not breach the defenses of a particular individual. The catalytic event in the present triggers an earlier occurrence which becomes traumatic only by virtue of its retrospectively endowed meaning.Probably all animate matter can be traumatized; it would seem likely that the response to the breach in the human defensive system takes place at a generalizable psychosocial level. Recognition and language are interactional social processes; without another person neither a psyche nor language is possible. Object relations analysts, notably D. W. Winnicott, whom Max Hernandez addresses in his paper in this issue, have devoted their work to aspects of the psyche, Lacanians to language. To me the fields are interdependent and gain from being looked at together, both in their practice and in the theories that can [End Page 121] be applied to them. When we have a physical trauma it is common for an immediate aftereffect to be some uncertainty about words; even the ability to spell correctly can temporarily disappear. There are undoubtedly physiological explanations for this. But I shall argue that there are psychological parallels. Every patient whom I would regard as having had some relevant form of trauma had a specific relationship to language, and it is this that concerns me. In addition, Max Hernandez describes the breach in the defenses caused by the anal rape of a patient when he was a young boy. But neither the patient’s symptom nor his complaint on coming to a therapist for treatment pertains to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Being the DifferenceJake BeeryThat day started just like many others. It was a cold, wet day in March spent anxiously answering and reviewing hundreds of USMLE STEP 2 practice questions for my exam just a week away. Except that Sunday would be something different. Looking for any excuse to take a break from my personal mental marathon, I picked up a call from my dad. He had just (...) spent the past six weeks wheeling my mom to near-daily appointments at the Mayo Clinic for treatment of her metastatic ocular melanoma. But now, with them back home, I had hoped for a short reprieve in the story of her cancer journey—for me, and for all of us. Instead, I listened to him explain how, less than 24 hours after coming home, my mom would be entering a hospice house in our hometown. Unable to control symptoms by themselves, my parents made the choice they felt would be best.Left with more questions than answers, a day later I found myself on a red-eye flight touching down on a snowy Minnesota runway. Inside waiting was the rest of my family, whose happiness to see me was unmistakably weighted down by similar hours of lost sleep. Together we shared as much time as we could with my mom, grateful she was able to meaningfully communicate when most other tasks proved unbearable. And that would be how she passed, surrounded by her closest family. Gone was my mom, my best friend, and the one person who I felt truly knew what it meant for me to be in medical school.The days that followed flowed in a melancholic blur. While I felt I knew so much about the time before hospice through talking with my mom and reading too many Kaplan-Meier curves, I was lost in the reality of losing a loved one for the first time. But as support poured in, time seemed to ease up. A close family friend who worked with grieving families as part of their profession told me, "In times like these, people will say things that seem strange. That's okay. Just try to listen to how much they care." And listen I did, savoring the minutes-long escape of listening to stories of a life well lived. Each time doing so, I felt the pull from the unknown to a place of unfortunate familiarity. Without much reference to how life feels after the loss of a parent, I cautiously stepped forward to face the rest of life's chores thrown at me.First came the rescheduling of STEP 2, reworking my study schedule, and yet more practice questions. And with it came my first struggles. While prior to flying home I could answer and review over 150 questions on a good day, I found myself unable to complete more than a single 40-question block. Every ophthalmology, oncology, and critical-care question transported me from the realm of abstract patients back to the beige waiting room of the hospice house. Gone was the joy of memorizing medical minutia. Originally, studying filled me with a sense of pride, furthering my dream of becoming a physician just like my mom had unintentionally inspired me to be. But now I didn't feel any of that. I despised every minute spent with my laptop open. But knowing the weight of board exams on a medical trainee's life, I pushed on. Outside of UWorld questions, I tried to make my world as normal as it once had been. I went on runs, got cappuccinos, and sat with my best friends. I did all the non-urgent things that still felt so important. And while I still [End Page 70] desperately missed my mom, multiple-choice questions gradually got easier, and the second chapter of my medical school career came to an uneventful close in a stuffy suburban testing center. And with it came my return to the wards.As a now 4th year medical student, I was set to begin a month-long rotation on the inpatient palliative care consult team at a busy, tertiary care medical center. As usual, the first day... (shrink)

When testing primates with cognitive tasks, it is usually not considered that subjects differ markedly in terms of emotional reactivity toward the experimenter, which potentially affects a subject’s cognitive performance. We addressed this issue in common marmosets (Callithrix jacchus), a monkey species in which males tend to show stronger emotional reactivity in testing situations, whereas females have been reported to outperform males in cognitive tasks. In a two-phase experiment, we first quantified the emotional reactivity of 14 (...) subjects toward four different experimenters performing a standardized behavioral action sequence and then assessed whether and how it affected the subjects’ participation and performance in a subsequent object permanence task. A test session was terminated if a subject refused to make a choice in four consecutive trials. Highly emotionally aroused individuals, particularly males, were less likely to participate in the cognitive task and completed fewer trials. However, whenever they did participate and were attentive to the task, their performance was not affected. Our results suggest that differences in emotional reactivity toward an experimenter have no major impact on cognitive performance if strict criteria are applied on when to abandon a test session and if performance is corrected for attention to the test procedure. Furthermore, they suggest that the reported sex differences in cognitive performance in marmosets may be owing to motivational and attentional factors, rather than a difference in cognitive ability per se. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 61.2 (2000) 241-261 [Access article in PDF] Should We All Be More English? Liang Qichao, Rudolf von Jhering, and Rights Stephen C. Angle [T]he Celestial Empire, with its bamboo, the rod for its adult children, and its hundreds of millions of inhabitants, will never attain, in the eyes of foreign nations, the respected position of little Switzerland. The natural disposition of the (...) Swiss in the matter of art and poetry is anything but ideal. It is sober and practical, like that of the Romans. But, in the sense in which I have thus far used the expression "ideal," in its relation to rights, it is just as applicable to the Swiss as to the Englishman. 1Rudolf von Jhering (1818-92) published Der Kampf ums Recht (The Struggle for Law) in 1872. He was already regarded as one of Germany's most important legal philosophers, and Der Kampf helped to ensure a world-wide reputation. His argument that people should be less like the "adult children" of China and more like the English found audiences everywhere, including China, where Der Kampf was translated between 1900 and 1901. Jhering's doctrines stimulated Liang Qichao (1873-1929), one of China's leading thinkers, to publish "Lun Quanli Sixiang (On Rights Consciousness)," in 1902 as part of his manifesto On the New People. Liang tells us that the "essential points" of his essay, which is among the earliest and most sustained treatments of the concept of rights to appear in Chinese, are mostly taken from Der Kampf. 2 We will see that there are indeed certain similarities that make Liang's "quanli" 3 (the standard Chinese translation of "rights") resonate with Jhering's notion of "Recht," and these similarities--chief among which is a kind of individual assertiveness--help to explain [End Page 241] Liang's interest in Jhering. My discussion of the two thinkers will offer at least the beginnings of an explanation of why German conceptions of law and rights were so attractive to Chinese intellectuals.As is often the case with cross-cultural comparisons, we will also see that these similarities mask some less obvious but deeply important differences. For Jhering the relation between following the procedures of the law and exercising one's Recht is crucial; for Liang, in contrast, quanli are deeply related to ethical concerns. This difference in turn colors their respective notions of assertiveness, which thus turn out not to resemble one another as closely as first appeared. When we see Recht and quanli as separate concepts emerging from separate discourse contexts, these differences will make sense.In "On Quanli Consciousness" Liang regularly quotes Jhering, often at some length. One important passage reads as follows: In ancient times, Lin Xiangru scolded the King of Qin saying: "Smash both my head and the jade disk!" 4 Now given the size of the state of Zhao, how could such love be expressed for a tiny thing like a jade disk? He was saying that Qin could smash the disk, kill him, invade his territory, endanger his state, and still he would not surrender. Ah! This was nothing other than "quanli"! Jhering has also said: "If an Englishman traveling to the European continent is one day asked to pay an irrational charge by the hotel's carriage driver, in every case he will resolutely scold [the driver]. If the driver won't heed his scolding, the Englishman will struggle for justice without tiring, always preferring to extend his stay; even if his traveling expenses were to increase as much as ten-fold, he would not cease. Unknowing people all laugh at this great fool, but none of them understand that this person's struggle over a few shillings is in fact a vital part of what allows the nation of England to stand tall by itself in the world. This abundance of quanli consciousness and sharpness of feelings of quanli are the great reasons behind the ability of the English to establish their state. Now let... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Being an Interpreter—Beyond LinguisticsPatricia CoronadoInterpreting refers specifically to the process of listening to and analyzing a message received in one language, then recreating the same message and delivering it in another language, all while preserving the meaning. An interpreter should always maintain a professional distance and be neutral to both sides of the conversation. Could I truly walk this line and perform by the book for each encounter?At (...) one of my medical encounters as a Spanish interpreter, I found myself in the midst of a heart-wrenching situation that involved grappling with life and death. No mother ever wants to hear that her baby has a condition that could lead to death either at birth or shortly thereafter. I had the profound experience of witnessing a woman in the final days of her pregnancy come to terms with a devastating reality.Just before I began my duties as an interpreter, I was informed that the baby had a congenital defect in which they would be born without parts of the brain, a condition called anencephaly. If babies with anencephaly are born alive, they usually live only a few hours or days. They have no forebrain or cerebrum (the main thinking structure of the brain), and the remaining brain tissue is often not covered by bone or skin. The baby will be blind, deaf, unconscious, and unable to feel pain.I learned that anencephaly is a serious birth defect, and the cause is not completely understood, but it's believed to be caused by a combination of genetic factors such as mutations or abnormalities, family history of neural tube defects, folic acid deficiency and exposure to certain toxins, medications, chemicals or substances. Hispanic women are more likely than women of other ethnicities to have a baby with anencephaly.During my first session, the medical team had many questions for the mom. For each question, the mother's responses were brief; either a yes or no answer, even when I was acting as a clarifier to make sure there were no misunderstandings. In my head, I thought:• Maybe she is in denial.• Maybe she has faith that a miracle will happen.• Maybe she is just afraid to ask questions.The registered nurse wanted to make sure that mom had what she would need to be comfortable for the day of her delivery. I remember questions like:• Will the baby be baptized?• Would you like to have a priest or a chaplain from the hospital or church?• Would mom or dad cut the umbilical cord?• Do you have a special blanket to shelter the baby? [End Page E10]The mother remained strong and resilient, keeping her emotions inside, at least from my perspective. The meeting was calm.There was a second session in which the medical team invited me to be part of a private meeting to go over key points about this case prior to the delivery. I remember being introduced to the neonatologist, this extraordinary doctor who played a vital role as part of the medical care team.I immediately did my own research about the functions of a neonatologist—a medical professional who manages the care of babies who are born prematurely or with an illness or congenital disability, such as prematurity or congenital malformations (birth defects), among others.I was present on the day of delivery. As I interpreted the emotional complexity of this event, a deep sense of empathy washed over me. I realized I could serve by giving my love through my words, my silence, and my presence. I interpreted for the mom when there were English-speaking care providers, focusing on interpreting for the patient's mom and spouse when needed. I was quiet in the times when a Spanish-speaking care provider spoke to the patient and family. Lastly, I was available—the only person outside of the family who was present during the actual delivery who was not a nurse or doctor—to help interpret and provide support whenever needed.Even with intensely emotional encounters such as this, my commitment to providing support and assistance remained unwavering. I stayed calm, silently praying for the mother and her baby. In an... (shrink)

The view that charity consists in an expansion of existing interpersonal relations is rather misleading. We need to see it as a radical transformation, of existing relations, even if this suspension is only temporary. In charity we see a person as someone who is no longer capable of reacting appropriately. Someone who is no longer capable of behaving as a „person‟ nevertheless continues to be a person. She does not lose her personal sanctity or dignity even if she has lost (...) a practical grasp on controlling and guiding the course of her life. Today we often tend to reduce charity to a compassionate form of helping, or aid-giving, such as when materials, doctors and psychologists are sent to regions that are torn apart by war or famine. It is much easier to understand charity when it can be measured against the reduction of physical and emotional distress. It is much more difficult to understand charity in cases where aid proves to be powerless, when there is no measurable return or change that is brought about. While ethics cannot teach us what to do once compassion, benevolence and forgiveness fail to make any difference, prayer can help us to move forward. Praying for others, more specifically, the long-suffering involved in prayer, is a particularly important form of charity. It has the power to lift us above our inability to do anything helpful. We pray at the very moment when we experience our powerlessness to help. (shrink)

Nostalgia is a fond longing for the past that has been shown to increase feelings of meaning, social connectedness, and self-continuity. Although nostalgia for personal memories provides intra- and interpersonal benefits, there may be negative consequences of group-based nostalgia on the perception and acceptance of others. The presented research examined national nostalgia, and its effects on group identification and political attitudes in the United States. In a sample of US voters, tendencies to feel personal and national nostalgia are associated (...) class='Hi'>with markedly different emotional and attitudinal profiles. Higher levels of national nostalgia predicted both positive attitudes toward President Trump and racial prejudice, though there was no evidence of such relationships with personal nostalgia. National nostalgia most strongly predicted positive attitudes toward president Trump among those high in racial prejudice. Furthermore, nostalgia's positive relationship with racial prejudice was partially mediated by perceived outgroup threat. Results from this study will help us better understand how the experience of national nostalgia can influence attitudes and motivate political behavior. (shrink)

In this paper, I consider pedagogical moments when the project of pedagogy is to _not understand_, as understanding would entail complicity with dehumanization. I explore the slipperiness of understanding and parse when understanding is helpful and when it reinscribes structures of dehumanization. I examine when it might be important in music education pedagogy to foster a refusal to understand, specifically in cases of extreme suffering that might occur in projects of dehumanization, atrocity, and genocide. Then, I explore the ethics (...) embedded in different forms of understanding and consider why not understanding is sometimes the ethical path and tease out the complexities of such refusals to understand. Subsequently, I focus on what music might contribute to this pedagogical approach. I then explore and critique empathy and the project of empathy in education. Ultimately, I consider the role of discomfort in music education to facilitate these kinds of refusals. I center the work of several scholars in this discussion: Sherene Razack (Dark threats and White knights: The Somalia Affair, peacekeeping, and the new imperialism University of Toronto Press Toronto, ON, 2004, Rev Educ Pedag Cult Stud 29 (4): 375-394, 2007), Megan Boler (Feeling power: Emotions and education. Routledge, New York, NY, 1999), Jennifer Geddes (Hypatia 18 (1):104-115, 2003), Charlotte Delbo (_Auschwitz and after_. Yale University Press, New Haven, 1995/2014), Hannah Arendt (Eichmann in Jerusalem: A report on the banality of evil. Penguin Books, New York, NY, 1963/2006), Marie Hållander (Ethics Educ 10(2): 175-185, 2015, Stud Philos Educ 38: 467–480, 2019), Barbara Applebaum (Being White, being good: White complicity, White moral responsibility, and social justice pedagogy. Lexington Books, New York 2010, White educators negotiating complicity: Roadblocks paved with good intentions. Lexington Books, New York, NY, 2022), and Liora Gubkin (Teach Theol Relig 18(2): 103–120, 2015). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Gordon Kaufman InterviewGordon Kaufman, emeritus professor of theology at Harvard Divinity School, has been a member of the Cobb-Abe Buddhist-Christian dialogue since its inception in 1987. As he mentions below, that experience has profoundly affected his work as a theologian and his conviction that theology is an activity of “the imaginative construction of a comprehensive and coherent picture of humanity in the world under God.” This perspective has characterized (...) his work from Systematic Theology (1968) through his more recent In Face of Mystery: A Constructive Theology (1993). Rita Gross and Terry Muck, coeditors of Buddhist-Christian Studies, explored with Gordon the important role Buddhism has played in his theological construction.Buddhist-Christian Studies: Does religious pluralism present Christian theologians with a unique task?Gordon Kaufman: Yes. Through most of Christian history theologians have argued that God revealed Godself to the Christian church in a way unlike any other religious group. Christians had the truth about human beings, their nature, their deepest problems, and solutions to those problems. Now, especially since World War II, a much greater consciousness of the significance of other religious traditions has grown among Christians. The unique challenge to Christian theologians is: What do we as theologians say to believers about what to do with this old tradition of uniqueness and infallible truth?Are Buddhist ‘theologians’ faced with a similar challenge in their communities?Yes.Are there specific features of either Christian theology or Buddhist theology that make either one of these religions more able or less able to step up to the challenge? What are the strengths and weaknesses of these two religions when it comes to the issues religious pluralism raises?I don’t want to speak for the Buddhist tradition in this respect. But I will say that both traditions have adapted to many different cultures around the world and there is a kind of flexibility in these traditions that gives hope. Christian monotheism, for example, is sometimes seen as contributing to exclusivism. But monotheism can be seen as including the notion of one source and ordering principle working in all of life, and that means we are all equal within the world and all related within the world to each other. And that leads to a central teaching of the Christian message: what God requires of us is that we be reconciled with those brothers and sisters from whom we are alienated. The simple Christian demand that we love not only our [End Page 43] neighbors but also our enemies now becomes a very powerful mandate if connected up with that one high monotheistic principle.Is there a certain commensurability between the way Buddhist and Christian theologians do their work?Let’s start by defining the terms. I don’t use the phrase ‘Buddhist theology’ but ‘Buddhist reflective thinking.’ This is less loaded than ‘theology,’ the study of God, but I have no objection if others want to call it Buddhist theology. Now, regarding ‘commensurability.’ I don’t regard myself as a good enough scholar of the history of religion to use that phrase. I’m a little suspicious of it because I am deeply impressed with the difference in lifestyles and commitments and value orientations that different symbols in various religious traditions promote. Thus I don’t want to assume there is a basic commensurability. The basic requirement for the Christian theologian is that we be open to all human beings. Then we’ll see what commensurability there is.So it’s not so much a cognitive category as an attitude or an approach—a common, human desire?Not necessarily a common human desire. I suspect there are strong motivations in all human beings, at least in many, not to be ‘open’ to all other persons. Many simply identify with the groups they are in and are not concerned much about others. I do say that there is a strong Christian imperative to enter into loving relationship with strangers, and whether that is true or not on the other side is for me to find out.How important is it to find out?Very important. It may have been that in earlier times we could continue to live in... (shrink)

The surah of el-Muddaththir is one of the first surahs of the Qurʾān according to the chronological order of the revelation. In this surah, between the verses 11-26, the story of the harsh opposition by polytheists of Mecca is told through the story of Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah. In this study, we tried to examine these verses in the framework of the social psychological models named “social identity theory”, “realistic conflict theory” and “stereotype psychology”, which are subgroups of the discipline of (...) social psychology. This study includes the interdisciplinary collaboration between theology and social science and supports that using social science as a tool to understand the Qurʾān will be insightful. This study consists of two parts. The first part includes the theoretical background information about the relevant concepts of social psychology. The second part explains the Qurʾānic verses in the light of these social psychology concepts. SUMMARY According to the social identity theory that was developed under the discipline of social psychology, every individual has two types of identities; one personal identity and one social identity. Personal identity refers to individual’s specific qualities such as his/her psychological characteristics or physical and mental capacities. On the other hand, an individual’s social identity takes form as a result of his/her involvement in groups with the same race, religion, or political views as himself/herself. In this context, when an individual expresses his/her social identity, that individual actually reflects his/her involvement in such groups. The phenomenon of which identity would govern on individual’s behavior highly depends on his/her mental or social state. The realistic conflict theory proposes competition may arise as a result of conflicting goals between different group members. This competition to reach similar goals would result in an intergroup hostility. The competition between groups would create to a biased positive view for the group that the individual is a part of and negative view about the other group. This would lead to creating stereotypes against the other group. In social psychology, stereotype is described as images in an individual’s mind, which are partially constructed by the individual’s social environment and partially constructed by the individual’s personality. These stereotypes determine our behavior and expectations against the outside world, so that they help us filter out the objective reality and shape the way that we perceive the events, other individuals or other groups. The stereotypes created against the other group are not created by only a couple crazy or neurotic members. In contrast, in the case of a fight between two groups, the stereotypes are created by the members of each groups, who are known to be the most reliable and influential individuals. In this study, the verses 11-25 of el-Muddaththir are studied using the framework explained above. The verses 11-17 mention the worldly goods that are given by Allah to Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah, without mentioning his name explicitly. However, Walīd continues to be greedy and obstinate toward the verses revealed by Allah. Therefore, the verses mention that he will be obliged to climb a slippery mountain, his life in the world will turn to a misery, and he will suffer in the afterlife. If the story is evaluated in the framework of the social psychology theories, it can be concluded that the verses actually refer to the group of disbelievers/polytheists for which Walīd was a prominent figure, as well as Walīd himself. Obviously, he was not alone and the verses indicated that the polytheists of Mecca formed an opposition group; therefore, they formed a different social identity. As a conclusion, there were one group of disbelievers and another of group of believers which were going to be the subject of the following verses of the Qurʾān. The social identity of the polytheists would also play a significant role in their daily decisions. The two circumstances that were believed to be the asbāb al-nuzūl (occasions of revelation) of the verses that were reviewed above supports this conclusion. The verses 18-26 discuss what Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah’s tribe would prefer him to say about the Qurʾān. These verses not only simply repeat his words “This is not but magic imitated (from others), this is not but the word of a human being", but also reflect the way he thinks with his strong negative attitude; i.e., the grimace on his face, the way he reacts with frowning and turning his back... In social psychology, the expressions of Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah can be described as “stereotypes.” These expressions are considered as one of the first stereotypes about the Qurʾān because it is discussed in some of the early verses according to the chronological order of revelation. Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah must have said these words under the influence of his social identity. In other words, these expressions must be a product of the intergroup conflict between the believers and the disbelievers against the believers’ claim of the Qurʾān being the words of Allah. The behavior of ʿUmar against the Qurʾān is also as important as the behavior of Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah. Both of them were deeply affected by the charm of the Qurʾān; however, ʿUmar chose to believe in the Qurʾān hile Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah ended up with denial. We believe that different behaviors of these two individuals are due the influence of their personal and social identities on their decisions. The choice of ʿUmar can be explained by his personal identity being dominant than his social identity. On the other hand, Walīd’s choice was a result of his social identity suppressing his personal identity, as well as stereotypes being more influential on him. In other words, ʿUmar made a choice with his personal identity rather than the disbeliever social identity. This would fit better with his personality because he was a clever, independent thinker that would help him make rational choices. The social group that he was a member of was not powerful enough to have an influence on him. In addition, he was not in a leadership position in Mecca. On the other hand, Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah was a poet and he was rich, as well as he was a prominent figure in Mecca. He was even one of the people that the polytheists of Mecca claimed that the Qurʾān could have been revealed to. Therefore, it was more likely for Walīd ibn al-Mughīrah to behave under the influence of his social identity because he had more dominant and strong ties to his social identity compared to ʿUmar. (shrink)

In this article I consider whether the legalization of sex-same marriage implies a right to incestuous marriage. I begin by suggesting that the liberal state get out of the 'marriage' business by leveling down to a universal civil union status. The question is then whether incestuous unions should be both legal and eligible for this status. I argue that the arguments compatible with public reason for prohibiting them outright, or even for excluding them from the permissible types of legally (...) registered partnerships, are quite weak. The objections to allowing such relations are those from (1) child abuse; (2) unfair burdening of society; and (3) the creation of bad lives. I argue that while rape and other forms of child abuse would be no more legal or tolerated than they are now, the concern about any form of weakening a society's legal and political resources to combat such abuses does indeed register on the justificatory scale, but does not prove that such first-degree incestuous sexual relations are inherently bad enough to warrant intervention in their own right. I then argue that the concern about unfairly burdening society with unhealthy persons is not as dangerously totalitarian as we might initially fear, but nor is it strong enough to justify an outright prohibition. Finally, I argue that a concern to dissuade persons from creating certain kinds of lives (children with extreme birth defects) is also not as dangerously totalitarian as we might initially fear, and in fact goes further towards explaining why we might have a legitimate interest in intervening. Nonetheless, I argue that the criminalization of such acts only make sense when they are indicators of other offenses, namely negligence or abuse, and it thus seems that the act of consanguineous reproduction is itself insufficient. (shrink)

Worldwide, children face adverse childhood experiences, being exposed to risks ranging from, exposure to political violence and forced migration over the deleterious effects of climate change, to unsafe cultural practices. As a consequence, children that seek refuge or migrate to European countries are extremely vulnerable, often struggling with integration in school, peer community, and their broader social circle. This multifaceted struggle can derive from external factors, such as the adaptation process and contact with other children, or internal (...) factors such as the fears and trauma that every child carries within them since they departed from their homeland. To bounce, grow, connect, and create in both adversity and opportunity, children need to build resilience, i.e., the capacity of an individual to maintain stable psychological functioning throughout the course of adversity. On the one hand, building resilience requires developing a set of individual skills, such as self-control, emotion regulation, self-esteem, and agency. On the other hand, building resilience involves developing social skills, connection, and close relationships. In this theoretical contribution, we review and map existing research to argue that activities based on the combination of music and movement has a strong potential to intensively build resilience. First, we connect the concepts of resilience and eudaimonia, based on the protective factors and key components of resilience. Then we discuss how music and movement, separately, may contribute to building resilience. Next, drawing on the basic mechanisms of musical sense-making, we argue that through combining music and movement, children engage in empowering musical sense-making processes that support building resilience, and in this way, support them to grow together and deeply experience eudaimonic values such as self-awareness, confidence and self-esteem, personal autonomy, connection, belonging, and bonding. Finally, we connect theory to practice. Based on the presented theoretical elaborations and on the authors’ experience as practitioners, we propose a set of guiding principles for the design of movement-based musical activities that foster the internal and external factors necessary to build resilience. (shrink)

The aim was to investigate the relationships between landscape-related personal and collective identity and well-being of residents living in a Swedish mountain county ( N = 850). It was shown that their most valued mountain activities were viewing and experiencing nature and landscape, outdoor recreation, rest and leisure, and socializing with friends/family. Qualitative analyses showed that the most valued aspects of the sites were landscape and outdoor restoration for personal favorite sites, and tourism and alpine for collective favorite (...) sites. According to quantitative analyses the stronger the attachment/closeness/belonging (emotional component of place identity) residents felt to favorite personal and collective sites the more well-being they perceived when visiting these places. Similarly, the more remembrance, thinking and mental travel (cognitive component of place identity) residents directed to these sites the more well-being they perceived in these places. In both types of sites well-being was more strongly predicted by emotional than cognitive component of place-identity. All this indicates the importance of person-place bonds in beneficial experiences of the outdoors, over and above simply being in outdoor environments. (shrink)

Many women today prepare for a big meeting by reading a stack of folders and applying lipstick. They order their male colleagues around, then wait for those same men to help them on with their coats. They have higher-status jobs than some of the men they date, yet they never call men socially or ask them out. What's going on? Why such seemingly contradictory behaviors? Have women completely failed feminism--or has feminism failed them? In The Lipstick Proviso , Karen (...) Lehrman--hailed by the New York Times as the "sharpest" of the new feminist thinkers--shows that women today are failing neither feminism nor themselves. Rather, they've entered a new stage of feminism, one in which the personal is not political, differences between the sexes need to be respected, and courtship, chivalry, and the nuclear family don't have to be jettisoned just because they existed before the sixties. Thirty years after the women's movement liberated women from narrowly defined roles, Lehrman argues, we are finally beginning to see which traditionally feminine behaviors are more deeply rooted in biology and which are more heavily influenced by culture. Lehrman asserts that the result--whatever it is--will not undermine feminism as long as women still retain equal rights, opportunities, and responsibilities. Dispensing with the outdated notion of sisterhood, Lehrman offers women a "lipstick proviso": women don't have to sacrifice their complex individuality in order to be equal. As the first book to move beyond a critique of orthodox feminism, The Lipstick Proviso sets a radically new course for the future of the women's movement. While there's still much political work to be done, Lehrman argues that women should now focus on the personal sides of their lives. Women can't rightly be called autonomous if they stay with abusive or even emotionally challenged lovers; say "yes" to sex when they really mean "no"; overeat or undereat to hide their sexuality. With wit and grace, Karen Lehrman offers in The Lipstick Proviso a way to complete the feminist revolution, and clearly establishes herself as the definitive voice of the next generation of feminism. (shrink)

There is a wide range of things we do out of emotion. For example, we smile with pleasure, our voices drop when we are sad, we recoil in shock or jump for joy, we apologize to others out of remorse. It is uncontroversial that some of these behaviors are actions. Clearly, apologizing is an action if anything is. Things seem less clear in the case of other emotional behaviors. Intuitively, the drop in a sad person’s voice is something (...) that happens to her, rather than something she actively performs. Perhaps more interestingly, even jumping for joy can seem a problematic case: although its execution involves the active performance of certain movements, it has been argued to contrast, e.g., with an act of apology, in that it is not performed in order to achieve some end, such as repairing a relationship. This can make this behavior seem considerably different from paradigm actions. Our central concern in this paper is with which emotional behaviors should be classed as actions and why... (shrink)

The manifold phenomena of love exhibited in diverse human societies during different periods of recorded history are rooted in biological features of human beings. The human procreative urge among women is natural to our species. Maternal love is rooted in mammalian nature. The ideal love of a mother for her child is a common transcultural paradigm of selflessness. This chapter first examines the biological roots of love and subsequently to the social constraints within which its various (...) forms are possible. It then discusses the multiple kinds of possible objects of love and the threads connecting them, and explains the framework of moral, social, and legal norms within which human love is realized. Love is a paradigm of a developing emotion. Being in love is the natural sequel to falling in love. It involves wanting to be with the person loved, a strong desire to please, to share experience, and to delight in shared experiences. (shrink)

An important philosophical issue in the study of addiction is what difference the fact that a person is addicted makes to attributions of autonomy (and responsibility) to their drug-oriented behavior. In spite of accumulating evidence suggesting the role of emotional dysregulation in understanding addiction, it has received surprisingly little attention in the debate about this issue. I claim that, as a result, an important aspect of the autonomy impairment of many addicted individuals has been largely overlooked. A widely shared (...) assumption in the philosophical literature is that for addiction to impair a person’s autonomy it has to make them (in some sense) take drugs against their will. So-called “willing addicts” are therefore usually seen as exempted from the autonomy impairment believed to characterize “unwilling addicts”, the latter being those who ‘truly want’ to stop using drugs but find their attempts repeatedly derailed by failures of self-control. In this article, I argue that the association between addiction and emotional dysregulation shows why this assumption is false. Emotional dysregulation is not only consistent with the possibility that many addicts take drugs ‘willingly’, it supports the hypothesis that they use drugs because they truly want to. The article proposes an explanation for why emotional dysregulation should nevertheless be seen as an aspect of their loss of control and an important reason why they have impaired autonomy. I end by exploring some implications of this account for addict’s decision-making capacity when they are prescribed the drugs to which they are addicted. -/- . (shrink)

Emotion is at the centre of our personal and social lives. To love or to hate, to be frightened or grateful is not just a matter of how we feel on the inside: our emotional responses direct our thoughts and actions, unleash our imaginations, and structure our relationships with others. Yet the role of emotion in human life has long been disputed. Is emotion reason?s friend or its foe? From where do the emotions really arise? Why do (...) we need them at all? In this accessible and carefully argued introduction, Carolyn Price focuses on some central questions about the nature and function of emotion. She explores the ways in which emotion contrasts with belief and considers how our emotional responses relate to our values, our likes and our needs. And she investigates some of the different ways in which emotional responses can be judged as fitting or misplaced, rational or irrational, authentic or inauthentic, sentimental or profound. Throughout, she develops a particular view of emotion as a complex and diverse phenomenon, which reflects both our common evolutionary past and our different cultural and personal histories. Engagingly written with lots of examples to illuminate our understanding, this book provides the ideal introduction to the topic for students and scholars and anyone interested in delving further into the intricate web of human emotion. (shrink)

My dissertation, “Love, Self-Constitution, and Practical Necessity,” offers an interpretation of love between people. Love is puzzling because it appears to involve essentially both rational and non-rational phenomena. We are accountable to those we love, so love seems to participate in forms of necessity, commitment, and expectation, which are associated with morality. But non-rational attitudes—forms of desire, attraction, and feeling—are also central to love. Consequently, love is not obviously based in rationality or (...) inclination. In contrast to views that attempt to fit love into existing models of practical reasoning, I argue that love participates in a unique form of practical necessity, different from both moral and psychological necessity, yet bearing resemblances to each. Distinctive to this type of practical necessity is a direct appeal to another particular person that cannot be delivered in third-personal terms—that is, a non-moral yet normative type of expectation on another person. This type of expectation is predominant in loving relationships, but can also make better sense of the experiences of humor and beauty, as well as attitudes like forgiveness, gratitude, and agent-regret. I treat Immanuel Kant’s discussion of the experience of beauty in the Critique of Judgment and Christine Korsgaard’s work on self-constitution as fruitful starting points for this account of love. I conclude that our loving relationships enable us to have distinctive personal selves, and provide support for this account of love by offering a complementary theory of grief. In Part One of the dissertation, I focus on two prominent approaches to love characteristic of the sentimentalist and rationalist traditions. I begin with the work of David Hume, which treats desire (understood as something like a simple impulse or craving) as the paradigmatic mental state, and emphasizes our personal and affective dimensions. Hume has the valuable insight that loving someone affects our sense of ourselves. But Hume’s view becomes unsatisfying when he claims that love is essentially enfeebling, implying that to love is to be passive toward and readily overcome by another person. While this indicates Hume’s awareness that love involves being open and receptive to another person, the problem is that love is also a demanding attitude. Hume lacks the conceptual resources to offer a nuanced view of the self, in which we can—with one attitude—be both demanding of and vulnerable to another person. Hume’s model of a desire-based deliberative process has recently been revived in Harry Frankfurt’s discussions on love and rationality. Frankfurt, however, goes beyond Hume’s picture of the self by introducing a notion of “identification,” which he offers to make sense of our apparent ability to commit ourselves decisively to certain projects or people. I argue that active powers like identification and commitment cannot be accommodated within any basically Humean moral psychology. Such abilities, and with them the possibility of love, depend on something closer to a Kantian conception of rational agency. I next focus on the work of Kant, who provides the substantial counterpart to Humean-inspired moral theories, but is not known for his insight into our emotional lives. In the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant divides love into “practical love”—what we experience when we are morally motivated to help someone—and “pathological love”—what we experience when we feel fond of something. But in reality, we experience love neither as a mere preference for another person, nor as something that generates the kind of demands that would be binding on any rational creature. David Velleman attempts to remedy the deficiency of Kant’s dichotomy. Velleman offers a Kantian theory in which he describes love and respect as two ends of a continuum of attitudes that it is morally appropriate to have toward people. Velleman’s view has the peculiar implication that everyone deserves the love of everyone else, and I argue that this is a fatal flaw. Like Kant and Velleman, Korsgaard characterizes personal love as involving the treatment of other people as Kantian ends-in-themselves to a heightened degree. Korsgaard, though, also contends that our individual identities depend upon our personal relationships, and I take this position seriously for the remainder of the dissertation. Ultimately, however, characterizations of loving relations as subsets of moral relations can account for the authority of the demands of love, but not its particularity. The major conclusion of Part One is that any attempt to understand love primarily on a model of practical reasoning with which we are already familiar is doomed to fail. Our experience of love calls for a theory of a unique type of practical necessity. In Part Two I take seriously the possibility that love is simultaneously inescapable (in something like the way morality is supposed to be), and yet ineluctably personal. In love, we experience an engagement with a person as essentially particular, rather than as an instance of a rational agent in general. To make sense of this direct attachment to an individual, I argue that love involves distinctive forms of expectation and disappointment. When those we love let us down, they hurt our feelings, which is not a response to a failed prediction, but nor is it a reaction to a moral insult or offense. According to Peter Strawson and Stephen Darwall, second-personal moral reactive attitudes (such as resentment) always have third-personal analogues (such as indignation). In contrast, I argue that the type of hurt feelings associated with love is a second-personal reactive attitude that does not have a third-personal corollary. I take this as evidence that the expectations involved in love are not objective in the way that the moral is objective. Nor, however, is love a matter of mere preference. On my interpretation, Kant introduces this different type of expectation in the Critique of Judgment. Whereas he characterizes moral judgments as universally communicable, judgments of beauty implicitly involve only second-personal address: I appeal to your direct experience with a particular object. This provides the conceptual space for an account of love according to which it involves a uniquely second-personal form of practical necessity. I contend that the second-personal addresses we make in love are appeals to strengthen the intimacy implicit in the loving relationship, and I identify three interrelated dimensions of that intimacy. First, those we love have the standing to interpret us in a constitutive manner. We fine-tune and make determinate the character of our concerns and interests in part by accepting the interpretations provided by those we love. In that way, the people we love have the normative power to constitute who we are. Second, we share a perspective with those we love in a way that is not reducible to or derivative of our independent perspectives. Loving someone centrally involves the activity of forming concerns together, and we do this in a mode best understood on the model of playing a spontaneous game or improvising music. Finally, being loved enables us to see ourselves as distinctive and special, because the concern those who love us have for us does not track the objective merit of our characteristics. These dimensions of the intimacy that characterizes a loving relationship reveal what it is that we appeal for in love, and how we are hurt when our appeals are rebuffed. In broad terms, this dissertation advocates the recognition of a non-moral yet normative type of expectation, which is predominant in loving relationships. Humor and beauty, too, make more sense when understood in terms of this non-moral yet normative type of expectation, as they involve appeals to others that are more than mere predictions of, but less than rational demands for, a certain kind of response. Introducing this alternative notion of expectation into the discourse of moral philosophy can shed light on other common attitudes that are clearly normative, but defy translation into objective, third-personal terms. Such attitudes include certain experiences of pride and shame, apology and forgiveness, the bestowing of mercy, gratitude, agent-regret, and perhaps a basic sense of trust we have in others. Ultimately, I situate love in respect to grief, which demonstrates my theory’s ability to make sense of related dimensions of our emotional lives. The people we love and grieve over give us a sense of who we are as distinctive, particular individuals, as the three interrelated dimensions of intimacy in loving relationships reveal. Consequently, grief is best understood as a type of practical disorientation—namely, a disorientation that involves the loss of the personal self. I present my account of grief against the type of account that would draw philosophical conclusions about the nature of love and grief from empirical psychological data alone. In particular, these data indicate that we recover quickly from the deaths of loved ones, and Dan Moller draws the philosophical conclusion that those we love fulfill certain roles in our lives and are replaceable. In contrast, I contend that while we should acknowledge the truth of the objective judgment, made in the third-person, that we will likely recover after the deaths of those we love, it does not follow that we must affirm such a claim from the internal perspective of one person who loves another. As a result, the case of love and grief supports a general claim concerning the proper work of moral philosophy, which is that the understanding of ourselves gained through empirical data is not a substitute for the normative conclusions that are revealed through first-personal reflections on our relationships. (shrink)

Background Advance healthcare decision-making presumes that a prior treatment preference expressed with sufficient mental capacity (“T1 preference”) should trump a contrary preference expressed after significant cognitive decline (“T2 preference”). This assumption is much debated in normative bioethics, but little is known about lay judgments in this domain. This study investigated participants’ judgments about which preference should be followed, and whether these judgments differed depending on a first-person (deciding for one’s future self) versus third-person (deciding for a friend or (...) stranger) perspective. -/- Methods A vignette-based survey was conducted (N = 1445 US Americans; gender-balanced sample), in a 3 (relationship: self, best friend, stranger) × 2 (T1 preference: treat, do not treat) × 2 (T2 contrary preference: ambiguous, unambiguous) design. -/- Results Participants were more likely to defer to the incapacitated T2 preference of a third-party, while being more likely to insist on following their own T1 capacitated preference. Further, participants were more likely to conclude that others with substantial cognitive decline were still their “true selves,” which correlated with increased deference to their T2 preferences. -/- Conclusions These findings add to the growing evidence that lay intuitions concerning the ethical entitlement to have decisions respected are not only a function of cognition, as would be expected under many traditional bioethical accounts, but also depend on the relationship of the decision to the decision-maker’s true self. (shrink)

The relations between reason, motivation and value present problems which, though ancient, remain intractable. If values are objective and rational how can they move us and if they are dependent on our contingent desires how can they be rational? E. J. Bond makes a bold attack on this dilemma. The widespread view among philosophers today is that judgements contain an irreducible element of personal commitment. To this Professor Bond proposes an account of values as objective and value judgements (...) as true or false, employing a distinction between grounding and motivating reasons to establish their connection with action. He defines and tests his position against a number of recent theories, providing in the process forceful criticism of Williams, Wiggins, Foot, Narveson and Nagel, among others. A distinctive contribution to the subject, it will stimulate interest and worthwhile debate among philosophers, while also serving as an introduction to this vital topic. (shrink)

This article aims to theoretically analyse so-called character friendship from the perspective of emotions. From this angle, our research enables us to distinguish different types of emotions, and we propose a conceptual model of the hierarchy of the emotions of character friendship and their influence on social behaviour. With this model in hand, the article discusses whether other-oriented emotions fully explain the emotional underpinnings of character friendship. We find other-oriented emotions to be ambiguous because they may or may (...) not be selfless. Thus we question whether these emotions can adequately explain the bonding content of character friendship. We conclude that there is a higher affective tier related to moral emotions and moral behaviour, which we have labelled the ‘bonding feeling’. This feeling is described with reference to its historical precedents (Rof Carballo’s ‘affective warp’), thus explaining its particularity. (shrink)

continent. 1.1 (2011): 27-32. “My”—what does this word designate? Not what belongs to me, but what I belong to,what contains my whole being, which is mine insofar as I belong to it. Søren Kierkegaard. The Seducer’s Diary . I can’t sleep till I devour you / And I’ll love you, if you let me… Marilyn Manson “Devour” The role of poetry in the relationalities between people has a long history—from epic poetry recounting tales of yore; to emotive lyric (...) poetry; to rude, irreverent limericks; to Hallmark cards which have ditties that allow one to cringe, and somehow fall in love at the same moment. Without going into a notion of aesthetics, or attempting to choose which form of poetry is superior, we might want to consider why the form of poetry itself has long been a part of relationality. And whilst doing so, we might always keep in mind that poetry—especially poetry that moves, transports us—is the form that Plato has been warning us about, particularly if we want to become good citizens.As Avital Ronell teaches us in Stupidity : the poet, irremediably split between exaltation and vulgarity, between the autonomy that produces the concept within intuition and the foolish earthly being, functions as a contaminant for philosophy—a being who at least since Plato, has been trying to read and master an eviction notice served by philosophy. The poet as genius continues to threaten and fascinate, menacing the philosopher with the beyond of knowledge. Philosophy cringes (287). And considering that the philosopher is the lover of wisdom, we might begin to ask ourselves why one lover is warning against another—if the philosopher is in love with wisdom, then is the poet perhaps his rival, his challenger, for that very love? For, one must also remember that Plato—through Socrates—mentions constantly that Homer is his favourite. Moreover, by adopting both his own voice, whilst mixing it with Socrates’, Plato is adopting the form of poetry that he warns most about—the warning almost serves more as a homage to poetry than anything else. Here, we might open the register that one of the main reasons that he ejects a particular kind of poet is on the grounds of effecting effeminacy on the populace—good poetry moves you, affects you, transports you, shifts you beyond reason, puts you “out of your mind.” However, Plato also teaches us that rhetoric in its highest form requires divine inspiration by way of the daemon, or the muse. This moment of divine intervention is one that seizes—perhaps even ceases—you; putting you “beyond yourself.” In other words, a good rhetorician must always already be open to the possibility of otherness—the same otherness that possibly resides in the feminine. One could also trace this back to the poet that he both loved, and feared, most—Homer. Perhaps the effect of effeminacy that Homer's poetry opened is precisely the source of its power: through listening to Homer, one's body, one’s habitus is opened to the possibility of the feminine. And here, one must remember that the source of all learning—and all teaching—also lies in mimesis, in repetition, in habit. Once the habitus is opened to the possibility of invasion, of intervention, of otherness, there is quite possibly no possibility of distinguishing whether the mimesis is that of reproduction, or if there is always already a productive aspect to it. And by extension, if learning cannot be controlled, the very notion of teaching itself is shifted from a master-student relationality to one where the master is potentially changed as well—the relationality between the master and the student is not only inter-changing, but one cannot even know who is teaching, or learning, at any point. All that can be said is that they are in a relationality; which means that one is ultimately unable to locate the locus of knowledge, of wisdom—the site of which Plato is attempting to convince us is the sole domain of the philosopher. And it is this that philosophy is cringing from. To compound matters, philosophy is striving for wisdom; which can only come from the Gods. In other words, this is a gift that has to be bestowed on them—and more than that, wisdom is always already exterior to one’s control and knowledge. At best, it is the role of one to recognise the gift, to answer the call as it were. Here, if we listen carefully, we can hear the echo of Alexander Graham Bell, and the telephone. And as we are attempting to respond to the call of wisdom—the call that both poetry and philosophy are listening out for—it might be helpful to recall the agreement between Alexander Graham Bell and his brother Melville. In the biography, Alexander Graham Bell and the Conquest of Solitude , Robert V. Bruce notes that Aleck and Melly made a “solemn compact that whichever of us should die first would endeavour to communication with the other if it were possible to do so” (63). Since Melville was the one who passed on first, this pact put the onus on Aleck to receive the call of his brother. If you take into consideration the fact that until Melville’s death, both brothers had been working on an early prototype of the telephone, the instrument of distant sound can be read as an attempt by Aleck to maintain the possibility of keeping in touch with Melly, of hearing the voice from beyond. However, this was a connection that was not premised on any knowing, reason, or rationality; it was rather, one that was based on hope, and born out of love. And here, if we eves-drop on a cross-line with The Telephone Book , we can pick up the voice of Avital Ronell once again and hear, “the connection to the other is a reading—not an interpretation, assimilation, or even a hermeneutic understanding, but a reading” (380). In other words, the telephone can be read as the openness to the possibility of responding to the other; one that might always remain unknown. Even in this day of caller-identification, we can never know for sure who the other person on the line is until we pick up: hence, the only decision we can make—the effects of which we remain blind to until it affects us—is to either pick up or not, to either respond or not. And it is not as if the decision to pick up comes without risks: each time we answer a call, we run the risk of it ruining our day. Even when we don’t know who the caller is, perhaps especially when we don’t know who the person on the other end of the line is—and here one only has to think of prank calls—we are leaving ourselves completely open to being affected by another. Thus, philosophy finds itself in the position of Vladimir and Estragon. Since they have no idea who Godot is, they can never know if or when he shows up—thus, if he (and we are taking his gender on the word of the boy, some boy—we don’t even know if it is the same boy—who comes round in the evening) has already come, they would not be in the position to know it. And even if someone comes to them and announces that “I am Godot,” the wait would not be over—without referentiality to the name, they would have to take on faith that that person is indeed Godot. Hence, all they can know is that they are waiting for Godot; and Godot is the name of that waiting itself. All philosophy can know is that it is waiting; and wisdom is the name of that waiting itself. Which brings us to Tina Turner’s eternal question, “what’s love got to do, got to do with it?” In order to begin to consider that, we have to first attempt to examine the notion of love itself. Perhaps we might begin to consider what the difficulty of the statement “I love you.” For, if love is a relationality between two persons—both of whom remain singular, and are attempting to respond to each other—this suggests that neither of them subsume the other under themselves. In other words, the other remains wholly other. If this is so, then the “you” in the statement always remains shrouded in mystery. And even if the “you” was replaced with the name of the person, the veiling remains: for, names refer both to the singularity that is the person, and also every other person bearing that name, at exactly the same time. To compound matters, the only time one has to utter a persons name is in their absence—thus, the correspondence of a name to that particular person is at best an affect of memory. And if we consider the notion of memory, we have to also open the register of forgetting—bringing along with it the problem that there is no object to forgetting. For instance, when one utters “I forgot,” all one is uttering is the fact that one has forgotten, and nothing more—the moment there is an object to the statement, one has strictly speaking remembered what one has forgotten. Moreover, we have no control over when forgetting happens to us. And since it is always already exterior to us, affects us, and has no necessary object, there is no reason to believe that every moment of memory might not bring with it a moment of forgetting. Hence, whenever we utter a name—even if we accept the correspondence between the utterance and the person in front of us—all we are doing is uttering the fact that we are naming. Thus, it is not so much that ‘a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ but more appropriately, ‘a rose is a rose is a rose’—the relationality between its name and the phenomenon of its sweet smell can only be established after that moment of naming, that instance of catachresis. So, whenever one utters “I love you,” not only is it a performative statement, it is the very naming of that love—all you are doing is establishing a relationality between you and the other. And since there is no necessary referent—one is naming that referentiality as one utters it—this suggests that it is always already a symbolic statement; without which the mystery of the other cannot me maintained. In other words, one cannot love the other without maintaining this symbolic distance—through a ritual; in this case the utterance “I love you.” This might be why Valentine’s Day seems to provoke such a massive reaction: the most common one from people (besides florists) being, Valentine’s Day is mere commercialism. Those among the nay-sayers who maintain a soft spot for Karl Marx would proceed to call it the commodification of relationships; those who prefer the Gods would claim that the sanctity of relationships has been profaned; the gender theorists would note how the fact that males buy the gifts only serves to highlight the unequal power-relation between the genders. Whichever side and variation of the arguments they choose boils down to this: the discomfort lies in the fact that they are confronted with the notion of relationships moving into a mediated sphere. The underlying logic is that love is between two persons only; it should not only remain between them, but more pertinently, be an unmediated experience between two persons. Which of course completely misses the point. For, if we reopen the register that relationships are the result of a negotiation between two persons, there must then be a space between them for this very negotiation to occur. Otherwise, all that is happening is, one person is subsuming the other within their own sphere of understanding; effectively effacing the other. If that were the case, there would no longer be any relationality; all negotiation is gone and the other person is a mere extension of the self—one is in a masturbatory relationality with one’s imaginary. Hence, any relationship must always already carry with it the unknown, and possibly always unknowable. The other person is an enigma, remains—must remain—enigmatic to you. This is the only way in which the proclamation “I love you” remains singular, remains a love that is about the person as a singular person—and not merely about the qualities of the person, what the person is. For, if the mystery of the other is unveiled, then the love for the other person is also a completely transparent love: one that you can know thoroughly, calculate; a check-list. And if they are knowable, this suggests that they can also be negated, and hence, the love can also go away. Only when the love for the other person is an enigmatic one, one that cannot be understood, can that love potentially be an event—and if it is an event, then strictly speaking, it cannot be known before it happens; at best, it can be glimpsed as it is happening, or perhaps even only realised retrospectively. At the point in which it happens, it is a love that comes from elsewhere: this strange phenomenon is best captured in the colloquial phrase, I was struck by love;” or even more so by, “I was blinded by love.” This is a blinding to not only the subject of the encounter—the self—but also of the very object of that encounter, the “you”—all that can be said is that there is an encounter. And it is for this reason Cupid is blind: not just because love is random (and can happen to anyone at any time), but more importantly because even after it happens, both the reason you are in love, and the person you are in love with, remain blind to you. Since there is an unknowable relationality with the other person, the only way you can approach it is through a ritual. This is the lesson that religions have taught us: since one is never able to phenomenally experience the God(s), one has no choice but to approach them symbolically. These rituals are strictly speaking meaningless—the actual content is interchangeable—as it is the form that is important. Rituals allow us momentary glimpses at secrets; and secrets are never about their content(s). Rather, secrets entail the recognition that they are secrets; the secret lies in their form as secret. This can be seen when we consider how group secrets work: since the entire group knows the secret, clearly the content of the secret is not as important as the fact that only members within the group are privy to this secret. Occasionally the actual content can be so trivial that even other people outside the group might know the information; they just do not realize its significance. For instance, if I used my date of birth as my bank-account password, merely knowing when I was born would not instantly give you the key to my life savings. In order for that to happen, you would have had to recognise the significance of the knowledge of my birthday. This means that you have to know that you know something. Since the God(s) are, strictly speaking, unknowable, this suggests that rituals put one in a position to potentially experience the God(s). The meaningless gestures on Valentine’s Day play precisely this ritualised role. It is not so much what you give the other person, but the fact that you give it to them. The gift in this sense is very much akin to an offering; the gift opens the possibility of an exchange. Gift-giving does not guarantee that you will like what is returned; there is always a reciprocation of the gift, but what is returned to you is never known in advance, until the moment it is received. This means that the worst thing that one can do is not give the gift: that would be akin to a cutting off of all possibilities, a complete closing of all communication with the other person. This at the same time also means that you cannot wait for the other person to give you something before you get them their gift: if that were the scenario, the reciprocal gift would be nothing more than a calculated return. The only manner in which both persons can give true gifts is to offer them independently of the other person, whilst keeping them in mind. In this way, the two gifts are always already both uncalculated (in the sense of not knowing what the return is) and also a reciprocation for the other (without knowing whether the other person actually has a gift in the first place). Naturally, this would seem like an irrational, even stupid, way of buying gifts. But it is precisely the stupidity involved that saves the relationship from being banal—more importantly, stupidity prevents it from entering the mere profane. This is not to say that an enigmatic love cannot end—of course it can. However, the difference lies in the fact that if the relationality is wholly transparent, it is subsumed under reason—completely predictable, within the self, and thus never open to the possibility of otherness, exteriority, musing. A love that is an event is one that is also open to the possibility of the divine, the sacred—always already closer to the possibility of wisdom. If we establish that both love and wisdom are exterior, to our knowledge, and the finitude to our selves, this suggests that both are names for the possibility of openness to otherness. In other words, and what choice do we have here but to use the words of the other, the philosopher—the lover of wisdom—is a name for one who is waiting, and nothing more. But that still leaves us with the question of this uncomfortable relationality between philosophy and poetry. But before we address that question, we have to take a momentary detour, and consider the whether it is possible to call one a poet. For, if we take the notion of a poet to be one who reaches the highest levels of rhetoric (beyond the lawyer, and the orator, who only aim to either please the crowds, or convince by way of sophistry), then we must also acknowledge that one can only become a poet at the moment of seizing, the point of inspiration, by the muses. Without this divine moment, all (s)he can do is practice her craft. As no one can control when the muses make their appearance, one could always be practising in vain—in some way, one is always already practising to be least in the way when the muse whispers into one’s ear; one is practising so as not to be vain. And since one cannot know when the muse will appear, there is no time frame to the practising—unlike the lawyer who speaks against a clock, poetry knows no time; the only time that matters is the time appropriate to poetry itself. Thus, all the poet (if one can use this term) is practising for the possibility of effacing her/him self—and waiting. Thus, in order for poetry to occur, in order to be seized, the poet—along with all her concerns—must cease. In other words, there is no poet; there is only the possibility of poetry. However, even as there is no time frame to this waiting, even as all we can say is that poetry is a name for waiting, the one who is practising is always already also in time. And since (s)he is in a symbolic relationality with the possibility of poetry, this suggests that the practising is her sacrifice, and time is precisely what she is sacrificing. Here, it might be helpful to turn to a strange source when it comes to poetry—Georges Bataille—and consider his teachings in the first volume of The Accursed Share where he reminds us that, the “essence [of sacrifice] is to consume profitlessly .” This is where each exchange is beyond rationality, beyond calculability, beyond reason itself, “unsubordinated to the ‘real’ order and occupied only with the present.” He continues: Sacrifice destroys that which it consecrates. It does not have to destroy as fire does; only the tie that connected the offering to the world of profitable activity is severed, but this separation has the sense of a definitive consumption; the consecrated offering cannot be restored to the real order.” (58) Since there is no need for a physical change in the object of sacrifice—“it does not have to destroy as fire does”—this suggests that the tie is severed symbolically. Hence, there is an aspect of trans-substantiation in this sacrifice: the form remains the same; in fact there is no perceivable change—this is the point at which all phenomenology fails—but there is always already a difference, an absolute separation from the “real order,” from logic, calculability, reason. The object of sacrifice, the victim [,] is a surplus taken from the mass of useful wealth…Once chosen, he is the accursed share , destined for violent consumption. But the curse tears him away from the order of things…” (59). And it is this tearing away from the order of things—the order of rationality—that “restores to the sacred world that which servile use has degraded, rendered profane” (55). For, only when it is no longer useful, when it is no longer abstracted—subjected, subsumed under—merely a use-value, can the object be an object as such, can a subject be a subject as such; be a singularity. Thus, it is never so much who or what is sacrificed, but the fact that there is a sacrifice. So even as (s)he is sacrificing her time to poetry, it is always already beyond her knowledge whether what (s)he is doing is actually preparing her for poetry or not—all (s)he can know is that she is sacrificing and nothing more. Hence, all (s)he can do is to open her self to the possibility of this relationality—all (s)he can do is be in love with poetry. At the moment the muse whispers into her ear, (s)he ceases to be, and becomes a medium for poetry—and since this possession is always already beyond our cognitive knowledge, this is also a moment of divine wisdom. In other words, there is no difference between poetry and wisdom—the moment of poetry is the moment of wisdom. And this might be the very reason for the philosopher’s aversion to poets. Not so much because they may corrupt the youth (this is after all the aim of all thinking, all philosophy), but precisely because in order to do so, the philosopher must wait for a moment of possession, for divine musing, for poetry. Hence, all thought, all thinking, all philosophy, is nothing but the waiting for the possibility of poetry itself. (shrink)

Negative emotions like anger, spite, contempt, and envy are widely seen as obstacles to a good life. They are like the weeds in a garden that need to be pulled up before they choke out the nice plants. This book argues that bad feelings aren't the weeds; they are the worms. Many people are squeamish about them and would prefer to pretend they aren't there, but the presence of worms mean the garden it thriving. I draw on insights from the (...) history of philosophy to show what we've gotten wrong about bad feelings and to see how we can live better with them. The first half of the book argues that there is nothing wrong with negative emotions and that their bad reputation is undeserved. Philosophers have long argued that our emotions are part of how we value things and bad feelings are not different. Negative emotions are expressions of self-love-not egoism or selfishness, but the felt attachment to ourselves and our lives. We feel negative emotions because our lives matter to us. The second half of the book takes a detailed look at individual bad feelings: anger, envy and jealousy, spite and Schadenfreude, and contempt. I show how all our negative emotions are valuable parts of our attachment to our lives. We don't have to battle negative emotions or "channel" them into something productive. Bad feelings aren't obstacles to a good life; they are part of what makes life meaningful. (shrink)