This chapter contains sections titled: Pleasure as Power Feminist Porn Discussion Notes.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Habituation and Character ChangeKathleen Poorman DoughertyThe standard view regarding character traits is that they are habituated, stable dispositions that develop over time. This position is put forth in its most familiar form in Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, Book II, where he outlines the development of character, arguing that one becomes virtuous or vicious through habituation of the corresponding sorts of actions. Thus, we become generous by performing generous actions, (...) courageous by performing courageous actions, rash by performing rash actions, and so on for all the virtues and vices. He puts it most directly at 1103b, saying, "To sum it up in a single account: a state [of character] results from [the repetition of] similar activities."1 Concomitant with this understanding of the development of character traits is the claim that once developed, character traits are stable and do not change rapidly or without the requisite rehabituation. Once a person has learned to be generous or courageous, the assumption is that she will, barring unusual circumstances, remain that way, for rehabituation is difficult and probably rare at best.For the most part, this standard view of the development and entrenchment of character reflects our common experience. It is easy to acknowledge the personal difficulty of making changes in our character, even with respect to fairly insignificant habits (ask any nail-biter or procrastinator!) let alone more central and entrenched character traits. Likewise, most realistic people will not expect others to change and will take a promise to change as well-intentioned at best, if not also somewhat simple-minded. Yet, other common intuitions seem to conflict with this traditional view: we find it easy to accept literary examples, and potentially even some real-life examples, of people whose characters have undergone radical change either for the better or the worse [End Page 294] quite quickly. So, even though the standard view of character traits as entrenched dispositions that develop over time seems to fit our common experiences, radical character change must be comprehensible and even possible, or these literary examples would not resonate with us. It's these competing intuitions about character change that I give further consideration here, in hope that they can be reconciled.More specifically, I consider how we ought to best understand cases of apparent moral transformation in light of this "standard view" that genuine moral character develops only through long-term habituation. First, I describe the traditional Aristotelian view in more detail, noting the important connections between habituation, practical wisdom and entrenchment. Then, I introduce two familiar literary cases of apparent moral transformation, namely Euripides' Hecuba and Dickens's Scrooge. Finally, I consider the skeptical response to these examples, namely that they do not represent genuine cases of rapid character change, but simply a misunderstanding or a misdescription of the process of character development. In doing so, I argue that it is perfectly plausible for such rapid character transformations to occur, because certain radical experiences may require a completely new interpretation of the world and necessitate a different form of engagement with it. Thus, I maintain that though it is generally true that character develops over time, it is neither conceptually nor practically impossible for character to change independently of habituation.IThe development of the moral virtues, Aristotle tells us, is like learning a craft in that neither comes to us naturally, but rather both develop through practice and repetition: "we learn a craft by producing the same product that we must produce when we have learned it, becoming builders, e.g., by building and harpists by playing the harp; so also, then, we become just by doing just actions, temperate by doing temperate actions, brave by doing brave actions" (1103a32–1103b). But just as learning to build or play the harp is a long and arduous process, with many stumbles along the way, so is the development of virtue. We will certainly not get actions right the first time, but will likely fail many times along the way. As Nancy Sherman points out, the kind of habituation Aristotle has in mind cannot be blind or rote habituation.2 Developing virtue will not be a matter of behaving exactly the same way each... (shrink)

From the standpoint of the school settings, sport participation constitutes a key strategy concerning the manifestation of positive behaviors that result from the development of personal and social responsibility. Based on the TPSR model, the goal of this study was to evaluate the effects of an intervention geared toward teaching life skills through sport to youngsters who had been committed. The participants were evaluated before and after the intervention. After the initial evaluation, they were randomly assigned to the experimental (...) and control groups. The experimental group took part in the community football program, while the control group attended physical education classes not based on the TPSR model. The experimental model consisted of 3 weekly sessions over the course of 6 weeks, which totaled 18 sessions. This investigation supplied empirical evidence concerning the potential of community sport programs in the teaching and development of life skills deemed necessary for an adequate reintegration of such at-risk youngsters. The model was shown to be valid both in stimulating changes of attitudes and in promoting the adherence to socially positive behaviors. The effectiveness of the model, as well as its unique approach, make its application attractive to both the youngsters and the professionals. This program facilitates the training of youngsters to act, in the sense of promoting both their autonomy and the acquisition of a system of ethics and moral values within a culture of responsibility for how decisions affect the individual and the community. Finally, this intervention generated empirical support in favor of the argument that sport constitutes a unique opportunity within the educational process to establish values, beliefs, attitudes, and practical habits pertaining relationships and cooperation that generate social responsibility in individuals. (shrink)

In philosophy, the criteria for personhood (PH) at a specific point in time (synchronic), and the necessary and sufficient conditions of personal identity (PI) over time (diachronic) are traditionally separated. Hence, the transition between both timescales of a person's life remains largely unclear. Personal habits reflect a decision-making (DM) process that binds together synchronic and diachronic timescales. Despite the fact that the actualization of habits takes place synchronically, they presuppose, for the possibility of their generation, (...) time in a diachronic sense. The acquisition of habits therefore rests upon PI over time; that is, the temporal extension of personal decisions is the necessary condition for the possible development of habits. Conceptually, habits can thus be seen as a bridge between synchronic and diachronic timescales of a person's life. In order to investigate the empirical mediation of this temporal linkage, we draw upon the neuronal mechanisms underlying DM; in particular on the distinction between internally and externally guided DM. Externally guided DM relies on external criteria at a specific point in time (synchronic); on a neural level, this has been associated with lateral frontal and parietal brain regions. In contrast, internally guided DM is based on the person's own preferences that involve a more longitudinal and thus diachronic timescale, which has been associated with the brain's intrinsic activity. Habits can be considered to reflect a balance between internally and externally guided DM, which implicates a particular temporal balance between diachronic and synchronic elements, thus linking two different timescales. Based on such evidence, we suggest a habit-based neurophilosophical approach of PH and PI by focusing on the empirically-based linkage between the synchronic and diachronic elements of habits. By doing so, we propose to link together what philosophically has been described and analyzed separately as PH and PI. (shrink)

Over the last decade, attention has crawled from out of the shadows into the philosophical limelight with several important books and widely read articles. Carolyn Dicey Jennings has been a key player in the attention revolution, actively publishing in the area and promoting awareness. This book was much anticipated by insiders and does not disappoint. It is in no way redundant with respect to other recent monographs, covering both a different range of material and developing novel positions throughout. The (...) book might have been called The Attending Self, since Jennings defines attention as mental prioritization controlled by the self. This invocation of the self is among her central innovations, and may prove to be the main source of controversy. I will highlight points of contention here, but want to emphasize at the outset that the book is essential reading for anyone interested in attention. Jennings also contributes to a range of other debates, which will help a broader audience appreciate the importance this topic.After a brief introduction, Jennings provides “a philosophical landscape” of attention (chap. 2), tracing the concept through history. This is an invaluable achievement that will be welcomed by both newcomers and veterans. Jennings exhibits enormous breadth, covering areas that contemporary philosophers of mind tend to neglect: medieval philosophy, Buddhist thought, and phenomenology, to name a few. We also get perspectives on attention from core figures in the Western canon, such as Descartes, Locke, and Kant, as well as thinkers who gave the topic a more political inflection: Mary Wollstonecraft and W. E. B. DuBois. Jennings surveys contemporary literature as well, locating recent work in these older lineages. Some authors get more treatment later in the book (e.g., William James and Wayne Wu). Overall, Jennings provides the best overview of this history I have seen. She proves that attention is not a new topic, but one with deep roots and one that can inform current debates; Jennings draws on these roots throughout. I would love to see a companion piece surveying scientific theories, including “gain control” and “biased competition,” which get little airtime in the book. Some recent philosophical theories are under-explored as well, including Chris Mole’s concept of cognitive unison (Jennings discusses other aspects of his view), Carlos Montemayor and Harry Haladjian’s exploration of attention’s diversity (we get a touch of this), and my own proposal that attention is a gateway to working memory (not mentioned here). That said, no extant survey is more complete.Chapter 3 begins with the empirical claim that attention is regulated by slow brainwaves, and then takes up two issues. The first is mental causation. Endorsing moderate emergentism, Jennings argues that slow brain waves are causally efficacious even though they are not reducible to lower-level processes. (The metaphysics and neuroscience are presented accessibly, aided by three appendixes.) Second, Jennings argues that these slow brain waves indicate that attention is controlled by the self. As someone who was never moved by the mental causation problem—I don’t think overdetermination threatens efficacy—I would have welcomed more development of this second issue. For one thing, in linking attention to subjective control, Jennings eschews the idea that there can be purely “bottom-up” attention driven by stimulus features alone. This goes against the orthodoxy in attention science, and makes it hard for her to accommodate phenomena such as “pop-out,” or the commonsense idea that attention can be “captured” by a sudden flash or loud sound. For another thing, I wanted to hear more on why Jennings relates slow brain waves to the self. Does this include the slow waves that occur during deep sleep? Is there even such a thing as the self? Is there one self or many? How do slow brain waves reflect our interests, projects, values, self-conceptions, autobiographical narratives, or social identities? Does the social self invoked by Wollstonecraft and DuBois gain a foothold here? The whole chapter campaigns against metaphysical reductionism, but arrives at a perspective on the self that will strike some readers as highly reductive.In the fourth chapter, Jennings sheds further light on her conjecture that attention involves the self by advancing the thesis that attention endows sensory information with meaning. On the face of it, this may sound implausible. Object recognition, reading, and many other meaning-involving processes can take place outside of attention and outside of consciousness. But Jennings has a richer notion of “meaning” in mind. She develops the idea of “subject unity,” which is imposition of structure on perception that reflects the interests of the perceiving subject. This, she claims, is what brings perception into the space of reasons. Along the way, she has interesting observations about binding, feature integration, and demonstrative reference. The material is highly original, and Jennings’s postulation of interest-based perceptual organization is compelling. At the same time, one might wonder whether interests are really relegated to the ambit of attentional control. Consider the cocktail party effect, wherein one’s own name captures attention. This implies a preattentive filter that reflects our interests. Emotionally charged words, facial expressions, and dangerous objects also work this way, and social biases can operate preattentively as well. If these reflect our interests, then meaning may arise outside attention.Jennings’s fifth chapter explores the relationship between attention and consciousness. Some authors have argued that attention is necessary and sufficient for consciousness. Jennings focuses primarily on the necessity claim. She does not systematically review the empirical literature here, but she addresses some of the key findings, and effectively rebuts studies that allege to find consciousness outside attention. She does not rest her case there, however. Instead, she identifies a new class of examples that purport to establish the possibility of consciousness without attention. Her central example she calls “conscious entrainment,” which is what we experience when engaged in habitual or skilled activities. Other possible examples touched on in the chapter include hypervigilance in individuals with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), passive movie watching, dreaming, and “attentional neglect.” These states all involve intense focus, Jennings admits, but not attention. To some readers this may sound contradictory. Isn’t focus a kind of attention? Don’t these states of absorption involve stimulus selection and enhancement of relevant features, suppression of distractors, and other hallmarks of attention? Jennings says none of this is tantamount to attention. Recall that she thinks attention is controlled by the self. In these cases, we are invited to imagine that the self takes a passive role: control is either ceded to the world (movie watching) or to previously mastered routines (skills and habits). Thus, Jennings’s claim that there is no attention in these cases hangs on her contentious thesis that attention requires a controlling self. One might also push back by arguing that, in some of Jennings’s allegedly selfless examples, the self remains involved. Skilled activities and hypervigilance, for example, can reflect personal interests.Skills and hypervigilance get more airtime in chapter 6. There, Jennings turns to questions of responsibility—a neglected topic in attention research. The chapter begins with a manslaughter trial in which the teenage plaintiff was given a light sentence because the judge evidently believed that the teen’s ADHD compromised his ability to control his actions. The example may be a bit triggering for people who have a personal relationship with this diagnosis, but, putting that aside, Jennings uses it to introduce the important concept of attention-based control. With reduced control, Jennings argues, comes reduced responsibility. I am inclined to see ADHD as involving dysregulation of attention (difficulty disengaging and dividing attention, for example) rather than diminished attention, but that can still be characterized as an issue with control of attention; therefore ADHD still illustrates Jennings’s point that there is a link between responsibility and control of attention. This, it turns out, is only half of her story. Having argued for this link, one might expect Jennings to follow Wayne Wu, who contends that attention is necessary for action, and hence for responsibility. She does not. Instead, she says argues that responsibility can also arise in cases of “strategic automaticity.” This brings us back to skills. When skills are deployed, action is governed by learned pairings between stimuli and responses. The choice to exercise a skill requires attention, so attention is needed for being a responsible agent, but once a skill kicks in, attention is no longer required, and one can be held responsible for actions performed skillfully—thus attention is not required for responsibility tout court. Jennings addresses an opposing view (defended by Wu, Ellen Fridland, and Barbara Montero), according to which skills involve “automatic attention” rather than no attention. Jennings worries that this move will collapse the distinction between attention and other kinds of selection and filtering that occur throughout the nervous system, including the retina. She says that the attentional interpretation of skilled action is at odds with the lack of top-down reweighing of sensory inputs, regulated by lateral frontal cortex. These objections to automatic attention warrant response. My own view is that attention involves broadcasting to working memory, so retinal filtering is ruled out. Jennings’s insistence on top-down reweighing will not move those who believe attention can be purely bottom-up. For all that, I side with Jennings in wanting to allow for responsibility without attentional control. I think we can be responsible for implicit biases, for example. I also think attentional control is insufficient for responsibility, as when we act under duress.Jennings offers fresh perspective on the nature of attention, and its role in meaningful perception, consciousness, action, and responsibility. Each chapter can be read separately, but they hang together well, and each reflects her thesis that attention is essentially linked to the self. Though I am skeptical of that strong claim, we would do well to follow Jennings in regarding attention as interest-laden interface between mind and world. I look forward to a sequel in which attention is related to richer conceptions of identity, and where the political consequences of this link are actively explored. Meanwhile, one can hardly fault Jennings for covering too little. She tackles a remarkable range of topics, from metaphysics to ethics. Her arguments throughout demand response, repay careful study, and propel the field forward. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS 697 Excellent as Sullivan's book is, it has raised a host of questions which, though it cannot be fairly expected to discuss them at length, much less to resolve, are at the heart of ongoing reflections about the possibility of salvation outside the visible Church. Such questions concern the concrete ways in which God works in the lives of peoples of different religions, the unique and normative (...) role of Christ in the history of salvation, the function of non-Christian religions as mediations of salvation, and so on. And the debate on these issues rages on among Catholic as well as non-Catholic theologians! One wishes that Sullivan had given a fuller account of this debate which is central in interreligious dialogue. More directly connected with the method and approach of the book itself are the questions of dogmatic development and the hermeneutics of doctrines. To put it more concretely, was Leonard Feeney, with whose ironic fate the book opens and ends, simply expressing the ancient doctrine of the deposit of the faith concerning salvation in the Church in a negative and imperfect fashion? Or was he (and more importantly, popes and official teachers of the faith) wrong in affirming the exclusiveness implicit in the formula extra ecclesiam nulla salus (which apparently they did)? H the latter, then the issues of infallible magisterium and dogmatic ' development ' raise their ugly heads, and one has to come to terms with them. The Catholic University of America Washington, D.C. PETER c. PHAN Character. By JOEL KUPPERMAN. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991. Pp. vi + 193. The two theses of J. Kupperman's Character are "that character is of central importance to ethics and that ethical philosophy will have to be restructured once this is understood " (p. 3). The argument has three stages: the first three chapters explicate the notion of character and its relationship to the notions of the self and of responsibility; the next two consider the dominant, rival theories in contemporary ethics; the last two address the topics of value and the place of character in ethics. In two appendices, Kupperman applies the substantive conclusions of the work to the issues of moral psychology and the education of character. A brief review cannot communicate the many nuances of argument and the precise and lucid style that distinguish the book. While certain parts of the argument seem problematic, or at least in 698 BOOK REVIEWS need of further development, the work deserves the attention of professional ethicists and of inquisitive non-professionals. The opening chapter offers the following definition of character: "X's character is X's normal pattern of thought and action, especially with respect to concerns and commitments in matter affecting the hap· piness of others or of X, and most especially in relation to moral choices" (p. 17). In the second chapter, Kupperman considers three views: Enduring Self (ES), No Self (NS), and Constructed Self (CS). The ES appears to be seH-evidently true. But what exactly is the self and where is it to he found? It is difficult to fix the abiding " I " amid or behind the flux of our self-experience. On the other hand, even Hume's skepticism concerning the self presumes that " we know where to look " for it. The " I " is simultaneously obvious and elusive, stable and unstable (p. 40). Thus, both the ES and the NS are problematic, The third option is the Constructive Self, Kupperman holds that, as children, we begin with a "protoseH." The full-fledged self is often the result of orientations, habits, and traits of character developed before one has even begun deliberating about the kind of character one would like to have. Like the self, character is constructed mostly through unreflective choices. But this raises questions about responsibility, which is the focus of the third chapter. If we have not willed to be the sorts of persons we now are, how can we be held responsible for who we are or what we do? Actions do not " flow from character like water from a pipe " (p, 59). Over long periods of time and through a reorganization of large portions of our life, we can... (shrink)

The greatest intensity of “live” life is captured from as close as possible in order to be borne as far as possible away. Jacques Derrida. Echographies of Television . Rainer Ganahl has made a study of studying. As part of his extensive autobiographical art practice, he documents and presents many of the ambitious educational activities he undertakes. For example, he has been videotaping hundreds of hours of solitary study that show him struggling to learn Chinese, Arabic and a host of (...) other languages. The stacked boxes of tapes are then presented like minimalist monoliths, dense archives of effort. About fifteen years ago, Ganahl began photographing the lectures that he attends. At the time, he hadn’t seen anyone else doing it, so besides his spare selection of images of the speaker and the audience, much of the time the lectures would just pass into memory, undocumented, or recorded in writing alone. Since then, he has felt the transition to digital cause a significant shift in his process. At the same time, he has seen the habit become ubiquitous as others photograph, record, and videotape the lectures all around him. In keeping with the theme of this inaugural issue of continent. , can we propose each small grouping of photographs that result an isthmus stretching between two disparate bodies of mind? The first being the body of the lecture as spelled out in the title of each work – the experience of the event in all its constituent parts. The second is the body of the recipient, the listener, in this case an artist, who plays a minimal role just beyond the prescripted behavior of sitting and listening. He uses a gesture of documentation to draw a line between himself and the event, creating an artwork. Františka + Tim Gilman: As we mentioned before, the theme of the magazine for this issue is "isthmus." It seems like a very good way into your work, and it leads us to ask what connection you see between your photographs of the lecture and the lecture itself? Rainer Ganahl: The relationship is of course a concrete, pictorial one, or if you want a mimetic one but also an abstract one because the photographs carry the title of the lecture, the names of the lecturers, the site, the institution and the time of the lecture. Photos are fixed moments of time and can reproduce images displayed and reproduce visuals presented at a moment but they don’t come with time based recordings that video or sound takes are offering. What remains of a lecture is usually just the memory, some notes and all the announcements of it. In my case I end up with a visual product I declare as my artwork. It might not differ from any snapshot taken by any other student or member of the audience but I do this in a semi-systematic way with certain rules and procedures I have set up. While I am at a lecture I am mainly focusing on the lecture itself. Last night I went to one of Slavoj Žižek which demanded quite some concentration. I even was asking him a question at the end. I took photos as well but still didn’t lose track of the lecture. I didn’t walk around, I was not preoccupied by where I was sitting and what light I was having like some of the other photographing and filming people in the room who came and left, moved around and tried to capture him from this and that angle, from close and far. I just sat there and concentrated on the lecture and yet managed to take about 30 or so images of him, the public around me and of the film clips he presented. Once the lecture is over the story changes: it all becomes a question of the images, their selection, their visual qualities, their labeling and archiving. The function of the images also change: not only do they stand for an intellectual event in a row of lectures that become part of my intellectual history within many possible such histories but they also have to function as art, something not everybody else with images of lecturers demands of their images. This is my specific claim as an artist to impose them as artworks. And as with all artistic propositions the offer can be accepted or rejected. I basically spend my life trying to do exactly that: making what I declare as art, offering something to anybody interested in it as my art, an offer that is not and will never be accepted as such by all people. F+T: What are your criteria for selection, i.e. how do you choose which lectures to photograph, by lecturer, by topic, or do you photograph any and every lecture you can? RG: As everything in my life, I go by my interest which is the result of many factors. If I am aware of a lecturer, read his books or appreciate his works my interest of attending his much higher than if I am not aware of it. I usually don’t go to lecturers simply based on their subjects—something that can happen of course, if the subject, the title of the lecture is promising or at the heart of my interest. Sometimes I also wait for years to get a change to photograph certain people but I do that in a very low-level “keep your ears up” mentality and not in a systematic scanning of all channels and possibilities. I do not go into philosophy departments and photograph everybody teaching there. I go with the flow—and unfortunately a great deal of great talks I also miss because I hear too late of them. Often, I also stumble into them by traveling, by getting emails from friends and by simply being in the right spot at the right time. Somehow you could look at my lecture par cours as some kind of loose intellectual flâneurism . If you know of interesting lectures and events, please, let me know. F+T: Is your selection of images more of a production or post-production method? That is, do you take a lot of photos and select only a few images from each lecture, or do you take them very selectively? Do you have a particular methodology for the selection of images? RG: This all changed a bit with the arrival of digital photography. In the beginning I had to pay a lot of money for film developing. Hence, I was taking either one role - 36 images - or half a role - 13 images - depending on who talked and whether they projected images. With the unlimited capacity of digital imaging I easily end up between 30 and 150 images of one event still depending of whether images are presented or not. In the first years of that project when I wasn’t fully aware yet of what I was doing, I printed at least 2 images of any lecture and sometimes three or even four, a choice that was also constrained by costs. But again, since I have a web site and since images can easily be selected and presented on my web site without generating remarkable costs I have now more and more pain to reduce them to less than ten or eight images for an event. Now, before I have them printed which really is expensive, I can present them already as artwork on my web site without any immediate costs. Thus the economic factor is at the end of the chain which enables me to be more ‘generous’ and include more images. Over the last years I have been mostly selecting at least four photographs for a lecture unit but recently also as many as ten. But so far only one set above four images has been actually printed and sold. What might sound even more shocking is the likely fact that if a curator or a collector demands me to reduce the number of images due to costs, I might compromise at this current stage if the images have not been yet printed or published outside my own web site. This means that to a certain degree any selection that has only seen publication on my web site and not yet been produced runs the risk to change in numbers of images included. Needless to say, I am the last one that finally makes a decision and I do honor all given earlier decision if those were final. F+T: How do you feel the act of photographing the lecture affects your reception of the contents of the lecture? And your recollection afterwards, do you remember the lecture more having photographed it, or just having sat and listened? RG: As mentioned above, I get very little distraction from photographing since I can multitask well and do not obsess about the quality of the image: I photograph from where I am and listen with my ears and not my eyes. I am not sure whether the images serve as a mnemonic devise to the content of the lecture if there are no images involved but they at least remind me that the lecture existed, the title of the lecture and the name of the people and institutions involved. The titles of the hundreds of lectures I took during the past 15 years can also be read as an essay of theoretical life in that period. This will be come more and more visible as time passes by. These images age much better than I do. F+T: You mentioned at the outset of our discussions that you started this practice some time ago and have seen the practice of photographing lecturers become more commonplace. Why do you think that this shift has taken place? RG: The answer is very simple. Photographing is now free of any charge and hence omnipresent. You buy a phone or any other personal digital assistant and it has a camera integrated in it whether you want it or not. There is no need to develop images and there is no hassle to keep images, to distribute images, to organize images and save them. It is all virtual, not creating any costs and doesn’t require any efforts. You don’t spend twenty dollars for photo-developing anymore, you don’t need to walk anymore to your pharmacy or your photo shop to drop off and return to pick up and pay. You don’t need to go to the post office to send somebody a picture. You have a program like Photoshop already built into your camera. Photographing is now a thing for everybody—with functioning cameras made for two year olds. It is technically now nearly impossible to make bad images. The image quality is virtually guaranteed by cheap, high performing, mini-computers packed into miniscule cameras. With all these technological changes, we are undergoing now a cultural paradigm shift that includes permanent recording (not only still image taking) of everything. I wonder even whether babies are just born to be photographed—at least a process where the first photograph is right there. What is interesting now, is how the law is trying to catch up. I am experiencing and expecting more restrictions on photographing and recording—something already in place in many museums and in certain galleries—as the recording devices become more and more invisible and undetectable. It is an interesting cat and mouse play and will end up with some of us that are photographing the world around us in court. The world has become very transparent and everybody is contributing to it with social networking technologies—like twitter and Facebook—that are designed to monitor and communicate every step we make in our lives. F+T: Why did you start the practice? As a way to remember, or to capture the experience of the lecture and the environment there? RG: A couple of years earlier I started to photograph my own reading seminars as part of my art work with results that surprised me positively. I really liked these images of students and people discussing heavy non-fiction with me. The reading seminars justified this kind of pictorialism. Then in 1995 I had the chance to attend an entire seminar by Edward Said entitled “The Representation of Intellectuals at Columbia University,” which really gave me the idea to start this series. Why not also photograph these lectures I visit all the time since this really is a way of representing intellectuals? F+T: The constellation of images and the title seem like a kind of portrait, do you agree? If so, is it a portrait of the speaker, of yourself, or of the event? RG: Well, to follow up on the previous question the lectures are more than just portraits of lecturers since I include not only the speakers but also the audience, an audience that is not named or specifically highlighted as is the speaker. So if we stick with the metaphor of the portrait we would have to extend it also to the environment, the class room, the lecture hall, the arrangements of seats or benches, tables, lecture stands and other stuff typically seen on my images. Often the walls are decorated or even tagged with graffiti or posters and other stuff. There is a big difference between a small seminar room at the English Department of Columbia University, full with books and cabinets and a lecture room at a Paris or Frankfurt university that accommodates 50 to 150 people. We should, maybe, also distinguish between lectures that are one time events—mostly open to the public, free of charge or paid—and events that are weekly, closed to the public and held mostly in universities that can cost fortunes or be paid by the State as it is still predominantly the case in continental Europe. All this, of course, is not necessarily announced in the title of the lecture and is subject to information that isn’t visible on the images. To a certain degree we see also portraits of a general privilege when it comes to the public of certain institutions that are highly selective and extremely costly without forgetting that most of the lectures are dealing with theory, art, philosophy and other highbrow subjects. In general, I would say we see very little if we don’t know already what’s going on, who the lecturer, the institutions, the context are in which we subsequently can zoom into variants like sexual, racial, or age-related make-up without ignoring clothing fashions, hair styling, body mannerisms, gadgets and stuff. F+T: Do you see a relation between this body of work and your other work, for example your language studies? RG: Everything I do is “unfortunately” related. I say unfortunately because this makes my work not so easy to grasp. The relationship to the language studies is relatively clear since both are originally grounded in the domain of education and knowledge production. Nearly all my work comes across that nexus where knowledge and power are addressed. I was at one point wondering what the relationship was to some of my earlier indexical work where I was happy alone with footnotes from books painted on the walls: I came to understand that both are just different manifestations of knowledge and information. F+T: Do you foresee continuing the series indefinitely, or is there an end to it? RG: I think that I will continue this series indefinitely or to be more precise, as long as I go listen to lectures and want to learn something which brings me to your previous question: What do the reading seminars, language studies, historical research and lecture hopping have in common: I learn something. Further Reading Rainer Ganahl’s website William Kaizen. “ Vulgar Politics .” art&education . April 2009. Web. Smith, Roberta. “ Rainer Ganahl: ‘Language of Emigration & Pictures of Emigration .’” New York Times April 23 2010. Web. (shrink)

In this essay I take issue with Derek Parfit's reductionist account of personal identity.Parfit is concerned to respond to what he sees as flaws in the conception of the role of 'person' in self-interest theories. He attempts to show that the notion of a person as something over and above a totality of mental and physical states and events (in his words, a 'further fact'), is empty, and so, our ethical concerns must be based on something other than (...) this. My objections centre around the claim that Parfit employs an impoverished conception of 'life'. Parfit misconceives the connection between 'I' and one's body, and, so, despite his rejection of a metaphysical conception of 'self', remains within the logic of Cartesianism. What Parfit and other reductionists call an 'impersonal' perspective, I shall call the third-person perspective: a perspective which one in general may take. Against Parfit I shall offer a more complex conception of 'self' through the concept of 'bodily perspective'. I emphasize the irreducible ambiguities of human embodiment in order to show the presuppositions and the limitations of Parfit's view. Of interest is the conception of time and the model of continuity that is appropriate to an embodied subject's life. I employ Paul Ricoeur's concept of 'human time' to argue that the reflective character of human experience demands a model of temporality and continuity that differs significantly from the one Parfit employs. (shrink)

The ArgumentIt is often assumed that all sciences travel the path of increasing precision and quantification. It is also assumed that such processes transcend the boundaries of rival scientific disciplines. The history of the personal equation has been cited as an example: the “personal equation” was the name given by astronomers after Bessel to the differences in measured transit times recorded by observers in the same situation. Later in the nineteenth century Wilhelm Wundt used this phenomenon as a (...) type for his experiments on reaction times. For historians of psychology, this has been taken to be an exemplary case where quantified laboratory science rescued astronomy by showing that this was really a psychological phenomenon measurable only in complication experiments. This paper challenges this story. Astronomers neither ignored, nor despaired of, the personality problem. Instead, the managers of the great observatories developed a new chronometric regime of vigilant surveillance of subordinate observers. The astronomers' solution was thus intimately connected with social and material changes in their way of life: a division of labor in the observatories, a network of observing sites, a mechanization of observation. The paper documents these changes and then presents a study of one case where managers, amateurs, and psychologists clashed for authority over the personality problem. Measurement is given its meaning when situated in specific contexts of styles of work and institutions. Disciplines give meanings to values, and often resist attempts by others to redefine these meanings or to gain authority over measurement. Quantification is not a self-evident nor inevitable process in science's history, but possesses a remarkable cultural history of its own. (shrink)

The university years present the culmination of the formative years in the life of a student and an important time to consolidate the years of study while developing career and life aspirations of any youth. However, ignorance and apathy characterize the university life of many a student more than the ideal desire for an intellectual experience that would be expected. Much of this apathy and ignorance can be attributed to a failure to help the students appreciate what the university (...) ought to be and what they can gain from it in their time there. As definitive institutions of higher learning, universities ought to play a big part in shaping the next generation of leaders. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Burma’s Healthcare Under Fire: My Experience as an Exiled Medical ProfessionalP. P. KyawI used to work as a medical doctor in a less developed state than many big cities in Burma1 that experienced prolonged civil wars and current similar atrocities decades before the urban areas of the country experienced them. Before everything started, I was responsible for the medical management of the most vulnerable communities and had (...) been struggling with pandemic-related medical activities. Those were the happiest years of my life. I was with one of the best international organizations, where every effort I made was directly delivered to the patients with no unnecessary paperwork. The system was efficient, my colleagues were supportive, and I had a good work-life balance. I supported my family and whoever needed temporary financial support, played music weekly, met good friends who I hung out with every weekend, and [End Page 164] found hobbies like gardening and crocheting. I was content and happy. I even postponed my plans to get registered as a doctor in the Western world.Before moving to this beautiful ethnic state in 2019, I previously worked as a government medical doctor in Yangon, the capital. As much as I loved working in those civilian hospitals, I could not support myself with a monthly pay of $100-$150 USD. It was a hard decision to leave the service because it meant I could not pursue the medical specialty that I had always longed for and had to leave like-minded supportive colleagues. In Myanmar, unless you are a civil servant, you cannot pursue further clinical specialties. However, after leaving the government’s service to work in humanitarian medical assistance in hard-to-reach areas of Burma, I learned that life is still beautiful outside my comfort zone, until February 2021 when the coup began. Democratically elected members of the country’s ruling party were overthrown by the military, which then bestowed power in a military junta.I expected the election prior to the coup in November 2020 to be an uphill battle for Burma, but nothing more. I was still in denial when I first heard the news from one of the town’s NGO staff. The person had to travel on a motorbike to inform everyone that the junta had staged the coup. No telephone or internet was working at that time. My colleagues and I cried in our office, saying, “We are so young, and the future is still ahead. I don’t think this is going to last long. Maybe it will be over in a few days or, at most, a few weeks.” Once the peaceful protests started nationwide, my friends and I provided medical cover for the protesters, initially for minor medical problems such as low sugar, low blood pressure, injuries from accidental minor slips and falls, etc. Never in my life had I imagined that I would be taking care of bullet wounds and people injured by live rounds. While learning about gunshot wounds in forensic medicine, I thought, “Oh, this is not going to be very useful because Burma is not America, and I am not going there.” Then suddenly, it became too real and more useful than I would’ve liked it to be.I always think back to one especially bloody day when many people in the town were shot with live rounds. We assisted many patients. Usually, we would go around with the protest groups until they were over in the late afternoon. The protesters were always peaceful. There were no riots, no harmful acts, or vandalism. Only when the protesters were cruelly dispersed with tear gas, high-pressure pumps, rubber bullets, and live rounds (to the head) did they decide to defend themselves while still making their voices heard. The only defenses people had to counteract the live rounds were things like metal covers, firecrackers, and slingshots.One afternoon in March 2021, my team and I took an early break for lunch—unaware that some people would lose their lives that afternoon. We followed the local protests through Facebook Live while having lunch and started to hear firecracker sounds. A few seconds later, we knew... (shrink)

In philosophy of religion, there are few more frequently visited topics than the problem of evil, which has attracted considerable interest since the time of Epicurus. It is well known that the problem of evil involves responding to the apparent tension between 1) belief in the existence of a good, all powerful, all knowing God and 2) the existence of evil—such as personal suffering embodied in the experience of cancer. While a great deal has been written concerning abstract (...) philosophical theories that academics use to explain the existence of evil, much less has been written about how religious lay people make sense of evil and suffering. What explanations, meanings, and perceptions do they hold concerning the religious significance of evil? What can theologians and philosophers learn from these lay experiences? Our interdisciplinary team designed an experiment to identify the religious significance that personal suffering held for a group of religious cancer sufferers. We interviewed twenty-nine self-identified evangelical Christians who had received a cancer diagnosis at some point in their lives for our experiment. Since all interviewees identified as Christians, it was expected that they would assent to belief in a theistic God. It was also expected that each interviewee would assent the existence of evil and see their cancer experience as a dramatic and personal instance of an evil event. The explicit existential threat of cancer guarantees that the individual has much at stake in the experience. Furthermore, the pain and suffering that typically accompanies either the cancer itself or cancer treatments make it a compelling example of evil experienced in a very personal way. Finally, even when successfully treated, the ongoing threat of potentially fatal recurrence looms over the sufferer for years to come. We asked 17 questions related to the religious significance of their cancer experience in each interview and coded these interviews looking for five distinct types of explanations for/meaning of evil: trusting God in mystery, free will, moral development, spiritual growth, and growth in human relationships/community. These categories were meant to correspond loosely to five philosophical responses to the existence of evil.Our interviews included several important results. First, 79% of interviewees had at least one answer that fit into the ‘trust God in mystery’ category of responses with 48% using this category of responses as their most frequently cited theme. This result could be interpreted as a kind of generic theodical response: God has a good, but unknown reason for allowing evil/suffering. Alternatively, another possible interpretation is that at least some of these interviewees intuited something similar to skeptical theism, since it claims that if one understands the type of God proposed by theism and possesses an accurate view of human cognitive capacities, it is apparent that there is no real tension to be resolved between theism and the existence of evil. Some of our interviewees seemed to believe not only that the answer to why evil exists is mysterious, but that they simply could not have the necessary perspective to judge what kinds of purposes God might have for allowing this painful episode in their lives.While it was unsurprising that religious sufferers would find it important to trust God in ambiguous difficult circumstances, more surprisingly, we found that 52% of our respondents did not judge that their cancer experience was at all in tension with their religious beliefs. Whereas a broad range of philosophers and theologians acknowledge that there is at least an apparent conflict between the existence of a good, all-powerful God and the existence of evil, most of our interviewees did not even perceive an apparent tension between theistic beliefs and their painful cancer experiences that would be in need of additional reconciliation.There are at least two ways this result might be interpreted. First, our interviewees might hold additional beliefs that make the existence of evil easier for them to accept. After all, these interviewees were not ‘bare theists’ who held only to the existence of God, but presumably held a broad range of religious beliefs which may already serve to reconcile the existence of evil: that growing closer to God is more important than earthly life itself, that in evil in this life allows us a greater appreciation of a blessed eternity, or simply that ‘God works for our good in mysterious ways.’ Thus, a fully developed Christian worldview may already accommodate the existence of evil in a way not fully appreciated by philosophers.Another possible interpretation is that at least some of our interviewees were not adequately reflective to perceive the tension between their religious beliefs and their experience of suffering. There is at least some reason to doubt this explanation as an overarching interpretation of this result since our interviewees were generally well educated with the median participant holding at least a Bachelor’s degree, and most were ongoing participants in a cancer support group ensuring long-term ongoing engagement with their cancer experience.A final significant finding is that a high portion of our interviewees, 83% reported specific examples of beneficial personal growth—moral, spiritual, or relational— that resulted from their cancer experience. When asked about their cancer experience’s broad effect upon their lives in these areas they volunteered at least one example of a benefit they received in these areas. Depending on one’s accompanying value theory and whether such benefits might have been otherwise achieved, they might provide a morally sufficient reason for the existence of suffering. Our interviewees frequently described experiencing the kind of benefits at the heart of John Hick’s soul making theodicy and Eleonore Stump’s ‘spiritual growth’ theodicy, providing at least some corroborating evidence for such views. Experiences common to our interviewees were similar to what such theodicies would predict. (shrink)

Our lives are guided by habits. Most of the activities we engage in throughout the day are initiated and carried out not by rational thought and deliberation, but through an ingrained set of dispositions or patterns of action—what Aristotle calls a hexis. We develop these dispositions over time, by acting and gauging how the world responds. I tilt the steering wheel too far and the car’s lurch teaches me how much force is needed to steady it. I come (...) too close to a hot stove and the burn I get inclines me not to get too close again. This feedback and the habits it produces are bodily. They are possible because the medium through which these actions take place is a physical, sensible one. The world around us is, in the language of postphenomenology, an opaque one. We notice its texture and contours as we move through it, and crucially, we bump up against it from time to time. The digital world, by contrast, is largely transparent. Digital media are designed to recede from view. As a result, we experience little friction as we carry out activities online; the consequences of our actions are often not apparent to us. This distinction between the opacity of the natural world and the transparency of the digital one raises important questions. In this chapter, I ask: how does the transparency of digital media affect our ability to develop healthy habits online? If the digital world is constructed precisely not to push back against us, how are we supposed to gauge whether our actions are good or bad, for us and for others? The answer to this question has important ramifications for a number of ethical, political, and policy debates around issues in online life. For in order to advance cherished norms like privacy, civility, and fairness online, we need more than good laws and good policies—we need good habits, which dispose us to act in ways conducive to our and others’ flourishing. (shrink)

Psychologically based accounts of personal identity over time start from a view of persons as experiencing subjects. Derek Parfit argues that if such an account is to justify the importance we attach to identity it will need to provide a deep unity of consciousness throughout the life of a person, and no such unity is possible. In response, many philosophers have switched to a view of persons as essentially agents, arguing that the importance of identity depends upon (...) agential unity rather than unity of consciousness. While this shift contributes significantly to the discussion, it does not offer a fully satisfying alternative. Unity of consciousness still seems required if identity is to be as important as we think it is. Views of identity based on agential unity do, however, point to a new understanding of unity of consciousness which meets Parfit's challenge, yielding an integrated view of identity which sees persons as both subjects and agents. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:William James, W. E. B. Du Bois, and the Art of New Religious IdealsKolby Knight (bio)And I don’t know a soul who’s not been batteredI don’t have a friend who feels at easeI don’t know a dream that’s not been shatteredOr driven to its knees...Oh, and it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alrightYou can’t be forever blessedStill, tomorrow’s going to be another working dayAnd I’m trying to get some restThat’s (...) all, I’m trying to get some rest—Paul Simon, “American Tune” (1973) / Recreated by Allen Toussaint (2016)William James and W. E. B. Du Bois believed that an artful life could produce new and world-changing religious ideals. As cosmopolitan scholars who studied in the United States and Europe, both men confidently interlaced original interpretations of Shakespeare, Wagner, and Goethe into their academic accounts of individual and social behavior. Beyond their patronage of the arts, James and Du Bois also saw themselves as scientists and artists who had the responsibility to create new pathways and religious ideals at a time when many European and American intellectuals depicted Western civilization as the endpoint of history.This article explores the pragmatic visions of science, art, and religion respectively offered by James and Du Bois. Pragmatism, here, refers to an active mode of study that looks closely at the interaction between specific thoughts and behaviors in particular situations without assuming a standard of truth which influences or evaluates human life from the outside of experience. As pragmatists, James and Du Bois did not believe their work consisted of merely the explication and description of preexisting truths, but more importantly the religious creation of what James called “new facts,” including healthier habits of thought and practice.1 [End Page 71]In this article, I will trace how the two men, as religious naturalists and leaders in the development of a pragmatic social science at the turn of the twentieth century, challenged evolutionary theories which envisioned Western civilization as the highest standard of aesthetic and intellectual development. Part one demonstrates how James, as a psychologist who prioritized the study and development of “first-hand” experiences, worked against visions of science that saw “lower” emotions as a hindrance to impartial intellectual discovery. It also explores how James centered personal religious experiences in his effort to de-center “impersonal” scientific frameworks which depicted human behavior and thinking as beholden to evolutionary laws which transcended individual experience. Part two considers James’s dissatisfaction with the “bad habits” of his privileged intellectual class, and how his own experience of “soul-sickness” and “stage fright” led him to contest both celebratory histories of Western progress and institutional arrangements which juxtaposed his “mystifying” intellectual performances to the lives of everyday people.Part three moves to how Du Bois, as a sociologist and former student of James, refocused James’s religious pragmatism within the context of his experience of anti-Black racism in the United States. This section traces how Du Bois saw his intellectual career as a work of art which could empower Black individuals to see themselves beyond what David Lloyd describes as “the racial regime of aesthetics” which imagines the progress of “lower humans” as dependent on higher civilizational and educational agents. This section also offers a tripartite interpretation of Du Bois’s experience of “double-consciousness” that considers its aesthetic, social, and political dimensions.2 While James expressed a desire to discard his own sense of double-consciousness, Du Bois’s experience of anti-Black racism made his two-ness more enforced and insidious. The fourth section looks at Du Bois’s disillusionment with white standards of beauty and intelligence as an experience akin to what James described as “soul-sickness.” It shows that whereas James believed that his negative emotional experiences could lead him to “new religious ideals” taking shape within the spiritual energy [End Page 72] and discomforts of his own individual body, Du Bois’s negative experience of racism led him to immerse himself in the religious and artistic vitality of Black social worlds which resisted the oppressive mechanisms and caricatures of... (shrink)

The sciences of genetics and genomics are revealing more all the time regarding our statuses as individuals relative to our particular genomes. Geographical isolation is presumably the greatest factor in allowing for populations of a species to change genetically over time, in response to environmental pressures and genetic drift accelerated by the mechanism of sexual reproduction. In order to develop a robust account of what rights individual members of the human species might have to either their own (...) particular DNA or the human genome in general, one need to explain the relations between individuals and species in regards to deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA). The fact that genes carry over from species to species does not mean that those genes are completely identical across all species. Laws and regulations exist that govern the use of human tissues and property rights over their products. (shrink)

The purpose of this study was to establish the personal impact that managing sexually abused learners had on primary school educators working in an East London (South Africa) community. In addition, the researchers sought to establish what support these educators felt they needed in order to help alleviate the personal impact that managing sexually abused learners might have on them.A phenomenological approach was employed to address the research questions. Using availability-sampling methods, four educators from a local primary school (...) were interviewed and the data systematically analysed in accordance with Morrisette’s (1999) seven–step procedural model.The present study confirmed the finding of Skinner (1999) and Mzamo (2003) that managing cases of sexually abused learners had a profound personal effect on the participants. What was most commonly felt was a sense of frustration with the justice system, as well as a sense of personal responsibility. In addition, the participants felt that they needed support structures to assist them in managing sexual abuse cases in the school. In particular, they felt that they needed a forum where they could share their own experiences and feelings, as well as receive guidance on how to deal with problems in their class. A need for more support from professional psychologists was also expressed, as well as a need for counselling skills training and general training in the area of child sexual abuse. It is hoped that these findings will prove useful in providing guidelines for the development of appropriate support structures for educators managing cases of child sexual abuse in South African schools. More research on the subject needs to be conducted within South Africa, however, in order to ensure that the support structures implemented address context-specific needs. (shrink)

Drawing from a long history of feminist writing grounded in personal reflection and informal dialogue between feminist thinkers, Cobb and Godden-Rasul present an email-based conversation with Jess Lishak, the outgoing Women’s Officer at the University of Manchester Students’ Union. The conversation draws on Cobb and Godden-Rasul’s experience as feminist academics engaged in critical institutional practice through such initiatives as editing the Inherently Human blog, organising the Inspirational Women of Law exhibition, and participating in university working groups on campus-based (...) harassment and violence. In asking Lishak to reflect on her journey to feminism and her experiences of activism, the conversation ranges over such issues as personal influences and experiences, strategies for securing institutional support, encouraging student engagement with feminism, and campaigning tactics. The conversation developed out of a “Campus Feminisms” event in March 2016, which explored the rise of exciting new grassroots single-issue campaigns and political mobilisations by students in higher education, and was organised by Cobb and Godden-Rasul at Newcastle University, UK. Undergraduate and postgraduate students shared their personal struggles and achievements in bringing feminist ideas and campaigns to their university campuses. Lucy Morgan, the Gender Equality Officer at Newcastle University Students’ Union, offered inspiring reflections on her efforts to reinvigorate the ‘F’ word, in the face of simultaneous student apathy and backlash. Many of these campus-based mobilisations have demanded better institutional responses to sexual violence against women. At around the same time, Cobb was beginning a new role as the co-chair of the University of Manchester’s first Task & Finish Group on Sexual Violence and Harassment on Campus. This followed Universities UK’s decision to create a taskforce to consider options for improving institutional responses to student safety. In the process, Cobb crossed paths with Lishak, who had been appointed a member of the UUK Taskforce in light of her path-breaking students’ union work addressing violence against women. Since Lishak was an exemplar of this new feminist wave in higher education, one that was still inadequately understood by feminist academics despite often working side-by-side within the same institutions, the authors embarked on this conversation in order to better understand the relationship between academic and student feminist activism on campus. As Lishak makes clear in her own reflections, there is nothing inevitable about the synergies between these movements, but there is potentially a great deal that could be achieved through their closer engagement. (shrink)

In the first part of the paper an argument is developed to the effect that (1) there is no moral ground for individual persons to feel responsible for or guilty about crimes of their group to which they have in no way contributed; and (2) since there is no irreducibly collective responsibility nor guilt at any time, there is no question of them persisting over time. In the second part it is argued that there is nevertheless sufficient reason (...) for innocent individual members of a group (that persists over time) to take on responsibility and guilt for the evil other (earlier) members have committed. The reason depends on the acceptability of a particular psychological theory of personal identity. (shrink)

Academics and professionals working with young women face a series of paradoxes. Over the last 20 years, the lives of young women in the UK and Europe have been transformed. They have gained considerable freedom and independence, but at the very same time, new, less tangible forms of constraint and subordination now play a defining role in the formation of their everyday subjectivities and identities. Young women have come to exemplify the pervasive sensibility of self-responsibility and self-organisation. This new (...) ‘gender regime’ demands both conceptualisation and practical response, drawing on educational research, social and cultural theory, and contemporary feminist thought. Within the overarching theme of pedagogical responses to these trends, through work in schools and within young women’s online and face-to-face communities, this book interrogates the field of sexuality and its visualisation across new and old media in the context of often predictable and endemic ‘moral panics’ about teenage pregnancy rates, sexually transmitted diseases, and internet pornography. In exploring how girls and young women respond to increasing expectations of them as the vanguard of economic, social, and cultural change, contributors to this volume interrogate the ways in which social and educational aspiration interact with young women’s developing and embodied identities. This book was originally published as a special issue of _Pedagogy, Culture and Society. _. (shrink)

How do newborns learn to recognize objects? According to temporal learning models in computational neuroscience, the brain constructs object representations by extracting smoothly changing features from the environment. To date, however, it is unknown whether newborns depend on smoothly changing features to build invariant object representations. Here, we used an automated controlled-rearing method to examine whether visual experience with smoothly changing features facilitates the development of view-invariant object recognition in a newborn animal model—the domestic chick. When newborn chicks were (...) reared with a virtual object that moved smoothly over time, the chicks created view-invariant representations that were selective for object identity and tolerant to viewpoint changes. Conversely, when newborn chicks were reared with a temporally non-smooth object, the chicks developed less selectivity for identity features and less tolerance to viewpoint changes. These results provide evidence for a “smoothness constraint” on the development of invariant object recognition and indicate that newborns leverage the temporal smoothness of natural visual environments to build abstract mental models of objects. (shrink)

Much phenomenological work on race has focused on the bodily experiences of persons of color in white spaces or in the face of the white gaze. But comparatively little has been written about how to change these bodily experiences. This article fills this gap by discussing the perspective of those who enact bodily habits alienate persons of color, or what this article calls “racializing bodily habits.” It defends a novel path toward reforming these habits: the practice of (...) mindfulness meditation. The key premise in this argument is that reforming racializing bodily habits requires that one transform one’s perception of and affective responses to racialized others. It explains that mindfulness meditation slows our experience of time, thereby opening up the possibility for new affective responses, perceptual habits, and bodily habits. This article bases its argument on qualitative descriptions of mindfulness meditation and on empirical research on its effects. (shrink)

Books have their origins in conversations and seek to extend and expand those conversations over time and with different audiences. The conversations that have culminated in this book were initially stimulated through a research project at The Hastings Center on the role of religious voices in the professional fields of bioethical inquiry. Those professional conversations have continued throughout my academic career as a member of various institutional ethics committees, organizational ethics task forces, and in local, state, and national public (...) policy settings. The professional context of bioethics conversations can sometimes miss the richness of conversations that occur in the classroom and with various communities, including family members, friends, and religious and civic communities. These conversations provide an experiential depth, a groundedness in the lives and stories of persons, which augments and corrects the professionalized perspectives. I have been particularly fortunate and appreciative of opportunities to bridge the academic and professional with the personalized and communal through conversations about the ethical commitments and moral culture cultivated by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS or Mormon). I was invited to develop an overview essay on "Bioethics in Mormonism" for the professional reference work, Encyclopedia of Bioethics (3rd ed., 2004), and some years later received my first invitation to make a presentation on "LDS Ethics" in an academic setting at the University of Virginia. This book is the outgrowth of these many conversations and seeks to advance my communal bridging. My aim in this book is to begin bridging these various intersections between the LDS religious community and its moral culture, the professional fields of bioethics, and practical decision-making. This work seeks to be a catalyst for expanding discourse within the interdisciplinary field of Mormon studies to include ethics and bioethics. Ethics has not been a well-developed area in Mormon studies, in contrast to studies in LDS history, theology, or literature. To remedy this oversight, I present a substantive interpretation of the sources, theological background, and moral principles of LDS ethics. The historical narratives and conceptual intertwining I offer of both bioethics and of LDS moral culture is intended to complement and expand the realm of Mormon studies. A further objective is to create opportunities for reciprocal dialogues between the bioethics community and LDS scholarship. This conversation has yet to occur within academic disciplines, professional communities, or in public policy deliberations. My exposition, analysis, and critiques will intertwine and contextualize LDS moral values and health care practices within the ethical inquiry undertaken in the broader professional scholarship of bioethics. My arguments will disclose some points of common ground as well as areas of divergence towards the end of establishing the LDS faith tradition as a community of moral discourse for the bioethics field and the healing professions (medicine, nursing, pharmacy, etc.) it informs. My claim is that given its emerging cultural prominence, LDS ethical scholarship should engage in bioethical literacy and bioethics should be LDS-literate. I am also engaged in an effort to initiate more reflective dialogues regarding LDS ethics and moral culture among LDS scholars, LDS health care professionals, and the interested general LDS reader. The focus of the book on the interrelationship of religion, ethics, medicine, and health care should present for these various audiences new opportunities for mindful reflection and creative scholarship on the ethical implications of faith commitments, the responsibilities of the healing professions, and religious dimensions of public policy and public bioethics. A religious community that is formed through narratives and practices of covenantal commitments of love of neighbor needs to have a robust discourse about its ethical character. I have understood my scholarship in biomedical ethics and in religious ethics through a linking metaphor of my moral culture, of medicine, and the law, of bearing witness. The witness offers moral realities, moral truths about the way things are, vocalizes and embodies moral experience, and prophetically critiques the hypocrisies of the powerful and their oppression of the vulnerable by offering a new story, a re-storying, of tradition and conventional practice. (shrink)

Le terme de « personne » est devenu aujourd’hui très abstrait, y compris dans le personnalisme, et il est nécessaire de lui redonner le statut d’un vrai concept. Une telle tâche est rendue possible par la méthode de la phénoménologie qui seule peut être attentive à l’identité propre de la personne par rapport à l’identité de la chose. Contre le concept juridique de personne et contre les pensées de l’identité personnelle issues de Locke, Husserl permet de montrer en quoi l’identité (...) personnelle n’est pas simplement l’identité passée formée par le souvenir, mais qu’elle est l’identité présente que le sujet se donne dans le temps, dans la chair et dans la vie de la volonté. Heidegger, lui, permet de faire un pas de plus dans l’analyse du caractère concret de la personne en montrant que, antérieurement au sujet qui se forme lui-même, la personne est cet être qui découvre ses possibilités les plus propres à partir de sa vie dans le monde ; la personne est alors ce qu’elle a à être. Il est ainsi possible, en se libérant de toute idée de constance, de retrouver la dimension relationnelle et responsive de la personne qui était au centre de la philosophie médiévale.The term of « person » has become very abstract today, as well in personalism, ant it is necessary to regive it the status of a concept. This has been made possible by the method of phenomenology which alone can be attentive to the actual identity of the person compared with the identity of thing. Against the juridical concept of person, and against the philosophy of personal identity since Locke, Husserl shows how the personal identity is no simply our past identity formed by the memory, but that it is the present identity that the subject develops over time, in the life and flesh of our will. Heidegger allows to go one step further in the analysis of the concrete character of the person by showing that prior to the subject that forms itself, the person is his being who discovers his own possibilities from what he experiences in life ; the person thus becomes what he has to be. It is necessary to show, free ourselves from all idea of constancy, that person is defined by relation and reply. (shrink)

In this article, I focus on possibly impaired self-determination in addiction. After some methodological reflections, I introduce a phenomenological description of the experience of being self-determined. I argue that being self-determined implies effectivity of agency regarding three different behavioural domains. Such self-referential agency shall be called ‘self-effectivity’ in this article. In a second step, I will use this phenomenological description to understand the impairments of self-determination in addiction. While addiction does not necessarily imply a basic lack of control (...) class='Hi'>over one’s life, this can well be the case during certain periods of time or in special situations. Addiction is herein described as an embodied custom—highly effective with respect to changing one’s lived experience—which is learned and developed while becoming addicted. Such a repeatedly performed custom, called a ‘psychotropic technique’, implies deep changes in one’s personal identity and alters an agent’s ‘self-effectivity’. In the closing section, I discuss the possible implications of a phenomenological approach to personal responsibility. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Beyond Personal Identity: Dōgen, Nishida, and a Phenomenology of No-SelfCarl OlsonBeyond Personal Identity: Dōgen, Nishida, and a Phenomenology of No-Self. By Gereon Kopf. Richmond, UK: Curzon Press, 2001. 298 + xx pp.This work of comparative philosophy focuses on the problem of the self by comparing Western existential and phenomenological thought with Zen thinkers such as Dōgen and Nishida. In addition to such thinkers as Jean-Paul Sartre, (...) Merleau-Ponty, Edmund Husserl, and Martin Heidegger, the author also includes a discussion of such Western philosophers as Descartes, Kant, Leibniz, Lock, and Hume. The author demonstrates a knowledgeable command of his subjects and the central focus of the book.After discussing the problem of personal identity in the first part of the book, the author uses the second part of the book to place phenomenologists into dialogue with Zen Buddhist thinkers. The second part of the book includes the following topics: selfhood, otherness, continuity of experience, and temporality. In the final part of the book, the author considers the Zen conception of personal identity by discussing a Zen phenomenology of experience and personhood as presencing. Within the context of this final part of the book, Kopf wants to develop terminology that derives from both phenomenology and Zen Buddhism in order to consider the Zen notion of no-self as a process of presencing. This approach gives the author an opportunity to explore the philosophical implications of Zen Buddhist terminology and rhetoric and to suggest a way to theorize and discuss the self beyond personal [End Page 200] identity. Overall, each of the three parts of the book provides a different perspective: a discourse on personal identity, a comparative philosophical perspective, and a Zen viewpoint.This work of comparative philosophy embodies an internal tension between the position of the author and the impermanent nature of the non-self in Zen Buddhism. Kopf acknowledges his basic position in the following way: "It is my thesis that the framing of the question of personal identity already implies the notion of an enduring self" (p. xviii). In contrast, Dōgen rejects the notion of an enduring self or personal identity. The author's stated thesis and that of Zen Buddhism suggests that continuity is a crucial issue for this book.In chapter 4, Kopf elucidates his understanding of the continuity of experience: "The notion of continuity reflects the assumption that the 'I' of human experience is not without a history: It finds itself in the context of past experiences, which the experiental 'I' encounters in memories, as well as in a given situation" (p. 124). In short, a person finds oneself thrown into a situation. After discussing Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, the non-self doctrine in early Buddhism, how the Mahāyāna thinker Vasubandhu attributes continuity of experience to the habit energy produced by karmic activity, and how Nāgārjuna collapses the distinction between sam.sāra and nirvan.a, the author considers the positions of Dōgen and Nishida. The former defines the continuity of experience by two diachronically diverse dharma positions instead of three moments of time. This position suggests that Dōgen views continuity as the process from the present to the present and not as a process that operates from the past into the future. According to Nishida, the I-Thou forms a nonrelative contradictory self-identity, and it exists in the world of expression. This implies that the self is simultaneously continuous and discontinuous.In his chapter on temporality, Kopf distinguishes between abstract time, phenomenal time, lived time, and actual time, which is a fourth dimension suggested by Dōgen and Nishida. Abstract time is rejected because time is inseparable from existence. Grasping time as a dynamic event, the author discusses phenomenal time, in which the self realizes its own temporality and historicity. In contrast to the threefold structure of abstract time, phenomenal time possesses a twofold structure of past and future, whereas lived time embodies an internal unity in which the present unifies the past and future. A fourth dimension of time—actual time—is suggested by the work of Dōgen and Nishida. Actual time expresses a "modality of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Subjective Experiences of Tourette SyndromeBeyond the Premonitory UrgeThe authors report no conflicts of interest.There is an evolving recognition in healthcare that the patient's subjective experience needs to be privileged both in understanding clinical phenomena and also ensuring the salience of outcomes used to evaluate the impact of treatment interventions. This is reflected in the expansion of patient-reported outcome measures to capture a person's perception of their own health, (...) and the increasing requirement of involving people with lived experience in the co-design of research studies (National Health and Medical Research Council, 2016) and care improvement initiatives. In mental health it has been long understood that observable behavioral phenomena can only partially inform clinical understanding of the experience of the patient living with the condition. However, capturing the patient's subjective experience faithfully remains a challenge.Tourette syndrome (TS) is a complex condition in which there are clearly observable behavioral phenomena (vocal and motor tics, compulsive and socially inappropriate behaviors), but also a broad and varied range of subjective phenomena reported by different individuals. These may include sensory phenomena such as the premonitory sensory urge preceding a tic, compulsions to touch things a certain number of times or do something repeatedly until it feels "just right," or bothersome intrusive thoughts or images. To further complicate the picture most patients with TS have one or more co-occurring conditions such as attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and anxiety, which may actually cause a greater burden of dysfunction and distress than the Tourette symptoms.In their paper, Curtis-Wendlandt et al. (2024) challenge the dependence of current psychiatric diagnostic criteria (e.g., the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th edition) on observable tics, and propose a broader and more dimensional approach to nosology which incorporates sensory, cognitive and affective phenomena. [End Page 47] Data from interviews they conducted identified that premonitory phenomena and urge experiences in tic disorders are more complex and diverse than what is currently reflected in the literature and clinical scales. They also interviewed participants who reported "no urges" or "no premonitory sensations." They commented that the literature generally treats reports of urge absences at face value, and does not address the likelihood that such reports may be ambiguous or problematic. Overall, they concluded that their research suggests that premonitory urges in TS are a complex and diverse phenomenon that requires further study. This reflects with our clinical experience in working with TS patients. Although a large proportion of older patients describe sensory-based premonitory urges, descriptions are not homogenous, with many describing other experiences preceding their tics.When evaluating a patient's response to an intervention (either behavioral or pharmacological) clinicians incorporate a range of information. This includes the severity of their tics (number, type, frequency, intensity, and associated impairment), as well as their mood, participation and performance in study, work, and social activities, and overall quality of life. Standard clinical practice would not typically include assessment of some of the subjective experiences which precede tics. If it was accepted that these subjective phenomena are indeed salient to the patient's well-being, then a challenge would be how to consistently and reliably capture these feelings to operationalize a comprehensive patient-centered assessment.The primary evidence-based treatment for tic disorders, comprehensive behavioral intervention for tics (CBIT), involves training to increase the awareness of premonitory urges (Woods et al., 2008). Furthermore, successful 'blocking' of tics during the course of CBIT requires the patient to be aware of premonitory urges. Clinicians having a better understanding of the complexity and diversity of experiences which precede tics, as well as using open-ended questioning styles, may assist with improving CBIT outcomes. [End Page 48]Related ArticlesFeature Article: Dimensions, Not Types: On the Phenomenology of Premonitory Urges in Tourette SyndromeCommentary: Priming and Narrative Habits in the Phenomenological Interview: Reflections on a Study of Tourette SyndromeCommentary: Subjective Experiences of Tourette Syndrome: Beyond the Premonitory UrgeResponse: Phenomenological Interviews and Tourette’sDaryl EfronThe Royal Children's Hospital MelbourneIvan MathiesonThe Laneway ClinicDaryl Efron Daryl Efron is a Consultant Pediatrician, Royal Children's Hospital Senior Research Fellow, Murdoch... (shrink)

Vast research has sought to better understand the origins and development of rape myth beliefs given the problematic influence of such misconceptions throughout global societies and criminal justice pathways. The current research aims to build on this body of literature by examining the contribution that psychopathic personality traits (affective responsiveness, cognitive responsiveness, interpersonal manipulation, egocentricity) and emotional intelligence may have upon rape myth beliefs. Furthermore, this study will investigate the extent to which sociodemographic characteristics (age, gender, ethnicity, education), and prior (...) experience of sexual victimisation, contribute to variance in rape myth acceptance scores. In total 251 participants (M Age = 31.66) completed an online, self-report questionnaire which included contemporary measures of psychopathy and rape myth acceptance, never previously tested in combination. Results of a hierarchical multiple regression analysis indicate that egocentricity, age, and gender were significantly associated with rape myth beliefs. Emotional intelligence, as well as affective and interpersonal traits of psychopathy, were not directly related with rape mythology. Findings are interpreted alongside previous research, where we suggest there is an urgent need for larger, nationally representative samples, systematically recruited from the general population to help clarify uncertainty in existing literature emerging from small-scale opportunistic datasets. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Minds, Memes, and MultiplesStephen R. L. Clark (bio)AbstractMultiple Personality Disorder is sometimes interpreted as evidence for a radically pluralistic theory of the human mind, judged to be at odds with an older, monistic theory. Older philosophy, on the contrary, suggests that the mind is both plural (in its sub-systems or personalities) and unitary (in that there is only one light over all those lesser parts). Talk of gods (...) and demons has been a way of arranging elements of human mind and motivation. The one light, or center, is something which requires mental discipline to discover rather than being immediately obvious. This indeed is what even Descartes (sometimes blamed for introducing the notion of a simple, transparent self) really intended. Discovering or uncovering the Self is a psychotherapeutic as well as a philosophical imperative.Keywordsconsciousness, gods, Multiple Personality Disorder, passivity, thought alienationMultiple Personality 1The phenomena popularly identified as evidence of “multiple personality disorder” are strangely attractive. The stories suggest that those who provide, who are, the evidence for this disorder are usually in acute distress, but those who wish to believe in it find the idea almost exhilarating. Most of us would rather wish to think that we had undeveloped possibilities, that it would be exciting to be a married academic today, a celibate bus-driver tomorrow and a teenage hooligan on Sundays. The impulse to put aside our duties, or our habits, can be a powerful one, and only the sober thought that we would not, after all, succeed in keeping our lives separate keeps us single. The notion that there are people who take the risk, that our bodies could house a multitude, is one we would wish to believe. At the same time, we wish to remember that such divisions bring their own problems, and as easily suspect that those who apparently succeed in dividing themselves up must have suffered serious trauma in the past, and be plagued by missed appointments and self-hatred in the present. Some of us believe that “multiple personality” reveals a truth about us all, that none of us is actually the simple, heroic self that we pretend: “the self” is only an occasionally concordant swarm of impulses, easily divided. Others of us suspect that it is a wish to avoid responsibility, and guilt, that causes some of us to pretend not to be the selves that actually we are (see Rycroft 1987).On earlier occasions (notably Clark 1991b), I have myself expressed some doubt about reports of Multiple Personality Disorder, and suggested that they should be seen as fictions or dramatic representations (whether by the patient or the reporter) which should not be judged as “true” or “false,” but rather as “interesting” or “pernicious.” Stephen Braude, in a recent excellent book, seems at first to side with the true believers: it is absurd, he suggests, not to believe the many reports of fugue, discordance and fully developed multiples (Braude 1991; see also Wilkes 1984, [End Page 21] Brennan 1990). Maybe a few such reports are over-credulous: it would not be surprising that the occasional clever criminal successfully pretended not to know what an alien other did with his body. But there are, he says, too many independent records to disbelieve, and not only the distant stories of Miss Beauchamp (Prince 1908) or Eve (Thigpen & Cleckley 1954, 1957). Since the 1970s the number of reported cases has been rising again. It may be that some, many, or all the cases are artifacts, in the sense that the doctor’s expectations helped to produce or develop the varied personalities: “when a client walks into the therapist’s office and sits down, the expectation framework of the therapist immediately comes into play” (Crabtree 1985, 211; see also Hawthorn 1983). But the evidence is also compatible with the thought that psychotherapeutic fashion now allows the therapist to notice, rather than invent, the phenomena. Multiples often wish to conceal their condition, it is said, and only observers alerted to the possibility will notice them. Conscious or half-conscious role-playing, which would perhaps be less philosophically interesting, cannot explain more than a few of the cruder cases.In short... (shrink)

According to the ‘starting-gate’ interpretation of equality of opportunity, individuals who enjoy equal starts can legitimately become unequal to the extent that their differences derive from choices for which they can be held responsible. There can be no coercive transfers of resources in favour of individuals who disregarded their own futures, and no limits on the right of an individual to distribute resources intrapersonally. This paper assesses two ways in which advocates of equality of opportunity might depart from the starting-gate (...) interpretation. The first involves limiting the degree to which people are liable to pay the costs of their past choices. The second involves limiting their initial opportunities so as to prevent certain risky or apparently short-sighted choices. The paper compares these alternatives in terms of their compatibility with a particular conception of persons as morally equal and temporally extended. It constructs this conception by combining reductionist premises about personal identity with the premise that our status as equals is based on the fundamental requirement of opacity respect. Two conclusions about equality of opportunity are shown to follow from this conception of persons as morally equal and temporally extended: the first is that an individual’s liability to pay the costs of her past choices does not diminish over time; the second is that the individual’s initial scope of choice, in bringing about intrapersonal distributions between her current and future selves, can nevertheless be permissibly limited. The two conclusions are consistent, and the second allows for departures from starting-gate equality of opportunity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Psychological CourageDaniel Putman (bio)AbstractBeginning with Aristotle philosophers have analyzed physical courage and moral courage in great detail. However, philosophy has never addressed the type of courage involved in facing the fears generated by our habits and emotions. This essay introduces the concept of psychological courage and argues that it deserves to be recognized in ethics as a form of courage. I examine three broad areas of psychological problems: (...) destructive habits; irrational anxieties; and psychological servitude in which one individual emotionally controls another. Psychological courage is the strength to confront and work through these problems. Such courage involves facing our deep-seated fear of psychological instability. I conclude that the development of psychological courage is essential to the well-being of many people.Keywordscourage, Aristotle, habits, dependency, rashness, cowardice, anxiety disorders, patienceThe virtue of courage exhibits different forms in human life. Types of courage can be broadly differentiated in terms of the fear which must be faced and the goal to be attained. Two forms of courage have been discussed at some length in the history of ethics. “Physical courage” is characterized by overcoming a fear of death or physical harm. The goals to be achieved by its exercise are traditionally defined by society or by the requirements of survival. The paradigmatic example is Aristotle’s (1987) brave soldier who faces death to defend his city (1115a25–35). Another example would be bravely defending self and family against a threat from nature such as a flood or dangerous carnivore. The second form, “moral courage,” also has some allusions in Aristotle (1115a12–13; 1115b1–2), but Plato’s portrayal of Socrates is in many ways the archetype for moral courage in Western philosophy. While Socrates is also said to have displayed physical courage in defending Athens, it is his fearlessness in defending a deeply held greater moral good against society which has inspired untold numbers of Plato’s readers, from the Stoics to today’s students. 1 In moral courage the major fear is loss of ethical integrity or authenticity, but moral courage is also tied to dealing with social disapproval (Martin 1986, ch. 4; Walton 1986). The person confronting her peer group over a racist joke displays moral courage. In acting courageously the individual maintains moral integrity while at the same time overcoming the fear of being rejected by friends. Other examples abound: the whistle-blower facing ostracism from colleagues for calling attention to injustice in the workplace, or the Quaker or Buddhist protesting against a manufacturer of armaments. Examples of physical and moral courage often overlap. Gandhi (as well as Socrates) exhibited moral courage while facing death, and a soldier in battle may have to deal with peer rejection of his heroic actions. However, the distinction, while imprecise, does speak usefully to quite different forms of courageous experience. [End Page 1]In this paper I want to introduce a third form of courage almost never discussed in the literature. Best called “psychological courage,” it is a form of the virtue which millions of human beings have to possess and exercise on a regular basis. The fear to be faced is not usually that of physical harm, nor is it fear of social ostracism. Nor is loss of moral integrity a major concern. The fear centers around a loss of psychological stability. I speak of the courage it takes to face our irrational fears and anxieties, those passions which, in Spinoza’s terms, hold us in bondage. These can range from habits and compulsions to phobias. Aristotle would have classified many of these under lack of temperance. A drinking habit or an irrational fear of open spaces reflects a lack of proper balance regarding the pleasures of life. But facing and working through these habits or anxieties can involve courage for several reasons. First, to admit the problem is to face the possibility of being stigmatized by society. In this sense psychological courage has some similarities to moral courage. Second, a great deal of pain, physical and psychological, can be involved in confronting the anxiety or changing the habit, and the individual knows this beforehand. Third, and most significant to this form of courage, the stability... (shrink)

Nichols and Bruno claim that the folk judge that psychological continuity is necessary for personal identity. In this article, we evaluate this claim. First, we argue that it is likely that in thinking about hypothetical cases of transformations, the folk do not use a unitary concept of personal identity, but instead rely on different concepts of ‘person’, ‘identity’, and ‘individual’. Identity can be ascribed even when post-transformation individuals are no longer categorized as persons. Second, we provide new empirical (...) evidence suggesting that the folk do not consider psychological continuity to be necessary for an individual to be categorized as a person or for ascribing identity over time and through transformations. In this, we assume, along with Nichols and Bruno, that folk judgments about identity can be read off the use of proper names. Furthermore, we raise some doubts about the ability of current experimental designs to adequately distinguish between qualitative and numerical identity jud.. (shrink)

This article reassesses the notion of personal identity over time from a Heideggerian perspective, aiming to bridge the conceptual gap between concerns for personhood and continuity. Traditional approaches, including the psychological and moral approaches to the self, often inadequately address the relationship between personhood and temporal continuity. This article establishes an understanding of personhood as social agency, contending that this perspective encompasses both conceptual dimensions central to the question of personal identity over time. Following an initial (...) exploration of the problem (§ 2), a concept of social agency rooted in Heidegger’s notion of Dasein is developed in comparison with alternative conceptions of personhood (§ 3). Subsequently, drawing on Arthur Danto’s philosophy of history, Heidegger’s perspective on personal identity over time is examined with a focus on historicity (§ 4). Lastly, this account is compared with contemporary views on personhood and identity over time (§ 5). (shrink)

Responsibility, Complexity, and Abortion: Toward a New Image of Ethical Thought draws from feminist theory, post-structuralist theory, and complexity theory to develop a new set of ethical concepts for broaching the thinking challenges that attend the experience of unwanted pregnancy. Author Karen Houle does not only argue for these concepts; she enacts a method for working with them, a method that brackets the tendency to take positions and to think that position-taking is what ethical analysis involves. This book thus (...) provides concrete evidence of a theoretically-grounded, compassionate way that people in all walks of life, academic or otherwise, could come to a better understanding of, and more complex relationship to, difficult ethical issues. On the one hand, this is a meta-ethical book about how people can conceive and communicate moral ideas in ways that are more constructive than position-taking; on the other hand, it is also a book about abortion. It testifies from a first-person female perspective about the life-long complexity that attends fertility, sexuality and reproduction. But it does not do so in order to ratify abortion as a woman’s issue or a private matter or as feminist work. Rather, its aim is to excavate the ethical richness of the situation of unwanted pregnancy showing that it connects to everyone, affects everyone, and thus gives everyone something unique and new to think. (shrink)

The aim of the present study was to gain a first-person perspective on the experiences of technology-assisted child sexual abuse (TA-CSA), and a deeper understanding of the way it may affect its victims. Seven young women (aged 17–24) with experience of TA-CSA before the age of 18 participated in individual in-depth interviews. The interviews were teller-focused with the aim of capturing the interviewee’s own story about how they made sense of their experiences over time, and what impact (...) the victimization had on them in the short and long terms. Thematic analysis of the interviews revealed a broad range of abusive experiences that had profoundly impacted the individuals’ lives, health and self-concepts. Three dominant themes emerged from the analysis –From thrilling to abusive,Negative effect on health and wellbeing, andA new self after the abuse.From thrilling to abusivecaptures the wide range of experiences described, starting from the child’s own sexual curiosity to descriptions of having been manipulated or threatened into engaging in sexual activity, as well as the sometimes long and complex process of understanding the severity of one’s experiences.Negative effect on health and wellbeingdescribes the victimization’s comprehensive impact on the life and health of the participants, how they blamed themselves for what had happened, and the struggle of having to live with the constant fear of pictures from the abuse resurfacing.A new self after the abusedepicts how the victimization impacted the way participants viewed and thought about themselves in relation to others, and distorted their views of their bodies. The findings are discussed in relation to previous research on both offline CSA and TA-CSA, as well as theoretical and practical implications. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Response to My ReadersMichael S. Hogue (bio)I. IntroductionI often begin writing for personal reasons: to slow my thinking, clarify and organize my thoughts, trace ideas, and sort concepts. Generally, a concern for something I consider wrong about the world motivates me to write. Provoked by such a concern, I write to understand why and how what is wrong came to be that way and why and (...) how I think it can or should be different. I write in reply to H. Richard Niebuhr's moral hermeneutic question, "What's going on?" And yet, while writing typically begins (for me) as a personal search for understanding, this search eventually leads me to (re) discover my formative communities of inquiry and interpretation. None of my questions or ideas, none of my orienting values, none of my interpretive impulses are mine alone. They do not, and cannot, exist independently of others' questions, ideas, values, and interpretations. To use Peirce's metaphor, they are slender fibers braided into a larger cable rather than independent links in a chain. The issues and questions that motivate my research; the topics I care about enough to develop into articles and books; the conceptual, critical, and normative vocabularies I bring to my research and writing; the intellectual traditions that shape the patterns of my thinking—none of these are strictly personal or individual. They have taken root and grown in me as I've learned with and from others. Writing reminds me that, as a person, I am a creature of relational processes because it shows me that my mind is not (exclusively) my own—what and how I think have been formed, animated, and limited by my experience with others in a larger world of experience that is broader and deeper than any individual mind.I open this brief essay with this comment to acknowledge my gratitude and indebtedness not only to the authors of the articles in this special issue (Walter Gulick, Robert Smid, John Teehan, and AJ Turner) but also to the larger community of scholars that comprise the readership of the American Journal of Theology and Philosophy (AJTP) and the Institute for American Religious and Philosophical Thought (IARPT). I attended my first IARPT (HIARPT, at the time) conference about seventeen years ago, soon after completing my Ph.D. I didn't know anyone personally then, but I knew several folks as authors of articles and books I had read in recent years. I discovered IARPT through the bibliography of Victor Anderson's book, Pragmatic Theology: Negotiating [End Page 80] the Intersections of an American Philosophy of Religion and Public Theology. I resonated with Anderson's articulation of a socially engaged public theology that drew from American pragmatist, historicist, and naturalist philosophies of religion. His mind had been where mine was going, into the dissenting tradition of American immanence, or the left wing of American radical theology, as I refer to it.While reading Anderson's book, I learned that many of the authors in his bibliography met every summer as a (relatively?) organized group of like-minded scholars. I joined them the next chance I had. And as things go with this group, I was immediately recruited to serve as the book review editor for the AJTP! Since that first meeting, I've attended as many IARPT meetings as my schedule allows, organized one of the summer conferences, served as AJTP book review editor for several years, and then served for several more years as the AJTP editor (following Michael Raposa's illustrious term!). Most recently, I was honored when Andrew Irvine and Austin Roberts made American Immanence a focus of the 2021 IARPT conference, "Political Thought and the Powers of Democracy: American Thought in the Anthropocene." Gulick's, Smid's, Teehan's, and Turner's articles began as papers for that conference.All this is to say what I have heard many others say through the years: the IARPT/AJTP community of interpretation has become a primary intellectual (and even spiritual) home for me. I am (and we are) fortunate to belong to a group of academic philosophers and theologians who collectively embody a rare (let us hope not... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 22 (2002) 105-112 [Access article in PDF] A Response to Reflections on Buddhist and Christian Religious Practices Ursula King University of Bristol I appreciate the opportunity to respond to these essays of personal reflections, comparing Buddhist religious practices with some Christian examples. The different essays are rich in detail, engaging and challenging; they explore new vistas but also point to larger horizons that remain to (...) be explored. Each contribution is so different; each can be read in multiple ways, and further questions can be asked about all of them. Although each contributor has chosen a specific focus, a particular way of interpreting Buddhist religious experience and practice, for me a common thread connects them all. The overarching question, implicitly present even when not explicitly formulated, seems to concern what religious and spiritual practices are really all about.What is the nature and content, and even more, what is the purpose of religious practice? Can very different practices be compared across different religious traditions? Is it legitimate to compare Buddhist and Christian religious practices, even when they occur in very different contexts and are undergirded by different histories and systems of thought? Is the purpose of all religious practice always spiritual growth and transformation, or is the ultimate goal (if there is such a goal) utterly different and distinct from all such strivings?There can be no doubt that both external and internal religious practices can be compared at some level, that certain common patterns, shared meanings, and significance, can be discerned in a wide variety of religions. It is these commonalities that phenomenological approaches to the study of religions have extensively explored and classified, but theological, philosophical, and spiritual comparisons are more difficult to delineate. Yet they do exist and have been investigated by many Eastern and Western thinkers. The religious practitioner, who may or may not be a scholar, more often than not remains unaware of the myriad of subtle scholarly distinctions that inhabit a long-trained rational mind. For such a practitioner the strength of spiritual commitment and the practical help in the business of daily living seems to count most when assessing the benefits or otherwise of religious practice. Somehow I find it impossible to capture the ultimate significance of religious practices, whether Buddhist [End Page 105] or Christian, within the limits of ordinary language. We always seem to deal with preliminaries, with passing realities rather than abiding truth and ultimate wisdom. Yet we all know of the paradox that there is no other way to the Ultimate than through the Ordinary. It is through the manifold religious practices, however routine and repetitive, that spiritual experience patiently plots its path and weaves its pattern in order to arrive at some eventual destination or be engraced by the gratuitous joy of sudden transformation.These essays by academic colleagues and friends appealed to my spiritual imagination, and some passages moved me deeply. Their Buddhist insights are enriching and thought-provoking, their references to numerous Christian parallels—whether perceived in meditation, prayer, confession, almsgiving, asceticism, vows, gestures, use of religious texts, or reference to the need for community—sometimes drew my attention to links not seen before, comparisons not encountered earlier. From a Christian perspective I also recognized that some comparisons are only made in passing, so that several comments on Christian religious practices are not as developed as one might expect from an insider's point of view.All religious traditions, not just Buddhism and Christianity, involve movement, process, and transformation. Each faith tradition, grown over so many centuries and practiced in different societies and cultures by so many different individuals, possesses an ocean of riches that none of us can receive fully. There are major directions and patterns, there are mainstream and marginal practices, but no one would be able to follow them all, nor even want to practice them all, and some may even need to be discarded as obsolete or spiritually unhelpful.There exists always an excess of spiritual and ritual resources, an abundance of means whereby to find spiritual advance and fulfillment, just as there... (shrink)

In 2014, Morten Tønnessen and the editors of Biosemiotics initiated the “Biosemiotic Glossary Project” with the scope to clarify the terminology used in biosemiotics. This initiative was designed to actively involve the biosemiotic community, fostering dialogue that would contribute to the theoretical evolution of the field. In this paper, we explore how the term “habit” is defined and applied within biosemiotics, and how it relates to general semiotics and philosophy. In biosemiotics, “habit” refers to the regular, recurring behaviors or patterns (...) that emerge from an organism’s interactions with its environment. This concept, deeply rooted in Charles Sanders Peirce’s philosophy, is understood as an adaptive mechanism where repeated actions lead to the stabilization of organisms or systems. Over time, these repeated actions form patterns that guide future behaviors. Peirce extended this concept beyond organisms, suggesting that habits also structure biological and non-biological phenomena by turning random events into predictable regularities. In biosemiotic theory, habits play a central role in semiosis, the process by which living systems generate and interpret meaning, as they regulate interactions and responses in both evolutionary and adaptive contexts. This notion bridges biological development and semiotic processes, offering a deeper understanding of how organisms establish semiotic relationships with their environments. This paper aims to clarify the role of ‘habit’ in biosemiotic discourse and encourage further discussion within the community to refine its use and implications. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Response to C. Victor Fung and Leonard Tan, “‘Love of All Wisdoms’: Toward A Multiphilosophical Approach To Music Education”Lauren Kapalka RichermeFung and Tan’s arguments regarding the limits of our profession’s longstanding narrow focus on Eurocentric and American philosophical traditions are crucially important, and I think the majority of PMER readers will agree about the need to engage with philosophies written by those from diverse geographic locations and with (...) other forms of contrasting lived experiences. Additionally, this essay contains many thoughtful clarifications, including the importance of local and individualized needs, accruing philosophical wisdoms over time, and ongoing reflexivity. I found the conceptualization of boundaries “as a connecting agent rather than a separation device” particularly intriguing. Moreover, I applaud Fung and Tan for their work outside of this paper; their efforts to translate and extend various Asian philosophical ideas have certainly enriched the graduate philosophy classes that I teach.1 For me, the joy of any philosophical inquiry is the questions and imaginings it incites, and these authors have certainly given me a lot to contemplate. I begin this response with a couple of wonderments and then provide a possible extension of this valuable work. [End Page 185]One of my wonderments regards the relationship between culturally sustaining pedagogy and the proposed multiphilosophical approach. Fung and Tan write, “Ontological and axiological questions regarding the meaning of music in education and in the broader life are still unaddressed” and specifically ask “To what extent should musics of the students’ cultural tradition be customized and incorporated in the curriculum?” Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy or CSP, which is a primary contemporary outgrowth of the multicultural education movement, provides a clear response. Django Paris and H. Sami Alim write that Culturally Responsive Pedagogy:seeks to perpetuate and foster—to sustain—linguistic, literate, and cultural pluralism as part of schooling for positive social transformation. CSP positions dynamic cultural dexterity as a necessary good, and sees the outcome of learning as additive rather than subtractive.... Culturally sustaining pedagogy exists wherever education sustains the lifeways of communities who have been and continue to be damaged and erased through schooling.2Given the similarities between this explanation and Fung and Tan’s description of a multiphilosophical approach, I wonder if they could say more about points of alignment and disagreement. Might their arguments serve as an extension of CSP?Another wonderment I have is: What does a multiphilosophical approach exclude? I’m intrigued by Fung and Tan’s rich metaphor of a Chinese medicine cabinet and find it applicable to an array of philosophies. Yet, equating students to “patients” and a music educator to a “doctor” who “writes a prescription for a patient” is incompatible with some philosophies. For example, such language implies a banking model of education that undermines Brazilian philosopher Paulo Freire’s core tenets.3 Given that no metaphor or philosophical approach can address everything, I wonder if in addition to inclusions, a multiphilosophical approach necessarily relies on certain exclusions. I spend the remainder of this response positing three potential ways that exclusions might extend Fung and Tan’s ideas.First, inclusive approaches such as Fung and Tan’s multiphilosophy necessarily exclude philosophies resistant to openness and varying viewpoints. Philosophies that forward single prescribed educational ends or limited ways of being musical cannot function within a multiphilosphical approach and therefore must be excluded. Moreover, Fung and Tan’s references to democracy and use of Dewey suggest that a main purpose of a multiphilosophical approach is to propagate liberal pluralism. Such thinking aligns with Meira Levinson’s ideas about liberal education. She writes: “liberal citizenship does require certain habits and virtues, and pluralism is rightly restricted to individuals holding conceptions of [End Page 186] the good which are compatible with liberal citizenship.”4 Specifically, Levinson argues that these habits and virtues include respecting the democratic process, paying attention to public issues, and public involvement through voting and other forms of engagement. While I agree with Fung and Tan that “contemporary diverse needs are localized and always evolving,” those needs exist within larger socio-political-economic structures that inevitably rely on certain exclusions. The nature of those exclusions informs how “diverse needs” are understood and addressed... (shrink)

There has been a call for a potentially revolutionary change to our existing understanding of the psychological concept of personal identity. Apparently, people can psychologically represent people, including themselves, as multiple individuals at the same time. Here we ask whether the intransitive judgments found in these studies truly reflect the operation of an intransitive concept of personal identity. We manipulate several factors that arbitrate between transitivity and intransitivity and find most support for transitivity: in contrast to prior work, (...) most participants do not make intransitive judgments when there is any reason to favor one individual over another. People change which single individual they personally identify with, depending on which individual competes more strongly or weakly for identity, rather than identifying with both individuals. Even when two individuals are identical and therefore both entitled to be the same person, we find that people make more transitive judgments once they understand the practical commitments of their responses (Experiment 4), and report not being able to actually imagine two perspectives simultaneously when reasoning about the scenario (Experiment 5). In short, we suggest that while people may make intransitive judgments, these do not reflect that they psychologically represent identity in an intransitive manner. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 12.2 (2004) 181-186 [Access article in PDF] Response to June Boyce-Tillman, "Towards an Ecology of Music Education" Claudia Gluschankof Levinsky College of Education, Israel I begin with two confessions. First, music was not my favorite class at school. I cannot even recall what we did there. It did not at all connect with the powerful, meaningful place that music had in my private (...) life, where I loved to sing with my family, and play and sing in ensembles in classes at a private music school. The private piano lessons were fine, but I found no joy in practicing on my own. Music was for me-and still is-a communal experience, associated with personal choice. School did not, and probably could not, provide that.Second, during a recent marketing meeting at the college where I teach and work, I finally said aloud, "I am not sure that I can market a product in which I don't believe." Being a teacher in overcrowded, resource-poor schools where parents are less involved yet more interfering and being expected to conform to standards and to act more as a producer of school ceremonies and festivals and less as a music educator is not a profession I would recommend entering. Boyce-Tillman's paper offers a model for music education in which the corrective emotional experience, in my own case, becomes a remedial object lesson in the setting of the music classroom and a reason to recommend music school teaching as a rewarding profession.Boyce-Tillman calls us to conceive of music "as intimately related to human society and the environment rather than as a discrete and separated category of knowing." Her position is in tune with Christopher Small's coined term "musicking": The act of musicking establishes in the place where it is happening a set of relationships, and it is in those relationships that the meaning of the act lies. They are to be found not only between those organized sounds which are [End Page 181] conventionally thought of as being the stuff of musical meaning but also between the people who are taking part, in whatever capacity, in the performance; and they model, or stand as metaphor for, ideal relationships as the participants in the performance imagine them to be: relationships between person and person, between individual and society, between humanity and the natural world and perhaps the supernatural world.1The five interlocking areas proposed in Boyce-Tillman's model are present in Small's musicking: the relationships among the sounds parallel the area called Materials; the relationships between people and sounds may parallel the area called Expression, which refers to the personal meaning given to the organized sounds. "In the area of Construction, effectiveness often depends on the right management of repetition and contrast within a particular idiom." Such a particular idiom is part of the style ideal of a particular culture. It is defined in terms of form and content, and expresses some inner quality of the society that produced it. The style ideal can be characterized by different factors (for example, historical period, geographic location, school, manner of performance, individual composer, and so on) and can be examined in terms of musical components (form, texture, harmony, melody).2According to Boyce-Tillman, the area of Values "is related to the context of the music-making experience. All musical experiences are culturally related." Because values are shared by groups, I found this present in the relationships be-tween a subculture and the larger society, in its broader meaning. The fifth area is Spirituality, defined by Boyce-Tillman as "the ability to transport the audience to a different time/space dimension." That different time/space dimension may be understood as the supernatural world, referred to by Small.Small sees the greatest challenge to music educators today to be that of providing "that kind of social context for informal as well as formal musical interaction that leads to real development and to the musicalizing of the society as a whole,"3... (shrink)

The relationship between people and nature is one of the most important current issues of human survival. This circumstance makes it necessary to educate young people who are receptive to global challenges and ready to solve the urgent problems of our time. The purpose of the article is to analyze the experience of the environmental behavior of young people in the metropolis. The authors studied articles and monographs that contain Russian and international experience in the environmental behavior of (...) citizens. The following factors determine people’s behavior: the cognitive capabilities of people who determine the understanding and perception of nature and the value-affective component that determines the attitude towards nature. The next task of the study is surveying young people through an online survey and its analysis. The research was realized in Ekaterinburg, the administrative center of the Sverdlovsk region (Russia). The study of the current ecological situation in Ekaterinburg made it possible to conclude that the environmental problem arises not only and not simply as a problem of environmental pollution and other negative influences of human economic activity. This problem grows into transforming the spontaneous impact of society on nature into a consciously, purposefully, systematically developing harmonious interaction with it. The study results showed that, from the point of view of the youth of Ekaterinburg, the city’s ecological situation is one of the most pressing problems. Despite minor improvements over the past 3–5 years, this problem has not lost relevance, and regional authorities and city residents should be responsible for its solution. Young people know environmental practices, but they often do not apply them systematically. Ecological behavior is encouraged and discussed among friends/acquaintances. The key factors influencing the formation of environmental behavior practices are the mass media and social networks. The most popular social network for obtaining information on ecological practices among young people is Instagram, and the key persons are bloggers. This study did not reveal the influence of the socio-demographic characteristics of young people on the application of eco-behavior practices, which may indicate the need for a survey of a larger sample. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Reinventing the Wheel: A Buddhist Response to the Information AgeMichael C. BarnhartReinventing the Wheel: A Buddhist Response to the Information Age. By Peter D. Hershock. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999. Pp. xi + 308.Perhaps one of the most interesting, paradoxical, and—in Peter Hershock's way of thinking, in Reinventing the Wheel: A Buddhist Response to the Information Age — predictable aspects of the (...) digital "revolution" is the degree to which information technology becomes less a means to an end and more an end in itself. Take, for example, the humble phenomenon of the "techno-bore." Such people, having acquired some new electronic gizmo, spend all their time talking about the thing, especially savoring such conversations with like-minded techno-bores, who go on in equal and endless length about their latest toys. Rather than becoming a tool for organizing one's affairs, the digital assistant becomes one's main affair. Or, consider the case of the Internet. Although the "Web" is supposed to put us in touch with each other, say, by making e-mail possible, we find ourselves either unable to cope with the avalanche of mail that comes over the portal and thus unable to respond to it all (or at all), or we spend much more time on our mail than we ever did, thus making the mail itself a nuisance and consequently much less useful than formerly.Of course, none of this is unique to computers and the digital workplace. The same complaints have been voiced in regard to cars, television (and radio, too), modern medicine, and industrialization—in fact, the whole gamut of innovations that we label "technology." Indeed, although information technology is Hershock's main target, it represents only the perfection of a form that has been developing for some time and which he often refers to with the phrase "technologies of control." That is, cars, televisions, blenders, can openers, and computers are tools that are put to use in order to make our lives easier; they accomplish this purpose by putting some element of the world, some range of things, more directly under our control and, importantly, by limiting our involvement with them as well. We make things more tractable, more subject to our wanting (as distinct, Hershock says, from our desiring, which involves an element of respect for the desired), and thus more an extension of ourselves rather than obdurate and resistant things. For example, insofar as a sledgehammer makes breaking rocks easier, it makes rocks and their sizes and shapes more a function of our will, less a reflection of their nature, and distances us also from the material thing. To touch a rock with one's hands is an entirely different experience, a much more intimate experience than touching it with a hammer. In a curious way, says Hershock, the rock becomes more "iconic." In other words, it becomes more representation—our representation—and less a thing-in-itself. The computer and its screen "icons" simply push this envelope to its logical end, reducing all things to "buttons" that can be pushed at will, as our wants dictate. [End Page 414]The more things become iconic, the more they become an extension of our will. But the more they become an extension of our will, the more they become "us." That is, insofar as I successfully "technologize" my world, the more my world becomes simply a reflection of what I want. The situation is not so different from that of the absolute dictator who purges all dissenting voices from his or her realm. The realm becomes the leader—Stalin's Russia or Hitler's Germany, for example. And as we well know from Orwell, such power corrupts absolutely and completely, corrupts both the ruler and the ruled, reducing citizens and ruler to an infantile level. Two related phenomena attend such a development, Hershock tells us: narcissism and nihilism. We become more narcissistic because we become more obsessed with our wants as a reflection of our world. We become more nihilistic because our world of wants is intrinsically meaningless: it reflects what we want, not why we want it, no larger purpose. In short... (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)

From the publication of _Growing Up Absurd_ in 1960 until his death in 1972, Paul Goodman had the ear of the young radicals of the New Left, pouring forth books and articles on education, technology, decentralization, and of course, the war in Vietnam. Yet Goodman saw himself primarily as an artist rather than a political thinker or sociologist, and many of his books, even during the 1960s, were works of poetry, drama, and fiction. He had also practiced as a psychotherapist (...) and joined with Frederick Perls and Ralph Hefferkine in producing a new synthesis in psychological thought, Gestalt therapy, which has since become an international movement. In an age of specialization, few writers have taken on so braod a range of concerns. _Crazy Hope and Finite Experience_ is the final summing up of the thought and life of a self-described "old-fashioned man of letters." This book brings together for the first time five personal essays, all written near the end of his life, in which Goodman discusses his sense of the world and how he was "in" it, his politics, his spiritual and religious attitude, his sexuality, and his calling as a literary artist. For those already familiar with one or another aspect of his work, Goodman's self-assessment will provide new insight into the credo that underlies his whole career. For those learning about him for the first time, it offers a vivid sense of the man and his perspective. And for psychotherapists - especially Gestalt therapists - the book will fill in the picture of Goodman as a theorist whose work was crucial to the development of a new approach to therapy. (shrink)

The point of departure is the empirical research by Marwijk, Haverkate, Van Royen and The. Starting from qualitative interviews, the act of euthanasia seems to be for the physician problematic and even traumatic, also in countries where euthanasia is a legal option. This emotional contrast-experience is an important locus for the ethical reflection. I will discuss one topic of the conclusion of the research: what is the place, meaning and limit of the moral integrity of the practitioner? In the (...) act of euthanasia, a relation of many years based on trust is often presupposed by the physician in order to legitimate morally his involvement in the act of euthanasia. At the same time, physicians experience an inconsistent relation between their acting and their personal emotional and moral experience. The legal possibility to refuse the involvement in the euthanasia, doesn’t take away the ethical unrest and physicians can experience to leave their patients to fend for themselves. Can the responsibility and the loyalty towards the patient implicate that one passes over his own moral integrity? A one-sided interpretation of the ethics of Levinas could suggest a positive answer to this question. A choice for the concrete goodness happens in the face-to-face relation with the other. The other’s interest and not the own existing values are decisive. This could lead to the suggestion of an absolute presence for the other. The own moral integrity is subordinated towards the ethical responsibility for the other. To this kind of reasoning, we put two questions: Every form of responsibility presupposes a moral integrity. The autonomy and the conscience of the physician is presupposed for taking up the responsibility towards the patient. It cannot be annihilated by the faithfulness and responsibility. The physician is not only responsible for the patient who is asking euthanasia, but also for his other patients. The act of euthanasia has consequences for his moral attitudes towards the third parties. The problem will be elaborated in a discussion with the concept of responsibility as developed by Emmanuel Levinas and Cathérine Chalier. The argument is based on a critical-philosophical reading of some biblical texts. The conclusion is relevant for the evaluation of the moral integrity of the physician as well as for the application of Levinas’ concept of responsibility in the field of biomedical ethics. (shrink)

Controversy has reigned for some time over the biological connection between DNA methylation and cancer. For this reason, the methylation mechanism responsible for increased cancer risk has received greater attention in recent years. Tumor suppressor genes are often hypermethylated resulting in gene silencing. Although some have questioned this interpretation of the link between methylation and cancer, it appears that both hypermethylation and hypomethylation events can create epigenetic changes that can contribute to cancer development. Recent studies have shown that the (...) methyltransferases DNMT1 and DNMT3b cooperatively maintain DNA methylation and gene silencing in human cancer cells. Disruption of the human DNMT3b only slightly reduces the overall global DNA methylation; however, demethylation was markedly potentiated when both DNMT1 and DNMT3b were simultaneously deleted. The results to these experiments provide compelling evidence towards a role for DNA methylation in cancer. This review discusses the current understanding of cancer‐epigenetic information and highlights recent studies that connect the methylation machinery and chromatin remodelling with cancer susceptibility. BioEssays 25:1071–1084, 2003. © 2003 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:An Invitation to Play:A Response to Patrick Schmidt's "What We Hear is Meaning Too:Deconstruction, Dialogue, and Music"Patrice Madura Ward-SteinmanThe aims of dialogue-as-deconstruction, as described by Patrick Schmidt, are concepts I have pondered as a result of a five-week sabbatical visit to Melbourne, Australia. My research focus there was improvisation, and early in my visit I attended two concerts at the premier jazz club, Bennett's Lane. There I heard (...) twelve improvisers in a variety of ensembles, all in celebration of the seventieth birthday of their mentor, Tony Gould, who also performed. Gould is cited by John Whiteoak and Aline Scott-Maxwell as an "outstanding player who has never ceased to develop as an improviser" and who "as a pianist, records prolifically across a wide musical spectrum."1While the music was jazz, it was freer and fresher than usual. There was striking interaction among the musicians, including facial expressions that reflected genuine ecstasy, and body movement that was naturally "in sync" with the music. I began to ask many questions, including: Is Australia's jazz different from that [End Page 82] in the U.S.? Is Tony Gould's influence as a teacher the reason for the difference? What accounts for the sensation of "freshness" in this music? And why is this musical experience so gripping, both aurally and visually? Serendipitously, I discovered answers through the opportunity to respond to Schmidt's aims of dialogue-of-deconstruction. I shall illustrate how those aims, namely decentralized power and conflict, multiplicity and meaning, and mis-listening may be met in the improvising music ensemble.Decentralized Power and ConflictThe lifeblood of "free jazz" and "free improvisation" ensembles is de-centralized musical interaction, which may be considered a metaphor for dialogue-as-deconstruction. Case in point: the Tony Gould Quartet was an improvising unit with each musician contributing to the musical whole. The air was electric with each musician poised in both the anticipation of what the other might play and in the moment of creation.A recent trend in studies of organizational behavior is on "self-directed" or "self-managed" groups, as identified by Keith R. Sawyer.2 David Borgo3 explains that the characteristics of these "self-organizing systems" or "SOSs" are threefold: they operate without centralized control, they "exhibit both complex and adaptive dynamics," and they are comprised of autonomous individuals who demonstrate a high degree of connectivity. Both authors assert that an ideal SOS is the free improvising ensemble, where musical ideas are allowed to emerge and adapt, and even musical "mistakes" may be manipulated into the context, thus creating new directions in dialogue.However, SOSs have some inherent problems. For example, they are "slow to emerge.... The more complex they are, the longer it may take them to warm up: hierarchical layers have to settle down... and individual(s) have to acquaint themselves with one another."4 Borgo explained that even advanced improvisers often need to pursue a musical idea for a long while for it to achieve coherence. Philip Alperson adds: "As the number of designing intelligences increases, the greater is the difficulty in coordinating all the parts; the twin dangers of cacophony and opacity lurk around the corner."5It seems that "interactional synchrony"6 can develop among musicians who have "good chemistry" after a warm-up period, but those with conflicting personalities, aesthetic dispositions, or musical styles may have a more difficult time of it. When members of the Tony Gould Quartet were asked how they are able to achieve musical unity, they explained that they have played together for many years, they "hang out and drink together" when not on the bandstand, and they trust each other. Even when one of the members feels "out of sorts," their improvisations are respected as authentic expressions. Others' differences are honored, [End Page 83] rather than felt in opposition to one's self.7 Ingrid Monson8 quotes several musicians who use the metaphor of marriage to describe the musical relationship during a peak performance; on the other hand, jealousy, competition, and even hostility on the bandstand are not uncommon and can destroy an ensemble. So, it appears... (shrink)

Do experiences with nature –– from wilderness backpacking to plants in a preschool to a wetland lesson on frogs, promote learning? Until recently, claims outstripped evidence on this question. But the field has matured, not only substantiating previously unwarranted claims but deepening our understanding of the cause-and-effect relationship between nature and learning. Hundreds of studies now bear on this question, and converging evidence strongly suggests that experiences of nature boost academic learning, personal development, and environmental stewardship. This brief integrative (...) review summarizes recent advances and the current state of our understanding. The research on personal development and environmental stewardship is compelling although not quantitative. Report after report –– from independent observers as well as participants themselves –– indicate shifts in perseverance, problem-solving, critical thinking, leadership, teamwork, and resilience. Similarly, over fifty studies point to nature playing a key role in the development of pro-environmental behavior, particularly by fostering an emotional connection to nature. In academic contexts, nature-based instruction outperforms traditional instruction. The evidence here is particularly strong, including experimental evidence; evidence across a wide range of samples and instructional approaches; outcomes such as standardized test scores and graduation rates; and evidence for specific explanatory mechanisms and active ingredients. Nature may promote learning by improving learners’ attention, levels of stress, self-discipline, interest, and enjoyment in learning, and physical activity and fitness. Nature also appears to provide a calmer, quieter, safer context for learning; a warmer, more cooperative context for learning; and a combination of “loose parts” and autonomy that fosters developmentally beneficial forms of play. It is time to take nature seriously as a resource for learning — particularly for students not effectively reached by traditional instruction. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Guide to Personal Knowledge: The Philosophy of Michael Polanyi: Tacit Knowledge, Emergence and the Fiduciary Program by Dániel Paksi and Mihály HéderAlessio TartaroPAKSI, Dániel and Mihály Héder. Guide to Personal Knowledge: The Philosophy of Michael Polanyi: Tacit Knowledge, Emergence and the Fiduciary Program. Wilmington, Del.: Vernon Press, 2022. xxiii + 209 pp. Cloth, $65.00Famous for the concept of "tacit knowledge," Polanyi is a figure who looms (...) over twentieth-century philosophy without ever establishing himself as one of its major protagonists. Yet, Polanyi tackled central problems in twentieth-century Western philosophy and offered [End Page 358] insightful and original analyses thereof. In Personal Knowledge, Polanyi articulates ideas about metaphysics, mathematics, evolution, philosophy and sociology of science, epistemology, philosophy of language, political theory, theology, and more. The richness of the contents, but also their deep unity, make Polanyi's work a unique piece in the philosophical landscape of his time, full of fruitful insights that are still relevant nowadays.Guide to Personal Knowledge, written by two of the leading experts on Polanyi's philosophy, deserves the merit of providing an accessible introduction to this complex work. The book is divided into thirteen chapters, each corresponding to the respective chapter of Personal Knowledge. In each chapter, Paksi and Héder clearly explain Polanyi's main ideas, presenting them in the same order as they appear in Personal Knowledge. The chapters are introduced by a "Goals of the chapter" section that provides a series of key points, where the authors summarize Polanyi's objectives in the corresponding chapter of Personal Knowledge.The Guide is interspersed with many direct quotations from Personal Knowledge that allow the reader to link the Guide to the original text. The use of figures and tables illuminates even the most complex concepts, such as "tacit integration" and the difference between "random and ordered systems." The Guide is enriched by twenty-five boxes that provide information on ideas, authors, and concepts directly or indirectly referenced by Polanyi in Personal Knowledge. These boxes are a valuable supplement. In some cases, they offer insight into contemporary events, theories, and scholars to which Polanyi alludes but that he does not elaborate on, for example, about the role of the Michelson-Morley experiments in Einstein's development of the theory of relativity. In other cases, boxes develop a comparison between Polanyi's ideas and related philosophical figures, such as Thomas Kuhn and Samuel Alexander. Thanks to the boxes, the reader gains a richer and more complete view of Polanyi's thought.In the preface, Paksi and Héder preliminarily introduce some key concepts for understanding Polanyi's work, including "objectivity," "trust" and "fiduciary program," "tacit knowledge," "intellectual passions," "deceptive substitution," "moral inversion," "operational principles," "logic of achievement," and "emergence." Their analysis always proves faithful to Polanyi's thought, and the authors show how these concepts are interrelated and constitute the pillars of Personal Knowledge's argumentative structure. Other equally crucial concepts in Polanyi's work, for example, "commitment," "indwelling," "tradition," "conviviality," "anthropogenesis," "ultrabiology," are not introduced in the preface, but they are explored in depth in the respective chapters.The thirteen chapters of the book recapitulate in detail the main thematic segments of Personal Knowledge. The critique of objectivism and positivist views of science is explained and analyzed in chapters 1 to 4. This critique is articulated on several levels. Polanyi first criticizes [End Page 359] objectivism because it attempts to remove the personal element from scientific knowledge in order to pursue ever higher degrees of formalism, neutrality, and impersonality. Polanyi asserts, however, that the personal element is irreducible, and then proceeds to demonstrate how it operates: in the evaluation of probability statements (chapter 2), in the appreciation of ordered patterns (chapter 3), and in the practice of skills (chapter 4). The ineliminability of the personal element shows that objectivism is false. Paksi and Héder brilliantly retrace the train of thought that leads Polanyi to this conclusion.The second theme that runs across Personal Knowledge concerns the tacit foundation of human intellectual abilities and, consequently, of science and society. In chapter 6, the authors follow Polanyi's disparate arguments about animal intelligence, human... (shrink)