The standard foil for recent theories of hope is the belief-desire analysis advocated by Hobbes, Day, Downie, and others. According to this analysis, to hope for S is no more and no less than to desire S while believing S is possible but not certain. Opponents of the belief-desire analysis argue that it fails to capture one or another distinctive feature or function of hope: that hope helps one resist the temptation to despair;2 that hope engages the sophisticated capacities of (...) human agency, such as planning;3 or that hope involves the imagination in ways desire need not.4 Here, I focus on the role of imagination in hope, and discuss its implications for hope’s relation to practical commitment or end-setting. (shrink)

What exactly is hope and how does it influence our decisions? In How We Hope, Adrienne Martin presents a novel account of hope, the motivational resources it presupposes, and its function in our practical lives. She contends that hoping for an outcome means treating certain feelings, plans, and imaginings as justified, and that hope thereby involves sophisticated reflective and conceptual capacities. Martin develops this original perspective on hope--what she calls the "incorporation analysis"--in contrast to the two dominant philosophical conceptions (...) of hope: the orthodox definition, where hoping for an outcome is simply desiring it while thinking it possible, and agent-centered views, where hoping for an outcome is setting oneself to pursue it. In exploring how hope influences our decisions, she establishes that it is not always a positive motivational force and can render us complacent. She also examines the relationship between hope and faith, both religious and secular, and identifies a previously unnoted form of hope: normative or interpersonal hope. When we place normative hope in people, we relate to them as responsible agents and aspire for them to overcome challenges arising from situation or character. Demonstrating that hope merits rigorous philosophical investigation, both in its own right and in virtue of what it reveals about the nature of human emotion and motivation, How We Hope offers an original, sustained look at a largely neglected topic in philosophy. (shrink)

Full-Blooded religion is not acceptable in mainstream bioethics. This article excavates the cultural history that led to the suppression of religion in bioethics. Bioethicists typically fall into one of the following camps. 1) The irreligious, who advocate for suppressing religion, as do Timothy F. Murphy, Sam Harris, and Richard Dawkins. This irreligious camp assumes American Fundamentalist Protestantism is the real substance of all religions. 2) Religious bioethicists, who defend religion by emphasizing its functions and diminishing its metaphysical commitments. Religious defenders (...) empty religion of its theology to present its feel-good functions in a way that is acceptable to the irreligious. However, religion reduced to its functions dissolves into a counter-culture that may counteract materialism but lacks the power to motivate much more. This article criticizes both camps, as both presume Enlightenment myths and consequently neuter religion. Both irreligious and religious bioethicists commonly presume Enlightenment myths about secularity and religion. Secularity is presumed neutral and rational. Religion is presumed divisive and irrational. This myth provides built-in value-judgements; we have already judged secularity as good and religion as bad. Much of the debate over religion in bioethics is arguing over false stereotypes of religion. Consequently, mainstream bioethics neuters religion, while the irreligious are gifted political power to define the field. (shrink)

How do we encourage patients to be hopeful without exploiting their hope? A medical researcher or a pharmaceutical company can take unfair advantage of someone's hope by much subtler means than simply giving misinformation. Hope shapes deliberation, and therefore can make deliberation better or worse, by the deliberator's own standards of deliberation.

The Routledge Handbook of Science and Empire introduces readers to important new research in the field of science and empire. This compilation of inquiry into the inextricably intertwined history of science and empire reframes the field, showing that one could not have grown without the other. The volume expands the history of science through careful attention to connections, exchanges, and networks beyond the scientific institutions of Europe and the United States. These 27 original essays by established scholars and new talent (...) examine: scientific and imperial disciplines, networks of science, scientific practice within empires, and decolonised science. The chapters cover a wide range of disciplines, from anthropology and psychiatry to biology and geology. There is global coverage, with essays about China, Southeast Asia, the Pacific, Australia and New Zealand, India, the Middle East, Russia, the Arctic, and North and South America. Specialised essays cover Jesuit science, natural history collecting, energy systems, and science in UNESCO. With authoritative chapters by leading scholars, this is a guiding resource for all scholars of empire and science. Free of jargon and with clearly written essays, the handbook is a valuable path to further inquiry for any student of the history of science and empire. (shrink)

We are interestingly ambivalent about romantic love, in a number of cases. Consider a man who abuses his wife, but is also passionate about her and easily distraught at the thought of losing her. There is some sense in which he loves her, but another in which he absolutely does not. Consider, too, a longtime partner who feels she has rather suddenly “fallen out of love” with the person to whom she was once devoted. She continues to feel there is (...) some sense in which she loves this person, but another in which she does not. And again, many people seem to both believe in love at first sight and think that the only true lovers are those whose feelings have withstood the tests of time and difficulty. In this paper, I propose that Kant’s conception of human feeling, desire, and motivation provides an unusually compelling account—both of ambiguous cases of romantic love and of love more generally. This proposal is not as shocking as it would have been 30 years ago, but I suspect it is still surprising to many, whom have been persuaded at most that there is room in Kant’s moral theory for feeling to play a positive supportive role in moral motivation; my proposal here is that Kant’s broader vision of human motivation—moral and nonmoral—tightly fits the phenomenon of love and, perhaps, emotions in general. (shrink)

I argue for adopting a conception of obligation that is broader than the conception commonly adopted by moral philosophers. According to this broader conception, the crucial marks of an obligatory action are, first, that the reasons for the obliged party to perform the action include an exclusionary reason and, second, that the obliged party is the appropriate target of blaming reactive attitudes, if they inexcusably fail to perform the obligatory action. An obligation is directed if the exclusionary reason depends on (...) the relationship between the obliged person and the person to whom they owe the obligatory action, and the latter person is positioned to personally blame the obligated person for inexcusably failing to perform the obligatory action. Some direc- ted obligations are not owed as a matter of right, and the person to whom the obligatory action is owed is the only person positioned to blame nonperformance. Other directed obligations are owed as a matter of right, and people who are not part of the relationship grounding the obligation nevertheless are also positioned to (impersonally) blame non-performance. Only the rights-based form of directed obligation has received signifi- cant attention from moral philosophers, yet the former—which is at the heart of what I call “personal bonds”—is a pervasive and significant theme of our ordinary interpersonal lives. (shrink)

Over the last two decades, legal scholarship has been catching up with the more than century old calls by black Americans for reparations.1 Tax scholar Boris Bittker (in)famously launched the viability of black reparations into legal scholarship with his now classic monograph, The Case for Black Reparations.2 However, it would take more than twenty years for mainstream legal scholarship to take up the robust and wide-ranging set of questions raised by the possibility of reparations for American slavery.3 In the late (...) 1990s private law scholars leapt into the debate, discussing unjust enrichment and torts-based models of black reparations.4 While these scholars made a variety of distinct arguments, collectively, their model rested on the contention that America had wrongfully expropriated the labor of generations of enslaved African Americans and the result had been systemic unjust enrichment, or a species of mass torts. Grounded in various conceptions of corrective justice, these models conceive black reparations as a set of claims that would be litigated through the courts. Over the ensuing two decades, the private law model has become somewhat of an outlier in reparations discussions, largely set aside in favor of broader, more explicitly political approaches. (shrink)

This article defends a theory of diffuse attention and distinguishes it from focal attention. My view is motivated by evidence from psychology and neuroscience, which suggests that we can deploy visual selective attention in at least two ways: by focusing on a small number of items, or by diffusing attention over a group of items taken as a whole. I argue that diffuse attention is selective and can be object‐based. It enables a subject to select an object to guide behavior, (...) albeit in a different way than focusing does. (shrink)

Marcella Althaus-Reid proposes the Bi/christ in her sexual reconstruction of theology. Goss examines three representational strategies of the obscene Christ to test the inclusiveness of her model. He applies Judith Butler's notion of gender performativity to the pop star Madonna to suggest an accessorizing of Althaus-Reid's model of the Bi/christ to the Bi/transvestite Christ.

A theory of word meaning developed jointly by Adrienne and Keith Lehrer is summarized, which accommodates the empirical facts of natural languages, especially the diversity of types of words. Reference characterizes the application of words to things, events, properties, etc. and sense the relationship among words and linguistic expressions. Although reference and sense are closely connected, neither can be reduced to the other. We use the metaphor of vectors to show how different, sometimes competing forces interact to provide an (...) understanding of what a word in context means. Topics discussed include vagueness, indeterminacy, the role of experts, possible worlds, pragmatic influences, semantic change, semantic networks, fields, and entailments. A formal theory for understanding the relationship of idiolects, dialects, and communal languages is proposed to account for the dynamic interaction of individuals and communities which occurs continuously. (shrink)

The vocabulary of wine is large and exceptionally vibrant -- from straight-forward descriptive words like "sweet" and "fragrant", colorful metaphors like "ostentatious" and "brash", to the more technical lexicon of biochemistry. The world of wine vocabulary is growing alongside the current popularity of wine itself, particularly as new words are employed by professional wine writers, who not only want to write interesting prose, but avoid repetition and cliche. The question is, what do these words mean? Can they actually reflect the (...) objective characteristics of wine, and can two drinkers really use and understand these words in the same way?In this second edition of Wine and Conversation, linguist Adrienne Lehrer explores whether or not wine drinkers (both novices and experts) can in fact understand wine words in the same way. Her conclusion, based on experimental results, is no. Even though experts do somewhat better than novices in some experiments, they tend to do well only on wines on which they are carefully trained and/or with which they are very familiar. Does this mean that the elaborate language we use to describe wine is essentially a charade? Lehrer shows that although scientific wine writing requires a precise and shared use of language, drinking wine and talking about it in casual, informal setting with friends is different, and the conversational goals include social bonding as well as communicating information about the wine. Lehrer also shows how language innovation and language play, clearly seen in the names of new wines and wineries, as well as wine descriptors, is yet another influence on the burgeoning and sometimes whimsical world of wine vocabulary. (shrink)

The objective of this study was to review the design and delivery of medical ethics education within medical programs across Australia and New Zealand, how current teaching has been informed by the proposed core curriculum published in 2001 by the ATEAM and how it could look moving forward. We conducted a mixed methods study using an online questionnaire consisting of 51 items. This included both binary and open-ended questions to categorise and explore similarities and differences in medical ethics curricula in (...) medical programs accredited by the Australian Medical Council across ANZ. Participants were asked about curriculum design format, duration, goals, assessments, content areas of their own ME curriculum. Convenors from 18 universities responded. The main commonality was that ME curricula were integrated both longitudinally and laterally with other content. There was also commonality in content areas addressed. The goals, format, educators, and assessments of the ME curricula were highly variable. Most respondents described a curriculum which prioritised knowledge and skill development related to ME. Although the core goals of including knowledge, skills, and attitudinal development in ME curricula are still present, there is no uniformity in terms of format, delivery, or assessment across medical programs in ANZ. This is an area for collaborative development. (shrink)

Our goal in this paper is two-fold. First, we aim to clarify two ways in which contemporary Christian bioethicists have erred, on Engelhardt’s account, in their attempts to do bioethics within a distinctively non-Christian idiom, namely, either (1) by rejecting a principal metaethical thesis or (2) by misrepresenting a principal moral-epistemological thesis of natural-law ethics, properly construed. Second, we intend to show not only that Engelhardt can and should endorse the Christian bioethicists’ use of non-Christian moral idioms in the public (...) square but also—perhaps to the surprise both of his critics and of his supporters—that he does, in fact, do so. (shrink)

Rapid advancements in large language models (LLMs) have renewed interest in the question of whether consciousness can arise in an artificial system, like a digital computer. The general consensus is that LLMs are not conscious. This paper evaluates the main arguments against artificial consciousness in LLMs and argues that none of them show what they intend. However strong our intuitions against artificial consciousness are, they currently lack rational support.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:I Had Never Heard Someone Use That Word BeforeAdrienne Feller NovickThe patient was dying. As the social worker, I had arranged the meeting and sat shoulder to shoulder with the family and the attending physician in the small nondescript room. The family was grief-stricken and asked intelligent questions as they made difficult decisions about end-of-life care for their loved one. The doctor spoke with gentle kindness, acknowledging their difficult (...) decision as he completed the neon pink Medical Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment (MOLST) form and left the room. I was tangled up with emotions; I felt relieved that the meeting had gone smoothly, sad for the patient and family, and in awe of the doctor for his ability to lead the difficult conversation. I stayed behind to ask the family if there was anything I could do to help them. [End Page E4]Before I could speak, the patient's wife turned to me and said, "I am so glad that k--- left the room." (Using a derogatory word for a person of the Jewish faith). My brain began processing the statement. I am a Jewish woman. Did I hear that right? Did she say what I think she said? Should I say something? I froze, and time seemed to stop. She was looking at me expectantly, waiting for a response. Her face reminded me of someone waiting for the other person to return a "high five." I was flooded with emotion. A succession of thoughts ran through my head, everything from being rude in response or getting physical. I did neither. I said nothing. I smiled and left the room feeling like I had been gut-punched.I was in denial. I made excuses for the wife; she was stressed. I kept thinking I must not have heard her correctly and that I was overreacting. I continued to work with the family as though nothing had happened until the patient died five days later. I felt ashamed and never told anyone about what happened. I regretted not saying anything. I replayed the conversation in my mind and felt depressed and angry. Inside I felt complicit for not speaking up, but I had no words. I assumed bias in healthcare was rare. I did nothing.Years later, after I completed a patient visit in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), I observed a group of surgical residents doing rounds. The attending welcomed me to join this valuable clinical learning experience. As the group approached the next bed, the patient pointed to one resident and loudly said, "I don't want a doctor who looks like that to come near me." I gasped aloud and froze, waiting to see what would happen next. The attending looked directly at the patient and said calmly, "We are all here to help you. That is not an appropriate thing for you to say." Then, he turned to the resident and nodded, directing them to resume their bedside assessment. The patient mumbled something inaudibly and said nothing.To my astonishment, the doctor acknowledged the microaggression (a microaggression is a statement, action, or incident regarded as discrimination), addressed the issue, respectfully supported the resident, created a safe space for everyone on the healthcare team and resumed quality patient care without missing a beat. He modeled a strategy to address patient bias and taught a valuable skill. This was a learning moment for me. It helped me refocus my past experience and provided me with a useful strategy to address bias in the future.As a member of the medical ethics consultation service, I listen, provide support, and aid in challenging communications. I had the opportunity to model the communication strategy I acquired in the ICU. The medical ethics team was consulted for a patient refusing treatment. The patient was disrespectful to healthcare team members, cursing at nurses and residents, using ethnic slurs, and saying he "would rather die than let one of them touch him. I entered the patient's room with the healthcare team, introduced myself, and explained the reason for my visit. The patient defiantly agreed he had used slurs, saying he wanted to go home. I continued, everyone here... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:I Saw My ReflectionAdrienne Feller NovickI saw my reflection as I looked through the window of the isolation room. The image caused me to pause and look again. The reflection of sunlight had merged my image and the patient's together. For a moment, we seemed to be one person.She was pale with translucent skin, her bald head obscured under a colorful scarf. Her three children sat as still as (...) statues, staring at their mother wordlessly. Then, I realized her children appeared to be the same ages as my children. I felt a surge of emotions jumbled together, a mother should not die like this, leaving her young children motherless. She and I shared the exact same birthday; it could have been me in that hospital bed. However, I did not have a terminal diagnosis and my children were safe at home, complaining about doing homework. In the blink of an eye, without even recognizing what had just happened, I was face to face with my mortality.I tampered my emotions and held them back. I collected myself, and remembered the reason I was there. My professionalism took charge. I am a member of the Medical Ethics consultation service at a large healthcare system. A request was made to help with the ethical dilemma of a patient with a grave prognosis unwilling to discuss a hospice referral. The dilemma here represented two issues in conflict: patient autonomy and provider beneficence versus non-maleficence. Respect for autonomy allows each person the right to make informed decisions about their care that respect their values and personal beliefs. Provider beneficence is balanced by non-maleficence: beneficence is the expectation that physicians make treatment decisions in the best interest of the patient and non-maleficence guides physicians to minimize harm. This case called for analyzing the balance of autonomy with proportionality, weighing the risks versus the benefits of treatment decisions.I knocked on the door and they all turned and looked in my direction. The patient signaled me to enter. Although she was smiling, the sadness in the room was palpable. I introduced myself to the patient and her children and diplomatically explained the reason for my visit. I turned to the children and asked if there was anything I could get for them. I got three weak "no thanks." I asked the patient if I could stop by later. Then, I went to see my next patient. When I returned, I listened with rapt attention as she described the mosaic of her life story. When she finished, we sat together for a long time, neither of us speaking. Out of the blue, she told me she was not afraid of dying. She said she would welcome death to end her pain. She continued, explaining that her fear was that her children were not ready to accept her death. She was worried about how her death would hurt them, and all she wanted to do was to protect them. She reiterated her wish to be kept alive with all aggressive medical treatment possible. She communicated [End Page E6] that she understood and appreciated the severity of her condition. Her reason for continuing treatment was to give her children precious time. She said, "I would lie in front of a car to protect my children." As I was heading towards the door, her eyes welled up with tears. She thanked me for listening and for my kindness. We said our goodbyes. She remained full code and died four days later during cardiopulmonary resuscitation. I walked past her empty room later that day and kept walking.I was not prepared for how her death changed me. Throughout my career as a healthcare professional, I have primarily worked with patients at the end of their lives. I have seen many empty rooms following the death of a patient and helped countless people journey through their stages of grief towards acceptance. After I complete a consultation, I move on to the next patient. I do this every day. This time, something was different. After she died, I was not sleeping well, I had a hard time concentrating, I was not eating well, and I was... (shrink)

What should we make of someone whose beliefs prevent her from accurately understanding her medical needs and care? Should that person still make her own health care decisions? In fact, she probably lacks decision‐making capacity. But that does not mean she is not competent.

Ce bref texte en forme de manifeste rappelle que les mouvements de transformation sociale dirigés vers davantage de justice sont d’autant plus forts que leurs membres reconnaissent avec lucidité et compassion leurs propres implications dans les mécanismes générateurs de violences. Plutôt que des gestes de condamnation et d’annulation ( cancel ), ce sont donc des attitudes d’écoute, de soutien et de solidarité active qui sont requis.

At the outset of World War I - the "Great War" - Freud supported the Austro-Hungarian Empire for which his sons fought. But the cruel truths of that bloody conflict, wrought on the psyches as much as the bodies of the soldiers returning from the battlefield, caused him to rethink his stance and subsequently affected his theory: Psychoanalysis, a healing science, could tell us much about both the drive for war and the ways to undo the trauma that war inherently (...) breeds, but its principles could just as easily serve the enemy's desires to inculcate its own brand of "truth." Even a century later, psychoanalysis can still be used as much for the justifications of warfare and propaganda as it is for the defiance of and resistance to those same things. But it is in the investigation of the motives and methods behind these uses that psychoanalysis proves its greatest strength. To wit, this edited collection presents published and unpublished material by analysts, writers, and activists who have worked at the front lines of psychic life and war from various stances. Set at a point of tension and contradiction, they illustrate the paradoxical relation of psychoanalysis as both a site of resistance and healing and a necessary aspect of warmaking, propaganda, and militarism. In doing so, we venture from the home front - from the trauma of returning veterans to the APA's own complicity in CIA "black sites" - across international borders - from the treatment of women in Latin American dictatorships to the resistance to occupation in Palestine, from mind control to an ethics of responsibility. Throughout, a psychoanalytic sensibility deconstructs the very opposition that it inhabits, and seeks to reestablish psychoanalysis as the healing discipline it was conceived to be. (shrink)

_Ghosts in the Consulting Room: Echoes of Trauma in Psychoanalysis_ is the first of two volumes that delves into the overwhelming, often unmetabolizable feelings related to mourning. The book uses clinical examples of people living in a state of liminality or ongoing melancholia. The authors reflect on the challenges of learning to move forward and embrace life over time, while acknowledging, witnessing and working through the emotional scars of the past. Bringing together a collection of clinical and theoretical papers, _Ghosts (...) in the Consulting Room _features accounts of the unpredictable effects of trauma that emerge within clinical work, often unexpectedly, in ways that surprise both patient and therapist. In the book, distinguished psychoanalysts examine how to work with a variety of ‘ghosts’, as they manifest in transference and countertransference, in work with children and adults, in institutional settings and even in the very founders and foundations of the field of psychoanalysis itself. They explore the dilemma of how to process loss when it is unspeakable and unknowable, often manifesting in silence or gaps in knowledge, and living in strange relations to time and space. This book will be of interest to psychotherapists and psychoanalysts, as well as social workers, family therapists, psychologists, and psychiatrists. It will appeal to those specializing in bereavement and trauma and, on a broader level, to sociologists and historians interested in understanding means of coping with loss and grief on both an individual and larger scale basis. (shrink)

ABSTRACTThe standard view in philosophy of mind is that the way to understand the difference between perception and misperception is in terms of accuracy. On this view, perception is accurate while...

Dehumanisation is a puzzling phenomenon. Nazi propaganda likened the Jews to rats, but also portrayed them as ‘poisoners of culture’. In the Soviet Union, the Stalinist regime called opponents vermin, yet put them on show trials. During the Rwandan genocide, the Hutus identified the Tutsis with cockroaches, but nonetheless raped Tutsi women. These examples reveal tensions in the way in which dehumanisers perceive, portray and treat victims. Dehumanisation seems to require that perpetrators both deny and acknowledge the humanity of their (...) victims in certain ways. Several scholars have proposed solutions to this so-called ‘paradox of dehumanisation’ that question the usefulness of dehumanisation as a concept to explain genocidal violence, claim that dehumanisation is characterised by an unstable belief in the non-human essence of the dehumanised, or contend that dehumanisation revolves around a denial of metaphysical human status. The main aim of this article is to present a novel framework for theorising dehumanisation that offers a more straightforward solution to this paradox based on the idea that perpetrators deny their victims’ human standing in a moral sense without necessarily negating their biological human status or human subjectivity. The article illustrates this framework through examples drawn from Primo Levi’s memoirs of Auschwitz. (shrink)

It is a commonplace in both the popular imagination and the philosophical literature that hope has a special kind of motivational force. This commonplace underwrites the conviction that hope alone is capable of bolstering us in despairinducing circumstances, as well as the strategy of appealing to hope in the political realm. In section 1, I argue that, to the contrary, hope’s motivational essence is not special or unique—it is simply that of an endorsed desire. The commonplace is not entirely mistaken, (...) however, because standard ways of expressing hope do have motivational influence that is different in kind from that of desire. In sections 2 through 4, I examine one of these ways of expressing hope, fantasizing, and argue that fantasies can present us with reasons to modify our goals and projects in multiple ways. (shrink)

The increasing use of opioid treatment agreements has prompted debate within the medical community about ethical challenges with respect to their implementation. The focus of debate is usually on the efficacy of OTAs at reducing opioid misuse, how OTAs may undermine trust between physicians and patients and the potential coercive nature of requiring patients to sign such agreements as a condition for receiving pain care. An important consideration missing from these conversations is the potential for racial bias in the current (...) way that OTAs are incorporated into clinical practice and in the amount of physician discretion that current opioid guidelines support. While the use of OTAs has become mandatory in some states for certain classes of patients, physicians are still afforded great leeway in how these OTAs are implemented in clinical practice and how their terms should be enforced. This paper uses the guidelines provided for OTA implementation by the states of Indiana and Pennsylvania as case studies in order to argue that giving physicians certain kinds of discretion may exacerbate racial health disparities. This problem cannot simply be addressed by minimising physician discretion in general, but rather by providing mechanisms to hold physicians accountable for how they treat patients on long-term opioid therapy to ensure that such treatment is equitable. There are no data in this work. (shrink)

George Lakoff (2016) discusses how emotion metaphors reflect the discrete bodily states associated with each emotion. The analysis raises questions about the context for and frequency of use of emotion metaphors and, indeed, emotion labels (e.g., “angry”), per se. An assumption implicit to most theories of emotion is that emotion language is just another channel through which people express ongoing emotion states. Drawing from recent evidence that labeling ongoing emotions reduces their intensity, we propose that a primary function of emotion (...) language is regulatory rather than expressive. (shrink)