Summary This paper traces a mutually reinforcing set of arguments about the practice of history in the work of J. G. A. Pocock and Paul Ricoeur that responds to challenges posed to the autonomy of selves and their communities raised by both thinkers. It begins with their respective views on language, texts and actions, moves to the construction of narrative and historiography, and concludes with their account of selves and the communities to which they belong. Corresponding to (...) these three considerations are a set of conclusions drawn with different emphases: first, that both texts and acts are potentially open to indefinite and plural interpretations; second, that narrative and historiography are constitutively contested modes of critical discourse continually open to the construction of new meaning; and third, that the contested, capable, narrative self, and the community to which that mediated self belongs, exercises autonomy as an active, responsible, reflective citizen and/or critical historian. It concludes from this study that the limited openness of language, narrative and identity constitutes the promise and risk of history as a contested and affective representation. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 33.1 (2000) 59-73 [Access article in PDF] Thomas Hobbes: Telling the Story of the Science of Politics Anat Biletzki Science and storytelling First, the traditional commonplaces: Science does not tell stories. Disciplines purporting to be sciences eschew their storytelling aspects in favor of axiomatic, deductive, demonstrative, or whatnot essentials of science. Those deeming the story itself essential give up (happily or less (...) willingly) the label of science and locate themselves under other institutionalized labels such as Humanities. 1 Then there are the disciplines that wobble on the fence, desiring, for various reasons that are more readily analyzed by historical sociologists, the epithet of Science, yet not always achieving such recognition. Chief players in this game are history, psychology, sociology, anthropology, and political science. And if my rendition of this conflict between pretensions and performance seem blatantly pejorative, let me rephrase it: their own practitioners--historians, psychologists, sociologists, anthropologists, and political scientists--believe the issue of their scientific status a problem of no small import. It is, indeed, the question "Are we a science?" that figures in the most fundamental debates concerning the purpose, essence, and methodology of these disciplines.By use of a case study, I will try to support a seemingly conciliatory thesis: social sciences are, by definition and therefore of necessity, on the fence. On one side of the fence lies Science, the monolithic framework that enslaves its method to a grand purpose--knowledge of reality. On the other lies Humanism, a far less easily defined area about which I would hesitate to use the word framework, but through which one meets a no-less-grandiose focus--knowledge of the human. Why then does it seem natural to foster storytelling on the humanistic side of the fence? Or, alternatively, one can ask about the "why not" of narrative in the sciences.Narrative is storytelling; and stories are about heroes; and heroes conduct their actions in a place through a time. So these three building blocks-- [End Page 59] hero, time, and place--point to a pattern of knowledge that, it seems obvious, cannot, and definitely should not, belong to science in its idealized form. There is, of course, a stronger thesis deriving from the intricacies in (post?)modern discussions: that even the exact and natural sciences use narrative while still remaining sciences. This idea--that science does countenance narrative and, indeed, may even use it beneficially--thereby becomes forceful, since science, with its universalistic airs, pretends to ignore heroes in specific times and places.What of the social sciences? Their claim to science is based on that same universalistic end coupled with an attempt to develop a methodology to fit that end. The rub lies in the subject matter of the social sciences, the human being and society. A strictly positivistic view of such subject matter, or even a generally scientific one, must abstract from any and all "humanistic" traits of the human being and society and objectively treat them on a par with any other "neutral" (some might say, even material) object of research. My weak thesis merely claims that such abstraction is inherently impossible and, furthermore, that an attempt at such abstraction waylays the ultimate end of these "sciences." 2 Yet, such a thesis must contribute more than it eliminates. If the social sciences cannot live up to the original scientific ideal of one side of the fence, and if their product can be valued as more than (or at least different from) a mere story on the other side, a more fruitful characterization than just "sitting on the fence" is called for. It is here that narrative makes its essential contribution: narrative is that pattern of knowledge which can encompass the social sciences, given their necessary turn to the human being. Looked at from the receiving end, the social sciences have no option but to turn to narrative in order to buttress their scientific ideal of explanation. The phenomena they claim to explain are human and social phenomena and, as such, cannot be distanced from narrative. 3I shall try to illustrate my... (shrink)

This paper applies Paul Grobstein's theory of science as story telling and story revising to history. The purpose of drawing such links is to show that in our current age when disciplinary borders are becoming increasingly blurred, what may be effective research practice for one discipline, may have some useful insights for another. It argues that what Grobstein advocates for science makes just as much sense for history and that historians have long recognised in their own (...) discipline many of the points Grobstein raises. It examines the changing role of stories dependant upon their cultural context and the emergence of global stories due to advances in technology. Such advances also challenge traditional methods of telling the story. It suggests that we may be entering a period which demands a new discourse on the relationship between human knowledge, understanding, and culture. (shrink)

In the beginning, there was Dava Sobel and Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time . Others followed, in a veritable flood which D. P. Miller recently dubbed the ‘Sobel Effect’. Academic historians of science have been concerned by this flood, partly because people other than them are making money out of ‘their’ subject, but also because of the ways it might affect the public perception of the (...) history of science. Like the scientists they study, historians fear that popularizers will distort in the process of simplifying. But, knowing how difficult it has been for scientists to control the popularization of their subject, historians may not expect a great deal more success. (shrink)

Richard Kirkendall's collection of essays, The Organization of American Historians and the Writing and Teaching of American History, examines the history of the Organization of American Historians from its founding to the present, using that history to illuminate how the writing of American history has changed over the last hundred years. The book provides coverage of all the major dimensions of the Mississippi Valley Historical Association's and the OAH's activities, ranging from the work of its scholarly publications, the (...) Mississippi Historical Valley Review and the Journal of American History, to its role in promoting the teaching of American history. Overall, the essays in the volume tell a story of the organization's progress toward greater inclusion and democracy, falling prey to a Whig interpretation of historiography. In doing so, the book is part of a larger tendency in the way that historians have approached historiography, which in turn reflects their ambivalence about their relationship to the historical process. Thus, even as the very enterprise of historiography is premised on the recognition of how historians are themselves the products of the historical process, historians have revealed the limits to that recognition in their approach to the subject. This essay shows how deeply rooted this duality has been in the study of American historiography and illuminates some of its sources by placing Kirkendall's book in the context of how the MVHA and the OAH have treated historiography over the course of the organization's history. (shrink)

We’ve been led to believe that museums are temples of knowledge. The historical ideal of the European museum has been to improve us morally by educating us about the globe’s myriad different cultures, creative practices, and belief systems. We’re taught that museum spaces are neutral: that they represent the world from an ‘objective’ point of view. But we have been lied to.As art historian Alice Procter shows in this incisive book, Western museums fall devastatingly far from this ideal. They do (...) not merely represent the harms done by colonialist forces; they perpetuate them. Museums tell us stories about their objects on display—many stolen from their original homes—and push narratives which, often subtly, express harmful ideologies about cultures ‘discovered’ in the Age of Imperialism. As viewers, our perception is narrowed and moulded while the voices of the displayed marginalized identities are silenced.Procter takes us on one of her ‘Uncomfortable Art Tours’, guiding us through four types of museum, presenting a selection of objects ranging from a Gweagal Shield to art performances of human zoos, each with their own sobering story. Procter sensitively reveals the histories and meanings behind these pieces, which are often obscured or overlooked, to highlight the imperial and colonial reality of our art collections. Part 1 opens with the ‘Palace’; spaces which functioned as homages to a collector’s taste, often an aristocrat or royal, who displayed their private collections in an attempt to shape the taste of elite audiences. Part 2 takes us to the ‘Classroom’, a didactic space which sees the origin of categorization—taxonomy sinisterly extended to notions of race, pre-empting nineteenth-century eugenics. Part 3 presents the solemn ‘Memorial’ space, a site for remembrance and display of human remains. Part 4 closes with the ‘Playground’, a self-reflexive space of activism and social art, which challenges the museum institution itself. (shrink)

This book is about the work of 10 great scientists; who they were and are, their personal background and how they achieved their outstanding results and took their prominent place in science history. We follow one of physics and science history's most enigmatic phenomena, superconductivity, through 100 years, from its discovery in 1911 to the present, not as a history book in the usual sense, but through close ups of the leading characters and their role in (...) that story, the Nobel laureates, who were still among us in the years 2001-2004 when the main round of interviews was carried out. Since then two of them already passed away. For each one of the 10 laureates, the author tells their story by direct quotation from interviews in their own words. Each chapter treats one laureate. The author first gives a brief account of the laureates' scientific background and main contribution. Then each laureate tells his own story in his own words. This book is unique in its approach to science history. (shrink)

This paper investigates the ethical challenges facing managers in Western Australia. It identifies the ethical issues that managers confront in international business. Managers in this research have identified a number of significant ethical issues when discussing the ethical incidents that occurred in their international dealings. The research shows a degree of congruence between managers'' experiences and establishes the main ethical dilemmas encountered, how they felt and actions taken when confronted with an ethical dilemma.

Republics of Knowledge tells the story of how the circulation of knowledge shaped the formation of nation-states in Latin America, and particularly in Argentina, Peru and Chile, during the century after Iberian rule was defeated in the 1820s. Most immediately, the author has sought to provide a cross-disciplinary approach to the history of knowledge, combining the methods of global intellectual history with a new way of thinking about nations as experienced and enacted as well as how they are imagined, (...) and in so doing offer a new interpretation of the history of independent Latin America to illustrate its wider significance in the making of the modern world. By bringing these lines of inquiry together within a transnational framework, Nicola Miller shows how evidence from the pioneering nations of Latin America can invite historians to rethink many of their general theories about how knowledge travels and how a sense of nationhood is created. The book is designed to stimulate debate about the significance of knowledge not only in Latin America but in all modern societies. As Miller explains, Latin America is usually regarded as an exception to general theories, notably of colonialism, nationalism and liberalism; and yet it was in that part of the world, not in Europe, that the Age of Revolution brought the founding of a second wave of modern republics, and it was in Latin America that pioneering attempts were made to apply liberal principles in societies with inherited caste divisions and corporate institutions. It was there that some of the richest debates about the vexed relationship between collective identities and individualism took place. (shrink)

This article identifies and analyses the dominant stories that academics tell about the development of Western second wave feminist theory. Through an examination of recent production of interdisciplinary feminist and cultural theory journals, I suggest that despite a rhetorical insistence on multiple feminisms, Western feminist trajectories emerge as startlingly singular. In particular, I am critical of an insistent narrative that sees the development of feminist thought as a relentless march of progress or loss. This dominant approach oversimplifies the complex (...) history of Western feminisms, fixes writers and perspectives within a particular decade, and repeatedly (and erroneously) positions poststructuralist feminists as ‘the first’ to challenge the category ‘woman’ as the subject and object of feminist knowledge. Rather than provide a corrective history of Western feminist theory, the article interrogates the techniques through which this dominant story is secured, despite the fact that we (feminist theorists) know better. My focus, therefore, is on citation patterns, discursive framings and some of their textual, theoretical and political effects. As an alternative, I suggest a realignment of key theorists purported to provide a critical break in feminist theory with their feminist citational traces, to force a concomitant re-imagining of our historical legacy and our place within it. (shrink)

Recently, a beekeeper discovered the metabolic wizardry of wax worms, their ability to decompose polyethylene. While this organism has usually been perceived as a model organism in science or a pest to beekeepers, it acquired a new mode of being as potentially probiotic, inviting us to dream of a future without plastic waste. In this paper, I explore how wax worms are entangled with material practices of care and narratives that give meaning to these practices. These stories, however, are (...) marked by manipulation, exploitation, and extermination, and call for a questioning of our modes of caring. Consequently, I offer a counter-narrative that questions our anthropocentric practices of caring and the stories we attach to them. Borrowing Puig de la Bellacasa’s notion of ecopoetics, I tell another story based on my participation in the making of an art installation hosting wax worms. The installation creates an opening of a world of curiosity and cultivates a sensibility for wax worms expanding their modes of being and our capabilities of appreciation. In the end, I argue that by mattering and storying differently, we have the opportunity to challenge anthropocentric interests and make a different world of caring and co-existence possible. (shrink)

Professor Gallie of Queen’s University, Belfast takes his history seriously, in the spirit of R G Collingwood, and like Collingwood, he gives the impression of knowing what the historian is about. He inspires confidence by reference to a wide range of historical writing, instead of the one or two faded examples which tend to turn up again and again in books on the philosophy of history. Gallie’s primary purpose may be seen as a blow against the kind of systematised history (...) which Marxism stands for. He is opposed to this and to all sociological approaches to history because they misrepresent the nature of the task which confronts the historian. For Gallie, history is essentially narrative. Narrative is indeed too weak a word. In Gallie’s view, the historian tells a story. Our attention is held because the element of the unexpected is always present as it is in a story. A rational predictable construction of a Marxist type is ruled out because of the multiplicity of contingent events round which history revolves. History for this reason is distinct from science. The historian, in Gallie’s view, is not concerned with events in so far as they are specific instances of general laws. The scientist who ignores history, however, does so at his peril. Men who assume that scientific progress is inevitable and regard history as irrelevant are disregarding the fact that scientific development has taken place in some societies but not in others. Gallie’s pages on this topic are among the most illuminating in the book. Where he is perhaps open to criticism is in pressing the analogy of history to story telling too far. It may be argued that what the historian is after is surprise. He is trying to show us that the past is not as we thought it was but different. This may be achieved in ways other than story telling. For example, the sociologist or anthropologist may teach us to look at the past in a new light. Place medieval England and twentieth century Africa in juxtaposition and handy dandy, which is the justiciar and which is the thief? This method of illuminating the past is analogous to putting two photographs together or two caricatures. Whatever it is, it cannot be described as story telling. If we regard surprise as our criterion, we may also rule out both the plodding story tellers, who bore us with banalities, and the Namierites who are equally predictable in their own sphere. In a word, we will banish the bores from history. Professor Gallie in this entertaining book may be said to have banished boredom from his own pages. He is an example to philosophers and historians alike. (shrink)

Over the last fifty years there has been much discussion about the value of narrative in the production of historical knowledge whereby it is generally assumed that “narrative” is a given and that the only thing at issue is its epistemological value. This article critically examines this assumption. It shows how conceptions of “narrative” have mutated in response to changes in cultural practice and, as importantly, how they have been implicitly modeled on the particular medium envisaged for telling stories: the (...) stand-alone monograph. The belief that history's natural form is a book written by an individual historian has thus informed most discussions of narrative in the twentieth century, meaning that the primacy of language, the autonomy of the author, and the finished, self-contained character of the work have been taken for granted. The “naturalness” of the stand-alone monograph can no longer be taken as a given, however, in the new media ecologies. Digitization and the internet offer new technologies for producing and disseminating historical knowledge and, in the process, present both opportunities and challenges to professional historians. Beyond their practical implications, the digital media also provide a new theoretical model for viewing historical narrative in terms of its social production by multiple agents across different platforms, and this changes our understanding both of past and of future practices. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Trial of Cn. Piso in Tacitus’ Annals and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre: New Light on Narrative TechniqueCynthia DamonIn writing the narrative of Germanicus’ death and Piso’s trial in Annals 2 and 3 Tacitus produced, in the estimation of two distinguished and perceptive Taciteans, “a text of unresolved ambiguity.” For Woodman and Martin, Tacitus’ achievement is the more striking when contrasted with the “monotonous confidence” of (...) the Senate’s resolutions in the aftermath of the trial, now available in the recently published Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre. 1 Woodman and Martin worked with this document even before its publication and use it to good effect in their commentary. The present essay treats a subject not easily addressed in the commentary format and beyond the purview of the document’s first (1996) editors, namely, Tacitus’ narrative technique.For his history of this episode Tacitus uses the common and effective narrative structure in which a scene is replayed, sometimes called a mirror story: Piso’s trial in Annals 3 contains the second telling of part of a story presented more fully in book 2, the story of Piso’s eastern command and the death of Germanicus. Mirror stories are found in all ancient narrative genres and accomplish a variety of narrative tasks; here the structure conveys the historian’s verdict on the trial. With the SCPP now available we can see with unusual precision how Tacitus selects, suppresses, and deploys material in order to present his case. I argue that in book 2 he offers an account of what really happened (as he reconstructs it, anyway), then in book 3 shows how this “truth” was obscured by a haze of rumor and suspicion in a world driven by obsequiousness and dissimulation. [End Page 143]Mirror StoriesMirror stories, like so much else in ancient historical writing, go back to the Homeric epics. In the Iliad and the Odyssey most mirror stories occur in direct speech: a character will repeat material already reported by the narrator, adapting it to his or her emotional state and rhetorical purpose. 2 Thus Thetis, for example, giving Hephaestus an account of the events that caused the loss of Achilles’ armor, “simplifies” the story given in the narrative so as to heighten her son’s role and strengthen the case for her own request (Il. 18.444–56). 3 The structure serves to distinguish among the epic’s various narrative levels, particularly between narrator-narrative and character-narrative.In novels mirror stories are no longer confined to direct speech. A single example will illustrate how the structure’s mechanics developed. One of several mirror stories in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses is Lucius’ trial for the murder of what he had taken to be a band of robbers (2.32–3.6). The trial culminates in a display of the victims: the cloth covering their bodies is swept away, only to reveal, not bloody corpses but wineskins that had been punctured by Lucius’ sword and stained red by their contents. There were no real victims and Lucius was not guilty of murder; the trial was in fact a farce devised in honor of the god Risus, whose annual festival was being celebrated that day. The spectators at the trial knew what was going on the whole time, but the stranger Lucius did not. Nor (and this is the important point) did Apuleius’ readers, for the fight scene was focalized through Lucius’ eyes. The trial becomes a dramatic revelation of Lucius’ vain and drunken misperceptions: the opponents in what Lucius saw as a heroic action were only some wineskins that had been left lying outside his host’s door. By telling the story twice, once through Lucius’ eyes, and once in the glare of a public trial, Apuleius re-enacts Lucius’ discovery of his own clouded vision for the reader. Of course Lucius is the narrator of the Metamorphoses and knows perfectly well when he tells the story of the “battle” what was really going on, but he allows the reader to have the same eye-opening experience that he himself had had. And in fact Lucius’ eyes are still only half open, as the... (shrink)

Historians are showing increasing interest in scientific internationalism, the notion that science transcends national differences and hence advances peace and cooperation. This notion became particularly popular in the decades around 1900, the heyday of the universal expositions and the so-called first era of globalization. In this article I argue that in order to properly historicize scientific internationalism, it is imperative to understand how actors imagined science to have pacifist effects, and to relate their technoscientific to their geopolitical (...) imaginaries. To illustrate this, I analyze the 1911 novel Der Menschheit Hochgedanken (translated as When Thoughts Will Soar) by the famous Austrian pacifist Baroness Bertha von Suttner. It tells the story of a scientific conference whose participants, by the sheer brilliance of their thought, ward off war and preserve world peace. Relating the novel to von Suttner’s own life experiences, I situate her internationalism in the social texture and international relations of the late Habsburg Empire. It appears that Von Suttner mobilized notions of the pacific effects of science with an eye to preserving both the European system of states and the position of the aristocracy. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Who Tells the StoryCindy BitterThirty years later, I do not remember her name, but I definitely remember her face, and this is how I remember her story.She came into the office for her flu shot. She was in her 70s and had a mild case of COPD attributed [End Page 87] to years of exposure to pesticides on the family farm. She said she was trying to stay (...) healthy, as the grandkids were due for a visit, and everyone had gotten a cold after Thanksgiving the year before. I was a sub-intern doing a required rural medicine rotation and diligently did an exam, finding asymptomatic new-onset atrial fibrillation of uncertain duration. We admitted her to the hospital and started anticoagulation. My attending also ordered a calcium channel blocker to slow her pulse, which was running 90–100 while she was at rest. The attending insisted that it would convert her back to sinus rhythm. The nurses were not experienced with the medication and were uncomfortable giving it. I was pretty sure the calcium channel blocker was not indicated, and a quick check of my pocket manual confirmed the drug would lower her heart rate and maybe her blood pressure but that it would not fix the abnormal rhythm. I refused to administer it. The attending came in, pushed the medication, and returned home. A few minutes later, the patient was struggling to speak. Her pulse fell to in the 30s, and her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low. I asked for the crash cart and calcium, and my attending, then started CPR when she lost her pulse. Half an hour later, my attending called her time of death.Hers was not the first death I'd witnessed, but it was the first time I felt like my patient would have been better off without our interventions. As a medical student hundreds of miles from the main hospital campus, I felt powerless to contradict the attending, and did not know where to turn for support in the moment. I rationalized it by saying that I had not actively contributed to her death by pushing the medication, but I held myself morally culpable for doing the exam and finding an asymptomatic abnormality that started her down that path. I felt I should have known the pathophysiology and medication side effects better, or been more assertive, or called for help.One could argue whether I was suffering from a grief reaction or falling into depression, but I questioned my calling to medicine and seriously considered leaving the field. But I was quite certain that I did not want another patient to be put at risk, or a student to feel cornered into taking actions against their better judgment. After returning to the main hospital, I met with the clerkship director and helped develop a pathway for students to raise safety concerns in real-time. Now I recognize the feeling I experienced as moral injury, but we weren't using that term at the time, or talking about Six Sigma safety, or stopping the line.Ultimately, I continued through medical school and trained as an emergency physician. My prior reverence for my attendings moderated to a healthier respect that had to be earned. I read voraciously, trying to prepare myself for unexpected situations. I became an advocate for patient safety and was an early adopter of shared decision-making. I strive to be a physician who welcomes questions and respects the concerns of all team members. Many of the principles that ground my career in medicine grew out of my exposure to this patient.It was always my least favorite of the tropes common to television medical dramas—the circumstances of the patient-of-the-week illuminated some aspect of our main characters' lives, providing a very important life lesson. I felt it positioned patients to be in service of the physician's aims, using patients as a means to our ends, when we should be using our knowledge and experience to further the patient's goals. Very un-Kantian, in addition to transgressing against multiple other philosophers and medical ethicists. As medicine learns more about the power of... (shrink)

Many factors determine whether and when a class of therapeutic agents will be successfully developed and brought to market, and historians of science, entrepreneurs, drug developers, and clinicians should be interested in accounts of both successes and failures. Successes induce many participants and observers to document them, whereas failed efforts are often lost to history, in part because involved parties are typically unmotivated to document their failures. The GLP-1 class of drugs for diabetes and obesity have emerged over (...) the past decade as clinical and financial blockbusters, perhaps soon becoming the highest single source of revenue for the pharmaceutical industry (Berk 2023). In that context, it is instructive to tell the story of the first commercial effort to develop this class of drugs for metabolic disease, and how, despite remarkable early success, the work was abandoned in 1990. Told by a key participant in the effort, this story documents history that would otherwise be lost and suggests a number of lessons about drug development that remain relevant today. (shrink)

In Poetics chapter 9, Aristotle famously claims that poetry is more philosophical than history. What does this mean? I argue that he is talking about the metaphysics of events. Poets seek causal coherence among the events in their stories. Historians must report what happened whether or not the events of history exhibit causal coherence. This makes the poet's job more philosophical than the historian's, for the poet is seeking a unified plot -- an action-type -- that serves as (...) the backbone of the story he is trying to tell. The poet's final script is a token of an Aristotelian universal, the universal being an action-type that could have been fleshed out in many different ways, although with similar characters. Hence, the poet shows us what he thinks it is likely or necessary for agents of different types to do in the circumstances that confront them. Aristotelian mimesis, on this account, is the poetic representation of "one action," that is, of one action-type. (shrink)

ENLIGHTENMENT AND POLITICAL FICTION: -/- THE EVERYDAY INTELLECTUAL -/- (New York/London: Routledge, 2016). -/- Abstract -/- Advanced, theoretical ideas can be found in the most unlikely books. A handful of books—sometimes surprising ones—not only entertain the reader but also contribute to new ways of seeing the world. Indeed, some theorists explicitly cite literature. Adam Smith, for example, makes repeated references to Voltaire, and Marx later claims numerous literary sources, including Don Quixote. Why, though, should an historian of ideas direct sustained (...) scholarly attention to literature? And what, exactly, beyond high entertainment, should anyone not in literary studies expect when reading great fiction? -/- To address these questions, I examine the particular textures and peculiarities of thought in five famous works of fiction, written from 1600-1850. I have found a web of text-based, interrelated ideas that are attributed to the Enlightenment, and yet that existed considerably before the early-modern period, and, in many cases, that lasted well into our own time. Ideas ascribed to later thinkers—for example, John Locke, in the late seventeenth century, on private property—can be found in much earlier works of fiction. In this case, however, Locke himself acknowledged his debt to Cervantes, but this has been forgotten, as few modern readers read both the theory and the fiction of the past. The five works of fiction examined here, from five different languages, therefore, not only reflect European Enlightenment thinking, but in some cases they helped to create it. -/- Overall I argue that access to political and economic theory by way of fiction made it possible for any person, even someone beyond traditional scholarly circles, to become part of an ongoing, vital academic debate. Enlightenment and Political Fiction: The Everyday Intellectual is designed as an homage to E. P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class (1963) by telling the story of the making of the everyday intellectual. The stress here is on the abstract theory to be found in a few famous works of fiction, ideas presented in a format highly attractive to contemporary (and later) readers, yet also exhibited in a manner that showed respect for the intelligence of the average reader. Extrapolating from Thompson, I argue that it was not passive reception but active participation of readers—including those who listened to the book read out loud—that fostered Enlightenment from below. The decision to engage in this intellectual debate, grounded in ideas often first found in fiction, and much of it featuring less-than-gifted central characters, allowed everyday people—the vast majority of whom were wholly removed from both salons and universities—to participate in the questioning and eventually the decision-making of their own states. This led to greater political participation, which is often cited as one of the indicators of the shift to the modern age. -/- Looking at fiction alongside philosophy, political theory, and the history of economic thought enriches our notion of theorizing, and shifts our understanding about which texts should be addressed. Authors, in the midst of developing theories, take their source materials from ideas in their own cultures and then systematize particular concepts. In some cases, nascent political and economic ideas appear first in literature, as in Cervantes’s Don Quixote, and, in other cases, theorists deliberately used literature to propound their theories to a much wider audience, as in Voltaire’s Candide, which might be considered a novelization of moral theory. It is not that the former case—abstract ideas breaking through first in fiction—is the rule in this period, and the latter—theorists manipulating fiction for their own purposes—the exception, but rather that there is a dialectical relationship between fiction and theory in the long eighteenth century. -/- See: http://www.amazon.com/Enlightenment-Political-Fiction-Intellectual-Routledge/dp/1138954179 AND https://www.routledge.com/products/9781138954175. (shrink)

We need to specify what ethical responsibility historians, as historians, owe, and to whom. We should distinguish between natural duties and obligations, and recognize that historians' ethical responsibility is of the latter kind. We can discover this responsibility by using the concept of “accountability”. Historical knowledge is central. Historians' central ethical responsibility is that they ought to tell the objective truth. This is not a duty shared with everybody, for the right to truth varies with (...) the audience. Being a historian is essentially a matter of searching for historical knowledge as part of an obligation voluntarily undertaken to give truth to those who have a right to it. On a democratic understanding, people need and are entitled to an objective understanding of the historical processes in which they live. Factual knowledge and judgments of value are both required, whatever philosophical view we might have of the possibility of a principled distinction between them. Historians owe historical truth not only to the living but to the dead. Historians should judge when that is called for, but they should not distort historical facts. The rejection of postmodernism's moralism does not free historians from moral duties. Historians and moral philosophers alike are able to make dispassionate moral judgments, but those who feel untrained should be educated in moral understanding. We must ensure the moral and social responsibility of historical knowledge. As philosophers of history, we need a rational reconstruction of moral judgments in history to help with this. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Space, Place and Capitalism: The Literary Geographies of “The Unknown Industrial Prisoner” by Brett HeinoDavid McLaughlinSpace, Place and Capitalism: The Literary Geographies of “The Unknown Industrial Prisoner” BY BRETT HEINO Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan, 2021I would not be the first to describe Brett Heino’s new book as timely. Its publication in 2021 coincided with the fiftieth anniversary of the first publication of David Ireland’s The Unknown Industrial Prisoner (1971). (...) This experimental novel, centered on a “kaleidoscopic vision” of its characters and their lives, tells the story of a group of workers at the Puroil refinery in a fictionalized part of Sydney. In Heino’s own words, this project emerged from a desire to write about industrialization and representation in Australian fiction. Working primarily as a legal scholar and historian, this work represents his first foray into literary geography.At the heart of Heino’s argument is a question: What does literature know about space? In his pursuit of a spatially-directed reading of The Unknown Industrial Prisoner, Heino eschews work in literary geography that cultural geographers might recognize— particularly the writings of Sheila Hones, the doyenne of an emerging interdiscipline of literary geography, whose practitioners work at the interstices between literary studies and geography. Heino criticizes this interdisciplinary literary geography as being too focused on establishing the “sovereignty” or “imperialism” of fictional space at the expense of recognizing the [End Page 132] role of literature in the world. Arguably, such a stance is a misreading of the thinking within literary geography that “reading literature is essentially an experimental process in which the categorical distinction between the frames of ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’ become blurred,”1 and where the “ontological distinction between literary and non- literary spaces” is undermined.2 Neither of these statements supposes that reading literature is a practice by which the world falls away and nothing remains but the book. Instead, following Doreen Massey’s idea that space is a complicated process of events and happenings, literary geographers in this mold argue that fiction is a part of life as it happens, and reading is a constitutive practice in the co- production of space.In its place, Heino emphasizes a form of literary geographical thinking that understands literature’s role as being separate from, but intimately connected to, the actual world. His theoretical framework is multi-layered, borrowing from Marxist literary scholars, including Terry Eagleton and Fredric Jameson, and Marxist geographers, including Henri Lefebvre. In essence, however, it can be expressed neatly in the following quotation from geocritic Bertrand Westphal:Fiction does not reproduce the real, but actualises new virtualities that had remained unformulated, and then goes on to interact with the real according to the hypertextual logic of interfaces... fiction detects possibilities buried in the folds of the real, knowing that these folds have not been temporised.3I think that Heino’s rejection of what he characterizes as poststructural literary geography, of the kind represented in his analysis of Sheila Hones’s work, misses some opportunities. First, there are similarities between his conception of literary geography and those he leaves aside— not least, their shared acceptance of the productive tension that sits between literature as text and world as practical, non- representational, and exceeding narrative. Secondly, the shared aim of both approaches is to understand how “representation ‘takes place’ and precisely how texts are part of what happens.”4 This is particularly powerful in the light of Heino’s aim to understand the development and contents of literary texts in materialist terms. Despite these areas [End Page 133] of convergence, Heino’s argument that literary geography’s potential to analyze class and political structures remains untapped is well founded. This is where Heino’s contribution is at its strongest.Heino’s work is at its most convincing when he discusses the realities of “abstract space” that both permeate the spaces of The Unknown Industrial Prisoner and structure the very fabric of latter- twentieth century Australia. Running through both Heino’s critique and Ireland’s novel is an understanding “that the inherent drive of capital is towards the creation of a fragmented, homogenised and hierarchised space within which it can produce and... (shrink)

The Birth of String Theory by Cappelli et al. tells the story of the beginnings of string theory and of the evolutionary process it has undergone from its origins in S-matrix theory to its current status as a candidate unification theory. The book is intended for an audience of students and researchers in physics, as well as historians and philosophers of science with some background in quantum field theory.In the 50s and early 60s, theoretical particle physics focused on (...) formulating a theory to explain the strong interactions. Due to issues with the application of perturbative quantum field theory to the strong interactions, theoretical particle physicists shifted their attention to Heisenberg’s ‘S-matrix’ theory, which focused solely on observable quantities. This endeavour led in 1968 to the breakthrough of the famous ‘Veneziano amplitude’, which along with the Dolen–Horn–Schmid duality between the s- and the t-channels led to the dual resonance model . Following Ve .. (shrink)

The first few chapters of Caesar's Bellum Civile are notoriously untrustworthy. Much has been done by Nissen, Schmidt and others towards re-telling the story more truthfully, but our accounts are not yet fully satisfactory. Caesar's statement that he met the tribunes only after crossing the Rubicon is at first sight startling and does not accord with the story as told by Plutarch and Appian; for both of these historians make much of the fact that Caesar exhibited the (...) tribunes upon their arrival to his army, thus stirring the soldiers to action. Plutarch and Appian are evidently following Pollio, who was with Caesar on the day of crossing: they ought therefore to furnish testimony of some weight. Suetonius makes no direct statement about the matter, but the order of events as given by him seems to place him in agreement with the statement of the Bellum Civile. We have therefore Pollio, Plutarch , and Appian against the words of the Bellum Civile and Suetonius; or, more simply, Pollio against Caesar, both of whom were eye-witnesses of what occurred that day. Pollio, moreover, is the critic who questions the veracity of these very commentaries. Our acceptance of one side or the other can, therefore, hardly depend upon preponderance of authority. It will be a question of probability and probability I think we shall find resting with Plutarch and Appian. The only objection against adopting this conclusion at once, is that it seems to assume that Caesar has falsified to his own disadvantage. (shrink)

The article aims to contribute to a wider knowledge of the Hilâl epic, a masterwork of popular Arabic literature that tells the story of a nomadic pastoral people from the Arabian deserts. The focus is on the ‘Taghrîba’ cycle, which relates the migration in the 11th century of these Sons of Hilâl to Ifrîqiyya, present-day Tunisia. In this context reference is made to the political act of the Fatimid power that launched the Hilalians on the conquest of Ifrîqiyya, as (...) well as to historians’ and linguists’ perception of it. But interest is centred more on the texts, which are copiously quoted, their poetic quality and their message – the expression of a tribal humanism, composed of grandeur and human dignity, particular to those desert people. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.3 (2002) 513-516 [Access article in PDF] Deborah Tarn Steiner. Images in Mind: Statues in Archaic and Classical Greek Literature and Thought. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001. xviii + 360 pp. 28 black-and-white figures. Cloth, $39.50. The production of sculpture in metal, stone, and other materials was a craft that virtually disappeared from the Greek world for several centuries after the end of the Bronze (...) Age. Small, solid cast bronze figurines reappeared in the ninth century B.C.E., but it was not until the middle seventh century that the first large-scale stone statues of women and men were created. From that point on, freestanding and architectural sculpture played a central role in Greek society and its artistic expression. While the stylistic evolution of Greek sculpture has been traced many times, in this provocative and ambitious book, Deborah Steiner sets out to examine, from a literary standpoint, "how archaic and classical Greek poets, philosophers, dramatists, and historians introduce statues as cognitive and hermeneutic devices in their texts" (xi). The investigation leads her to analyze what the statues "looked like, how they functioned," and "what they were credited with doing." The resulting book "aims to tell two stories, one about objects, the other about texts, and to show how each proves crucial to the other." The examination is somewhat lopsided, since the intellectual use of the visual material is given far greater emphasis than the statues themselves.The book is divided into five lengthy chapters and an epilogue. The first chapter, "Replacement and Replication," focuses on the physical resemblance of statues to people but not their inner natures. Chapter 2, "Inside and Out," examines, instead, the ways that a statue's exterior can relate more or less exactly to its inner truth. Chapter 3, "The Quick and the Dead," suggests that statues, by their very inertia, closely resemble the dead and therefore mediate in our imagination between the two states. Statues as erotic (or anti-erotic) art objects form the subject of chapter 4, "For Love of a Statue." The fifth and final chapter, "The Image in the Text," returns to the literary relation of sculpture to the production of memory: the similarity between victory odes and victors' statues, funerary epigrams and monuments, and the creation and regulation (on both the social and political levels) of honorary statuary and decrees. The retrospective epilogue is followed by twenty-eight black-and-white illustrations: Most of them depict well-known pieces of sculpture, but there are also several photographs of vase paintings and one of a drachma.In all the chapters, Steiner continually draws attention to the multivalent aspects of statues. The Greeks developed and applied a large and nuanced vocabulary to describe different types of image that embody differences only [End Page 513] poorly translated by our term, "statue": agalma, eidolon, eikon, kolossos, xoanon, and sema. Most of these have provoked extended discussion among modern scholars. The functions that statues played are even more diverse: they could serve as replacements for the absent or deceased individual, as votive offerings, as cult images, as commemorative monuments, as apotropaic devices, as protective symbols, as minatory agents, and occasionally as deadly entities (some statues could madden their viewer and even kill those who abused them or their creators by toppling over). They were also focusing devices that could evoke a wide range of emotional responses, from pity to lust. As exempla they served to instruct, and some could speak with their own voices, sometimes comically (e.g., the herms in Attic comedy) or poignantly through the words inscribed on their bases (e.g., the famous lines of Phrasikleia, the dead maiden who will never be a bride). The repeated use of the first person by funerary figures is particularly evocative. The inscriptions on other figures (like the very early Mantiklos Apollo statuette) make it clear that images could serve as bargaining chips with the gods for past services rendered or debts owed for the future.Other statues defy simple categorization—the Athena Parthenos, for example... (shrink)

This remarkable collection of period photographs details day-to-day life and changing times in the Deep South. Draffus Lamar Hightower, 1899-1993, spent most of his life in Barbour County, Alabama. For many years he was the owner of a Chevrolet dealership, but he had another occupation as well. From his youth, he was fascinated with photography, and for fifty years he experimented with the craft both technically and artistically. Hightower, while participating fully in the 20th century, was also acutely aware of (...) the passing of the heritage of the last one. From the early 1920s to the late 1960s, he made thousands of negatives of people, events, landscapes, objects, and buildings in Barbour County. His photographs are reminiscent of the documentary work of Walker Evans, Berenice Abbott, and other great 20th-century American photographers. Hightower created an incredibly complete and vivid record of the life of a rural Alabama county during a period of profound change-documenting everything from birthday parties and political rallies to farm scenes and the demolition of historic buildings so that future generations would not forget the world of their forebears. In 1990, Michael Thomason, historian and photographic archivist, began the long process of reviewing Hightower's collection of photographs, interviewing family and friends, and salvaging and printing the negatives, which by that time had begun to deteriorate. Thomason restored and printed 195 photographs and prepared accompanying essays that not only reveal the technical details of Hightower's labor of love but also tell the story of the human and economic changes in Barbour County during this period. (shrink)

Digital video and photography are becoming aspects of everyday business activities, allowing for the quick modification and distribution of images. From development of websites to the editing of a single photograph on a desktop PC, people are using digital images in many business contexts. However, important business ethics issues are emerging concerning the malleability and veracity of digital images as well as their rapid dissemination on the Internet. Activities with digital video and photography in business ethics classrooms can underscore (...) a number of philosophical and moral concerns involving the nature of perception and documentation as well as surveillance. The era of video and photography as reliable “witnesses” to human interaction is gradually passing; they are becoming recognized as highly malleable media that give photographers wide leeway in modification, leading to issues involving the trustworthiness of photographic documentation in business contexts. Various exercises and scenarios that explore image modification issues are included in this article. Hands-on exercises can also be effective; students who create and subsequently edit digital portraits of themselves in the context of a business ethics class can gain valuable perspectives on role-taking and the ethical implications of deceptive communications. (shrink)

The need of reason is not inspired by the quest for truth but by the quest for meaning. And truth and meaning are not the same. The basic fallacy, taking precedence over all specific metaphysical fallacies, is to interpret meaning on the model of truth. (Hanna Arendt, The Life of the Mind: Thinking)2 The problem of agency in liberal political thought begins when dictates of reason grounded in philosophical truth become separated from motivations premised on desires and appetites articulated in (...) moral psychology. In the writings of Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and John Stuart Mill, political agency requires both reason and motive, and motive, in turn, requires narratives of meaning that enable and motivate us to act. These narratives incorporate elements of the sacred and these religious elements, in turn, become parts of their moral psychologies. Part I is a summary of the role of sacred narrative for human agency in Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and John Stuart Mill. In America, a sacred/national narrative became an essential part of Progressive political thought at the turn of the last century. Part II explores the construction of national narratives in Progressive political thought that were intended to discredit prevailing forms of constitutionalist and other static and abstract forms of rights talk. The decline of this narrative framework and the rise of fixed principles of moral neutrality in liberal public philosophy in America during the second half of the twentieth century had two effects: it downplayed the role of civic virtue and it submerged national narratives of substantive public purpose. This narrative absence runs parallel with the demise of progressive liberalism as a formative political force in America. Recently, American public intellectuals have sought to restore narrative and patriotism to principles of liberal-progressive reform. Part III concludes by returning to the moral psychology of liberalism, this time by contrasting John Rawls and Charles Taylor on human agency. (shrink)

This book features thirty independent brands, telling the stories behind their origins, products, successes and brand philosophies.

Se ha dicho que para entender una literatura lo mejor es leer sus obras, y no lo que sobre ella se ha dicho o escrito. Este artículo, en cuatro partes, es un intento de estudiar las muwashshaḥāt y sus kharjas, basado solamente, dentro de lo posible, en los textos con los que contamos. El artículo llega a tres conclusiones, no del todo nuevas para mis lectores: 1. Si bien las muwashshaḥāt fueron producto de la tradición literaria clásica árabe, su desarrollo (...) se enlaza inevitablemente con factores específicos, políticos y sociales, del medio andalusí. 2. La kharja es una salida de 'ingenio' o 'ingeniosa', ẓarf o hazl, al final de la muwashshaḥ. Sea cual fuere su propósito de haber existido antes de las muwashshaḥāt, las kharjas de voz femenina en lengua romance, al igual que sus equivalentes árabes, tenían como función suministrar el mismo requisito de ẓarf al final de la muwashshaḥ. 3. La reacción de Ibn Sanā' al-Mulk hacia la kharja fue en gran medida una reacción psicológica, y no una respuesta literaria bien ponderada. La mejor manera de saber lo que Ibn Sanā' al-Mulk pensaba de las muwashshaḥātes leer las que él mismo compuso, y no lo que opinó sobre la kharja. (shrink)

This paper explores ethical challenges encountered when conducting research about, and telling, the stories of individuals who had died before the research began. Cases were explored where individuals who lived alone had died alone at home and where their bodies had been undiscovered for an extended period. The ethical review process had not had anything significant to say about the deceased ‘participants’. As social researchers we considered whether it was ethical to involve deceased people in research when they had (...) no opportunity to decline, and we were concerned about how to report such research. The idea that the dead can be harmed did not help our decision-making processes, but the notion of the dead having limited human rights conferred upon them was useful and aided us in clarifying how to conduct our research and disseminate our findings. (shrink)

Recent energy problems in California, combined with gyrating U.S. gasoline prices, have brought renewed attention to the energy efficiency of American automobiles. But this timely study by David Kirsch examines a set of historical questions related to electric vehicles. A century ago electric‐powered vehicles seriously contended in the emerging market for automobiles. The internal combustion engine soon won out, but Kirsch shows that the explanation does not lie in common assumptions about a supposed technical superiority of gasoline engines. In line (...) with the best recent scholarship in the history of technology, this volume demonstrates the complicated web of social, business, and environmental issues that, interwoven with technical factors, produce a more nuanced story of technical change, namely, the market failure of the electric vehicle. Specifically, Kirsch demolishes as simplistic the efforts to pin the failure of the electric car on its battery.Kirsch's history begins with the formation and activities of the Electric Vehicle Company , the leading maker of electric cars. In 1897, EVC emerged in the context of early experiments with electric cars and grew into a large enterprise pursuing a marketing strategy of providing taxi services in large cities. Most automobile pioneers assumed that each power plant would prove best suited for certain activities. Electric‐vehicle promoters embraced this logic of separate spheres, envisioning electric cars as best suited for short urban trips and for women drivers. Unfortunately, drivers of gasoline cars did not respect these boundaries. So even as EVC pioneered ideas such as interchangeable battery racks for cabs, their vehicles slowly lost in the competition. The demise of the company in 1912 was as much organizational as technical, however, for the various branches of the company’s operations failed to follow standard practices designed to produce good service, not to mention profits.Kirsch tells similar stories about other efforts to promote and sell electric vehicles. Thus attempts to link electric cars and central power generating stations went nowhere, despite a seemingly obvious fit. Utilities were attempting to build load, and battery charging at night promised to smooth load curves. Once again, however, Kirsch traces a pattern of missed business opportunities and organizational failures that amplified the technical challenges posed by battery power. In the end, utilities and electric vehicles never developed a suitable working relationship. A similar fate befell electric delivery trucks, even though they survived in a few East Coast cities for a longer time. Finally, efforts to develop an infrastructural base analogous to gasoline filling stations also went nowhere. Taken together, these sections of Kirsch's book are designed to show “might have been” elements to this complicated story.Kirsch offers a number of original ideas as he follows this story along the path of history. He devotes a chapter to the idea, for example, that the electric vehicle actually survives within the internal combustion car, which he sees as a gasoline‐electric hybrid. Beginning with the adoption of the electric starter as a standard element of the “normal” automobile, this hybrid nature was reinforced by the introduction of electric lighting, radios, and other electrically powered accessories. Kirsch also discusses the environmental impact of automobiles and closes with a chapter suggesting that the approaches of industrial ecology offer a promising way of thinking about the technology/environment interface. Overall, he makes an important contribution to the scholarly literature on technical failures, a topic that several historians have recently examined in order to highlight the importance of attention to alternative pathways—successful and otherwise. As has been the case in other such studies, the result is a much more complex, but also much more compelling and plausible, historical account. Kirsch's study is a model of the current work in the history of technology. (shrink)

In 1892, near Trinil on the island of Java, laborers under the direction of the expatriate Dutch physician‐anatomist Eugène Dubois uncovered fossil bones that, Dubois believed, belonged to a single member of a hitherto‐undiscovered species. Dubois named the species Pithecanthropus erectus , a reflection of his steadfast belief in its transitional role in human evolution. The fossil, popularly known as “Java Man,” is now classified as Homo erectus—a species not fully human but far closer to us than Dubois envisioned.Dubois and (...) Pithecanthropus have been covered before: briefly in Carl Swisher, Garniss Curtis, and Roger Lewin's Java Man and at length in Bert Theunissen's Eugene Dubois and the Ape‐Man from Java . Pat Shipman's interests are more strictly biographical: Dubois as a family man, as a European in Southeast Asia, and as a scientist struggling to establish a career and a reputation. The Man Who Found the Missing Link weaves together the multiple threads of a complex life: extensive travels, eclectic scientific interests, tempestuous relations with colleagues, and a slowly disintegrating marriage. It vividly conveys Dubois's near‐obsession with the Pithecanthropus erectus fossils and his tenacity in defending their significance. Shipman tells the story almost exclusively from Dubois's point of view and almost exclusively in the present tense, sacrificing authorial distance for immediacy. The book often reads, therefore, as if it were Dubois's own memoir, “as told to” Shipman.Lavishly produced by a major trade publisher, Shipman's book is clearly aimed at readers who have enjoyed the work of Dava Sobel, Bella Bathurst, and Simon Winchester. Taken on those terms, it succeeds admirably. Like Sobel's Longitude and Winchester's The Map That Changed the World , it is a vigorous tale of an embattled scientific maverick who triumphs despite repeated setbacks. Like them, it succeeds both as literature and as a character study.Historians interested in the book for professional reasons will find it less satisfying. It is full of recounted conversations and descriptions of unvoiced thoughts and feelings—these elements are the heart of the book's literary style and essential to its characterization of Dubois. The sparse and sketchy endnotes make it impossible, however, to determine the sources of this material or to draw clear lines between contemporary accounts, after‐the‐fact recollections, the author's inferences, and outright speculations. Shipman writes, in one alarming example, that “Dubois is something else, something extraordinary, the coolies conclude. He is a chosen man. Clearly he has been given a special role or dharma through a divine revelation: that is the only possible explanation” . With no endnote to explain the source of this insight into the coolies' thoughts, readers are left to wonder if it is Dubois's own imperialist fantasy, reported as if it were fact.Shipman also does little to relate Dubois to the scientific world of his day. Coverage of the culture of colonial science, Dutch scientific institutions, and turn‐of‐the‐century debates over human evolution is scant. Scientists like Henry Fairfield Osborn, Ales Hrdlicka, and Ralph Von Koenigswald are introduced with only vague indications of their interests, status, or intellectual commitments. Hominid fossils other than Pithecanthropus erectus receive little more attention; even the Neanderthals, on whom Shipman has coauthored an authoritative book, are accorded only a handful of pages. All of this makes it difficult to assess whether Dubois's experiences were typical of the times, places, and fields in which he worked. It also undercuts Shipman's claim that Dubois, by his dogged insistence on the “missing link” status of Pithecanthropus erectus, forced his fellow scientists to confront the reality of human evolution. (shrink)

This book is about you. How does your brain work and where do your thoughts and dreams come from? How can you harness their creative power? Ableman posits a crucial relationship between language and memory and thus between language and self-awareness. Most startlingly he maintains that the human 'person' is essentially the language component of a large-brained animal. Ableman has researched his theory using existing data derived from the malfunctioning mind as manifested in schizophrenia, sleepwalking, autism, 'out of body' (...) experiences and nightmares. His revolutionary claims constitute an exciting and persuasive theory of mind which orthodox science could - and should - test. (shrink)

The narrative ethicist imagines life as multiple points of view, each reflecting a distinct imagination and each more or less capable of comprehending other points of view and how they imagine. Each point of view is constantly being acted out and then modified in response to how others respond. People generally have good intentions, but they get stuck realizing those intentions. Stories stall when dialogue breaks down. People stop hearing others' stories, maybe because those others have quit telling their (...) stories. The narrative ethicist's job is to help people generate new imaginations that can restart dialogues. (shrink)

Risk preferences of Australian academics are elicited by analyzing the aggregate distribution of their retirement funds across available investment options. Not more than 10 % of retirement funds are invested as if their owners maximize expected utility under the assumption of constant relative risk aversion with an empirically plausible level of risk aversion. An implausibly high level of risk aversion is required to rationalize any investment into bonds when stocks are available. Not more than 36.54 % of all (...) investments can be rationalized by a model of loss averse preferences. Moreover, the levels of loss aversion typically reported in the experimental studies imply overinvestment in bonds, which is not observed in the data. Up to 67.18 % of all investments can be rationalized by rank-dependent utility or Yaari’s dual model with empirically plausible parameters. A median Australian academic behaves as if maximizing rank-dependent utility with parameter γ∈[0.76,0.79]\documentclass[12pt]{minimal} \usepackage{amsmath} \usepackage{wasysym} \usepackage{amsfonts} \usepackage{amssymb} \usepackage{amsbsy} \usepackage{mathrsfs} \usepackage{upgreek} \setlength{\oddsidemargin}{-69pt} \begin{document}$$\gamma \in [0.76, 0.79]$$\end{document} in a Tversky and Kahneman probability weighting function. (shrink)

In "Amazing Grace," the best-loved of all hymns, John Newton's allusions to the drama of his life tell the story of a youth who was a virtual slave in Sierra Leone before ironically becoming a slave trader himself. Liverpool, his home port, was the center of the most colossal, lucrative, and inhumane slave trade the world has ever known. A gradual spiritual awakening transformed Newton into an ardent evangelist and anti-slavery activist. Influenced by Methodists George Whitefield and John (...) Wesley, Newton became prominent among those favoring a Methodist-style revival in the Church of England. This movement stressed personal conversion, simple worship, emotional enthusiasm, and social justice. While pastoring a poor flock in Olney, he and poet William Cowper produced a hymnal containing such perennial favorites as "Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken" and "God Moves in a Mysterious Way." Later, while serving a church in London, Newton raised British consciousness on the immorality of the slave trade. The account he gave to Parliament on the atrocities he had witnessed helped William Wilberforce obtain legislation to abolish the slave trade in England. Newton's life story convinced many who are "found" after being "lost" to sing Gospel hymns as they lobbied for civil rights legislation. His close involvement with both capitalism and evangelicalism, the main economic and religious forces of his era, provide a fascinating case study of the relationship of Christians to their social environment. In an afterword on Newtonian Christianity, Phipps explains Newton's critique of Karl Marx's thesis that religious ideals are always the effect of what produces the most profit. Phipps relies on accounts Newton gives in his ship journal, diary, letters, and sermons for this most readable scholarly narrative. (shrink)

This introduction reflects on practices of telling stories about works by influential contemporary feminist philosophers, interrogating what is considered impactful feminist philosophy. I frame this edition through a particular kind of re-citational engagement with Heyes’s work—through her own previous writings and my first-personal experiences with the text and her role in my intellectual formation as my dissertation supervisor. I draw on Clare Hemmings’s (2011) work on the grammar of feminist intellectual storytelling, offering brush strokes through embodied and relational stories that (...) help me make sense of Anaesthetics, in order to tell alternative stories to frame the work, specifically Heyes’s methods, impacts, and the relations amongst her previous works. In reflecting on the embodied realities and feminist intellectual networks that inform our framing practices, I consider how we are relationally and affectively invested in figures and thinkers, our schools of thought, our style of philosophy, and our forms of participation in the discipline. Through these reflections, I trace Heyes’s work as grasping life examples with rich opportunities to grapple with stubborn philosophical ambivalences in conceptualizing embodied freedom and agency, while developing adaptive methods that probe their transcendental conditions. (shrink)

Background: There is a significant discourse in the literature that opines that people who use illicit opiates are unable to provide informed consent due to withdrawal symptoms and cognitive impairment as a result of opiate use. Aims: This paper discusses the issues related to informed consent for this population. Ethical considerations: Ethical approval was obtained from both the local REB and the university. Written informed consent was obtained from all participants. Method: This was a qualitative interpretive descriptive study. 22 participants (...) were interviewed, including 18 nurses, 2 social workers and 2 clinic support workers. The findings were analyzed using thematic analysis, which is a way of systematically reducing the complexity of the information to arrive at generalized explanations. Results: The staff at the clinic were overwhelming clear in their judgment that people who use opiates can and should be able to participate in research and that their drug use is not a barrier to informed consent. Conclusions: It is important to involve people who use opiates in research. Protectionist concerns about this population may be overstated. Such concerns do not promote the interests of research participants. People who use heroin need to be able to tell their story. (shrink)

Read together, historian Alexandra Minna Stern's Telling Genes: The Story of Genetic Counseling in America and bioethicist Michael Parker's Ethical Problems and Genetics Practice convey a rich understanding of genetic practices and their implicit moralities. The books are methodologically similar in that both authors examine genetics practices empirically, and the resulting perspectives are complementary, Stern's from outside genetics practices and Parker's from inside.

Historians typically tell stories about the past, but how are we to understand the epistemic status of those narratives? This problem is particularly pressing for history education, which seeks guidance not only on the question of which narrative to teach but also more fundamentally on the question of the goals of instruction in history. This article explores the nature of historical narrative, first, by engaging with the seminal work of Hayden White, and second, by developing the critique of (...) White by David Carr. The picture of historical inquiry that emerges is one in which the fundamental cognitive activity is one of negotiating among narratives. Students, like historians, like any of us, come to the work of historical inquiry in possession of prior narratives, which are then thrown into an encounter with other narratives of varying size and scope. Good historians enact the negotiation among narratives responsibly and well, demonstrating the virtues of historical interpretation. History education, therefore, ought to help students improve their historical interpretations at the same time as it fosters those qualities that make them good interpreters. (shrink)

Responding to a recent surge of interest in feminist art, its futures, and its history, this article considers the nature and function of the dominant narratives that circulate and structure the field. Specifically, I explore the persistent story of inter-generational strife in which a first generation of artists and historians is understood to have been naïvely mired in an essentialism of which a second, more theoretically savvy generation has been subsequently cleansed. Although one would be hard pressed to (...) identify contemporary scholars who promote this sort of generationally bound progress narrative, the story persists. Its persistence, I argue, has less to do with its truth telling ability and more to do with its ability to perform the function of disidentification. (shrink)

This paper addresses three commentaries on Victims' Stories and the Advancement of Human Rights. In response to Vittorio Bufacchi, it argues that asking victims to tell their stories needn't be coercive or unjust and that victims are entitled to decide whether and under what conditions to tell their stories. In response to Serene Khader, it argues that empathy with victims' stories can contribute to building a culture of human rights provided that measures are taken to overcome (...) the implicit biases and colonialist interpellations she identifies. In response to Andrea Westlund, it proposes a taxonomy of types of narrative closure and offers some arguments to strengthen her view that empathy with victims' stories endows audience members with a new reason and new motivation to support human rights. (shrink)

A medical student's ability to present a case history is a critical skill that is difficult to teach. Case histories presented without theatrical engagement may fail to catch the attention of their intended recipients. More engaging presentations incorporate ‘stage presence’, eye contact, vocal inflection, interesting detail and succinct, well organised performances. They convey stories effectively without wasting time. To address the didactic challenge for instructing future doctors in how to ‘act’, the Mayo Medical School and The Mayo Clinic Center (...) for Humanities in Medicine partnered with the Guthrie Theater to pilot the programme ‘Telling the Patient's Story’. Guthrie teaching artists taught storytelling skills to medical students through improvisation, writing, movement and acting exercises. Mayo Clinic doctors participated and provided students with feedback on presentations and stories from their own experiences in patient care. The course's primary objective was to build students' confidence and expertise in storytelling. These skills were then applied to presenting cases and communicating with patients in a fresher, more engaging way. This paper outlines the instructional activities as aligned with course objectives. Progress was tracked by comparing pre-course and post-course surveys from the seven participating students. All agreed that the theatrical techniques were effective teaching methods. Moreover, this project can serve as an innovative model for how arts and humanities professionals can be incorporated for teaching and professional development initiatives at all levels of medical education. (shrink)