Why does the world look to us as it does? As Nico Orlandi argues, it is simply because of how the world is. This answer emerges from understanding vision as situated in a structured environment, and it contrasts with the view that visual perception involves an inference.

Knowledge Societies offers both a critical examination of existing social theory, and a new synthesis of social theory with the actual study of knowledge relations in advanced economies. Some of the elements explored are scientization: the penetration not only of production but of most social action by scientific knowledge; the transformation of access to knowledge through higher education; the growth of experts (managers, accountants, advisors, and counselors) and of corresponding institutions based on the deployment of specialized knowledge; and a shift (...) in the nature of societal conflict from struggles about income and property to claims and conflicts about generalized human needs. Nico Stehr's argument amply demonstrates not only that all social theories now need to take into account the changing nature of social relations around knowledge, but also the parameters within which this analysis should take place. This book is essential reading for all those interested in social theory, sociology of knowledge and science, and the general issue of knowledge in the late 20th century. (shrink)

What are 'emotions'? This book offers a balanced survey of facts and theory.

Film theory and its emphasis on political and ideological readings of films dominated much of cinema studies in the '70s and '80s. Since then, in response to what some view as the shortcomings of theoretical approaches, a variety of other methods have emerged or reemerged. In many ways, as Nico Baumbach argues, "Anti-Grand Theory" has won the day but its victory is, in part, based on misreadings or simplifications of '70s film theory. In particular, Baumbach views contemporary critical approaches to (...) film as abandoning the crucial and productive ways in which theory understands the relationship between cinema, politics, and art. Baumbach does not advocate a return to the orthodoxies of the seventies but rather reads the work of Ranciere, Badiou, and Agamben as providing new ways of thinking about the history of film theory and how film creates its own way of thinking about politics. Moreover, at a time when digital technologies are asking us to think of film and the film image in new ways, the work of these thinkers once again asks, "What is Cinema?" but in a more expansive sense that can help us account for transformations in how moving images are produced, distributed, and exhibited in the twenty-first century. (shrink)

Ahmad Khatib originated from Minangkabau, West Sumatra and after his settlement in the Holy City of Mecca in 1877, he grew into a scholar in Islamic sciences of great repute and eventually died there in 1916. His written work, educational and other activities have played a vital part in the exchange of religious ideas between Mecca and the Malay-Indonesian archipelago and make him an important person in the history of Islam in Southeast Asia. In my paper I will go in (...) detail into a fatwa he gave on the question of whether or not it was allowed to sell chickens to Chinese. The paper aims to shed light on the mufti-ship of Ahmad Khatib and will look into the wider implications of the issue as far as religious authority is concerned, in particular into its locus. (shrink)

PurposeWith the rise of the internet, the act of sharing copyrighted material has received a lot of attention, culminating in a flood of lawsuits against file‐sharers as well as studies concerning the costs of file‐sharing for the entertainment industry. This paper attempts to judge whether file‐sharing really is an ethically problematic act and, upon achieving this, goes on to propose strategies to avoid file‐sharing and discuss ethical considerations surrounding those distribution alternatives.Design/methodology/approachThe paper limits its discussion to the medium of moving (...) images. It tries to achieve above aims by applying the ethics of Immanuel Kant to the phenomenon of file‐sharing on the internet and borrowing ideas for alternative, file‐sharing avoiding, strategies from practitioners and media commentators and applying Kant's ideas to those.FindingsThe paper argues that file‐sharing cannot, per se, be considered to be unethical. While file‐sharing has positive and negative aspects, the proposed alternative distribution strategies, a one‐stop shop and giving films away for free, seem to avoid the negative implications of file‐sharing while not impeding with its positive facets. The paper concludes that, since the suggested strategies exist but are not yet implemented by the commercial film industry, the moral responsibility for file‐sharing lies with the commercial film industry, not with the individual file‐sharer.Originality/valueThe paper hence adds to the discussions surrounding online files haring by shifting the focus towards the entertainment industry as well as by providing alternative, file‐sharing avoiding, distribution solutions. (shrink)

This article addresses the heritage of Grotius's concept of common goods as developed in his seminal work Mare liberum. This contribution identifies the basic tenets of Grotius's thinking on the nature of common property and identifies the relevance of these ideas for the present day management of global commons, i.e., the areas and natural resources beyond the limits of national jurisdiction. Successively, the article examines the regimes for: the deep seabed, the high seas, and marine mammals; outer space, particularly the (...) moon; the two polar regions; and the atmosphere, in particular the ozone layer and the climate system. The article demonstrates how some of the original tenets of Grotius's concept of res communis – in particular the idea of inexhaustibility – can no longer be upheld and how the freedom of access to the global commons has become increasingly qualified and supplemented, if not replaced by a new law of international co-operation aimed at conservation and sustainable use of natural wealth and resources beyond the limits of national jurisdiction. The global commons function as laboratories for the testing of new principles of international law and new forms of international co-operation, which can be said to clearly build upon the Grotian heritage. (shrink)

There is a certain excitement in vision science concerning the idea of applying the tools of bayesian decision theory to explain our perceptual capacities. Bayesian models are thought to be needed to explain how the inverse problem of perception is solved, and to rescue a certain constructivist and Kantian way of understanding the perceptual process. Anticlimactically, I argue both that bayesian outlooks do not constitute good solutions to the inverse problem, and that they are not constructivist in nature. In explaining (...) how visual systems derive a single percept from underdetermined stimulation, orthodox versions of bayesian accounts encounter a problem. The problem shows that such accounts need to be grounded in Natural Scene Statistics (NSS), an approach that takes seriously the Gibsonian insight that studying perception involves studying the statistical regularities of the environment in which we are situated. Additionally, I argue that bayesian frameworks postulate structures that hardly rescue a constructivist way of understanding perception. Except for percepts, the posits of bayesian theory are not representational in nature. bayesian perceptual inferences are not genuine inferences. They are biased processes that operate over nonrepresentational states. (shrink)

the question of objectivity in legal interpretation has emerged in recent years as an imprtant topic in contemporary jurisprudence. This book addresses the issue of how and in what sense legal interpretation can be objective. The author supports the possibility of objectivity in law and spells out the content of objectivity involved. He then provides a defence against the classical, as well as less well-known, objections to the possibility of objectivity in legal interpretation. The discussion is thoroughly grounded in metaphysics, (...) which sets the book apart from other similar discussions in jurisprudence. Stavropoulos identifies an important source of resistance to the acceptance of the possibility of objectivity in legal interpretation; a widely held but faulty semantic. He then develops an alternative semantic framework, drawing on influential theories in contemporary philosophy. The book shows that objectivism is a natural, common sensical position, and rejects the currently popular notion that objectivism requires extravagant or bizarre metaphysics. Furthermore, the discussion presents the opportunity to re-interpret major debates in jurisprudence and to show how influential theories, notably H.L.A. Hart's and Ronald Dworkin's, bear on that issue. (shrink)

This article attempts to clarify the commitments of a predictive coding approach to perception. After summarizing predictive coding theory, the article addresses two questions. Is a predictive coding perceptual system also a Bayesian system? Is it a Kantian system? The article shows that the answer to these questions is negative.

Law is usually understood as an orderly, coherent system, but this volume shows that it is often better understood as an entangled web. Bringing together eminent contributors from law, political science, sociology, anthropology, history and political theory, it also suggests that entanglement has been characteristic of law for much of its history. The book shifts the focus to the ways in which actors create connections and distance between different legalities in domestic, transnational and international law. It examines a wide range (...) of issue areas, from the relationship of state and indigenous orders to the regulation of global financial markets, from corporate social responsibility to struggles over human rights. The book uses these empirical insights to inform new theoretical approaches to law, and by placing the entanglements between norms from different origins at the centre of the study of law, it opens up new avenues for future legal research. This title is also available as Open Access. (shrink)

The end of the Sixties is considered a turning point in the long-term decline of the political project of American liberalism. That historical moment heralded the transition towards a conservative hegemony and, a decade later, to the affirmation of the neoliberal political economy that has characterised the United States for the last thirty years – even among the different political shades of the Administrations. However, analyzing this process from the vantage point of the “1968” in Detroit complicates a linear narrative (...) of liberalism decline. This article discusses the urban riots, the workers strikes and the emergence and demise of Black Power during Detroit’s “revolutionary moment”, casting them against a wider background and a long-term historical perspective. (shrink)

This article focuses on the role that distorted Christian theology played in the construction of the racial ideologies of Nazism and Apartheid. The central theoretical argument is that these theologies were instrumental in sacralising the history of a specific group by creating origin myths, by idolising the ingroup, defining the outgroup, by providing racist ideologies with rituals and symbols and by creating final utopian solutions. The theological doctrines that were used are characterised by certain common features, such as a collectivist (...) anthropology, the identification of the church with an ethnic group, the view of history as a source of revelation, and the appropriation of myths. The article concludes with the remark that the modern global environment is particularly vulnerable to racism. It is therefore important for Christianity to clearly identify the common characteristics of pseudo-racist theology and to educate its adherents on the difference between authentic theology and pseudo-theology, so that they will not fall prey to destructive forms of religion that encourage racism. (shrink)

The concept of “appraisal” has been used in the literature in a dual way: to refer to the content of emotional experience, as well as to the cognitive antecedents of emotions. I argue that appraisal in the former sense is what is contained in information in self-reports and that this information is of limited use for making inferences on emotion antecedents. This is so because emotional experience may contain appraisals that are part of the emotional response rather than belonging to (...) its causes. They often result from elaboration of the experience after it has begun to be generated. Although in most or all emotions some cognitive appraisal processes are essential antecedents, these processes may be much simpler than self-reports (and the semantics of emotion words) may suggest. The appraisal processes that account for emotion elicitation can be assumed to be of a quite elementary kind. (shrink)

This open access book revises Kant’s ethical thought in one of its most notorious respects: its exclusion of animals from moral consideration. The book gives readers in animal ethics an accessible introduction to Kant’s views on our duties to others, and his view that we have only ‘indirect’ duties regarding animals. It then investigates how one would have to depart from Kant in order to recognise that animals matter morally for their own sake. Particular attention is paid to Kant’s ‘Formula (...) of Humanity,' the role of autonomy and the moral law, as well as Kant’s notions of practical reason and animal instinct. The result is a deliberately amended version of Kantianism which nevertheless remains faithful to central aspects of Kant’s thought. The book’s final part illustrates the framework’s use in applied contexts, addressing the issues of using animals as mere means, the ethics of veganism and vegetarianism, and environmental protection. Nico Dario Müller shows how, when furnished with duties to animals, Kant's moral philosophy can be a powerful resource for animal ethicists. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Response to Anthony J. Palmer, “A Philosophical View of the General Education Core”Nico SchülerAnthony J. Palmer's paper is not only an interesting one but it also continues an absolutely necessary discussion on the general education core curriculum for American undergraduate students. Initially, Palmer summarized the global conditions with which we are presently confronted. This discussion led him to the re-examination of the general education core at the undergraduate level. (...) The goal of such education should be to "prepare students to develop a world where haphazard processes be minimized.... To accomplish that goal, the student must be enabled to integrate a wide variety of facts and ideas, theories, and applications that will become holistic in substance and unified in practice." More specifically, he then focused on the general education courses for music education students and finally, since the current concept is failing in presenting integrated knowledge, he proposed a new philosophy of the general education core. This new philosophy contains three steps: (1) cultivating personal qualities, (2) understanding multiculturalism, and (3) understanding the complexities of humanity itself and its relationship to the earth. [End Page 198]This philosophy is intriguing and does indeed deserve a broad discussion. To start that discussion, I would like to raise several fundamental issues. First, such a philosophy of general education cannot exist as a pure philosophy of the undergraduate general education core (nor can it specifically focus on music students). The ultimate goal of such a philosophy must be to turn toward the general education core of all levels of education, especially beginning with the youngest age groups. A student, educated according to existing philosophies up to age eighteen, will have the hardest time in suddenly connecting the various areas and fields of study in a globalized worldview. The reasons for this problem are cultural. At eighteen, students are culturally so formed that a new cultural opening is hardly possible. The philosophy should, instead, focus on the spiral that professors stimulate: our graduates are the teachers of the next generation, some of whom become teachers and will educate the following generation, and so on. Palmer's goal can, in my opinion, only be reached if we first focus on the general education of all ages, and then stimulate a slow but continuous change throughout the next generations. This change may exploit the cultural open-mindedness of students of all ages within the educational and cultural limitations that were set by their previous education. Indeed, such cultivation in early adulthood can benefit our university students, as Palmer states, but cultivation at such a late stage is limited.Second, the philosophy suggested by Palmer may be hard to realize practically. All mass media would work against such a realization. The organization of classes is, with our current commercialized course offering system, impractical in terms of Palmer's suggestions. Academic units within universities generate money through large general education classes. Who would pay for smaller classes? (I am not speaking about the small, private liberal arts colleges that Palmer mentions but about public colleges and universities, many of which are very large.) If general education were to be moved to a newly created academic unit, as Palmer suggests, who would reimburse the academic units that would lose the credit hours? How could we create the additional classes that would be needed to bring all the areas together that he suggests (music, art, religion, myth, history, language, philosophy, psychology, paleontology, archeology, anthropology, biology, and zoology)? In addition, some of his philosophy is based on Carl Roger's view of personal relationships, which parents as well as teachers have to establish. But how are the parents of our students to establish such relationships? And who is going to educate the parents? American culture itself would certainly be an obstacle for the realization of such an educational philosophy. Furthermore, how do we select the students who are unsuccessful in becoming self-initiated learners? How do we identify those who are not well-read? Should they not be removed? Much of the current educational system is based on the assumption that all, or most, [End Page 199] students are very talented. Realizing Palmer's philosophy would mean... (shrink)

PART I PROLEGOMENA ACTING ON ORDERS "First, words are our tools, and, as a minimum, we should use clean tools: we should know what we mean and what we do ...

Zur Soziologie der Wissenschaftssoziologie* Von Nico Stehr Die Wissenschaftssoziologie ist in Bewegung geraten und mit ihr Wissenschaftsgeschichte und Wissenschaftstheorie sowie eine Reihe weiterer, im akademischen Bereich insti­ tutionalisierter wissenschaftlicher Spezialgebiete, die sich "Wissenschaft" reflexiv als Forschungsobjekt gewählt haben!. Die in diesem Band zusammengetragenen Aufsätze sind sowohl Ausdruck als auch Er­ gebnis dieser neuerlichen Entwicklungen auf dem Gebiet der Wissenschaftssoziologie in verschiedenen Ländern und, wie man immer mehr feststellen kann, der ihr einerseits verwandten, andererseits aber auch vorausgehenden und komplementären theoreti­ schen (...) Ansätze in der Wissenschaftsgeschichte und der Wissenschaftstheorie. Der Zu­ sammenhang von Wissenschaftssoziologie (und Wissenssoziologie), Wissensgeschichte und Wissenschaftstheorie als solcher ist zwar keineswegs neu, schon in der Vergangen­ heit haben sich die in diesen Spezialgebieten dominierenden theoretischen Annahmen gegenseitig beeinflußt. Allerdings blieb der angedeutete Zusammenhang, und hier be­ sonders was die Wissenschaftssoziologie angeht, häufig implizit und war zudem von einem, die in der Wissenschaft herrschende Hierarchie von Disziplinen und Spezial­ gebieten wiederspiegelnden Abhängigkeitsverhältnis gekennzeichnet, bei dem die in einem Spezialgebiet vorherrschenden Annahmen die des anderen weitgehend bestimm­ ten. Im Gegensatz dazu kann man immer häufiger beobachten, daß Abhängigkeits­ verhältnisse von Strukturen abgelöst werden, die auf eine wachsende Zusammenarbeit der sich mit (wenn auch verschiedenen) Aspekten der Wissenschaftsentwicklung be­ schäftigenden Spezialgebiete schließen läßt. (shrink)

Examines the conflict between modern and postmodern theories in sociology and attempts to bridge the divide between them.

Children are the great omission in theology. The objective of the article is to show that there is a growing realisation of this reality. More than that, there are attempts afoot to salvage the situation by factoring children more and more into theological writing, not in an objectified manner, but as serious agents of theology and, in the case of this article, as agents of mission. A few examples to this effect are shown in the article. The main thrust of (...) the study, however, is to raise the hypothetical question of whether children have not become an important and indispensable theological hermeneutic themselves. The serious question is raised of whether children if, taken seriously in church and theology are not forcing a new epistemological break or a new way of believing and of theologising on the world of mission. A somewhat tentative and hypothetical conclusion is arrived at, which suggests that indeed there is a new rupture occurring in terms of how we know what we know in church and theology. (shrink)

continent. 1.1 (2011): 60-67. At the beginning of Martin Heidegger’s lecture “Time and Being,” presented to the University of Freiburg in 1962, he cautions against, it would seem, the requirement that philosophy make sense, or be necessarily responsible (Stambaugh, 1972). At that time Heidegger's project focused on thinking as thinking and in order to elucidate his ideas he drew comparisons between his project and two paintings by Paul Klee as well with a poem by Georg Trakl. In front of Klee's (...) Saints from the Window and Death of Fire —though we wouldn’t absolutely understand what we were seeing—he writes, “we should want to stand…a long while.” In a similar manner, of Trakl’s poem “Septet of Death”—although it is likely we are unsure in what we hear—Heidegger states that, “we should want to hear…[it] often.” Heidegger further states that in appreciating these, “we “should abandon any claim that [they] be immediately intelligible” (1). So also we must we approach, Heidegger continues, the realm of theoretical physics, in which the difficult work of Werner Heisenberg, be listened to “without protest” and without “any claim that he be immediately understood.” These works, like his own project, merit the time they take to be originally (mis)understood. But this is not necessarily true for philosophy, Heidegger advises, because, “That thinking is supposed to offer ‘worldly wisdom’ and perhaps even a ‘way to a blessed life’” (1). Philosophy is in the unique position of being both abstract (what do we talk about when we talk?) and at the same moment, useful. There are demands that it make sense, that it be, grounded, immediate, and most importantly, rational. Heidegger draws these comparisons between the works of Klee and Trakl and Heisenberg not to claim that philosophy is totally irresponsible. He does not claim that the poet, the painter, nor the physicist have acted irresponsibly. Rather, he would say, they are rising to the highest levels of intelligibility, though it is perhaps an intelligibility that is commonly unavailable to us. In Trakl’s case, as we shall see, mastery is the end result of difficult words. Instead, Heidegger seems be making pleas: for a period of uninterrupted unintelligibility (pure unintelligibility); and that there is a time (that time is now) when, “thinking is…placed in a position which demands of it reflections that are far removed from any useful, practical wisdom” (1-2). Heidegger argues that philosophy requires a period of time in which, instead of focusing on the practical—or even on the worldly—the discipline draw its “determination” instead from the place of painting and poetry and physics. In doing so, “we should have to abandon any claims to immediate intelligibility” (2). But Heidegger doesn’t offer this as a way out. We still have to turn up, we “still have to listen, because we must think what is inevitable, but preliminary” (2). The point for Heidegger, is not to listen to a series of propositions, but instead to “follow the movement of showing” (2). I. … Maybe we're here only to say: house, bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window— at most: pillar, tower … but to say them, remember, oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves never dreamed of existing so intensely.… Rainer Maria Rilke, “The Ninth Elegy” There is little more fundamental, preliminary, in the world than language. We use language, in the form of speech, constantly, whether we are saying anything or not. “Man speaks,” Heidegger writes, and goes on to describe in his essay “Language” (2001) the constant speaking that we do. “We are always speaking, even when we do not utter a single word aloud, but merely listen or read, and even when we are not particularly speaking or listening but are attending to some work or taking a rest” (187). Speaking is expression, an utterance of something internal. It is a recognition of a world. It is a way of communicating thought and it is an activity that we all do, inevitably. Speaking separates the human from the animal world, and despite advances in primatology that seek to give ‘voice’ to primates and other non-human animals, it can safely be said that our form of communication—what we call speech and know as language—is the most advanced, the most complicated. We use it to present and represent the world around us; through actual utterances (vocalization) or through the written word or through ‘unvoiced thoughts’ and dreams. We use language, but more specifically speech—naming—to transmit moods, thoughts, desires, aversions, and feelings. These expressions, mere utterances, nearly always find a source in words, whether spoken or not. Heidegger writes that this common view of language means “that only speech enables man to be the living being he is as man. It is as the one who speaks that man is—man” (187). Speaking then—utterance—surrounds us constantly, whether in the form of careful thought—in the form of an academic paper, say—or in the half mutterings and forgotten thoughts of a nearly remembered dream. Like scaffolding, the apparatus of speech sustains and explains the world, making, in a sense, the world rational, making it apparent. When we speak, we describe, and in doing so, name the world. We use words, through this process of naming, to interpret and sustain the world we see, and the world we imagine. Like Rilke’s naming of jug, and bridge, and window, and stream, we describe—and inscribe upon—the world through an activity of naming. Are we here, perhaps, to name? Is it possible not to name? Is it possible to regard and to view and to look around without naming what we see? Is it possible to feel—to experience—world without giving utterance to that feeling, that process? Sadness, grief, joy, ecstasy, hunger, thirst. Desk, light, room, pen, book, world. White, black, tomorrow, today. Each of these words is a name given to a thing I see in front of me, or a concept that I imagine (in the case of tomorrow or world). What arises in my mind has already existed. If I imagine it, it is named. The word for ‘tomorrow’ and ‘desk’ and ‘light’ precedes me, and precedes my concept of it. The idea of it is already pre-informed, and I must, in a certain sense, bend my ideas to it. When I imagine a table, I imagine my own table (or I imagine an idea of table) but that imagining must follow certain general rules; while, perhaps, it might not always require four legs and a horizontal surface, it must, at least not be, say, a pool of water, or a pile of excrement. It must have some tableness to it to be a table. It must, with Heidegger, table. Otherwise, speech is reduced to gibberish. For Heidegger however, the discussion of language points to something deeper than its “scientific and analytic” study as a communicative device. Indeed, Heidegger seeks to understand language not in reference to man or woman, not as an utterance of humanity, but in reference to itself. In doing so he abandons the conversation—that is, he casts away the traditional arguments surrounding philosophy of language; that it is a means of expression; that it is a human activity; and that it is somehow a representation of something that is—in order to seek to understand language as language, on its own terms. Heidegger is not a philosopher of language, but a philosopher of world, of being. Despite these “correct ideas” holding sway “over the whole field of the varied scientific perspectives on language…they ignore completely the oldest natural cast of language” (191). What is this “oldest natural cast of language? It is the act of language itself. Language is language and language speaks. “Most often,” Heidegger writes, “and too often, we encounter what is spoken only as the residue of a speaking long past” (195). Speech, as we normally encounter it, is like Echo herself calling out to Narcissus, doomed to repeat what has already been said, a mere remnant of what was once language, a trace left behind in the gathering silence of becoming. In both the essay “Language” and in his three lecture course “The Nature of Language” (1982), Heidegger attempts to unpack the seeming tautology of language as language. In each, he focuses on poetry as a way out, or into, a true discussion of the oldest natural cast of language. Poetry is pure speech. In poetry, language is brought to language and language speaks ( Die Sprach spricht ). In the act of poetry, the act of pure speech, the poet names (on the surface not different from how I name this table, this computer) but in the poet naming, the naming does not “hand out titles,” “apply terms,” but rather the naming is a call, a calling forth of entities that bring them into their own, allow them to take their place purely, without compromise. This calling, Heidegger (2001) states, “here calls into a nearness. But even so the call does not wrest what it calls away from the remoteness, in which it is kept by the calling there. The calling calls into itself and therefor always here and there—here into presence, there into absence” (196). II. Window with falling snow is arrayed, Long tolls the vesper bell, The house is provided well, The table is for many laid. Wandering ones, more than a few, Come to the door on darksome courses. Golden blooms the tree of graces Drawing up the earth’s cool dew. Wanderer quietly steps within; Pain has turned the threshold to stone. There lie, in limpid brightness shown, Upon the table bread and wine. Georg Trakl “A Winter Evening” Heidegger is often given short shrift as an abysmally difficult writer, as one that makes no sense and is needlessly difficult. In doing this though, we forget sometimes his eloquence, his simple beauty in writing. Of the above opening stanza, “Window with falling snow is arrayed/ Long tolls the vesper bell.” he writes (2001), This speaking names the snow that soundlessly strikes the window late in the waning day, while the vesper bell rings. In such a snowfall, everything lasts longer. Therefore the vesper bell, which daily rings for a strictly fixed time, tolls long. The speaking names the winter evening time (197). The speaking names the winter evening time. It is almost impossible to comment on that one line by Heidegger. It is as though it must exist on its own completely, without elucidation—as though in front of it we must stand as we do in front of a painting by Klee, that is, we must abandon any claim . Silent and devoted. The speaking of the poem here is not clearly different from common speech ( rede ) yet there is, via Heidegger, an invitation to experience that auracular quality of light and stillness that a gentle, dusk tinged snowfall gives; words evoking a quality so clear, so poignant that, in a sense, Heidegger’s work, at this moment, has been done. But what does this naming accomplish? What does the call call? Remember, it is not the poet that calls, but the naming which calls. The poet has only brought the words forward; it is now the words— snow, vesper bell, window— that take new life in the pure language of the poem. Entities are called forth into presence, like the speaking that names the winter evening time. Not to be present amongst us now, however; naming ‘table’ in the poem does not place it in front of us in this room. Rather, the naming places entities into a gathering which is also a sheltering. The naming brings them to be. In an act of appropriation, things come to be purely as their own, unimpeded by a predetermined expectation. They are called to themselves into an arrival. In Being and Time (1962), Heidegger famously describes the movement between present-at-hand and ready-to-hand in his analysis of the hammer, and of equipment in general. This analysis is already known, if not always clear, to most readers of Heidegger. Briefly, a hammer is ordinarily zuhanden or ready-to-hand; it is part of the background of the world, equipment used and never thought about, like this desk, this sheet of paper, this room. Our interaction with it is temporary and it is historically different for each entity and each relation. We need a hammer, we use a hammer. If all goes according to plan, the hammer remains ready-to-hand; it remains, in a sense, undisclosed and certainly unobtrusive. Our world is undisturbed by the hammer. Only when the hammer or the car or the computer is broken (or sometimes unused or unrecognized or missing) does it intrude into our world, become conspicuous as an object present-at-hand, or vorhanden . In this case, we reach for the hammer, it is broken and we suddenly notice it’s being, broken though it is. The thing which was always ready to hand—handy—is suddenly abstract, something to be examined, if only in its absence or disfunction. This can be exhibited for all entities, and it is important to note that in this analysis the zuhanden / vorhanden split is not restricted to a specific form of constructed material; zuhanden does not refer to the car, and vorhanden the sunset. No entity is ever exclusively ready-to-hand or present-at-hand; they are instead, interpenetrated with each others mode of being, one informing the other in a way that both brings things forth into the world—discloses is the word Heidegger chooses—and at the same time conceals them. As one mode is coming to be so another mode is withdrawing. This flux and movement between modes is precisely what brings the world forward, and what makes it manifest. It exists beyond where we tread and before man took dubious control of the world. We go to find a book or turn on the computer and it is missing or broken and we become aware of the object, as though for the first time. We walk to the water to glimpse the sunset and miss it, or it is less than stellar; in the sunset’s grayness, we become aware of it’s being sunset. The thing is disclosed in its withdrawal. Echoing Heraclitus, we can say that as something is coming to be, it is already becoming something other. Of similar importance to the fact that things are never all of one, or all of the other, they are also never alone. The hammer is never a single object, but is in relation always to the whole. Heidegger (1962) states, Equipment—in accordance with its equipmentality—always is in terms of its belonging to other equipment: ink-stand, pen, ink, paper, blotting pad, table, lamp, furniture, windows, doors, room. These ‘Things’ never show themselves proximally as they are for themselves…What we encounter as closest to us…is the room; and we encounter it not as something ‘between four walls’ in a geometrical, spatial sense, but as equipment for residing…it is in this that any ‘individual’ item of equipment shows itself. Before its does so, a totality of equipment has already been discovered (97). Equipment resides—dwells—in its relations, in its proximal being to other beings. Within the structure of totality, a series of relations is always occurring. The hammer is on the workbench in the carpenter’s hand in the workshop in the village under the sky and under the sun. It doesn’t stop there. Equipment surrounds us and the focus is not on what it does, or what one does with it—the carpenter with the hammer, the writer with laptop—but with the fact that it is. Equipment occurs in relation and is always occurring around us overhead, underfoot, by the stream and in the city. There is a constant exchange of relations happening, and as this occurs, so the world occurs, so the world both discloses and withdraws, into and out of itself. In a very real sense, language is also equipment. It is the thing that we use most often without thought, it is ready-to-hand (except when it’s not.) As we re- cognize the world around us, as we offer names for things and make lists, we are using language much like we might use a hammer, that is, bluntly. Most of the time it is invisible and we draw on it without wondering how we are going to say something. When language does intrude, it does so in an awkward moment, that moment when we can’t remember the right word, when we forget a phrase. At that second, it “speaks itself as language,” it reveals itself as malfunctioning equipment, and we “undergo” an experience with language, in Heidegger’s famous formulation. Language is not a tool anymore that we use to bludgeon an object, but something instead that we submit to, that we experience. In “The Nature of Language,” Heidegger (1982) writes, But when does language speak to us as language? Curiously enough, when we cannot find the right word for something that concerns us, carries us away, oppresses or encourages us. Then we leave unspoken what we have in mind and, without rightly giving it a thought, undergo moments in which language itself has distantly and fleetingly touched us with its essential being (59). The poet’s words become themselves, become appropriate, only when they no longer function in the prosaic world; they instead intrude as they come to be. Language itself brings itself to language. Names, like the entities they indicate, are always becoming something else. As noted above, language, through the poet, has brought forth entities from words previously “known.” I thought that I knew snow, but through Trakl’s re- presentation of the word, language calls forth a new image of snow, indeed calls forth snow itself. The vesper bell tolls longer, the table is for many laid. In bringing forth things , language has brought the world to presence. In everyday naming, word occludes world, preventing, in its everydayness, its coming forth, its disclosing. But what is this world that word has been brought forth into? In the same way that language speaks, world worlds. World, left alone, un-interfered with, comes into itself. It worlds. Again, this sounds like a tautology, but it is essential to Heidegger’s thought (and in my mind is more of a “god killer” than Nietzsche.) One of the most overlooked (and under-appreciated) aspects of Heidegger is his later examination and enthusiasm for the “fourfold,” or the system through which things come to be, through which things thing in a world worlding. The fourfold is the interaction of earth and sky, mortals and gods. Things come to be in the interstices and gathering of the fourfold. The fourfold provides both a place of being, and a sheltering, a place to dwell. Heidegger writes that “the things that were named, thus called, gather to themselves sky and earth, mortals and divinities. The four are united primally in being toward one another, a fourfold.” The poet has called, through the act of pure naming, things to come forth. In the purity of the fourfold—that is, when that is all that there is, when there are no other distractions, definitions, things—entities themselves can come to be. It is important to note that Heidegger is not saying that there are four formal things in the world, autonomous entities unto themselves. He is not evoking a pre-Socratic formula as to what makes up the world; instead, the four mirror each other constantly. (Heidegger calls this the ‘mirror-play.’) They interpenetrate in the same way that the modes of being of things interpenetrate themselves. There is no discrete exclusivity in being or the fourfold. What makes up things is not a precise recipe of the four main components; what makes up things is the action of the fourfold coming together, the movement of the fourfold which is a becoming. Heidegger (2001) writes that “this gathering, assembling, letting stay is the thinging of things.” And he later adds that “thinging, things are things. Thinging, they gesture—gestate—world” (197). Language brings the world to be. It works not again as a recipe added to things, but instead it is a bridge, or more precisely, a relation. Language relates world to thing, brings world to thing. In a sense, it does not say anything; rather it allows, or calls in its movement. Heidegger (2001) writes that, The intimacy of world and thing is not a fusion. Intimacy obtains only where the intimate—world and thing—divides itself cleanly and remains separated. In the midst of the two, in the between of world and thing, in their inter, division prevails: a dif-ference (199). It is in this inter that language prevails. Language is difference, it is the differential aspect between world and thing that brings world to thing. In the final stanza of Trakl’s poem “The Winter Evening,” Trakl evokes this difference in the second line when he writes, “Pain has turned the threshold to stone.” Christopher Fynsk, in his essay “Noise at the Threshold,” draws attention to this point when he writes “it is the figure of the threshold that is language itself, inasmuch as language is defined as the articulation of difference by which difference comes about” (25). Language, as used in the pure language of the poem, draws together world and thing, bridging relation between entity and world. The calling of language calls world to thing, world to being. Heidegger (2001) describes this difference as unique; “of itself, it holds apart the middle in and through which world and things are at one with each other” (200). III. Neither reading nor writing, nor speaking—and yet it is by those paths that we escape what has been said already, and knowledge, and reciprocity, and enter the unknown space, the space of distress where what is given is perhaps not received by anyone (99). Maurice Blanchot The Writing of Disaster So far, we have allowed Heidegger to put forward what language does, how it functions as a relation and how it operates as a threshold, as a bridge. What interests me is what happens beyond language, beyond the relation. What happens to the thing without the naming, without the poet, or even without the everyday chatter—Fynsk calls this ‘noise’—intruding on being? If language allows things to become by bringing thing to world, what happens when we remove this bringing, this threshold turned to pain? In “The Nature of Language,” Heidegger examines the work of the poet Stefan George, specifically “The Word”: Wonder or dream from distant land I carried to my county’s strand And waited till the twilight norn Had found the name within her bourn— Then I could grasp it close and strong It blooms and shines now the front along… Once I returned from happy sail, I had a prize so rich and frail, She sought for long and tidings told: “No like of these depths unfold.” And straight it vanished from my hand, The treasure never graced my land… So I renounced and sadly see: Where word breaks off no thing may be. That final line, “Where word breaks off no thing may be” is evoked on nearly every page of Heidegger’s essay. It is the line to which he returns over and over and bears repeating. Where word breaks off no thing may be. Where naming ends, no thing. We can interpret this in two ways (at least.) Where word—naming—breaks off, then there is nothing . Or, as I choose to read it, where word breaks off no thing may be. In this I see a hint forward, a marker left behind by Heidegger. What could this look like? What does no thing look like? Like a zen koan ( there is no mirror ) it is as thrilling and horrifying as contemplating what preceded the Big Bang. Because language as naming wasn’t always here; we weren’t always here. One or maybe two aspects of the fourfold (depending on your view of gods) were not always here, and there is no guarantee that we will always be around. What then? Heidegger (1982) describes the landscape that the poet finds, “It names the realm into which the renunciation must enter: it names the call to enter into that relation between thing and word which has now been experienced” (65). The poet, in renouncing, allows for the “may be” of “where word breaks off no thing may be.” This “may be” becomes “a kind of imperative, a command which the poet follows, to keep it from then on.” No thing is lacking. Where word breaks off, there may be, a totality, a completion. If we place the emphasis on may be , we make it affirmative, make it positive. One allows it. No thing is where the word, that is the name, is lacking. If we remove then (if we can remove) the word, the name, than that is where no thing is, that is where no thing may blossom, enrich, belong, become. What is no thing? Heidegger writes that “thing is anything that in any way is.” And just after this he writes that the “world alone gives being to the thing.” But what happens if there is no word? Word, in this formulation can be seen as an enframing, a challenging of language. By naming, by drawing a perimeter around an object, we hold it, by its definition (that is a brick) to an ordered future. If we borrow from Heidegger’s essay “The Question Concerning Technology” (1993) the idea of this standing-reserve of an ordered future, we see that “everywhere everything is ordered to stand by, to be immediately on hand, indeed to stand there just so that it may be on call for a further ordering” (322). What happens if there is no naming of the thing? Silence perhaps. Stillness. We can name—and do name—that which we know. We equate knowledge with knowing the name of something. A brick is a brick, a hammer is a hammer, the universe is the universe. By naming a thing, we create, and draw its parameters, the parameters of the thing, not as thing thinging in the fourfold, but as blunt object apparent. In the four dimensions relatively available to us, we observe (and name) that the brick takes up possibly six by four by two inches and is, in the sense that it currently occupies this time slot. It fulfills its destiny, its being, its brickness, it bricks . But what happens when we remove the name for this brick. We no longer know what to call this no-thing (if indeed we can even arrive at the point of uncalled calling.) In fact the it (this brick) is no longer a thing in the sense that by not naming—by removing the name—it still occupies the same dimension but is indiscernible from the world. It simply is , un-reliant, un- needed by me. By removing the subject (me) from it (the brick) do I not then also remove the object—or at least the duality objectifying it? Why is this important? Why does this matter? I have not really removed anything. I have not changed any thing , per se . The brick still occupies the same space in geographic and temporal dimensions. I have literally not even touched the brick sitting on my desk. But what I have done is removed the name, removed the word (the bridge, according to Heidegger) and in this (again, if this is even possible) there is something vertiginously liberating, not only for me (and my way of thinking) but also for the brick itself. Like the poet who calls the thing forward, by refusing to name, by avoiding any thing that demands me to name it, I release the thing into the fourfold. I am no longer challenging the thing to be there for me ; I do not en frame it through language. Rather I, in an act of extreme responsibility, am refusing the challenge. By refusing the name (refusing to name) one allows, (or no one allows no thing) the brick to be all things , to manifest its manifold being, to incorporate all things into its thinging . It becomes, quite literally, every thing . Because, in its infinite manifestness, it incorporates everything; the mud that gave it its current being, the water that formed the mud, the sun, the stars, the universe and it also allows it to become mud again, to become landfill, to become again, water and sun and stars and universe in an endless, infinite cycle of coming to be some thing (else). Perhaps this is what Heidegger is suggesting when he talks about the stillness at the end of his essay, “Language” (2001): The dif-ference stills particularly in two ways: it stills the things in thinging and the world in worlding. Thus stilled, thing and world never escape from the dif-ference. Rather, they rescue it in the stilling, where the dif-ference is itself the stillness (206). It is in this stillness that I can imagine a gellasenheit (here I mean both “releasement in the Heideggarean sense, as well as Meister Eckhart’s use of the term meaning “letting the world go and giving oneself to God”) of thing and world, a releasing into the stillness and silence of no thing beyond where word breaks off. It is here where I may no longer be, and yet no thing is, but may be. (shrink)

This article is about reconciliation, not only in the biblical and classical sense of the term, but also as an answer to tensions in our multicultural society. First the many meanings of the word reconciliation are explored. The core meaning is the restoration of a troubled relationship. In the first part of the article the interaction between God and his people resulting in reconciliation, as described in Holy Scripture, is picted and reviewed in the light of the divine priority in (...) biblical covenant and the autonomy of modern man. In the second part, an attempt is made to apply insights into biblical reconciliation to conflicts between people in modern, terror stricken society. Is it realistic to expect, that theological discussions on reconciliation can have a bearing on the solution of conflicts in our days? The terms substitute and mediator, that play an important role in classical theological reconciliation theories, are analyzed in view of their applicability in present-day conflicts. (shrink)

In 1985, German sociologist Niklas Luhmann published a monograph on ecology, which appeared in English translation in 1989 as Ecological Communication. It contained many original insights for ecological thinking and, despite being well-reviewed upon publication, has had a relatively minor impact on Anglophone environmental discourse. This inattention is also present in environmental law, which has recently seen an increase in legal theories that challenge its mainstream. This contribution first investigates why Ecological Communication has received scant attention, pointing to changes in (...) the climatic context in which it first appeared and the reactionary nature of its arguments. Recognising that the work nevertheless contains critical theoretical insights for environmental law scholarship, the second aim of the article is to spotlight what from Ecological Communication remains relevant at the hand of three common claims progressive researchers level against mainstream environmental law: The critique of law's marriage to Cartesian dualism, that law should be better informed by climate science,of and law's anthropocentrism. Finally, environmental lawyers are called upon not to ignore Ecological Communication but to engage with it fruitfully. (shrink)

Highly divergent accounts exist of the nature of emotional feelings. Following Lambie and Marcel (2002), that divergence is traced back to actual differences in experience that result from variations in the involvement and direction of attention during emotions. The dimensions of variation include first versus second order experience, world- versus self-focus, appraisal or action-readiness focus, and attention mode (synthetic-analytic, immersed-detached). It is argued that the most characteristic form during actual emotional events consists of the more or less immersed and synthetic (...) perception of an emotionally meaningful world or of oneself as emotionally meaningful. Meaning consists of perceived qualities that represent appraisal and action readiness. Although information from one's body is central for all emotion experience, it is not central in all emotion experience. Feeling of the body in a particular state represents detached analytic self-focused awareness only.Emotion experience not only represents a perspective on emotional reactions but also contributes to the constitution of those reactions, notably with respect to attention shifts, action initiation and action guidance, and emotion regulation. It is a major factor in constituting a representation of “self” and in establishing social coherence. (shrink)

Series: Studies in Theology and Religion (STAR), Am 15. April 1799 beendete Friedrich Schleiermacher seine "Reden über die Religion". Die rhetorisch und stilistisch sehr geschickt verfasste (und anonym veröffentlichte) Erstlingsschrift des später berühmten Predigers, Universitätsprofessors und Schriftstellers hat bis heute ihre Anziehungkraft behalten. Aus Anlass der Zweihundertjahrfeier hat die Niederländische Forschungsgesellschaft für Theologie und Religionswissenschaften (NOSTER) zusammen mit der Theologischen Fakultät Tilburg einen Studientag veranstaltet. Zwei Ziele wurden dabei verfolgt: erstens die Situierung der "Reden" in ihrer Entstehungszeit und in der (...) heutigen Zeit sowie zweitens die systematisch-theologische Vertiefung zentraler Themen der "Reden", Schleiermachers Verständnis der Religion in der 2. Rede und seine Christologie in der 5. Rede. Dieser Band enthält die Beiträge zu dieser Tagung und ein Protokoll der spannungsreichen Diskussion, verfasst von Nico Schreurs (Tilburg), das auf viele Forschungsergebnisse und Forschungsdesiderate hinweist. Die Beiträge stammen von Günter Meckenstock, Herausgeber der Kritischen Schleiermacherausgabe und renommierter Kenner der historischen Lage um 1800, Ad Willems, Übersetzer der "Reden" ins Niederländische, Christian Albrecht (Tübingen, jetzt Bochum) und Claus-Dieter Osthövener (Halle an der Saale). Inhalt Die Aufnahme der "Reden" in Schleiermachers Zeitgenossenschaft Günter Meckenstock Zur Aktualität von Schleiermachers "Reden" aus dem Jahre 1799: Ein kontextueller Deutungsversuch Ad Willems Die Ermöglichung von Korrelativität: Religion als "Anschauung und Gefühl" in Schleiermachers zweiter Rede Christian Albrecht Die Christologie der "Reden" Claus-Dieter Osthövener Religion als Ausdruck des gestimmten Gefühls: Schleiermachers. Sicht der religiösen Erfahrung in den "Reden" Wessel Stoker "... etwas ausser und über der Menschheit... " Schleiermachers Religionsbegriff in den "Reden". Postmodernismus avant la lettre? Dick Boer Die Präsenz Spinozas in Schleiermachers "Reden" Rinse Reeling Brouwer Von einer romantischen hin zu einer transzendental-philosophischen Bewusstseinstheorie Jacques Laurent Das Tilburger Symposium über Schleiermachers "Reden" Protokoll der Diskussion Nico Schreurs NAMENREGISTER. (shrink)