Developments in uterus transplant put assisted gestation within meaningful range of clinical success for women with uterine infertility who want to gestate children. Should this kind of transplantation prove routine and effective for those women, would there be any morally significant reason why men or transgender women should not be eligible for the same opportunity for gestation? Getting to the point of safe and effective uterus transplantation for those parties would require a focused line of research, over and (...) above the study of uterus transplantation for non-transgender women. Some commentators object to the idea that the state has any duty to sponsor research of this kind. They would limit all publicly-funded fertility research to sex-typical ways of having children, which they construe as the basis of reproductive rights. This objection has no force against privately-funded research, of course, and in any case not all social expenditures are responses to ‘rights’ properly speaking. Another possible objection raised against gestation by transgender women is that it could alter the social meaning of sexed bodies. This line of argument fails, however, to substantiate a meaningful objection to gestation by transgender women because social meanings of sexed bodies do not remain constant and because the change in this case would not elicit social effects significant enough to justify closing off gestation to transgender women as a class. (shrink)

Developments in uterus transplant put assisted gestation within meaningful range of clinical success for women with uterine infertility who want to gestate children. Should this kind of transplantation prove routine and effective for those women, would there be any morally significant reason why men or transgender women should not be eligible for the same opportunity for gestation? Getting to the point of safe and effective uterus transplantation for those parties would require a focused line of research, over and (...) above the study of uterus transplantation for non-transgender women. Some commentators object to the idea that the state has any duty to sponsor research of this kind. They would limit all publicly-funded fertility research to sex-typical ways of having children, which they construe as the basis of reproductive rights. This objection has no force against privately-funded research, of course, and in any case not all social expenditures are responses to ‘rights’ properly speaking. Another possible objection raised against gestation by transgender women is that it could alter the social meaning of sexed bodies. This line of argument fails, however, to substantiate a meaningful objection to gestation by transgender women because social meanings of sexed bodies do not remain constant and because the change in this case would not elicit social effects significant enough to justify closing off gestation to transgender women as a class. (shrink)

From Leibniz and Georg Ernst Stahl to Albrecht von Haller, Germans of the eighteenth century calved off an experimental physiology from medicine and made this research a centerpiece of their new model university, first under Haller at Göttingen, then under von Humboldt at Berlin. Haller made Göttingen the most important center for the advancement of Enlightenment science in Germany, but that is not where Johann Herder went looking for new ideas in psychology, turning instead to France, avidly studying Condillac and (...) Diderot, and meeting the latter in Paris in 1769. Herder wanted to use French psychology in his theory of how the history of art recapitulates the development of the senses. To work out his ideas he found it necessary to ignore Kant's careful distinction between life and matter. Kant made life an inexplicable boundary for mechanical explanation, though with Herder it became the key concept for interpreting nature. That all the forces in the physical world are held to express one organizing, integrating vital principle is what excited Goethe about Herder's work and provoked the Naturphilosophie that Schelling invented at this time in close collaboration with Goethe. (shrink)

In this article, I urge that mainstream discussions of abortion are dissatisfying in large part because they proceed in polite abstraction from the distinctive circumstances and meanings of gestation. Such discussions, in fact, apply to abortion conceptual tools that were designed on the premiss that people are physically demarcated, even as gestation is marked by a thorough-going intertwinement. We cannot fully appreciate what is normatively at stake with legally forcing continued gestation, or again how to discuss moral (...) responsibilities to continue gestating, until we appreciate in their own terms the goods and evils distinctive of gestational connection. To underscore the need to explore further the meanings of gestation, I provide two examples of the difference it might make to legal and moral discussions of abortion if we appreciate more fully that gestation is an intimacy. (shrink)

In 1971, two years before Roe v. Wade affirmed federal protection for abortion, Judith Jarvis Thomson attempted to demonstrate the wrongs of forced gestation through analogy: you awake to find that the world's most esteemed violinist is wholly, physically dependent on you for life support. Here, the authors suggest that Thomson's intuition, that there is a relevant similarity between providing living kidney support and forced gestation, is realized in the contemporary practice of living organ donation. After (...) detailing the robust analogy between living kidney donation and gestation, we turn to current ethical guidelines incorporated in the United Network for Organ Sharing's requirements for legally authorized organ donation and transplantation. We conclude that if, as we—and Thomson—suggest, organ donation and gestation are relevantly similar, then the ethical framework supporting donation may aid in articulating ethical grounds that will be compelling in informing the legal grounds for a defense of abortion. (shrink)

An oasis of authorized criticism in the 1960s and the 1970s, and a privileged public arena for ‘extreme non-conformist’ intellectuals in the same period, ecology was also the matrix for the national movements which precipitated the end of the decaying party-state at the end of the 1980s and which had been in gestation since the late 1960s. Ideal metaphor for the fall of a system emblematized by the catastrophe at Chernobyl (April 1986), the ecological crisis - the crisis in (...) the relationship between nature and urban space - made it possible to understand the full extent of the post-war upheavals that had taken place at the heart of Soviet society. The rapid, huge-scale industrialization and urbanization of the country had produced a new educated middle class of ‘specialists’ (technicians, engineers, applied research managers, economists and administrators, and so on), which in the early 1960s constituted the hard core of the first generation of Soviets to be a majority of urban-dwellers. If it was not embodied, as in Western countries, in political movements or parties, the ecological cause was no less institutionalized. The horticultural societies (tovariscestva) on the edge of towns (ogorodniki), the ‘nature protection brigades’ which organized reafforestation campaigns (DOP), the Society for the Protection of Nature (VOOP), or local historical and ethnographical societies (kraevedenie) had a considerable number of supporters. It allowed the expression of a very extensive range of individual and collective sentiments, and of reactions both rejecting and adapting to a radically new natural, social and cultural environment - that of the town and a larger community. For a disorientated society, it was a question of re-appropriating its immediate, daily environment, of attempting to impose, individually or collectively, meaning on its existence and its social trajectory. Ecological sentiment was thus intimately bound up with the emergence of an ‘urban civilization’ in the Soviet Union under Brezhnev. (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)

Euthanasie, gestation pour autrui, excision, prostitution, légalisation du cannabis, peine de mort, corrida, consommation de viande, immigration, fiscalité... Qu'ils prennent l'aspect de discordes ponctuelles ou de polémiques récurrentes, qu'ils donnent lieu à des délibérations policées ou à des explosions de violence, les désaccords moraux ne cessent d'irriguer, d'enflammer et de fissurer la sphère publique. En éveillant la stupéfaction ou l'indignation, ils entraînent dans leur sillage des collisions au sein d'un espace commun, d'intenses clivages entre des individus ou des groupes (...) qui se perçoivent tour à tour comme des contradicteurs, des adversaires ou des ennemis. Mais quelles sont donc les sources des désaccords moraux? Quelles sont les formes et les forces qui les animent? Quels sont les cheminements qui mènent à leur éclosion, leur extension ou leur extinction? Et comment remédier aux fractures qu'ils provoquent, sans pour autant imposer des dogmes (absolutisme) ni renoncer au discours critique (relativisme)? Telles sont les questions auxquelles ce livre s'efforcera de répondre. Il s'agira ici de conduire une enquête qui s'appuiera tout particulièrement sur la philosophie pragmatiste, les sciences cognitives et les sciences sociales. L'enjeu, - dès- lors, consistera à équilibrer deux exigences : d'une part, encadrer les désaccords moraux afin d'éviter l'infinie prolifération des conflits, et d'autre part, promouvoir leur expression publique dans une perspective résolument pluraliste."--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

Le souvenir ajoute au temps une mémoire et une gestation. Il dispose à un retour sur le réel et double l'existence d'images inactuelles - suscitées parfois par le présent - comme chez Proust. Deux intuitions président à ce livre : le souvenir recèle un sens qui excédait les choses vécues sous la modalité du présent, et il organise une vision du monde qui s'oppose à l'idée d'une temporalité décadente. L'excédent porté par le souvenir suppose une dimension inassouvie du temps, (...) dès lors doté d'une force motrice, créatrice - et sans doute émancipatrice."--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

Lange argues that the gestationalist approach to moral parenthood fails due to its implausible reliance on a ‘valuable intimate personal relationship between newborn and gestational procreator’ at birth.1 However, his dismissal of the moral significance of the maternal–fetal connection depends largely on inappropriate analogies to other forms of relationship. Further, Lange targets a very specific framing of the gestationalist view, overlooking the significance that many gestationalist accounts grant to maternal interests and experiences. Finally—perhaps due to this asymmetric focus—the version of (...) the Harm Argument with which he engages also fails to recognise as morally significant the harm of forced separation for parents (and especially gestational mothers). When investigating the purported value of the maternal–newborn relationship, Lange argues (plausibly) that the newborn’s experiences are so limited as to cast doubt on the non-instrumental value of this relationship for the newborn, and on the likelihood of harm to the newborn as a result of the interruption of this relationship. However, Lange grants little significance to the gestational mother’s experience of this relationship or her affect towards the fetus/newborn. He does not engage with literature on the epistemically transformative experience of pregnancy,2 nor, strikingly, does he discuss the possible significance of maternal love at birth. In fact, his paper mentions …. (shrink)

Some people oppose abortion on the grounds that fetuses have full moral status and thus a right to not be killed. We argue that special obligations that hold between mother and fetus also hold between parents and their children. We argue that if these special obligations necessitate the sacrifice of bodily autonomy in the case of abortion, then they also necessitate the sacrifice of bodily autonomy in the case of organ donation. If we accept the argument that it is obligatory (...) to override a woman’s bodily autonomy for the sake of an unborn child’s survival, we must continue to override the bodily autonomy of parents to ensure the survival of their living children, until the parent no longer has a special obligation to their child to the same degree as their special obligation to the fetus. And if the life of a child is truly more important than the bodily autonomy of its parents, as must be the case to force women to carry unwanted pregnancies to term, this should remain true until such a time that their children are no longer considered their responsibility. Thus, parity of reasoning suggests that policies compelling the gestation of a fetus should be accompanied by policies compelling organ donation. (shrink)

In this essay, I argue that pronatalism—a social bias in favor of gestational motherhood—and geneticism—a social bias in favor of genetic motherhood—are conceptually and operationally distinct social forces that influence some women's reproductive decision making. Each of these social forces shapes the reproductive landscape, relates differently to women's identities, and causes different social stigmatization and harm. Pronatalism and geneticism warrant feminist concern because they can compromise some women's reproductive autonomy and well-being. I suggest that combating pronatalism and geneticism will require (...) different sets of media, policy, education, and health care practice strategies. (shrink)

Currently, abortion can be lawfully performed in China at any gestational stage for a wide range of social and medical reasons. I critically explore the Chinese regulatory model of abortion in order to examine its practical effects on women. Although I focus on the post-Maoist abortion law, I also analyse the imperial Confucianism-dominated regulation and the Maoist ban on abortion in order to scrutinise the emergence of the notion of ‘glorious motherhood’. By examining how ‘glorious motherhood’ is constructed and reinforced (...) in the Chinese family planning context, I argue that the post-Maoist government intentionally made abortion ‘law in the books’ unrestrictive in order to impose its control over female fertility. As a result of this, women are persuaded and even forced to lead a ‘glorious’ maternal life, which means sacrificing themselves for the purpose of achieving the state’s Malthusian and eugenic demographic goals. Furthermore, I argue that, in addition to exacerbating gender oppression, abortion law’s embrace of the idea of ‘glorious motherhood’ also produces ‘group oppression’ of unmarried women and working-class women. (shrink)

We argue that strong moral objections to widespread implementation of uterine transplantation persist despite recent live births following the procedure. These objections relate not only to the serious medical risk to which live donors are currently subject but also to the strength of pronatalistic and biologistic social forces. We explore medical risk in light of various factors and treat questions relating uterine transplantation to gestational surrogacy.

La période du « sacre de l’écrivain » (P. Bénichou) a vu s’imposer une théorie de l’écriture inspirée qui converge autour du thème de l’androgynie du créateur. Dans ce contexte la métaphore, chez les écrivains hommes, d’une « conception », d’une « gestation » et d’un « engendrement » de l’œuvre prend une force nouvelle. Cette production de l’androgyne en soi-même s’est appuyée sur des expériences et des parcours capables de favoriser une telle métamorphose. L’article définit quatre « figures (...) biographiques », formant une sorte de matrice logique, qui, de 1800 à 1930, sont venues offrir une médiation imaginaire vers l’androgynat créateur : la relation frère-soeur, l’hystérie masculine, l’homosexualité, l’amour fou. En conclusion est posée la question du rapport des femmes écrivains à ces modèles de vie et d’écriture « inspirées ». (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Procreative Liberty, Biological Connections, and MotherhoodMargaret Olivia Little (bio)Given the complex and dramatic array of issues currently facing us in reproductive ethics, bioethicists working on the topic might be forgiven feelings of trepidation when they cast their minds toward the next century. Currently, technologies such as artificial insemination by donor (AID), once the source of intense controversy, are used on a routine basis; mainstream newspapers carry advertisements offering “excellent (...) compensation” to ova “donors;” courts are arguing whether women who serve as gestational or “surrogate” mothers have any parental rights; and proposals resurface to jail pregnant women who take street drugs. Sorting out which developments are to be welcomed and which are to be resisted—and why—will require us not only to clarify some of our most basic value commitments, but also to reflect on our understanding of concepts, such as motherhood, that we previously had the luxury of thinking obvious. Let me highlight two issues I think we will be forced to confront as we try to navigate the ethics of reproduction into the twenty-first century—namely, the value of biological connection and the meaning of motherhood.Procreative Liberty and the Value of Biological ReproductionPeople who are unable to conceive a child or to carry one to term now face a variety of extraordinary means of procreative assistance: they can buy sperm and ova, undergo in vitro fertilization, or contract another woman to gestate and give birth to the baby. Those who are enthusiastic about these new technologies [End Page 392] and arrangements often explain their support in terms of many people’s deep desire or even right to bear children biologically related to them; those who are suspicious of the techniques often explain their resistance by criticizing our culture’s “pronatalist” emphasis on biological rather than social relations with children. Focusing on such clear-cut positions, though, undersells the complexity and difficulty of the issues involved. Few want to dismiss altogether the importance of biological connection; but the question remains, what measure of importance should it be granted? Or again, while most agree that procreative liberty is one of our most fundamental rights, the question remains, whose procreation, in what context, and by which means? The truly difficult questions, that is, pertain to how we are to value biological relatedness and how we are to draw the contours of procreative liberty.One perspective emerging in current debates urges an expansive answer to these questions, arguing that the new reproductive technologies and arrangements deserve constitutional protection. Procreative liberty is deeply important, it is urged, given how fundamental the decision to have or to refrain from having children is to our sense of dignity, identity, and meaning of life. But if we recognize a right to reproduce coitally, it is claimed, we should also recognize a right to reproduce noncoitally: people with infertile partners should no more be barred from exercising their right to “beget, bear, and raise” children biologically linked to them by using surrogate arrangements or AID than those who are blind should be barred from exercising their right to written information by using Braille texts. 1The fundamental question is whether the value of biological reproduction persists when pursued outside of the intimacies of marriage and family that form its traditional home. The new reproductive technologies and arrangements, after all, represent a departure not simply because they are noncoital but because they involve reproduction with strangers, under contract, and for pay. One question that demands our reflection, then, is whether the procreative liberty we value attaches to individuals atomistically, as it were, or to individuals only insofar as they are in relationships of an intimate and ongoing nature.Other developments on the horizon sound a restrictive note about procreative liberty. Many IVF clinics, for instance, have denied services to would-be single parents or to gay or lesbian couples. Some legislators have proposed making certain welfare payments for women conditional upon their use of contraceptives such as Norplant—an odd view if one regards procreative liberty as a fundamental right. After all, we do not usually make the receipt of public aid contingent on waiving a constitutional right. (Imagine the government stipulating that... (shrink)

The 2004 Canadian Assisted Human Reproduction Act bans commercial contract pregnancy and egg provision, but Canadians undertake cross-border reproductive travel to access these services. Feminist bioethicists have argued that the ethical justification for enforcing the ban domestically, namely exploitation, grounds its extraterritorial enforcement. I raise an additional problem when Global Southern or low-income countries are destinations for travel: neocolonialism. Further, I argue that a ban on commercialized reproduction is problematic. Although well-suited to address neocolonial forces of exploitation and commodification, a (...) ban reinforces neocolonialism by paying insufficient attention to the agency of gestational laborers and egg providers. (shrink)

Breastfeeding is analogous to pregnancy as an experience, in its exclusiveness to women, and in its cost and the effects it has on equitable share of labor. Therefore, the history of formula feeding provides useful insights into the future of full ectogenesis, which could evolve into a more severe version of what formula feeding is today: simplify life for some women and provide couples with a more equitable share of work at the cost of stigma, guilt and a daily diet (...) of studies purporting to show the benefits of natural pregnancy. Making pregnancy an optional route to motherhood would make women's life trajectory more similar to men's and thus put pressure on women to compete with men on the ground shaped by men's preferences. Despite being a treasured experience of many women today, bearing children could become the luxury of the few, the province of the very poor and a choice working women will pay a high price for as women who choose pregnancy become stigmatized as self-indulgent or unprofessional and penalized for it in the workplace. At the same time, scarce societal resources that could be used to support pregnant women and working mothers would instead be directed toward proving to women or even forcing them to gestate children "the right way." While not necessarily threatening on its own, when added to formula feeding, IVF, stem-cell produced ova and sex robots, full ectogenesis could diminish men's stake in women's wellbeing and even existence. (shrink)

Four decades after the Baby M case that led to the prohibition of commercial surrogacy in New York, much has changed in the infertility industry. Advanced technologies including the advent of gestational carrier pregnancies had made it easier and more efficient to create IVF embryos at a distance and over time, accelerating a boom in cross-border, reproductive services and allowing compensated surrogacy to flourish in a growing number of surrogacy-friendly states and beyond. For international couples, the USA has become a (...) hot spot for “circumvention tourism” given its first-rate medical care, ample supply of willing gestational carriers, burgeoning interest in family building among gay couples, and immediate USA citizenship for the child. This commentary reviews selected sociocultural and global forces that helped set the stage for the passage of the Child-Parent Security Act in New York state in 2021, and the efforts by its opponents for stronger protections not only for gestational carriers, but for gamete donors and the donor-conceived offspring. I argue that despite more responsive medical and legal guidelines, the high market demand and economic profits, combined with the lack of regulatory teeth, faulty assumptions about health risks and decision-making autonomy, and inadequate research on long-term health outcomes, continue to make compensated gestational surrogacy in the state of New York a high-risk venture without adequate informed consent. Possible unintended consequences and future research questions are proposed. (shrink)

Late-term abortions are an issue of immense debate in India, where the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971 permits abortions only up to 20 weeks of gestation. In special situations, such as pregnancy arising out of rape especially in the case of minors and the late diagnosis of congenital anomalies, there are no clear guidelines on the legal protocol that is to be followed, often resulting in a lack of consistency in terms of legal decision-making, as well as undue (...) prolongation of legal procedures. The Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act prohibits late-term abortions on the basis of personhood and viability of the foetus, to reduce sex-selective abortions and as it considers such abortions to be unsafe. However, a legal prohibition of late-term abortions does not prevent them, and this has led to a surge in the number of illegal, unsafe abortions that are detrimental to the health of women. There is also physical, mental and financial distress to women who are forced to continue their pregnancy, coupled with a lack of governmental support for the same. In comparison of India’s abortion laws with Singapore’s, which are more liberal, and Philippines, which are more restrictive, liberalisation of abortion laws appears to have a better outcome in reducing the incidence of unsafe abortions. This paper argues that the way forward is to liberalise the laws in terms of not only extending the gestational limit to at least 24 weeks but also making exceptions allowing no gestational limit in special cases that warrant them, such as rape victims and late foetal anomalies. The laws, drafted and implemented in consultation with medical professionals in the field, must also be lucid and not leave any room for misinterpretation by courts and health care providers. (shrink)

Feminist scholars have done much to identify oppressive forces within transnational commercial contract pregnancy and its social context that may coerce women into becoming gestational laborers. Feminists have also been careful not to depict gestational laborers as merely passive victims of oppression, though there is disagreement about the degree to which contract pregnancy offers opportunities for agency. In this article I consider how women who sell gestational labor may be agents against their oppression. I make explicit connections between resistance and (...) judgment, which I will take to be a critically considered, intersubjective evaluative claim. Drawing on work by Jennifer Nedelsky and Hannah Arendt, my main argument will be that individual judgments can better enable oppressed persons to resist some aspects of their oppression, and that judgment helps to develop agential capacities, in particular, the capacity for a person to be self-constituting, to see herself as giving reasons for her own actions. I use Indian contract pregnancy as a case study to think through connections between resistance and judgment. (shrink)

The author's goal in this article is to develop an argument for why women should have a right to abortion-as-termination even if some form of ectogenesis is created. First, the author shows why ectogenesis as an alternative to abortion does not protect women's bodily autonomy because women are being forced to submit to coerced medical treatment and perform reproductive labor for others. Second, the author considers a further implication of her argument: If abortion-as-termination is kept, how far into (...) class='Hi'>gestation should this right extend? Third, and finally, the author considers whether people have the right to refuse genetic parenthood. (shrink)

Feminist bioethicists have long shed light on the indignities and injustice of reproductive intrusions, be they coerced gestation or forced interventions during pregnancy and birth. Writing about t...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction: Why Birth?Fanny SöderbäckWhen asked to put together a special international issue of philoSOPHIA, I was faced with the task of picking a topic that would touch and interest feminist scholars of all continents. Birth—and, by extension, pregnant embodiment, motherhood, reproductive technologies, a woman’s right to choose, and other related topics—stood out to me as an issue that has concerned, and that continues to concern, feminist thinkers from across (...) the world. Since Simone de Beauvoir’s early analysis and critique of patriarchy as a system that reduces women to mothers and confines them to the realm of reproduction, feminists have been wrestling with the question of whether birth and motherhood pose a threat to or promote women’s liberation. Many of the topics so pertinent to feminist debates—from emancipatory issues such as abortion rights, the right to work, and women’s health, to more conceptual concerns such as embodiment, desire, sexual difference, and female subjectivity—force us to return to the question of birth, and to what it means that women can, and do, give birth.It was only after I had settled on a topic and invited the six authors included here to contribute that I found out that I was pregnant with my first child. More than any scholarly project I have embarked on before, this one has, as a consequence, been deeply personal. For each step of the editorial process, for each new batch of drafts, peer reviews, discussions with authors, and copyedits, I have witnessed my body change, the baby growing and moving inside me, her little feet exploring my inside, her face looking back at me from ultrasound screens, her presence causing numbness in my hands, swelling in my feet, uncomfortable nights, and, of course, unprecedented joy and anticipation. I have negotiated my maternity leave, taken birthing classes, read books about breastfeeding and parenting, fought with obstetricians and resisted their [End Page 1] tendency to medicalize my experience, gone through phases of intense nesting, and faced fears and strengths I did not know I harbored. I have, in short, experienced some version of what generations of pregnant and birthing women have experienced before me, and yet for me it has all been new and unknown, frightening and exhilarating all at once.Never before have I been so acutely aware of the important role experience holds in feminist scholarship. If (male) philosophers for millennia have been concerned with death, and if death is the one event those writing about it have yet to experience, birth is perhaps the only experience we all—constitutively—share, insofar as we have all been born. And without resorting to biological determinism or heterosexism, it is worth noting that women have a special relationship to birth. Insofar as we live in a society that expects us to do so, we either give birth, choose not to give birth, or struggle to be able to give birth. As several of the essays included here will testify, each of these paths has become increasingly marked by technological advancements. In the first instance, every woman who gives birth has to respond to a series of wanted or unwanted technological interventions—or the lack thereof. From ultrasounds and genetic screenings to the possibility of inducing labor, giving surgical birth, and accessing various pain medicines during labor—or, as in the case of many nations in the developing world, the sometimes dire consequences that are the result of limited access to such technological-medical tools—pregnant women across the globe are in different ways shaped by the technology that accompanies their journey of gestation. In the second instance, the access to contraception and the victories won in the fight for abortion rights constitute a revolution in the lives of women—perhaps the most important of all gains that make up our emancipation. And finally, in the third instance, reproductive technologies have revolutionized our capacity not only to reproduce, but to do so later in life, outside of a heterosexual framework, and across national borders. Much of this can be framed as progress, but, as should be expected, these technological advancements not only force us to confront... (shrink)

This article discusses the issue of abortion in the context of the dispute between progressive and neoconservative political forces in Brazil. The article analyses ADPF 442, a legal instrument known as a Motion of Noncompliance with a Fundamental Precept, which was lodged with the Supreme Court as part of a feminist litigation strategy in the country. The motion calls for the Supreme Court to decide on the constitutionality of the decriminalisation of abortion within the first 12 weeks of gestation. (...) Methodologically, the analysis combines a literature review with participant observation and corpus linguistics analysis. ADPF 442 is considered a key event in the use of judicialisation to voice demands for women’s rights in current-day Brazil, and this work examines the testimonies as representative of the discourse and strategies at play in the broader field of abortion and its major actors, both for and against its decriminalisation. (shrink)

A new biography of one of the founding fathers of the Scientific Revolution, Robert Boyle, is no easy undertaking, but no scholar is better poised to give us a revisionist view of this iconic figure than Michael Hunter. For fourteen years Hunter, together with Edward Davis, supervised the definitive fourteen‐volume edition of Boyle's complete works, published and unpublished. This was the first such undertaking since the 1744 edition compiled by the cleric and antiquary Thomas Birch. Almost no Boyle scholar has (...) been as privileged—or as dogged—in probing every bit of Boyle's legendary scribblings as Hunter. With his new biography, which gestated for decades and reflects the accumulating wisdom gained only with disciplined, persistent, and wide‐ranging reading, Hunter has shed new light on Boyle's life and character. Specialists will delight in having Hunter's path‐breaking articles gathered together in one volume from journals as far ranging as the Journal of Ecclesiastical History and Medical History to the more standard venues of the profession.Which Boyle have historians of early modern science more recently encountered, and how does Hunter's book enhance or change our understanding? Richard S. Westfall and Marie Boas Hall produced portraits of Boyle as a bona fide, uncomplicated mechanist devoted to testing his view of the universe by frequent experimentation. Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer in their Leviathan and the Air‐Pump set the stage for a more complex version of Boyle. They portrayed him as a consummate strategist who craftily used his experimental philosophy to serve his own conservative political and social agendas. Shapin's more recent A Social History of Truth claimed that Boyle relied heavily on his social status to carefully craft his public image as a gentleman in order to gain credibility and trust from his audiences. Lawrence Principe in his Aspiring Adept: Robert Boyle and His Alchemical Quest has shown us a Boyle who was passionately committed to alchemy and fascinated by, if fearful of, magic. Barbara Kaplan in her Divulging of Useful Truths in Physick emphasized Boyle's long‐standing interests in medical issues and medical practices.What sort of Boyle does Hunter offer his audience, and how has his high place in Boyle scholarship enabled him to present such a novel interpretation? Hunter shows us a Boyle whose fully complex personality directly contributed to, and thwarted, his scientific production as an experimenter. Hunter's analysis is not deeply seated in psychoanalytical theory but, rather, emerges from a fine‐grained analysis of Boyle's intense religious preoccupations. In the case of Boyle, Hunter argues, earlier eighteenth‐century biographers—including Gilbert Burnet, Roger North, Henry Miles, and William Wooton—produced adulation for a figure whose deep religiosity enhanced his scientific endeavors. Rather than casting his lot with contemporaries who sought a conservative solution to church and state relations after 1660, Boyle had troubling religious preoccupations so that things for him were not so simple, as Hunter shows. Indeed, Boyle befriended and associated with men who were openly acknowledged as mystics and enthusiasts and never allied himself exclusively—or even primarily—with Church of England spokesmen or ecclesiastics. Moreover, Hunter argues, Boyle felt more acutely aware of the dangers of excessive rationalism than he did of the claims of direct divine inspiration. Boyle's religious anxieties, far from mere youthful preoccupations, plagued him throughout his lifetime. Hunter reproduces Boyle's notes on two full confessional interviews he had with two prominent churchmen toward the end of his life. The two churchmen, Gilbert Burnet and Edward Stillingfleet, appeared unsympathetic with the great man's scruples over the legitimacy of his ownership of considerable lands once belonging to the Church. But for Boyle this was no trivial matter; throughout his life he was similarly plagued about the moral rectitude of inheritances from his wealthy father, about constant incursions of blasphemous thoughts, and about the moral propriety of taking oaths. Indeed, for Hunter Boyle's obsessive concern in salving his conscience induced his refusal to accept the presidency of the Royal Society in 1680 because of the oath‐taking necessitated by the position. His tortuous, obsessive religious preoccupations, Hunter argues, find their parallels in Boyle's equally exacting procedures related to his punctilious scientific experiments. Thus, while some historians might see the scrupulous religiosity of Boyle as “dysfunctional,” the same instincts and personality features made him a highly “functional” scientist.Hunter's careful probing of Boyle's defensive apologies, frequently found as prefatory material in his published treatises, reveals another side of Boyle, hitherto largely ignored by his biographers. Excessively concerned about his reputation for establishing new empirical findings, Boyle reveals himself to Hunter in several instances as a masterful dissembler or plagiarist, careful in the extreme to conceal his debts to empirics, compilers, and less learned or less socially prominent men, including George Starkey, William Salmon, Johann Glauber, J. J. Becher, and Jean‐Baptiste DuHamel. What emerges from Hunter's depiction is the antithesis of the decisive, manipulative, socially prepossessing Boyle that Shapin has depicted. What Hunter furnishes is a Boyle who is perhaps far more insecure than the one historians have allowed themselves to envision and who struggled to hide his own vulnerability and inadequacy.In a satisfying exploration of Boyle's connections with medical circles, Hunter searches to explain why Boyle, well known among his contemporaries for enjoying a constant state of ill health and for his dissatisfaction with learned Galenic medicine passed down by the esteemed physicians of his day, was, nevertheless, so loath to publish his stinging criticisms of the medical profession. Historians have long recognized that Boyle evinced strong interest in medical matters from the time of his early researches with physicians in the 1650s in Oxford and that he continued to write about medical issues for the next several decades of his life. But Boyle was acutely aware—as his prefaces attest—that he was not a member of the profession and that his access to sick bodies was severely constricted by his status as a gentleman. Hunter suggests that Boyle's reticence in publishing his attacks on the Galenists owed something to his social position—he was, after all, on good social terms with many eminent physicians. His deference, Hunter argues, owed not just to his hesitation to attack a well‐respected profession, but also to his diffidence about proclaiming universal truths on matters as changeable—and ultimately untestable—as sick human bodies. Hunter further probes another paradox of Boyle's life. We know that Boyle freely gave out his medical advice and medicines that were produced in his private laboratory to friends and acquaintances and that, furthermore, he saw this as a moral duty and Christian charity. Yet Boyle, the champion of open communication in matters of natural philosophy, steadfastly refused to publish his medicine recipes . His unpublished drafts reveal a Boyle who was sharply committed to widening the access of his poor countrymen to chemically prepared and effective medicines. But Boyle stopped well short of making these recipes available for wider dissemination through the medium of print. Why? Again Hunter presents no simple answers but suggests a medley of motives. Exquisitely sensitive to his own reputation, Boyle, in part, may have censored himself lest he be seen as the equal of empirics, apothecaries, and quacksalvers, all abundant and thriving in London in the 1670s. Despite his high‐minded sense of philanthropy, Boyle was particularly concerned about his public persona, so much so that his private passions at times took second seat. Hunter suggests a similar explanation for Boyle's refusal to forthrightly publish his investigations of supernatural phenomena, including witchcraft, visions, angelic apparitions, and second sight. In addition to his strong religious scruples that such investigations might be tainted by demonic participation, Boyle censored himself out of his fear of the charge of easy credulity. As popular satires of experimenters were beginning to pour forth from the pens of Thomas Shadwell and Samuel Butler, Boyle must have smarted at the thought of being classified among those indulging in magical pursuits unbecoming to a genteel experimenter. Hunter concludes by revealing a Boyle far from being a confident showman and expositor of the new science. Instead he shows us a conflicted, ambivalent man who suffered from his high social status, even as he manipulated it for his own aggrandizement or for that of the Royal Society and its experimental program.Hunter's depiction of a tortured man—hitherto most often conceived as an iconic devotee of experimental science or as a consummate, self‐fashioning, smooth‐talking gentleman—will not sit well with some historians. Nor will his characterization of Boyle's lifelong religious scruples sit well. Just as Lawrence Principe presented readers with a disturbing vision of a Boyle duped by alchemical operators or conversing with angelic voices, Hunter offers up a tentative, hesitant, and uncertain man who does not seem to fit with earlier portraits. With extremely convincing and documented evidence, Hunter draws a complex, strong personality that left its stamp on his scientific agenda. Hunter's most piercing insight is to see Boyle's deep‐seated diffidence not as an obstacle to his science but as a driving force behind his commitment to experimentalism. In the end Hunter's view will outlast earlier, less complex versions. (shrink)

Self-Interest before Adam Smith inquires into the foundations of economic theory. It is generally assumed that the birth of modern economic science, marked by the publication of The Wealth of Nations in 1776, was the triumph of the 'selfish hypothesis'. Yet, as a neo-Epicurean idea, this hypothesis had been a matter of controversy for over a century and Smith opposed it from a neo-Stoic point of view. But how can the Epicurean principles of orthodox economic theory be reconciled with the (...) Stoic principles of Adam Smith's philosophy? Pierre Force shows how Smith's theory refutes the 'selfish hypothesis' and integrates it at the same time. He also explains how Smith appropriated Rousseau's 'republican' critique of modern commercial society, and makes the case that the autonomy of economic science is an unintended consequence of Smith's 'republican' principles. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:166 HUME'S INTEREST IN NEWTON AND SCIENCE Many writers have been forced to examine — in their treatments of Hume's knowledge of and acquaintance with scientific theories of his day — the related questions of Hume's knowledge of and acquaintance with Isaac Newton and of the nature and extent of Newtonian influences upon Hume's thinking. Most have concluded that — in some sense — Hume was acquainted with (...) and influenced by Newton's thought in particular and scientific thought in general. The genesis of this paper is the recent point of view put forward by Peter Jones which challenges the many permutations of this almost ritualistic standard line by removing Hume entirely from the Newtonian and the scientific scenes of thought. Jones argues that Hume knew less about Newton and science, and needed to know less about Newton and 2 science, than he believes is required by the above interpretation. Indeed, Jones argues that Hume's fundamental assumptions, which, according to Jones, derive ultimately from a form of Ciceronian humanism, drive a "wedge" between Newton's thought and that of 3 Hume. Even Hume's introductory remarks in the Treatise about his universal "science of man" are, for Jones, a declaration of independence from the materialistic trend (as Jones sees it) of Newtonian 4 science and not, as so many commentators have maintained — however tenuously or strongly evidence for linkage of Hume's project with Newtonian or scientific thought. Jones baldly argues that Hume totally lacked interest in science in general and in Newton and Newtonian science in particular. Following J. H. Burton's observation that Hume's work is surprisingly free from the "opinions" of contemporary scientists, 167 Jones states there is no evidence that Hume ever studied science at the University of Edinburgh or that he "pursued" scientific studies of any formal sort. Regarding Newtonian scientific thought, he emphasizes the paucity of specifically Newtonian scientific textbooks in the early eighteenth century 7 which might have been available for Hume to study and argues that nowhere in Hume's writings is there evidence of precise and detailed knowledge of Newton's science beyond what is available in Q Chamber's Cyclopaedia. Jones acknowledges that, in the Introduction to the Treatise, Hume utilizes a "general version" of Newton's "Regulae Philosophandi" from the beginning of Book III of Newton's Principia. Nevertheless, in Jones' view, Hume's fundamentally humanistic orientation separates him completely from g any Newtonian influence. Finally, according to Jones, Hume does not betray the least bit of knowledge of Newton's mathematics and its role in Newton's experimental methodology. On this evidence Jones grounds his central claim of Hume's "total lack of interest in contemporary science." What references there are to Newton and to science in Hume's works Jones finds "traceable to essentially literary predecessors such as Fontenelle or Montesquieu, or to standard works of theologians ] 2 or free-thinkers." The absence of clearly direct references to what Jones feels are scientific works results both from Hume's "total lack of interest in science" and from his commitment to a form of Ciceronian humanism which is "inimical" to what Jones finds to be the obvious materialistic tendencies of 13 science in the early modern period. Jones' account of the Ciceronian and French contexts of Hume's thought is excellent. But his claim that Hume had no interest whatsoever in science 168 is simply too strong and finally forces us to view science in Hume's day as equivalent to science in our own time, a manifestly anachronistic point of view. Throughout this paper, my argument will be conditioned by my view that Hume's interest in science cannot be separated from his epistemology or his religious scepticism. Hume's interest in science was precisely that of a man of letters of the eighteenth century vitally engaged in determining the proper use of scientific methodology in establishing the limits of the secular science of man once it has 14 been freed from the fetters of theology. Hume's interest in theological and epistemological issues inevitably gave rise to a strong interest on his part in the science of his day and in Newton's contributions... (shrink)

Ethics consultation has become an integral part of the fabric of U.S. health care delivery. This article summarizes the second edition of the Core Competencies for Health Care Ethics Consultation report of the American Society for Bioethics and Humanities. The core knowledge and skills competencies identified in the first edition of Core Competencies have been adopted by various ethics consultation services and education programs, providing evidence of their endorsement as health care ethics consultation (HCEC) standards. This revised report was prompted (...) by thinking in the field that has evolved since the original report. Patients, family members, and health care providers who encounter ethical questions or concerns that ethics consultants could help address deserve access to efficient, effective, and accountable HCEC services. All individuals providing such services should be held to the standards of competence and quality described in the revised report. (shrink)

Taking Pascal's appropriation of Montaigne as its main example, this article asks what it means to "say something new" in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It argues that literary and philosophical innovation is best understood in reference to the rhetorical tradition, and it analyzes what "saying something new" means in terms of inventio, dispositio, elocutio, decorum, and ethos. Close attention is also paid to the relationship between economy and equity (in the rhetorical sense of these terms). For Pascal and Montaigne, (...) the "new" is desirable not for its own sake, but rather as an exercise for the soul. (shrink)

Dick Popkin and James Force have attended a number of recent conferences where it was apparent that much new and important research was being done in the fields of interpreting Newton's and Spinoza's contributions as biblical scholars and of the relationship between their biblical scholarship and other aspects of their particular philosophies. This collection represents the best current research in this area. It stands alone as the only work to bring together the best current work on these topics. Its primary (...) audience is specialised scholars of the thought of Newton and Spinoza as well as historians of the philosophical ideas of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. (shrink)

The French philosopher and intellectual historian Pierre Hadot (1922-2010) is known primarily for his conception of philosophy as spiritual exercise, which was an essential reference for the later Foucault. An aspect of his work that has received less attention is a set of methodological reflections on intellectual history and on the relationship between philosophy and history. Hadot was trained initially as a philosopher and was interested in existentialism as well as in the convergence between philosophy and poetry. Yet he chose (...) to become a historian of philosophy and produced extensive philological work on neo-Platonism and ancient philosophy in general. He found a philosophical rationale for this shift in his encounter with Wittgenstein's philosophy in the mid-1950s (Hadot was one of Wittgenstein's earliest French readers and interpreters). For Hadot, ancient philosophy must be understood as a series of language games, and each language game must be situated within the concrete conditions in which it happened. The reference to Wittgenstein therefore supports a strongly contextualist and historicist stance. It also supports its exact opposite: presentist appropriations of ancient texts are entirely legitimate, and they are the only way ancient philosophy can be existentially meaningful to us. Hadot addresses the contradiction by embracing it fully and claiming that his own practice aims at a coincidence of opposites (a concept borrowed from the Heraclitean tradition). For Hadot the fullest and truest way of doing philosophy is to be a philosopher and a historian at the same time. (shrink)

III. INTERPRÉTATION ET CONTRARIÉTÉS 1. Contrariétés et apologétique Le Père Garasse justifie l'existence de contradictions dans la Bible en comparant les Ecritures au corpus des textes législatifs, que les juristes ont souvent du mal à ...

Professor Margaret Jo Osler of the University of Calgary, an historian of early modern science and philosophy (and a member of the Board of Directors of the Journal of the History of Philosophy since 2002) died on September 15, 2010. Born on November 27, 1942, she proudly proclaimed herself to be a "red diaper baby" and particularly delighted in telling her right-wing friends how her middle name was her parents' homage to Stalin. An energetic scholar with a vibrant and positive (...) personality, Maggie, as everyone who worked with her came to call her, never considered retirement and was actively working right up to her diagnosis with pancreatic cancer in early July, 2010.After graduating from Swarthmore College in .. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Montaigne and the Coherence of EclecticismPierre ForceSince the publication of Pierre Hadot's essays on ancient philosophy by Arnold Davidson in 1995,2 Michel Foucault's late work on "the care of the self"3 has appeared in a new light. We now know that Hadot's work was familiar to Foucault as early as the 1950s.4 It is also clear that Foucault's notion of "techniques of the self" is very close to what (...) Hadot calls "spiritual exercises." At the same time, there are important differences between the views of these two philosophers, and Hadot has often expressed his regret that Foucault's untimely death prevented them from exploring these differences.5 One important point of disagreement was the status of eclecticism. In Foucault's interpretation of ancient philosophy, the "constitution of the self" implied a personal choice among disparate philosophical references: "Writing as a personal exercise done by the self and for the self, is an art of disparate truth."6 In a 1989 article Hadot argued from a historical point of view that, so far as Stoicism and Epicureanism were concerned, [End Page 523] eclecticism had no place in a mature practice of philosophy. Foucault's favorite example, Seneca's Letters to Lucilius, in which Stoic arguments were invoked along with Epicurean arguments, was a work for beginners. In a mature practice of Stoicism, one would stick to the arguments of the Stoic school, choose them for their coherence, and instead of trying to forge a spiritual identity for oneself through writing, one would "liberate oneself from one's individuality in order to raise oneself up to universality."7 Hadot added that "it is only in the New Academy—in the person of Cicero, for instance—that a personal choice is made according to what reason considers as most likely at a given moment."8 This discussion of Foucault may give the impression that Hadot was somewhat dismissive of eclecticism. Yet in a 2001 interview Hadot claimed that he had always admired Cicero's intellectual independence, and he proposed a reappraisal "of an attitude that has always had a bad reputation: eclecticism."9Something very similar is a stake in the work of Alexander Nehamas, as Lanier Anderson and Joshua Landy showed in their study of his Art of Living. In the conception of philosophy as a "way of life" (Hadot) or "care of the self" (Foucault) or "self-fashioning" (Nehamas), a central issue is the relationship between theoretical coherence and the coherence of the person who theorizes. Elaborating on Nehamas's chapter on Montaigne, Anderson and Landy argue that there is a move in Montaigne away from doctrinal coherence and towards a coherence of the self. As they put it, "the harmonious whole Montaigne commends [... ] is not a coherent body of fact or theory; it is the unified self of the theorizer."10 Anderson and Landy show that this brings up all kinds of difficulties: can this unified self be other than a fiction? If that is the case, how can philosophy be a way of life? Nehamas's answer is very much in the spirit of the late Foucault: there is a coherence of the self in Montaigne, and this coherence is the product of writing as a philosophical activity. The self is fashioned through writing.Because Montaigne writes in the ancient tradition of philosophy as a way of life, one may recall Hadot's suggestion that Foucault's notion of [End Page 524] "writing the self" is an intriguing but historically inaccurate description of ancient philosophical practice. But perhaps Hadot agrees with Foucault after all, since in his most recent interviews, he speaks favorably of eclecticism, a notion that is central to Foucault's analysis of self-fashioning through writing. The case of Montaigne is particularly interesting for these purposes, not only because the Essays seem to be the prototypical example of "writing the self," but also because eclecticism is both discussed and practiced throughout the Essays. I propose to take a fresh look at this issue by investigating the status of eclecticism in Montaigne's Essays. This must start with an examination of the philosophical tradition most closely associated with... (shrink)