Genome editing with engineered nucleases (GEENs) introduce site‐specific DNA double‐strand breaks (DSBs) and repairs DSBs via nonhomologous end‐joining (NHEJ) pathways that eventually create indels (insertions/deletions) in a genome. Whether the features of indels resulting from gene editing could be customized is asked. A review of the literature reveals how gene editing technologies via NHEJ pathways impact gene editing. The survey consolidates a body of literature that suggests that the type (insertion, deletion, and complex) and the approximate length of indel (...) edits can be somewhat customized with different GEENs and by manipulating the expression of key NHEJ genes. Structural data suggest that binding of GEENs to DNA may interfere with binding of key components of DNA repair complexes, favoring either classical‐ or alternative‐NHEJ. The hypotheses have some limitations, but if validated, will enable scientists to better control indel makeup, holding promise for basic science and clinical applications of gene editing. Also see the video abstract here https://youtu.be/vTkJtUsLi3w. (shrink)

Enzymatic misrepair of ionizing‐radiation‐induced DNA damage can produce large‐scale rearrangements of the genome, such as translocations and dicentrics. These and other chromosome exchange aberrations can cause major phenotypic alterations, including cell death, mutation and neoplasia. Exchange formation requires that two (or more) genomic loci come together spatially. Consequently, the surprisingly rich aberration spectra uncovered by recently developed techniques, when combined with biophysically based computer modeling, help characterize large‐scale chromatin architecture in the interphase nucleus. Most results are consistent with a picture (...) whereby chromosomes are mainly confined to territories, chromatin motion is limited, and interchromosomal interactions involve mainly territory surfaces. Aberration spectra and modeling also help characterize DNA repair/misrepair mechanisms. Quantitative results for mammalian cells are best described by a breakage‐and‐reunion model, suggesting that the dominant recombinational mechanism during the G0/G1 phase of the cell cycle is non‐homologous end‐joining of radiogenic DNA double strand breaks. In turn, better mechanistic and quantitative understanding of aberration formation gives new insights into health‐related applications. BioEssays 24:714–723, 2002. © 2002 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. (shrink)

Two mechanisms are available for the repair of DNA double‐strand breaks (DSBs) in eukaryotic cells: homology directed repair (HDR) and non‐homologous end‐joining (NHEJ). While NHEJ is not restricted to a particular phase of the cell cycle, it is incapable of accurately repairing DBSs that have suffered a loss or gain of nucleotide sequence information. In contrast, HDR achieves accurate repair of such DSBs by use of a sister chromatid as a DNA template, but is restricted to cell cycle (...) phases (S/G2) when such templates are available. In this scheme, G1 cells appear to lack a mechanism for the accurate repair of certain DSBs, and an ability to use alternative templates would be highly advantageous. Considered here, therefore, is the possibility that RNA transcripts are used as templates for HDR. Potential mechanisms for transcript‐templated HDR, and ways in which it might be detected, are presented. BioEssays 28:78–83, 2006. © 2005 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. (shrink)

Graphical AbstractGene editing with engineered nucleases introduce double-strand breaks that are repaired by error-prone nonhomologous end-joining (NHEJ). In article number 1900126, Sara G. Trimidal et al. propose that the length and type or resulting indels can now be controlled by editing with different engineered nucleases or by manipulating the expression of NHEJ genes.

Small tandem DNA duplications in the range of 15 to 300 base‐pairs play an important role in the aetiology of human disease and contribute to genome diversity. Here, we discuss different proposed mechanisms for their occurrence and argue that this type of structural variation mainly results from mutagenic repair of chromosomal breaks. This hypothesis is supported by both bioinformatical analysis of insertions occurring in the genome of different species and disease alleles, as well as by CRISPR/Cas9‐based experimental data from different (...) model systems. Recent work points to fill‐in synthesis at double‐stranded DNA breaks with complementary sequences, regulated by end‐joining mechanisms, to account for small tandem duplications. We will review the prevalence of small tandem duplications in the population, and we will speculate on the potential sources of DNA damage that could give rise to this mutational signature. With the development of novel algorithms to analyse sequencing data, small tandem duplications are now more frequently detected in the human genome and identified as oncogenic gain‐of‐function mutations. Understanding their origin could lead to optimized treatment regimens to prevent therapy‐induced activation of oncogenes and might expose novel vulnerabilities in cancer. (shrink)

Replication protein A (RPA) is the main eukaryotic single‐stranded DNA (ssDNA) binding protein, having essential roles in all DNA metabolic reactions involving ssDNA. RPA binds ssDNA with high affinity, thereby preventing the formation of secondary structures and protecting ssDNA from the action of nucleases, and directly interacts with other DNA processing proteins. Here, we discuss recent results supporting the idea that one function of RPA is to prevent annealing between short repeats that can lead to chromosome rearrangements by microhomology‐mediated end (...) joining or the formation of hairpin structures that are substrates for structure‐selective nucleases. We suggest that replication fork catastrophe caused by depletion of RPA could result from cleavage of secondary structures by nucleases, and that failure to cleave hairpin structures formed at DNA ends could lead to gene amplification. These studies highlight the important role RPA plays in maintaining genome integrity. (shrink)

In the second part of the Triptych, Mystique non-philosophique à l'usage des contemporains, François Laruelle puts to the test of "non-philosophy" the field of phenomena that are termed as "religious" whether Christian, Judaic or Gnostic. Non-philosophical mystique is born in the spirit of heresy rather than sanctity. It springs from the effort to join Man with himself rather than with God founding the radical cause of the new Logos in the One-in-One. Man is emptied from his identity, becomes a Christ-subject (...) who comes to fight for the World. Future mystique ends as the amorous knowledge, an erotic a priori constitutive of the mystical subject: it is not an illusory transformation of Man or a revision of his relation to God or the World. The final aim – as I will try to show – is to transfigure the heretical experience, mystical as well as erotic of the human such as it becomes capable of a form of unison with itself as unique Other. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 130-132 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Faith Among Faiths: Christian Theology and Non-Christian Religions Faith Among Faiths: Christian Theology and Non-Christian Religions. By James L. Fredericks. Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1999. 188 pp. "The time has come to recognize that the debate between exclusivists, inclusivists, and pluralists has reached an impasse."This is the starting point and refrain of Faith Among Faiths. While James (...) Fredericks discerns questions and problems relating to all three models for Christian theological attitudes toward religious pluralism, it is predominantly the pluralist approach that he takes to task. In the first part of this slender volume, he offers a summary of some of the main proponents of the pluralist theology of religion. The ideas of John Hick and Paul Knitter are given separate treatment in a chapter on each, with two "other pluralist voices"--Wilfred Cantwell Smith and Stanley Samartha--also discussed at some length. In order to assess the adequacy of these theologies, Fredericks tests them against two important criteria: [End Page 130] responsibility to the Christian tradition as it has articulated itself, and ability to respond creatively to the challenges and opportunities posed by religious plurality today. Regarding the first criterion, most pluralist theologies are shown to fall short of recognizing the full humanity and divinity of Jesus Christ and hence in some measure to break from continuity with Christian faith. In a useful reminder, Fredericks rightly points to the similarities between pluralist Christologies and the nineteenth-century liberal Protestant views of Jesus, and then joins Pannenberg in criticizing this theocentric understanding of Jesus as unbiblical. At the same time, Fredericks attempts to head off the possible charge that he moves toward biblicism or traditionalism by stating that "the traditional teaching about the divinity and the humanity of Jesus is traditional because of the spiritual and ethical implications that flow from it" (p. 124). The evident importance of this assertion makes it regrettable that he does not elaborate or explain it further.Most of Fredericks's criticism of the pluralist approach is based on his second criterion, i.e., the need to take seriously the manifest similarities and differences between religions and, in turn, promote a genuinely fruitful dialogue. From this perspective, the problem with pluralism would be its "domestication of differences" between the religions. When a pluralist such as John Hick proposes that all religions are reflections of the same ultimate reality and that all religious paths lead to the same ultimate goal, Fredericks thus sees a tendency to undermine the importance of religious differences and of the self-understanding of other religions. While this may indeed be a danger lurking in an abstract conception of the pluralist position, I do not believe that it is a necessary or inherent consequence of it. The basic distinction that most pluralists make between the "ultimate reality" itself, which is absolutely transcendent, and the historical manifestations of this "ultimate reality" does not necessarily reduce the different religions to equally adequate or inadequate manifestations of that ultimate reality. On the plane of phenomenal reality, there is still room for a hierarchy of truths and, inter alia, the possibility of growing in one's understanding of truth through dialogue with other religions. There is, moreover, ample evidence of this in the fact that some of the aforementioned pluralists have also written very detailed works on other religions (e.g., Cantwell Smith on Islam) or on particular aspects of other religions (Hick on conceptions of death and the afterlife in world religions). As we have seen in the case with the Buddhist notion of upaya,he recognition of the relative nature of all conditioned reality does not necessarily lead to a relativism in which all differences become insignificant.After criticizing the different pluralist approaches to the theology of religions, Fredericks proposes a shift to comparative theology. He seems to see comparative theology not so much as a new paradigm or orientation within the theology of religions but as a radical alternative to the whole enterprise of the theology of religions... (shrink)

So well established was the cliché which connected TB and creativity that at the end of the century one critic suggested that it was the progressive disappearance of TB which accounted for the current decline of literature and the arts'. Some biochemical evidence does indeed invite a hypothesis that M. tuberculosis originally joined the human holobiont as a brain evolution-enhancing endosymbiont, thus possibly contributing towards the development of human consciousness and creative potential. Exploring the complexity of mycobacteria's entanglements within human (...) corporeality leads us to questions that challenge anthropocentric conceptions of creativity in a twofold manner. As noted above, the tubercle bacillus forms machinic assemblages and operates as an endosymbiont with human bio-systems. It is possible that these endosymbiotic assemblages contribute towards human creativity and destabilize simple notions of its origin. In a double reflection, the concept of creativity itself could be revisited along alternative lines: it can no longer be considered only as the production of human cultural artefacts and experiences, but rather it can be understood as ubiquitous activity performed by heterogeneous highly dynamic machinic assemblages (comprising of human, animal, computational, social, molecular, bacterial, viral and other processes), which lead to the production of novel modes of existence. (shrink)

Human capital, the knowledge, skills, and abilities of employees, can be a powerful driver of firm performance, yet the mobility of human capital raises questions over how to protect it. Employee non-compete agreements, which limit an employee’s ability to start or join a rival firm, have received recent attention. While past research considers whether non-competes are effective tools at limiting employee mobility, few have considered if non-competes should be used. Filling this gap, I propose a normative schema for when employee (...) non-competes can be considered ethical. A review of the limited existing literature on the ethics of employee non-competes finds that prior research has mostly focused on questions of property rights, which I propose as being nested within other ethical constructs. Analysis of two real-world illustrative examples of employee non-competes leads to a three-prong approach to evaluating non-competes based on ethical dimensions of power, autonomy, and fairness. I end by proposing—although further research is warranted—a measure of employee-level absorptive capacity, which is closely coupled with an employee’s pre-employment human capital, as an employee-level attribute independent of, although likely coincidental with, the tripartite requirements of power/autonomy/fairness for ethical employee non-compete agreements. (shrink)

The present “visual world” eye-tracking study examined the time-course of how native and non-native speakers keep track of implied object-state representations during real-time language processing. Fifty-two native speakers of English and 46 non-native speakers with advanced English proficiency joined this study. They heard short stories describing a target object either having undergone a substantial change-of-state or a minimal change-of-state while their eye movements toward competing object-states and two unrelated distractors were tracked. We found that both groups successfully directed their visual (...) attention toward the end-state of the target object that was implied in the linguistic context. However, neither group showed anticipatory eye movements toward the implied object-state when hearing the critical verb. Only native English speakers but not non-native speakers showed a bias in visual attention during the determiner before the noun. Our results suggested that although native and non-native speakers of English largely overlapped in their time-courses of keeping track of object-state representations during real-time language comprehension, non-native speakers showed a short delay in updating the implied object-state representations. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction:Quis se Caesaribus notus non fingit amicum? 1Richard TalbertThis volume owes its origin to a chance encounter in March 2008. As fellow Roman historians, David Potter and I always welcome the opportunity of a conversation whenever our paths happen to cross. Finding myself in Ann Arbor in this instance, I mentioned to David as we talked how impressed I was with the recently published volume The Court and Court (...) Society in Ancient Monarchies, a set of seven contributions edited by Tony Spawforth (2007); of particular interest for my own current work, I added, was the treatment of the Late Roman court by Rowland Smith. David's disclosure at this point that he and Rowland had been fellow graduate students, and our mutual recognition that "court studies" are an emerging theme with immense potential, eventually led us to contemplate sponsoring a conference panel on it. With the 8th Roman Archaeology Conference at Ann Arbor in preparation, we approached the organizers, and they generously included "Royal Courts" in the conference program as a special session. Rowland accepted our invitation to come from the United Kingdom for the occasion, as did Boris Dreyer from Germany. They were joined as speakers by Geoffrey Sumi (Mount Holyoke, Mass.) and by Karen Acton and Ian Moyer from the University of Michigan itself. The session took place on April 3, 2009, during the week that Michelle Obama was suspected of committing the courtly faux pas of touching Queen Elizabeth II in London. In view of the high quality of all five papers, their remarkable cohesion, and the stimulus aroused by the session, we became convinced that publication of written versions would have lasting value and interest. The three special issues to date of American Journal of Philology (all of them likewise stemming from conference panels in fact) seemed an ideal model for the purpose. When approached, the present editor, David Larmour, reacted most positively to the prospect of a fourth such special issue, and we thank him warmly. [End Page 1] We are also grateful to our session speakers, all five of whom consented with alacrity to write up their papers for publication. David offered to add a contribution, and I undertook to introduce the volume. Once we were able to review all six contributions together, it seemed that the original session title called for modification, hence our choice of Classical Courts and Courtiers.What constitutes a "court" is obviously a fundamental issue, treated in this volume by David Potter's contribution in particular and usefully defined in brief by Rowland Smith as "a distinctively configured field in which two categories of human activity—domestic service to a ruler and government of his territories—intersect and mix." For classicists to appreciate the complexity and importance of such an elastic institution is indeed no novelty where Alexander the Great and the Successor kingdoms are concerned, with their close links to earlier Persian and Egyptian forms of rule. This is not to suggest that little remains to be said about these courts. Far from it. David and I were conscious that Tony Spawforth's volume could not be enlarged to include contributions on the Ptolemaic or Seleucid courts. We were eager, therefore, that our own panel (which in turn had to be selective in its coverage) should somehow address these gaps. For that very reason we approached Ian Moyer and Boris Dreyer, who between them demonstrate most capably that established thinking about the composition and development of the Ptolemaic and Seleucid courts, respectively, is due for revision when the evidence is subjected to fresh appraisal.In contrast to the Hellenistic courts, study of the Roman court has been strangely delayed. A principal purpose of the present volume therefore is to reinforce and advance research already begun by several scholars, especially Jeremy Paterson, Rowland Smith, Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, and Aloys Winterling (latest, 2009).2 A range of reasons for this neglect of the Roman court—so astonishing in retrospect—can be identified. First, the lack of specificity for the court. No structures to be closely associated with it remain intact; the same applies, broadly speaking, to both Alexandria (Moyer in this volume) and the great Late Roman... (shrink)

Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats (CRISPR)‐based “active genetic” elements developed in 2015 bypassed the fundamental rules of traditional genetics. Inherited in a super‐Mendelian fashion, such selfish genetic entities offered a variety of potential applications including: gene‐drives to disseminate gene cassettes carrying desired traits throughout insect populations to control disease vectors or pest species, allelic drives biasing inheritance of preferred allelic variants, neutralizing genetic elements to delete and replace or to halt the spread of gene‐drives, split‐drives with the core constituent (...) Cas9 endonuclease and guide RNA (gRNA) components inserted at separate genomic locations to accelerate assembly of complex arrays of genetic traits or to gain genetic entry into novel organisms (vertebrates, plants, bacteria), and interhomolog based copying systems in somatic cells to develop tools for treating inherited or infectious diseases. Here, we summarize the substantial advances that have been made on all of these fronts and look forward to the next phase of this rapidly expanding and impactful field. (shrink)

Performance of bimanual motor actions requires coordinated and integrated bilateral communication, but in some bimanual tasks, neural interactions and crosstalk might cause bilateral interference. The level of interference probably depends on the proportions of bilateral interneurons connecting homologous areas of the motor cortex in the two hemispheres. The neuromuscular system for proximal muscles has a higher number of bilateral interneurons connecting homologous areas of the motor cortex compared to distal muscles. Based on the differences in neurophysiological organization for (...) proximal vs. distal effectors in the upper extremities, the purpose of the present experiment was to evaluate how the level of bilateral interference depends on whether the bilateral interference task is performed with homologous or non-homologous effectors as the primary task. Fourteen participants first performed a unilateral primary motor task with the dominant arm with proximal and distal controlled joysticks. Performance in the unilateral condition with the dominant arm was compared to the same effector’s performance when two different bilateral interference tasks were performed simultaneously with the non-dominant arm. The two different bilateral interference tasks were subdivided into homologous and non-homologous effectors. The results showed a significant decrease in performance for both proximal and distal controlled joysticks, and this effect was independent of whether the bilateral interference tasks were introduced with homologous or non-homologous effectors. The overall performance decrease as a result of bilateral interference was larger for proximal compared to distal controlled joysticks. Furthermore, a proximal bilateral interference caused a larger performance decrement independent of whether the primary motor task was controlled by a proximal or distal joystick. A novel finding was that the distal joystick performance equally interfered with either homologous or non-homologous interference tasks performed simultaneously. The results indicate that the proximal–distal distinction is an important organismic constraint on motor control and for understanding bilateral communication and interference in general and, in particular, how bilateral interference caused by homologous vs. non-homologous effectors impacts motor performance for proximal and distal effectors. The results seem to map neuroanatomical and neurophysiological differences for these effectors. (shrink)

The work of the French philosopher Jean-Luc Nancy shares with the thinkers of the ‘theological turn in phenomenology’ the programmatic desire to place the ‘theological’, in the broad sense of rethinking the religious traditions in our secular time, back on the agenda of critical thought. Like those advocating a theological turn in phenomenology, Nancy’s deconstructive approach to philosophical analysis aims to develop a new sensibility for the other, for transcendence, conceptualized as the non-apparent in the realm of appearing phenomena. This (...) is why Nancy launches a project looking for the ‘unthought’ and unexpected within the Christian traditions, called deconstruction of Christianity. However, the deconstructive approach to the non-apparent differs fundamentally from that of the thinkers of the turn (1) in its being non-apologetic and non-restorative with regard to religion, because it starts from a problematization of the—typically modern, that is romantic—desire to defend and protect what would be ‘lost’ and possibly to restore this, (2) in its focus on the complex difference-at-work (différance) between religion and secularism, a difference that can be termed entanglement and complicity between these two, (3) in its hypothesis that this entanglement is essentially one between (the meaning and experience of, the rituality around) presence and absence in modern culture, (4) in its conviction that the philosophy and history of culture must join, support, complete and maybe even turn around phenomenology when dealing with the difficult task of determining what exactly would be ‘left’ of the ‘theological’ in our time. In this article, both positions are compared and confronted further, leading to an account of Nancy’s re-readings of the Christian legacy (its theology, doctrine, art, rituals etc.), and ending in a more detailed, exemplary inquiry into the tension between distance and proximity, characteristic of the Christian God. (shrink)

This collection joins a long parade of attempts to slay an aging, decrepit, beast. This beast of mythical status being the Modern Synthesis in evolutionary biology. As some of the authors in this collection note, it is far from clear whether these attempts do not in fact invigorate the beast, keeping it alert and nimble. As someone in the business of developing traps for the monster and its lookalikes, reading this collection I found myself identifying with the beast, clearly the (...) underdog here as in many philosophy of biology circles, if not in Real Life, that is, in university biology departments. I also ended up not sure if everyone is chasing the same monster or maybe we are chasing shadows, possibly, but not certainly, the multiple shadows of one beast. So instead of engaging with specific arguments developed in individual chapters concerning the evolutionary significance of phenomena such as non-genetic inheritance or the Baldwin Effect, and covering a wide terrain, I mostly dedicate this review to what the monster looks like through the eyes of the hunters here assembled and to the roles philosophers of science play vis-à-vis the sciences they study. In other words, I will restrict this review to the various answers given throughout the collection to the question of the nature of the synthesis, the nature of the challenges, and the nature of the proposed or envisioned replacement. (shrink)

This article critically engages with the work of Bruno Latour and, in particular, his book We Have Never Been Modern. Looking beyond the wit and brevity of Latour's writing, the article focuses on some of the non-innocent aspects of his vision of a non-modern world. Rather than completely rejecting the `Great Divides' between Nature and Culture, Westerners and non-Westerners, Latour is seen as only interested in erasing these major fault lines of modernity in order to draw them anew. Ultimately, Latour (...) is not asking his readers to doubt the superiority of Western science but only to understand this superiority differently — as contingent and uncertain rather than necessary and secure. Latour is not as alone as he would have us believe in bringing a non-modern world into focus and the article devotes the bulk of its attention to comparing Latour's thoughts with those governing the Euro-American discipline of international relations before and after the end of the Cold War. Latour's particular account of the non-modern condition, it is argued, corresponds well with the shift from realism to neo-realism within international relations and the replacement of bi-polarity by global technological competition as the dominant feature of the international system. Although Latour continues to be regularly attacked in the so-called `Science Wars' as an enemy of Western science, he actually joins forces with leading Euro-American security experts today in contending that the future of both `Science' and the `West' hinges on the careful monitoring and management of hybrid networks of humans and non-humans and not on uncompromising acts of `purification' as has been the strategy in the past. (shrink)

Spinoza breaks with Descartes’ conception of the psychophysical union and deeply changes the ontological statute of men. He considers no longer that human beings in Nature are a dominion within a dominion and share with God the privilege of being substances. In Descartes, the union of an immaterial or non‐extended substance and a material or extended substance remains beyond understanding, since the problem of whether they are able to interact arises. By identifying the mind to the idea of the body, (...) the author of the Ethics provides guidance on how to conceptualize their relationship. The psychophysical parallelism fails to explain both identity and differences in Spinoza. It presupposes homologies and one‐to‐one correspondences between ideas and things, mind and body, and leads to conceptualizing the various modal expressions according to a linearly identical model. The psychophysical union in Spinoza sounds like a duet that puts an end to duality without reducing it to a mechanical identity. (shrink)

Personal and professional success in the digital age requires digital abilities. Increased expectations that graduates be adept in digitisation while joining the job need higher education institutions to successfully incorporate digital aspects. This study evaluates university EFL students' digital integrative attitudes and instructors' digital proficiency. Digital tools are emphasised for collaborative learning. Researchers seek to address two key questions: What are EFL students’ perspectives on digital learning? How do they assess teachers' IT skills? It appears through the end result (...) not all instructos have the same digital competency and it is strictly field dependent. This variance in the digital capalities and field orientation decideis the choice of their preferredd pedagogical tools. Digital collaborative learning was used by both categories of students: engineering students and non-engineering EFL students to variable degrees. This suggests that punishing students may affect preferences and behaviours in this area. EFL students were confident in their digital tool usage, although they didn't comprehend all the features. This study's results may improve instructional techniques, institutional standards, and professional development programmes to improve educators' digital abilities. As digital technology integration evolves, global higher education consequences are enormous. (shrink)

At the end of the 20th century, global processes led to a fundamental shift in the international political environment. In addition to the emergence of new independent states within the international system, various international actors, such as transnational financial organizations and non-governmental organizations-which have gained significant importance due to globalization-contributed to the transformation of the international relations system. These changes were reflected in the foreign policies of many states. Azerbaijan, which gained independence in 1991, redefined its foreign policy to protect (...) its national interests while leveraging the opportunities of international cooperation in the context of global integration. Among Azerbaijan’s foreign policy priorities is integration into the European Union system across economic, political, social, and cultural spheres, as well as into the broader global political arena, particularly where Western countries are represented. By joining this system, Azerbaijan enhances its ability to utilize its resources more efficiently, safely, and cost-effectively, ensuring a prosperous life for its people. Additionally, it accelerates the entry of advanced world technologies, investment, and foreign capital into the country's economy, fostering the development of the non-oil sector. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Epistemology of Protest by José MedinaShannon Brick (bio)Review of José Medina, The Epistemology of Protest ( Oxford University Press, 2023)José Medina's previous book, The Epistemology of Resistance (2012), examined epistemic practices as forms of political resistance. His latest book, The Epistemology of Protest, takes up an obviously political action and examines it as a distinctly epistemic phenomenon. He argues that from an epistemic perspective, protest does much (...) more than convey knowledge, and it is more than an action from which new knowledge might emerge. Instead, protest is a group action by which new forms of epistemic and communicative agency are brought into being. It is a kind of group action, moreover, with respect to which all people shoulder obligations—to listen and, sometimes, to join. Medina's account seeks to clarify the relationship between protesting and silencing, while accommodating a plurality of forms of protest. Various aspects of the account shed light on how silencing might be resisted, both from the perspective of the protesters and of members of the non-protesting public who take their obligations to listen seriously.The Epistemology of Protest has two parts. The first, "Protest as a Matrix of Communicative Resistance," (17) establishes in broad strokes the key aspects of Medina's account of protest. This part will be of primary interest to applied philosophers of language, and those interested in the normative questions raised by protest. The second, "Forging Communicative Solidarity and Re-Making the Polis: Changing Ourselves and Changing the World through Protest," (133) takes up in greater detail the four communicative dimensions of protests that are sketched in the first part of the book: the expression of dissent, as well as the testimonial, evaluative, and prescriptive dimensions of protest. Foregrounded throughout these chapters are the political struggles of actual communities, especially the radical (and often uncivil) protests of liberation movements. The rich discussions of these struggles will be of particular interest to social philosophers and those working on applied speech act theory, as well activists and the public more generally. [End Page E-1]The Epistemology of Protest opens by motivating a basic normative claim: all people have a duty to listen to protest and, in certain circumstances, a defeasible prima facie duty to protest. The latter aspect of this claim—that, in certain circumstances, we have a duty to protest—is situated within the context of the broader, imperfect duty to resist injustice (Medina 2023, 28; see also Delmas 2018). However, joining a protest is not just one way of discharging our imperfect duty to resist injustice, but a way of discharging the duty that all citizens ought to exercise whenever conditions of "social uprising against injustice" (22) obtain—when there is a real opportunity for a growing mass movement to achieve social change. Importantly, this is not a duty that has its roots in our political associations, but one that extends beyond the bounds of even the nation state (a position defended in Chapter Two by way of Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous assertion, in his "Letter from Birmingham Jail," that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." (King 1963/1990, 5, as cited in Medina 2023, 72).Central to Medina's argument for this claim is that some especially grave sorts of injustice produce not just material harms but, as per Richard Pildes and Richard Niemi, "expressive harms." (1993, 485). These are harms that occur when people are marked as inferior or subordinate, and that—like all injustices—tend to become socially invisible and inaudible, especially for those whom they benefit. Unless one interrupts the generation of these harms by protesting, one becomes complicit in their production. Hence, our duty of justice cannot be discharged simply by refraining from actively participating in the unjust practices that produce expressive harms.This discussion around expressive harms implies that our protest-duties are much stronger than the basic normative claim suggests. If a failure to protest amounts to complicity, why do we only shoulder a prima facie duty to protest when conditions of social uprising obtain? Siding with Candice Delmas (2018), Medina suggests that we cannot all be expected to devote ourselves entirely to... (shrink)

The traditional German policy was to “push to the East”. After signing a non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union, Germany invaded Poland on September 1, 1939, and the Red Army entered the Polish territory on September 17.The German occupation was marked by terror and executions. A resistance movement was developed, and along a secret government and underground army came into being. It was organized by officers who were not taken prisoners of war and by main political parties. The German retaliation—arrests, (...) tortures, concentration camps—did not deter the Poles from joining the patriotic conspiracy.For about five years, the nation waited for a proper moment to fight the occupants. For the city of Warsaw, it seemed that the good time was the middle of the summer of 1944. The Germans were retreating on all fronts, and the Red Army was on the suburbs of Warsaw, on the right bank of the Vistula. It was expected that it would help the insurgents.The Uprising was intended to last a few days. It ended after more than two months, when the Home Army had no more bullets, and the population—no more food. An honorable surrender was signed with the Germans, by virtue of which the insurgents were treated as allied soldiers rather than bandits to be executed, as was the case at the beginning of the Uprising. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's most successful (...) philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

This contribution investigates a specific agricultural protest movement that emerged towards the end of the Second World War in Western Switzerland. In the spring of 1945, dissatisfied farmers in the French-speaking part of Switzerland founded the “Union Romande des Agriculteurs” (URA), a peasant opposition movement that struggled against both the increasing power of the state and the existing farmers’ organizations in regulating agriculture and the disintegrating impact of industrial capitalism on the livelihoods and way of life of farming communities. In (...) the fall of 1945 and 1947, the URA organized two milk delivery strikes to mobilize fellow farmers to join the URA’s resistance. They also founded their own journal, tellingly called _Le Paysan Enchâiné_ – “The Chained Peasant.” The leaders of the movement were later brought to the courts and condemned to harsh punishments for their non-compliance with the milk delivery obligations that emanated from the war economy regime and that were still in force after the war. The story of the URA’s milk delivery strikes and its suppression by the state and the official farmers’ organizations is also a story of farmers’ use of symbolic practices with which they forged their identity as an opposition movement and by which they demanded political legitimacy for their claims. By taking a closer look at the activities of this movement and investigating the performance of the URA’s protests, as well as the symbolic meanings they attached to them, this article attempts to decipher the often-intangible political symbolism and ritual character that shaped their protesting, at the crossroads of long-standing traditions of peasant resistance and the new challenges farmers were facing in the transformation of mid-20th century agriculture. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Living from the Dead: Disaffirming Biopolitics by Stuart J. MurrayMichelle BallifThe Living from the Dead: Disaffirming Biopolitics, by Stuart J. Murray. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, The RSA Series in Transdisciplinary Rhetorics, 2022. 207 pp. ISBN 9780271093413 (hardback) $109.95 ISBN 9780271093406 (paper) $27.50If we but listen, we can hear a voice from the grave—Jacques Derrida's mournful lamentation: "There is no longer, there has never been a (...) scholar capable of speaking of anything and everything while addressing himself to everyone and anyone, and especially to ghosts. There has never been a scholar who really, and as scholar, deals with ghosts" (2006, 12), a scholar who "does not believe in the sharp distinction between … the living and the non-living" (12). But, then, as if in response, we witness the apparition of just such a scholar: Stuart J. Murray, the author of The Living from the Dead, who very much is dedicated to the ethical project of attending to those dead who continue to haunt the living. Indeed, the book's cover features a spectral image, entitled "Ghost," as it were, conjured by artist Si Lewen. As well, the very title of his work renders the "sharp distinction" between "The Living" and "The Dead" porous, quixotically indistinct, as signified by the unattached and unhinged preposition "from." That is, the title does not announce that Murray intends to distinguish the living from the dead, nor separate the living from the dead, nor identify the living from the dead—in some categorical, decisive demarcation. Rather, Murray's use of the preposition "from" might conjure—instead, a Derridean sense of a "borderline"—a relation marked by différance between the living and the dead. Etymologically derived from an Old English preposition, "denoting the distance, absence, or remoteness of a person or thing in fixed position" [End Page 347] (OED)—in time or space, from evokes Derrida's neologism. "Différance as temporization [time/deferral], différance as spacing [space/difference]. How are they [time/space]," Derrida queries, "to be joined?" (1991, 61). Murray's syntactically incomplete phrase suggests that the living and the dead are conjoined in a relation of interminable deferral and indeterminable difference, entangled in a fluxed, symbiotic—parasitic, even—relation.Much more could be said on this t(r)opic of deferred presence (and much more, indeed, of parasitic consumption and carnophallogocentrism), but to our immediate point, as Murray's work entreats us to consider, there is much to learn in conversation with the dead; and indeed, it is our ethical responsibility—burden, even, as he remarks—to "hearken" to their voices. Murray's The Living from the Dead undertakes this burden, listening to "the dead, the dying, the dispossessed" (1), endeavoring to articulate "[u]nder what conditions might we hearken those dead who summon us, and exhort us, perhaps to reckon with our unspeakable complicity in their deaths" (1), while offering the following caveat: "These pages, which arise in care of such summons, exhortations, and calls to reckoning neither speak for nor as the dead, the dying, or lives lost" (1), for as he will reveal in his refrain, speaking for or as amounts to an unethical co-option, a resentencing to death of the dead and dying.Murray describes his work's writing "something akin to thanatography" (1), which is through and through a rhetorical enterprise, necessitating an attunement to and with biopolitics' "speech/acts and its tropological constitution of subjects, political identities, and lives lived" (10). That is, as Steven Mailloux has argued elsewhere, tropes are rotated in order to "rotate the troops" (1993, 299). Tropes, troops; life, death. Much is at stake.The subtitle of the book, Disaffirming Biopolitics, foregrounds Murray's argument: that attending to these voices, to the dead, requires a certain disaffirmation of biopolitics, a disaffirmation of "a politics ostensibly devoted to life (bios)" (1), to the production of "life," which is "governed by increasingly autonomous efficiencies and economies of scale, through techno-administrative mechanisms that include systems of surveillance, segregation, health and welfare regimes" (2), as well as "through education, … law, biomedicine, and popular culture, too" (2). The production of "life" instantiates itself... (shrink)

RésuméPour les Grecs en général et pour Platon en particulier, il y avait trois sujets principaux d'intérět: la nature, Dieu et l'homme. Pour Platon, Dieu était l'intermédiaire entre le monde naturel des apparences et celui des ětres; et pour Aristote, Dieu se trouvait aux deux extrémités d'un monde naturel unique en devenir. Le Moyen Age s'est occupé uniquement de Dieu et de l'homme. Les œuvres scientifiques grecques émigrèrent vers l'est dans la période hellénistique où elles furent reprises par les Arabes (...) et elles ne retournèrent en Europe que pour rejoindre la joie de la nature qui se manifeste dans l'art grec et dans celui de la Renaissance. La Réformation ébranla la théologie si violemment que l'homme seul devint le sujet de l'étude philosophique. Les deux traditions empiristes étaient nées: l'empirisme scientifique qui s'occupe de la nature et l'empirisme philosophique qui s'occupe de l'homme. Le premier devint objectif dans ses intérěts, le second subjectif. Ils ne se rencontrèrent pas, et ainsi la philosophie ne représenta jamais correctement l'empirisme scientifique. Chacun des deux a sa propre place, mais leur confusion a retardé le développement des sciences sociales et a empěché la compréhension de ce qu'est la science en général. Pour rétablir l'importance des deux types d'empirisme dans l'opinion commune, il faudra les distinguer et développer chaque théorie sur des bases différentes. La philosophie des sciences comme branche spéciale de la philosophie devra apprendre à observer ce que les hommes de science font et non à écouter ce qu'ils pensent que signifie ce qu'ils font.For the Greeks generally and for Plato in particular there were three absorbing interests: nature, God and man. For Plato, God was the intermediary in a two‐storeyed natural world of being and appearance; and for Aristotle, God stood at both ends of a single natural world of becoming. The Middle Ages were concerned exclusively with God and man. Greek scientific works went east in the Hellenistic Age, where they were taken over by the Moslems; and only returned to Europe in time to join the rediscovery of the joy of nature as displayed in the Greek art of the Renaissance. The Reformation shook theology so badly that man alone became the object of philosophical study. Thus two traditions of empiricism were born: scientific empiricism, concerned with nature; and philosophical empiricism, concerned with man. The former became objective in its interests, and the latter subjective. They did not meet, and so philosophy has never correctly represented scientific empiricism. Each has its proper place, but the confusion has retarded the development of the social sciences and hampered the general understanding of what science is. In order to restore the importance of both types of empiricism in the common comprehension, they will have to be distinguished, and each theory developed on different grounds. The philosophy of science, as a special branch of philosophy, will have to learn how to watch what the scientists do and not listen to what they say what they are doing means. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:On PartnershipRyan Schwarz, Duncan Smith-Rohrberg Maru, Dan Schwarz, Bibhav Acharya, Bijay Acharya, Ruma Rajbhandari, Jason Andrews, Gregory Karelas, Ranju Sharma, and Mark ArnoldyRecently, Bayalpata Hospital, in the rural district of Achham, Nepal almost collapsed under the weight of its own staff's discontent. The hospital had been largely abandoned until 2009 when our organization, Nyaya Health, renovated and opened it in partnership with the Nepali government. Since then, the hospital (...) has seen great progress and has experienced widespread community support. Nonetheless, earlier this year, a broad-based staff revolt occurred, led primarily by our senior clinical staff members, raising concerns that Nyaya's management policies were ineffective, and wages and benefits were too low. The unrest included everything from a strike, limiting services to our patients, to aggression against non-strikers and slander and racist comments in public media against the Nyaya Health Board of Directors. Ultimately, the conflict was resolved, though not without the departure of our three most senior clinicians. The incident deeply damaged staff morale [End Page 101] and impeded basic services to our patients, and from our perspective as a leadership and management team, it was deeply troubling and spiritually challenging. We have learned much in the wake of the strike, but here we focus more narrowly on the concept of partnerships in our work by examining the recent strike and the two key issues that lead to it: wages and benefits, and management policies at Bayalpata Hospital.In grappling with the recent staff crisis, some of our leadership team expressed concerns that we would never be able to develop a true partnership in Achham if our senior-level employees led strikes against the organization. The leaders of the strike were our most well-educated and high-ranking staff. They were also individuals who had come to work for us specifically citing the moral imperative of our work, and their pride in helping to serve the poorest of the poor. One leadership team member asked, "What is 'partnership' then? We came into this work with the premise that we would work together, with our partnership built around the right to health—but who are our partners if they lead strikes damaging the very services our collective mission aims to offer?"Another leadership team member commented, "The first time I visited Achham I was invited for tea at Meena's* house (one of Nyaya's midwives). We arrived at her house and Meena greeted us warmly. She showed us in to a small room: there was no furniture, but there was an immaculately swept mat which we joined her on. We drank tea, seated on her rug, and listened to her tell us how she had come to live in the house, how she had come to work for Nyaya, and her pride in now being able to provide both for her own children, as well as, the children of her relatives. As the only employed family member, she now had the challenge of providing for all of them. When we question our partnership, I'm taken back to Meena's warm, but extremely poor, home. She has worked for Nyaya for almost four years. She has helped our organization provide free care to over 75,000 people. Is this not a type of 'partnership'?"Allow us to offer some background on the issue of wages—Meena has been with our team since 2008, and has been paid about $2,500 per year—a generous wage compared to other employers in the region. Meena was one of the striking staff members. Among other concerns about the way the hospital was being run, she and other staff asked indignantly why we couldn't provide them with higher wages, better benefits, and more resources, both for her and the hospital. Notably, Meena's salary (and the rest of our staff's) was well above her equivalent in other, more urban hospitals (to compensate for the extremely remote area in which we work), and in a district where most families are farmers, our staff's salaries occupy the highest income bracket in the region. Nonetheless, as is common throughout the world in both rich and poor areas... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Ad UnguemArmand J. D'Angour vos, oPompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod nonmulta dies et multa litura coercuit atquepraesectum deciens non castigavit ad unguem.(Horace Ars Poetica 291–94) You, OSons of Pompilius, condemn that poem whichmany a day and many an erasure has not pruned andwhittled down and chastened tenfold to the nail."Censure a poem," Brink paraphrases, "which has not been reduced to right proportions and (when it has been reduced) has (...) not been tested to a nicety."1 Tested, that is, by its author, whose action Horace has been thought here to be likening to the way a sculptor examines a completed work for flaws. Translations of the final line commonly expand the phrase ad unguem to specify such a connotation, often taking praesectum to qualify unguem as in "to meet the test of the well–pared nail."2 But Brink has advanced convincing arguments against the supposition that praesectum qualifies unguem.3 Moreover, praesectum is positioned for emphasis and followed directly by deciens: the words must elaborate the process described by the foregoing coercuit.4Praesectum [End Page 411] thus picks up carmen, and no reference to the artisan's manicure should be supposed.5Ad unguem remains as a self–contained expression, to be understood in its own right.The image introduced in the following lines has been thought to present a deliberate point of contrast in the matter of the sculptor's fingernails:ingenium misera quia fortunatius artecredit et excludit sanos Helicone poetasDemocritus, bona pars non ungues ponere curat,non barbam, secreta petit loca, balnea vitat.(AP 295–98)Because Democritus believes that it's luckier to possess talentthan mere skill, and denies a place on Helicon to sane poets,a good number of artists make a point of not cutting their nailsor trimming their beards, but head for secret haunts and avoid baths.Despite the verbal echo, the change of tone and context at this point rules out any straightforward association of the unguem in line 294 with the ungues in line 297.6 Horace's humorous sketch of those "artistic types" who model their insalubrious habits on a superficial view of Democritean inspiration initiates a new section of the poem.7 It looks forward to a fuller consideration of the relative value of ars and ingenium, about which in due course Horace gives his opinion as follows:natura fieret laudabile carmen an artequaesitum est. ego nec studium sine divite venanec rude quid possit video ingenium; alterius sicaltera poscit opem res et coniurat amice.(AP 408–11) [End Page 412]The question is: Is good poetry due to nature or art?I myself fail to see what artistry can achieve without a rich vein of natural ability,or raw talent without application, to such a degree does the one attributedraw upon the other and make common cause with it.The only other instance of ad unguem in Horace is in Satires 1.5, where the phrase similarly appears tout court, conjoined to a past participle in a construction which parallels praesectum... ad unguem as construed above: interea Maecenas advenit atqueCocceius Capitoque simul Fonteius, ad unguemfactus homo, Antoni non ut magis alter amicus.(Sat. 1.5.31–33) Meanwhile Maecenas arrives andCocceius, and with them Fonteius Capito, a manof such consummate charm that Antony holds none dearer.Whether ad unguem here refers to physical or intellectual refinement (or both), the connotation "to perfection" is evident. Commentators ancient and modern have generally supposed that the metaphor is best explained by the image which Persius, writing around a century later, developed in his First Satire:quis populi sermo est? quis enim, nisi carmina mollinunc demum numero fluere, ut per leve severoseffundat iunctura ungues?(Sat. 1.63–65)"What's the word from the general public? "What else, but thatnow at last there are verses so fluent that no join jars criticalfingernails as they glide across the smooth surface.In commenting on AP 294, Ps.–Acro adduced this precisely evocative idea of "critical fingernails" for Horace's use of ad unguem:"ad unguem": tractum a... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Christology and EthicsLindsey EsbensenChristology and Ethics Edited by F. Leron Shults and Brent Waters Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2010. 231 pp. $28.00.This collection of essays is a welcome venture into the often-neglected relationship between Christology and ethics. The book stresses that the reciprocal relationship between Christology and Christian moral discernment needs greater attention as well as creative reformulation. The essays produce a variety of models of how other (...) disciplines provide the critical and constructive developments that can strengthen the bond between Christology and the Christian moral life. Rather than a definitive resolution to the “problem” of these Christian disciplines, the book is an invitation to further inquiry, an offer to join the conversation.Although the contributors to this anthology present disparate analyses, they share the goal of integrating interdisciplinary developments in the engagement of Christology and ethics. While each author shares similar departure points for these essays, the conclusions are vastly diverse for each contributor. This is in part because the essays draw from a broad range of sources, from the theological to the scientific. One chapter incorporates developments in the field of psychoanalysis in a discussion of the Christian emphasis on participation in the “new creation” through Jesus Christ, who is akin to the psychoanalytic “third” (121). Another chapter applies evolutionary epistemology and evolutionary ethics to a discussion of the ongoing social mediation and cultural reinterpretation of what it means to “do as Jesus did” (178). Underlying all the expositions is an affirmation that ethics and Christology mutually instruct and challenge each other (98). [End Page 211]Despite the integral connection among the essays, some underlying tensions remain. For instance, Brent Waters’s “The Incarnation and the Moral Life” strongly emphasizes the distinction between the civil community and the church, between the City of Man and the City of God (30). The church is the body of Christ that ministers to the world; therefore, “the singular ministry of the baptized engages, evangelizes, and orders the world in the name and under the authority of Jesus Christ” (21). All moral discernment outside of that with Christological foundations falls short of its goal. Conversely, Jan-Olav Henriksen’s “The Surprise of Judgment and Justice” suggests a much more inclusive view of non-Christian (and non-Christological) contributions to ethics in his interpretation of Matthew 25. Using the imago Dei as the springboard for his analysis, the world is envisioned as God’s gift, and the other (the neighbor) is the imago Dei who calls for recognition. Henriksen contends, “Because Christ is the true image of God, all of humanity is related to him, and is in some sense represented in him.... Christ is the face of every other human—as the one who calls us to mercy, compassion, and love” (142). Christian moral action, then, “is not only determined by you, it is determined by them and their calling of you” (141). In this sense, then, the church does not minister to the world, but the world ministers to the church in helping her to recognize the world as God’s gift and to see the image of God in the neighbor.While the emphases of the various proposals in this collection of essays may produce tensions, the strain is actually a positive contribution to the overall project. The anthology seeks to examine the most significant issues in the relationship between Christology and ethics without necessarily providing a conclusive resolution to how these disciplines mutually inform and reinforce each other. This collection of essays begins a conversation and invites further investigation of the various lines of inquiry.As with any anthology, each essay will have a greater or lesser appeal to the reader according to his interests. Nonetheless, this collection of essays is a unique contribution to systematic and moral theology, and it is an indispensable anthology for those pursuing Christology or ethics for their future endeavors. [End Page 212]Lindsey EsbensenUniversity of Notre DameCopyright © 2012 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Bataille and Mysticism: A “Dazzling Dissolution”Amy Hollywood (bio)Within Georges Bataille’s texts of the late 1930s and 1940s, in particular those later brought together in the tripartite Atheological Summa, he repeatedly suggests that his primary models for writing and experience are the texts of the Christian and non-Western mystical traditions (often represented, in Bataille, by women’s writings) and those of Friedrich Nietzsche. 1 Inner Experience opens with evocations of Nietzsche, (...) and the final volume of the trilogy, On Nietzsche, is “devoted” to his work. References to mystical writings occur throughout Inner Experience and Guilty, and significant portions of both texts can be read as providing “guides” for inner experience analogous to the “itineraries” of Angela of Foligno (d. 1309) and Teresa of Avila (d. 1582) or as spiritual daybooks like those of Mechthild of Magdeburg (d. ca. 1275). These models are, I think, the key to understanding Bataille’s own writing strategies in the Atheological Summa. 2 Despite their apparent divergence, moreover, Bataille insists that mystical and Nietzschean texts reflect and are constitutive of the same experience and writing practice.Like both Nietzsche and the mystics, Bataille’s “antigeneric” writing mixes genres and styles within and between texts. 3 Throughout the course of his career, experience and writing are in a constant state of movement, flux, or chaos (to echo Bataille’s self-description in On Nietzsche). The Atheological Summa encapsulates within what purport to be three unified books the diversity of genres and styles that run throughout Bataille’s corpus as a whole. They contain ample quotation of Nietzsche’s texts and those of the mystics—undigested hunks and fragments of these allusive writings 4 —together with philosophical reflections, confessional meditations, diary fragments, letters, and, at the end of On Nietzsche, a set of six brief historical and theoretical appendices. Anything broaching traditional textual commentary is reserved for the margins of these nonbooks. Like many mystics, particularly women who were denied access to the traditional genres of sermon, biblical commentary, and philosophical or theological treatise, and like Nietzsche, who eschews and subverts traditional genre distinctions, Bataille comments and critiques through practice rather than exposition. Although Bataille acknowledges the oddity of his coupling the mystics and Nietzsche, he also rigorously defends it, arguing for a mystical and ecstatic experience in Nietzsche’s work. 5 As I hope to show, Bataille’s [End Page 74] experience of the failures of mysticism and of Nietzsche speak to each other and lead to Bataille’s necessary apostasy as his true discipleship.Repetition of the divergences between Bataille and the mystics, first stated by Bataille himself in Inner Experience, has become something of a commonplace, yet his claims have not been sufficiently explored or challenged. So, for example, Alain Arnauld and Giséle Excoffon-Lafarge unproblematically assert that despite all proximities between Bataille’s texts and those of the mystics, they differ in their aims or aimlessness. Michel Surya joins a host of other scholars whose primary concern is to demonstrate (against the insinuations of Sartre, made now almost fifty years ago) that Bataille was not a Christian. Whereas the mystics’ path ends with the divine encounter, Bataille renounces all objects, aims, or end for his quest and his desire. 6 Most importantly, he rejects all idealism and any hope for salvation. Bataille himself insists on his divergence from the Christian mystics in Inner Experience and Guilty. At the same time, his citations and mimings of central texts from the Christian mystical tradition show that what fascinates him within these writings is precisely the moment in which the soul desires “to live without a why,” embracing the suffering of hell—understood as the absence of/from the “object” of desire—as desire. 7 In a move later echoed by Jacques Lacan, Bataille claims that some medieval mystics attained that beyond of which he writes, but without knowing anything about it: “Exuberance is the point where we let go of Christianity. Angela of Foligno attained it and described it, but didn’t know it.” 8Commentators follow Bataille in resisting his identification with the mystics, then, whereas Nietzsche is a less troubling model for Bataille and his readers. In fact, Bataille... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's most successful (...) philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Nonviolence—A Brief History: The Warsaw Lectures by John Howard YoderCarter AikinNonviolence—A Brief History: The Warsaw Lectures John Howard Yoder Edited By Paul Martens, Matthew Porter, and Myles Werntz Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2010. 150 pp. $29.95This helpful collection of lectures, delivered during a 1983 Polish Ecumenical Council (PEC) conference in Warsaw, displays John Howard Yoder’s emerging conviction that nonviolent action is not only a faithful response but (...) also an anthropologically natural and effective instrument of social change. Yoder constructively narrates the joining of theological and philosophical clarity about the importance of nonviolence with realizations of its social effectiveness as this connection blossomed in the turmoil of the twentieth century.The introduction nicely situates these lectures in their original social and ecumenical contexts, both of which turn out to be tremendously important. Yoder gave these lectures just weeks before Pope John Paul II met with the PEC for the first time and during the period when the US Catholic Bishop’s letter, “The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response” was being formed. Additionally, in 1983 the vulnerable Polish Communist Party was trying to suppress the rising Solidarity Movement, the country’s first noncommunist trade union. The movement’s protests and strikes had only recently gained media attention [End Page 216] and had, thus far, stopped short of violence. In its setting alone, the collection offers a Yoder rarely seen through his modern interpreters: Yoder is socially relevant in the highest degree, concerned with the effectiveness of non-violence as a means of change, more than willing to incorporate the wisdom of non-Christian masters, and attentive to the response of the entire church catholic. Here Yoder is no more the resident alien than Martin Luther King Jr. was on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.Yoder begins with a three-lecture equation: Tolstoy + Gandhi = MLK. Tolstoy’s corrective interpretations of the Gospels—emphasizing the personhood of Jesus and “the ‘key’ to the Scripture message: the cure for evil is suffering” (21)—used nonviolence and the suffering of the persecuted as the fabric of moral progress. Gandhi “moves with Tolstoy, but beyond him” (24); he sees the power of truth and suffering as a natural force of good. Martin Luther King Jr. becomes Tolstoy + Gandhi, championing the power of love and non-violence as faithful but also practical and metaphysically natural. Much of the book provides theological, scriptural, socioanthropological, and historical arguments for why this is the case. Yoder’s treatments of the “powers” (chap. 8), just war (chap. 4), and the political nature of Jesus (chap. 7) are all paralleled elsewhere, but their inclusion is important to the modern reader who wishes to trace the logic of Yoder’s present argument and the evolution of his overall thought.In the closing chapters Yoder turns to flourishing nonviolence movements in Roman Catholicism that exhibit a “restoration of original Christianity” (120). He highlights several facets of Catholic nonviolent spirituality including the valuing of the cultivation of virtues (and the people who best exhibit them), the growth of the nonviolence movement among American Catholics, and the emergence of the Catholic Worker movement. In the final two chapters, Yoder brings into conversation a few Western theologians, the “increasingly important” products of American bishops (especially in their argument for the limits of just war thinking in the nuclear age), and two prophetic Latin American theologians: Dom Hélder Câmara and Adolfo Pérez Esquivel. Together this assembled chorus expresses the unique and hope-giving character of modern Catholic theologies of nonviolence: “love, not violence... will have the last word in history” (145).As a collection these lectures represent a part of Yoder’s emerging hope in the natural logic of nonviolence and its potential for effective social change. The fact that these lectures were delivered in such a highly charged setting provides a courageous and pastoral backdrop for what amounts to a rich metaphysics of nonviolence. [End Page 217]Carter AikinHastings CollegeCopyright © 2013 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:…duplici modo Daemon homini carnaliter copulatur:Ludovico Maria Sinistrari's Alternative to Apostasy and Sorcery in Human-Incubus IntercourseBert RoestLodovico Maria Sinistrari d'Ameno (1632-1701), who joined the Riformati branch in 1647 in the Pavian Provincia di S. Diego, is one of the many productive seventeenth-century Franciscan authors whose works are not habitually discussed within the world of Franciscan scholarship. According to the existing bibliographical guides, Sinistrari authored under his own name and (...) under various pseudonyms (such as Panfilo, Clodoveo Farvamondi, Nicolò Turris, Lazaro Socio, and Lazaro Agostino Cotta) about 34 works, more or less half of which reached the printing press during his lifetime. These works cover a wide range of genres and topics, including comedies, religious and secular dramas, astrological, astronomical and scientific works (including polemics against works of other scholars, medical and embryological papers), defenses of the religious orders, sermons and funerary orations, treatises of sacramental theology, some atypical hagiographical texts, and works of religious disciplinary law. This production was linked to his acknowledged expertise in a variety of disciplines, which apparently made him a celebrated lecturer in Pavia within the order and in public schools, teaching the liberal arts, geometry, military architecture and theology. Some of his works are connected with his activities as a preacher, advisor, and later censor for the Holy Office, practicing exorcist, consultant for the Franciscan Minister General, and personal theologian of Alessandro Montecatini (Archbishop of Avignon) and Federico Caccia (Cardinal and Archbishop of Milan).1Within the order itself, his most enduring legacy might have been his three volume Practica criminalis illustrata, a work that is both a commentary on penal law within the Franciscan order, and a more wide-ranging manual for dealing with penitential and religious-criminal issues, written [End Page 191] to supplant older handbooks of such kind. He was initially tasked to compile such materials at the Franciscan general chapter celebrated at Rome in 1688. The first two volumes of the Practica criminalis illustrata appeared in print in 1693. They were again published posthumously in 1702.2 In between he finished another volume of the Practica with a somewhat different focus, also known under the title De delictis et poenis tractatus absolutissimus, and which was proposed as a useful guidebook for judges, lawyers, and prelates in ecclesiastical courts, as well as for confessors, exorcists, and lay practitioners of law. This work was issued for the first time in 1700.3Although a wished-for early eighteenth-century re-issue of this multi-volume Practica criminalis illustrata was put on hold when it was placed on the index of forbidden books in March 1709 donec corrigatur for suspicion of laxist tendencies,4 all three volumes did appear again with some modifications in a 1753-1754 opera omnia edition. It could be found in a significant number of Franciscan and non-Franciscan order libraries, and apparently remained for a long time an important resource for penitential and disciplinary policies.5 [End Page 192]Whereas Sinistrari, like so many early modern friars, is not a commanding presence in the scholarly and literary canon of present-day Franciscan order history, he became a figure of some fascination and even notoriety in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century esoteric circles, and also is known by modern scholars of early modern demonology and early modern sexuality. This is mainly due to the publication, in the later nineteenth century, of two of Sinistrari's works on demoniality and sodomy that as such were not printed in full during our friar's lifetime, but parts of which are included in Titulus 4 of his Latin De delictis et poenis tractatus absolutissimus, namely the crimes against chastity (which in De delictis et poenis, alongside of daemonialitas [which comes last], comprises constortium suspectum, sollecitatio ad turpia, fornicatio, stuprum, incestus, raptus, clausurae violatio, sacrilegium cum moniali, mollities, sodomia, and bestialitas).Hence, in 1875, the French book collector and editor Isidore Liseux issued for the first time De la démonialité et des animaux incubes et succubes où l'on prouve qu'il existe sur terre des créatures raisonnables autres que l'homme, ayant comme lui un corps et une âme, naissant et mourant comme... (shrink)

Error theories have been proposed and defended in several different areas of philosophy. In addition to ethics, there are error theories about numbers, color, free will, and personal identity. Moral error theories differ in scope. Theories at one end of the spectrum take normative judgments in general—of which moral judgments are a subclass—to be uniformly false, whereas theories at the other end of the spectrum take only a subclass of moral judgments—example those concerning duty and obligation, but not those concerning (...) virtue and vice—to be uniformly false. Moral error theorists typically join forces with non-naturalist realists, against naturalism and non-cognitivism. Facts that are normative in the reason-implying sense are irreducibly normative, and they are very different. Many non-naturalist realists and error theorists maintain that it is impossible to give a plausible naturalistic account of moral facts, precisely because they are irreducibly normative; moral naturalism therefore falls prey to the "normativity objection". (shrink)

The idea of basic action is a fixed point in the contemporary investigation of the nature of action. And while there are arguments aimed at putting the idea in place, it is meant to be closer to a gift of common sense than to a hard-won achievement of philosophical reflection. It first appears at the stage of innocuous description and before the announcement of philosophical positions. And yet, as any decent magician knows, the real work so often gets done in (...) the set-up. I argue that the seemingly innocent idea of basic action is, in fact, bound up with a wide-spread conception of the nature of bodily or physical action (section 3). Its legitimacy is vital to the intelligibility of the causal theory of action, according to which physical action consists of a mere event and a condition of mind joined (in the right way) by the bond of causality. Left unchecked, means-end reason threatens to permeate physical action, and thus threatens the sovereignty of the sphere of material events at the center of the causal theory: such events, including the movements of one’s body when one intentionally moves it, are thought to be constitutively independent of the subject’s rational capacities. Basic action is a necessary countermeasure, a sort of metaphysical containment wall needed to preserve the separate jurisdictions of the mind of the acting subject and what merely happens. I argue that so long as action theory proceeds under the assumption that there must be basic action, it must regard our relation to the progress of our own deeds as not different in principle from Marx’s understanding of the relation of the non-worker (Nichtarbeiter) to the material processes that realize his own ideas, namely the work done on the factory floor. Each is alienated from the progress, or getting done, of his deeds. In each the process of doing something intentionally turns out to be a case of delegating tasks to another power. How the process comes to completion is not willed, and at best watched: the causal work is not the agent’s work, his knowledge not self-knowledge (section 5). We should find this unacceptable. And if this is right, it should be a pressing question whether there must be basic action. I argue that we have no good reason to think so: basic action is not forced on us by argument (sections 2 and 4). It is open to us to consider an alternative, one on which action is not, in the fundamental case, barren of means- end structure, but instead permeated by it: we register as a force in nature not at the limit of the means-end order but precisely in its constitution. [from article introduction]. (shrink)

The work of the French philosopher Jean-Luc Nancy shares with the thinkers of the ‘theological turn in phenomenology’ the programmatic desire to place the ‘theological’, in the broad sense of rethinking the religious traditions in our secular time, back on the agenda of critical thought. Like those advocating a theological turn in phenomenology, Nancy’s deconstructive approach to philosophical analysis aims to develop a new sensibility for the other, for transcendence, conceptualized as the non-apparent in the realm of appearing phenomena. This (...) is why Nancy launches a project looking for the ‘unthought’ and unexpected within the Christian traditions, called deconstruction of Christianity. However, the deconstructive approach to the non-apparent differs fundamentally from that of the thinkers of the turn (1) in its being non-apologetic and non-restorative with regard to religion, because it starts from a problematization of the—typically modern, that is romantic—desire to defend and protect what would be ‘lost’ and possibly to restore this, (2) in its focus on the complex difference-at-work (différance) between religion and secularism, a difference that can be termed entanglement and complicity between these two, (3) in its hypothesis that this entanglement is essentially one between (the meaning and experience of, the rituality around) presence and absence in modern culture, (4) in its conviction that the philosophy and history of culture must join, support, complete and maybe even turn around phenomenology when dealing with the difficult task of determining what exactly would be ‘left’ of the ‘theological’ in our time. In this article, both positions are compared and confronted further, leading to an account of Nancy’s re-readings of the Christian legacy (its theology, doctrine, art, rituals etc.), and ending in a more detailed, exemplary inquiry into the tension between distance and proximity, characteristic of the Christian God. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Causes of WarBertrand RussellRussell’s authorship of this anonymously published entry in An Encylopaedia of Pacifism (London: Chatto & Windus, 1937), pp. 12–13, has only just come to light, thanks to the recent sale at auction of a letter to him from Aldous Huxley. If this determination had been made earlier, the text would have featured in Papers 21. In acknowledging receipt of “Causes of War” on 14 December 1936, (...) Huxley, the volume’s editor, also wondered whether Russell would like to examine his subject “at greater length—say in 1,000 words” (internet print, ra3 1,850). The original editorial plan, to which Russell must have adhered, allocated a single page to each topic, which ranged alphabetically from “Armaments, Private Manufacture of”, to “Women in Modern War, Position of”. But as Huxley explained, such compression was “impossible” for some subjects. Russell evidently declined the offer (no reply is extant), for his published contribution amounted to 300 words only. It nevertheless lucidly distils a complex and contested issue. In the spirit of the publishing enterprise Russell had joined, “Causes of War” is also somewhat didactic. Yet there is little hint of either the psychological predispositions towards war he also regarded as crucial, or the absolute pacifist doctrines he had recently embraced and elaborated in Which Way to Peace? (1936). The latter ground, however, was well covered elsewhere, in entries on “Force” and “Non-Violence”, most explicitly, but also in those disparaging armed revolution, for example, or the use of sanctions to enforce international law.The two cross references at the end of Russell’s entry are probably not authorial. The text presented below is the only known version, from the cheap softcover edition of the Encyclopaedia (priced 6d ) published by Chatto & Windus under the auspices of the Peace Pledge Union—the British pacifist group of which both Huxley and Russell were sponsors, along with, in all likelihood, other of the work’s anonymous contributors. [End Page 83]CAUSES OF WARThe main causes of war are of three kinds (1) the pursuit of wealth, (2) the pursuit of glory, (3) the advocacy of a creed. Usually all three are combined in varying proportions, as, for example in the Book of Joshua. The economic motive has various forms:a. Occupation of fruitful territory—e.g. Whites and Indians in United States.b. Plunder—e.g. Romans in Asia Minor; Cortez and Pisarro.c. Trade—e.g. English and Dutch in seventeenth century.d. Markets and fields for investment—most modern imperialist wars.e. Raw materials—e.g. Japan in China, France and Germany as regards Lorraine.The notion of glory is usually dynastic or governmental—for example, the ancient Assyrians and Persians, and eighteenth-century wars so far as the Continent of Europe is concerned. But it can be made popular by propaganda, and always has been made so since the French Revolution.Creed wars may be religious or political; usually they are both. They almost always also have economic motives. The early Mohammedans, for example, had economic motives (a) and (b); the Protestants wished to secure church lands and revenues; and so on. The English Civil War combined religious and political motives in equal measure. The Albigensian crusade was, on the part of the instigators, more economic than political. The French revolutionary wars, the American Civil War, and the various civil wars since 1815, involved important politico-economic issues, and were all, in a greater or less degree, creed wars.The main causes predisposing to modern war are: first, the competition between States for markets and raw materials; secondly, the competition between classes as regards the distribution of the national wealth. These two causes are intertwined, because different governments stand for different economic systems. (See Economic Reform and Pacifism; Education and Peace.) [End Page 84]Bertrand RussellIntroduced by andrew g. bone Russell Research Centre / McMaster U. [email protected] © 2023 Bertrand Russell Research Centre, McMaster University... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Transgressive Translations:Parrhesia and the Politics of Being UnderstoodTim R. JohnstonAuthor And Activist Julia Serano’s spoken word poem “Performance Piece” is a smart and passionate polemic against people who say that “all gender is performance” (Serano 2010, 85). In response to those who treat gender as an endlessly mutable fiction, performance, or facade Serano says:Sure, I can perform gender: I can curtsy, or throw like a girl, or bat my (...) eyelashes. But performance doesn’t explain why certain behaviors and ways of being come to me more naturally than others. It offers no insight into the countless restless nights I spent as a pre-teen wrestling with the inexplicable feeling that I should be female. It doesn’t capture the very real physical and emotional changes that I experienced when I hormonally transitioned from testosterone to estrogen. (Serano 2010, 85–86)My first reaction to this understanding of performativity was to get defensive, immediately thinking of all the ways in which it reflects a poor reading of Judith Butler and is an incorrect use of the concept. Yet, to make that argument would mean arriving late to the party. Many theorists, notably Jay Prosser and Viviane Namaste, have made similar arguments about performativity to which Butler and many others have responded. I am not interested in joining this debate by defending or critiquing performativity; instead, I want to take seriously Serano’s criticism of the way performativity functions as a “mantra” for [End Page 84] “queerer-than-thou hipsters” (Serano 2010, 87). The fact is, concepts that help people make sense of their experience are often taken up piecemeal. They gain traction, get printed on posters, discussed in safe-spaces, taught in intro classes, and yelled at parents. They take on a life of their own and are queered again and again. It may not be anyone’s fault that performativity has come to signify a kind of insincerity, detachment from the body, linguistic constructionism, or a play of surfaces, but for many people this is exactly what it means. What follows is inspired by the questions at the heart of Serano’s poem: “Can’t we find new ways of speaking? Shouldn’t we be championing new slogans that empower all of us, whether trans or non-trans, queer or straight, female and/or male and/ or none of the above?” (Serano 2010, 87). I depart slightly from Serano insofar as I am not interested in replacing performativity as a concept. Instead, I am interested in locating other concepts that could be useful in understanding and communicating our multiple experiences of gender.Serano’s concern is not only the depth and conviction with which she experiences gender, but also the communicability of this conviction. We are social beings. We seek out the company of other people, animals, and objects. In order to flourish we need to feel understood by our surroundings. We are creatures that need to be connected, and connection requires translating our subjective experiences into a communicable, socially understandable register. How does this translation occur? How do we make ourselves understandable? What external forces regulate or influence this translation? And, crucially, how can we construct philosophical concepts that do justice to our need to feel that our interior selves are understood? What concept could we cast out into the world that might answer Serano’s call for new ways of speaking? What follows is an attempt to think through this question by looking at the relationship between the medicalization of trans people, Michel Foucault’s writings on parrhesia, and coming out.The first half of this essay examines the ways in which the medical apparatus that manages transitioning attempts to control transsexual coming-out narratives, an example of what Foucault calls biopower. I argue that the medicalization of transitioning has created a legible transsexual identity structured on the distance between our interiority and the world external to the self. The trans person’s claims about their interior sense of self are the only evidence needed to access medical technologies such as hormone therapy or surgery. But oftentimes such claims are only accepted as valid if they conform to certain scripts—scripts that are... (shrink)

“Artworks are not being but a process of becoming” —Theodor W. Adorno, Aesthetic Theory In the everyday use of the concept, saying that something is grotesque rarely implies anything other than saying that something is a bit outside of the normal structure of language or meaning – that something is a peculiarity. But in its historical use the concept has often had more far reaching connotations. In different phases of history the grotesque has manifested its forms as a means of (...) subversive resistance against society’s prevailing notions of form and power. What aids this impact and distinguishes two of its basic stylistic features is the grotesque’s dissolution of form and its hyperbole. Such grotesqueries, however, soon solidify into new forms, new structures of meaning, hierarchy and practice, and in this sense the history of the grotesque is, on one hand, a continual opposition and transgression of the prevailing notions of art as well as of God and humanity, while on the other hand it offers continual resistance to its own solidifying process. As such the grotesque will not and cannot be contained in form without it losing the very thing that makes it grotesque. Even though it is somewhat easy to point out certain stylistic features of the grotesque, the sum of those features tell us very little about what is at play within it. Definitions concerned with the grotesque’s content rather than its form faces similar difficulties. Throughout history, expressions relating to the grotesque have been used in defense of a whole host of different social and cultural discourse including, for instance, Catholicism (See Erhard Schön’s Der Teufel mit der Sackpfeife , 1536), Protestantism (See Lucas Cranach’s Der Papstesel , 1523), a material folk culture (see Mikhail Bakhtin’s Rabelais and his World , 1984) and an idealistic romantic structure of meaning (see Wolfgang Kayser’s The Grotesque in Art and Literature , 1957). Thus though the grotesque cannot be reduced to the expression of certain forms or meanings, in order to examine what the grotesque is about one has to try to see how it’s relationship to flow and process and how, by maintaining this relationship, it attempts to avoid solidifying into form and meaning. The process of the grotesque alluded to here revolves around a play between periphery and center, the marginalized and the dominant. Most often this is expressed as a direct negation of the center of power. In the medieval grotesque tradition of the carnival, for example, it is expressed by its emphasis on the nether regions of the body as the center of creation of meaning. Spirit does not come from above, but from the belly, buttocks and genitals, and there is, expressed in this manner, a mockery of the predominant Christian notion of truth and meaning. Such inversions of the sites of meaning most often explicitly express an increased interest in materiality instead of ideal content which comes to the fore through the play between periphery and center. Even in early grotesque Renaissance art (for example in the works of Raphael) the depiction of the mythological or ideal reveals an exploration of the possibilities of the material. The works of art thus explore their own boundaries rather than act as vessels of the divine and in this way the grotesque explores the limits of form and materiality. This in turn brings to the fore a metaphysical dimension in the workings of the grotesque: It is an immanent exploration of its own boundaries. Materiality and metaphysics are joined together, because it is through the awareness of itself as a structuring (dis)order that it places itself in opposition to the prevailing notions of form and power. This way the grotesque expresses an awareness of the division of sign and reality and a search for this reality. It implicitly expresses the awareness that meaning is not something God-given and static, but fluctuating and man-made. In modern explorations of the history of the grotesque it is commonly seen as a form of realism that manifests a shift from the ideal towards the material, freeing art from representing some hidden higher order and instead making the work of art the very site of creation and meaning. Going even further, the grotesque actively opposes the notions of the ideal by marking a shift from an ahistorical view of the world towards the historical. However, this also makes clear why the grotesque has a tendency to solidify into new static forms of meaning, for by establishing itself as a subversive counterforce there is an idea of transgression and emancipation. That is why the grotesque often historicizes and relativizes only to repeat the mistakes of that which it negates: putting itself in the king’s chair. The exploration of the material seems to create new forms and notions of the ideal. The representation of an otherness outside the prevailing notions of meaning and truth becomes a positive manifestation of this otherness as truth itself. Thus the historical “truths” of the grotesque are superseded by history itself. When the expressions of the grotesque solidify into static form and meaning, they become mere objects like anything else in the world. Instead of being this elusive thing of process and flow, it becomes tangible to the existing hierarchy of power as well as history itself. In this way the grotesque can be expunged, included or simply revealed as yet another false notion of truth, which is precisely what has happened with the grotesque throughout the course of history. If from the beginning the expression of the grotesque has not already been in the service of some structure of meaning and truth, it has quickly been included or has quickly included itself in such a structure. But by doing so it rejects its own basis: the tension between periphery and center is replaced by the attempt to create a new center, a new structure of meaning and truth. The doubleness, ambiguity and flow of the grotesque are then rejected by the grotesque itself. THE NON-FORM OF FORM In the critical thinking of Theodor W. Adorno (1903-69) the problem of art, caught between a reductive and prevalent notion of truth and meaning and a peripheral and alienated otherness, is reexamined and reformulated. For Adorno, the instrumental rationality of Enlightenment itself reverts into a new form of mythology which is every bit as static and exclusive as the hierarchies of religion it supersedes. All is excluded that is non-identical to the instrumental mastery of the objects of the world, "For the Enlightenment, anything which cannot be resolved into numbers, and ultimately into one, is illusion; modern positivism consigns it to poetry." 1 As such the non-identical has been banished from the realm of thought and action, and banished specifically to the realm of art. But the realm of art is not able to provide a decent home for it because even modern art is not something entirely autonomous. While it is excluded from the notions of truth and meaning provided by instrumental rationality, it still originates from society. Just like instrumental rationality art is about mastery, structuring and exclusion. Therefore, the problem for art is that it cannot directly provide a space for the non-identical because its mode of operation is similar to that of instrumental rationality. Even worse, art has very few possibilities to free itself from this. If it becomes l’art pour l’art it is at the same time reduced to the very thing instrumental rationality claims it to be: a subjective judgment of taste.expressionism also stands as an example of this. Conversely, art cannot work within the framework of the identity-thinking of society, because any notion of freedom or emancipation would reproduce the exclusive practices of instrumental rationality. For example: Explicit socialist literature may establish itself in opposition to instrumental rationality while at the same time reproducing it. Its language may seem different, but in reality it merely provides a different set of reductive schematics for human life and experience. The problem for the art of the grotesque was, as I mentioned earlier, that far too often it was merely a symbolic manifestation of a notion of otherness—not otherness itself. Because of this the subversive character of the grotesque ends up shaping and containing otherness instead of providing a space for it. According to Adorno the only way to avoid this is to radicalize the grotesque. In order to avoid solidifying into form the work of art has to be an object which cannot be contained in thought or form—a non-form of form. The work of art has to work in a way that it strives for autonomy but without entirely leaving a discernible reality. In other words, it has to pull in two directions at once. Thus the work of art is a paradox. It is autonomous in the sense that it closes itself off from everything outside of the work of art, trying to shy away from the contaminating influence of the identity thinking of instrumental rationality. At the same time though the work of art is heteronomous in the sense that it originates from a specific historical context and is bound to be what society is not. Autonomy and heteronomy are inseparably intertwined. Unable to display otherness itself, but still trying to be a refuge for it, there is only one option for art: It has to turn against itself and destroy its own logic of form, thereby demonstrating how any representation of otherness is impossible. Art becomes a lamentation of the victims of the identity thinking of instrumental rationality and shows the traces of the otherness that is unable to appear. Adorno’s pessimistic theory of art and history stages art as a negative dialectical process where the work of art closes itself off and rejects everything outside, while the individual elements in the work of art destroys its very own logic of form from within: Artworks synthetize ununifiable, nonidentical elements that grind away at each other; they truly seek the identity of the identical and nonidentical processually because even their unity is only an element and not the magical formula of the whole […]. The resistance to them of otherness, on which they are nevertheless dependent compels them to articulate their own formal language, to leave not the smallest unformed particle as remnant. This reciprocity constitutes art’s dynamic; it is an irresolvable antithesis that is never brought to rest in the state of being. 2 Relative to a traditional understanding of the grotesque, Adorno radicalizes the tension between center and periphery, autonomy and heteronomy. In the traditional understanding of the grotesque, as we find it for example in the writings of Mikhail Bakhtin, the grotesque establishes the display of otherness as a new center of meaning and truth. However Adorno rejects such notions and argues instead for a modernism of the grotesque in which both center and periphery are included in a negative dialectical process and continually synthesizing and destabilizing each other’s positions. A modernism of the grotesque works on the inside of the sign or the artwork, continually outlining and questioning the boundaries between materiality and form. This moves the focus away from the relation between the sign or work of art as a conceptual manifestation on one side and the object it refers to on the other side. Instead it implicitly points to the amorphous mass from which the signs and thereby meaning have been carved, the remnants that have been left behind. Modernism of the grotesque does not imply that it is emancipatory or that it reconciles man with nature, and does not represent a new position or a new ideology. It merely remembers and insists on the double nature of man and art: to write or paint yourself or an artwork whole by inscribing meaning in life or by applying form on a canvas is at the same time both creation and destruction. The very signs we use to center meaning in our lives carry its own alienation in them. Meaning surfaces only when process and flow comes to a halt—solidifying, but at the same time excluding parts that do not fit into that particular structure of meaning. NOTHING DONE AND NOTHING UNDONE It has always been difficult for art historians to find a suitable category for the works of the Danish artist Leif Lage (b. 1933). In his paintings the sensitive figuration seems so fragile that it is on the verge of turning into abstraction. Or conversely: the figurative emerges cautiously and hesitantly out of abstraction. As an art critic once wrote, he can almost paint things away. 3 Working in some undefinable space between abstraction and figuration, the Lage’s works shy away from the realm of words, and as a result few critics have been able to write anything meaningful about his works. In fact even fewer have been able to write more than one or two pages. The Danish author and art critic Leif Hjernøe is one of those few, but even he starts off by saying how impossible it is to write about Lage, confessing that his works exist both as process and in a field of in-between which words cannot reach. He writes: Always you find yourself in a place where nothing is done and nothing left undone, and where the elements of the work of art rest in a continuous motion. Always there is the open wound, where infection rather than surgical intervention is considered as an opportunity. And the conflict between matter and antimatter makes all diagnoses uncertain and allows conditions of uncertainty to spread in a place of raw presence. 4 The art works against the diagnosis and the certainty. Words are being eaten up by what is outside the realm of words: tension, process and doubleness. An approach to an understanding of the work of Lage could be to follow his connection to Samuel Beckett (1906-89). One can note, therefore, that Lage has illustrated several of the Danish translations of Beckett’s works. Though one is an author and the other a painter both seek a place where figuration, where the word, erodes. For both this entails an attempt to question and examine and so move in behind the façade of the surface in an exploration of that something or nothing that may be behind representation. At the same time even in the vanishing point of figuration or words, the meaningless words or the disjointed lines still stand as signs of human activity—signs of movement in emptiness. With very few exceptions Lage’s artworks revolve around one motif: Man—most often “en face.” But unlike traditional portraitures Lage’s people are found within. The artworks do not sense the reality of appearances, but rather the existential dimensions within man. As a seismograph they are sensitive to the utmost subjectivity in order to display an objective, sensuous depiction of the very problem of subjectivity. Instead of a static façade of a man, Lage’s “en face” shows the process-character of man. The people in Lage’s paintings are always in process—in the midst of becoming or dissolving. I will take a closer look in the following at the ways in which Lage establishes this sense of being in constant process, of being in-between modes or categories. THE DOUBLENESS OF THE STROKE Lage’s etchings attract attention in particular for the tension conveyed there between the material and the form. The material physically opposes the violence of the needle. But instead of embracing the violence of the needle and the victory over matter—instead of making the artistic creation and figuration express a heroic mastery of the background it is made out of—Lage uses the stroke to express the very tension between stroke and material, figuration and background. In the drypoint etching Untitled from 1983, which illustrated the Danish translation of Beckett’s Ill Seen, Ill Said , the needle tears up the material in long rough lines: Together, the primarily horizontal and vertical lines form a face. Thus the force needed to etch a line in the metal-plate draws attention to itself: It is there in the absence of curves and nuances. Man emerges on the metal-plate after great exertion and in a very simplistic form. This way Lage enhances the nature of the material, as the material’s resistance is not something to overcome. On the contrary the figuration is smitten by its very resistance and as such expresses the violence of its own becoming. Even more pronounced is the fact that the lines do not just show the violence of creation—it actively erases figuration in the same process that creates it. For example the mouth consists of 8-10 horizontal strokes, of which some seem to be connected to each other as if the mouth has been quickly scratched out. The mouth speaks of the inability to speak. In the same way, the eyes are black holes due to a large amount of criss-cross cuts, which together form a dark middle. Those lines, at the same time, form the eyes of the figuration and scratch out the eyes of the figuration. The extroverted aspects of the face—connected to speech and sight—are portrayed as introverted as well. Just as the etchings down into the metal-plate makes something appear. Leif Lage, Untitled , 1983 (etching) The figuration of the etching is connected to creation. It expresses that something is wrought into existence out of nothing by sheer artistic force. However, this force is at the same time presented as a violence of creation, which makes it impossible for form to truly emerge. Herein lies one of the basic principles of Lage’s art, namely that art cannot be that nothing or something behind the realm of words or signs. Without form, art would lose its ability to express anything at all. Form is a necessity if art is to avoid becoming as devoid of expression as the reality is that we cannot reach behind the appearance of things. On the other hand, art cannot raise itself above its own material in joyous celebration of the beauty of form. This would use the material in the manner of an instrument and thus would suppress the otherness it attempts to rescue. When art becomes mere form, any traces of otherness will have dissolved. Then art would be a question of technique, in no way different from the instrumental rationality of society. Therefore art works in a particular space between form and non-form. As Hjernøe says of the works of Lage, it is in the center of the event, in the in-between where things neither are nor are not, "And everything takes place just before it changes character. As the blood just before it coagulates, as the milk just before it separates, as fried egg just before it turns white […]." 5 The precise emphasis on the in-between of Lage’s art points in particular to the work of art as both outside of and in time. The work of art is a singular point in time, but at the same time it is continually in process. In the borderland between form and non-form, between creation and destruction, it shimmers like a fata morgana . The work is done but at the same time undone. It is only there as a cry in response to the inability to come into being. Akin to the etching is the drawing, but while both, of course, use the stroke or line as their main instrument, the paper does not resist the line in the same sense as the metal-plate of the etching. As a result in Lage’s drawings the stroke frolics in a space with almost no tension at all. There is nothing there to keep the pencil stroke at bay, but at the same time this means that there is nothing there to keep it together. One of the more expressive examples of this is found in an untitled drawing from Tegninger og Text ( Drawings and Text ) from 1999. The drawing consists of one unbroken pencil stroke. It is as if the stroke is confused—it darts around on the paper making doodles on the way or gathers itself in more straight lines in the center of the paper. It is in this manner that the semblance of a body is established. A couple of small circles serve as eyes and are the reason that the rest can be read as both face and body instead of pure abstraction. In fact the unbroken stroke serves as both abstraction and figuration as on the one hand it is the stroke that seemingly outlines the shape of a figure, while on the other hand the unbroken stroke dissolves any truly recognizable figuration by continuously, without end or aim, overflowing the boundaries of the figure. Seen again here is a doubleness to the stroke and the act of creation. In the etching it was all about the tension between the resistance of the material which created the doubleness. Here it is the opposite. It is the lack of tension. The stroke is free to do anything, but has no aim: without some kind of resistance, there is nothing to hold figuration together. It threatens to dissolve into nothingness. Conversely, the drawing can also be seen as a process of becoming. Like a form of automatic writing, the pencil darts around until it finds a point of densification. But even in such an interpretation of the drawing, the figuration appears artificial—it points to itself as the result of the artistic act of creation. The stroke is primarily stroke and only secondarily figuration. With its wild movement it calls attention to itself as stroke. Thus the figuration never becomes something in its own right. It points to the basic principle of creation: Someone has drawn me, I am the result of artistic endeavors, and therefore I am not for myself but always overflowing the boundaries that contain me. It is the stroke that in the very same movement creates figuration and dissolves it. Leif Lage, Untitled , 1999 (drawing) THE LIGHTNESS OF COLOR, THE DENSITY OF PAPER Often the watercolor is used as a precursor for larger paintings, because it has an immediacy in which one can quickly paint the main lines of a composition. However, Lage’s watercolors are not temporary points in a process leading to another final painting. They are not sketches, later to be filled with details in another material. For him watercolor is an end in itself. This also implies that he doesn’t try to work against the paper’s absorption of the water color and its tendency to absorb detail. On the contrary, he examines the possibilities inherent in this blurring of the line and absorption of color. As in the previous examples, there are of course recognizable shapes in Lage’s water colors. But these shapes are rarely separable from color, line or even paper. In other words: the figurative and the abstract more or less become one. One of the reasons for this is that Lage often works on wetted paper which means that the paper hungrily absorbs color into its fabric instead of it being on top of the paper. The paper becomes line because it is the absorption of the color which, together with the brush stroke itself, separates the colors from each other. The line is also color and the color is also line, because there is no separation between the different colors other than the colors themselves. At times this results in almost complete abstraction. In such cases Lage add lines with a pencil as if he wants to hold some sort of figuration together. At other times it is the other way around: the strokes of the pencil are a being dissolved by the water color blurring out the figuration. Untitled 1 from 1999 displays various tones of green. The contour of the colors appears unusually rough. Most of all it is reminiscent of a shoreline which has found its form through the work of thousands of years between water and land. Pockets of resistance surface as islands not yet drowned in color—as paper or color not yet consumed by the dominant color. The shape of the colors does not seem created by the hand of the artist, but rather by the inner workings of the watercolor: color against color over time has resulted in this very image, as if it is all a part of a natural process of change and decay. Despite the fact that there are no strong differences in color there seems to be a struggle taking place in the watercolor. For example, inexplicable holes in the dark color, which cover most of the right side of the watercolor, appear as if the underlying color is eating away the dark color, or that the dark color is in the process of covering up the underlying color. The small pockets of resistance demonstrate a process and development that, almost as a happy accident, evokes a couple of small eyes and a large mouth. Behind the colors a few slanted lines can be discerned, but the hand of the artist has long ago disappeared behind the life of the colors. Thus the watercolor seems to be held at precisely the point in time where figuration randomly appears. The small eyes and wide mouth seemingly express the realization of the figuration’s temporality. It is just a moment in time, soon to be consumed again in the life of the colors. The nature, the background it stems from and is part of, moves on undeterred, continuing its everlasting process of creation and decay. In this sense, the watercolor provides an experience of how neither artist nor man is able to transcend the materiality they consist of. The colors of man, the materials man consists of are “becoming” and “progress” but also “decay” and “disappearance”. The artist’s pencil strokes have been eaten up long ago, and the figuration is living on borrowed time. Human or artistic activity is about creating form, transcending mere matter by shaping and applying meaning to it. But Untitled 1 shows the doubleness of such creation: the transience and fragility of human life. Should the figuration come into being, should it rise and transcend the material, which binds it to its temporal existence, it would become nothing because its very existence is conditioned by the life and work of the colors. In the same sense man cannot escape his own temporality. He too, for better or worse, must accept a life in the volatility of sensation. Leif Lage, Untitled 1 , 1999 (watercolor) In most of Lage’s watercolors there seem to be a stronger artistic control than in Untitled 1 . Most often both the arrangement of colors and the technique in which they are painted express the hand of the artist. An example of this is Untitled 2 from 1999. While figuration in Untitled 1 seemed to appear as a happy accident, the figuration is much more “created” in Untitled 2 . Here the most important parts of the figuration, the eyes, the mouth and part of the skull, are colored black and painted on top of the background’s play of colors. The background primarily consists of blue and yellow tones. Only parts of the paper are covered in color, however, which yet again stresses the act of painting: There is a surface which is being filled by color by an artist. The blue tones are concentrated in the figuration, while the yellow tones surround it. All this means that the figuration stands out more clearly in this watercolor. This is also underlined by the fact that the blue and dark tones cover part of the yellow tones as spots here and there. Thus it is not a background which is in the process of consuming figuration, but rather the emerging figuration which blots out the background. Such an understanding is even suggested by how the mouth and eyes are placed in the larger blue color field. The eyes and mouth are in the center of the watercolor, while the blue color field is placed from center out towards the left side. This gives the impression of a face turned slightly to the right and slightly upwards, which again makes the mouth appear to emerge from the paper. It also helps that the mouth cuts the center axis of the watercolor. In other words, the arrangement of the blue and black colors create some depth and perspective which gives the illusion of a figuration, seen partially in profile, emerging from the background. Seen in profile, the eyes and mouth seem extroverted—they almost seem as if they are put on top of the face. But at the same time they are painted as black holes, sucking in the gaze of the onlooker. The watercolor is even more challenging if one follows what may be the faint outline of the skull, which, on the right side of the watercolor, no longer works together with the blue color, but rather alone postulates the outline of the skull. If not the blue color field, but this line, is the outline of the skull, then all of a sudden the face is not in profile but “en face”—staring directly towards the onlooker. Outline and color seemingly work against each other and establish two different expressions. Without the slightly upward tilted expression of the profile, the eyes and mouth do not seem to emerge from the paper. On the contrary, seen “en face,” the eyes and mouth are really gaping pits of darkness. In this sense Untitled 2 is at the same time surface and depth of perspective. The line gives form but at the same time it dissolves the form created by the colors, and vice versa. Leif Lage, Untitled 2 , 1999 (watercolor) As the last example of Lage’s artistic method, I have chosen another untitled work (as indeed nearly all of Lage’s artworks are)—this time from 2000. This is perhaps one of the most figurative watercolors Lage has created, though that doesn’t tell us too much. The painting depicts a human face in blue and green tones on a yellow toned background. The colors create a clear demarcation between the figure and the background, which compensate for the watercolor’s lack of outline. Beneath the face darker tones imply the beginning of the torso, and nuances of color even hint at something which could be a collar. The hair is in even darker tones and its structure is emphasized using pencil strokes on top of the water color. One eye is marked by a brown spot with a darker spot in the middle, while the other eye is added by pencil. The mouth is a round, red dot. In Untitled from 2000 the work between abstraction and figuration is much less pronounced than in the previous examples cited here. Nonetheless the watercolor has a delicacy to it which almost makes the figuration disappear, even as it appears. This has something to do with the fact that all the individual brush strokes have dissolved. The only outlines are those created by the clash of colors. Even the red mouth seems to be more paint than mouth—unable to be formed truly as anything other than a speck of color with some small semblance to a mouth. In contrast to the other watercolors, there is no movement, no progress or decay, just a vibrating standstill. The figure is not emerging or disappearing but embedded in and as surface, and as such it makes the figure seem stuck in its condition rather than freed by the act of giving form: mouth open as a wound. Pencil strokes add detail and life to the hair as an attempt to help the figure emerge. But all this does is create two levels in the watercolor: The pencil strokes are put on top of the figuration rather than being part of it. Thus they end up highlighting the endless distance between the movement and form-giving of the pencil strokes and the static and stuck figure behind these strokes. Leif Lage, Untitled , 2000 (watercolor) MAN AND THE VIEW OF THE ONLOOKER Lage’s works seem at the same time to be an examination of tensions between form and material in art and a display of an image of man full of the same tensions. This is because the people who are emerging in Lage’s images are not just in his works, They are his works. This means that man is not something emerging from a background but is part of this background and vice versa. The art of Lage inscribes man in its surroundings and background. Man is not the ruler of nature. Man does not rise above matter; there is no truly transcendent position for man to occupy in the art of Lage. Instead man is a part of the very matter, it, at the same time, tries to distance itself from in order to distinguish itself from its surroundings. Man emerges in an attempt not to be line, stroke, color. In an attempt to free itself of matter. Should it succeed in this, however, it would turn into nothing. On the other hand, if man fully accepted itself as mere matter it would disappear in it—in instincts, urges and lack of reflection. The appearance of man is thus subject to a state of being in-between. Only in the tension between material and its negation can the outlines of man be traced. However this also means that in the art of Lage man is never something in itself but always in process—on the way to its freedom and its loss. However, Lage’s art is not just about showing the tensions inherent in man but also about showing such tension on the verge of breaking point. In the moment before everything is done, or when nothing yet has been done, the delicate tension between form and material has been stretched to its utmost in such a way that man’s character of process emerges and is contained on the paper or canvas. Therefore, Lage’s art contain traces of human life. Not only is it an autonomous unity of tensions where man is stretched out between its singularity and the surroundings it is a part of. It is also this pulsation between figuration and material which brings about the traces of human endeavor and activity. Even when man almost seems to have disappeared into the material, strokes and lines are still there as a reminder of human activity and potential creative power—as a reminder that hope is still possible and that man is still there. The view of the onlooker seeks out forms and meaning. It seeks outlines and edges. But first and foremost it is the eyes in Lage’s works of art that allow the onlooker to decode the figuration at play. This creates a distinctive relationship between the onlooker and the artwork. The onlooker tries to wrest the enigma from the artwork, tries to reduce it to solid, meaningful form. But the very same moment that hints at such a possibility sees the view of the onlooker confronted with a gaze of its own. The eyes of the figure in the work of art are most often dark pits, as if they were an illustration of the violence committed against the eyes of the onlookers and their search for meaning. Or as if they were a dark reflection of the onlooker’s failed attempts to delineate the traces of life in the artwork to a solid meaningful form. Therefore, the gaze of the figuration speaks not only of its own powerlessness but also of the powerlessness of the onlooker. When the view or sight has trouble finding solid meaningful forms, it has something to do with the fact that the precondition for sight, light, no longer stems from something transcendent. In Lage’s art there is nothing outside the works of art, nothing outside of human life, and as such nothing to shed light on the works of art or human life and reveal solid meaningful forms. All light comes from within. In a western context, light as a medium for sight is central to the understanding of meaning. People speak of the clarity of thought, while knowledge is tied together with enlightenment, and so forth. But the light no longer originates from a divine point of view. It originates from man, who has created himself in the image of God. The problem with this is that light always covers up its own base. Light illuminates something but at the same time it hides itself. 6 While it was previously God who was unknowable, now it is man. It is also problematic that sight and the medium of sight stem from the same place. Following this thought one can posit two final problems. Firstly, the immediacy and presence established by light by making forms and objects accessible to sight is fake. Light is not some independent entity which present things in a neutral manner for the onlooker. It is inextricably tied together with the gaze’s desire after meaning. In other words: Light perverts the appearance of things because it doesn’t originate from some objective entity which allows them to appear as they are. Instead light is based upon and originates from the subject and its conquering gaze, seeking out meaning and form constantly. Secondly, the joining of sight and light makes introspection within human life impossible. Everything can be illuminated by its use value for the subject but only as long as it is separated from the subject, as long as it is an object. But the subject itself cannot be illuminated. Lage’s art tears down such a dividing line between subject and matter, but it does so without reestablishing a divine position from where the light emanates. Therefore, the light in Lage’s art may not illuminate very well. It may not have the certainty presented by modern science or the religions of yesterday. But it does show what such light tries to hide, namely, the subject as it is in its material reality—inscribed in time and death, which are the basic conditions of materiality, but at the same time also full of life in its joy and will to create. For the onlooker the meeting of the gaze in Lage’s works of art is thus also a destruction of the view of the onlooker. The ability to see is challenged in a radical way. Those outlines will not solidify into static form, as if the light was too dim to see. Just as in Lage’s figurations, the view of the onlooker turns to black: turns towards the onlooker in recognition and becoming—or disappearance. NOTES Max Horkheimer and Theodor W. Adorno. Dialectic of Enlightenment . (Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 2002): 4-5. Theodor W. Adorno. Aesthetic Theory . (London & New York, 2002): 176. Carsten Bach-Nielsen. “Mere glæde end gru.” Kristeligt Dagblad . September 24, 2002. Leif Hjernøe. “Den yderliggående inderlighed.” LEIF LAGE—Retrospektiv udstilling 1983 . (Copenhagen: Brøndum, 1983): 18. Ibid. Maurice Blanchot. The Infinite Conversation . (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993): 162-163. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Human Perfection in Byzantine Theology: Attaining the Fullness of Christ by Alexis TorranceJoshua H. LimHuman Perfection in Byzantine Theology: Attaining the Fullness of Christ by Alexis Torrance, Changing Paradigms in Historical and Systematic Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020), ix + 239 pp.As a part of the series Changing Paradigms in Historical and Systematic Theology, Alexis Torrance's Human Perfection in Byzantine Theology examines the role of Christ's human (...) perfection within key figures in the Byzantine tradition against the backdrop of trends in contemporary Orthodox theology. Torrance seeks to uncover a common "Christocentrism" within the Byzantine tradition that challenges the contemporary tendency among contemporary Orthodox theologians to "unmoor" theological anthropology from the doctrine of the humanity of Christ. Indeed, according to Torrance, some of these approaches go so far as to risk the danger of "theological shipwreck" (1). As general representatives of the tendency Torrance has in mind, we can name such figures as John Zizioulas and Vladimir Lossky, whose personalist anthropologies depart from the tradition by "bypassing or deferring Christology" (10) In the case of Zizioulas, for instance, Torrance sees the disintegration of theological anthropology into "a sentimental application or projection of worldly and hazy concepts of personality and 'community' to both the Godhead and the people of God" (10). If, for Torrance, the above thinkers appear to represent a wayward tendency (even if he takes issue with certain of their "starting points," Torrance nevertheless seems to agree with most of their conclusions), it is Fr. John Behr whose theology Torrance likely has in mind as risking "theological shipwreck."As we shall see, the overall intelligibility of Torrance's work appears only in the final chapter, against the backdrop of Behr's "unmistakably Christocentric" (206) anthropology. While Torrance joins Behr in bemoaning the non-Christocentric character of much of modern theological anthropology, nevertheless, he sees Behr's project as positing a Christocentrism that flies in the face of the Byzantine tradition. In light of Behr's Christocentrism (and in a way that is reminiscent of Gaudium et Spes §22), Torrance wishes to [End Page 373] show that, for any genuinely Byzantine doctrine, Christ, in his particular and enduring humanity, must be the starting point of the human ideal: "Human perfection and human destiny are only revealed, known, and bequeathed in the person of Jesus Christ, the God-man" (11). To this end, Torrance proposes a "fresh Christocentric paradigm" (3).Torrance's study provides insight into important texts which both implicitly and explicitly reflect the priorities of the Fathers. Taking the historical and systematic approach of Georges Florovsky's "neo-patristic synthesis" as his cue, Torrance highlights the centrality of Christ's humanity in four key figures. He examines the immovability of the human will in the eschaton in Maximus the Confessor (ch. 2), the particular ("depictable") and enduring humanity of Christ in Theodore the Studite (ch. 3), the attainability of human perfection in Symeon the New Theologian (ch. 4), and the possibility of deification through uncreated grace in Gregory Palamas (ch. 5). In each of these thinkers Torrance discovers a "thoroughly Christocentric gaze" (37), which begins from the concrete and particular human nature of Christ, and thereby provides a contrast with the abstract tendency of certain contemporary Orthodox thinkers. However, as we shall see, on account of the ambiguity surrounding the term "Christocentric," it is not always clear whether or how Christ's humanity and human perfection figure into the themes discussed. More problematically, it is not always clear whether Christ's perfect humanity provides an insight into human perfection or human nature, as such.For the purposes of this review, we will focus on Torrance's chapter on Theodore the Studite. Torrance's treatment of Theodore is distinct from his treatment of other Byzantine figures inasmuch as Theodore's teaching on Christ's depictability is historically situated in an explicitly Christological debate. While the studies on Maximus, Symeon, and Palamas certainly have themes that, in one way or another, advert to Christ's humanity, nevertheless none of particular issues treated can be said to have Christ's humanity as their essential starting point. This is to say that Christ's human perfection... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:“Save The Music”?Toward Culturally Relevant, Joyful, and Sustainable School MusicJulia Eklund KozaIf historical sources are reliable indicators, music educators have never felt confident that music's place in the U.S. public school curriculum is secure. Proponents have been developing exhaustive rationales for the existence of school music from the moment that the subject was introduced into the public schools, attempting to convince an apparently skeptical public of the merits of (...) school music, and trying to pull endangered programs—usually their own—out of the fire. Today, as has been the case in the past, rescue and salvation discourses and initiatives abound. Moving music to a more secure place in the curriculum was cited as a rationale for the development of national music standards in 1994.1 In recent years saving the music has become a favorite project of major corporations, especially as privatization of public schooling has gained momentum. For example, in 1998 one of the National Association for Music Education's (MENC) corporate partners credited the school/partnership that promoted the Disney movie, Mr. Holland's Opus, with saving school music.2 The corporate-sponsored initiative "VH1 Save the Music" claims not only to help flailing school music programs but also, through the donation of musical instruments to schools, to rescue children as well—more than 250,0000 of them since 1997.3 [End Page 23]Because music outside of school seems to be thriving and probably will never be in need of rescue—although specific styles, genres, and practices may be in their twilight—"the music" to which "VH1 Save the Music" refers presumably is school music. As a music educator who perennially is called upon to "save the music," I will take a brief look at the object of salvation, the salvific discourses that surround it, and some of the systems of reasoning that construct it. I propose modifications in these systems of reasoning, which may lead to more culturally relevant, joyful, and sustainable school music.School Music: An Alchemized Constellation of Systems of Reasoning and PracticesTo conceptualize school music as an entity is both problematic and useful. On the one hand, doing so assumes the existence of an exteriority from which it can be clearly differentiated, that is, outside-of-school music, and yet these culturally constructed categories are leaky. The fact that the American Federation of Musicians joined forces with MENC to establish guidelines, which attempt to prevent school performing groups from encroaching on the turf of unionized professional musicians, indicates that the line of distinction between school music and its exteriority sometimes has been blurred.4Furthermore, when VH1 refers to it as "the music," school music seems to be not only clearly defined but also static and monolithic. I argue, however, that it consists of a whole constellation of systems of reasoning as well as the varied practices resulting from these systems. Differences between the various elements in this constellation may be as numerous as commonalities. School music in the U.S. is diverse in the sense that it encompasses a variety of sub-categories or sub-cultures (for example, elementary general music, secondary instrumental music, and so on), each with somewhat distinct systems of reasoning and practices. When suggesting that school music should be saved, we are faced with the complex question of whether all of these sub-categories, their systems of reasoning, and their consequent practices are to be objects of salvation.In addition to having to address the variety within school music, any mapping of relationships between school music and it exteriority should take into account the variety and dynamism of the musical world outside of school. This exteriority consists of a multiplicity of sub-cultures, each with a set of governing practices that may or may not be shared.On the other hand, astonishing within-category similarity exists, which supports the view that school music is an entity. In addition, some commonalities may not only unite all of the sub-categories but also may be shared with non-music school subjects, as well. One such commonality is the inescapable influence of a process of change educational theorist Thomas Popkewitz calls [End Page 24] "alchemy... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Affective Spaces: Architecture and the Living Body by Federico de MatteisJasna SersicAffective Spaces: Architecture and the Living Body BY FEDERICO DE MATTEIS New York, NY: Routledge, 2021What is architectural space? For architects, urban planners, and all involved in the design and transformation of the environment, space is a central subject. However, despite this fact, nobody accurately states what space is all about. As a result, the concept of (...) space remains ambiguous, challenging to transmit, and a point of fundamental misunderstandings, with consequences on how we move, inhabit, and transform the world around us (1).In the attempt to provide order in today’s theory of space in architecture, De Matteis’ Affective Spaces invites the reader to explore the question of space from the subject’s point of view by asking what the encounter with architecture is like, and how do I feel, here, now?, borrowed from Eugene Minkowski (7). De Matteis offers an interconnected yet clear and instructive way to explore further what first-hand, direct experience with architecture can tell us about the effects it produces on us. Through this exciting intellectual journey, De Matteis thus shows how architecture, generally understood as an art of building space, does not regard the built environment alone. As people are also emotionally affected by the (built) world they live in, this book can ultimately be read as a quest to understand the relation between the feelings and moods arising from the bodily, corporeal experience of the built environment and the way they invite us to respond and act within environments we inhabit and modify (130).To accept De Matteis’ invitation to join him on his quest entails two things. The first is to take the position that the root of the emergence of sense and feelings is the subject’s corporeity. We must thus acknowledge the primacy of feeling (130). The second, by extension, is to put aside preconceived notions and conceptual tools for representing space inherited from modernity, as they are grounded in dualistic contraposition between physical reality, which is seen as objective (9). In contrast, experience and feeling are seen as subjective (9). Consequently, [End Page 142] they cannot adequately grasp the non- measurable dimensions of the lived space and thus the experience that the subject makes of it.Instead, De Matteis argues that one cannot describe space as a thing separate from us and that we are always a part of the space we inhabit. For this purpose, the book derives its theoretical model of space from phenomenology, which considers the felt body as a sounding board for the built environment and human experience of the world.The book is arranged into fourteen chapters that show the thematic progression of the argument, and is structured in three parts that explore space, the living body and corporeal dynamics, and the experiential character of some specific families of space. Titles of the chapters provide clear signposts to the reader about where the story is going and are much appreciated in this unique exploration. They also show that the author carefully weaves the conceptual intersections between phenomenology and its model of space with investigations in several fields of knowledge. Drawing across a multitude of disciplines, ranging from geography, anthropology, psychology, philosophy of mind, and aesthetics to neurosciences, and offering many examples from art, literature, film, and everyday life, the book helps the reader visualize the content discussed. This panoramic character and accessible language and format make it an engaging read for experts in the field and to a broader audience interested in topics addressed in the book.Perhaps one of the most compelling arguments the book brings forward is that the corporeal dynamics of space enable understanding of space as a thing that is not separate from us. It is from the coming together of persons and things that atmospheres arise. They are not objective, yet they exist as the natural qualities of things; neither are they subjective, yet they belong to sensing beings. This understanding implies a possible workable definition with no boundary between the subject and object. However, it also clearly points out that the book emerged in response to our modern understanding and critique... (shrink)

For politics to measure up to reason, two requirements have long been acknowledged: first, that the ends of political action be universal, and second, that the pursuit of such universal ends consist in political self-determination, that is, in self-government.Aristotle set the stage for all further political inquiry by distinguishing political association through the universality of its end or good, while identifying the end of politics with political activity itself, an activity in which citizens rule over one another while presiding over (...) all other associations, which fall under political dominion owing to the particularity of their pursuits. Aristotle joined the universality of politics with the activity of self-rule by recognising political activity to be an end in itself that is also a master end for the sake of which all other conduct is to be pursued. As such, politics was itself the highest good, making ethics possible by overcoming the hegemony of instrumental action, whose every end is devoid of intrinsic value, leaving conduct ultimately pointless.Two corollary difficulties, however, undermine Aristotle's enterprise. On the one hand, he is unable to give the universal end of political association a non-arbitrary content. Politics may claim universality by being both an end in itself and a master end, but this is just a recipe for ‘might makes right’, where any prevailing rule would be identical with the highest good. Appeal to a distinctly human function or to forms of rule that pursue the common good rather than the particular interests of some ruler can provide no remedy. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Against the Ethicists (Adversus Mathematicos XI) by Sextus EmpiricusJohn Christian LaursenSextus Empiricus. Against the Ethicists (Adversus Mathematicos XI). Translation, Commentary, and Introduction by Richard Bett. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997. Pp. xxxiv + 302. NP.Sesto Empirico. Contro gli etici. Introduction, Editing, Translation, and Commentary by Emidio Spinelli. Naples: Bibliopolis, 1995. Pp. 450. NP.Joining the rising tide of scholarly literature that says that skeptics can indeed live their skepticism, (...) and that it is not necessarily a bad life, are these two fine translations of Book XI of Sextus Empiricus’s Against the Mathematicians (known as MXI), the most important for ethics and politics. Considering that the length of Sextus’s text is only 39 pages (in the English version), the length of these two volumes alone indicates that a great deal of philosophical and philological scholarship will be found in them. Both authors do an excellent job of tracking down Sextus’s sources and his targets.Spinelli accepts the traditional position (Janacek’s) that MXI was written after Sextus’s Outlines of Pyrrhonism, although he is aware of the minority position that it was the other way around. Bett makes a convincing case for the minority position, including a substantial appendix comparing passages from the two works which suggest that Outlines polishes MXI. This has the merit of explaining Sextus’s apparent “negative dogmatism” in MXI as part of early skepticism and a phase on the way to the more refined and more thoroughly undogmatic skepticism of the Outlines. However, Bett himself mentions counterevidence to his thesis, so it cannot be considered decisively established. Spinelli explains the apparent dogmatism on the assumption that Outlines came first: the usual skeptical reservations set forth in that book should be understood as implied (165–66, 169). Other explanations are that apparent affirmations are ad hominem polemic “inside” Stoic theory (240ff.) or merely relative and with no ontological status (291).Bett divides the text into part A (1–167) and part B (168–end), arguing for compilation of the two parts of the book from different sources with different purposes. Spinelli writes that the often-denigrated 168–end “has a precise function in the internal compositional strategy” of the book (339).English speakers have had to rely too long on the Loeb translation by” B. Bury. Bett questions many of his renderings. For example, Bury translated kakon and kakia as “evil,” with connotations of intentionality, and at MXI 121 even supplied a footnote to Genesis! Bett prefers the less-loaded “bad” and “vice.” Spinelli usually translates kakon with “mali” but uses the loaded “malvagità” for kakia at MXI 121, where Bett would have suggested “vizio.” Bury translated alogon and alogois with “irrational” which Bett corrects to “non-rational” at MXI 143, 148, and 161 to capture the point that what is in question is neither rational nor irrational, but rather “sensory happenings” which have [End Page 313] nothing to do with reasoning (161). Spinelli renders alogon as “irrazionale” at MXI 143 and alogois as “sottrati al ragionamento” at MXI 148 and 161.Spinelli’s is a much more useful and substantial volume than the previous Italian translation. The only thing that might keep Bett’s volume from replacing the Loeb edition is that it does not supply the Greek text on facing pages. Spinelli does.The exhaustive and careful analyses of Spinelli and Bett allow them to disagree in important ways with parts of the substantial recent work on ancient skepticism by Hankinson, McPherran, Annas, Nussbaum, Striker, and Decleva Caizzi (cited as Caizzi by Bett), not to mention the older work of Janacek and the debates from the early 1980s (now dated) among Frede, Burnyeat, and Barnes. Although they do not find Sextus’s work to be flawless by any means, it is clear that we are long past the point at which his work could be dismissed as silly or merely derivative.On the test case of the treatment of Sextus’s example of the tyrant (MXI 166), both Spinelli and Bett point in the right direction. Spinelli sees that “the Pyrrhonist can live easily” (330) and that MXI 165–67 provides “a new key to understanding the ‘moral skepticism... (shrink)

Beginning in the 20th century, scientific research came to be dominated by a growing class of credentialed, professional scientists who overwhelmingly displaced the learned amateurs of an earlier time. By the end of the century, however, the exclusive realm of professional scientists conducting research was joined, to a degree, by “citizen scientists.” The term originally encompassed non-professionals assisting professional scientists by contributing observations and measurements to ongoing research enterprises. These collaborations were especially common in the environmental sciences, where citizen scientists (...) participated in counting wildlife and measuring environmental conditions. Later, patient groups began to play a more active role in supporting clinical trials and collecting health records from affected individuals. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction:Women in Public Life in Republican RomeHarriet I. Flower and Josiah OsgoodThe five articles in this special issue of AJP seek to advance our understanding of republican Rome by paying close attention to women in relation to space. Using a range of sources and approaches, contributors find women throughout the city of Rome—on the streets, in the Forum, in houses (some of which were owned by women), and at (...) temples and sacred structures such as the Regia, a building the Romans believed had once been the house of their kings. Contributors consider how women participated in political and legal discussions, accrued and controlled property, and fulfilled ritual obligations deemed vital to the community's well-being, often side by side with men. Access to different kinds of spaces afforded women social status, recognition, and influence within society at large.A central concern of the authors is to show that public life, broadly defined, involved women as well as men. By public life, we mean, in part, activities that occurred in the open, where large numbers might gather, watch, listen, and respond. In his contribution to the issue, Lewis Webb shows how women of very different statuses held religious roles—some as priestesses—roles that required them to move through the city and carry out sacrifices and other rites in a highly visible manner. In her article studying non-elite women's part in politics in the late Republic, Celia E. Schultz looks at various women who traveled in the entourages of male politicians and the attention they drew to themselves. Josiah Osgood, in his discussion of high-ranking women in the same period, shows how women introduced their concerns into politics, through conversations [End Page 1] held in domestic settings but also by protesting publicly and testifying as key witnesses at criminal trials.Public life encompassed activities that were of concern to the community, such as religious rituals performed on behalf of that same community. As Meghan DiLuzio points out in her article on women in the Regia, "visibility is not the only way of thinking about what made a ritual public." The Romans defined a ritual as public (publicus) if it was "paid for by the community and performed on behalf of the people." In her contribution, Harriet I. Flower points out that political discussions and negotiations could happen in houses (Roman politicians did not have separate offices) and then considers examples of such conversations that are attested in houses owned or controlled by women. In Livy's narrative of the so-called Bacchanalian conspiracy of 186 b.c.e. (39.8–19), Flower investigates how a series of pivotal conversations each took place in women's houses. Narrative historians of Rome often focused on warfare, other activities of magistrates, and formal political debate at contiones and in the Senate, spheres in which women's voluntary participation was typically precluded, and this view of what mattered often gets repeated today, at times in general treatments. Closer attention to women, and to the spaces in which they were present and active, opens up a fuller picture of republican culture. In this culture, religion was not a scholarly sub-field but a central part of social and political experience, and political debate and decision-making comprised far more than individual orators standing on the Rostra or in the Curia.This special issue of AJP grew out of a particular interest in space as a focus for historical analysis. We wanted to ask basic questions about where women spent their time, what discussions and decision-making fora they could be a part of, and how they moved through the city. Meanwhile, no answer to these questions can omit religious activities, which feature heavily in most of the following articles. A third, fundamental topic which joins these papers together is women's influence. Space, religion, and influence are, therefore, interlocking themes of central importance in the lives of women in the Roman Republic, and we briefly introduce each of these three principal areas here, since they inform the papers collected here. In addition, these three themes highlight many connections between the contributions in this volume and link these... (shrink)

From the viewpoint of its Stalinist-era creators, the IKKN/INS could at best be described as a mixed success. Despite heroic efforts, it failed to train the cadres that might have permeated Polish scholarship with Marxism-Leninism. If it was the major channel for transmitting Soviet experience to Polish academia, then Poland's universities would not learn to be Soviet—the Polish historian Jerzy Halbersztadt has made the point that the institute was the only direct conduit of Soviet experience into Polish academic life. It (...) even had a major role in educating some of Poland's most famous critical thinkers, although they, unlike their master Adam Schaff, seem less fond of reminiscing about the institute. Leszek Koŀakowski writes that he does not regard his role in the ideological struggles of the early 1950s as a “source of pride”.90The legacy of the IKKN/INS has also been a mixed one. It was not only a “foundry of revisionists”. For every future critical thinker of world repute, it graduated several cadres who served the PZPR loyally over decades. Adam Schaff recognises this dual legacy. Looking back on a long and active life, he has called the institute a “pearl in my crown”.91 Its members filled top party and government posts throughout the history of People's Poland. Andrzej Werblan served as Central Committee secretary and a member of the Politburo, Sylwester Zawadzki became minister of justice, Stanisŀaw Wroński was minister of culture, Mieczysŀaw Jagielski was the Politburo member who negotiated the Gdańsk accords, Stanisŀaw Kania succeeded Edward Gierek, and Mieczysŀaw Rakowski acted as General Jaruzelski's Party First Secretary.92Undoubtedly much of the institute's strange course is to be attributed to the designs of Adam Schaff. Despite his Moscow training, Schaff retained an attachment to the Polish academic milieu which had formed him. He may have believed in Stalinist doctrine, but he also believed that this doctrine would show its superiority in competition with other views—even if the competition was far from a fair one. Of course, Schaff tried to retain ultimate control, and to play, as he now calls himself, the “grey eminence”. Nevertheless, his was a very unstalinist way of propagating Stalinism, and he must be given credit for helping to keep a spirit of intellectual inquiry alive in Poland during the dark years of the early 1950s.Yet Schaff tends to exaggerate his personal role in educating philosophers, dissidents and critical thinkers. This tendency is itself a legacy of the Stalinist period and its concentration of power. Stalinists view the present as their personal creation and therefore reject all criticisms of the past. At the final meeting of the Crooked Circle Club in 1962, Schaff encountered unwonted criticism from, among others, Andrzej Walicki. Schaff shot back at him: “You are ours, you are our creation, a creation of socialism ... we educated you, and we didn't do such a bad job.” But far from being a “creation” of Schaff's, the non-party member Walicki had been denied admission to graduate studies in philosophy. He felt relieved when those in attendance, who knew him better than Schaff did, burst out laughing.93The point is that the Polish intellectual world maintained its integrity outside the IKKN/INS, and in the end it was the institute which merged into the Polish intelligentsia, rather than the opposite. After 1957 the non-Marxist sociologists and philosophers made their way back to academia, and were joined by many former INS staff members. The basic unity of Polish social science training, and of the Polish intelligentsia, was restored.94Of course in a larger sense the fate of the IKKN/INS had little to do with the designs of its master. Schaff admits as much, proclaiming that “I did this because I did not know what I was doing!” If he had been asked to start such a project five years later, the answer would have been: “No!”95 The fatal flaw of the Institute for Training Scientific Cadres was cadres: Poland did not have them. By 1956, Schaff and the party leadership, and perhaps Soviet advisers as well, had learned that one could not create an elite party scientific institution almost out of nothing. It would either be party or scientific, because apparatchiki could not become scientists, scientists would not become apparatchiki, and students could not produce teachers. In the Stalinist period, Polish intellectual life had stood in the shadow of the party; yet during the Thaw the relationship was reversed—increasingly the tiny party training institute was engulfed by the shadow of the resurgent Polish universities. Talented young people, even those in the party, made their way into the traditional higher educational establishment.The IKKN/INS did not, therefore, fail because of its own failings, nor succeed because of its own successes. It was a failed part of a failed whole. To succeed, “mild” revolution would have required decades, and Poland's Stalinists had only a few years. To make matters worse—or better, depending on viewpoint—they did not use these years in a conventional Stalinist manner. Under Schaff's guidance and at somewhat erratic Soviet bidding, the institute became an awkward series of half-measures, reminiscent of much of Polish Stalinism. When Poland's communists fell back and regrouped in 1956, the IKKN/INS occupied a lonely position they preferred to abandon. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Rhetoric of RHETORIC: The Quest for Effective CommunicationCarolyn R. MillerThe Rhetoric of RHETORIC: The Quest for Effective Communication. Wayne C. BoothMalden, Mass: Blackwell, 2004. Pp. xvi + 206. $20.95, paperback.By using the traditional word rhetoric I want to suggest a whole philosophy of how men succeed or fail in discovering together, in discourse, new levels of truth (or at least agreement) that neither side suspected before.—Wayne C. (...) Booth, 1974Listening-Rhetoric is what I most long to celebrate and practice—the kind that is sadly rare.... Here both sides join in a trusting dispute, determined to listen to the opponent's arguments, while persuading the opponent to listen in exchange.... Both sides are pursuing not just victory but a new reality, a new agreement about what is real.—Wayne C. Booth, 2004By the evidence of these two quotations, the late Wayne Booth sustained a passionate interest in a constructivist, cooperative rhetoric for at least thirty years. His 1974 Modern Dogma and the Rhetoric of Assent first sounds many of the themes that are rearticulated in his 2004 The Rhetoric of RHETORIC, a volume in the Blackwell Manifestos series. Both books were motivated by evident failures of public discourse, the earlier one by those emanating from the Vietnam War, including student protests at the University of Chicago, and the recent one by multiple rhetorical sins of the Bush administration and the national media, especially those concerning the war in Iraq. Indeed, Booth confesses here that his distress dates at least to 1963, when he lamented that "the debate about the [Kennedy] assassination [may be] a greater national disgrace than the assassination itself" (109).What animates Booth in both books is the conviction not that only we can do better in conducting our discursive relationships as a nation, as institutions, as families, but that we must do so. We must do so because our ability to live and progress together depends on our talking rather than resorting to force and on our talking in a way that engenders trust and enables continued debate, rather than provoking mistrust and disrespect. The two enemies he has always in sight are violence and deception. These are two forms of rhetorical failure, but the two become entangled when "violence and the threat of violence corrupt rhetoric," particularly during times of war (118), and when corrupt rhetoric itself becomes a kind of violence (48). [End Page 261]As a "manifesto" addressed to a non-specialist audience, The Rhetoric of RHETORIC is relatively brief, engagingly written, and passionately argued. It includes chapters on definitions of rhetoric (good and bad), the history of rhetorical studies, the difficulties of judging rhetoric (i.e., the disjunction between instrumental and ethical effectiveness), the dispersal of rhetoric to multiple disciplines and forums, the condition of rhetorical education today, the dangers of bad rhetoric in politics and in the media, and a demonstration of how our many intractable debates might be improved with "listening-rhetoric," using as a case example the "warfare" between science and religion. Throughout, Booth dramatizes his ideal of listening-rhetoric by engaging in frequent proleptic questioning and refutation as well as reflexive commentary.Anyone who heard Booth talk at a conference within the past decade or more has first-hand knowledge of his predilection for neologism, and he indulged himself in this book (though he resisted in 1974; see Modern Dogma, 11n5). His term for bad rhetoric, the rhetoric that exacerbates misunderstanding or seeks victory through deception, is "rhetrickery"; his term for the best rhetoric, a kind of critical consciousness that seeks to find common ground and to remove misunderstanding, is "rhetorology." We are also introduced to LR (listening-rhetoric), WR (win-rhetoric), BR (bargain-rhetoric), Rhet-Ed (rhetorical education), P-Rhet (political rhetoric), and MR (media rhetoric).Rhetorology, or listening-rhetoric, is Booth's solution to our rhetorical woes, a solution that admittedly has both philosophical and practical limitations. Rhetorology opposes rhetrickery and some versions of win-rhetoric. He is at some pains to explain and sequester these damaging capabilities so that the unsavory aspects of rhetoric's reputation do not obscure its positive potential. Readers familiar with recent rhetorical theorizing... (shrink)

A scholarly and imaginative contribution to ethics and aesthetics. The author sees in certain types of abstract art an affectation of austerity which he interprets as compensation in the aesthetic realm for moral lassitude, and a symptom of the decadence which characterizes our age. Decadence is natural and inevitable; in fact, everything is decadence, but in some ages, notably ours, decadence becomes monstrous. The author distinguishes two types of austerity: the limited and rational, and the infinite. Rational austerity is the (...) austerity of the scientist, who denies himself everything but abstract relationships. Through this austerity, the aesthetic and moral realms are joined, in a Platonic fashion; but when this sort of austerity is applied to ethics, it results in a stylized and unproductive ethics. It is necessary to turn to infinite austerity, in which it is seen that the moral "cure" is itself a further "malady," but a malady which is a continuous cure. Even infinite austerity, however, is not enough; in the end, "C'est l'amour qui importe, non l'austérité."--D. S. (shrink)