I shall respond to Michael Hand’s rejoinder in respect of the two ‘difficulties’ he has identified with my arguments.

I shall respond to Michael Hand’s rejoinder in respect of the two ‘difficulties’ he has identified with my arguments.

There is a move to centralise scattered documents; to archive all hardcopies of published journals in one place. PESA is moving to the institutionalisation of its history. We may ask, if philosophy of education in Australasia began at Bassar College, University of New South Wales on 20 May 1970, or if it emerged from the post-war focus on teacher education, teaching on the philosophy of education. Further to the injunction that we query who may be foregrounded; who assigned to possible (...) appendices of any PESA stories? By definition the non-members, the rejected scripts, the programme notations of those who failed to present at conferences will be the omissions. And the very fact that some have been rejected, for perhaps inadequate philosophising, for moving beyond the discourse of the liberal understanding of education means that there will always be gaps, omissions, a select record. In what ways may the archive order us? How do we ensure that archival history of PESA is not the work only of Great Wo/men. We will find that after ordering and collating disorderly archives, that what is collated will be incomplete. Our question may be as was Lorimer and Philo’s, ‘should we be “allowing more disorder into the archive”’? (shrink)

Carolyn M Stone; Autonomy, Emotions and Desires: some problems concerning R. F. Dearden's account of autonomy, Journal of Philosophy of Education, Volume 24, Is.

In Fyodor Dostoevsky’s influential novel Notes from underground, we find one of the most memorable characters in nineteenth century literature. The Underground Man, around whom everything else in this book revolves, is in some respects utterly repugnant: he is self-centred, obsessive and cruel. Yet he is also highly intelligent, honest and reflective, and he has suffered significantly at the hands of others. Reading Notes from underground can be a harrowing experience but also an educative one, for in an encounter with (...) what at first seems unfamiliar and disorienting we can awaken the ‘stranger within’. Dostoevsky’s work, if we are ready for it, can shake us from our slumbers and allow us to see that what appears to be strange may in fact be deeply familiar to us. (shrink)

R. S. Peters never explicitly talks about wisdom as being an aim of education. He does, however, in numerous places, emphasize that education is of the whole person and that, whatever else it might be about, it involves the development of knowledge and understanding. Being educated, he claims, is incompatible with being narrowly specialized. Moreover, he argues, education enables a person to have a different perspective on things, ‘to travel with a different view’ [Peters, R. S. (1967). What is an (...) educational process? In R. S. Peters (Ed.), The concept of education (pp. 1–23). Routledge and Kegan Paul]. In asserting this about education, Peters has more in common with another great English educator, John Henry, Cardinal Newman, than one might expect, given they are separated by about a century and start from different philosophical perspectives, namely Kant to a significant degree in the former and Aristotle in the latter. Both nevertheless acknowledge the importance of reason and its development in any education worthy of the name. I will argue that in describing the ‘educated person’ Peters is not far from the view of Newman, who saw education as being about the ‘enlargement of mind’. Although Newman hesitates to call ‘enlargement of mind’ wisdom, and Peters does not use either term, there are good grounds for proposing that in distinguishing between education and training, and in asserting education is moral education because it is concerned to improve persons, Peters acknowledges the higher purposes of education and hence, we can add, its connection with wisdom. Significantly, what such a reading of Peters emphasizes is his insistence on the intrinsic value of education, a view seemingly lost in modern market-driven conceptions of education. (shrink)

. Is R.S. Peters' way of mentioning women in his texts detrimental to philosophy of education? Some considerations and questions. Ethics and Education: Vol. 7, Creating spaces, pp. 291-302. doi: 10.1080/17449642.2013.767002.

Journal of Philosophy of Education, Volume 56, Issue 2, Page 305-317, April 2022.

This paper argues that an educated being logically does not have to be a human. Philosophers analyzing the concept of education have reached a consensual notion of the matter; but in applying that idea, they have barely discussed whether or not human beings are the only entities that may be educated. Using their notion as the core of a heuristic conception of education, this paper attempts to show that in some contexts it might make sense to predicate education of certain (...) non-human entities. In addition, the paper examines the place of beliefs, reflective intelligence, practical thinking, and feelings in education. It concludes by discussing its implications for educational theory and practice and for the connections between the educated being and personhood and the right to education. (shrink)

Feminism is not exclusive: anyone can be a feminist. Anyone, apparently can be a woman, but not all women are feminists. Men can be feminists. The object of feminism is the welfare of women and gir...

In this symposium, we highlight the importance of critical engagement with philosophical traditions in philosophy of education. On one hand, it is important to critique the exclusionary nature of canons of knowledge that have shaped both philosophy and education; on the other, we believe it is important to acknowledge that our thinking, as well as the thinking of philosophers of education before us, is undeniably and indelibly marked by these traditions. Framed by Jacques Derrida’s reflections on the “figure of the (...) philosopher” and Michael Naas’s conception of “taking on the tradition,” David Burns invites us to revisit the Stoic conception of character as a counterpoint to current discourses of character education in Canadian schools; David Waddington examines how Thomas Jefferson’s writings influenced John Dewey’s conception of democracy and democratic education; and Ann Chinnery proposes acknowledgement of intellectual indebtedness as an essential scholarly disposition, looking specifically at the “difficult inheritance” of Emmanuel Levinas’s debt to Martin Heidegger. (shrink)

Is it possible for one and the same person to be a feminist and a logician, or does this entail a psychic rift of such proportions that one is plunged into an endless cycle of self-contradiction? Andrea Nye's book, Words of Power (1990), is an eloquent affirmation of the psychic rift position. Although eloquent, I believe it is mistaken in certain serious ways, which I shall address in this paper.Nye advances this position in her concluding essay to Words of Power (...) (Ibid.). In brief, her position is that the logical enterprise is inherently self-contradictory for feminist thinkers. Feminists who attempt to use logic to demonstrate its shortcomings are doomed to failure; arguing against logical claims is self-defeating, for the critic will be sucked into the maelstrom of logical tradition. Hydra-headed, the logical monster will thrive rather than perish under the sharpened edge of argument; hence the critic succeeds only in strengthening the very endeavour whose shortcomings she attempts to expose. This is guaranteed to happen, according to Nye, because in entering the debate, one is thereby committed to the terms of the debate. The critic herself will be devoured in the process, for logic was constructed to eliminate the voices and concerns of women. ‘The feminist logician speaks from a script in which the master always wins' (Ibid., p. 180).If feminists cannot use logic itself to attack the arrogant and unsupportable assumptions of logic, what are our alternatives? Nye sketches two alternatives - one is to simply turn our backs on logic, ignoring it in all of its masculine arrogance, and talk among ourselves in our own women's language about our own concerns. Nye does not recommend this alternative, for although it escapes the criticism of arrogance, it does so at the price of impotence. What she does recommend is the second alternative, that as feminists we direct our energy towards reading other people's work, including that of the logicians, and responding to it in ways ‘that can mortally wound’ (Ibid., p. 184) the authors; women, Nye believes, are particularly adept at reading. ‘It is a skill we have perfected’ (Ibid.) in the course of our oppression.In what follows, I shall discuss Nye's proscription of logic as well as her perceived alternatives of a woman's language and reading. This will be followed by a discussion more sharply focused on Nye's feminist response to logic, namely, her claim that feminism and logic are incompatible. I will end by offering a sketch of a class in the life of a feminist teaching logic, a sketch which is both a response to Nye (in Nye's sense of the word) and a counter-example to her thesis that logic is necessarily destructive to any genuine feminist enterprise. (shrink)