Preference for partners with low fluctuating asymmetry (FA) may produce “good gene” benefits. However, Gangestad & Simpson's analysis does not exclude immediate benefits of fertility. Low FA is related to fertility in men and women. Short-term changes in FA are correlated with fertility in women. It is not known whether temporal fluctuations in the FA of men are related to short-term fertility status.

Previous research has suggested that offspring sex ratio may be influenced by the actions of prenatal sex steroids, principally androgens. The relative length of the second (index finger) to the fourth digit (ring finger) has been reported to be a proxy to prenatal testosterone levels. This trait is sexually dimorphic, such that males display a significantly lower 2D:4D ratio (indicating higher testosterone exposure), and this dimorphism appears robust across different populations. We suggest that digit ratio (2D:4D) may form a useful (...) marker to help explain variation in sex ratio and sociosexuality. (shrink)

While there are numerous differences between the approaches taken by Maurice Merleau-Ponty and James J. Gibson, the basic motivation of the two thinkers, as well as the internal logic of their respective views, is extraordinarily close. Both were guided throughout their lives by an attempt to overcome the dualism of subject and object, and both devoted considerable attention to their "Gestaltist" predecessors. There can be no doubt but that it is largely because of this common cause that the subsequent development (...) of their ideas is so similar. It is not my objective in what follows merely to demonstrate a similarity between two lines of thought. Instead, I will try to show that each approach gains considerably from attention to the other. There are numerous ways to begin such a project, each about as arbitrary as the next. For present purposes, I shall take as of central importance the question of the character of the perceived world, both in relation to the traditionally opposed mental and material "substances", and in relation to its identification and individuation of things vis a vis one another and vis a vis ourselves. This will implicate especially Gibson's "affordances" and Merleau-Ponty's thesis concerning the "materiality of meaning.". (shrink)

Individualist and communitarian. Anarchist and totalitarian. Classicist and romanticist. Progressive and reactionary. Since the eighteenth century, Jean-Jacques Rousseau has been said to be all of these things. Few philosophers have been the subject of as much or as intense debate, yet almost everyone agrees that Rousseau is among the most important and influential thinkers in the history of political philosophy. This new edition of his major political writings, published in the year of the three-hundredth anniversary of his birth, renews attention (...) to the perennial importance of Rousseau’s work. The book brings together superb new translations by renowned Rousseau scholar John T. Scott of three of Rousseau’s works: the _Discourse on the Sciences and Arts,_ the _Discourse on the Origin and Foundations of Inequality Among Men, _and _On the Social Contract. _The two _Discourses_ show Rousseau developing his well-known conception of the natural goodness of man and the problems posed by life in society. With the _Social Contract, _Rousseau became the first major thinker to argue that democracy is the only legitimate form of political organization. Scott’s extensive introduction enhances our understanding of these foundational writings, providing background information, social and historical context, and guidance for interpreting the works. Throughout, translation and editorial notes clarify ideas and terms that might not be immediately familiar to most readers. The three works collected in _The Major Political Writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau_ represent an important contribution to eighteenth-century political theory that has exerted an extensive influence on generations of thinkers, beginning with the leaders of the French Revolution and continuing to the present day. The new translations on offer here will be welcomed by a wide readership of both Rousseau scholars and readers with a general interest in political thought. (shrink)

Individualist and communitarian. Anarchist and totalitarian. Classicist and romanticist. Progressive and reactionary. Since the eighteenth century, Jean-Jacques Rousseau has been said to be all of these things. Few philosophers have been the subject of as much or as intense debate, yet almost everyone agrees that Rousseau is among the most important and influential thinkers in the history of political philosophy. This new edition of his major political writings, published in the year of the three-hundredth anniversary of his birth, renews attention (...) to the perennial importance of Rousseau’s work. The book brings together superb new translations by renowned Rousseau scholar John T. Scott of three of Rousseau’s works: the _Discourse on the Sciences and Arts,_ the _Discourse on the Origin and Foundations of Inequality Among Men, _and _On the Social Contract. _The two _Discourses_ show Rousseau developing his well-known conception of the natural goodness of man and the problems posed by life in society. With the _Social Contract, _Rousseau became the first major thinker to argue that democracy is the only legitimate form of political organization. Scott’s extensive introduction enhances our understanding of these foundational writings, providing background information, social and historical context, and guidance for interpreting the works. Throughout, translation and editorial notes clarify ideas and terms that might not be immediately familiar to most readers. The three works collected in _The Major Political Writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau_ represent an important contribution to eighteenth-century political theory that has exerted an extensive influence on generations of thinkers, beginning with the leaders of the French Revolution and continuing to the present day. The new translations on offer here will be welcomed by a wide readership of both Rousseau scholars and readers with a general interest in political thought. (shrink)

Rousseau's God offers a comprehensive interpretation of Rousseau's theological and religious writings, both in themselves and in relation to his philosophy of the natural goodness of man. John T. Scott argues that there is a complicated relationship between Rousseau's philosophy, on the one hand, and his theological and religious thought. This relationship revolves around two oppositions: first, between the attributes and psychological needs of natural man and social or moral man; second, between the criteria of truth and utility for (...) evaluating theological and religious doctrines. In short, because the justification of nature through the natural goodness of man does not suffice for developed humans, Rousseau offers theological and religious doctrines which are less true than useful, psychologically, morally, or politically. (shrink)

On his famous walk to Vincennes to visit the imprisoned Diderot, Rousseau had what he called an “illumination”—the realization that man was naturally good but becomes corrupted by the influence of society—a fundamental change in Rousseau’s perspective that would animate all of his subsequent works. At that moment, Rousseau “saw” something he had hitherto not seen, and he made it his mission to help his readers share that vision through an array of rhetorical and literary techniques. In Rousseau’s Reader, (...) class='Hi'>John T. Scott looks at the different strategies Rousseau used to engage and persuade the readers of his major philosophical works, including the Social Contract, Discourse on Inequality, and Emile. Considering choice of genre; textual structure; frontispieces and illustrations; shifting authorial and narrative voice; addresses to readers that alternately invite and challenge; apostrophe, metaphor, and other literary devices; and, of course, paradox, Scott explores how the form of Rousseau’s writing relates to the content of his thought and vice versa. Through this skillful interplay of form and content, Rousseau engages in a profoundly transformative dialogue with his readers. While most political philosophers have focused, understandably, on Rousseau’s ideas, Scott shows convincingly that the way he conveyed them is also of vital importance, especially given Rousseau’s enduring interest in education. Giving readers the key to Rousseau’s style, Scott offers fresh and original insights into the relationship between the substance of his thought and his literary and rhetorical techniques, which enhance our understanding of Rousseau’s project and the audiences he intended to reach. (shrink)

When originally published in 1960, this was the first complete English translation since 1799 of Kant's early work on aesthetics. More literary than philosophical, _Observations _shows Kant as a man of feeling rather than the dry thinker he often seemed to readers of the three Critiques.

This article examines the notorious mid-nineteenth-century American trial of Amelia Norman, who was acquitted - very much against the weight of the evidence - of attempting to kill the man who seduced her. In particular, we explore the role in the trial and its aftermath of the affective energies and cultural expectations set in motion by best-selling American sentimental novels like Hannah Foster's "The Coquette" and Susanna Rowson's "Charlotte Temple." In Norman's case, once newspapers, defense lawyers, and reformers such as (...) Lydia Maria Child recast the defendant as a sentimental heroine, the trial became about seduction, not attempted murder. The sentimental emplotment of Norman's life marshaled a powerful set of emotional responses and moral judgments on her behalf. For example, Norman claimed insanity. And since sentimental heroines are supposed to go mad when they are seduced and abandoned, the jury was prepared to interpret her symptoms according to her lawyers' very strategy for establishing her innocence. Ultimately, however, Norman embodied the plight of the sentimental heroine at the same time that she contested her fictional counterpart's fate. In this way, her trial spectacularized the disparity which the sentimental novel conjures up and displaces but never resolves. Going further, the common law theory of coverture, which severely limited the legal personhood of married women, has received a great deal of scholarly attention. Cases like Norman's remind us that unmarried women were also subject to draconian constraints on their legal personhood. The tort of seduction is a key example. Legal historians trace the development of the seduction tort from its common-law origins, when men's property interest in women's bodies formed the basis of the cause of action, to 1851, when Field Code authors (including Norman's lawyer, David Graham) persuaded several states to grant seduced women standing to bring their own cause of action. Consequently, courts were forced to reckon with the seduced woman as a moral agent capable of consenting to sex. As trials like Norman's demonstrate, sentimental novels helped lay the groundwork for this shift in the law by elucidating a subjectivity for the seduced woman. Yet the doctrinal implications of Norman's precedent-setting trial had a second, more ambiguous strain. Other women facing similar charges used the same legal strategy to gain acquittals in a substantial number of cases. Indeed, Norman's sentimental strategy proved so powerful that men on trial for killing their wives' seducers appropriated it to bring their own stories before juries and to reinforce male sexual norms through the so-called honor defense. In the end, then, Norman's trial fostered legal reform, but it also suggested - as Lydia Maria Child's fictionalization of the case in "Rosenglory" recognized - that only sustained and multifaceted efforts to change cultural as well as legal norms could improve the sexual status of women. In addition to its legal, literary, and historical insights that it provides, we also intend this article to contribute to debates on the nature of scholarship in law and literature. Scholars such as Wai Chee Dimock have argued for a focus on the historical and historically shifting relations between law and literature - a view we endorse. Where we differ from Dimock is in our diversion of attention away from abstract ideas of law laid out by treatise writers and philosophers in favor of law experienced and manipulated by individuals. So, too, we are interested less in representations of concepts such as justice in legal and literary texts than we are in the ways in which literature (broadly conceived) can create provisional and fragile opportunities for concrete instantiations of justice and even generate legal change (for good or ill). We would argue that to the extent legal change motivates rather than simply mirrors cultural change, it needs literature to be effective. This project, then, responds to Gregg Crane's call for attention to the complex and slippery historical interactions of law and literature that shape and are shaped by an ever changing cultural idiom of justice. The extended story of Amelia Norman, in short, not only constitutes a case study in the inescapable interaction between the overlapping and interdependent discourses of law and literature, but also reveals the literary and legal consequences of that interaction. (shrink)

Consider a familiar case. A sign reads, “No vehicles in the park.” A man in the park has a heart attack. An ambulance is needed. Does its entry violate the rule? Most people would say that the rule was not meant to apply to needed ambulances. It would not make any difference if the rule read, “No vehicles whatsoever in the park.” The purpose of any rule against vehicles would not be served by a flat prohibition of ambulances. Consider a (...) second case. A child comes to the park on a tricycle. Is he barred from entering? A tricycle is a vehicle. But is it the kind of vehicle the author of the sign had in mind? He may only have wanted to preserve the park from fast or noisy vehicles. The purpose of the rule again becomes crucial. Is the purpose to maintain quiet and security, or is the purpose to assure absolute tranquility? The prohibition of the tricycle will depend on what purpose is accepted. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Harmony Between Rousseau’s Musical Theory and his PhilosophyJohn T. ScottRousseau is best known as the author of philosophic works, but he was a musician and musical theorist before he burst onto the European literary scene with his First Discourse. While he earned celebrity as an anti-philosophical philosopher, he continued to consider music as his primary vocation and avocation throughout his life. Rousseau testifies to the harmony between his (...) musical work and his philosophy in his Dialogues, where he explains that his musical writings and compositions are animated by the same feelings and ideas as all of his works—that they too are based on the principle of his “system” that “man is good although men are wicked.” 1 His mature musical theory not only incorporates his philosophy of human nature and development but also extends it through an examination of the role of the passions in human communication. Rousseau’s musical theory is an important, yet often overlooked, facet of his philosophy.The relationship between Rousseau’s musical theory and his philosophy as a whole has seldom been extensively analyzed. 2 His only widely known writing relating to music is the Essay on the Origin of Languages, but even that work has in general not received a full accounting because it has rarely been interpreted in light of his other musical writings. The Essay emerged out of both the Second Discourse and the contemporaneous musical polemics of the mid-1750s. The simultaneous elaboration of his “system” and his continued work on music was the context in which Rousseau’s mature musical theory developed. After an account of Rousseau’s pre-systematic musical writings and [End Page 287] a discussion of the development of his musical theory, I will turn to an examination of the Essay. Finally, I will conclude by discussing Rousseau’s novel aesthetic theory and its impact.Rousseau’s Presystematic Musical Writings“Jean-Jacques was born for music.” 3 Rousseau’s musical writings might be characterized as his attempt to account for his native love for music. In his Confessions he speaks of “the taste or rather passion for music” that he had almost from birth and says that it was while in Italy, after running away from Geneva at age sixteen, that his passion began to declare itself. 4 Rousseau increasingly indulged his love for music over the next several years, although six months in a choir school at about the age of seventeen was almost the only formal musical instruction he received. He acquired and painstakingly mastered Rameau’s Treatise on Harmony, and studied informally with a young organist with Italian training, recalling how he compared his friend’s “principles” to those of “my Rameau.” 5 At least in retrospect, then, Rousseau noted the contrast between French and Italian music that would later bring him into conflict with his youthful hero.Rousseau soon took up the profession of a music teacher and copyist, a trade to which he would return after abandoning philosophy. Copying music acquainted him with the difficulty of the ordinary visual system of notating music, and he therefore devised a numerical system. It was with his system of notation and a play, Narcisse, that Rousseau set out for Paris in 1741. He gained an audience for his “Plan Regarding New Signs for Music” (1742) at the Academy of Sciences, and while it was favorably received, the report of a select committee concluded that his system was not entirely new and was less practical in most respects than the ordinary system. 6 Rousseau was nonetheless convinced of his system’s utility and published it as the Dissertation on Modern Music (1743). This work contains a digression on musical expression where he explains that we are not “touched” by sounds themselves but by the harmonic relationships they have among them. He sends his reader to Rameau’s writings, where the source of musical expression is “sufficiently explained.” 7 In his mature musical writings Rousseau expounds a theory explicitly opposed to Rameau’s theory of musical expression.Several incidents in the next decade before the discovery of his “system” seem to have contributed to Rousseau’s subsequent break with Rameau. [End... (shrink)

Our paper explores how the affective energies and cultural expectations set in motion by best-selling American sentimental novels like Hannah Foster's The Coquette and Susanna Rowson's Charlotte Temple informed the notorious mid-nineteenth-century American trial of Amelia Norman, who attempted to kill the man who seduced her. Once newspapers, defense lawyers, and reformers such as Lydia Maria Child recast the defendant as a sentimental heroine, the trial became about seduction, and Norman was acquitted against the weight of the evidence. Sentimental novels (...) turn on the contrast between the passive victim status of the heroine and the active libidinal quest of the rake-villain. As Cathy Davidson points out, this fiction is "about silence, subservience, stasis (the accepted attributes of women as traditionally defined) in contradistinction to conflicting impulses toward independence, action, and self expression (the ideals of the new American nation)." The seduction plot diverts attention from this disparity by establishing an affective solidarity between heroine and reader and elevating the ruined woman to a tragic status. The sentimental emplotment of Norman's life marshaled a powerful set of emotional responses and moral judgements on her behalf. Norman claimed insanity. And since sentimental heroines are supposed to go mad when they are seduced and abandoned, the jury was prepared to interpret her symptoms according to her lawyers' very strategy for establishing her innocence. Ultimately, however, Norman embodied the plight of the sentimental heroine at the same time that she contested her fictional counterpart's fate. In this way, her trial spectacularized the disparity which the sentimental novel conjures up and displaces but never resolves. The common law theory of coverture, which severely limited the legal personhood of married women, has received a great deal of scholarly attention. Cases like Norman's remind us that unmarried women were also subject to draconian constraints on their legal personhood. The tort of seduction is a key example. Legal historians trace the development of the seduction tort from its common-law origins, when men's property interest in women's bodies formed the basis of the cause of action, to 1851, when Field Code authors (including Norman's lawyer David Graham) persuaded several states to grant seduced women standing to bring their own cause of action. Consequently, courts were forced to reckon with the seduced woman as a moral agent capable of consenting to sex. As trials like Norman's demonstrate, sentimental novels helped lay the groundwork for this shift in the law by elucidating a subjectivity for the seduced woman. Yet the doctrinal implications of Norman's precedent-setting trial had a second, more ambiguous strain. Norman's sentimental strategy proved so powerful that men on trial for killing their wive's seducers appropriated it to bring their own stories before juries and to reinforce male sexual norms. In the end, then, Norman's trial fostered legal reform, but it also suggested - as Child's fictionalization of the case in "Rosenglory" recognized - that only sustained and multifaceted efforts to change cultural as well as legal norms could improve the sexual status of women. Scholars such as Wai Chee Dimock have argued for a focus "on the historical and historically shifting relations between law and literature" - a view we endorse. Where we differ from Dimock is in our diversion of attention away from abstract ideas of law laid out by treatise writers and philosophers in favor of law experienced and manipulated by individuals. So, too, we are interested less in representations of concepts such as justice in legal and literary texts than we are in the ways in which literature (broadly conceived) can create provisional and fragile opportunities for concrete instantiations of justice and even generate legal change (for good or ill). Going further, we would argue that to the extent legal change motivates rather than simply mirrors cultural change, it needs literature to be effective. Thus, we see no need to characterize - and indeed reject the depiction of - law as "a limited arena" in which ideas of morality have little place. This project, then, responds to Gregg Crane's call for attention to "the complex and slippery historical interactions of law and literature that shape and are shaped by an ever changing cultural idiom of justice." The extended story of Amelia Norman not only constitutes a case study in the inescapable interaction between the overlapping and interdependent discourses of law and literature, but also reveals the literary and legal consequences of that interaction. (shrink)

John Ruskin, a famous English philosopher and art professional, wrote "The Ethics of the Dust" in 1866. It is the best thing he has ever executed like it. In this book, Ruskin teaches morals in a totally distinctive way: he uses the fairy world as a metaphor to teach morals to kids. There are a variety of conversations within the story between elemental beings that represent various things about nature, education, and being yourself. The Fairy Queen, who is a (...) good man or woman, teaches the alternative fairies approximately the whole thing, from a way to be lovely and do their task to being fair and honest. Some of Ruskin's moral training come from his symbolic tales and his poetry. He talks about being honest, how training can exchange someone, and how human beings are related to the herbal international thru the fairy chats. No, "The Ethics of the Dust" isn't just a story. It's a psychological portray that makes human beings consider how they act morally and the way society as an entire act morally. Ruskin's specific mix of magic and morals is a laugh and easy way to teach humans approximately being aware about others and their very own variations. (shrink)

This biography of Jacques Derrida tells the story of a Jewish boy from Algiers, excluded from school at the age of twelve, who went on to become the most widely translated French philosopher in the world – a vulnerable, tormented man who, throughout his life, continued to see himself as unwelcome in the French university system. We are plunged into the different worlds in which Derrida lived and worked: pre-independence Algeria, the microcosm of the École Normale Supérieure, the cluster of (...) structuralist thinkers, and the turbulent events of 1968 and after. We meet the remarkable series of leading writers and philosophers with whom Derrida struck up a friendship: Louis Althusser, Emmanuel Levinas, Jean Genet, and Hélène Cixous, among others. We also witness an equally long series of often brutal polemics fought over crucial issues with thinkers such as Michel Foucault, Jacques Lacan, John R. Searle, and Jürgen Habermas, as well as several controversies that went far beyond academia, the best known of which concerned Heidegger and Paul de Man. We follow a series of courageous political commitments in support of Nelson Mandela, illegal immigrants, and gay marriage. And we watch as a concept – deconstruction – takes wing and exerts an extraordinary influence way beyond the philosophical world, on literary studies, architecture, law, theology, feminism, queer theory, and postcolonial studies. In writing this compelling and authoritative biography, Benoît Peeters talked to over a hundred individuals who knew and worked with Derrida. He is also the first person to make use of the huge personal archive built up by Derrida throughout his life and of his extensive correspondence. Peeters’ book gives us a new and deeper understanding of the man who will perhaps be seen as the major philosopher of the second half of the twentieth century. (shrink)

We give a general account of the goals of axiomatization, introducing a variant on Detlefsen’s notion of ‘complete descriptive axiomatization’. We describe how distinctions between the Greek and modern view of number, magnitude, and proportion impact the interpretation of Hilbert’s axiomatization of geometry. We argue, as did Hilbert, that Euclid’s propositions concerning polygons, area, and similar triangles are derivable from Hilbert’s first-order axioms. We argue that Hilbert’s axioms including continuity show much more than the geometrical propositions of Euclid’s theorems and (...) thus are an immodest complete descriptive axiomatization of that subject. (shrink)

The great biologist Louis Pasteur suppressed 'awkward' data because it didn't support the case he was making. John Snow, the 'first epidemiologist' was doing nothing others had not done before. Gregor Mendel, the supposed 'founder of genetics' never grasped the fundamental principles of 'Mendelian' genetics. Joseph Lister's famously clean hospital wards were actually notorious dirty. And Einstein's general relativity was only 'confirmed' in 1919 because an eminent British scientist cooked his figures. These are just some of the revelations explored (...) in this book. Drawing on current history of science scholarship, Fabulous Science shows that many of our greatest heroes of science were less than honest about their experimental data and not above using friends in high places to help get their ideas accepted. It also reveals that the alleged revolutionaries of the history of science were often nothing of the sort. Prodigiously able they may have been, but the epithet of the 'man before his time' usually obscures vital contributions made their unsung contemporaries and the intrinsic merits of ideas they overturned. These distortions of the historical record mostly arise from our tendency to read the present back into the past. But in many cases, scientists owe their immortality to a combination of astonishing effrontery and their skills as self-promoters. (shrink)

Aquinas famously held that only intellectual beings can grasp the natures or essences of things and cognize universals per se. Below these intellectual beings, however, were the non-human animals who shared many of the interior sense faculties in common with man; such animals’ highest sense was merely what is called the estimative power. Aquinas’s account of animal cognition has largely been ignored in contemporary biological research, although hopes for a resurgence have been emerging in the Thomistic world. In this paper (...) I seek to explicate Aquinas’s account of animal cognitive activities, particularly by explicating a more detailed account of animal cognitive action as found in the biological works of Aristotle known by Aquinas. I then turn to various contemporary biological findings to show that many purported modern discoveries (like dolphins rescuing a man or recognition of social hierarchies) shouldn’t be so surprising after all. Many such cognitive acts were already there in the texts of Aristotle read by Aquinas. (shrink)

The straw man fallacy consists in inappropriately constructing or selecting weak versions of the opposition's arguments. We will survey the three forms of straw men recognized in the literature, the straw, weak, and hollow man. We will then make the case that there are examples of inappropriately reconstructing stronger versions of the opposition's arguments. Such cases we will call iron man fallacies.

_The Social Thought of Ortega y Gasset_ is the third and final volume of John T. Graham's massive investigation of the thought of Ortega, the renowned twentieth-century Spanish essayist and philosopher. This volume concludes the synthetic trilogy on Ortega's thought as a whole, after previous studies of his philosophy of life and his theory of history. As the last thing on which he labored, Ortega's social theory completed what he called a "system of life" in three dimensions—a unity in (...) the plurality of philosophy, history, and sociology as three fundamental disciplines that enter into and overlap each other and other humanities. In this volume, Graham investigates Ortega's social thought as expressed in his central work, _Man and People,_ and in several pragmatic fields, interpreting it all in terms of comprehensive categories of postmodernism and interdisciplinarity. While others have studied Ortega's social thought and recently his postmodernity, no one has done so in the context of his thought as a whole or by such a variety of methods. The "unity in plurality" of Ortega's system is evident in the broad and varied structure of his sociology, which he intended to serve for postmodern times. His own postmodernism was rooted in Nietzsche but also in the pragmatism—from James, Peirce, and Dewey—that informs all parts of this trilogy. Ortega was the first educator with an interdisciplinary theory and practice—another aspect of the "unity in plurality" of his system. He found inspiration in both ancient and modern precedents for what he saw as a postmodern method of investigating themes and problems that are common to all the human sciences. Innovations at his Institute of Humanities were early postmodern precedents for a new interdisciplinary social method for use by specialists in a variety of fields. All of those interested in Ortega can utilize such methods to elucidate his thought as a whole as well as to pursue their own collaborative work. Home Complete Catalog Order Information Search. (shrink)

Scholars of ideology in social-scientific disciplines, including psychology, sociology, and political science, stand to benefit from taking seriously the philosophical contributions of Professor Peter Railton. This is because Railton provides much-needed conceptual precision—and a rare sense of epistemological and moral clarity—to a topic that is notoriously slippery and prone to relativistic musing and the drawing of false equivalences. In an essay entitled “Morality, Ideology, and Reflection: Or, the Duck Sits Yet,” Railton (2000/2003) aptly identified the purpose of ideological analysis as (...) the unmasking of “nonepistemic” interests—that is, interests other than truth-seeking, accuracy, or warrant —that contribute to the development, adoption, and dissemination of political and religious belief systems. (shrink)

Where do we find ourselves? -- Not with syllables but men -- Essaying America -- Living multiplicity: a matter of course -- Emerson, race, and the conduct of life -- Reforming ethical life -- Emerson and the case of philosophy -- Abbreviations for Emerson's works.

Ataxia‐telangiectasia (A‐T), an inherited disorder giving radiation sensitivity and cancer‐proneness, is discussed in terms of a defect in ability to repair DNA damage. A new assay using damaged recombinant DNA molecules suggests that the fidelity of repair of DNA double‐strand breaks is reduced in an A‐T cell line. Specific chromosomal changes in some A‐T patients appear to be associated with cancer induction, and it is suggested that these could be linked to a DNA repair‐fidelity defect. However, a general correlation between (...) radiosensitivity and cancer‐proneness is difficult to establish at present, partly because of diversity in radiosensitivity in the normal population. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE FAILURE OF HUME'S TREATISE The Treatise is, of course, a failure; Hume tells us so himself. Hume's reservations about the Treatise both in later writings and even within the work itself are well known. What is less clear is exactly why Hume found the Treatise so unsatisfactory. This is a complicated question, for to explain why the Treatise does not live up to Hume's expectations presupposes an understanding (...) of the more fundamental problem of what Hume's expectations were in the first place. In what follows I present a theory about what it was that Hume hoped to accomplish in the Treatise and why this project was ultimately unsuccessful. In the first two sections of this paper I discuss three philosophical positions with which Hume was concerned, and I present three faculties of the understanding which he isolates in the Treatise. In the third section I argue that Hume's goal is to match these three philosophical positions with the three faculties, and by doing so to provide both a critique of unsatisfactory positions and a foundation for his own "science of man." I conclude by showing that this matching project is ultimately unsuccessful, thus dooming the Treatise to at least partial failure. My analysis is based primarily on Treatise I; without argument here I subscribe to Kemp Smith's thesis that Treatise I represents the most advanced stage of thinking in the 2 Treatise. This explains to me how Hume can continue to write Books II and III after the partial failure of the project which he registers in the conclusion of Treatise I. I read the conclusion to Book I as the conclusion of the whole project. Three Philosophical Positions The three philosophical positions which I wish to discuss are described by Hume at one point as that of the vulgar, that of a false philosophy, and that of the true (T222). 58. Let us discuss them in that order: 1.Vulgar Superstition. Hume frequently discusses and criticizes a set of beliefs and ways of thinking which for convenience I call "vulgar superstition." The real enemy here is popular religion, which for Hume is the clearest expression of this mode of thought. In the Treatise Hume is more wary of criticizing popular religion than he sometimes was in later works, but the general target of his remarks is still clear. The kinds of thought Hume has in mind here are bigotry, superstition, credulity, prejudice, and indoctrination. This type of thinking presents a constant barrier to human enlightenment and progress, and for Hume the role of philosophy is to attack superstition and keep it in check. As Hume expressed it a few years later, One considerable advantage that arises from philosophy, consists in the sovereign antidote which it offers to superstition and false religion. All other remedies against that pestilent distemper are vague, or at least uncertain. 2.Dogmatism. Another target which Hume attacks in the Treatise is a dogmatic or rationalistic approach to philosophy, best exemplified by Cambridge Platonism and Cartesianism. This type of philosophy seeks to base ethics upon pure reason, to know things with certainty, and to penetrate the ultimate nature of man, God, and the universe. Hume hopes to show the fallacy of all this philosophy (T 413) by showing that reason can never motivate action, that only fools claim to know things with certainty (T 270), and that we must be content to understand the appearance of things rather than to know their secret causes (T 64). 3.The Science of Man. Hume's own position, the "science of man," is presented as a middle ground-empirical rather than a priori and scientific rather than superstitious. The goal of this true philosophy is to discover the original qualities of human nature (T 562), resulting in a Newtonian analysis of man himself. For Hume true philosophers are characterized by their moderate scepticism (T 224), so Hume's system is to be built on probable judgments rather than certain ones, and it will deal with appearances rather than essences. Here again Hume follows the "constructive scepticism" of Newton. Hume sees considerable danger in following either rationalism or superstition, but he has great... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Missing Shade of Blue Re-viewed John 0. Nelson It is obviously important for Hume's purposes in the Treatise to maintain that simple ideas are always founded in precedent, resembling impressions;1 andhe explicitly, overandover, doesso, evensometimes being so carried away by this first principle ofhis science of man (T 7) or so careless as to say that not just all simple ideas but all ideas are founded in (...) precedent, resembling impressions. At the same time, as often noted, Hume explicitly maintains that it is possible for there to be a simple idea having no precedent, corresponding impression. He argues: There is however one contradictory phaenomenon, which may prove, that 'tis not absolutely impossible for ideas to go before their correspondent impressions... Suppose... a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to have become perfectly well acquainted with colours of all kinds, excepting one particular shade of blue... Let all the different shades of that colour, except that single one, beplac'd before him... Now Iask, whether 'tis possible for him, from his own imagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himselfthe idea ofthat particular shade, tho' it had never been conveyed to him by his senses? I believe there arefew but will be ofopinion that he can; and this may serve as a proof, that the simple ideas are not always derived from the correspondent impressions. (T 5) Nowjust prior to this concession (as Cummins calls it ), Hume has said that the full examination ofthis question [the causal relationship between ideas and impression] is the subject of the present treatise; and therefore we shall here content ourselves with establishing one general proposition, That all our simple ideas in their first appearance are deriv'd from simple impressions, which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. (T 4) Volume XV Number 2 353 JOHN O. NELSON And just after the same concession, that a simple idea may be raised up which does not have a prior, correspondent impression, Hume says that it still remains true, that all our simple ideas proceed either mediately or immediately, from their correspondent impressions (T 7). Thus we have Hume explicitly asserting, it seems, both that all simple ideas have precedent correspondent impressions and that they do not. But this, on the face ofit, is an arrant contradiction! Can Hume have Homerically nodded? We have been quoting from the Treatise, but Hume makes the very same contradictory-seeming claims in the Enquiryl A thinker of Hume's acumen might nod for a page or two's quarter hour but not for all of nine years! Moreover, in both places Hume refers to the phenomenon of the impression-less idea ofblue as a contradictory phenomenon, indicating clearly enough that he was himself aware of there seeming to be an inconsistency here in his contentions. What can possibly be going on? Is Hume deliberately being paradoxical? Perhaps trying, for sensation's sake, to shock the reader and so increase sales of his work, as some commentators in the past might have wished to say? But this would be at the expense ofhis own contentions and principles and not the reader's, and not even Hume's bitterest foes and most malicious critics — so far as I know — have ever proposed that Hume would, figuratively speaking, like Oedipus, gouge out his own eyes, even in order to increase sales of the Treatise, nor does it make the slightest sense to think he would. The mystery deepens when we remember that Hume has said, in defining the program of the Treatise, that his intention is to establish the one general proposition that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are deriv'd from simple impressions, which are correspondentto them (T4). What astrange way, we want to exclaim, to show that all our simple ideas are derived from correspondent simple impressions by almost immediately afterwards arguing that it is possible to have an idea that has had no correspondent, precedent impression! Such an egregious nonsequitur mightbe expected ofan absolutely incompetent beginner in philosophy, but we are speaking of David Hume, generally recognized as the profoundest and most acute of... (shrink)

Es hat sich als ausgesprochen schwierig erwiesen, für Leibniz' Auffassung, daß kontingente Wahrheiten unendlich komplex sind, eine Interpretation zu finden, die diese Auffassung kohärent erscheinen läßt. Dies liegt daran, daß seine Kommentatoren dazu neigen, sich für die unendliche Analyse einer kontingenten Wahrheit am Vorbild eines nicht endenden logischen Beweises zu orientieren. Ich versuche hingegen zu zeigen, daß unendliche Analysen als unendliche Reihe immer komplexerer und detaillierterer physischer Argumente aufgefaßt werden sollten. Ferner versuche ich zu zeigen, daß die Theorie der unendlichen (...) Analyse speziell für die Wahrung dessen entworfen wurde, was man ,innerweltliche' Kontingenz nennen könnte, d.h. einer Kontingenz, die aus internen Merkmalen einer gegebenen moglichen Welt hervorgeht, im Gegensatz zu einer Kontingenz, die aus Überlegungen dariiber entsteht, welche anderen Welten Gott geschaffen haben konnte. Um innerweltliche Köntingenz geht es, wenn Leibniz scheinbare Gefahren für die Freiheit betrachtet, die aus seiner Erklärung von Wahrheit als einem begrifflichen Enthaltensein entstehen. (shrink)

Nostalgia is only the beginning of a recognizably ideological discourse. The way through to the ideological sense of Tennyson’s “failure,” beneath the phenomenal glow of Eliot’s nostalgia, lies in the entanglement of minority in this complex of meanings, the determination that Tennyson is properly placed when seen as a “minor Virgil.” The diffusion of a major talent in minor works suggests that what Tennyson or Eliot might have been was another Virgil, and for Eliot that means simply a “classic.” In (...) “What Is a Classic?,” we are told that English literature has no classic poet who would exalt, as Virgil or Dante did, the truths of his age.14 The absence of a modern classic reflects not an individual failure but rather the absence of a universal truth, which has been hidden in the minor works. Here is the reason both for the ambivalence Eliot expresses about the fact of minority and for the peculiar, and certainly not necessary, association of poetic minority with a marginal elite.15It is the latter point to which I now want to turn. If it has been shown that the canon Eliot legislated in his early career was not merely an arbitrary set of aesthetic preferences, we have not yet fully evinced the ideological sense of Eliot’s canonical principle. We have only determined that one way to reconstruct Eliot’s canon would be to list those “minor” poets. But the essential quality of their minority, what drives them away from the “mainstream” of English literature, is what Eliot approved as their fidelity to “tradition.” Such a concept of tradition must be exclusive as well as revisionary, because it implies that the major poets of English literary history cannot also be “traditional.” Eliot finally understood that his canonical principle was the literary reflection of a more fundamental evaluative norm, extrinsic to literature, which he identified as “orthodoxy.” So he tells us in After Strange Gods that he is rewriting “Tradition and the Individual Talent” by substituting “orthodoxy” for “tradition,” and this is unquestionably an ideological correction.16 In the same way, the canon of minor writers is established retrospectively as determined by the rule of orthodoxy. Neither they nor the young Eliot need be orthodox Christians for this rule to have enabled their productions. It is precisely Eliot’s meaning that these elite, like the “elect” before them, may come at some point to a conviction of their election, yet they were always the elect. In this sense, Eliot’s conversion to Christianity was the recognition that he already belonged to a marginal elite, whose membership had been polemically foreshadowed by the construction of an alternative canon. 14. The whole argument of “What Is a Classic?” is interesting in this respect. Eliot’s standard of classical value is “universality,” which is opposed to the “provincial.” The closest English literature comes to a classical age is in the eighteenth century, and this too fails because its “restriction of religious sensibility itself produces a kind of provinciality: the provinciality which indicates the disintegration of Christendom, the decay of a common belief and a common culture”.15. But at least a hint about how to make this connection is given in Eliot’s “The Classics and the Man of Letters,” To Criticize the Critic : “The continuity of literature is essential to its greatness; it is very largely the function of secondary writers to preserve this continuity, and to provide a body of writings which is not necessarily read by posterity, which plays a great part in forming the link between those writers who continue to be read”.16. Eliot, After Strange Gods: A Primer of Modern Heresy, p. 22. John Guillory, assistant professor of English at Yale University, is the author of Poetic Authority: Spenser, Milton, and Literary History. He is currently working on a study of canon-formation. (shrink)

Ranging from Joseph Bellamy to Hilary Putnam, and from early New England Divinity Schools to contemporary university philosophy departments, historian Bruce Kuklick recounts the story of the growth of philosophical thinking in the United States. Readers will explore the thought of early American philosphers such as Jonathan Edwards and John Witherspoon and will see how the political ideas of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson influenced philosophy in colonial America. Kuklick discusses The Transcendental Club (members Henry David Thoreau, (...) Ralph Waldo Emerson) and describes the rise of pragmatism centered on Metaphysical Club of Cambridge (and members William James, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and Charles Peirce). He examines the profound impact Darwinism had on American philosophy and looks at Idealists such as the Kantian Josiah Royce and the Hegelian John Dewey. The book shows how, in the twentieth century, the Nazi conquest of Europe unleashed a flood of European intellectuals onto these shores, including such major thinkers as Theodore Adorno, Erich Fromm, Rudolph Carnap, and Alfred Tarski. Finally, Kuklick examines the contributions of such contemporary philosophers as Sidney Hook and Willard Quine and such books as John Rawl's A Theory of Justice and Herbert Marcuse's One Dimensional Man. Kuklick pulls no punches in portraying the state of American philosophy today and its contested role in the intellectual life of the nation and the world. The range of philosophical thought in our nation's history has been great, from Edwards's Religious Affections to Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, and Bruce Kuklick has captured it all in a book that blends intricate details with sweeping vision. (shrink)

Rousseau coined the term perfectibilité to name what he claimed was the faculty that distinguished human beings from other animals. Although Rousseau himself largely associated perfectibility with the tendency of the human race to become corrupt, later thinkers adopted his term but then transformed it into a concept denoting the human capacity for progress. This article has two goals. The first goal is to analyse Rousseau’s discussion of perfectibilité in order to identify a specifically Rousseauean of perfectibilité. I identify three (...) related features of Rousseau’s perfectibilité: the ambiguous status of both instinct and freedom, the unique malleability of human nature, and the fact that perfectibilité operates on both the levels of the individual and the species. The second goal is to examine the transformation of this specifically Rousseauean conception in the thought of one of the thinker largely responsible for giving it a very different direction, Condorcet. (shrink)

Descartes published his Meditations in First Philosophy in 1641. A French translation from the original Latin, which he saw and approved, followed six years later. The words ‘in First Philosophy’ indicate that the Meditations attack fundamental questions, the chief of them being the nature of knowledge and the nature of man. I shall deal almost entirely with his treatment of the first, the nature of knowledge; even when the two questions become mixed up, as they notoriously do, I shall not (...) encroach on to the second, the nature of man. The Meditations were intended to confirm Descartes' reputation as a philosopher (he was already pre-eminent as a mathematician and a scientist) and, to increase their impact, they were accompanied in their first publication by a series of comments solicited from notable theologians and philosophers together with Descartes' replies. These comments are called the Objections and numbered from one to six, but it is only an accident that there are six Meditations and six Objections. There are six Objections because there are six objectors (that is not quite true, the sixth Objection being a collection of comments from several people) and each Objection ranges over the whole work, although, of course, the different commentators focused upon the parts they found important or questionable. Many of the Objections, particularly those of Arnauld and Gassendi, contain acute and valuable criticisms. Descartes took exception to Gassendi's contribution and wished not to have it published. He maintained that Gassendi quite misunderstood him, but that doesn't seem true. It is true that Gassendi pokes fun at Descartes in addressing him first ‘O Soul’ and later, pretending to realize his mistake, ‘O Mind’, but no doubt the trouble was that Gassendi understood rather too well, fastening upon inconsequentialities in the argument and inconsistencies in the thought and finding, against both, formidable arguments. Inconsequentialities and inconsistencies there are, so much so that the work is a set of parts rested together to give the appearance of a construction, not fitted together really to make one. That did not prevent the Meditations having as great an influence on philosophical thought as any work from the day of its publication to our own, or prevent Descartes' ideas from occupying the minds of philosophers ever since. (shrink)

A letter from Martin Heidegger.--On the way to being; reflecting on conversations with Martin Heidegger, by Z. Adamczewski.--Heidegger's view and evaluation of nature and natural science, by E. G. Ballard.--Truth as art: an interpretation of Heidegger's Sein und Zeit (sec. 44) and Der Ursprung des Kunstwerkes, by C. D. Keyes.--The language of the event: the event of language, by T. Kisiel.--Heidegger: the problem of the thing, by T. Langan.--The late Heidegger's omission of the ontic-ontological structure of Dasein, by R. Powell.--Towards (...) the movement of reversal: science, technology, and the language of homecoming, by J. Sallis.--Prolegomena to "Time and being": truth and time, by A. Schuwer.--Cosmos, nature, and man and the foundations of psychiatry, by A.-T. Tymieniecka.--Heidegger and the existential a priori, by J. Wild. (shrink)

Descartes published his Meditations in First Philosophy in 1641. A French translation from the original Latin, which he saw and approved, followed six years later. The words ‘in First Philosophy’ indicate that the Meditations attack fundamental questions, the chief of them being the nature of knowledge and the nature of man. I shall deal almost entirely with his treatment of the first, the nature of knowledge; even when the two questions become mixed up, as they notoriously do, I shall not (...) encroach on to the second, the nature of man. The Meditations were intended to confirm Descartes' reputation as a philosopher (he was already pre-eminent as a mathematician and a scientist) and, to increase their impact, they were accompanied in their first publication by a series of comments solicited from notable theologians and philosophers together with Descartes' replies. These comments are called the Objections and numbered from one to six, but it is only an accident that there are six Meditations and six Objections. There are six Objections because there are six objectors (that is not quite true, the sixth Objection being a collection of comments from several people) and each Objection ranges over the whole work, although, of course, the different commentators focused upon the parts they found important or questionable. Many of the Objections, particularly those of Arnauld and Gassendi, contain acute and valuable criticisms. Descartes took exception to Gassendi's contribution and wished not to have it published. He maintained that Gassendi quite misunderstood him, but that doesn't seem true. It is true that Gassendi pokes fun at Descartes in addressing him first ‘O Soul’ and later, pretending to realize his mistake, ‘O Mind’, but no doubt the trouble was that Gassendi understood rather too well, fastening upon inconsequentialities in the argument and inconsistencies in the thought and finding, against both, formidable arguments. Inconsequentialities and inconsistencies there are, so much so that the work is a set of parts rested together to give the appearance of a construction, not fitted together really to make one. That did not prevent the Meditations having as great an influence on philosophical thought as any work from the day of its publication to our own, or prevent Descartes' ideas from occupying the minds of philosophers ever since. (shrink)

In a recent discussion of the notion of substance Miss Anscombe points out that the following three doctrines are very closely associated: the doctrine that proper names lack all connotation, are mere labels, the view that there is nothing essential to the individual, and the doctrine that individuals are bare particulars with no properties in and of themselves. In this article as well as in other writings she rejects all three of these doctrines. And, along with P. T. Geach, whose (...) position on this matter I take to be identical to hers, she defends a doctrine of proper names that is based upon this rejection. She is quite right in supposing that the notion of individuality embodied in these three doctrines is not a straw man. E. B. Allaire has recently defended the doctrine that there are bare particulars along with its corollaries about names and the nominal essence of individuals. He even thinks the doctrine can be defended on “common sense” grounds, independently of dialectical considerations. In this paper I wish to examine one of his arguments in defence of bare particulars. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Rembrandt BookProfessor Emeritus John Adkins RichardsonThe Rembrandt Book by Gary Schwartz. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2006, 384 pp. $40.95, cloth.This truly is the Rembrandt book. Substantial in every way, it is physically imposing, magnificently printed on heavy, glossy stock and profusely illustrated with splendid color reproductions of all the master’s major works and many sketches and preparatory drawings, as well as etchings and dry-point engravings. (...) Gary Schwartz, who studied art history at New York University and Johns Hopkins University, is now living in the Netherlands. The merits of his book are enormous. Not only is it filled with magnificent reproductions, there are tables and graphs detailing such things as the number of Rembrandt paintings in catalogues from 1836 to 1992; analyses of the artist’s borrowings and adaptations in five-year periods; key dates in the life of the man; Rembrandt’s relation to the forms of sale for paintings in the Dutch seventeenth century; and so on. There is even a computer rendering of the famous depiction of Captain Banning Cocq’s Company of Guards at the Gates of Amsterdam (popularly called The Night Watch), specifying the weapons shown and identifying all present, either by name and title or by a description, such as “girl in gold and blue,” “pikeman,” “musketeer,” etc.A sampling of the chapter headings and subcategories suggests just how comprehensive is Schwartz’s treatment: 1. Introduction, 2. A Dutch Artist’s Life, 3. Family, Loved Ones, Households, 4. Craft, 5. Earning and Spending, 6. Patrons, 7. Landscape, 8. Humankind, 9. Man and God. Just the specifics of the last chapter are remarkably capacious: Holy Family; Christ’s Ministry; Passion, Death and Afterlife; Divine Intervention; Holy People; Moral Examples from the Old Testament; The Man of God, Simeon; Afterlife; and Rembrandt as a Christian Rhetorician of the Brush. It’s hard to imagine a better reference for the lay reader than The Rembrandt Book.The book is also full of interesting contrasts of opinion as well as some surprising remarks. As for one of the latter, Schwartz writes that Rembrandt’s “portraits are said to be more ‘psychological’ than those of his contemporaries. What this might mean I frankly do not understand” (213). He goes on to note that the field of psychology did not exist in Rembrandt’s time. However, from long before its invention people spoke of Rembrandt’s ability to reveal the soul of the sitter. Indeed, the reason I was not surprised, although somewhat distressed, when the Rembrandt Research Project—a group of connoisseurs set up in 1969 with the explicit charge of authenticating all works ascribed to the master—announced in 1985 that The Man with a Golden Helmet in Berlin was not by the master at all, was that I had all along been troubled by this face that lacked the quality of animation in repose so [End Page 115] characteristic of Rembrandt portraits. Schwartz thinks the artist would have to have relied upon the ancient theory of the humors to do “characterological descriptions” of his sitters, and that in portraiture, “such characterizations would quickly resemble caricatures.” And, indeed, they do, but in profoundly subtle ways, much as someone like the popular illustrator Norman Rockwell employed tiny caricature-like distortions to project a kind of homely Americanism. I’m not comparing Rockwell to Rembrandt but choosing a realistic illustrator in whose work the trick is more apparent. Caricature can be as broad as it is in Jacques Callot, William Hogarth, or Honoré Daumier and yet be a feature of true art. Or so it seems to me, admittedly, a sometimes cartoonist as well as painter and engraver.Schwartz’s completeness of coverage leads him to include, in addition to superb drawings and prints, some that are so careless and hasty as to make one doubt their authenticity. One of the works of marginal quality is an etching of Six’s Bridge, which is said to have been created outdoors, hastily, on the site. This is a hotly debated issue. Rembrandt is known to have carried “varnished”—that is, grounded—copper etching plates, so there wouldn’t seem much reason to... (shrink)

Suddendorf explores “the gap” between humans and other animals, with a particular emphasis on our great ape relatives. Both for nonscientists and those scientists or philosophers whose work is not centrally preoccupied with such questions, the book provides a tidy compendium of experimental results organized around a number of precisely defined areas of competence. He takes language, mental time travel, theory of mind, intelligence, culture and morality to be definitive of human cognitive prowess and judiciously evaluates the comparative evidence he (...) has assembled in respect of each of them .What is especially refreshing about his interpretations is that they come off as measured and dispassionate just when one imagines the pull of optimism would be strongest. At no point does he rely on hand-waving explanations or recapitulate familiar pieties about man and beast. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Abailard and the Problem of Universals JOHN F. BOLER ABAILARD t IS A CLEVERman, but in one respect he is just like the rest of us: Given one clear idea of which he is convinced, he tends to become intolerant, thinking the worst of everyone else. Abailard's clear idea goes something as follows. In what does universality consist? It consists, says Abailard, in the signifying of many things (...) by one sign? Abailard's predecessors had been searching for some thing which was universal. But a sign must signify many things to be universal; and furthermore, the sign itself, as a thing--a noise, gesture, or statue--is individual. ~ It may help to describe the model which crops up here and there in Abailard's examples and which, I think, dominates his analysis. Consider, then, a statue which is not meant to stand for any one particular individual: for example, the Minute Man at Concord, Massachusetts.* First of all, the statue is an individual thing. Second, just as a piece of metal, it need not stand for anything--anymore than a bird bath would, had the town council decided to build that instead. What is more, it is information from other sources which leads us to take the statue as "general" rather than as depicting some individual (like Nathan Hale). And even though the statue stands for "all" minute men, not only is the statue an individual thing but all those things for which it stands are (or were) individuals. And finally, we might also point out that the statue must be taken as signifying; it does not have "representative" qualities in quite the same way that it has properties like weight and shape. t The text of Abailard to which I have referred is: Peter Abaelards Philosophische Schrqte, herausgegeben yon Dr. Bernhard Geyer, I Die Logica "Ingredientibus,'" II Die Logica "'Nostrorum Petitioni Sociorum" which is to be found in Beitraege zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters, Band XXI (1933). A partial translation of this text appears in R. McKeon, Selections from Medieval Philosophers (New York: Scribners, 1929), II, 208-258. Hereafter I shall refer to the latin text as "G" followed by the page number and lines; and to the translation, where possible, as "'M" with the page number. 9Abailard feels that when Aristotle says that a universal is what is fitted for being predicated of many things, it is the signifying of many things which is at stake; and he chides Aristotle for seeming to ascribe universality to things as well as to words. G ~ (M 221). The reference to Aristotle is On Interpretation, 17a (38-40). *See note 7, below. 9I have interpolated on two passages: G 22t~-~ (M 241-242), and G 522*t-=. [37] 38 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY The upshot of Abailard's insight is that universality pertains to the interpretation of signs: the effort to locate universal things is misguided. Some want to say that the universal is a collection; but do collections signify their members? ~ Some want to say that the universal is a substance of which individuals are accidents; but is a substance predicated of its accidents? e And some want to say that universals are words--that is noises; but noises are also individual things. ~ In short, to signify or to show ("monstrare") pertains to words; to be signified or shown pertains to things. 8 And to transfer the properties of one to the other leads to hopeless difficulties. ~ One can understand Abailard's exultation (and exaltation) at having shown both sides of a seething controversy to be equally misguided? ~ But what then remains as the problem of universals? It is this: one would expect that every sign would have some subject which it signifies; but universals seem to lack a proper subject. And does this not mean that universals are fictions (like goat-stag or chimera)? = Having thus set out rather baldly what I take to be Abailard's "clear idea," let me now try to show more fully how he goes about establishing the problem and providing for a solution. Abailard's position on universals is set forth in his two logic books, both of which begin... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Whoa! JOHN SHOPTAW ONE A young man with gold hair in a coal-black robe and slippers was off to confront the Sun. But as he paced the hotel corridors, Ray could feel his step losing its jaunt. At this rate, he’d make it to nowhere in nothing flat. Just then, he noticed his old wall map thumbtacked over some double doors. How’d his Boys’ Life get out here? (...) He looked it over, the big fat world, cut open and stretched flat, like an elephant hide. The properties were green, purple and red, and the waters whitish blue. The Mercator-projected bottom was jagged with ice. The whole place was crawling with letters, like ants on a cake. The best part was the creatures: a long-armed squid suctioning a whale, sea lions sunning themselves. No. Seals. He bunched his brows. No. Hills. And game big as states, as nations: hippos in Africa’s watering holes, a beauty of a cheetah, its sights trained. Untacking and folding the map, Ray tucked it into his pocket and slid open the doors. He found himself in a dim cavern facing a motionless escalator. Its stairs were gold-plated, its balustrades brushed aluminum and its handrails hand-rubbed ostrich skin. He could see no end of stairs. It must be arion 27.1 spring/summer 2019 one unbroken flight to the Sun’s penthouse. But where was the down escalator? Beats him. He planted his slippers and clasped the rails. With a little lurch the escalator began its quickening glide. Now this was first-class. No huffing required. Simply the assumption of an attitude. Up ahead, the horizon gleamed ivory. 2 whoa! TWO The stairway teeth clamped shut and Ray was thrown into a hard glare. Sunblock and goggles— they’ll let you look into things—on your right, came a voice positively sunny. Ray slathered and goggled himself, and beheld by a high stone robed in emerald moss a trim figure in a sea-snail-purple sweatsuit and a broad-brimmed straw hat puttering about a humid sundial of wide-waking annuals and perennials— snowdrops, crocuses, daisies and daylilies, rice in flower and maize in silk, woozy jasmine and heady grapevines, a temperamental winter daphne, and tall in the motley midst the polar gnomon, an Indian turnsole or heliotrope, sweeping its shaft of shadow from one to the next minute marigold dot as the ambling photosynthesizer passed the fragrant hours of the zodiac. Batting away hummingbirds and honeybees, Ray waded through the flower bed toward Sol. Am I your heir? Can I have what I want? Sure, kid, name it. Ray glanced toward the honey-scented manure. A joyride? Sol sighed. It’s your funeral. Taking his time, he led Ray out to the dayport. What a letdown! Ray’d expected a futuristic heliumpowered sports coupe, or at least a souped-up solar Mustang. Not this gold-rimmed, pyrite-axled backward half-bucket with footpads! John Shoptaw 3 Dawn, meanwhile, with her practiced blush arched her horizon, and her pomegranate interiors yawned wide. The stars dispersed. Venus, her shell-blue and egg-white gauzes aswirl, gave Dawn a last long look above her handmirror’s crescent rim. Sol was watching moonshine evanesce from his glowing barndoors, which cracked in a spewing welding arc and then opened wide to reveal a dozen prompt and close-cropped Hours, coaxing a team of four mammoth pegasi yoked neck and neck and neck and neck, stoked with thick ambrosial plasma and snorting flame. As the nymphs hitched the tack to the chariot pole, the Sun, shaking his head, untied his flaring sunhat and knotted it under Ray’s chin. Lay off the whip and draw rein with a firm hand. They’ll fly by themselves with no help from you. But they’ll answer to Clover, Crocus, Peony, Sage. Steer clear of the straightaway. Bank the rig into a circumbendibus. But don’t, whatever you do... But Ray’s attention had drifted. The rampant quadrupeds hooved trails of sparks down the dayport door, their heavy fog blankets slid off, and they shook out their shoulder-wings. A pliant breeze sprang up from the East... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:John P. Sisk DOCTOR JOHNSON KICKS A STONE Readers OF Boswell's Life ofJohnson will remember the great Doctor's refutation of Bishop Berkeley's idealism. He and Boswell had just come out of a church in Harwich and were discussing the Bishop's "ingenious sophistry to prove the nonexistence of matter." Boswell observed "that though we are satisfied his doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it." To mis (...) Johnson responded, "striking his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded from it, T refute it thus.'" For Boswell diis was an argument from first principles diat are as fundamental to metaphysics as axioms are to mathematics. To use Johnson's own phrase, it is an argument based on "the experience of mankind" — the ground upon which he confidendy stood when he expressed his disapproval of such other phUosophical contemporaries as Hume, Voltaire, and Rousseau (the latter "a rascal who ought to be hunted out of society"). Or as WalterJackson Bate puts it in TheAchievement ofSamuelJohnson, the first principle ofhis thinking was "To go back to the living and concrete nature of experience."1 Boswell thought Johnson a philosopher, though he admits in a famous passage that his table manners might have suggested otherwise. Apparently G. K. Chesterton thought he had some claim to the term, for he called Johnson's novel Rasselas "a sort of philosophical satire on philosophy." Most likelyJohnson thought ofhimselfas among many other things a philosopher: the humanities had not yet setded snugly into dieir modern compartments. Now, of course, any undergraduate student of philosophy is willing to believe that Johnson's argument against Berkeley isn't worth much (he may be no less willing to believe that the Bishop's argument isn't worth much eitiier). He may also know that in the perspective of die modern physicist Johnson's stone was not as solid as Johnson thought it was — though it is likely he would have thought diis information 65 66Philosophy and Literature no more relevant to die argument dian Thaïes' belief diat all diings are made of water or Pydiagoras' diat all diings are numbers. The important thing was whether a drinker violated die experience of mankind. When the Scotchman Lord Hunderland praised the ancient philosophers for the candor and good humor widi which they disputed with one anotherJohnson would have none of it: "They disputed with good humour upon dieir fanciful dieories," he said, "because diey were not interested in the truth of them." It is not hard to imagine the Doctor's reaction to our own fanciful theories in philosophy, linguistics, and literary criticism. Suppose him at the Mitre Tavern for an evening's defense of die experience of mankind against die ingenious sophistries of a company made up ofJacques Derrida, Geoffrey H. Hartman, Stanley Fish, Michel Foucault, Paul de Man, and Jacques Lacan — the lot of them variously committed to the belief diat the proper job of philosophy is not the pursuit of the truth but the pursuit of die trudi about die pursuit of die truth. Johnson eyes die group warily, expecting the worst. There are too many Frenchmen present, and as he made clear at supper one July evening in the Turk's Head coffee house, French writers are superficial "because they are not scholars, and so proceed upon the mere power of dieir own minds." Nevertheless, the assembled gendemen present their positions: we are all prisoners ofthe total epistemological environment of our age, our episteme; locked linguistically into interpretive communities, we cannot know die text in itself; die proper function of the critic is creative free play, the text being merely a convenient occasion; language, being self-referential, cannot reveal a subject; human agency is a flattering but deceptive myth; transcendent systems of thought are impossible; if literature touches reality anywhere we cannot know it. MeanwhileJohnson, than whom no man ever had "a more ardent love of literature, or a higher respect for it," is in high dudgeon, kicking figurative stones right and left, no real ones being available inside the Mitre. His adversaries observe him with indulgent good humor, amused but not impressed with this crude bourgeois display, having... (shrink)

More than any other philosopher except Descartes, Locke has seemed a man without an intellectual environment. Yolton's monograph performs the important task of shedding light into this corner of the history of ideas. By his perceptive selection of passages from Locke's contemporaries, Yolton makes clear the context of theological and philosophical debate into which the Essay must be fitted. And in the course of his investigations into the doctrine of innate ideas and the epistemological and religious scepticism its denial seemed (...) to entail, he reveals an interesting side of Locke's character and the character of his opponents and allies. --R. T. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Whisper Before You GoJohn K PettyDavid came with a bang.1A momentary prelude from a dysphonic chorus of pagers announce “Level 1 Pediatric Trauma—MVC ejected” before the abrupt crescendo of the trauma bay doors opening. He is maybe two. Maybe three–years–old. It is hard to tell when a child is strapped in, strapped down, nonverbal, intubated, and alone.The flight team speaks for him, “Four–year–old boy improperly restrained in a single–vehicle (...) crash into a ditch. He was partially ejected. He was unresponsive and pulseless at the scene. He got CPR and code drugs, and they got a pulse back. Emergency medical service (EMS) took him to the nearest hospital where they needled his chest, called for air transport, and scanned him up. He has been shocky for us since we picked him up. Glasgow Coma Scale (GCS) has been three the whole time. They said his head scan showed subarachnoid hemorrhage.”With the words of the flight team as background narrative, we get about doing our thing—hopefully more method and less madness. Bang, bang, bang! Check the tube. Vital signs. IV fluids. Place a chest tube. Hang the blood. Quick X–ray. Neuro exam—nothing. Get him off the board. Warm him up. Place the orogastric (OG) tube. Bang, bang, bang!The neurosurgery resident opens the CT scans from the other hospital. The brain and cervical spine scans show a disaster: some swelling and bleeding in the higher brain, but the worst damage is in the lower brain, brainstem, and top of the spinal cord. I have heard a neurosurgeon describe this pattern before as “internal decapitation.” Such language never makes it into the patient’s chart. For David the last two words of the neurosurgery consult note will eventually read, “Prognosis grim.”He remains unstable in the trauma bay. Inaction is death. We ultrasound his heart, abdomen, and pelvis. He has fluid that shouldn’t be around his heart. He is dying of the neuro injury we cannot control, but the pericardial fluid might be giving him shock, and we can control that. We can’t ignore the fluid. Shouldn’t ignore it. At least, wouldn’t ignore it. So, we bang up to the operating room. Squeezing blood. Spiking fluid. Oxygen tank and crash cart. Up we go.In the operating room, we do much and we do well. We release the fluid around the heart and find it was CPR, not heart injury that put it there. In the pericardial flash we get a view of the cardiac athlete, pounding like the 26th mile of the marathon. We explore the abdomen and find it swollen but innocent of an injury that would take his life. We place our lines and tubes as the neurosurgeons place theirs. If nothing else, we will be able to measure what lies ahead.“Good work, team,” and we bump the door on the way to the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU).The care in the PICU is more Apache brave than Gaelic knight—more bottles, fewer scissors. The curtains and carpets mute the tones. Our efforts continue, but I get a word that David’s father has arrived. He is sitting in a small, private waiting room off of the main PICU waiting room. The PICU staff colloquially refer to this as “the bad news room.” I take a seat next to a solitary man who is having the worst day of his life. His worst day so far.“I am Dr. Petty, and I am one of the doctors who is taking care of your son. I am very sorry about what has happened. Maybe you can tell me a little bit about what you understand is going on, and I’ll tell you what I know.” [End Page 17]He tells me that his wife was driving David back from her sister’s house, just the two of them. He doesn’t know what happened, but he got a call from the other hospital about the crash. His wife was badly hurt. He heard that David had died, but they got him back. Both were transferred up to the... (shrink)

It is a dreadful thing to see men, especially in public life, parade the superiority of their moral choice. It is dreadful because it leaves one helpless. One knows one can’t differ with them on the basis named, namely a choice of good over evil. You can talk to a man who chooses IBM for a rise in the market, but not to a man who chooses right or wrong, or says he does. Discourse collapses.