This article explores the category of biopolitics through the use Roberto Esposito and Giorgio Agamben make of two Greek words, bios and ōē. In particular, I argue that the separation of bios and ōē as introduced in Homo Sacer has no "natural" nor "lingual" relevance. The exposition of such a fabulous antinomy simply ruins the historical matter of Agamben's discourse on biopolitics. Here, Esposito's research could be read as an attempt to found the category of biopolitics anew without repeating the (...) fiction of a bifurcation between ōē and bios. However, Esposito, in his own celebration of biopower, undermines the very power of language and, thus, ignores the variation of the invariant that is history. Esposito's and Agamben's difficulties lead us back to the possible ambition of all politics to absorb all life, as it was already expressed by Aristotle. In this sense, "modern biopolitics" becomes a case study for the totalitarian temptation of political order. (shrink)

The platonic Love [Eros]; a matter that raised and keeps raising still thoughts and talks; a crucial matter for Plato himself. But what really is it? To whom or what does it turn to; What is this that it intends for? Guided by Plato’s work itself, and especially by Symposium and the first part of the extensive Phaidros, I intend to bring to the surface the most crucial views of platonic Love. Through the successive speeches in Symposium; through the many (...) encomiums made by each and everyone of Socrates speakers, in the end, the philosopher does not simply speak about Love, but he discloses it. Same goes in Phaidros; had the speech contests taken place between Socrates and Lysias, the philosopher, had his face uncovered – through his first speech Socrates had his face covered in order not to commit hubris –, tergiversates and reveals that furious state to its whole. Three will be the main points the following paper will try to expound: i) What is the so named platonic Love? ii) What does the lover desire to conquer? iii) How does Plato speaks to us about it through his work? (shrink)

This is a collection of twenty-seven essays written by its author between 1962 and 1989 on topics in the history of science, the philosophy of science, and "the relevance of scientific practice to other parts of philosophy and culture". Twenty-one have been previously published, the remainder hitherto aired only as public presentations. The papers are gathered under six section-headings, including "Explanation," "Hume's Problem," "Logic and Causality," "Machines and Practices," "Scientific Knowledge--Its Scope and Limits," and "Science and Subjectivity"; yet their actual (...) range is both more diverse and less in keeping with prevailing currents in the philosophy of science than these tidily familiar rubrics suggest. "Explanation," for example, flirts with mainstream subject-matter in a much deserved encomium to Hempel's contributions in philosophy of science that reaches beyond the titular subject to the whole of Hempel's work. The section also embraces a discussion of General Systems Theory that distinguishes a doctrinaire, a prioristic approach to the study of science from a pragmatic-pluralistic version, urging the ills of the former and the virtues of the latter. It culminates in two presentations of the view that the theory of evolution rests on "circumstantial evidence" only as it involves the "logical fallacy" of "the inference of causes from effects" : the one is a historical piece on the little-known nineteenth-century naturalist, Phillip Henry Gosse, highlighting his creationistic "Omphalos" theory of the origins of biological species and the fossil record; the other is a short treatment of some conceptual issues involved in the creationist controversy. If the remaining five sections are not so heterogeneous in the scatter of subjects on which their articles touch, they are for the most part more idiosyncratic in the issues they address, the questions they raise, and the answers they suggest. Typical are "On Being in the Same Place at the Same Time," an argument for the ultimacy of subjectivity on the basis of relativity theory, and "Truth and Presence," explicating the attempt of Gaston Bachelard to blend science and poetry as complementary aspects of the human imagination. Sometimes they are also eyebrow-raising. "The Paradox of Induction and the Inductive Wager," would "show the impossibility of... logical proof [of the principle of induction]... by locating it among the paradoxes". Caw's case for paradox is simply that if inductive inference is legitimate then our past inability to justify such inference warrants the inductive conclusion that we shall never be able to justify it. But even if nothing else were suspect in this argument, its force is presumably at most probabilistic, making it hard to see how it could establish the "impossibility" of anything. Another paper, "Three Logics, or the Possibility of the Improbable," concerns "the logic of incredible events", touting the merits of so construing the natural world that events with zero probability occasionally occur and initiate spontaneous causal chains. Yet it is thoroughly unclear what interpretation of probability theory could both license identifying uncaused with impossible events and yet allow that such events may occur. Still another, "Rethinking Intentionality," includes the puzzling contention that "there can't be a science of intention because science presupposes intention". Unlike these last examples, most of the essays in the collection are provocative rather than upsetting, bearing the earmark of the independent, iconoclastic, speculative mind from which they spring, a former physicist not aligned with any of the current schools in philosophy of science, and more influenced by the classic giants of the Western philosophical tradition and by Hegel, Husserl, Heidegger, and Sartre than by empiricist philosophers of science or the recent analytic tradition. Thus, it is no surprise that the issues Caws addresses are nonstandard, and that his manner of addressing them embodies a looser, more broad-stroked, more humanistic, and more metaphysically self-conscious approach than is common in recent mainstream philosophy of science. This orientation doubtless accounts, too, for the somewhat subjective-idealistic stance, the view that one cannot definitively progress beyond one's own sensations and ideas, argued in "Yorick's World or the Universe in a Single Skull," and manifest in the tone, substance, and central thrust of a number of the essays in the collection. It is thus appropriate that Caws should have borrowed from this title to name the anthology itself.-Robert B. Barrett, Washington University in St. Louis. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 44.3 (2006) 467-468 [Access article in PDF] Richard Hunter. Plato's "Symposium". New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. Pp. xiii + 150. Cloth, $40.00. Paper, $14.95. The editors of the series in which Plato's "Symposium" appears state that its constituent texts are to be "essays in criticism and interpretation that will do justice to the subtlety and complexity of the works under discussion" (vi). (...) In the preface, Hunter identifies as his audience "those who have already read or are in the process of reading the Symposium" (ix).Plato's "Symposium" has much to offer to classics students and to the general reader. The book provides useful literary and cultural background regarding the conduct of Greek symposia (5–15). It is filled with valuable interpretive remarks, as for example when Hunter proposes that Alcibiades' depiction of Socrates "as a carved Silenus" instantiates a "common form of sympotic verbal game, the 'likeness'—'Why is X (usually one of the symposiasts) like Y (usually something nonhuman)?'" (5–6). Hunter's rich knowledge of Greek literature pays off in a range of ways, as for instance in his remarks on literary articulations of erôs (16–18). The volume's final chapter, on the history of the dialogue's reception, offers a number of figures and contexts on which to reflect.Hunter makes helpful observations regarding the seriocomic and special features of Plato's recourse to it (9–11), noting that, "in the attack upon the spoudaiogeloion, it is the spoudaiogeloion itself which is the principal weapon" (36). Hunter's orientation in this regard yields nuanced interpretations of the logoi of Pausanias and Eryximachus. Hunter observes helpfully that Aristophanes' encomium functions as "an example of a very familiar aspect of the technique of Aristophanic comedy, namely, the literalization of metaphorical language (as, for example, when 'weighing up' poetry becomes a matter of real weighing in the Frogs)" (65). In Hunter's view, Agathon's contribution, in turn, illustrates Plato's contention in the Gorgias that tragedy is a type of flattery (kolakeia). Drawing on Aristophanes' Women at the Thesmophoria, Hunter makes the useful suggestion that the comic poet's depiction "can... help to explain the extravagance of the Platonic character's speech" (76).While Plato's "Symposium" will also provide valuable background to students of philosophy, on its own the book does not do justice to Socrates' encomium, in particular the crucial "ascent passage" (210a–12a). A key point of contention among philosophical interpreters of the Symposium is whether one is to read the ascent passage as "inclusive" or "exclusive" regarding erôs as directed toward individuals. (For the formulation of the controversy in these terms, see J. M. E. Moravcsik, "Reason and Eros in the 'Ascent'-Passage of the Symposium," in Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy, eds. Anton and Kustas [1971], 293.) The strongly exclusivist stance has had a number of exponents and is most famously associated with Gregory Vlastos (see "The Individual as an Object of Love in Plato," in Platonic Studies, 2nd ed. [1981], 31). For a contrasting view, one may consult, for example, John Brentlinger, according to whom "it does not follow from Plato's claim that we love persons (or anything else) because we believe them to be beautiful and good, that we really love the properties of beauty and goodness per se, and do not really love persons per se" (The "Symposium" of Plato [1970], 122; see also C. J. Rowe, Plato: "Symposium" [1998], 7). Hunter states that the Symposium's "apparent rejection of the value of lasting love between individuals has often seemed to modern readers to present a harshly intellectual view of erôs which ignores basic, [End Page 467] universal facts of human experience and which offers little comfort to all but a Socrates" (98). It will not, I think, be evident to readers not already familiar with pertinent philosophical literature on the ascent to just what interpretive debate this remark is (at most) a glancing gesture.Hunter quotes Symposium 210d, where Plato says that the... (shrink)

Kühn, U. Thomas von Aquin und die evangelische Theologie.--Rahner, K. Über die Unbegreiflichkeit Gottes bei Thomas von Aquin.--Pieper, J. Kreatürlichkeit.--Kluxen, W. Metaphysik und praktische Vernunft.--Oeing-Hanhoff, L. Gotteserkenntnis im Licht der Vernunft und des Glaubens nach Thomas von Aquin.--Zimmermann, A. Der Begriff der Freiheit nach Thomas von Aquin.--Baur, J. Fragen eines evangelischen Theologen an Thomas von Aquin.

ABSTRACT In this brief article, we examine the document entitled Universal Draft Declaration on Bioethics and Human Rights, published by UNESCO in June 2005. We examine it in terms of its content and its appropriate role in global bioethics movements in the future. We make clear our view on the Declaration: the Declaration, despite a variety of serious problems, remains a valuable bioethical document and can contribute in substantial ways to the happiness of people throughout the world.

ABSTRACT In this brief article, we examine the document entitled Universal Draft Declaration on Bioethics and Human Rights, published by UNESCO in June 2005. We examine it in terms of its content and its appropriate role in global bioethics movements in the future. We make clear our view on the Declaration: the Declaration, despite a variety of serious problems, remains a valuable bioethical document and can contribute in substantial ways to the happiness of people throughout the world.

I read Stefan Collini’s What are Universities For? last week with very mixed feelings. In the past, I’ve much admired his polemical essays on the REF, “impact”, the Browne Report, etc. in the London Review of Books and elsewhere: they speak to my heart. If you don’t know those essays, you can get some of their flavour from his latest article in the Guardian yesterday. But I found the book a disappointment. Perhaps the trouble is that Collini is too decent, (...) too high-minded, has too unrealistically exalted a view about what actually happens in universities which is too coloured by attitudes appropriate to the traditional humanities. And he is optimistic to the point of fantasy if he thinks that people are so susceptible to “the romance of ideas and the power of beauty” that they will want, or can be brought to want, lots and lots of universities in order to promote the ideas (as if they would suppose that the task of “conserving, understanding, extending and handing on to subsequent generations the intellectual, scientific, and artistic heritage of mankind” was clearly ill-served when there were only forty universities in England, as opposed to a hundred and whatever). (shrink)