Patrick Olivelle’s two volumes presenting first the four oldest dharmasūtras, in updated and refurbished editions and new translations, and next his critical edition and translation of the Mānavadharmaśāstra are both meticulous works of fundamental scholarship that will stand as the normative forms of these five texts for decades to come. Olivelle’s contributions as an editor in each volume are very different, and these contributions are examined and discussed in some detail, particularly in the case of the critical edition of the (...) Manu, which presents a number of important issues of lower and higher textual criticism. In the case of the sūtra volume, the discussion turns to a general comparison of Olivelle’s translations of the sūtras to Bühler’s and then to a closer examination of Olivelle’s translational policies for the word dharma and two words in particular used by the sūtras to describe the good of doing dharma, kṣema and niḥśreyasa. In the discussion of the edition of Manu, particular attention is given to his assembly, analysis, and presentation of the fifty-three witnesses used for the new edition of the Manu. Following that, there is a discussion of the nature of the tradition that gave rise to the text and used it, a discussion that calls into question some of Olivelle’s basic conclusions about the formation and development of the text of the Manu śāstra. (shrink)

The concept of quantum transition is critically examined from the perspective of the modern quantum theory of measurement. Historically rooted in the famous quantum jump of the Old Quantum Theory, the transition idea survives today in experimental jargon due to (1) the notion of uncontrollable disturbance of a system by measurement operations and (2) the wave-packet reduction hypothesis in several forms. Explicit counterexamples to both (1) and (2) are presented in terms of quantum measurement theory. It is concluded that the (...) idea of transition, or quantum jump, can no longer be rationally comprehended within the framework of contemporary physical theory. (shrink)

Among the old and new controversies over brain death, none is more fundamental than whether brain death is equivalent to the biological phenomenon of human death. Here, I defend this equivalency by offering a brief conceptual justification for this view of brain death, a subject that Andrew Huang and I recently analyzed elsewhere in greater detail. My defense of the concept of brain death has evolved since Bernard Gert, Charles Culver, and I first addressed it in 1981, a development that (...) paralleled advances in intensive care unit treatment. The century‐old concept of the organism as a whole provides the fundamental justification for the equivalency of brain death and human death. In our technological age, in which increasing numbers of components and systems of an organism can be kept alive, and for longer intervals, the permanent cessation of functioning of the organism as a whole is the phenomenon that best corresponds to its death. (shrink)

Hirsch’s revision results from his attempt to think through the difficult question that underlies the whole essay: How does the movement of time and circumstance affect the stability of meaning? The first part of his answer is that the relation between original meaning and subsequent understanding or applications of that meaning is analogous to the relation between a concept and its extension. For example, if he reads Shakespeare’s sonnet 55 and applies it to his beloved, and one of us reads (...) it and applies it to his beloved, “that does not make the meaning of the sonnet different for us, assuming that we both understand that the text’s meaning is not limited to any particular exemplification but rather embraces many, many exemplifications” . That is, the sonnet has a status analogous to that of the concept “bicycle,” and the two applications have a status analogous to that of a three-speed and a ten-speed bicycle. Whereas Hirsch formerly considered such exemplifications part of a text’s significance, he now considers them part of its meaning. This revision indicates that for Hirsch meaning is not the product of a consciousness producing an intrinsic genre but of a consciousness communicating something broader and more general than an intrinsic genre—an intention-concept that can have numerous extensions or exemplifications, including many that the originating consciousness could not have anticipated. Formerly, Hirsch used intrinsic genre to describe that sense of the whole which governed the horizon of developing meaning and which, when the work was completed—when all the blanks were filled in—gave the work its specific determinate meaning. That is, determinacy of meaning was in large part a function of narrowing the class of implications; when the work was completed, the class of implications was restricted to those synonymous with expressed meaning. In short, in the old theory, meaning-intention is a “narrow,” not a broad “concept.” James L. Battersby, professor of English at Ohio State University, is the author of Rational Praise and Natural Lamentation: Johnson, Lycidas, and Principles of Criticism and Elder Olson: An Annotated Bibliography. He is currently at work on a study of the relationship between “thought” and structure in various genres. James Phelan is associate professor English at Ohio State University and the author of Worlds from Words: A Theory of language in Fiction. His work in progress concerns character and narrative progression. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:In Memoriam:Masao Abe (1915–2006)James FredericksProfessor Masao Abe, a pioneer in the international dialogue among Christians and Buddhists, died in Kyoto, Japan, on September 10, 2006. He was 91 years old. Professor Abe was given a quiet funeral service reserved to family and close friends, according to sources in Kyoto.After the death of his mentor D. T. Suzuki, Abe became a leading exponent of Zen in the West and (...) a driving force in the encounter between Buddhism and Christianity. Abe must be credited with much of the intellectual vitality of this dialogue, as well as its relevance to contemporary social problems.Abe was a tireless exponent of the Buddhist doctrine of emptiness as the standpoint for realizing the True Self, yet was also willing to place this basic Buddhist teaching in dialogue with Christianity. Rejecting the notion that Christianity and Buddhism were either fundamentally similar or completely different, Abe saw in interreligious dialogue an opportunity for the mutual transformation of dialogue partners and pursued dialogue to help Buddhists and Christians in confronting the threat of nihilism in the modern world.In the ruins of postwar Japan, Abe began his studies with Hajime Tanabe at the University of Kyoto, a prominent figure in the Kyoto school of contemporary Zen Buddhist philosophy in Japan. But it was his encounter with Shin'ichi Hisamatsu, another philosopher of Zen at the University of Kyoto, that would be decisive for Abe's turn to Zen. In a series of Zen retreats with Hisamatsu at Myoshinji Temple in western Kyoto, Abe was forced to confront the reality of nihilism within himself and eventually resolve this problem by entering the Zen standpoint of emptiness, wherein the enlightened self arises.At age 40, Abe left Kyoto for New York to study at Union Theological Seminary with two of the most prominent Christian theologians of his day, Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr. This encounter began a distinguished career of teaching, writing, and, above all, dialogue with leading Christian thinkers, including David Tracy, Langdon Gilkey, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Jurgen Moltmann, and Hans Kung. Abe served as visiting professor at the University of Chicago, Purdue University, Claremont College, Columbia University, Princeton University, the University of Hawai'i, and other schools. In Germany, [End Page 139] Abe taught at Heidelberg, Tubingen, and Munich. In addition to his many Japanese publications, Abe wrote extensively in English. These works include Zen and Western Thought, an award-winning collection of essays, and a ground-breaking reflection on Christian belief in Christ interpreted from a Buddhist perspective, "Kenotic God and Dynamic Sunyata." This essay appeared in conjunction with responses from several Christian and Jewish theologians, making the book itself a dialogue. Abe also engaged Jewish intellectuals with his Buddhist reflection on the Holocaust.In 1984, Abe and John Cobb convened a group of Buddhist and Christian intellectuals from Japan, North America, and Europe for dialogue in depth over a sustained period of time on a number of fundamental issues. He was also a guiding influence on the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, which continues his work of dialogue today.Masao Abe is survived by his wife Ikuko Abe, his constant companion in a life of sojourn and dialogue in the West. [End Page 140]James FredericksLoyola Marymount UniversityCopyright © 2007 The University of Hawai'i Press... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:In Memoriam:Masao Abe (1915–2006)James FredericksProfessor Masao Abe, a pioneer in the international dialogue among Christians and Buddhists, died in Kyoto, Japan, on September 10, 2006. He was 91 years old. Professor Abe was given a quiet funeral service reserved to family and close friends, according to sources in Kyoto.After the death of his mentor D. T. Suzuki, Abe became a leading exponent of Zen in the West and (...) a driving force in the encounter between Buddhism and Christianity. Abe must be credited with much of the intellectual vitality of this dialogue, as well as its relevance to contemporary social problems.Abe was a tireless exponent of the Buddhist doctrine of emptiness as the standpoint for realizing the True Self, yet was also willing to place this basic Buddhist teaching in dialogue with Christianity. Rejecting the notion that Christianity and Buddhism were either fundamentally similar or completely different, Abe saw in interreligious dialogue an opportunity for the mutual transformation of dialogue partners and pursued dialogue to help Buddhists and Christians in confronting the threat of nihilism in the modern world.In the ruins of postwar Japan, Abe began his studies with Hajime Tanabe at the University of Kyoto, a prominent figure in the Kyoto school of contemporary Zen Buddhist philosophy in Japan. But it was his encounter with Shin'ichi Hisamatsu, another philosopher of Zen at the University of Kyoto, that would be decisive for Abe's turn to Zen. In a series of Zen retreats with Hisamatsu at Myoshinji Temple in western Kyoto, Abe was forced to confront the reality of nihilism within himself and eventually resolve this problem by entering the Zen standpoint of emptiness, wherein the enlightened self arises.At age 40, Abe left Kyoto for New York to study at Union Theological Seminary with two of the most prominent Christian theologians of his day, Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr. This encounter began a distinguished career of teaching, writing, and, above all, dialogue with leading Christian thinkers, including David Tracy, Langdon Gilkey, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Jurgen Moltmann, and Hans Kung. Abe served as visiting professor at the University of Chicago, Purdue University, Claremont College, Columbia University, Princeton University, the University of Hawai'i, and other schools. In Germany, [End Page 139] Abe taught at Heidelberg, Tubingen, and Munich. In addition to his many Japanese publications, Abe wrote extensively in English. These works include Zen and Western Thought, an award-winning collection of essays, and a ground-breaking reflection on Christian belief in Christ interpreted from a Buddhist perspective, "Kenotic God and Dynamic Sunyata." This essay appeared in conjunction with responses from several Christian and Jewish theologians, making the book itself a dialogue. Abe also engaged Jewish intellectuals with his Buddhist reflection on the Holocaust.In 1984, Abe and John Cobb convened a group of Buddhist and Christian intellectuals from Japan, North America, and Europe for dialogue in depth over a sustained period of time on a number of fundamental issues. He was also a guiding influence on the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, which continues his work of dialogue today.Masao Abe is survived by his wife Ikuko Abe, his constant companion in a life of sojourn and dialogue in the West. [End Page 140]James FredericksLoyola Marymount UniversityCopyright © 2007 The University of Hawai'i Press... (shrink)

SummaryThe effects of infant suckling patterns on the post-partum resumption of ovulation and on birth-spacing are investigated among the Gainj of highland New Guinea. Based on hormonal evidence, the median duration of lactational anovulation is 20·4 months, accounting for about 75% of the median interval between live birth and next successful conception. Throughout lactation, suckling episodes are short and frequent, the interval changing slowly over time, from 24 minutes in newborns to 80 minutes in 3-year olds. Maternal serum prolactin (...) concentrations decline in parallel with the changes in suckling patterns, approaching the level observed in non-nursing women by about 24 months post-partum. A path analysis indicates that the interval between suckling episodes is the principal determinant of maternal prolactin concentration, with time since parturition affecting prolactin secretion only in so far as it affects suckling frequency. The extremely prolonged contraceptive effect of breast-feeding in this population thus appears to be due to a slow decline in suckling frequency with time since parturition and absence of a decline over time in hypothalamic–pituitary responsiveness to the suckling stimulus. (shrink)

Mr. F. is a fifty‐year‐old father of two school‐aged daughters. Six years ago, he received a double lung transplant because he was suffering from interstitial lung disease, a fatal illness that causes suffocation by progressive scarring of the lungs. He is now experiencing chronic rejection of the transplant and is being considered to receive another. Without it, he is expected to survive only a year and a half. With it, his prognosis will improve, but the numbers are still not good. (...) Three years after his lung transplant, Mr. F. stopped attending his office visits. For a period of sixteen months he went without the studies and attention essential to posttransplant care. He stopped performing the required daily self‐monitoring of his lung function about eight months after his transplant, but he has maintained a regular exercise regimen. While lost to follow‐up, he continued to take his immunosuppressant medications, but he stopped taking medicine to control his high blood pressure because of its expense. (shrink)

En post-scriptum de la Constitution de la Liberté, Friedrich Hayek situa le coeur de ses convictions où il perçut qu’était leur place dans l’histoire des idées. Il était, il insistait, “simplement un vieux Whig impénitent”, en insistant sur le “vieux”. Le Whiggisme, il venait de le soutenir, était le nom du seul et unique courant de pensée qui s’opposa sérieusement à tout pouvoir arbitraire. En mettant en avant le fait que le “vrai libéralisme” n’avait pas de nom reconnaissable afin de (...) le distinguer du “faux libéralisme”, Hayek suggéra celui de “vieux Whig” – bien qu’il sembla plus proche de sa validité historique que de son utilité dans le monde réel. Cet essai tente d’illustrer ce qu’Hayek voulait dire en s’appelant lui même vieux Whig ou Whig Burkéen, comme il se décrivit plus tard. Il soulève des questions quant à la validité de la conception qu’Hayek avait de lui, et quant à la vraie nature des vieux Whig historiques. Cet article explore le modèle historique créé par Hayek, centré sur l’événement clé de la Révolution Française, pour expliquer ce qu’il appela une “contre-renaissance” en faveur du collectivisme.In is postscript to The Constitution of Liberty, Friedrich Hayek placed his core beliefs into what he perceived as their proper place in the history of ideas. He was, he insisted, ‘simply an unrepentant Old Whig – with the stress on the “old”. Whiggism, he went on to assert, was the name of the only set of ideals that had consistently opposed all arbitrary power. Highlighting the fact that ‘true liberalism’ had no recognisable name with which to distinguish itself from ‘false liberalism’, Hayek tossed ‘Old Whig’ into the ring as his suggestion – though he seemed more confident of its historical validity than its real-world usefulness. This essay attempts to illustrate just what Hayek meant by calling himself an Old Whig, or Burkean Whig, as he later described himself. It raises some questions about the validity of Hayek’s self-conception, and the true nature of the historical Old Whigs. It also explores the historical model that Hayek created, centred on the key event of the French Revolution, to explain what he called a ‘counterrenaissance’ in favour of collectivism. (shrink)

En post-scriptum de la Constitution de la Liberté, Friedrich Hayek situa le coeur de ses convictions où il perçut qu’était leur place dans l’histoire des idées. Il était, il insistait, “simplement un vieux Whig impénitent”, en insistant sur le “vieux”. Le Whiggisme, il venait de le soutenir, était le nom du seul et unique courant de pensée qui s’opposa sérieusement à tout pouvoir arbitraire. En mettant en avant le fait que le “vrai libéralisme” n’avait pas de nom reconnaissable afin de (...) le distinguer du “faux libéralisme”, Hayek suggéra celui de “vieux Whig” – bien qu’il sembla plus proche de sa validité historique que de son utilité dans le monde réel. Cet essai tente d’illustrer ce qu’Hayek voulait dire en s’appelant lui même vieux Whig ou Whig Burkéen, comme il se décrivit plus tard. Il soulève des questions quant à la validité de la conception qu’Hayek avait de lui, et quant à la vraie nature des vieux Whig historiques. Cet article explore le modèle historique créé par Hayek, centré sur l’événement clé de la Révolution Française, pour expliquer ce qu’il appela une “contre-renaissance” en faveur du collectivisme.In is postscript to The Constitution of Liberty, Friedrich Hayek placed his core beliefs into what he perceived as their proper place in the history of ideas. He was, he insisted, ‘simply an unrepentant Old Whig – with the stress on the “old”. Whiggism, he went on to assert, was the name of the only set of ideals that had consistently opposed all arbitrary power. Highlighting the fact that ‘true liberalism’ had no recognisable name with which to distinguish itself from ‘false liberalism’, Hayek tossed ‘Old Whig’ into the ring as his suggestion – though he seemed more confident of its historical validity than its real-world usefulness. This essay attempts to illustrate just what Hayek meant by calling himself an Old Whig, or Burkean Whig, as he later described himself. It raises some questions about the validity of Hayek’s self-conception, and the true nature of the historical Old Whigs. It also explores the historical model that Hayek created, centred on the key event of the French Revolution, to explain what he called a ‘counterrenaissance’ in favour of collectivism. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:History-Writing as Protest: Kingship and the Beginning of Historical Narrative James G. Williams Syracuse University I. Introduction This paper is an attempt to apply René Girard's mimetic theory to the origins of historical writing, specifically the composing ofIsrael's story, vis- à-vis the origin of kingship. What I do not intend to deal with is the exact chronological beginning of historical narrative in ancient Israel. Whether or not this (...) sort of writing began immediately, it is quite clear that kingship is a problem in a way that no other office or role was in the scriptural texts. In the study of Israelite historiography and Israel's understanding of history there are many issues that have been discussed and debated. Among English speaking scholars the works of John Van Seters have been, in recent years, the most widely read on this topic.l Van Seters himself argues that the "Court History" or "Succession Narrative" in 2 Samuel and the Yahwist (J) narrative ofthe Pentateuch, or Torah, which scholars have commonly thought to be the oldest ancient Israelite history works, were composed in the exilic period (after c. 586 B.C.E.) subsequent to the completion of the "Deuteronomic work" (Josh., Judg., Books of Sam., Books of Kings). A Greek model of history writing was by then known and used by the authors of these histories previously and wrongly understood to be so old. However, prior to these historical works influenced by a Greek model was the work ofthe Deuteronomist, i.e., the books ofJoshua through Samuel, which integrated various earlier sources and traditions into a view of Israel's past that was informed by a definite theology ofhistory. This history is that of "the first known historian 1 In his approach to the texts Van Seters does not deal with any of the questions raised in the recent readings and hermeneutic approaches informed by literary theory. 92James G. Williams in Western civilization truly to deserve that designation" (Van Seters, "Search" 362). My purpose is not to argue with most of Van Seters's conclusions. In my judgment he is right to question the thesis of Hermann Gunkel and Gerhard von Rad that history writing evolved from earlier legend (Saga). I likewise agree that although there are many parallels among Israelite, Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and Hittite texts (including divine intervention in history, as shown by Bertil Albrektson), one still does not find among these other peoples a genre that could be called historiography. Van Seters borrows Johan Huizinga 's definition of history as "the intellectual form in which a civilization renders account to itself of its past" ("Search" 1). I think the definition is helpful but it lacks both a generative center and a delimitation of literary form. I propose that it be changed by extending it in two respects: (1) The intellectual form of self-understanding is rooted in the sacred as its primary problematic. In this essay I will try to show that the beginning of history writing in ancient Israel both starts from and attempts to break from the ancient sacred order as mediated through the sacral institution ofkingship. (2) Concerning literary form, history in the sense intended here requires a narrative about a nation and specific individuals (even if the divine and miracles are part of this world) that is long and continuous enough to form a coherent picture ofthe significant past. There was clearly no writing like that prior to Israelite historiography. I think the main problem in Van Seters's approach is that he misses the impulse ofhistory writing. That impulse is kingship. I don't mean this simply in the older sense, going back to L. Rost and Gerhard von Rad, that history writing begins with the cultural efflorescence that emerged in the reign of Solomon (c. 960-922 B.CE.) and used even earlier sources stemming from the period of David's rule (c. 1000-960 B.CE.).2 Kingship was, rather, an office created by the fundamental dynamic of culture, namely the sacred and its mechanisms. What made Israel different, I will argue, is that it established this office, thus becoming "like all the nations," and yet many of its distinctive witnesses... (shrink)

This paper examines the early years of the eighteenth-century scientific periodical Observations sur la physique, sur l'histoire naturelle et sur les arts , or ‘Rozier's Journal’, after François Rozier . Rozier's Journal is seen as a transitional and competing genre for scientific publication directed at shortcomings in the learned society press and in contemporary scientific communications. The evolution of this role is traced as the Journal emerged from the independent press between 1771 and 1773. It is argued that Rozier's Journal, (...) limited to the sciences physiques , marked only a step towards the specialized periodical of the nineteenth century. The professional character of Rozier's intended audience is suggested, and Rozier's unexpectedly close ties to the scientific societies are explored. The Journal is seen to be part of both the old and the new, a unique case in the ancien régime press. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:FATALISM AND TRUTH ABOUT THE FUTURE }AMES w. FELT, S.J. Santa Clara University Santa Clara, California WHEN WE SPEAK of future events, does today's ruth mean tomorrow's necessity? The question is as old as Aristotle's sea battle tomorrow. The last ships should have been sunk long ago, but after two thousand years the textual analysis of this passage is still controverted. Yet I think something new can be said (...) about it if we consider afresh the philosophic issues themselves. What philosophic consequences must we accept if we suppose that predictions, that is, propositions referring to future events, are either true or false antecedently to the events themselves? In particular, if a prediction be true now, does its present truth imply a fixity inherent in the future such that fatalism is unavoidable? 1 It has been argued that it does. Aristotle sketched such an argument in the sea battle passage already alluded to:... [If anything] is white now it was true to say earlier that it would be white; so that it was always true to say of anything that has happened that it would be so. But if it was always true to say that it was so, or would be so, it could not not be so, or not be going to be so. But if something cannot not happen it is impossible for it not to happen; and if it is impossible for something not to happen it is necessary for it to happen. Everything that will be, therefore, happens necessarily. So nothing will come about as chance has it or by chance; for if by chance, not of necessity.2 1 Whether it makes any sense to speak of a proposition as true " now " or at any other time will be considered below. 2 De Interpretatione (trans. J. L. Ackrill; Oxford University Press: 1963), ch. 9, 18b9 ff. 209 210 JAMES W. FELT, S.J. If, then, a prediction is true in the present or false in the present, its very truth value today seems to create an ineluctable fixity upon tomorrow's event such that fatalism would be unavoidable. And as is implied in Aristotle's example, it seems natural to suppose that a prediction must, after all, be either true or, if not true, then false. Does not the law of excluded middle demand this? Thus the logic of truth relations seems to impose a fatalistic view of events. Indeed, fatalism is sometimes defined precisely in terms of logic, so that a contemporary author writes : " Fatalism is the thesis that the laws of logic alone suffice to prove that no man has free will, suffice to prove that the only actions which a man can perform are the actions which he does, in fact, perform, and suffice to prove that a man can bring about only those events which do, in fact, occur and can prevent only those events which do not, in fact, occur." 3 I shall, however, argue that ( 1) neither the law of excluded middle nor any other logical consideration requires that predictions be true or else false when they are asserted; (2) the antecedent truth (or falsity) of predictions would not necessitate fatalism by reason of any logical considerations, (3) though it could necessitate fatalism for causal reasons; and (4) predictions are never, absolutely speaking, true or false before the occurrence of the events to which they refer, though they may be true or false in an attenuated, relative sense. Thesis 1: Neither the law of excluded middle nor any other logical consideration requires that a prediction be, prior to the event, true or, if not true, then false. I understand the law of excluded middle (LEM) to mean that, for any meaningful proposition p, it is (logically) necessary that p be true or, if not true, then false. By ordinary usage a proposition referring to a state of affairs in the world, as distinguished from one referring to logical re3 Steven M. Cahn. Fate, Logic, and Time (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1967), p. 8. FATALISM AND TRUTH ABOUT THE FUTURE 211 lationships, is called ' true' if and only if that state of affairs obtains. The... (shrink)

Authority in Morals: An Essay in Christian Ethics. By Gerard J. Hughes On Human Nature. By Edward O. Wilson Democracy and Ethical Life. By Claes G. Ryn The Foundations of Modern Political Thought. By Quentin Skinner. 2 vols. Phenomenology and the Social World: the Philosophy of Merleau‐Ponty and its Relation to the Social Conscience. By Laurie Spurting Philosophical Foundations of the Three Sociologies. By Ted Benton Christianity and the World Order. By Edward Norman. Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1979, £3.50. The (...) Stoics. Edited by John M. Rist Descartes. By Margaret D. Wilson Physicalism. By K.V. Wilkes Kierkegaard as Educator. By R.J. Manheimer Two Ages: The Age of Revolution and the Present Age. By Søren Kierkegaard, translated and edited by Howard and Edna Hong Parables of Kierkegaard. Edited by Thomas C. Oden Thomas Carlyle: ‘Cahinist without the Theology’. By Eloise M. Behnken The Praise of 'Sons of Bitches’. By James V. Schall The Inner Eye of Love. By William Johnston The River Within. By Christopher Bryant The Religious Imagination and the Sense of God. By John Bowker Old Testament Theology: A Fresh Approach. By Ronald E. Clements What is a Gospel? By Charles H. Talbert Urchristliche Prophetic. By Gerhard Dautzenberg Amphttochii Icontensis Opera. Edited by Cornells Datema Man and Nature in the Renaissance. By Allen G. Debus The Church in Late Victorian Scotland 1874–1900. By Andrew L. Drummond and James Bullock. Ppix, 342, Edinburgh, The St Andrew Press, 1978, £10.50. From Office to Profession: The New England Ministry 1750–1860. By Donald M. Scott Bemard‐Lazare: Anti‐Semitism and the Problem of Jewish Identity in Late Nineteenth Century France. By Nelly Wilson. (shrink)

This collection of essays is a sequel to the editors' 1976 volume Studies in Nietzsche and the Classical Tradition. Philosophers, theologians, and literary historians discuss important aspects of Nietzsche's attack on Judaism and Christianity. The book contains studies of his view of biblical figures, Luther and Pascal as well as comparisons of his thought with that of Spinoza, Lessing, Heine, and Kierkegaard. Nietzsche's critique of the Old Testament, the Jewish religion of the diaspora, and historical Christianity are also investigated. Of (...) the eighteen articles included here, thirteen were prepared expressly for this volume--five were translated from German, one from French, and one from Hebrew. Contributors to this volume are: Eugen Biser, Harry Neumann, Israel Eldad, Charles Lewis, Jorg Salaquarda, Joan Stambaugh, Max L. Baeumer, Brendan Donellan, Diana Behler, Sander L. Gilman, Gerd-Gunther Grau, Josef Simon, James C. O'Flaherty, Bernd Magnus, Georges Goedert, Hans Lung, and Karl Barth. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Back to the Nineteenth Century Is ProgressJeffrey L. Geller (bio)Keywordshistory, monomania, impulse control disorders, DSMJohn Sadler Eloquently Makes the case that the phenomena of criminality, wrongful conduct, and mental illness are befuddled in current diagnostic manuals, for example, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM)-IV-TR. The lack of clarity in the “vice–mental disorder relationship” reflects centuries old struggles to create clear demarcations between “mad” and “bad.” Sadler points out that (...) the DSMs have been and are both the products of historical, cultural, and social forces and the purveyors of defining boundaries that shape contemporary psychiatric and judicial practices. Sadler does American psychiatry a great service by resurrecting a discussion that was quite rich in the nineteenth century, but generally dormant in the twentieth. I thought I could best use this commentary by bringing to the attention the readers of Philosophy, Psychiatry & Psychology the scope of the debate amongst Sadler’s nineteenth-century predecessors.Sadler’s PredecessorsPhilippe Pinel, who presented the first clear modern description of the form of mental illness subsequently named moral insanity appeared well aware, in the early years of the nineteenth century, of the difficulties there would be accepting the concept of a limited or partial moral mania:There are certain rare examples of a peculiar turbulent and embittered character, who otherwise show no evidence of disturbed reason. Ought they to be included under the heading of “mania without delirium?” At any rate the authorities have preferred to have them admitted to asylums rather than let them mix with delinquents in houses of correction.(As cited by Walk 1954, 821)James Cowles Prichard, a British physician, is credited with “inventing” the term moral insanity, which he defined as “a morbid perversion of the feelings, affections, and active powers, without any illusion or erroneous conviction impressed upon the understanding” (Prichard 1837, 20; 1842). Prichard warned against the failure to recognize this form of insanity, illustrating his point with what we might now refer to as pyromania:Many lunatics, whose disorder was merely a destructive propensity, have set fire to houses or public buildings, and it is not to be doubted that men have been occasionally executed as criminals for such actions, who, if they had been kept in confinement, would have proved to be insane. Until the existence of moral insanity is distinctly recognized, there will always be a danger of this event ensuing in the trials of mischievous lunatics.(Prichard 1837, 287)Prichard referred to such acts as “instinctive madness” (Prichard 1842). [End Page 19]Isaac Ray, the first American to specifically address these matters (in the first edition of his Treatise on The Medical Jurisprudence of Insanity (1838), defined “partial moral mania,” indicating that, “In this form of insanity, the derangement is confined to one or a few of the affective faculties, the rest of the moral and intellectual constitution preserving its ordinary integrity” (p. 186). Ray highlighted those partial moral mania he considered to “have the most important legal relations” (p. 187): “an irresistible propensity to steal,” “an inordinate propensity to lying,” “erotic mania,” “a morbid propensity to incendiarism,” and “homicidal insanity” or “homicidal monomania” (pp. 187–234). Ray cogently described what we would categorize today as an impulse disorder: “Amid the rapid and tumultuous succession of feelings that rush into his mind, the reflective powers are paralyzed, and his movements are solely the result of a blind, automatic impulse with which the reason has as little to do, as with the movements of a newborn infant” (p. 261). Ray believed these monomanias “completely annulled... all moral responsibility for acts committed under their influence,” and consequently “the laws can rightfully inflict no punishment on their unfortunate subjects” (p. 276).Ray, like his European predecessors, was not insensitive to the conundrum these partial moral manias would likely produce:True, cases of a disputable character sometimes occur—cases in which we may well doubt whether the active principle is depravity or disease. I have no wish to conceal any difficulty which this subject may present(Ray 1861, 120).The English translation of Esquirol’s treatise in 1854 supported Ray’s views. In a lengthy chapter on the different forms of... (shrink)

This collection, with an agreeable proportion of new material and a sensible selection of old, is worth the money and ought to be on the shelf of anyone interested in recent work on language by philosophers, psychologists, and linguists. The section by linguists proper is the longer and more up to date but this seems quite in order: today neither work in philosophy nor psychology can provide a plausible center-of-attention that will take in the other and linguistics as flanking material. (...) For better and worse linguistics is the centerpiece: and the debate between "interpretive" and "generative" semanticists, here respectively represented by Chomsky and George Lakoff, is the center, most likely, of the centerpiece. The generative semanticists suggest that the base and semantic components ultimately come to the same: the distinction between syntactic rules and semantic rules is presumed as in the Chomskian position but it is thought that the algorithm of wellformedness will turn out to provide all the rules needed for semantic interpretation. The interpretive semantic alternative, here argued by Chomsky in a paper otherwise difficult to obtain except in mimeo, distinguishes semantic from base component by insisting, particularly in matters respecting reference and quantification, that transformations are not meaning-invariant, and that, hence, the semantic component is fed by both the base and surface structures independently. To put the interpretive view in terms of Tarski-cum-Davidsonian biconditionals, we would no longer have on the left side of the biconditional one ’structural-descriptive’ string but rather two separate strings, one surface and the other deep, that would jointly and independently determine meaning. The generative semanticists, following James McCawley, stress that their argument against autonomous deep syntax follows in form Morris Halle’s well-known argument against a phonemic level of description supposed intermediate between superficial surface syntax and systematic phonetics. The basic question one raises against this argument is whether logico-semantic form constitutes itself for linguistic science as one level of description and as an essentially linguistic level of description. One can see an obvious place for philosophers in these arguments, though one finds in this volume very little suggestion of philosophical-semantic work, in the Frege-Carnap tradition, that Donald Davidson, Richard Montague, John Wallace, etc., have been carrying on lately. There is a previously unpublished paper by David Wiggins in this vein, but though Wiggins is his usual brilliant and playfully convoluted self, this is too idiosyncratic and occasional a piece to represent what is by way of a movement. Indeed, aside from the Wiggins-Alston material, the philosopher’s section is solid but familiar material: H. P. Grice’s famous paper on meaning and Paul Ziff’s criticism of Grice’s theory; Gilbert Harman’s "Three Levels of Meaning"; late-1960s papers by Donnellan, Linsky, Quine, Strawson, Vendler, and Searle on reference. But this aside this volume vividly makes the point that philosophy and linguistics have never been more entangled with each other in a genuine working relationship. Chomsky’s arguments come in part from recent philosopher’s work. There is evident concern by linguists with presuppositions and performatives. "Fact," an important and not easily available paper by Paul and Carol Kilparski, sparks the philosophic imagination—as do new pieces on lexical entries, semantic features, and categories by Charles Fillmore, Manfried Bierwisch, and others. Almost enough to justify J. L. Austin’s hopes for a joint endeavor of linguists, philosophers, and psychologists: one sees in the footnotes and bibliographies, in the issue and vocabulary, that disciplines are joining and reflecting upon each other in day-to-day work. The psychology section also contains one large new piece: a splendidly energetic defense of linguistic behaviorism by Charles Osgood. One finds balance for this in Jerry Fodor’s "Could meaning be an rm?" And some good, current, and often not easily available material by George Miller, Eric Lennberg, and others. The "overviews" for the various sections are quite distinguished themselves: but this is only in keeping with general character of this reader.—J. L. (shrink)

James is a seventy‐two‐year‐old man with end‐stage dementia who was transferred from another hospital. At the time of transfer James had sepsis from two multidrug‐resistant organisms, respiratory failure requiring ventilatory support, renal insufficiency, pancytopenia, and hypotension requiring vasopressors. He has severe contractures and foot drop, has a feeding tube, and has been nonverbal for several months. His son, Paul, is requesting full code and treatment focused on recovery despite James's extremely poor prognosis.Paul is James's only child, (...) and James's wife is deceased. Paul says he has the “gift of prophecy” and knows for certain when God is speaking to him. “God,” he says, “doesn't lie.” He says that he and his father spent years preaching together and have witnessed many healings. He believes that they are being “rebuked” because at a time when his father was too tired to travel much, they held fewer revivals and did not save enough souls.James's condition has worsened slowly. He has almost no urine output and does not breathe over the ventilator. He is extremely volume overloaded; his toenails have bloodied and popped off. By hospital‐day twenty‐one, he had only corneal reflexes. The medical team is troubled; if James is to stay on the ventilator, he will need a tracheostomy, but this would only further prolong what has already been an agonizingly prolonged dying process.Paul continues to pray for his father to get up. (shrink)

The distinction between the "permanent" (will not reverse) and "irreversible" (cannot reverse) cessation of functions is critical to understand the meaning of a determination of death using circulatory–respiratory tests. Physicians determining death test only for the permanent cessation of circulation and respiration because they know that irreversible cessation follows rapidly and inevitably once circulation no longer will restore itself spontaneously and will not be restored medically. Although most statutes of death stipulate irreversible cessation of circulatory and respiratory functions, the accepted (...) medical standard is their permanent cessation because permanence is a perfect surrogate indicator for irreversibility, and using it permits a more timely declaration. Therefore, patients properly declared dead in donation after circulatory death (DCD) protocols satisfy the requirements of death statutes and do not violate the dead donor rule. The acronym DCD should represent organ "donation after circulatory death" to clarify that the death standard is the permanent cessation of circulation, not heartbeat. Heart donation in DCD does not retroactively negate the donor's death determination because circulation has ceased permanently. (shrink)

“Brain death,” the determination of human death by showing the irreversible loss of all clinical functions of the brain, has become a worldwide practice. A biophilosophical account of brain death requires four sequential tasks: agreeing on the paradigm of death, a set of preconditions that frame the discussion; determining the definition of death by making explicit the consensual concept of death; determining the criterion of death that proves the definition has been fulfilled by being both necessary and sufficient for death; (...) and determining the tests of death for physicians to employ at the patient's bedside to demonstrate that the criterion of death has been fulfilled. The best definition of death is “the cessation of functioning of the organism as a whole.” The whole-brain criterion is the only criterion that is both necessary and sufficient for death. Brain death tests are used only in the unusual case in which a patient's ventilation is being supported. Brain death critics have identified weaknesses in its formulation. But despite its shortcomings, the whole-brain death formulation comprises a concept and public policy that make intuitive and practical sense and that has been well accepted by many societies. (shrink)

The concept of whole‐brain death is under attack again. Scholars are arguing that the concept of brain death per se—regardless of the focus on “higher,” “stem” or “whole”—is fundamentally flawed. These scholars have identified what they believe are serious discrepancies between the definition and criterion of brain death, and have pointed out that medical professionals and lay persons remain confused about its meaning. Yet whole‐brain death remains the standard for determining death in much of the Western world and its defenders (...) believe this concept best maps onto our everyday conception of death. (shrink)

The definition of death is one of the oldest and most enduring problems in biophilosophy and bioethics. Serious controversies over formally defining death began with the invention of the positive-pressure mechanical ventilator in the 1950s. For the first time, physicians could maintain ventilation and, hence, circulation on patients who had sustained what had been previously lethal brain damage. Prior to the development of mechanical ventilators, brain injuries severe enough to induce apnea quickly progressed to cardiac arrest from hypoxemia. Before the (...) 1950s, the loss of spontaneous breathing and heartbeat were perfect predictors of death because the functioning of the brain and of all other organs ceased rapidly and nearly simultaneously thereafter, producing a unitary death phenomenon. In the pretechnological era, physicians and philosophers did not have to consider whether a human being who had lost certain “vital functions” but had retained others was alive, because such cases were technically impossible. (shrink)

The study of human intelligence was once dominated by symbolic approaches, but over the last 30 years an alternative approach has arisen. Symbols and processes that operate on them are often seen today as approximate characterizations of the emergent consequences of sub- or nonsymbolic processes, and a wide range of constructs in cognitive science can be understood as emergents. These include representational constructs (units, structures, rules), architectural constructs (central executive, declarative memory), and developmental processes and outcomes (stages, sensitive periods, neurocognitive (...) modules, developmental disorders). The greatest achievements of human cognition may be largely emergent phenomena. It remains a challenge for the future to learn more about how these greatest achievements arise and to emulate them in artificial systems. (shrink)

In this interview, James L. McClelland responds to questions regarding connectionist models of cognition, a theory inspired by information processing in the brain. McClelland explains the distinction between symbolic and non-symbolic processing for a better understanding of mental processes. He argues that connectionist models can perform the computations which we know the brain can perform. In addition, he responds to several general questions on the perspectives of computational models of cognition.

Scepticism about ought simpliciter is the view that there is no such thing as what one ought simpliciter to do. Instead, practical deliberation is governed by a plurality of normative standpoints, each authoritative from their own perspective but none authoritative simpliciter. This paper aims to resist such scepticism. After setting out the challenge in general terms, I argue that scepticism can be resisted by rejecting a key assumption in the sceptic’s argument. This is the assumption that standpoint-relative ought judgments bring (...) with them a commitment to act in accordance with those judgments. Instead, I propose an alternative account of our normative concepts according to which only ought simpliciter judgments commit one to acting in accordance with those judgments. In addition to answering the sceptical challenge, the proposal offers an independently motivated account of what makes a concept normatively authoritative. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 35.2 (2002) 138-152 [Access article in PDF] Respecting the Rupture: Not Solving the Problem of Unity in Plato's Phaedrus James L. Kastely Plato's Phaedrus is a particularly instructive example of the double nature and status of rhetoric, for it embodies a tension at the heart of rhetoric. The first half of the dialogue presents three examples of rhetorical practice, while the second develops a theoretical (...) justification of rhetoric as an art. Thus, the dialogue would seem to offer a productive negotiation of the practice/theory tension. What makes the dialogue interesting, however, is the fact that this negotiation does not occur. The dialogue does not bring theory and practice into a harmonious relation, for there is a troubling discontinuity between its two halves, and rhetorical practice feels fractured. The exploration of eros that had occupied the first half of the dialogue is abandoned before the beginning of the second half, and then, following a logic that is at best associational, Socrates and Phaedrus explore the standards that should govern the practice of rhetoric. The infelicity of this transition raises a question: why did Plato structure the Phaedrus in such a way that it emphasized the dissonance between the two halves of the dialogue? To pose the question this way, however, is to go in a direction different from many of the best contemporary interpretations of the dialogue, which either argue that the dialogue is unified (Griswold 164) or suggest that the dissonance between its two halves reflects a shift in Plato's approach to philosophy (Kahn 373; Nehamas 352). In contrast, I will argue that the rupture in the dialogue is thematically purposive, for it points to an inescapable schism within rhetoric that makes rhetoric philosophically interesting.Socrates' second speech, his palinode to Eros, is a rhetorical tour de force that closes the first half of the dialogue. The importance of the palinode, however, is not limited to its role as an exemplary rhetorical performance, [End Page 138] for it also plays a crucial role in resolving the problem of erotic madness that organizes the intellectual drama of the first half. It would seem reasonable to expect that such an important and powerful moment in the dialogue would, at the very least, play a significant role in the philosophical discussion that composes the dialogue's second half. But that doesn't happen. While Socrates does refer to the palinode in his theoretical discussion of rhetoric, he makes little use of it, and, more important, he is silent on the subject of eros. Both the dramatic organization of the second half of the dialogue and its theoretical discussion cooperate to turn the rhetorical triumph of the palinode into a problem. Why has eros been abandoned as a philosophic topic, and what does this abandoning imply about the erotically grounded rhetoric that Socrates practiced and defended?To make matters worse, Socrates himself dismisses the palinode as a serious effort. He characterizes the speech as little more than a pleasant game, one that is not without value only because "these two certain forms (of gathering and dividing) were stated by chance" (265c). Far from viewing the palinode as possessing philosophical significance, Socrates appears to value it principally for its being a so-so example of a work of rhetoric that has been shaped by dialectic. While it is hard not to take Socrates' dismissal of the seriousness of the speech as partially disingenuous (just prior to his dismissal, he refers to the palinode as serious and reverent [265b]), he also does seem to mean what he says. Whether he is being straightforward or ironic does not finally matter because in either case the problem that occupies him and Phaedrus in the first half has disappeared from the dialogue. And that creates a problem: for if the philosophic issues of the first half of the dialogue drop out, then the dialogue is not coherent.This incoherence is especially troubling given Socrates' explicit endorsement of coherence as an important rhetorical value. In fact, when he begins his... (shrink)