This article asks whether our moral duties are created by others’ non-compliance and whether we should fulfill them or not. For example, do we need to donate more of our income to eradicate world poverty because billionaires do not donate? If so, how much should we donate? In short, should we make up for others’ defaulting on their moral duties – and if so, how and to what extent? Such situations are called non-ideal circumstances in political philosophy. With the increasing (...) importance of non-ideal theories of justice and ethics, the question of how we should act in non-ideal situations has received more attention in the ethics literature in recent years. This article poses and addresses the question of whether we should take up the slack when others do not comply with their own moral duty. This article examines how consequentialism and contractualism might respond to non-ideal situations of taking up the slack and then defends a contractualist-constructivist approach to dealing with these situations. (shrink)

With the existing commitments to climate change mitigation, global warming is likely to exceed 2°C and to trigger irreversible and harmful threshold effects. The difference between the reductions necessary to keep the 2°C limit and those reductions countries have currently committed to is called the ‘emissions gap’. I argue that capable states not only have a moral duty to make voluntary contributions to bridge that gap, but that complying states ought to make up for the failures of some other states (...) to comply with this duty. While defecting or doing less than one’s fair share can be a good move in certain circumstances, it would be morally wrong in this situation. In order to bridge the emissions gap, willing states ought to take up the slack left by others. The paper will reject the unfairness-objection, namely that it is wrong to require agents to take on additional costs to discharge duties that are not primarily theirs. Sometimes what is morally right is simply unfair. (shrink)

The view that agents are not obliged to do more than their initial fair shares when their fellow duty bearers fail to comply has prominent defenders, including Liam Murphy and David Miller. While Murphy thinks that asking agents to take up other agents’ slack would be unfair, Miller claims that slack-taking cannot be required because primary responsibility does not migrate from noncompliers to compliers. This paper argues, by contrast, that there are a number of circumstances in which (...) there is a duty to take up the slack even though it is unfair and even though responsibility stays where it is. The central claim is that what agents owe to third parties is a separate issue from how they relate to fellow duty bearers. This proposal also runs counter to familiar defenses of slack-taking that weigh its unfairness against the moral importance of the interests at stake for third parties. (shrink)

The great plague in London in 1665 was the last in a series of epidemics that had begun with the Black Death in the 14th century. Plagues continued elsewhere in Europe into the 18th century, but after 1679 no cases of plague were reported in England at all. The disease seemed to have disappeared. How could that be explained? The purpose of this paper is to discover when contemporaries began to think that plague had gone for good, and why they (...) thought that had happened. The paper falls into two parts. The first concentrates on the decade of the 1720s, when plague was expected to come from Marseilles and never arrived. In the space of a few months there was fierce and concentrated public debate about a new Quarantine Act to be enforced if an epidemic developed, much of it arguing that the Act was unnecessary because plague was plainly not contagious at all. It depended wholly on local environments, and in England they had been improving ever since the Great Fire of London. The second part of the paper takes the story forward into the later 18th century, when there was no longer much dispute that plague was indeed contagious, but it was confidently supposed that England now enjoyed the double protection of further environmental improvement at home combined with effective quarantine of shipping abroad, especially in the Mediterranean. Over the century, contending explanations for plague were debated, interpretations of the past disputed and sometimes falsified, and expectations and ambitions for the future remodelled, because one epidemic threat had disappeared for good. (shrink)

Over the past 40 years a tradition of Marx interpretation has built up around a single passage concerning black slavery in an 1853 letter from Marx to Engels, in order to demonstrate that Marx’s support for emancipation was conditional on the level of ‘civilization’ attained by black slaves. I will argue that this interpretation, which attempts to prove Marx’s racist defense of slavery, is overdetermined by an inattention to historical context and a hypersensitivity to Marx’s nineteenth-century epithets. This is important (...) because the alleged anti-black racism of Marx and the place black workers occupy in his historical materialist vision of class struggle are of the utmost significance for properly conceptualizing the relationship between Marxism and black liberation. (shrink)

Peter Singer argues that when some fail to do their part in alleviating suffering, the rest of us must take up their slack. In response, L. J. Cohen, Liam Murphy, and David Miller argue that such a requirement would be unfair. No one, they contend, should be required to contribute more than she would be required to under full compliance. I argue against Cohen, Murphy, and Miller that we are obligated to take up slack left by noncontributors, but (...) agree that we are thereby treated unfairly. Drawing on the literatures on group causation and moral responsibility, I argue that noncontributors wrong those they fail to help and those who take up their slack. I refer to the latter kind of wrong as “burden dumping.” Furthermore, I argue that my account applies whether we conceive of rescue duties as discretionary or nondiscretionary. One might think that if my duties to rescue do not require me to contribute to any particular rescue effort, I do not dump burdens on anyone when I do nothing. In reply, I argue that when I have a nondiscretionary duty to contribute to a particular rescue effort, I unfairly dump burdens on those contributing to that effort when I fail to do my part. Similarly, when my duty to rescue is discretionary and I do nothing, I unfairly dump burdens on everyone whose rescue efforts I might have contributed to. Using this apparatus, we can account for the force of arguments such as Singer’s as well as the idea that those who dump burdens are blameworthy for treating other rescuers unfairly. (shrink)

Does the failure of others to comply with collective duties create duties for us to step in and do their share? Defenders of the so-called duty to take up the slack answer this question in the positive. Against their view, defenders of fair shares argue that we only have a duty to contribute our fair share to discharging the collective duty. This paper offers a partial vindication of Liam Murphy’s account of fair shares. I argue that three common objections (...) to fair shares fail to rebut Murphy’s account. On the reading I propose, fair shares may ground as – or more – extensive duties towards third parties as the duty to take up the slack. In addition, fair shares provides something that defenses of slack-taking tend to omit – an account of the limits of our nonideal duties. The paper highlights previously overlooked aspects of Murphy’s account and paves the way for future discussions about slack-taking in the domain of global politics. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 1. A year has passed and continent. has sedimented an annual strata into the geological record of the Internet. During the winter months we gratefully received donations from our readership and we've applied these funds to offset some of the costs of maintaining our tidy corner of the Web. Specifically, we've used these funds to renew our accounts at Flickr, Soundcloud, and Vimeo. We also bought a snippet of code. We continue to accept donations at our WePay (...) account so that we can upgrade our server space, which is currently being donated to us. For this, our fifth issue, we offer varve as our constellating theme. From the Swedish varv , whose semantic web includes notions of “revolution,” accretion “in layers,” and “circle,” a varve is that precise geologic formation referring to the whole of any annual sedimentary layer. We didn't need to rely on Einstein alone to relativize space and time; all of the build-up of matter accrued by the passage had already accomplished that—the spatialization of time. Scaling the term up, we recall ecologist Eugene F. Stoermer coined the term Anthropocene to refer to the extent to which human impact upon the Earth had come to constitute a new geological era. Today the time we take for reflection plumbs an unprecedented ecology and brings to consciousness undiscovered contingencies. As material and medium for making, remaking, archeologizing, and archiving thought, varves (and/as/or journals) are species of the broader category of rhythmites . Secret-ing the rhythms of deep time, every record, geologic or otherwise, is subject to all the effects of interpretation and rhetoric that the contemporary DJ has at their disposal—reverberated, delayed, stuttered, syncopated, beat-juggled, back-spun, cross-faded from one epoch to another. The record itself, however, is hyperspecific: referring to moments of passing contexts, communities, and histories. But as such, a record constitutes the possibility of a long view, chronicling changes in climates, movements of occupation, and the long counts of calendars. As always, continent. welcomes excavations transdisciplinary and media-agnostic in nature and scope. We look forward to accepting yours through May 15. (shrink)

Sixteen American college students spent a month in India with His Holiness the Seventeenth Karmapa. Together, they discussed topics ranging from food justice to gender identities to sustainable compassion. The Karmapa's teachings in this book are the product of those meetings. For those who wish to take up its challenge, this book can serve as a guide to being a friend to this planet and to all of us who share it. The Karmapa describes how to see the world as (...) a global community, in which people are linked by their shared concerns for humanity--and their wish to bring about real change. While acknowledging the magnitude of this undertaking, the Karmapa shows us how to go about it, using the inner resources we have already. (shrink)

Virtually everyone believes that we have a duty to rescue fellow human-beings from serious danger when we can do so at small cost to ourselves – and this often forms the starting point for arguments in moral and political philosophy on topics such as global poverty, state legitimacy, refugees, and the donation of body parts. But how are we to explain this duty, and within what limits does it apply? It cannot be subsumed under a wider consequentialist requirement to prevent (...) harm. Nor can it be understood as a duty of social justice that citizens owe to one another under a social contract for mutual protection. Instead it is a sui generis duty of justice that arises from the direct physical encounter between rescuer and victim, and is accordingly limited in scope. However the simplicity of the duty evaporates when multiple potential rescuers are present. Here responsibility lies with the collective as a whole until it is assigned by a fair procedure to individual members. Each individual is required as a matter of justice to discharge that share, but not more, though in the case that others do not comply, he will have a reason, and sometimes a humanitarian duty, to take up the slack. (shrink)

Virtually everyone believes that we have a duty to rescue fellow human-beings from serious danger when we can do so at small cost to ourselves – and this often forms the starting point for arguments in moral and political philosophy on topics such as global poverty, state legitimacy, refugees, and the donation of body parts. But how are we to explain this duty, and within what limits does it apply? It cannot be subsumed under a wider consequentialist requirement to prevent (...) harm. Nor can it be understood as a duty of social justice that citizens owe to one another under a social contract for mutual protection. Instead it is a sui generis duty of justice that arises from the direct physical encounter between rescuer and victim, and is accordingly limited in scope. However the simplicity of the duty evaporates when multiple potential rescuers are present. Here responsibility lies with the collective as a whole until it is assigned by a fair procedure to individual members. Each individual is required as a matter of justice to discharge that share, but not more, though in the case that others do not comply, he will have a reason, and sometimes a humanitarian duty, to take up the slack. (shrink)

Supersymmetry (SUSY) is a proposed symmetry between bosons and fermions. The structure of the space of SUSY generators is such that the distinction between internal and spacetime symmetries is blurred. As a result, there are two viable candidates for the correct spacetime setting for a flat supersymmetric field theory---Minkowski spacetime and superspace. an extension of four- dimensional Minkowski spacetime to include (at least) four new dimensions, coordinatised by mathematical objects known as supernumbers. These objects are, in one significant way, quite (...) different from real or complex number---some of them have the property that their order of multiplication makes a difference; in mathematical terms, they are said to have nontrivial commutation properties. This paper argues for two theses: first, that one standard set of arguments, related to universality of symmetry behaviour, that motivate a particular choice of spacetime structure in familiar spacetime theories motivates the choice of superspace as the appropriate spacetime for SUSY field theories. And second, that the metaphysical utility of the concept of spacetime requires more than just the satisfaction of this universality condition; in supersymmetric theories, the spacetime concept is not as useful as in special relativity. (shrink)

"Ever Since This World Began" from Love Dog (Penny-Ante Editions, 2013) by Masha Tupitsyn continent. The audio-essay you've recorded yourself reading for continent. , “Ever Since the World Began,” is a compelling entrance into your new multi-media book, Love Dog (Success and Failure) , because it speaks to the very form of the book itself: vacillating and finding the long way around the question of love by using different genres and media. In your discussion of the face, one of the (...) themes of Love Dog , I think there is something to be said about the surfaces media create and how you constantly manipulate them in your work. This seems important for thinking also about your book LACONIA: 1,200 Tweets on Film ; a book on film written in tweets, interposing already three sets of expectations and pushing the boundaries of each medium's faciality, it's surface tension. In Love Dog , is there another kind of facial interaction? Perhaps the discursive faces of approaching love as topic and love as method? If so, how did/do these intersect for you, do/did they drive the creation of this book? MASHA TUPITSYN With LACONIA and Love Dog , I wanted to pay homage to the work modernism has done on subjective time and chronological time by carrying that experiment over into the digital economy. Because LACONIA is a time-based work of cultural criticism that employs the aphorism to look at 21 st century American culture, it is also an archival work of cultural mourning and memory. And in Love Dog , which is also a work about mourning as it relates to love, I wanted to think with all my senses, and to reflect that in the writing itself by using a multi-media form. LACONIA tackled the sound bite and the promotional image--the everyday language of consumer culture--which often wants to communicate ideological agendas through the repetition of a single image or reductive phrase. I had always been interested in the approaches of artists like Barbara Kruger and Jenny Holzer and essayistic, typographical filmmakers, like Chris Marker and Godard. In both cases, I felt it was important to try to compose a book in which deep—critical—thinking happens in so-called immediate, informal, and disposable contexts. That is, in places where you are either not supposed to be serious or are not required to take things seriously. To me the most intervention is needed in every day instances of culture and representation. In order to do that, I had to utilize and interrogate the very structures I was critiquing. In other words, the writing had to materialize in that live, digital, public space. It couldn’t simply happen at home on a piece of paper or in a word document on my computer that no one could see until it was finished. It had to unfold in real time, amidst everything else. And it had to literally be surrounded by the cultural landscape I wanted to assess. In both LACONIA and Love Dog , I wanted to know how and if we can get away from what we cannot get away from? From which there is no respite. Given this, I don’t think hypertexts can really be called hypertexts anymore. Hypertexts are simply the world today. This is not only the way we read the world now. It is the way the world reads. Likewise, interfaciality, as you put it, works on a number of levels for me, both on and off the page. There is my relation to epistemological and phenomenological surfaces—the screen, the body, the face, the voice, gender; the official story. Then there is the way this dovetails formally, and to which the digital adds yet another dimension. It’s also where sound comes into Love Dog (giving the book a sound; giving tonality to the book’s ideas and feelings). As Anne Carson pointed out in her essay “The Gender of Sound,” the two are connected, and of course so are love and gender. In “Ever Since This World Began,” I wanted to think about the phenomenology of the voice, which is why I visualize the sonic in the book and why in my writing about faces, I look at the tonal aspects (the things a face voices and a voice faces) of a face. This was standard to do when images and faces were “silent” in the silent era. Those images/faces were extraordinarily audible. The greatest screen face, to me, is still Falconetti’s in Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc . We can hear her face—even though there is no actual sound on screen of her speaking. The internet is a similarly “silent” space where actual voices are lacking. So intertextuality goes with interfaciality. I’ve also talked a lot about how categorization worked when it came to the reception of my first book, Beauty Talk & Monsters . How despite the fact that Beauty Talk is a text that crisscrosses form and content in a variety of ways, not pinpointing its exact genre—choosing one genre over another—only made things worse. Fiction was the category people were most adverse to me using, even though of course there is a lot of fiction in the book. Part of how fiction works in Beauty Talk is in the reader not knowing exactly where the fiction resides. In Godard’s 1967 film, Weekend , for example, everything matters. Everything is political, whether it’s real or imaginary, film or reality. In Weekend , life is not a game and neither is the game a game. The game is really life. Either everything is important or nothing is. But many people want clear answers and demarcations so that they can decide what is important and what is not important. My use of the “I,” subjective criticism, made everything “real” in Beauty Talk . But fiction is in the construction. It is in the blending. This is why I perforate the movie screen and connect the onscreen and the offscreen; the official story and the backstory. Although I don’t think there is a difference between onscreen and offscreen anymore. Nor is there a dialectic. It’s all screen all the time now. Non-fiction, on the other hand, was more tolerated as a moniker. Unlike Love Dog , Beauty Talk wasn’t explicitly or tangibly (what is tangible is a question in all these books) working with digital forms or within this digital economy, so some people resisted the book’s hypertextuality or intertextuality because they couldn’t see its other forms, if that makes sense. It was a problem of invisibility; of how to make something appear (this is where Nietzsche, big presence in Love Dog , comes in—the nature of appearances). Something people don’t necessarily want to see. Some readers couldn’t see the way forms were interfacing in that book. On the surface, Beauty Talk was simply a text about media culture—the domination of entertainment as a mode of being and knowing—and most readers could only see that one side of the book. But as Godard puts it in Wim Wenders’ documentary about the future of cinema, Room 666 , “Films are made, images are made, when there’s no one looking. That’s what the invisible is, that which we don’t see. That’s what the incredible is, that which we don’t see. And cinema shows you that which we don’t see, the incredible.” We are living in the aftermath of narrative and temporal collapse, which means we don’t read or feel in the same way. I began to use digital forms in my writing because I don’t see us as traditional book people anymore. I would add that power also resides in the invisible, in the things we make invisible by making them visible. Or it did for a long time. The new face of power is quickly becoming so-called transparency, which is even more corrupt because even though we now live in a behind-the-scenes culture, and see and know how the mechanisms of power and corruption operate, we still don't change. The world still doesn't change. Finally, another important thing that Godard says in Room 666 that relates to Love Dog is: “I’m here in front of the camera, and yet in my body and in my head, I’m behind it. My world is the imaginary and the imaginary is a journey between forwards and backwards.” This idea of visible/invisible, foresight and hindsight , backwards and forwards is an important dialectic in relation to time and the idea of the destinal. This is why I wanted Love Dog to travel, literally, figuratively, and discursively. You have to be open to not knowing. To epistemological, geographical, chronological, and emotional aporias. In Love Dog my story is both visible and invisible to me. Sometimes I could see where I was going. Other times I was completely in the dark existentially. Truth procedure, which love is, as bell hooks and Badiou tell us, requires expedition and openness to possibility. Unless you want a story you already know, but that is not truth procedure. So I tried to create this backwards and forwards journey in the book—this sense of travel and motion, hope and doubt—by jumping between forms, media, time; traveling to different places, texts, and emotional registers. The book’s “Time-Jump series,” which mostly takes the form of music—songs—but also a series of “green” videos that I shot, is the most obvious tribute to this idea of subjective and chronological time. continent. Your work aligns with writers that play with the form of their language, or have assumed the role of performance artist at some point: Kathy Acker, Chris Kraus, Avital Ronell, and Anne Carson to name a few representing varied approaches that show up in Love Dog . At the risk of ossifying the work, or missing the point—as these experimental modes of writing stack-up in piles of published works, do they approach a genre? MASHA As I noted in my book Life As We Show It , in Chelsea Girls the poet Eileen Myles points out, “You can’t get money without a category.” More importantly, you can’t get a category—or respect, rank—without a clear genre. This makes genre and gender an obvious pair. The two words are even linked etymologically and both genre and gender concern taxonomies of legitimacy—of sorting through what and who is valuable. So the words share common prejudices. The things one does not want to read is often synonymous with who one doesn't want to read about. Therefore a break-up of or with genre is maybe the genre or anti-genre that could be said to link these writers. Avital Ronell breaks up with philosophical tradition and modes of inquiry. Like Nietzsche, she revaluates methods of evaluation, testing out things you are not supposed to use philosophy to test (and, by the same token, testing philosophy in ways it’s not supposed to be tested), like drugs and stupidity—where philosophy fails and we fail philosophy. And Chris Kraus does something similar in her experimental fiction, using different forms to put female subjectivity “to the test,” so to speak. All these female writers and thinkers have tried to destabilize the systems that have been set up in (and against) writing. Thus missing the mark with genre, even intentionally, means that we have missed the point in some sense as writers and thinkers. And that to me is a good thing, however difficult. We’ve started at the wrong point and gone somewhere else instead. We’ve acknowledged that writing and thinking are also about failure, and that failure is always embedded in the act of writing and in our reasons for writing. So that missing the point is also the point. Derrida insisted: “We must invent a name for those ‘critical’ inventions which belong to literature while deforming its limits.” But how can you give something that resists and deforms, a name? Wouldn’t the name also be deformed? Isn't this why the aforementioned writers get hyphenated descriptors like ficto-criticism? Do we need a proper name to be able to read something carefully? I don’t think so. I don’t need it as a reader. I’ve always taken a work on its own terms. But for most people, if you don’t have an address, people don’t know how to find you. A lot of time, they won’t even know how to look. And in some cases, they’ll think you’re not even worth finding. You are not on the map because you have to literally make the map in order to exist. In her essay, “The Gender of Sound” Carson asks, “Why is female sound bad to hear?” I think for the same reason something uncategorizable (pedagogically, creatively, racially, and sexually)—Other—is hard to read. *For an audio recording of Florida , read by Masha Tupitsyn click here . continent. : We're also curious to hear know how you see the significance of 'performance' (and why the label sticks to the shoes of these authors like toilet paper) in describing this kind of writing work? MASHA I think I responded to the parenthetical portion of this question in my previous answer. As far as how performance relates to Love Dog , in Acker’s Don Quixote , which is another big presence in the book, she writes, “there is no other reality than anthropomorphism.” In Don Quixote , the dog is human and the human is dog. Which brings us to the title of Love Dog and the totemic function of the dog in the book: giving human things animal characteristics and animal things human characteristics. Rather than investing all our human love ideals into dogs, which we do constantly as a culture of dog lovers, I wanted to put the dog into love. It is the difference between the consumption of love as a patriarchal institution or status position and the essence of a type of radical and liberatory relation that would benefit humans in their bonds with other humans. So the dog in Love Dog is not simply the book’s cover or performative affect, so to speak. Love has always needed the dog, which is why the dog is the very embodiment of belief in love . Recall Argos The Great Dog and Odysseus. Argos is the only one who remembers and recognizes the ragged and old Odysseus even after his 20-year absence. So love is the high ideal and the dog, both common and dependable, is the bridge between the sacred and the profane. The dog is the house of love. And because Love Dog is a digital project, it seemed impossible to think about the post-human, technology, the virtual, or difference (which Badiou says is essential to love in In Praise of Love ) without thinking about animal-being and being-animal. Instead of simply “performing” these ideas and characteristics as literary affects, I’m interested in being-becoming. Which means the book’s tropes, leitmotifs, series, and even its titles are in service of that truth procedure. In other words, I actually want to live this way, not just write this way. And, more importantly, I want to live this way not just think this way. So Love Dog became both my totem animal and my autobiographical animal. This made the book organic, anthropomorphic—beyond literary. See the trailer to Masha Tupitsyn's new book available now from Penny Ante Editions. (shrink)

Not all countries do their fair share in the effort of preventing dangerous climate change. This presents those who are willing to do their part with the question whether they should 'take up the slack' and try to compensate for the non-compliers' failure to reduce emissions. There is a pro tanto reason for doing so given the human rights violations associated with dangerous climate change. The article focuses on fending off two objections against a duty to take up the (...) slack: that it is unfair and ineffective. We grant that it is unfair if some have to step in for others but argue that this does not amount to a decisive objection under conditions of partial compliance. With regard to the charge of emission reductions being ineffective, we argue that the empirical case for this claim is missing and that even if it were not, there still remains the option of taking up the slack in other forms. (shrink)

The relationship between mainstream femininity and resistance to it has been theorized in a number of ways. In one approach, mainstream femininity is identified as a patriarchal set of public texts that women accept, negotiate, or resist in practice. Another view sees mainstream femininity as a dominant cultural practice to which there are resistant subcultural responses. Taking a poststructuralist view, this article offers an alternative to these models. The focus of the article is the differing ways in which a (...) set of interviewees validated their participation in a type of relationship that is socially constructed as a departure from mainstream femininity, namely, a voluntary sexual relationship between an adult man and an adolescent girl. (shrink)

This paper raises two problems for plan-expressivism concerning normative judgments about non-corealizable actions: actions which cannot both be performed. First, plan-expressivists associate normative judgment with an attitude which satisfies a corealizability constraint, but this constraint is (in the interpersonal case) unwarranted, and (in the intrapersonal case) warranted only at the price of a contentious normative premise. Ayars (2022) holds that the pair of judgments ‘A should φ’ and ‘B should ψ’ is coherent only if one believes that A can φ (...) while B ψ’s. But this is false. Both Gibbard (2003) and Ayars hold that the pair of judgments ‘A should φ’ and ‘A should ψ’ is coherent only if one believes that A can φ and ψ. But this assumes possibilism. Second, the paper demonstrates, cases involving interpersonal non-corealizability prompt judgments about what multiple agents should do which – contra Gibbard – are not plausibly associated with any planning subject. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Taking Up Space:Museum Exploration in the Twenty-First CenturyTiffany Sutton (bio)Museums have become a crucible for questions of the role that traditional art and art history should play in contemporary art. Friedrich Nietzsche argued in the nineteenth century that museums can be no more than mausoleums for effete (fine) art.1 Over the course of the twentieth century, however, curators dispelled such blanket pessimism by showing that what keeps historical (...) art museums, both comprehensive and modern, "alive" and relevant in the modern art world are the things that curators do with the artworks in their collections.2 In certain cases, I will argue in this article, the focus on artworks and the relationship between them can be rewardingly shifted onto the spatial aspect of the museum. I will try to show what such a shift of focus entails, show that it involves a gestalt shift (in Wittgenstein's terms, the "dawning of an aspect"), and illustrate the limits within which this can arise.3 The foremost of these limiting factors is museum architecture, and I will discuss this to the extent that it determines the limits of what curators can do. How architects do things with museums, however, lies outside the scope of this article.An Art Historical Heuristic Gets a Curatorial MakeoverNineteenth-century art museums typically were vast, labyrinthine, and built to assume the shape of a comprehensive art historical narrative, so they were easy targets for ideologues drawn to vibrant modern artworks and the controversy surrounding them. At the turn of the twentieth century new commercial galleries developed a distinctively modern mode of display in which individual artworks were showcased with plenty of space around them.4 Had existing museums changed their ways to accommodate these developments, the momentum of a new aesthetic of flatness, surface, [End Page 87] and yet purer forms of conceptualism would have been lost. It was not a time for absorption and deflation: new museums, no less monumental and historical but smaller and with fewer volumes, were commissioned to give modern art the appearance of a fresh start.5 The weightless upward mobility of Frank Lloyd Wright's Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan, modeled in 1945 and opened to the public in 1959, consummated this trend of the first half of the twentieth century and gave it its purest form. What the building spurt revealed was that as art changes, it demands to be reflected in its surroundings, not merely accommodated. That the response was to build new museums rather than new wings suggests the inner workings of the principle—call it "curatorial heuristic one"—that, whereas art history is fluid and simply flows forward with new developments, museums are not of this nature; they can become effete.The curatorial revision of this heuristic was a century in coming. As often happens when emerging movements are yet underdetermined, modernism suppressed in its beginnings the background factor that would seem to entail the end of modern art when finally brought into focus: the very context of display that had once set it apart. Duchamp's Readymades (1913) gave the initial nod (or wink) to the gallery context; it was, however, ignored, as a suppressed punch line, until art history was ready to concede the importance of the context of display—not in the gallery, but in the museum—to a site-specific artwork by Richard Serra: his Splashing and Prop (1968). With the museum's framing context and, concomitantly, the importance of the curator's work conceded, the barrier that had kept lesser masterpieces in the basement (or out of the museum) were removed. Unearthed, these began to circulate, and attention centered on the relation in which they stood to better-known artworks, either as suppressed alternates or as descendants of an artistic lineage. So postmodern sprawl began, with the display of multiple alternative art histories drawing, as modernism had, on available display conventions for periodizing according to internal principles (period, school, genre, style) such that detection of them devolved upon the viewer.When public uses for the new public museums began to diversify (from an historical/educational focus to aesthetic/educational and cultural/political ones), principles for ordering artworks were... (shrink)

Sabine Hohl and Dominic Roser argue that states that emit their fair share of greenhouse gases have a duty to step in for states that emit more than their fair share. In this comment I ask two questions: First, given that Hohl and Roser are right, how relevant is the duty to step in for the polluters in practice? Second, is there such a duty on more non-ideal approaches than the one taken by Hohl and Roser as well? I argue (...) that the duty to step in for the polluters is not very relevant (because of considerations of demandingness and fairness) and that on more extremely non-ideal approaches there may be only a limited duty to take up the slack, or no such duty at all (because the duty must be weighed against other duties, and because states are poorly motivated to act in conformity with it). (shrink)

The paper examines obligations towards bearers of the right to asylum in circumstances of partial compliance. Who should bear the burdens when a state responsible for assisting bearers of the right to asylum fails to comply with the requirements of justice and unjustly defaults on its responsibilities? Are the complying states obligated to ‘take up the slack’ and assist the bearers of the right to asylum, or are they obligated to bear only their ‘fair share’ of burdens in the (...) global protection of the right to asylum. The paper argues that the complying states with the capacity to assist can have an obligation of justice to assist bearers of the right to asylum when other states unjustly default on their responsibilities. (shrink)

本論は、反復ないし取り返し（reprise）」という概念によって、デカルト哲学を再解釈する試みである。対話や討論の際に、相手の話や考えを「反復する＝取り返す」（reprendre、この仏語には「非難す る」、「咎める」という含意もある）ことには、いつも意味を取り間違える（mé-prendre）危険性がある。そもそも、あらゆる取り方（prise）は、精神が自分自身を取る（とらえる）仕方からの派生に過ぎ ない。したがって、他のもの（言葉、着想、テーマ、テーゼ等）を取り返す前に、自ら自身を正しく取り返す方法が必要になる。時間において自己自身を取り返す働きであるコギトの実践的な意義は、ここに現れると思われ る。 ましてや、取り返す働きは、何度も自己自身を再把握することであるからこそ、思考の連続性の内にある種の非連続性をもたらす。それは 、現象学で中心となった課題、すなわち自己の時間性や歴史性という方面を際立たせる働きである。この点で、J.ヴァールのデカルト解釈を踏まえつつそれを超えなければならないことが分る。実際、取り返しという現象 -態度の射程は、デカルト哲学の理解にとどまらず、メルロ=ポンティの思想にも不可欠なものである。.

A collective duty gap arises when a group has caused harm that requires remedying but no member did harm that can justify the imposition of individual remedial duties. Examples range from airplane crashes to climate change. How might collective duty gaps be filled? This paper starts by examining two promising proposals for filling them. Both proposals are found inadequate. Thus, while gap-filling duties can be defended against objections from unfairness and demandingness, we need a substantive justification for their existence. I (...) argue that substantive justification can be found in the normative force of commitments individuals make to others with regard to ends. Along the way, I argue that gap-filling duties must be conceptualized differently in group agents, as compared to non-agent groups: in the former, gap-filling duties can be understood as duties to “take up the slack”; in the latter, this would be a category error. (shrink)

Taking on the Tradition focuses on how the work of Jacques Derrida has helped us rethink and rework the themes of tradition, legacy, and inheritance in the Western philosophical tradition. It concentrates not only on such themes in the work of Derrida but also on his own gestures with regard to these themes—that is, on the performativity of Derrida’s texts. The book thus uses Derrida’s understanding of speech act theory to reread his own work. The book consists in a (...) series of close readings of Derrida’s texts to demonstrate that the claims he makes in his work cannot be fully understood without considering the way he makes those claims. The book considers Derrida’s relation to the Greek philosophical tradition and to his immediate predecessors in the French philosophical tradition, as well as his own legacy within the contemporary scene. Part I examines Derrida’s analyses of Plato and Aristotle on the themes of writing and metaphor. Part II looks at themes of donation, inheritance, pedagogy, and influence in relation to Derrida’s readings of the works of Michel Foucault, Jacques Lacan, and Jean-Pierre Vernant. Part III considers the promises and legacies of Derrida’s work on autobiography, friendship, and hospitality, themes Derrida has recently taken up in his readings of Martin Heidegger, Maurice Blanchot, and Emmanuel Levinas. In the Conclusion, the author analyzes what Derrida has recently called a “messianicity without messianism” and shows how Derrida develops two different notions of the future and of legacy: one that always determines a horizon for the donation and reception of any legacy or tradition, and one that leaves open a radically unknown and unknowable future for that legacy and tradition. (shrink)

In this article I demonstrate the significance of a flexible approach to examining the autobiographical in early eighteenth-century womens writing. Using ‘old stories’, existing and developing narrative and literary forms, womens autobiographical writing can be discovered in places other than the more recognizable forms such as diaries and memoirs. Jane Barker and Delarivier Manley‘s works are important examples of the dynamic and creative use of cross-genre autobiographical writing. The integration of themselves in their fictional and poetic works demonstrates the potential (...) of generic fluidity for innovative ways to express and explore the self in textual forms. (shrink)

Experiments in particle physics have hitherto failed to produce any significant evidence for the many explicit models of physics beyond the Standard Model (BSM) that had been proposed over the past decades. As a result, physicists have increasingly turned to model-independent strategies as tools in searching for a wide range of possible BSM effects. In this paper, we describe the Standard Model Effective Field Theory (SM-EFT) and analyse it in the context of the philosophical discussions about models, theories, and (bottom-up) (...) effective field theories. We find that while the SM-EFT is a quantum field theory, assisting experimentalists in searching for deviations from the SM, in its general form it lacks some of the characteristic features of models. Those features only come into play if put in by hand or prompted by empirical evidence for deviations. Employing different philosophical approaches to models, we argue that the case study suggests not to take a view on models that is overly permissive because it blurs the lines between the different stages of the SM-EFT research strategies and glosses over particle physicists' motivations for undertaking this bottom-up approach in the first place. Looking at EFTs from the perspective of modelling does not require taking a stance on some specific brand of realism or taking sides in the debate between reduction and emergence into which EFTs have recently been embedded. (shrink)

Thagard presented a framework for conceptual change in science based on conceptual systems. Thagard challenged belief revision theorists, claiming that traditional belief-revision systems are able to model only the two most conservative types of changes in his framework, but not the more radical ones. The main aim of this work is to take up Thagard’s challenge, presenting a belief-revision-like system able to mirror radical types of conceptual change. We will do that with a conceptual revision system, i.e. a belief-revision-like system (...) that takes conceptual structures as units of revisions. We will show how our conceptual revision and contraction operations satisfy analogous of the AGM postulates at the conceptual level and are able to mimic Thagard’s radical types of conceptual change. (shrink)

Augustine was convinced that the Bible is meant to promote one thing: the love of God and neighbor. Although the human language of the inspired scriptures constitutes a formidable challenge, studying the Bible may be the best use of our limited life span. God the master rhetorician will teach, delight, and move anyone who takes it up and reads.

The private sector is being asked to take up the slack of government cutbacks. This article reviews the development of corporate giving. The arts are identified as an area that needs a defined rationale to justify corporate contributions. A historical review of private support of the arts is presented. International and national support levels are examined. Pragmatic and idealistic reasons for needing the arts are listed. Strategies are suggested to aid business implement successful support programs. A model for corporate (...) images for corporate giving to the arts is also presented. (shrink)

Duties to reduce global poverty are often portrayed as collective duties to assist. At first glance this seems to make sense: since global poverty is a problem that can only be solved by a joint effort, the duty to do so should be considered a collective duty. But what exactly is meant by a ‚joint‘ or ‚collective‘ duty? This paper introduces a distinction between genuinely cooperative and cumulative collective actions. Genuinely cooperative actions require mutually responsive, carefully adjusted contributory actions by (...) cooperating agents, while contributions to cumulative actions are largely independent. The global affluent’s obligation to combat global poverty is not an obligation to perform a genuinely cooperative action. Instead, for most of us the morally best response is to contribute to existing cumulative endeavours. Our obligation to donate money to suitable organisations is a duty to contribute to cumulative action. Collective actions can produce fixed-sum or incremental goods. A collective obligation to produce a fixed-sum good is not distributive, that is, it is an obligation of the plurality of agents as such. This applies to obligations requiring both genuinely cooperative and cumulative actions. I call these kinds of obligations strongly collective obligations. However, for incremental goods the implications are less clear. There, the parameters for moral compliance are not dictated by problem for remedy as such. Rather, the magnitude of the required good is the sum of individually adequate contributions. What is collectively required depends on what is individually required. I propose to call these kinds of obligations weakly collective obligations. It turns out that we – the affluent – have a collective obligation to combat global poverty only in the weak sense. The obligation is collective in the sense that there is joint necessity and that we must contribute to a collective endeavour. Our donations are intended as contributions to a shared goal. But our duty to combat poverty is not a collective duty in the non-distributive, strong sense. This means that we need not necessarily take up the slack left by others or else stop contributing when others do more than their fair share. (shrink)

One of the ways to address the effects of skilled worker emigration is to restrict the movement of skilled workers. However, even if skilled workers have responsibilities to assist their compatriots, what if other parties, such as affluent countries or source country governments, do not fulfil their fair share of responsibilities? This discussion raises an interesting problem about how to think of individual responsibilities under partial compliance where other agents (including affluent countries, developing states, or other individuals) do not fulfil (...) their fair share of responsibilities. What is fair to expect from them? Taking health worker emigration as a case in point, I discuss whether the individual health workers’ fair share of responsibilities to address basic health care needs decreases or increases when the other parties do not fulfil their share. First, I review the responsibilities that different stakeholders may hold. Second, I argue that there are strong reasons against increasing or decreasing health workers’ fair share of responsibilities in a situation of partial compliance. I also argue that it is unfair for non-complier states to enforce health workers to fulfil their fair share or take up the slack. (shrink)

In this thesis, I investigate two challenges for Act Consequentialism which arise in situations where many agents together can make a difference in the world. Act Consequentialism holds that agents morally ought to perform those actions which have the best expected consequences. The first challenge for Act Consequentialism is that it often asks too much. This problem arises in situations where agents can individually make a difference for the better, e.g. by donating money to charities that fight extreme poverty. Act (...) Consequentialism here often requires agents to make immense sacrifices which threaten to compromise agents future ability to do more good, reduce agents to a drastically simple lifestyle, and amount to taking up the slack left by others. The second challenge is that Act Consequentialism often asks too little. This problem arises both in situations where agents can not make any difference for the better, e.g. by stopping to pollute the environment, and in situations where they can not make any difference whatsoever, e.g. when they individually vote or protest against a morally bad but widely supported policy. Act Consequentialism is subject to the above challenges because it only considers the differences that individuals can make on their own. A natural response is to adopt a form of Collective Consequentialism which considers the difference that agents can make together. I investigate how far Act Consequentialism can deal with each of the above challenges, and how far these challenges require us to adopt Collective Consequentialism. (shrink)

The American system of long‐term care is disorganized and expensive. Obtaining care for a loved one is a confusing and difficult journey. When it comes to paying for that care, a bit over half who receive care are supported at least partially by insurance, and those with no insurance pay entirely out of pocket. The costs are exorbitant. What makes the system function is reliance on unpaid family members, who care for their loved ones often at considerable cost to themselves.As (...) the baby boom generation ages, this creaky system will become increasingly dysfunctional, and a likely shortage of caregivers will be at the heart of the difficulties. The supply of unpaid family caregivers will become limited, as the ratio of people in the category of ages forty‐five to sixty‐four compared to those who are eighty and older shrinks from just above seven to one in 2010 to just above four to one in 2030. Paid caregivers will be needed to take up the slack, yet they are poorly paid, work under very difficult conditions, and receive little respect from the health care system. In this essay, I discuss the circumstances facing these paid home‐care workers and a possible path forward, illustrating the current problems by drawing on interviews I conducted for a book‐length study published in 2017. (shrink)

ABSTRACT Scientific advances in genetic analysis have been made possible in recent years by technical developments in computational biology, or bioinformatics. Bioinformatics has opened up the human genome to diverse analyses involving automated laboratory hardware and machine learning algorithms and software. As part of an emerging field of social genomics, recent educational genetics studies using big data have begun to raise challenging findings linking DNA to predicted life outcomes. Bioinformatic technologies and techniques including ‘genome-wide association’ and ‘polygenic scoring’ are producing (...) new kinds of genetic biodata and expert knowledge for rethinking the upbringing and education of children. This article takes as an empirical opening a recent epistemic and ethical controversy over the use of biodata to make genetic predictions about educational, socio-economic and life outcomes, detailing the forms of expert knowledge and technologies involved these predictions, and exploring the social and ethical implications of data-intensive bioinformatics. (shrink)