It has often been thought that there is a special difficulty involved in conceiving of one’s own death. It is easy to think that, while one can easily conceive of, and acknowledge, the death of another person, one cannot ever conceive of what it is for oneself to die. Various things have been inferred from this. The most extreme inference is that one’s own death, or, to be more precise, one’s own non-existence, is actually impossible, since what is inconceivable is (...) impossible. One might also try to infer that one’s existence had no beginning either, although this view is less popular. But even if one does not embrace such extravagant conclusions, conceiving of one’s own ceasing-to-be can easily seem to present a great difficulty. Some existentialist writers and theologians influenced by existentialism have made great play of the supposed mystery. Paul Edwards writes of the temptation to think of death as “existence in a dark, impenetrable abode,” as if non-existence, or the absence of experience, were in fact a peculiar kind of experience which presents us with a great mystery. On this view, even when we conceive of the death of others, we cannot grasp the essential mystery. As Heidegger puts it: “And even if, by thus Being there alongside, it were possible and feasible for us to make plain to ourselves ‘psychologically’ the dying of Others, this would by no means let us grasp the way-to-be which we would then have in mind—namely, coming-to-an-end. We are asking about the ontological meaning of the dying of the person who dies, as a possibility-of-Being which belongs to his Being. We are not asking about the way in which the deceased has Dasein-with or is still-a-Dasein with those who are left behind.” One might make a similar point as follows: I cannot observe my own passing from the world, and observe the world’s continued existence. Once I cease to exist, then “my world” finishes. Wittgenstein writes in the Tractatus: “The world is my world”—and while there is a way in which this is obviously false, it captures much of the intuition under discussion. (shrink)

In a final, short summary of his life and works, David Hume wrote My Own Life as he suffered from gastrointestinal issues that ultimately killed him. Despite his bleak prognosis, Hume remains lighthearted and inspirational throughout. He discusses his life growing up, his family relationships, and his desire to constantly improve his works and his reputation as an author. He confesses, "I have suffered very little pain from my disorder; and what is more strange, have... never suffered a moment's abatement (...) of my spirits; insomuch that were I to name the period of my life which I should most choose to pass over again, I might be tempted to point to this later period." This short biography ends with a series of letters from Hume's close friend and fellow author Adam Smith to their publisher William Strahan, recounting Hume's death and giving a stirring eulogy in honor of their friend. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Death Perception:How Temporary Ventilator Disconnection Helped my Family Accept Brain Death and Donate OrgansThomas B. FreemanThe night of my nephew’s closed head injury in Boston, I was on call as a neurosurgeon at Tampa General Hospital. I was therefore not shocked at first when my telephone rang at four o’clock in the morning, but I soon understood the severity of the tragic news. The next half hour was a (...) blur of frantic phone calls and devastating decisions leading to surgery to remove a subdural hematoma from my nephew’s head, even though he was only two brain stem reflexes away from brain death.I thought that my experience as a neurosurgeon would somehow help me. However, when my sister–in–law asked me if this was just like the other tragic closed head injuries that I had seen in 26 years of practice, my answer was very simple: this was the only severe closed head injury I had ever seen—in my family. At this point, I was no longer a neurosurgeon. I was an uncle. My nephew’s closed head injury overwhelmed both his brain’s capacity to survive and my entire family’s ability to think rationally or objectively while grieving so intensely.It is in this context that we were asked to consider organ donation. The appeal for organ donation is one of altruism. My nephew’s parents agreed that organ donation would be an important way to honor their son’s life, allow him to make one final contribution to save the lives of several patients, and help to bring peace to the family.I will never forget, however, my niece’s distraught response. She is altruistic by nature, but was tremendously conflicted by the choice to donate her own brother’s organs. At this point, all discussions about organ donation stopped until we could understand the source of her conflict. Since she did not have legal authority regarding the final decision, some family members wondered if organ donation should be allowed if she could not come to terms with the choice. She felt isolated, because she was the only person in the room who was experiencing conflict. As a neurosurgeon, I have always advised other families in this situation that they may have more peace if they can make such decisions unanimously, regardless of who has the ultimate legal authority for decision–making. This helps bring healing to the family, eliminates disruption of family values and unity, and reduces possible feelings of guilt.I asked my niece what she was feeling. She stated something that I had never heard before as a neurosurgeon. She had listened to the words that her brother was brain dead, but she felt that he was somehow still alive, since he was breathing on a ventilator and his heart was beating. She felt powerless due to her inability to do anything more for [End Page 9] him. She also wanted to be there when her brother “died,” which she would recognize by the cessation of his heartbeat. She would not abandon her brother.I searched for a way to respect my niece’s wishes and her legitimate request, while preserving the ability to proceed with organ donation. Solving this conundrum proved to be a pivotal part of the beginning of both her mourning process and acceptance of his death.As an uncle, I experienced the clear dissociation that modern medicine creates between medical care and the natural human process of recognizing and accepting death. My family observed the subtle difference between a deep coma and brain death. They noticed that my nephew’s color had changed when his temperature dropped to 94o F before the heating blanket was placed. They perceived the decrease in muscle tone when he stopped breathing faster than the ventilator rate. Outside of that, there was no significant difference in his appearance when he was “alive” or “dead.”In spite of heroic measures and superlative surgical and medical care, his closed head injury progressed unremittingly until he became brain dead 36 hours later. The diagnosis of “brain death” was pronounced to the family. Accepting the death of someone who is... (shrink)

This volume records a remarkable encounter in critical and philosophical thinking: a meeting of two of the great pioneers in contemporary thought, Maurice Blanchot and Jacques Derrida, who are also bound together by friendship and a complex relation to their own pasts. More than a literary text with critical commentary, it constitutes an event of central significance for contemporary philosophical, literary, and political concerns. The book consists of _The Instant of My Death,_ a powerful short prose piece by Blanchot, and (...) an extended essay by Derrida that reads it in the context of questions of literature and of bearing witness. Blanchot's narrative concerns a moment when a young man is brought before a firing squad during World War II and then suddenly finds himself released from his near death. The incident, written in the third person, is suggestively autobiographical—from the title, several remarks in the text, and a letter Blanchot wrote about a similar incident in his own life—but only insofar as it raises questions for Blanchot about what such an experience might mean. The accident of near death becomes, in the instant the man is released, the accident of a life he no longer possesses. The text raises the question of what it means to write about a experience one cannot claim as one's own, and as such is a text of testimony or witness. Derrida's reading of Blanchot links the problem of testimony to the problem of the secret and to the notion of the instant. It thereby provides the elements of a more expansive reassessment of literature, testimony, and truth. In addressing the complex relation between writing and history, Derrida also implicitly reflects on questions concerning the relation between European intellectuals and World War II. (shrink)

This volume records a remarkable encounter in critical and philosophical thinking: a meeting of two of the great pioneers in contemporary thought, Maurice Blanchot and Jacques Derrida, who are also bound together by friendship and a complex relation to their own pasts. More than a literary text with critical commentary, it constitutes an event of central significance for contemporary philosophical, literary, and political concerns. The book consists of _The Instant of My Death,_ a powerful short prose piece by Blanchot, and (...) an extended essay by Derrida that reads it in the context of questions of literature and of bearing witness. Blanchot's narrative concerns a moment when a young man is brought before a firing squad during World War II and then suddenly finds himself released from his near death. The incident, written in the third person, is suggestively autobiographical—from the title, several remarks in the text, and a letter Blanchot wrote about a similar incident in his own life—but only insofar as it raises questions for Blanchot about what such an experience might mean. The accident of near death becomes, in the instant the man is released, the accident of a life he no longer possesses. The text raises the question of what it means to write about a experience one cannot claim as one's own, and as such is a text of testimony or witness. Derrida's reading of Blanchot links the problem of testimony to the problem of the secret and to the notion of the instant. It thereby provides the elements of a more expansive reassessment of literature, testimony, and truth. In addressing the complex relation between writing and history, Derrida also implicitly reflects on questions concerning the relation between European intellectuals and World War II. (shrink)

Background Ethical principles behind prioritization in healthcare are continuously relevant. However, applying ethical principles during times of increased need, such as during the COVID-19 pandemic, is challenging. Also, little is known about nursing home nurses’ prioritizations in their work to achieve well-being and health for nursing home residents. Aim The aim of this study was to explore nursing home nurses’ priority-setting for older nursing home residents in Sweden during the COVID-19 pandemic. Research design, participants, and research context We conducted a (...) qualitative interview study. Data were collected through in-depth interviews (retrospective self-reports) between February and May 2021 with 21 nursing home nurses. To help respondents to recall their memories, we used the critical incident technique (CIT). We analyzed data within the theoretical framework and the methodological orientation of content analysis. Ethical considerations Written and verbal consent was obtained before the interviews, and information was given to participants informing them that participation was entirely voluntary. The Swedish Ethical Review Agency gave an advisory opinion stating that there were no ethical objections to the research project (Dnr. 2020-05649). Findings We identified an overarching theme—nursing home nurses struggling on multiple fronts, “just do it”—and seven categories: striving for survival and caring about a dignified death; responding sensitively to relatives’ expectations; ranking the urgency of needed care; responding to input from different actors; combating the spread of infection in unconventional ways; taking the lead and doing what is required; and following the ideals of person-centered nursing. Conclusions Nurses’ priority-setting for older nursing homes residents during the COVID-19 pandemic meant strain and struggle. In some cases, nurses had taken responsibility for priorities falling outside their statutory powers. Different demands and interests affected nurses’ priorities. Nursing home nurses need organizational and managerial support to prioritize. (shrink)

Contemplating one’s own death is a core aspect in the history of Western philosophy. In the modern era, existential philosophy has inherited this tradition and established unique discussions on the concept of “_my_ death,” resting on the premise that this concept is unapproachable via scientific inquiry. Conversely, biological research is essentially conducted within the scope of life phenomena, with death being referred to in the sense of lifespan; thus, death is not among its inherent themes, which automatically excludes the concept (...) of _my_ death from its scope. To establish a dialogue between the two fields, this study questions the widely held premise that _my_ death is unrelated to science and is best examined by philosophy. I consider the movement between continuity and discontinuity as foundational to scientific development, and integrate it with the relationship between the unknown and known. Furthermore, I extend this to the concepts of consciousness and body, and subsequently clarify and define the unknown divisions. Finally, I examine the kinds of unknowns that science confronts to interpret philosophically how an aspect of reproductive theory has unwittingly revealed a completely new dimension of life: _my_ death. Overall, I argue that _my_ death is an essential point of contact between philosophy and biology that reveals the scholarly significance of the unknown. (shrink)

In this paper I describe and argue against two positions. The first, espoused by Epicurus and other philosophers, contends that in permanent death, since there is no longer a subject, my own death cannot be a loss for me. I argue that this thesis makes an illicitassumption and itself embodies a conceptual confusion. Therefore, my death can after all have the logical status of a loss for me. The Christian Church, however, has adopted what I call the “official” position; namely, (...) that while my death could be a loss for me, if I am a believer, it must instead be considered a gain. Against this claim, I urge the adoption of a contrary “unofficial” position which argues that even as a believer my death may be a loss for me. I contend that the “official” position embodies internal incoherence and promotes a corrupt version of Christianity. The “unofficial” position, however, is compatible with Christian teaching on self-mortification and more accurately represents New Testament attitudes towards death. Thereby I conclude that regarding my death as loss to myself is neither conceptually absurd nor a failure of faith. (shrink)

We examine crime that emerges from the global restructuring of agriculture and food systems by employing the case of the Australian “Ship of Death,” whereby nearly 58,000 sheep were stranded at sea for almost 3 months in 2003, violating the Western Australia Animal Welfare Act of 2002. This case demonstrates that the acceleration of transnational trade networks, in the context of agri-food globalization, victimizes animals and constitutes a crime. Herein, we examine this case in depth and show how economic restructuring, (...) driven by a “logic of capital” orientation, can exert pressure on the state causing it to fail to enforce its own regulations and in this way engage in criminal actions. (shrink)

Since its introduction in 1938, electroshock, or electroconvulsion therapy , has been one of psychiatry's most controversial procedures. Approximately 100,000 people in the United States undergo ECT yearly, and recent media reports indicate a resurgence of its use. Proponents claim that changes in the technology of ECT administration have greatly reduced the fears and risk formely associated with the procedure. I charge, however that ECT as routinely used today is at least as harmful overall as it was before these changes (...) were instituted. I recount my own experience with combined insulin coma - elcetroshock during the early 1960s and the story of the first electroshock "treatment." I report on who now is being electroshocked, at what cost, where, and for what reasons. I discuss ECT technique modifications and describe how ECT is currently administered. I examine assertions and evidence concerning ECT's effectivness and ECT-related deaths, brain damage, and memory loss. Finally I describe "depatterning treatment," a brainwashing technique developed in Canada during the 1950s, drawing a parallel between electroshock and brainwashing. (shrink)

What is the origin of ethical responsibility? What gives us our ability to respond? An ethical response involves responding to myself: I answer the call of my conscience. It also involves answering to the Other: I respond to the appeal of my neighbor. Is one form of response prior to the other? Contemporary thinking about these questions has been largely taken up by the debate between Levinas and Heidegger. Responsibility, according to Heidegger, begins with our concern for our being.1 The (...) “call of conscience” originates in our responsibility for what we are. By contrast, Levinas sees this “call” as beginning, not with ourselves, but with our neighbor. Its origin is “the face of the other.” So framed, the debate can be expressed in the opposition: self-responsibility against responsibility for the other.2 My purpose in what follows is to establish two claims. The first is that behind this opposition, there is a fundamental agreement concerning the origin of our ethical obligations. Both philosophers hold that ethical responsibility ultimately springs from our encounter with death. Their real quarrel concerns its location. Where do we first confront death? Is the “first death” our own or that of the other person? Do I confront death in the anxiety I have over my own demise or does it make its primary appearance in what Levinas calls “the face as the very mortality of the other person”?3 My second claim is that, whichever we choose, we cannot really base ethical responsibility on this encounter. This is because death for both philosophers is nontransferable and, hence, ultimately isolating. Furthermore, to face it is a traumatic experience. A traumatised self, however, cannot act. It can only flee. Given this, the response death actually provokes is avoidance. To adequately ground ethical responsibility, we must, I conclude, turn from seeking its basis in death understood in terms of absence and passivity. We must rethink this ground in terms of life taken as presence and affectivity. §1.. (shrink)

In contrast to idealistic denial and Heidegger’s absolutization of death Levinas tries to interpret death on the background of the ethical relation towards fellow men. The boundary which death presents to life he interprets as the experience of passivity of subject in front of the absolute otherness of death. The subject also experiences such passivity in ethical relation towards other people whose otherness and difference nevertheless invert into ethical non-indifference and responsibility of the subject. In this ethical relating Levinas finds (...) the source of meaning, which is alienated from Being, and starting from which he tries to derive new meaning for his own death as well as for the death of my fellow man. (shrink)

In this paper I examine the paradox of human subjectivity in light of the tension between two forms of approaching subjectivity (as transcendental subject or as empirical being) along with two other paradoxes that, I will argue, are also the expression of the larger tension between first-personal and third-personal accounts of experience. One is the “crazy paradox” Merleau-Ponty points to in his analyses of Husserl’s reflection on the notion of Earth as ground in the text “The originary ark, the Earth, (...) does not move”. The other is the paradox of death, that consists of the contradictory understanding of my own death as being certain yet unconstitutable. I present a brief description of Husserl’s developments on death and argue that its peculiarities present a challenge for the phenomenological method as a whole, and for the distinction between transcendental subjectivity and the empirical human being; then I offer a preliminary analysis of the Merleau-Pontian diagnosis of Husserl’s philosophy as well as Merleau-Ponty’s own way out of the paradox, and point out some of its insufficiencies. (shrink)

My recent article, “The challenge of brain death for the sanctity of life ethic” (Ethics & Bioethics (in Central Europe), 2018, 8 (3–4), pp. 153–165) elicited five commentaries. In this brief response, I clarify my own position in the light of some misunderstandings, and discuss whether the definition of death is best thought of as an ethical question, or as a matter of fact. I also comment on the suggestion that we should allow people to choose the criteria by which (...) they wish their own death to be determined, or their organs removed to be donated to others. (shrink)

For almost a decade, I have taught an undergraduate course on death and dying and have served as an ethics consultant in an academic medical center where I support patients and families navigating difficult end-of-life decisions. Chapters from Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's On Death and Dying, Sherwin Nuland's How We Die, and Atul Gawande's Being Mortal are required reading in my course because these physician-writers offer detailed, firsthand stories that help readers imagine the places and faces of dying patients and their families. (...) Respectively, these authors teach us about patients' changing perceptions about their own deaths, the physio-cultural shapes of the dying process, and the fraught... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:My Circumcision Decision:A Journey of Inquiry, Courage and DiscoveryLaurie EvansBefore becoming a mother, I was teaching parents to massage their babies and offering trainings for professionals. To promote my work, in 1984, I exhibited at the Whole Life Expo in New York City. When I returned to my booth after a break, I noticed someone had left a pamphlet by Edward Wallerstein, who wrote "Circumcision: An American Health Fallacy." (...) Since I am naturally curious, I read it. Disturbed, I thought of tossing it. But, how could I be teaching a nurturing technique for newborns and avoid this topic? As a Jewish woman, how would I make the decision for my own future sons? Little did I know this one piece of paper would lead me on a path of inquiry that would change my life.One of the presenters at this conference was Dr. Robert Mendelsohn, an Orthodox pediatrician. Although Dr. Mendelsohn realized some parents would allow circumcision for religious reasons, he was honest enough to dispel every medical myth and explain the harm of removing normal functioning tissue. He also described possible complications from removing the foreskin, including infection, hemorrhage, and although rare, death.To learn more, I read whatever I could find on the topic. I attended midwifery and childbirth conferences to promote my work and prepare for when I became pregnant. I decided to ask about circumcision, but the conversations were awkward and I received little helpful information. I found that circumcision was a taboo topic; few people wanted to talk about it. Why? Doctors who perform circumcisions, nurses who recommend it, and parents who consent to it do not want to face the reality of the harm they cause. Instead of facing the pain, they avoid the topic, and the procedure continues. Most men do not want to discuss or think about their own circumcisions. I learned that we need to have compassion during these conversations.A Jewish ritual ceremony (bris) is performed on the eighth day after the boy's birth, and includes circumcision and prayers. At a bris, friends and relatives are invited to observe and celebrate. It is part of my heritage. I tried to talk to my relatives about the information I had found, but everyone refused to discuss it. This avoidance made my decision very difficult. Then, for the first time, I was invited to a bris; I didn't want to attend. However, I had been at the boy's birth, so I decided to go to offer support. During the circumcision, my reaction was intense: I wanted to take the baby and run. I felt like an accomplice. I wanted to grab people by the [End Page E2] shoulders and scream, "How dare you?" I vowed I would never attend another bris, and I made the decision to write publicly instead of anonymously.I still had doubts, because I didn't know one intact adult male. What if I were to have a son, keep him intact, and he developed a complication later in life? I have learned that doctors are not taught non-invasive solutions, so most circumcisions performed after infancy are unnecessary. A Jewish doctor recommended a circumcision for a seventynine year old man who had a persistent rash that would not respond to treatment. Our organization suggested that he apply topical acidophilus. After he followed the recommendation, the rash disappeared, so he canceled the circumcision.In 1985, I became pregnant. Like many women I spoke to, I didn't want to face the circumcision decision, so I prayed for a girl. Our childbirth educator shared about male circumcision, which led to conversations with my husband. These tense interactions ended in an impasse. I wondered how this decision would impact my marriage. I experienced immense relief that my firstborn was a girl. Time was on my side.One day while walking in New York City, I serendipitously crossed paths with my childbirth educator. She was going to the United Nations to oppose female circumcision. I was in my 30s and had a master's degree in teaching. I had studied massage and anatomy. Yet, I had never heard about this tribal ritual. I had... (shrink)

Monotheistic conceptions of an afterlife raise a philosophical question: In virtue of what is a postmortem person the same person who lived and died? Four standard answers are surveyed and criticized: sameness of soul, sameness of body or brain, sameness of soul-body composite, sameness of memories. The discussion of these answers to the question of personal identity is followed by a development of my own view, the Constitution View. According to the Constitution View, you are a person in virtue of (...) having a first-person perspective, and a postmortem person is you if and only if that person has the same first-person perspective. The Christian doctrine of resurrection has three features: a postmortem person is embodied; a postmortem person is identical to some premortem person; and the postmortem person owes existence to a miracle. I show how the Constitution View accommodates these three features. (shrink)

In Reasons and Persons Derek Parfit defends the principle that it is not irrational to perform an action one believes to be morally right, even if it is no tin one’s self-interest. He calls this principle CP2 and formulates it as follows: -/- "There is at least one desire that is not irrational, and is no less rational than the bias in one’s own favor. This is a desire to do what is in the interests of other people, when this (...) is either morally admirable, or one’s moral duty." (Parfit 1984, 131) -/- I will examine his defense of this principle, which is essentially an invocation of a thought-experiment he labels My Heroic Death, with a view to clarifying its relationship to rational egoism and the principles of rational choice, as explained below. -/- . (shrink)

In this new edition of his acclaimed autobiography — long out of print and rare until now — Alan Watts tracks his spiritual and philosophical evolution from a child of religious conservatives in rural England to a freewheeling spiritual teacher who challenged Westerners to defy convention and think for themselves. From early in this intellectual life, Watts shows himself to be a philosophical renegade and wide-ranging autodidact who came to Buddhism through the teachings of Christmas Humphreys and D. T. Suzuki. (...) Told in a nonlinear style, In My Own Way wonderfully combines Watts’ own brand of unconventional philosophy and often hilarious accounts of gurus, celebrities, psychedelic drug experiences, and wry observations of Western culture. A charming foreword written by Watts’ father sets the tone of this warm, funny, and beautifully written story of a compelling figure who encouraged readers to “follow your own weird” — something he always did himself, as his remarkable account of his life shows. (shrink)

This paper situates the data privacy debate in the context of what I call the death of the data subject. My central claim is that concept of a rights-bearing data subject is being pulled in two contradictory directions at once, and that simultaneous attention to these is necessary to understand and resist the extractive practices of the data industry. Specifically, it is necessary to treat the problems facing the data subject structurally, rather than by narrowly attempting to vindicate its rights. (...) On the one hand, the data industry argues that subjects of biometric identification lack legal standing to pursue claims in court, and Facebook recently denied that that its facial recognition software recognizes faces. On the other hand, industry takes consent to terms of service and arbitration clauses to create enforceable legal subject positions, while using promises of personalization to create a phenomenological subject that is unaware of the extent to which it is being manipulated. Data subjects thus have no legal existence when it is a matter of corporate liability, but legal accountability when it is a matter of their own liability. Successful reform should address the power asymmetries between individuals and data companies that enable this structural disempowerment. (shrink)

The text of this poem, already corrupt in the Palatine, has had a turbulent history over the last two centuries. Here is Page's version, the translation in Gow–Page, and my own somewhat expanded apparatus: I who in time past was good for five or nine times, now, Aphrodite, hardly manage once from early night to sunrise. The thing itself, – already often only at half-strength, – is gradually dying. That's the last straw. Old age, old age, what will you do (...) later when you come to me, if even now I am as languid as this. (shrink)

I begin with the assumption that a philosophically significant tension exists today in feminist philosophy of religion between those subjects who seek to become divine and those who seek their identity in mutual recognition. My critical engagement with the ambiguous assertions of Luce Irigaray seeks to demonstrate, one the one hand, that a woman needs to recognize her own identity but, on the other hand, that each subject whether male or female must struggle in relation to the other in order (...) to maintain realism about life and death. No one can avoid the recognition that we are each given life but each of us also dies. In addition, I raise a more general, philosophical problem for analytic philosophers who attempt to read Continental philosophy of religion: how should philosophers interpret deliberately ambiguous assertions? For example, what does Irigaray mean in asserting. 'Divinity is what we need to become free, autonomous, sovereign'? To find an answer, I turn to the distinctively French readings of the Hegelian struggle for recognition which have preoccupied Continental philosophers especially since the first half of the last century. I explore the struggle for mutual recognition between womrn and men who must face the reality of life and death in order to avoid the projection of their fear of mortality onto the other sex. This includes a critical look at Irigaray's account of subjectivity and divinity. I turn to the French philosopher Michèle Le Doeuff in order to shift the focus from divinity to intersubjectivity. I conclude that taking seriously the struggle for mutual recognition between subjects forces contemporary philosophers of religion to be realist in their living and dying. With this in mind, the lesson from the Continent for philosophy of religion is that we must not stop yearning for recognition. Indeed, we must event risk our autonomy/divinity in seeking to recognize intersubjectivity. (shrink)

Contemporary arguments concerning the permissibility of physician-assisted suicide [PAS], or suicide in general, often rehearse classical arguments over whether individual persons have a fundamental right based on autonomy to determine their own death, or whether the community has a legitimate interest in individual members’ welfare that would prohibit suicide. I explicate historical arguments pertaining to PAS aligned with these poles. I contend that an ethical indictment of PAS entails moral duties on the part of one’s community to provide effective means (...) of ameliorating physical and existential suffering. I further elucidate how such duties have been affirmed by the Roman Catholic Church. My aim is to provide reasons why the expanding legalization of PAS should not preclude social investment in effective palliative care and providing a communal presence to the dying as they confront their subjectively experienced suffering. (shrink)

Many of us, and I am no exception, have been led to assume, almost un-consciously, that Śankara is India's greatest philosopher and that the non-dualist philosophy he consolidated, Advaita Vedānta, is the supreme spiritual philosophy of India, if not of the whole world. Dualist opponents like Madhva, on the other hand, have usually been appreciated very little, if at all. Several of my colleagues think of Madhva as a reactionary, if brilliant, theist whose philosophy best serves as a foil to (...) Śankara's. Madhva, it almost seems, is studied not for his own philosophical virtues but as a means the better to appreciate Śankara's. I believe that we must weigh more carefully the dualist position, particularly its trenchant critique of non-dualism. We may discover in the process that Śankara, whatever else he was – brilliant stylist, mystic par excellence , deft polemicist – was not the originator or consolidator of anything like an internally consistent metaphysics. (shrink)

Doctor, just one more thing.” I marvel every time I hear this, nearly always as I reach for the door. It is as though all patients receive copies of the same instructions, perhaps posted somewhere in the waiting room: Wait until your appointment has run over time. Watch until your doctor stands to leave. Ask a question of grave importance that cannot possibly be answered quickly. I released the doorknob. “Yes, sir?” “I was wondering if you had any advice for (...) me on preparing to die. You see, I got a copy of the pathology report and even though my oncologist didn’t tell me the prognosis was bad, I did a little of my own research. I learned that ‘high grade’ and ‘poorly .. (shrink)

In the early morning hours of August 4, 2013, Joy Pavelich's world was shattered when she found out that her twenty-year-old son Eric had taken his own life at the family farm in Saskatchewan. Struggling to make sense of Eric's sudden and unexpected suicide, Joy takes a deeply personal and difficult journey through his past--from his happy childhood, to his mental health struggles in his early teens, to his death and the resulting aftermath of his passing. CHASING MY SON ACROSS (...) HEAVEN demonstrates how to rebuild a life fractured by extreme trauma using storytelling as a powerful healing tool. The author tackles some of the most pressing issues facing society today: youth mental health, suicide and post-traumatic stress. Through her explorations, Joy reveals how we can all find the courage to rebuild our lives while continuing to honor the deep love for those we've lost."--Back cover. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Unique Response to Death:Day of the Dead Fiestas and Communal Articulations of ResistanceDenise Meda-LambruIntroductionPhilosophers such as Octavio Paz and Emilio Uranga theorize death grounded in Mexican circumstances to show an intimate relational dynamic with life. In their view, death is embedded in the everydayness of the living. Carlos A. Sánchez, in "Death and the Colonial Difference," explains that the Mexican idea of death reveals much about the life (...) and the situatedness of those who subscribe to the relational dynamic between life and death. Death is linked to the living, especially for those who are situated in inferiorized positions. In the accounts promoted by Paz and by Uranga, the historical and social conditions of lived experience provide the context for how death is conceived, and, subsequently, treated. They advance Mexican conceptions of death and provide interesting perspectives into how some colonized peoples are resisting narrow narratives of death. This is to say that their approaches do not grant the dominant assumption that death is merely a biological event or a life event ceasing the life of the individual. In this essay, I examine their critiques of dominant assumptions of death to elaborate on conceptions of death contextualized within historical and social entanglements, namely, a Mexican analysis of death. In particular, I utilize Paz's work on Day of the Dead fiestas to study communal practices and theorize the ritual dimensions of the life and death relationship. Through an examination of a Mexican approach to death, I contend that rituals of death help locate the non-dominant social logics that engender resistant activity and cultivate a distinct interconnected communal relation.To develop this position, I clarify the historical and social distinctions between Mexican and Anglo-American approaches to death and analyze literature promoting a Mexican view of death. Ultimately, I share a similar view [End Page 31] with Paz, Uranga, and Sánchez who charge that there is a unique Mexican idea of death. However, to be clear, my interest in their work does not assume they represent the Mexican view of death (Brandes, Skulls to the Living). Rather, I am interested in exploring how their discussions of death, from a particular socio-historical situation, reveal ways in which colonized peoples refuse dichotomous narratives of death. Sánchez's work, in particular, provides valuable insights into the Mexican relation with death, particularly the role of coloniality/modernity with temporality. Lastly, as I return to Paz's own discussion of death, I refer to the sensibilities and practices relevant to the resistant dimensions of a Mexican relationship with death. An analysis of Paz's focus on fiestas offers a focus distinct from Sánchez in that it pays significant attention to the ritual dimensions of death and helps illustrate the resistant responses to hegemonic social norms. Thus, paying attention to communal practices, this essay emphasizes the relationship between death rituals and deviant activity to dominant modes of being.What Is Death? Examining the DistinctionsScholars have noted a distinction between the logics involved in European and Anglo-American approaches to death and those of Mexican people. Emilio Uranga asserts that "[f]or the North American (el norteamericano), death is a reality that must be hidden, a phenomenon that is silenced and masked as much as possible so that it will not disturb, with its impertinence, the flow of a life that unfolds in radical dedication to [self]-realization and work" (qtd. in Sánchez 180). Paz shares a similar view of this concealment. He writes that "the word death is not pronounced in New York, in Paris, in London, because it burns the lips" ("Day of the Dead" 57). Paz describes death for the Euro-Anglo as one that is treated as a stinging topic to be avoided. In both Uranga's view and Paz's view, the Euro-Anglo phenomenon of death is not socially discussed or regarded as part of the daily lived realities of the subject. If we take their accounts as at least generally accurate, then for Anglos, death is something that is to be treated as separate from life.1In distinction, however, the Mexican attitude toward death is described as... (shrink)

In the Hebrew Scriptures, there are familiar consequences for disobedience to God—destruction of holy sites, slavery, exile, and death. But there is one consequence that is less familiar and of special interest in this chapter. Disobedience to God sometimes results in stark reversals in God’s very relationship and experiential availability to God’s own people. Such people may even remove God’s very presence. This is a curious form of punishment that threatens the very spiritual identity of the victims of the reversal. (...) This chapter explores divine reversal in the Hebrew Scriptures (and its continuation in the New Testament). Insofar as the self-identified people of God commit positive injustices against others, and even insofar as they are culpable for failing to prevent such injustices from occurring, devotees of the Hebrew Scriptures—so, devout Jews and Christians alike—ought to take seriously the possibility that God will side with those who suffer the injustices and even, in a sense, sanctify their life, practices, and identity. Divine reversals pose problems for Jewish and Christian ethics, which must grapple with the possibility that God might seem to adopt inconsistent moral positions across time—or at least inconsistent moral postures. (shrink)

Derrida's purpose in ‘Death Penalties’ (2004), is to show how both arguments in favour of capital punishment, exemplified by Kant's, and arguments for its abolition, such as those of Beccaria, are deconstructible. He claims that ‘never, to my knowledge, has any philosopher as a philosopher, in his or her own strictly and systematically philosophical discourse, never has any philosophy as such contested the legitimacy of the death penalty.’ (2004, 146) Derrida also asks how it is possible ‘to abolish the death (...) penalty in a way that is based on principle, that is universal and unconditional, and not because it has become not only cruel but useless, insufficiently exemplary?’ (2004, 137) In my paper, I examine Derrida's claim about the lack of systematic opposition to the death penalty on the part of philosophers and suggest an answer to his question concerning the possibility of a universal and unconditional opposition to capital punishment. (shrink)

In De Rerum Natura III 963-971, Lucretius argues that death should not be feared because it is a necessary part of the natural cycle of life and death. This argument has received little philosophical attention, except by Martha Nussbaum, who asserts it is quite strong. However, Nussbaum's view is unsustainable, and I offer my own reading. I agree with Nussbaum that, as she construes it, the cycle of life argument is quite distinct from the better-known Epicurean arguments: not only does (...) it start from different premises, but it is a completely different type of argument. However, thus construed, it is deeply problematic. It relies on premises that are much more at home in Stoic than in Epicurean ethics, and Lucretius' appeal to nature in this argument contradicts what he says elsewhere in De Rerum Natura. I consider why Lucretius offers what appears to be such a flawed argument, and I propose a reading on which the cycle of life argument could be offered consistently by an Epicurean. The cycle of life argument, unlike the better-known arguments, does not attempt directly to show that death is not a bad thing. Instead, it targets certain destructive attitudes towards one's life that result in one fearing death. By helping relieve the interlocutor of these attitudes, the argument aims at reducing his fear of death. (shrink)

In this essay I examine the relevance of Hume's skepticism for the debate around his death. I argue that as to the official record of Hume's manner of death, `My Own Life' indirectly points to his skepticism, while Adam Smith's `Letter to Strahan' evades the issue altogether. As for the responses, when they address the problem of Hume's skepticism, they are either hostile or, at best, dismissive of it. I claim that William Cullen's letter to John Hunter constitutes the one (...) relation of Hume's death that positively acknowledges his skeptical principles, and acknowledges, in a Humean fashion, their beneficial moral influence. Along with Cullen, I argue that such influence both delivers one from superstitious disquiet and heightens the enjoyment of common life. It thus plays a central role in Hume's tranquil acceptance of death. (shrink)

In the December 2015 Issue of the Police Journal Sam Poyser and Rebecca Milne addressed the subject of miscarriages of justice. Cold case investigations can address some of these wrongs. The salient points for attention are those just before his sudden death: Milligan was appointed Private Secretary to Jonathan Aitken, the then Minister of Arms in the Conservative government in 1994. The known facts are as follows: 1. Stephen David Wyatt Milligan was found deceased on Tuesday 8th February 1994 at (...) his Chiswick, West London house where he lived alone. His body was found by his secretary Vera Taggart who was told by Julie Kirkbride where a spare key to his London house was kept and who decided to go to his house that day because he was not answering his telephone. Police said he had made one last telephone call on Saturday evening at 9.00pm. 2. Stephen David Wyatt Milligan had been the elected Member of Parliament (‘MP’) for Eastleigh in Hampshire since 1992. 3. The important topics this MP was addressing in 1994 at the time of his death included: (i) rail privatization plans and the impact through job losses on communities, especially his own constituency of Eastleigh; (ii) arms dealings with Saudi Arabia, especially with his previous intelligence gathered as an economics journalist for esteemed publications; (iii) the UK military industry; (iv) homosexuality among senior government Ministers, as revealed by British footballer Fasanu; (v) personal relationship and planned marriage to his fiancée (Julie Kirkbride) who at the time was a political journalist. 4. Stephen Milligan was also appointed as Parliamentary Private Secretary to Jonathan Aitken, Arms Minister and this position must have required that he came ‘up to speed’ on international arms trade and indeed its relation to bribery and corruption across jurisdictions. Milligan’s experience and knowledge as a former high-level political and economics journalist must have been of huge benefit to government minister Jonathan Aitken who was later imprisoned for perjury. 5. Regarding Stephen Milligan’s death in 1994, the Guardian newspaper in their immediate obituary said that ‘The death of one of the government's most outspoken and loyal supporters will pose a stiff electoral test for the Tories to surmount. He was on the left of the Tory party - he had even had a brief flirtation with the SDP when it was formed - and was a noted Euro-enthusiast… the death of one of the government's most outspoken and loyal supporters will pose a stiff electoral test for the Tories to surmount. Regarding Stephen Milligan’s sudden and unexpected death in 1994, MP David Willetts (Conservative, Havant) said in March 2015, in his address in the House of Commons. ‘…The inevitable ups and downs and triumphs and disasters of politics are among the great features of this place. There are colleagues in all parts of the House who are tolerant and understanding. There are friendships that keep the downs as well as the ups of politics in perspective. Having entered the House in 1992, I think particularly of two good friends, Judith Chaplin and Stephen Milligan, who both died within two years of being elected; that loss stayed with me for a long time...’ 6. On 28 February 2000, in the House of Commons, at Column 106, Mr Mike Hancock (Portsmouth) said, on the deaths of Michael Colvin and of Stephen Milligan MP: ‘I knew Michael Colvin for nearly 30 years, from when he was first elected to Hampshire county council. During my time as leader of that council, he and the late former Member of Parliament for Eastleigh, Stephen Milligan, were usually the only Members of Parliament who readily supported the council when necessary. Michael Colvin supported many ventures in the county of Hampshire. He will be missed here, in his constituency, and in Europe, and I stress that Hampshire has lost a staunch supporter. I am sure that the county will at some stage want to record its regret at his death and its deepest appreciation of the part that he played in its life....’ -/- Mike Hancock had, like Stephen Milligan, served on the Select Committee on Defence. It is interesting that he mentioned Stephen Milligan’s support as MP for Eastleigh when Milligan had only been so appointed a couple of years before his sudden death, as compared to 30 years of support from Mike Colvin. 7. Mr Andrew Robathan (for Blaby) said in the House of Commons Hansard Debates on 27 January1997, (Column 62) (on the registering of sex offenders): ‘I remember the death of my honourable friend Stephen Milligan, who represented Eastleigh. The press reports of the time stated that each Metropolitan police station had a police officer in the pay of newspapers. I do not know whether that is true, but I am aware that the police are not renowned for being entirely secure with their information…’ This statement is mischievous and it has been demonstrated time and time again, as being untrue, especially during the recent press inquiry leading to the four-volume Leveson Report, published in November 2012, into phone hacking and the ethics and culture of the UK media, pursuant to section 26 of the Inquiries Act 2005, and ordered by the House of Commons to be printed on 29 November 2012, ISBN: 9780102981063, by the Stationery Office Limited on behalf of the Controller of Her Majesty’s Stationery Office. In Volume 4 of the 2012 Leveson Report, chapter 4 concluded on the Press Complaints Commission (‘PCC’) and its effectiveness and revealed that the PCC does not initiate its own investigations other than those ‘needed to head off criticism of the press or self-regulation- or to accept complaints from third parties across the board and on a transparent basis… and the report states that ‘the resources of the police are limited’ in terms of being able to fully inspect the Press and media reports. (shrink)

In this essay, I argue that Antigone talks about the transgression of the edict and about her death as an issue within the politics of Thebes. As Antigone’s appropriation of key-words such as φίλος, έχθρός, φιλία, δίκη, ἄρχεΐν and νόμος shows, the heroine displays a political understanding of her own acts in several passages of the play. In my reading, Antigone’s political representation of her deeds is deeply rooted in her view of death as a free choice.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Into the Jaws of Yama, Lord of Death: Buddhism, Bioethics, and DeathDamien KeownInto the Jaws of Yama, Lord of Death: Buddhism, Bioethics, and Death. By Karma Lekshe Tsomo. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2006. Pp. 270.An anecdote recounted in this work gives an insight into the present state of Buddhist bioethics. The author relates how she asked the spiritual director of a Tibetan centre in Honolulu (...) whether he thought it was a good idea to donate one’s organs at the time of death. He immediately replied in the affirmative. When asked if the removal of the organs would disturb the dying process, he responded that it would be okay since the doctors could “wait for a few days.” On being informed that the organs had to be removed immediately to save the life of the recipient he “expressed alarm” and changed his mind, advising that for an ordinary Buddhist practitioner organ donation might not be advisable after all (p. 160).The fact that Tibetan lamas are giving ethical advice on organ donation without even a layman’s knowledge of the medical procedures involved suggests that Buddhist teachers have a lot to learn about adapting traditional teachings to modern contexts. If the problem were simply that many lack scientific knowledge, this could probably be resolved in the short to medium term. The deeper problem, however, is that Buddhism as a tradition lacks the ethical infrastructure needed to address moral dilemmas, particularly those of the complex kind presented by contemporary scientific and medical developments. Despite their undoubted acumen in certain branches of philosophy (notably metaphysics), Buddhist thinkers of the past have consistently failed to probe the moral foundations of their teachings or to establish a theoretical foundation in terms of which moral dilemmas can be analyzed. Not a single treatise on moral philosophy was produced by any of the classical scholars cited in this volume as authorities. Not surprisingly, the legacy of this neglect is that the voice of Buddhism has been almost completely silent with respect to the kinds of ethical issues addressed in this book.The present work commendably seeks to remedy this absence of information on Buddhist bioethics. This is only the second book ever to attempt such a task, the first being my Buddhism and Bioethics, published over ten years ago in 1996 (reissued by Palgrave in 2002). In the intervening period there have been many scientific [End Page 157] advances, such as cloning and genetic engineering, both of which receive attention in the volume under review. While my own approach sought to build bridges by translating Buddhist concepts into the vocabulary of contemporary bioethics, the present volume holds more tightly to the traditional teachings of Tibetan Buddhism. Accordingly, while the concepts and terminology used will be familiar to those inside the tradition, I am not sure to what extent it will facilitate dialogue with bioethicists and clinicians, for whom the colorful and somewhat medieval facets of these teachings may at times seem esoteric.Before discussing the ethical issues further, it should be pointed out that less than half of the book (chapters 8–11) is devoted directly to bioethics. The first seven chapters are for the most part an account of topics in Mahayana philosophy (such as no-self, dependent origination, and emptiness) and descriptions of the beliefs and practices of Tibetan Buddhism surrounding death. These include meditational practices relating to death and the notion of the post-mortem intermediate state (bardo). Somewhat oddly, chapter 5, titled “Foundations of Buddhist Ethics,” has almost nothing to say about ethics: after a short but potentially interesting section titled “Buddhist Definitions of Life and Death,” it veers off into a lengthy summary of Madhyamaka, Vijnanavada, and Tathagatagarbha doctrines.Tibetan teachings about death have been summarized in numerous popular volumes in recent years, and it is unclear why such an extended treatment of them is presented again here. The opening sentence of chapter 8 suggests this was necessary to “set the stage for an exploration of bioethical issues from Buddhist points of view,” but the bulk of this material has little connection with bioethics. In particular, it is not clear how it is... (shrink)

While there may be a place in some contexts for high handed, “blanket” legislative prohibitions on dissenting views of what constitutes death, the paper under consideration does not describe such a contextThis stimulating and provocative paper by Professor Appel, Defining death: when physicians and families differ, asks us to consider “whether patients’ families should be permitted to opt out of widely accepted definitions of death in favour of their own standards”. This is a striking question in many ways. It reminds (...) us that, as a simple description of fact, there are indeed different standards for human death in so far as different groups or communities have accepted and continue to accept varying notions of what constitutes human death. The question’s reference to “opting out” suggests, perhaps reasonably, that it seems prima facie odd to think of adopting a definition of death as being a matter of individual choice. The reference to “permission” invites us to suppose limitations, primarily legal, upon the extent to which such a choice could be tolerated. Also, the question ascribes to certain “definitions of death” the authority of being widely accepted. The definitions thus favoured are, we learn, the various formulations of death referring to the state of the brain, chief among them “whole brain death” although the author is troublingly vague over whether all such formulations are morally, legally, or conceptually equivalent; and the relevant communities of acceptance turn out to consist of many—but, as the author admits, not all—physicians labouring under varying and inconsistent jurisdictions in the United States.My preface to the criticisms that follow is a …. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Helping a Muslim Family to Make a Life–and–Death Decision for Their Beloved Terminally Ill FatherBahar BastaniI live in a city in the Midwest with a population of around two million people. There are an estimated 2,000 Iranians living in this city, the vast majority of which belong to Shia sect of Islam. [End Page 190] However, the vast majority is also not very religious. Over the past two decades (...) that I have been living in this city, professionally in the capacity of a physician and university faculty at a school of medicine, and socially as one of the community leaders with a particular role in religious matters, I have acquired the trust of my community. Following one of my yearly routine travels to my homeland, Iran, I had just returned to work when I received a phone call from one of the Iranian community members. He informed me that his father was very ill and was hospitalized, and that the physicians had introduced the idea of stopping life support. The family was experiencing a significant emotional, moral and religious dilemma as to whether they could consent to this. I was requested by the patient’s children to help them make the right decision.I requested that the oldest son, who had called me, to ask the three other siblings and their mother to be present at the bedside of the patient that night, so that we could discuss the matters face–to–face. That same night, all requisite family members and myself gathered at the bedside of this 88–year–old husband and father, who had developed multi–organ failure, which commenced with an infection following a heart valve replacement, followed by bacteremia and sepsis. Moreover, the patient was hypotensive, had developed respiratory failure requiring intubation and artificial ventilation, and had also developed hematologic coagulation abnormalities secondary to sepsis. Because of the sepsis, hypotension, and multiple drugs, including antibiotics and vasopressors, his kidneys had also failed, and there was a need to start hemodialysis if his life was to be maintained. After speaking with the intensive care physicians who were taking care of this elderly gentleman, it became clear to me that further care was futile, and there was absolutely no hope for him to recover from his multiple organ failure. I presented all the facts that I had acquired to the family members, and expressed my own viewpoint that I agreed with those physicians and that further care of their beloved, terminally ill husband and father was futile and only extended his dying. My assurances made it easier for the family members, particularly for his four sons who were present, to come to the decision to withdraw life support. After I informed the intensive care physicians of the family’s decision, the patient was heavily sedated with morphine, and the intravenous fluids, antibiotics, vasopressors, and the ventilator machine were all stopped. Over the next several minutes, the patient developed agonal breathing, his blood pressure dropped to zero, and his heart stopped. During the last few minutes of his life, I held the hands of the family members, we all prayed Islamic prayers to bless his soul while departing from his body. The next day, I supported the family with funeral services that included the Islamic prayers for the dead, the ceremonial religious washing of the body of the deceased, and the ceremonial religious burial.The dilemma that this family faced was multi-factorial: (1) the children had spent all of their adult life in America, and were unfamiliar with Islamic end of life and funeral traditions; (2) they had been asked by their father’s physicians to make a decision regarding the withdrawal of life support, which posed a moral and ethical dilemma; (3) they did not know whether it was religiously acceptable to withdraw life support; and (4) they did not know what type of funeral service would be acceptable to the religious beliefs of their deceased father.My presence as a trusted community leader, physician and religious leader was reassuring to the family members that the decision to stop life support for their loved one with a terminal illness and multiple organ... (shrink)

Love is not stronger than death. In Death and Time Levinasreminds us that, contrary to how it is often quoted or remembered, The Song of Solomonsays that love is as strong as death not stronger than it . Love doesnot conquer death, it does not give to loss a sense which makes it bearable. And yetLevinas goes on to describe the claim that love is stronger than death as a ‘privilegedformula’ , suggesting that even if it is nottrue it is (...) worth saying and believing all the same. He refers to deliberately paradoxicalformulations by Vladimir Jankélévitch according to which love, thought, freedom andGod are all stronger than death, whilst death is also stronger than all of them . So Levinas suggests that love isstronger than death, death is stronger than love, and each is as strong as the other.There is no triumph of one over the other. Against Heidegger, Levinas insists that thedeath which concerns me is not my own so much as that of the beloved other. The deathof the beloved makes of me a guilty survivor, bereft of the possibility of dialogue with thedeceased. But even as I am torn apart in grief, death does not conquer love any morethan love conquers death. Death is not pure nothingness; something persists. Love is as strong as death. (shrink)

My main purpose in this article is to establish the meaning of a ‘good death’ when death is self-chosen. I will take as my point of departure the new notion of ‘self-euthanasia’ and the corresponding practice that has evolved in the Netherlands in recent years. Both physician-euthanasia and self-euthanasia refer to an ideal process of a good death, the first being ultimately the physician's responsibility, while the second is definitely the responsibility of the individual choosing to die. However, if we (...) also accept the existence of a fundamental moral difference between ending another person's life and ending your own life, and if we accept this moral difference to be also relevant to the normatively laden good death, then this difference represents a strong reason for preferring self-euthanasia to physician-euthanasia. (shrink)

My goal in this paper is to counter an increasingly common interpretation of the most famous moment in Hegel's thought - the struggle for recognition. Specifically, through a close reading of the movement from self-conscious desire to the moment of struggle, I seek to refute three key claims: a) that self-consciousness finds itself, qua determining center, challenged by another desire, b) that self-consciousness responds to this challenge by seeking to somehow subjugate the other as determining desire, and c) that self-consciousness (...) risks its own life primarily as a consequence of seeking the death of the other. I close with some (somewhat speculative) comments on the import of this reversal for understanding the role of recognition in Hegel's thought. Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}. (shrink)

Within the framework of broader processes in Latin America Argentina has seen a progressive policing of the governance of security. Criminal policies in recent decades have focused on police militarization, increased incarceration, spatial segregation and judicial expansion that especially affect the sectors that are economically most impoverished. I am interested in showing, from ethnographic cases, how the dynamics of delinquency mainly affect young men from popular sectors, both residents and police. Each one of the deaths and disappearances with which I (...) have been working in my investigations reflects these complex daily frames of the economy defined as “illegal.” In these contexts we usually see young people’s mothers who are responsible for generating complaints and patrimonializing death, thus confronting the hegemonic meanings that stigmatize them, making it possible to narrate them “from below” and endowing them with their own emotions, versions and experiences that the relatives mobilize around them. (shrink)

Using the work of Emmanuel Levinas, this article sheds light on Charlie Chaplin's The Circus, a piece that so far eluded the critics, despite its immense popularity with theater viewers. I show that it is not Chaplin's lack of inventiveness that makes the Tramp risk his life on the tightrope 'for nothing'. It is, on the contrary, Chaplin's intuitive sense that makes him believe, anticipating Levinas, that it is human and simple for a person to help another for no benefit. (...) It is this point that cinema-goers understood more easily than we, scholars, may think. Starting with The Circus I demonstrate that this film, which critics have underestimated due to its 'pointless' ending, becomes meaningful once interpreted as promoting radical for-the-other ethics. My argument about The Circus is supported by close reading as well as Chaplin's own remarks and his later talkie Limelight in which similar ideas are expressed more openly through language and through the ending scene, with the protagonist dying on stage, to the sounds of roaring laughter of the audience. (shrink)

Because pluralism at its heart is an epistemic problem in philosophy, what is at issue in discussions of philosophical pluralism are the definitions of who counts as a knower and what counts as knowledge. In this philopoetic article, in which philosophic claims are interwoven with poetic and narrative recountings of my own experiences with racist patriarchal violence in the discipline, I argue for an epistemic approach to creating pluralism in philosophy through the satisfaction of seven conditions. These conditions require, at (...) minimum, that we consider the importance of hiring multiply-positioned persons; that we critique patriarchy and white hegemonic discourses; that we rethink assumptions about epistemic credibility; and that we dispense with “perverse dialogues.” Finally, we must encourage “true dialogue” and create a “new dialogic” in philosophy. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reply to My CriticsMargaret Watkins (bio)Science is related to wisdom as virtuousness is related to holiness; it is cold and dry, it has not love and knows nothing of a deep feeling of inadequacy and longing. It is as useful to itself as it is harmful to its servants, insofar as it transfers its own character to them and thereby ossifies their humanity. As long as what is meant (...) by culture is essentially the promotion of science, culture will pass the great suffering human being by with pitiless coldness, because science sees everywhere only problems of knowledge and because within the world of the sciences suffering is really something improper and incomprehensible, thus at best only one more problem.1When Nietzsche writes these words in “Schopenhauer as Educator” in 1874, nearly a century after Hume’s death, he is not using “science” (Wissenschaft) to refer only to what we now know as the natural sciences. Indeed, as another essay in the Untimely Meditations makes clear, history is as much, if not more, in Nietzsche’s sights as biology or physics. He is naming a peculiar irony here: in the quest for a certain kind of progress—the progress of knowledge—we can end up killing any hope of progress for life. Certain methods of historical study are forms of enquiry whose spiritless effect is to “let the dead bury the living.”2 Our relentless quest to catalog and preserve the old robs us of the higher ways we might learn from it, or overcome it. We “historians of philosophy” can do this by reading past philosophers as dead artifacts, focusing intently on how they were responding to their particular contexts and pursuing their own projects. As indispensable as such study is, it can kill the texts’ potential to continue to inspire and inform philosophical thought of our own. [End Page 163]In writing The Philosophical Progress of Hume’s “Essays,” my hope was to counteract this tendency in myself and in readers of Hume—to show that these works often neglected by contemporary philosophers are still capable of inspiring life-giving, generative philosophical thought. (I do not say they are of more than “mere” historical interest; abusing the study of history with such a pernicious adverb runs counter to every fiber of my being.) Such thought need not be optimistic, encouraging, or even morally admirable at every step. It need simply inspire our own thought, activate that love of truth that Hume says can never “be carried to too high a degree,” or (preferably and) show us how that truth matters for human life (EHU 5.1).3My attempts to achieve this aim have two primary modes: showing that the Essays can inspire vital philosophical reflection and arguing that they are themselves philosophical or works of philosophy. To put my cards on the table: the enemies within (and without) that run counter to this effort are the tendency to put a piece of philosophical writing under a microscope (whose lens might be analytic or historical) without ever asking why it matters, and the tendency to dismiss the writing as philosophical because it does not fit neatly into one of the current categories of our discipline or our understanding of “the” early modern philosophical project.I am therefore pleased that both my generous interlocutors, Jacqueline Taylor and Andre Willis, recognize my attempt to extend as well as explain Hume’s insights. There is far too much insight in their own contributions for me to do justice to. I will therefore limit my discussion to three main topics: the notion of Humean public spirit I attempt to elucidate in the book, the related problems of analytic distance, and the pressing question of the difference between Hume’s projects in other philosophical works—especially the two Enquiries—and his projects in the Essays.Although there is no essay called “Of Public Spirit,” it is still a significant concept for the Essays. The initial advertisement to the 1741 volume of Essays, Moral and Political included this observation: “Public Spirit, methinks, shou’d engage us to love the Public, and to bear an equal Affection to all our Country-Men; not... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Some of My Mother’s ThingsLaurie Sieverts Snyder (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View (...) full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolution Click for larger view View full resolutionSome of My Mother’s Things is an ongoing series of photographs of collections from my parents’ household. My mother, born in Danzig in 1908 and raised in Frankfurt, died in 1993 in Ithaca, New York. She was Jewish, but she never attended a synagogue or celebrated Jewish holidays. My father, born in Leipzig in 1906 and raised in Jena, died in Ithaca in 1979. He was not Jewish. In the United States, they became members of the Society of Friends.My parents emigrated to the United States in May 1938 with my two older brothers, who were no longer allowed to attend nursery school because of their half-Jewish status. My grandmother stayed behind, at her own request, and my parents made every effort to bring her to the United States. But she died in Frankfurt in December 1940. This tragedy pervaded my childhood and still haunts me as I play her music with her annotations or set the table on tablecloths that she embroidered. I also photograph her things: the bandages that she knitted and labeled, letters that she wrote, and the childhood letters she saved of her only daughter, my mother.My mother saved things: keys to every cabinet and drawer, suitcases, and doors. All her eyeglasses. She dug up the dahlias in the fall, stored them in a baby bathtub, and replanted them in the spring. She was an enthusiastic gardener. She was a violinist and her mother a pianist. The albums of music are now crumbling and brittle. Her music friends continue to use her music. The tablecloths, dozens of them, are mended and stained. I use a large square damask tablecloth as a bed sheet.I am always amazed at the things they brought with them when they emigrated by ship: furniture, rugs, books, linens, letters, toys, photographs, dishes, pots and pans. Then I remember that they could not bring money, so they brought everything else: including a box of bandages, one labeled in an early script: “a clean breast cloth from the beginning of the 19th century.” The label is sewn onto the linen cloth.After my mother’s death, I went through boxes of photographs. I found one yellow Kodak envelope, labeled in my mother’s handwriting: “Helmut’s ‘Weltreise.’” In the envelope were photographs of Daddy’s trip to America in 1937 when he was searching for a job and a place to move with his little family. He traveled by boat through Cuba, Mexico, and the Panama Canal to California and back across the United States by train. In the envelope are snapshots of my father, looking very handsome, age 31, standing at the ship’s rail with an attractive young woman. The photograph is labeled on the verso, in his handwriting, “meine kleine Freundin, Patricia Hays”—this is not my mother. My mother was in Frankfurt, waiting to hear where they would go, and during that time she lost her third baby.My mother wrote letters almost every day, and she kept a carbon copy on onionskin of each of her letters. She started writing letters as early as 1913. Most of the letters are in German. I don’t speak or write German, yet I feel compelled to store these relics of times past. When I traveled in Germany, I tried to speak German, but the words stuck in my throat.Related Articles: ImagesLaurie Sieverts Snyder Laurie Sieverts Snyder is a photographer and professor at... (shrink)

This final volume of Martin Buber's work contains a selection of his poetry and prose written between 1902 and 1964 made by Buber himself a few months before his death in 1965. As the original German title, "Nachlese", implies, Buber saw these writings as the "gleanings" of a rich philosophical harvest and as a "testament" to his own beliefs.

This final volume of Martin Buber's work contains a selection of his poetry and prose written between 1902 and 1964 made by Buber himself a few months before his death in 1965. As the original German title, Nachlese, implies, Buber saw these writings as the "gleanings" of a rich philosophical harvest and as a "testament" to his own beliefs.