Discussion of the concept of evil in Indian philosophy.

Historian Arthur Herman traces the roots of declinism and shows how major thinkers, past and present, have contributed to its development as a coherent ideology of cultural pessimism. From Nazism to the Sixties counterculture, from Britain's Fabian socialists to America's multiculturalists, and from Dracula and Freud to Robert Bly and Madonna, this work examines the idea of decline in Western history and sets out to explain how the conviction of civilization's inevitable end has become a fixed part of the modern (...) Western imagination. Through a series of biographical portraits spanning the 19th and 20th centuries, the author traces the roots of declinism and aims to show how major thinkers of the past and present, including Nietzsche, DuBois, Sartre, and Foucault, have contributed to its development as a coherent ideology of cultural pessimism. (shrink)

THE PAPER ATTEMPTS TO RESCUE LEWIS'S DOCTRINE OF\nEXPRESSIVE LANGUAGE FROM THE SLOUGH INTO WHICH IT HAS\nLATELY BEEN FLUNG. THE PAPER DOES FOUR THINGS: PART I\nRECALLS LEWIS'S DOCTRINE OF EXPRESSIVE STATEMENTS\n('EXPRESSIVES'); PART II STATES THE VARIOUS CRITICISMS THAT\nHAVE BEEN SENT AGAINST THEM TOGETHER WITH CRITICISMS OF\nLEWIS'S CLAIMS THAT EXPRESSIVES WERE BOTH EMPIRICAL AND\nCERTAIN AND THAT THEY COULD SERVE AS ATOMS FOR HIS\nMOLECULAR 'TERMINATING JUDGMENTS', PART III DEMONSTRATES\nTHAT LEWIS'S EXPRESSIVES ARE REALLY SIMILES, SHARING ALL\nTHE PROPERTIES ATTRIBUTED TO SIMILES INCLUDING BEING\nCERTAIN, IN A (...) SIMILETIC WAY, AS WELL AS BEING EMPIRICAL;\nPART IV SHOWS THAT THE CRITICISMS STATED IN PART II SEEM TO\nREST ON A MISUNDERSTANDING OF EXPRESSIVES AND EXPRESSIVE\nLANGUAGE BUT THAT THEY CAN ALL BE MET BY EMPLOYING THE\nLANGUAGE MODEL OF SIMILE DEMONSTRATED IN PART III. (shrink)

Replaces communal altruism with communal egoism as a way of solving problems of too much violence and too little peace in the twenty-first century.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Imagining Karma, Ethical Transformation in Amerindian, Buddhist, and Greek RebirthA. L. HermanImagining Karma, Ethical Transformation in Amerindian, Buddhist, and Greek Rebirth. By Gananath Obeyesekere. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002. 448 pp.Gananath Obeyesekere, professor emeritus of anthropology at Princeton University, is probably one of the world's greatest living anthropologists. The proof of that assertion lies in this his latest work on comparative anthropology, a study of the concept (...) and practice of rebirth—"reincarnation" as he calls it—from ancient Greece and India to modern West Africa, Melanesia, and North America. In what follows let me briefly set forth what I understand his central thesis to be, the evidence for it, and the conclusions to be drawn from it. I will end with two very modest problems connected with this altogether intriguing and brilliant investigation into the doctrine of rebirth.As a modified structural anthropologist, Gananath Obeyesekere rejects the rationalist model structuralism of Claude Levi-Strauss. He follows instead the lead of two of his empiricist predecessors, Max Weber and Fernand Braudel, pointing out that structures, types, or models "are constructions of scholars, not universals waiting to be discovered" (p. 351). Consequently, as this book aptly proves, Obeyesekere's own "imagined" models are based on parole data following the actual language of the cultures being studied.Obeyesekere thus begins his book with an elementary rebirth structure based on such parole. He refers to this primitive, first structure as "rebirth eschatology," which entails the rebirth of a deceased's soul into the body of a newborn relative of the deceased but without any determining ethical component as found in the more sophisticated and complex "karmic eschatologies." Such ethically neutral kin group rebirths are found among certain small-scale societies in West Africa, the Trobriand Islands, the Northwest American coast tribes, and the Inuits (Eskimos). Obeyesekere [End Page 303] draws extensively on field studies of these groups to bolster his conclusions about them. This simple rebirth eschatology is non-Indic in origin, Obeyesekere claims, since no evidence of influences have been found between these practitioners of rebirth eschatology and work relating to the Indic religions (Hinduism and Buddhism). The entry of the soul into postdeath life, either in this world or the world of the ancestors, depends not at all, consequently, on one's this-worldly behavior such that "morality does not affect the fate of the soul after death" (p. 74).Obeyesekere turns next to the "transformation" of this rebirth eschatology. It occurs with the introduction of the concept of ethicization, "the processes whereby morally right or wrong action becomes a religiously right or wrong action that in turn affects a person's destiny after death" (p. 75). It is Obeyesekere's contention that when ethicization is systematically introduced into any rebirth eschatology the latter must logically transform itself into a so-called "karmic eschatology." In other words, this second topological model or conceptual structure, karmic eschatology, the new ethicized rebirth eschatology, says that the otherworld for the dead is not simply a way station for departed souls waiting to be reborn, but rather that otherworld is now a place of retribution and punishment. Kinship affiliation alone no longer determines who goes where after death but moral action does. My own guess is that rebirth eschatology was introduced to answer the question of why the grandchild resembles the deceased grandparent. Karmic eschatology, on the other hand, was probably introduced to solve a more complex and sophisticated puzzle: Why is it, if there really is justice in the universe, that the wicked never get appropriately punished and the good never get sufficiently rewarded? At this stage of transformation, the law of karma, or some other principle of universal justice, now says that everyone gets what's coming to them, either in this life or the next, and that rebirth is necessary to make that principle of justice workable.1 In arguing that "rebirth cannot be divorced from ethics; it looks as if it is generated from ethics" (p. 82), Obeyesekere would seem to concur that karmic eschatology was introduced to answer the question: Why do the wicked seem to prosper and the good appear to suffer?Following... (shrink)

Abstract In discussing the meaning of life in the Bhagavad Git? two obvious questions arise: first, what is the meaning of ?the meaning of life'?, and second, how does that meaning apply to the Bhagavad Git?? In Part I of this brief paper I will attempt to answer the first question by focusing on one of the common meanings of that phrase; in Part II, I will apply that very common meaning to the Bhagavad Git?; and in the third and (...) final part, I will point to a puzzle, the paradox of the jivanmukta, that would seem to follow from the discussion in the first two parts of this paper. My own feeling is that the concept of ?the meaning of life? is a Western invention [1]. This being so, perhaps it would be wise to probe for that concept and its meaning among Western authors. We turn first, then, to one ancient writer, Aristotle of Stagira, and conclude Part I with a modern writer also concerned with the meaning of life, Albert Camus. (shrink)

Abstract There is one assumption that is shared by practically all popular religious and philosophic systems, ancient and modern, Eastern and Western. In truth it may well be that it is this single assumption which makes such ?systems? possible. That shared assumption is the belief in a ?just universe?, i.e. ?just? in the sense of morally ordered, morally predictable and morally explainable. This assumption rests, as most assumptions must, on pragmatic grounds; that is to say, the assumption is retained or (...) used because it gets the users where they want to go, i.e. the assumption works. But if it could be shown that this assumption, aside from being useful, leads to insuperable logical or empirical problems, then this might be prima facie grounds for rejecting the assumption. Part I examines the historical roots of the assumption of a just universe. Part II, examines three implications that would seem to follow from the assumption that the universe, the world, is a just place in which to live. Part III explores the unacceptable consequences that are found in and that follow from these three implications and that necessitate the rejection of the assumption of the just universe of Part I. (shrink)

Edward Conze once observed of the thirty-eight books constituting the Praj p ramit S tras that their central message could be summed up in two sentences: (1) One should become a Bodhisattva (or Buddha-to-be), i.e. one who is content with nothing less than all-knowledge attained through the perfection of wisdom for the sake of all beings. (2) There is no such thing as a Bodhisattva or as all-knowledge or as a being or as the perfection of wisdom or as an (...) attainment. [1] It seems to me that Conze was profoundly correct, as far as he went, and that what he said of the Praj p ramit literary corpus might apply to other Mah y na S tras , as well. One test of this broad application of Conze's observation to the whole of the Mah y na scriptural tradition lies in a close reading of one of the Mah y na S tras from that tradition, the Saddharmapundarika S tra, “the scripture of the lotus blossom of the wonderful law”, or the Lotus S utra . The Lotus S tra not only makes Conze's point, as I shall try to show, but it goes further in offering a new middle path between the two summary sentences above. In doing this it brings forth a practical ethical-religious way for Buddhists and others to follow who will be caught in the sufferings and terrors of the 21st century. We shall refer to this way as “the way of the Lotus” or “the Lotus way”. In what follows I want to attempt three things. First, using Edward Conze's summary sentences above, I identify and explicate three ways to liberation in the Lotus Sutra , viz. the way of ethics and attachment, i.e. “the Bodhisattva way” ("One should become a Bodhisattva...”); next, the way of emptiness and unattachment, i.e. “the Buddha way” ("There is no such thing as a Bodhisattva...”); and, finally, the Lotus way wherein the Bodhisattva way and the Buddha way combine to form a single and powerful new way of liberation. This third way is indirectly referred to in the remark which Edward Conze makes in his summary of the Praj p ramit immediately following his previous two sentences: “To accept both of these contradictory facts is to be perfect”. [2] To accept the Bodhisattva way together with the Buddha way yields the Lotus way. Second, I demonstrate the significance of the Lotus way as a practical way of solving moral problems for Buddhists and others in the 21st century. Third, and finally, I raise and attempt to answer and solve several questions and puzzles about the Lotus way as a way to peace and liberation for Buddhists and others in the 21st century. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Looking to Learn: Museum Educators and Aesthetic EducationNancy Blume (bio), Jean Henning (bio), Amy Herman (bio), and Nancy Richner (bio)IntroductionMuseum education. Aesthetic education. How are they similar? How do they differ? How do they relate to each other? What are their goals? As museum educators working with classroom and art teachers, we are often asked these questions, and we ask them ourselves. “What do you DO?” is probably the (...) most frequently asked question of all, and the answer is complex. Even more complex is how these questions relate to the Rembrandt Project. Given that looking at original works of art is such a priority for museums and museum educators, how do we address the project’s reliance on technology? And how do these questions relate to the social studies and visual arts standards, [End Page 83] another major component of the project? How does the project relate to the work we do in our own museums? Writing collaboratively implies that we have certain areas of commonality; but we also have differences, which will be apparent in individual sections of this article: Jean Henning and Nancy Richner discuss the Nassau County Museum of Art, Nancy Blume writes about Asia Society, and Amy Herman explores the Frick Collection. Our focus will be the domain of museum education as that is what we know best, but there are inevitably areas where it overlaps and complements the domains of art education, aesthetic education, and social studies.Art Museum Education HistoryThe history of art museum education begins with the founding of museums in the United States during the commercial and industrial expansion that took place after the Civil War, between 1870 and 1929. The principles guiding American museums have always mirrored the values of American society. From the beginning of this country’s history, the fine arts have been viewed as elitist and thus of no value to the larger society. “To America,” Ben Franklin wrote in the late 1700s, “one school master is worth a dozen poets, and the invention of a machine or the improvement of an implement is of more importance than a masterpiece of Raphael.”1 Given such longstanding and deep-seated suspicion of art among Americans, it is not surprising that both the champions and the staff of art museums insisted on the practical educational benefits museums provided to the public.By the late nineteenth century, at the height of immigration and the emergence of a strong working class and labor movement, a social dimension was added to the mission of museum education. Art museums, like public libraries, were seen as venues for achieving social balance. By the early twentieth century an aesthetic agenda was finally joined to these social and pragmatic ones.2While museums have responded to the needs created by cyclical changes in social, economic, political, and intellectual life, today’s art museum educators still deal with the tension among the museum’s aesthetic, educational, and social missions; only the context and delivery modes of museum education have changed. Yet despite the shifting directions and priorities in museum education, there are certain basic and commonly accepted premises that museum educators have shared since the late nineteenth century. The 1984 Museums Commission on Museums for a New Century stated what has been the continuing premise of museum education since the late nineteenth century: learning in museums is based on objects and involves not only developing the ability to synthesize ideas and form opinions but also shaping an aesthetic and cultural sensibility.3 Another fundamental [End Page 84] assumption is that museums are institutions of visual instruction. Although each of the museum educators writing here represents a unique institution with unique approaches to looking at and finding meaning in art, we all agree on the importance of the original work of art as the basis for our work. It is the complexity of original artworks that enables them to play a dual role. One role is pragmatic, which requires meeting standards set by state and national governments for teaching critical thinking skills and improving literacy. The second role is aesthetic—namely, ways of helping students develop habits for aesthetic encounters that are an integral part... (shrink)