This research explored how (a) information regarding consequences and (b) personal information regarding the potential victim influences perceptions of moral intensity and ethical behavioral intent. An experimental vignette research design was used and 314 professional managers participated. The results of the study indicated that personal information impacted ethical behavioral intent through its influence on perceptions of proximity. In contrast, consequential information''s impact depended on the presence of personal information or prior knowledge. Implications for management and future ethical research are discussed.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 151-154 [Access article in PDF] Book Review The Happiness Project: Transforming the Three Poisons that Cause the Suffering We Inflict on Ourselves and Others The Happiness Project: Transforming the Three Poisons that Cause the Suffering We Inflict on Ourselves and Others. By Ron Leifer, M.D. Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion, 1997.313 pp. This book focuses mostly on Buddhism and psychotherapy, but it ranges widely and (...) includes many reflections on Christianity. Today there are many good books that compare Buddhism with Western psychology, but this one is not to be missed by anyone interested in the topic. Leifer (a former colleague and friend of Ernest Becker, who wrote TheDenial ofDeath) is obviously a very experienced psychiatrist, with deep knowledge of psychoanalytic theory to supplement his many years of practice [End Page 151] as a therapist. This book is many things: a primer on demythologized Buddhism; a superior "self-help" book; a history of psychotherapy, including a critique of its modern medicalization; a speculative account of the evolution of human consciousness; and, not least, the most insightful interpretations of the Job, Oedipus, and Eden myths that I have encountered. The prose style is lucid, and only space limitations keep me from quoting it at length.The title turns out to be ironic, since our Happiness Projects are the main source of our unhappiness. Our selfish strivings for happiness are, paradoxically, the main cause of the suffering we inflict on ourselves and others.What we "fail to see" (avidya)is not some great mysterious wisdom. "The core of the esoteric knowledge we seek consists of secrets we hide from ourselves. We hide from them because they are not what we want them to be. The world is not what we want it to be. Life is not what we want it to be. Others are not what we want them to be. We are not ourselves what we want to be. We hide from these truths because they mystify and terrify us" (12). The basic "secret" of happiness is that the three poisons--greed, ill will, and ignorance--are the source of our pain and suffering, by creating rebounding karmic ripples. The ego is a trickster who is continually the victim of his own trickery. True happiness can only be the product of an inner transformation that changes our habitual patterns of thought and action, enabling us to "relax into existence." Leifer's psychologized Buddhism is a therapeutic path cleansed of the mystical and paranormal; there is no place here for psychic powers or any transcendental salvation (nirvana is not discussed). The focus throughout is on how we are bedeviled by our own desires.The book is organized into four main parts. The first offers Leifer's understanding of the first two Buddhist truths. The second part, "Western Views of Suffering," includes profound interpretations of Job and Oedipus Rex. Job's suffering illustrates the first truth, that life is suffering, and his patience is virtuous, even heroic, in its refusal to demand that life be different than it is--an endurance that allows him to avoid making life worse: "Patience is the willingness to suffer without aggression" (131).The key to the Oedipus story is in his answer to the Sphinx's riddle: humans are the creatures who walk on four legs as infants, on two legs as mature adults, and then on three legs (with a cane) in old age. The riddle is a metaphor for the truths of our impermanence, old age and death. But Oedipus cannot accept it. "From a Buddhist point of view, the story of Oedipus is a metaphor for neurotic mind. Oedipus was the victim of his own grasping ego--of his desires and aggressions. His fate was sealed by his own efforts to escape it. The source of Oedipus' pain and tragedy were his own ignorance, passion, and aggression: the three poisons" (135). His desire for Mom is better understood as a symbol of human desire generally: our refusal to grow up... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 321-323 [Access article in PDF] Frederick J. Streng Book Award David Loy Interview The 1999 winner of the Frederick J. Streng Book Award is David R. Loy, professor on the Faculty of International Studies at Bunkyo University in Chigasaki, Japan. Professor Loy received the award for his book, Lack and Transcendence: The Problem of Death and Life in Psychotherapy, Existentialism, and Buddhism, published by Humanities (...) Press (New Jersey) in 1996. The book places Western patterns of thought developed in tandem with Christian ideas into dialogic contact with Buddhism. It is thus a very Buddhist book, but a signal contribution to the practice of Buddhist-Christian dialogue. Buddhist-Christian Studies asked David about his writing of the volume.Buddhist-Christian Studies: Why did you write this book?David Loy: It was the product of an existential crisis, both intellectual and personal. My father, who had always been healthy and full of life, suddenly became ill with pancreatic cancer. Then my Zen teacher Yamada Koun had a bad fall that led to his death a year later. Not long before that my relationship with him and the Sanbo Kyodan had become somewhat problematic. This threatened my 'spiritual ground'. Finally, I was without a job. All this gave me plenty of time not only to sit intensively but also to read widely everything I could find on death and related issues.Did you think that sitting and studying would lead to a book?I didn't know. I could feel something gestating. I realized something was needed in this area. I was (and still am) very impressed by the last two books of Ernest Becker, but despite their brilliance his notion of death-denial is a little off-center from a Buddhist perspective. Fear of death projects our problem into the future, while the groundlessness of our sense-of-self accounts better for our sense-of-lack right here and now.What was the final trigger for doing the book?Another Zen teacher suggested that I try to write a Zen teisho [sermon or talk]. I sat down but after a few lines so many other thoughts began to bubble up that I couldn't write them down fast enough. There was no obvious or immediate logical connection among them, but they kept coming. This went on for about two, almost non-stop, days. After that the thoughts slowed down. I read over the notes I'd written, which led to more ideas, and then I began to perceive their relationship. After five days or so I had a detailed outline for the book, and the real work began. [End Page 321]What kind of response to the book, both positive and negative, have you received?There have not been many reviews, but they have generally been positive. It's not an easy book to evaluate: it brings together many different thinkers and traditions in order to address many different issues. In the process it attempts what is almost a grand synthesis of Buddhism, existentialism, and psychotherapy around the notion of our 'sense of lack', which I argue motivates us all. This involves close readings of Freud, Heidegger, Nietzsche, Nagarjuna, and many others. Unfortunately, the print is small and not easy to read, the cover is ugly, and the price is too high. For all these reasons readers have my sympathies! But there are some readers for whom the book really 'clicks'. I'm pleased that it seems to work on the existential as well as the intellectual level, for such people.After several years of reflection, would you write it any differently today?Yes, probably. The first thing I would do is take out the last chapter "Transcendence East and West," which was an afterthought and doesn't really fit in very well. As published, the chapter takes the concept of 'lack' into a new dimension which needs to be worked out much more carefully than I did in the book. It argues that, in place of the usual East-West dichotomy, it is more insightful to view South Asian Indian- influenced cultures as in some ways... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Psychoanalysis and Buddhism: An Unfolding DialogueDavid R. LoyPsychoanalysis and Buddhism: An Unfolding Dialogue. Edited by Jeremy D. Safran. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003, Pp. xvii + 443.In the burgeoning literature on Buddhism and psychoanalysis/psychotherapy, Psychoanalysis and Buddhism: An Unfolding Dialogue stands out. True to its subtitle, the format is designed to encourage genuine dialogue. Following an excellent introduction by the editor, Jeremy D. Safran, all of its nine chapters (...) are by experienced therapists who are also committed to Buddhist practice; several of them are teachers within their respective traditions. Each chapter is followed by the commentary of an established psychoanalyst (many of them associated with the journal Psychoanalytic Dialogues), and after that there is a reply by the original chapter author. The conversations are given plenty of space to develop; several chapters are over fifty pages long. In most cases the commentators rise to the occasion, with sympathetic but trenchant interrogations. The result is a fascinating discussion that raises the interaction between Buddhism and psychology to a higher level of intensity and insight.Safran's introduction looks at the different cultural contexts of psychoanalysis and Buddhism. He focuses on their own internal tensions, especially a shared one between agnosticism and faith. Recent psychoanalysis has shifted from a rationalistic, ego-oriented approach toward a relational and constructivist understanding of [End Page 363] the multiple self, a perspective more open to various narratives. "It has become clear that psychoanalysis is not a science in the same sense that physics or chemistry are, but rather a secular form of spirituality. In some ways it functions to fill the void once filled by religion" (p. 2). This shift to a therapy of faith and commitment highlights a similar tension within Buddhism, for example between the rationalist approach of Nāgārjuna's Karikas and the devotionalism of Pure Land Buddhism. In contrast to the classical Freudian emphasis on the reality principle controlling the pleasure principle and the Mādhyamikas' radical deconstruction of all narratives, letting go of the need to understand and control can lead to awe and reverence in the face of life's mystery. The advantage of a comparison between psychoanalysis and Buddhism is that each can help the other avoid crystallizing into an orthodoxy that tends to lose its liberative power.Several of the contributors refer to Freud's recommendation that the analyst keep an "evenly-suspended attention," and they emphasize how their Buddhist practice helps them to do this. In chapter 4, "An Analyst's Surrender," Sara Weber describes a difficult case study that began to flourish when there was "a shift in the nature of holding." Instead of trying to "fix" the patient, she surrendered herself to deeper, lesser-known areas of her patient's being and her own. She refers to Lacan: although we need others as mirrors, there is always an element of illusion in any organized meaning we frame for ourselves. The solution is to employ models loosely, allowing one's therapeutic techniques as well as one's clients to be in flux. She concludes by emphasizing that the analyst's role as "holder" of the patient "is insufficient unless we see it as a special case of that more profound faith in being that is temporarily embodied in ourselves" (p. 189). In chapter 3, "The Dissolving of Dissolving Itself," Robert Langan offers a personal and phenomenological meditation that plays with multiple perspectives as a way to reflect on the "in-between," the openness that both Buddhism and psychoanalysis at their best encourage: keeping room in the analytic process for paradox and contradiction, for gaps and emptiness.In chapter 6, Barry Magrid eloquently defends the need for analytic work as well as Buddhist practice. "Too often, it seems that both students and teachers have mastered their pain but succumbed to their impulses, experienced a oneness with all beings but remained in conflict with their families, discovered the emptiness of the self but continued to abuse their authority, found peace on their cushions but not in their lives" (p. 257). Yet we should not conclude that Buddhism and analysis are concerned with different aspects of our lives. "Like psychoanalysis, Zen practice is a... (shrink)

"By combining recent advances in the physical sciences with some of the novel ideas, techniques, and data of modern biology, this book attempts to achieve a new and different kind of evolutionary synthesis. I found it to be challenging, fascinating, infuriating, and provocative, but certainly not dull."--James H, Brown, University of New Mexico "This book is unquestionably mandatory reading not only for every living biologist but for generations of biologists to come."--Jack P. Hailman, Animal Behaviour , review of the first (...) edition "An important contribution to modern evolutionary thinking. It fortifies the place of Evolutionary Theory among the other well-established natural laws."--R.Gessink, TAXON. (shrink)

Recent history makes clear that the quantum leaps being made in technology are the leading edge of a groundswell of paradigm shifts taking place in science, politics, economics, social institutions, and the expression of cultural values. Indeed it is the simultaneity and interdependence of these changes occurring in every dimension of human experience and endeavor that makes the present so historically distinctive. The essays gathered here give voice to perspectives on the always improvised relationship between technology and cultural values from (...) Africa, the Americas, Asia, Australia, Europe, and the Pacific. Contributors: Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas, Roger T. Ames,Yoko Arisaka, Carl Becker, Francesca Bray, James Buchanan, Arindam Chakrabarti, Frank W. Derringh, Rolf Elberfeld, Charles Ess, Andrew Feenberg, Susantha Goonatilake, H. Jiuan Heng, Peter Hershock, Thomas P. Kasulis, George Khushf, David Farrell Krell, Joel J. Kupperman, William R. LaFleur, Lois Ann Lorentzen, David Loy, Joseph Margolis, Hans-Georg Möller, Robert Cummings Neville, Peimin Ni, Monica Atieno Opole, Kuruvilla Pandikattu SJ, Helen Petrovsky, Ramon Sentmartí, Kristin Shrader-Frechette, Vasanthi Srinivasan, Marietta Stepaniants, Vyacheslav S. Stiopin, Henk ten Have, Paul B.Thompson, Mary Tiles, David B.Wong. (shrink)

I would refer to the introductory paragraphs of J. Diggle's ‘Notes on Ovid's Tristia, Books I-II’ , 401–19). His list of modern editions does not include F. Della Corte, I Tristia , which I too have not seen. For Book IV we have an edition by T. J. de Jonge.

People who trust modern indexes will suppose that the name of Sex. Clodius, the disreputable henchman of Publius, comes twice in the Ad Atticum letters, 14. 13. 6 and 14. 13 A. 2. The manuscripts give it as follows.

R. Renehan's ingenious solutions to the problems of Symphosius 42. 1 and Anth. Lat. 207 in this journal, 471 f.) are much to be welcomed. On the other hand, I do not think that his defence of the manuscript reading in Anth. Lat. 24. 3 marcent post rorem violae, rosa perdit odorem holds water. Taking rorem as = rorem marinum he explains that ‘the poet is not presenting us with a piece of botanical information about the relative seasons of the (...) violet and rosemary; he means rather that all flowers wither and fade’. Actually, however, the poet on this showing does present information; and whether the information is botanically correct or not, that is an odd way to make his point. Stranger still is his choice of rosemary out of all the fading flowers of field and garden. It was bound to be I misunderstood. As Renehan indicates, ros = ros marinus is supported only by Virg. Georg. 2. 212–13, where the identity has been doubted, and Plin. HN 24. 100, where ex rore supra dicto refers back to ros marinum in 99. Renehan may well be the first reader not to take rorem as dew. And an evergeen shrub makes a singularly unfortunate illustration of floral decay, even though the shrub does produce a flower. Pliny classes it with herbs. (shrink)

The text of Quintus Curtius benefited greatly from Conrad Müller's edition of 1954 . In particular, his thorough investigation of Curtius' rhythms enabled him to settle many hitherto doubtful points. Problems remain, unsolved or undetected. In Curtius, as in other prose texts, scribal omissions are a prolific source of corruption, sometimes productive of interpolation. Most of the following notes postulate corruptions of this type.

The text of Quintus Curtius benefited greatly from Conrad Müller's edition of 1954. In particular, his thorough investigation of Curtius' rhythms enabled him to settle many hitherto doubtful points. Problems remain, unsolved or undetected. In Curtius, as in other prose texts, scribal omissions are a prolific source of corruption, sometimes productive of interpolation. Most of the following notes postulate corruptions of this type.

10. 2. lugentem timentemque custodire solemus, ne solitudine male utatur. Reynolds does not mention Haupt's conjecture amentemque, which is certainly on the right lines. Bereaved persons may need watching because in the violence of their grief they may do themselves an injury , and the same applies to madmen or to anyone suspected of suicidal inclinations custodio). It does not apply to persons afraid; they may sometimes be glad of company, but do not require surveillance. My only doubt is whether (...) amentem, seldom used of actual insanity, is the right word. Perhaps dementem or furentem, which makes a better match with the participle lugentem. (shrink)

Seneca ‘Rhetor’ was last critically edited by H. J. Müller in 1887; the editions of H. Bornecque and W. A. Edward lack an apparatus criticus, though the latter's notes give some attention to textual points. Whoever next addresses himself to the task can take heart from Eduard Norden : ‘der Text ist schwer korrupt, für Konjekturalkritik noch viel zu tun.’ It may be added that he will do a service by jettisoning a large proportion of what Konjekturalkritik has already produced-too (...) much of this nature in Müller's text and apparatus, to say nothing of later contributions, is merely depressing. (shrink)

Seneca ‘Rhetor’ was last critically edited by H. J. Müller in 1887; the editions of H. Bornecque and W. A. Edward lack an apparatus criticus, though the latter's notes give some attention to textual points. Whoever next addresses himself to the task can take heart from Eduard Norden : ‘der Text ist schwer korrupt, für Konjekturalkritik noch viel zu tun.’ It may be added that he will do a service by jettisoning a large proportion of what Konjekturalkritik has already produced-too (...) much of this nature in Müller's text and apparatus, to say nothing of later contributions, is merely depressing. (shrink)

10. 2. lugentem timentemque custodire solemus, ne solitudine male utatur. Reynolds does not mention Haupt's conjecture amentemque, which is certainly on the right lines. Bereaved persons may need watching because in the violence of their grief they may do themselves an injury, and the same applies to madmen or to anyone suspected of suicidal inclinations custodio). It does not apply to persons afraid; they may sometimes be glad of company, but do not require surveillance. My only doubt is whether amentem, (...) seldom used of actual insanity, is the right word. Perhaps dementem or furentem, which makes a better match with the participle lugentem. (shrink)

Few authors, I should suppose, get less expert treatment in this lexicon than Cicero, so far at least as his letters are concerned. That is largely because the editors chose to trust Tyrrell and Purser, to whom Cicero's Greek was no less full of pitfalls than his Latin. The following notes may be of help in the preparation of a tenth edition.

Cicero's use of the term is hardly a joke, and has to do with medicine, not logic. He says that his predecessor as governor of Cilicia, App. Claudius Pulcher, is like a doctor whose patient has been transferred to another practitioner, and who takes offence when the new man alters the treatment.

Few authors, I should suppose, get less expert treatment in this lexicon than Cicero, so far at least as his letters are concerned. That is largely because the editors chose to trust Tyrrell and Purser, to whom Cicero's Greek was no less full of pitfalls than his Latin. The following notes may be of help in the preparation of a tenth edition.

Cicero's use of the term is hardly a joke, and has to do with medicine, not logic. He says that his predecessor as governor of Cilicia, App. Claudius Pulcher, is like a doctor whose patient has been transferred to another practitioner, and who takes offence when the new man alters the treatment.

Few authors, I should suppose, get less expert treatment in this lexicon than Cicero, so far at least as his letters are concerned. That is largely because the editors chose to trust Tyrrell and Purser, to whom Cicero's Greek was no less full of pitfalls than his Latin. The following notes may be of help in the preparation of a tenth edition.

Critics, once so busy with Manilius, have left him alone since Housman's edition was completed a quarter of a century ago. Perhaps I shall seem rash to break the silence by challenging a few of his verdicts. I do so in no spirit of iconoclasm, but rather believing that Housman wrote for readers who will occasionally call him wrong—at their peril, and on their knees.

‘He was of Rutulian blood, born of a Saguntine mother; but he had Greek blood too, and by his two parents he combined the seed of Italy with that of Dulichium’. So Duff, and Ruperti's ‘Murrus matre Graia et patre Romano progenitus’ is not the whole story. To Silius Saguntine = Greek because, as Duff says, ‘men of Zacynthos had taken part in founding Saguntum’. prole = ‘with his children’—van Veen's Itala may well be right.

‘He was of Rutulian blood, born of a Saguntine mother; but he had Greek blood too, and by his two parents he combined the seed of Italy with that of Dulichium’. So Duff, and Ruperti's ‘Murrus matre Graia et patre Romano progenitus’ is not the whole story. To Silius Saguntine = Greek because, as Duff says, ‘men of Zacynthos had taken part in founding Saguntum’. prole = ‘with his children’—van Veen's Itala may well be right.

Offers a comprehensive nonmathematical treatment regarding the design and analysis of experiments, focusing on basic concepts rather than calculation of technical details. Much of the discussion is in terms of examples drawn from numerous fields of applications. Subjects include the justification and practical difficulties of randomization, various factors occurring in factorial experiments, selecting the size of an experiments, different purposes for which observations may be made and much more.

One of the arguments against conducting human subject trials in the Third World adopts a distributive justice principle found in a commentary of the CIOM'S Eighth Guideline for international research on human subjects. Critics argue that non-participant members of the community in which the trials are conducted are exploited because sponsoring agencies do not ensure that the products developed have been made reasonably available to these individuals. I argue that the distributive principle's wording is too vague and ambiguous to be (...) used to criticize any trial. Furthermore, the mere fact that an experiment does not fulfill this particular distributive justice principle does not entail that it is unethical. (shrink)