In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Operating Through HatredAndrew G. Shuman“You’re not cutting my ***ing neck. The cancer is in my ***ing mouth.”While many patient encounters are memorable, Mr. K’s introduction to the head and [End Page 20] neck surgical oncology clinic is indelibly imprinted into the minds of all of the clinicians present on that certain autumn morning. This was, quite simply, a man who resonated hate. He was rude and disruptive. He (...) insisted on an expedited workup “without any waiting.” He questioned the ethnicity and nationality of his care providers. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he did not appreciate my Jewish heritage—the swastika tattooed on his bicep underscored the point. He bragged about his recent incarceration for armed robbery. While my colleagues and I were tempted to simply refuse to assume his care, Mr. K had a bad problem—his recurrent tongue cancer required a major operation in order to offer him any hope for cure.Mr. K initially received an abbreviated course of radiation at an outside institution, which was limited by his non–compliance. While one might debate the wisdom of this decision in retrospect—in general, surgery is preferred for his type of tumor—the die was already cast. A heroic attempt at surgical salvage was now his only curative option. He previously sought care elsewhere... only to be fired by this original surgeon when Mr. K physically threatened him in the outpatient office during preoperative consultation. [It was the doctor’s fault for insulting him in the first place, Mr. K maintained... and no charges were filed.] We were, indeed, his last resort. Other than his recurrent cancer, Mr. K was robust; he was in his sixth decade, physically fit, and on the whole, fairly healthy. In the classic surgical lexicon, he was a reasonable surgical candidate. But was it reasonable to operate on such a person?I remember thinking, at the time, about our obligation to care for such an individual. Of course, being a medical professional carries with it many obligations, including a judicious assumption of personal risk. And, working in a tertiary care center begets the responsibility to assist referring clinicians in the management of difficult cases. Although professional obligations certainly have their limits, defining their bounds is decidedly more difficult. Paramount is creating an atmosphere of mutual trust and acceptance. Naturally, this was easier said than done in regard to Mr. K.Perhaps against our better judgment, we agreed to operate under the condition that he abide by strict behavioral ground rules, on our terms. We agreed upon the extent of the necessary operation (which indeed involved cutting his ***ing neck, much to his chagrin and reluctant acceptance). Mr. K promised to follow instructions for postoperative care. He assured us that he would not swear or yell (again). And, in the presence of hospital security, who reinforced our institutional policies regarding patient behavior, he guaranteed that he would not be verbally or physically violent or inappropriate, and would not make disparaging comments to other patients or staff. It seemed, at least, that we had an understanding.Needless to say, these rules were broken shortly after he awoke from surgery. I vividly remember being summoned from the OR when he threatened to murder his impressionable and terrified nurse a few days later, who would not acquiesce to his unreasonable demands. From that point onward, hospital security was deployed to his room regularly, and anything resembling a potential weapon was safeguarded. Any semblance of a mutual doctor–patient bond was shattered. At this point, everyone’s goal was simply to get Mr. K home.My visceral reactions to his behavior, while intense, were not unexpected, and fell in line with those of the entire team of clinicians caring for him. His antics brought his healthcare team together in collective unity (and condemnation). However, my surgical colleagues and I also felt somewhat guilty and responsible. While surgeons can choose to assume some degree of inherent personal danger in caring for a violent and angry patient, we also put the safety and soundness of the entire perioperative team in jeopardy, without necessarily seeking their input. But once we had decided to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's (...) most successful philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's (...) most successful philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

Volume 20, Issue 3, March 2020, Page 35-37.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's (...) most successful philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

Volume 20, Issue 7, July 2020, Page 77-80.

Volume 20, Issue 9, September 2020, Page 18-20.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.1 (2001) 77-99 [Access article in PDF] Malebranche's Distinction Between General and Particular Volitions Andrew Pessin "God needs no instruments to act," Malebranche writes in Search; "it suffices that He wills in order that a thing be, because it is a contradiction that He should will and that what He wills should not happen. Therefore, His power is His will." 1 God (...) acts by willing; so much is clear. But Malebranche goes further, especially in his Treatise, by asserting that (i) only in miracles and the initial creation does God act by "particular volitions," while (ii) God ordinarily acts in nature via laws or "general volitions." This distinction between general and particular volitions is central to Malebranche's theories of divine activity, theodicy, and occasionalism. Nevertheless, I will argue, it has been almost universally misunderstood.The two standard interpretations of Malebranche's expressions "general volition" and "particular volition" are these: (GC) A "general volition" for Malebranche is one whose content is general; a "particular volition" is one whose content is particular. [End Page 77](PC) All divine volitions have particular contents; but a "general volition" is one which is in accord with general laws, while a "particular volition" is one not in accord with general laws. 2Andrew Black offers the following two schemata for volition contents, where (B) also provides the general form of laws of nature: A: Let c be F at t. B: For all created substances x and y and for every time t1, if x is G at t1and x bears relation R to y then there is a time t2 such that t2 bears relation T to t1 and y is F at t2. 3(A) is "particular" insofar as it represents a particular state of affairs, involving a particular substance in a mode at a time; (B) is general in making no such reference. According to (GC), then, when Malebranche's God acts by "general volitions," He has volitions whose content is of the form of (B) (specifically, a law of nature); when He acts by particular volitions His volitions are of the form of (A). According to (PC), both general and particular volitions are of the form of (A), while the former are in accord with laws of nature and the latter aren't.To simplify matters, I will focus on God's activity in the material world; the laws of nature in question will usually be the laws of motion. Further, to avoid terminological confusion, I will refer to volitions of the form of (A) as "particular content volitions," and those of (B) as "general content volitions." The issue before us then is: When Malebranche's God acts by "general volitions," are these general content volitions or particular content volitions? Proponents of (GC) support the former; those of (PC) the latter.Unhappily, almost everything Malebranche says directly on the subject can be interpreted either way. 4 (I'll speculate why at the end.) And admittedly, what Malebranche says more broadly about natural laws and divine volitions is often suggestive of (GC)—so it is no surprise that almost all recent commentators adopt (GC), usually simply assuming it without argument. Still, I shall argue that if one of the interpretations is correct, it is (PC). [End Page 78]My plan in this paper: (1) Offer some prima facie support for (PC); (2) Provide four arguments that (PC) either fits better with, or is alone consistent with, various Malebranchean doctrines; (3) Reply to some recent objections against (PC); (4) Argue that Malebranche's direct reply to Arnauld supports (PC); (5) Offer a conclusion and final thought. 1. Some Prima Facie Support For (PC) Let me first note that Steven Nadler offers various passages which do at least suggest (PC). 5 But that evidence, while strong, is not alone conclusive. For one thing, those passages can perhaps be accommodated by (GC); 6 for another, there are many passages which suggest (GC). So we must go further.Consider, then, Malebranche's primary concern in the Treatise, the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Dei Filius IV:On the Development of DogmaAndrew MeszarosIntroductionHistorically, it is indisputable that the intention of the latter part of chapter 4 of Dei Filius was to restate the substantial immutability of the deposit of faith, not for the sake of rejecting doctrinal development, but for the sake of establishing parameters for a certain profectus fidei—progress or development in the faith—which no Catholic theologian doubted, not even nineteenth-century neo-Scholastics. Then-contemporary (...) (e.g., John Henry Newman and the Tübingen school) and subsequent (e.g., Yves Congar and Henri de Lubac) theologians' theories that were more thoroughly worked out presupposed this immutability.The argument here is simple: Dei Filius's teaching on the immutability of dogma not only did serve as the necessary foundation for any sound (i.e., Catholic) theory of doctrinal development, but continues to do so. While the teaching of Dei Filius itself is limited and incomplete, it is essential. Furthermore, its key feature of dogmatic immutability is not compromised by even the most dramatic of doctrinal developments.To establish the ongoing relevance of Dei Filius for contemporary discussions on doctrinal development, I will first draw out certain key similarities between the nineteenth-century, modernist, and contemporary contexts. This will be followed by a presentation of the relevant portions of Dei Filius. Finally, in the longest section, I will discuss what is at stake in the teaching of Dei Filius and offer some different examples of how doctrines develop in ways that uphold the fundamental-theological principle laid out [End Page 909] in Dei Filius: namely, that all doctrinal development is homogenous with, or in continuity with, the deposit of faith.Anton Günther and Theology TodayWe can identify two major factors that led to the Vatican Council having to address dogmatic development. The first, and perhaps most important, factor is the implication that Anton Günther's (1783–1863) understanding of faith and reason had on dogma and its immutability. The second factor is simply the fact that, in the midst of these pervasive philosophical and theological disputes over faith and reason, Pius IX not only managed to define the Immaculate Conception as dogma, but did so by papal definition: the 1854 definition was the freshest example of what would later be defined in 1870.1 A brief examination of the thought of Günther will help us better understand why the paragraph on development (i.e., the immutability and progress of dogma) pertains to the faith–reason relationship and, hence, appears in the fourth chapter. 2Günther's major concern is a noble one: namely, to respond to the Kantian critique of supernatural religion. To do so, he sees it as necessary not only to defend rationally but also to explain rationally—according to the philosophical systems of Schelling and Hegel—Christian dogma. Günther is no brash and pure rationalist. He believes in the history of supernatural revelation. He acknowledges that reason alone could never discover supernaturally revealed truths; but, as a so-called semi-rationalist, he believes that, once made known to it, reason can then penetrate and, indeed, prove these revealed truths.3 [End Page 910]But if revealed mysteries are discoverable by human reason, then those same mysteries have to be interpreted in such a way that is, indeed, within the reach of reason using its proper resources.4 Not Scholasticism but German idealism—especially its category of self-consciousness—was Günther's vehicle for giving an account of the faith. Such a re-interpretation of Christian dogma according idealism's categories naturally alters the original understanding of that dogma. But for Günther, this reinterpretation is necessary if revelation is to be accessible to reason.So, for example, because modern psychology cannot make sense of a distinction between "person" and "nature" that is not coterminous, we must conclude, against Ephesus, that Christ is in fact a unity of two persons. Nor, for that matter, is the human person a composite of body and soul as defined by the Council of Vienne (1311–1312). Because God is self-conscious spirit, there is a process of trebling in God that tends toward... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction to Dei Filius and Theology TodayAndrew MeszarosThe pandemic year of 2020 quickly torpedoed the modest intentions of formally reflecting on the contemporary significance of Dei Filius on its 150th anniversary. Nevertheless, the year's delay proved providential: in holding an online symposium, "Dei Filius and Theology Today," on April 22–24, 2021, the symposium was able to reach more participants than could have realistically travelled to Ireland, and was able (...) to end on April 24, the same day Pius IX promulgated the constitution 151 years ago.1In what follows, I lay out briefly the rationale for the commemoration and the publication of its proceedings.The "Spirit of Vatican I"Perhaps the most consistently disputed theological issue of the last fifty years has been the correct interpretation of the Second Vatican Council. The dispute is often but inaccurately pitched as a tension between the spirit and the letter of the Council. While such a distinction is valid (for one cannot hold that the Council's meaning is utterly exhausted by its texts, nor can one simply collapse the spirit into the text), and while debates over the interpretation of a council in its aftermath is not unique in the history [End Page 793] of the Church, and while it is not uncommon for historians to attribute something equivalent to a "spirit" or ethos to a given period in the history of the Church, it is noteworthy that few if any contemporary Catholic scholars (whether historians, philosophers, or theologians) seek to identify the "spirit of Vatican I," let alone do so in order to establish an ecclesiastical program or stake out a "direction" in which to move. Indeed, what would such a "spirit of Vatican I" look like?For some the spirit of Vatican I might best be encapsulated by the episcopal motto of Vatican II's killjoy, Cardinal Ottaviani: semper idem—"always the same." In that motto we find, allegedly, all the close-minded, ahistorical rigidity and complacency that Vatican II's spirit of openness, aggiornamento, and reform tried to overcome. Such a caricature of both Councils, however, seems to violate the hermeneutical principle taught by the bishops gathered at the extraordinary synod of 1985, for any aggiornamento or reform that moves outside established tradition is an aggiornamento or reform that separates the spirit from the letter of the Council.In the same way, it is not legitimate to separate the spirit and the letter of the [Second Vatican] Council. Moreover, the Council must be understood in continuity with the great tradition of the Church, and at the same time we must receive light from the Council's own doctrine for today's Church and the men of our time. The Church is one and the same throughout all the councils.2An erroneous understanding of a conciliar spirit as an ecclesiastical license for a theological free-for-all might cause one to question the language of "spirit" in relation to a council. But this statement by the bishops suggests that there is a legitimate (and illegitimate) way of attributing a "spirit" to a council. Rightly understood, the spirit of any council is an ethos or shared disposition, catalyzed by that council, according to which the Church seeks to move forward on her pilgrim journey through history—the temps de l'église—which will come to a halt only at the second coming of the Son. (One might say that history's councils are the smaller events that help guide the Church in her mission to communicate the fruits that stem from the ultimate event of salvation history: namely, the dual sending of the Son and the Spirit.) Their doctrinal teaching must be safeguarded (1 Tm 6:20) and their practical directives implemented. It is an ethos, stemming from [End Page 794] a particular historical event, that moves individuals and the Church as a whole to accomplish these tasks in accord with that event.3To the extent that a council addresses a variety of concerns, both temporal and eternal, the spirit of any council will involve contextually dependent and temporary stimuli (e.g., the Lateran Councils' spirit of reform in relation to clerical abuse), and more... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Dimensions of Agency in Lincoln’s Second InauguralAndrew C. HansenSix days before he delivered his Second Inaugural Address, Abraham Lincoln strode into his White House office. Greeting him were G. B. Lincoln, John A. Bingham, and Francis Carpenter, the last of whom had been living with Lincoln in the White House for six months, painting a portrait of the president reading the Emancipation Proclamation to the cabinet. It is Carpenter's (...) delineation of the president's entrance that contains the "only known description of the preliminaries of the Second Inaugural" (Barondess 1954, 62). "Mr. Lincoln came in through the side passage which had lately been constructed," Carpenter writes, "holding in his hand a roll of manuscripts." Lincoln turned to his guests and quipped, "Lots of wisdom in that document, I suspect; it is what will be called my 'second inaugural' " (quoted in Barondess, 62).The content and modesty of Carpenter's description of the "preliminaries of the Second Inaugural" give the rhetorical critic a telling preview of what might be discovered in a reading of Lincoln's composition of that manuscript. The understatement in the length and simplicity of the address subtly and poignantly charms the reader. And there is "lots of wisdom" in the Second Inaugural: along with the Gettysburg Address, it contains the words of Lincoln that most abide. In a letter to an admiring Thurow Weed, who had penned Lincoln that his inaugural was "the neatest but the most pregnant and effective use to which the English Language was ever put," Lincoln wrote that he "expected" the Second Inaugural to "wear as well as—perhaps better than—anything I have ever produced" (quoted in Barondess 1954, 78).Underscoring Lincoln's perspicacity when he wrote to Weed that he "expected" the speech to "wear well," Carl Schulz's designation of the address as a "sacred poem" and the frequency with which that epithet is quoted by other critics confirm Lincoln's assessment of the oratorical endurance [End Page 223] of the piece. The estimation of the rhetorical durability of the address is perhaps best proven by its ability to withstand the polemics of its detractors, both immediately after its delivery and in successive generations, and the encomia of its admirers, both the obscure journalists and the renowned poets.1 Lately, only praise surrounds the Second Inaugural. Ronald C. White's thorough overview of the Second Inaugural's basic stylistic characteristics and how the oration resonates within Lincoln's social, political, and intellectual context is modestly entitled Lincoln's Greatest Speech (2002). In the last line of Lincoln at Gettysburg, Wills concludes that the Second Inaugural "is the only speech worthy to stand with" the Gettysburg Address (1992, 189) and later argues in the Atlantic Monthly that Lincoln "was at the peak of his creativity when he wrote the Second Inaugural Address" (1999, 70). The Second Inaugural seemingly speaks beyond its content and situation.Contained within the aura of adoration that surrounds the Second Inaugural is a significant charge to the rhetorical critic: what is it particularly about the address that sustains its agency and permits it to escape the evanescence accorded to most rhetorical efforts? When the agency of discourse helps to eliminate or extenuate the immediate exigency that calls forth that speech, it usually becomes remanded to the annals of history and is examined by the public or by scholars only when that historical nidus forces itself back upon the public's or the scholar's attention. The speech is exhausted by its situation and swallowed by its surrounding and future events. There are, however, those speeches like the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural that practice their persuasion on audiences beyond the immediate exigency. They persist, they talk to us still, and their agency endures. Why is this true of Lincoln's Second Inaugural? This is the question that motivates my close reading of Lincoln's speech; and, as I hope to demonstrate, it is only through a close reading that such a question even makes sense. After explicating the scholarship that the Second Inaugural has generated and the critical assumptions that drive my close textual analysis, the essay will proceed with the work... (shrink)

Students in two classes in the fall of 2004 making extensive use of online courseware were logged as they visited over 500 different “learning pages” which varied in length and in difficulty. We computed the time spent on each page by each student during each session they were logged in. We then modeled the time spent for a particular visit as a function of the page itself, the session, and the student. Surprisingly, the average time a student spent (...) on learning pages was of almost no value in predicting how long they would spend on a given page, even controlling for the session and page difficulty. The page itself was highly predictive, but so was the average time spent on learning pages in a given session. This indicates that local considerations, e.g., mood, deadline proximity, etc., play a much greater role in determining student pace and attention than do intrinsic student traits. We also consider the average time spent on learning pages as a function of the time of semester. Students spent less time on pages later in the semester, even for more demanding material. (shrink)

Review by: Alexander G. Melnikov The Bulletin of Symbolic Logic, Volume 19, Issue 3, Page 400-401, September 2013.

Mental health professionals rightfully experience significant anxiety regarding their duty to protect when working with potentially dangerous individuals. This work dispels myths and provides readers with a resource addressing the situations where a duty to protect may apply.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Literature in MindH. G. Wells and the Evolution of the Mad ScientistAnne StilesIn 1893, H. G. Wells's article "Man of the Year Million" dramatically predicted the distant evolutionary future of mankind:The descendents of man will nourish themselves by immersion in nutritive fluid. They will have enormous brains, liquid, soulful eyes, and large hands, on which they will hop. No craggy nose will they have, no vestigial ears; their mouths (...) will be a small, perfectly round aperture, unanimal, like the evening star. Their whole muscular system will be shriveled to nothing, a dangling pendant to their minds.2The editors at Punch evidently found this prediction hilarious, publishing a poem and accompanying sketch ridiculing Wells's lopsided future humans (Figure 1, p. 318). But not everyone was laughing.As ridiculous as Wells's bodiless, large-headed "human tadpoles" may seem, they were based on the most rigorous evolutionary science of their day. Wells, a lower-middle-class academic prodigy, received a prestigious [End Page 317] Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 1."1,000,000 A.D.," Punch, or the London Charivari, 25 November 1893, 250.[End Page 318]government scholarship to attend the Normal School of Science in South Kensington (later absorbed into the University of London). Though Wells left South Kensington in 1887 without earning his degree, he was greatly inspired by his biology teacher, famed physiologist Thomas Huxley. Wells absorbed Huxley's pessimistic take on late-Victorian evolutionary theory, particularly his emphasis on the inherent brutality of natural selection.Huxley's pessimism surfaces in Wells's dystopian scientific romances, which imaginatively probe the consequences of evolutionary theory run amok.3 Beginning with the eponymous mad-scientist villain of The Island of Dr. Moreau (1896) and continuing with alien invasion narratives like The War of the Worlds (1897–98) and The First Men in the Moon (1901), Wells depicts brains becoming steadily larger and more powerful as bodies grow smaller and more useless, emotions increasingly muted, and conscience all but silenced. Wells's nightmarish vision of the massively over-evolved brain unites these three works, as the ruthlessly intellectual biologist Moreau morphs into the amoral, top-heavy Martians and lunar inhabitants.Wells's malevolent mad scientists and extraterrestrials owe an intellectual debt not only to Huxley, but also to discussions of genius and insanity in late-Victorian issues of Mind (1876–present).4 The now-familiar trope of the mad scientist in fact traces its roots to the clinical association between genius and insanity that developed in the mid-nineteenth century. Authors like Scottish journalist and materialist philosopher John Ferguson Nisbet, English eugenicist Francis Galton, and Austrian Jewish physician Max Nordau—all of whose works were reviewed in Mind—argued that mankind had evolved larger brains at the expense of muscular strength, reproductive capacity, and moral sensibility.5 Wells drew upon these arguments in his fiction and even contributed his own article to Mind, a philosophical reflection on science entitled "Scepticism of the Instrument" (1904).In its unique role as "the first English journal devoted to Psychology and Philosophy." Mind was an ideal venue for an inherently interdisciplinary [End Page 319] subject like the clinical study of genius.6 The journal's first editor, George Croom Robertson, was particularly concerned that articles in Mind rise "above the narrowing influences of modern specialism."7 This disciplinary breadth attracted contributors from all fields, including fiction writers and literary critics like George Henry Lewes, Grant Allen, Andrew Lang, and, of course, H.G. Wells. During the same period, literary works probed ideas discussed in Mind, such as the nature of the soul, the possibility of free will, and the ramifications of biological determinism. In the four decades following its auspicious start, Mind provided a venue where scientists, philosophers and literary authors could find intellectual common ground.In this essay, the early fiction of H.G. Wells will serve as a case study of cross-fertilization between literature and scientific ideas discussed in Mind. The goals of this exploration are threefold: to gain a better understanding of the journal's history and influence; to investigate why Victorians associated genius with insanity; and to illuminate the shared... (shrink)

In December 2013, the Nonhuman Rights Project (NhRP) filed a petition for a common law writ of habeas corpus in the New York State Supreme Court on behalf of Tommy, a chimpanzee living alone in a cage in a shed in rural New York (Barlow, 2017). Under animal welfare laws, Tommy’s owners, the Laverys, were doing nothing illegal by keeping him in those conditions. Nonetheless, the NhRP argued that given the cognitive, social, and emotional capacities of chimpanzees, Tommy’s confinement constituted (...) a profound wrong that demanded remedy by the courts. Soon thereafter, the NhRP filed habeas corpus petitions on behalf of Kiko, another chimpanzee housed alone in Niagara Falls, and Hercules and Leo, two chimpanzees held in research facilities at Stony Brook University. Thus began the legal struggle to move these chimpanzees from captivity to a sanctuary, an effort that has led the NhRP to argue in multiple courts before multiple judges. The central point of contention has been whether Tommy, Kiko, Hercules, and Leo have legal rights. To date, no judge has been willing to issue a writ of habeas corpus on their behalf. Such a ruling would mean that these chimpanzees have rights that confinement might violate. Instead, the judges have argued that chimpanzees cannot be bearers of legal rights because they are not, and cannot be persons. In this book we argue that chimpanzees are persons because they are autonomous. (shrink)

This paper considers the neuropsychology of religious and spiritual experiences. This requires a review of our current understanding of brain function as well as an integrated synthesis to derive a neuropsychological model of spiritual experiences. Religious and spiritual experiences are highly complex states that likely involve many brain structures including those involved in higher order processing of sensory and cognitive input as well as those involved in the elaboration of emotions and autonomic responses. Such an analysis can help elucidate the (...) biological correlates of these experiences and provide new information regarding the function of the human brain. (shrink)

Malebranche's Theodicy ANDREW G. BLACK LEIBNIZ'S SOLUTION tO the problem of evil, his theodicy, might be regarded as a paradigm of philosophical theology. Its pattern, as with so much of Leibniz's philosophy, is reconciliation of deep metaphysical truth with recalcitrant ap- pearance. Thus, a theodicy is not just any solution to the problem; strictly speaking it is a vindication of divine providence in the face of the challenge posed by apparent imperfections of all kinds in creation.' The preeminence of (...) Leibniz's theodicy as a modern solution to the problem of evil has helped to obscure distinguished contributions from among his contemporaries. Not least among these is that made by Nicolas Malebranche, a philosopher having much in common with Leibniz . ~ Malebranche shows a deep concern for the problem of evil throughout his philosophical writings, though nowhere more so than in his Treatise on Nature and Grace, a a book written in response to the Jansenist4 challenge to orthodox In addition to an entire and substantial book, the Theodicy , a number of Leibniz's essays contain versions of his theodicy. See, for example, articles 1- 7 of the Discourse on Metaphysics; also "A Vindication of God's Justice Reconciled with his.. (shrink)

Aggleton & Brown argue that a hippocampal-anterior thalamic system supports the “recollection” of contextual information about previous events, and that a separate perirhinal-medial dorsal thalamic system supports detection of stimulus “familiarity.” Although there is a growing body of human literature that is in agreement with these claims, when recollection and familiarity have been examined in amnesics using the process dissociation or the remember/know procedures, the results do not seem to provide consistent support. We reexamine these studies and describe the results (...) of an additional experiment using a receiver operating characteristic (ROC) technique. The results of the reanalysis and the ROC experiment are consistent with Aggleton & Brown's proposal. Patients with damage to both regions exhibit severe deficits in recollection and smaller, but consistent, deficits in familiarity. (shrink)

This article presents findings from research on young adults in the UK from diverse religious backgrounds. Utilizing questionnaires, interviews and video diaries, it assesses how religious young adults understood and managed the tensions in popular discourse between gender equality as an enshrined value and aspirational narrative, and religion as purportedly instituting gender inequality. The article shows that, despite varied understandings, and the ambivalence and tension in managing ideal and practice, participants of different religious traditions and genders were committed to gender (...) equality. Thus, they viewed gender-unequal practices within their religious cultures as an aberration from the essence of religion. In this way, they firmly rejected the dominant discourse that religion is inherently antithetical to gender equality. (shrink)

This Special Issue commemorates the 60th anniversary of Business & Society with nine rigorous literature reviews that address important societal problems and provide opportunities for theory development in the business and society field; in this introduction we present an overview of the Special Issue. With the theme “Building on Its Past,” the nine articles address a host of contemporary issues, including climate change, wicked problems, business and human rights, human health, certifications standards, the governance of artificial intelligence, stakeholder engagement, stakeholder (...) theory, and corporate political activity. Together, these reviews offer a wealth of suggested themes, theories and approaches that can drive our research forward for the next decades in business and society research and practice. Using the lens of a miner-prospector continuum to categorize the diversity of articles within this special issue, a common theme emerges across the portfolio of reviews: they all call for a more systemic and integrative perspective toward studying the complex interactions that link business and society actors and issues. Building on these findings, we encourage future scholars to fill long-standing researched gaps through a more open systems approach, which supports both contextually sensitive and multi-level and multi-disciplinary approaches to address grand societal challenges. We conclude with specific suggestions as to how business and society scholars might use an open systems approach, including embracing methodologies to address complex causal pathways, theorizing with a view towards spanning external and internal elements of an organization, and reflecting on the temporal and spatial dynamics of complex systems. (shrink)

As a result of increased interest in global health, more and more medical students and trainees from the.

This article documents the main developments in the textual history of a short polemical treatise ascribed to Aḥmad Ibn Ḥanbal, al-Radd ʿalā al-zanādiqa wa-l-jahmiyya. In particular, I show that three different, if related, recensions of the text exist in manuscript. Then, drawing on evidence from the text and biobibliographical sources, I show that al-Radd only emerged over several centuries. The idea for the text finds its roots in the earlist elaborations of Hanbali theology, perhaps even in the notebooks of Ibn (...) Ḥanbal himself. The first recension of the text, however, only emerged after the mid-fourth/tenth century in Baghdad. Another recension appears at the beginning of the sixth/twelfth century, perhaps also in Baghdad. These recensions were combined to form a third recension no later than the eighth/fourteenth century, and it is the third recension that became the basis for most print editions of the work. (shrink)

I argue that Grafen’s formal darwinism project could profitably incorporate a gene’s-eye view, as informed by the major transitions framework. In this, instead of the individual being assumed to maximise its inclusive fitness, genes are assumed to maximise their inclusive fitness. Maximisation of fitness at the individual level is not a straightforward concept because the major transitions framework shows that there are several kinds of biological individual. In addition, individuals have a definable fitness, exhibit individual-level adaptations and arise in a (...) major transition, only to the extent that the inclusive-fitness interests of genes within them coincide. Therefore, as others have suggested, the fundamental level at which fitness is maximised is the gene level. Previous reconciliations of the concepts of gene-level fitness and individual-level fitness implicitly recognise this point. Adaptations always maximise the fitness of their causative genes, but may be simple or complex. Simple adaptations may be controlled by single genes and be maladaptive at higher levels, whereas complex adaptations are controlled by multiple genes and rely on those genes having coinciding fitness interests at a higher level, for a given trait. (shrink)

Charlotte Perkins Gilman was a prominent and effective figure for social change in her prime, yet, despite her prodigious literary output, she had little direct influence on the generations immediately following her. Even before her death, all of her works were out of print. She has been the subject of increasingly widespread attention since her rediscovery, yet, although she was a stalwart advocate for women's rights, many of Gilman's views make hers a problematic revival. That Gilman has a place in (...) the history of feminism is undeniable, but how to situate her, and especially Herland, in relation to contemporary feminist thought remains a matter of debate. Feminist scholars have long been engaged in the question... (shrink)

Multinational corporations face a litany of challenges regarding ethical decision-making as they traverse new variables in each country they operate in. Presented here is a new approach to ethical decision-making research for multinational corporations with the inclusion of moral virtues, national culture, and a feedback mechanism. The new proposed model builds off of the existing work by Trevino’s Person-Situated Interactionist Model. Hofstede’s work on individual national culture characteristics is used to move the conversation forward by explaining the relationships between individual (...) moderators in Trevino’s model and the effect of national culture on them. The new proposed model recommends the inclusion of moral virtues, with honesty and integrity as examples, as individual moderators in the decision-making process based on previous work. It contributes to the literature by introducing moral virtues into traditional ethical decision-making process models and introduces a new variable with a feedback mechanism for future learning. The paper concludes with recommendations for the future direction of research for ethical decision-making models for multinational organizations. (shrink)