For many, the case of the Exxon Valdez oil spill has become a symbol of unethical corporate behavior. Had Exxon’s managers not callously pursued their own interests at the expense of the environment and other parties, the accident would not have happened. In this paper, we (1) present a short case study of the Valdez incident; (2) argue that many analyses of the case either ignore or fail to give sufficient weight to the uncertainties managers often face when they make (...) decisions; and (3) propose a framework for moral management grounded in principles of communicative ethics, moral dialogue, and in the non-traditional ideas of many current management and behavioral decision theorists. From this view, the moral manager is not expected to know the “correct” answer to every ethical issue, but rather to participate responsibly in an open dialogue with other interested parties. (shrink)

For many, the case of the Exxon Valdez oil spill has become a symbol of unethical corporate behavior. Had Exxon’s managers not callously pursued their own interests at the expense of the environment and other parties, the accident would not have happened. In this paper, we (1) present a short case study of the Valdez incident; (2) argue that many analyses of the case either ignore or fail to give sufficient weight to the uncertainties managers often face when they make (...) decisions; and (3) propose a framework for moral management grounded in principles of communicative ethics, moral dialogue, and in the non-traditional ideas of many current management and behavioral decision theorists. From this view, the moral manager is not expected to know the “correct” answer to every ethical issue, but rather to participate responsibly in an open dialogue with other interested parties. (shrink)

Researchers in science and technology studies appear to be more concerned with descriptions and explanations of social phenomena than with the potential applications of their findings. Science and technology studies should strive to change society by contributing to the design of learning environments that form future generations of producers and consumers of scientific and technological knowledge. In this article, the authors illustrate how they used research findings from science and technology studies to design alternative learning environments and summarize their principal (...) findings from six years of ethnographic research in these learning environments. They conclude by pointing out some of the caveats inherent in theirapproach and by suggesting areas in science education of interest to science and technology studies. (shrink)

The United States has long been a model for accessible, affordable education, as exemplified by the country's public universities. And yet less than 60 percent of the students entering American universities today are graduating. Why is this happening, and what can be done? Crossing the Finish Line provides the most detailed exploration ever of college completion at America's public universities. This groundbreaking book sheds light on such serious issues as dropout rates linked to race, gender, and socioeconomic status. Probing graduation (...) rates at twenty-one flagship public universities and four statewide systems of public higher education, the authors focus on the progress of students in the entering class of 1999--from entry to graduation, transfer, or withdrawal. They examine the effects of parental education, family income, race and gender, high school grades, test scores, financial aid, and characteristics of universities attended. The conclusions are compelling: minority students and students from poor families have markedly lower graduation rates--and take longer to earn degrees--even when other variables are taken into account. Noting the strong performance of transfer students and the effects of financial constraints on student retention, the authors call for improved transfer and financial aid policies, and suggest ways of improving the sorting processes that match students to institutions. An outstanding combination of evidence and analysis, Crossing the Finish Line should be read by everyone who cares about the nation's higher education system. (shrink)

To date, little is known about when and to what degree science students begin to participate in authentic scientific graphing practices. This article presents the results of a series of studies on the production, transformation, and interpretation of graphical representation from Grade 8 to professional scientific practice both in formal testing situations and in the course of field/laboratory work. The results of these studies can be grouped into two major areas. First, there is a discontinuity in the graph-related practices that (...) marks a boundary between people who engage in work that requires them to transform data into graphical representations and people who do not have such experiences. Second, the didactic practices of high school textbooks and university lectures exhibit a marked discontinuity relative to graphing practices in scientific journals. Graphs used in didactic circumstances may be associated with students’ difficulties in interpreting “real data.” It appears that school teachers and university professors do little to put their students on trajectories of increasing participation in authentic scientific graphing practices. (shrink)

Volume 39 of the Tanner Lectures on Human Values includes lectures initially scheduled during the academic year 2019-2020. Owing to the global coronavirus pandemic, some were delivered at a later date. The Tanner Lectures are published in an annual volume. In addition to permanent lectures at nine universities, the Tanner Lectures on Human Values funds special one-time lectures at selected higher educational institutions in the United States and around the world.

This study was designed to find out what scientists and science students actually do when they are reading familiar and unfamiliar graphs. This study provides rich details of the subtle changes in the ontologies of scientists and science students as they engage in the reading tasks assigned to them. In the course of the readers’ interpretation work, initially unspecified marks on paper are turned into objects with particular topologies that are said to correspond to specific features in the world. We (...) theorize this interpretive work as a transition of graphs from things to signs that come to stand for natural objects. Especially among physicists and theoretical ecologists, graphs enter new relations and become natural objects in their own right. (shrink)

The f-word -- Are you a spiritual rebel? -- A unicorn among sheep -- Taking out the sacred trash -- Redefining spirituality -- Spiritual moments -- Week 1: being -- Mindful Monday -- Talking Tuesday -- Wonder-filled Wednesday -- Trekking Thursday -- Fearless Friday -- Seva Saturday -- Sangha Sunday -- Week 2: deepening -- Week 3: expanding -- Rebel with (a lot of) clues -- Revealing higher purpose -- The rebel and the saint -- Reflections and ahas -- G-word (...) alternatives for sacred pondering -- Sacred shout-outs -- About the author. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Death: A Persistent Controversial StateKevin Wm. Wildes S.J. (bio)Along with the moral questions surrounding research and experimentation, the moral questions of death and dying have ranked among the most central and formative sets of issues for the field of bioethics. While the questions of death and dying have a long history (Wildes 1996), the attempt to address them as secular questions is an element of what established bioethics as (...) a field of inquiry.The controversies of death and dying are not only formative of bioethics, but also are among the most persistent bioethical controversies. Today, almost 30 years after the Harvard Ad Hoc Committee’s definition of death and 20 years after the Quinlan decision, the questions of death and dying are still with us. Recently, the question of physician-assisted suicide once again gained national [End Page 378] attention with the trials of Dr. Kevorkian and the decisions of the Ninth and Second Circuit Courts on the constitutionality of the Washington and New York state laws prohibiting physician-assisted suicide. At the same time, questions and controversies about the appropriate extent of treatment and the determination of death in relationship to treatment continue to be problematic in health care.As I reviewed the literature in the area of death and dying, one central question emerged: Why, after so much reflection, energy, and discussion, do the problems around death and dying continue to persist? There is a recurring character to these questions that is indeed a wonder. In reviewing these moral controversies, one might ask what these controversies and their persistent character tell us about bioethics that can help us to understand the issues and the field.Some might blame the development of medical technology for the persistence of these issues of death and dying. The development and use of technological resources certainly is an important element of these continuing controversies. The use of medical technologies at the end of life allows us the possibility to sustain lives that would have been lost just a few decades ago. However, while medical technology certainly opens new horizons and possibilities, the development and deployment of technology does not sufficiently explain why these issues are so difficult and persistent. The question underlying the use of medical technology at the end of life is the question about which criteria are to be used to make judgments about the appropriate use of such technology. If the use of medical technology depends on the moral views one holds about death, suffering, and the appropriate use of resources, then such issues will be morally controversial in a society that is morally pluralistic.To address these questions, it is important to remember what is all too obvious and yet often forgotten. Death is not only a medical event. In this century, particularly in the last 40 years, we have reduced death to a medical event, yet, the medical meanings do not exhaust the event (see Engelhardt 1996, pp. 189–238). Death is also a social, cultural, and often religious event and the medical realities of death must be interpreted within these different contexts. As such, death will be the locus of different meanings and interpretations. By keeping these different structures of interpretation in mind, we are better able to understand why controversies around death and dying persist. Just as the meaning of death will vary from culture to culture, so too will the criteria of death vary. Different moral communities have different criteria for death—e.g., pulmonary or cognitive function. Put another way, different communities and cultures will have different views of what constitutes a good life, and those views influence the way death is understood. How one understands the obligations to support life also varies according to one’s moral commitments and values.One’s view of what counts as death, or what counts as a good death, is influenced [End Page 379] by the moral commitments that one holds. The persistent controversies over death and dying are a symptom of deep, widespread moral and cultural pluralism. These views are controversial because, in many ways, our deaths are no longer private. That is, the way we die often is tied to a health... (shrink)

We investigate whether age profiles of ethnobiological knowledge development are consistent with predictions derived from life history theory about the timing of productivity and reproduction. Life history models predict complementary knowledge profiles developing across the lifespan for women and men as they experience changes in embodied capital and the needs of dependent offspring. We evaluate these predictions using an ethnobiological knowledge assessment tool developed for an off-grid pastoralist population known as Choyeros, from Baja California Sur, Mexico. Our results indicate that (...) while individuals acquire knowledge of most dangerous items and edible resources by early adulthood, knowledge of plants and animals relevant to the age and sex divided labor domains and ecologies (e.g., women’s house gardens, men’s herding activities in the wilderness) continues to develop into middle adulthood but to different degrees and at different rates for men and women. As the demands of offspring on parents accumulate with age, reproductive-aged adults continue to develop their knowledge to meet their children’s needs. After controlling for vision, our analysis indicates that many post-reproductive adults show the greatest ethnobiological knowledge. These findings extend our understanding of the evolved human life history by illustrating how changes in embodied capital and the needs of dependent offspring predict the development of men’s and women’s ethnobiological knowledge across the lifespan. (shrink)

Impressions, energy radiated by phenomena in the momentary environmental scene, enter sensory neurons, creating in afferent nerves a data stream. Following Kant, by our inner sense the mind perceives its own thoughts as it ties together sense data into an internalized scene. The mind, residing in the brain, logically a Language Machine, processes and stores items as coded grammatical entities. Kantian synthetic unity in the linguistic brain is able to deliver our experience of the scene as we appear to see (...) it. Uniquely, the brain records its own history, synthesizing a Movie-in-the-Brain, called the Noumenal Cosmos. Attempting thereby to represent the actual Universe, this makes for a sovereign brain that governs itself. The brain is domicile of an Ego, with its selfhood at stake at all times. Yet, it can know itself only by its actions, in which it appears as an actor in its own movie. Phenomena enter garbled, as confused apparitions, and must be put in good form using top–down feedback control by Ego, so that each movie frame makes rational sense within the overall context of the Noumenal Cosmos. A stack of frames is processed typically in 40 Hz rhythm with 300 ms process time each, for about 12 in the stack at any time. Successive neural centers are processing the stack in the brain assembly line, based on data from increasingly global receptive fields. Ego stitches together the movie frames, but only the top frame is in consciousness for 25 ms. The top frame contains the whole scene where the Ego makes an appearance as the actor that imposes Kantian synthetic unity on the scene, merely an assembly of grammatical texts, in a system-internal coded process language, fitting the scene into the Noumenal Cosmos. But Ego observes Ego only to the extent permitted by the objectivity rule, only what it does and thinks, not its true face. From the Noumenal Cosmos, the Ego receives grammatical messages in the internal sense code. They are integrated into a whole in the reaction of the Ego to the momentary scene. The voluntary nature of Ego’s decisions is explained, based on its ability to code in advance its own actions sequentially in time, as it sees fit with a view to an orderly Noumenal Cosmos, records of code being arranged spatially in neural structures. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 63-67 [Access article in PDF] A Buddhist Reflects (Practices Reflection) on Some Christians' Reflections on Buddhist Practices Grace Burford Prescott College A tourist lost in New York City asks of a passerby, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?"The musically inclined informant replies, "Practice, practice, practice!" Often people who have just heard I am a college professor with a specialty in Buddhism ask me "Are (...) you a practicing Buddhist?" This question has always stumped me. My most common retort (it's not really an answer), "I keep practicing; maybe someday I'll get it right," both evades and critiques the question. As we use the term in everyday conversation, "practice" generally means disciplined repetition of an activity, usually in preparation for a performance of some kind. In relation to a religious path, "practice" usually refers to the integration of certain prescribed actions (practices) in one's life. My retort derives from the mixing of these two meanings of the word "practice," and the assumption that--for one reason or another--religious practice does not lead to a perfect performance in the spiritual equivalent of Carnegie Hall.The form of the question puzzles me. Why do they ask about my practice? Why not just ask me "Are you a Buddhist?" I think they expect to discover that I engage in a Buddhist equivalent of going to church. Maybe the inclusion of practice in the question indicates anticipation of some level of earnestness, of application of my self/energy/time in service of my religion--some outward, observable manifestation of my religious orientation, above and beyond just teaching college students about this religion. Perhaps they expect me to confess to being a vegetarian, or meditating, or chanting, or attending Buddhist services of some kind. Although I find the question somewhat intrusive, I understand that most often it arises from well-meaning curiosity, if not genuine interest, and I try to follow my retort with something more pedagogically effective.For most of my life, practice has been about music. I sang before I talked; I began to study piano at an early age; in elementary school I took up guitar and clarinet; in high school I started voice lessons. Learning to play all of these instruments required [End Page 63] practice. Recently, I took up the electric bass guitar, and I'm back to daily practicing. Practice does produce something; it is linearly causal. If I practice my instrument, I get better at producing the sounds I want to produce. Only a nonmusician would say this does not amount to a real accomplishment. At the same time, the activity one practices is the same activity one hopes to perform: I play the bass when I practice, in order to be able to play the bass. Still, I must practice--to get where I want to go, to improve the quality of my playing. After all, I first heard the Carnegie Hall joke from my guitar teacher, who told it both to amuse me and to inspire me to practice, practice, practice. At about the same time, author Catherine Drinker Bowen advised a group of us high school students that--based on her experiences growing up in a family full of musicians--the most effective way to learn an instrument is to fall in love with one's music teacher. In other words, desire serves the crucial function of inspiring one to practice. Yet I know that the same desire that motivates me to practice so that I can play more skillfully (as in "practice makes perfect") can hold me back if I focus on that future desired skillful playing (the "perfection") instead of the present moment of my playing. Further, I can practice to the point of technical expertise--I can accomplish that skill level I am aiming for in practice--and still not produce the musical quality I aspire to play. Practice does produce something necessary, but that something does not suffice. Musicians are no better at naming that other necessary ingredient than are... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 63-67 [Access article in PDF] A Buddhist Reflects (Practices Reflection) on Some Christians' Reflections on Buddhist Practices Grace Burford Prescott College A tourist lost in New York City asks of a passerby, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?"The musically inclined informant replies, "Practice, practice, practice!" Often people who have just heard I am a college professor with a specialty in Buddhism ask me "Are (...) you a practicing Buddhist?" This question has always stumped me. My most common retort (it's not really an answer), "I keep practicing; maybe someday I'll get it right," both evades and critiques the question. As we use the term in everyday conversation, "practice" generally means disciplined repetition of an activity, usually in preparation for a performance of some kind. In relation to a religious path, "practice" usually refers to the integration of certain prescribed actions (practices) in one's life. My retort derives from the mixing of these two meanings of the word "practice," and the assumption that--for one reason or another--religious practice does not lead to a perfect performance in the spiritual equivalent of Carnegie Hall.The form of the question puzzles me. Why do they ask about my practice? Why not just ask me "Are you a Buddhist?" I think they expect to discover that I engage in a Buddhist equivalent of going to church. Maybe the inclusion of practice in the question indicates anticipation of some level of earnestness, of application of my self/energy/time in service of my religion--some outward, observable manifestation of my religious orientation, above and beyond just teaching college students about this religion. Perhaps they expect me to confess to being a vegetarian, or meditating, or chanting, or attending Buddhist services of some kind. Although I find the question somewhat intrusive, I understand that most often it arises from well-meaning curiosity, if not genuine interest, and I try to follow my retort with something more pedagogically effective.For most of my life, practice has been about music. I sang before I talked; I began to study piano at an early age; in elementary school I took up guitar and clarinet; in high school I started voice lessons. Learning to play all of these instruments required [End Page 63] practice. Recently, I took up the electric bass guitar, and I'm back to daily practicing. Practice does produce something; it is linearly causal. If I practice my instrument, I get better at producing the sounds I want to produce. Only a nonmusician would say this does not amount to a real accomplishment. At the same time, the activity one practices is the same activity one hopes to perform: I play the bass when I practice, in order to be able to play the bass. Still, I must practice--to get where I want to go, to improve the quality of my playing. After all, I first heard the Carnegie Hall joke from my guitar teacher, who told it both to amuse me and to inspire me to practice, practice, practice. At about the same time, author Catherine Drinker Bowen advised a group of us high school students that--based on her experiences growing up in a family full of musicians--the most effective way to learn an instrument is to fall in love with one's music teacher. In other words, desire serves the crucial function of inspiring one to practice. Yet I know that the same desire that motivates me to practice so that I can play more skillfully (as in "practice makes perfect") can hold me back if I focus on that future desired skillful playing (the "perfection") instead of the present moment of my playing. Further, I can practice to the point of technical expertise--I can accomplish that skill level I am aiming for in practice--and still not produce the musical quality I aspire to play. Practice does produce something necessary, but that something does not suffice. Musicians are no better at naming that other necessary ingredient than are... (shrink)

Zusammenfassung Im Beitrag wird untersucht, ob und mit welchen Strategien Athleten sowie Sportorganisationen in Krisen des Sports Soziale Medien in ihrer Krisenkommunikation verwenden. Ausgehend von der Theorie der situationsbezogenen Krisenkommunikation nach Coombs, der bei verschiedenen Krisentypen spezifische Kommunikationsstrategien empfiehlt, werden Facebook-Posts und Tweets/retweets von Spielern und Verbänden bei zwei ausgewählten Krisen während der Fußball-WM 2014 qualitativ analysiert. Den Ergebnissen zufolge werden die Möglichkeiten Sozialer Medien nicht bzw. nur unzureichend genutzt. In beiden Fällen findet keine zeitnahe Krisenkommunikation statt. Bei der Spanien-Krise (...) schätzen die Beteiligten die Krisenschuldzuschreibung durch die Öffentlichkeit und den damit verbundenen Reputationsschaden höher ein als notwendig; im zweiten Fall wird ein individuelles Fehlverhalten trotz vorliegender Krisenhistorie dagegen unterschätzt. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 63-67 [Access article in PDF] A Buddhist Reflects (Practices Reflection) on Some Christians' Reflections on Buddhist Practices Grace Burford Prescott College A tourist lost in New York City asks of a passerby, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?"The musically inclined informant replies, "Practice, practice, practice!" Often people who have just heard I am a college professor with a specialty in Buddhism ask me "Are (...) you a practicing Buddhist?" This question has always stumped me. My most common retort (it's not really an answer), "I keep practicing; maybe someday I'll get it right," both evades and critiques the question. As we use the term in everyday conversation, "practice" generally means disciplined repetition of an activity, usually in preparation for a performance of some kind. In relation to a religious path, "practice" usually refers to the integration of certain prescribed actions (practices) in one's life. My retort derives from the mixing of these two meanings of the word "practice," and the assumption that--for one reason or another--religious practice does not lead to a perfect performance in the spiritual equivalent of Carnegie Hall.The form of the question puzzles me. Why do they ask about my practice? Why not just ask me "Are you a Buddhist?" I think they expect to discover that I engage in a Buddhist equivalent of going to church. Maybe the inclusion of practice in the question indicates anticipation of some level of earnestness, of application of my self/energy/time in service of my religion--some outward, observable manifestation of my religious orientation, above and beyond just teaching college students about this religion. Perhaps they expect me to confess to being a vegetarian, or meditating, or chanting, or attending Buddhist services of some kind. Although I find the question somewhat intrusive, I understand that most often it arises from well-meaning curiosity, if not genuine interest, and I try to follow my retort with something more pedagogically effective.For most of my life, practice has been about music. I sang before I talked; I began to study piano at an early age; in elementary school I took up guitar and clarinet; in high school I started voice lessons. Learning to play all of these instruments required [End Page 63] practice. Recently, I took up the electric bass guitar, and I'm back to daily practicing. Practice does produce something; it is linearly causal. If I practice my instrument, I get better at producing the sounds I want to produce. Only a nonmusician would say this does not amount to a real accomplishment. At the same time, the activity one practices is the same activity one hopes to perform: I play the bass when I practice, in order to be able to play the bass. Still, I must practice--to get where I want to go, to improve the quality of my playing. After all, I first heard the Carnegie Hall joke from my guitar teacher, who told it both to amuse me and to inspire me to practice, practice, practice. At about the same time, author Catherine Drinker Bowen advised a group of us high school students that--based on her experiences growing up in a family full of musicians--the most effective way to learn an instrument is to fall in love with one's music teacher. In other words, desire serves the crucial function of inspiring one to practice. Yet I know that the same desire that motivates me to practice so that I can play more skillfully (as in "practice makes perfect") can hold me back if I focus on that future desired skillful playing (the "perfection") instead of the present moment of my playing. Further, I can practice to the point of technical expertise--I can accomplish that skill level I am aiming for in practice--and still not produce the musical quality I aspire to play. Practice does produce something necessary, but that something does not suffice. Musicians are no better at naming that other necessary ingredient than are... (shrink)

The purpose of this study was to compare working memory (WM), executive function, academic ability and problem classroom behaviors in children aged 8 to 11 years who were either identified via routine screening as having low WM, or had been diagnosed with ADHD. Standardised assessments of WM, executive function and reading and mathematics were administered to 83 children with ADHD, 50 children with low WM and 50 typically developing children. Teachers rated problem behaviors on checklists measuring attention, hyperactivity/impulsivity, oppositional behavior, (...) and difficulties associated with executive function in the classroom. The ADHD and low WM groups had highly similar WM and executive function profiles, but were distinguished in two key respects: children with ADHD had higher levels of rated and observed impulsive behavior, and children low WM had slower response times. Possible mechanisms for these common and distinct deficits are discussed. (shrink)