Dans les philosophies récentes du Sud, les marges sont valorisées comme une contrainte ontologique et existentielle. La latéralité, la liminalité et l’interstitiel y sont donnés de façon explicite comme des formes de résistance à l’un, au système ou à la totalité. Accusés d’être des abstractions en surplomb, ces concepts sont dénoncés comme véhiculant le non-vrai, car ils drainent le soupçon d’être la forme violente que prennent l’hégémonie et l’impérialisme culturels et politiques. Ce texte critique comme problématique le privilège accordé à (...) une entité reléguée ab initio dans les marges de l’être. Il y a là le risque de la réduire au rang de rebut, enfermée dans les marges ou les interstices du monde. On ratifie et assume de ce fait, spéculativement, sa marginalisation réelle. A l’arrière-plan de cette position se profile en dernière analyse le rejet de l’universel, de la raison et du concept. Or nombre de grandes philosophies de la libération du Sud mettent en avant l’appréhension rationnelle et conceptuelle de l’Un car c’est dans le cadre de l’universel qu’une place doit être assignée à chaque particulier par détermination progressive. (shrink)

Dans les philosophies récentes du Sud, les marges sont valorisées comme une contrainte ontologique et existentielle. La latéralité, la liminalité et l’interstitiel y sont donnés de façon explicite comme des formes de résistance à l’un, au système ou à la totalité. Accusés d’être des abstractions en surplomb, ces concepts sont dénoncés comme véhiculant le non-vrai, car ils drainent le soupçon d’être la forme violente que prennent l’hégémonie et l’impérialisme culturels et politiques. Ce texte critique comme problématique le privilège accordé à (...) une entité reléguée ab initio dans les marges de l’être. Il y a là le risque de la réduire au rang de rebut, enfermée dans les marges ou les interstices du monde. On ratifie et assume de ce fait, spéculativement, sa marginalisation réelle. A l’arrière-plan de cette position se profile en dernière analyse le rejet de l’universel, de la raison et du concept. Or nombre de grandes philosophies de la libération du Sud mettent en avant l’appréhension rationnelle et conceptuelle de l’Un car c’est dans le cadre de l’universel qu’une place doit être assignée à chaque particulier par détermination progressive. (shrink)

Everyone thinks they know who Prince Zuko is and can be. His father, Fire Lord Ozai, and sister, Azula, think him weak, disobedient, and undeserving of the crown. His Uncle Iroh thinks him good, if troubled, but ultimately worthy of his faith. The kids initially think him a villain, but eventually come to see him as a person – neither monster nor saint – someone who can choose to go in a new way. Zuko himself shows great ambivalence (...) between these conflicting stories about who he is, though each one helps to craft his own self-understanding. In this paper, we apply Hilde Lindemann’s narrative account of the self to explore the ways that others “hold” Zuko in one identity or “let him go” from others. According to Lindemann, our personal identities consist of the first- and third-person stories that cluster around significant acts, relationships, and commitments in our lives. Our identities are fundamentally relational, formed by the interaction between our own self-conception and the ways in which others see us. As such, others’ stories can enable or prevent us from imaginatively projecting ourselves into a particular future. This can lead us to becoming trapped in our identities; without the possibility of being perceived differently by others, we might find ourselves unable to try different ways of being or acting. The converse is also true, in that others can open up new possible identities by seeing things in us that we have trouble seeing in ourselves. If others in our moral community see us as wicked, beyond redemption and unable to repair our wrongs, we are held in the role of the villain and might come to live into that role without question. Zuko’s story is a perfect illustration of Jean Harvey’s reminder that, “it is just not true that once a thief, always a thief” and that agents can choose to go in a new way, can choose to change. How does Zuko change? We argue that Zuko’s redemption is enabled by those in his moral community holding him in identities in which he is a good person, capable and deserving of care, friendship, and love. While the identity he has in relation to his father and sister closes down many possible futures, his uncle Iroh in particular persists in holding him in an identity in which he is loved and worthy of love. And in doing so - in holding this space for him - Iroh opens up a way for Zuko to exercise agency and choose to become a different kind of person than the one he thought he was destined to be. (shrink)

This chapter talks about the role that others play in who we are as people. Someone's identity who they are as an individual is formed of what philosopher Hilde Lindemann called a “connective tissue of narratives,” all woven together around important values, relationships, projects, and experiences. Lindemann's account of personhood is grounded in the idea that we are fundamentally social beings, always becoming who we are via relationships with others. The work of holding each other in their identities falls on (...) many people and social institutions. In the absence of this moral community, there can be a lot of luck in the process. When Iroh and Zuko reunite at the White Lotus encampment, Iroh tells his nephew that he was not angry, but rather afraid that Zuko had lost his way something that Zuko admits as well Iroh holding Zuko in his personhood is instructive and morally important. (shrink)

Zuko’s plight illuminates the process of aspiration, including common challenges to the aspirant. As Agnes Callard understands it, aspiration typically involves a “deep change in how one sees and feels and thinks.” And this deep change is often intertwined with a change in what contemporary philosopher Christine Korsgaard calls practical identity, a “description under which you value yourself, . . . under which you find your life to be worth living and your actions to be worth undertaking.” But as (...) Zuko shows, practical identities are complex, sometimes unwieldy, and changes in explicit self-conceptions can take work, time, and perhaps some luck to bring about the deep change one aspires to. Even after he explicitly disavows his past actions, Zuko finds himself reverting to past behaviors, doing things that (on some level) he wishes he would not. These actions frustrate him— “Why am I so bad at being good?”— but they are not mere lapses in judgment. They come naturally and express an identity that Zuko had long embraced and cultivated but is now trying to leave behind. The arc of Zuko’s transformation illustrates the interplay between two dimensions of practical identity. On the one hand, as Korsgaard’s account emphasizes, our explicit self-conceptions and values matter. They guide our actions and shape how we see the world. But Zuko’s struggles suggest that such self-conceptions and aspirations are only part of the story. According to Martin Heidegger’s notion of being-in-the-world, our practical identity depends more on our existential engagement with the world than on our explicit self-conceptions. And these different dimensions of practical identity do not always align. As William Blattner writes, “Some of the most challenging conflicts in our lives arise when who we are existentially engaged in being stands in tension with who we think of ourselves as being.” Zuko is frustrated because, despite consciously trying to change, his being-in-the-world conflicts with his Korsgaardian practical identity. His world is still shaped (residually) by an identity he wants to shed. The way Zuko’s world and actions continue to be shaped by an identity he is trying to leave behind highlights a key difficulty of transformation. Zuko’s desire to prove his worth to his father and his rage have so thoroughly permeated his being-in-the-world that they are second nature. They shape his orientation toward the world and fuel his firebending. For better and worse, his spontaneous actions do not always fall in step with his conscious commitments. The same skills and dispositions Zuko previously cultivated as central to his identity now lead to unwanted actions and keep him from aspired-to actions. To become good in the way he wants, Zuko must not only cultivate the dispositions that will allow his aspired-to identity to become part and parcel of his being-in-the-world, but he must clear out or modify the residual influence of his past identity and related dispositions and values. -/- . (shrink)

A table of contents, in lieu of abstract -/- Foreword by Aaron Ehasz -/- Introduction: “We are all one people, but we live as if divided” Helen De Cruz and Johan De Smedt -/- Part I The Universe of Avatar: The Last Airbender -/- 1 Native Philosophies and Relationality in ATLA: It’s (Lion) Turtles All the Way Down Miranda Belarde-Lewis and Clementine Bordeaux 2 Getting Elemental: How Many Elements Are There in Avatar: The Last Airbender? Sofia Ortiz-Hinojosa 3 The Personalities (...) of Martial Arts in Avatar: The Last Airbender Zachary Isrow 4 The End of the World: Nationhood and Abolition in Avatar: The Last Airbender Nicholas Whittaker 5 The Bending World, a Bent World: Supernatural Power and Its Political Implications Yao Lin -/- Part II Water 6 Avatar: The Last Airbender and Anishinaabe Philosophy Brad Cloud 7 “Lemur!” – “Dinner!”: Human–Animal Relations in Avatar: The Last Airbender Daniel Wawrzyniak 8 On the Moral Neutrality of Bloodbending Johnathan Flowers 9 On the Ethics of Bloodbending: Why Is It So Wrong and Can It Ever Be Good? Mike Gregory 10 Mystical Rationality Isaac Wilhelm 11 “I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me”: Repairing the World Through Care Nicole Fice 12 Spirits, Visions, and Dreams: Native American Epistemology and the Aang Gang Justin Skirry and Samuel Skirry -/- Part III Earth 13 Time Is an Illusion: Time and Space in the Swamp Natalia Strok 14 There Is No Truth in Ba Sing Se: Bald-faced Lies and the Nature of Lying Nathan Kellen 15 The Rocky Terrain of Disability Gain in ATLA: Is Toph a Supercrip Stereotype or a Disability Pride Icon? Joseph A. Stramondo 16 The Earth King, Ignorance, and Responsibility Saba Fatima 17 The Middle Way and the Many Faces of Earth Thomas Arnold -/- Part IV Fire 18 The Battle Within: Confucianism and Legalism in the Nation, the Family, and the Soul Kody W. Cooper 19 Not Giving Up on Zuko: Relational Identity and the Stories We Tell Barrett Emerick and Audrey Yap 20 Uncle Iroh, from Fool to Sage – or Sage All Along? Eric Schwitzgebel and David Schwitzgebel 21 Being Bad at Being Good: Zuko’s Transformation and Residual Practical Identities Justin F. White 22 Compassion and Moral Responsibility in Avatar: The Last Airbender: “I was never angry; I was afraid that you had lost your way” Robert H. Wallace -/- Part V Air 23 The Fire Nation and the United States: Genocide as the Foundation for Empire Building Kerri J. Malloy 24 Anarchist Airbenders: On Anarchist Philosophy in ATLA Savriël Dillingh 25 A Buddhist Perspective on Energy Bending, Strength, and the Power of Aang's Spirit Nicholaos Jones and Holly Jones 26 Ahimsa and Aang’s Dilemma: “Everyone … [has] to be treated like they're worth giving a chance” James William Lincoln 27 The Avatar Meets the Karmapa: Interconnections, Friendship, and Moral Training Brett Patterson . (shrink)

Book Three of Avatar: The Last Airbender portrays Uncle Iroh as wise and peace‐loving, in the mold of a Daoist sage. This chapter argues that Iroh's Book One foolishness is a pose, and Iroh's character does not fundamentally change. In Book One, he is wisely following strategies suggested by the ancient Chinese Daoist philosopher Zhuangzi for dealing with incompetent leaders. His seeming foolishness in Book One is in fact a sagacious strategy for minimizing the harm that Prince Zuko would (...) otherwise inflict on himself and others a gentle touch that more effectively helps Prince Zuko find wisdom than would be possible with a more confrontational approach. To understand Iroh's wisdom, it is useful to look to the ancient Daoist philosopher Zhuangzi, specifically his advice for dealing with incompetent rulers by following peacefully along with them, unthreateningly modeling disregard for fame and accomplishment while not being too useful for their ends. (shrink)

The blind bandit -- Zuko alone -- The chase -- Bitter work -- The library.

The main characters in Avatar: The Last Airbender who practice the different styles of bending namely, Katara, Toph, Zuko, and Aang, each draw from the martial arts style that influenced the creation of the bending style, and they also take on personality traits that are representative of the philosophical principles that the martial art is based on. This chapter explores these four main characters, the elemental categories to which they belong, the martial arts that influence their bending, and how (...) their personalities are influenced by the philosophies from which those martial arts are derived. Waterbending is based on the martial art Tajiquan, commonly known as Taiji. Earthbending is based on a particular type of Kung Fu, Hong Jia, in which the practitioner takes rooted stances to create a strong sense of balance so that they cannot be moved. Aang is the last of the airbenders after the Fire Nation's genocide. (shrink)

Confucianism and Legalism are two schools of Chinese philosophy. This chapter explores contrasts between Confucian and Legalist visions of the nation, the family, and the soul through Zuko's journey. It covers the tension between the legacies of his two great‐grandfathers, Sozin and Roku, and shows that the battle within Zuko and the royal family is at root a philosophical struggle between these two differing philosophical visions. Finally, the chapter addresses that Zuko's battle within reflects something true about (...) human nature that the Legalists and the Confucians partly grasped, and which one twentieth‐century villain‐turned‐hero, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, helps clarify. The Legalists emphasized natural tendencies toward evil. Zuko's story suggests that both schools point to something true in human nature, that human beings have the natural capacity for both good and evil, and that it is all too human to be deceived by evil masquerading as good. (shrink)

As Avatar: The Last Airbender illustrates, toughness and hardness can be accompanied by great sensitivity, rigidity by openness, roughness by love. Thus, the show sets up a one‐sided stereotype which over time dissolves into a balanced, at King Bumi rules Omashu, which is introduced as an ordered and well‐organized city, with mighty walls and tough guards who kick out the cabbage merchant due to some rotten cabbages in his load and demand respect for the elderly‐so far, so earthy. The Avatar, (...) is the great bridge between worlds not just between those of spirits and humans, but also between different sides. In Western philosophy, the terms “false alternative,” “false dilemma,” and “false dichotomy” refer to an informal fallacy which revolves around exactly such an illegitimate restriction of options. Philosophy provides the tools to uncover such fallacious reasoning and problematic assumptions. (shrink)

The everydayness of benders reflecting the physical properties of their elements reminds the authors of the work of the late Jicarilla Apache philosopher V.F. Cordova. Cordova describes “bounded space” as a land base defined by geographic features such as mountains, rivers, deserts, lakes, oceans, and canyons. At the beginning of each Avatar: the Last Airbender ( ATLA ) episode, the audience is reminded: “Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony”. The sequence shows four individuals bending the water, earth, (...) fire, and air elements. The specific bounded spaces of the respective nations are reflected in their people and their benders. The ATLA universe provides narratives that point to Indigenous intergenerational ways of knowing. Within the ATLA universe, the authors witness regular connections with the spirit realm or spirit world. Many Indigenous scholars have explored these connections to the “spirit world” as understood in ATLA. (shrink)

In this chapter, the author provides an alternative, Ojibwe‐centered lens through which to view the Avatar: The Last Airbender ( ATLA ) show, as well as explores the importance of non‐Western narratives for youth who come from non‐Western traditions by comparing the unique worldview and history presented in ATLA with an Anishinaabe worldview. Mary Makoons Geniusz defines Anishinaabe as “the self‐designation of several American Indian Peoples, including Ojibwe, Ottawa, and Potawatomi”. A recurring theme in ATLA is the sense of balance, (...) spirituality, and interconnectedness in the world. Basil Johnston, an Ojibwe author, writes that, in an Ojibwe worldview, natural places like valleys, mountains, and woods each have a particular mood that reflects that location's “soul‐spirit”, the community of souls that reside there. (shrink)

Anarchists get a bad rap. More often than not, TV shows, comic‐books, videogames and sometimes even serious journalism portray anarchists as lazy work‐shirkers or as cartoonish evil villains, hell‐bent on causing chaos for chaos's sake. Unfortunately, the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender is not immune to this habit. Book Three of Avatar: The Legend of Korra even features an antagonist, Zaheer, who is nominally an anarchist. Anarchists would never jealously guard knowledge in a personal library, like the owl spirit (...) Wan Shi Tong. Anarchism involves a radical commitment to democracy‐sharing power and an opposition to unjust hierarchies. Anarchism also involves a way of looking at human beings and human interaction. This perspective is encapsulated in the anarchist principle “mutual aid,” which is often ascribed to the Russian biologist and philosopher Pyotr Kropotin. (shrink)

This chapter argues that the Earth King of Ba Sing Se, King Kuei, willfully maintained ignorance of the true state of his kingdom so that he could enjoy the privileges that came with his position, while remaining derelict in his duty to his people. The King maintains this ignorance at the expense of his people, both by condoning certain urban designs and by resisting knowledge that upsets his lifestyle. When the Avatar team first arrive at Ba Sing Se in “City (...) of Walls and Secrets,” Joo Dee tells them that the city has many walls and each wall serves a purpose, but people know there is more to the walls than their utility. This chapter looks at the ways that urban design promote artificial social homogeneity and prevent cross‐economic and cultural socialization. (shrink)

Care ethics holds that, to live a good life, one should work to create and maintain healthy relationships. The feminist orientation of care ethics also reminds us that care isn't a personal matter, but that it is entrenched in social and political contexts. As in personal relationships, one should aim to care about and for one's wider communities in a way that promotes healthy relations. Care ethics appears in Avatar: The Last Airbender in at least two ways. First, the practice (...) of caring is deeply rooted in the moral lives of some of the characters in the series. This chapter focuses on Katara, although similar arguments could be made about Iroh, Aang, and others. Second, care motivates the political goal of the Gaang which, ultimately, is to repair their world so people can live well. This requires the Gaang to address local and global harms caused by Fire Nation imperialism and industrialization. (shrink)

Bloodbending is sometimes referred to as the “puppetmaster technique” because it is the only bending art whose focus is on the direct manipulation and control of a target. Incarcerated in a maximum‐security prison designed specifically to hold waterbenders, Hama was powerless to resist her captors due to their restriction of any liquid that could be used to bend. The bending styles in Avatar: The Last Airbender draw their inspiration from real‐world Chinese martial arts. Karl Friday describes satsujinken in a more (...) complicated way: “when a combatant uses force of will to overpower, immobilize, and strike down an opponent before he can react, this is called ‘setsunin‐to’”. It could be a perfect description of bloodbending as practiced by Hama: a use of already established and morally neutral techniques for the domination and overpowering of a person for egoistic aims. (shrink)

This chapter aims to establish what it is that bloodbending is, according to its treatment in the Avatar: The Last Airbender ( ATLA ) series. It explores why this is particularly bad in ways that other forms of bending are not. The chapter addresses the question about potentially permissible forms of bloodbending and whether this affects or does not affect Katara and the Council of Republic City's decision to ban bloodbending in The Legend of Korra. Bloodbending was discovered by Hama, (...) a southern waterbender who was held in captivity by firebenders in a prison where waterbenders were deprived of water. The practice of bloodbending has brought about objectionable consequences, but in ATLA the consequences are miniscule compared to almost all other forms of bending at the end of the Hundred Year War. In order to show what makes bloodbending particularly objectionable, the chapter describes the philosopher Immanuel Kant. (shrink)

During Aang's intermingling with Fire Lord Ozai, the voice of a Lion Turtle hints at the reason why Aang prevails. “In the era before the Avatar, we bent not the elements but the energy within ourselves. To bend another's energy, your own spirit must be unbendable or you will be corrupted and destroyed.” -/- We use ideas from Buddhist philosophy to answer four questions about the world of Avatar: (1) What is it for a spirit to be unbendable? (2) What (...) is it to bend another's energy? (3) Does Aang's ability to bend Ozai's spirit refute Ozai's accusation that Aang is weak? (4) What does Aang's ability indicate about what it means to be powerful? (shrink)

Aang is unwilling to kill Ozai in order to secure peace. The Lion Turtle's remark indicates that Aang's alternative strategy involves bending Ozai's energy, and that Aang is victorious because his spirit is unbendable while Ozai's presumably is bendable. Buddhist teachings identify five fundamental hindrances that foster duhkha. Aang struggles with all five hindrances, but he ultimately overcomes them and has a true heart. The first hindrance concerns sensory desire, longing for pleasure through the bodily senses. The second hindrance is (...) ill will. The third hindrance is dullness and drowsiness. The fourth hindrance is restlessness and remorse. The fifth and final hindrance is doubt. By virtue of overcoming emotional hindrance and delusion, Aang becomes a person who embraces obstacles and strives to overcome them through compassion rather than control. (shrink)

This chapter examines the nature of deception and lying by attempting to find an understanding of lying which can make sense of the Earth Kingdom citizens' behavior. It deals with analyzing the concepts of deception and lying, and briefly discusses what makes them such a dangerous and problematic phenomenon. Bald‐faced lies are lies where the liar has no intention of deceiving their audience. Sorensen introduces the idea of bald‐faced lies by giving examples of various statements which citizens of oppressive and (...) totalitarian states are forced to make. Bald‐faced lies are the norm within totalitarian states. These lies undermine the trust which serves as the foundation of the communities, and thus split them further apart. In addition, the more falsehoods there are, the harder it becomes to recognize and believe the truth. In communities in which lying is expected, the truth fails to have meaning. (shrink)

As Avatar: The Last Airbender concludes, Aang faces an ethical challenge. Philosopher Terrance McConnell notes that many people think of ethical dilemmas as occurring when a person “regards herself as having moral reasons to do each of two actions, but doing both actions is not possible”. Air Nomads live a quasi‐monastic life of non‐attachment, peace, and freedom. Aang, as an Air Nomad, is generally portrayed as deeply compassionate, even as he struggles with having to grow up in wartime. In contrast (...) to Sublime Ahimsic Practice, Avataric philosophy pulls its inspiration from a different source. Aang's dilemma seems to be genuine: his Avataric duties and Air Nomadic beliefs prescribe non‐negotiable obligations that pull in different directions. Sublime Ahimsic Practice aims to remind us that we are all worthy of being treated like we are worth giving a chance. (shrink)

In the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender (ATLA) and The Legend of Korra (LOK) —let’s call it the Bending World—some people (“benders”) are endowed with telekinetic superpowers to maneuver surrounding objects without physical interaction, by mentally steering (“bending”) one of the four classical “elements of nature” composing the objects: air, fire, water, and earth. Perhaps, in a world where the fundamental laws of nature are radically different from those of our world, the fundamental conditions and manifestations of politics should (...) be radically different too. That, of course, is not to deny that political bodies familiar to us are depicted in ATLA and LOK: tribes, monarchies, autonomous townships, city-states, loose federations, colonial empires, and democracies. Despite those familiar depictions, however, it’s worth contemplating how the existence of supernatural power might fundamentally alter the norms and rationales of politics—and how it might in turn help us better understand our own political reality. (shrink)

In a typical fantasy universe, distribution of supernatural capacities across the population is extremely unequal. The Bending World is no exception. A minority of people are born benders, while the majority are born nonbenders. Granted, no bender appears to be (super)powerful enough to subdue all other benders at once, and political assassinations do occur in the Bending World. The reincarnation of the Avatar can be seen as an instance of the more general problem of leadership succession, a concern in both (...) our world and the Bending World. In time, democracy will crumble in the face of persistent supernatural inequality – whether giving way to another zealous experiment in support of watchful bloodbending “de‐benders,” or being overthrown by someone who happens to be the most powerful bender in the world. All in all, the Bending World is – much more so than ours – a bent world. (shrink)

Genocide results from a complex process of intentions, ideologies, and actions that are put in motion to achieve an outcome that benefits the perpetrators. Genocide is part of the history of the United States and of the Fire Nation in Avatar: The Last Airbender that is typically unquestioned and underplayed. Avatar: The Last Airbender opening refers to the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept the balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. (...) The United States' intentional extermination of diverse peoples is an inseparable part of the processes used to build its continental empire. Seen as a means to securing the land, destroying Indigenous peoples is understood as a necessity, rather than a tactic of empire building. The foundations of the Fire Nation and the United States were built on unstable grounds, causing one to collapse and the other to wrestle with a reckoning on its origins. (shrink)

In the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender ( ATLA ), the special materials called Elements seem to be major and basic components of the universe. In our world, by contrast, air is a mixture of oxygen and other gases, fire is the visible portion of chemical combustion, water is dihydrogen monoxide, and earth is a mixture of various sorts of molecules. Metaphysics deals with the ways things exist or could exist, how they come to be or change, and how (...) these things are related to each other logically and physically. Ancient philosophy might provide some inspiration. This chapter extracts some insights from the ancient Greeks, and then looks into Mesoamerican philosophy. It examines South and East Asian philosophy for clues. If spirits and the Elements are separate kinds of substances, then it is possible that the ATLA universe is dualistic: that there are two types of fundamental things in that universe. (shrink)

The Avatar: The Last Airbender ( ATLA ) series as a whole portrays Aang's journey from being a scared boy, who ran from his training, to becoming Avatar Aang, who is able to face Fire Lord Ozai. ATLA similarly emphasizes such connections in its portrait of Aang's quest, for his journey toward maturity draws on the work and play he shares with many others before the series comes to its conclusion. Ogyen Trinley Dorje expresses a similar awareness of the weight (...) of an exalted title in his experience as the Karmapa. Aang grows in the community, illustrating the Karmapa's words about the importance of relying on others. Dorje highlights the Buddhist teaching that competition creates the illusion that life is a zero‐sum game and that it undermines our happiness. As the Karmapa emphasizes, interconnectedness does not negate individuality. (shrink)

The world of Avatar: The Last Airbender is composed of four nations that are profoundly out of balance. The creators of the show put a lot of care into designing each nation with its own culture. This chapter shows how ethical‐epistemological maps can be changed and adapted to new experiences in the physical world. Human experience, however, is not limited to just the physical for Native Americans. Throughout the series, the Aang Gaang uses Inuit Traditional Knowledge, Inuit Qaujimajatuqangit, found within (...) Southern Water Tribe culture to build their ethical‐epistemological maps. These maps were built step by step from a wide variety of experiences. Luckily, they didn't limit themselves to just their day‐to‐day experiences in the physical world. The Aang Gaang would've missed out on a lot of useful knowledge and guidance had they ignored dreams, visions, and spiritual experiences. (shrink)

When the Avatar and his friends visit a mysterious and mystical swamp, they have visions that call into question the ordinary understanding of time and space. The Avatar must master the four elements and bring balance to the world, but he must also understand the illusion of time and the interconnection of all beings. The three human friends fight with a monster made of plants that turns out to be manipulated by a tribesman, Huu‐the wise man of the waterbender tribe (...) who protects the swamp. Huu explains that this sacred place is one big tree, which expands itself and creates this “whole world,” where everything lives together as a unity. This includes the perception of time and space: “everything is connected.” Plotinus explains that time is not something extrinsic to every soul, but of everyone. In Neoplatonic metaphysics the multiplicity has an original cause, the One, which produces everything from its own nature by emanation. (shrink)

The hashtag #RepresentationMatters is widely used among disability activists on social media because disabled people are often simply ignored in popular culture. Several disabled characters inhabit the Avatar: The Last Airbender universe, but Toph Beifong is the most prominent. Toph is a major character who plays an essential role in the victory over the Fire Nation's imperialism. A rarity in media, Toph's character has as much depth as any member of Team Avatar. The “Irrationally and Infectiously Happy Disabled Person” is (...) a master narrative that contrasts with Disabled Person Better Off Dead, but which is also damaging to disabled people. Barnes argues that hermeneutical injustice appears when disabled people try but fail to make sense of their experience of flourishing with a disability because it is so commonly assumed that disability consigns a person to a horrific, tragic fate. (shrink)

This public philosophy piece examines moral responsibility and alternatives to angry blame as exemplified in the TV show Avatar: The Last Airbender.

One of the awesome things about Avatar: The Last Airbender ( ATLA ) is the attention given to non‐human animals in their different relationships to humans. This chapter focuses broadly on what interactions with animals in ATLA can tell us about humans. Character development and personal growth are key features of ATLA, and the best example of constant learning is definitely Sokka, though Aang has something to teach us too. Sokka's relation to animals here is simple: he's a hunter and (...) animals are food. In short, we can learn from ATLA that when it comes to human–animal relations we should think more critically about our interactions with animals. Sokka demonstrates how contact with animals can encourage one to develop such empathy and thereby re‐think how “natural” it really is to use animals as we please. (shrink)

In this chapter, the author argues that Avatar: the Last Airbender ( ATLA ) actually provides us with what the he will call an abolitionist philosophical account. Abolitionism is a theory of justice – derived primarily from the work of Black radicals – built on claims that global and local injustices can be explained by evil institutions or ways of life that cannot be reformed or changed, but that must be abolished. The world of ATLA is built on a very (...) specific metaphysical picture, the idea that the world is made up of the four elements. The natural causes the social, and so the latter ends up taking the shape of the former. The connection between the nations and the elements is deeper than production design. The swamp is not just an entire ecosystem, consisting of varied and distinct elements, but is in fact “one big, living organism”, a unity. (shrink)

In this chapter, we explore some ways in which reasoning based on mysticism can be rational, focusing on the episode “The Fortuneteller,” in which Aang, Katara, and Sokka save a village from a volcanic eruption. Throughout this episode, Sokka advocates a purely empirical approach to reasoning. The villagers, however, believe that no source of knowledge is more reliable than Aunt Wu, the local fortuneteller. At several points in the episode, Sokka claims that the villagers’ reliance on Aunt Wu is irrational. (...) The villagers claim otherwise: since Aunt Wu has never led them astray, it is rational to rely on her. As we will see, the villagers are right. Their approach to reasoning – based on Aunt Wu’s fortunetelling – is more rational than it initially seems to be. Roughly put, despite their belief in the mystical, the villagers behave in accord with a standard philosophical theory of rational decision-making, a theory of what makes some decisions rational and other decisions not. So Sokka is wrong to claim that the villagers’ reliance on Aunt Wu is irrational. The villagers behave quite rationally. (shrink)