Preparation for the Spelling Congress is underway. The more people will send in their proposals, the better. On the other hand (or so it seems to me), the fewer people participate in this event and the less it costs in terms of labor/labour and money, the more successful it will turn out to be. The fate of English spelling has been discussed in passionate terms since at least the 1840s.
The post Etymology gleanings for March 2016 appeared first on OUPblog.
At the outset of an undergraduate Shakespeare course I often ask my students to make a list of ten things that may not, or do not, exist. I say “things” because I want to be as vague as possible. Most students submit lists featuring zombies and mermaids, love charms and time travel. Hogwarts is a popular place name, as are Westeros and Middle Earth. But few students venture into religious territory.
The post Shakespeare and conscience appeared first on OUPblog.
Debates about conscience arise constantly in national and international news. Appropriately so, because these debates provide a vital continuing forum about issues of ethical conduct in our time.
A recent and heated debate in the United States concerns the killing of an unarmed African American youth named Michael Brown by police officer Darren Wilson in Ferguson, Missouri. Questioned by a reporter after learning that he would not be indicted by a grand jury after the shooting, Wilson declared himself untroubled by matters of conscience, explaining that “The reason I have a clean conscience is because I know I did my job right.” In reply, Brown family lawyer Benjamin Crump stated that “It was very hurtful to the parents when he said he had a clear conscience. They were taken aback…. I expected him to say my heart is heavy, my conscience is troubled. He didn’t say that.” Brown’s mother, Lesley McSpadden added of the shooting, in which officer Wilson fired six bullets into Brown’s body, “His conscience is clear? How could your conscience be clear after killing somebody even if it was an accidental death?”
At large in this disagreement are two different and contending understandings of conscience. In the police officer’s view, conscience is an external matter, involving adherence to the code and norms of one’s peers and profession; in this case, a matter of doing one’s job correctly, performing one’s duty as dictated by training and the values of fellow officers. In the family’s view, conscience is an internal matter, involving personal and subjective decisions about right and wrong.
This is a recurring debate, as old as conscience itself. Is conscience a private matter of individual ethics or is it a public trust defined by civil codes and collective agreements about duty and responsibility? Sometimes the answer seems rather evident. Arguments about “duty” and “following orders” were brushed aside at the Nuremberg Trials, and few disagree with the verdict. At other times, though, the issue is more closely contested. When Martin Luther pled the anti-institutional promptings of his personal conscience (“This I believe . . .”) before the Diet at Worms, and prosecutor Johann Eck countered with the contrary conclusions of Catholic theology, opinion divided according to the beliefs and loyalties of the beholders.
The very etymology of “conscience” registers its division. The Latin conscientia consists of two elements: scientia (knowledge or awareness, which may be personal in nature) modified by con (meaning “together” or “together with” suggesting that this knowledge should be shared or collective in nature). Conscience thus operates both internally and externally, as knowledge at once personal and shared, sitting at the very boundaries of the self.
This ambiguity was evident in conscience’s first full-dress appearance on the Western European stage. Augustine, in his Confessions, describes a chiding visit from his own conscience (conscientia mea), speaking to him in a voice which is and is not his own, critiquing his irresolute state of mind about the matter of Christian conversion, but also citing the public example of others who have already converted. Augustine’s conscience achieves a balance, between the highly personal on the one hand and more collective decision-making on the other. But we’re not all as subtle as Augustine.
The location of conscience has shifted from inner to outer and back again, throughout its long history. In the Middle Ages, conscience was normally treated as a collective matter, a set of norms or beliefs held in common by all persons.With the Reformation and the fragmentation of religious belief, the idea of a personal conscience–of “my conscience” and “your conscience”–surged to the fore, especially in vigorously Protestant circles. Then, with a general moderation of Christian belief in the Enlightenment, came a revival of collective conscience, a view that certain norms were shared by all reasonable persons. Adam Smith and Immanuel Kant located conscience in the person of an impartial and objective observer, standing outside the self and speaking from the standpoint of a broader social platform.
These disagreements will never be resolved. Some parties will always situate conscience in community values or professional codes of practice, even as others treat it as an inner capacity or inviolable personal resource. The question is, are these disagreements to be taken as signs of conscience’s weakness or the source of its strength? After wrestling with these questions in the course of writing my Very Short Introduction, I’ve come to the conclusion that, yes, conscience is inherently ambiguous and may be viewed in this respect as imperfect. But that its ambiguity is also the key to its unprecedented survival, its continuing relevance to seemingly incompatible belief systems. A robust view of conscience must embrace both aspects: conscience as general consensus and conscience as personal code: conscience as public duty but also conscience as personal responsibility.
My purpose here isn’t to retry the Michael Brown case, but to think about what the standpoint of conscience brings to the discussion. A robust definition of conscience must embrace its long and rich history; it must, that is, include a sense of its internal as well as its external claims. Just “doing one’s duty” isn’t enough; Michael Brown’s family is correct in its belief that the taking of a life under any circumstances should involve some perturbations of personal conscience.
The post Conscience in the contemporary world appeared first on OUPblog.
World Philosophy Day was created by UNESCO in 2005 in order to “win recognition for and give strong impetus to philosophy and, in particular, to the teaching of philosophy in the world”. To celebrate World Philosophy Day, we have compiled a list of what we consider to be the most essential philosophy titles. We are also providing free access to several key journal articles and online products in philosophy so that you can explore this discipline in more depth. Happy reading!
Free: Why Science Hasn’t Disproved Free Will by Alfred R. Mele
Does free will exist? The question has fueled heated debates spanning from philosophy to psychology and religion. The answer has major implications, and the stakes are high. To put it in the simple terms that have come to dominate these debates, if we are free to make our own decisions, we are accountable for what we do, and if we aren’t free, we’re off the hook.
Philosophy Bites Again by David Edmonds and Nigel Warburton
This is really a conversation, and conversations are the best way to see philosophy in action. It offers engaging and thought-provoking conversations with leading philosophers on a selection of major philosophical issues that affect our lives. Their subjects include pleasure, pain, and humor; consciousness and the self; free will, responsibility, and punishment; the meaning of life and the afterlife.
Think: A Compelling Introduction to Philosophy by Simon Blackburn
Here at last is a coherent, unintimidating introduction to the challenging and fascinating landscape of Western philosophy. Written expressly for “anyone who believes there are big questions out there, but does not know how to approach them.”
What Does It All Mean? A Very Short Introduction to Philosophy by Thomas Nagel
In this cogent and accessible introduction to philosophy, the distinguished author of Mortal Questions and The View From Nowhere brings the central problems of philosophical inquiry to life, demonstrating why they have continued to fascinate and baffle thinkers across the centuries.
Riddles of Existence: A Guided Tour of Metaphysics by Earl Conee and Theodore Sider
Two leading philosophers explore the most fundamental questions there are, about what is, what is not, what must be, and what might be. It has an informal style that brings metaphysical questions to life and shows how stimulating it can be to think about them.
Killing in War by Jeff McMahan
This is a highly controversial challenge to the consensus about responsibility in war. Jeff McMahan argues compellingly that if the leaders are in the wrong, then the soldiers are in the wrong.
Reason in a Dark Time by Dale Jamieson
In this book, philosopher Dale Jamieson explains what climate change is, why we have failed to stop it, and why it still matters what we do. Centered in philosophy, the volume also treats the scientific, historical, economic, and political dimensions of climate change.
Poverty, Agency, and Human Rights edited by Diana Tietjens Meyers
Collects thirteen new essays that analyze how human agency relates to poverty and human rights respectively as well as how agency mediates issues concerning poverty and social and economic human rights. No other collection of philosophical papers focuses on the diverse ways poverty impacts the agency of the poor.
Aha! The Moments of Insight That Shape Our World by William B. Irvine
This book incorporates psychology, neurology, and evolutionary psychology to take apart what we can learn from a variety of significant “aha” moments that have had lasting effects. Unlike other books on intellectual breakthroughs that focus on specific areas such as the arts, Irvine’s addresses aha moments in a variety of areas including science and religion.
On What Matters: Volume One by Derek Parfit
Considered one of the most important works in the field since the 19th century, it is written in the uniquely lucid and compelling style for which Parfit is famous. This is an ambitious treatment of the main theories of ethics.
The Emergent Multiverse: Quantum Theory according to the Everett Interpretation by David Wallace
Quantum physics is the most successful scientific theory we have. But no one knows how to make sense of it. We need to bite the bullet – it’s common sense that must give way. The universe is much stranger than we can think.
The Best Things in Life: A Guide to What Really Matters by Thomas Hurka
An engaging, accessible survey of the different things that can make life worth living: pleasure, knowledge, achievement, virtue, love, and more. A book that considers what really matters in one’s life, and making decisions around those values.
What should I do?: Plato’s Crito’ in Philosophy: A Very Short Introduction by Edward Craig
Plato, born around 427 BC, is not the first important philosopher, with Vedas of India, the Buddha, and Confucius all pre-dating him. However, he is the first philosopher to have left us with a substantial body of complete works that are available to us today, which all take the form of dialogues. This chapter focuses on the dialogue called Crito in which Socrates asks ‘What should I do?’
A biography of John Locke in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography
A philosopher regarded as one of the most influential of Enlightenment thinkers, John Locke was born on 29th August 1632 in Somerset, England. In the late 1650s he became interested in medicine, which led easily to natural philosophy after being introduced to these new ideas of mechanical philosophy by Robert Boyle. Discover what happened next in Locke’s life with this biography
‘Computing Machinery and Intelligence’ from Mind, published in 1950.
In this seminal paper, celebrated mathematician and pioneer Alan Turing attempts to answer the question, ‘Can machines think?’, and thus introduces his theory of ‘the imitation game’(now known as the Turing test) to the world. Turing skilfully debunks theological and ethical arguments against computational intelligence: he acknowledges the limitations of a machine’s intellect, while boldly exposing those of man, ultimately laying the groundwork for the study of artificial intelligence – and the philosophy behind it.
‘Phenomenology as a Resource for Patients’ from The Journal of Medicine and Philosophy, published in 2012
Patient support tools have drawn on a variety of disciplines, including psychotherapy, social psychology, and social care. One discipline that has not so far been used to support patients is philosophy. This paper proposes that a particular philosophical approach, phenomenology, could prove useful for patients, giving them tools to reflect on and expand their understanding of their illness.
Do you have any philosophy books that you think should be added to this reading list? Let us know in the comments below.
Headline image credit: Rays at Burning Man by foxgrrl. CC-BY-NC-SA-2.0 via Flickr.
The post World Philosophy Day reading list appeared first on OUPblog.
By Paul Strohm
Among ethical concepts, conscience is a remarkable survivor. During the 2000 years of its existence it has had ups and downs, but has never gone away. Originating as Roman conscientia, it was adopted by the Catholic Church, redefined and competitively claimed by Luther and the Protestants during the Reformation, adapted to secular philosophy during the Enlightenment, and is still actively abroad in the world today. Yet the last few decades have been cloudy ones for conscience, a unique time of trial.
The problem for conscience has always been its precarious authorization. It is both a uniquely personal impulse and a matter of institutional consensus, a strongly felt personal view and a shared norm upon which all reasonable or ethical people are expected to agree. As a result of its mixed mandate, conscience performs in differing and even contradictory ways. It lends support to the dissenting individual or exponent of unpopular or even aberrant claims. But it is also summoned in support of the norm, and broadly accepted ethical standards.
Each of these authorizations—the personal and the institutional—has its pitfalls. The fervent individual, summoned by burning personal conviction about the rightness of his or her cause, lies open to suspicions of solipsism or arrogance. But, on the other hand, institutionally or state-sponsored conscience, or conscience speaking for settled public opinion, risk complacency or ethically stunted orthodoxy. One recalls the predicament of Huckleberry Finn, who suffers what he identifies as conscience pangs for his decision to assist Jim to escape from enslavement, when this bourgeois or ‘churchified’ conscience is obviously a false friend and enemy to his superior ethical intuitions.
Despite such issues, conscience remains a force for much good in the world. Its most crucial function, and perhaps the one most in need of support, is its encouragement to the private individual struggling with institutional tyrannies—most dramatically, with various forms of state tyranny. We have witnessed the incarceration and continued surveillance of China’s Ai Weiwei. Ai has recently been called ‘China’s conscience’, but his more urgent need might be less public and more personal, the need to enjoy his own conscience undisturbed by governmental or other external intervention. Remarkable individuals like Ai have proven willing to endure sacrifice for conscientious belief–and sacrifice they have. Recently Lasantha Wickramatunge, a courageous Sri Lankan journalist, gave his life to expose corruption. He wrote a farewell dispatch, which amounted to his own obituary letter, which concluded, ‘There is a calling that is yet above high office, fame, lucre and security. It is the call of conscience.’ Salman Taseer, governor of the Punjab province in Pakistan, declared in a 1 Jaunary 2011 television interview that ‘If I do not stand by my conscience, then who will?’—three days before his assassination. Less dramatically, but still tellingly, one may consider some of the smaller cases of conscience that people confront daily. Explaining his break with his political party to support a faltering gay marriage bill, Fred W. Thiele Jr, a New York state Assemblyman, explained, ‘There’s that little voice inside of you that tells you when you’ve done something right, and when you’ve done something wrong. . . That little voice kept gnawing away at me.’
0 Comments on Conscience today as of 1/1/1900
Hmmm...surely it is a writer's duty to challenge (but not destroy) the reader's comfort zone sometimes?
Fascinating post as usual, Mrs Philip. Bad things happen to people and writers give us access and valuable insight to such events. The vast majority of readers are more mature and understanding because of these insights. I suggest that it works when the event comes from an organic development of the character. BUT if it is used as a plot device and is simply there to shock then that is A Bad Thing. There's probably more I should say, but it's early and I have to get ready for work.
Richard Peck, the Newbery Prize winner, when recently asked the one word that described his craft as a children's writer said: "Responsibility."
If that is so, I guess our role as writers for young people is to ask - is this responsible?
And the answer can swing both ways because one of our greatest responsibilities as children's authors is to deliver truth.
Brilliant and necessary blog, Gillian. As an author writing for adults I'm up against this all the time - the inability of some editors and readers to distinguish between an author depicting something and condoning it. Candy is spot-on about responsibility & truth when the readers are young. When they're adult I think my literary litmus test for something dodgy or disturbing is, is this being used to evoke compassion and/or understanding? If it isn't, then it's being used to entertain (the author or the reader)and we all have our own comfort zones for that.
What a thought-provoking post! I haven't been able to stop thinking about this one. We naturally filter our depictions of violence, according to age range - sword fighting in a 7+ title will have lunges and parries but little real sense of the pain and bloodshed of violence. I think that level of self-editing happens fairly instinctively. Crucially in your post, Gillian, you put a book down when the author's personality wormed to the surface in his depictions. Is this why some violence feels wrong on the page? When there's a sense of enjoyment over descriptive authenticity?
Great post, Gillian.
Yes, particularly as writers for children, but also when writing for adults the same applies. We do need to have some kind of weathervane about what is acceptable and what is not responsible writing and I agree, Candy, truth should be the basis of what we write.
The dilemma is where does truth clash with responsibility, and who is the judge?
It is a difficult line at times but I think we need to be honest about our motives and always be prepared to fight for what we believe is right for the book we are writing.
Excellent post. I agree with Linda S, and with Michael, that we must be honest about our motives, and true to our characters. What can offend me more than any particular issue is anxious, paranoid conservatism. The UK is a far more liberal country than just ten years ago, and this is largely because many once difficult issues are part of the public conversation.
I'm not easily offended I'll grant you but for me it's always about the authorial tone. For me any good book looses you in the characters be they amoral or otherwise - the ones I personally find offesnsive are those where you get an overbearing sense that author is revelling in or thinks they are cool because of the introduction of 'offensive' material. It's a hard thing to pin down but it's all in the subtelties..
I hope that makes sense!
Wow, what an interesting post. I have never thought that a writer could get a kick out of mistreating a character. Hmmm.... I am going to have to go into think mode now.
This is a really interesting post and something I am consideringin depth for my PhD. I have some issues with Melvin Burgess's book Nicholas Dane. There is an incidence of male on male child abuse. The authorial voice steps in and states that details are not necessary. I have two problems with this a) if it was male on female abuse would it be written about? and b) but stepping in as the author it is immediately impled that child abuse is something that shouldn't be spoken about and hidden away. Leaving any child looking for a source to help them understand what they might be going through feeling dirty. It could have been implied with a door closing. Nothing need to be described if that was the issue. The book then goes on to have one of the most violent and graphic murders I have read for a long time. I think we all do have responsibilities as writers to offer them a place teenagers in particular can escape and experiment vicariously but this has to be done in a sensitive way. And we need to be aware of what we are writing.
Great post, Gillian, full of the questions we should all keep asking ourselves. I've blogged about it myself in the past but, like you, I'm not sure I can resolve it properly. Gratuitous sex and violence are out for me, both as reader and writer, and rape is still so badly handled in society (by press, police and many 'ordinary' folk) that it really needs serious attention. I had a rape in my second book but it was necessary for the plot (which, thank God, the Telegraph's reviewer acknowledged). I didn't enjoy writing it and, in fact, my wife suggested various changes which would never have occurred to me. I wonder what distance there would be between male and female respondents to a questionnaire on rape in fiction.
Great post, Gillian - and I think Candy pretty much hits the nail on the head with her question. It's always a fine line though.
Thanks for all the fascinating comments everybody - amazing how this helps clarify things in one's own mind. Yes, I think as several people said, Candy hit the mark when she said we have responsibilities, but those responsibilities include telling the truth (I've never been keen on the dies-by-wave-of-magic-wand thing, but of course for younger readers - if someone has to die - there's no other way one can really address it).
I think catdownunder also nails it with the comment we should 'challenge but not destroy' readers' comfort zones.
vh, I haven't read Nicholas Dane, but will do.
And Bill, yes - it's good that we stay constantly aware. That's an interesting question about male reactions v female, by the way...
Catching up and coming to this late, Gillian. I too think it's a brilliant post, and has given me much food for thought. Adults (but never children) ask me continually how I 'get round' the rape, incest, bestiality and violence in the Greek myths. I answer that I go to the heart of the story and draw out the kernel, and that as the 7-9's do not know the 'tricky bits' are there in the first place, they don't notice if I skirt round them as long as the story is exciting and engaging. They can investigate further when they're older. I do think it's about recognising when things are appropriate and, as Candy said and so many have agreed with, being responsible. Like you, I've only ever been disturbed by books when I felt that the author was somehow just too enmeshed with his (and for me it's always been male writers except for once) killer or whatever. I recognise it by the queasy feeling of 'not-rightness'. But that's my own personal reaction--others may love what I choose to stop reading. Rape is such an emotive subject--but how can we bring it out of the shadows and make it less shameful to be a victim unless we take a deep breath and write about it honestly? Not just for the sake of plot or some idea that it's trendy to put a bit of that in a YA novel--but because we care about telling the truth as best we can.
Late too, Gillian... because I am hard at work on the final draft of a YA book at the moment that has a rape at its heart. It's taken me 5 years to get this far, and your post makes me wonder if maybe this is because I am struggling with some sense of responsibility. All my previous books have been published for the 9-11 market (even Alexander the Great's atrocities in I am the Great Horse!), but if I took the rape out of this one the story would simply not be true to itself and the entire book would fall apart. And so I am working very hard on making the characters human, but also using a fantasy layer in an effort to avoid the "sick" stuff that I think some people are talking about here. Of course this book is not contracted yet, so it might still prove a bit too challenging for the YA market... time will tell!