Michael P. Levine

William James, one of America’s most original philosophers and psychologists, was concerned above all with the manner in which philosophy might help people to cope with the vicissitudes of daily life. Writing around the turn of the twentieth century, James experienced firsthand, much as we do now, the impact upon individuals and communities of rapid changes in extant values, technologies, economic realities, and ways of understanding the world. He presented an enormous range of practical recommendations for coping and thriving in such circumstances, arguing consistently that prospects for richer lives and improved communities rested not upon trust in spiritual or material prescriptions, but rather on clear thinking in the cause of action. This volume seeks to demonstrate how James’s astonishingly rich corpus can be used to address contemporary issues and to establish better ways for thinking about the moral and practical challenges of our time. In the first part, James’s theories are applied directly to issues ranging from gun control to disability, and the ethics of livestock farming to the meaning of “progress” in race relations. The second part shows how James’s theories of ethics, experience, and the self can be used to “clear away” theoretical matters that have inhibited philosophy’s deployment to real-world issues. Finally, part three shows how individuals might apply ideas from James in their personal lives, whether at work, contemplating nature, or considering the implications of their own habits of thought and action.

While some may argue that universities are in a state of crisis, others claim that we are living in a post-university era; a time after universities. If there was a battle for the survival of the institution, it is over and done with. The buildings still stand. Students enrol and may attend lectures, though let’s be clear—most do not. But virtually nothing real remains. What some mistakenly take to be a university is, in actuality, an ‘uncanny’ spectral presence; ‘the nagging presence of an absence … a “spectralized amnesiac modernity with its delusional totalizing systems”’. It is the remains and remnants of the university.[1]Overstatement? Perhaps. We think many if not most administrators, at all levels, will likely dissent. So too will many if not most teachers and students. Trying to determine whether this is correct, or to what extent, by consulting polls and reading opinion pieces in various education journals and professional papers is likely to be of little help. In any case, it is the hypothesis, along with closely related ones, and concerns about what can be done in the circumstances, that have generated this special issue.This special issue highlights and illustrates that most of the contested issues regarding educational theory and practice central to how universities and schools should be, and how they should be run, are first and foremost questions of value rather than fact. They are questions regarding what we want, but more importantly what we should want, from our universities and schools; about what they should be and what students, teachers and administrators should be doing to facilitate this.[1] See Cox and Levine and Boaks, Cox and Levine.

Contemporary discussions about the nature of leadership abound. But what constitutes a good leader? Are ethics and leadership even compatible? Accounts of leadership often lie at either end of an ethical spectrum: on one end are accounts that argue ethics are intrinsically linked to leadership; on the other are (Machiavellian) views that deny any such link-intrinsic or extrinsic. Leadership appears to require a normative component of virtue; otherwise 'leadership' amounts to no more than mere power or influence. But are such accounts coherent and justifiable? Approaching a controversial topic, this series of essays tackles key questions from a range of philosophical perspectives, considering the nature of leadership separate from any formal office or role and how it shapes the world we live in.

Michael Levine's book is the first comprehensive study of pantheism as a philosophical position. Spinoza's Ethics, finished in 1675, has long been seen as the most complete attempt at explaining and defending pantheism. Historically, however, pantheism has numerous forms and Spinoza's version is best considered as one among many variations on pantheistic themes. Levine manages to disentangle the concept from Spinoza; this book is a broad philosophical and historical survey of pantheism itself. There is much confusion about what pantheism, this "form of... non-theistic monotheism," actually is. The early part of the book deals with definitions of pantheism and examines critical distinctions between them. Chapter 2 is an analysis, both historical and contemporary, of the concept of pantheism. What is "unity" in pantheism's "all-inclusive divine unity"? Pantheism is compared to theism in Chapter 3. In Chapter 4 an account is presented of how some philosophical problems usually associated with theism are to be recast in pantheism and how, if at all, they might be resolved. The later chapters discuss the relationship between belief and practice. What are the religious implications of pantheism in terms of practice? Are there grounds - both philosophical and religious - for believing that pantheism presents the genuine alternative to theism that many contemporary non-theists think it does?

In “Narrative Explanations: The Case of History,” Paul A. Roth attempts to defend the legitimacy of narrative explanation in history against two central objections—the “methodological” and the “metaphysical.” Like Roth, I find the category of narrative explanation acceptable even if it is problematic, and even if the notions of “narrative,” “explanation,” and “narrative explanation” are not altogether clear. The philosophically grounded “methodological” objections to narrative explanation are often, though not invariably, based on an acceptance of some form of positivism and a Hempelian “governing-law model” of explanation. As Roth points out, this in turn is based on allegiance to the thesis of the methodological unity of empirical science, whether the allegiance be overt, closeted, or cryptic.

This book is divided into two parts. The first is Earman's harsh critique of Hume's essay and its conclusions. The second part of the book contains selections from primary texts of Locke, Spinoza, Clarke, and others, along with the text "Of Miracles," recording changes that Hume made. There is little in the way of explanation, a single paragraph in the preface, as to why these texts have been selected. Presumably, Earman sees each of these as containing something significant to contribute to the formulation of his theses in the first part of the book—especially his claim that Hume's arguments are largely derivative.

Philosophers often distinguish in some way between two senses of life's meaning. Paul Edwards terms these a ‘cosmic’ and ‘terrestrial’ sense. The cosmic sense is that of an overall purpose of which our lives are a part and in terms of which our lives must be understood and our purposes and interests arranged. This overall purpose is often identified with God's divine scheme, but the two need not necessarily be equated. The terrestrial sense of meaning is the meaning people find in their own lives apart from the place of their lives in any ultimate end or context

Pantheism is a metaphysical and religious position. Broadly defined it is the view that (1) "God is everything and everything is God ... the world is either identical with God or in some way a self-expression of his nature" (H.P. Owen). Similarly, it is the view that (2) everything that exists constitutes a 'unity' and this all-inclusive unity is in some sense divine (A. MacIntyre). I begin with an account of what the pantheist's ethical position is formally likely to be (e.g. objectivist etc.). I then discuss the relationship between pantheism and ecology in the context of the search for the metaphysical and ethical foundations for an ecological ethic. It is claimed that it is no accident that pantheism is often looked to for such foundations

The first part of this essay asks: What is the function, purpose and value of a museum? Has any museologist or philosopher given a credible account of philosophical problems associated with museums? Is there any set of properties shared by the diverse entities called museums? Overgeneralization is the principal problem here. The essay then examines a central kind of museum experience; one that invokes and relies upon nostalgia. I argue that the attraction of museums are varied but are best explained affectively and in terms of the orectic rather than cognitively conatively. Although this need not be taken as conflicting with the idea that museums are focused on scholarship, it is more consonant with the claim that exhibitions are central. Museums may at times both pique and satisfy our curiosity. However it is a mistake to see ‘curiosity’ as merely, or even primarily, a matter of cognition.

Let us follow Robert Oakes in describing a self-authenticating experience of God as one that ‘would have the epistemic uniqueness of guaranteeing –all by itself – its veridicality to the person who had it.’ The idea that there could be self-authenticating experiences of God has been criticized often in recent years. It seems that the only experiences that could be self-authenticating are those about one's own current psychological states. Nevertheless, the individual who claims to have such an experience of God is clearly using ‘experience’ in such a way as to suppose that one's experience of God is logically independent of the existence of God, but still self-authenticating

In this paper I dispute Eliot Deutsch's claim [See Deutsch, Eliot (1996) Self-deception: a comparative study, in: Roger T. Ames and Wimal Dissanayake (Eds) Self and Deception: a cross-cultural enquiry (Albany, State University of New York Press), pp. 315-326] that examining self-deception from the perspective of non-Western traditions (i.e. how it is understood in those cultures) can help us to better understand the nature of the phenomenon in one's own culture. Although the claim appears to be uncontrover-sial and perhaps even self-evident, I shall argue that it is fundamentally mistaken. What is important about both the claim and my critical assessment of it is not what it tells us about self-deception. I shall show that it tells us little about self-deception; that Deutsch confuses ignorance with self-deception; and that he straightforwardly equivocates on the concept. Instead, what is interesting is what Deutsch's treatment of self-deception in comparative perspective can tell us about comparative philosophy. The significance of what follows in this paper is less about self-deception than it is about comparative philosophy.