Michael P. Levine

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.

The authors argue that the 'war on terror' marks the ultimate convergence of war with politics, and the virtual collapse of any meaningful distinction between them. Not only does it signify the breakdown of international relations norms but also the militarization of internal life and political discourse. They explore the 'genealogy' of this situation firstly through the notion of the 'state of exception'—in which sovereign violence becomes indistinct from the law that is supposed to curtail it—and secondly through Foucault's idea that politics is essentially a form of warfare. They suggest that these two ways of approaching the question of violence can only be understood through a racist dimension, which forms the hidden underside of the 'war on terrorism'. In other words, our contemporary situation is characterized by the mobilization not only of fundamentalist and conservative ideologies, but, increasingly, racial antagonisms and prejudices directed towards the Muslim other.

Two theses are central to foundationalism. First, the foundationalist claims that there is a class of propositions, a class of empirical contingent beliefs, that are ‘immediately justified’. Alternatively, one can describe these beliefs as ‘self–evident’, ‘non–inferentially justified’, or ‘self–warranted’, though these are not always regarded as entailing one another. The justification or epistemic warrant for these beliefs is not derived from other justified beliefs through inductive evidential support or deductive methods of inference. These ‘basic beliefs’ constitute the foundations of empirical knowledge. One can give a reason for the justification of a basic belief even though the justification for that belief is not based on other beliefs. Thus, according to Chisholm, if asked what one's justification was for thinking that one knew, presently, that one is thinking about a city one takes to be Albuquerque, one could simply say ‘what justifies me…is simply the fact that I am thinking about a city I take to be Albuquerque’