Mike McNamee

Sports Medicine as an apparent sub-class of medicine has developed apace over the past 30 years. Its recent trajectory has been evidenced by the emergence of specialist international research journals, standard texts, annual conferences, academic appointments and postgraduate courses. Although this field of enquiry and practice lays claim to the title ‘sports medicine’ this paper queries the legitimacy of that claim. Depending upon how ‘sports medicine’ and ‘medicine’ are defined, a plausible-sounding case can be made to show that sports medicine is not in fact a branch of medicine. Rather, it is sometimes closer to practices such as non-therapeutic cosmetic surgery. The argument of the paper is as follows. It begins with a brief statement concerning methodology. We then identify and subscribe to a plausible defining goal of medicine taken from a recognised authority in the field. Then two representative, authoritative, definitions of sports medicine are discussed. It is then shown that acceptance of these definitions of sports medicine generates a problem in that if they are accepted, no necessary commitment to the defining goal of medicine is present within sports medicine. It seems to follow that sports medicine is not medicine. In the final part of the paper a critical response to that conclusion is presented and rebutted. The response is one which rejects the identification of the defining goal of medicine upon which our argument rests

This chapter discusses the role conflict of the educational researcher who comes upon an unprofessional relationship between teacher and pupil. It is argued that the whistleblowing literature in related professions, with its focus on standard conditions and solutions framed as obligations, is inadequate. Reference is made to the idea of ‘guilty knowledge’: the feelings of guilt that attach when one comes to know of harm visited on innocent others, and has no unqualified sense of which way to act. Distinguishing moral from causal responsibility helps to show how blame need not necessarily attach to the guilt-ridden researcher, whichever option she chooses.

Olympism is said to be a philosophy of life blending sport, education, and culture. It seems that under the philosophy of Olympism, doping, including genetic manipulation, should be sanctioned in order to continue pushing the limits of athletic achievement. Mike McNamee, professor of applied ethics at Swansea University, argues that the concept of limits, informed both by Olympism and human nature, ought to provide a structure within which athletic excellence is admired both technically and ethically and that unfettered pursuit of athletic enhancement should be limited by an appreciation for the nature and value of the "spirit of sport."

The therapy/enhancement distinction is a controversial one in the philosophy of medicine, yet the idea of enhancement is rarely if ever questioned as a proper goal of sports medicine. This opens up latitude to those who may seek to use elite sport as a vehicle of legitimation for their nature-transcending ideology. Given recent claims by transhumanists to develop our human nature and powers with the aid of biotechnology, I sketch out two interpretations of the myth of Prometheus, in Hesiod and Aeschylus, which can help frame the moral limits of sports medicine. By way of conclusion I assemble some banal reminders: We are mortal beings; our vulnerability to disease, injury and the waning of our powers, far from something we can overcome or eliminate, represent natural limits both for morality and medicine generally and sports medicine in particular

When Richard Peters wrote Ethics and Education (1966) he could scarcely have imagined the revolutions in ethics that have since occurred. Nor could he have imagined the way philosophers have created curricula and codes of ethics that have been incorporated in the various professional spheres within and beyond education. Whether this signals a decline in the trust that professionals might once have claimed, the diminishing of a strongly internalised sense of responsibility, or merely an extension of the natural developments of professionalisation is not yet clear.

Sports have long played an important role in society. By exploring the evolving link between sporting behaviour and the prevailing ethics of the time this comprehensive and wide-ranging study illuminates our understanding of the wider social significance of sport. The primary aim of _Sports, Virtues and Vices_ is to situate ethics at the heart of sports via ‘virtue ethical’ considerations that can be traced back to the gymnasia of ancient Greece. The central theme running through the book is that sports are effectively modern morality plays: universal practices of moral education for the masses and - when coached, officiated and played properly - a valuable vehicle for ethical development. Including a wealth of contemporary sporting examples, the book explores key ethical issues such as: How the pursuit of sporting excellence can lead to harm Doping, greed and shame Biomedical technology as a challenge to the virtue of elite athletes Defining a ‘virtue ethical account’ in sport Family vices and virtues in sport Written by one of the world's foremost sports philosophers, this book powerfully unites the fields of sports ethics and medical ethics. It is essential reading for all students and scholars with an interest in the ethics and philosophy of sport

This chapter discusses the role conflict of the educational researcher who comes upon an unprofessional relationship between teacher and pupil. It is argued that the whistleblowing literature in related professions, with its focus on standard conditions and solutions framed as obligations, is inadequate. Reference is made to the idea of ‘guilty knowledge’: the feelings of guilt that attach when one comes to know of harm visited on innocent others, and has no unqualified sense of which way to act. Distinguishing moral from causal responsibility helps to show how blame need not necessarily attach to the guilt-ridden researcher, whichever option she chooses.

When Richard Peters wrote Ethics and Education (1966) he could scarcely have imagined the revolutions in ethics that have since occurred. Nor could he have imagined the way philosophers have created curricula and codes of ethics that have been incorporated in the various professional spheres within and beyond education. Whether this signals a decline in the trust that professionals might once have claimed, the diminishing of a strongly internalised sense of responsibility, or merely an extension of the natural developments of professionalisation is not yet clear.