Joseph Walsh

It is plausible to think that practices of caring are partly constituted by a caregiver's commitment to a cared-for. However, discussions of caring often contain no explicit discussion of such commitments, and do not attempt to draw any philosophical conclusions from the nature of caring relations as committed. A discussion of caring practices that emphasizes the importance of commitment therefore has the potential to generate important new insights for our understanding of caring. This essay begins that project by arguing that a commitment-centric conception of caring entails the truth of moral partialism. Although many care-ethicists are sympathetic to partialism, the arguments in its defense remain controversial. As I show in this article, however, partialism is necessarily true given the committed nature of caring. This is because the concept of commitment is itself a necessarily partial one: to say that we are equally committed to everyone or everything is equivalent to saying that we are not committed to anything. Thus, when viewed as a species of commitment, it is part of the concept of caring that it requires us to put the needs of those we care for before the needs of those unknown to us.

Caregiving relationships are often characterized by an imbalance of power between the caregiver and her cared-for. The danger that this power will be abused is a source of serious moral concern. In this article, I argue that the risk of an abuse of power sometimes stems not from the possession of power itself, but from the very nature of caring relationships. This is because carers must be prepared to exercise non-minimal amounts of power over their cared-fors, even if doing so is likely to cause the cared-for distress or even pain. This means that caring itself, rather than the malign influence of power dynamics, generates a risk of unintentional abuse. One of the ways in which this risk can be reduced, I argue, is by trying to avoid an exclusive focus on the outcomes of care, and by paying more attention to the way in which that care is delivered.

In twelfth-century Europe schools flourished in many centres. There were schools in monasteries and cathedrals, primarily for the education of monks and priests but often open also to laymen. In Italian towns, especially, there were lay schools teaching law and commercial skills to fee-paying students. In France, especially, also in England and other countries, there were schools for feepaying students of the liberal arts. The traditional list of the liberal arts included seven: grammar, logic and rhetoric (the "trivium"), and arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music (the "quadrivium"): most of the schools we're talking about taught the trivium, grammar, logic and rhetoric. These three disciplines in one way or other taught language skills; they were sometimes called the artes sermocinales. Students who had completed these "trivial" studies sometimes moved on to theology, or sometimes set up as teachers themselves of grammar, logic and rhetoric. Some students travelled from country to country looking for a good school, and sometimes made their living for a while by teaching before becoming students again.