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1.
Abstract. This article looks at policies of the British Government relating to teaching, the curriculum, and research and how they impact Theology and Religious Studies (TRS). It reflects on the use of Government funding to steer research outputs and to focus such activity on a small number of selected institutions. It further discusses Government attempts to define degree standards and “the boundaries and the internal geography” of the subject by producing “benchmarking guidelines” to which each department must adhere. The paper concludes with reflections on the fears of Government control of the curriculum. Underlying much of the discussion is a sense of the differences between Theology and Religious Studies in North America and Britain. To emphasize the point that this paper expresses personal views based on my own experience I have used a more informal and personal style than is my custom in publications. It is relevant to outline the experience which has fashioned my views. Prior to moving to Liverpool I have held Chairs at Manchester in Comparative Religion, where I also served as Dean of the Faculty of Theology, and London University's School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) where I started the Department for the Study of Religion. I have served as President of the national body for the subject, the Association of University Departments of Theology and Religious Studies (AUDTRS) for three years; on the research panels of the two main bodies to which people in Theology and Religious Studies apply for research grants (the British Academy and the Arts and Humanities Research Board); on two national research assessment panels and co‐chaired the Benchmarking Panel for Theology and Religious Studies (the work of the panels is outlined below). I was a member of a team funded by the Home Office to produce a report to inform Government policy on possible legislation on Religious Discrimination. The relevance of each of these will become clear in the course of the article.  相似文献   

2.
A review of my undergraduate students’ commentaries on two of Bartky's essays serves as the occasion for elaborating on Bartky's analyses of factors that sustain and perpetuate the subjection and disempowerment of women. In my elaboration I draw from John Stuart Mill's statement: “In the case of women, each individual of the subject-class is in a chronic state of bribery and intimidation combined.” I conclude by raising the question, How is personal transformation possible?  相似文献   

3.
The last issue of this journal published an exchange between Marilyn Friedman and me that had taken place at a lively session of the American Philosophical Association in December, 1990. Friedman's paper “‘They Lived Happily Ever After’: Sommers on Women and Marriage” was a barbed critique of my views on the family. My rejoinder, “Do These Feminist Like Women?” pointed out that Friedman's orthodox brand of feminism was not sensitive to the values and aspirations of most American women. That issue of the Journal of Social Philosophy also published a third paper of Friedman's “Does Sommers Like Women?” twice as long again as my rejoinder. This second critique went further into earlier writings of mine raising new issues, and criticizing me in rather unpleasant ad feminam ways. If an uncharacteristic asperity colors my response, it is because I do not find myself able to deal coolly and impersonally with the accusation that I intentionally misrepresent some of the feminist philosophers I criticize.  相似文献   

4.
In my previous paper “Has the later Wittgenstein accounted for necessity?” I argued against the conventionalist account of necessity proposed by Wittgenstein and his followers. Glock has addressed some of my objections in his paper “Necessity and Language: In Defence of Conventionalism”. This brief rejoinder considers Glock's replies to three of those objections. In the course of doing so, I revisit Wittgenstein's explanation of the special status of necessary propositions, the supposedly arbitrary nature of colour‐grammatical propositions, and the relation between rules and modality.  相似文献   

5.
6.
Abstract

In my “response to the contributors” I emphasize that I was moved to write my book in response to the question “Why are so many well-trained colleagues, young and old, having so much difficulty developing satisfying analytic practices?” To answer that question I proposed to explore my experience successfully developing and maintaining an analytic practice.

In attempting to answer the question I inadvertently stumbled upon a revolutionary (with a “small r”) answer to the problem. I discovered, in my attitudes and in my way of working in a consultation and the early phase of an analytic collaboration, a new “concrete puzzle solution” to the problem of how to help a prospective, often reluctant collaborator give analysis a “try.”

My book emphasizes my view that courses on “analyzability” and differential diagnosis are based on psychiatric rather than psychoanalytic diagnostic schema and may interfere with candidates' ability to learn how to create analytic patients.

Since I was a candidate, courses on analyzability have always seemed to me to resemble an exclusive club, deciding whom to exclude and whom to admit, rather than a procedure based on sound clinical experience. Analytic experience has demonstrated that it is not possible in a consultation to predict accurately the outcome of an analysis. To make matters worse, it is probable that an analyst whose mind is focused on the task of evaluating a prospective analysand contributes to creating an environment in which certain patients are experienced as sicker than they might otherwise be.

In spite of the fact that it is not possible in a consultation to predict accurately the outcome of an analysis, many experienced “senior” analysts believe an analyst can and should be evaluative and selective. In their discussions of the subject, they focus primarily on characteristics of the patient rather than the match.

In my book I emphasize that in a consultation there are advantages in focusing on the patient's responses to the idea of engaging in a trial of analysis. The issue of the match and the particular time in their lives are significant from my perspective. The analyst's gender, age, personality, and related state of mind may be as important in effecting the outcome of a trial as any feature of the patient's mind.

My book shifts the emphasis of the focus of inquiry in a consultation from the patient to the analytic couple. It offers a different way of teaching candidates to work with prospective collaborators.  相似文献   

7.
In a recent paper in this journal, “How should libertarians conceive of the location and role of indeterminism?” Christopher Evan Franklin critically examines my libertarian view of free will and attempts to improve upon it. He says that while Kane's influential [view] offers many important advances in the development of a defensible libertarian theory of free will and moral responsibility?…?[he made] “two crucial mistakes in formulating libertarianism” – one about the location of indeterminism, the other about its role – “both of which have helped fan the flame of the luck argument”. In this paper, I respond to Franklin's criticisms, arguing that, so far from making it significantly more difficult to answer objections about luck and control, as he claims, giving indeterminism the location and role I do makes it possible to answer such objections and many other related objections to libertarian free will. A central theme of this paper will emerge in my responses: In order to make sense of freedom of will in general and to do justice to the complex historical debates about it, one must distinguish different kinds of control agents may have over events and correspondingly different kinds of freedom they may possess.  相似文献   

8.
Here I support my position in “Do Good Feminists Compete?” against the suggestion that competing with others weakens rather than strengthens one's sense of self.  相似文献   

9.
Abstract

In a recent dream I am with my German childhood girl friend. We are in a German town. There is an ominous feeling in the air. I have just learned that a young Jewish man who has lost his reason is running through town, seeking murderous revenge for the crimes of the Nazi Holocaust, committed almost forty years ago. Then I see lying on the sidewalk the black, charred body of a young man, a violin near his head. I know at once that this is the first victim of the young Jew's revenge, a horrible reminder of the crimes of the Nazi regime.

My girl friend buries her head on my shoulder and cries: “Will the past ever stay in the past?” I stroke her hair as I answer, “It is this poor young Jew's way of reminding us of our collective guilt.”  相似文献   

10.
Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” Then sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip. (Gen. 32:24–31, NRSV)  相似文献   

11.
I reply here to reviews by three inspiring thinkers, Ethel Person, Susan Sands, and Allan Schore who, though uniquely different from one another in their conceptual frames of reference, share a sensibility as clinicians and creative scholars that has led them to engage and appreciate my work in depth while enriching it with their individual perspectives. Ethel Person's review is meaningful to me for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that we think very much alike about “how we are” with patients despite the diversity in our families of origin. Her thinking, which extends the boundaries established by any one school of thought, transcends doctrine, especially that of “technique.” I am equally grateful to Susan Sands, whose review stimulated a dialogue between us about the similarities and differences in our views of the analyst's personal role in enactments with severe trauma survivors and whether there is reason to distinguish between life-threatening and developmental trauma. My reply to Allan Schore's review satisfies a long-standing wish to engage with him in dialogue about what he refers to in his review as “a remarkable overlap between Bromberg's work in clinical psychoanalysis and my work in developmental neuropsychoanalysis, a deep resonance between his treatment model and my regulation theory” (this issue, p. 755). In my reply I comment from my own vantage point on how our shared commitment to an interpersonal and intersubjective perspective—my interpersonal/relational treatment model and his “Interpersonal Neurobiology” led us to arrive at overlapping views on developmental trauma, attachment, the dyadic regulation of states of consciousness, and dissociation.  相似文献   

12.
Ian G. Barbour 《Zygon》1996,31(1):51-65
Abstract. In replying to the four thoughtful critiques of my first Gifford volume I try to clarify the differences among us. I defend my use of Kuhn's concept of paradigms against Nancey Murphy's use of Lakatos's concept of research programs and then compare both of us with advocates of the “strong program” in the social construction of science. Sallie McFague identifies me with the empiricist, objectivist, “modernist” tradition and contrasts it to her own “postmodernist” acceptance of cultural relativism and the social construction of science, but I argue that I am seeking an intermediate position that redefines objectivity rather than rejecting it. Some themes common to feminist and process theology are also examin ed. In dialogue with Bob Russell I discuss the metaphysical and theological implications of the unity of space and time in relativity, the beginning of time in recent cosmology, and the thesis that God acts by determining events in indeterminate quantum systems. Finally I compare John Cobb's indebtedness to Whitehead with my own and suggest that I am more willing to adapt or modify process thought in the interpretation of scientific theories and religious experience.  相似文献   

13.
In my response to the commentaries, I take up Dr. Cushman's concerns about my use of the term “empathy,” grounding my use in the term's changing definitions over time. I take up Dr. Harris's concerns by elaborating on my views about the complexity of identifications and the fluidity of both subjective agency and power structures.  相似文献   

14.
In this essay, I examine the following pedagogical question: how can we unlock students' mistaken notions that religious “traditions” are monoliths, and instead help them to recognize, puzzle over, and appreciate the complex multiplicity and vibrant set of doctrinal and ritual conversations that characterize religious traditions? More specifically, how can we teach students to recognize these differences with respect to a religion's notions of god? And how can we do so even when students are particularly stuck on, invested in, or trained to see homogeneity? In answer to these questions, I present an exercise that I have used in my World Religions courses. This exercise – which I call the “Council of Newton” (named for the building in which I first taught it) – is particularly effective because it helps students uncover and wrestle with this diversity at two levels: conceptually and historically.  相似文献   

15.
In my reply to the essays by Anne Kull, Eduardo Cruz, and Michael DeLashmutt, I turn first to Cruz's charge that my use of “the sacred” is at odds with a growing religious studies mainstream that understands religion in secular terms. I suggest that this latter approach has its own problems, deriving partly from its neglect of the political, constructed nature of the category of “religion.” Second, in relation to Cruz's suggestion that my lack of attention to explanation compromises my claim to be social scientific, I defend a broader understanding of the human sciences and explore the relationships between understanding, critique, and history, and between sociology and theology. Third, reflecting on DeLashmutt's suggestion that I neglect the way that technical invention provides a glimpse of divine creativity, and the myth making that goes on around technology in vehicles such as science fiction, I argue that such issues have to be approached in a radically historical way. I conclude by identifying three challenges: to explore more deeply how technological objects form part of human being‐in‐the‐world, to show how my approach might offer practical resources for assessing technological and environmental developments, and to expand my analysis to include non‐Western religious traditions.  相似文献   

16.
While Mark Rothko's canvases are renowned for their rich, monumental expanses of colour, he has insisted that his paintings should be appreciated on more than an aesthetic level. “The people who weep before my pictures,” he commented in 1956, “are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them.” While various critics and scholars have recognized the importance of this remark, just what Rothko meant by “religious experience” has been highly contested. In this article I will argue that Rothko's Jewish identity—informed by his experiences in Russia and New York—influenced his understanding of “religious experience” in subtle but powerful ways. I will not attempt to spot a raft of Jewish symbols and references in Rothko's work, an endeavour that has yielded spurious results in previous studies. Instead, I will examine Rothko's sense of “religious experience” as an evolving concept in his thought and painting; a process which finds its culmination in the Rothko Chapel, a space informed but not defined by the artist's Jewishness.  相似文献   

17.
My discussion embroiders around Thomas Rosbrow's view of Murakami as a “trauma analyst.” I highlight the ways in which Murakami's writing reflects his keen sensitivity to existential uncertainty and how he seems to understand trauma, much as I do, as a shattering experience that destroys the certainties that organize psychological life and generates efforts at self restoration. Although I share Rosbrow's view that “After the Quake” depicts a character's awakening from the dissociative manifestations of trauma, I spell out how my perspective on this process differs from his.  相似文献   

18.
One strand of the church's conversation about homosexuality compares present‐day acceptance of homosexuals to the church's acceptance of Gentiles in Acts 15. In a previous article, “Gentiles and Homosexuals,” I presented the history of that strand. In a reply to my article, Olson proposes to reimagine the analogy via the “radical new perspective on Paul” and argues that doing so exposes problems with my original analysis. I defend myself against these criticisms, while also entering into the spirit of Olson's reimagined analogy. Expanding the scope beyond Acts to Paul opens up important facets that might otherwise be obscured. In particular, it includes voices that are sometimes silenced, and presses both sides for an account of sexuality grounded in vocation and God's purposes in creation.  相似文献   

19.
This article critically reflects on some of the themes and assumptions at stake in the “transracialism” controversy, and connects them to important works in critical race theory: namely Rey Chow's notion of “coercive mimeticism” and Sara Ahmed's critique of white liberal multiculturalism. It argues that the analytic account of “race” that Tuvel draws upon in her article—Sally Haslanger's—is politically problematic, both on its own terms and in light of broader reflections on racialized and gendered power relations. In particular, I critique Haslanger's assumption that all racial identities exist on the same conceptual plane: that a single variable definition of “race” can be applied to any particular racialized group—including white and nonwhite racial identities. This erases racialized power relations, especially where, in liberal “multicultural” nations, whiteness constitutes the implied standard against which an appearance of “racial difference” is conjured. Finally, I extend my argument to the issue of treating “race” and gender analogously. Rejecting this move, I propose an alternative way of conceptualizing these as analytically distinct, yet constitutively interdependent, phenomena. In order to situate the debate historically, I consider an example of “racial transgression” from twentieth‐century China.  相似文献   

20.
Working through the lens of Donna Haraway's cyborg theory and directed at the example of Prozac, I address the dramatic rise of new technoscience in medicine and psychiatry. Haraway's cyborg theory insists on a conceptualization and a politics of technoscience that does not rely on universal “Truths” or universal “Goods” and does not attempt to return to the “pure” or the “natural.” Instead, Haraway helps us mix politics, ethics, and aesthetics with science and scientific recommendations, and she helps us understand that (without recourse to universal truth or universal good) questions of legitimacy in science come down to local questions of effect and inclusion. What, in the case of my example, are the effects of Prozac? And for whom? Who is included and empowered to create legitimate psychiatric knowledge? Who is excluded and why? And, what political strategies will increase the democratic health of psychiatric science and practice?  相似文献   

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