Friday, May 17, 2013

Terrorism—Moral, Psychological, Political & Legal Perspectives: A Select Bibliography (updated)

Environmental & Ecological Worldviews: A Bibliography

Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Superimposition* of a False Scandal upon a Real One at the IRS

Michael Hiltzik of the Los Angeles Times provides us with much needed context and perspective on the so-called “IRS Scandal.” 

As Juan Cole notes, “The IRS scrutiny of Tea Party groups applying for tax-exempt charitable status derived from a legitimate concern at the more than doubling of such requests after the Citizens United ruling, and a suspicion that the groups were backed by Republican billionaires intending to use them for politics, not charity. It may be that the scrutiny was sometimes invidious, but it is not obvious on the surface as to whether the bureaucrats actually did anything out of the ordinary (left-wing requests for tax exempt status were flat; if they had suddenly doubled presumably they would have attracted attention, too).”

See too Peter S. Goodman at The Huffington Post: “The IRS was Dead Right to Scrutinize Tea Party.”

* Adhyāsa (Sanskrit: अध्यास) in Advaita Vedānta philosophy: “Throwing over or casting upon; misconception or erroneous attribution, the significance being that the mind casts upon facts, which are misunderstood, certain mistaken notions; hence false or erroneous attribution. Simply put, adhyāsa means superimposition or false attribution of properties of one thing on another thing.” [Adapted from Wikipedia entry]

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Motley readings worthy of our attention…

The following articles, and one book (in no particular order), I think well warrant our attention:

Monday, May 06, 2013

Tamerlan Tsarnaev should not be denied a proper Muslim burial (i.e., we should respect the dignity of the dead and the religious obligations of the living).

For one persuasive argument to this effect, please see this post by my Religious Left Law co-blogger, Bob Hockett: “Cambridge’s Polynices.”

Friday, May 03, 2013

The Corporatization of Higher Education: A Basic Reading List

After reading a skeptical query at another law blog about the putative “corporatization of higher education,” I thought to assemble this select bibliography on the topic. Incidentally, it turns out the law professor who posed this question responded in turn to a reply by proclaiming with remarkable confidence that “corporatization has not come to law schools in any meaningful fashion.” Is that true? [Correction: It may be that the person who asked the question is not in fact a law professor although perhaps an individual who has written law articles and now works for a private firm.]  
  • Aronowitz, Stanley. The Knowledge Factory: Dismantling the Corporate University and Creating True Higher Learning. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2001.
  • Aronowitz, Stanley. C. Wright Mills and the Making of Political Intellectuals. New York: Columbia University Press, 2012.
  • Bok, Derek. Universities in the Marketplace: The Commercialization of Higher Education. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003.
  • Chomsky, Noam, et al. The Cold War and the University: Toward an Intellectual History of the Postwar Years. New York: The New Press, 1997.
  • Chomsky, Noam. “American Freedom and the Corporatization of Universities” (partial transcription of lecture), April 6, 2011: http://www.chomsky.info/talks/20110406.htm
  • Donoghue, Frank. The Last Professor: The Corporate University and the Fate of the Humanities. New York: Fordham University Press, 2008.
  • Ginsberg, Benjamin. The Fall of the Faculty: The Rise of the All-Administrative University and Why It Matters. New York: Oxford Univeristy Press, 2011.
  • Jacoby, Russell. The Last Intellectuals: American Culture in the Age of Academe. New York: Basic Books, 1987.
  • Kenney, Martin. Bio-Technology: The University-Industrial Complex. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988.
  • McGettigan, Andrew. The Great University Gamble: Money, Markets and the Future of Higher Education. London: Pluto Press, 2013.
  • Mills, Nicolaus. “The Corporatization of Higher Education,” Dissent (Fall 2012): Available: http://www.dissentmagazine.org/article/the-corporatization-of-higher-education
  • Mirowski, Philip. Science-Mart: Privatizing American Science. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011.
  • Nelson, Cary and Stephen Watt. Academic Keywords: A Devil’s Dictionary for Higher Education. New York: Routledge, 1999.
  • Newfield, Christopher. Unmaking the Public University: The Forty-Year Assault on the Middle Class. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2008.
  • Nussbaum, Martha C. Cultivating Humanity: A Classical Defense of Reform in Liberal Education. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997.
  • Nussbaum, Martha C. Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010.
  • Readings, Bill. The University in Ruins. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996.
  • Ryan, Alan. Liberal Anxieties and Liberal Education. New York: Hill and Wang, 1998.
  • Schrecker, Ellen. The Lost Soul of Higher Education: Corporatization, the Assault on Academic Freedom, and the End of the American University. New York: The New Press, 2010.
  • Scott, Debra Leigh. “How the American University was Killed, in Five Easy Steps,” The Homeless Adjunct Blog (August 12, 2012). 
  • Simpson, Christopher, ed. Universities and Empire: Money and Politics in the Social Sciences during the Cold War. New York: The New Press, 1998.
  • Steck, Henry. “Corporatization of the University: Seeking Conceptual Clarity,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 585 (Jan. 2003): 66-83.
  • Tuchman, Gaye. Wannabe U: Inside the Corporate University. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2009.
  • Washburn, Jennifer. University, Inc.: The Corporate Corruption of American Higher Education. New York: Basic Books, 2005.
Thanks to a colleague at my college, Paul McDowell (Anthropology), for a couple of additional titles.

Wednesday, May 01, 2013

Happy May Day! (that is to say, the real ‘Labor Day’)

“The struggle for the 8-hour day reached a significant moment on May 1, 1886 as the Knights of Labor and numerous other labor organizations called for a national work stoppage on this day to demand that the 8-hour day become the law of the land. Thousands of workplaces shutdown across the country and capital trembled. Linked to the issue of shorter hours was the question of child labor as depicted in this 1908 Lewis Hine photo of a few of the doffers and sweepers in the Mollahan Mills in Newberry, South Carolina. In the U.S. serious legislation governing the hours of work and child labor was a long, long time coming as workers fought and died well into the 1930s before an upsurge in organization pressured the government into making a handful of modest reforms.”—From the Facebook page of the Bread & Roses Centennial (1912-2012) Committee.


Prior May Day posts (including an historical introduction to the holiday in the first of the two links are here and here.
Several years ago ago at Slate, Robert Pinsky discussed two poems by William Blake that serve to fill out the meaning of this holiday, both titled “The Chimney Sweeper,” from Songs of Innocence (1789) and Songs of Experience (1794) respectively.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Neoliberal Capitalism in Bangladesh: The Violence of Free Markets in the Real World

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—At least 3,000 people are believed to have been in the building on Rana Plaza at the time the building collapsed. More than 380 bodies had been recovered by Monday morning. Hundreds are still missing. And with every day that passes, the chances of finding survivors grows dimmer.

The deadly incident in Savar has already been called the worst industrial accident in the country’s history. It serves as a reminder that nothing has changed when it comes to the inhumane conditions under which clothes are made in Bangladesh for European and American textile companies and clothing chains. And the same can be said about the culture of corruption that is rampant in Bangladesh, the abundance of illegally procured construction permits and the lax attitude factory owners take toward safety standards. —Hasnain Kazim, Nils Klawitter and Wieland Wagner, from their piece for Der Spiegel (April 29, 2013), available here.

—The disaster refocused attention on the dangers facing workers in the booming Bangladeshi garment industry, ramping up calls for stricter regulation. Western brands whose labels were found in the wreckage faced new pressure to sign on to a safety agreement.

“Brands can no longer justify any further delay.... The lack of action demonstrated by brands amounts to criminal negligence,” Ineke Zeldenrust of the Clean Clothes Campaign said in a statement Monday.—From the Los Angeles Times (April 30, 2013)

—These tragedies could not have come at a worse time for major retailers that purchase garments from these factories. For months the International Labor Rights Forum and other labor rights groups have encouraged garment retailers to sign a binding agreement that would create a system of rigorous inspections, transparency and oversight. Thus far, they have had limited success, with only the parent company of Tommy Hilfiger and Calvin Klein brands and one German retailer signing on. The agreement, the Bangladesh Fire and Building Safety Agreement, would establish a nine member Oversight Committee, with four members appointed by Bangladesh and international labor groups, four members appointed by business representatives chosen by companies sourcing from Bangladesh, and one member mutually chosen by the other eight. Corporations that sign on to the MOU would help fund the costs of improving fire and safety standards in the factories where they source their supplies. [….]

A key provision in the Agreement is binding arbitration. Specifically, the Agreement requires the Oversight Committee to develop a plan for the implementation and administration of the Bangladesh fire and safety program that includes “[a] process for binding and legally enforceable arbitration of disputes between parties to this MOU with respect to this MOU and the program….”

In other words, labor unions and participating corporations would sign a binding agreement to improve the working conditions of Bangladeshi garment workers, and any corporation that failed to comply with its funding or other obligations under the MOU could be the subject to international arbitration enforceable under the New York Convention in that corporation’s home country. [….]Roger Alford at Opinio Juris (April 26, 2013)

“The Terror of Capitalism,” by Vijay Prashad, CounterPunch (April 26-28, 2013):

“On Wednesday, April 24, a day after Bangladeshi authorities asked the owners to evacuate their garment factory that employed almost three thousand workers, the building collapsed. The building, Rana Plaza, located in the Dhaka suburb of Savar, produced garments for the commodity chain that stretches from the cotton fields of South Asia through Bangladesh’s machines and workers to the retail houses in the Atlantic world. Famous name brands were stitched here, as are clothes that hang on the satanic shelves of Wal-Mart. Rescue workers were able to save two thousand people as of this writing, with confirmation that over three hundred are dead. The numbers for the latter are fated to rise. It is well worth mentioning that the death toll in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City of 1911 was one hundred and forty six. The death toll here is already twice that. This ‘accident’ comes five months (November 24, 2012) after the Tazreen garment factory fire that killed at least one hundred and twelve workers.

The list of ‘accidents’ is long and painful. In April 2005, a garment factory in Savar collapsed, killing seventy-five workers. In February 2006, another factory collapsed in Dhaka, killing eighteen. In June 2010, a building collapsed in Dhaka, killing twenty-five. These are the ‘factories’ of twenty-first century globalization – poorly built shelters for a production process geared toward long working days, third rate machines, and workers whose own lives are submitted to the imperatives of just-in-time production. Writing about the factory regime in England during the nineteenth century, Karl Marx noted, ‘But in its blind unrestrainable passion, its wear-wolf hunger for surplus labour, capital oversteps not only the moral, but even the merely physical maximum bounds of the working-day. It usurps the time for growth, development and healthy maintenance of the body. It steals the time required for the consumption of fresh air and sunlight…. All that concerns it is simply and solely the maximum of labour-power that can be rendered fluent in a working-day. It attains this end by shortening the extent of the labourer’s life, as a greedy farmer snatches increased produce from the soil by reducing it of its fertility’ (Capital, Chapter 10).

These Bangladesh factories are a part of the landscape of globalization that is mimicked in the factories along the US-Mexico border, in Haiti, in Sri Lanka, and in other places that opened their doors to the garment industry’s savvy use of the new manufacturing and trade order of the 1990s. Subdued countries that had neither the patriotic will to fight for their citizens nor any concern for the long-term debilitation of their social order rushed to welcome garment production. The big garment producers no longer wanted to invest in factories – they turned to sub-contractors, offering them very narrow margins for profit and thereby forcing them to run their factories like prison-houses of labour. The sub-contracting regime allowed these firms to deny any culpability for what was done by the actual owners of these small factories, allowing them to enjoy the benefits of the cheap products without having their consciences stained with the sweat and blood of the workers. It also allowed the consumers in the Atlantic world to buy vast amount of commodities, often with debt-financed consumption, without concern for the methods of production. An occasionally outburst of liberal sentiment turned against this or that company, but there was no overall appreciation of the way the Wal-Mart type of commodity chain made normal the sorts of business practices that occasioned this or that campaign. [….]

In the Atlantic world, meanwhile, self-absorption over the wars on terror and on the downturn in the economy prevent any genuine introspection over the mode of life that relies upon debt-fueled consumerism at the expense of workers in Dhaka. Those who died in the Rana building are victims not only of the malfeasance of the sub-contractors, but also of twenty-first century globalisation.

Vijay Prashad’s latest book is The Poorer Nations: A Possible History of the Global South (London: Verso, 2012).

Addendum: See too this timely Forum discussion at Boston Review: Can Global Brands Create Just Supply Chains? The lead article addressing corporate responsibility with regard to industrial workers involved in the geography of global manufacturing is by Richard M. Locke.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Locating the Dignity of the Dead

Hindu Funeral
“Even those who think that death is a continuation, and not an ending, can benefit from contemplating the implications of annihilation. That annihilation would be bad for them explains why it is important to live forever: it is the only way to avoid the evil of annihilation. If, on the other hand, annihilation would not be bad for them, the question arises as to why they value the prospect of immortality.”—Steven Luper [1]

“The human species is only partly natural. It is the only species about which that can be said.”—George Kateb [2]

“Philosophers tend to think that precision is always important, but they have known since Aristotle that that may not always be wise. Sometimes the quest for precision blinds us to certain insights that we can as yet only formulate haltingly; sometimes it blinds us to the importance of pursuing certain questions (and linking them to other questions) even when there is not yet an answer in sight.”—Jeremy Waldron [3]

At Concurring Opinions a couple of weeks ago, Professor Taunya Banks penned a delightfully provocative post titled “Fortune’s Bones: Is There Dignity after Death?” Banks introduces three different historical cases: the 1995 Body Worlds exhibit by Gunther von Hagens; the skeleton of an enslaved man (whose name was Fortune) who died in 1798 and was being studied by the anthropology faculty and students at Quinnipiac University; and perhaps the best known of the three, the story of Henrietta Lacks as recently discussed by Rebecca Skloots in her book The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (2010), that together raise for her the question of whether or not the concept of dignity can be applied to deceased individuals, in other words, “Is there dignity after death?” The following paragraphs conclude her discussion, followed by my attempt to address her question:*

[….] “Scientists and anthropologists might argue that the cases of Fortune and Mrs. Lacks are distinguishable from Gunther von Hagens’ Body Worlds exhibit because the educational value is clearer in the former than the latter. They might also argue, as one Johns Hopkins researcher told me, that the HeLa cell is not part of Mrs. Lacks but has morphed into something quite different.[4] Thus it does not matter that her family consider the cell to be a living part of their deceased family member. Still others like academic Stephen Bates ask whether human corpses are different from skeletons or human cells. (Prenates, Postmorts and Bell-Curve Dignity, Hastings Center Reps. 2008) The more human-looking the remains, Bates writes, the more concerns about dignity seem to arise.

According to my colleague Leslie Henry, there are strong arguments for dignity after death as well as some laws that arguably recognize some type of dignitary interest. Physicians usually are required to secure consent from the deceased’s next of kin before using a cadaver to teach medical students. There are statutes that penalize the desecration of grave sites (beyond trespassing). There also is the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) which required federal agencies to return ‘cultural items’ including human remains, to the descendants of Indian tribes and Native Hawaiian organizations. Granted none of these laws directly touch on the cases of Fortune and Mrs. Lacks.

In the end I offer no suggestions. But I am concerned because too often the people denied dignity in death, were also denied dignity in life.”

*           *           *           *           *           *           *

I’ve been pondering Professor Banks’ thoughtful and moving post for some time now and have arrived at the point at which temerity prompts me to share my tentative thoughts on (explicit and implicit) questions raised by her piece. I think it is true that there is something to the notion of a “dignitary interest” with regard to the dead (as individual persons). This is not my preferred term, however, as it suggests the decedent herself has post-mortem “interests,” which is eminently arguable and, I believe, not true.[5] But if we understand this dignitary interest as having something to do with the attitude and respect of the living toward the decedent as a previous embodiment or incarnation of transcendent value, a value which transcends sentience, then it’s possible to articulate a stipulative or précising definition which allows for the possibility (in some sense) of “disrespecting the dead” but not harming them. It is not that the dead person’s bones or cremated ashes, or some scientific sample of cells, as such, that incarnates the transcendent value of dignity; so we cannot speak, literally at least, of “continuing assaults on the dignity of the deceased.” Rather, with death, it is our memory of the fact that a person, with a unique narrative history, a person of intrinsic dignity and incomparable value or worth has passed, and death, as the converse of life, is an occasion for our individual and collective reflection on—as remembering, commemorating, and honoring—the precious nature of personhood, the powerful concept of dignity, and the nature of human normative agency. Our treatment of a dead person’s remains will reveal our ability to respect and to honor, and is therefore symbolic of, a human being who, for a brief period of time, was locus of the dignity of humanity in his or her own person, an individual who was, at one time, the incarnation of transcendent value.

In addition to or apart from recognizing the expressed preferences of the decedent about what to do with her remains, or attempts at inferring the wishes (e.g., by way of immediate family, closest friends, or end-of-life caregivers) of the decedent, and sans any traditional burial or after-death treatment and (ritualistic) practices associated with a decedent’s worldview, I think we might somehow express, reveal or evoke something of the dignitary attitude of respect in the manner in which we respond to the death of an individual and treat their remains. Such expression can come not only from those who knew or were close to the decedent, but also from those whose task is to handle the remains. We might, for example, mandate a period of memory and commemoration for the decedent that recognizes an individual of incomparable worth, of inherent dignity has died (regardless of whether such dignity was respected in the person’s lifetime or what kind of life that person lived; hence, again, this is not about any post-mortem interest as such), and deserving of acknowledgment and remembrance if only for this reason. I believe the manner in which we handle the remains can and should be the occasion for honoring or celebrating the dignity of personhood, for ritual remembrance of the respect owed humanity in the individual person. The remains can become the occasion or means whereby we honor the transcendent value of dignity that we failed (or may have failed) to recognize and respect during the person’s lifetime. This demonstration of respect I imagine to be very close—similar or analogous—to the Confucian understanding of the proper performance of li.[6] As Banks notes in her second paragraph above, there are some legal rules for particular situations or occasions that can be viewed as (directly or indirectly) permitting or encouraging demonstration of this respect.

The question then becomes whether or not we can find some means whereby we generalize such an attentive and focused demonstration of dignitary respect for all decedents, perhaps through engagement in a (secular) ritual celebration or honoring of the dead person in a way that affirms and reinforces our belief in human dignity and the incomparable value of normative human agency. After Stephen Darwall, this takes the form of recognition respect, distinguished from appraisal respect insofar as the former lacks the latter’s conceptual connection to merit and esteem: “Recognition respect concerns, not how something is to be evaluated or appraised, but how our relations to it are to be regulated or governed.” Following the performance of such a secular ritual (at least in the case of those whose wishes are not known or whose worldview does not prescribe some kind of funeral service), which might be as simple as a published or public proclamation (that speaks to the dignity and inviolability of the human person), perhaps in conjunction with or followed by a period of time in which the remains are not in any way disposed or used for scientific research, the decedent’s remains—be they bones and teeth, cremated ashes, or simply cells—could then be buried, scattered, or enlisted for scientific research. At this point in time, that part of ourselves which belongs indissolubly to the natural world (for a ‘transcendental’ or non-reductionist naturalist like Grant Gillett, this ‘part’ would be a human being absent the narrative ‘space’ of reason and will) and by which we make sense of the notion of embodiment, can now return to the natural world (including the natural world as understood in the sciences), no longer a locus of transcendent value in the form of human dignity. This (so to speak) return to the natural world upon the fulfillment of such conditions represents one point along the continuum of dignitary respect for the dead, for the living, and for those who follow us as loci of transcendent dignity. To leave our “human world” and return to the greater natural world is something the psalmist and secularist, the Muslim and the man-in-the-street, the Daoist and the Buddhist, can alike appreciate in a language that connotes spiritual, metaphysical and aesthetic sensitivity and sensibilities in speaking to the grandeur, the sublimity, the harmony, proportion, and beauty of nature. (Bear in mind that things are a bit different in the case of Mahāyāna Buddhism because, after Nāgārjuna, nirvāna and samsāra are said to be ‘not different’ when viewed from the ultimate nature of the Dharmakāya, for an individual can attain nirvāna in this lifetime by following the Buddhist path. Their duality is only (a) conventional (truth), for if they were ultimately different (or expressed an absolute truth) this would be impossible. By implication, this speaks to the conventional duality of life and death as well, hence a ‘return’ to nature is only true conventionally speaking, and thus for any of us who have not had the requisite spiritual realization that establishes the non-difference between nirvāna and samsāra…or life and death, it will appear as absolutely true. Something comparable to this might also be the case in Daoism.) But as a condition of this return to nature, a ritual or solemn acknowledgement of transcendental dignity and intrinsic inviolability of the human person in reference to the decedent, including a proscribed period in which the decedent’s remains are not to be used for any educational or scientific purposes, could go some way toward communicating the all-important value of human dignity and our respect for the nature of personhood as indicative of the manner in which our species transcends the natural world.

Now, for various reasons, some of them of Kantian provenance or inspiration, showing respect for such dignity has been taken to mean acknowledging the person’s (normative) human agency (as a capacity), in the sense that the ways of being (a) human (animal) distinguishes us from our nonhuman animal relatives. This means honoring both our “being” and “willing.” David Luban, who prefers a naturalistic and non-metaphysical account of dignity—albeit one with “ontological heft”—believes Kant was speaking more about “willing” than “being,” but I think he’s mistaken on this point. In any case, Luban’s discussion of dignity is largely intended for legal ethicists (although it has wider value outside that application, as he himself suggests and demonstrates), and in this context he speaks of the lawyer listening to the client’s “story,” every person having a “story” to tell insofar as they are “authors” in some measure or another of their lives (and, as characters, part of the narrative accounts of at least some of those with whom they have interacted over the course of their lives). These stories revolve around “meaning” of various kinds, however inarticulate or disturbing we might, as outsiders, find them to be (think of those accused of the most heinous crimes), for to “have a story,” Luban writes, “means being the subject of experience, and it means existing in a web of commitments, however detestable or pathetic those commitments may be.” Luban’s naturalistic rendering of dignity appears unable to account for how we might accord dignitarian respect toward the decedent, after all, the author of the story, the subject of the experience, is no longer with us. And yet he or she may become a character or even protagonist in the stories of those who survive and follow the decedent, for we are, as has been said “inveterate story tellers” (folk psychological theory, say, like that proffered by Daniel Hutto, is here quite useful in accounting for this fact). These stories could be seen as functioning to remind us what it means to be human, involving questions of individual and collective identity, memory, and meaning, for example.[7] In short, we treat the dead with respect (more about this in a moment), as a reminder to the living what it means to live a human life, for death is a vivid and insistent reminder of the value and beauty of life (human and non-human), a value and beauty that becomes part and parcel of the best stories we tell. Luban’s approach might be filled out or simply supplemented with recent work in narrative ethics and narrative metaphysics, especially if we should want to employ it for treating the question of “dignity after death.”

For now at least (i.e., until we’ve come up with a richer—more broadly ethical and metaphysical—narrative account that might serve our purposes), I suggest we go back to Kant, for the respect we show the dead is more than their potential to become part of the stories we tell, or our willingness to listen to their stories, even if that is one way we show our respect for the dignity of others during their lifetimes. In fact, more than a few people die alone, without loved ones or others who will recall their lives as part of any narrative (Henrietta Lacks was fortunate to have her story eloquently written by Rebecca Skloot), however modest. It is about the respect we bestow upon the dead person because the dead remind us of the incalculable, intrinsic worth, and thus non-instrumental value of human dignity in the living person, of why, as Kant said, we should always treat people as “ends” (‘self-sufficient’ ends at that, and thus not in the sense of some thing or state of affairs to be brought about by us) and never merely just as “means” (the ‘Formula of Humanity as End-in-Itself’). Death, as we say, serves somehow to give meaning to life (of course the concepts of life and death are mutually—conceptually if not logically—dependent on each other). Kant’s concept of human dignity (as Martha Nussbaum and Michael Rosen each remind us, there are other forms of dignity) is “metaphysical” in a secular sense (there are of course religious conceptions of dignity, and Kant’s treatment comes awfully close to revealing religious or religious-like sentiment when he speaks of the ‘inviolable holiness’ of humanity and if his notion of Achtung is seen as not only denoting ‘respect’ but ‘reverence’ as well), and I think it is only a metaphysical conception of the person that licenses us to speak in any significant or meaningful way about treating the dead person with respect and dignity (insofar as the ‘metaphysical’ for Kant is beyond or other than the ‘phenomenal,’ natural, or material world). Thus a person’s natural remains, as it were, might at some point be used for scientific purposes, given autonomous consent or provided the occasion for ritual honoring and remembrance of the sort briefly described above has occurred. If such a ritual is reduced to a debased form of bureaucratic protocol, a ritualistic (in the pejorative sense of a mindless habit or a mechanical performance) “going through the motions,”—and there’s no way we can guarantee this can be avoided—we have failed to celebrate and honor the dignity of the deceased as emblematic of the dignity of the human person, in effect denying there is any dignitary “interest” with regard to the dead.   

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Bernard Williams correctly pointed out that “The ground of the respect owed to each man thus emerges in the Kantian theory as a kind of secular analogue of the Christian [actually, in the first instance, Judaic insofar as it appears in Genesis of the Hebrew Bible] conception of the respect owed to all men as equally children of God. Though secular, it is equally metaphysical….”[8] From the vantage point of Liberal political philosophy, democratic pluralism, and Rawlsian “overlapping consensus,” the advantage of a “thin” and “secular” metaphysical conception should be of some importance, as it might be endorsed by both the religious and non-religious (save those who are not simply agnostic but rather dogmatic naturalists or materialists, metaphysically speaking). We need only acknowledge or appreciate this non-naturalist metaphysics in a “thin” or minimalist sense without subscribing to the specifics of Kant’s own metaphysical views. Kant did of course link dignity to our capacity for self-legislation, morally speaking (we are sources of ‘law’), but his emphasis on the inviolability and equality of dignity possessed by each of us in virtue of our metaphysical status as human beings is what is foremost and paramount, even if it is the possession of this or that attribute or property that prompted Kant to explain how we are at once both part of (our ‘empirical’ nature) and outside of the created or natural world. It is this Kantian metaphysical conception, greater in scope if not deeper in value than the (or ‘a’) moral principle of autonomy that prevents dignity from being “redundant” (vis-à-vis autonomy) as argued by the bioethicist Ruth Macklin. It is this Kantian concept that is something other than what Stephen Pinker describes as “squishy, subjective notion,” even if its origins as an idea lie in a somewhat dim or inchoate awareness that has functioned as an intuitively axiomatic value in the form of a presupposition or assumption prone to the “frequently dismissive or hostile attitude” among those few philosophers who have taken notice of the concept (Michael Rosen). Ronald Dworkin was right to lament the fact that the “concept of dignity has become debased by flabby overuse in political rhetoric: every politician pays lip service to the idea, and almost every covenant of human rights gives it pride of place.” But Dworkin himself acknowledges its indispensability:

“[T]he abstract standard itself—the basic understanding that dignity require equal concern for the fate of all and full respect for individual responsibility—it not relative. It is genuinely universal. I do not mean that that abstract standard has been or is universally endorsed. On the contrary, it plainly has not and is not. But if we believe in human rights at all—or in any other rights, for that matter—we must take a stand on the true basis of such rights. [….] [U]nless you are tempted by a global skepticism about human and political rights, you must find a basis for such rights in some formulation of that kind, and you must embrace that formulation not because you find it embedded in some culture or shared by all or most nations but because you believe it to be true. You must make applications of your basic premise sensitive to a variety of circumstances that vary across regions and nations. But your judgments must be grounded finally in something that is not relative: your judgment about the conditions of human dignity and the threats that coercive power offers to that dignity.”[9]

Such dignity as we possess as an intrinsic metaphysical value is not dependent upon the exercise of what Kant referred to as our morally self-legislative capacity or the realization of this or that attribute or property because, as Michael Rosen notes, personhood for Kant, that is, the “humanity in my person,” is logically (because metaphysically) “prior to the power of choice and overrides it,”[10] hence its “unconditionality” and the principal reason Rosen can claim Kant is “no humanist,” for human beings are embodiments of transcendent value. Thus even if one important and necessary or obligatory way we demonstrate respect for persons is by fulfilling the conditions of normative human agency and providing freedom for expression of the powers and capabilities associated with human nature or human autonomy, dignity as a metaphysical property is not dependent on these or any other actions for it is, metaphysically speaking, intrinsic to our nature as human beings, for we are by definition embodiments of transcendent value, of “unconditional” worth (a somewhat mysterious and dualistic mix, so to speak, of the Kantian ‘phenomenal’ and the ‘noumenal’). This is why we say someone cannot rid themselves, surrender, or disavow their dignity, thus it always possible for us to demonstrate self-awareness and self-respect with regard to such dignity: “Individuals are capable of acting in ways that show their intrinsic dignity even in the most humiliating or degrading circumstances” (Rosen), even or especially if someone deliberately demonstrates a lack of respect or self-respect with regard to its possession, or if others try to undermine our capacity for expression of that dignity. Hence, as Rosen reminds us, “We do not have to bring the dignity of humanity into being or stop it from being destroyed, but we do have to find ways for acting that express esteem for it.”

No doubt the most urgent and important expressions of that esteem should occur in the instance of human lives here and now, still, there does seem something to be said for a secondary, derivative, or parasitic expression of such esteem even at and after death, if only to remind us of what is lost with the death of a human person. Believing this does not mean or imply that life itself is of absolute value, after all, if Kant’s conception of dignity is a non-naturalist, metaphysical one, there may be some things of value beyond life as such, in Kant’s words: “If a man can preserve his life in no other way than by dishonoring his humanity, he ought rather to sacrifice it” (this should suffice my way of showing that Christians don’t possess a monopoly on appreciation of ‘sacrifice’ on behalf of transcendental value). In fact, it was Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805), whom Rosen calls upon to supplement Kant’s account of dignity, who has something intriguingly relevant to say in this regard, for he argued, in Rosen’s words, that “respect for humanity requires us to mark the value of human being even (or indeed especially) when the gross material facts of our animal existence are inescapable—in contexts of death and suffering.” Our reflections, arising out of Professor Banks’ post, have revolved around the context of death, while suffering is relevant to the recognition of human rights, the meeting of a threshold of “central capabilities” (Martha Nussbaum), questions of justice generally, and morality yet wider still.

* What follows is an elaboration of my original comment to Professor Banks’ intriguing post.

Notes:

[1] Steven Luper, The Philosophy of Death (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2009): 3.

[2] Although Kateb helpfully explains what he means by humanity’s partial “break with nature,” in his book, Human Dignity (Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011), for a fuller philosophical elaboration of this idea, please read all three volumes of a trilogy by Raymond Tallis: The Hand: A Philosophical Inquiry into Human Being (Edinburgh University Press, 2003), I Am: A Philosophical Inquiry into First-Person Being (Edinburgh University Press, 2004), and The Knowing Animal: A Philosophical Inquiry into Knowledge and Truth (Edinburgh University Press, 2005).

[3] Jeremy Waldron, “Is Dignity the Foundation of Human Rights?” (January 3, 2013) New York University School of Law, Public Law Research Paper No. 12-73. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=2196074  

[4] “In 1951 researchers at Johns Hopkins University took the cells of Henrietta Lacks, a poor black Baltimore mother of five who was dying of cervical cancer, without her consent and developed the ‘immortal’ HeLa cell line, a major human cell line used globally in scientific research.”

[5] Cf. John Donnelly’s quotation from Kierkegaard: “‘But when one relates himself to one who is dead, in this relationship there is only one, for one dead is nothing actual.’” Donnelly explains: “The relationship in question is entirely unilateral as the deceased qua object of the living person’s propositional attitude forces the living to come to grips with their own self-understanding. Kierkegaard writes: ‘One who is dead is not an actual object; he is only the occasion which continually reveals what resides in the one living who relates himself to him or which helps to make clear how it is with one living who does not relate himself to him.’” See Donnelly’s essay, “The Misfortunate Dead: A Problem for Materialism,” in his edited volume, Language, Metaphysics, and Death (New York: Fordham University Press, 2nd ed., 1994): 253-169. At the conclusion of his essay, Donnelly discusses what Kierkegaard meant by the idea that “part of the work of love be viewed as the task of remembering the dead.”

[6] I have an introduction to li and other Confucian concepts here: The Confucian Worldview: A Rational Reconstruction.

[7] Grant Gillett has outlined an intriguing conception of (a secular or ‘transcendental naturalist’) “narrative metaphysics and identity” in Subjectivity and Being Somebody: Human Identity and Neuroethics (Exeter, UK: Imprint Academic, 2008).

[8] James Griffin in his book, On Human Rights (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), informs us that “the egalitarian and individualist implications of the idea that we are made in God’s image lay dormant in Christianity until the late Middle Ages.” I learned of the Williams’ comment about the Kantian claim of equal respect being a metaphysical and thus not empirical proposition from Allen Wood. It is found in Williams’ essay, “The Idea of Equality,” in Joel Feinberg, ed., Moral Concepts (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1969).

[9] Ronald Dworkin, Justice for Hedgehogs (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011): 338.

[10] Michael Rosen, Dignity: Its History and Meaning (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2012): 123.

References & Further Reading:
  • Darwall, Stephen. The Second-Person Standpoint: Morality, Respect, and Accountability. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006.
  • Donnelly, John, ed. Language, Metaphysics, and Death. New York: Fordham University Press, 2nd ed., 1994.
  • Dworkin, Ronald. Justice for Hedgehogs. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011.
  • Gillett, Grant. Subjectivity and Being Somebody: Human Identity and Neuroethics. Exeter, UK: Imprint Academic, 2008.
  • Glahn, Julia A. “The Dignity of the Dead?,” available at Inter-Disciplinary.net: http://www.inter-disciplinary.net/probing-the-boundaries/making-sense-of/dying-and-death/project-archives/6th/session-2-ethics-persons-and-dignity/.
  • Hinerman, Nate and Julia Apollonia Glahn, eds. The Presence of the Dead in Our Lives. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2012.
  • Kateb, George. Human Dignity. Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2011.
  • Luban, David. Legal Ethics and Human Dignity. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
  • Luper, Steven. The Philosophy of Death. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009.
  • Rosen, Michael. Dignity: Its History and Meaning. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2012.
  • Waldron, Jeremy. “Is Dignity the Foundation of Human Rights?” (January 3, 2013) New York University School of Law, Public Law Research Paper No. 12-73. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=2196074
  • Wood, Allen W. Kant’s Ethical Thought. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
  • Wood, Allen W. Kantian Ethics. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008.

Monday, April 15, 2013

The human genome: dignity or commodification?

Today, the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in Association for Molecular Pathology v. Myriad Genetics, in which the principal question is whether human genes -- here, genes indicating a predisposition to ovarian and breast cancers -- can be patented. Like several other cases this term, this one seems to require the Court to venture into uncharted waters, as Justice Kennedy said last month in the same sex marriage cases.

But in reality, the issues raised here have been considered by other constitutional courts around the world.  And as is true with the waters of same-sex marriage, voting rights, and affirmative action, the legal status of the elements of human development has not only been charted in other countries; it has been defined and analyzed in varied contexts, and often by reference to the concept of human dignity.  Two cases illustrate how the constitutional value of human dignity has helped to frame the legal questions in similar cases.

In 2002, the Canadian Supreme Court decided that the genes of higher life forms were not patentable subject matter because they weren't encompassed within the statutory definition of "manufacture" or "composition of matter" -- the very question at issue in the Myriad case. Following the guidance of a scientific advisory body (the Canadian Biotechnology Advisory Committee), the Canadian Court said that even if patents are permitted for some higher life forms, "human bodies at all stages of development should be excluded" because of the "universal principle of respect for human dignity, one element of which is that humans are not commodities." The Court explained that "'what is disturbing about objectifying a person or organism is not so much the exchange of money as it is the notion that a subject, a moral agent with autonomy and dignity, is being treated as if it can be used as an instrument for the needs or desires of others without giving rise to ethical objections.'" (citation omitted).  The use of even a part of a human being for someone else's purposes violates the first principle of human dignity -- that humans can not be used as means to someone else's ends.

Brazil's Federal Supreme Tribunal has considered the bounds of medical research in a different context . In 2008, the Tribunal upheld the nation's biosecurity law, which permitted research on embryonic stem cells, against a challenge that such research violated the constitutionally protected right to life. The court said that such research was permitted because it violated neither the right to life nor the principle of human dignity.  In fact, such research, the court said, actually furthers human dignity insofar as it can lead to cures for diseases and conditions that diminish or challenge people's ability to live with others in dignity.  "There is no offense to the right to life and human dignity," the court said, "because research with embryonic stem cells (whether created biologically or for other purposes) signifies a social celebration ("celebração solidária") of life and breath for those who find themselves barely able to exercise in a concrete way, their inalienable right to happiness and to live with dignity."

Indeed, the court said, the biosecurity law dealt with "a set of norms that assumes the intrinsic dignity of all forms of human life, or of life that has that potentiality."  Here, the court was thinking not only in technical terms about the conduct of the research itself, but in very practical terms about the value that advances in medical knowledge have for those who depend on it for their dignity, their enjoyment of life, and indeed their very survival.

It would be refreshing to see the United States Supreme Court follow suit, and recognize the implications of its decision for those whose survival and dignity depend on advances in medical research and access to the most effective diagnoses. 

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Religious Worldviews: Characteristics

I think the presence of most if not all of the following “characteristics” helps us clarify what we often (and perhaps should) mean by the term “religion” or religious worldview (these might even serve as criteria for identifying ‘religion’ for legal purposes). It is capable of encompassing both “Western” and “Eastern” religious traditions, theistic and nontheistic worldviews, as well as many new (although not necessarily ‘New Age’) religions. The assumption here is that there is no readily or agreeably identifiable “essence” to religion, even if we often focus on certain dimensions or characteristics, say, a core set of beliefs (as a central set of truth-claims), the “transcendence” of religion, certain sorts of religious experience: of the “numinous” or “mystical” or “revelatory” and so forth. Our next task would be to identify what it means to cleave to a non-religious worldview.*

1. Belief in supernatural beings (spirits, gods, etc.), God, or a supreme divine principle or force (in the latter case, comprehensive or ‘holistic’ in structure).

2. A distinction between sacred and non-sacred (or ‘profane’) objects, space, and/or time.

3. Ritual acts centered upon or focused around sacred events, places, times, or objects. This includes such activities as worship, prayer, meditation, pilgrimage, sacrifice (vegetable, animal, or human; literal or figurative), sacramental rites, lifecycle rituals, and healing activities.

4. A moral code (ethics) or “way of life” believed to be sanctioned by the gods or God, or (in an informal sense: logically) derived from adherence to the divine principle or force. (There is no assumption here that morality need be religious, indeed, morality is conceptually distinct from and independent of religion.)

5. Prayer, worship, meditation, and other forms of “communication” or attunement with the gods, God, or the divine principle or force.

6. A worldview that situates, through (usually mythic) narrative, the individual and his/her community and tradition within the cosmos, world, and/or history. It is a significant, if not primary source of one’s identity, both in its individual form and group aspect. The worldview articulates the meaning—makes sense of—the group’s cultural traditions: its myths, history, rituals, and symbols. This often involves treating questions of the meaning of life and death (and what, if anything, follows death for a human being), of suffering and evil, of what philosophers term questions of personal identity, of humanity’s relation to the cosmos and natural world, its relation to nonhuman animals and perhaps a “spirit” world or “other worlds.” The worldview articulates the fundamental values of a religious community so as to affirm its most important values and/or its “ultimate value.”

7. Characteristically religious emotions or attitudes associated with that thought to be of divine provenance or endowed with “spiritual” power: a peculiar form of awe and fear, “dread” or angst, existential anxiety, sense of mystery, adoration, reverence, love, devotion, hope, a sense of guilt or shame, serenity, compassion, bliss, etc.

8. A more or less total organization or structuring of one’s life or individual lifeworld based on an understanding (hence interpretation) of the religious worldview (the ‘lifeworld’ may include beliefs, values, and practices not directly linked to or associated with a religious worldview). This understanding does not necessarily coincide with the normative pictures painted by those with religious authority or the “official” worldview of the religion, indeed, it may be rather idiosyncratic or even cognitively crude or fairly sophisticated, psychologically and philosophically speaking. Prima facie evidence reveals the religious adherent believes in or is attempting to live in accordance with the worldview.

9. A social group wherein personal and collective—cultural—identity is forged by the aforementioned factors.

10. Artistic or creative expressions related to any of the above characteristics.

We might keep in mind that the sort of analytical clarity sought in philosophical circles or the desiderata of semantic legal precision may not be applicable if by that is meant a definition (or something very close to a definition) of religion. Why? The late B.K. Matilal provides one reason from the philosopher A.N. Whitehead:

“Insistence on clarity at all costs is based on sheer superstition as to the mode in which human intelligence functions. Insistence on hardheaded clarity issues from sentimental feeling, as it were, a mist cloaking the perplexities of fact.”

* This list of characteristics is inspired by and in part follows that first provided by William P. Alston in the volume he edited, Religious Belief and Philosophical Thought: Readings in the Philosophy of Religion (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1963): p. 5.

Addendum: In response to a comment to this post at Religious Left Law, I thought the following might be of interest: There has long been a recognition among anthropologists, sociologists, and historians (and even a few political scientists) that nationalism is often intertwined with religion and that nationalist and political ideologies frequently possess religious or religious-like characteristics: the radical break with tradition sought in the French Revolution resulted in a new political culture filled with rhetoric, symbols, images, and festivals with mythological and religious precedent or resemblance. The cases are varied and widespread: Zionism in Palestine, Maoist Marxist-Leninism in China (which functioned like a state religion), and what Robert Bellah famously (or infamously in some quarters) defined as “civil religion” in this country, to cite several of the more conspicuous examples. In the words of my teacher and mentor in the study of religions, Ninian Smart, “It is a not uncommon observation that modern nationalism functions like a religion.” So too the late Marxist historian Eric Hobsbawm notes in his work on “nations and nationalism,” the “links between religion and national consciousness can be very close, as the examples of Poland and Ireland demonstrate,” and as is often noted today with regard to Islam in the Arab world. Yet we should also point out, with Hobsbawm, “that the prevalence of transnational religions, at all events in the regions of the world in which modern nationalism developed, imposed limits on religio-ethnic identification.” Finally, again with Hobsbawm, and perhaps indicative of the complexities of the historical entanglement of religion and nationalism, sometimes religious conversion has led to the creation of two distinct nationalities: “for it is certainly Roman Catholicism (and its by-product, the Latin script) and Orthodoxy (with its by-product, the Cryllic script) which has most obviously divided Croats from Serbs, with whom they share a single language of culture.”