In this chapter, we explain the main ideas of the proof of Theorem 4.3.5. This proof has been developed in a series of papers: [LTT18], [HJ17], [LT17], [Sen21], and [LST22].We now explain the history of this theorem. In [LTT18], Lehmann, Tschinkel, and the author proved that the exceptional set for the ainvariant is a proper closed subset assuming the weak BAB conjecture (Corollary 3.5.6).

Not the Conclusion. Romans acquired ancient Greek statues to exhibit in public spaces, and they used classical sculptural styles and types in their own works. They made exact copies by overcasting old bronzes, and dealers probably fooled them into thinking these were antique. We are just as enthusiastic about undersea finds today as were the Romans. Statues described as “brasses” in the eighteenth century are now described as bronzes or more specifically as copper alloys. New technologies have widened the scope of our studies, but analyses of the bronze or of the clay core cannot distinguish Greek from Roman bronzes, but they can sometimes link two or more bronzes to a single foundry or lead us to where a bronze was produced. Noninvasive studies are being developed for the study of ancient bronzes, inside and out. There is still much to investigate.

At the heart of effective inclusive education lies a shared understanding among all stakeholders. When early childhood communities develop collective commitment to inclusive philosophies, they establish the essential groundwork for sustainable change. This shared vision recognises that inclusion extends beyond physical placement to encompass full participation, valued contribution and authentic belonging. The It takes a village approach acknowledges that inclusion cannot be the responsibility of individual educators working in isolation; rather, it requires coordinated effort across the entire early childhood community. When staff, families and community co-design inclusive principles together, they develop ownership and commitment that withstands the inevitable challenges of implementation.

This chapter starts with key evidence, which suggests that all of the biological accounts of hunger in Chapter 2 – irrespective of their other shortcomings – are incomplete. Henry Molaison (HM) had a bilateral resection of his medial temporal lobes and was densely amnesic. He also did not experience hunger – unless food was placed in front of him. Other similar cases are examined, pointing to the importance of declarative learning and memory in hunger. Models of specific hunger are then reviewed. Since Cannon, all these models share a key similarity. They rely on learning and episodic memory processes. A model of general hunger is then examined that utilises interoceptive (e.g., stomach rumble) and temporal cues (e.g., it’s lunchtime). The basis of this model in learning is described, alongside the experimental and neuropsychological evidence for this account, and the importance of developmental processes. Interactions between specific and general hunger are explored, as is the important topic of how hunger is turned off by physiological satiation and satiety processes. Finally, the linkages of this psychological model to the biological accounts of Chapter 2 are revisited.

Consumed by thoughts of a blue flower, Heinrich leaves his cold homeland and travels south until he meets Mathilde, who opens his eyes to the world’s mysteries. Then a tragic event reveals the secret power of poetry …

Heinrich von Ofterdingen, left unfinished at the time of the author’s death, is a masterpiece of philosophical fiction and a classic of German literature. This highly detailed and original interpretation is the most comprehensive and systematic study of the novel ever written. Developing fresh insights into the philosophical ideas of the novel while also attending to its symbolic, literary, and creative qualities, Owen Ware explores how Novalis probes the core problem of modern life – fragmentation, and our sense of alienation from the world. Ultimately, he shows us, this novel is a timeless expression of the Romantics’ idea that only the imagination, guided by love, can bring us back to our spiritual home.

Climate change requires far more cooling, thus requiring more electricity, already inadequate for the growing demand due to industrialization and population growth. Electricity generation is limited by reduced generating capacity of drought-reduced current hydroelectric dams and heat-constrained solar arrays. Heavily polluting fossil fuels, especially coal, dominate in electricity generation as well as transportation, but cannot be adequately offset by the limited long-term potentials of solar or wind sources. The transition away from fossil fuels is constrained by the difficult challenges to finance responsible hydroelectric dams and lingering resistance to nuclear energy despite the emergence of very safe small modular reactors. Electric vehicles have great promise to reduce fossil fuels for transportation, but add to the electricity demand. Electric transmission grids must be extended and strengthened to reduce the threats of greater storms and to supply areas suffering from drought or storm destruction.Reducing energy intensity, the demand side of the energy balance needs to be pursued through greater production and transportation efficiency.

This introduction to The New Believers begins by identifying a broader problem with the contemporary novel: that it often ends with bleak defeat or uncertain irresolution. Instead, I identify a new grouping of contemporary writers – Margaret Atwood, J. M. Coetzee, Junot Díaz, and George Saunders – who turn to spiritual beliefs, powers, and presences to offer new hope and possibilities for the contemporary novel, ones that might empower specific progressive causes. I show how this grouping is distinct from other forms of the contemporary, including writers who are hostile to religion, indifferent to it, or committed to it, and I show how the New Believers avoid the problem of oppressive totality by assessing the value of spiritual ideas by their impact on the immanent and the worldly, specifically how spiritual ideas alleviate and prevent material, bodily, and ecological suffering. This new grouping shows that the contemporary novel takes spirituality much more seriously than our critical categories have allowed.

This chapter sets out the book’s aim: an attempt to map the changing lexicons of Christian expression in the English language from the end of the Middle Ages to the early Victorians. It is thus a contribution to historical theolinguistics, drawing on the one hand on corpus linguistics and, on the other, the history of the many varieties of English Christianity that existed during this period. The methodology to be adopted in the body of the book is then illustrated with reference to two contrasting groups of female writers active in the middle of the seventeenth century, a period of exceptional religious turmoil: Fifth Monarchists and Quakers. The special analytic tools and resources harnessed include the Oxford English Dictionary, Semantic EEBO, Glasgow’s Historical Thesaurus of English, UCREL’s Log-Likelihood Calculator, and Sheffield’s Linguistic DNA. The remainder of the chapter defines notions and addresses issues that will recur later in the book: notions of register and genre, and questions to do with the handling of corpora, and with the structuring of religious ‘communities of practice’.