The scope of this chapter is to provide an overview of the relationship of substance use disorders (SUD) and suicidal behaviour. The epidemiology of substance use disorders and suicidal behaviour is extensively and critically reviewed in general and clinical populations. The mediating mechanisms for this association are examined.

The findings strongly indicate that SUD is a robust risk factor for suicidal behaviour: It is remarkable that the contribution of SUD to suicidal behaviour is universal except for few variations in the association of SUD with suicidal behaviour between high-income and low-income and middle-income countries.

Some fictions have explicit narrators, like Marcel in À la recherche du temps perdu, Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories, or the unnamed first-person teller in Don Quixote. Explicit narrators are less common in fiction films, but there are some – the late Joe Gillis in Wilder’s 1950 film Sunset Boulevard, and Addison DeWitt in Mankiewicz’s 1952 film All About Eve. This chapter addresses the debate on whether there are covert fictional narrators in most or all fictions, which is assumed, for instance, in David Lewis’s account of truth in fiction. The chapter argues that many fictions, in literature, theater, and film, do have covert narrators, although they may well “fade into the background and have little or no significance for criticism or appreciation,” as Kendall Walton put it. Nevertheless, like Walton (and George Wilson), I reject their ubiquity. To that effect, the chapter relies on the constitutive-rules speech-act account of fictionality that was defended in Chapters 2 and 3 to elaborate on two distinctions suggested by Wilson, and to defend on that basis effaced fictional narrators, by developing his ‘silly question’ reply to skeptics’ arguments against covert narrators.

In the conclusion, we weave together the themes of the volume. We trace three historically overlapping configurations corruption and colonialism, corruption and modernity, and neoliberalism and anti-corruptionism and suggest that we may be entering into a one (a fourth one) characterized by illiberalism. Additionally, we propose “deep analogies” that cross-cut the configurations, including corruption’s inevitable intertwining with power, institutional sedimentation, and processes of evaluation.

Analyzing data requires more than simply running one model and reporting the results. Getting trustworthy results requires careful checking of the data, including checking for and addressing missing values, nonlinearities, and collinearity, and generating any necessary composite or recoded variables such as interaction terms, scales or indices, or even lagged variables. Finally, problems occur when messy real-world data meet assumption-laden models. Endogeneity, simultaneity, omitted variable bias, fixed effects, and dichotomous DVs all violate key assumptions of the OLS model and require appropriate statistical and/or theoretical adjustments to produce trustworthy results.

This chapter examines the financing of the radical right inside and outside of the United States. The chapter focuses on why countering the radical right is so challenging, especially in the US context.

When the dryly assured narrator of Northanger Abbey introduces a new character by summarily denying “the necessity of a long and minute detail from Mrs. Thorpe herself, of her past adventures and sufferings,” Jane Austen effectively kicks Lady Vane, Leonora, Cynthia, Miss Price, Amri and this book’s chorus of motley tale-tellers out of the novel. Of course, as documented by the previous six chapters, Don Quixote, Henry Fielding, and other characters, authors, critics and common readers had been threatening to do as much for generations, and indeed, from the first. However, as we have now seen, that same propensity of eliciting such critical disfavor had already been a proven if unarticulated feature of the interpolated tales that early novelists continued to wield, disrupting their plots. For the two centuries between Don Quixote and Obi, interpolated tales were all but omnipresent: a pervasive, yet still consistently aggravating feature that co-constituted the novel form and provided critics and readers with an off-center vantage point from which to consider it. But sometime on or about 1800, novel relations changed, internally and formally, in a shift of balance from one prevailing version of heteroglossia to another.

Chapter 4 shows how, as the Wales novel congealed into a stable genre, it began to confront the knotty problem of race. The notorious economic underdevelopment of Wales posed a problem to Scottish Enlightenment-inspired anthropologists who cast climate and religion as the determinants of standardized, stadial socioeconomic progress. Such theories failed to account for the wealth gap between Wales and England, since Wales’s climate was mostly identical to England’s and Wales had come to be understood as the heartland of British Protestantism. As authors struggled to explain Welsh impoverishment, they became increasingly willing to use race to figure the Welsh as different from Anglo-Britons in kind, rather than in degree of social development. Some authors contended that the Welsh were “negroes,” “savages,” and “men of copper,” who deviated from a phenotypically white Britishness, while others insisted they were the progenitors of a pure race destined to rule the world.

At the heart of this chapter lies the following question: how can the fact that lawful behaviour can be enforced be explained against the background of Kant’s moral philosophy? I argue that without grounding Right in morality we cannot even understand coercion as a normative problem. The reason is that for Kant coercion becomes problematic only vis-à-vis persons, because they – being ends in themselves – can legitimately claim not to be coerced (1). This does not mean, however, that coercion is completely inadmissible according to Kant. For by defining equal, relational freedom as a sphere of non-domination, the law also defines a sphere in which coercion is permissible because it is morally unproblematic and requires no justification (2). Tracing back coercion to the limits of autonomy, however, does not only explain why coercive force is ‘deducible’ from moral autonomy (and the Categorical Imperative as its principle). Even more, this requires us to reconsider whether Kant can consistently argue against the external enforceability of internal perfect duties (e.g. the prohibition of suicide) (3).

National Socialist ideology and propaganda are often regarded as two sides of the same coin and justifiably so. If ideology and propaganda have been subjected to widespread scrutiny, much less has been written explicitly on National Socialist policy before 1933. Racialism was central to his ideological vision and coloured National Socialist policy and behaviour from the outset. A strong body of opinion once perceived Nazi propaganda, at least from 1928, as targeted on the middle classes. Our current understanding of the National Socialists' constituency indicates that it was exceptionally diverse in social terms, suggesting that the NSDAP's propaganda functioned as they would have wished. They intended to mobilise all 'ethnic' Germans, tried to do so and enjoyed a degree of success in crossing class, regional, confessional, gender and age barriers which was unprecedented in German political history.

The twenty-six grievances in the Declaration of Independence targeted two distinct categories of British policies: reforms and punishments. Parliamentary reforms like taxing the colonies to help pay for the 10,000 troops left in America at the end of the Seven Years’ War in 1763 (mostly as a human wall protecting colonists from Native Americans – and vice versa) angered free colonists, but not sufficiently to make them want out of the British Empire. Free Americans did, however, protest Parliament’s reforms, for example, by tarring and feathering Customs officials who cracked down on molasses smugglers, burning stamped paper, and throwing 340 chests of tea – taxed by Parliament and carried to American ports by the East India Company – into Boston Harbor. To punish the colonists for these protests, Parliament revoked Massachusetts’ charter, sent troops to reoccupy Boston, and more. Ultimately royal officials in the colonies even forged informal alliances with black Americans previously enslaved by George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and other Founders. It was these British punishments, not Parliament’s original reforms, that pushed free colonists over the edge into independence.