This chapter explores the evolving depiction of the Land of Israel in Hebrew poetry, reflecting the creation of modern Hebrew culture. It contrasts ancient expressions of longing for Zion with the transformed image of Israel as a tangible landscape. The chapter examines how poets from various Zionist immigration periods depicted their encounters with the land, ranging from messianic ecstasy to realistic sobriety. Each era produced poets who articulated their complex experiences, as exemplified by Noah Stern’s poem “Smells” (1935), which captures the blend of hallucinations, disappointments, tortures, pleasures, closeness, and alienation. Each poem is a new chapter in the ongoing narrative of encountering the land.

Chapter 2 explains why the free expression right is relevant to laws regulating trademarks. Legislatures and courts agree that trademark laws can potentially conflict with this fundamental human right in constitutions, treaties, and statutes. Examples include the Recitals in the EU Trade Mark Regulation and Trade Mark Directive, the Court of Justice of the European Union’s Constantin Film case, and the US Supreme Court cases Matal v. Tam and Iancu v. Brunetti. This chapter also discusses the free speech theories relevant in the trademark context (such as the marketplace of ideas), why uses of trademarks are usually “expression” covered by the free expression right, and state action doctrine. With a focus on US free speech law, the chapter then discusses strict and intermediate constitutional scrutiny. It notes the analysis is different when laws regulate trademarks based on their viewpoint or content, and when the regulated speech is noncommercial or commercial, or fits into a category of expression that falls outside of the boundaries of the First Amendment. The chapter concludes with a discussion of William McGeveran’s four free speech goals for trademark law.

The recreative view of the imagination sees it as a ‘mirror’ of basic mental attitudes: There are imaginative (pretend) variants of beliefs, i-beliefs (ordinarily called imaginings), i-seeings (visualizings), i-desires, i-emotions … the imagination is ‘half of psychic life’, as Meinong put it. The single attitude rival view sees the imagination instead as a sui generis nonderivative mental attitude, with distinctive traits: distinctive functional roles, distinctive norms to which it is beholden, and a distinctive phenomenology. This chapter confronts a recent argument by analogy for i-desires, due to Greg Currie, which is based on an alleged parallel between beliefs and desires. The chapter argues in response that this argument fails because the parallel on which it relies fails to obtain on different influential accounts of desires. The discussion strengthens responses to earlier arguments for i-desires.

A sixty-nine-year-old man with severe necrotizing fasciitis in the setting of a newly diagnosed, metastatic cancer is transferred from an outside hospital for further evaluation of treatment options, including surgical debridement. His family indicates he is a member of a small, adherent religious community that holds the belief that all life-sustaining measures should be pursued and that any breath he takes constitutes meaningful life, even if it causes severe suffering. The patient’s altered mental status due to brain metastases prevents him from verbally communicating with the team, but he intermittently tracks movement of the healthcare team and grimaces in response to painful stimuli. This case narrative explores surgical ethics and moral distress evoked by this haunting case, with analysis from a consulting clinical ethicist who supported communication with family about treatment options and a clinical ethicist who provided guidance on code status and led nursing ethics rounds with the care team.

That the Declaration of Independence could be considered from the perspective of rhetoric might seem rather obvious, if not downright self-evident. Even so, appreciating how Jefferson thought about language not as an abstract concept but as a lived and material practice can help us appreciate the text of the Declaration from different perspectives. The text is shot through with the histories of race, nation, empire, and belonging that characterized the ideology of American revolutionary republicanism, and with Jefferson’s thinking about these forces and his own anxious place in them. In fact, despite and perhaps even in part because of his own difficulties with public speaking, Jefferson thought about the ability to access and marshal rhetorical exemplars and put them to use in legal and political argument as an elemental part of what it meant to be an effective citizen. His thinking about material rhetoric, about the absorption of what one read through notes, commentary, and commonplace books, turns out to be a critical component of how he thought about the legitimacy of the American project and of how he framed that project in successive drafts of the Declaration itself.

As the principal instrument of American propaganda abroad, the United States Information Agency (USIA) battled an ongoing image problem in sub-Saharan Africa. Further complicating the USIA efforts in South Africa was the new hostility between diplomats in the African offices of the State Department and the Nixon administration, which inaugurated an early version of the constructive engagement policy that would be more fully realized during the Reagan administration in the 1980s. Given how little leverage USIA had to influence South African policy, the South African offices may have been some of the USIA's least effective (or at least efficient) operations during this period. It is counterfactual to suggest that, in an environment in which Cold War tensions played little to no role, the United States would have necessarily acted more aggressively to challenge the National Party government on the subject of apartheid.

In the framework of the common objective of this volume, this chapter focuses on the technological element –expressed in AI– which is usually part of the definition of remote work. This chapter discusses how AI tools shape the organization and performance of remote work, how algorithms impact remote workers rights and how trade unions and workers can harness these powerful instruments to improve working and living conditions. Three hypotheses are considered. First, that AI systems and algorithmic management generate a de facto deepening of the subordinate position of the worker. Second, that this process does not represent technological determinism but instead the impact of human and institutional elements. And finally, that technological resources usually are more present in remote work than in traditional work done at the workplace. These hypotheses and concerns are addressed in several ways: by contextualizing the issue over time, through a multi-level optic centered on the interactions of different levels of regulation, by examining practical dimensions and finally by exploring the implications for unions and worker agency.

This chapter focuses on the ways in which maskilic (Jewish enlightenment) authors reshaped elements of the Hebrew language in order to make it suitable for use as a vehicle of modern European-style literature. Maskilic authors were motivated by the principle that the creation of a Hebrew literary canon based on European-language models was an essential component of the Jews’ Enlightenment. They developed a wide range of new written genres which had not previously existed in Hebrew, including original and translated novels, short stories, novellas, anecdotes, feuilletons, and plays; a flourishing press; popular science (e.g., astronomy, physics, biology, chemistry, zoology), politics, geography, and history; and fiction and nonfiction works for young readers. This large-scale endeavor resulted in the emergence of numerous linguistic innovations. In this chapter we examine several key yet understudied innovative features of maskilic Hebrew: 1) realistic colloquial dialogue, including a) new punctuation norms, b) use of interjections, and c) forms of address; 2) discussions of contemporary scientific and political topics using newly developed Hebrew vocabulary and European loanwords; and 3) prose syntax based on German and Russian stylistic models. These new components of Hebrew paved the way for the later vernacularization of the language in Ottoman Palestine.

In this reading of Frances Sheridan’s sentimental novel, The Memoirs of Miss Sidney Bidulph (1761), centering a short embedded tale, previously dismissed as “padding,” flips the script such that didacticism serves as an object of critique instead of its vehicle. As a captivity narrative about debt and consent, “The History of Miss Price” tells of how its plucky tale heroine escapes a sexually predatory creditor, eventually achieving her comic ending with the help of Sidney Bidulph, the otherwise passive novel heroine. In a plot line more famously recirculated by Susanna Rowson in Charlotte Temple (1794) and Charles Dickens in Nicholas Nickleby (1838–1839), Sheridan provides a public forum for legitimating gendered harms previously silenced as too private to be shareable. As a successful speech act, the tale rebukes the novel heroine’s supposedly exemplary model of female passivity and quiescence, and its form, message, and critique are reiterated in the sequel, Conclusion of the Memoirs of Miss Sidney Bidulph (1767).

We tend to think that we are prima facie morally entitled to determine the course of our own lives to some degree, and to make our own decisions about matters that are personal to us. Dworkin speaks of our “right to make decisions about the character of [our] lives”. Feinberg suggests that we plausibly have a personal domain over which we are “sovereign” and hence where we “alone” have the final say about “what is to happen”. And Akhlaghi defends the idea that we have a pro tanto or defeasible moral right to “autonomous self-making” – viz. a pro tanto moral right to autonomously decide to make certain “transformative choices” that will influence how our lives will go and who we will become.

The patient presented at night. She was at forty-two weeks gestation, in stalled labor, with fetal heart rates in prolonged deceleration. Due to the hour, no records were available from the outside facility where she said she had received prenatal care. An urgent cesarean section was recommended, but she refused. Her husband was passively supportive of her decision. There were some concerns about mental illness, but no clear history was known to the team. Over the next several hours, the obstetric team attempted to respectfully persuade her to accept the cesarean as the fetus was in very serious distress. An ethics consult was requested. The patient acknowledged that her baby could die or suffer grave damage but felt doctors are too eager to deliver by c-section and that the baby would be fine. She also said she would be so traumatized by a cesarean that she did not think she could bear it.

The team considered whether the patient had decision-making capacity and what could be done to assist the fetus without harming the mother. The ethicist questions whether she could have done more to balance the competing vulnerabilities in this case.

This chapter emphasizes narrative as a vehicle for psychological analysis. It begins by noting the prominence of emotion in the Confessions; Augustine himself tells us in the Reconsiderations that the work is meant to arouse not just the mind but also the heart toward God. It argues that the Confessions contributes to ancient philosophical debates about the character of the emotions and how they should be controlled and moderated. The work presents a “therapy of the emotions” that is sometimes aligned with, and sometimes in critical tension with, the philosophical spiritual exercises proposed by earlier writers. Augustine is, in certain respects, more hopeful about progress in virtue than his philosophical predecessors; he presents his therapy of the soul for everyone, not just those with fortunate natural proclivities. Yet he insists that such progress can be made only by God’s grace. The techniques of ancient philosophy are, in themselves, unavailing for moral transformation.