Approaching the issue of theodicy, this chapter reflects – in dialogue with John Hick – on the external conditions necessary for love’s perfection. It is contended that if human love is essentially sacrificial, it follows that the perfection of love requires the actualization of love’s sacrificial aspect. This means that God has reason to permit suffering and death to the extent that these evils are natural for humans as embodied and vulnerable creatures.

As the opening chapter of and introduction to the volume, this chapter serves three main purposes. First, it sets out the conceptual and intellectual background of the book as a whole and outlines the rationale for the core aim, which is to foreground local communities and their practices – locality and agency. Second, it outlines three broad topics that organize the case studies and thus provide an overall structure. Third, it briefly introduces the specific local contexts investigated in each chapter and clarifies how these engage with the overall theme and objective of the volume.

The Introduction poses the book’s central question: Can Kant’s aesthetic theory support a meaningful practice of art criticism? The prevailing view says no, citing his rejection of aesthetic testimony and general principles as evidence that criticism is impossible. If testimony is ruled out, critics’ judgments lack authority; without principles, descriptive reasons seem arbitrary. The Introduction reframes these challenges and locates their solution in Kant’s neglected notion of judgments of perfection – attributive good judgments that, while nonaesthetic, can inform and support aesthetic evaluation without violating Kant’s two aesthetic tenets. Building on this insight, the book develops a hybrid model of Kantian art criticism that combines this underappreciated resource with selective elements from contemporary generalist theories, particularly Carroll’s concept of success value. The Introduction situates this project as both a response to gaps in Kant scholarship and an intervention in current debates on the role of reasons in criticism.

An analysis of households and communities in the lower Segura and Vinalopó river valleys between the eighth and fifth centuries BCE provides an in-depth understanding of interactions between Indigenous and Phoenician groups and how people deployed various techniques for the spatial production of locality. In a context of intensive contacts between people of diverse origins, the production of places, economies and rituals of the households and their integration in wider communities and regional networks are considered. Particular attention is given to the role of settlements, neighbourhoods and houses as locales for materializing and structuring social relations within and among households.

Much has been written about the Phoenician colonization of Sardinia, and Phoenician colonial settlements on the island have seen extensive excavation, but much less attention has been given to the local communities of so-called Nuragic culture, despite their millennium-old roots and widespread distribution. Detailed investigation and comparison of two key sites on the central west coast shows that the Iron Age communities of this region drew on the particular ‘power of place’ to sustain their active involvement in shaping both the Iron Age landscape and their interactions with Phoenician outsiders while also affirming and elaborating their deep roots in the local past.

This chapter examines an alternative mode of public deliberation in post-revolutionary Tunisia by focusing on a group of left-wing militants who organize grassroots discussion initiatives, most notably the ciné-club – a gathering that blends film screenings with political debate. The ciné-club serves as a space for reclaiming Tunisia’s suppressed legacy of protest and its involvement in the global radical movements of the long 1960s. In contrast to official forums such as transitional justice hearings, which attempt to reconcile revolutionary ideals with the liberal democratic transition, ciné-club discussions assert the continued relevance of revolutionary leftist culture. They resist the depoliticizing pull of liberal norms and instead propose a different political temporality: one in which the revolutionary past informs an open-ended, insurgent present. By doing so, the ciné-club disrupts dominant narratives of linear democratic progress and reclaims space for alternative political imaginaries.

The years from 1956 to 1968 saw a profound cultural transformation in majority attitudes to religious minorities, and the latter’s engagement with Ireland. Israel’s victory in the wars of 1956 and 1967 changed the self-perception and public standing of the Jewish community. The disbanding of the British Empire in Africa, which was virtually completed by 1967, helped to detach Protestants from residual ‘West Briton’ nostalgia. In parallel with decolonisation, the beginning of the process of European integration created the prospect of a future political settlement within which minority status would be resolved in a pluralist definition of legitimate belonging. Finally, Vatican II (1962–5) was decisive in transforming the atmosphere of the country, but liberalisation was gradual, and at first often superficial. In 1966 – on the 50th anniversary of the Easter Rising – The Irish Times denounced the terrifying conditions of the country’s industrial and reformatory schools. That the minorities as a whole were unmoved by such revelations showed the extent to which – despite professions of liberalism – they were largely part of Ireland’s conservative consensus.

Questions about the social responsibilities of corporations or businesses are regarded by many as the most fundamental issues for business ethicists to solve. In the business ethics literature, debate has been starkly divided between stakeholder theory and stockholder theory, which at its most basic level means choosing either for or against the very idea of corporate social responsibility. This chapter gives a comprehensive and systematic overview of this extensive literature. In response to it, we develop a more nuanced view in line with our moral leeway approach. We argue that the justification of corporate social responsibility depends on a broad range of factors, including the urgency of the problem, the company’s ability to provide assistance, the cost of doing so, the importance of business as usual, and the availability of alternatives.

What role should morality or ethics play in economic interactions on markets? Much previous thinking on business ethics is unhelpful since it is polarised between two implausible extremes. Some neoclassical economists such as Milton Friedman believe ethics has no place in the market. We call this idea ‘economism’ and argue that it sits oddly with general intuitions about the importance of morality. On the other side are those philosophers who hold that traditional ethical theories, such as deontology or virtue ethics, can be applied just as readily in the business realm as they can in all other areas of social life. We call this idea ‘moralism’ and argue that it is unrealistic and unhelpful for typical interactions on competitive markets. We finally outline a more plausible alternative which is more balanced in this regard – the moral leeway approach to business ethics. Moral leeway accepts that the market is, in one sense, exceptional, in that actions which would be sanctioned in other spheres of life are accepted. But such leeway is only permissible in the context of a strong social network that ameliorates the sharp edges of the market.

This chapter summarizes the arguments of the book. It highlights that for judges who are democratically committed, the book has offered the theories and tools to help them build institutional resilience and contribute to democratic values. These tools cannot guarantee these democractic outcomes, as there is a limit as to what judges have control over in authoritarian environments. Nevertheless, constitutional courts are often heavily involved in the shaping of constitutional norms and structures. By pushing beyond the boundaries set by conventional conceptions of the judicial role, this book hopes to have instilled optimism in politically challenging environments and demonstrate how judges who are committed to the democratic cause can improve the chances of survival and success of constitutional courts.

In a blend of intellectual history and detailed explication, I intend to contextualize the historical moment of modernity, which gave rise to the literary properties recognized now as modernism (Miller, Ruins, 113–114). Then I shall assess in turn the delightful aesthetics and lasting impacts of three gifted African American poets: Langston Hughes, Melvin Tolson, and Robert Hayden. The modernism dates from 1940, the year of Hayden’s Heart-Shape in the Dust, to 1944, the date of Tolson’s Rendezvous with America, through Hughes’ Shakespeare in Harlem in 1942 and Freedom’s Plow in 1943 to a lyric masterpiece by Hayden in Night–Blooming Cereus (1972). In the process, I intend to examine a symbolic arc spiraling unpredictably between romantic epiphanies in time and shifting kinetics in African American modernist poetics.

The early years of a child’s life represent a critical period of development where identities form, relationships flourish and foundations for lifelong learning are established. Within this formative landscape, inclusion emerges not only as an educational approach but as a fundamental human right and ethical imperative. In Australian early childhood contexts, inclusive practice exists at the intersection of policy, pedagogy and personal commitment. This chapter establishes the conceptual underpinnings of inclusion and inclusive practice and invites the reader to consider inclusion not as an additional responsibility, but as the very essence of quality early childhood education and care. By creating environments where every child experiences belonging, participation and growth, we honour each individual child, while also laying the groundwork for a more equitable society.