Dolpo is a Himalayan Indigenous minority community currently settled within the northern political boundary of Nepal, bordering Tibet, China. Since the territorial conquest of Mustang and other regions within the Himalayas, initiated by King Prithivi Narayan Shah and his forces under Bahadur Shah during the 1800s AD, the Dolpo community, primarily composed of semipastoralists engaged in subsistence farming and barter exchanges, appears to have followed a trajectory akin to that of Mustang (Regmi 1995). Subsequently, the Nepalese government exerted active control over northern border points with China by the 1950s, largely in response to the increasing presence of the Khamba rebellion in the border areas (McGranahan 2018). Prior to this governmental oversight, the people of Dolpo predominantly adhered to their customary governance system, sustaining subsistence-based agriculture, relative autonomy, and trans-Himalayan trade for nearly a century. Upon the consolidation of territorial control, the rural region witnessed not only the presence of Indian police and officials from the Nepali government, but also the segmentation of Dolpo communities into various political administrative divisions, including village development committees (VDCs) and wards, which were subsequently integrated into the district-level administrative entity known as Dolpa. These mechanisms emerged as a moral framework to proselytize the recalcitrant raite (subject). Despite the inclusion of certain community members within these lower-level structures, Hindu authorities implemented these social and political realities without consulting the Dolpo community.

With the strengthening of Indigenous movements during the 1990s and the subsequent institutionalization of the National Federation of Indigenous Nationalities (NFDIN) in the early 2000s, the Nepalese government recognized the Dolpo as one of the 59 Indigenous nationalities.

This book is about the early evolution of the Persian language, specifically the emergence of Middle Persian from Old Persian in the time of the Achaemenian Persian Empire. The Introduction explains the project and defines critical terms. The concept of linguistic history is explained, followed by further notes on the critical use of certain terms and a sketch of the plan of the book.

We argue that all computational processes require data that must be received, represented, and processed. The inherent ambiguity in these processes is incompatible with a lawful explanation of psychological phenomena, in particular the successful performance of everyday goal-directed behaviors in organisms all at levels of taxonomic scale. We argue that, as scientific devices, metaphors are best used a posteriori to generate testable hypotheses about a well-developed theory. Therefore, we develop a metaphor for mind and brain in the context of the ecological approach to perceiving, acting, and cognizing – an approach in which the successful performance of everyday behavior is a lawful process of detecting and exploiting lawful relations. We propose that in this context, the brain could be understood as a fractal antenna. That is, it could aid in the detecting and exploiting of lawful relations at multiple nested levels, without generating, modifying, or interpreting such lawful relations.

This chapter traces the legal development of trans rights advocacy away from a medical model towards one based on gender identity. This shift resulted in an expansion of both terminology and concepts to encompass a broader cohort of individuals than previously envisaged. This eventially led to attempts by activists to reform the law towards a self-identification model. Both the Scottish and the UK government proposed gender recognition reform. After consultation, the UK government abandoned the project, concerned about the impact on women’s rights, but the Scottish government pressed ahead, ultimately leading to a legal dispute when the UK government used a power within devolution law to prevent the Scottish Gender Recognition Reform Bill from obtaiingn Royal Assent. This Chapter analyses the impact that self-identification of sex would have had on women’s sex-based equality rights and the resulting legal challenge brought to the lawfulness of the UK goverment blocking Scottish gender recognition reform.

A fundamental dilemma in both the radiology reading room as well as the courtroom is whether a potential abusive head or spinal injury may be mistaken for other entities – both pathological processes and also normal anatomical or physiological variants.

A number of differential diagnoses, or mimics, for abusive head trauma may be apparent radiologically, but many may not be. Striving to achieve a medical “diagnosis” of an abusive injury requires the interplay between the radiologist and numerous other clinical specialties. The wide differentials which we discuss include accidental trauma, coagulopathies – both congenital and acquired, metabolic disorders, sepsis and vascular malformations, with all needing to be excluded before reaching a conclusion of nonaccidental trauma.

The experienced radiologist and clinician working in the challenging field of child protection also recognises that it is not always possible to reach a clear-cut decision and learning to communicate levels of uncertainty is essential. Part of this process is to always be alert to diagnostic mimics that may mislead the inexperienced and unwary.

The extended examination chapter of the sixth edition of the WHO manual presents additional tests that include: indices of multiple defects, sperm DNA fragmentation (SDF) test, sperm aneuploidy test, tests related to immunology, assessment of interleukins, anti-Spermatozoa-antibody coating of spermatozoa, assessment of immature germ cells, biochemical assays for accessory gland function, and assessment of sequence of ejaculation. Of note, some of these exams were already included in previous versions of the textbook and have simply been revised, while others are an absolute novelty in the new edition.

Although these tests present some limitations (e.g. lack of standardization, unclear cut-offs, cost-effectiveness) that preclude their use for routine semen examination, they may be useful in selected circumstances, either for diagnostic or research purposes. The present chapter is structured to give to the clinician a practical guide on physiological principles of the tests, as well as suggest situations in which they might be useful and how to interpret the results.

In 1917, a small group of women, some of whom had just come out of purdah, began to meet regularly for Red Cross work in Birbhum, Bengal. Called upon by Saroj Nalini Dutt (1887–1925), a Bengali social reformer and early rural development activist, the members of the Birbhum Mahilā Samiti (Birbhum women's group) sewed garments and made dātuns (teeth-cleaning sticks) made from the neem tree as well as pacīsī boards (an Indian game) for Indian soldiers fighting in the First World War. Dutt, who was honoured for her activities after the war by the British Red Cross Society (BRCS), also sent a monthly consignment of sweets, condiments, and newspapers to soldiers serving in Mesopotamia. The Birbhum group, which normally focused its activities on the social and educational ‘progress’ of Bengali women, is only one of the many examples of Indian non-state humanitarian initiatives organised during the First World War. Given that these initiatives were embedded in the British imperial context and contributed to the empire's war effort, they are examples of a larger phenomenon that historians before me have labelled ‘imperial humanitarianism’.

Two decades later, Jawaharlal Nehru (1889–1964), the future prime minister of independent India, and by then, President of the Indian National Congress (INC), became involved in propagating and organising Indian nationalist humanitarian activities. During the Spanish Civil War (1936–39), Nehru swayed the Indian national movement to create its own humanitarian programme, which saw the collection of funds and food items in favour of Republican Spain.

The second chapter focuses on the residential boom in and around the Subura and the building campaigns of Augustus, which betray the emperor’s consternation with the bustling commercial and residential district. A reputation for prostitution began to emerge, so close to the monumental center, and this is considered in the context of Augustus’ building program in the neighborhood, namely the Basilica Aemilia and the Porticus Liviae, which together bookended the lower Subura valley.

This chapter characterizes the very idea of autonomy as a response to two problems: understanding the source of normativity and the reality of freedom. Following debates on normativity (Pufendorf and Leibniz) and freedom (Locke, Hume, Rousseau), Kant introduces the notion of autonomy as a unified response to both problems. On this account, to be positively free and to be normatively bound are one and the same thing: to follow rules one has given to oneself. After discussing the attractiveness of this idea, the chapter elaborates a first fundamental challenge: the so-called paradox of autonomy, suggesting that autonomy at its very foundation reverts to heteronomy or arbitrariness. The chapter shows that Kant’s conception is indeed threatened by this paradox and develops Kant’s ways of avoiding it. It argues that Kant’s most important resource, however, has not yet been fully acknowledged: It consists in his concept of self-organizing beings from the third Critique. To avoid the paradox, we should no longer think of self-determination in terms of self-legislation but rather conceive of it in terms of living self-constitution. The chapter closes by discussing why Kant himself did not fully develop this resource and argues that the main reason resides in his notion of transcendental freedom.

Final reflections on the meaning of the transformation of ancient Persian, from Old to Middle Persian, put these events in the context of growing human mobility, migration, and population contact from the first millennium BCE until today, with its effects on language. This study has also unexpectedly shed light on the role of conquered people, particularly enslaved people in the domestic spaces of the Persians. Such people have left very little trace otherwise, but their role in the shaping of the Persian language and culture is remarkable. Their effects on Persian culture are still evident in the reduced morphology of Persian until toay. Prospects for new research linguistic history along these lines come into view.