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In Parts of Animals II.10, Aristotle introduces an approach to studying the nonuniform parts of animals: “to speak about the human kind first” (656a10). This chapter asks why Aristotle adopts this strategy and how he goes about implementing it. I argue that he selects it because he holds that human bodies offer particularly clear illustrations of some of his scientific concepts, including the relationship between parts and the ends they are for the sake of. As a result, he thinks that beginning with the causal explanations of human parts helps us to develop such explanations for the parts of other animals, especially when it is difficult to do so.
Aristotle’s understanding of natural objects as matter-form compounds raises important questions about how this hylomorphic view applies to living beings. More specifically:
(1) Is the form of living compounds ‘pure,’ that is essentially independent of matter, or ‘true-gritty,’ that is, essentially matter-involving?
(2) In his standard view, the form is prior to matter and the compound. But how can the form of living compounds meet this priority requirement if it is ‘true-gritty’?
(3) If, by contrast, the form of living compounds is ‘pure,’ how can it be the principle of material and changeable living compounds?
I argue that in De Partibus Animalium (PA), too, forms of living compounds are ‘true-gritty.’ They are also, however, prior to living compounds and their matter. PA offers evidence for a distinction between the type of matter that is essential to form and that of living compounds, which is not essential to but posterior to the form.
Chapter 7 systematically re-examines Machiavelli’s beliefs about lo stato as they emerge in his early political writings and culminate in the first full statement of his theory in Il Principe. The architecture of that theory is clarified: it is an account of both free and unfree states, and it is shown to be articulated according to a theory of rhetorical definition which was instantly recognizable to his humanist contemporaries. The place of Machiavelli’s thinking about liberty and its absence in the princely state is then investigated, as is his account of state formation, which is demonstrably conducted in equally rhetorical terms, recurring not only to the concepts of form and material to describe how political bodies are artfully assembled and shaped, but also to rhetorical ideas about invention and disposition in Machiavelli’s view of the creative work involved in founding new states. The chapter identifies the evolving role of a theory of political obligation within Machiavelli’s account of the state, before culminating in an analysis of his understanding of Fortuna’s role in state matters and his rejection of the Senecan wisdom which elsewhere informed Renaissance thinking about the remedies for good and bad luck in human affairs.
In this chapter, I argue that the first book of the Parts of Animals (PA) expresses a form of realism about animal species. While the claim that Aristotle was a realist about species may seem obvious to those coming to the PA from the Metaphysics, the current view among specialists is that Aristotle’s zoology was not working with a concept of species. Some have even gone so far as to avoid translating eidos as “species” throughout his zoological writings. In contrast to this, I argue: first, that indivisible species constitute the ousiai of Aristotle’s zoology; and, second, that the aim of Aristotelian zoological division is to identify and organize the features specified in the definition of those species. The latter (epistemological) claim is explicit in the discussion of division in PA I 2–3, while the former (ontological) claim is advanced in PA I 4.
This chapter considers the place of the four books of the Parts of Animals (PA) within Aristotle’s envisaged sequence of biological writings. It argues that PA I belongs integrally with II–IV (rather than being a self-standing theoretical essay) and that the entire project of PA I–IV presupposes key theoretical and factual discoveries made in the Historia Animalium (HA), contra the ‘Balme hypothesis’ according to which HA postdates the explanatory treatises and represents a more advanced stage of inquiry. Finally, it shows that the mantra “being is prior to coming-to-be” (which governs the PA–GA axis) has important implications for our understanding of the explanations in PA II–IV. It concludes with some remarks on the overall structure of Aristotle’s biological corpus.
This chapter introduces the Greek concept of stasis, which is the term archaic and classical authors most frequently apply to episodes of regime-threatening political violence. It also reviews existing scholarship on the nature of stasis; describes the elements and dynamics that are typical of stasis; defines this commonly misunderstood term; and introduces a set of criteria designed to enable accurate diagnosis of as many staseis as possible, allow for consistent implementation in a broad range of historical and evidentiary contexts, map onto fifth- and fourth-century understandings of stasis as closely as possible, and ensure that, when departures from that emic understanding are necessary, they are implemented in a way that strengthens the validity of the results obtained in Chapters 2–12.
With the expulsion of the Central European University (CEU) and the establishment of public trust foundations, the academic world in Hungary has come under pressure unprecedented in the European Union (EU). The measures taken by the Orbán government have been decried as an assault on academic freedom, undermining the fundamental values of the EU. While the European Commission is obligated to uphold European values as per the treaties, its capacity to do so with regard to academic freedom has been underwhelming. In this paper, I argue that the EU is institutionally handicapped in its approach to protecting academic freedom because of, firstly, a lack of competences in the field of higher education and, secondly, an insufficient definition of academic freedom in EU law. By finding innovative ways to link the protection of academic freedom to its competences and by institutionalising an operational definition of academic freedom, the EU could better protect academic freedom and universities in general in its Member States.
Discussion about, and analysis of, the question of definition and the third sector and civil society more generally has developed to a significant degree in recent years. This paper can be located in a new phase of recent research, which seeks to attend to the historical, cultural and politically contingent nature of this domain’s boundaries. The process of constituting the sector is discussed as the product of new discourses of decontestation and contention within third sector policy and practice. It takes England as a case study, drawing on evidence and argument assembled by the authors in recent and ongoing research efforts, variously conducted with the support of the Third Sector Research Centre (TSRC) and the European Commission. The paper proceeds by discussing relevant literature; describing recent patterns of policy institutionalisation; and then tries to draw out more analytically how this process of constitution has been associated not so much with a stable and consistent set of definitions and constructs, but rather with unstable and changing formulations, which reflect the playing out of a dual process of decontestation and contention.
The idea of a “third sector” beyond the arenas of the state and the market is probably one of the most perplexing concepts in modern political and social discourse, encompassing as it does a tremendous diversity of institutions and behaviors that only relatively recently have been perceived in public or scholarly discourse as a distinct sector, and even then with grave misgivings. Initial work on this concept focused on what is still widely regarded as its institutional core, the vast array of private, nonprofit institutions (NPIs), and the volunteer as well as paid workers they mobilize and engage. These institutions share a crucial characteristic that makes it feasible to differentiate from for-profit enterprises: the fact that they are prohibited from distributing any surplus they generate to their investors, directors, or stakeholders and therefore presumptively serve some broader public interest. Many European scholars have considered this conceptualization too narrow; however, arguing that cooperatives, mutual societies, and, in recent years, “social enterprises” as well as social norms should also be included. However, this broader concept has remained under-conceptualized in reliable operational terms. This article corrects this short-coming and presents a consensus operational re-conceptualization of the third sector fashioned by a group of scholars working under the umbrella of the European Union’s Third Sector Impact Project. This re-conceptualization goes well beyond the widely recognized definition of NPIs included in the UN Handbook on Nonprofit Institutions in the System of National Accounts by embracing as well some, but not all, of these additional institutions and forms of direct individual activity, and does so in a way that meets demanding criteria of comparability, operationalizability, and potential for integration into official statistical systems.
This introduction presents a novel framework that distinguishes three activities of organized crime (OC): production (creating goods and services), trade (moving products and people), and governance (regulating markets and controlling communities). These activities require different skills and give rise to three different types of OC groups. To illustrate some of the points, I make references to the papers published in this Special Issue, on erotic fiction in China by Wang and Evelyn; on falsified medicines production and trade between Asia and Europe by Hamill; on drugs retail and gang control of a neighbourhood in Marseilles by Rodgers and Jensen; and the cocaine international distribution chain by Feltran.
Chapter 2 maps the contours of this doctrine, indicating the sources of the questions on which the critique builds. This chapter purposefully identifies doctrinal understandings (inclusions, exclusions, preponderances and assumptions), as focussed on definitions, distinctions, interpretation, contexts and conditions. In so doing, it maps the grounds for my broader claims as well as identifying entry points for their critique in subsequent chapters.
Contemporary understandings of torture are ruled by a medico-legal duopoly: the language of law (regulating definition and prohibition) and that of medicine (controlling understandings of the body in pain). This duopoly has left little space for contextual conceptualisation – of ideological, emotional and imaginational impulses which function in readily recognising some forms of violence and dismissing others. This book challenges the rigour of this prevailing duopoly. In its place, it develops a new approach to critique the central scripts of 'law and torture' scholarship (around progress, violence, evidence and senses). Drawing on socio-legal and critical-theoretical scholarship, it aims to 'widen the apertures' of the dominant dogmas to their interconnected social, political, temporal and emotional dimensions. These dimensions, the book advances, hold the key to more fully understanding not only the production of torture's definition and prohibition; but also its normative contestation – to better grasp whose pain gets recognised and redressed and why.
Chapter 2 identifies various types of sound-related words in order to define the scope of onomatopoeia and the place of onomatopoeia in the system of language. It argues in favour of its ‘narrow’ definition by reserving this notion exclusively for direct sound imitation to distinguish onomatopoeia from signs based on cross-modal iconicity, from interjections, and from onomatopoeia-based derivatives and semantic shifts. This chapter also illustrates the different status and functions of onomatopoeic words in the sample languages.
What is a counterrevolution? And how often do they occur? Chapter 2 is devoted to answering these foundational questions. According to this book, a counterrevolution is an irregular effort in the aftermath of a successful revolution to restore a version of the pre-revolutionary political regime. The chapter begins by explaining and contextualizing this definition. It reviews the various alternative understandings of counterrevolution that have been invoked by both scholars and activists. It then explains the decision to adopt a definition of counterrevolution as restoration and shows how this definition was operationalized in building the original dataset. The second half of the chapter lays out the main high-level findings from this dataset. About half of all revolutionary governments have faced a counterrevolutionary challenge of some type, and roughly one in five of these governments was successfully overturned. Moreover, these counterrevolutions have been distributed unevenly: the vast majority have toppled democratic revolutions, rather than ethnic or leftist ones. And counterrevolutions had for years been declining in frequency, until the last decade when this trend reversed. These descriptive findings provide the motivation for the theory developed in Chapter 3.
Similar to the last chapter, in this one I provide a foundation for understanding the field of peace education and its current state. Peace education is rooted in peace studies and closely connected to peacebuilding, though it may also be used in diverse contexts. For the purposes of this book, we focus on positive peace, or fostering the conditions that promote equity, justice, and harmony. A particular branch of peace education focuses on engaging young people in becoming aware of broader systems driving violence and then taking action to address these inequities. After summarizing this area of critical peace education, I then turn to debates in the field, which include how to define it, whether to center the individual (e.g., providing them with tools to promote peace) or broader systems, and the lack of empirical evidence. Still, I argue it is valuable to discuss and consider peace education both because of the widespread need to address violence at multiple levels, as well as the fact that it is employed in many settings across the world.
I begin the first section of the book by introducing restorative justice, providing background about its development, and summarizing current conversations in the field. My aim is to begin our journey with an orientation to how restorative justice in schools has developed, the debates about best practices and questions about its implementation, and gaps in the research on its potential. Over the last two decades, the use of restorative justice has grown considerably in schools, partially in response to increasing awareness that punitive systems have negative consequences for students and school communities. Its implementation, however, has been varied and highly contextual. As I summarize current question in the field, I therefore highlight that even as much research has explored its potential to impact certain in-school measures – attendance, school climate, behavioral concerns – there is still considerable conversation around best practices and how it is linked to important developmental outcomes.
This chapter discusses Ockham’s views of the formation and character of syncategorematic terms and the roles these views play in his metaphysics and philosophy of language. Ockham claims that thoughts are sentences composed of categorematic and syncategorematic terms and spoken and written descriptions are subordinated to them. He maintains that everything in his ontology can be signified by a categorematic term while syncategorematic terms do not signify. For Ockham, categorematic terms can be thought of as effects of causal contacts made with things and some contemporary scholars, and some of Ockham’s contemporaries, extend this picture to syncategorematic terms as well. This chapter argues that Ockham rejects this extension, denies that distinct true sentences are made true by distinct beings, and embraces the conclusion that there are more truths than truth-makers with profound consequences for his metaphysics.
Although stipulating what category a particular phenomenon illustrates rather than presenting arguments for the conclusion does not seem like a good way to carry out science, stipulation is frequent in linguistics, not only for categories like inflection, derivation and compound, but also notably for word-classes.
This chapter delves into the foundational sources and principles underpinning Chinese property law. It defines property rights and highlights their features, emphasising the distinctions between property rights and personal rights in the Chinese legal context. The core of the chapter explores the sources of property law, which include the Constitution, national legislation, administrative regulations, local regulations, judicial interpretations and civil customs. This section underscores the significant influence of Roman law and German civil law traditions on Chinese property law. Next, the chapter discusses the basic principles of property law: the principle of numerus clausus, which restricts the types of property rights to those defined by law; the principle of equal protection, which ensures that state, collective and private property rights are equally protected; and the publicity principle, which mandates that property rights must be publicly recorded to be enforceable against third parties. Finally, the chapter addresses the classification of property, distinguishing between corporeal and incorporeal property, as well as between movable and immovable property.
How do you find a linguistic variable? This chapter will discuss the key construct in the variationist paradigm – the linguistic variable. It will detail its definition, describe what a linguistic variable is, how to identify it, and how to circumscribe it.