I begin by narrowing down the realm of human ‘production’, the requirements it places on our faculties and why humans are essentially productive animals. I then move on to three philosophical accounts of human productivity: those of Aristotle, Marx and Gwen Bradford respectively. Aristotle’s account is marred by class prejudice, Marx’s by a hyper-focus on the conditions rather than the results of ‘labour’, and Bradford’s by an over-formal analysis of production that has too little to say about products. By contrast, I propose a comprehensive account that has substantive things to say about producers, processes of production and products. My account distinguishes two productive ‘poles’, namely: (1) those powers engaged in the producer (productive ‘inputs’); and (2) those powers engaged in the consumer (productive ‘outputs’). Production is good overall to the degree it protects and promotes the perfection of both producers’ and consumers’ powers. I round off Chapter 9 by tackling the ‘anti-work’ critique, arguing that it fails to show work as such is a bad. Indeed, production remains perfective of humans in virtue of their productive nature.

Beginning on a wage of £1 per week in 1934, Lesley Long was the first woman employed by the Commercial Union Insurance Company in Hobart, Tasmania. Long’s pay gradually increased to £2/10 per week and after five years of saving she was able to fulfil her dream of sailing to England in May 1939. Having found a job and a place to rent in London, Long spent one night each week and her Saturdays volunteering at Guy’s Hospital. Having been a member of a VA detachment in Hobart since 1934, Long was eager to continue as a VA in London. When war was declared in Europe only a few months after she had arrived, Long’s voluntary work became more important to her. But it also brought an end to her chance to holiday in Europe as she had planned. As the situation worsened and wartime restrictions in London began to take effect, Long said to herself, ‘What am I doing here? I might as well get home.’

The wartime priorities for Australia shifted during the summer of 1941–42 as tensions in the Pacific increased, with Japan and the United States entering and quickly mobilising for war after the bombing of Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941. With the sinking of the HMAS Sydney off the West Australian coast in November 1941, Australia’s concern for the Indo-Pacific was already mounting. When Singapore then fell to the Japanese on 15 February 1942, and with it 18 000 Australian troops captured, Australia felt the situation worsening. With the first bombing of Darwin in February 1942, soon after the fall of Singapore, war had reached the nation’s shores, and the threat of invasion became immediate. Australia then withdrew its troops from the Middle East, where the majority had been serving, and the defence of its own territory dominated the nation’s consciousness. This sparked a change in attitude for Australia which caused a rapid growth in service enlistments, including with both the civilian and Army VAD organisations.

Jessie Laurie commenced her affiliation with nursing in 1939, joining the Dugan VA Detachment in Adelaide. Eager to volunteer for the Army when the opportunity came, Laurie was one of just 24 South Australian women to serve in the Middle East as a VA during the war. A clerk in her civilian life, Laurie was first allocated to general duties in the Middle East with the 2/1st AGH and then the 2/6th (shown in Figure 7.1). While with the 2/6th AGH, Laurie was assigned to the service of Major George Halliday. An ear, nose, and throat (ENT) specialist, Halliday ran a clinic for troops in the area and Laurie was selected to work as his assistant. After the Australian forces were withdrawn from the Middle East in 1942 and redirected to the Pacific Campaign, Laurie, now a Private in the AAMWS, joined Halliday as his assistant and helped staff his small mobile hearing clinic in Far North Queensland for troops camped on the Atherton Tableland.

This is the first of three chapters dealing in depth with directors’ duties, following the overview provided in Chapter 10. The duties are divided into two themes: duties of care, skill and diligence, and duties of loyalty and good faith. The focus in this chapter is on the duties of care, skill and diligence. These duties are imposed by the common law, equity and the Corporations Act. This chapter commences with the common law and equitable foundations of the duty of care, skill and diligence, and considers their adoption into statute and the current law. It examines the safe harbour provided by the business judgment rule, and recent discussion on the scope and application of that rule. This chapter examines the ability of directors to delegate their duties and to reasonably rely on the information or advice provided by certain types of persons. Finally, the chapter considers the requirements imposed on directors and officers as a company approaches insolvency. The chapters which follow then consider the duties of loyalty and good faith.

This chapter is an introduction to the Enlightenment mock arts, set out in three historical hypotheses. First, early-modern writers became increasingly interested in the cognitive (rather than simply material) value in the work of skilled technicians. The mock-arts were models for the intuitions involved in skilled manufacture, related to certain ineffable components of literary production. Second, the literary framing for those investigations was invariably satirical (or oblique and critical in other ways). As specialists in literary wit, authors of mock arts put themselves forward as experts in curiosity, invention and communication. Third, writers became more subtle in their assumptions about the print trade and the suitability of books as tools that might contribute to the communication of personal knowledge. Since convention defined that sort of knowledge by the impossibility of pinning it down in books, this opened another field for irony and indirection.

In the seventeenth century British natural philosophers explored the cognitive value of mechanical trades. From the beginning, these explorations of down-to-earth manual processes were expressed in oblique and ironic texts. In utopian fictions by Thomas More, Francis Bacon and Gabriel Plattes, mechanical trades were presented as at once near-at-hand and alien to the world of books and codified knowledge. Bacon’s mid-century followers tried to negotiate these difficulties in plans to compile a comprehensive ‘History of Trades’. In the period’s most widely circulated didactic text, Izaac Walton’s Compleat Angler, the tacit and haptic dimension of a humble pass-time was explored through genial satire and eccentric textual design. Later, one highly literate artisan, the printer and instrument maker Joseph Moxon, gave thought to the difference between the artisanal expertise he employed as a manual technician and the theoretical knowledge he dealt with as a writer and fellow of the Royal Society.

This chapter is partly about how actions are executed and how the details of people’s behavioral performance should be explained. But it also introduces some classes of action that find no place within the standard belief-desire model. These include habitual actions as well as speeded skilled actions, including many speech actions. To the extent that philosophers have addressed these kinds of action at all, their theories have run the gamut from complete mindlessness to full-blown intellectualism. The chapter critiques some influential accounts of the latter sort, after emphasizing that skilled actions are as distinctively human as are our rational capacities.

This chapter defines what kind of input contains the data necessary for acquisition (communicatively embedded input) and focuses on its fundamental role in acquisition. Subsequently, we review the claims on the role of output and interaction, focusing on these major issues: Comprehensible output is necessary for acquisition; comprehensible output is beneficial for acquisition; comprehensible output does little to nothing for acquisition. We also discuss the nature of interaction more generally, focusing on whether interaction affects the acquisition of formal features of language.

An essential practice of the transport work at the station, one that focuses many of the concurrent and competing attempts to make a living, is the preparation of buses for departure. This is what the station workers refer to as ‘loading’, the significance of which highlights key aspects of hustle as activity. Chapter 4 looks at the practices and the various ruses, tricks, and bluffs that make up the task and craft of loading. It shows how changes in the organisational structure of the station, accelerated by the pressures of the urban labour market, have created a context of loading that is permeated by contingent constellations, a situation of constantly reproduced hustle. After detailing the practices of non-competitive and competitive loading, it turns the analysis around to describe the different ways in which station dwellers experience, accommodate themselves to, and try to exploit situations of hustle.

Chapter 7 extends the typology of waiting at the station (established in Chapter 6) by considering the practices of two groups who exploit rather than endure periods of waiting: the station’s mobile vendors and service providers, and so-called ‘shadow passengers’, a group of professional ‘waiters’ deployed to entice passengers to enter the buses. By transforming what, to passengers, is often tantamount to ‘empty’ and ‘delayed’ time into a means of generating income, the commercial practices of station hawkers and shadows valorise the waiting time of others, thus harnessing economic margins as characteristic of hustle as activity. The close reading of different waiting temporalities as they unfold within and encompass the station hustle throws into sharp relief the irregularity of work engagements and the different ways in which people act on the temporal porosity that these engagements entail.

Language use is a skill that requires exposure to language, feedback on usage, and practice. So children need exposure from expert speakers, feedback on the language being acquired, and on any errors children produce, and practice along the way. Languages differ, so the paths children follow within and across languages may vary, and some constructions may be harder to acquire in one language, easier in another. The goal is to learn to use language for communication. Language is essentially social, relying on common ground. Part I (Chapters 2-6) focusses on how adults talk with children; children’s analysis of the speech stream; their first production of words; and how they assign meanings to words. Part II (Chapters 7-11) focusses on children’s acquisition of structure: elaborations of information inside clauses, and combinations of clauses. They also rely on structure when coining new words. Part III (Chapters 12-14) looks at turn-taking, learning to be polite, persuasive, and informative, and how to tell stories. Children who hear two languages have two such systems to learn. Part IV (Chapters 15-16) summarizes evidence for biological specialization for language and considers how continuity and change are reflected in language processing.

Similar to changes that occurred during the Nadir, for the decades since the 1973–1975 recession, African American – White wage and family income inequality has remained stagnant, despite unambiguous progress in the average quantity and quality of African American education relative to White Americans. This progress was due do African American self-help, school desegregation, and increase in the years of free education. But, the Black–White college degree gap has increased since the demise of Jim Crow; this increase is explained by racial wealth differences.