Paid Advertisements:

Advertise on LR

Search


« October 2005 | Main | December 2005 »

A Splinter in Philosophy or just some departments in flux?

In one of the comments threads, Brian Leiter gives voice to a view he has been promulgating for a while about the philosophical community in the United States. As he writes:

 

“there is "agreement over methodology and approach" within particular sub-communities of English-speaking philosophers (e.g., the Princeton-MIT-Rutgers-Arizona-ANU nexus, or the Berkeley-Chicago-Pittsburgh-Harvard nexus, etc.).”

 

“I have it on rather good authority that when members of the Rutgers Department voted several years ago on the philosopher who had had the worst influence on the field, every member of the faculty but one voted for Wittgenstein (one voted for Kant, for rather oddball reasons). Obviously the vote would have been different at Pittsburgh or Berkeley. This might suggest that precisely what there is NOT is "agreement on methodology and approach" among English-speaking philosophers.”

 

I take it Brian is claiming that there are divisions between kinds of philosophy emerging in the United States. I used to think that Brian’s claim was right, and even moderated a discussion about it last time I blogged here. There is, after all, some evidence for Brian’s claim. In areas outside of ethics, the universities that Rutgers competes for graduate students with are Princeton, NYU, MIT, and occasionally Michigan. We don’t compete with Berkeley, Chicago, Pittsburgh (except in phil science), or Harvard (or at least we certainly don’t lose prospective students to them). At an APA last year, I talked with a Harvard-related person who denounced “Rutgers-NYU mainstream metaphysics and epistemology” as shallow for hours. Late at night at APA parties, Pittsburgh graduates will tell MIT graduates that they’re not really deep, and ugly besides.

 

However, in past year, I have changed my mind (essentially coming around to the view that Alva Noe was urging last year). There is a lot of evidence against Brian’s claim. Try as you might, you’re not going to find any differences whatsoever in the kind of work done by Pittsburgh graduates in M&E such as John MacFarlane, Doug Patterson, and Ram Neta, Harvard graduates such as Michael Glanzberg and Stephen Gross, MIT graduates such as Delia Graff, myself, or Zoltan Szabo, and Chicago graduates such as Robin Jeshion. Harvard graduates such as Alva Noe and Chicago graduates such as Jesse Prinz are as naturalistic as Rutgers graduates. MIT graduates such as Richard Heck are as distinguished contributors to the literature on history of analytic philosophy as Ian Proops, the best and most successful of the Harvard history of analytic students. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find even Harvard professors maintaining that the most prominent Rutgers graduates, such as Michael Strevens, are shallow. There is a difference in the kind of personal connections we have to older senior figures, but that’s about it.

[Update: I've been convinced by the comments I've received that my speculations about the source of complaints of the shallowness of "mainstream" M&E were too speculative. So I've replaced them with the following paragraph, since the central purpose of my post was actually supposed to be that I don't see the big difference between two "nexuses" of philosophy among my peers in other departments.]

So what is the source of the so-called "splinter" idea? Well, I suspect it is because Berkeley and Harvard have suffered serious declines after losing so many distinguished faculty to retirement and death. That fact alone is bound to cause some ill-will towards departments that now occupy the status they once did. After all, once upon a time, "mainstream" meant Berkeley and Harvard, and now it doesn't.

Whatever grumbling there is about the evils of mainstream philosophy among certain faculty at those institutions, Berkeley and Harvard’s younger faculty are uniformly excellent mainstream philosophers, who are friends and regular interlocutors with their peers at the leading departments. The most likely scenario is therefore that the two departments will slowly recover past glory, and all this talk about different kinds of philosophy will be forgotten.

The comment thread on this post should be fun...

   
                                                                                        -Jason

Tenure economics

I was thinking about posting this anyway, but it's quite relevant to some of the things Jason says in the post below.   You see the occasional conservative argument that tenure is a corrupt institution designed to give cushy lifetime employment to soft left-wingers who don't want to deal with the rigors of competition.  But most labor economists I think view tenure as a pretty rational market adjustment to the particular circumstances of the academic labor market.  For a couple of reasons.

One is precisely the reason Jason discusses in the post below -- the mixed motives of senior faculty in hiring junior faculty.  Academia is a field where it is very difficult for outsiders to assess quality at the cutting edge, and where (partly for this reason) departments self-govern.  Concretely this means that it is generally senior faculty within a department who are deciding what junior faculty to hire in that department.  If there were no tenure, then senior faculty would in effect be hiring their direct competitors for future employment in the department.  There would be a very strong incentive not to hire people who you felt might become better than you and throw you out of a job.  Therefore tenure makes it possible for the senior faculty to manage the department.  Without that you would have to have some kind of cumbersome and difficult external review process for every new hire.  But note that the difference from Jason's discussion is that the problem is within-department; there's no need to assume that senior people want to blackball junior people within the entire profession.  Within-department is really where incentives for senior people to game the system would become pretty overwhelming without tenure.

There are a couple of other reasons tenure makes economic sense as well.  In most academic fields people are asked to devote many years to learning very specialized knowledge.  There is a very thin market for their services, with often only a few institutions in the world that would pay them for their specialization.  It's reasonable for people to ask for job security in exchange for devoting a lot of time to learning highly specialized knowledge; otherwise they'd essentially be screwed if they lost their jobs.   The alternative would be to pay people very high wages to compensate them for the risk they take in specializing so strongly.  Academic institutions probably couldn't afford the wage premium.  Think about the wages that would be necessary to attract people to spend five years in grad school followed by an uncertain job market if there wasn't the prize of tenure at the end.  Essentially, academic institutions are promising something they feel they can afford to give (freedom and security) in exchange for something many can't afford to give (lots of money). 

Ex ante then, tenure makes a lot of economic sense.  Ex post (once people have received tenure), there may be a moral hazard problem in the sense that some people slack off.  But those costs can well be worth it once you look at the utility of tenure for the institution over the overall academic career.  If tenure didn't exist, we'd probably have to invent it.

By the way, these arguments are strengthened to my mind by the fact that the most decentralized and competitive higher education market in the world (the U.S.) is also the one that makes the most universal use of tenure.

-- Marcus

Tenure and Academic Evaluation

[Full disclosure: I’ve benefited immensely from the current system of evaluating academics]

Evaluating philosophers is fun (indeed, stay tuned this week for my list of ‘top ten most overrated New York Area philosophers’). But I’m increasingly suspicious of the way philosophers are evaluated in the field, and I’m sure my concerns here hold for many other disciplines besides philosophy. Academic evaluation in philosophy (e.g. tenure review) is performed by the most senior members of our profession. The views of the most senior figures carry enormous weight. I guess the natural thought here is that the most senior figures in an area are the most likely reliable and fair minded judges of who among younger participants is doing the best work. But I think there are a lot of reasons to think this natural thought is incorrect.

First, and most obviously, conflict of interest. It is in the interest of the most senior members of the profession to support the careers of those younger scholars who share their views, or at the very least their conception of what is important in the field.  Supporting scholars who disagree with one’s views is dangerous; it may ensure a shorter lifespan for one’s work. Even more clearly, supporting scholars who have an alternative conception of the discipline is an even more reliable way to undermine one’s own interests. A system that expects senior scholars to make objective evaluations of younger scholars that obviously involve conflicts with the older statesperson’s public statements and stated views places an unfair burden on those senior scholars. Finally, and most worryingly, a number of academics possess what one might call “the limited attention space” conception of the field. They think that there is a limited amount of attention in the field, and any attention that is drawn to someone else is attention that is taken away from them. I myself am convinced that the limited attention space conception of the field is incorrect; my work has clearly been made better by engaging directly and openly with the work of many others. But whether it is right or wrong, the limited attention space conception of the field is widely assumed, often tacitly, and sometimes explicitly. If “the underlying dynamic is a struggle over intellectual territory of limited size”, as Randall Collins has maintained (p. 81 of his The Sociology of Philosophies), then the very fact that a younger scholar is particularly promising should lead a rational, self-interested senior figure to try to subvert her career, whether that younger scholar’s work conflicts with the senior figure’s work or not. A system that is predicated on the irrationality of its members is not a very good system.

Secondly (and I’m more hesitant here, since there are many exceptions) it is my experience that (generally) the more senior one becomes, the more one loses contact with (broadly speaking) the profession at large. My peers in the profession and their juniors have quite a good sense not only of what others around their career stage and younger are working on, but also have read a good deal of their work. When I meet a philosopher, if she has published a few articles in Metaphysics and Epistemology, broadly construed, I generally am aware of some paper she has written. But my sense is that this isn’t true of most very eminent philosophers over a certain age (I don’t hit the journals as much as I did three years ago, and I’m just 36). I don’t know what accounts for this, and certainly there are notable exceptions. But by and large, I encounter a lot of very distinguished philosophers who have only a dim sense at one is happening outside their sub-disciplines. Yet these are the people many administrations rely upon to give them a sense of “what is happening” (e.g. it is the most senior philosophers who make up the constituency of visiting committees). In my experience, the best way to find out “what’s happening” in the profession is to ask advanced graduate students.

It seems to me that the system of having the most eminent and distinguished scholars be the gatekeepers for advancement has failed in Europe. In most European countries, a few grand eminences control distribution of the jobs in that country. This has been very good for American academia, because they often choose their students or followers for distinguished chairs rather than the younger scholars doing the most innovative work, and the latter migrate to us. My suspicion is that the American system thrives because it is so large, relative to the systems of individual European countries. If one publishes work that attracts a lot of attention, then even if some senior figures think you are “getting too much attention”, some department will hire you anyway. But that suggests that what is guides advancement in the long run is doing work that attracts a great deal of interest, and the system of evaluation by the most senior members of the profession is only an impediment.

Now, what can be done about it? Obviously, evaluation of philosophers isn’t a science. But I have never encountered people appealing to citation indices in discussing whether to hire someone, or any other kind of measure along that dimension. I am not suggesting that this sort of data should be relied upon in a definitive way. Nothing is a substitute for close reading of work (and for the reasons given above, certainly “getting more letters” from senior figures isn’t either!). But the fact that someone has published a good deal of work, and it has generated a substantive literature among people who are not personally connected to them is a measure of objective evidence of some kind. Since there are good independent reasons to think that high-status academics are going to be particularly resistant to promising younger scholars (whether knowingly or not), we probably should have such evidence available in contexts of evaluation. Of course, one concern here is that the aforementioned measures are not a reliable guide to future productivity, given the short tenure clock. Perhaps this is an argument for extending that clock, then.

                                                                    -Jason

USC offer to Byrne

Alex Byne has been offered a position at the rapidly improving Department of Philosophy at the University of Southern California. So now he has to decide between Boston, Princeton, and Los Angeles. Though I’d love to have him nearby, Alex has been a crucial figure in graduate education at MIT in the last decade, and I’m really pulling for my Alma Mater to retain him (realizing full well that Alex’s chances of getting a film cameo as a philosophy professor are slim to none if he stays in Boston).
                                                                                        -Jason

Catch-all Solutions to Philosophical Problems

I’m now entering my second decade as a professor, and feel like I have amassed enough experience to point out certain trends. I’m not sure if the trends I want to talk about are the “normal science” of philosophy, or if they’ve been particularly noticeable in recent years, as philosophy has gotten more professionalized. What I’ve noticed is that a certain methodology for addressing a philosophical problem will arise in one particular sub-literature, where by “methodology” I mean some kind of quasi-technical mechanism for resolving disputes in any area. Then, that strategy will start to replicate (much like a computer virus); people will apply it to all the other fields where it has not yet been applied. For example, at first fictionalism was advanced to treat the problem of negative existentials; then it was applied by Gideon Rosen to modal metaphysics. In the intervening years, fictionalists have appeared in every discipline (fictionalism about morality, fictionalism about abstract objects, etc.), and in the late 1990s, being on a job-search committee meant wading through endless stacks of papers advocating fictionalism about this or that. Contextualist solutions to philosophical problems arose in a more haphazard way; in philosophical logic, in application to the liar paradox and the sorites paradox, in epistemology to the problem of skepticism. Now, a contextualist solution is part of the standard tool-box of possibilities when faced with an apparent philosophical problem. Now, we’ve got relativism about truth, the idea that the truth of a proposition is relative to an evaluator, and no doubt serving on a junior job search committee will involve wading through stacks of papers applying relativism to this or that apparent dispute.

Over a year ago, Brian Weatherson declared that relativism was going to be a central topic in philosophy in the next decade:

 http://tar.weatherson.net/archives/002685.html

Brian has turned out to be correct. For example, at the Pacific Division of the American Philosophical Association in Portland next year (not the MLA!), there are two invited symposiums on Saturday on relative truth; you can spend all day listening to philosophers dispute the topic. It's like fictionalism five years ago.

Over the years, I’ve written papers or chapters of books criticizing fictionalism, contextualism, and relativism. At each point, I thought there were specific features of the methodology and its applications to which I was reacting (and certainly, each strategy raises different issues). But I’ve realized that I have a uniformly negative reaction to methodologies application of which would resolve a host of apparently distinct philosophical problems. I think there are two sources for this. First, I think the philosophical problems are sufficiently distinct from one another that I’m immediately suspicious of any attempt to resolve several of them by appeal to one mechanism (be it covert fictions, context-sensitivity, or relativism). I could be convinced (though I haven’t been so far) that some traditional philosophical problem (be it future contingents, or skepticism, or the problem of abstracta) is due to our failure to recognize context-sensitivity, or truth-relativity, or that we’ve stumbled unknowingly into a fiction. But I think it is prima facie pretty unlikely that the right account of the sorites paradox will have much to do with the right account of skepticism. Secondly, since the methodologies are usually awfully easy to apply, I worry about how to constrain them. In short, each methodology seems to make philosophy too easy. I’m certainly not saying these worries can’t be answered by advocates of catch-all methodologies. Many of the profession’s very best and most careful philosophers are attracted to them. But I do think there is a special burden, when advocating a catch-all methodological solution to a philosophical problem, to respond to these two worries. 

                                                                                                     -Jason

Waynflete Professorship

My colleague John Hawthorne has been offered the Waynflete Professorship of Metaphysical Philosophy at Oxford. This culminates a series of high-profile offers in recent years that John has declined to stay at Rutgers, including Princeton and Yale. John is from England, so we all realize this will be sorely tempting for him, as will of course the opportunity to join Timothy Williamson as a colleague.

I've known John since 1996, and have followed his work and his career with great interest. I'm certain there are jobs John didn't get basically because his PhD was from Syracuse. So the arc of John's career is a big victory for the possibility of advancement on the basis of merit in philosophy (John started out at the University of New South Wales, then went to Arizona State, then back to Syracuse, then was hired at Rutgers as part of the 'big three' hiring of Hawthorne, Sider, and Zimmerman, and now I guess is contemplating a step down to Oxford). I wonder if there are similar cases of rapid advancement to the top of the profession from a mid-rank graduate program in (say) economics?
                                                                     -Jason

Analytic and Continental

As everyone knows, there is supposed to be a large difference between analytic philosophy and continental philosophy. The problem is of course that nobody has any clear idea of what analytic philosophy and continental philosophy are. We’re all very good at spotting clear instances of analytic philosophy (e.g. anything by David Lewis) and continental philosophy (e.g. anything by Lacan). But it’s very hard to spot any distinction of content between analytic and continental philosophy. For almost every doctrine espoused by continental philosophers, there is some analytic philosopher who has given mind-numbingly dull step-by-step arguments for that conclusion.

Two examples from the most recent literature in philosophy are pragmatic encroachment into knowledge and relativism about truth. According to advocates of pragmatic encroachment (such as myself, John Hawthorne, and Jeremy Fantl and Matthew McGrath), what distinguishes knowledge from true belief is not just a matter of traditionally epistemic factors. One needs to take into account the putative knower’s practical situation as well; I think a similar thesis is true about other epistemic notions. The idea that ordinary epistemic notions are “impure” in this way does not seem like a traditionally analytic conclusion. According to relativists about truth, two people can disagree, and both be correct, since the truth of certain kinds of claims is relative to an evaluator. Both of these theses are ones that are usually associated with figures in the continental tradition (the former perhaps somewhat more Germanic, and the latter somewhat more French). An example from classic literature is skepticism about meaning facts. Different arguments for skepticism about determinate meaning-facts are central to both traditions (e.g. compare Derrida’s Of Grammatology with Chapter 2 of Quine’s Word and Object).

 So if the conclusions don’t distinguish clear instances of analytic philosophy from clear instances of continental philosophy, what does? I am certainly no scholar of continental philosophy. But one hypothesis worth entertaining is that it’s the style in which the philosophy is done which distinguishes it from analytic philosophy, or more precisely, the kind of considerations that are provided (often for very similar conclusions). While an analytic philosopher might give certain arguments for relativism about truth, or the social dimension of rationality, she will do so in such a way as to make vivid her commitment to an inter-subjective standard of rationality or truth according to which her arguments can be judged. In contrast, perhaps continental philosophers (as Marcus suggested to me last night) intend the literary style in which they make their arguments to underscore their view that there is only a spurious distinction between allegedly epistemically pure, truth-tracking disciplines, on the one hand, and literature, on the other.

 
-Jason

The point of my blogging...

Last time we blogged, I was asked by a few people somewhat bemused by what I wrote what message I was trying to communicate by my blogging. I don’t have a message to communicate by my blogging. I’m certainly not blogging because I think I have any brilliant insights (if I think I have a brilliant insight, I try to write a paper or a book). It should be obvious, but I'll say it anyhow: the point of my blogging is to entertain people who are procrastinating.

-Jason

Reminder: the Brothers Stanley...

...philosopher Jason and economist Marcus will be guest-blogging Nov. 28 through Dec. 4!  I'll be back on Dec. 5. 

Enjoy!

Perry on Philosophy and Philosophers

Charming, short essay by John Perry (Philosophy, Stanford); a taste:

[A] thought about this wonderful and interesting group of people, my philosophical colleagues. I have a very distinct memory of arriving at the Eastern Meetings of the American Philosophical Association some years back, when they were held at a hotel in Baltimore. The meetings began just after a National Football League playoff game had been played in that city, and the previous occupants of the hotel seemed to be mainly people connected with this game. Since I was flying from the west coast, and had to attend some meeting or other in the early afternoon of the first day, I arrived the night before most of the other participants. I was able to watch the amazing transformation that took place as the football crowd checked out and the philosophy crowd checked in. The NFL people were large, some very large, most quite good-looking, confident, well-dressed, big-tipping, successful-looking folk; the epitome of what Americans should be, I suppose, according to the dominant ethos. We philosophers were mostly average-sized, mostly clearly identifiable as shabby pedagogues, clutching our luggage to avoid falling into unnecessary tipping situations. We included many bearded men--- some elegant, some scruffy--- all sorts of interesting intellectual looking women; none of the philosophers, not even the big ones and the beautiful ones, were likely to be mistaken for the football players, cheerleaders, sportscasters and others who were checking out. The looks from the hotel staff members, who clearly sensed that they were in for a few days of less expansive tipping and more modest bar-tabs, were a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The talk, as philosophers recognized each other and struck up conversations, was unlike anything that ever had been or would be heard in that hotel lobby: whether there are alternative concrete possible worlds; whether there is anything in Heidegger not better said already by Husserl; whether animals should be eaten; not to mention topics that aroused truly deep passions, mostly related to proper names.

What a wonderful group of people, I thought, and how wonderful, and lucky, that the world has managed to find a niche for us. Even if philosophy had no real intellectual content at all --- was as silly as astrology or numerology certainly are, or as I suspect, in dark moments, that certain other parts of the university are--- it would still be wonderful that it existed, simply to keep these people occupied. Especially me. What would I be doing without this wonderful institution? Helping people in some small town in Nebraska with their taxes and small legal problems, I suppose, and probably not doing it very well.

Friday poem: "I Am Knocking"

I Am Knocking

I am knocking on doors
soliciting knowledge
how elegant English
greets me in silence

I am dancing with words
amazed at my power
wonder of language
I speak only nonsense

I am probing the depths
my limits to fathom
magical voice says
no bottom to bottom

I am wearing a suit
not to be noticed
blessing of charity
anyway naked

I am staying inside
prisoner of conscience
kindly my neighbors
board up the door

I am facing the mirror
to see who I am
munificent fortune
cancels the light

8/24-11/12/96

Copyright 1996 by Maurice Leiter

Posted with permission

Oliver Kamm, Marko Attila Hoare, and the Importance of Being Able to Read

All schoolchildren take note:  one reason it is really important to learn how to read well is because if you don't, you might grow up and make a real ass of yourself in public, and do so repeatedly, all because of inadequate reading skills.  Of course, learning how to read well is no protection against pathological dishonesty.  As to what explains Oliver Kamm--that he can't read or he's a pathological liar--it is really hard to know.

To recap:  The Guardian published a smear piece on Noam Chomsky by a juvenile journalist, one Emma Brockes, which intentionally misrepresented his positions and views; the reader's editor for the publication agreed, apologized to Professor Chomsky, and withdrew the entire interview from the web site, thus acknowledging it for the piece of tabloid trash that it was.  (Will Ms. Brockes drop it from her resume, one wonders?  Or perhaps she'll list it with a parenthetical afterwards explaining "withdrawn by The Guardian because dishonest and incompetent"?)

This has created a conundrum for professional Chomsky-hater Oliver Kamm, who had defended the original smear, and so was suitably humiliated by the fact that the publication in question acknowledged the correctness of the complaints, going so far as to take the remarkable step of removing the interview from its web site.  Mr. Kamm's "response" to this turn of events reads almost as a parody of someone who can't respond on the merits, and so can only flail and posture:

I have devoted much time over the last few days to assessing The Guardian’s correction to Emma Brockes’s interview with Noam Chomsky, and the newspaper's withdrawal of that interview from its site. I’m sorry not to have written more speedily, but necessarily this has been a painstaking exercise. The inquiries are now complete and the evidence is in place. This, in broad terms, is my conclusion.

Instead of stating his conclusion, however, he proceeds to the following:

I have been reading Chomsky for around 25 years, and in that time have read, I believe, every political book he has ever written or (as many of them comprise undemanding ‘interviews’) otherwise produced. I wrote the ‘anti' piece for Prospect magazine’s coverage of its poll for top global intellectual last month...

Curiously, no one had contested Mr. Kamm's credentials as a Chomsky-hater.

But, while counting myself well-informed on his works...

At least Mr. Kamm has one strong supporter!

...I had still not fully appreciated till this past weekend how insubstantial are his objections to the Guardian interview, how tawdry were his interventions on the Balkan wars of the 1990s, and how excessively generous has been my previous assessment of his position.

Still nothing of substance, just an increase in the rhetorical volume.

At this stage, I shall not be setting down in detail the conclusions that I, working with two other writers who have experience of Chomsky’s methods, have come to.  The reason is that we hope our evidence will generate a correction – a real one this time – to The Guardian’s ‘correction’, and the proper course in making that case is to present it in private rather than publish it beforehand.

One plausible translation of this odd display would be as follows:  "Having been publically humiliated by the Guardian's decision, and unable to respond on the merits, I'm hoping enough time will pass so that enough of the public will forget what an untrustworthy buffoon I am and I can go back to smearing Chomsky as though I had some credibility."  Further evidence for this translation of Mr. Kamm's real meaning comes from the concluding line:

This is all I have to say on the matter now in public. Be assured that the case is being worked on in private, and minutely.

As one correspondent put it, this is "a lot of pretentious, pompous, pseudo-forensic windbag tripe."  It's actually not even grown-up:  qua rhetoric, it's an embarrassment.

If we peel away the sophomoric posturing about secret and on-going research etc., there are actually only two substantive points offered by Mr. Kamm, only one of which is actually his own.  The bulk of his substantive "reply" is given over to citing someone else's research, that of Dr. Marko Attila Hoare, a research fellow at Cambridge.  Dr. Hoare, to whom we'll turn in a moment, is also a bit heavy on rhetorical posturing, and also has some rather striking lapses in reading skills, but at least his response has some content (apparently Dr. Hoare was able to complete his secret research in time to share it with the public!).

Let us recall, first, the content of the Guardian's corrections and apologies:

The readers' editor has considered a number of complaints from Noam Chomsky concerning an interview with him by Emma Brockes published in G2, the second section of the Guardian, on October 31. He has found in favour of Professor Chomsky on three significant complaints.

Principal among these was a statement by Ms Brockes that in referring to atrocities committed at Srebrenica during the Bosnian war he had placed the word "massacre" in quotation marks. This suggested, particularly when taken with other comments by Ms Brockes, that Prof Chomsky considered the word inappropriate or that he had denied that there had been a massacre. Prof Chomsky has been obliged to point out that he has never said or believed any such thing. The Guardian has no evidence whatsoever to the contrary and retracts the statement with an unreserved apology to Prof Chomsky.

So, first issue:  Ms. Brockes suggested that Chomsky denied there were "massacres" in Srebrenica.  In fact, there is no evidence of such denials.  Neither Mr. Kamm nor Dr. Hoare produce any such evidence either, as we will see.  Thus, the correction and apology were, by their tacit admission, warranted.  The second major point:

The headline used on the interview, about which Prof Chomsky also complained, added to the misleading impression given by the treatment of the word massacre. It read: Q: Do you regret supporting those who say the Srebrenica massacre was exaggerated? A: My only regret is that I didn't do it strongly enough.

No question in that form was put to Prof Chomsky. This part of the interview related to his support for Diana Johnstone (not Diane as it appeared in the published interview) over the withdrawal of a book in which she discussed the reporting of casualty figures in the war in former Yugoslavia. Both Prof Chomsky and Ms Johnstone, who has also written to the Guardian, have made it clear that Prof Chomsky's support for Ms Johnstone, made in the form of an open letter with other signatories, related entirely to her right to freedom of speech. The Guardian also accepts that and acknowledges that the headline was wrong and unjustified by the text.

So, second issue:  Chomsky never said he regretted not supporting more strongly "those who say the Srebrenica massacre was exaggerated."  He was never asked that question.  Printing answers to questions not asked is generally considered bad journalism.  Neither Mr. Kamm nor Dr. Hoare disputes any of this, and so they tacitly admit that the correction and apology were warranted here as well.

The entire dispute, then, boils down to the second part of the correction quoted above, and in particular The Guardian's statement that, "Both Prof Chomsky and Ms Johnstone, who has also written to the Guardian, have made it clear that Prof Chomsky's support for Ms Johnstone, made in the form of an open letter with other signatories, related entirely to her right to freedom of speech."  Here, now, Mr. Kamm's one substantive point of response to this part of The Guardian's correction:

The Guardian’s correction, written by its readers’ editor, Ian Mayes, states: “Both Prof Chomsky and Ms Johnstone… have made it clear that Prof Chomsky's support for Ms Johnstone, made in the form of an open letter with other signatories, related entirely to her right to freedom of speech.” Mayes states that The Guardian accepts this claim. Yet if you consult Chomsky’s ‘open letter’ to Ordfront in 2003 you find a diferent line. Referring to Serb war crimes, Chomsky states (emphasis added): "Johnstone argues -- and, in fact, clearly demonstrates -- that a good deal of what has been charged has no basis in fact, and much of it is pure fabrication."

Notice, first, that the "open letter" Mr. Kamm references is not the "open letter" The Guardian references, which was a group letter with multiple signatories, not a statement by Chomsky.  The statement by Chomsky to which Mr. Kamm refers is not concerned mainly with Ms. Johnstone's freedom of expression, but with rather odd criticisms of her work (over which Mr. Kamm passes in silence).  That Chomsky believes that Johnstone "clearly demonstrates...that a good deal of what has been charged [with regard to Serbian atrocities] has no basis in fact, and much of it is pure fabrication" doesn't show that he denies that there were either war crimes or massacres; indeed, if one actually reads the statement Mr. Kamm cites, it acknowledges both, and expresses indirectly skepticism only about the charge of genocide (about which more, below).

So while The Guardian may have been correct that the open letter it referenced concerned a defense only of Ms. Johnstone's freedom of expression, the letter Mr. Kamm references shows that, elsewhere, Chomsky has defended Ms. Johnstone on the merits of some of her work.  None of this, quite obviously, has any bearing on the appropriateness of the Guardian's actual correction and apology for the fake question-and-answer.

Remarkably, then, despite all the huffing and puffing about teams of researchers, toiling away in secret, what Mr. Kamm offers up is, to put the matter gently, rather thin, and not actually relevant to the main errors which the Guardian acknowledged. 

In this regard, it was probably wise of Mr. Kamm to cite Dr. Hoare's intervention which, while also rhetorically high-handed, does after many paragraphs finally get to a point of substance:

The big question is, of course, does Chomsky really deny the Srebrenica massacre ? Or, if he does not deny it outright, does he put such a spin on it that he denies it to all intents and purposes ?

To his credit, Dr. Hoare, in his first question, identifies the actual issue.  Alas, his second question constitutes tacit admission as to what the actual answer to the first question is:  no, Chomsky does not "really deny the Srebrenica massacre"--for if he did, evidence of the denial would be quoted, instead of having to settle for the suspicious "all intents and purposes" denial--which, by the law of the excluded middle, isn't a denial.

It turns out, though, that Dr. Hoare can't even saddle Chomsky with the "all intents and purposes denial," so he quickly switches gears to pursue Ms. Johnstone; on this, he bears quoting at some length:

Johnstone, for her part, denies it [the massacre] to all intents and purposes. Her book, Fools’ Crusade: Yugoslavia, NATO and Western Delusions (London: Pluto Press, 2002) puts the words ‘Srebrenica massacre’ in quotes (p. 106). She then goes on to argue: ‘In trying to understand what happened at Srebrenica, a number of factors should be taken into account.’ These are, she argues, that Srebrenica and other ‘safe areas’ had ‘served as Muslim military bases under UN protection’; that the ‘Muslim military force stationed in Srebrenica - some 5,000 men under the command of Naser Oric, had carried out murderous raids against nearby Serb villages’; that ‘[Bosnian President] Izetbegovic pulled Naser Oric out of Srebrenica prior to the anticipated Serb offensive, deliberately leaving the enclave undefended’; and that ‘Insofar as Muslims were actually executed following the fall of Srebrenica, such crimes bear all the signs of spontaneous acts of revenge rather than a project of ‘genocide’'. Furthermore: ‘Six years after the summer of 1995, ICTY forensic teams had exhumed 2,631 bodies in the region, and identified fewer than 50. In an area where fighting had raged for years, some of the bodies were certainly of Serbs as well as of Muslims. Of these bodies, 199 were found to have been bound or blindfolded, and must reasonably be presumed on the basis of the material evidence to have been executed.’ She concludes: ‘War crimes ? The Serbs themselves do not deny that crimes were committed. Part of a plan of genocide ? For this there is no evidence whatsoever.’ (pp. 109-118).

I have not read Ms. Johnstone's book, but for purposes of argument, I am willing to grant that Dr. Hoare's characterization of it through selected quotations is accurate.  Now look at how Dr. Hoare characterizes in his own words the material he has just quoted:

To sum up Johnstone’s position on Srebrenica: she blames everything that happened there on the Muslims; claims they provoked the Serb offensive in the first place; then deliberately engineered their own killing; and then exaggerated their own death-toll. She denies that thousands of Muslims were massacred; suggesting there is no evidence for a number higher than 199 - less than 2.5% of the accepted figure of eight thousand. And she eschews the word 'massacre' in favour of 'execution' - as if it were a question of criminals on Death Row, not of innocent civilians.

This is a quite extraordinary recasting of the claims actually quoted.  About the only bit of Dr. Hoare's reading that seems accurate on the evidence he himself adduces is that Ms. Johnstone "denies that thousands of Muslims were massacred":  this is not a denial of massacres, just a denial of their scale.  But even the denial of scale is nothing like Dr. Hoare's rendering:  the passage Dr. Hoare quotes has Ms. Johnstone claiming that 199 of more than 2,600 bodies found showed signs of execution; for no discernible reason, Dr. Hoare translates this to mean that Ms. Johnstone believes only 199 people were massacred, not 8,000.  But unless Ms. Johnstone's view is that only those blindfolded and tied were victims of massacre, and unless her view is that none of the other 2,400+ corpses were victims of massacres, then Dr. Hoare's translation has no merit.  No evidence, however, is adduced to support ascribing either of these views to Ms. Johnstone.  So, too, calling wartime killings by victors "executions" is a perfectly familiar usage (unjust and extralegal executions are still executions); the quotes do not show that Ms. Johnstone's blames "everything" (or even most things) on the Muslims; and so on.

Perhaps Ms. Johnstone's interpretation of events is woefully inadequate, but Dr. Hoare's selective quotation doesn't show Ms. Johnstone to be making the claims with which Dr. Hoare saddles her.  Presumably if she were making such claims, Dr. Hoare would have quoted clear evidence to that effect, instead of a string of quotes which require massive supplementation by Dr. Hoare to constitute the narrative he describes. 

What Dr. Hoare fails to mention is the most natural reading of the remarks he quotes (see especially the final quote from Johnstone):  namely, that Ms. Johnstone acknowledges war crimes by the Serbs, but denies that they constitute "genocide," a term that has an actual meaning in international law:

any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, as such:

So, again, going entirely on the material Dr. Hoare actually quotes, Ms. Johnstone's argument comes to this:  there were killings in Srebenica and Serbian war crimes, but they did not rise to the level of genocide because they were not "committed with intention to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, as such," that is, because of their nationality, ethnicity, race or religion.  None of this involves denying that there were massacres, since not every massacre is a case of genocide.  (Whether it was genocide matters, I take it, for other reasons, both pertaining to international law and to the justifications for military intervention given by the U.S. and NATO at the time.)

Dr. Hoare is a specialist in the history of Yugoslavia, and I am not; it is for him and other experts to assess whether Ms. Johnstone's hypothesis about the absence of genocide has any merit.  (The International Criminal Tribunal reached a different conclusion.  And for a different view of Ms. Johnstone's book, see this scholar's assessment, which, while critical, does not raise as objections the issues on which Dr. Hoare focuses, suggesting that he has, indeed, misrepresented the work.)  But he has not shown, in the materials he himself quotes, that she has denied that there were killings and war crimes; she admits that there were (at least based on what Dr. Hoare quotes), but denies they were genocide.

Since, on Dr. Hoare's correct rendering, the only relevant issue is denial--or "all intents and purposes denial"--of massacre (not genocide), then Dr. Hoare's evidence fails to support the charge as to Ms. Johnstone.

Since the rest of Dr. Hoare's "argument" (and now I use the term very loosely) is to show that Chomsky endorses Ms. Johnstone's denial of massacre--a denial which depends on Dr. Hoare's odd misreading of the evidence he quotes--the "argument," even if successful, would still be irrelevant to showing that Chomsky denies that there was a massacare in Srebenica, since Dr. Hoare's reading of Ms. Johnstone is not persuasive.  But even if Ms. Johnstone did deny the killings, Dr. Hoare's "argument" would still be dreadful.  Here is what Dr. Hoare writes:

An open letter to Ordfront, signed by Chomsky, Tariq Ali, Arundhati Roy and others, stated: 'We regard Johnstone's Fools' Crusade as an outstanding work, dissenting from the mainstream view but doing so by an appeal to fact and reason, in a great tradition.' In his personal letter to Ordfront in defence of Johnstone, Chomsky wrote: ‘I have known her for many years, have read the book, and feel that it is quite serious and important.’ Chomsky makes no criticism here of Johnstone’s massacre denial, or indeed anywhere else - except in the Brockes interview, which he has repudiated. Indeed, he endorses her revisionism: in response to Mikael van Reis's claim that 'She [Johnstone] insists that Serb atrocities - ethnic cleansing, torture camps, mass executions - are western propaganda', Chomsky replies that 'Johnstone argues - and, in fact, clearly demonstrates - that a good deal of what has been charged has no basis in fact, and much of it is pure fabrication.'

Books can be "serious and important" and based on "fact and reason" without being correct in all particulars.  That Chomsky has a favorable opinion of Ms. Johnstone's book would not show that he denied a Srebenica massacre, even if Ms. Johnstone's book defended that thesis.  The juxtaposition of the Chomsky quote, to which Mr. Kamm also called attention, with van Reis's claim is Dr. Hoare's doing (read the Chomsky statement yourself--the two quotes are paragraphs apart).  What we said above remains the case:  that Chomsky believes that Johnstone "clearly demonstrates...that a good deal of what has been charged [with regard to Serbian atrocities] has no basis in fact, and much of it is pure fabrication" doesn't show that he denies that there were either war crimes or massacres:  much can be fabrication, while some remains absolutely true.  Indeed, if one actually reads Chomsky's statement, it acknowledges both war crimes and massacres, and expresses indirectly skepticism only about the charge of genocide (as apparently Ms. Johnstone does directly).

Rest assured, dear readers, that I do not intend to pursue this matter further.  Mr. Kamm and Dr. Hoare are interesting only as symptoms of certain kinds of intellectual corruption, of which responses to Noam Chomsky (though not only him) often partake.  As I said in an earlier posting on the subject of Chomsky-haters:

Here's what puzzles me about all this. There's plenty to quarrel with Chomsky about (though at least he's worth quarreling with!). One could reasonably say, "I think Chomsky is wrong about X," or "The evidence really doesn't support Chomsky's claim about Y," and so on. But...Chomsky haters...aren't content with engaging Chomsky in argument: they have to establish that he is beyond the pale, that he is intellectually corrupt and dishonest, that it is no longer necessary to take him seriously.

Don't get me wrong--there are plenty of folks who are beyond the pale and intellectually corrupt and dishonest: Donald Luskin, David Horowitz, legions of right-wing dopes in the blogosphere, almost anyone at the Discovery [sic] Institute, all come to mind. Chomsky just isn't one of them, indeed, isn't even close, isn't even on the same planet as these pathological liars and noxious mediocrities.

Why would an intelligent person, even one who disagrees with Chomsky, believe otherwise?

In the case of Mr. Kamm, of course, the answer may be simple:  he may just be dumb.  (There is, I fear, not much on his web site to dissuade one from that interpretation.)  In the case of more learned people, such as Dr. Hoare, one suspects the explanation becomes more complex:  disciplinary territoriality; personal and emotional investment in the issues; ulterior political agendas--all these, and perhaps more, may play some role.

I'll end on an amusing note, by quoting an e-mail from one Andrew Anthony, who apparently is a devoted reader of Mr. Kamm; Mr. Anthony responded to my earlier posting as follows:

Just to check. When you say that you hope Emma Brockes 'will now find a new profession, where she can conduct herself honourably', I take it that you are not satisfied with the results of the campaign against her. Apparently, it's not enough that Chomsky's supporters have gained an apology and retraction and removal of the piece from the website.  For daring to suggest there may be flaws in Chomsky's methodology – and, let's be honest, Chomsky did not just support Diana Johnstone's right to freedom of speech, he wrote 'Johnstone argues -- and, in fact, clearly demonstrates -- that a good deal of what has been charged has no basis in fact, and much of it is pure fabrication' – she should also lose her job. Fair enough,  but please spare us the self-righteous guff about defending the freedom of expression. Chomsky had received pretty close to unbroken and unquestioning approval from the Guardian over
many  years. A journalist breaks ranks with orthodoxy and so she should pay with her career? Oh please! Stop pretending that you care about freedom of speech. Diana Johnstone downgraded Europe's greatest massacre in 50 years to just another wartime incident much like any other, whereas Emma Brockes embarrassed an anti-capitalist into admitting that he had a share portfolio (which his wife takes care of!). The former demands your support in the name of freedom of speech, while the latter deserves to lose her job. Give me a break.

My initial thought was that this somewhat arational ramble must be from a personal friend of Ms. Brockes--and thus strong emotions explained the incoherence--though Mr. Anthony denied that.  My original posting said nothing about Ms. Johnstone; nothing about freedom of expression; nothing about firing Ms. Brockes (she ought to find an honest line of work, to be sure, but that's her decision):  talk about inability to read!  (And the relevance of Chomsky having a retirement portfolio is....?)  The Guardian withdrew Ms. Brockes's "interview" because it was a shoddy and dishonest piece of work; we have now explained at some length why it was, indeed, a shoddy and dishonest piece of work, notwithstanding the sommersaults of the Chomsky-haters.  Perhaps Ms. Brockes, having now been publically humiliated with the total repudiation of her work in this case, will do better in the future; or perhaps she will find a different profession, where she can conduct herself more honorably.  As to Mr. Anthony:  bonne chance!

UPDATE:  Pablo Stafforini tells me he sent the following apt e-mail to Dr. Hoare:

In your recent piece on Noam Chomsky (‘Chomsky’s Srebrenica’s Shame—and the Guardian’s’) you claim that you “have not yet discovered a single text on the internet in which Chomsky uses the word 'massacre' in relation to Srebrenica; if such a text exists, it is not as easy to find as Chomsky claims.” 

Here’s a relevant sample of Chomsky’s remarks on Srebrenica:

“[There was a] Dutch government inquiry into the Srebrenica massacre[.]”

‘Terror and Just Response’, ZNet, July 2, 2002; Radical Priorities, third edition, Oakland: AK Press, 2003, p. 312; Hegemony or Survival: America’s Quest for Global Dominance, New York: Metropolitan Books, 2003, p. 208 [emphasis added]

“[T]he U.S. also gave a green light to the Serb attack on Srebrenica, which lead to the slaughter of 7000 people, as part of a broader plan of population exchange. The US did “nothing to prevent” the attack though it was aware of Serb preparations for it, and then used Srebrenica massacre “to distract attention from the exodus of Krajina’s entire population which was then taking place.””

The New Military Humanism: Lessons from Kosovo, London: Pluto Press, 1999, p. 32 [emphasis added] 

“Consider […] Iranian offers to intervene in Bosnia to prevent massacres at a time when the West would not do so. These were dismissed with ridicule (in fact, generally ignored), even though they might well have protected Muslims from slaughter at Srebrenica and elsewhere.”

The New Military Humanism, p. 74 [emphasis added]

All these references can be found on the Internet, and easily so. They also “state categorically that the massacre occurred in the way that it is understood to have done: as a massacre of several thousand innocent Muslim civilians by Serb forces.” Are you, then, going to publicly retract your remarks? This, I presume, will be an easy thing to do, since yours is an online piece which, as such, can be readily corrected.

"The Fourth Circuit is a Constitution-free zone"

Jack Balkin (Law, Yale) on the government's decision to finally charge Jose Padilla--the American citizen spirited away to a military brig three years ago by order of the Dear Leader--is illuminating:

Today the U.S. government formally indicted Jose Padilla, an American citizen arrested in the United States who had been held as an enemy combatant for three years outside the reach of the criminal justice system.

Originally the Justice Department claimed that Padilla had planned to detonate a "dirty bomb" (i.e., one that would explode radioactive nuclear waste) in the United States. Later the Justice Department changed that to an allegation that he planned to set fire to (or blow up) an apartment building in Chicago. In today's indictment, the Justice Department alleges neither act; instead it claims that Padilla had traveled abroad to become "a violent jihadist" and that he had conspired to send "money, physical assets and new recruits" overseas to engage in acts of terrorism."

This is a pattern, of course, with these arrests:  spectacular charges are announced, but when real charges are filed, the spectacular allegations disappear.

The reason [for the criminal indictment after three years] is not difficult to discover. The Administration counted votes and figured that even with a replacement for Justice O'Connor, it would likely lose in the Supreme Court. (The four dissenters in Rumsfeld v. Padilla thought Padilla was unconstitutionally confined, while Justice Scalia, who joined the majority, made clear that the September 18, 2001 Authorization for the Use of Military Force did not justify detaining a U.S. citizen, because the AUMF was not a legitimate suspension of the writ of habeas corpus).

By indicting Padilla now, The Bush Administration moots Padilla's appeal to the Supreme Court. It also leaves standing the Fourth Circuit's decision in the Padilla case, which broadly upheld the President's power to detain U.S. citizens like Padilla as unlawful combatants. (See Marty Lederman's post here for an analysis).

That result is particularly worthy of note, for the Fourth Circuit opinion may yet come in handy if the Administration needs to hold another U.S. citizen within the geographical boundaries of that circuit. The Administration now knows that the Fourth Circuit is a Constitution-free zone. It can, if it needs to, declare someone an enemy combantant, thrown them into a military prison, and interrogate them at its leisure. It will take years for a citizen to exhaust his appeals and reach the Supreme Court; and when the citizen finally gets to the Supreme Court, the Administration has the option to indict and moot the case (as it did with Padilla) or, if the Court's personnel have changed sufficiently in the interim, risk an appeal to the Supremes.

You may recall that, following the Hamdi decision last year, the Administration decided not to give Yaser Hamdi a hearing, but instead released Hamdi to Saudi Arabia, extracting in return a surrender of Hamdi's U.S. Citizenship and a promise that he would not sue. Now it has indicted Padilla to avoid facing a simliar rebuff by the U.S. Supreme Court. In both cases, the Administration argued that that it was of the utmost necessity to detain them indefinitely and that it could not give these men the constitutional protections ordinarily afforded criminal defendants without severely damaging national security. These assertions now ring hollow-- Hamdi is free, and Padilla is in the criminal justice system.

The Padilla case is a sobering lesson in how much leeway the President has to imprison and detain people for long periods of time in violation of the Constitution.

He has this leeway, of course, only because of the combination of cowardice, dishonesty, and/or villainy on the part of some judges (all "conservatives" mind you) in some jurisdictions, most dramatically, in the Fourth Circuit, where, as we noted long ago, the rule of law does not exist at the most fundamental levels.

The fact that the government's story about why Padilla was a threat has changed so frequently should give us pause the next time the government asserts that we should trust it when it rounds up U.S. citizens and claims the right to hold them indefinitely for our protection. Padilla may well be a very bad fellow, but we have a method of dealing with such bad fellows. It is called the rule of law, and we should not surrender it so readily merely because the President desires it.

New Philosophers' Carnival is...

...here.

The Coming War on Iran?

Let us hope this analysis is mistaken.  Alas, we've had to consider this topic before.

Goebbels Had Nothing on These Guys...or the Latest in Bush Rationalizations for War and Tyranny

I suppose I should comment on Bush's attempt last week to rationalize his war crimes and impeachable offenses, though it is hard to know what to say.  That people didn't burst into laughter while listening to this audacious tissue of lies, half-truths, and fantastic allegations is, itself, rather remarkable, and indicative of the extent to which people who are no doubt often "decent" in their daily lives can be coopted for world-historic malfeasance through some combination of ignorance and wishful thinking.  The Progressive Blog Digest has a useful round-up of commentary, most of it appropriately scathing.  You can't really get the full flavor, though, for how unhinged a large segment of the United States has become until you take a look at the laudatory remarks Bush's through-the-looking-glass speech also attracted.  The problem isn't just that Bush & his bestiary of madmen are liars and villains; it's that they win praise from tens of millions for being "honest" and "just."

I am particularly taken with the latest rhetorical ploy of Bush & co., namely, the use of the word "revisionism" to describe their opponents' version of events leading up to the aggression against Iraq.  This is perversely ironic on at least two levels:  first, of course, because this Administration doesn't just "revise" history, it invents it wholesale; and second, because real historical revionists are motivated by a concern for evidence and truth, whereas both Bush and his Democratic critics (especially all those Democrat war-mongers who voted for war and tyranny) are motivated by short-term strategic advantage.

By way of illustration of the generally unhinged condition of political discourse in America, I shall focus on just a few passages from Bush's speech.  Bush stated:

In the four years since September the 11th, the evil that reached our shores has reappeared on other days in other places -- in Mombasa and Casablanca and Riyadh and Jakarta and Istanbul and Madrid and Beslan and Taba and Netanya and Baghdad and elsewhere.

The central delusion that has gripped the American right since 9/11 is that captured in this litany of unrelated places:  it is the idea that every terrorist incident is related to every other one, that the grievances of Chechen separatists have something to do with the grievances of Palestinian suicide bombers which have something to do with Sunni resistance to the U.S. occupation of Iraq which has something to do with the murderous delusions of religious fundamentalists actually beholden to Osama bin Laden.  But these events have almost nothing to do with each other (as we have had occasion to remark previously), except that they serve the propaganda purposes of a decadent and amoral empire. One really can't repeat this often enough:  there is no "war on terror," not only because you can't wage war on a technique, but because there is no single agent of terrorism motivated by a unitary set of concerns.  The whole "war on terror" is a fraud, and anyone who speaks of such a fake war should be laughed out of serious society.  If America had not lost its collective mind after 9/11, there would now be only an international criminal manhunt for bin Laden and other perpetrators of crimes against civilians in New York and London and Madrid (etc.).

Bush admits, effectively, that the "enemy" here is a construct worthy of Tolkein when he states:

Islamic radicalism is more like a loose network with many branches than an army under a single command.

Just like the international Jewish banking conspiracy, apparently.

Yet these operatives fighting on scattered battlefields share a similar ideology and vision for our world.

In fact, of course, Chechen separatists, Palestinian suicide bombers, Iraqi Sunni rebels, and actual bin Laden loyalists do not share a similar ideology, but no matter, let the fiction continue:

First, these extremists want to end American and Western influence in the broader Middle East, because we stand for democracy and peace, and stand in the way of their ambitions.

It is true that some of the "extremists want to end American and Western influence in the broader Middle East," but obviously not because the U.S. has supported "democracy and peace" in the region (I assume this was supposed to be a laugh line), but largely because it has supported compliant regimes, from the largely democratic (like Israel) to the largely totalitarian and fascist (like Saudi Arabia or Iraq in the 1980s), without any regard for human rights, democracy, or peace, as opposed to the strategic economic and military interests of the U.S.  (I say "largely" only because it seems equally clear that bin Laden is also, by his own admission, motivated by bizarre sectarian concerns, like the proximity of "infidels" to holy places in Saudi Arabia.)    

Secondly, the militant network wants to use the vacuum created by an American retreat to gain control of a country, a base from which to launch attacks and conduct their war against non-radical Muslim governments.

This may accurately describe bin Laden's personal ambitions, but the delusions of men hiding in caves should not, generally, be a sound basis for foreign policy.

Third, these militants believe that controlling one country will rally the Muslim masses, enabling them to overthrow all modern governments in the region and establish a radical Islamic empire that spans from Spain to Indonesia.

Bin Laden is a delusional religious fanatic, to be sure (surely Bush knows the "type"), but even he hasn't set his sights on Islamic revolution in Spain!  (Again:  perhaps this was meant as a laugh line.)

With the greater economic and military and political power they seek, the terrorists would be able to advance their stated agenda -- to develop weapons of mass destruction, to destroy Israel, to intimidate Europe, to assault the American people and to blackmail our government into isolation.

There is no doubt that there are hundreds of millions of people around the globe--most, to be sure, under the age of seven--who entertain fantasies of unlimited power over all their adversaries, from their parents to their neighbors to their distant enemies:  part of grown-up leadership is to assess which of these fantasies of power are actually realistic. 

Some might be tempted to dismiss these goals as fanatical or extreme. They are fanatical and extreme, but they should not be dismissed. Our enemy is utterly committed. As Zarqawi has vowed: We will either achieve victory over the human race or we will pass to the eternal life. And a civilized world knows very well that other fanatics in history -- from Hitler to Stalin to Pol Pot -- consumed whole nations in war and genocide before leaving the stage of history.

Continue reading "Goebbels Had Nothing on These Guys...or the Latest in Bush Rationalizations for War and Tyranny" »

Where Tenure-Track Faculty at the Top 20 U.S. Departments 2005-06 Got Their PhD,

We haven't compiled this data in awhile.  For purposes of this list, the “top 20” graduate faculties surveyed were NYU, Princeton, Rutgers, Michigan, Pittsburgh (both philosophy and HPS), Stanford, MIT, Harvard, Columbia, UCLA, Texas, Cornell, Berkeley, North Carolina, Notre Dame, Arizona, Brown, UC Irvine, UC San Diego, Chicago, and CUNY.  Bear in mind, of course, that today’s tenure-track faculty were choosing where to go to graduate school anywhere from six to fifteen years ago.

Here are the schools that produced the most graduates who landed tenure-stream jobs at top 20 graduate programs (those already denied tenure are excluded):

Princeton University (11 graduates placed at Arizona, Chicago, Michigan, MIT, North Carolina, Notre Dame, Pittsburgh, and Princeton)

Harvard University (8 graduates placed at Barnard/Columbia, NYU, Princeton, Stanford, UC Irvine, and UCLA)

Massachussetts Institute of Technology (7 graduates placed at Cornell, Harvard, Michigan, MIT, NYU, and Princeton)

University of Pittsburgh (Philosophy and HPS) (6 graduates placed at Chicago, Harvard, North Carolina, and UCLA)

Oxford University (5 graduates placed at Columbia, Notre Dame, Pittsburgh, Princeton, and UCLA)

Rutgers University, New Brunswick (3 graduates placed at Brown, Barnard/Columbia, and UC Irvine)

University of California, Berkeley (3 graduates placed at Berkeley and Chicago)

University of Michigan, Ann Arbor (3 graduates placed at Princeton and Stanford)

Yale University (3 graduates placed at Chicago, Cornell, and Princeton)

Columbia University (2 graduates placed at Michigan and Notre Dame)

New York University (2 graduates placed at Brown and Texas)

University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill (2 graduates placed at Arizona and Columbia)

There was one graduate each from the following PhD programs (with the name of the school where the graduate was placed following in the parentheses):

Brown University (Arizona)

Carnegie-Mellon University (Columbia)

Cornell University (Harvard)

King's College, London (Harvard)

Ohio State University (UCLA)

Stanford University (North Carolina)

University of Arizona (Michigan)

University of California, Irvine (Harvard)

University of California, Los Angeles (UC Irvine)

University of Chicago (Arizona)

University of Colorado, Boulder (UC Irvine)

University of Paris (Pittsburgh)

University of Texas, Austin (NYU)

University of Wisconsin, Madison (Berkeley)

Campaign to Save California Death Row Inmate Tookie Williams

Philosopher Philip Gasper has the pertinent details here and here.

Nietzsche Studies: Where the Action Is

When I last wrote about Nietzsche studies, it was to grouse about some unhappy developments; here I want to write more constructively and also to inaugurate an on-going series on different areas of philosophy, where I'll invite different philosophers to address "where the action is" in their subfield. 

Last week, I was talking with one of the University of London graduate students participating in the Gemes/Leiter "intercollegiate" seminar on Nietzsche about what kind of work was worth doing in Nietzsche studies.  Nietzsche studies in English-speaking philosophy have really flourished over the last 15 years (Clark's book, below, probably marks the turning point), and while there (alas!) continues to be an enormous amount of sophomoric garbage written about Nietzsche, there has emerged, for the first time, a secondary literature on Nietzsche that compares favorably in scholarly seriousness and philosophical quality, with the best work on Kant or Hegel or Marx.  While the complete "professionalization" of the discipline of philosophy means that there is now some demand for specialist work on just about any figure in the history of philosophy, quite independent of his merits, in the case of Nietzsche there is an increasing recognition, both inside and outside the realm of specialists in post-Kantian German philosophy, that Nietzsche may really be the philosophical thinker of significance after Kant, and certainly one with at least as much resonance to themes in English-speaking philosophy as Hegel or Heidegger.

So, to return to my discussion with the postgraduate student mentioned above, the question arises what should someone thinking of doing doctoral research on Nietzsche pursue?   Where, today, is the "action" in Nietzsche studies:  what needs to be done?  (A somewhat dated discussion of this topic is here.) 

It seems to me there are now three lively and fruitful areas of philosophical research and writing about Nietzsche:  (1) studies of the historical context in which Nietzsche was writing attending, in particular, to the historical influences operative on him--work that demands both command of Nietzsche and command of the relevant portions of the history of philosophy; (2) close, philosophically-minded readings of particulars books by Nietzsche; and (3) philosophical studies of particular topics or themes of significance in Nietzsche:  his moral philosophy, his theory of mind or action, his metaphysics or epistemology.  What has fallen very much out of favor, it seems to me, are the "global" studies of Nietzsche, which attempt to canvass all his famous (if not most important) themes, like will to power, the overman, and eternal recurrence--though, to be sure, there are honorable, and important, exceptions that discharge this ambitious task admirably, such as John Richardon's Nietzsche's System (Oxford, 1996) and Bernard Reginster's The Affirmation of Life:  Nietzsche on Overcoming Nihilism (Harvard, forthcoming).

Historical studies aim to illuminate Nietzsche's ideas and arguments by shedding light on the historical context in which he wrote:  the intellectual currents of his time, the particular authors he was reading, the philosophers who mattered most to him.  Examples of such studies in recent years include:  Christopher Janaway's edited collection on Willing and Nothingness: Schopenhauer as Nietzsche's Educator (Oxford, 1998); Gregory Moore's Nietzsche, Biology and Metaphor (Cambridge, 2002); Michael Green's Nietzsche and the Transcendental Tradition (Illinois, 2002); in some respects, John Richardson's Nietzsche's New Darwinism (Oxford, 2004) (though this also develops the ambitious, systematic account of Nietzsche's philosophy from his earlier book [UPDATE:  see Jessica Berry's illuminating review of the Richardson book]); Robin Small's Nietzsche and Ree:  A Start Friendship (Oxford, 2005); Lanier Anderson's and Nadeem Hussain's articles on the influence of NeoKantianism and positivism on Nietzsche; Jessica Berry's and Richard Bett's articles on Nietzsche and ancient skepticism; and, in more modest forms, the portions dealing with Schopenhauer of Reginster's The Affirmation of Life (Harvard, forthcoming); the portions dealing with Plato in Richardson's Nietzsche's System (Oxford, 1996); and Chapter 2 of my Nietzsche on Morality (Routledge, 2002) surveying the impact of the Presocratics, Schopenhauer, and German Materialism on Nietzsche.  This work, to be sure, varies a bit in its philosophical sophistication and competence, but even where this is obviously lacking (as in Moore's book), the historical erudition still provides rich material for the philosophically-minded reader of Nietzsche.

Textual studies aim to elucidate the philosophical structure and arguments of the books Nietzsche actually published.  These kinds of projects are probably least suitable for doctoral students, though they increasingly attract the attention of accomplished scholars, and some of the best studies of this kind are still to appear, such as Maudemarie Clark and David Dudrick's book on Beyond Good and Evil and Christopher Janaway's book on On the Genealogy of Morality.  Earlier examples tend to focus mainly on the Genealogy, such as Mathias Risse's articles, and the relevant sections of my Nietzsche on Morality (Routledge, 2002) and Simon May's Nietzsche's Ethics and his 'War on Morality' (Oxford, 1999).

Philosophical/thematic studies treat Nietzsche as the philosopher he really is, and explore, and evaluate, his views with respect to particular issues in moral philosophy, metaphysics, epistemology, and philosophy of mind and action.  Such studies demand both knowledge of Nietzsche and knowledge of the relevant philosophy, and thus mark the most important respect in which Nietzsche has now joined the canon of important historical figures in the history of philosophy.  The watershed work was probably Maudemarie Clark's Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy (Cambridge, 1990), which was followed by Lester Hunt's Nietzsche and the Origin of Virtues (Routledge, 1991), Peter Poellner's Nietzsche and Metaphysics (Oxford, 1995); my own Nietzsche on Morality (Routledge, 2002); and many articles by Mathias Risse, Nadeem Hussain, Bernard Williams, Ken Gemes, Raymond Geuss, Paul Katsafanas, and others (European Journal of Philosophy has published many of these papers).  Neil Sinhababu and I have tried to collect a set of new papers of this kind in Nietzsche and Morality (Oxford, 2006) (with contributions by myself and Sinhababu, as well as Clark & Dudrick, Janaway, Risse, Hussain, Reginster, Poellner, Thomas Hurka, Simon Blackburn, Joshua Knobe, Jay Wallace, and Donald Rutherford).   Some of the most lively, recent philosophical debates have concerned, on the one hand, Nietzsche's moral psychology, and, on the other, his philosophy of mind and action (his critique of free will, his account of agency, his understanding of consciousness).

I'd be interested to hear how specialists and doctoral students perceive the field.  Comments are open; no anonymous postings and bear in mind that comments may take awhile to appear, so post only once!

Friday Poem: "Becalmed"

Becalmed

Night descends on whining knees
The reckless children roam below
Fearless as ants though less purposeful
Prolonging their giddy play in
An epiphany of youth and death

A purple wine upon the shallow hills
Historic Hudson nuzzling by the land
Becalmed in Tarrytown as I too am
Seeking music’s absolution for my silence
Bach’s thirty variations on a smile
My sole companions in retreat
I know my life is incomplete

Elsewhere when I choose to listen
The wounded howl the hungry moan
In tongues I dare not understand
I feel their plight but not their grief
Instead guilt nestles close at hand
I call it my inheritance
Here in my safe encampment
Powerless and exempt

What would it take to fire my blood
Now slow as doubt and coursing cold
How might I raise refusal to an art
And learn to cast denial out

But here the blinds are neatly shut
And I in fictive consolations bound
Nightly dally with my electric slut
Who strokes my twitching conscience

I have heard the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs
Music for an age of discontent
Which spends its failing hours
Divining what the god of evil meant
I fear it is beyond my ken
Not how my last days are bent

Oh old young now then
Sad happy women men
Whom I must touch before I die
No music can redeem me

1/6-7/9/95, 12/15-12/16/95, 4/8/98, 6/11/98, 7/12/98, 8/9-8/10/98, 6/23/00


Copyright 1995, 1998, 2000 by Maurice Leiter

Posted with permission.

The Prerequisites for Tyranny: Torture and the Elimination fo Habeas Corpus

This makes the Republicans, of course, the party of tyranny:

Habeas corpus prevents authorities from detaining a person indefinitely without charges; the guarantee of habeas corpus ensures that no one can imprison you without a trial.

The Bush administration wants the power to detain indefinitely anyone it declares to be an enemy combatant or a terrorist without presenting the detainee in court with charges. In England the power to arrest people and to hold them indefinitely without charges was taken away from kings centuries ago. Bush apparently thinks he is the reincarnation of an absolute monarch.

[Bush's] puppet [Tony] Blair set to work. He soon discovered that at most he could try to pass a law that permitted the British government to hold a detainee for 90 days, a far cry from Bush's desire for indefinite detention. Blair took what he called his "anti-terror" legislation to Parliament and was handed his first-ever defeat as Prime Minister.

The British Parliament knew enough history to realize that Blair's "anti-terror" legislation was in fact the opposite. Parliamentarians perceived Blair's proposal as a police state trick that could be used by an unscrupulous government to terrorize Her Majesty's subjects by the use of imprisonment without charges. The British Parliament refused to put up with such injustice....

That happened on Wednesday November 9.

On Thursday November 10, the Republican controlled US Senate voted 49 to 42 to overturn the US Supreme Court's 2004 ruling that permits Guantanamo detainees to challenge their detentions....

The Labour Party dominated British Parliament will not allow 90 days detention without charges, but the Republican controlled US Congress favors indefinite detention without charges of whomever Bush wants to detain.

Nothing more effectively undercuts the image that Bush paints of America as the land of freedom, liberty and democracy than the Republican Party's destruction of habeas corpus.

Habeas corpus is essential to political opposition and the rise and maintenance of democracy. Without habeas corpus, a government can simply detain its opponents. Nothing is more conducive to one party rule than the suspension of habeas corpus....

The Bush administration has also resurrected that second great feature of tyranny--torture. We have the right to torture say President Bush, Vice President Cheney, and Attorney General Gonzales.

What a hypocritical spectacle the Bush administration and the Republican Party have made of America. They boast of "freedom and democracy" while they destroy habeas corpus and practice torture....

According to the Washington Post (Nov. 11), there are 750 detainees at Guantanamo. These people have been held for 3 or 4 years. If the Bush administration had any evidence against them, it would be a simple matter to file charges.

But the Bush administration does not have any evidence against them. Most of the detainees are innocent travelers and Arab businessmen who who captured by warlords and armed gangs and sold to the Americans who offered payments for "terrorists."

The reason so many of them have been tortured is that the Bush administration has no evidence against them and is relying on pain and the hopelessness of indefinite detention to induce