We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
At the end of the twentieth century the discovery of 'slow', affective touch nerves in humans known as C Tactile (CT) afferents, which are entirely separate from the faster pathways for touching objects, had huge social implications. The Swedish neuroscientists responsible formulated an “affective touch hypothesis” or “social touch hypothesis” to consider their purpose. Part I offers a history of the science of social touch, from related discoveries in mammals by physiologists in the 1930s, to the recent rediscoveries of the CT nerves in humans. Part II considers how these findings are being intentionally folded into technologies for interaction. First, as mediated social touch, communicating at a distance through haptics. Second, with the increasing number of social and service robots in health care and domestic settings, the role of affective touch within human-robot interaction design.
This chapter defines the field of history by examining both the topics it investigates and some of its long-standing and unique epistemological and methodological assumptions. It points out the unique breadth of the discipline, which has always taken the whole of human experience as its object of study. It emphasizes the holism of the discipline – that is, History’s consistent interest not in particular parts or aspects of that experience, but in the interactions between different aspects of human societies. It examines the historicist tradition within the discipline – the fundamental assumption that every aspect of human life is conditioned by its broad historical context. And it explores the way in which that fundamental assumption has contributed to a primarily idiographic epistemological position – an interest in the analysis of the particular and specific, rather than the general or universal.
In this book, David Michael Grossberg offers a fresh and illuminating perspective on the three-thousand-year history of Jewish monotheism by narrating the history of 'God is one' as a religious slogan from the ancient to the modern world. Although 'God is one' has been called Judaism's primary testimony of faith, its meaning has been obscure and contentious from its earliest emergence. From the Bible's acclamatory 'the Lord is one' to Philo of Alexandria's highest Word just secondary to God; from the Talmud's rejection of 'two powers in heaven' to the philosophers' First Existent who is one beyond unity; from the Kabbalists' ten-fold Godhead to Spinoza's one substance, this innovative history demonstrates the remarkable diversity encompassed by this deceptively simple Jewish statement of faith. Grossberg demonstrates how this diversity is unified in a continuous striving for knowledge of God that has been at the heart of Judaism from its earliest beginnings.
This chapter focuses on the "alternate endings" typology. Building on theories of political rhetoric, we can break norms down into norm frames (norm-based justifications) and behavioral claims (conclusions for actions) and identify four alternate endings of norm contestation: norm impasse, norm neglect, norm recognition and norm clarification. Whether states (dis)agree on frames, claims, or both affects the stability of these alternate endings and norm strength. As identifying frames and claims in actors’ interpretations of international law is the cornerstone of this book, this chapter first provides detailed guidance on different kinds of norm frame and claim disagreements. It then analyzes the relative stability of each "alternate ending" and shows that frame agreement is an internal source of stability. Norm strength is conceptualized as the extent of collective expectations related to applying a norm of international law in a certain way. Norms are stronger when these collective expectations are clearer (social norm strength), and are held by more (critical) actors and/or cover more situations (relative norm strength). The chapter shows that the "alternate endings" typology can anchor the assessment of how contestation affects collective expectations. This approach provides a more actor-centric assessment of norm strength, compared to other prominent approaches.
Is the biblical story about Israel’s “United Monarchy” history, fiction, or somewhere in between? This chapter reviews the scholarly discourse about the texts and introduces critical Bible study. Since the inception of critical scholarship, Bible scholars have noted that the narrative contains tensions and even contradictions that demonstrate the impossibility of accepting the details of the biblical narrative as an accurate reporting of events. Nevertheless, researchers long distinguished between the core narrative arc of the Saul and David stories, which was relatively consistent between the sources, and the many contradictions, alternative details, and smaller points, which were understood as attempts at polemic and apologetics, pushing one agenda or another, or simply rhetorical flourish. This meant that while many of the details in these accounts cannot be taken at face value as historical, the same critical reading of the text led biblical scholars to believe – until recently – in the historicity of the bigger picture. The reasons why this consensus has changed are primarily due to broader, “archaeological” considerations that are discussed in Chapter 3.
We have proposed in these pages to consider sacrificial violence as a singularity – in other words, as an object that eludes analysis and that can only be approached through examining the set of relations that are tied up in it.
We have seen how violence, in its exemplary form of sacrifice and in its generalised form of the ‘great sacrifice’ of war, is intertwined with social organisation. The latter is born of sacrifice in the myth of the first sacrifice. Reciprocally, for the royal sacrifice, each group assumes the function proper to its class, as created by this mythical account of the first sacrifice. This circular movement expresses a tautological ideology that posits sacrifice as the essence of organised life and, in return, sacralises its sacrificial reordering.
Through the consecration of the violence it operates within, sacrifice presents itself as a model of legitimate violence. This violence is openly exhibited and may be denied as violence or else declared necessary. This does not mean, however, that sacrifice represents a lesser violence aimed at containing generalised violence. On the contrary, it is magnified and propagated during the buffalo sacrifice. Nor does its legitimacy make it a violence that is not perceived as such, at least by some categories of people in the assembly. In the royal ceremony, at the same time as the sacrifice directs violence outside of the group, in the execution of the animal alter and then in the war which follows it, it also exerts violence within it, through a whole range of procedures that we have encountered throughout this text, such as by exclusion, victimisation or threat targeted at specific categories of people within the group. Sacrificial violence thus takes on a dual manifestation within the group from which it emanates – at once unifying and divisive, inclusive and exclusive, it is exerted upon the community, carving out its partitions only to unfold outside of them. It thus expresses social violence and political violence in the same movement, each containing the idiom of the other at its heart, recalling the sacrifice in ancient India, in which each constituent part contained the whole. In this manner, both social structure and political activity inter-construct each other through violence, which is itself conditioned by the form that sacrifice gives it.
The milestones of the anthropological approach to sacrifice have drawn a dead-end trajectory. Initially inspired by a desire to construct a unique and universal model of sacrifice through the identification of its scheme, to which Hubert and Mauss attached themselves, within a matter of decades the idea that the infinite variation of sacrifice eluded any attempts to conclusively define it imposed itself. It even led to the term ‘sacrifice’ being denounced entirely, on the grounds that it would artificially unify an enormous diversity of practices across the globe, as well as being too connected to a Christian heritage. Such a definitive denunciation of sacrifice was formulated by Marcel Detienne (1979: 34–35):
[T]he notion of ‘sacrifice’ is indeed a category of yesterday's thought, conceived as arbitrarily as that of totemism – once denounced by Lévi-Strauss – both to gather elements taken here and there in the symbolic fabric of societies to form an artificial template, and to confess the astonishing empire that an all-encompassing Christianity has never ceased to exert secretly on the thinking of all those historians and sociologists who were persuaded that they were inventing a new science.
A few decades later, it appears that, unlike the notion of totemism, which effectively fell into disuse after its deconstruction by Claude Lévi-Strauss (1962), sacrifice is far from weakened by these remarks, nor has it even ceased to be used as a category of analysis by its author and those working in the field. Briefly put, the political history of the last three decades in particular has dramatically reintroduced sacrifice to modern anthropological thought.
As Ivan Strenski (2003) points out, the science of religions was initially uninterested in sacrifice, which was seen as an amoral and primitive practice. Following the first works of the English school, an essay on sacrifice by Henri Hubert and Marcel Mauss appeared in 1899, when its two authors were both 27 years old. The former was a history graduate, the second a philosophy graduate, and both shared a passion for ancient languages, notably Hebrew and Sanskrit, as well as for religious trivia.
Measurable residual disease (MRD) is an established prognostic factor after induction chemotherapy in acute myeloid leukaemia patients. Over the past decades, molecular and flow cytometry-based assays have been optimized to provide highly specific and sensitive MRD assessment that is clinically validated. Flow cytometry is an accessible technique available in most clinical diagnostic laboratories worldwide and has the advantage of being applicable in approximately 90% of patients. Here, the essential aspects of flow cytometry-based MRD assessment are discussed, focusing on the identification of leukaemic cells using leukaemia associated immunophenotypes. Analysis, detection limits of the assay, reporting of results and current clinical applications are also reviewed. Additionally, limitations of the assay will be discussed, including the future perspective of flow cytometry-based MRD assessment.
This chapter addresses how politics, epistemology, and modernity are co-produced, and, in this process, how the pre-defined notions of politics, epistemology, and modernity themselves are transformed and reconstructed. The emergent theoretical framing is empirically informed by the place-specific campaign against the aerial spraying of endosulfan pesticide wherein ‘life is cheaper than cashew’. The chapter highlights the structural connections between global capitalism and state-driven developmentalism but also how the very state was conscientized by the transverse solidarity of the ‘constituent power’, including the victims and the larger civil society as agents of modernity, the latter understood as resistance for egalitarianism. However, it does not stop there. We shall also touch upon the ‘epistemological break’ (Bachelard 1938; Althusser 1969) that has occurred in the larger context of knowledge controversies and conflicts (see Whatmore 2009).
In May 2010, the left-front government in the Indian state of Kerala took the historic decision to ban more than a dozen toxic pesticides in the state. This was the culmination of over a decade and a half of struggle and movements in protest against the aerial spraying of endosulfan on the state-owned cashew plantation in the northernmost district of Kasaragod. This chapter follows the prolonged struggle led by the victims of the deadly pesticide, the awakening of a general consciousness among the public, the building up of transverse politics and solidarity, and, finally, the persuasion of the state to ban the pesticide, along with other toxic wastes. The chapter is situated in the larger context of what Beck (1986), Habermas (1987), and Gaonkar (2001) would call risk society, a society in which modernity has become ‘a theme and a problem for itself’, and thus the crisis inherent in it is to be managed through a reinvention of politics. The chapter suggests that the concept of risk society and reflexive modernity as the outcome of a series of struggles and movements demanding the ban on endosulfan in the state offers fresh insights into the power of the people and the civil society in joining the victims.
Seamus Heaney and Catholicism makes extensive use of unpublished material to offer fresh insights into Heaney's complex engagement with Catholicism. Gary Wade explores how Catholicism operates in ways other than social and political, which have largely been the focus of critics up until now. Using extensive unpublished material, including early drafts of some familiar poems, it offers close readings which explore how Catholicism operates at the level of feeling, and how it continued to have an emotional purchase on Heaney long after he had left behind orthodox practice. It also engages with Heaney's increasing concern, in his later work, with the loss of a metaphysical sensibility, and his turning to the Roman poet Virgil to deal with questions of death and post-mortem existence. The book concludes by arguing that Heaney's Catholicism is displaced rather than rejected, and that his vision expands to accommodate both the Christian and the Classical worlds.
This Element offers readers an overview of the theory, research, and practice of teaching academic writing to second language/multilingual (L2) students. The Element begins with a discussion of contextual features and some of the most common settings in which L2AW is taught. The Element then defines and shares examples of several concepts, pedagogical approaches, and teaching practices that are particularly relevant to L2AW instruction. Reflective questions guide readers to consider how these aspects of L2AW might be carried out within their own educational settings. Finally, the Element considers the rapid changes in technology and their influences on texts and academic writing.