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This chapter compares the treatments of death and dying by Democritus and Lucretius. Both held the soul to be a physical structure of atoms, and death to consist in the loss of soul-atoms from the total body-soul structure. But while Democritus saw the soul as an undifferentiated structure extended throughout the body, Lucretius (following Epicurus) identified within the soul (anima) spread throughout the body a centre of consciousness (animus) located in the chest. For Democritus, death was a gradual process consisting in the loss of soul-atoms from the body as a whole, while for the Epicureans, including Lucretius, it consisted in the dispersal of the atoms of the animus, which was instantaneous. This difference allowed Democritus to recognize the possibility that residual consciousness might persist in peripheral regions of the body after the loss of most soul-atoms, whereas for Lucretius consciousness, which required the co-ordinating activity of the central animus, was impossible after the dissolution of the latter. Hence Lucretius denied the possibility of post-mortem sensation, and the restoration to life of the ostensibly dead, both of which Democritus recognized. Lucretius' theory can be seen as the precursor of modern accounts of brain-death, but in its insistence that the dissolution of the animus was instantaneous and irreversible, it was committed to denying the possibility of recovery after total cessation of the functioning of the vital centre, something which modern medicine has shown actually to occur in special circumstances.

This introductory chapter examines four questions: 1) Why protect possession?; 2) How is possession protected?; 3) How does the fact of possession relate to any rights to or of possession?; 4) What is so-called “quasi-possession”? One theme that is highlighted throughout the chapter is that the distance between the two great western legal traditions in this field might not be as great as is commonly believed, English law and modern civilian systems having both emerged at the crossroads of Roman law, canon law and feudalism. In this, the two of them belong to a pan-European current of concepts and doctrines which has shaped the modern law in all the jurisdictions examined, if in markedly different ways.

In this chapter, the focus is on Jung's ideas about the anima archetype as a figure of the “inner feminine” in men. The chapter scrutinizes Jung's theory from a feminist perspective and finds much to question and critique in terms of reified gender stereotypes. The archetypes of anima and animus have long been attacked as Jung's own personal (and highly questionable) views of the proper roles of men and women, cast in universalistic terms. However, along with applying the necessary critique, the chapter also shows how Jungian psychology may be recruited as an ally in the feminist project of challenging patriarchal authority in religion, culture, and politics and also in the psychological sphere. Jung's call for a greater attention to the wisdom of nature and the deeper rhythms of instinctual life and his acute psychological diagnosis of the ailments of modern society correspond to major themes in feminist theory and practice over the past several decades. For teachers who hesitate to include Jung in their classes because of his views on gender, the chapter offers an articulate and creative response.

This chapter reflects on forty years of experience of teaching Jung in a religious studies department. It discusses five major pedagogical pitfalls that can emerge when teaching Jung: a temptation to read Jungian thought in opposition to Freudian thought; a temptation to spiritualize Jung; a temptation to read Jung's notion of archetypes of the collective unconscious, as well as his views on anima and animus, as essentialist and essentializing; a temptation to view Jung's logic and rhetoric as “Gnostic”; and a temptation to read Jung's interpretations of art, religion, and culture as reductively psychologistic. In assessing these pitfalls, the chapter argues that misreading Jung ultimately leads to “misteaching” Jung.

In the previous chapter, we outlined a series of newly developed, theory-driven measures aimed to capture contemporary expressions of racial animus and attitudes; rather than simply focus on what Blacks have failed to do, these measures engage respondents’ attitudes and knowledge on institutional and structural racism, racial privilege, whiteness as well as feelings of racial guilt and empathy. These are some of the major components we noticed percolate in the way that Whites are talking about race matters these days. Though these newer scales and batteries were created independently, we believe that we can gain more traction in understanding contemporary racial attitudes by putting all of them-new and old-in conversation with each other. We do three sets of analyses in this chapter to gain a better understanding of the structure, nature, and role of Whites’ racial attitudes in the 21st Century, and do so by employing a sample of 743 Whites from the 2014 Cooperative Congressional Election Study (CCES).

Why is reification so resilient, and critique so difficult to sustain? Developing a critique of knowledge with its roots in Theodor Adorno’s Negative Dialectics, this chapter shows the depth of the problem in conceptual-philosophical terms and sketches a conceptual path for meeting it.

This chapter develops the themes of the book along the lines discussed above: its goals, and the key concepts it advances to achieve them. It sets out the longstanding challenge of sustainable critique in light of the problem of reification. It also surveys the effects of reification across eight decades of IR scholarship, framing and summarizing the case studies undertaken in Chapters 3-5.

This chapter focuses on defamation, a law of injuria, which was initially treated as a delict of intention and later moved to a bigger spectrum of de facto strict liability. The chapter is divided into two sections. The first section discusses the development of the general law within five periods which are critical in the history of Scots law. These five periods which chronicle the development of the general law of defamation include the pre-Reformation period, the Reformation to the mid-18th century, the early 19th century to the First World War, and the First World War to the present. The second section of the chapter discusses the areas of doctrinal stress arising from the changing analysis of the law of injuria. Topics discussed in the latter portion of this chapter include: the manner and time which made the presumption of animus irrebutable; the failure to develop of the applications of the law of injuria; the relative relevance of truth; defences; remedies; and terminological change.

This chapter describes the problems of responsibility for forms of ‘indirect aggression’. Charges of ‘aggression’ are often based on allegations of military aid to, and control over, rebels in a civil war. There remain some rather assorted problems relating to self-defence. The question of lawful defensive measures in the face of indirect aggression is specifically explored. The instruments relating to the use of force do not incorporate any references to animus aggressionis. The absence of such a requirement is an advantage for a number of reasons.

This chapter examines and explores the formal structure of judicial review in U.S. Supreme Court cases establishing the negative right prohibiting state-enforced racial discrimination codified in the Fourteenth Amendment Equal Protection clause. The fantasy of colorblindness in this doctrinal context is an admission of the limits of the justificatory logic of universal legal reason. Expanding on the abyssal form this limit takes, this chapter argues that colorblind judgment, like classic topographical conceptions of blindness in philosophic knowledge and aesthetic experience, both guards against and contains the excesses of desire, specifically “racial animus”, in law. The chapter further explores how the materiality of desire in legal judgment is also where a poetics of the plea takes the form of an enduring echo in constitutional law.

Duke Kahanamoku’s success in swimming and surfing in the early twentieth century made him one of the world’s most famous Hawaiians and aquatic stars. This chapter examines Kahanamoku’s Hawaiian identity and American citizenship as they were discussed and understood during his competitive career. His recent celebration as the subject of a postage stamp and statue indicates the ways Kahanamoku’s reputation has shifted over time.

This chapter analyzes dissenting opinions from the U.S. Supreme Court’s rulings in Windsor and Obergefell. Although the procreation argument was used sparingly by the Court, it does appear in modest form. More important are the justices’ uses of the themes of power, privilege, and liberty to justify maintaining the silences surrounding their antigay animus. For the dissenting justices the Court’s rulings in both cases signify an expansion of “We the People” that is unacceptable, a move from which they explicitly distance themselves and represent themselves as victims of a powerful minority. Their masculine heterosexual privilege was compromised, and the dissenting justices took it personally.

This chapter examines the delict of iniuria(contempt, insult), looking in particular at the name of the delict, the history of the actio iniuriarum, the measure of recovery and the necessary intention (animus iniuriandi). It also examines the relationship between the general edict and the special edicts on iniuria.

Before I go any further and in this chapter explore the relationship of Jalal Al-Ahmad and his wife Simin Daneshvar, a seminal aspect of both their lives and characters, let me briefly recap the major points I have been driving home so far as I write this book on the person I have suggested we consider ‘the last Muslim intellectual’.

Chapter 9 argues that the law of defamation should be reformed. First, a clear distinction should be drawn between the two main types of actionable harm arising from infringement of personality rights, namely, patrimonial loss and non-patrimonial harm (commonly called affront). The type of harm should govern the nature of the fault which forms the basis of liability. Second, if the pursuer suffers patrimonial loss through false communications, liability should no longer be strict as under the present law but should instead depend on negligence, or in cases of patrimonial verbal injury (slander of title or of property or of business) on wrongful intent to injure (animus iniuriandi). Finally, if the pursuer suffers affront or infringement of his dignitary non-patrimonial personality right, liability should depend on defamation if the words complained of are false and defamatory,or non-patrimonial verbal injury (hatred, ridicule or contempt) if the words are false and non-defamatory. The fault forming liability would be intent to injure (animus iniuriandi). This intent should not be presumed because strict liability, developed in patrimonial loss cases, is not appropriate in personality rights cases.

Anthropologists have often remarked that in gender-segregated societies, where men’s and women’s secret associations play important roles in maintaining mutual respect between the sexes, secrecy is a necessary illusion. If there are secrets among women, it is that they possess the imperturbability and moral strength that men consider solely and essentially theirs, while if there are secrets among men, it is that they possess the procreative and nurturing powers that women consider uniquely their own. This is the insight that underlies Gregory Bateson’s thesis that in societies where gender segregation is strictly enforced, an exaggerated and potentially dysfunctional gap will tend to open up between the sexes (complementary schismogenesis) that must be periodically and ritually closed in order to avoid complete alienation between men and women (symmetrical schismogenesis). In the role reversals of Kuranko initiation the strict separation of men and women, and the theatrical antagonism between them, masks an imitation and merging of opposite sexual qualities and works to prevent an absolute polarization of anima and animus.

This chapter begins with a study of Fereydoun Hoveyda’s essay called “Sunspots” that describes the dynamics of cinema and the way one feels when attending it. It explains how cinema defines how modern time is known by man, how memory and desire provide qualities to known space, and how cinema itself shapes man’s encounter with place and landscape. Cinema, according to Hoveyda, captures and channels a constantly unfolding force that runs through the represented spaces and temporal rhythms of a film and also through the audience in the dark room. This is when cinema works best, where it pulsates with energy; when the animus of a scene arcs like electricity from moment to moment, from screen to audience, and then back again. This energy emanating from the cinema screen is as vital as that of the sun’s, hence the name “Sunspots.”

This chapter reviews conventional narratives of racism and lynching, examining the extensive mob violence directed against persons of Mexican descent in Arizona Territory. While demonstrating the historical depth and contours of anti-Mexican animus in Arizona, the chapter also traces the pivotal social and political changes that shifted opinion against the lynching of Mexicans in the era of statehood in the 1910s. Moreover, there is no record of the illegal hanging of any Mexicans in Arizona after 1915. The strong reaction of Arizona's constituted authorities to the lynching of Mexican outlaws Jose and Hilario Leon did not end discrimination against Mexicans in the state, but it did close the door on what was agreed as the most symbolic and visible form of racial and ethnic persecution—community-sanctioned, extralegal murder.

This chapter traces the Supreme Court’s evolving approach to the constitutional rights of LGBTQ persons and whether moral disapproval justifies discriminatory criminal or civil laws. It evaluates the bigotry versus morality dynamic in these cases. Justice Kennedy never referred to bigotry in his landmark opinions in Romer v. Evans, Lawrence v. Texas (overruling Bowers v. Hardwick), United States v. Windsor, and Obergefell v. Hodges, yet the dissenters claimed he branded traditional believers as bigots and their beliefs about sexuality and marriage as bigotry. The chapter considers the argument that animus, a term Kennedy used, is the same as bigotry. Kennedy’s Obergefell opinion nowhere mentions animus or bigotry, focusing on the harmful effects of laws barring same-sex couples from marriage. Although Kennedy referred to religious opponents of same-sex marriage as sincere, dissenters countered that his opinion invited treatment of believers as bigots, setting the stage for future threats to their religious liberty.