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  • Blog-guidelines | IPN

    IPN Blog Guidelines The blog at IPN is a platform for philosophers and others to write about philosophy in India and also to express philosophically informed opinions. What kind of articles are published in the IPN blog? General articles about philosophy. Articles can be about Philosophy for Society and Public – Articles that explore the questions and events of society from philosophical viewpoints. Life of philosophy and philosophers in India – Articles that explore and document the experiences of philosophers and the nature of philosophy – as a discipline/practice/profession – in India. Academic Philosophy – Articles that introduce (either to fellow academicians or the public) a specific topic in Philosophy. Academic engagements like Brief, accessible summaries by researchers about their latest publications (books or papers) for wider dissemination Reviews of philosophy books Critical responses to papers Who can write for the IPN blog? Given that the aim of the IPN blog is to enable a dialogue between philosophers and the public, we accept articles from both philosophers and the public. Philosophers who are not members of IPN, including undergraduate and graduate philosophy students, can also submit. Submission Guidelines Critical Responses to Journal Papers There are two ways of initiating these response articles for the IPN Blog: A scholar can send a response to a recently published paper to the editors. The editors will try to reach the author for a reply to the response-note submitted. If a scholar has published an article recently, the scholar can get in touch with the blog editors with a few suitable respondents’ names (preferably faculty or advanced PhD scholars). Scope of response articles to journal papers at the IPN blog: Responses are limited to papers written by philosophy scholars in India. Only responses to peer-reviewed papers in respected journals are accepted. The paper, preferably, should not be older than 10 years. Points about structure: The response articles will consist of two parts: (a) the critical response by a scholar and (b) the reply from the author Each of these parts is around 300 words. A critical response should not just be a summary of the paper. It attempts to critically, and yet briefly, evaluate the paper by doing any of the following: raises some challenges to the paper’s claims, provides further clarifications/support for the claims, or extends the paper’s claims to other domains of debate. The author of the paper, in turn, replies to the points raised by the responder. Book Review There are two ways of initiating book reviews for the IPN Blog: A scholar can send a review of a recently published book to the editors. If a scholar has published a book recently, the scholar can get in touch with the blog editors with a few suitable reviewers’ names (preferably faculty or advanced PhD scholars). General points for all articles While submitting the article, please share the document over google-doc. The article can also be submitted as a standalone docx file. Please use the Chicago Manual Style author-date in-line citations and end bibliography. Use endnotes instead of footnotes. Please use Grammarly or other tools to remove spelling and grammar mista kes. We have a non-negotiable policy against plagiarism. Review process The article will be reviewed by the editorial team and suitable comments will be provided Wherever necessary, the editorial team will reach out to other scholars for their feedback and recommendations. Editorial team Manohar Kumar (Faculty, IIIT Delhi) Varun S Bhatta (Faculty, IISER Bhopal)

  • Mulla Nasrettin's Cogito | IPN

    Mulla Nasrettin's Cogito Danish Hamid Independent Scholar Article # Jan 13, 2025 One day, while wandering through the Old Venetian bazār, I, Mulla Nasrettin, stumbled upon a rather attractive looking leather bound book, titled Meditations written by a certain Descartes. Now, you know me—I’m a man of reflection, and the word "meditations" has always had a certain allure. “Perhaps,” I thought, “this book might guide me to some inner peace or reveal hidden truths of the soul that this French philosopher has discovered.” So I bought it, tucked it under my arm, and made my way home, thinking I’d sit down with it after Isha. The night was quiet, perfect for a bit of soul-searching. I lit a small lamp, sat comfortably by the fire, and picked up the book. Meditations by Monsieur Descartes. “Let’s see what wisdom your little book has for me,” I muttered to myself. I opened the book with great anticipation. But alas! The first few pages were filled with long-winded ramblings about method, and oh! How this Descartes fellow loved to talk about himself! His achievements, his credentials, his method—Method this, method that! I sighed. “Where is the meditation, the wisdom, the Lubbu'l-Lubâb of the matter?” I asked aloud. “Am I reading about the vanity of an old man or a guide to truth?” But then—finally!—I came across something more practical. This Descartes began doubting things. Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere, I thought. Doubting existence, doubting knowledge—this was something I could work with. Nasrettin Hoca likes a good doubt as much as anyone, especially when it comes to doubting about dreams, even in one's dreams. And so, I followed Descartes’s reasoning. I, too, would doubt the world around me, doubt my senses, doubt everything until only one thing remained. “I think, therefore I am,” Descartes concluded, and there it was—the grand revelation! I jumped from my seat. “Aha! I exist! I think, therefore I am!” But wait. This didn’t feel right. A different doubt now gnawed at me. Could it be that this Monsieur hadn’t doubted hard enough? He stopped too soon. He was content to rest at thinking. How could he be sure thinking was enough, enough to show I exist? I sat back down and rubbed my chin. “This Descartes fellow... He doubts, yes, but not quite as far as one must go. He should have doubted his own doubting! After all, if I’m to doubt everything, then why not doubt the very fact that I am doubting? Could it be that even my doubts are the product of someone—or something—else? I mean, who is to say these thoughts are mine at all?” With that thought, I stood again, pacing. “What if I am simply imagining my doubts? What if, in truth, I am a figment of someone else’s imagination?” And just then, my donkey, who had been lazily resting outside, brayed loudly. I turned to the door and squinted. “Ah, yes. The donkey. Could it be...?” My heart raced with this impossible thought. “What if it is not me imagining these doubts, but my donkey?” I strode outside to face the old beast. The donkey stared back at me, chewing slowly on his grass, completely indifferent to my hypothesis. “Tell me, old friend,” I said, crouching down to eye level with the creature. “Are you the one thinking me into existence? Is it you who doubts for me, making me question whether or not I exist?” The donkey blinked lazily. For a moment, the thought made me dizzy, but… I couldn’t dismiss it so easily. After all, if Descartes could doubt the existence of everything but his own thoughts, why couldn’t I go a step further? If I was to doubt everything, I must doubt that I am the one doing the doubting. Maybe the donkey—silent, patient, always observing—was the true thinker here, and I was merely his daydream. I stood, perplexed. “I doubt, therefore I am? No. Perhaps it is: The donkey doubts, therefore we are!” I walked back to my bed, shaking my head. This Descartes is too dubious a fellow, apart from being totally full of himself. The West must have come to really bad times when this guy is their star new philosopher. Oh to the good old days of Aristu, and Eflatun the Divine! But as I lay down to sleep that night, I couldn't help but worry. “Whether it’s my doubt or the donkey’s that gives me existence, one thing’s for sure—I can never look at the beast the same way again.” And with that, I drifted off, my mind slowly going into a haze….am I dreaming of the donkey, or does the donkey still dream of me?

  • What Responsibility? Whose Responsibility? | IPN

    What Responsibility? Whose Responsibility? Bhaskarjit Neog Associate Professor, Centre for Philosophy, JNU Book Excerpt # Feb 7, 2024 An excerpt from Bhaskarjit Neog's book What Responsibility? Whose Responsibility: Intention, Agency and Emotions of Collective Entities (2024, Routledge, India). Published with permission from Routledge (India). Examples of collective wrongdoings abound across societies. The moral history of human society is full of such cases – the bloody wars, mob violence, racism, communal and ethnic riots, oppression by colonial powers, exploitation in the name of caste and class, and numerous incidents of coups, gang wars, corporate frauds, and terrorist activities. Their impacts on the moral community are so startling that we do not know how to reconcile ourselves to any punitive measures offered by any existing arrangements of a society. We go out in public and argue why the activities of such groups or collectives are reprehensible, and why we must excoriate them. In most cases, however, public rage dies down over a period of time without receiving much moral attention or condemnation. One of the reasons behind the disappearance of moral resentment from public memory is the fact that we do not always have a clear understanding of the simple question – who is responsible when a group or collective is held responsible? We do not seem to know much about the idea of moral responsibility for collective wrongdoings as much as we know about moral responsibility of individual wrongdoings. Although collective wrongdoings of this kind are ultimately carried out by individuals, it seems quite appropriate to first talk about the moral culpability of the whole organization or entity of which they are part. On the face of it, this idea of attributing moral properties to groups or collectives is uncomplicated and a matter of our everyday moral vocabulary. We can easily comprehend why a group or community deserves to be condemned for any action or omission, just the way any individual does. Non-philosophically speaking, the fact that, say, Nazi Germans are collectively blamed for their cruelty against the Jews is no more complex a matter to understand than it is to understand why Hitler is blamed for the same cruelty. As far as the normal comprehension of the meaning of blame is concerned, it hardly makes any difference whether the concept of blame is used in a collective or an individual context. The collective/individual contrast seems immaterial to the semantics of "blame" or other responsibility-bearing moral notions. But, to view it more analytically, there appears a serious conceptual problem. The idea of collective responsibility tends to become somewhat slippery and eludes our understanding when we try to understand it by following our easy grasp of the concept of individual moral responsibility. That Hitler is blamed for inhuman actions is easy enough to understand, because there is, or was, an individual human person in space and time that constituted the determinate target of our attitude of blame. In other words, there is a clear answer to the question: “Who is to be blamed?” or “Who experiences the feeling of guilt?” In contrast, there is no distinct identifiable target through which the idea of collective responsibility can be made sense of. Thus, when we talk about collective responsibility, one might bluntly respond with questions: What responsibility? And whose responsibility are you talking about? A collective – whether with a structure or without it – unlike its constituent individuals, does not seem to have any clear responsibility-bearing make-up. For it is not an embodied entity with its own consciousness and rationality required for being a moral agent. To track down its blameworthy character we need to know how and in what sense their actions and inactions are intentional or purposeful. Given that intentions and other responsibility-making psychological states are paradigmatically understood as a matter of minded entities, groups and collectives being non-minded, cannot be said to have such conscious states. Similarly, unlike their individual members, they cannot have or experience any moral emotions when they are made aware of their reprehensilizable behaviours. Neither can they sympathize or empathize with the victims of their actions in the way required of them. Nevertheless, it is a hard normative fact that we do talk about the moral responsibility of collectives, and we do hold them seriously morally accountable for many things. Many a time our responsibility statements about individuals are in fact grounded in a language of the responsibility of groups or collectives to which they belong. So, the questions that linger in our deliberative mind are: Is the phenomenon of collective responsibility really real, or is it metaphorical – a mere façon de parler , as many would like to call it? If it is real, is it a summation or incorporation of the moral responsibility of individuals, or is it something different from them – both in terms of its contents and meaning? And what gets added or obliterated in our standard understanding of responsibility when we see it through the prism of a collective framework? Besides, normatively speaking, how do we evaluate the moral status of individuals who stand up and raise their voice against the things that are done in the name of their group? For instance, how do we make sense of the moral status of those protestors who hit the streets with slogans such as NotInOurName or NotInMyName? This book offers a modest ground for judiciously responding to some of these questions. It aims to redeem collective responsibility by defending the consistency and legitimacy of collective intentions, collective agency, and collective emotions. It talks of collective moral responsibility as the responsibility of collectives without either reducing it to the moral responsibility of the collective members or making it a case where their exact moral positions are effectively made blurred. The ground for defending this account is thus a non-individualist or quasi-collectivist ground – a ground located in the contested space between two prominent approaches – collectivism and individualism. Three components may be considered for a standard justification of moral responsibility – intention, agency, and affective or reactive attitudes of the subject concerned. These components show why, how, and on what ground a subject may be taken to be an appropriate candidate of our moral evaluations. Intentions refer to the psychological state of a subject with which the action concerned is performed. Agency is the capacity that the subject has for being able perform a morally considerable action or omission. And affective or reactive attitudes are humane reactions of the relevant subject’s putative moral agency that is amenable for the attribution of moral responsibility. These components are important not just for the justification of moral responsibility of structured collectives but also for the less-structured collectives. To proceed on this path, I draw on the latest resources of two theoretically interconnected areas of analytic philosophy – first, collective intentionality, a newly developed area in the intersection of philosophy of action and mind, and the second, somewhat old but now a freshly rejuvenated field called social ontology with perspectives from psychology, sociology, cognitive sciences and other disciplines. Both these areas investigate the nature and functions of variety of cognitive and non-cognitive properties such as beliefs, desires, intentions, guilt, remorse, and others that underly the constitutions of collective affairs. While the justification of a substantive account of collective responsibility along this line has been in the know for quite some time, there has not been a systematic effort of bringing together two equally compelling approaches, namely the cognitivist and emotivist ways. I explore the possibility of combining them in a way that would elevate the debate of collective responsibility from the narrow confines of both individualism and collectivism. This is a book on morality of groups with a special focus on the concept of collective responsibility. So, naturally it is a book that can be catalogued under moral philosophy. But since it is a product of weaving and stitching resources of multiple areas of philosophy and other allied disciplines, its significance may also be seen in other fields of humanities and social sciences where the issue of collectivity is discussed and debated. The prospective audience of the book thus includes, but not restricted to, moral philosophers, political theorists, legal theorists, just war theorists, business ethicists, policy makers, and others who take interest in the general question of moral responsibility in collective contexts.

  • Philosophy Education and Job Competencies | IPN

    Philosophy Education and Job Competencies Nishant Kumar Assistant Professor, Joy University (Tirunelveli, India) Article # Nov 6, 2022 I recently switched to one private University in Tamil Nadu - Joy University. I had been assigned to frame the curriculum and course structure for BA Philosophy. While framing the curriculum, I stuck with a few questions that I thought to discuss with Indian Philosophy Network (IPN) members. Therefore in the IPN mailing, I raised a few questions in the hope to receive some responses. The questions were: what is the current trend in the job market, and how an undergraduate Philosophy student could easily get a job? Is there a job apart from academics and research for Philosophy UG students? If a Philosophy student has to go into journalism, law, HR, consultancy, etc., then why shouldn’t the student will study journalism, law, etc. respectively, and get a degree in that particular subject, instead of studying a few years of Philosophy? How Philosophy as a subject could generate jobs? These questions strike some IPN members as important to be discussed. In this regard, I acknowledge here sincere thanks to Sudakhya, Jobin Mathew Kanjirakkat, Mohan K Pillai, Siddharth, and Varun for discussing with me and giving me insight on these questions. While framing these questions, I thought that these questions would again land up to the fundamental question about philosophy - "what is philosophy?". Bertrand Russell has answered it as the love of wisdom whereby wisdom is having a comprehensive picture of reality. However, the sentence "comprehensive picture of reality" is contentious and raises further questions. How do we get a comprehensive picture without experiencing all the aspects of life? Suppose, I am a poor philosopher that earns so little that I can hardly sustain myself. However, I have been given a task to explain the life of a rich person. Can I be able to provide a comprehensive picture of a rich person without experiencing that life? Can I be able to know "what it is like to be a rich person"? Is it meant that we can never be able to provide a comprehensive picture because of our limitation to experience various aspects of life? If that would be the case, does philosophical knowledge get reduced to knowing some buzzwords, which upon hearing by common people would create an impression that philosophers are 'intellectual' persons? Is philosophy just about discussing random thoughts? Or does philosophy have some practical relevance in our day to day life? For Jobin, who is an independent philosophy scholar, the aim of philosophy is to "clarify the ideas and develop a reasonable concern for our fellow human and non human beings. Business or job-providers, on the other hand, are interested in increasing production, consumption and profits." Jobin’s statement consists of two parts (a) aim of philosophy (b) aim of job providers. Jobin has nicely summed up the aim of philosophy that having philosophical skill helps to understand various ideas in a much better manner than not having that skill. Further, by studying philosophy we would get exposure to ethical theories and thereby would be concerned for sentient beings. However, I am unsure why Jobin wants to completely differentiate the aim of philosophy from the aim of job-providers. If we differentiate it completely without considering "what it is like to be a job-provider" we are certainly restricting ourselves to know one aspect of life, i.e. aspect of a job-provider. This is because, to know about what it is like to be a job-provider, entrepreneur, business person, etc. we have to experience that state. Then only we could explain what it is like to be that person. Maybe Jobin’s view to differentiate the two aims is to point that the primary objective of philosophy is not to generate jobs and further there is less probable chance that an undergrad in philosophy could land up in high paying jobs. However, this does not seem implied from his other statement- "if an undergraduate [philosophy] program can include components of relevant aspects of business and environmental studies, it will be very helpful I think." This statement of Jobin conveys that if we will study philosophy through integrating other subjects then the importance of studying philosophy will increase among those students who want to get immediate jobs after their undergrad. The similar view is also maintained by Mohan, Sudakhya, and Siddharth. Mohan, a Trainee Counselling Psychologist, believes that learning only philosophy without integrating with other subjects or skill does not help undergrad students. He said "I do not think majoring purely in philosophy is of merit to students." Majoring purely in philosophy "does not equip you with a marketable skill, it does not familiarize you with a domain of work, it does not even give you a generic skill like teaching." However, "philosophy is an invaluable companion to other subjects". It equips ones "with the basic tools and exposure to reason and deeply understands the foundations and processes of any subject." For him, by studying philosophy we would develop self-reflecting skills as he said "philosophy offers a powerful set of tools to navigate the confusion and trials of young adulthood — where one is at that crucial phase of questioning, figuring out, and reconciling existential questions." In terms of getting a high paying job, his opinion is to combine philosophy with other subjects/domains/disciplines. This will, as he argued, "really elevate a person’s job success, and more importantly, life satisfaction." A similar opinion is also maintained by Sudakhya, a research scholar at University of Delhi. She suggests to include more subjects of applied philosophy in a curriculum of undergrad philosophy course. Her suggestion included "Philosophy of Technology, Ethical implications of IT, Business ethics/Corporate ethics, Philosophy of Law, Philosophical Counseling". According to her, these courses will help to "build practical skills" that are required in a job market. Siddharth, a philosophy faculty at Sai University, thinks the nature of philosophy is "to look beyond the immediately useful". That is, the primary aim of Philosophy course is to transcend the practical living and hence not to get involved in jobs, as he said- "I do not mean that a UG in philosophy is not likely to help you find jobs, but that this is not the primary aim of the programme". One question can arise here; isn't any phenomenon would have more than one primary aim? If it is so, why not studying philosophy courses would have two primary aims - (a) to look beyond the immediately useful (b) get a job. Why should we simply reject the practical way of living as not one of philosophy’s primary aims? I requested Siddharth to reply on this question. He responded that his comment "philosophy often seeks to look beyond the immediately useful" should not mean that philosophy does not "helps us transcend practical living and hence not get involved in jobs". Instead, it should be implied that philosophy wants us "to look beyond the immediate, to reflect on the practical (including jobs)." This last statement does not contrast with my viewpoint that philosophy course would have two aims. Furthermore, Siddharth thinks that philosophy is an important and crucial tool to help us in living in this world, and also as far as jobs and careers are concerned. This is because, philosophy can provide certain skills like "(a) reasoning in a systematic manner, (b) identifying concepts and assumptions the underlie issues, which trains them to be better at identifying problems and thinking about alternatives, and (c) an ability to organize their communication in a clear manner (especially written communication)." These skills "together be called critical thinking and communication skills." I agree with Siddharth that studying philosophy courses equips us with critical thinking and communication skills, which are essential skills for any student. According to Varun, who is a philosophy faculty at IISERB, there are two ways of thinking about the relation between philosophy and the job opportunities: (1) jobs specifically/traditionally associated with the discipline of philosophy and (2) the role of philosophy for any kind of profession. The often mentioned criticism of the discipline entailing a few choices of professions arises when we focus on just (1). Indeed, at present, we have only a limited set of imaginations of being a professional philosopher. Now, is this a "problem" or a "feature" of the discipline? Also, other Humanities and Social Science disciplines -- like literature, history and anthropology -- share these narrow possibilities of professionalism when compared to sciences and engineering. (Here, Mohan points that other Humanities and Social Sciences degrees, unlike philosophy, do offer the job opportunities as school teachers and researchers at think-tanks and other NGOs. This is yet to happen for philosophy degree holders.) Varun, thus, thinks that the job entailments should not be decided only based on (1). In contrast to this, when we consider point (2), we see that philosophy -- unlike any other discipline -- is in fact useful to a wide and diverse range of professions. Critical thinking and argumentative skills, exposure to ethics, and other philosophical perspectives are essential in every profession. Sketech by Nishant Kumar I agree with Varun and Siddharth that by studying philosophy courses, a student would be able to equip themselves with 'critical thinking and communication skills', or in short 'philosophical skills'. A philosophy student not only learns how to articulate a particular problem succinctly, but can also provide new arguments or can find the fallacies in existing arguments of any idea. However, I disagree with Siddharth that the primary aim of philosophy is not to get into a job. Instead, I strongly think that one of the primary aims of philosophy is to get into a job (a) to sustain itself (b) to get the experience of one aspect of reality, i.e. being into a job or to know ‘what it is like to be in that job’. Now two questions arise that (a) how a philosophy student can compete with other discipline/branch students to get hired by a company (b) how a company will profit by hiring a philosophy student. My opinion is that a philosophy undergrad student must take any kind of basic technical skills of their choice after their undergrad or during their undergrad to become a first preference for any company. Philosophy undergrad students will definitely learn faster because of having thinking skills that they acquired during their undergraduate program. With that technical skill they can easily get hired by any company that works in that technical domain. After getting hired, they must ensure that they will go through a training program of that job profile so that they will understand the job profile in a much better manner. With the experience of training program in company, having acquired technical skills, and having philosophical skills they can be a true asset for that company. This is because, a philosophy student with their knowledge of different cultures can understand the user demand of a product, and can explain succinctly to the team members for improvisation and innovation of any product, and can lead the team effectively. With their technical skills they can improvise a product and also can innovate new products as per the user demand. Although a philosophy student will be an asset for a company, I am skeptical that a philosophy student will stay forever in one company for the job. As Siddharth has mentioned that one of the aim of philosophy is to transcend practical living, I think that a philosophy student will definitely continuously switch to other companies to know various aspect of practical living or will go into research to find the comprehensive picture of reality.

  • Modernity and its Futures Past | IPN

    Modernity and its Futures Past Nishad Patnaik Faculty, IIIT Delhi Book Excerpt # Jan 8, 2025 An excerpt from Nishad Patnaik's book Modernity and its Futures Past: Recovering Unalienated Life (2023, Palgrave Macmillan, India). The basic claim of the book is that the contemporary figuration of modernity, in the positivistic understanding of nature, and capitalist form of society (as two sides of the same coin), constitutes the reification of the original universal, critical-rational impulse of the Enlightenment. Such reification sets up a tension between the universalizing and particularizing tendencies of reason, reflected, for instance, in the current dominance of the de-territorializing forces of globalized capitalism, on the one hand, and the simultaneous reemergence of xenophobic forms of nationalism, based on narrow, territorially bounded identifications along religious, ethnic or linguistic lines on the other. The tension between the universal and the particular, symptomatic of this deeper structural tendency towards reification, leads to a series of impasses in the interconnected theoretical, ethical, political and economic spheres, which come to constitute our sense of alienation. The book responds to this problematic by attempting to reconcile this tension in dialectical fashion, and thereby articulate an ‘alternative’, non-reified conception of modernity, from within the modernist tradition . Thus, instead of understanding the tension between the universal and the particular, the one and the many, the same and the other etc., as representing a mutually exclusive either-or choice, the book approaches these issues by elaborating their mutually constitutive co-dependence. As a corollary, it shows that the series of impasses to which modernity succumbs in the interconnected theoretical, ethical, political and economic spheres, stem from the attempt to reduce the ‘universal’ to the ‘particular’ or vice versa. The work argues that if we resist this tendency towards reduction, we can still renew the emancipatory promise that Enlightenment modernity once held, for providing a rational-universal self-foundation for humanity, while simultaneously avoiding the pitfalls of a reified form of universality. As we know, (and as Husserl elaborates with his evocation of the sense of ‘crisis’ in what he calls the ‘European Sciences’) the early optimism and ‘naïve faith’ in ‘universal reason’ has long since given way to skeptical resignation in the face of the positivistic form of reason that comes to dominate. The ‘positivistic reduction’ of reason has resulted in a morass of ‘posts’—'post-modernism’, ‘post-truth’, post-structuralism, post-Marxism etc., at the level of theory, which indicate a tendency towards the ‘empiricization’ of reason. The effects of such empiricization are felt in the intertwined ethical, political, and economic domains. And yet, at the level of socio-political and economic history, as the long, sordid past of the contemporary capitalist figuration of modernity, marked by the violence of colonialism, slavery etc., shows, any straightforward positing of the universal dimension of reason, in the face of such skepticism and resulting empiricization, is no longer possible. For, it is precisely in the name of ‘universal reason’, mediated through the inherent expansionary economic logic of capitalism, that colonial subjugation and exploitation (primary/‘primitive accumulation of capital’ in Marx’s terminology) unfolded (and I argue, continues to unfold in a transformed modality under the current neoliberal regime, which imposes its own neo-imperialist tendencies). Indeed, the skeptical reaction to the universal claims of ‘enlightened’ reason, leading to their empiricization (positivistic reduction), stems, in large measure, from these effects of an uncritical, reified universalism, which (qua concrete or determinate universal’ in the Hegelian sense) tend to exclude certain cultures, peoples (and their interests), and modes of thought. This is because, as many thinkers such as Charles Taylor, Judith Butler etc. have pointed out, any determinate universal, qua determinate, must necessarily be limited in its scope. The scope of the universal has historically determined, and continues to determine, the constitution of identity and difference, the ‘same’ and the ‘other’, that is, those that are included in, and excluded from, its scope. In modernity, as the scope of the universal is extended, at least in principle, to include all human beings (and now increasingly non-human species), it can set up a movement where the excluded can come to ‘haunt’ the universal, forcing its expansion (but also possible contraction). This also indicates the possibility of modernist ethics as an ethics without specific content, or a negative ethics, that is committed only to the ‘gap’ between any concretization of the universal—the ethically invested content/normative order of any political discourse, and the empty universal it represents—its indeterminate ‘horizonal beyond’ by which it is necessarily oriented, such that the former is always subject to critique and revision in light of the latter. Explicating this movement (‘hauntology’) Butler, for instance, writes, modern “democratic polities are constituted through exclusions that return to haunt the polities predicated upon their absence. That haunting becomes politically effective precisely in so far as the return of the excluded forces an expansion and re-articulation of the basic premise of democracy itself” (Butler, 2000, 11) . These considerations make visible, the basic dialectic between the ‘universal’ and the ‘particular’, in its enmeshed ‘theoretical’ and ‘material’ aspects. That is, they make visible both the constitutive interrelation and dependence between the universal and the particular, as well as the tendency towards reduction/reification of this interrelation to one of its poles (dialectical ‘one-sidedness’) that gives rise to the tensions or impasses inherent in our contemporary (alienated) modernity. It follows that the ultimately ethical task of renewing the emancipatory potential inherent in the critical-rational and universal dimension of reason that constituted the original impetus of Enlightenment modernity, in the face of its contemporary reified ‘theoretical’ and ‘material’ configuration, calls for a revised, non-reified conception of universality. The latter, I argue, can be nothing but a negative universality—a universality in constant ‘becoming’, (therefore, in its processive movement, nothing but a negative dialectic). Further, as I noted, the rearticulation of universality in this transformed, negative sense, in the face of reified (positivist and capitalist) modernity, amounts to the (re)articulation of an ‘alternative’, non-reified conception of modernity, from within the modernist tradition . For, as we know, the critical thrust of enlightened reason lies in the disenchantment of the world—stripping it of ‘meaning’ and ‘purposiveness’, which come to be seen as merely anthropomorphic projections. The disenchanted world, particularly in its capitalistic figuration, alienates human beings from nature and from each other. Thus, to rearticulate human emancipatory possibilities calls for the rearticulation of a non-alienated conception of both nature and society. However, the disenchantment wrought by the critical-reflective rationality of the Enlightenment cannot simply be undone in a return to pre-modern ‘enchantment’ —to a sacralised conception of the world, and to some posited ‘original’ unity with it in unalienated ‘immediacy’. For, on the one hand, the historically emergent critical-reflective experience of disenchantment (as an expression of reflective distance, transcendence vis-a-vis ‘immediacy’, inescapable mediation, or universality in a negative sense etc.), constitutive of our modernist form of consciousness and society, cannot simply be obliterated, in what would amount to ‘collective amnesia’ (although the dangers of such amnesia are always present, and become exacerbated in times of socio-economic and political crises). On the other, the earlier ‘enchanted’ conceptions of the world, with their naturalized/sacralised order and hierarchy, where the source of power and legitimacy lay in a transcendent ‘beyond’, were subject to their own modes of (unthematized) reification, and therefore, (implicit forms of) alienation. Thus, the rearticulation of human emancipatory possibilities, which can accommodate irreversible disenchantment, (or the negativity inherent in critical-reflective distance), must take the form of the recovery/renewal of an unalienated mode of existence, from within a non-reified modernity. The study begins by posing a question regarding our contemporary situation—why are we witnessing the resurgence of various forms of xenophobic nationalism, and the re-emergence of narrow, pre-modern solidarities along religious or ethnic lines, precisely when globalized, finance-driven capital is purportedly breaking down the traditional territorial and cultural boundaries of the nation-state? It elaborates this tension inherent in the present, by taking into consideration aspects of the arguments presented by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri in Empire (2000), as well as by Benedict Anderson in Imagined Communities (1983), while critiquing both. Whereas Hardt and Negri emphasize the supra-national tendencies of capital (captured in the de-territorialized sovereignty of ‘empire’), Anderson emphasizes the continued existence of nations and territorial boundaries. Yet, the present juncture is marked by both these tendencies, that is, both universalism (in the economic and juridical-normative domains) and particularism (nationalist parochialism). I argue that thinking of these tendencies as mutually opposed and exclusive, leads to an impasse both on the economic and political front, constitutive of contemporary capitalist modernity. More broadly, it results in a reified conception of modernity, which is the source of contemporary alienation. The latter then manifests itself in the regression to various pre-modern, parochial forms of identification and identity. This calls for a revised understanding of the present—one which does not merely emphasize one set of processes (universalistic tendencies), to the exclusion of the other (particularistic tendencies), but can account for their simultaneous co-existence. I account for this co-existence by arguing for their mutually constitutive co-dependence. By showing how the nation-state is essential to the wide-spread implementation of neo-liberal economic policies, I introduce the notion of hegemony (of the latter), as a possible, initial explication of this co-dependence. I take up this problematic in a concrete sense, through an analysis of the historical emergence of nationalist consciousness, and the ‘nation’, as a new, specifically modernist form of identity and political formation. It seems obvious that the modalities of nationalist consciousness and the conception of the nation itself, must differ depending on the historical and geographical contexts of their birth. That is, the birth of the nation state in the West, usually traced to the Westphalian peace treaties (1648) in Europe, and its emergence through the colonial encounter and anti-colonial struggle in Asia and Africa, in the 19th and 20th centuries, cannot be exactly the ‘same’ in their form, and certainly not, in their ‘content’. Yet, they do share certain continuities of form, arising from the universalizing tendencies inherent in capitalism, that give rise to colonial expansion, anti-colonial struggles, and the affirmation of nationalist consciousness/identities, on the part of the colonized. I elaborate these claims through an examination of Ernest Gellner’s Nations and Nationalism (1983) and Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities (1983), to compare and critique their analyses concerning the emergence of the ‘nation’. I show that Gellner does not take the ‘universal’ (both in its ‘structural’ and ‘normative’) dimension, inherent in capitalism too seriously. Thus, he does not see the close interconnection between the emergence of capitalist modernity, the rise of modern ‘nation-state’ (in Europe) and colonialism, preferring instead to restrict his analysis to an empirical level. Anderson in contrast, does take the normative dimension of ‘universality’ into account in his idea of the nation as an ‘imagined community’, only to rigidly fix its structural aspect in a ‘modular’ form that first arises in Europe, and is then transplanted to other parts of the world, through the colonial encounter. I discuss Partha Chatterjee’s critique of Anderson’s ‘modularity thesis’, in relation to the emergence of nationalist consciousness in post-colonial ‘imaginations’, in his The Nation and its Fragments (1993). I argue that the colonial encounter cannot be understood either on the ‘modular’ conception, or on Chatterjee’s ‘inner-spiritual’ and ‘outer-material scientific’ divide and the communitarian alternative that, he thinks, flows from it. Rather, its processive movement (which Chatterjee captures, but interprets differently) reveals the ‘inner dialectic’ (where Chatterjee’s conception of the inner-outer can be accommodated terms of the ‘unhappy consciousness’ phase that emergent self-consciousness goes through) constitutive of the nationalist consciousness that emerges in colonized subjects, in and through the struggle for independence. This incremental critique of Gellner’s, Anderson’s, and Chatterjee’s positions clears the decks for rethinking the possibility of unalienated forms of co-existence under conditions of modernity. That is, without taking recourse to various, ultimately pre-modern, sacralized conceptions of ‘community’, understood as modernity’s suppressed ‘other’. One such articulation of the ‘conditions of possibility’ of an unalienated form of life, which attempts to accommodate modernist disenchantment, is represented by Akeel Bilgrami’s work. Bilgrami shows how the tension between ‘liberty’ and ‘equality’, running through the Enlightenment, becomes the defining feature of modern liberal-democratic (and capitalistic) societies and cannot be resolved within it. This sets up the basic coordinates within which an unalienated form of society, in a modern, desacralized sense, must be thought. For, such a society must be able to reconcile the tension between ‘liberty’ and equality, which hitherto have always been thought in an oppositional sense, that is, as an opposition between individual liberty and collective equality. In his essay, Gandhi (and Marx) (2014), Bilgrami, in a two-step argument, first prepares the ground for an alternative, modernist form of unalienated life by bringing to light the contingent ‘hegemony’ of late capitalism. By tracing the historical and intellectual genealogy of capitalist modernity, and how it impinged on emergent nationalist consciousness in India under colonial rule, Bilgrami underscores both the historically, and rationally contingent character of the capitalist form that modernity takes. Yet, its contingency is not seen as such. That is, capitalism appears not as one possible configuration of modernity (that was ‘in fact’ realized) among other, equally historically and rationally viable possibilities (that, it so happened, were not realized), but as ‘objective’ (universal, rational) ‘reality’. Yet, I argue that on the one hand, the historically extant alternative visions that Bilgrami invokes (Levelers and Diggers, Gandhi), involve a sacralized conception of nature and of the human (and are therefore, not really ‘modernist’, but invoke a certain nostalgia for the pre-modern past). On the other, insofar as his rational, counterfactual argument, based on ‘opportunity costs’ remains a primarily negative critique of the rational argument (based on social contract) for capitalism (the rational justification of the privatization of the commons), it does not sufficiently account for the skeptical consequences inherent in the notion of ‘contingent hegemony’. In other words, it does not address the possibility that these skeptical consequences end up undercutting not only the claim to the (rational) universality of capitalist social organization, but also that of any alternative conception of modernity based on universal reason, understood in its positive institutional-social configuration. Bilgrami’s argument ends up affecting a split between reason and history that is in keeping with the tendency towards empiricization, where the movement of history, and specifically the socio-political domain, becomes nothing but an endless series of contestations and provisional victories (in the form of a temporary hegemonic consensus). To mitigate these skeptical effects of empiricization/particularism, I turn to the dialectical model of thought which emphasizes the movement of history through the movement of determinate negation, which is itself based on the processive character of reification. Through the latter, the universal dimension of rationality inherent in the historical emergence of modernity comes to be ‘reduced’ to the capitalist form of society on the one hand, and inseparable from it, the techno-scientific understanding of nature on the other. Such reduction, constitutes the source of our alienation in relation to others, and to ‘nature’. I trace this sense of alienation and its basis in reified modernity, via the ‘disenchantment’ of nature and of human relations, brought about through the historical trajectory and shape that modernity comes to take in the Enlightenment. I elaborate the imbricated historicities of the techno-scientifically mediated conception of ‘nature’ (as disenchanted), and the capitalist form of social organization (which permits the fullest manipulation and exploitation of ‘disenchanted’, quantified nature), through a discussion of Hegel’s Husserl’s, Heidegger’s, and Adorno’s and Horkheimer’s writings. Once this idea of a reified modernity determined by the capitalistic and techno-scientific framework, is established, it brings to the fore the question of the possibility of an ‘alternative unalienated form of modernity’. Yet, on the one hand, as I noted, such a recovery cannot mean a return to a pre-modern, sacralized conception of community and nature, since these forms of existence involve their own unreflective modes of reification, (in terms of deified, hence, ‘naturalized’ social hierarchies etc.), and therefore, unthematized modes of alienated existence. On the other, it cannot entail an orientation which, either in the present or in the future, attempts to restore or realize the immediacy of the ‘real’ (a ‘metaphysics of presence’) in the objective-universal sense (conceived either as ‘material’ or ideal-rational reality), specific to reified modernity. From an epistemological perspective, such immediacy (presence) is ruled out in principle—as varied philosophical traditions, from transcendental idealism, phenomenology, hermeneutics, deconstruction etc. have argued. But, in a related sense, it is also critiqued from a political-normative perspective, insofar as the attempt to realize the impossible ideal/telos of a ‘society without antagonisms’, leads to a totalizing conception, which can have totalitarian consequences—a charge often brought against communist societies, which are said to exemplify a reified, distinctly modernist form of totalitarianism. Thus, the task of articulating an ‘alternative conception of modernity’, in and through the articulation of unalienated existence, calls for a ‘non-reified’ account of modernity. More precisely, as I elaborate in my reading of Marx, since the process of reification is inevitable (due to our spatio-temporal finitude, as Kant had already shown) it calls for an account where this process is reflectively and institutionally acknowledged, and thus rendered ‘harmless’ (echoing the Kantian sense of the term in the Transcendental Dialectic ) that is, where the institutionalized modes of such reflective acknowledgment circumvent the deleterious consequences of reification. Insofar as this task is explicitly political, it gives rise to further issues concerning the very possibility and scope of political-emancipatory projects. I trace these issues to universalistic and particularistic tendencies in the political domain. I noted how, when seen merely as contradictory, or mutually exclusive, the universalistic and particularistic orientations result in the reification of modernity, and in the economic and political impasses that flow from such reification. On the political front, the impasse manifests itself in the perpetual back and forth movement between politics conceived as merely empirical, that is, as an endless game of conflicts and provisional hegemonic formations in the name of the universal; and as making genuinely universal claims based on ‘justice’, or as the historical struggle/‘progress’ towards the realization of a ‘universally’ just, non-hierarchical, equal society. In contrast, I show that these particularistic and universalistic tendencies are mutually constitutive in a dialectical sense. How the mutual dependence and interconnection between the ‘particular’ and the universal in the political sphere, and therefore, the notion of dialectics itself, is to be understood, is the subject of debate between Judith Butler, Ernesto Laclau and Slavoj Žižek in their book— Contingency, Hegemony, Universality (2000). I analyze this debate, and focus on Butler’s notion of a ‘universal in becoming’, as an elaboration of the constitutive relation between the particular and universal within the political, and thus, of the recovery and articulation of a non-reified modernity. The notion of a ‘universal in becoming’ raises further conceptual and ‘practical’ issues. Are appeals to ‘universality’ (the appeals to justice, rights etc.) that articulate contemporary politics, appeals to a ‘ contingent universality’ (as Laclau contends), constituted by projecting particular claims as apparently universal, but which come to acquire legitimacy only by acquiring hegemony ? Or can political claims and struggles be articulated by a universality that remains explicitly empty—devoid of determinate content, hence a processive universal always in becoming, and it is this very emptiness that constitutes its normative legitimacy, as both Butler and Žižek argue, although in different ways? I address this problem through a return to the writings of Marx and Hegel, which form the background of this debate. In returning to Marx and Hegel, I underscore the centrality of the dialectic for explicating how the notion of a ‘universal in becoming’, plays out in the in the domain of political economy. However, with this return, the dialectic is no longer restricted to the present—to the oscillation between the particular and the universal constitutive of the impasse of the political in contemporary, reified modernity. Rather, I take up the notion of the dialectic in its historical movement, in order to provide a revised interpretation of both Marx’s (and Hegel’s) positions. This revision shows how Hegel’s theoretical conception of ‘absolute knowing’, and Marx’s political-normative project of overcoming (capitalist) alienation (and the realization of unalienated existence), does not culminate in the dead-end of absolute self-presence. That is, it does not entail the ‘end of history’, where the ‘subject’ and ‘object’ of history finally come together in reflective self-coincidence, in a society fully transparent to itself—without antagonisms, difference etc. Instead, I argue that since reification is inevitable, (Hegel’s and) Marx’s position cannot amount to the overcoming of reification (in reflective self-coincidence or transparency) but to its reflective acknowledgement, an acknowledgement that is institutionally realized in post-capitalist, unalienated society. In other words, I show how the post-Marxist, post-modern critique of Marx, based on the claim that he succumbs to a ‘metaphysics of presence’ conflates the processes of reification and alienation. Marx’s aim is to overcome capitalist alienation, but this does not entail overcoming (structural) reification. This interpretation provides fresh impetus to the ‘universalistic’ dimension of the political, thus, to the possibility of universal political-emancipatory projects, in the face of the hegemony of the capitalist form of reified modernity. In the final part of the study, I further explicate this universalist dimension, qua ‘universal in becoming’, by turning to Adorno’s notion of ‘ negative dialectics ’. Through a discussion of this idea, against the background of the Hegelian (and Marxian) conception of dialectics in our revised sense (not merely as ‘determinate negation’, as Adorno insists), I bring to light points of continuity (despite Adorno’s critique of Hegelian dialectics), between the two conceptions. The negative element of the dialectic (movement of thought), that is, a dialectic that does not culminate, each time, in a determinate negation, or assert ‘the identity of identity and non-identity’, but stays in the moment of negativity, that is ‘points beyond its own identifying movement’, amounts to a reflective awareness of our own finitude. It indicates the ‘non-closure’ of the social, from within the social, and not as (empirical) contingency etc. In other words, as Adorno, explicating the ‘double bind’ in relation to social, argues, Marx’s critique of ‘identity’ qua equivalent exchange under capitalism, does not aim at abolishing that equivalence as a ‘matter of fact’. For, not only is form/identity inescapable in principle, but a return to earlier ‘forms’ of non-equivalence/non-identity would reinstate the injustice inherent in those earlier societies. Rather, as Adorno asserts, it aims at making the “inequality within equality” visible, and thus, “aims at equality too”. When we criticize the barter principle as the identifying principle of thought, we want to realize the ideal of free and just barter. To date, this ideal is only a pretext. Its realization alone would transcend barter. Once critical theory has shown it up for what it is—an exchange of things that are equal yet unequal—our critique of inequality within equality aims at equality too […]. If no man had part of his labour withheld from him anymore rational identity would be a fact, and society would have transcended the identifying mode of thinking. (Adorno, 2003, 147) Therefore, the basic principle of negative dialectics, including the “double bind” inherent in it, that Adorno indicates, also holds for post-capitalist society. The difference, in relation to capitalism, as I have underscored, lies in reflective thematization of this necessary intertwinement and movement between identity and non-identity. In other words, ‘inequality’/non-identity becomes discernible only from within the seeming ‘totality’/’closure’ of ‘equality’, of equivalent exchange; and yet, the critique that uncovers ‘inequality within equality’ also ‘aims at equality’—in the sense that the recognition of inequality cannot remain in the negative moment of critique, but must take the ‘positive form’ of the realization of equality as a “matter of fact”. Therefore, the basic principle of negative dialectics, including the “double bind” inherent in it, that Adorno indicates, also holds for post-capitalist society. The difference, in relation to capitalism, as I have underscored, lies in reflective thematization of this necessary intertwinement and movement between identity and non-identity. In other words, ‘inequality’/non-identity becomes discernible only from within the seeming ‘totality’/’closure’ of ‘equality’, of equivalent exchange; and yet, the critique that uncovers ‘inequality within equality’ also ‘aims at equality’—in the sense that the recognition of inequality cannot remain in the negative moment of critique, but must take the ‘positive form’ of the realization of equality as a “matter of fact”. This, Adorno writes, “comes close enough to Hegel”. The difference with respect to Hegel lies in the direction of ‘intent’ of negative dialectics. The latter does not, theoretically or in practice, maintain the primacy of identity—claim that identity is ‘ultimate’ or ‘absolute’ in a final reconciliation (of identity and difference, universality and particularity etc.) that constitutes the telos of the dialectical unfolding of reason. Rather, for negative dialectics, “[…] identity is the universal coercive mechanism, which we, too, finally need , to free ourselves from universal coercion, just as freedom can come to be real only through coercive civilization, not by way of any “Back to nature””. (Adorno 2003, 147) In the book my endeavor also has been to open up the space of non-identity within identity, in order to (re)imagine a different world, a world where freedom (in noncoercive identity/equality) becomes a “matter of fact”. By reaffirming the possibility of the political in this specific sense of a ‘universal in becoming’ that is, one which involves neither a return to some pre-modern sacralized conception, nor to a reified modernist conception of universality qua ‘presence’, I bring to light the possibility and scope of an unalienated mode of existence from within the modernist tradition. The central claim that I make is that the recovery of unalienated existence in this modernist sense, implies an acknowledgement of our finitude and dependence, with respect to nature and to each other. This reflective realization of our finitude is nothing but the acknowledgement of the ‘double bind’ (oscillation between relative and absolute difference, negativity etc.) in which we are always caught. I attempt to show, how Marx’s vision of a post-capitalist society amounts to an institutional acknowledgement our finitude in this specific sense of the ‘double bind’, to which the movement of thought/reason is subject. It is in this sense therefore, that the recovery of an alternative, non-reified conception of modernity, covered over in the course of the historical emergence of contemporary modernity and the reified form it takes, must be understood. References Adorno, T. W. (2003). Negative Dialectics . New York, London: Continuum. Anderson, B. (2006). Imagined Communities . New York, London: Verso. Bilgrami, A. (2014). Secularism, Identity and Enchantment . Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. Butler, J. (2000) “Restaging the Universal: Hegemony and the Limits of Formalism”. In, Butler, J., Laclau, E., Zižek, S., Contingency, Hegemony, Universality: Contemporary Dialogues on the Left . New York, London: Verso Chatterjee, P. (1993). The Nation and its Fragments: Colonial and Post-colonial Histories . New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Gellner, E. (1983). Nations and Nationalism . Ithaca: Cornell University Press Hardt, M., and Negri, A. (2000). Empire. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. Husserl, E. (1970). The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Philosophy . Evanston: Northwestern University Press.

  • Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Richa Shukla | IPN

    Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Richa Shukla Richa Shukla Assistant Professor, IIT Bhubhaneswar Book Review # Nov 13, 2023 Book review of Muzaffar Ali's India, Habermas and the Normative Structure of Public Sphere (Routledge, 2023) This text called India, Habermas and The Normative Structure of Public Sphere is an attempt by Muzaffar Ali, a contemporary Indian political philosopher, to make us revisit the hidden ambiguity behind Indian Public Sphere in reference to Habermas’s idea. He points to this ambiguity by making us think the public sphere is a space that makes us think and question. The book submits a proposition that public spheres and its institutions go hand in hand. He also mentions three criteria for calling a public space. I couldn’t help but notice a tension that Ali wants to point out between his method on how he would do Philosophy vs how ideally Indian philosophy has been done so far. The larger arguments reminded me of Hannah Arendt’s proposition while she discusses the nature of Philosophy, i.e., it's important to think about what we are doing in Philosophy.[1] The book consists of 5 chapters, excluding a preface and acknowledgements. It begins by pointing out a reflection as well as a theoretical concern on how the contemporary Indian situation is a possible glitch in the theorization of Habermas’s public sphere. Rather, it proposes ‘Samvada’, (संवाद) as a method of further analysis. The philosopher here submits that there is a coherence between contemporary Indian philosophy and Indian political theory which can very well be used to theorise the native idea of the Indian Public Sphere. It not only presents a picture of Habermas’s Public Sphere but also, brings in Indian philosophers, political theorists, and a few feminist scholars as well. The first part of the book dwells on a reflective theoretical need: Can we ever think of a native theory of the Indian Public Sphere? The book attempts to not only answer this theoretical concern but also create a 'theoretical toolbox' [2] for the same. Additionally, it revisits and re-reads old debates in Indian political theory and Indian philosophy. This, Ali suggests, can help us in rebounding the normative foundations of the Indian Public Sphere. I couldn’t help but notice that the book takes a good philosophical lurk from the past, present and future of the Indian public sphere in terms of establishing theoretical discourses. It makes an attempt to understand the timeline behind these discourses. The book concerns how one can do Indian political theory considering we no longer can use Western frameworks as it's incapable of capturing Indian reality. He has referred to political thinkers like, Aakash Singh Rathore, Gopal Guru, Sundar Sarukkai, Aditya Nigam and many others to set the theoretical tone of Indian political theory. For instance, along the lines of these thinkers, he argues that we need to understand the audience, the Indian audience horizontally as well, as so far, we have been burdened by the Western way of doing Indian Philosophy. We have been colonised in our approach to Indian Philosophy at times. While he re-visits the concept of ‘Samvada’ in this manner, I couldn’t help but draw a parallel between this and Upanishad saying: वादे वादे जायते तत्त्वबोधः which implies that it's through diverse opinions that we get to know the truth. The book while, analysing Habermas’s concept of the public sphere, critically analyses key elements from the Indian domain as well whether it's the Indian debates on religion, caste, lived experience or the corporeal body. He writes, "The conceptualized Indian situation throws up two essential markers regarding the inadequacy of the Habermasian public sphere. At the social level, the hyper-presence of religion within Indian society needs a multi-pronged instrument of public debate rather than a unilateral notion of rationality to shoulder real and true public opinion."[3] At a time when globally, the phenomenology of the public sphere is altering, this text makes a few pertinent interventions while keeping in mind Indian lived realities. While trying to establish caste as a ‘unique public lived reality’, one can look at movies like Article 15, Mulk, Sairaat, Masaan and shows like Made in Heaven , Kota factory , and Class which capture the Indian essence and the complicated relationship which we share between religion, caste and Indian public sphere. Ali looks at religion as an important aspect of India’s social context. He establishes that the role of religion cannot be underestimated in evaluating the political and social contexts of Indian societies. This has been established by drawing from political thinkers like B.R. Ambedkar, and Valerian Rodrigues. In the Indian domain, while deconstructing caste and religion, Gopal Guru argues the same.[4] He writes caste has wings, it can fly, and that’s why it reaches a place before we reach it. These aspects have lived experience to their credit too. I could think of Feminist Philosopher, Simone de Beauvoir’s description of lived experience, in her book, The Ethics of Ambiguity . She takes the example of glue and paper. The way we put paper on glue and it becomes impossible to separate them, in a similar manner, it's impossible to detach 'lived experience', from human existence and our social reality. The book walks on a thin rope of some pertinent theoretical concerns, visible criticism of Habermas’s concept and an alternative that Ali is trying to provide for the same. [1] Dolan, M. Frederick. "Arendt on Philosophy and Politics". https://philarchive.org/archive/DOLAOP [2] Term used by Ali for the same. [3] Ali, India, Habermas And The Normative Structure of Public Sphere , page no. 111. [4] Guru, Gopal. "Dalits from Margin to Margin." India International Centre Quarterly , 27: 111-116.

  • Back to Liberal Basics | IPN

    Back to Liberal Basics Danish Hamid PhD Scholar, Department of HSS , IIT Bombay Article # Feb 22, 2022 This article is part of the series of responses from philosophers on the hijab row . First a story, or what we like to call pretentiously – a thought experiment. Imagine that two brothers, Ravi and Vijay have ventured on a camping trip with a group of friends. They are all near the same age, there being no hierarchy between them. While walking through the forest, Vijay indulges his habit of plucking a single leaf from every low-hanging tree that he comes across. Ravi asks Vijay what he is doing. Of course, he can see what he is doing. What Ravi means is that he must explain his actions as being something worthwhile, sensible, and which someone might have a reason to do. In other words, ‘better give a good reason for doing this, or else, Stop.’ Is Vijay under any obligation to explain it to Ravi? I think not, unless he wants to. The others in the group agree with him. Ravi then turns back to Vijay and asks him to justify it, or offer an excuse for what he is doing. Now, “unlike explanations, justifications and excuses presume at least prima facie fault, a charge to be rebutted”. (Benn, 87) Is Vijay under an obligation to offer a justification for his innocent indulgence? After all, what’s so wrong about plucking a leaf every now and then? And it is not as if he was trespassing in a grove of threatened, near-extinct plants and trees, and neither is Ravi the resident Forest Officer, and last they checked, it was not a crime in any of the books of law. Such being the case, Vijay has “no obligation to meet a challenge to justify his performance until there is a charge to answer”. (ibid) Suppose, however, that in his capacity as an enterprising vigilante on behalf of Chlorophyll everywhere, Ravi decides to handcuff Vijay, thereby preventing him from his indulgence. Now, Vijay can properly demand a justification from him, and a mere ‘tu quoque’ reply (literally – ‘you also!’) that Vijay, on his part had also not offered Ravi a justification for plucking leaves, would just not fly. This is because Vijay’s actions had done nothing to interfere with Ravi’s. “The burden of justification falls on the interferer, not on the person interfered with” (ibid). So while Vijay might properly resent Ravi’s interference, Ravi has no ground of complaint against Vijay. Suppose now that the priggish Ravi does come up with a justification. Vijay, he says, is wasting his time – instead of pointless leaf-plucking, he could be doing something useful - helping the group plan the adventure, or listening to an ebook, or entertaining everyone with the song “Keh duun tumhe”. But, of course, Vijay doesn’t have to accept this justification for interference. Even if Ravi were right, and Vijay could have been doing something useful, what has it to do with Ravi? “An unfavorable evaluation of someone else's action does not necessarily warrant one's interfering to prevent it.” (ibid) The upshot for the Hijab Case – or any analogous case of interference Now, this story, a fabricated mish-mash from Yash Chopra’s Deewar and Stanley Benn’s A Theory of Freedom (1988) , is supposed to convey a simple point. Volatile and non-conformist though Vijay is, he is under no requirement to demonstrate to Ravi that he has good reasons for doing what he was doing. On the other hand, it is required of the conscientious but self-righteous Ravi that he must justify his interference in Vijay’s actions. The two demands for justification are incommensurable so to speak, which is philosopher’s talk to mean that they are not equal or equivalent and thus cannot be spoken of synonymously in any meaningful way. This is the most minimum, yet characteristic claim in liberal political thought – that unless your act is harming someone, nobody has a right to interfere in your actions, or prevent you from carrying them out. What constitutes harm in a given situation will be a job of a 500 page book by someone like Joel Feinberg in which the political philosopher will flesh out all her claims, followed by replies to all anticipated objections and counter-responses by other philosophers. How fun! However, this basic commitment of non-interference, if not an axiom in liberal political philosophy, is still something incredibly intuitive accepted by nearly all liberal political thoughts and its off-shoots, including modern day conservatives, socialists, many feminists, etc. It would just require a very strong argument to refute, and in the Hijab case, no one has offered any persuasive arguments yet. John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty is still the best place to begin thinking about this problem, and a fine example of philosophical writing where the writer anticipates many well worn counter-arguments and writes with characteristic verve. The upshot of this for the Hijab controversy should be clear enough. The Hijab is seemingly a harmless piece of clothing. To prevent women, or in this case specifically, pupils and teachers from wearing it to school would require a justification. Thus, the Preventers ought to justify why there ought to be no Hijabs in school. The Wearers, Donners, Hijabis, have to offer no justification on the liberal view that I laid out above, unless of course the Wearers, Donners, Hijabis, have themselves been forced to wear it (Some, primarily feminist thinkers, include conditioning and socialization also as reasons sufficient enough to question the Hijab. But very few go to the extent of supporting state coercion to wish to remove it). For the Preventers, matters complicate further when they want to single out Hijab over other religious symbols – the most obvious case being turbans sported by Sikh boys and men. But States are Special?! My readers might question me and say that I am misrepresenting the issue, and that the story I have related doesn’t fit the facts of the Hijab controversy. In my story, the characters are equal, there being, recall, ‘no hierarchy between them’. Those are not the facts in the Karnataka Hijab controversy. The state has decided that Hijabs are impermissible. The State is unlike Ravi and Vijay. Is the state, per me, under an obligation to provide any reasons of the sort that Ravi was sought to provide? Now we are in the realm of what Jeremy Waldron calls political Political theory – the nature of state and governmental institutions, political representation, accountability, secularism, the separation of church and state, and the rule of law. Explicating the limits and confines of state power, its relation with religion, with minorities, with religious minorities – that’s another 500 page book. What a fun topic – but certainly what a short article like this would hesitate to go into. It seems obviously true that a State is a different kind of animal, and certainly not like individuals. So while it isn’t OK for me to demand protection-money from you in exchange for protection, the state manages to collect taxes, and on my refusal to pay, may even fine me, or attach my properties, or send me to prison. So the State is special, apparently, and states have rights to make coercive laws and force individuals to do things which other individuals just don’t have. But this is too quick. Maybe the State has the power to do this, in exchange for protecting citizens' rights (and enforcing contracts, and preventing crime, and increasingly in the 20th century, in providing, healthcare, education, even jobs) because citizens agree that the state may be given these powers, along with all the corresponding duties, all neatly enshrined in a constitution, backed by the constituent power of the people. This doesn’t automatically mean that the State has the power to interfere in my personal life – what I eat, what I wear, who I worship, who I sleep with. Furthermore, it takes no philosopher to see that the State doesn’t speak in its own impersonal voice. It usually speaks in the voice of the Parliament, a legislative body, or occasionally the courts. On what grounds ought the Parliament decide an issue? Well, many, if not most liberals, would insist that any coercive rule argued for by any individual, or group which speaks for a proposition in the Parliament (from Parler. French, literally ‘talk shop’) ought to be based on a reason which is not sectarian, biased, or idiosyncratic in such a way that it is not acceptable to or justifiable, to all those persons over whom the rule is going to have authority. In a modern democracy, where free and equal citizens disagree with each other over profound or profane matters, including morals, religion, economics, and what constitutes the ‘good life’, how shall any moral or political limits be placed on us? The answer that is usually given by a version of liberalism called justificatory liberalism, is that any such imposition should be justified by an appeal to ideas, values, arguments that all those persons who are affected by said coercive rule, might be able to reasonably accept or endorse. Variations, qualifications, additions on this basic idea, will be a subject of, you guessed it, some more massive tomes by Rawls, Wolterstorff, Eberle, Talisse and other brilliant philosophers. The unsuccessful evasion of Philosophy So, philosophers might bring their tools to dissect and explore all these questions, and make us all the wiser about how the relationship between state, the individual and religious symbols in the public sphere all hang together, and some philosophers have offered to do in the (web)pages on this very network. But some others might suggest that in the interest of time and considering how disputatious philosophers are, there is no need to enter philosophical discussion in the first place. They might suggest that we ought to look instead at the nature of the Indian Constitution, its own version of secularism, the state of case-law and the practice of the Supreme Court. What do the courts say, and how to they decide these issues? What does the Constitution say? It is that document and no other that ought to tell us what the correct answer to this quandary is. So what does the Constitution say? Pertinent to this issue, a cursory look at the state of Indian Constitutionalism will tell us that it promises to its citizens the rights to equality, freedom of expression, right to life with dignity, and many others, while also giving the centre and state right to make laws such as the Karnataka Education Act. The truth is that whether the anti-philosophers like it or not, in deciding a question like this, the court will also have to dip into philosophical complexities. It will have to either balance the rights of the States and the individual (if that is meaningfully possible), or it will have to uphold the right of one party and not the other. In doing that, it will have implicitly and inevitably made a decision about which rights it deems inviolable. So as with everyone else, even the court will have to argue philosophically. One can do it well, and one can do it badly. And the truth is that, these questions are hard. So we might want to be humble, and err on the side of caution, and not be very confident in our considered opinions, to say nothing about our pre-reflective prejudices. The liberal view, I suggest, does just that. It keeps the peace, while seeking to protect the rights of all. And it often succeeds! Where do I stand? After this short explainer (written especially for non-philosophers), it should be obvious that on this Hijab issue, and any such issue where social or state interference prevents individuals from exercising their choice, I come down, unapologetically, on the side of the liberal principle. For me, Mill’s harm principle is not the last word on such matters, but it still ought to be first word. And therefore, I have to come down on the side of those who say that the girls have the right to wear the Hijab to school. I am not particularly invested in what the Muslim women in question choose to do eventually. They owe me or anyone else no explanations. In fact, I go even further. I do not like the mandate of uniforms. Sure, uniforms may have a useful purpose if they help channel the energies of pupils towards education, sport and play, and help them along in the direction of healthy socialization, instead of displaying the stark divides in wealth and incomes. On the flip side, they do seem to privilege regimentation and obedience over spontaneity and creative self expression. Be that as it may, in accordance with my liberal sympathies, I don’t agree that even these goods that I mentioned above are enough reason to force me to conform to uniforms, any uniforms (!), if I don’t want them. The reason you don’t see me (and many others like me) on the streets demonstrating against uniforms is perhaps because it doesn’t seem worth all the trouble, and frankly, a uniform isn’t egregious after all. I don’t like it in principle, but I’m willing to tolerate it. I’d prefer there weren’t any, but they don’t warrant a rebellion. [That’s the problems with us liberals, we did all the protesting we had to hundreds of years ago, when feudal and monarchical power didn’t respect our (liberal) rights to live, liberty and property, err...the pursuit of happiness. Now we wake up only when these rights are threatened...which is happening a little bit too often these days.] Between pragmatism and principle But I digress. There is a time to discuss the perils and benefits of uniforms. But this is not that time. Because the issue here is not merely about uniforms. If it were, then teachers wouldn’t have been seen removing Hijabs outside school premises before entering their classes (a scene which many onlookers have described as humiliating). This issue is after-all a conflict between religious self-expression and the right to education. Moreover, the mandate on ‘ uniform uniforms’ is sure to come a cropper, as soon as we consider other religious symbols such as the Turban. Considering that the mandate is soon to encompass the religious expression of other communities, in a country as diverse as India, one wonders whether an order like this is even rational. More importantly, to put a portion of a religious community in the unenviable position of having to choose between religious expression and education is prima facie unjust. In order to navigate around the above problem, we have seen recourse to pragmatic solutions in the past – such as that the courts shall decide whether a particular religious symbol is ‘essential’ to a particular religion. Now, given that different religious sects, trends, and tendencies in the same religion differ among themselves in their practices of reading, hermeneutical traditions, and their own debates of authority, it is difficult to see how even a constitutional court may be able to adjudicate on complex issues such as this. Anyone who knows anything about how scripture is interpreted is familiar with the deep and complex interpretive controversies, together with the demand of knowing the tradition in and out, along with expertise in a classical language, usually a dead one. What is essential to one sect is non-essential to another. I encourage readers to look up the case of Abdul Karim Shorish Kashmiri v The State of West Pakistan, where the Pakistani Court held that the legal process in incapable of determining the answer to the question ‘who is a Muslim?’, until this question was then determined by a Constitutional Amendment, leading to the change in the legal status of the Ahmadis from being Muslims to a non-Islamic religious minority. My own view is that Courts shouldn’t decide on such abstract issues of doctrine as what constitutes an essential practice, unless the rights of some individuals or vulnerable groups cannot be protected through any other means, or when the traditionalists are bent on abusing the rights of their congregants or other members of the community. Therefore, it is a mistake to go into the theological and scriptural niceties right now (or perhaps ever), about whether the Hijab is obligatory or optional in Islamic scriptures. What is important, however, is this Liberal minimum - that no organ of the state must interfere in the religious expression of a community as long as it doesn't harm people from another community or others within that religious community. Since no such prima facie case has been made, this rule appears coercive and oppressive. On the question of reform ‘Reform’ is a weasel word. What is reform to one section of a community is oppression and persecution for another. The liberal must take the principled stance against interference, without necessarily seeing every instance of it as morally pernicious per se. If an arm of the State is to be mobilized to protect the rights of those who do not wish to wear Hijab, and if this to be called ‘reform’, that is fair too, and that doesn’t by itself go against the principle of non-interference. However, if the reformist goal is the much ambitious one of ‘liberating’ Muslim, whatever that might mean, it is best that it must come from within the Muslim community itself, through dialogue, discussion, education. The truth is that only those who feel stifled by traditional authority and its imposition of Hijab will choose to call it reform. For many others, the word ‘reform’ is an affront against their avowal of religious identity. The state ought to protect those individuals who are harmed by those elements which seek to impose their view of the good life on them. But experience has shown that a purely statist ‘reformist’ interventions will only bury the problem and not solve it. The example of Ataturk’s and successive governments’ restraints on religious expression in the Turkish public sphere is right in front of us. As soon as political conditions in Turkey changed and the Erbakan- Erdogan Islamist governments came to power, Hijabs in a thousand flowery prints bloomed in Taksim Square. Therefore, one, the argument for coercive state intervention in this case needs to be very strong, and I haven't seen any one which I find persuasive. Two, even if those who wish to impose a Hijab-ban are right, their victory won’t be a permanent one. If they believe that educated, rational and reflective human beings would not wear a patriarchal relic like Hijab, they must allow girls to receive a good education, and one which inculcates critical thinking and see where the chips fall. The long march toward secular-reason Now, some might question me and say that the burden of my song has been to exonerate the Hijab, and its advocates. Quite the contrary. My position is that, as a non-Hijab donning man, it is not really my place to comment on the meaning of Hijab for many Muslim women. Although the more vocal among them have come for, against and even, believe it or not, for-and-against it. However, being a naive believer in the (liberal) dogma that correct opinions win out in the long term, if given enough breathing space and a conducive environment, I wish only to urge more discussion on the issue, which is not backed by the coercive arm of the state and the blunt instrument of the law. It seems to me that the correct (justificatory) liberal position is to let Muslim women decide. But what about the appeals to scripture, you may say. How can a liberal be pleased with a situation where religious people decide the issue invoking religious scripture, and speaking in a characteristically religious vocabulary? Well, one response is that ‘religious people, like all people, should get to decide what they want, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.’ That is the quintessential liberal claim. But this aside, there is an academic/historical question about the upshot of religious-style argumentation. I shall quote Jeffrey Stout on this point ...consider the early-modern debates among Christians of various types over moral and political questions. Here we have numerous groups, all of which were committed to treating the Christian Bible as an authoritative source of normative insight into how such questions should be answered. Yet they did not differ only on what this text says and implies. They also differed on who is entitled to interpret it, on whether it is the sole authoritative source of normative insight into such matters, and on who is entitled to resolve apparent conflicts between it and other putative sources of normative insight. Because they differed on all of these points, they eventually found themselves avoiding appeals to biblical authority when trying to resolve their ethical and political differences. The reason was simple; the appeals did not work. So the differing parties increasingly tried to resolve their differences on other grounds. In this respect, their ethical discourse with one another became secularized. (Stout, 93-4) Muslims, including both scholars and the laity, are increasingly coming towards discussions on all issues, about the proper role of religious, pietistic and rational or secular reasons in deciding all kinds of moral and ethical questions, and increasingly in the 20th Century the Muslim world is going through a similar process, that Stout has described above. The increasingly diverse conclusions that interpreters have come to after reading the verses that relate to, or at least seem to relate to something analogous to Hijab, tells us that in order to come to any sort of consensus on the topic, the discourse among Muslims themselves will have to eventually become secular, in that it will have to employ a vocabulary that doesn’t always invoke religious argument. Now, whether between all these competing tendencies it manages to reach a harmonious conclusion or merely a modus Vivendi, will be there for us to see. Regardless, statist interventions will only stifle this process of churning. If anything, the debate needs to be nudged along, not stopped. Unfortunately, in this case, it appears that some secular voices, and not religion, are becoming the conversation-stopper. And that is just not the ‘liberal’ thing to do. References Benn, Stanley. A Theory of Freedom, 1998. Cambridge University Press. Stout, Jeffrey. Democracy and Tradition, 2004. Princeton University Press ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Read other articles in this series: Ariba Zaidi -- A Word of Caution to 'the Uniformist' and 'the Reformist’ Danish Hamid -- Back to Liberal Basics Hina Mushtaq -- Can women decide for themselves? Sania Ismailee -- The Karnataka Hijab row is about Right to Education...

  • Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" | IPN

    Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" Vaishali Gahlyan Guest Faculty, Miranda House College, Delhi University Book Review # Jul 24, 2025 Book review of Shamik Chakravarty's Quick and Concise: Philosophy (Hachette India, 2025). Shamik Chakravarty’s A Quick and Concise Introduction to Philosophy is a refreshing and intellectually sincere attempt to bring philosophical reflection into accessible terrain. If one had to recommend a single text to ignite philosophical curiosity without intimidation, this would be it. I suggest, ‘A must-read for minds that wonder and wander’. While most beginner-level philosophy books shy away from topics like the philosophy of art and Skepticism, Chakravarti boldly includes them and this choice alone elevates the book above typical primers. Structured into accessible, argument-driven chapters, the book journeys through serious philosophical questions of metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, and aesthetics, always grounding abstractions in vivid thought experiments—from Descartes’ Evil Demon, the Brain-in-a-Vat to Gettier cases, Swampman, and Ship of Theseus. The author made a bold attempt to draw strong cross-cultural comparisons: Dharmakīrti and Gangesa are placed alongside Putnam, while Nāṭyaśāstra’s rasa theory dialogues with Beardsley’s aesthetic intention. Author’s style is conversational yet not condescending; technical without being arcane, prose is elegant without jargon, philosophical without pedantry. He invites readers not into dogma, but dialogue—an approach invaluable for pedagogy. And because of this approach, the book is equally useful for undergraduate classrooms, civil services preparation, high school students or general readers hungry for clarity without compromise. And yet, it does not oversimplify; each chapter ends with open questions, gently nudging the reader toward deeper reflection. That said, some limitations remain. The Indian perspectives, though sincerely integrated, often appear in passing—more like philosophical footnotes than equal interlocutors. Similarly, some dense conceptual debates (e.g., skepticism or personal identity) are outlined with brevity that may leave curious readers wanting more. The book’s analytic focus also leaves limited room for continental traditions, feminist ethics, or existential urgency. Nonetheless, as a pedagogical tool, it is a powerful asset: precise in exposition, economical in length, and dialogical in tone. The book doesn’t pretend to be exhaustive—but in what it does cover, it teaches philosophy as both a method and Praxis, which is the need of hour as so much work is going globally in Philosophical Praxis, also the book offers a blend of theory and practical examples evident in almost all the chapters. Chapter 1 is a well-crafted entry point, presenting philosophy as a rigorous discipline rooted in argumentation, logical clarity, and the courage to scrutinize our most basic assumptions. In rejecting the popular image of philosophers as mystics or self-help sages, the chapter reclaims philosophy as an intellectual craft—one that thrives on both deductive and inductive reasoning, and demands precision in thought. It offers a panoramic view of philosophy’s major domains—ethics, metaphysics, epistemology, mind-body theory, and even aesthetics— making it an ideal outset for the book. Ethical debates like abortion or capital punishment ground philosophy in real-world dilemmas, while metaphysics and epistemology confront timeless puzzles about reality, knowledge, and truth. The discussion of Sellars’s “manifest image” versus the “scientific image” is a highlight, dramatizing the tension between our lived, human experience and cold scientific reductionism. Yet despite its strengths, the chapter suffers from what might be called analytic parochialism . It offers a “constricted portrait” that privileges logical rigor over ethical seriousness, spiritual depth, or phenomenological insight. There is little room here for the Socratic imperative to “know thyself,” the existential urgency of Camus (who declared suicide the only serious philosophical question), or Foucault’s vision of philosophy as “a practice of self, of freedom, and of critique.” In its precision, the chapter excels. Chapter 2 succeeds in presenting a panoramic and intellectually rigorous account of how different philosophical traditions have addressed the meaning of life. Chakrabarti charts a philosophically ambitious journey through the terrain of life’s meaning—without ever pretending that there’s a single, satisfying destination. With admirable clarity, he juxtaposes the mythic defiance of Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus with the sober skepticism of Thomas Nagel ( The Absurd ), who sees absurdity not in cosmic indifference but in our very ability to reflect.Chakrabarti balances metaphysical rebellion with grounded responses—like Richard Taylor’s Good and Evil , where meaning stems from inner desire, and Susan Wolf’s Meaning in Life and Why It Matters , which offers a hybrid view: meaning lies in passionately engaging with “projects of worth.” Chakrabarti insightfully connects this to Aristotelian eudaimonia and Alasdair MacIntyre’s notion of narrative unity. However, it also raises unanswered questions: Can meaning be fully subjective? What is the standard for “worth”? Is cosmic purpose necessary or dispensable? In attempting to reconcile these views, the chapter not only educates but also invites readers into philosophy’s deepest and most personal question. As Viktor Frankl once wrote, “Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how’” (Frankl, 1946/2006). The chapter does not give us that ‘why’—but it does illuminate the many paths by which it might be found. Chapter 3 is a philosophically alive, critically engaged, and pedagogically effective treatment of morality and normative ethics. Chakrabarti does not simply explain theories; he animates them, juxtaposes them, and tests their limits. The chapter’s strength lies in its refusal to offer easy answers. Instead, it leaves the reader with better questions—and a sharpened moral imagination. The chapter begins with Cultural Relativism, using Ruth Benedict to challenge moral universalism, while critics like Bernard Williams and Mary Midgley raise tough questions about ethical paralysis and judgment across cultures. Psychological Egoism is dissected through the Lincoln piglet anecdote, exposing the fallacy of reducing all kindness to self-interest. With Utilitarianism, Chakrabarti tackles the ethical arithmetic of Mill and Singer, showing both its appeal and its dangers—especially when happiness outweighs justice. Kantian ethics then shifts the focus to duty, dignity, and the Categorical Imperative, with Onora O’Neill’s famine ethics offering a striking real-world application. Chakrabarti skillfully presents Aristotle’s Virtue Ethics as a character-centered approach to morality, weaving in Hursthouse’s nuanced take on abortion and the concept of phronesis . He enriches this non-western ethical tapestry by integrating Buddhist mindfulness too and later through Greene’s neuroscientific dual-process theory offers cognitive depth. The chapter avoids moral dogma, leaving us not with answers, but better tools—and deeper questions. One might wish for more engagement with feminist or care ethics, or with contemporary debates in metaethics, but given the scope and purpose of the book, these omissions are understandable. Chapter 4, plunges into one of philosophy’s most tantalizing riddles: Are we truly free, or just well-dressed puppets of causality? Beginning with the bold moral act of whistleblower Dinesh Thakur, Chakrabarti raises the stakes—our legal systems, moral responsibility, and self-respect hinge on the assumption of free will. But determinism quickly enters like a philosophical wrecking ball: if every action is causally determined, could we ever have done otherwise? Libertarianism is explored through the Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP), then refined via Robert Kane’s “self-forming actions” that emerge from internal moral conflict. Agent causation theorists like O’Connor and Kevin Mitchell offer naturalized views preserving responsibility within a scientific worldview. Chakrabarti presents compatibilism— especially Frankfurt’s model of second-order volitions—as a powerful alternative, showing how one can be morally responsible even without alternative options. Yet, through Susan Wolf’s “JoJo” case, he questions whether internal coherence suffices for freedom when autonomy itself is shaped by corrupt contexts. Libet’s neuroscience experiments raise empirical challenges, but Chakrabarti resists reductionism, referencing critiques and newer studies that uphold deliberation in complex decisions. The tension between determinism and moral accountability is not resolved here (nor could it be), but readers come away better equipped to understand the stakes and structure of the problem. And though the chapter could have further engaged with existential and Eastern views,still it stands as a philosophically rich and accessible map of one of philosophy’s most enduring dilemmas: Do we choose, or are we chosen by cause? In Chapter 5, Chakrabarti undertakes the most classical and intense epistemological question—what is knowledge?—with philosophical precision and pedagogical finesse. Beginning with the tripartite model of Justified True Belief (JTB), Chakrabarti clarifies the concepts of necessary and sufficient conditions, illustrating with sharp analogies and conditional logic. Yet the chapter’s intellectual pivot comes with Edmund Gettier’s 1963 challenge, which shattered JTB’s sufficiency through clever counterexamples, revealing how epistemic luck can satisfy all conditions yet still fall short of genuine knowledge. He then moves systematically through responses: the No False Lemmas approach fails under Feldman’s variation; Goldman’s Causal Theory is tested by the Fake Barn case, thus leading to discussions on externalism, this also reflects Williamson’s “safety” condition. Nozick’s Tracking Theory offers an elegant model but stumbles under Kripke’s red-green barn puzzle. The No Defeaters theory introduces a regress problem—how many defeaters can be defeated before knowledge collapses? Chakrabarti critically engages BonJour’s Clairvoyant Norman, challenging Reliabilism, and introduces Zagzebski’s “inescapability of Gettier problems”, which undermines all definitions separating justification and truth. A comparative turn brings in Dharmottara’s mirage and the Nyāya theory of pramāṇa, revealing striking parallels with modern causal and reliabilist accounts. The chapter closes with experimental philosophy, the figure of the Ideal Knower, raising doubts about whether knowledge can ever be fully defined. While the chapter masterfully unpacks epistemology but its structure mirrors the very fragmentation it critiques—layer after layer of fixes that never quite resolve the problem. Through examples, Eastern and Western traditions, and sharp critiques, Chakrabarti suggests that the real task may not be to define knowledge, but to understand why it resists final analysis. Chapter 6, confronts one of philosophy’s most enduring anxieties: How do we know anything about the external world? Through Descartes’ Evil Demon and the Brain-in-a-Vat thought experiment, he illustrates how epistemic closure—if you know p, and p entails q, you must know q—is turned against us. Timothy Williamson, however, rejects this fragility by treating knowledge as a fundamental mental state, immune to decomposition. The chapter surveys a rich tapestry of responses. G.E. Moore’s “Here is a hand” reverses the skeptic’s premise through modus tollens, asserting that if I know I have hands, I can’t be a BIV. Contextualists like Keith DeRose, David Lewis, and Stewart Cohen rescue knowledge claims by showing how epistemic standards shift with context. Meanwhile, Putnam’s semantic externalism collapses the skeptical scenario under its own logic—if you’ve always been a BIV, you can’t meaningfully assert it. Vogel’s Inference to the Best Explanation (IBE) refutes skepticism abductively: the Real-World Hypothesis explains our experience more simply than the Minimal Skeptical Hypothesis, invoking Occam’s Razor. Still, skeptics persist. Relevant Alternatives Theory (RAT), pioneered by Fred Dretske, narrows knowledge requirements— we need not rule out every fantastical alternative, only relevant ones. Chakrabarti draws brilliant parallels to Nyāya philosophers like Uddyotakara and Gangeśa, who also reject radical doubt unless specific defeating conditions ( bādhaka ) are present. Even Experimental Philosophy (x-phi) gets a voice, showing that lay intuitions often resist full-blown skepticism. While the chapter strikes a fine balance between analytic rigor and accessibility, it occasionally skims over unresolved tensions—especially around abductive reasoning and its philosophical limits. The chapter’s greatest strength lies in its intellectual restraint—it resists the temptation to offer premature closure—but this very openness leaves the reader wondering: is realism just the best story we can tell, or is it epistemically secure? Chapter 7, this expansive and provocative chapter examines the metaphysical enigma of personal identity. From Locke’s memory-based theory to Parfit’s psychological continuity and the soul theory’s spiritual roots, the chapter maps philosophical attempts to understand what makes us the same person over time. Through the iconic Teletransporter thought experiment, the reader confronts the clash between qualitative and numerical identity. Locke’s “Prince and Cobbler” case, Reid’s memory-gap objection, and Parfit’s q-memory innovation all test the viability of memory-based accounts. Shoemaker, Schechtman, and Butler deepen the debate with concerns over circularity and personality. Chakrabarti then surveys bodily and brain-based theories, presenting Bernard Williams’s torture cases and Olson’s animalism , while engaging the ethical dilemmas of Dissociative Identity Disorder. The split-brain studies of Sperry and Gazzaniga support the radical No-Self View , echoing Hume’s Bundle Theory and the Buddhist Nāgasena dialogue. Chakrabarti even includes the Soul Theory , but ultimately dismisses it as empirically vacuous. With references to MPD, feminist critiques, and metaphysical puzzles, the chapter leaves readers with a disquieting insight: perhaps identity is not a fixed entity—but a fluid, fragmented construction resisting neat philosophical closure. While most textbooks stop at ethics, knowledge, and metaphysics, Chakrabarti dares to ask: What is art? And more importantly— why does it matter? Chapter 8 is a masterful culmination of the book’s intellectual arc, taking the deceptively simple question on art and unfolding it into a profound philosophical investigation. From Plato’s suspicion of art as illusion to Aristotle’s rehabilitation of mimesis, the chapter begins by grounding readers in classical debates, different kinds of theories of art with their fundamental questions, only to subvert them with modern provocations. Opening with provocative examples like John Cage’s 4'33" and Duchamp’s infamous urinal ( Fountain ), Chakrabarti unsettles the reader immediately. What counts as art when silence or plumbing fixtures are exalted in galleries? Can a banana duct-taped to a wall (Cattelan’s Comedian ) command millions because of its context rather than content? From here, Chakrabarti traverses the aesthetic terrain with both classical insight and contemporary savvy. Beardsley’s definition—anchoring art in aesthetic experience—meets its match in Duchamp, who exposes the paradox of anti-aesthetic masterpieces, then moving fluidly from Bell’s formalism and Collingwood’s expressive theory. Danto’s conceptual theory picks up this thread: art isn’t just what we see, but the context and interpretation we attach to it. Dickie’s Institutional Theory follows suit, arguing that the “artworld” confers status. But what, then, of outsider art—like the haunting works collected by Hans Prinzhorn from psychiatric patients? Each theory is critically examined through vivid examples—Bruegel’s narrative art, Rothko’s abstraction, Duchamp’s urinal—and juxtaposed with cross-cultural insights like the Rasa theory of Indian aesthetics, the devotional art of India, which flourishes outside institutional validation? Crucially, this is a book with a conscience. It resists the temptation to offer easy Philosophical answers, and instead offers better questions and a mirror to thought itself: fallible, contested, and always in motion. Whether one is encountering philosophy for the first time or returning to its terrain anew, Chakrabarti’s work is both a reliable compass and a bold provocation. References Beardsley, M. C. (1958). Aesthetics: Problems in the Philosophy of Criticism . Harcourt, Brace. Frankl, V. E. (2006). Man’s Search for Meaning (I. Lasch, Trans.). Beacon Press. (Original work published 1946) Libet, B. (1985). Unconscious cerebral initiative and the role of conscious will in voluntary action. Behavioral and Brain Sciences , 8 (4), 529–566. Nagel, T. (1971). The absurd. The Journal of Philosophy , 68 (20), 716–727. Nāṭyaśāstra. (ca. 200 BCE–200 CE). Nāṭyaśāstra of Bharata . (See A. Rangacharya or M. Ghosh editions for scholarly citations). Philosophy Now. (n.d.). A magazine of ideas – covering beginner-friendly articles on ethics, art, and identity . https://philosophynow.org/ Putnam, H. (1981). Brains in a vat. In Reason, Truth and History (pp. 1–21). Cambridge University Press. Reid, T. (1785). Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man . (Reprint editions available from MIT Press and Liberty Fund). Sellars, W. (1963). Science, Perception and Reality . Routledge & Kegan Paul. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. (n.d.). Plato, Aristotle, Aesthetics, Knowledge, etc. https://plato.stanford.edu/ Williamson, T. (2000). Knowledge and Its Limits . Oxford University Press. Wolf, S. (2010). Meaning in Life and Why It Matters . Princeton University Press. Yale University. (n.d.). Introduction to Philosophy (PHIL 181) by Shelly Kagan. Open Yale Courses. https://oyc.yale.edu/philosophy/phil-181 Zagzebski, L. T. (1994). The inescapability of Gettier problems. The Philosophical Quarterly , 44 (174), 65–73.

  • Review of Meera Baindur's novel by Manish Sharma | IPN

    Review of Meera Baindur's novel by Manish Sharma Manish Sharma Assistant Professor, Kurukshetra University Book Review # Nov 24, 2023 Book review of Meera Baindur's Sharvay (Speaking Tiger, 2023) When it comes to women philosophers in India, Maitreyi, Gargi, Meera, and Sulabha come immediately to mind. However, these are little more than names, since their philosophies and lives are rarely discussed, let alone their teachings. We need stories of the women who devised wings, dared to take flight in the gusty winds of oppression, and sailed to otherwise forbidden heights. It is equally important to understand how they were bruised, how they grieved, and most importantly, how they failed. Sharvay is one such attempt that envisions the journey of a mixed caste (mishra varna) girl from the claustrophobic confines of a palace where she was born and brought up. The novel presents the concrete circumstances of the socio-cultural and historical setting of south-central India in the 8th century. It depicts the life of a human being of that era from one of the most vulnerable sections of its society and explores what it might be like for her to become a philosopher. Besides presenting the obstacles on the way to becoming a philosopher, the writer also suggests what kind of position that philosopher would take in the given situations. Spider Web around the Elephant Statue This novel explores the socio-economic circumstances from the viewpoint of a mishra varna woman. It was the era of Buddhist Rinpoche Padmasambhava, Sankara, and Dantidurga's uncle and successor, King Krishna. The story takes us through several locations, starting in the palace and concluding in a little town called Kolahalpur after passing through jungles and towns like Amravati. Born as a child of unknown parentage, Sharvay, the protagonist, was fostered by a woman in service of the Queen. She grew up alongside the haughty princess as herpeekadhari and socha-upcharika holding a silver spittoon in her hands for the princess to spit out her chewed betel leaves. Here, Sharvay shows first signs of curiosity as she wonders how the green leaves turn red upon chewing. However, her desire to learn was limited by her duties towards her mistress, the princess. She secretly stole knowledge as much as possible in circumstances that came her way accidentally. Since the pursuit and practice of knowledge were generally restricted. Even though all her faculties including her hands were growing more capable with time, she still wasn’t allowed to reach for anything beyond the spittoon. “Both Sharvay and Karmani grew within the palace like lengthening shadows in the setting sun”, writes Mansi (pen name used by Meera Baindur), depicting precisely the desolate condition of working women in a place. In the very beginning of the novel, Sharvay is shown preoccupied by the sight of a spider building a web across the large carving of an elephant on one of the pillars. And she thought, “Can a spider trap an elephant in a spider web?” In this metaphor, we may see that Sharvay was wondering about her fate. Would she, a feeble spider with her delicate web, tame and fetter the giant, elephant-like oppression of regime and social structures? Can she overcome the overarching constraints with her little efforts? The picture does not change much as Sharvay moves to a new town with the princess when the latter gets married, until she meets a fatal accident which proves to be a blessing in disguise. This accident freed her from the bondage of her mistress and the tethers of her previous identity as a mishra varna. She comes across an exciting chance to create a new identity, a new name, and a different role in life. So now, Sharvay was Kumbaja, an upper-caste woman and because she now found a foster father in a Vaidya, she was a healer and medicinal practitioner. Thereon, she finds a friend till her last in Bakumi, a partner in Madhavakara, and a guide in Tara (a Buddhist Bhikkhuni). The community of healers dwelling in the forest, of which her foster father was a part, saw frequent visits by travellers, healers, and philosophers. In the favoured social circumstances, she could chase after her long-drawn curiosities, although not without the challenges of being a woman. Gradually Sharvay learns and grows bold and ultimately starts to emit what she has absorbed. She embarks on a journey that tries to free knowledge from the stranglehold of a few and make it ubiquitous. Quest for Self-discovery In this novel, you'll be enthralled by a woman's bravery in defying all social conventions to venture into the uncharted realm of knowledge. You might discover that she can still get support from other women and forge an affiliation with them even under the direst of circumstances. This is the story of a woman's struggle, bravery, uncertain future, and release from the shackles of prevailing socioeconomic and cultural conventions. Sharvay embarks on a journey of philosophical development and lives her life with various identities and names to find integrity eventually. In the novel the issue of identity is raised when Sharvay wonders, “Why am I called 'peekadhari?'… Am I a person who does the work or has my work itself become me?" (Mansi, 2023, pp 98-99) No philosophy can remain untouched by the social, economic, and cultural circumstances of its time, rather these circumstances of the philosopher's life shape her philosophy. I have attempted to view this novel written by Mansi based on this thought. The beauty of the novel lies in its ability to depict the philosophical viewpoint through the protagonist's decisions and actions taken in different situations instead of relying on lengthy arguments. This novel will give you a taste of the famous philosophical debates called Shastrarthas and the influence of their patronage on their workings both from the public and the kings. If Shastrarthas were organized by public funding, they were under the pressure of being entertaining. However, if they were funded by kings’ money then they were influenced by the king’s religious or philosophical preference. The author expresses curiosity about having heard the names of numerous women philosophers in India's history but is unable to access their concrete lives and philosophical ideas. Hence, it becomes impossible to create a clear thought about their life choices and philosophies. In this novel, the author attempts to portray a clear image of one such female philosopher; how they would have dealt with the discourses and situations of their time. Freedom versus Social Structure At times, this novel reminds us of Sartre’s notion of freedom and suggests that humans always have the choice to be free. Let’s look at this line of the novel, “Every time she was called Peekadhari, she repeated 'Sarvamedhini' to herself. She wanted a name that described who she was and did not just represent what she did.” (Mansi, 2023, p.100) This way of thinking implies that, despite being in more impoverished circumstances, a person can overcome them by having the proper kind of self-image. In another instance, the debate between social conditions and the so-called spiritual awakening is raised in a very subtle way when the author comments on the working conditions of Sharvay, the peekadhari, and her adaptation to these conditions. The author writes: She had learned long ago that being mindful in these moments only caused her to be upset and angry. It was best to be mindless, except as needed to make her body obey other people's words. She had trained her mind to stay in an indifferent state. (Mansi, 2023, p.40) These lines hint towards what Erich Fromm calls 'the pathology of normalcy' which suggests that there are certain aspects in every society where pathological behaviour is normalized. In the above situation, being aware would be problematic for Sharvay as her working conditions do not allow it. Thus, while accepting the will to be free, the novel does not emphasize the unlimited capability of human freedom but rather suggests the limitations of freedom by the given choices. Moral Dilemma: Truth or Freedom? In this novel, along with accompanying Sharvay on her philosophical journey, you also set out on a philosophical journey of your own, reflecting on your obstacles, readiness, and mysteries. Numerous circumstances in her life would shock you and cause you to ponder. For me, this moment comes when Sharvay had to camouflage as an upper caste woman and as a man to participate in a debate on the truth and metaphysics. Let’s see her dilemma, when she talks to herself while hiding her caste from her saviours, "Should she tell these people everything and go back to her old life? Or should she be free now and take her steps into a new life, away from the limits of her past?" (Mansi, 2023, p.103) At this juncture, philosophical debates appear to be nothing more than a farce. It awakens us to our lack of ability to hear the truth. Many times, we turn a common phenomenon into a mystery by giving it a mythological shape and tend to forget the truth in that mystery. In this condition, Sharvay had to choose between truth or freedom and she chose freedom over truth as the society was not ready to listen to her truth. Dialogue with the Author The author's philosophical vision can be inferred from various instances in this novel. For example, the author wants to portray a picture of a woman philosopher, but for this work, she tries to raise those philosophical thoughts in the mind of the reader through her story. Although, many times, as a reader, it came to my mind that it would have been better if the philosophical debate initiated in the novel had been longer. The novel's plot implicitly raises philosophical questions at many points. It occasionally reminds us of Sophie’s World and suggests the possibility of a similar book in the context of Indian philosophy. When it comes to the author's philosophical assumptions, she has been very explicit on the significance of Apta Pramana but not limited to some special ones. She has also emphasized the body's epistemological significance numerous times. In this context, the author has acknowledged the significance of Ayurveda , which emphasizes observation as an epistemological tool. Besides, the author seems to value observation and analysis over philosophy's speculation. In addition, she believes that the kind of philosophical speculation, that reduces people to objects, is the cause of social inequity. In this novel, she investigates the possibility of the philosophy that places the human body and experience at its core and that may be developed based on the reality that each person encounters. If I examine the author's presumptions regarding the freedom of women, her picture of women's independence with the family appears challenging. She thus presents Sharvay's figure as being more independent without family. In addition, despite emphasizing the importance of the body, the author did not highlight the impact of pregnancy on a woman's life, though it is a significant part of a woman's physical life. One explanation for this would be that she considers this trait to be a weakness in women. I also find the kind of comradeship portrayed in the novel among the women, especially between Sharvay and Bakumi seems quite imaginary and imposed from our times. I believe this kind of comradeship was absent at that time even nowadays. This is the main reason, women have not been able to become a political pressure group in Indian political discourses yet. This novel was also interesting to me because it portrays a vivid picture of the historical cities of Central and South India which are completely new to me. It brings up some historical characters that I was unaware of, being a North Indian. It provides detailed pictures of the cities, their economies, artists, and artworks. There is an unknown thrill while reading this novel, especially the character of the Buddhist Bhikhuni, Tara, who has been presented in a very mysterious and attractive manner. The character of the protagonist, Sharvay, is also heartfelt and real. It has not been portrayed in an unnecessarily romantic style. This is the reason why the novel has been quite successful in highlighting the inhumanity prevalent in the society of that time. This work will be thought-provoking and interesting to philosophy students, anyone who is interested in issues about women, and to the readers of historical fiction. This book may make you reflect on a variety of subjects, including the veracity of existentialist philosophy, freedom, and potentiality, questions of identity and integrity, the advantages and disadvantages of public and private funding, etc.

  • Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" | IPN

    Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" Neeraj Umesh PhD Scholar, BITS Pilani (Hyderbad) Book Review # Jul 17, 2025 Book review of Shamik Chakravarty's Quick and Concise: Philosophy (Hachette India, 2025). Overview and Structure of the Book Shamik Chakravarty’s Quick and Concise: Philosophy serves as an accessible and engaging introductory work for readers who are in the early stages of their intellectual journey into rational inquiry and philosophical reflection. This book touches upon key philosophical problems associated with the discipline, including metaphysics, ethics, and epistemology, while skilfully avoiding the complex formalism and symbolic logic often found in academic texts. Written in a clear and conversational style, it raises questions that general readers and laypersons have likely encountered in everyday life but may not have pursued with philosophical precision. The introduction is especially notable for its tone, which adds what may be described as a ‘human touch.’ Rather than treating philosophy as a remote or purely academic exercise, Chakravarty invites the reader to see it as a deeply human pursuit, rooted in the necessity of questioning, reasoning, and examining the implications of one’s beliefs and values. This rhetorical move effectively situates philosophical inquiry in the reader’s lived context, a strength rarely seen in traditional textbooks. A particularly thoughtful inclusion is the reference to the Bhagavad Gita , which introduces Indian philosophical perspectives into the broader narrative. The author cites the famous dilemma faced by Arjuna, “This dilemma isn’t just one between a moral and an immoral choice but between two choices that have values that are compelling”, as an example of ethical conflict not easily resolved by standard normative theories. This framing reflects the nuanced character of real-world moral dilemmas. However, the analysis might have been enriched by a discussion of classical or contemporary objections to this framing, particularly from within Indian traditions themselves. One of the book’s commendable features is its pedagogical sensitivity. Rather than overburdening readers with formal logic, Chakravarty introduces logical tools gradually and in small, digestible portions. This scaffolding allows the reader to develop reasoning skills organically without the need for prior exposure to analytic methods. In the next section, I offer a closer look at several key chapters that illustrate the strengths and occasional gaps of Chakravarty’s approach. Chapter Highlights The chapter on morality is a demonstration of the philosophical depth and clarity that the author wishes to bring to his readers in his book. It surveys a broad array of ethical theories along with their standard criticisms, enabling readers to consider the strengths and limitations of each. The chapter could have benefited from engagement with contemporary moral psychology, particularly theories of moral cores or innate ethical intuitions, and examining certain positions in a bit more depth, such as Jonathan Wolff’s ‘ An Introduction to Moral Responsibility’ . Its restraint is understandable given its target audience. Chakravarty aims to provoke reflection rather than to exhaust debate. The chapter on epistemology, titled "What is Knowledge?" takes on one of the most discussed problems in the field, the Gettier problem, and presents a range of responses. The treatment is systematic and coherent. However, the transition into this topic may feel abrupt, especially for readers unfamiliar with the basics of epistemology. A more gradual introduction, perhaps beginning with the sources of knowledge such as perception, reason, and testimony, would have provided a smoother entry. In this regard, Robert Audi’s Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge offers a model worth emulating. Further, since the chapter revolves around the concept of knowledge, a brief discussion on theories of truth (correspondence, coherence, pragmatic, etc.) and the distinction between absolutist and relativist views would have significantly enhanced the general reader’s understanding. These additions could have grounded the discussion more fully and helped bridge the conceptual leap from earlier chapters. Nevertheless, the concluding section on "The Ideal Knower" is particularly engaging. The author's attempt to bridge the gap between truth and justification while integrating insights from Nyāya philosophy is a refreshing and welcome gesture toward cross-cultural dialogue in epistemology. It broadens the book's scope and invites readers to appreciate the depth of Indian philosophical traditions alongside their Western counterparts. The chapter on skepticism also deserves mention. While well-argued and rich in content, it may have been more effectively placed earlier in the book. A skeptical mindset is foundational to both philosophical reasoning and inquiry. Introducing it earlier could have framed the reader’s engagement with subsequent chapters more critically. That said, the chapter does a commendable job of introducing important concepts such as abduction and common fallacies like begging the question, which are essential tools for any aspiring philosopher. The seventh chapter, on personal identity, is arguably the most well-executed section of the book. Chakravarty presents both essentialist and anti-essentialist frameworks with clarity and balance, guiding the reader through well-established positions in the debate. The inclusion of the dialogue between Nāgasena and King Milinda is particularly effective, offering a lucid and engaging account of the Buddhist theory of non-self. This is presented with enough clarity that even readers unfamiliar with Buddhist thought can grasp its philosophical implications. For those interested in exploring this theme further, the work of Jay Garfield, especially Buddhist Ethics: A Philosophical Exploration , is a valuable complement. Garfield’s argument from moral phenomenology strengthens the case that the self, while not metaphysically substantial, plays a central role in our experience and ethical life. His treatment of non-self as a lived, moral insight rather than a merely metaphysical denial is especially relevant to readers seeking to understand the ethical stakes of identity. The final chapter on aesthetics brings the book to a compelling close. Chakraborty addresses enduring questions such as “What is art?” and “What does it mean to call something a work of art?” His brief inclusion of a discussion on Nāṭyaśāstra and the concept of rasa is particularly valuable, as it introduces readers to Indian aesthetic theory, a domain often overlooked in introductory texts. Academic Perspective Shamik Chakravarty’s Quick and Concise: Philosophy is an impressive and inclusive introductory text for the general reader. It navigates difficult philosophical terrain with clarity, balance, and accessibility. While some chapters could benefit from deeper scaffolding or further engagement with counter-positions, the book as a whole succeeds in its core aim: to initiate general readers into the world of philosophical thinking without condescension or oversimplification. Beyond general readability, the book also raises questions about its utility in academic settings, especially as a possible text for undergraduate instruction. One element missing from the book, especially if used in an academic context, is a reflective feedback mechanism. Most introductory texts include end-of-chapter questions or prompts that help students consolidate learning and develop their own philosophical positions. The text is quite informative, but I feel it lacks 'Nurture' that would allow students to engage with these ideas more effectively. Perhaps incorporating a question that prompts students to form their own opinions could be beneficial. Learning philosophy and doing philosophy are two distinct activities, though I do not deny that they overlap to some degree; however, in my opinion, this text focuses on Learning Philosophy, especially from the way it is structured and would be better suited to be supplementary material for students. In sum, this work succeeds in being an accessible and culturally thoughtful entry point into philosophical inquiry. While it is not a substitute for more rigorous academic resources, it offers instructors and self-learners alike a meaningful way to begin thinking philosophically with an eye toward both Eastern and Western traditions. References Audi, Robert. Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge . New York: Routledge, 2011. Garfield, Jay L. Buddhist Ethics: A Philosophical Exploration . New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2022. Wolff, Jonathan. Introduction to Moral Philosophy. 2nd ed. S.L.: W W Norton, 2021.

  • Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" | IPN

    Review of "Quick and Concise: Philosophy" Shivangi Shanker Independent Scholar, PhD from JNU Book Review # Jul 22, 2025 Book review of Shamik Chakravarty's Quick and Concise: Philosophy (Hachette India, 2025). Writing an introductory book to a discipline as rich and diverse as philosophy is profoundly challenging. Quick and Concise: Philosophy (Hachette India, 2025) by Shamik Chakravarty not only overcomes this challenge but also broadens the scope of the genre, despite its compact size. It is a pocket-sized book with themes including both Indian and Western traditions of Philosophy. The book offers a discourse on the fundamental questions of philosophy concerning meaning, free will, morality, knowledge, personal identity, and art. Shamik’s endeavour stands out as an attempt to present a comprehensive philosophical dialogue which reflects philosophical inclusivity on two levels: conceptual and contextual. Conceptual inclusivity is evident in Shamik’s incorporation of non-Western philosophy, while contextual inclusivity emerges through the integration of culturally familiar situations, names, and cities into deeper philosophical enquiries. The use of familiar Indian backdrops, such as the workplace dilemma (p.74) in a corporate context or the affirmative action (p. 71) example, makes it especially relatable to the Indian readers. What distinguishes the text further is that it does not bridge the gap between different knowledge systems through mere exposition but an application of the Socratic (Blondell 2018) and the Hegelian Dialectical methods (Houlgate 2024) [i] . In the analogy between Buddhism, deontology, and utilitarianism, or Buddhism and virtue ethics. Or its comparative analysis with Kantian ethics, which puts forth a reconciled ethical position from the point of view of Buddhism. (Chakravarty 2025, 64-70). The process of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis [ii] is evident. Shamik selects a broad range of topics as compared to Bertrand Russell’s The Problems of Philosophy (Russell 2020), Thomas Nagel’s What Does It All Mean (Nagel 1987), and Edward Craig’s Philosophy: A Very Short Introduction (Craig 2002). As far as the structure of Quick and Concise: Philosophy is concerned, it resembles Nagel’s What Does It All Mean and Edward Craig’s Philosophy: A Very Short Introduction. But the curation of topics and the execution of the discussions surrounding it is wider and more inclusive in Shamik’s book. While Shamik includes a range of classical Indian views, Craig focuses mainly on Buddhism. All of these texts either ignore or mention in passing the discussion on the notion of art. Whereas, Quick and Concise: Philosophy not only elaborates on it, but discusses Indian Philosophy of art— Nāṭyaśāstra . Suggesting that art and aesthetics are not peripheral topics but central to philosophy. Shamik shows a shift from traditional metaphysical speculation to recent philosophical and psychological integration, bringing out an intersection of ethics, psychology, metaphysics, and applied philosophy. He discusses how Psychology deals with the dichotomy of choosing the right over the wrong by applying psychological mechanisms (pp. 68-70). The notion of free will includes an extended reference to determinism, compatibilism, agent causation, AI, neuroscience (p. 89), and ethical psychology, along with other interdisciplinary enquiries. He presents a more critical than expository outlook to the problems, which sometimes may feel overwhelming to beginners in Philosophy. But his writing eliminates this obstruction with various shifts in the tone. Given that Russell, Nagel, and Shamik write in different eras, there are differences in how they approach their work. The Problems of Philosophy offers 20th-century analytical and epistemological views, which makes it denser and limited in scope. Shamik’s work overcomes these challenges by employing a conversational style where he speaks to the readers (p. 1) [iii] . He simplifies complicated ideas, recognising the significance of critical thinking in the learning process. The book is a reflection of interactive teaching-learning techniques. Its examples and questions are relatable to the wider audience. The application of both pedagogical and philosophical methods makes the book comprehensible for general readers as well as students of philosophy. The book has eight chapters (excluding references and index), which reflect the diverse scope that the author has created. The chapters are structured thematically to make reasoned analysis, back-and-forth through thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, excelling in the pedagogical spirit. Each chapter explores a fundamental question or a theme within philosophy and presents the diverse philosophical views and critical analysis under sub-themes. The initial four chapters provide a clear orientation to its readers. It includes topics like what philosophy is. What do philosophers do? And introduces the readers to the main branches of Philosophy (p. 20), that is, Metaphysics, Epistemology, Ontology, and Logic. In these chapters, the author explores the questions: What is the meaning of life, and meaning in life? What is morality? What is free will and determinism? The latter four chapters enquire into scepticism, what constitutes personal identity, the role of determinism in free will, whether people are responsible for their acts, what is art and how it relates to expression, rasa , value, and emotion. Throughout the book, the author discusses answers to these questions, then the responses are either challenged or supported by other views. The chapter’s structure reflects the integration and application of the Hegelian Dialectical (Houlgate 2025), Socratic [iv] , and philosophical argumentation (inductive and deductive) methods. For example, in the first chapter, the author explains that the job of a philosopher is to seek truth through systematic argumentation. He then questions the nature of truth itself and presents the idea of relativism of truth (p. 15). In the second chapter, the discussion on the meaning of life begins with an investigation of what meaning is [v] , rather than assuming a theory of meaning. Thereafter, it presents a thorough integration of philosophies from different traditions to show how each framework evaluates or creates meaning. For instance, the elucidation of the dilemmas in the Bhagavadgitā, that one faces amid the process of understanding the metaphysical and the ontological meaning of life, is explained through the concept of yoga ( jñāna, karma, bhaktī ). Or the snake and rope example, and in its analogy with Descartes’ dream argument. In this, the author shows the relationship between Nyāya and Descartes’ scepticism, and the reference to Vātsyāyana’s (p. 144) commentary on the Nyāya Sūtra and highlights the views of opponents of the Nyāya school. These explanations offer an integration of primary and secondary literature in a much-synthesised manner. The author intends to inform their readers about the wide-ranging concepts, opposing views, and the evolution of the philosophical debate. When he explains the notion of cultural relativism, in the third chapter, and points out the problem in accepting this view. He first creates a sense of awareness that there are subjective moral beliefs, which means there are no universal moral principles acceptable to all cultures. Then, through a representation of the problems posed by cultural relativism, the author makes the reader question the notion of moral subjectivity. Interestingly, the discussions about relativity and the presentation of a discourse on it point out the interdisciplinary nature of philosophical inquiry. Relativism is a philosophical idea, but the notion of “cultural relativism” (p. 45) is studied often by anthropologists, sociologists, linguists, philosophers and psychologists. Every discipline approaches an issue from a specific vantage point and methodology. Disciplines are said to draw from philosophical methods and concepts, and vice versa. It highlights that concepts are interconnected (pp. 2-3), thereby signifying the relevance of an interdisciplinary approach. The book explicates that Philosophy is multidimensional and that the truth of a philosophical matter revolves around a debate. Structurally, the book offers an integrated study of concepts and continuity, as we see in the sixth chapter on scepticism. The discussion on Descartes’ philosophy develops into the discussion of contemporary externalist responses, including the debate over the dream argument and the application of the brain-in-a-vat thought experiment (pp. 118, 129-130). What could have otherwise come across as a literature survey, mentioning multiple philosophers and concepts in quick succession, develops into a dialectical exploration. It gives away that the author’s intent is not to find settling answers but to inform the readers about the overall debate. For example, in the seventh chapter on Personal Identity, epistemological and metaphysical discussions are made concerning several philosophers: Derek Parfit, Sydney Shoemaker, John Locke, David Hume, and Buddhist philosophy. The dialogue between Milinda and Nāgasena (pp. 167-168) on the questions of personal identity goes beyond knowing “who am I”. And the chapter ends with an unanswered question on the nature of the soul. A similar integration is evident in the eighth chapter, which explores art from a vantage point of expression, representation, flow, meaning, pleasure, and aesthetics. The author presents the formalist, expressivist, aesthetic, and rasa theories of art, capturing the integration of philosophical subdisciplines: metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics—and thereby, rounding off the broader enquiry that initially begins with the mind-body problem and the questions of meaning and life. While the book’s scope is broad, there are certain areas whose inclusion may have added to its expansive nature. Such as the theory of Justice from the aegis of philosophers like Plato, John Rawls, and Amartya Sen. The book does not include the discussions of Philosophy of language, which is central to Epistemology, Logic, Ethics and various other disciplines. An introduction to the central figures like Wittgenstein, Frege, Austin, Searle, or Putnam may have provided a meta-enquiry of the notion of meaning. While we are introduced to Sartre’s view on meaning, Nietzsche’s contributions to understanding meaning in life are missing. The references to other orthodox schools of Indian Philosophy, and the modern Indian thinkers like Sen, Aurobindo, Vivekananda, Mohanty and others may have complemented the book’s scope. Still, the text compensates for its limitations as seen in the eighth chapter—“What is art”, though introductory in tone, explores intersecting domains: experience, emotion, rasa , value, and flow. The chapter draws on Plato’s (p. 173) and Wittgenstein’s direct and indirect contributions (p. 189) to understanding the meaning of art, informing the reader about the wider scope of their philosophical viewpoints. Another remarkable strategy is the blending of the classical Indian Philosophy and the attempts to overcome the limitations of philosophical parochialism (Konstantinović 2021) [vi] , usually prominent in the introductory level texts. Be it the integration of Buddhist ethics or the Bhagvadgītā’s teachings (p. 38), the Nyāya Philosophy (p. 143), or the Rasa theory from Natyasastra (p. 198). Alongside its philosophical inclusivity, the book employs effective pedagogical tools which engage the learner through culturally relevant (Rattanawong and Thongrin 2023) [vii] puzzles and prompts, for the initiation of a relatable understanding of concepts. Some of the culturally familiar examples or cases that the author creates in the book are worth noting. Such as the description of the experiment by Joshua Greene and Michael Koenigs (pp. 70-71), in the chapter on morality. He demonstrates the probable application of the experiment in the Indian system of Affirmative Action policies. The experiment used moral dilemmas like the trolley problem and the crying baby scenario to depict the difference that people show in emotional and cognitive responses when faced with personal moral dilemmas versus impersonal dilemmas. This experiment showed that the synthesis of deontological and utilitarian ethics can solve larger practical problems. It also helps the Indian readers to comprehend the theory in resonance with a familiar context. The author creates engaging philosophical dialogues to help the readers build an understanding step by step. The question, “If the soul isn’t the subject of experience, what is? It’s time for you, the subject of experience, to start thinking at time t 1 and come up with an answer at t 2 !” (p. 171), demands that the reader pause, think, and reflect. This approach is visible in the questions he raises: whether the comedian with a banana and duct tape produces art? And the contemplation around free will. What is more important in these endeavours is the embedding of the Socratic style that invites the readers to think independently and critically. The way the author eases philosophical perplexities with a deft shift in the tone and strategic placement of provocative phrases shows the application of an integrative teaching and learning style. In the opening chapter, the debate surrounding the mind-body problem is framed using views of several philosophers. Before the chapter gets too dense with the debate, the author lowers the intensity of the discourse with a discussion on relativism about truth. Shifting to a more familiar topic, especially one illustrated through examples like jackfruit ice cream and cultural subjectivity, eases the reader back into conceptual clarity. Even though there is a shift to a slightly casual tone, the philosophical message is never diluted, but rather enriched. For instance, “But hang on with me. There is an evil demon who is deceiving you…so you think you have hands but you don’t” (p. 117). These deliberate stylistic techniques, which maintain a balance between the academic and the casual tone, keep the readers hooked throughout the reading process. Complex discussions are eased out with similar acts by saying, “Now try to apply this to Descartes’ demon argument and the brain-in-a-vat argument and see whether it begs the question or not. Sweet dreams!” (p. 144). This sort of closing to a topic as complex as scepticism leaves the readers smiling but unsettled, forging critical reflection. Overall, the book offers both relevance and depth through the contextualisation of foundational problems in philosophy. It presents broad concepts and recent philosophical developments. The book can be beneficial for a diverse range of audiences, including undergraduate or master’s students, lay people, and young scholars. For the latter, it may serve as a useful starting point for research when supplemented with further readings. Owing to its expansive scope and pedagogically conscious style, Quick and Concise: Philosophy is a significant contribution to introductory-level philosophical literature. Footnotes [i] Refer to the discussion by Stephen Houlgate, on “Hegel's Dialectics”, The Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy , ed. Edward N. Zalta, Summer 2024 Edition, accessed July 12, 2025. [ii] A way to understand the evolution of the ideas and how integration of opposing views can lead to its further development. [iii] “One of the reasons I became a philosopher…..is to argue.” [iv] Ruby Blondell, The Socratic Method: Plato's Use of Philosophical Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018). [v] Different views culminate into a meta discussion on meaning of life. [vi] Mostly books in the genre of introduction to philosophy has for long ignored the discussion on Indian Philosophy. See parochialism in Radomir Konstantinović, The Philosophy of Parochialism , trans. Ljiljana Nikolić and Branislav Jakovljević, ed. Branislav Jakovljević (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2021). [vii] There is a strong relationship between the learner’s thinking process and the cultural context. References Blondell, Ruby. The Socratic Method: Plato’s Use of Philosophical Drama . Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018. Chakravarty, Shamik. 2025. Quick and Concise: Philosophy . Bangalore: Hachette India Craig, Edward. Philosophy: A Very Short Introduction . Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Houlgate, Stephen. Hegel’s Dialectics.” The Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy . Edited by Edward N. Zalta. Summer 2024 Edition. Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. Accessed July 12, 2025. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2024/entries/hegel-dialectics/ . Konstantinović, Radomir. 2021. The Philosophy of Parochialism . Translated by Ljiljana Nikolić and Branislav Jakovljević. Edited by Branislav Jakovljević. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Nagel, Thomas. What Does It All Mean? A Very Short Introduction to Philosophy , New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. Rattanawong, Amonrat, and Saneh Thongrin. “An Exploration of Culture in Listening and Speaking Materials from an English as an International Language Perspective.” LEARN Journal: Language Education and Acquisition Research Network 16, no. 1 (January-June 2023): 652–75. Russell, Bertrand. The Problems of Philosophy . Mumbai: Sanage Publishing House, 2020. Originally published in 1912.

  • Review of Social Scientists in the Civic Space | IPN

    Review of Social Scientists in the Civic Space Shami Ulla Independent Scholar (PhD from University of Delhi) Book Review # Mar 24, 2025 Book review of the volume Social Scientists in the Civic Space: Ethical Perspectives on Democratic Involvement, edited by Arundhati Virmani, Jean Boutier, and Manohar Kumar (Routledge 2024). Have you ever wondered how social scientists address the practical and ethical challenges of civic space? This excellent edited book will answer your questions and ignite your passion for understanding the role and challenges of social scientists in the civic space. Compiling 15 chapters, this scholarly work motivates us to understand how the complexities of civic space challenge social scientists and how their involvement and detachment shape ethical and political decision-making in various ways. The book holds great academic significance for those who wish to understand the role, challenges, various kinds of pressure (such as political and cultural, etc.), and the relationship between their academic integrity and public responsibility. The book talks about defining ground for civic space, interventions, and involvement of social scientists in civic space for public debate regarding policy-making and decision-making in five principal parts: part one deals with ‘Challenges of the Context’ and consists of chapters 1-3, the part two deals with ‘Interventions in the Civic Space’ and consists of chapters 4-7, the part three deals with ‘Involvement in Public Debates’ and consists of chapters 8-11, the part four deals with ‘Ethical Politics of Democracy’ and consists of chapters 12-14 and the last part five deals with ‘Perspectives’ which consist of chapter 15. The book explores the role of social scientists in civic space and examines four major questions. First, what is civic space, and how do social scientists face the challenges of defining their role within it? Second, should social scientists engage in the public domain, or should they maintain a distance from civic space? Third, how do social scientists balance their dual responsibilities—one as academicians tasked with producing knowledge and the other as civilians who engage in public debates or activism? fourth, in the era of digitalization, how can social scientists protect themselves from misinformation? The book deals with these core questions, contributing significantly to the ongoing debate on the roles and challenges of social scientists in the civic space. To be more specific, Part One of the book Challenges of the Context deals with the historical grounding for civic space. In chapter 1, Jean Boutier discusses the place and role of historians between the two World Wars. The chapter interrogates the historian’s responsibility in times of political instability, economic turmoil, and ideological extremism. Boutier raises the question: should historians’ work remain confined to academia, or do they have a duty to intervene in public affairs? Scholars such as Henri Pirenne, Max Weber, Marc Bloch, and Lucien Febvre provide a nuanced response to political crises ( p. 15). However, the chapter does not provide a clear framework for how modern scholars should navigate this tension in the face of misinformation, climate change, or political extremism that exists in civic space. In Chapter 2, Rouzean explores how a historian became an activist while researching the Rwandan genocide (p. 26). He candidly reflects on his personal biases, uncertainties, and ethical dilemmas, making the chapter a compelling meditation on the responsibilities of historians. As he admits, "I could not shy away from a form of civic commitment that I had so far rejected" (p. 27). However, the chapter leaves an important question unanswered: if writing history objectively is impossible, what ethical standards should historians adopt when engaging with politically charged topics? Despite being deeply reflective and intellectually courageous, the chapter does not fully resolve this issue. In Chapter 3, Virmani discusses the significance of contextual freedom and how nationalistic political pressures hinder the writing of true history. She argues that an activist or social scientist can achieve greater objectivity by maintaining distance and dislocation when researching the history of other countries. According to Virmani, historians from foreign countries may be better positioned to produce unbiased historical narratives, as they are less susceptible to domestic political pressures (p. 55). This perspective suggests that geographical and cultural detachment could help scholars maintain academic objectivity more effectively. Part Two of the book Interventions in the Civic Space deals with what types of interventions are being practiced and the challenges faced by social scientists in the civic space. Intervening in public debate requires a different form of expertise. In chapter 4 , Théry redefines expertise as a balance between scientific rigor, civic engagement, and democratic participation (p. 74). He argues that expertise is not a singular, monolithic practice but rather unfolds across three distinct models—service expertise, consensus expertise, and engagement expertise, which help mediate between knowledge production and civic responsibility (p. 58). In civic responsibility, all experts carry a dual responsibility or identity. For example, economists often function as public figures, as seen in the cases of Manmohan Singh, Mario Monti, Lucas Papademos, John Maynard Keynes, Paul Krugman, and Amartya Sen. Similarly, historians such as Paxton and Ginsborg, shape and enrich public debates through their engagements. (Virmani, 2024, p. 69). In Chapter 5, Virmani explores how public writing is not merely a means of communication, but a democratic responsibility. For example, Balakrishnan’s critique of the Silver Line project in Kerala exemplifies how economists can use their expertise to question state-led development narratives (p. 73). Such interventions demonstrate that economists are not merely technocratic advisors but also active participants in ongoing democratic conversations. In Chapter 6, Ashwani Kumar examines the success and failures of the MGNREGA policy in India, highlighting the realities of six districts. It explores the role of bureaucracy, political clientelism, and local power structures in shaping welfare delivery. Kumar showed that Jalpaiguri (West Bengal) and Tiruvannamalai (Tamil Nadu) implemented innovative solutions, where political competition positively transformed the livelihoods for thousands of workers. However, in other districts like Bagalkote (Karnataka), Seoni (Madhya Pradesh), Nagaur (Rajasthan), and Gaya (Bihar) welfare programs were manipulated by local politicians for vote bank politics. Additionally, the existing upper and lower caste gap hindered equal welfare delivery (p. 86-92). In chapter 7, Trannoy discusses why economists rarely emerge as public intellectuals. Trannoy argues that professional incentives, writing styles, and the technical nature of economic research limit economists' engagement in broader public discourse (p. 100). Thus, the chapter has great virtues, but a question remains: How do digital media and its influence on the dialogue between experts and the public shape economists as public figures? Part Three of the book Involvement in Public Debates deals with how experts and the public influence policy and decision-making. In Chapter 8, Swaminathan presents a critical understanding of India’s food security policies. She evaluates the Public Distribution System (PDS), debates the merits of targeted vs. universal food security, and examines the role of activism in shaping welfare policies ( p. 118). She argues that India’s food security crisis is not caused by food shortages but rather by policy failures and exclusionary welfare mechanisms (p. 123). She makes a strong case for a universal PDS, citing its proven success in states like Tamil Nadu and Chhattisgarh, where it has led to higher food security and reduced corruption. She critiques neoliberal approaches that emphasize targeted welfare and fiscal restraint. In her words, “The shift from universal to targeted PDS has neither led to a reduction in budgetary subsidies nor has it benefited the large majority of food-insecure households in the desired manner” ( p. 127). The chapter could be developed by comparing India’s food security policies with global models such as Brazil’s Bolsa Família or China’s grain distribution system, providing a broader perspective. In chapter 9, Aucante offers a comparative analysis of the role of social scientists in democratic policymaking in Scandinavia and France. Aucante argues that while Scandinavian social scientists engage with the state in a structured manner, their French counterparts are more often positioned as critics, public intellectuals, or independent commentators (p. 138). In chapter 10, Bozon presents a comparative analysis of anti-gender movements in France and Brazil. He explores their emergence, evolution, and how conservative political and religious actors weaponized gender studies, feminism, and LGBTQ+ rights as threats to national identity and social stability (p. 155). In Brazil, Bolsonaro explicitly attacked gender studies and feminist movements, cutting funding for social sciences and promoting a conservative Christian identity as the foundation of national culture. Similarly, in France, mass protests erupted in 2012–2013 against the legalization of same-sex marriage ( Le Mariage pour Tous ), led by conservative Catholic organizations and right-wing intellectuals. French conservatives accused gender scholars of corrupting children, undermining family values, and promoting radical leftist ideologies (p. 159-160). While France’s anti-gender discourse was driven by intellectual and cultural arguments, Brazil’s was more populist and religious, illustrating different pathways to the same ideological goal. In Chapter 11, Rajeshwari argues that civic space is neither neutral nor universally accessible but is shaped by structural inequalities related to gender, caste, class, and religion. Rajeshwari demonstrates how feminist research both critiques and contributes to civic discourse in India. Engaging with major feminist movements, digital activism, and contested public debates, the chapter provides a nuanced exploration of how feminist engagement challenges dominant power structures and expands democratic participation ( p. 165). Part four of the book Ethical Politics of Democracy deals with the role of the knowledge of expertise in the civic space. In chapter 12, Origgi reflects on how expert knowledge interacts with democratic principles, such as equality, neutrality, and legitimacy (p. 182). She raises questions like: Can democracies maintain both respect for expertise and genuine citizen participation, or does reliance on experts inevitably create a knowledge elite that weakens democratic legitimacy? (p. 184). She argues that the legitimacy of expertise is not automatic—it must be continually negotiated through transparency, public debate, and accountability mechanisms. Thus she writes that “Social scientists play a crucial role in mediating between expert and lay knowledge... by advancing new models that give a voice to the needs and values of society” (p. 188). This raises the question of how social media, misinformation, and alternative media platforms influence public perceptions of expertise. In chapter 13, Fatimah, Khan, & Natarajan, discuss data-driven journalism and its challenges. It highlights that journalists and social scientists need data science skills (e.g., coding, statistical modeling, machine learning), yet most professionals lack formal training (p. 197). In chapter 14, Manohar examines the role of civility in democratic discourse and protest movements. Kumar critiques the positions of Rawls and Habermas, arguing that norms of civility often privilege dominant groups while excluding marginalized voices. The chapter critiques the weaponization of civility, showing how it has been used to delegitimize disruptive but necessary movements for justice. Kumar suggests that democratic movements must balance radical disruption with strategic engagement (p. 206). Kumar states, “Disobedience uncovers a dimension of civility not as opposition, but as necessary coexistence that captures the messiness of democratic politics” (p. 216). Part five of the book Perspectives consists of the last chapter, 15. Samaddar discusses the role of social sciences in contemporary governance and policymaking and gives a metaphor of Sisyphus. The chapter questions whether social sciences, in their current form, can still serve a radical, emancipatory function or whether they have become mere tools of administrative governance (p. 222). Kumar argues that due to data-driven social science and research funding influenced by government or corporate interests, social scientists have turned from being social inquirers or whistle-blowers against power to becoming skilled practitioners of a discipline. consequently, the author urges social scientists to rethink their role in civic space (p. 226). The book is significant as it expands discussions on scholars' social roles—Weber’s detachment, Gramsci’s organic intellectuals, and Bourdieu’s public intellectuals—by addressing modern issues like digital misinformation and civic engagement beyond academia. The book explores emerging engagements like data journalism, grassroots activism, and ethical challenges in digital scholarship. The book links classical theories to modern knowledge production, showing how scholars navigate ethical dilemmas in today’s public sphere. This book aligns with Medvetz’s Think Tanks in America (2012) on expert policymaking influence and Calhoun’s Social Science for Public Knowledge (2008) on broader scholarly engagement. This book takes a global, interdisciplinary approach to ethical dilemmas in digital spaces, complementing Melzer’s The Public Intellectual: Between Philosophy and Politics (2003) by examining activism versus neutrality. The book excels in presentation. Boutier’s chapter advocates balancing public engagement and neutrality, but his historical analysis lacks a modern framework for misinformation. Rajeshwari’s chapter challenges detachment in structural inequalities. Fatimah, Khan, and Natarajans’ chapter stresses data skills but overlooks AI’s driven ethical risks. The book also misses a systematic Global North-South comparison. The book lacks discussion on social scientists in authoritarian regimes and underrepresents scholars in Africa and Latin America. It also overlooks AI-driven misinformation, surveillance, and algorithmic governance. The book could improve with chapters on social scientists under authoritarian regimes, AI’s role in civic engagement, and a Global South vs. North comparison approach to civic engagement. Adding participatory action research (PAR) would highlight scholar-community collaboration for impactful social science. Addressing these gaps would have enriched its analysis and provided a more comprehensive view of public scholarship today. Overall, the book Social Scientists in the Civic Space Ethical Perspectives on Democratic Involvement provides a thoughtful and valuable resource for students, researchers, and policymakers engaged in public domain research. The book successfully achieves its objectives, offering contextually relevant examples and ethical dilemmas that social scientists encounter in the civic space. References Calhoun, Craig. "Social science for public knowledge." Academics as public intellectuals (2008): 299-318. Medvetz, Thomas. Think tanks in America . University of Chicago Press, 2012. Melzer, Arthur M., Jerry Weinberger, and M. Richard Zinman, eds. The public intellectual: between philosophy and politics . Rowman & Littlefield, 2003.

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