The weekly report on new and revised entries at online philosophy resources and new reviews of philosophy books…

Reminder: if your journal publishes open-access book reviews, please send in links to them for inclusion in future weekly updates.

SEP

New:     

1. Reverse Mathematics by Benedict Eastaugh.

Revised:

1. Causation in the Law by Michael Moore.
2. Leibniz’s Influence on 19th Century Logic by Volker Peckhaus.
3. Compatibilism by Michael McKenna and D. Justin Coates.
4. Ethics in Indian Buddhism by Charles Goodman and Aaron Schultz.
5. Radulphus Brito by Ana María Mora-Márquez and Iacopo Costa.
6. Michael Oakeshott by Terry Nardin.
7. Johann Sturm by Andrea Sangiacomo and Christian Henkel.
8. The Logic of Mass Expressions by David Nicolas.
9. Structuralism in Physics by Heinz-Juergen Schmidt.
10. Evolutionary Psychology by Stephen M. Downes.

IEP       ∅   

NDPR      ∅

1000-Word Philosophy    

1. The Mind-Body Problem: What Are Minds? by Jacob Berger.

Project Vox     ∅    

Open-Access Book Reviews in Academic Philosophy Journals   

1. How Knowledge Grows: The Evolutionary Development of Scientific Practice by Chris Haufe is reviewed by  Juan V. Mayoral at The Journal of the British Society for the Philosophy of Science.

Recent Philosophy Book Reviews in Non-Academic Media    

1. The Need for Roots by Simone Weil is reviewed by Becca Rothfeld at The Washington Post.
2. Alasdair MacIntyre: An Intellectual Biography by Émile Perreau-Saussine, translated by Nathan J. Pinkoski is reviewed by Jonathan Rée at The London Review of Books.
3. Tyranny of the Gene: Personalized Medicine and Its Threat to Public Health by James Tabery is reviewed by James Le Fanu at Literary Review.
4. Thoreau’s Axe: Distraction and Discipline in American Culture by Caleb Smith, Henry at Work: Thoreau on Making a Living by John Kaag, and Jonathan van Belle, and Henry David Thoreau: Thinking Disobediently by Lawrence Buell are together reviewed by Costica Bradatan at the Times Literary Supplement.

Compiled by Michael Glawson

Previous Edition

BONUS: Bentham meets God

The post Online Philosophy Resources Weekly Update first appeared on Daily Nous.

In Incomplete Conquests: The Limits of Spanish Empire in the Seventeenth-Century Philippines, Stephanie Joy Mawson considers histories of resistance to colonialism in the Philippines during the 1600s. While it relies on Spanish archival rather than indigenous sources, Cai Barias deems the book a worthwhile contribution to the understanding of how marginalised communities in the Philippines responded to colonial agents. This post was originally published on the LSE Southeast Asia Blog.

Incomplete Conquests: The Limits of Spanish Empire in the Seventeenth-Century Philippines. Stephanie Joy Mawson. Cornell University Press. 2023.

This summer I began to study my own Ibanag roots, and as a budding historian, I first searched for what had been written about my father’s native Cagayan Valley. Reaching out to relatives and neighbours in Tuguegarao brought me into the company of Ibanag anthropologists, archaeologists, and historians. From my own search and their shared expertise, I found that the academic literature on Ibanag history, and the indigenous peoples of the Cagayan Valley more broadly, was regrettably scarce. The opportunity to review Stephanie Joy Mawson’s monograph, Incomplete Conquests: The Limits of Spanish Empire in the Seventeenth-Century Philippines was a welcome change of pace, and in the first few paragraphs I began to imagine myself alongside her, standing atop the Calvary Hills in Iguig to view the vast expanse of the Cagayan Valley from above.

Mawson’s deeply researched book approaches the seventeenth century from the limits of Spanish empire, and elucidates how indigenous and external threats, as much as internal Spanish shortcomings, limited Spanish imperial expansion in the Philippines.

Mawson’s deeply researched book approaches the seventeenth century from the limits of Spanish empire, and elucidates how indigenous and external threats, as much as internal Spanish shortcomings, limited Spanish imperial expansion in the Philippines. Mawson’s work rests on three main arguments. First, Mawson argues that the Spanish colonial apparatus was thinly and unevenly spread through the archipelago. Second, Mawson argues that the Spanish adapted indigenous systems of labour and belief into their own practices of governance, often with the effect of undermining their own authority. And third, by focusing on the Cagayan Valley and surrounding mountain communities, Mawson argues that the imposed distinction between highland and lowland colonial histories is historically inaccurate.

Incomplete Conquests is organised roughly thematically into seven chapters that together bring the Spanish empire into fuller view. Chapters One and Seven best demonstrate the internal limitations of Spanish colonial authority. Chapter One focuses on moments of indigenous resistance in the Philippines between 1600-1663. These crises were previously characterised as exceptional, but Mawson argues that they were endemic and inevitable due to a weak economy, political competition from indigenous datus and the Dutch, the disintegration of alliances with indigenous people, and the growth of trade with China in the port of Manila. Chapter One lays the groundwork for the rest of her narrative and demonstrates the financial and political weakness of the Spanish, as well as their struggles to maintain personnel and a physical presence throughout Luzon. This argument is further expanded in Chapter Seven, in which Mawson argues that even in the colonial seat of power, Manila, the Spanish did not wield total authority over inhabitants. Mawson finds that Spanish power in Manila was exerted through law and bureaucracy, while Chinese inhabitants wielded power economically and thus came to control the city’s food supply.

The limitations of Spanish authority had significant implications for the changes that they were able to, or not, impose on indigenous social structures in the seventeenth century.

The limitations of Spanish authority had significant implications for the changes that they were able to, or not, impose on indigenous social structures in the seventeenth century. In Chapters Two, Three, and Four, Mawson argues that the Spanish adapted to pre-Hispanic social, spiritual, and economic structures to maintain their authority. In Chapter Two, Mawson argues that pressure from indigenous elite allies forced the Spanish to adopt pre-Hispanic social and economic structures, like debt bondage. Mawson also considers how the continuation of debt bondage further entrenched the divide between wealthy and poor indigenous peoples, and how the latter overwhelmingly turned to rebellion in response to this system. Chapter Three turns to Spanish efforts at conversion against the backdrop of the indigenous spiritual landscape. Mawson considers both the literal landscape and various communities’ beliefs in spirits and signs embedded in the natural world, and missionaries’ attempts to move indigenous peoples into Spanish settlements. Finally, in Chapter Four, Mawson details the politics of slave raiding in the southern regions of the Philippine archipelago and argues that Moro leaders used slave raids deliberately to destabilise Spanish presence in the Visayas. Moro leaders also engaged in diplomacy with the Spanish and were often able to sway negotiations in their favour. Together, these three chapters show how indigenous peoples were able to maintain aspects of their politics, beliefs, and in the case of the Moros, their land, despite myriad efforts to disrupt pre-Hispanic ways of life.

Mawson details the politics of slave raiding in the southern regions of the Philippine archipelago and argues that Moro leaders used slave raids deliberately to destabilise Spanish presence in the Visayas.

Chapters Five and Six focus on the process of colonisation in the Cagayan Valley and collectively demonstrate that highland and lowland histories were intimately connected throughout. Chapter Five brings the reader to the Cagayan Valley and surrounding mountain communities to show how autonomous mountain communities and lowland fugitives moved to and from the mountains. Mawson finds that the mountains offered spaces of refuge for indigenous peoples looking to leave Spanish-controlled areas, and that the Spanish were largely unable to navigate the terrain. Chapter Six details Cagayan insurgencies from 1572-1745 and expands the argument that upland and lowland histories were intertwined: this time through social connections including trade and kinship networks. Both chapters highlight how Cagayan communities resisted Spanish incursions, by attacking settlements, threatening allies, and moving throughout the region, as early as 1580s. Through such resistance, indigenous peoples in Cagayan limited Spanish settlement in the north for the duration of seventeenth century. Mawson’s focus on the Cagayan Valley is perhaps this book’s most meaningful intervention, as few studies of this region during the seventeenth century exist.

Mawson’s focus on the Cagayan Valley is perhaps this book’s most meaningful intervention, as few studies of this region during the seventeenth century exist.

Throughout Incomplete Conquests, Mawson relies a great deal on Spanish archives with the intention of “reading the silences” for indigenous agency. On the one hand, this archive allows Mawson to recreate moments of Spanish expansion and retreat in detail. Indeed, the use of Spanish sources to demonstrate imperial weakness is appropriate and challenges a historiography that overattributes success to the Spanish empire. On the other hand, however, this method necessarily limits the reader to impressions of indios as mediated through Spanish eyes and ears. Mawson works to challenge colonial characterisations of slave raiding and headhunting as “savagery” by framing such practices within broader Southeast Asian cosmographies but falls short of including original research utilising non-colonial sources. Including a greater diversity of sources, perhaps even non-textual indigenous sources, would have only enriched Mawson’s work.

For those interested in the history of Cagayan Valley, I recommend reading this book alongside work by Cagayano researchers and academics who do the work to bridge the gap between colonialism and indigenous cultural revival

Overall, Incomplete Conquests is a thorough and engaging book and would benefit students of Philippine history, Iberian empire, and Southeast Asia alike. For those interested in the history of Cagayan Valley, I recommend reading this book alongside work by Cagayano researchers and academics who do the work to bridge the gap between colonialism and indigenous cultural revival including the Cagayan Heritage Conservation Society and the Cagayan Museum and Historical Research Center.

This book review is published by the LSE Southeast Asia blog and LSE Review of Books blog as part of a collaborative series focusing on timely and important social science books from and about Southeast Asia. This review gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, the LSE Southeast Asia Blog, or the London School of Economics and Political Science. 

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In A Theory of Everyone: Who We Are, How We Got Here, and Where We’re Going, Michael Muthukrishna contends that the core issue affecting Western societies is increasing energy scarcity, leading to economic struggles, political disillusionment, and global instability. Though the public policy solutions Muthukrishna proposes – like better immigration systems and start-up cities – are outlined only vaguely, the book offers fresh ideas in an engaging writing style, according to James Sewry.

A Theory of Everyone: Who We Are, How We Got Here, and Where We’re Going. Michael Muthukrishna. Basic Books. London. 2023.

Find this book: 

A Theory of Everyone by Michael Muthukrishna, Associate Professor of Economic Psychology at LSE, is a bold and ambitious book. It argues that the underlying cause of the present malaise of western societies is increasing energy scarcity. There is no doubt that the malaise is real. Since the global financial crisis, the UK has struggled to achieve economic and productivity growth; living standards are stagnant; inflation recently reached almost double figures; and the cost of energy spiked. As faith in politics and institutions is eroded, voters are drawn towards populism. Social media polarises us. The global order seems precarious: wars rage in Ukraine and the Middle East. In the words of Muthukrishna, “we can feel in our bones that the world is breaking – that something is wrong”.

The global order seems precarious: wars rage in Ukraine and the Middle East. In the words of Muthukrishna, ‘we can feel in our bones that the world is breaking – that something is wrong’.

The ultimate cause of all these different problems, Muthukrishna argues, is the lack of excess energy. Tapping into the energy contained within fossil fuels has driven society’s development since the Industrial Revolution, precipitating prosperity and increasing standards of living. Until relatively recently, energy seemed abundant. But fossil fuels are running out. The energy return on investment (EROI) that they offer is diminishing. For every single barrel of oil discovered in 1999 one could find at least another 1,000, but by 2010, this number had reduced to five. As Muthukrishna contends, we came to take energy for granted and stopped thinking about it. But as it becomes more expensive and more effort is spent on its extraction, life becomes harder. This matters because, as the availability of excess energy reduces, the “space of the possible”, that is, what humans are collectively able to achieve, shrinks with it. Humanity’s pressing challenge, therefore, is how to arrive at the “next level of abundance that leads to a better life for everyone”. Otherwise, according to Muthukrishna, the future will be bleak, with humanity beset by conflict over dwindling energy and resources.

Tapping into the energy contained within fossil fuels has driven society’s development since the Industrial Revolution, precipitating prosperity and increasing standards of living. Until relatively recently, energy seemed abundant.

To provide an approach to this enormously challenging future, A Theory of Everyone is divided into two parts. The first explains “who we are” and “how we got here”, detailing what the author proposes as the four “laws of life” which underpin human development: energy, innovation, cooperation and evolution. This layout is justified on the grounds that “the forces that shape our thinking, our economies, and our societies have become invisible to us”, and that in order to solve problems, we must first understand them. Part two then considers practical policy solutions that might begin to address our current predicament: “how this comprehensive theory of everyone can lead to practical policy applications.”

What distinguishes us is our capacity for social learning and imitation which has enabled each generation of humans to add to the stock of knowledge which is then acquired and marginally improved upon by each subsequent generation.

Given the scale and ambition of the book, it is perhaps unsurprising that the reader is left feeling disappointed by its suggestions for public policy. Muthukrishna essentially offers the following ideas: better designed immigration, educational and tax systems; start-up cities; programmable politics; the curation of free speech and genuine meritocracy; and improving the internet and social media. Taken by themselves, many of these ideas are sound, and if there were sufficient political will, ought to be implemented as soon as practically possible. There are also many powerful insights within the book that might help shift some common understandings, such as the assumption, which Muthukrishna powerfully counters, that what differentiates us as a species is our innate intelligence and ability to reason. Instead, what distinguishes us is our capacity for social learning and imitation which has enabled each generation of humans to add to the stock of knowledge which is then acquired and marginally improved upon by each subsequent generation. Our intelligence is therefore more the result of this evolving cultural “download” than it is thanks to raw ability.

It is difficult to see how the book’s policy ideas sufficiently match the scale of the challenges the author outlines.

However, some of these practical applications are frustratingly light on detail. For example, his proposals for “start-up cities” and “programme politics” in his chapter on governance in the twenty-first century are both sketched out only vaguely, with little sense of how they might be realised. Where ideas are fleshed out, they are sometimes caveated with qualifiers such as “this approach is one of many and may not even be the best approach”. On occasion the author struggles to move beyond platitudes, as in his very brief discussion of artificial intelligence: “More progress is needed to know the true limits of what machines can achieve and our role in all of this. The tides of progress can only be held back for so long.” It is difficult to see how the book’s policy ideas sufficiently match the scale of the challenges the author outlines.

Muthukrishna does not seem to appreciate, or at least makes no room for, the fact that a number of his fundamental assumptions, such as a belief in the underlying virtue of capitalism and economic growth, might not be universally shared. Others would want to see climate change given more thorough treatment.

These flaws do not mean that the book is without merit. A recognition of the world’s complexity and the author’s commitment to truth and the scientific method means he is robustly unafraid to court controversy. He lauds unfettered free speech, expresses scepticism towards affirmative action, and explores sex-based differences in intelligence, while on immigration he contends that new migrants bring “with them cultural values both desirable and less desirable”. Muthukrishna is arguably right not to shy away from these controversial areas for, as he argues, “we can only arrive at the truth in a diverse environment of different backgrounds, considering all hypotheses and ideas – both those we like and those we don’t.”

Muthukrishna is arguably right not to shy away from […] controversial areas for, as he argues, ‘we can only arrive at the truth in a diverse environment of different backgrounds, considering all hypotheses and ideas’

The book is also written in an engaging and accessible manner, and whilst it might fail to attain the heights it purports to reach, in its fresh thinking it is a welcome addition to the basket of literature that helps contemporary politicians, policymakers, and anyone with an interest in the direction of humanity grapple with the complexity of today’s challenges.

This post gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science. The LSE RB blog may receive a small commission if you choose to make a purchase through the above Amazon affiliate link. This is entirely independent of the coverage of the book on LSE Review of Books.

Image Credit: blvdone on Shutterstock.

In Afghanistan: Long War, Forgotten Peace, Michael Cox brings together scholars to analyse the failure of Afghan state-building, the Taliban’s resurgence and the country’s future. Anil Kaan Yildirim finds the book a valuable resource for understanding challenges the country faces, including women’s rights, the drugs economies and human trafficking and exploitation. However, he objects to the inclusion of a chapter which makes a geographically deterministic appraisal of Afghanistan’s governance.

Afghanistan: Long War, Forgotten Peace. Michael Cox (ed.). LSE Press. 2022.

This book is available Open Access here.

In Afghanistan: Long War, Forgotten Peace, Michael Cox gathers scholars, policymakers, and public intellectuals to shed light on the factors contributing to the failure of Afghan state-building, the successful takeover by the Taliban, and to share some insights on the country’s future. The chapters in the collection impart valuable insights on international law, human trafficking, women’s rights, NATO, and the international drug trade, with the exception of one essay that uses a problematic framework in its analysis of Afghan statehood and seems out of place within the book.

One of the main tasks of any state-building process is to create a political sphere that includes all parties to decide on policies and strategies shaping the future of the country.

One of the main tasks of any state-building process is to create a political sphere that includes all parties to decide on policies and strategies shaping the future of the country. However, in the case of Afghanistan, as argued by Michael Callen and Shahim Kabuli in Chapter Three, the de facto power structure did not align with the de jure systems of institutions. Excluding the Taliban from political discussions, adopting a fundamentally flawed and exclusionary electoral system, and employing a centralised presidential system which did not correspond to Afghan “diversity and reality” have been the “three sins” of the Afghanistan project. Along with these mistakes, the authors also identify the issues that created a “dysfunctional” state-building, including the lack of complete Afghan sovereignty within regional power dynamics, the diversion of the US’s focus to Iraq, and other foreign influences such as Russia and China that tried to attract the power-holders of the country. This powerful essay points out the three sins in the creation of the structure and other dynamics that destabilised the country. Thus,  the state-building project collapsed not because Afghanistan was unsuited to democracy, but because of a combination of many different mistakes.

The authors also identify the issues that created a “dysfunctional” state-building, including the lack of complete Afghan sovereignty within regional power dynamics, the diversion of the US’s focus to Iraq, and other foreign influences such as Russia and China

The role of women in the Afghan state-building effort is highly contested among different power holders, the international community, and the Taliban. Writing in this context in Chapter Six, Nargis Nehan explores the issue of women’s rights in Afghanistan before and after 9/11, positioning the matter within the spectrum of extremists, fundamentalists, and modernists. The highly masculinised country following many years of different wars created a challenging political and social area for women. Therefore, all changes in the political sphere resulted in a change in the lives of women.

Nargis Nehan explores the issue of women’s rights in Afghanistan before and after 9/11, positioning the matter within the spectrum of extremists, fundamentalists, and modernists.

As an internationalised state-building project, Afghanistan has challenged international institutions and norms. Devika Hovell and Michelle Hughes examine the US and its allies’ interpretation and application of international law in military intervention in Afghanistan. With discussion of several steps and actors of the intervention, they demonstrate how this operation stretched the definitions of self-defence, credibility, legal justification, and authority within international realm.

The book explores several other key problems in the country. These include Thi Hoang’s chapter on human trafficking problems such as forced labour, organ trafficking and sexual exploitation; John Collins, Shehryar Fazli and Ian Tennant’s chapter on the past and future of the international drug trade in Afghanistan; Leslie Vinjamuri on the future of the US’s global politics after its withdrawal from the state; and Feng Zhang on the Chinese government’s policy on Afghanistan.

The essays mentioned above demonstrate what happened, what could have been evaded and what the future holds for Afghanistan. However, the essay, “Afghanistan: Learning from History?” by Rodric Braithwaite is a questionable inclusion in the volume. By emphasising geographical determinism, this piece a problematic perspective on Afghanistan. The essay argues that the failure of the West’s state-building project was down to the “wild” character of Afghan governance historically, which he deems “… a combination of bribery, ruthlessness towards the weak, compromise with the powerful, keeping the key factions in balance and leaving well alone … (17)” or “… nepotism, compromise, bribery, and occasional threat” (26-27). This perspective paints a false image of how Afghan history is characterised by unethical, even brutal methods of governance. Also in this essay are many problematic cultural claims such as “… Afghans are good at dying for their country … (18).”

The limitation of the entire Afghan agency, history and political culture to a ruthless character and geography that always produces “terrible results” for state-building is a false narrative

The limitation of the entire Afghan agency, history and political culture to a ruthless character and geography that always produces “terrible results” for state-building is a false narrative, which is reflected in and supported by the postcolonial term for Afghanistan: the “graveyard of empires”. While many different tribes, states, and empires have successfully existed in the country, Western colonial armies’ defeats and recent state-building failures should not misrepresent the country as a savage place in need of taming. Rather, as the other essays in the book argue, research on these failures should examine the West’s role in precipitating them.

Not only does this piece disrespect the scholarship (including other authors of the book) by asserting the ontological ungovernability of the country, but its deterministic stance also disregards the thousands of lives lost in the struggle to contribute to Afghan life those who believed that the future is not destined by the past but can be built today. Additionally, using only three references (with one being the author’s own book), referring to the US as “America”, random usage of different terms and not providing the source of a quotation are all quite problematic for a lessons-learned-from-history essay.

Beyond the limitations of the essay in terms of how it frames the past, what is more damaging is the creation of a false image of Afghanistan for future researchers and policymakers. For the points mentioned above, including the false narrative of ‘graveyard of empires’, Nivi Manchanda’s Imagining Afghanistan: The History and Politics of Imperial Knowledge (2020) is worth consulting for in-depth insight into the colonial knowledge production system and its problematic portrayal of Afghanistan.

Braithwaite’s essay excepted, this book, exploring different political and historical issues from various perspectives, provides significant insights into what happened in Afghanistan and what the future holds for the nation

Braithwaite’s essay excepted, this book, exploring different political and historical issues from various perspectives, provides significant insights into what happened in Afghanistan and what the future holds for the nation. For practitioners, policymakers, and scholars seeking a broad perspective on state-building problems, policy limitations and relevant research areas in Afghanistan, this collection is a useful resource.

This post gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, or of the London School of Economics and Political Science. The LSE RB blog may receive a small commission if you choose to make a purchase through the above Amazon affiliate link. This is entirely independent of the coverage of the book on LSE Review of Books.

Image Credit: Trent Inness on Shutterstock.