This chapter discusses Ockham’s views of the formation and character of syncategorematic terms and the roles these views play in his metaphysics and philosophy of language. Ockham claims that thoughts are sentences composed of categorematic and syncategorematic terms and spoken and written descriptions are subordinated to them. He maintains that everything in his ontology can be signified by a categorematic term while syncategorematic terms do not signify. For Ockham, categorematic terms can be thought of as effects of causal contacts made with things and some contemporary scholars, and some of Ockham’s contemporaries, extend this picture to syncategorematic terms as well. This chapter argues that Ockham rejects this extension, denies that distinct true sentences are made true by distinct beings, and embraces the conclusion that there are more truths than truth-makers with profound consequences for his metaphysics.

This chapter outlines the colonial history of the CFA franc, and how to transition to a new currency, the eco, in West Africa. The CFA franc currently circulates in fourteen African countries divided into two monetary zones in West and Central Africa and this chapter starts by explaining the role currently played by the European Union institutions and the French Treasury in the currency’s governance in West Africa. The chapter goes on to discuss the different positions within the debate about how to transition to the eco and ends by outlining the most appealing roadmap for currency reform and monetary sovereignty in the West African region.

Question 1: Paediatric autoimmune neuropsychiatry disorder associated with streptococcal infections (PANDAS) occurs between three years and the onset of puberty. Which of the following manifestations is commonly seen in PANDAS?

The external dimension of the EU migration policy relies to a large extent on its development policy to foster ‘mutually beneficial partnerships’ between the EU and non-EU states. While political conditionality remains a fundamental axis of the EU’s external relations, a curious ‘twist’ of events has led to the emergence of ‘migration-based’ conditionality, especially in the aftermath of the 2015–2016 ‘migration crisis’. Conditionality can be broadly defined as the EU’s leverage of different instruments to lead non-EU states to comply with certain norms. In the context of the EU development policy, conditionality traditionally relates to human rights, democracy, and good governance. In the context of migration, however, these norms are mostly connected with the readmission of nationals. While migration-based conditionality might appear as a deviation from a more ‘righteous’ form of conditionality, this contribution argues that this is incorrect. Through a critical review of the EU development policy going back to its colonial roots, this chapter intends to show that migration-based conditionality stems from political conditionality and not that it strays from it. In doing so, it seeks to highlight how migration-based conditionality reflects a hierarchical access to mobility still rooted in colonial racism.

Nabis, the tyrannos of the Lakedaimonians, killed Pelops the son of King Lykourgos, who was a child at the time.1 This was a matter of precaution, since the child, when he came of age, might restore the freedom of his country, using the assurance of his noble birth. He also selected the most accomplished Lakedaimonians and put them to death, and gathered mercenaries of the worst type from everywhere to guard his power. Thus temple robbers, thieves, brigands, and those sentenced to death came to Sparta from every place. He had made himself tyrannos through his impiety, and he believed that only by such people could he best be guarded.

In Tusculans 1 Cicero gives a lengthy rebuttal of the thesis that death is an evil. This raises a puzzle: how can such a one-sided presentation aspire to reveal whether it is more plausible that death is or is not an evil? Invoking the Tusculans’ practical aim – the removal of emotional disturbance – does not fully satisfy, since it is unclear how effective persuasion can be if the contrary position does not receive a fair hearing. I show that as main speaker in the book Cicero warns against over-confidence in embracing positions that one wishes to be true; and I argue that as author Cicero portrays the interlocutor of Tusculans 1 as a salutary example of how not to approach the kind of questions about death with which the work engages. We are encouraged to see the interlocutor’s failure as one not of character but of inexperience in philosophical method.

In chapter one, Brian Ó Conchubhair offers an examination of the metadiscourse “Revival” as a concept and the relation between revivalism and periodization. Narratives of revival too often repeat inaccurate narratives of Irish culture, to the point that our understanding of the Irish past, of Irish institutions and landscapes, suffers from unexamined conclusions about the Revival’s social and political efficacy and from images and tropes of Irishness that modern critics inherited from early revivalists. This is particularly apparent in the conception, promoted by some early revivalists, of the West of Ireland as a site of authentic Irishness. Indeed, in the Gaeltachtaí (Irish speaking regions), which have long been idealized as a stronghold of original or pure Irishness, a kind of zombification has taken place, one that in some ways displaces the long tradition of antiquarian and archaeological projects of cultural renewal and restoration.

Question 1: In a patient presenting with unilateral right lower limb weakness, which of the following physical findings suggest a functional weakness?

The brief introduction ponders and speculates about the reasons that the evolutionary perspective, which has made significant advances in many subfields of psychology, has not made a similar progress in developmental psychology. It highlights some of the crucial differences between developmental psychology and evolutionary psychology. The introduction then concludes by briefly introducing and highlighting the individual contributions to the volume.

This introductory chapter discusses how archaeologists have studied and represented pastoralism, often in ways that parallel the tropes that the film Grass introduced. Despite decades of work and varied approaches associated with different theoretical traditions, archaeologists largely have not written histories of pastoralism that address continuity and change. The archaeology of pastoralism faces four longstanding problems that contribute to an ongoing tendency to see pastoralists as changeless: (1) conceptual conflation, (2) misuse of ethnographic analogy, (3) a paucity of direct data, and (4) separate regional traditions of research.

Sir Thomas More’s Utopia provides an occasion to delve into how fiscal policy and administrative activity constitute forms of worldmaking. This chapter argues that More’s Utopia places the challenges of defining and funding security at the center of its project, both in Book One’s critique of contemporary rule and in Book Two’s thought experiment about how to govern security. Utopia, as an alternative to contemporary Europe, can be seen as an attempt to resolve the fiscal security dilemmas besetting European governments by eliminating private property and money. The presence of other polities, though, complicates the effort to imagine a world in which security is distributed equitably, a world without fiscal conflict or the violence that monarchical wealth enables. Utopia thus provides both a powerful diagnosis of the shortcomings of contemporary governmental practice and a meditation on the limits of the ability to govern security.

The chapter examines global risks that are exceedingly complex and characterized by the long time horizons entailed in their governance. It argues that the dynamics of climate change, biodiversity loss, pandemics, and other system-spanning challenges are now forcing pragmatists and skeptics alike to push their thinking beyond the kinds of experiments in risk governance discussed in previous chapters. They suggest the need for profound socioeconomic transformation, eventually forcing deep structural political change at the system level. Complex and slow-moving crises with transnational dimensions will not be managed successfully by nation-states assigning priority to their own autonomy. The essential question comes back to the fore. Might the “insuring instinct” today be harnessed in zones that stretch the limits of risk calculation quickly enough to sustain more ambitious forms of collaborative governance? More specifically, can existing political authorities in vital and inherently complex policy arenas effectively deploy insurance narratives to move beyond voluntary and reversible intergovernmental arrangements without provoking self-defeating backlashes? The chapter reviews current analyses of key cases where private insurance reach their limits, but insurance metaphors promise to be politically useful.

Chapter 2 examines, often through the eyes and voices of aspirant learners, the varied paths that adults and children from a range of social classes took to learn stringed instruments, and the nature of the instruction they obtained. Through discussion of the violin trade, it addresses the affordability of instruments and accessories, arguing also that commerce powered the spread of violin culture geographically by creating a functional infrastructure. The chapter’s major concern is with the role of inexpensive group instruction in widening participation among the working classes through opportunities for learning in adult-education institutes in major cities, and in elementary schools, where the commercial “Maidstone” teaching program reached remarkable numbers of children. It highlights the persistence of Victorian values in these projects and reveals that group instruction subsequently became embedded nationally in many lower-profile string-teaching initiatives run by private teachers or as small academies. It further posits that the Maidstone movement had an impact on the subsequent development of classical-music audiences in Britain.

In her chapter, Heather Laird examines twenty-first century commemorations, such as the bicentennial of the Irish Rebellion of 1798 and the centennial of the Easter Rising of 1916. From the time of the peak era of Revival to the present, a vision of Ireland has emerged that values tradition but that also reckons with the failures of tradition to govern modern lives. The statues and exhibitions that arose in preparation for these celebrations are the visible signs of the very future envisioned in 1798 and 1916. Laird’s examination of twenty-first century commemorations of the Dublin Lockout of 1913 and the commemoration of it in 2013 suggests that revivalism resists this idea of cultural salvage and actively serves a world to come. She discusses two 2013 commemoration projects, Living the Lockout and the 1913 Lockout Tapestry, latter-day manifestations of a persistent revivalist impulse to make the past productive of the future.