The Father and the Foreigner

Ahmad Saidullah in The Quarterly Conversation:

Fater-and-the-foreigner If the old-fashioned Anglo-American gumshoe mystery typifies the supremacy of reason and detection with an entrenched belief in the rationality of society, its laws, justice, and morals, the Italian noir novel is without any such optimism. It thwarts the deductions and logical propulsions that lead to neat endings. Italian noir exemplifies the Foucauldian instrumentality of reason in the “mansion of power,” to use Pier Paolo Pasolini’s phrase, with conspiracies, compromises, cover-ups, and unsolved crimes resulting.

Not surprisingly, noir’s popularity soared during the polarizing and corrupt rule of the Christian Democrats, led by Giulio Andreotti, when the mafia and over two hundred urban terrorist outfits confronted the violence of the state. Under Berlusconi, new themes have emerged. Open xenophobia, cultural racism, machismo, the derogation of labor and human rights, and the usurpation of press freedoms have divided Italy. This has given rise to intellectual and creative ferment, evident from the new wave of noir stories.

This engagement of writing with social realities is what separates Italian noir from, say, the mystery pieces that have emerged from peaceful, happy, uncorrupt, and relatively homicide-free Scandinavia.

More here.

3QD Philosophy Prize Semifinalists

Hello,

The voting round of our philosophy prize (details here) is over. A total of 565 votes were cast for the 64 nominees (click here for full list of nominees). Thanks to the nominators and the voters for participating.

Carla Goller, a South Tyrolean graphic artist, has designed a “trophy” logo that our top twenty vote-getters may choose to display on their own blogs. So here they are, in descending order from the most voted-for:

  1. PhilPrizeSemi Der Wille Zur Macht und Sprachspiele: Nietzsche's Causal Essentialism
  2. The Space of Reasons: A Counterexample to Setiya
  3. Perverse Egalitarianism: Early Heidegger: Fundamental Ontology
  4. Edge of the American West: All noble things are as difficult as they are rare
  5. Larval Subjects: Object-Oriented Ontology and Scientific Naturalism
  6. Specter of Reason: Wise on Intelligent Design in the Classroom
  7. Another Heidegger Blog: Interview with Jeffery Malpas
  8. The Immanent Frame: Immanent Spirituality
  9. Blog & ~Blog: Graham Priest's Theory of Change
  10. 3 Quarks Daily: The Temporal Prospects of Humanity
  11. Larval Subjects: Speculative Realism and the Unheimlich
  12. Cognition & Culture: Descarte's Skull
  13. 3 Quarks Daily: Penne For Your Thought
  14. Underverse: Refuting “It,” Thus
  15. The Garden of Forking Paths: Defining Determinism and Such
  16. Tomkow: Blackburn, Truth and other Hot Topics
  17. Brain Hammer: Bandwidth and Storage in the Human Biocomputer
  18. PEA Soup: Scanlon on Moral Responsibility and Blame
  19. Philosophy, et cetera: Reflecting on Relativism
  20. Strange Doctrines: Third-World Zombies and (Ana) Qualiac Reference

The daily editors of 3 Quarks Daily will now pick the top six entries from these, and after possibly adding up to three “wildcard” entries, will send that list of finalists to Professor Dan Dennett on September 11. We will also post the list of finalists here on that date.

Good luck!

Abbas

Monday, September 7, 2009

Rumination on the Life, Death, and Particularly the Legacy of a Man Barely Necessary to Introduce to Y’All, Beyond Mentioning (1) His Initials, D, F, and W, and (2) The Fact That This Very Headline Owes Him, Obviously, Everything

Dfw Watching the legions of Michael Jackson fans make pilgrimages to and build cairns of flowers and stuffed toys at the Neverland Ranch in southern California, I can’t say I shared their sorrow exactly. I did sympathize: Boy, had I been there. When David Foster Wallace hanged himself at his own southern California home on September 12, 2008—that’s the closest I’ve ever been to crying over the death of someone I didn’t know. What roiled my emotions all the more was the now-too-late conviction that I’d betrayed Wallace.

DFW called himself a novelist, wanted to be remembered as a novelist, corresponded with novelists about the craft, labored for years over the 2.75 novels he managed to finish (the last 0.75 of which unfinished novels is being molded in a full 1.00 novel called The Pale King by editors at Little, Brown, his publishing company, at this very moment). But as of September 12, 2008, beyond the disappointing exception of a 3,209-word New Yorker story (“Good People”), I hadn’t read more than a few spare sentences of the fiction Wallace considered his life’s work. Instead, all the riffs on dictionaries and tennis and John McCain and porno award shows that I’d committed to memory practically (I don’t even play tennis), all the lines I quoted to uncomprehending family members and the pieces I forwarded incessantly to friends who never read them, were from magazine articles. I loved Wallace for journalistic essays—what in less polite terms novelists often refer to as hack work—that Wallace did for mercenary reasons, because an editor dangled a paycheck, and he was polite, and he needed money like the rest of us.

Now there’s no reason to think Wallace loathed writing nonfiction—it just wasn’t his passion. He aligned himself with Dostoevsky and Pynchon, not Capote and Talese, and there’s even scuttlebutt out there that he killed himself in despair over his unshapely mess of a last book and the pressure of never living up to, well, himself. I will read that last book when it comes out, for sure, and since last September I’ve decoded a fair number of his hermetic short stories and even committed a month to finishing (and I did finish!) all 1,079 pages of Infinite Jest, down to every last little cross-eyed footnote’s footnote. I felt less guilty after finishing, but yet finishing only reinforced what I’d suspected. When the Library of America editors get around to selecting a picture of the long-haired, bandana-ed, tobacco-cheeked Wallace for its 2050 catalogues, they’re not going to spotlight his fiction in this first volume. It’ll be the nonfiction he composed during spare hours.

Read more »

What Kind of Space Is Cyberspace?

by Jeff Strabone

What kind of space is cyberspace? Of all the things we take for granted, cyberspace is near the top of the list. The promise of the internet in the twenty-first century is to make everything always available to everyone everywhere. All of human culture and achievement, the great and the not so great, may, one day soon, be a click away.

When one is online, cyberspace can seem a lot like outer space or, to use the latest jargon, 'the cloud'. It appears infinite and ethereal. The information is simply out there. If, instead, we thought more about the real-world energy and the real estate that the internet uses, we would start to realize that things are not so simple. Cyberspace is in fact physical space. And the longer it takes us to change our concept of the internet—to see quite clearly its physical there-ness—the closer we'll get to blogging our way to oblivion.

Read more »

Monday Poem

Lucky Again

Yesterday today
might never come but
I'm lucky again

It did and here you are
my bulwark against
a stark sea

In the garden you began
years ago in our plot of sand
where little grew but

wild strawberries
close to the ground their
tendrils groping dry earth

we now have hibiscus
with blossoms the size of
dinner plates

and day lilies in colors
of all things that make
death an illusion

For years under your baton
we’ve sown our sand with
death’s stuff

mown grass, dry leaves,
the remnants of meals,
manure of nearby farms

until what was dry is lush
was empty is full
was barren is flush

Today tomorrow
may never come but here
you are and I am
…………………………….

lucky again

by Jim Culleny; August 2009

Losing the Plot: (Civil War)

Maniza Naqvi Meanguy

Chapter One: The Little Coffee Shop

Chapter Two: The Hotel

Chapter 3: Dreaming Dulles

Stanley knew—Eileen would have him murdered. It was understandable. At another time he would have done the same. And the hours left to save her—someone who was life itself to him–were but a few. Madness—to have made so much of nothing—But Eileen would've and had. Eileen had been directed to find a problem. Eileen had done as she was told. Damned if the eager ambitious good soldier wouldn’t have done her job—reported success. No one on either side of the river ever admitted failure. And Eileen, when this was done, and as was the way, would move on. Up and on. Propelled by a sense of entitled good fortune. A higher calling another institution. Perhaps even a corner office and a view of the Potomac. Collateral damage would be the job left to be unearthed by researchers, decades from now—But there are no remedies, no reparations, no atonements for the loss of flesh and blood. Stanley would not be able to bear it. Not now. He would have to make it right.

Eileen had gone back and returned now—on Labor Day weekend. Must have been something pressing to miss out on a long weekend and be here instead. Missing Memorial Day and this one, was not done often by Washingtonians. A tradition revered: of saluting warriors and nodding to workers punctuating the beginning and end of a short summer. He thought back to those weekends away—affairs, of shadows and shades of verandahs and spires—–and out there on the beach—sunshine–umbrellas, dolphins–children jumping waves and gathering Cape May diamonds scooping them into empty vanilla shake cups—The crowds on the Boardwalk—families strolling in packs, clans and tribes–—crew cuts—ray bans; breasts, bleached hair–and tanned thighs— the accents speaking lines of foreign lands—and those Mason-Dixon lines. Hard candy, fudge and Southern Fried- and stomping on chickens and frogs in arcades–The flag lowering ceremonies at sunset, his hand on his heart back then—choking with emotion and pride. God Bless America—my home sweet home! A long time ago–all that. Now an echo of whatever never came to be.

Read more »

On Being in Japan and Elsewhere

by Daniel Rourke

Japan. That’s where I am. With the rice-triangles and the tatami-mats and row upon row of vending machines. In a country where serving others is paramount, and where holidays are something that other people do, I find myself being served – on holiday… I am the ultimate gaijin 1 and every ticket I buy and photo I take seems to confirm this. I came to see Japan. But now I realise that the culture of seeing has been commodified into an experience in itself, and perhaps not an experience any of us are capable of moving beyond alone.

Not I, but WE are in Japan...

Please don’t misunderstand me. I love Japan. I lived here from 2004 until 2006, teaching English on the outskirts of a medium sized city on the island of Kyushu. The experience enriched me, precisely because it tore me from my anchors. Because it helped me understand where I had come from. On the surface Japan behaves like the perfect machine, with all its components functioning within designated parameters. And what’s more, that machine just seems to work, with hardly anyone screaming to get off. The Japanese are a nation in a very different sense to us Brits. And for a small-town, West Yorkshire boy like myself, being part of that nation, that huge entity, all be it for only 24 months of my life, is still one of my most humbling experiences.

But even as I gush about Japan being here can often feel like toiling through an endless urban labyrinth. With little of cultural merit to distinguish the pachinko parlours from the snack bars and multi-storey car parks Japan can seem grey, shallow and everything but refined. But when it surprises you, whether you’re picking blueberries in the mountains or being served delicate morsels of fish in the private room of your ryokan, Japan redefines the word privileged. I feel privileged to have lived here, I feel privileged to be travelling through it. Yet, keeping hold of that feeling is not always easy.

Read more »

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Mistaking Beauty for Truth in Science and in Economics

Sean Carroll on Paul Krugman's NYT Magazine piece:

One of the reasons it’s a great essay is that it’s a wonderful example of popularizing science. You can debate all you like about whether economics counts as a science, but there’s little doubt that Krugman does an amazing job at explaining esoteric ideas in non-technical language, and is so smooth about it that you hardly realize difficult ideas are even being discussed. I wish I could write like that.

One part of the essay worth commenting on, or at least musing about, is the punchline. Krugman thinks that a major factor leading to the failures of economics to understand the mess we’re currently in was the temptation to think that beautiful models must be right…

Without knowing much of anything about the relevant issues, I nevertheless suspect that this moral might be a bit too pat. Sure, people can fall in love with beautiful theories, to the extent that they overestimate their relationship to reality. But it seems likely to me that the correct way of understanding all this, once it’s properly understood, will look pretty beautiful as well. General relativity is widely held up as an example of a beautiful theory — and it is, when understood in its own language. But if you put the prediction of GR in the Solar System into the language of pre-existing Newtonian physics (which you could certainly do), it would look ugly and ad hoc. Likewise, Newton’s theory itself is quite elegant, when phrased in the language of potentials on a fixed spacetime background; but if you express the theory in terms of differential geometry (which you could certainly do), it looks like a mess. Sometimes the beauty/ugly distinction between theoretical conceptions is more a matter of how well we understand them, and less about their intrinsic qualities.

Paul Krugman on Sean's point:

[O]n an interesting point raised by Discover (via Mark Thoma): won’t we eventually have a true theory that’s as beautiful as the full neoclassical version? Well, one thing’s for sure: we don’t have that beautiful final theory now, so the current choice is between ideas that are beautiful but wrong and a much messier hodgepodge. But my guess is that even in the long run it won’t be all that neat. Discover suggests general relativityversus Newtonian physics; but a better model may be meteorology, which as I understand it starts from some simple basic principles but is fiendishly complex in practice.

Actually, let me put it this way: the economy is a complex system of interacting individuals — and these individuals themselves are complex systems. Neoclassical economics radically oversimplifies both the individuals and the system — and gets a lot of mileage by doing that; I, for one, am not going to banish maximization-and-equilibrium from my toolbox. But the temptation is always to keep on applying these extreme simplifications, even where the evidence clearly shows that they’re wrong. What economists have to do is learn to resist that temptation. But doing so will, inevitably, lead to a much messier, less pretty view.

Is Quantum Mechanics Messing with Your Memory?

Broken-glass-003Michael Slezak in the Guardian:

Imagine if a cold cup of coffee spontaneously heated up as you watched. Or a cracked pane of glass suddenly un-broke. According to physicist Lorenzo Maccone at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, you see things like this all the time – you just don’t remember.

In a paper published last week in Physical Review Letters, he attempts to provide a solution to what has been called the mystery of “the arrow-of-time”.

Briefly, the problem is that while our laws of physics are all symmetrical or “time-reversal invariant” – they apply equally well if time runs forwards or backwards – most of the everyday phenomena we observe, like the cooling of hot coffee, are not. They never seem to happen in reverse.

We have a statistical law that describes these everyday phenomena called the Second Law of Thermodynamics. This law tells us that the “entropy” or degree of disorder of a closed system never decreases. Roughly speaking, a process in which entropy increases is one where the system becomes increasingly disordered. Windows break, thereby increasing disorder, but they will not spontaneously unbreak. Gases will disperse but not spontaneously compress.

However, entropy describes what happens with large numbers of particles. We presume that it must arise from what happens with individual particles, but all the laws that govern the behaviour of individual particles are time-reversal invariant. This means that any process they allow in one direction of time, they also allow in the other.

So why will your coffee spontaneously cool down, but not heat up?

Maccone’s solution is to suggest that in fact entropy-decreasing events occur all the time – so there is no asymmetry and no associated mystery about the arrow of time.

He argues that quantum mechanics dictates that if anyone does observe an entropy-decreasing event, their memories of the event “will have been erased by necessity”.

Sexual Violence in Conflict Zones

Goya5_460wA roundtable discussion with Miranda Alison, Debra Bergoffen, Pasquale Bos, Louise du Toit, Regina Mühlhäuser and Gaby Zipfel in Eurozine:

Louise du Toit: War is a boys’ game. War and the figure of the warrior are closely entwined with hegemonic and hetero-normative masculinities. In her book The Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry makes us intensely aware of the extent to which traditional and modern warfare take place on a symbolic plane – the extent to which they are imaginary constructs.[1] The identity of the warrior, soldier or freedom fighter is closely tied up with the image of the hero, who challenges and risks, but also wields death for some supposed greater good. The Italian feminist Adriana Cavarero sees the heroic risking of personal death as a cornerstone of idealized masculinity in the West.

In material terms, of course, armed conflicts are often about the expansion of male-owned power-bases, including access to land, minerals, and other resources such as oil. To my mind, therefore, the very notion of “war” needs to be interrogated before one looks at the set of questions at hand. For gangs of youngsters on the Cape Flats, or gangs of criminals in Johannesburg, one could say that, irrespective of the official status of the country as a whole, their lives are characterized by perpetual warfare, and indeed that is the language they themselves employ. The metaphor of war dominates their lives and so crowds out other possibilities for them. South Africa as a nation-state need not be at war with any other state for these young men to inhabit, on a permanent basis, a parallel universe that constitutes a war zone. Built into the rhetoric of war is the notion or value of survival, which legitimizes conduct that would not be permissible otherwise. In other words, war per definition entails an exceptional situation or period that calls for exceptional sacrifices and exceptional conduct.

C (for Crisis)

9780713995633Eric Hobsbawm reviews Richard Overy’s The Morbid Age: Britain between the Wars in the LRB:

There is a major difference between the traditional scholar’s questions about the past – ‘What happened in history, when and why?’ – and the question that has, in the last 40 years or so, come to inspire a growing body of historical research: namely, ‘How do or did people feel about it?’ The first oral history societies were founded in the late 1960s. Since then the number of institutions and works devoted to ‘heritage’ and historical memory – notably about the great 20th-century wars – has grown explosively. Studies of historical memory are essentially not about the past, but about the retrospect to it of some subsequent present. Richard Overy’s The Morbid Age demonstrates another, and less indirect, approach to the emotional texture of the past: the difficult excavation of contemporary popular reactions to what was happening in and around people’s lives – one might call it the mood music of history.

Though this type of research is fascinating, especially when done with Overy’s inquisitiveness and surprised erudition, it presents the historian with considerable problems. What does it mean to describe an emotion as characteristic of a country or era; what is the significance of a socially widespread emotion, even one plainly related to dramatic historical events? How and how far do we measure its prevalence? Polling, the current mechanism for such measurement, was not available before c.1938. In any case, such emotions – the extremely widespread dislike of Jews in the West, for instance – were obviously not felt or acted on in the same way by, say, Adolf Hitler and Virginia Woolf. Emotions in history are neither chronologically stable nor socially homogeneous, even in the moments when they are universally felt, as in London under the German air-raids, and their intellectual representations even less so. How can they be compared or contrasted? In short, what are historians to make of the new field?

The specific mood Overy looks into is the sense of crisis and fear, ‘a presentiment of impending disaster’, the prospect of the end of civilisation, that, in his view, characterised Britain between the wars. There is nothing specifically British or 20th-century about such a mood.

The Secret Lives of Somerset Maugham

Nicholas Shakespeare in The Telegraph:

Shakespeare_summar_1474652f In 1954, shortly after his 80th birthday, William Somerset Maugham was shown the in-house abattoir of a Swiss clinic in Vevey and then injected with the minced foetus of a freshly slaughtered sheep by means of a large horse-syringe into his buttocks. Other patients who had sought to recapture their youth in this manner were: Charlie Chaplin, Noël Coward, Thomas Mann and Pope Pius XII.

Later, apparently revitalised by his treatment, the most widely read English writer since Dickens was observed by an elderly lady on Vevey railway station trying to play hide-and-seek with Alan Searle, the last of his secretary-companions. “Yoo-hoo,” Maugham called from behind a pillar. When the red-faced Searle reprimanded him, the woman was quick to scold: “You should be gentle with that nice old man. He thinks he’s Somerset Maugham.”

More here.

Smile! It Could Make You Happier

From Scientific American:

Smile We smile because we are happy, and we frown because we are sad. But does the causal arrow point in the other direction, too? A spate of recent studies of botox recipients and others suggests that our emotions are reinforced—perhaps even driven—by their corresponding facial expressions. Charles Darwin first posed the idea that emotional responses influence our feelings in 1872. “The free expression by outward signs of an emotion intensi­fies it,” he wrote. The esteemed 19th-cen­tury psychologist William James went so far as to assert that if a person does not express an emotion, he has not felt it at all. Although few scientists would agree with such a statement today, there is evidence that emotions in­volve more than just the brain. The face, in particular, appears to play a big role.

This February psychologists at the University of Cardiff in Wales found that people whose ability to frown is comp­romised by cosmetic botox inject­ions are happier, on average, than people who can frown.

More here.

The Brazilian Sphinx

Lorrie Moore in the New York Review of Books:

Fotoclarice Before beginning this review, I took a quick unscientific survey: Who had read the work of the Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector? When I consulted with Latin American scholars (well, only four of them) they grew breathless in their praise. She was a goddess; she was Brazilian literature's greatest writer. Further inquiry revealed some misunderstandings about her life, a life that clearly had reached mythic proportions, with a myth's errors and idiosyncratic details. Still, Lispector was held in reverent esteem by all four, though one believed she had died tragically in a fire (not so, although in her forties Lispector was burned on one side of her body, including her right hand, by a fire she accidentally started by smoking a cigarette in bed). Others were under the impression that she was a lifelong lesbian (also not so).

On the other hand, when I asked American and British writers (nine) whether they had read Lispector's work, I could find very few who had even heard of her. Some had heard of her—they thought—but knew nothing about her and had not read her. Some had read her novels and recalled them as “intense.” Others had read a short story or two in some anthology or other. (I myself have spent most of my life in this last, somewhat dishonorable category.) I then went to Amazon .com—is there a more coarsely ironic place to assess the public reception of a Brazilian woman writer?—where the customer reviews from Brasília and São Paulo were glowing. But the American responses were often tepid, including one that suggested giving Lispector's novel The Hour of the Star as an April Fool's gift to a person you don't like very much, telling that person it's the best book you've ever read.

More here.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

ECONOMICS IS NOT NATURAL SCIENCE

Douglas Rushkoff at Edge:

Rushkoff We must stop perpetuating the fiction that existence itself is dictated by the immutable laws of economics. These so-called laws are, in actuality, the economic mechanisms of 13th Century monarchs. Some of us analyzing digital culture and its impact on business must reveal economics as the artificial construction it really is. Although it may be subjected to the scientific method and mathematical scrutiny, it is not a natural science; it is game theory, with a set of underlying assumptions that have little to do with anything resembling genetics, neurology, evolution, or natural systems.

More here.

Losing Teeth, But Keeping Genes

Carl Zimmer in his excellent blog, The Loom:

3821_file_Pangolin_Balfour Charles Darwin was interested not just in how new things evolve, but also in how old things disappear. Often, they don’t disappear completely without a trace. We don’t have a visible tail like our primate ancestors did, but we still have a series of little bones tucked away at the bottom of the spine. While it may not function like a full-blown tail, it still anchors muscles around the pelvis. Blind cavefish may not have eyes of the sort found on their cousins in the outside world, but they still start to develop eyes as larva, before the cells start to die away.

Sometimes, though, the only place to look for vestiges of a lost trait is in a genome.

In the journal PLOS Genetics, Mark Springer of the University of California and his colleagues have published an intriguing study of how teeth–and the genes for teeth–have faded away over the past 50 million years.

More here.

Pakistan’s Higher Education Reform Experiment

The journal Nature has just published a paper entitled “Pakistan's reform experiment” by Athar Osama, Adil Najam, Shamsh Kassim-Lakha, Syed Zulfiqar Gilani & Christopher King. Unfortunately, the paper is only available to subscribers to the journal. The editors of Nature have, however, also published an editorial in the same issue about Pakistan's education reforms:

Eight years ago, a task force advising Pakistan's former military ruler, General Pervez Musharraf, laid out a bold plan to revitalize the country's moribund research system: initiate a fivefold increase in public funding for universities, with a special emphasis on science, technology and engineering. The proposal was a radical departure from conventional wisdom on the economics of developing nations, which favours incremental investments. Sudden surges of cash are held to be dangerous in poorer countries, which often lack the institutions or the calibre of people required to make the most of such a windfall, and the money can easily be wasted or fall prey to corruption.

Nonetheless, Musharraf agreed to the proposal. The reforms began in 2003. And the results, which have now earned a qualified thumbs-up from a group of experts in science and education policy (see page 38), offer some valuable lessons for other developing nations.

More here. Pervez Hoodbhoy, one of Pakistan's most respected scientists, and a well-known social and political analyst and activist, has been very critical of Pakistan's Higher Education Commision in the past, and he sent me a copy of a letter that he has written to Nature about the above-mentioned paper and their editorial. I am (with Pervez's permission) publishing it below. I shall also ask Adil Najam (one of the co-authors of the paper, and a 3QD friend) to respond to Pervez's letter, and if he does so, I will publish his response as well. This is Pervez's letter:

“Pakistan's Reform Experiment” (Nature, V461, page 38, 3 September 2009)
gives the impression of providing a factual balance sheet of Pakistan's
higher education under General Pervez Musharraf's former government.
Unfortunately, several critical omissions indicate a partisan bias.

Mention of the billions wasted on mindless prestige mega-projects is
noticeably absent. Example: nine new universities were hastily conceived
and partially constructed, but abandoned and finally scrapped after it
became obvious that it was impossible to provide them with the most
crucial ingredient – trained faculty. Similarly, fantastically expensive
scientific equipment, imported with funds from the Higher Education
Commission, remain hopelessly under-utilized many years later. They litter
the country's length and breadth. For instance, my university has been
forced to house a “souped-up” Van de Graaf accelerator facility, purchased
in 2005 with HEC funds. A research purpose is still being sought in 2009.

The authors conveniently choose not to mention that the 400% claimed
increase in the number of publications was largely a consequence of giving
huge payments to professors for publishing in international journals,
irrespective of actual substance and quality. Not surprisingly these
cash-per-paper injections had the effect of producing a plagiarism
pandemic, one that is still out of control. In a country where academic
ethics are poor and about a third of all students cheat in examinations,
penalties for plagiarism by teachers and researchers are virtually
non-existent.

Citing Thomson Scientific, the authors claim a large rise in the “relative
impact” in some disciplines, based upon citation levels of papers
published between 2003 and 2007. But did the authors try to eliminate
self-citations (a deliberate ploy) from this count? If they had – as I did
using an available option in the Thomson Scientific package – they might
actually have found the opposite result.

Read more »