Vivisection

1. What about the question of whether or not vivisection actually helps reduce human suffering?
2. How has the debate changed today with the advances in technology?
3. What is a middle ground in this debate?

Perhaps the question now is less relevant than it was back then, because in all likelihood as time goes on, vivisection's helpfulness decreases as we discover more and more about the working's of the human body with every year. I've heard some grim statistics about the accuracy of conclusions about the human body reached through vivisection, and I'd certainly like to believe that today we have new, better, more effective ways to make these kind of medical breakthroughs.

The author focuses on the weighing of pity, which I think is an important factor, but not the most important. After all, before you can even weigh who should pain inflicted upon them you must first ascertain that 1) someone must have pain inflicted on them and 2) that the common good is in fact served by that pain.

I would not be able to have an intelligent debate about the ethics of vivisection unless I had the facts on its effectiveness. After all, if vivisection is proven to be an unreliable source of information, the debate evaporates entirely.

Commentary for Christie Cutler

 (Sorry this is late, Christie, I've been really sick these past few days. I hope it still helps.)

According to the commentary outline he provided us, I'd like to recommend the following:

1. Add a title that reflects the content of your analysis.
2. Clarify your thesis so that it clearly states your analysis and sets the tone for your essay.
3. Organize your quotes and commentary into the classical argument structure, including topic sentences for each paragraph.
4. While you identified some logos appeals, try clarifying the strategies the author uses and analyze their effectiveness.
5. Similarly, with ethos and pathos appeals, add more examples and provide a clear critique of their effectiveness.
6. OPTIONAL: Consider adding an analysis of the author's appeal to kairos if you're struggling to meet the required length.

I hope it helps, and good luck!

Sontag's "Reagrding the Pain of Others"

1. Does the value of portraying the true nature of death/war/destruction outweigh the negative response such images can cause?
2. How much should such images be trusted as representative of an event?
3. What are the ethical standards for what should and should not be shown?

I remember, when studying in a history class, I saw a picture of a young Asian child (I believe she was Vietnamese) crying over the corpse of, presumably, her father. The image was so powerful in the raw grief it portrayed that I still sometimes see it in my mind when I think about war. For me, that image forever humanized distant wars as real events with real consequences for real people with real lives and families and hopes and dreams and pains. I think, in that sense, such images are crucial.

At the same time, I can only imagine being that girl, and seeing that photo, and being forcefully reminded of the trauma and loss. I can imagine being someone like her, and being similarly affected by such an image. When I saw the mugshot of teacher who had sexually harassed me in middle school  in the news, my stomach sank and I felt like I couldn't breathe, just from the image. Again, I can only imagine that feeling magnified for the circumstance of grisly death, injury, and destruction. Sometimes, for some traumas, any time is "too soon."

So I'm torn on the issue. I want there to be a way to make real to the world the horrors that go on everyday, so that they would be roused into action to try to prevent such suffering when and how they could. At the same time, I don't want to cause pain to those who have already suffered. I wish I had a good solution, but I don't. I don't even have an adequate standard for how the two aspects should be weighed in individual circumstances. This is an issue, for me at least, without an answer and without a solution.

Sontag's "9/11" and "A Few Weeks After"

1. What is the best, most productive response to a tragedy such as 9/11?
2. What are the true goals of terrorists?
3. What were the true goals of the Bush administration's foreign policy?

I was very young when the tragedy happened; only 6 years old, in fact. I don't remember the exact moment I learned what had happened but I vividly recall the days following it. I sat at my desk in my elementary school classroom and thought about it constantly, drawing the horrifying scene in my head and, more often than not, imagining myself and the people I loved in the smoldering wreckage. I wasn't thinking about the people who did it, but rather fixated on the victims. The lives lost, forever. Even at that age I was able to draw the connection between knowing people had died and knowing that people, real human beings with dreams and families and pets and friends had been ripped from the earth, and that it could have so easily been someone I loved stolen away.

As a child, preoccupied with a developing appreciation for the innate value of human life and, in a very real sense, lost in my own empathy, my only response to the tragedy was a lot of crying and hugging. Appropriate for my age, most likely, but not a response that would be appropriate of, say, the leaders of the free world's "superpower." If I had been older when it happened, I might have turned to political leaders, watching them carefully to see how they reacted. I would have wanted empathy from them, of course. I would want to see them grieving. But I would also want to see them thinking, figuring out why the tragedy happened and how similar atrocities could be prevented in the future; and, of course, I'd want to see all good ideas followed through. Real, concrete action based on solid, rational thought.

What Sontag seemed to see in America's leaders, however, was little more than rhetoric, or what she called "confidence-building and grief management." She saw all the leaders from different political factions come together and offer meaningless comfort to a grieving nation that likely needed more action. Sontag said, "Politics, the politics of a democracy—which entails disagreement, which promotes candor—has been replaced by psychotherapy." While I'm a huge fan of psychotherapy in many situations, I would have to agree with Sontag that it was not what our nation needed. After all, if a soldier loses his leg on the battlefield, it is probably more important to give him a tourniquet than an Advil.

Hitchens' "Believe Me, It's Torture"

1. What laws exist (within the U.S. or internationally) regarding what is classified as torture?
2. What standards should be used to determine if an interrogation method is torture or not?
3. What would be an ethical, effective way of extracting critical information regarding national security from enemy combatants?

 It's hard for me to judge the strength of Hitchens' argument, both regarding water-boarding's classification as a torture and the underlying assertion that torture should not be practiced in any form, when my own position is already so firmly in agreement. Torture (including, in my own mind, the practice of water-boarding) is one of a few select issues where I have extreme difficulty understanding the opposite side, or seeing much of any credibility in the opposing arguments, even hypothetically. It simply horrifies me to such a dramatic extent that I can hardly even imagine a debate about the issue.

Hitchens, on the other hand, seems much more understanding of the opposing side. He presents it as fairly as I can imagine anyone being able to do, stating that the opposing view feels that: "When contrasted to actual torture, waterboarding is more like foreplay..." and "[A]ny call to indict the United States for torture is therefore a lame and diseased attempt to arrive at a moral equivalence between those who defend civilization and those who exploit its freedoms to hollow it out, and ultimately to bring it down."

When stated this way, I can almost hesitantly bring myself to some kind of understanding. But this argument personally falls flat for me, because within my own personal view of morality, the morality of one should not determine whether they are treated humanely. I do not believe in the death penalty for convicted murderers or rapists, and similarly, I do not believe in torturing even those who are morally despicable. I find it so endlessly worrisome to think about: if we give ourselves the power to decide who "deserves" torture, then we unwittingly give others the same power. Hitchens is right when he quotes Mr. Malcolm Nance. If we decide torture (or/including waterboarding) is acceptable to use against our enemies, then our enemies must have every right to decide that is acceptable against us.

So that brings me to my question: how can we define what practices constitute torture? I already firmly believe water-boarding qualifies, but what else does? Keeping prisoners or POWs or enemy combatants in darkness, denying them adequate food or water, isolation, intimidation, lying... I don't have an absolute standard for what I personally consider torture, and I'm afraid the country doesn't either. It scares me to think that something so horrifying, with such power to harm and destroy, is contained by such a blurry line.

Commentary for Chase Meech

Chase,

I truly think your essay is very well written and strongly argued. I believe you presented Paglia's viewpoint accurately and fairly, but also effectively argued against it. I think a neutral audience would be inclined toward your argument instead of Paglia's, as it is rooted in both fact (the study cited in paragraph 3) and strengthened by a relevant personal narrative (shared in paragraph 2). With that being said, here are a few things I think could improve your argument:

If you’re looking to expand your argument (make your essay longer), I would recommend explicitly addressing the claim Paglia makes in the title, where she claims Gaga has contributed to “the death of sex.” Your method of putting her claims and speculations up against research to refute them, I think, would be very potent on this issue she brings up.

If you’re looking to condense your argument (make your essay shorter), I would recommend condensing the information in paragraph, particularly the personal narrative sharing the experience of you and your friends, to a few key points.
However, if you are satisfied with the length of your essay (I have no reasonable way to count the words and see if you are at or near the prompt’s limit), my recommendation would be to revise your concluding paragraph so that it more directly mirrors the strong thesis you presented in your introductory paragraph (for example, editing the vague sentence I pointed out to you in-class to be more specific to your argument).

(In addition, of course, proofread for grammatical and formatting errors.)

Aside from that, I can’t think of much to say. The 3 body paragraphs, which make up the core of your argument and (I assume) are what we are supposed to focus on in our commentaries, are extremely well argued and supported by your research. Good job, and best of luck with your final draft!

Sincerely,
Bailey Prince

Woolf Thoughts on Peace

1. When was the first major British female politician elected?
2. Is it difficult, through the fear of a dangerous situation such as an air raid, to maintain compassion for people of enemy nations?
3. How does Woolf define freedom, and, by her definition, are we free in modern-day America?

There are no bombs overhead, and I've never even seen a gas mask in real life, much less needed to keep one within arm's reach. Woolf says, "If we were free we should be out in the open, dancing, at the play, or sitting at the window talking together," and the truth is, I can do all of those things. However, I think her definition of freedom goes deeper than that. So long as there are soldiers trapped in war-machines, and citizens trapped in a war mentality, freedom is not achieved because peace is not achieved.

I believe Woolf equates the two, and rightfully so, in my own opinion. My brother will go off in a few weeks on a large boat, sent off to float around on the oceans and wait for the next war. While he does that, others among his ranks will sent to fight, and maybe die, the current wars. Meanwhile, the rest of us will wait at home. Any attempt to criticize the wars will be rebuked as an attack on American freedom, disrespect for the brave men and women who lay down their lives for the country, or something equally appalling and unpatriotic.

But I, like Woolf, don't believe freedom ever really comes from the barrel of the gun. As long as there are weapons there is fear, and as long as there is fear there is not freedom. I don't have to be afraid to walk out in the open, at least not really, but I have to worry about other things. Wars breeds fear and fear breeds submission: the Patriot Act allows the government to violate citizens' freedom to protect Freedom as a concept. I think that's the problem; we have Freedom here, but we aren't free. And I think we don't want to be, or rather, we can't imagine being free. We're as afraid of our own innate Hitlerism as we are of other people's. Peace can't be attained, not really; wars between countries may stop but wars between people never will. I don't have to watch out for bombs dropping overhead but I have to fear walking at night, fear large public places where a shooter might arise, and fear my own home where war can break out even within a family.

I'm probably reading too far into it, going beyond Woolf's political assessment and into religious territory, but I can't help but feel like she touches on the essence of it; human nature won't allow peace on Earth, and in this life, we'll never truly be free.