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Review of Social Scientists in the Civic Space Shami Ulla Independent Scholar (PhD from University of Delhi) 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.

IPN Blog IPN blo g is a platform for philosophers and others to write about philosophy in India and also to express philosophically informed opinions. Given the aim of the IPN blog is to enable a dialogue between philosophers and the public, both philosophers and the public can submit articles. See the submission guidelines . Review of Social Scientists in the Civic Space Read the article Shami Ulla Mar 24, 2025 Mulla Nasrettin's Cogito Read the article Danish Hamid Jan 13, 2025 Modernity and its Futures Past Read the article Nishad Patnaik Jan 8, 2025 Review of R. Krishnaswamy's Book Read the article Adreeja Sarkar Jun 2, 2024 Review of Bhaskarjit Neog's Book Read the article Abhishek Anant Nowbagh May 16, 2024 What Responsibility? Whose Responsibility? Read the article Bhaskarjit Neog Feb 7, 2024 Review of Venusa Tinyi's book by Aribam Uttam Sharma Read the article Aribam Uttam Sharma Dec 28, 2023 Traditional vs Colonial: Navigating Dichotomies of Philosophy in India Read the article Ankita Kushwaha and Megha Kapoor Dec 14, 2023 Review of Meera Baindur's novel by Manish Sharma Read the article Manish Sharma Nov 24, 2023 Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Richa Shukla Read the article Richa Shukla Nov 13, 2023 Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Satya Javvaji Read the article Satya Javvaji Oct 26, 2023 Philosophy Education and Job Competencies Read the article Nishant Kumar Nov 6, 2022 Translating philosophy: DR Nagaraj's Allamaprabhu Read the article N S Gundur Jul 3, 2022 A Word of Caution to 'the Uniformist' and 'the Reformist' Read the article Ariba Zaidi Feb 22, 2022 The Karnataka Hijab row is about Right to Education, not Freedom of Religion Read the article Sania Ismailee Feb 22, 2022 Back to Liberal Basics Read the article Danish Hamid Feb 22, 2022 Can women decide for themselves? Read the article Hina Mushtaq Feb 22, 2022

Muzaffar Ali In conversation with Varun S Bhatta (Assistant Professor, HSS, IISER Bhopal) July - August 2021 Muzaffar Ali (mamalla[AT]unipune.ac.in | younusmalla[AT]gmail.com) is an Assistant Professor at the Department of Philosophy, Savitribai Phule Pune University, Pune, India. He received M.Phil and PhD from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Prior to joining Savitribai Phule Pune University, he taught philosophy at Hindu College, University of Delhi. He specializes in social and political philosophy and contemporary Indian philosophy with an emphasis on the idea of the public sphere and its normative implications in the Indian context. He is a DAAD (Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst) scholar and has published in prestigious journals such as JICPR, Sophia, Culture and Dialogue, and Journal of World Philosophies. A co-edited volume, The Imbecile's Guide to Public Philosophy (2021) is published by Routledge. Varun : Muzaffar, let us start this interview by knowing a bit about your personal history. Can you please tell us where are you from? What about your earlier education and interests? Muzaffar : I am from Kashmir and studied there till my Bachelors in 2008. While my education (up to HSC) took place around my village, I moved to Srinagar city for Bachelors in 2006. My primary education took place at a school next door of which ours was the first batch. I need to mention that we were lucky to get quality education at our primary stage in education and much of the credit goes to the then collective of teachers at this school. Quite interestingly, it was my failure to secure a seat in the State MBBS entrance examination which marked my shift to Social Sciences for my Bachelors; more specifically to Psychology! The shift was initiated through advice from some close friends who were of the view that I can do better with human psychology than human physiology! Interesting to hear about the rural educational experiment. Probably, if we have time, would like to know more about this initiative and how it is doing at present. Also, fascinated to know about the twist of fate: from physiology to psychology! How was your Bachelors’? Curious to know how and why you transited from psychology to philosophy. The school was a community initiative within our village to provide quality education as an alternative to the State-run schools. However, within a matter of two decades, the shift in primary education was more towards a neo-liberal one, one where paradoxically entrepreneurship and education are supposed to share the plate! Gradually my school had a strange death as it could not withstand the shift. At the college, the social science stream (as it was then called) was offered in clubbed subjects and one had to choose one such club. With an eye on psychology, I happened to choose a club that had philosophy in it. And you won’t believe within the first year itself when I studied Greek Philosophy, I was fascinated to the core. I straight away decided that philosophy is what I am going to pursue. At the college, we hardly had teachers who could teach philosophy and I struggled to finish my undergraduate studies. I got help from a few friends who had either studied philosophy or were interested in it. A gentleman who had retired as a Govt officer but had done post-graduation in philosophy in the 70s helped a lot. The boat somehow sailed through. Once my undergraduation was over, I did not apply to any other subject as I knew philosophy awaits me somewhere. Can you tell us what aspects of philosophy caught your attention during the first encounter? In my first encounter with philosophy at college, I was handed W T Stace’s introductory book on Greek Philosophy. The moment I started going through it, the metaphysical questions raised by the early Greek philosophers captivated me. It was as if these philosophers (Thales, Pythagoras, Anaximenes, Heraclitus etc) were eager at capturing the ‘ultimate reality’ at a conceptual level. The evolution of Greek philosophy with Plato and Aristotle talking about a kind of moral nature of politics was not only interesting but refreshing as well. Unfortunately, the syllabus during those days was based on the Indian-Western binary (and it still carries much of that baggage). The binary-based curriculum did not allow us to move to the specifics of any particular tradition at the college level. Before we move on, do you remember the name of this retired government officer and any information about him? Want to imagine this person...who does post-graduation in philosophy (in the 1970s), joins a government job and at the same time assists students! As far as I remember, he was a retired horticulture officer who had done his MA at Aligarh Muslim University during the early 1970s. After his MA, he had even got an opportunity to move abroad for further studies in philosophy after securing a fellowship. However, he decided to move back to Kashmir and do a government job instead. Actually, since there were few or no teachers of philosophy available, colleges used to hire him after his retirement to teach and assist students. At times, he would not even be paid, but he would still continue to assist students like me at an informal level. I can’t remember his exact name as of now, though we fondly called him Malik Sahab. Wonder why the person did not pursue higher studies. Coming back to you, what happened after your undergraduate degree? Looks like you were clear about pursuing a Master's in philosophy. How did that go? I applied to two universities for my Master’s: Panjab University Chandigarh (PU) and Hyderabad Central University (HCU). However, as fate would have it I had to join Panjab University as the selection letter from HCU wouldn’t reach me on time due to the 2009 agitation in Kashmir following the Asia-Neelofar rape case. Interestingly the Dept at PU was imbibed with a sense of openness and seriousness for philosophy. It had a charged and vibrant atmosphere with weekly seminars, discussion groups and Professors took a keen interest in offering pedagogical clarity during and after lectures. That training gradually played its part in shaping my research interests. Dr Lallan Baghel who currently heads the Dept prodded us to submit abstracts to attend seminars and conferences at the national level. Informal discussions on concepts related to classical Indian philosophy and other subjects were a routine exercise. I fondly call the Dept as being my stepping stone as it became a platform for me to have a glimpse of global philosophy. From Habermas to Daya Krishna, Dharmakirti to Jayanta Bhatta, Husserl to Deleuze, Foucault to Chantal Mouffe, I got acquainted with a diverse range of philosophers and concepts. In essence, the groundwork for my research interests was done and the imperative need was to shape and cultivate it further. With this ground set, how did you proceed further? I secured admission to the integrated M.Phil-Ph.D programme at the Centre for Philosophy, Jawaharlal Nehru University. The Centre was small at that time and I completed my M.Phil in 2013 with my focus on the concept of sovereignty within the “Deterritorial Empire”; a concept put forward by the Political Philosophers Antonio Negri and Michael Hardt. It was during my M.Phil that I figured out that not much work is being done in the realm of political philosophy from the perspective of the Indian context. The trigger was an essay by Bhiku Parekh, “The Poverty of Indian Political Theory.” It occurred to me that the philosophical domain is overwhelmed by a kind of Western captivity which if I borrow from K. C. Bhattacharya can be considered as a part of ‘cultural subjugation.’ I was not thinking of closing myself to the West and becoming a nativist. Rather I seriously started to interrogate into the blind deployment of notions and theories that have origins in the West. The lament was that even Indian political theory is not able to offer anything beyond a certain point. After a lot of reading and discussions with faculty at JNU and outside, I was sure that my PhD research topic has to focus on this often neglected problem. Muzaffar (far left) along with his friends in Mumbai University, attending the Afro-Asian Philosophy conference (2010). I can relate to the tension between the west and Indian that one encounters while practising philosophy in India. I want to delve more into the points you mention and hear in detail. Before that, let us complete the current strand of conversation. Please tell us about your PhD research. Since I had a bit of clarity about the wider context of my research problem, I chose to understand the imagined Indian public sphere in normative terms by evaluating the Habermasian conceptualization(s) of the public sphere. The title is, “Understanding Indian Public Sphere through a Critique of Jurgen Habermas.” In my research, I didn’t evaluate or inquire into the Indian situation from the vantage point of Habermas’s normative idealization of the public sphere. Rather I employed the contemporary Indian situation as my standard measure of evaluation and inquiry into Habermas. The methodological insight for this inquiry is based on Samvada as propounded by two contemporary Indian philosophers, Daya Krishna and M. P. Rege. Among other issues, a major issue that I argue about is that the concept of rationality -- be it the enlightenment one or the communicative rationality, which shoulder the shifts and evolution of the Habermasian public sphere -- is inherently insufficient to be deployed for the understanding of Indian public sphere. As an alternative, I propose the concept of contextual rationality, as propounded by B. K. Matilal and others can be ‘finetuned’ and used for understanding and envisioning the normative conceptualization of the Indian public sphere. The fine-tuning involves the possibility of replacing the ‘illustrational’ component in the classical model of contextual rationality with the notion of ‘lived experience’ as a viable vector of meaning for a shared discourse within the public sphere. I may add that the project is still a work in progress even after I have completed my PhD and I look forward to putting it in the public domain soon. I can see how you in the PhD research successfully attempted to come up with a novel Indian political theory by making the existing concepts/theories have a conversation with the Western ones. As a person who has not delved into political philosophy, I want some clarification about your research domain and the project. (i) In what ways do you think the Indian public sphere differs from the Harbemasian one? (ii) And, even though you have clarified that you are not a nativist, but do you think concepts developed in the Indian context (like Matilal’s contextual rationality) have better conceptual compatibility to explain Indian phenomena (like the Indian public sphere)? To put it briefly, I can say that a public sphere’s publicness is to be theoretically gauged by the in-principle access it offers to individuals who intend to participate in it. The overemphasis on the concept of rationality by Habermas, (as I M Young, Nancy Fraser, and others charge) becomes an obstacle for that in-principle accessibility itself. The reason being that Habermas creates a procedural format to conduct the critical-rational debates within the public sphere. A simple way of putting this point is this. Think of a situation where matters of caste discrimination are to be discussed by everyone apart from the one’s who suffer it, primarily because they are not able to speak in the language and format as demanded by the Habermasian public sphere. The Indian public sphere, if we can imagine and theorize one, cannot simply rely on or overemphasize procedural rationality alone. While on one hand, the Indian public sphere needs to resolve the problem of accessibility and operationalize it through an alternative format and procedure for debate within it. On the other hand, such operationalization should not dilute its normative potential which may otherwise end up making it redundant. Coming to your second question, the notion of contextual rationality looks promising on these fronts if reworked and employed in an appropriate way. Matilal himself draws on the Nyaya conception of debate and makes sure that contextual rationality as an operative within debates satisfies the needs and demands of participants. While doing that, the in-principle accessibility option for the general public who can become participants is kept intact by making illustrations and examples a necessary ingredient of contextual rationality. So while the arguments cater to the debaters’ demands, the parallel woven examples and illustrations cater to the general public who are potential (not actual) participants in the debate. I play with this illustrational component to make it more tenable for an imagined Indian public sphere so that contestations present within our society can be properly responded to, at least at a theoretical level. I do not strictly adhere to the compatibility issue in my research. But at the same time, I am of the opinion that concepts developed within a certain context do share a kind of fetal relation with the context itself. And it is necessary that we as doers of philosophy underline the existence of such relation. I like the way you put it - “fetal relation”. Are there any works (published, forthcoming, work-in-progress) on the above topic that one can read? Please do also introduce us to your other research works. Yes, there are a few. Up to now, I have been more concerned about the Contemporary Indian philosophical strand of my research. In 2017, as part of a collaboration, “Rethinking Classical Dialectical Traditions: Daya Krishna on Counterposition and Dialogue ” was published in the journal Culture and Dialogue. I took it a bit further in 2018 with “ Indian Philosophy and Ethics: Dialogical Method as a Fresh Possibility” published in Sophia. The first treatment of the Social and political arena within my research is part of an upcoming co-edited volume, The Imbecile’s Guide to Public Philosophy published by Routledge. The volume is going to be out by September 2021. Apart from this, I have written a few articles on Contemporary Indian philosophers such as Margaret Chatterjee and Feminist Philosophy. Apart from the publications, I have been occupied with the malestream nature of philosophy as a discipline. I did a project under the UGC’s University with Potential for Excellence grant at my university so that the relationship between patriarchy and philosophy can be studied. The findings of the study are available as an occasional paper published by the University. Taking the focus on this question forward, I and a few colleagues from Universities in India founded the Collective for Women Philosophers in India last year. The CWPI is a voluntary effort to study the gender gap within Indian philosophical academia from multiple methodological perspectives. To begin with, we have started interviewing Women philosophers based in India to understand their perspectives on the nature and extent of the gender gap in Philosophy. We look forward to taking it further with collaborations and projects on national as well as international levels. Given that you have been through the various stages of academic philosophy, and have dabbled not only with regular academic activities (like teaching and research) but also proactively attempting to address some of the problems of the discipline, what has been your experience of doing philosophy in India? Let us (for the moment) separate doing philosophy in India into two categories; studying philosophy and practising philosophy. As far as studying philosophy is concerned, we get exposed to a lot of non-Indian philosophies, thanks to the evolution of Indian academics post-colonial influence. Unfortunately, this exposure is not symmetry-based and deep down the Indian-Western binary is inherent to it. In other words, it seems that colonial authority has paved the way to a kind of epistemic authority within philosophical discourses. If this exposure was founded on a principle of epistemic symmetry then the condition of philosophy as a discipline may have been altogether different. The asymmetry is bound to shape the practice of philosophy as well. It leaves the practitioners of philosophy with a conundrum of being faithful to both traditions simultaneously. Most of us, I think, remain entangled with solving this conundrum throughout our careers, and my experience is of similar nature. I find it difficult to strike a balance between the two traditions given the fact that the Indian-Western binary has been foundational to my career as well. J. L. Mehta, Daya Krishna, J. N. Mohanty, Ramchandra Gandhi, Margaret Chatterjee are examples of India based philosophers who have suffered this conundrum and attempted to find a way (whether successfully or unsuccessfully is a different question altogether) out of it. Honestly speaking, I am inquisitively searching this forest to look for a way out of it. Another characteristic problem within our philosophical circles is the lack of dialogue within. Much of the communication is limited to friendly circles and senior fellows. Young scholars and researchers hardly get opportunities to interact with each other. With regard to the last point you mentioned, what are the critical difficulties and concerns you think that the community of young philosophy scholars in India encounters? And what initiatives and steps we can proactively take to tackle these? One of the major predicaments that we face is to prove that philosophy is (still) relevant. I think a young philosophy professional is used to facing questions and doubts regarding the relevance and use of philosophy every now and then. The doubts do not emerge from a vacuum. Rather the general atmosphere, academic as well as non-academic, is bulldozed by a technocratic and positivist invasion which leaves very little scope for a sustained train of thought. Further, the instrumental nature of education plays a role in sidelining criticality and inquisitiveness. It falls on us to either submit to the onslaught or to keep up the ante. Our predecessors have not witnessed a difficulty of such magnitude, I believe. There are a few administrative and academic hardships as well. Administratively, there is hardly any scope for a young professional to receive focused impetus from the national councils such as the ICPR or ICSSR to sponsor research stays in acclaimed institutions. ICPR has senior fellowships among others, but I hardly find it offering a special young faculty program. Academically, it becomes difficult for any young scholar in India to share and have a conversation on his/her work. The reason is the attitude that “senior is better” which I think needs to be revisited. It is quite easy for anyone to get a senior professor’s inputs on research and teaching, but very hard (almost impossible) to get a shared or even contested view from peers. We have to figure out alternatives, such as having platforms and collectives like IPN, CWPI, etc., to communicate with each other and share works of interest. While the academic part of this difficulty has to be resolved by us and the senior colleagues in philosophy academia, the administrative one has to be sorted elsewhere. One of the challenges that I constantly encounter as an academic philosopher is the guilt of doing philosophy only in English and not doing enough of it in my mother tongue (Kannada). Even though this question resonates with the India-vs-West problem that we discussed above, they are different. Working in one’s provincial language is a way the philosopher connects to his/her immediate locale. Thought of asking your thoughts on this as I want to know what does asking this question in the context of Kashmir entail? The question is both important and interesting. The vernacular medium definitely offers a lived way of doing philosophy (or for that matter any discipline which is articulation and argumentation centric). I would have preferred to get schooled in the Kashmiri language. But alas, English as a “language of power” has so permeated our being that during my schooling Kashmiri was not even a subject in the curriculum. Even now, after being introduced, it is taken quite casually. The result of sheer neglect towards the vernacular languages has been quite drastic. We are more like hybrids. Now that I am based in Pune, a cursory comparison makes me feel that English is more commonly deployed in the northern states. States like Maharashtra, Bengal have (to a good extent) managed to preserve their vernacular languages. On a different note, while English distances me from my immediate locale, it simultaneously brings the outer world closer to me. It (as if through its sheer power) throws the world open to me, and that needs to be underlined. Somehow, we forgot to strike a balance between the openness that English offers and the belongingness that the vernacular bestows. Thanks for pointing out how vernacular and cosmopolitan languages can complement each other. Having discussed the various hurdles and characteristics of Indian academics, I want to know how all of these have come to shape your pedagogy. How do you think philosophy should be taught in India? My pedagogy has indeed been shaped by this tumultuous-yet-interesting experience. I have made it a point to rid the courses (that I teach) from the sweeping Indian-Western binaries. The courses now have a mix of Indian and non-Indian philosophers without any underlined segregation. I hope that helps free the caged bird. Second, since philosophy is a vast discipline and in India, it has been more involved with the history of philosophy, I make sure that contemporary scholars across the wider social sciences get their place (at least) in my teaching. Coming to your second question, I am of the view that we need to teach ‘philosophy as philosophy’ without reducing it to spiritual enterprise, religious conservatism or other comprehensive doctrines. The argumentative value inherent to philosophy, its inquisitiveness to interrogate, its inclination to offer and sustain critique need to be the vectors of teaching and doing philosophy.

What Responsibility? Whose Responsibility? Bhaskarjit Neog Associate Professor, Centre for Philosophy, JNU 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.

Srajana Kaikini In conversation with Sahana Rajan (Lecturer, Jindal Global Business School) February 2022 Dr Srajana Kaikini's work spans across curatorial, artistic and philosophical domains. She received her PhD in Philosophy from Manipal Centre for Humanities, and has a Masters in Arts and Aesthetic from JNU. She was at de Appel Art Centre’s Curatorial Programme in 2012-13, is the recipient of 2013 FICA Research Fellowship and was Curator at KK Hebbar Gallery and Arts Centre (2015-2019) at Manipal. Some of her recent curatorial projects include Searching for the Present, Where? Being-Becoming in Akbar Padamsee’s Figurations (1995 – 2006) at the Guild, Mumbai (2021), Backstage of Biology (2019), at Archives at the National Centre for Biological Sciences, Bangalore, Mukhaputa (2017) at the KK Hebbar Gallery and Arts Centre and Vectors of Kinship (2016) at the 11th Shanghai Biennale. She has been resident artist-curator at the Delfina Foundation, London and the International Studio and Curatorial Program, New York and is a regular contributor to writing platforms on philosophy, arts and aesthetics. Her academic writing has been published in journals such as Ethical Perspectives, Voices in Bioethics, Deleuze and Guattari Studies, Kunstlicht, Journal for Cancer Research and Therapeutics amidst others. She is on the Editorial Boards of SciPhiWeb Repository of Reflections on Science, Philosophy and Gaming and Barefoot Philosophers and member of the Bioethics Forum - Collaborative for Palliative Care at Columbia University. She is currently working on her forthcoming book Philosophy of Curation (Routledge) and teaches as Assistant Professor of Philosophy at the School of Interwoven Arts and Sciences at Krea University, India. Sahana: Lets start this conversation by knowing your research interests Srajana : I am interested in philosophy as a creative practice. As an artist-philosopher, it is extremely exciting to dive into the work of philosophy through practice, be it in my curatorial work, in my studio practice or by way of writing and teaching. This also means having a keen commitment to being inconspicuously soaked in philosophy while engaging with the world. Implicit and the ineffable registers of experience haunt my philosophical enquiry. I am curious about the ways in which relationalities emerge. The disciplinary probes then develop in service of this keenness. Aesthetics and Metaphysics are my core areas if one looks for #keywords . Philosophy for me is my practice. For more details on my work, one may find sufficient information on internet repositories. Please provide a brief biography of yourself I grew up in Bombay, a city that shapes my childhood and later in Bangalore. For the past decade, I have been mostly nomadic - from New Delhi to Amsterdam to London to Manipal to Bangalore and now to Pulicat - each place has given me so much. Two places that hold a special place for me are Suriname and Japan. A moment I recall in recent past, is when I touched a viking rune etched on a parapet of Hagia Sophia. For this context, I’d like to stick to this sparsed out geo-biography. What has been your experience of studying and being part of academic philosophy in India? I came to philosophy out of a personal necessity - to engage with certain concepts that haunted me - these were questions about my practice that I wanted to think through and wanted to learn from my teacher. The term academia does not hold much of an importance to me in qualifying my philosophical belonging. I was first introduced to philosophy during my Masters in JNU through my teachers who were scholars as well as artists. Art has always been part of the lived atmosphere at home. The experience of studying philosophy is mostly one of auto-didactism - even when one is taught by a teacher, the teacher’s success is in teaching the student how to teach herself. I was grateful for all my teachers who have made philosophy meaningful and lovable for me. I am grateful to continue learning from my teachers and peers, the barefoot philosophers. I consider this an ongoing process. I prefer not to dwell too much on what I am part of and what I am not. Could you share your reflections on philosophy as a discipline in India? How do you foresee the development of the discipline? The discipline of philosophy in India needs more affirmative attention - keeping in mind the place of philosophy for its people. There is a necessity for a way of engaging with concepts, contexts and their ideas, and to have meaningful dialogues, discussions and debates addressing questions that matter to you, me, the various kinds of ‘us’ that we inhabit or long for. As with any other discipline, when philosophers concern themselves with the work that can be done by philosophy, the discipline becomes self-sustainable. What kind of career path in philosophy are you interested in, or you think are available in philosophy in India? As an artist-philosopher I consider myself as a creative practitioner of philosophy. I curate, I sing, I make art, I write, I teach, I walk by way of doing philosophy. Philosophers are potentially everywhere around us. They are the policy-makers, the advisors, the mediators, the listeners, the poets, the storytellers, the caregivers, the gardeners, the carpenters, the bus drivers. I resist becoming a salesperson for the discipline, precisely because it does not need selling.

Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Richa Shukla Richa Shukla Assistant Professor, IIT Bhubhaneswar 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.

Review of Muzaffar Ali's book by Satya Javvaji Satya Javvaji MA student, KU Luven Oct 26, 2023 Book review of Muzaffar Ali's India, Habermas and the Normative Structure of Public Sphere (Routledge, 2023) In India, Habermas and the Normative Structure of Public Sphere , Muzaffar Ali sketches the theory and procedures of an adequate public sphere in India arguing that it has to focus on accessibility and acceptability of the individual participants. In a book that is comprehensive and accessible to a wide audience, Ali gracefully tackles the question of how to think through a native context while being aware of the overbearing Western hegemony on the one hand, and of the risk of delving into nativism or nationalism on the other. The context of the book’s conception starts with Ali’s personal discomfort with the rigid Western-Indian divide in his curriculum growing up. While authors from both geographies were being taught separately, there was a dearth of how to conduct native Indian political philosophy that neither preaches a pre-modern excavation of Indian values nor blindly adopts Western concepts and categories and applies them directly to the Indian context, which oftentimes much different. The book’s first chapter deals with precisely this question - “to figure out a way to deal with the West without a complete withdrawal and yet keep the elan vital of the decolonization project intact” (p. 13). Ali responds to it by arguing for a double native approach. Firstly, since a Western theory purports a universalism in its concepts, it remains essential for a non-western theory to engage with it and critically examine its shortcomings and exclusions. Secondly, these critical engagements have to form the basis of a native and decolonised Indian political theory that adequately captures the context of the society it is speaking with. An adequate theory does not stop at pointing out a historical or contextual exception to a Western theory, thereby proving it inapplicable. Rather, it captures the relevant conditions of possibility, that are socio-historically situated, to initiate a holistic theoretical basis that can, as is successfully carried out in this book, support an Indian public sphere. With this methodology in hand, in the second chapter, Ali discusses the notion of the public sphere in Habermas, whose contribution to its theory is considered field-defining in Western literature. The public sphere is the conceptual stage upon which members of a society exchange views of social and political significance that pertain to their collective life. In the Habermasian public sphere, citizens form a rational public opinion through the medium of linguistic communication which is seen as a reservoir of meaning. While everyone is theoretically invited to the public sphere, Ali points out that the notion relies on a singular universalizing idea and emphasizes the role of rationality disproportionately, thereby striving to keep the project of modernity alive. In doing this, it ignores that firstly, there might be multiple public spheres with diametrically opposed common concerns, and secondly, that since dialogue always already takes place within certain power structures, the marginal and historically excluded voices are either not heard or, to borrow Gayatri Spivak’s famous declaration, that the subaltern simply cannot speak. With these problems in mind and the direct non-applicability of this notion of the public sphere to India (that, according to Ali, is in part due to its heavy religious context), he discusses in the third chapter, that current Indian engagements with Habermas are either comparative or evaluative. Both these engagements pose challenges to the theory and provide critical ways of engaging with it, but either lose sight of the overall conceptual structure by focusing on particular historical examples/contexts or fail to offer a way forward in terms of moving out of the Western hegemonic shadow. Instead, what Ali aims for is a thick concept of the Indian situation that can, as a full concept, interact with the Habermasian theory of the public sphere. In the fourth and fifth chapters, Ali begins with the major chunk of his creative contributions to the idea of an Indian public sphere. He starts with the observation that existing critiques are mainly concerned about the lack of accessibility and acceptability of all to the public sphere. This leads him to frame these as the twin normative principles based on which he theorizes an imagined Indian public sphere. This is so that the public sphere is “gauged by the ease of access it offers to the communities and individuals of whom it claims to be on” and it accepts “the perspectives and viewpoints of all individuals sans any ifs and buts” (p. P. 117-18). He cautions again that he is not interested in a “nativist approach to portray the Indianness” but is instead aiming for a “native approach to conceptualize Indianness” (p. 84). For theoretical and socio-historical reasons, Ali chooses to focus on religion as the social entity that informs the Indian context, the historical idea of rationality in Indian literature and the burden of colonialism with respect to how it colours the reading of texts and consequently of understanding society. With respect to religion, Ali discusses the complicated nature of secularism in India, the socialized role of caste and the deeply political nature of these issues. Through the perspective of religion, it becomes clear that in the European context, the immigration of other religions forms a new conceptual problem while dealing with a universal and apparently secular public sphere. But when it comes to the Indian context, religion has always been part of the notion of secularism and is a “perennial entity within Indian societies” (p. 97). According to Ali, “majority-minority, upper caste-lower caste, powerful-powerless, man-woman binaries within the Indian situation are often anchored in religion” (p. 111). Additionally, he argues that the procedural communicative rationality advocated by Habermas does not apply to the Indian context if acceptability and accessibility are to be taken seriously in the public sphere, and that a combination of abstract rationality and contextual rationality has to be present. This takes seriously the notion that contextual examples cannot always be universalized and translated into abstract concepts and language. At the same time, it does not mean that context-based examples are simply supporting or adding legitimacy to a universalised social procedural reason. Ali proposes the term deuniversal rationality to understand the dual nature of rationality in the Indian context. He reformulates the two aspects of deuniversal rationality as abstract rationality and experiential rationality. With the help of Merleau Ponty’s theory of the embodied self, in combination with Gopal Guru and Sundar Sarukkai’s theory of how the social sphere translates into embodied experiences, Ali argues that not only critical reflection and consequent articulation but also other aspects of the individual’s public identity namely their embodied experience, cultural conditioning and their emotional aspects of existence must have unrestricted access to the public sphere since these are not subordinated to reason but are fundamental aspects of the individual’s self-identity and hence self-expression in the social sphere. Ali writes that the aim is “to grant an epistemic passage to the lived body to enter as a medium of communication within the public sphere. The lived experience emerges as … a parallel and meaningful category for conducting the debates within the public sphere” (p. 128). Ali argues for the co-originality, to borrow Habermas’ term, of both the abstract component and the lived experience component in making up deuniversal rationality. He hopes this not only allows more people, previously excluded, into the contextual Indian public sphere but also, in recognising that the public sphere is carried as part of the individual’s lived experience, and that these very experiences are accepted as contributions to interactions in the Indian public sphere. While Ali is successful at conceptualizing a thick notion of the Indian public sphere based on deuniversal rationality that equi-prioritizes abstract rationality and lived experience, questions follow about how issues are resolved at the theoretical level when these two components contradict or disagree with each other. This sits in the wider debate about the post-structural turn in philosophy emphasizing that discourse always already happens within certain power relations that not only oppress but also produce individuals. Since Ali’s focus was on expanding who is included in the public sphere, what could possibly be clarified further is how disagreements are to be resolved once everyone is in the public sphere. This is keeping in mind the hyper-mediatized society we live in and the possibility of a fragmented and polarized public sphere that is sometimes clearly visible during discussions pertaining to national identity. Additionally, some readers could argue that according to lived experience unqualified epistemic privilege of expressing the truth complicates matters of intra-group justice and brings up the issue of intersectionality. This is because individuals, while referring to their lived experience hardly ever refer to only themselves as isolated individuals but to the group they see themselves as belonging to and speaking as part of. However, since they are simultaneously part of multiple groups and identities, it becomes important to keep in mind that all these identities affect the articulation of their lived experience and cannot be neatly separated into compartments. These are additional remarks since the intellectual involvement and theoretical rigour with which Ali takes on the ambitious project of theorizing a native Indian public sphere is commendable making the book essential reading for political philosophers, political and social scientists, theorists from the global South and everyone who wishes to understand the complexities involved in thinking about the native. Image-credit: © Yann Forget / Wikimedia Commons

Mulla Nasrettin's Cogito Danish Hamid Independent Scholar 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?

Reading groups in IPN Reading Groups IPN enables focused philosophy reading and research groups. The details of currently active groups are given below. Please get in touch with the respective moderators to join a specific group. Metaethics Reading Group Themes : moral epistemology, moral motivation, moral reasoning, moral judgement, moral normativity, moral realism/irrealism and history of metaethics Moderators : Sushruth Ravish (PhD Student, IIT-Bombay) and Vivek Kumar Radhakrishnan (PhD Student, Manipal Academy of Higher Education) Contacts: sushruth.ravish[AT]gmail.com or vivek.logos[AT]gmail.com Realism/Anti-realism and Philosophy of Mind Reading Group Themes : epistemological and metaphysical realism/anti-realism; scientific realism/anti-realism; Kantian transcendental idealism; epistemic humility; mind-body problem; mental causation; self-awareness. Moderators: Siddharth S (Sai University, Chennai) and Nishant Kumar (PhD Scholar, IIT Madras) Contacts: siddharth.nias[AT]g mail.com or nishant.iitmadras[AT]g mail.com

Indian Philosophy Network (IPN) is a platform for academic philosophers in India. Indian Philosophy Network (IPN) is a network for professional philosophers in India, both within and outside academia. Currently, IPN comprises more than five hundred members from various avenues -- M.Phil/Ph.D students and faculty from various institutes, college teachers, and philosophy professionals working in non-academic spaces. Join IPN The current moderators of IPN are Siddharth S (Assistant Professor, Sai University) and Varun S Bhatta (Assistant Professor, IISER Bhopal) Home: Welcome IPN aims to build an equitable eco-system for philosophers in India to provide crucial peer support for research, teaching and other professional activities. The network enables better awareness of scholars working in specific areas, thereby facilitating interactions and collaborations. With members from institutes across India, IPN serves as a common platform to share information and resources pertaining to philosophy. Home: About

Jinesh Sheth In conversation with Varun S Bhatta (Assistant Professor, HSS, IISER Bhopal) January 2022 Jinesh Sheth (jineshsheth[AT]philosophy.mu.ac.in), after completing his graduation in Sanskrit and Jainism, pursued an MA degree in Philosophy. He is currently pursuing PhD as a UGC-JRF fellow at the University of Mumbai. His thesis focuses on a critical study of the Jaina theory of anekāntavāda. It engages with some of the foundations of metaphysics, epistemology and ethics. Varun : Hello Jinesh! Thanks for taking time and being part of this conversation. From the IPN members’ sheet, I gather that you are currently doing PhD at University of Mumbai. Can you tell us more about it? Jinesh : Hello Varun! Glad to be having this conversation with you. Yeah, I started my PhD in 2018 and I am working on anekāntavāda (non-one-sidedness) under the supervision of Prof. Meenal Katarnikar. Given the centrality of this theory to Jaina philosophy, a lot has been worked upon and yet, as I can now see, a lot remains to be uncovered. The central argument of my thesis is to make a case for different senses of the doctrine - methodological, metaphysical, epistemological - to name a few - and then deal with some of the issues that I think requires further investigation. It has been a nice journey so far reading Prakrit and Sanskrit Jaina texts, engaging with the contemporary scholarship, and along with it, trying to situate anekāntavāda in a larger philosophical discourse. Jaina’s theory of anekāntavāda has always fascinated me. However, till now, I had not had an opportunity to go beyond a superficial understanding of it. So, I am planning to make the best use of this conversation to know a bit more about it! First of all, what caught my attention is your translation of anekāntavāda as “non-onesidedness”. Why is this preferable compared to “many-sidedness”? The other question pertains to any notion of pluralism (in epistemology, metaphysics, etc.): how to make the stance more appealing without also accepting the trivial (and troubling?) dictum that “everything and anything is OK”? I am sure there would be at least one Nyaya philosopher who would have thrown this allegation at Jaina system. Would like to know your thoughts on these. I would be happy to discuss more on anekāntavāda . With respect to translation, the term non-one-sidedness is closer to the original Sanskrit as compared to any other translation. The emphasis in “non-onesidedness” is on the denial of a one-sided nature of reality, as captured by “ an ” (=denial), “ ekānta ” (=one-sided), and vāda (theory); therefore non-onesidedness. It is also possible to look at the term as “ aneka ” (not one, many) and “ anta ” (sided) but this interpretation appears to restrict the term to just ontology and is not a literal translation (the word 'anta' stands for 'dharma', which, in this context, means properties / characteristics). Some scholars translate it as ‘the doctrine of multiplexity of reality’. Non-onesidedness, on the other hand, can be taken as a theory which represents the Jaina view not only on reality, but also on thought (nayavāda, epistemic perspectives) and language (syādvāda, the theory of qualified assertion). As regards to pluralism and a kind of relativist approach towards everything, I find that these two can be differentiated to a certain extent. The interpretation of anekāntavāda along the lines of relativism is a very recent development. To say that ‘everyone can have a perspective’ is one thing, to say that ‘everyone is right from their own perspective’ is another thing and to call the latter as anekāntavāda lacks textual validation. (In the Jaina context, there is something like pseudo-nayas (false standpoints / false perspectives). Their falsity might consist in either the denial of their counterparts altogether or in seeing one part as the whole (like in the case of blind men and the elephant) or when they do not correspond to reality)). So far, I haven’t found any Jain text that would support such a view (=everyone is right from their own perspective). It is kind of self-refuting. To give an illustration from an altogether different context, Paul Feyerabend, who was greatly influenced by Thomas Kuhn as you too would probably be aware, while arguing for epistemological anarchism and for his own relativist understanding of science, builds upon Kuhn’s arguments but Kuhn never advocated such a relativist view and he even went on to categorically reject those relativist ideas while replying to his critics. So most of the criticisms of anekāntavāda - whether by Vedāntins (like Śaṅkara) or the Nyāya-Vaiśeṣikas (like Bhāsarvajña) or the Buddhists (like Dharmakīrti) - are more often than not directed either towards denying the possibility of two contradictory characteristics existing together in one thing or towards the problem of self-reference (is anekāntavāda absolutely true?) or some other issues. If you don't mind, may I also take the opportunity to know more about you, your philosophical interests and any current areas on which you might be working? Also, even though it has been a long time, I am curious about how did the transition happen from engineering to philosophy. Thanks for the clarifications on anekāntavāda! Have a better understanding of them now. Coming to your question, there are a few factors for the late transition -- from engineering to philosophy -- in my case. Of course, due to the parochial state education system, while growing up I was largely ignorant of the discipline. It is only during the first year of bachelors, I realised my interest for a few topics. It took some meandering and trial/error to realise that what I am interested in is called "philosophy" and another couple of years to find the conviction to change the lanes. So, the transition from engineering to philosophy happened gradually at various stages (from the interest to read a few books when I am free to pursue it "professionally"). What is your story? How did you end up pursuing research in philosophy? I see. That’s quite an interesting journey. I was primarily interested in Jaina philosophy and literature from a very young age and, for which, I went to Jaipur for five years to study at an institute (kind of a gurukul). Along with it, I completed my graduation with Sanskrit as the major subject from a college (SDJA Sanskrit college) affiliated to JRRSU , Jaipur. It was during that time that my teacher suggested me to see if philosophy might interest me. Since then, it has been a great adventure and I am amazed how it has played a role in shaping my understanding of almost everything. Jinesh, fascinating story! I want to know more about all of these “phases”. To begin with, I am jealous to know that you were interested in philosophy and literature from a young age! How did this happen? And what was your impression/understanding of philosophy in this phase (if you can recollect :) )? I am glad to know that you find it fascinating! I was fortunate to get that environment and culture where I was introduced to Jain principles from early childhood. There are paathshalas for various age groups run by the Jain community where children can get acquainted with basic ideas. My parents always motivated me to spend time going to paathshalas and some summer camps as well. My interests kept on advancing and I started listening to discourses by (non-academic) scholars which would, more often than not, involve texts. By the time I finished high school (10th grade), I can say that I might have covered basic Jaina philosophical concepts pertaining to metaphysics, epistemology and ethics that a one year diploma course in Jainology might offer. I was introduced to arguments that would deny the concept of creation of the universe by a supreme entity. I assumed I had gained some understanding of the doctrine of karma, suffering, the causes thereof, liberation, spirituality; and dualism (soul-body), consciousness, metaphysical pluralism, universals and particulars, substance, qualities, modifications etc. Of course, I had no idea about other philosophical traditions whether Indian or Western. I was also not aware of what exactly would constitute philosophy. Neither had I read any of the Jaina texts entirely. Just that now when I look back, I can locate what I had studied within a larger philosophical discourse. So it was during that time that I was given this opportunity, by my teacher as well by my parents, if I would want to study Jainism further and I eventually decided to go to Jaipur. Before we catch the thread of your story at Jaipur, I want to know more about the community paathshalas. I have heard about them, but know very little. The list of topics you mentioned does give an idea of the topics being discussed. Can you shed some light on other aspects of these communal educational practices? How were these nuanced topics taught by the instructors? And since most of the audience are young, how were these philosophical ideas made relevant to them? Given that you have studied in both traditional and university educational spaces, thought you might be in a good position to shed some light on the differences in pedagogic styles and methods. Yeah, sure. I am glad to revisit all those days because I don't recollect talking about them with great detail. If I remember correctly, I might have started going to paathshala when I was just 7 or 8. And as I reflect now, I am able to see many things which otherwise even I could not notice. And maybe I might fail to mention some other things which I don't remember now. Anyway, thanks for all the questions! Usually, most of the paathshalas are conducted in a temple. There are scholars who have written books specifically for the students at paathshalas. Along with the core topics related to Jaina philosophy, these books include poems, stories etc. as well. The books that I studied from had a conversational style (like Plato's Dialogues - the similarity being just of the style and not the content) which began with a question. Over a period of time, these have now become standard textbooks that are used almost all over India and perhaps abroad as well. Of course, this works within a community and other versions of something similar are not uncommon. The teachers are most of the time alumnis of the same paathshala or some other paathshala (if they have relocated). There were many co-curricular activities like plays, quizzes, art and craft etc. - all focused on making a particular topic easy to understand. And, of course, there were prizes. Nowadays, I also see quite a few inter-paathshala competitions taking place. Regarding how these topics were taught, I think the curiosity of the students, with respect to both knowing-how and knowing-that, was a major driving force. I too take a class once a week at the local paathshala and I am sometimes amazed at the kind of questions they ask - whether it's on ahimsa, or God, or karma or on the functioning of the universe. Sometimes, they come up with their own versions of the trolley car problem (what's the right thing to do?). Apart from that, the focus is also on memorizing the key concepts and much of the evaluation was based on that. Paathshalas used to prepare one for reading the texts (of course, the translations and not the original Prakrit or Sanskrit) and listening to discourses for further understanding. I hope I was able to answer the question. Adding here the cover page and the TOC of a few of them: The links to PDFs: Balbodh Pathmala, Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 and then it continues to intermediate ( 1 , 2 , 3 ) and advance levels ( 1 , 2 ). As mentioned earlier, I am sure there are many other books written by other authors and which are also used at various places. This is just one representation and from which I had studied. After reading your description, I would definitely want to visit one of these paathshala. No wonder you were convinced to pick up philosophy by class X. Can you tell us about the Jaipur institute that you went to subsequently? What did you learn there? And, do not mind me asking again, how was the pedagogy in this institute? Yeah! I started reading philosophical works, and from a philosophical perspective (!), only after I got enrolled into the Masters program at the University of Mumbai. But I was surely interested in reading and learning more about Jain philosophy at that time. And whatever I learnt about Indian philosophy in my undergrad years was via Jaina philosophical texts. I must say that I could not have taken that decision on my own. It was because my teacher suggested so and then my parents always encouraged me to pursue it. So this institute at Jaipur ( ptst.in ) is named in the memory of an 18th century Jain scholar, Paṇḍit Ṭoḍarmal. It has been running since almost five decades and students come over there to study Jainism for five years, and simultaneously, they continue their studies in Sanskrit from another academic institute - thereby graduating with a degree of Śāstrī (शास्त्री) which is equivalent to B.A. The graduate course in Sanskrit also offered several papers on Jaina philosophical texts as electives and we opted for them as well. Here are the links for the syllabus - first year (for electives on philosophy, see p. 23ff), second year (p. 18ff) and third year (p. 16ff) - for the B.A. program at JRRSU, Jaipur. And the syllabus for the course on Jainism can be found here . Starting from basic concepts to advanced texts on Jaina metaphysics, logic, epistemology, ethics, narratives, and spirituality, I had a really good time learning from all the teachers. There used to be weekly seminars throughout the year; the experts would give their critical comments and I think we learnt more from each other than on our own. We also received training on how to teach and deliver discourses. That shaped our learning as well. One starts thinking not just as a learner, but also as a teacher. Of course, there is a downside that the focus might shift, but with some caution, it added to the overall development. Another key element was memorizing the texts in their original language - Tattvārtha Sūtra being the most commonly memorized one. Now that I have spent another 6-7 years studying philosophy and Jainism in an academic atmosphere, I can say that the time spent in studying Jainism and Sanskrit was a kind of perfect beginning for me and philosophy has played a major role since then. There are several interesting aspects in what you described: importance of language training, weekly seminars, focus on teaching! Before we move further, I have one last question about traditional learning spaces that you have experience of (paathshalas and Jaipur institute). Your responses give a vivid picture of what happens in classrooms about reading/writing/teaching philosophy. Apart from discussions about “texts”, were there any other practices/activities/rituals that were taught or emphasised, either in the class or outside of the class? I am asking this for two reasons. First, I have heard that Buddhisht monastery pedagogy also emphasises on certain rituals and bodily practices (like meditation, dietary customs, etc.). Want to know whether you have experienced something similar in these places. The second reason pertains to the subsequent junction in your journey --- modern academic spaces, where “practice of philosophy” is largely understood as a mental activity and practice (writing papers, etc.), with no rituals, bodily practices being prescribed. I see. Among dietary customs, eating before sunset was an invariable practice. Students would gather in the temple (within the institute) and sing devotional hymns in the morning as well as evening. Outdoor sports like cricket, volleyball, badminton etc. were played almost throughout the year. One thing which worked in our favour during those days was not having access to the internet except while in the library. Smartphones were not allowed. All of this helped in gaining more focus and utilising time more efficiently. Of course, it seems impossible in the post-Covid world. Other activities like meditation etc. were not that much emphasized. Needless to say, all that I have mentioned so far is about one institute in which I studied and it is very much possible that other institutes might have different practices. I am sure the community living would have been quite an experience. How was your transition from this kind of place to a university system for your MA? Where did you do it and how was it? Did you find any noticeable difference in how philosophy, specifically Indian philosophy, is being taught in the university? True. It was a great experience. Having stayed away from home for five years, I wanted to come back to Mumbai. My teacher (the one who suggested me to go to Jaipur), who also happens to have a Masters degree in Philosophy, again helped me in deciding the career ahead. By the time I graduated, I had developed a further interest to pursue a career in academics. That is when I found the Master’s program at the University of Mumbai quite interesting. Besides, there is one faculty who specializes in Jain philosophy as well (my current PhD guide!). So I was thinking about spending another 7-8 years (MA + PhD) at the Department . I had not studied any of the Western philosophers until graduation. And hence I struggled a bit in my first semester, especially with contemporary analytic and continental philosophy. However, I received a lot of help from my friends as well as from a few senior members (who were pursuing PhD at that time) whenever I approached them. There is a wonderful departmental library as well. The faculty have always been kind and supportive. Also, events like seminars, guest lectures, conferences, workshops helped me in generating further interest into a diverse range of topics. I still vividly remember faculty members encouraging us (students) to ask questions and engage with resource persons! With respect to Indian philosophy, I think one of the major differences, in the modern space, is that the primary texts are not read that widely - unless the entire paper is on one text (=electives). While I read very little of (academic) secondary literature when I was at Jaipur and had no idea about contemporary developments in the field of Jaina studies, here the discourse (syllabus, suggested reading, lectures, events etc.) was more prominent on the secondary literature. Besides, as you might also be aware, students who come from a BA (Philosophy) program probably never get any exposure to Sanskrit. So that might also be a reason why a majority of students end up reading more on Western philosophical thought in comparison to Indian philosophy. The scholars who do have a strong background in Sanskrit and Indian philosophy are trained in the traditional way and are more comfortable in teaching in the same way. I hope I am responding to your questions! Jiinesh presenting a paper in a conference at University of Madras (7 January, 2020) Jinesh, I think you are raising very important questions relevant to the teaching of philosophy, especially, how Western and Indian philosophies should be taught? And I think your experience can inform and guide these questions. Therefore, would like to know your views about some of the hurdles you mention above. Let us focus on the last point: the way Indian philosophy is taught in university compared to traditional learning places. I completely agree with you that university curricula should also teach the required languages while teaching Indian and other philosophies (like Chinese and Islam philosophies). With no emphasis on language, as you mention, university education does not empower the students in pursuing these topics. With regard to the other point – primary vs secondary texts – one of the arguments for using non-primary sources (secondary sources) for teaching (either at BA/MA level) is that these texts provide an overview and presents a wider picture of a field/topic; primary texts become relevant only when focused research needs to be carried out. Thought of mentioning this argument to know your opinion. Since you have experienced both kinds of training – through primary texts (in Jaipur institute) and reading secondary texts (in the university) – what would be your suggestions for designing a philosophy curriculum? Do you think it is important to use and teach primary texts rather than secondary ones at BA/MA level? This response assumes that classical texts at the BA/MA level in the modern education space are more or less not introduced. If there are philosophy curriculums which offer a BA/MA degree in Philosophy and do involve the students into reading primary sources with respect to Indian philosophy, please let me / us know. I understand that there are always issues regarding what to include and what not to - even with reference to core philosophical topics. So further introducing primary texts would add the burden of learning a new language. Maybe summer programs/workshops can help the students to learn Sanskrit or maybe they are encouraged to take up a one-year certificate course during the BA program. Besides, the use of primary texts in the classroom at the undergraduate level need not be that rigorous (critical editions, going into the nuances of translations, manuscripts and variant readings, intensive grammar etc. can be ignored). I see quite a few students abroad who are in BA/MA programs, whether Indology or Religious Studies or Philosophy, and who are working on classical Indian texts, spending some time learning the primary language(s). Another issue that I think is that in the context of Indian philosophy, there are very few secondary sources which are completely objective and do justice to the text/tradition. I do not mean to say that being critical is not worth but that kind of critical scholarship is not helpful for an undergraduate student - especially when that student is getting introduced for the first time to a text/philosopher/tradition. I don’t think there is such a series of “Companion to” or a “very short introduction to” with reference to Indian philosophies and philosophers. Neither do we find good articles on each topic of Indian philosophy on Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (SEP) or Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy (IEP) (although they both cover a few topics) as we see with respect to Western philosophy. Lastly, from what I have observed, I also think that translating Sanskrit/Prakrit/Pali to English is not the same as translating Greek/German/French to English (though I hardly know anything about the latter three). So one can easily read “Republic” or “Critique of Pure Reason” (in English) without worrying to check the primary source at every instance but not so in the case of Sanskrit texts, and when there are very few good translations. So I think some access to the primary texts starting from the undergraduate level would go a long way in, as you rightly said, empowering the students in pursuing these topics. And maybe when the students pursue a Masters degree, they are equipped with skills for conducting further philosophical-textual research. Jinesh, thanks for these interesting points. I agree with your observations about the lack of academic works (like SEP, various Companions, etc.). I too miss this kind of ecosystem when exploring Indian Philosophy. However, I have a divergent opinion about Greek/Latin having a direct connection with the English language/tradition and this not being the case in the relation between Sanskrit and English. A lot of historical, social and political efforts have gone into establishing the seemingly no-gap between Greek and European traditions. Because of these efforts, it gives an impression that Aristotle and Kant are accessible in English. Also, another important query your response raises is the politics of language in the Indian context. Even though there are several classical languages relevant for studying Indian philosophies (Sanskrit, Pali, Prakrit), it's usually Sanskrit that is emphasised. So we need to discuss how to tackle this issue in our graduate courses. Probably, we can continue this conversation at a later point. Moving on, I want to know how you relate/work with different traditions of Philosophy like Analytic, Continental and even the various schools in the Indian context? Given that your current work is situated within one tradition (Jaina tradition), how do you think your work (at present and in the near future) will be? Do you want to situate yourself in a specific tradition? Or are you interested in working on specific threads that spawn across various traditions? Interested to know your views on these questions as you have straddled between different spheres of philosophical practices (traditional and modern university spaces) and also encounter doing philosophy in different languages (working on Sanskrit texts, but writing a dissertation in English). It was indeed an interesting discussion and would be happy to discuss it further on some other day. And thank you for these questions! Regarding my work, I see quite a few domains in which I can extend my current research on anekāntavāda further or maybe take up another project (within the Jain tradition) with some other fundamental topic. Some of the core areas in which I think I can work in the near future in the wider philosophical context vis-à-vis anekāntavāda are related to epistemology, ethics and logic. It is all still tentative and I too am unsure in which direction I would progress. Nevertheless, my time spent so far while doing research on anekāntavāda has certainly helped me in many ways. Given its meta-philosophical framework (this can be debated), I sometimes try to approach philosophical problems and arguments - whether emerging from continental or analytic tradition - in a non-one-sided way. Doing philosophy in different languages certainly has its own merits and demerits. On one hand, a wide variety of literature opens up for me and, on the other, writing in English was not easy in the beginning. Things have improved to a certain extent but there is a lot to learn! Translation is another issue that I constantly face. I haven’t yet published on areas central to my thesis though have been presenting them at conferences and looking forward to publishing a couple of papers by the end of my PhD. Some of the other papers that I have presented and/or published but are not directly connected to my ongoing work can be found here (researchgate) and here (academia) - not all are public but I can share via mail. I haven’t spent much time with Indian philosophy (in a comparative spirit) in the last few years such that it would result in some good output but I would like to revisit it in future. Moving forward, I would still want to continue specializing in a field related to Jain philosophy. Some of the other areas in contemporary philosophy which are of interest to me include consciousness studies, philosophy of science and hermeneutics. Comparative philosophy is another area which I would like to explore in future. So, coming to the final stages of this exciting conversation, I (and the readers as well) would like to know a little more about you, about your ongoing and upcoming research. And if possible, I would particularly be also interested in knowing how philosophy has shaped your research in natural science(s) and/or the other way round. Jinesh, thanks for your interest in my views. For me, most of the "philosophy of ___" enterprises (like philosophy of language, art, film, law, etc.) are important exercises and interventions where core philosophical tools are used to understand something else. So, the philosophy of science has primarily taught me how to apply philosophy in addressing other disciplines questions. At present, some of my works are situated in the area of philosophy of physics. I am currently developing on a topic that I could briefly cover in my PhD research: the philosophical analysis of interference phenomena in classical and quantum optics. After this, I would probably want to spend some time with specific questions of metaphysics (individuation and compositionality of objects) that have always excited me. I want to end this conversation by seeking your opinion on one last thing. According to you, what initiatives and activities would be helpful/useful for the academic philosophy community in India? How do you think we -- philosophers in India -- should organise such that it not only supports us but also creates a vibrant ecosystem for philosophy in India? Your suggestions and ideas might resonate with other readers and this could mobilise into something concrete. Not to mention, these suggestions of yours would play a crucial role in the shaping of IPN. It is fascinating to know about your current and future research. I would like to know more, hopefully, when we shall meet someday in-person! As a student and a young researcher , I think a few initiatives that might help in the long run would include: Undergraduate and / or Graduate Peer reviewed Journal (I don’t know if there exist any) Conferences specific for graduate students (which could then also result into a publication into the above journal) Writing workshops / sessions (for PhD students) - I think writing sessions are a must for postgraduate students (I can volunteer for this if someone may guide). Database of submitted theses (and linking them with those which are available on shodhganga ) - I think if we do not know or if we do not have access to the PhDs submitted earlier, there is always a fear of reproducing what has already been done. Once in a quarter or six months, an online meet of IPN members - it could be informal as well: sharing experiences and problems that one faces in their respective areas (research, teaching etc.). Sometimes, this meet may also take shape of an academic event where a guest speaker might address the IPN community. I am not sure whether these suggestions or ideas are realistic. I am also not aware if something is already being planned. That being said, I am really grateful to all the moderators and founding members of IPN. The Telegram and WhatsApp groups have helped me. Once, I had a chance to listen to David Chalmers live! It would not have been possible if not for Phil-India Telegram / WhatsApp groups. The Google group too is great. I am indeed grateful to you for all the wonderful questions and your generosity that allowed me to express myself freely throughout the conversation. The errors are still mine and I am always happy to revisit my views. Lastly, thanks to the readers for their patient reading!

Review of R. Krishnaswamy's Book Adreeja Sarkar PhD Scholar, Jawaharlal Nehru University Jun 2, 2024 Book review of R. Krishnaswamy's book The Call for Recognition: Naturalizing Political Norms (Routledge 2023). In our decision-making procedures, our reasons for actions are ushered by norms, whether they be of the informal kind or in the form of decrees and sanctions. Norms are effective means to acquire and conserve social welfare. Like symbiotic fungi that enable nutrient transfer and ecological restoration, norms are the ties that bind us in a system of social cooperation and collective growth. The relation between norms and agents is thus, a mutual one. Agents in any social group or collective need norms for the proper functioning of the group just as norms require performing agents to coordinate and cooperate so that the overall normative framework of the group can evolve for the better. The relation is also dynamic because in order to evolve together, both norms and behavioural attitudes and actions of agents demand flexibility and openness to change as prerequisites. The structure of norms appears to be (a) heavily influenced by the socio-cultural contexts from which they arise while simultaneously aiming towards (b) a 'transcendence' through the attainment of universalizability. Even though parochial socio-cultural group beliefs may differ in character, there prevails some homogeneity among the contents of specific norms despite differences. There is an everlasting debate regarding whether normativity [1] arises through social agreement (anti-foundationalism) or is it entirely objective in nature (essentialism), i.e., where the truth or 'rightness' of values have an 'essence' (independently) existing out there in the world, free from any subjective preferences. Analyzing the structure of social norms constitutes a critical step in the process of interpreting social justice. If norms are solely anthropological, then they eventually suffer from absolute relativism. Contrarily, if norms are solely objective or universal then justice or fairness becomes a very rigid domain ignoring socio-cultural specificities. The sources of these norms aren't easy to decipher, more so, when one delves into their formation, functionality, purpose and impact in our everyday lives. One also needs to bring into the discussion the concepts of identity, autonomy, intention, motivation, behaviour and action in both individual and collective contexts. Krishnaswamy’s book can be considered as an inquiry into the grounds of normativity involving these aspects. He takes up questions like – what constitutes our social and political norms, how do we understand social agency (in theory and praxis) and how a right political institution can be crucial in enabling the required grounds for these norms. In the process of doing so, he provides a panoramic picture of the traditional and current interpretations of political agency and the interactions between socio-political principles and subjecthood. The book, as he states in his introduction, can be divided into two phases. In the initial chapters, he performs the job of a critic by assessing the various traditions of political theories and citing the incompatibilities or dis-connect existing between their notions of the right political institution and social agency. The latter chapters focus more on constructing a different perspective in viewing norms, social agency and the roles of a political institution. At the heart of his normative framework lies the shaping of our identity as political subjects on the basis of ‘recognition’. Simply put, he provides a recognitional model [2] as a normative ideal in understanding our behaviour as social agents. In a recognitional model, political agency is understood from an inter-subjective perspective as in, how we recognize the other and are recognized by them. To recognize any entity, he states, is to apply a social identity to that entity which further reveals the various relations that the said entity exists in, within a community. We are first and foremost, social beings and any talk on normativity has to take into consideration our existence in relations. However, this model of recognition is not a mere static representation of reality for the author. He considers it to be a dynamic and flexible process where we not only learn how to situate each other socially but also moderate social categories while acknowledging novel experiences individually and collectively. Recognition, to him, acts as a way out of the extremities of subjectivism and objectivism in the analysis of normativity. The normative agency in a recognitional model is a social given. There are no prior conditions that might act as a foundation to what an agent ought to do. In fact, that one is an agent is sufficient enough a reason to consider her as a legitimate subject for (a) dispensing social categories and (b) being the bearer of social norms. Krishnaswamy argues that the need for equal normative status is justified by the mere existence of a 'society' and the existence of people living in the society. Social violence or silencing occurs when any agent is denied their fundamental normative right i.e., the right to participate in any normative discourse within the society. One of his major claims in the book is that only a recognitional political framework, through its non-essentialist, relational ethic can help us arrive at the legitimacy of norms in attaining collective welfare. The method he cites in developing such a recognitional framework is to first situate agency and autonomy as inseparable from the natural and social environments they are based in. Accordingly, he goes on to explain that intentionality/self-realization emerges as a normative quality guided by biological forces. He interprets internalization of laws as the recognition or knowledge that – "the patterns of behavioural change are consequences of other normative rules which dictate how naturalistic laws inform our agency".[3] In the following phase of the analysis, he aims to show that the standards for normative actions are public in nature by virtue of containing shared intentions. Norms become public due to the intentional performance of the individuals of a group and eventually become historical, capable of providing motivational impact over longer periods of time. Regarding the interrelation between normative behaviour and natural dispositions, Krishnaswamy (following anti-essentialist claims) argues that our reasons for actions cannot belong to a different cognitive realm from the actions themselves. Here, he uses the example of learning languages (where one needs to follow rules but a cognitive grasp of the rules prior to speaking doesn’t necessarily help in actually speaking the language) to reiterate that situating norms in a different realm separate from pre-cognitive level of conscious actions would rarely help in comprehending the structure of our normative behaviour. Norms are constructed out of the interpretations and reactions of multiple agents of the collective towards each other and their immediate environment. Social coordination among individuals of a collective arise due to shared intentions.[4] Planning structures of individual agencies form the connecting link between individual and shared agencies. Our capacity for planning agency, as Bratman puts it, is a core capacity that underlies interrelated forms of mind-shaped practical organization: cross-temporal organization of individual agency, shared agency, social rules, and rule-guided organized institutions. One function of our capacity for planning agency is the preference for these forms of practical organization.[5] These planning structures lead to the continuity between individual agency and shared agency. In order to establish the larger aim of his thesis – that rules or norms have to emerge out of people’s natural and social contexts – he points at how intentions while being collective also need to be cognitively 'recognized' by agents. Normative political programmes will always be lacking in their discussions about justice and fairness if they ignore the realities of our practical lives. The far removal from practical predicaments would result in a dissonance between how people cognize they should act and how they actually act in everyday circumstances. According to him, norms are created through collective action by 'joint agreement'. Mutual commitments and obligations arise from the moral grounding that our social and cultural realities provide. Our understanding of moral right or wrong arises from our lived experiences. Practical instances in life almost often inculcate implicit agreements that make joint action towards shared goals possible. This differs from how joint agreement works in social contract frameworks where agreement is required to be individualistic and explicit. Krishnaswamy claims that the fact that we can plan and intend goals is what gives us the capacity to commit. Following Gilbert[6], he argues that collective goals are separate from personal goals, and normative commitments are social in nature. He shows how singularist accounts of intentionality and normative commitments lead to individualist political philosophies. To create a good social and political theory of obligation we ought to begin with exploring how norms are a natural part of our collective existence. He further argues that if norms are public and are generated out of collective behaviour then rules of social action get their power to be obligatory only when they are recognized by all the members of that group. The formal conditions for institutional behaviour is based on collective dispositions, i.e., the recognition of norms along with relevant normative expectations shared by agents. The recognition of norms entails the acceptance of that norm and the readiness to bind ourselves to the norm. Political institutions since they aim to regulate behaviour through collective rules need continual performative reinforcement by the people to whom those rules are directed. It becomes important that institutions then take into consideration the natural social conditions of the people by analyzing pragmatic instances. It is through this that social silencing and injustice can be checked. Political injustice occurs either through coercion or the deliberate or non-deliberate overlooking of contextual differences prevailing in intersubjective recognition. Recognitional ethics requires equal participation of agents as well as institutions in rule formation and enactment. Krishnaswamy quite aptly puts forward one limitation of such a normative framework. While normative reflexivity of agents is a product of inter-personal interactions, interpretation of norms is bound to vary from person to person. Demands for conformity among group members may lead to coercion or ostracization if some members do not conform to the group identity. He holds the opinion that group conformity might not always ensure the absence of discrimination. In order to avoid such cases, political institutions must create safe spaces where silencing and feelings of hurt and discrimination can be conceptually addressed. The book aims to analyze natural social conditions phenomenologically to find solutions to the limitations of the objectivist idea of justice. His stance of political naturalism is a novel interdisciplinary attempt to bridge the gap between objectivist and relativist approaches to social reality and justice. A Few Challenges The author does not, however, draw a very distinct line as to where the 'natural' ends and the 'social' begins in the 'natural social conditions' that he talks about. As such, the sources of normativity or normative agency remain a bit hazy. Intersubjective understanding and knowledge demands detailed analysis of how a recognitional model would define collective intentionality. Whether collective intentionality and group agency are reducible to individual intentions or whether it is the case that one common intention is jointly shared by all the members need to be assessed. The recognitional model has to explain how to bridge the gaps between emotivism and intuitionism when it comes to intersubjective interpretations. (Assuming that a recognitional model implements the concepts of empathy and trust for its functioning, it also needs to be addressed how empathy and trust would function in intersubjective interpretations.) If joint agreements imply individual planning capabilities for forming norms and institutions, what ensures agent A that another agent B would respond likewise? If we base our inter-subjective interpretations on ‘collective intentionality’ while simultaneously retaining intentional capabilities of individual agents, then this would lead to the problem of circularity. How should we then understand the plurality of subjectivity in contexts involving collectives like institutions as well as contexts including random groups? Again, in a country like India, for instance, with diverse inherent contextual features, how should the justification of uniform truths/norms be done? Krishnaswamy’s book initiates interesting arenas for further discussions on the concepts of coordination, agreement and collaboration in dealing with epistemic injustice. His recognitional model takes up a naturalistic approach to social construction. For the model to be seen as an explanation, some clarification about its justification is needed. The Call for Recognition: Naturalizing Political Norms sets up room for interdisciplinary analysis and will be an intriguing read for scholars of law, social and political philosophy, social epistemology, meta-ethics and social ontology. Endnotes [1] Normativity is the capacity to describe any claim as action-guiding in the sense of right/wrong and good/bad. [2] Influenced by Hegelian anti-essentialism. [3] Chapter 6: Socio-Natural Embeddedness, p-123. The Call for Recognition: Naturalizing Political Norms . 2023 [4] Bratman, 2014; Gilbert, 2006; Velleman, 2000 [5] Bratman, Planning and Its Function in Our Lives , Volume41, Issue1 Special Issue:Society for Applied Philosophy Annual Lecture 2023 Symposium , p-1-15, feb 2024. [6] Gilbert, 2006. References Bratman, Michael. (2014). Shared Agency: A Planning Theory of Acting Together . Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. —- Planning and Its Function in Our Lives , Volume41, Issue1. Special Issue:Society for Applied Philosophy Annual Lecture 2023 Symposium , p-1-15, feb 2024. Gilbert, Margaret. (2006). A Theory of Obligation Membership, Commitment, and the Bonds of Society . Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. Velleman, David. (2000). The Possibility of Practical Reason . Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.