7.4 Pedagogy, Adult Education, and Curriculum
Throughout this section, the focus will be on the similarities and differences between pedagogy and adult education, also known as andragogy. In addition, a framework will be provided for self-engaged learning in order to the develop curriculum. Pedagogy derives from the Greek etymology of ‘paidos,’ meaning child or boy, and ‘agogos,’ meaning leader, so the leading of the child through knowledge. In common terms, pedagogy simply refers to the science of teaching. Andragogy is the art and science of adult education. It was Malcolm Knowles who developed this method in the early 20th century, when adults wanted to expand their knowledge after World War I, and the classic pedagogical model needed revising for adults[10].
Both pedagogy and andragogy require educational leadership. There are, however, differences in what learning looks like. Pedagogical concepts tend to be content-centred, as opposed to learner-centred in andragogical forms. Adult education should be focused on involvement and the experience of adult learners[10]. Below is a matrix outlining the impact of each method on areas in the learning paradigm.
| Pedagogical | Andragogical | |
|---|---|---|
| The Learner |
|
|
| Role of the Learners’ Experiences |
|
|
| Readiness to Learn |
|
|
| Orientation to Learning |
|
|
| Motivation for Learning |
|
|
Learning styles can be compared between these two approaches. Self-engaged learning, from Samaroo, Cooper, and Green, promotes an effective learning environment for engaged individuals of all ages that promote self-efficacy and exploration in a term coined pedandragogy[11]. Pedandragogy calls for the core elements of pedagogy and andragogy to be synthesized so that self-engaged learning by individuals of all ages can be achieved. Combining subject matter and evaluation attempts to create a structure that reinforces the learning and engagement of an individual. This is not to be considered a 50/50 split, but rather a gradation of the best possible outcomes based on the characteristics of the learners involved.
The importance of pedagogy and andragogy relies on its interpretation towards developing curriculum. Curriculum, according to Egan, is the course of learning experiences planned towards goals and learning outcomes in a school setting. It is a phenomenological construct that observes questions of pedagogical and andragogical principles[12]. Egan reflects on his previous assertion that curriculum is not static. It can be dynamic and provide many different views and reforms for change[13]. Ultimately, the curriculum stipulates the course of action for pedagogical or andragogical design and develops learning outcomes for students over the course of their studies. The goal is to develop competent individuals. Furthermore, the curriculum provides various forms of design that accommodate educators and learners toward the desired learning outcomes. The activities below will help you to better understand and test your knowledge of pedagogy, andragogy, and curriculum.


[From Congo Life and Folklore by John Weeks, 1921. See item #197 in the Bibliography.]
A Frog, having built a nice town, received a visit from several well-dressed young men. The Frog welcomed them, and they very civilly answered his greetings. The Frog asked them where they were going, and they replied, “We are not going anywhere in particular; we are just walking about, visiting the towns.”
The Frog called out his thirty wives to come and pay their respects to the visitors, and they came out of their houses and greeted the young men. The wives asked their husband how he came to know them, and he replied, “I do not know them but, seeing them well dressed, I saluted them.”
“Oh! You welcomed them because they are well dressed,” they retorted, “yet ever since we married you, we have never received any new clothes from you.”
“Never mind,” he said. “I am well known as a great chief who has built a whole town and married thirty wives.”
“Oh yes,” they answered, “you are well known, but we work and farm, and we have no clothes, only rags; hence you don’t respect us like those who are well dressed.”
The Frog could say nothing in reply to his wives.
Then he asked the young men where and how he could buy some clothes, and they told him that if he carried some peanuts to Mboma, he could buy plenty there, and the road was not difficult to find, for if he followed the river he would reach there in a few days. The Frog was glad to hear this, and thereupon he killed six chickens and made a feast for his friends, and he told each of his wives to bring him a large basket of peanuts in the morning, for he said, “Although I am a big chief of a large town, I feel ashamed because my wives have had no new clothes since I married them, and they do not dress properly.”
The next morning the peanuts were brought and tied into a load, and for the journey some food was prepared, and the Frog started, telling his wives that he would be back in twenty days. On the third day of his journey, the Frog reached a large baobab tree that had fallen across the road, and while he was considering how he, a person with such short legs, could jump over it, he heard a voice say, “If you are a strong man, please put down your bundle and save me, for as I was on my way to visit my wife’s family, this tree fell on me and has held me here for twenty months. Have pity on me, and help me now from under this tree.”
When the Frog heard this, he at once put down his load and went under the tree, and swelled and swelled until he lifted it and the Snake (for that was who was under the tree) was able to crawl out; then the Frog let the tree down again and went to pick up his load to continue his journey.
The Snake, however, immediately caught him by the leg and told him to get ready to be swallowed. The Frog said, “What have I done that you should swallow me? For although I had a right to be paid for helping you, yet I did not ask for anything! Let me go on my way to Mboma.”
While they were arguing about this, an Antelope arrived, and he was asked to judge between them, but when he had heard the whole matter, he was afraid to settle the affair properly, for he said to himself, “If I let the Frog go, who is right but little, then the Snake will kill me.” So the Antelope gave the verdict in favour of the Snake.
The Snake quickly said, “Do you hear that? Get ready at once and I will swallow you.”
But the Frog cried, “He would have given me the verdict, only he is afraid of you.”
While they were discussing this point, a Fox arrived on the scene, and he wanted to hear all about it. When the case was laid before him, the Snake said, “Am I not in the right? For I am very hungry and want to swallow the Frog.”
But the Fox said, “Did the Frog truly lift that tree?” and would not give the verdict until he had seen the Frog lift the tree, so he said to the Snake, “Release the Frog’s leg, and let him go and raise the tree,” which the Frog did at once.
The Fox said, “Truly, the Frog is very strong to lift so large a tree. Now, Snake, you go under it, and show us how you were lying beneath the tree.”
So the Snake went, thinking he would surely win the case as the judge was taking so much trouble over it, but the Snake was no sooner under the tree than the Fox called out, “Frog, let go the tree,” and down it came right on the Snake, holding him so that he could not get away.
The Fox then said to the Snake, “You are entirely in the wrong, for your friend did a kindness to you in helping you in your trouble, but you want to repay him by a bad deed — you want to swallow him.”
Thereupon they all went away, leaving the Snake under the tree, as no one would help him again for fear of his ingratitude. The Frog thanked the Fox for saving him and gave him his load of peanuts, and they became great friends.


The White Wampum
At Sunset
To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.
I seem to hear a bar of music float
And swoon into the west;
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,
But something in my breast
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one,
As cloud and colour blend at set of sun.
And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o’er my lonely soul.
I know not why, but all my being longed
And leapt at that sweet call;
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged
And beat against Fate’s wall,
Crying in utter homesickness to be
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me.


Chapter 15: Oscillations (Volume 1)
15 Introduction
William Moebs; Samuel J. Ling; and Jeff Sanny
Chapter outline
We begin the study of oscillations with simple systems of pendulums and springs. Although these systems may seem quite basic, the concepts involved have many real-life applications. For example, the Comcast Building in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, stands approximately 305 meters (1000 feet) tall. As buildings are built taller, they can act as inverted, physical pendulums, with the top floors oscillating due to seismic activity and fluctuating winds. In the Comcast Building, a tuned-mass damper is used to reduce the oscillations. Installed at the top of the building is a tuned, liquid-column mass damper, consisting of a 300,000-gallon reservoir of water. This U-shaped tank allows the water to oscillate freely at a frequency that matches the natural frequency of the building. Damping is provided by tuning the turbulence levels in the moving water using baffles.


Digital Scholarship and the Digital Humanities
It is clear that the humanities are becoming more “digital” due to the shift from analog to digital, which necessitates the use of digital methods. However, the digital humanities, if it is to remain vibrant, must maintain its humanities focus. In this respect, the digital humanities are not considered as a new paradigm, but in addition to enhancing existing methods which are now done in new ways, stimulate new ways of thinking about the traditional and standard practices of the humanities. In other words, the digital humanities have radically changed humanities scholarship , but does not radically change the questions, methods, and aims of the humanities themselves. For instance, computational technology has facilitated the development and adoption of distant reading, in which many texts or large corpora are analyzed with advanced methods and visualization. Such analysis was not possible without computational tools. However, these advances have not fundamentally altered the questions that humanists investigate. Although some subdisciplines of the humanities will not necessarily morph into digital versions, they will likely be affected and influenced by the fact that the materials they work with will increasingly be digitized, born-digital, or reborn-digital, and that digital methods and tools will be used to analyze and interpret these materials
As media studies scholar Niels Brügger puts it: “…in the 21st century the difference between the humanities and the Digital Humanities is quantitative rather than qualitative: all parts of the humanities will become digital to some extent, but not all will become digital to the same extent. Thus, the main question is not one of being digital or not, but rather one of being more or less digital” (Brügger, 2016).


Lab 1 Activity
Overview
For Labs 1 and 2, you will identify 22 mineral samples based on observations of their physical properties. The samples include the following minerals:
| Amphibole | Galena | Muscovite | Quartz (Milky) |
| Apatite | Graphite | Olivine | Quartz (Rock Crystal) |
| Biotite | Gypsum | Plagioclase feldspar | Quartz (Rose) |
| Calcite | Halite | Potassium feldspar | Sphalerite |
| Chalcopyrite | Hematite | Pyrite | |
| Fluorite | Magnetite | Pyroxene |
The minerals are divided into two groups, one for each lab. For each of the groups you will receive clues to help guide your detective work.
Samples to Use for Lab 1
Collect the following mineral samples:
| MI-01 | MI-06 | MI-13 | MI-23 |
| MI-03 | MI-07 | MI-15 | MI-24 |
| MI-04a | MI-09 | MI-16 |
Clues
- All but one of the samples have excellent cleavage in one or more directions.
- The sample without cleavage is a good example of crystal form.
- Two of the samples have a metallic or submetallic lustre.
What to Do Next
Use the Lab 1 worksheet (Figure 1.20) to record your observations and guide you through the identification process for each mineral. Refer to Tables 1.2 to 1.4, and/or the Mineral ID Decision Tool in the Reference Tools for Minerals section of this lab manual to help you match your observations with a name.


73 5.5 Ensuring Ethical Marketing and Sales
Learning Objectives
- Explain the importance of ethics policies and a culture of accountability for all employees
- Identify the unique ethical considerations and roles for company executives
- Describe how companies manage ethical behavior of marketing employees
- Describe measures companies take to encourage ethical behavior
Ethical issues arise at both an organizational level and an individual level. A single individual can engage in unethical behavior, but most ethical breaches that have significant impact on a business occur when many individuals come together to act unethically. This section will review the steps that businesses take at each level to define ethical behavior and create a culture that encourages employees to do the right thing.
“The way to gain a good reputation is to endeavour to be what you desire to appear.”—Socrates
Learning Activities
- Reading: A Culture of Accountability
- Reading: Executive Role in Ethics
- Reading: Ethics for Marketing Employees
- Simulation: Ethics


4.7 References
Berghoef, K. (2019). Implicit bias: What it means and how it affects behavior. ThoughtCo, Jun, 21, 2019.
Crenshaw, K. W. (1991). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241–1299.
Edgoose, J., Quiogue, M., & Sidhar, K. (2019). How to identify, understand, and unlearn implicit bias in patient care. Family Practice Management, 26(4), 29–33.
Hays, P. A. (2001). Addressing cultural complexities in practice: A framework for clinicians and counselors. American Psychological Association.
Hays, P. A. Connecting across cultures: The helper’s toolkit. SAGE, pp. 15–16. Original version published in Hays, P. A. (2008). Addressing cultural complexities in practice: Assessment, diagnosis, and therapy. American Psychological Association.
Hill Collins, P. (2005).  Routledge.
Hofstede, G. (1991). Empirical models of cultural differences. In N. Bleichrodt & P. J. D. Drenth (Eds.), Contemporary issues in cross-cultural psychology (pp. 4–20). Swets & Zeitlinger Publishers.
Global Institute of Social Work. (2022). Social work history. Retrieved August 19, 2022, from https://www.thegisw.org/table-of-contents
Kanter, R. M. (1977). Men and women of the corporation. Basic Books.
Kumagai, A. K., & Lypson, M.L. (2009). Beyond cultural competence: Critical consciousness, social justice, and multicultural education. Academic Medicine, 84(6), 782–787. http://dx.doi.org/10.1097/ACM.0b013e3181a42398
Kumas-Tan Z., Beagan B., Loppie C., MacLeod A., & Frank B. (2007). Measures of cultural competence: Examining hidden assumptions. Academic Medicine, 82(6), 548–557. http://dx.doi.org/10.1097/ACM.0b013e3180555a2d
Lustig, M. W., & Koester, J. (1999). Intercultural competence: Interpersonal communication across cultures. Addison-Wesley.
Morgan, R. (1996). Introduction – planetary feminism: The politics of the 21st century. In R. Morgan (Ed.), Sisterhood is global: The international women’s movement anthology (pp. 1–37). The Feminist Press at CUNY.
Owens, A. (2019). Building inequality: Housing segregation and income segregation. Sociological Science, 6(19). http://dx.doi.org/10.15195/v6.a19
Puar, J. K. (2012).  PhiloSOPHIA, 2(1), 49-66.
Shaiai, W. (n.d.) SHARP: A framework for addressing the contexts of poverty. https://www.wendyshaia.com/sharp-framework
Sherer, K. (2018). What is tokenism, and why does it matter in the workplace? Vanderbilt University Owen Graduate School of Management. https://business.vanderbilt.edu/news/2018/02/26/tokenism-in-the-workplace/
Tervalon, M., & Murray-Garcia, J. (1998). Cultural humility versus cultural competence: A critical distinction in defining physician training outcomes in multicultural education. Journal of Health Care for the Poor and Underserved, 9(2), 117–125. http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/hpu.2010.0233
Weissman, J. S., Betancourt, J., Campbell, E. G., Park, E. R., Kim, M., Clarridge, B., & Maina, A.W. (2005). Resident physicians’ preparedness to provide cross-cultural care. Journal of the American Medical Association, 294(9), 1058–1067. http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/jama.294.9.1058
X, Malcolm. (1963, 23 January). The race problem in America. African Students Association and NAACP Campus Chapter. Michigan State University, East Lansing, Michigan.
Yeager, K. A., & Bauer-Wu, S. (2013). Cultural humility: Essential foundation for clinical researchers. Applied Nursing Research, 26(4), 251–256.


The Role of Technology
Prof. Stephen Ramsay, a fellow of the Center for Digital Research in the Humanities at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, argues that digital humanists are involved in the activity of building, an activity which he (provocatively) implies distinguishes those that “do” digital humanities and those that do not. He emphasizes that although coding is a worthwhile activity for digital humanists, building is different from programming, or coding, or developing software or algorithms. He also says that Alan Liu (see above) does not self-consciously describe himself as a builder, but nonetheless earns that designation from his tool building, evidenced by the “grease under his fingernails” (Ramsay, 2016a).
He states: “All the technai of Digital Humanities — data mining, [XML] encoding, text analysis, [GIS], Web design, visualization, programming, tool design, database design, etc — involve building; only a few of them require programming, per se. Only a radical subset of the [DH] community knows how to code; nearly all are engaged in building something” (Ramsay, 2016a).
Another definition that emphasizes the variety of the discipline follows (Garcia-Peñalvo, 2016):
“Digital humanities is the research area at the intersection between computing and the broad variety of humanities disciplines. There is not a unique definition of what digital humanities is. Kathie Gosset defines digital humanities as ‘an umbrella term that covers a wide variety of digital work in the humanities: development of multimedia pedagogies and scholarship, designing and building tools, human computer interaction, designing and building archives, and so on.’ DH is interdisciplinary; by necessity it breaks down boundaries between disciplines at the local (e.g., English and history) and global (e.g., humanities and computer sciences) levels”, while Mark Tebeau defines it as “a collaborative, open, and emerging field of inquiry. A state of mind, a methodology, and theoretical approach to knowledge, it forces us to reconceive our practice. In my own work, I embrace curation as a means of reweaving and reintegrating theory and practice in history. I seek to interpret space, place, and identity in a multi-sensory way. I fail more often than not. But the digital humanities is like jazz in that it is about process, as well as outcome” (Gold & others, 2012), cited in (Garcia-Peñalvo, 2016)).
This definition encapsulates the interdisciplinarity and collaborative nature of digital humanities work, especially the intersection of “technical” areas of computer science (and computation in general) and mathematics (including statistics) and traditional humanities disciplines. It also alludes to interdisciplinarity within the humanities (e.g. English and history).
In terms of technology:
“[…the Digital Humanities] move beyond a privileging of the textual, emphasizing graphical methods of knowledge production and organization, design as an integral component of research, transmedia crisscrossing, and an expanded concept of the sensorium humanistic knowledge […] characterized by an intensified focus on building transferrable tools, environments, and platforms for collaborative scholarly work […] and an emphasis upon curation as a defining feature of scholarly practice.” (Lugmayr & Teras, 2015), quoting (Burdick et al., 2012))
However, Lugmayr suspects that this definition may be overly-restrictive and expands it (Lugmayr & Teras, 2015),. DH is essentially a response to innovations in digital technology and computation for analysis of humanities knowledge. These computing technologies and tools are used to create new artefacts, and DH focuses on researching these new artefacts vis-à-vis human constructs. Emerging technologies can be leveraged to expand human capabilities, and it is necessary to investigate how of humanistic knowledge – defined by [Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary] “human constructs, concerns, social relations, and the quality of being human” – relates to artefacts created in the physical world, as well as digitally. A major task of DH is therefore, through interdisciplinary humanities and computer science research, to identify and apply a computational tools and techniques to formulate new “humanistic concepts, knowledge, experience, and extension of human capabilities”. His formal definition is given as follows (Lugmayr & Teras, 2015):
“[Digital Humanities is the] [i]nvestigation of humanistic knowledge – defined by [2] “human constructs, concerns, social relations, and the quality of being human” – created in the analogue as well as digital domain by identifying and applying a generalized toolset of computational technologies, methods, and tools through a cross-disciplinary humanities-computer science research approach to create new humanistic concepts, knowledge, experience, and extension of human capabilities.”


2 October 2004: Wilson, Gem of the Ocean
Huntington Theater Company, at Boston University. Directed by Kenny Leon.
August Wilson has written this play late in his cycle of ten plays spanning the twentieth century; chronologically, however, it falls as the first, set in 1904 in the Hill District of Pittsburgh. And so, if we are pleased to think of it this way, it serves as an after-several-facts introduction to the entire cycle. The play features as its central character Aunt Ester, who is now more than two centuries old, having sustained the notorious Middle Passage in which African slaves were transported to America. Many of those slaves died en route, their bodies were buried at sea, and the result, over the years, was the building up of an enormous graveyard of bones in the mid-Atlantic. This quasi-fiction — that the bones are all in one place on the floor of the Atlantic — becomes part of the founding myth of the play, the truth that pervades the culture of Blacks in America and, even forty years after the Civil War and Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, sets them apart, in their own consciousnesses and in the brutal post-Reconstruction days whose time provides the temporal setting for this complex, moving, truth-telling play.
It is a play that is long on character and theme and short on plot. A man who seems to be on the run, named Citizen Barlow, arrives at Aunt Ester’s house (1839 Wylie Avenue, once a symbol of upper-class prosperity, now fallen on hard times) to see Ester because of her reputed wisdom. She eventually leads him through a sort of shamanistic exorcism — he having previously told her, in one of Wilson’s signature monologues, that he stole a bucket of nails and allowed another man to be condemned for it. That other man walked into the water and drowned rather than be punished for a crime of which he was innocent. Citizen carries the guilt of this event with him, and it is this guilt that is exorcised, in a scene in which Ester acts as a shaman in an ornate shawl and two other characters put on masks reminiscent of African witch doctors. I had the distinct impression, as this scene progressed, that Wilson had read O’Neill’s Emperor Jones and was writing his own version, in a kind of ironic echo, of a process in which a man resists first his own guilty past and then the historical past and then, via the symbolic means of a small, folded brown paper boat, his African origins and, finally, his own soul.
This is powerful stuff, but it is surrounded by other characters’ strivings to survive, live and feed themselves in the hostile world of turn-of-the-century Pittsburgh. Things happen: a mill is burned down, forcing hundreds of poorly paid Blacks out of work. Caesar, the brother of Black Mary, the chief cook and servant in Ester’s household, is a deputy sheriff who packs a gun and a white man’s uncompromising attitude toward even the slightest transgression of the law. And there is Solly Two Kings, who early on gets a letter from his sister in Alabama saying she can hardly survive and who plans to go back to Alabama and rescue her. But Solly, it turns out, is the perpetrator who set the mill on fire and who then becomes the object of Caesar’s outrage and determination to bring the criminal to justice. In the last scene of the play, Solly, who has been mortally wounded, is brought into Ester’s house to die. As he is dying, Black Mary has a showdown with Caesar, her elder brother, telling him that she no longer recognizes in him the brother, kind and generous and helpful, that she once knew. Solly dies, and the play ends — in a way reminiscent of the ending of Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — on this somber note of a killing of one member of the black community by another.
Wilson writes from the gut, and his voice is an utterly authentic one. He lets his characters speak for themselves — there are perhaps four autobiographical monologues in the play — and it is their stories that commingle and make up the bulk of the play. I felt the ending of the play to be at once moving, sobering, and inadequate. Wilson presumably means this killing to be not only illustrative but emblematic of the plight of Blacks in this country: the last result of slavery, in this dramaturgical scheme, is that it pits black bitterly against black, to the dehumanizing of some and the detriment of all. This is a bitter indictment, and it gets at us all where we live. The problem — and it remains a problem as the lights go out — is one of finding a dramatic action that will measure up, in comprehensiveness, articulateness, and specificity, to the importance and value of Wilson’s thematic perceptions. I left the theatre feeling both moved and confused, and it was not until now, on the morning after, that I found I had sorted out my confusion. Wilson’s characters are real, vibrant, with depths and complexities equal to any in the modern American theatre. But, in this instance, at least, he has not quite found a central action that, in power and scope as well as in passion, is a sufficient match, a sufficiently all-embracing summary, acted out, of the fiery and compelling truths and insights that move him so powerfully as a playwright.


38 Mod 11 Journal
Nombre:
Fecha:
Mi Diario (My Journal)
Module 11
Big Picture: In this journal entry, I want you to write about what you do on different days of the week, different months, and different seasons and how often you do it. I also want you to state where you are on certain days to practice using the verb estar with location. You also must tell me what you like to do in your time. Finally, I want you to write your birthday to verify that you know how to say dates using the correct format.
Specifics:
- Write 5 sentences saying what you do on different days on how often (5 pts)
- Write 5 sentences saying what you do during different months and how often (5 pts)
- Write 4 sentences saying what you do during the 4 different seasons and how often (4 pts)
- Write 5 sentences using the verb estar to describe your location on different days of the weeks, months, or seasons (5pts)
- State what you like to do in your free time. (1 pt)
- State your birthday (1 pt)
Total points = 21 pts (21 sentences total)
Examples:
- Los lunes, siempre voy a la escuela. (On Mondays, I always go to school.)
- Durante febrero, miro la tele a veces. (During February, I watch TV sometimes.)
- Trabajo con frecuencia en mi jardín durante el verano. (I work frequently in my garden during the summer.)
- Estoy en la iglesia los domingos. (I’m in church on Sundays.)
- En mi tiempo libre, me gusta leer. (In my free time, I like to read.)
- Mis cumpleaños es el 24 de noviembre. (My birthday is the 24 of November.)


Chapter 5: Maintaining Focus and Purpose: The Body Paragraphs
Exit Strategy: Composing the Final Body Paragraphs
We have arrived at the crux of our argument, the apex of our analysis. Best now to review once again our three-storey thesis, paying particular attention to the third storey.
Example
Speaking to an audience of first year university students in Canada, Charles Justice in “The Ultimate Communications App” utilizes the contrast of “cooperation” and “conflict” in combination with the repetition of the word “common” in closing his argument. From this, Justice is arguing that while humans have become distanced into “occupying different places” through technological, agricultural and domestication evolution, it is the shared historical fact that humanity grew from the same original roots of collective language construction that unites every modern person to their human counterparts around the globe. Reiterating his definition of the common as “a level-playing field,” Justice concludes with a call to arms extolling humans to grasp their ethical responsibility not only to each other but to “share” in the present concerns of a globalized population of humans in the entire “Earth’s biosphere.”
It is also a good idea to remind ourselves of some of the questions we were asking when we developed this third storey in Chapter 3.
Example
When adding a third storey to this two-storey thesis, you must consider the logical extensions of this argument as they relate to the original text as a whole. In general, when developing your third storey, you might ask:
- Is the author offering a solution to a problem raised earlier in the text?
- Is the author warning of specific further consequences that will arise from a problem raised earlier in the text?
- What does the author want their reader to leave the text thinking or doing?
In the body paragraphs that flow from this third storey, we will reach a little further and make connections that solidify our reading of this text. We can make these leaps with confidence having established our analysis in the five body paragraphs leading to this. As always, it is important to have our outline close at hand so we can remind ourselves of what we need these final paragraphs to do.
Example
Paragraph 6 (Third Storey): Explain what Justice means by “a level-playing field” (para. 6) and how it links to “the same original roots of collective language construction that unites every modern person to their human counterparts around the globe.”
Paragraph 7 (Third Storey): Explain how this level playing field leads to “a call to arms extolling humans to grasp their ethical responsibility not only to each other but to “share” in the present concerns of a globalized population of humans in the entire “Earth’s biosphere.”
Our final sentence in Paragraph 5 facilitates nicely a transition into the claims we want to make in our final body paragraphs about Justice’s identification of language as “a commons” and a “level-playing field:”
Example
Further, Justice asserts that “Here in the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest, fresh water is a common resource,” implying even has he invokes the human naming of a region, that this does not override the deeper human tendency to share resources and foster a space that is mutually beneficial.
Keeping that transition in mind, here are the two paragraphs in which we strengthen and finalize our claim about why Justice was motivated to write his essay. They mark the logical extension from our granular analysis of the text to our claim about the text’s purpose:
Example
Body Paragraph 6:
This mutually beneficial space is a worldwide commons manifested and made accessible by language. Despite the fact that “in outgrowing our original environment we ceased to have a common place and identity” and despite this initial “outgrowing” producing varied groups with diverse languages and varying levels of prosperity, Justice still believes that language, the one commons that is accessible to all, can be the “level-playing field” upon which all groups can interact and share. Like most successful technological innovations, this “new communications app” is intuitive and accessible, addresses a common need, and possesses the ability to perform tasks thought previously to be impossible.
Body Paragraph 7:
Justice’s clever analogy of language as a “new communications app” encourages his readers to consider language in a new way. He want his readers to shirk off the notions of defeatism and division that often accompany discussions of language and recognize it instead as a “free” application that is linked ineluctably with the very “humanity and human origins” we have “in common with everyone else alive today.” Viewed in this way, the many languages across the globe present a challenge, but they do not simply create a frustrated and disconnected “Tower of Babel.” Instead, they represent a gigantic “level-playing field” that spans the entire commons that is the “Earth’s biosphere.”


Finding Cinderella
Now have students access the student chapter Finding Cinderella.
Ask students if they know the story of Cinderella, and tell (or have a student tell) the essentials:
- Cinderella lived with a wicked stepmother and two wicked stepsisters.
- Her Fairy Godmother magically gave her a dress, a carriage, and glass slippers so she could go to the royal ball.
- Cinderella met Prince Charming at the ball but had to leave before midnight.
- She left one of her glass slippers behind.
- Prince Charming went to every house looking for whoever’s feet fit the shoe, and eventually found Cinderella.
Tell students to imagine t hat instead of going house-to-house, Prince Charming now can use targeted advertising to target Cinderella with an ad for glass slippers. How would he do that?
Have them complete the interactive activity and consider:
What does he already know about his “target audience,” Cinderella?
- Her apparent gender
- Her approximate age
- Her general location
- Her shoe size
What information might he have about her that is inaccurate?
Prompting questions:
Why might he have a mistaken idea about her income? (Because of the dress and carriage her Fairy Godmother gave her)
Do you think she has her own phone? How might sharing a phone with her stepsisters or stepmother
What could he learn about her from:
- Her search history?
- Her viewing history on YouTube or Netflix
- Does she watch how-to videos about cleaning? Romance movies about princes?
- Her activity (viewing, posting, commenting, Liking, sharing) on social media such as Instagram, Snapchat or TikTok
- Has she posted anything about the party? About her Fairy Godmother? Complaining about her stepmother or stepsisters? Trying to replace a single shoe?
- Has she Liked any of his photos from the party?
- Her online purchases
- If she’s ever bought shoes online, he could match her shoe size!


Understanding Time Signatures
The standard model for meter in aural skills instruction is the system of time signatures or meter signs.
Time signatures are a culturally-situated system of describing cycles of beats, measures, and divisions for the purpose of notation, though they are often used informally in conversation about music that is not notated. Like other systems of conceptualizing musical time around the world, time signatures embed a series of default assumptions. These include the default assumption that meters will repeat consistently for significant spans of time, and a common association between chord changes and downbeats.
The top number of a time signature communicates how many divisions are within each beat and how many beats are contained in each measure. The table below interprets these numbers as if they were always clear and unambiguous, but that’s not always true. 2 and 4 nearly always have the meaning described here. 3 does most of the time, but occasionally it is interpreted as a single compound beat per measure. 6, 9, and 12 are nearly always interpreted as described, but occasionally indicate 6, 9, or 12 beats. In short, learn the “facts” in this table as a default, but be prepared for a messy world.
| 2 beats per measure (“duple”) | 3 beats per measure (“triple”) | 4 beats per measure (“quadruple”) | |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2 divisions per beat (“simple”) | 2 | 3 | 4 |
| 3 divisions per beat (“compound”) | 6 | 9 | 12 |
One useful way to think of this information: in simple meter, the top number tells us the number of beats in a measure; in compound meter, the top number tells us the number of beat divisions in a measure.
Other numbers, like 5, 7, and 11, are also possible on the top of a time signature. Most of the time, these numbers tell us the number of divisions in a measure. For example, 5 often means a beat of 3 divisions followed by a beat of 2 divisions or vice versa, where all the divisions are the same length and the beats vary in length. However, sometimes these numbers indicate the number of beats in the measure. This is messy; you’ll have to use clues like beaming and tempo to determine whether these numbers refer to beats (usually slower tempos) or divisions (usually medium or fast tempos).
The bottom number of a time signature tells us which note value represents a beat (simple meter) or a beat division (compound meter). This number will always be a power of 2. Because note values can occur at any speed, you can’t technically hear the difference between, say, four-four and four-eight. Nevertheless, in contemporary music-making, there is a default assumption that:
- simple meters usually have 4 on the bottom (most often two-four, three-four, or four-four), meaning the beat is represented by the quarter note, and
- that compound meters usually have 8 on the bottom (most often six-eight, nine-eight, or twelve-eight), meaning the beat division is represented by the eighth note (and the beat by the dotted quarter, since that is the length of three eighth notes).
This assumption, by the way, can sometimes help you interpret those complicated 5s, 7s, and 11s on the tops of time signatures. Most often (but not always), if 4 is on the bottom, the top number tells you the number of beats in a measure. Most often (but not always), if 8 is on the bottom, the top number tells you the number of divisions in a measure.
Still, any power of 2 is technically possible on the bottom of the time signature for any meter type. So when we present rhythmic cells, we’ll do so with different time-signature-bottom-number reference points to promote flexibility.
Activity: Internalize time signature top numbers
Goal: Memorize how time signature top numbers are typically used.
Instructions: Memorize the “Guide to Time Signature Top Numbers” table above. Focus particularly on the “3 divisions per beat (compound)” row, which is usually the most confusing part for most students.
Activity: Propose a time signature for sounding music
Goal: Associate time signature top numbers with your perception of beats, divisions, and measures.
Instructions: Listen to the songs from the playlist below and find the beat, number of beats in a measure, and number of divisions per beat. Once you have determined this information, propose an appropriate time signature top number. You may wish to use the table above for reference.
Remember that while we have culturally-defined defaults for a time signature’s bottom number (4 in simple meter, 8 in compound meter), you can’t technically hear whether the beat is represented by an eighth note, quarter note, or something else, so we won’t worry about complete time signatures here.
Suggest a song for this playlist!


The Life History and Travels of Kah-ge-ga-gah-bowh, 1847
Chapter VIII
The conversion of my mother took place during the summer, on Poutash Island, where the Indians had erected a bark chapel. For two years she lived in the enjoyment of religion. Before this chapel was ready she would call us together in the wigwam, and pray with and for us, several times a day, whether our father was at home or not. I remember well, at this moment, the language of her prayers.
 During these three, months, she enjoyed much religion; there was not a day, in which she did not speak of Jesus and his promises with the greatest confidence and delight.
When she grew worse, she called for the class leaders to pray with her. She said to her mother, whom she supposed would die first, because her hair was white, “you will still live, but I am going to die, and will see Jesus first; soon, however, you will follow me.”
The spirit of my dear mother took its flight on the 27th day of February, 1830. Just before her death, she prayed with her children; and advised us to be good Christains, to love Jesus, and meet her in heaven. She then sang her favorite hymn,
“Jesus ish pe ming kah e zhod.”
“Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone.”
This was the first hymn she had ever heard or learned; and it is on this account that I introduce and sing this sweet hymn whenever I lecture “ On the origin, history, traditions, migration, and customs, of the Ojebwa nation.” We all knelt again by her bed side, and while clapping her hands, and endeavoring to shout for joy, she swooned away in death. The last words, which she feebly uttered, were, “Jesus, Jesus.” Her spirit then fled, her lips were cold, and those warm hands that had so often and so faithfully administered comfort and relief, were now stiff. I looked around the wigwam; my father, sister, and brother sat near me, wringing their hands; they were filled with bitter grief, and appeared inconsolable. I then began to understand and appreciate fully her kindness and love. Who, who can, or will, take the place of a mother? Who will pray for us when we are sick or in distress? Her body was consigned to the grave without any parade. No church bell was tolled; but the whistling wind sounded through the woods. I have often knelt down, at the head of her grave, and wished that the time would soon arrive when it might please God to relieve me from my troubles and cares, and conduct me to the abode of my beloved parent. My sister Sarah, too, who has since died, is doubtless with my mother. O how glorious the thought, that both are now in heaven! There is one spot where none will sigh for home. The flowers that blossom there, will never fade; the crystal waters that wind along those verdant vales, will never cease to send up their heavenly music; the clusters hanging from the trees overshadowing its banks, will be immortal clusters; and the friends that meet, will meet for ever.
Little then did I think that I should have to pass through so many afflictions, and so many hardships.  But the thought that thou art happy and blessed, is truly sweet and encouraging! It is this fact, and my own hopes of future bliss, that buoys me up, and sustains me in the hours of conflict and despondency. Although many years have elapsed, since her death, still, I often weep with mingled joy and grief when I think of my dear mother.  The gospel is the only remedy for the miseries and sins of the world.
My mother and sister’s cases are not the only ones that I could relate concerning the happy lives and deaths of those once degraded and benighted Indians. Many have already reached heaven; and many more are now rejoicing on their road thither. Who will now say that the poor Indians cannot be converted? The least that Christians could have done, was to send the gospel among them, after having dispossessed them of their lands; thus preparing them for usefulness here, and happiness hereafter. Let no one say that I am ungrateful in speaking thus. It was the duty of Christians to send us missionaries; and it is now their duty to send more of them. There are still 25,000 of my poor brethren in darkness, and without the gospel. Let the prayers of all the churches ascend to the Most High, in their behalf, that He who has power to deliver, may save the poor Indian from misery, ignorance and perdition.


4.4 The Student Experience: When You Represent a Vulnerable Population
Human Services textbooks often focus on the diversity represented by clients but neglect the fact that students themselves represent a diversity of experiences and outlooks. This chapter has looked at providing culturally appropriate services to clients, but what about when you as the student also represent a vulnerable population? As an intern, you may be subjected to the biases and assumptions from colleagues and/or administrators at your agency. You may be the only person of color at the agency, or represent a religious minority. It may be that you are one of few male employees at an agency, or it may simply be that you are younger than any of your colleagues.
Avoiding Tokenism
Jameela was excited to secure an internship with an agency that helped immigrants get housed, connect with social services, and complete necessary immigration paperwork. The agency had just begun a program to assist Afghan refugees and had asked Jameela to help. Jameela had been born in the US but was of Afghan heritage. She was excited to learn more and to contribute.
During planning meetings, other agency workers began to ask Jameela for her opinions on the program. At first, Jameela was honored to be included, but she quickly realized that her colleagues (mostly White) were treating her like an expert on Afghan culture. She was asked what types of foods they should provide, and what rituals they should observe with the clients. She was asked about Afghan customs, and for information on the Islamic faith. Jameela identified as American and Christian, and she was disappointed that her coworkers had made assumptions about her identity.
Jameela’s experience reflects a concept called tokenism, where a single individual is seen as representing an entire group. The term tokenism has been in discussion since the 1950s. Martin Luther King Jr. described the minimal efforts at integration as relying on tokenism as an adequate response to real attempts at integration. Malcolm X described the same view:
“Tokenism is hypocrisy. One little student in the University of Mississippi, that’s hypocrisy. A handful of students in Little Rock, Arkansas, is hypocrisy. A couple of students going to school in Georgia is hypocrisy. Integration in America is hypocrisy in the rawest form. And the whole world can see it.  Why the whole world can see that this is nothing but hypocrisy.” (X, 1963)
Harvard Business School professor Rosabeth Moss Kanter’s 1977 book Men and Women of the Corporation explored gender tokenism in the workplace. She stated that representatives of token groups had more visibility and thus pressure to perform. They also experienced discrimination based on stereotypes and assumptions about the group to which they were ascribed.
It can be especially challenging and demoralizing to have this experience as an intern. You may feel particularly powerless to address tokenism, but be aware that this is a well-known and addressable issue. There are several strategies you can try. First, it is important to understand that it may be that you are being seen, intentionally, as representing your group, or it could be that the organization is just beginning to develop a more diverse and inclusive workforce and has not laid all the groundwork for this yet. The experience can be upsetting, but your goal should be increased understanding rather than defensiveness. In a 2018 panel discussion on tokenism at Vanderbilt University, Professor Melissa Thoma-Hunt stated “For those of us who are new to particular spaces, we need to avail ourselves of every opportunity to build relationships. Sometimes it is going to be because of tokenism, but it’s what you bring to it (that matters)…so step into it.”
One method is to ask your colleagues why they are assuming you know more than they do about a particular group. This may help them identify the implicit bias that is influencing their view. You can also be more open about your own background and experiences if you are comfortable sharing those things. You can ask for support and assistance from your supervisor, focusing on how to address and solve the problem. Your classmates and field instructor can be important sources of help and support as well. In the same 2018 panel, Consuela Knox, also from Vanderbilt University, pointed out that “[when] you don’t have that diversity group or that support that you might need in the job, be sure that you’re getting it outside the job. It’s important to join these other organizations that are going to empower you outside of your job so you can show up and perform like you should when you’re in the workplace.”
The Student Experience Licenses and Attributions
“The Student Experience” written by Yvonne M. Smith LCSW is licensed under CC BY 4.0.
the practice or quality of including or involving people from a range of different social and ethnic backgrounds and of different genders, sexual orientations, etc. that may or may not intersect with each other.
A credit class in which students apply theory to practice by using what you have learned in coursework in a real-world setting with a supervisor/mentor who is invested in your growth and development (often also referred to as fieldwork or practicum).
the shared beliefs, customs and rituals of a group of people
the symbolic involvement of a person in an organization due only to a specified or salient characteristic (e.g., gender, race/ethnicity, disability, age). It refers to a policy or practice of treating members of a minority, underrepresented, or disadvantaged group differently, often assuming the individual is an expert about their particular identity group.
attitudes or stereotypes that affect our understanding, decisions, and actions in an unconscious manner.


John Keane, University of Sydney
This article is part of the Revolutions and Counter Revolutions series, curated by Democracy Futuresas a joint global initiative between the Sydney Democracy Network and The Conversation. The project aims to stimulate fresh thinking about the many challenges facing democracies in the 21st century.
It is also part of an ongoing series from the Post-Truth Initiative, a Strategic Research Excellence Initiative at the University of Sydney.
This essay is much longer than most Conversation articles, so will take some time to read. Enjoy!
We live in an unfinished revolutionary age of communicative abundance. Networked digital machines and information flows are slowly but surely shaping practically every institution in which we live our daily lives.
For the first time in history, thanks to built-in cheap microprocessors, these algorithmic devices and information systems integrate texts, sounds and images in compact, easily storable, reproducible and portable digital form.
Communicative abundance enables messages to be sent and received through multiple user points, in chosen time, real or delayed, within global networks that are affordable and accessible to billions of people.
My book Democracy and Media Decadence probed the contours of this revolution. It showed why new information platforms, robust muckraking and cross-border publics are among the exciting social and political trends of our time. It proposed that the unfinished revolution is dogged by politically threatening contradictions and decadent counter-trends. The drift toward a world of “post-truth” politics is among these troubling trends.
What exactly is meant by the term post-truth? Paradoxically, post-truth is among the most-talked-about yet least-well-defined meme words of our time. Most observers in the English-speaking world cite the 2016 Word of the Year Oxford English Dictionaries entry: post-truth is the public burial of “objective facts” by an avalanche of media “appeals to emotion and personal belief”.
In China and in the Spanish-speaking world, respectively, commonplace talk of hòu zhēnxiāng and posverdad pushes in this direction. The popularity of the German postfaktisch (post-factual) usage captures much the same meaning. Selected as word of the year by the German language society Gesellschaft für deutsche Sprache (GfdS), it refers to the growing tendency of “political and social discussions” to be dominated by “emotions instead of facts”.
 Not the claim to truth, but the expression of the ‘felt truth’ leads to success in the ‘post-factual age’.
Post-truth communication
A catchword that has gone viral so quickly surely deserves careful attention and crisper definition, especially if we are not to be thrown off balance by a global phenomenon that sets out to do precisely that.
We can say that “post-truth” is not simply the opposite of truth, however that is defined; it is more complicated. It is better described as an omnibus term, a word for communication comprising a salmagundi or assemblage of different but interconnected phenomena.
Its troubling potency in public life flows from its hybrid qualities, its combination of different elements in ways that defy expectations and confuse its recipients.
Post-truth has recombinant qualities. For a start, it is a type of communication that includes old-fashioned lying, where speakers say things about themselves and their world that are at odds with impressions and convictions that they harbour in their mind’s eye.
Liars attempt alchemy: when someone tells lies they wilfully say things they “know” not to be true, for effect. An example is when Donald Trump claims there was never a drought in California, or that during his inauguration the weather cleared, when actually light rain fell throughout his address.
Post-truth also includes forms of public discourse commonly called bullshit. It comprises communication that displaces and nullifies concerns about veracity. Bullshit is hot air talk, verbal excrement that lacks nutrient. It is shooting off at the mouth, backed by the presumption that it is acceptable to others in the conversation.
Post-truth depends as well on buffoonery, bits and pieces of colourful communication designed to attract and distract public attention and to interrupt the background noise of conventional politics and public life. The bric-a-brac component of post-truth includes nonsense moments, jokes and boasting. It embraces clever quips, pedantry and wilful exaggerations (like Marine Le Pen’s description of the European Union as “a huge prison”).
There is plenty of rough speech. The contrast with the honey words and smiles of Bill Clinton, Felipe González, Tony Blair and other politicians from yesteryear is striking. The grotesquerie comes in abundance. Geert Wilders specialises in causing trouble, as when he dubs mosques “palaces of hatred”.
Disturbingly, there’s abundant talk of the importance of “truth”, by which is usually meant utterances whose veracity is self-confirming, thus proving that truth can attract rogues. There is dog-whistling. There is plain bad taste, as when a newly elected president enters the Houston Astrodome, crammed with traumatised homeless people who have narrowly survived a hurricane, and says: “Thanks for coming.”
Hair-splitting and wilfully setting things aside are common. The Israeli consul-general in New York, Dani Dayan, does this well, but the genius of evasion is surely Zoltán Kovács, the Orbán government’s spokesman. When subjected to forensic questioning by reporters about Hungary’s imprisonment and brutal maltreatment of refugees and operations by vigilante citizens’ “hunter patrol” border forces, he likes to say:
What you are trying to portray here is non-existent, a gross simplification. Next question.
And that’s that.
Engineered silence
The silencing is not incidental. Post-truth performances feed on their production of silence. They remind us, in the words of Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset, that:
… the stupendous reality that is language cannot be understood unless we begin by observing that speech consists above all in silences.
The proponents of post-truth communication relish things unsaid. Their bluff and bluster is designed not only to attract public attention.
It simultaneously hides from public attention things (such as growing inequalities of wealth, the militarisation of democracy and the accelerating death of non-human species) that it doesn’t want others to notice, or that potentially arouse suspicions of the style and substance of post-truth politics.
This engendered silence is not just the aftermath or “leftover” of post-truth communication. Every moment of post-truth communication using words backed by signs and text is actively shaped by what is unsaid, or what is not sayable.
The communicative performances of the post-truth champions are thus the marginalia of silence: mere foam and waves on its deep waters.
That is why the current hyper-concentration of journalists and other public commentators on “breaking news” stories about “fake news”, “alternative facts” and missing “evidence” is so potentially misleading.
Their fetish of breaking news turns them unwittingly into the poodles of post-truth and its silence about things less immediate and less obvious, deeper institutional trends, “slower” events marked by punctuated rhythms.
Vaudeville and gaslighting
Treating post-truth as a species of pugnacious politics dressed in a coat of many colours, as a bricolage of lies, bullshit, buffoonery and silence, helps us grasp its vaudeville quality.
When thought of as a public performance led by a cast of politicians, journalists, public relations agencies, think tanks and other players, post-truth is an updated, state-of-the-art political equivalent of early 20th-century vaudeville performances.
Old-fashioned vaudeville featured strongmen and singers, dancers and drummers, minstrels and magicians, acrobats and athletes, comedians and circus animals. It was a show. Post-truth is equally a show. Directed against conventional styles of performance, it is an orchestrated public spectacle designed to invite and entertain millions of people.
But post-truth is much more than entertainment, or the “art of contrivance” or the “dictatorship of illusion” mediated by the production and passive consumption of commodities.
While the genealogy of post-truth is partly traceable to the world of corporate advertising and market-driven entertainment, it has thoroughly political qualities. In the hands of the powerful, or those bent on climbing the ladders of power over others, the post-truth phenomenon functions as a new weapon of political manipulation.
Post-truth is not only about winning votes, siding with friends, or dealing with political foes. It has more sinister effects. It is a gaslighting exercise.
Drawn from George Cukor’s award-winning Gaslight, starring Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer, the term gaslighting is here defined as a weapon of the will to power. It is the organised effort by public figures to mess with citizens’ identities, to deploy lies, bullshit, buffoonery and silence for the purpose of sowing seeds of doubt and confusion among subjects.
Gaslighting is typically a preferred tactic of narcissistic and aggressive personalities bent on doing whatever it takes to gain and maintain a position of advantage over others.
Their point is to disorient and destabilise people. They want to harness people’s self-doubts, ruin their capacity for seeing the world ironically, destroy their capacity for making judgements, in order to drive them durably into submission.
When (for instance) gaslighters say something, only later to say that they never said such a thing and that they would never have never dreamed of saying such a thing, their aim is gradually to turn citizens into mere playthings of power.
When that happens, the victims of gaslighting no longer trust their own judgements. They buy into the tactics of the manipulator. Not knowing what to believe, they give up, shrug their shoulders and fall by default under the spell of the gaslighter.
Consider the double act of Philippines President Rodrigo Duterte and his former right-hand gaslighter, Ernesto Abella, in the sequence of events triggered by the murder (in November 2016) of Rolando Espinosa, the elected mayor of Albuera, an island community some 575 kilometres from Manila.
When asked by journalists to explain what had happened, Duterte reportedly said:
He was killed in a very [questionable way], but I don’t care. The policemen said he resisted arrest. Then I will stick with the story of the police because [they are] under me.
Espinosa was in fact shot in detention, inside a police cell.
Duterte continued:
I might go down in history as the butcher. It’s up to you.
And then:
Since I have nothing to show, I just use extrajudicial killing. [That’s because] I have no credentials to boast about.
The intended meaning of these utterances (to put things mildly) was oracular, so mystifyingly opaque that they served as the cue for Abella to strut his stuff: to go on air and to say that this or that never happened, that Duterte never said what people heard him say, that Bisaya-speaking Duterte got lost in translation when speaking in Tagalog, to affirm at Malacañang press conferences that his intentions are good and that he is utterly sincere, whereas his enemies are wilful dissemblers, fools and toads.
Abella insisted he provided not “crumbs”, but “meat, deboned”. Armed with his favourite phrases, “let’s just say” and “let’s put it this way”, he described his job as “completing the sentences” of his leader, to “impart his true intentions”.
In this murder case, Abella said, “it is … a matter of the leadership style and the messaging style of the president”. He added:
This is his messaging style to underline his intention. He is serious about it [the drug menace]. However, it’s just meant to underline his seriousness in making sure that nobody is corrupt and involved in criminality.
What makes post-truth different from the past?
The meandering rhetoric is designed to bewitch and beguile, which is why the critics of post-truth are sounding alarms and issuing stern warnings about the dangerous charms of the vaudeville show of political mendacity, nonsense, buffoonery and silence.
They emphasise that political lying and bad manners spiced with talk of “fake news” and “alternative facts” are sinister, a frontal challenge to the basic democratic norms of open and plural communication among citizens.
Complaints against post-truth are often robust, loud and couched in high moral tones. Post-truth is said to be the beginning of the end of politics as we’ve known it in existing democracies.
There is talk of an emergent “post-truth era”. More than a few critics warn that the spread of post-truth is the harbinger of a new “totalitarianism”. Others speak of populist dictatorship or “fascism-lite” government.
The descriptors are questionable, and display little understanding of the historical originality of the present drift towards government by gaslighting. Politics as the art of evasion, befuddlement and engineered public silence isn’t new. Lying in politics is an ancient art. Think of Plato’s noble lie, or Machiavelli’s recommendation that a successful prince must be “a great pretender and dissembler”, or Harry Truman’s description of Richard Nixon as:
… a no good, lying bastard. He can lie out of both sides of his mouth at the same time, and if he ever caught himself telling the truth, he’d lie just to keep his hand in.
Some things don’t change. Still, there are several things that are unusual about the gaslighting trends of our time. Each is bound up with the unfinished communications revolution.
The digital merging and melding of text, sound and image, the advent of cheap copying and the growing ease of networked information spreading across vast distances in real time are powerful drivers of post-truth decadence.
New techniques and tools of communication are its condition of possibility; they enable its production, rapid circulation and absorption into the body politics of democracies, and well beyond.
Think of photoshopped materials and mashups, web applications and pages that recycle content from more than one source to create a single new service displayed in a single graphical interface. Trump’s first campaign advertisement showed migrants allegedly crossing the Mexican border; in fact, it was an image of migrants crossing from Morocco to Melilla in North Africa.
Then consider impostor news sites (using URLs such as abc.com.co) and fantasy news sites, such as WTOE 5 News, which created the “Pope Francis Shocks World, Endorses Trump for President” story, built using such tools as Clone Zone and NowThis.
Ponder shareable made-up news platforms (Macedonian teenagers making money, Christian fundamentalists peddling the Spirit), meme launch pads (Twitter and Facebook) and parody accounts (The Onion, “America’s Finest News Source”).
There are also the devoted fanzine platforms that specialise in hailing heroes and trolling opponents, the platforms that sit for the first time in the White House press briefing room, platforms such as Gateway Pundit, One American News Network, Newsmax, LifeZette and the Daily Caller.
Some say none of this is new. From the outset, they insist, daily newspapers printed gossip, rumours and lies. Orson Welles proved that radio could produce scams. Television was a state weapon for mass-producing fabricated illusions; and so on.
But the sceptics underestimate the multiple ways in which, in matters of truth and post-truth, the communications revolution is marked by novel dynamics that are producing novel effects.
Most obviously, the digital communications revolution tends to undermine space-time barriers so that the raw material of lies, bullshit, buffoonery and silence produced by gaslighters develops long global legs.
Post-truth spreads; it knows no borders. So, for instance, many Muslims living in countries as far apart as Britain, Pakistan and Indonesia understand that they are among the targets of the project of attacking “fake news” and making America great again.
There’s something else that’s new: post-truth discourse penetrates so deeply into our daily lives that what is commonly called the private sphere ceases to be private. It’s no longer a safe haven or a zone of counter-balance, in the way (say) it functioned as the point of resistance against total power in the age of the typewriter or in George Orwell’s 1984, where Winston was still able to retreat to a corner table to scribble, out of sight of Big Brother.
The colonisation of daily life by the so-called Internet of Things, digital robots that collect and spread information, guarantees that the geographic footprint of post-truth is vast and potentially total.
There’s yet another novelty of our period: the production and diffusion of post-truth communication by populist leaders, political parties and governments. The historical record shows that our times are no exception to the old rule that populism is a recurrent autoimmune disease of democracy.
The present-day political irruption of populism is fuelled by the institutional decay of electoral democracy, combined with growing public dissatisfaction with politicians, political parties and “politics”.
Reinforced by the failure of democratic institutions to respond effectively to anti-democratic challenges such as the growing influence of cross-border corporate power, worsening social inequality and the dark money poisoning of elections, the decadence is proving to be a lavish gift to leaders, parties and governments peddling the mantra of “the sovereign people”.
Populist figures otherwise as different as Viktor Orbán, Norbert Hofer and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan are oversized vaudeville characters. They are merchants of post-truth, exploiters of trust and confidence artists who take advantage of the communications revolution.
They stir up multimedia excitement by calling for a public revolt by millions of people who feel annoyed, powerless and no longer “held” (D.W. Winnicott) in the arms of society: people who are so frustrated or humiliated that they are willing to lash out in support of demagogues promising them dignity and a better future.
Some people fall for the promises not because they “naturally” crave leaders, or yield to the inherited “fascism in us all”. Among the strangest and most puzzling features of the post-truth phenomenon is the way it attracts people into voluntary servitude because it raises their hopes and expectations of betterment.
Truth is the answer? Don’t believe it
The most surprising long-term effect of communicative abundance and the spread of post-truth is arguably their reinforcement of the modern questioning and rejection of arrogant beliefs in truth.
The possibility that post-truth politics is party to the “farewell to truth” is poorly understood, especially by critics of post-truth, who invariably rally to the cause of what they casually call truth.
Although the term is usually left undefined, their attachment to truth helps explain why many academics, journalists and public commentators typically accuse the “postmodernism” of recent decades of being the unwitting accomplice or active foot servant of post-truth politics.
They are convinced that the “relativism” of the postmodernists unhelpfully adds to the confusion surrounding “truth” based on “evidence” and “facts”. What is now urgently needed, they say, is the recovery of truth.
But what is truth? Truth is the antidote to post-truth, they reply. It is observable. Truth is saying or writing or visualising, somehow depicting things that correspond to “reality”.
The champions of truth understood as adequation sometimes cite the Polish-American mathematician Alfred Tarski, who famously put things this way: the proposition that “snow is white” (“p”) is true if and only if snow is white (“p is true if and only if p”). It’s seeing language as a conveyor belt, as a medium for recording a “reality” that is external to the observer.
Tough versions of the orthodoxy insist that evidence is evidence, reality is real and “brute facts” exist independently of anyone’s attitude toward them.
It’s not only philosophers who speak in this fashion. Journalists, lawyers, more than a few academics, plenty of environmental activists and data scientists are in the truth trade.
Believers in truth, a word that is usually left undefined, they have a habit of supposing that reality is all around them, out there, within arm’s reach or just beyond arm’s length, graspable and catchable through redescription, for instance in the form of data.
Such conceptions of “objectivity” fail to rethink the whole idea of truth as a necessary condition of ridding the world of post-truth decadence. Their failure to cast doubt simultaneously upon both post-truth and truth, to see them as partners rather than as opponents, ignores the need for a new geography and history of truth.
Truth varies through space and time
The geography of truth highlights the spatial dimensions of truth-seeking and attempts to live the truth. What counts as truth varies from place to place.
The French Renaissance writer Montaigne famously said that what is truth on one side of the Pyrenees is falsehood on the other side. Foucault repeats the point in his account of the birth of truth-telling (le dire vrai) within clinics and prisons.
Scholarly studies of the way cities (Escuela de Salamanca, Chicago School of Economics, Copenhagen School) have shaped what counts as knowledge push in the same direction.
The geography of truth equally matters within any given society, at any given time. The Pitjantjatjara peoples of central Australia still today use a family of terms like mula and mula-mulani and mulapa to refer to a “true story” that is inscribed with both connotations of “a long time” and calls for agreement between story tellers and listeners.
When Pitjantjatjara peoples speak of truth, they understand they are engaged in efforts to convince others of the rightness of their tradition. They recognise what mainstream white society usually forgets: that truth and trust are twins.
A new geography of truth would also note that there are spaces of life that either have little or nothing to do with truth, or where references to truth are simply out of place (Bertolt Brecht once remarked that if someone stood up in front of a group of strikers and said 2+2=4 they would no doubt be jeered), or where telling the truth has dangerous consequences, as when a Rohingya father lies to a Myanmar army patrol hunting women to rape by telling them on his doorstep he has no daughters.
What counts as truth varies not only through space but also through time. Truth has a controversial history; truth has never straightforwardly been truth. There is a history of truth that shows that what counts as truth varies through time, but also (the corollary) that what is today taken as truth has not always been so.
Ancient Greek understandings of truth as aletheia, a difficult word variously translated as “disclosure” or “un-concealedness”, are evidently different than Christian understandings of “the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6) and the imperative to tell the truth, shame the devil.
The early modern European period was marked by bitter struggles over the meaning of religious “truth”, calls for religious toleration and the deployment, by believers in truth, of such tactics of deception as occultism, the Catholic doctrine of mental reservation and Protestant casuistry.
The public controversies about truth among Christians encompassed Luther’s explosive, influential attack on popery as the sole interpreter of scripture in An Open Letter to the Christian Nobility of the German Nation Concerning the Reform of the Christian Estate (1520). They extended to Lessing’s recommendation that we should thank God that we don’t know the truth (“Sage jeder, was ihm Wahrheit dünkt, und die Wahrheit selbst sei Gott empfohlen” [“Let each person say what s/he deems truth, and let truth itself be commended unto God”]); and Tocqueville’s observation that the modern democratic revolution powerfully calls into question so-called public truths about the “natural” inferiority of slaves and women.
Democracy doubts both post-truth and ‘the truth’
The public sense that truth claims are contestable and mutable interpretations is undoubtedly bolstered by the multi-media communications revolution, and by the advent of new forms of monitory democracy featuring a plethora of mediated platforms where power is publicly interrogated and chastened.
Monitory democracy promotes the growth of public spaces where uncertainty, doubt, scepticism, irony and modesty in the face of arbitrary power are nurtured.
Wittgenstein’s recommendation that saying “I know” should be banned so that people would be required to say “I believe I know” makes good sense under these conditions. We could say that post-truth politics is the dark and messy side of an unfinished quantum shift in support of the pluralisation of people’s lived perceptions of the world.
Yes, talk of truth is not disappearing, or dead. Just as unbelievers continue to say “Lord help us” and “Jesus Christ”, and despite Copernicus people still speak of the setting sun, so the language of truth lives on in people’s lives.
Yet nowadays tropes like “We hold these truths to be self-evident” arouse public suspicions. The truth is out that truth has many faces.
What counts as “truthful information” is less and less understood by wise citizens as “hard facts” or as indisputable “evidence” or as chunks of “reality” to be mined from television and radio programs, or from newspapers, digital platforms and “expert” authorities.
In the age of communicative abundance and monitory democracy, “reality” is multiple and mutable. “Reality”, including the lies and buffoonery and other forms of gaslighting peddled by the powerful, comes to be understood as always “reported reality”, as “reality” produced by some for others – in other words, as messages that are shaped and reshaped and reshaped again in the process of transmission and reception.
This disenchantment of truth has everything to do with democracy. Considered as a universal norm liberated from metaphysical foundations, as a whole way of life committed to the defence of complex equality, freedom and difference, democracy in monitory form is the guardian of a plurality of lived interpretations of life.
The radical originality of monitory democracy is its defiant insistence that peoples’ lives are never simply given, that all things human are built on the shifting sands of space-time, and that no person or group, no matter how much “truth” or power they presently enjoy or want to claim, can be trusted permanently, in any given context, to govern other people’s lives.
Democracy is thus the best human weapon so far invented for guarding against the “illusions of certainty” and breaking up truth-camouflaged monopolies of power, wherever they operate. Democracy is not a True and Right norm. Just the reverse: the norm of monitory democracy is aware of its own and others’ limits, knows that it doesn’t know everything, and understands that democracy has no meta-historical guarantees. That is why it does not suffer truth-telling dogmatists and fools gladly.
Democracy is a living reminder that truths are never self-evident, and that what counts as truth is a matter of interpretation. Recognising that in political life “truth has a despotic character”, democracy stands for a world beyond truth and post-truth.
This is not because all women and men are “naturally” created equal.
You can read other articles in the series here.
The theme of truth, post-truth and the unfinished communications revolution is further explored in a recently published thepaper.cn interview, The Revival of Truth Isn’t the Remedy for Post-Truth (available only in Chinese).
John Keane, Professor of Politics, University of Sydney
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.


232 Whistler, Nocturne in Black and Gold
A Personal Interpretation
One might say that for some artworks, seeing beyond the artist’s intention to form a more indefinite, personal interpretation is, ironically, the creator’s ultimate objective after all. Much like Alice stepping tentatively through the two-dimensional plane of the looking glass into the possibilities beyond, the viewer is invited to deduce his own meaning, to form his own associations, thus essentially taking part in the creative process itself. While ambiguity is standard in the conceptual contemporary pieces of today, what mattered most in early American art was what could be read on the surface: narrative clarity, illusionistic detail, realism, and straightforward moral instruction. When did things change? Perhaps, it seems, around the time avant-garde artists began to pursue abstraction, flirt with modernism, and challenge the aesthetic standards of the past.
Consider Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket of 1875. In the mass of shadowy dark hues, vague wandering figures, and splashes of brilliant color, museum-goers might construe myriad meanings from the same scene: perhaps sparks from a blazing campfire, flickering Japanese lanterns, or visions of far-off galaxies mystically appearing on a clear summer night. Indeed, while the Massachusetts-born artist James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834-1903) was inspired by a specific event (a fireworks display over London’s Cremorne Gardens) the intangibility, both in appearance and theme, of the oil on panel was deliberate. The questions it conjures, the emotions it evokes, may differ from one viewer to another, and frankly, that’s the point.
“Flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face”
The Falling Rocket resonates with many 21st-century beholders, yet when it was first exhibited at a London gallery in 1877, detractors deemed the paintin too slapdash, incomprehensible, even insulting. Art critic John Ruskin dismissed Whistler’s effort as “flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face,” as in his opinion it contained no social value. In response, Whistler—cheeky man that he was—sued Ruskin for libel, and though he won the case in court, he was awarded only a farthing in damages. During the highly publicized trial, the artist defended his series of atmospheric “noctures” as artistic arrangements whose worth lay not in any imitative aspects but in their basis in transcendent ideals of harmony and beauty.
Music
Whistler saw his paintings as musical compositions illustrated visually, and delineated this idea is his famed “Ten O’Clock” lecture of 1885:
Nature contains the elements, in colour and form, of all pictures, as the keyboard contains the notes of all music. But the artist is born to pick and choose . . . that the result may be beautiful—as the musician gathers his notes, and forms his chords, until he brings forth from chaos glorious harmony.
Many of his titles incorporate allusions to music: “nocturnes,” “symphonies,” “arrangements,” and “harmonies.” The immaterial, the spiritual—these principles are subtly interwoven throughout Whistler’s oeuvre, and he preached his ideas on the new religion of art throughout his career.


Chapter 18 Geology of the Oceans
18.1 The Topography of the Sea Floor
We examined the topography of the sea floor from the perspective of plate tectonics in Chapter 10, but here we are going to take another look at bathymetry from an oceanographic perspective. The topography of the northern Atlantic Ocean is shown in Figure 18.1.1. The important features are the extensive continental shelves less than 250 metres deep (pink); the vast deep ocean plains between 4,000 and 6,000 metres deep (light and dark blue); the mid-Atlantic ridge, in many areas shallower than 3,000 metres; and the deep ocean trench north of Puerto Rico (8,600 metres).
A topographic profile of the Pacific Ocean floor between Japan and British Columbia is shown in Figure 18.1.2. Be very careful when interpreting this diagram (and others like it), because in order to show the various features clearly the vertical axis is exaggerated, in this case by about 200 times. The floor of the Pacific, like those of the other oceans, is actually very flat, even in areas with seamounts or deep trenches. The vast sediment-covered abyssal plains of the oceans are much flatter than any similar-sized areas on the continents.
The main features of the Pacific Ocean floor are the continental slopes, which drop from about 200 metres to several thousand metres over a distance of a few hundred kilometres, the abyssal plains—exceedingly flat and from 4,000 metres to 6,000 metres deep, volcanic seamounts and islands, and trenches at subduction zones that are up to 11,000 metres deep.
The ocean floor is almost entirely underlain by mafic oceanic crust (mostly basalt and gabbro, as described in more detail below), while the continental slopes are underlain by felsic continental crust (mostly granitic and sedimentary rocks). And, as you’ll remember from Chapter 10, the heavier oceanic crust floats lower on the mantle than continental crust does, and that’s why oceans are oceans.
The continental shelf and slope offshore from Nova Scotia is shown in Figure 18.1.3. In this passive-margin area (no subduction zone), the shelf is over 150 kilometres wide. On the Pacific coast of Canada, the shelf is less than half as wide. Continental shelves are typically less than 200 metres in depth; 200 metres is also the limit of the photic zone, the maximum depth to which sufficient light penetrates to allow photosynthesis to take place. As a result of that photosynthesis, the photic zone is oxygenated, and therefore suitable for animal life. Approximately 90% of marine life is restricted to the photic zone. The photic zone is also known as the epipelagic zone. The mesopelagic zone extends from 200 metres to 1,000 metres, the bathypelagic zone from 1,000 metres to 4,000 metres, and abyssalpelagic zone is deeper than 4,000 metres. (Pelagic refers to the open ocean, and thus excludes areas that are near to the shores or the ocean floor.)
Although the temperature of the ocean surface varies widely—from a few degrees either side of freezing in polar regions to over 25°C in the tropics—in most parts of the ocean, the water temperature is around 10°C at 1,000 metres depth and about 4°C from 2,000 metres depth all the way to the bottom.
The deepest parts of the ocean are within the subduction trenches, and the deepest of these is the Marianas Trench in the southwestern Pacific (near Guam) at 11,000 metres (Figure 18.1.4). There are other trenches in the southwestern Pacific that are over 10,000 metres deep; the Japan Trench is over 9,000 metres deep; and the Puerto Rico and Chile-Peru Trenches are over 8,000 metres deep. Trenches that are relatively shallow tend to be that way because they have significant sediment infill. There is no recognizable trench along the subduction zone of the Juan de Fuca Plate because it has been filled with sediments from the Fraser and Columbia Rivers (or their ancient equivalents).
Exercise 18.1 Visualizing sea floor topography
This map shows a part of the sea floor.
- Identify the following features.
- a continental shelf
- a continental slope
- a spreading ridge
- a subduction zone with a deep trench
- an abyssal plain
- some isolated seamounts
- Where is this? (North is up.)
Image Descriptions
Figure 18.1.1 image description: Along the coast, the Atlantic Ocean is less than 2,000 metres deep. The depth increases farther from shore. In the middle, the Atlantic Ocean can be anywhere from 4000 to over 6,000 metres deep. A ridge stretches across the centre of the Atlantic Ocean in a northeast direction. The ridge causes the ocean depth to decreases to less than 2,000 metres. [Return to Figure 18.1.1]
Figure 18.1.3 image description: The continental shelf stretches out about 150 kilometres from the shore and the depth does not increase more than 300 metres. Once the continental slope begins, the depth continues to drop until it reaches 4500 metres at 300 kilometres from the shore. [Return to Figure 18.1.3]
Media Attributions
- Figure 18.1.1: “Seafloor Topography: Topo 8” by NASA/CNES. Public domain.
- Figures 18.1.2, 18.1.3, 18.1.4: © Steven Earle. CC BY.
- Figure 18.1.5: “Seafloor Topography: Topo 16” by NASA/CNES. Public domain.
the shallow (typically less than 200 metres) and flat sub-marine extension of a continent
the extremely flat surface of the deep ocean floor in areas unaffected by plate tectonic processes and volcanism
the flat surface of the deep ocean, typically beyond the limits of the continental slopes
the upper 200 metres of the ocean or a lake, where, depending on the turbidity of the water, light can penetrate
the upper layer of water (0 to 200 metres) in areas of the open ocean
the upper middle zone of the open ocean extending from a 200 to 1000 metre depth
the moderately deep parts of the ocean, between 1000 and 4000 metres
the deeper parts of the ocean, between 4000 and 6000 metres
the part of a lake or the ocean that is not close to shore


College of Social and Behavioral Sciences
108 Integration of Traditional Ecological Knowledge with STEM Curriculum on the Wind River Reservation
Michael Joyfull Komigi; Tabitha Benney; Brett Clark; and Jordan Giese
Faculty Mentor: Tabitha Benney (Political Science, University of Utah)
Data from the U.S. Department of Education in 2019, shows that Native American students had the lowest on-time graduation rate in the United States. In 2023, the Fort Washakie Schools with 97 percent Native American students experienced both lower graduation and attendance rates than the state average (Shippen, 2023; Maloney, 2023). In addition, previous work has indicated that this issue has been exacerbated by lack of material conditions and a lack of appropriate curriculum. To address this issue, our team has begun a study at the Fort Washakie High School to better understand how to improve educational outcomes, especially STEM fields. We hypothesize that the integration of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) concepts with Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK), which includes the use of traditional knowledge and practices that have been passed down over generations in a specific place (Hunn, 1993), may help to create more interest among the student populations there. As Sobel (2005) proposes, pedagogy that is affiliated with local contexts, known as place-based education, can boost students’ academic excellence, foster cultural connection, and empower youth to become agents of change within local communities. To study this hypothesis, we will develop curriculum for the High School at Fort Washakie, which explored varied socio-cultural values of Eastern Shoshone and Northern Arapaho—the two indigenous tribes of the reservation—and incorporated those with STEM education for 10th graders. This curriculum will be vetted by teachers on the reservation and then taught in the classroom there. We will then assess the impact of this curriculum on learning outcomes to better understand its long-term impact. Additionally, future research can track the effectiveness of these lessons and student response to the content in relation to schools on the reservation that have not received the treatment. This can then help refine and develop further content for class in these communities.
Bibliography
Hunn, E. (1993). What is traditional ecological knowledge. Traditional Ecological Knowledge, 15, 13-15.
Maloney, W. (2023). Student Absenteeism and Expulsion Data Request. The Wyoming Department of Education. https://wyoleg.gov/InterimCommittee/2023/STR-2023071307-02SelectCommitteeonTribalRelations7.13.23Final.pdf
Shippen, D. (2023). Fremont County School Districts Enrollment and Performance Data, 2017 To Present. The Wyoming Legislative ServiceOffice. https://wyoleg.gov/InterimCommittee/2023/STR-2023071307-0123RM004FremontCoSchoolDistrictEnrollmentandPerformanceData.pdf
Sobel, D. (2005). Place-based education: Connecting classrooms and communities. Great Barrington, MA: Orion Society.
About the authors
name: Michael Joyfull Komigi
name: Tabitha Benney
institution: University of Utah
name: Brett Clark
name: Jordan Giese


Elements of Argument
8 Toulmin Analysis
(Claims and Data)
by Andrew Gurevich
Stephen Toulmin was a British philosopher, author, and educator. Influenced by Ludwig Wittgenstein, Toulmin devoted his works to the analysis of moral reasoning. Throughout his writings, he sought to develop practical arguments which can be used effectively in evaluating the ethics behind moral issues. His works were later found useful in the field of rhetoric for analyzing arguments and exploring their underlying assumptions.
The Toulmin Model
The Toulmin Model of Argumentation contains six interrelated components used for analyzing arguments:
- Claim: the position or claim being argued; the conclusion of the argument
- Data/Grounds: the reasons or supporting evidence that bolster the claim
- Warrant: the principle, provision, or chain of reasoning that connects the grounds/reason to the claim
- Backing: the support, justification, reasons to back up the warrant
- Rebuttal/Reservation: the exceptions to the claim; description and rebuttal of counterexamples and counterarguments
- Qualification: specification of limits to claim, warrant, and backing. The degree of conditionality asserted
Tips for Analyzing Arguments
- When looking for the claim, ask yourself the question, “What is the main idea of central claim of this argument?”
- When looking for the grounds, ask yourself the question, “What are the reasons given to support the claim?”
- When looking for the warrant, ask yourself the question, “Why does the arguer believe this data proves this claim?”
Attributions
“Toulmin Analysis (Claims and Data)” by Andrew Gurevich is licensed under CC BY 4.0
Feedback/Errata


Topic 5– Use a Trigonometry in Building Layout
Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Surveyor_s18.jpg
Trigonometry can be used to assist in building layout. Many locations can be laid out from a single point with blueprint information, a transit, and a few mathematical equations.
Curves and arcs can also be laid out using trigonometry and a transit or theodolite.
A more common use of a transit is to determine the height of an object.
For more information refer to Instruction Sheet on Brightspace, CNST 204 (p. 61-73):
IS 2.2 Trigonometric Functions for Building Layout
Review Questions
What is the formula used to find the tangent of an angle?
In figure 27, calculate the angle of A:
In figure 28, calculate the length of side “a”.
In figure 29, calculate the length of side “b”
Calculate the angle to be turned and the distances to be taped to lay out the building with the transit set up over point a only.:
Angle 1 is _____ (41°48’)– Angle 3 is _____ (63°26’)
Distance ac is _____ (11402 mm)– Distance ae is _____ (13 640.01 mm)
Angle 2 is _____ (51° 15’)– Angle 4 is _____ (90°)
Distance ad is _____ (9745.25 mm)– Distance af is _____ (12 200 mm)
Figure 31 shows a concrete grade beam with a curve in it. The total angle of the curve is 45°. The radius of the curve is 28 000 mm. Divide the curve into 9 parts and calculate the angles of deflection and the lengths of the chords so the curve can be laid out with a transit.
Size of the first angle of deflection “a” _____ (2°30’)
Length of chord for “a” _____ (2 443 mm)
Size of second angle “b” _____ (5°00’)
Length of chord for “b” _____ (4 881 mm)
Size of third angle “c” _____ (7°30’)
Length of chord for “c” _____ (7 310 mm)
Size of fourth angle “d” _____ (10°)
Length of chord for “d” _____ (9 724 mm)
Size of fifth angle “e” _____ (12°30’)
Length of chord for “e” _____ (12 121 mm)
Size of sixth angle “f” _____ (15°00’)
Length of chord for “f” _____ (14 494 mm)
Size of seventh angle “g” _____ (17°30’)
Length of chord for “g” _____ (16 840 mm)
Size of eight angle “h” _____ (20°00’)
Length of chord for “h” _____ (19 153 mm)
Size of final angle “I” _____ (22°30’)
Length of chord for “I” _____ (21 430 mm)
Calculate the height of the wall in the diagram below: