Inheriting Possibility

How has the dominant social scientific paradigm limited our understanding of the impact of inherited economic resources, social privilege, and sociocultural practices on multigenerational inequality? In what ways might multiple forces of social difference haunt quantitative measurements of ability such as the SAT? Building on new materialist philosophy, Inheriting Possibility rethinks methods of quantification and theories of social reproduction in education, demonstrating that test performance results and parenting practices convey the impact of materially and historically contingent patterns of differential possibility. Ezekiel J. Dixon-Román explores the dualism of nature and culture that has undergirded theories of inheritance, social reproduction, and human learning and development. Research and debate on the reproduction of power relations have rested on a premise that nature is made up of fixed universals on which the creative, intellective, and discursive play of culture are based. Drawing on recent work in the physical and biological sciences, Dixon-Román argues that nature is culture. He contends that by assuming a rigid nature/culture binary, we ultimately limit our understanding of how power relations are reproduced. Through innovative analyses of empirical data and cultural artifacts, Dixon-Román boldly reconsiders how we conceptualize the processes of inheritance and approach social inquiry in order to profoundly sharpen understanding and address the reproducing forces of inequality.

'Inheriting Possibility' is concerned with the ways we have come to understand and produce knowledge about the reproduction of power relations and how those understandings have rested on a premise that nature is made of fixed universals that create the stage for the play of culture.

This book is an exploration of the notion of "drive" as it passes from Kant's need of reason, to Freud's concept of hallucinatory wish fulfillment, to the relentless force of indifferentiation in Flaubert's Bouvard and Pécuchet.

Gerhard Richter examines, in the work of Walter Benjamin, one of the central problems of modernity: the question of how to receive an intellectual inheritance. Covering aspects of Benjamin's complex relationship to the legacies of such writers as Kant, Nietzsche, Kafka, Heidegger, and Derrida, each chapter attends to a key concern in Benjamin's writing, while reflecting on the challenges that this issue presents for the question of inheritability and transmissibility. Both reading Benjamin and watching himself reading Benjamin, Richter participates in the act of inheriting while also inquiring into the conditions of possibility for inheriting Benjamin's corpus today.

In this study, Jonathan S. Milgram demonstrates that the transformation of inheritance law from the biblical to the tannaitic period is best explained against the backdrop of the legal and social contexts in which the tannaitic laws were formulated. Employing text and source critical methods, he argues that, in the absence of the hermeneutic underpinnings for tannaitic innovations, the laws were not the result of the rabbinic imagination and its penchant for inventive interpretation of Scripture. Turning to the rich repositories in biblical, ancient near eastern, Second Temple, Greek, Elephantine, Judean desert, and Roman sources, the author searches for conceptual parallels and antecedents as well as formulae and terminology adopted and adapted by the tannaim. Since the tannaitic traditions reflect the social and economic contexts of the tannaitic period - the nuclear family on privatized landholdings in urban centers - the author also considers the degree to which tannaitic inheritance laws may have emerged out of these contexts.

This gripping story of the doctors at the forefront of Alzheimer’s research and the courageous North Dakota family whose rare genetic code is helping to understand our most feared diseases is “excellent, accessible...A science text that reads like a mystery and treats its subjects with humanity and sympathy” (Library Journal, starred review). Every sixty-nine seconds, someone is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Of the top ten killers, it is the only disease for which there is no cure or treatment. For most people, there is nothing that they can do to fight back. But one family is doing all they can. The DeMoe family has the most devastating form of the disease that there is: early onset Alzheimer’s, an inherited genetic mutation that causes the disease in one hundred percent of cases, and has a fifty percent chance of being passed onto the next generation. Of the six DeMoe children whose father had it, five have inherited the gene; the sixth, daughter Karla, has inherited responsibility for all of them. But rather than give up in the face of such news, the DeMoes have agreed to spend their precious, abbreviated years as part of a worldwide study that could utterly change the landscape of Alzheimer’s research and offers the brightest hope for future treatments—and possibly a cure. Drawing from several years of in-depth research with this charming and upbeat family, journalist Niki Kapsambelis tells the story of Alzheimer’s through the humanizing lens of these ordinary people made extraordinary by both their terrible circumstances and their bravery. “A compelling narrative…and an educational and emotional chronicle” (Kirkus Reviews, starred review), their tale is intertwined with the dramatic narrative history of the disease, the cutting-edge research that brings us ever closer to a possible cure, and the accounts of the extraordinary doctors spearheading these groundbreaking studies. From the oil fields of North Dakota to the jungles of Colombia, this inspiring race against time redefines courage in the face of this most pervasive and mysterious disease.

What obligations to each other do people have or think they have? That question comes up in relation to family and marriage relationships, to law, and to moral reasoning. This novel and highly readable book takes it up in relation to inheritances: to what people think they should leave or be left, who should receive what, when, how, and why. Making the book novel is its range. Here are views about more than money. Covered are also houses, land and, an often neglected but emotion-laden area, the personal and often indivisible things that mean one is remembered as an individual. Making it novel also is its emphasis throughout on meanings and on what people see as matters of choice or flexibility. Even in countries where the legal codes specify who should receive what after death (many European and most Islamic codes allow far less choice than British-based law does), people still have room for decisions about what they give away to various heirs or spend before death. What makes the book highly readable? One reason is its timeliness. Currently lively, for example, are debates over parents balancing their own needs and wishes against those of their children (“spending the kids’ inheritance”, in one description). Another is the book’s style. The writing is straightforward. Theory is not neglected but there is an absence of jargon. The material is also mostly based on narratives: on people’s own descriptions of arrangements that “worked well” or “did not work well” and on why they thought so. That base makes the book far from dry and far from being an account only of negative feelings, objections, challenges, and family rifts. It also makes it more relevant at times of indecision or misunderstanding. In short, a book for many readers, both within the social sciences and beyond it.

This book explores the possibilities offered by Derrida’s work on democracy for interpreting contemporary struggles over democracy in Turkey. The relationship between democracy and justice seems of unquestionable importance to Derrida, with democracy and justice held in tension by deconstruction. Agnes Czajka offers a qualified endorsement of a ‘just democracy’, grounded in the possibilities opened up by reading Derrida’s work on democracy together with his work on justice. She posits that one way of imagining democracy-to-come might be to imagine it as a ‘just democracy’, or one poised at the intersection of the aporia of democracy and the (non)imperative to justice. In the particular context of contemporary struggles over democracy in Turkey, she also explores what such comportment toward a just democracy (or a justice of/in democracy) might look like in the context of that ‘particular’ democracy.