Explores and develops a framework for the ethical practice of name authority control, through theoretical and practice-based essays, stories, content analyses, and other methods

We have freedom of speech but we’re afraid to speak. Our lives have become subjected to PC tyranny—a constant fear of “offending” someone. We think that we are independent and that it is the other guy who is influenced, brainwashed, duped, persuaded. We feel like we think for ourselves. How can we “feel” otherwise? There’s no way to know because countless influences and interactions have molded us. We’re members of various groups—circles of friends, family, professional groups, hobby group, and workplace groups. Groups have a way of developing a view that it imposes with a kind of group-think. We want to belong, to be liked and included so go along and get along. We don’t make waves by questioning. If we have a different view, we keep it to ourselves. Why rock the boat? Thinking for yourself is not so easy. When encountering an argument to a long held opinion or a wild idea, we use critical thinking to evaluate it, as we were taught to do in school. The problem is that critical thinking is critical. It focuses our thinking on the negative—what doesn’t work, what’s wrong with the idea—and encourages my-side thinking where we evaluate evidence in a way that favors our beliefs and entraps us into closed-mindedness. Thinking for yourself requires open-mindedness. Open-mindedness is being receptive and, when the issue is important, calls for actively searching for evidence against your beliefs. Thinking is not driven by answers but by questions. Every intellectual field is born out of a cluster of questions to which answers are needed. Had no questions been asked by those who laid the foundation for a field — for example, Physics or Biology — the field would never have been developed. We define tasks, express problems and delineate issues with questions. Answers signal an end point and stop thought, except when an answer generates a further question. Timothy Leary said, ”to think for yourself you must question authority”. To think, you must question. To think through or rethink anything, one must ask questions that stimulate thought. The quality of your questions determines the quality of your thinking. Thinking begins within some content when questions are generated. No questions equals no understanding. To engage in thinking through your content you must stimulate your thinking with questions that lead to further questions. Our own opinions is one authority we should frequently question. Times change. We change. Perspectives and values change. Book explores how opinions and values we held in the past need periodic evaluation and challenge. Independent thinkers evolve and need to shed the shackles of old views and opinions. Ridicule is the strongest weapon for pressing us to conform. It is a kind of bait that if you go for it will entrap you in an argument you can’t win and leave you looking ridiculous and deflated. Question Authority; Think for Yourself offers techniques, with examples, of how to deflect attacks, side-tracks, and put-downs. If you’ve bitten your tongue and later wished you’d spoken up and not been cowed into silence by a mocking co-worker when you revealed a “politically incorrect” viewpoint, you’ll find much of interest in Question Authority; Think for Yourself .

The West is currently witnessing the slow destruction of the classical liberal tradition. The casualties are reason, the willingness to question political or religious authority, and the validity of natural science. Replacing these are a crippling intellectual relativism, political apathy, and a grave misunderstanding of natural science and its concomitant ethic. In this work, Diana M. Judd gets to the root of the matter by directly addressing the following questions: What is modern natural science? What effect did it have on how we think about politics? What are the dangers surrounding the marginalization of natural science and the liberal intellectual and political tradition? This is a work of political theory. It seeks to engage the political by addressing the question first posed by the ancient Greeks: How ought we to live? If we have indeed entered the age of endarkenment where religious dogma, intellectual apathy, and unquestioned authority increasingly hold sway, there is a need now, more than ever, to explore the meaning and significance of the origins of the modern political and scientific traditions Americans take for granted. It is from these traditions that Americans received the ideas of legitimate political resistance, reason, individual rights, religious freedom, and natural science. The importance of modern natural science and its relationship to these tenets of classical liberalism is the central concern of this book. Claims that science is dogmatic and ideological, and that the tenets of liberalism divide individuals, have become commonplace. It is Judd's intention to show how these claims err, by exploring what natural science is and how it evolved. This ethic centers on the radical idea that authority must be questioned. We ignore this to our peril. If individuals do not question what leaders say, we abdicate the rights and responsibility of self-rule and individual freedom.

A middle-aged woman enters into a negotiation with her childhood best friend and confronts the damage done by their eighth grade teacher, who molested them both.

As a church leader, it’s easy to make the wrong move and find yourself in a bad position. “What to teach; How to teach; What to do,” were the three questions Wesley employed at his first conferences. In sixty previous books Will Willimon has worked the first two. This book is of the “What to do?” genre. Many believe the long decline of The United Methodist Church is a crisis of effective leadership. Willimon takes this problem on. As an improbable bishop, for the last eight years he has laid hands on heads, made ordinands promise to go where he sends them, overseen their ministries, and acted as if this were normal. Here is his account of what he has learned and – more important – what The United Methodist Church must do to have a future as a viable movement of the Holy Spirit.

Not confessional or autobiographical, not openly political or gender-conscious: all that Marianne Moore's poetry is not has masked what it actually is. Cristanne Miller's aim is to lift this mask and reveal the radically oppositional, aesthetic, and political nature of the poet's work. A new Moore emerges from Miller's persuasive book--one whose political engagement and artistic experiments, though not cut to the fashion of her time, point the way to an ambitious new poetic. Miller locates Moore within the historical, literary, and family environments that shaped her life and work, particularly her sense and deployment of poetic authority. She shows how feminist notions of gender prevalent during Moore's youth are reflected in her early poetry, and tracks a shift in later poems when Moore becomes more openly didactic, more personal, and more willing to experiment with language typically regarded as feminine. Distinguishing the lack of explicit focus on gender from a lack of gender-consciousness, Miller identifies Moore as distinctly feminist in her own conception of her work, and as significantly expanding the possibilities for indirect political discourse in the lyric poem. Miller's readings also reveal Moore's frequent and pointed critiques of culturally determined power relationships, those involving race and nationality as well as gender. Making new use of unpublished correspondence and employing close interpretive readings of important poems, Miller revises and expands our understanding of Marianne Moore. And her work links Moore--in her radically innovative reactions to dominant constructions of authority--with a surprisingly wide range of late twentieth-century women poets.