Strohmeyer’s “Faithful at the Shrine of the Daibutsu” Stereoview

In early 1896, photographer and publisher Henry A. Strohmeyer (1858-1943) set off for an around the world photographic tour. His mission was to capture stereoscopic images from Japan, China, and India and various locations around the Middle East and Europe. After arriving in Japan in the Spring of 1896, Strohmeyer took around 200-300 photographic negatives that were curated into a final set of 72 images. This established the first mass-produced, dedicated box set of Japan stereoviews. This 72-view set was distributed exclusively by Underwood & Underwood, the largest producers of stereographic cards globally, making – and presumably selling – nearly 30,000 stereocards and 900 stereoviewers per day by 1900.[1] The Underwood & Underwood empire had perfected door-to-door canvassing, employing enterprising college students to directly market their stock to the public. The catalogue and publishing operation of Strohmeyer and business partner Nehemiah Dwight Wyman (1861-1934) was acquired by Underwood & Underwood in 1901 and the 72-view Japan set continued to be published under the Underwood & Underwood imprint until 1904 when it was replaced by the new “Ponting Set.” For eight years between 1896 and 1904, Strohmeyer’s photographs of Japan remained the premier set of Japanese imagery for the American mass public.[2]

Figure 1

IMG_E5822.jpg

  • Title/Caption: The Faithful at the Shrine of Dai Butsu, Japan’s Greatest Idol, Kamakura, Japan
  • Year: 1896
  • Photographer: Henry A. Strohmeyer (1858-1943)
  • Publisher: Strohmeyer & Wyman, distributed by Underwood & Underwood (out of a set of 72 views)
  • Medium: sliver gelatin print; mounted on curved buff/tan-colored card
  • Dimensions: 7 in X 3.5 in

Strohmeyer’s image of the Daibutsu produces a rather stilted mise-en-scène [Fig. 1]. Two pairs of Japanese onlookers, with the formally dressed women placed several paces behind the men, stand stoically facing the grand Buddhist image. The viewer enters the scene through the two well-groomed women in the lower right foreground, a visual pathway enhanced through the three-dimensional effect produced by stereoscopic viewing. The visual weight given to these two Japanese women immediately calls to mind the motif of the hypersexualized Orient, often signaled through the appearance of alluring geisha. Cultural difference is highlighted not only through the clothing of the worshippers, but also through the magnitude of the object of reverence. In contrast to William Henry Metcalf’s stereoview which elided a human presence, Strohmeyer’s incorporation of people allows for a better sense of scale of the towering bronze statue. In addition, by placing the women on the landing before the stairs, there is an apparent greater vertical distance between them and the head of the Daibutsu, which crowns the very top of the image. This creates an illusion of the statue being taller than it really is.[3] Yet, the wooden posturing of the onlookers makes the size of the Daibutsu appear more menacing than contemplative. Due to the artificial parallel placement and awkward stances, more attention is drawn to the awe-struck worshippers, casting the entire scene under an unnatural and ominous shadow. The caption to the photograph also focuses the viewer’s attention on the pious “faithful,” making this image less about the artistic virtue of the Daibutsu, and more about the foreign and unfamiliar religiosity that inspires such creations.

Figure 2

IMG_E5817.jpg

  • Title: The Faithful at the Shrine of Dai Butsu, Japan’s Greatest Idol, Kamakura, Japan
  • Year: 1901
  • Photographer: Henry A. Strohmeyer (1858-1943)
  • Publisher: Underwood & Underwood (#54 of 72)
  • Medium: sliver gelatin print; mounted on curved buff/tan-colored card
  • Dimensions: 7 in X 3.5 in

In 1901, after the acquisition of Strohmeyer and Wyman’s catalogue, Underwood & Underwood re-issued the 72-card set, now listed as both publisher and distributor on the mount [Fig 2.]. The cards were numbered sequentially and the reverse reprinted the caption in English along with five foreign language translations (French, German, Spanish, Swedish, and Russian) suggesting the international popularity of the series. The series would be re-issued one more time around 1902/3 on slate-colored mounts.

Figure 3

Strohmeyer UU print

  • Title: None (dated on reverse September 11, 1923)
  • Photographer: Henry A. Strohmeyer (1858-1943)
  • Publisher: Underwood & Underwood (#54 of 72)
  • Medium: sliver gelatin print
  • Dimensions: 7 in X 3.5 in

Around the end of the first decade of the twentieth century, Underwood & Underwood expanded into news photography, slowing their production of stereoviews through World War I until fully selling off their stock and rights to Keystone Viewing Company in 1921. They apparently continued to hold the non-stereographic rights to numerous photographs, however, including Strohmeyer’s 1896 image of the Great Buddha of Kamakura [Fig. 3]. This above photograph, dated September 11, 1923 on the reverse, was originally owned by the Baltimore Sun and was likely procured in response to the Great Kantō earthquake of September 1, 1923. The Kamakura Daibutsu was easily recognized as one of the most famous monuments of Japan by international audiences and numerous papers reported on the damage of the statue. I have been unable to locate this image among the published papers of the Baltimore Sun, however. It is the left side of Strohmeyer’s original stereoscopic image, photographed more than two decades earlier.


Notes

*This is part of a series of posts devoted to exploring the development of a visual literacy for Buddhist imagery in America.

[1] For estimates on card production at the turn of the century, see Darrah 1977: 47. Brey also discusses production and the scripted sales pitch that made the Underwoods’ enterprise highly successful, see Brey 1990.

[2] For more information on Strohmeyer and the publishers Underwood & Underwood, see Bennett 2006. Bennett notes that the first Japan views on Strohmeyer mounts appeared in 1890-91, when they reprinted Anthony’s “Views of Japan.”

[3] Most photographers would position their camera on this second landing, an optimal distance to fill a majority of the frame with the Daibutsu. Only a hand of photographers would position themselves further back, on the first landing, which minimizes the visual significance of the Daibutsu, but also opens the possibility for more visually compelling compositions. A different view from Strohmeyer & Wyman’s set is paced further back. Moreover, a third view of the Kamakura Daibutsu is without people. It is worth noting that a handful of other views contain Buddhist imagery.

References

  • Bennett, Terry. 2006. Old Japanese Photographs Collector’s Data Guide. London: Bernard Quaritch Ltd.
  • Brey, William. 1990. “Ten Million Stereo Views a Year,” Stereo World, Vol. 16, No. 6, pp. 6-12. [Digitized by the National Stereoscopic Association, www.stereoworld.org.]
  • Darrah, William C. 1977. The World of Stereographs. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania: W.C. Darrah.
  • [For a comparison between Strohmeyer and Herbert Ponting’s photography styles, see here]
  • [The Library of Congress has a good selection of Strohmeyer & Wyman’s 72-view Japan set, see here]

Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series

Metcalf and Bennet’s “A Summer In Japan” Stereoview

Although professional photography studios already crowded the Japanese treaty port of Yokohama by the 1870s, William Henry Metcalf (1821-1892) was one of the first intrepid amateur photographers who brought his own camera on his trans-Pacific trip to Japan.[1] More than a decade before portable Kodak cameras ushered in a new era of amateur photography, Metcalf commissioned his friend and fellow photographer Henry Hamilton Bennet (1843-1908) to construct a portable travel camera, equipped with both photographic and stereoscopic lenses. Arriving in Yokohama in June 1877 with the pioneering Japanologist Edward Sylvester Morse (1838-1925), Metcalf set out on a four-month tour photographing the Japanese landscape. More than two dozen of his stereographic photographs were consigned for publication by Bennet under the title “A Summer in Japan” and promoted to a ready market in the US hungry for imagery of the exotic Orient.

IMG_E5813.jpg

  • Title/Caption: Bronze Image of Buddha at Kammakura [sic]
  • Year: 1877
  • Photographer: William Henry Metcalf (1821-1892)
  • Publisher: Henry Hamilton Bennett (1843–1908), “A Summer in Japan” (#346)
  • Medium: albumen print, mounted on yellow-orange card
  • Dimensions: 7 in x 3.5 in

Metcalf’s image of the Daibutsu (Great Buddha) of Kamakura was not the first published stereoview card of this popular tourist attraction, yet it remains an early attempt at capturing the ancient bronze behemoth with this new and increasingly popular photographic technique.[2] It also presages the immense popularity of this subject for the stereographic trade of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when it became a staple image among the sets of Japan views issued by the larger publishers, such as Underwood, Graves, and White. Metcalf’s image is uncommon among contemporary photographs of the Daibutsu in that it captures the scene devoid of people, casting visual focus on the serene countenance of the statue and its rustic setting. More typically, people, oftentimes children, would be included in the shot to establish the sheer grandeur of the statue, but here the viewer is left to his or her own devices to estimate the size and dimensions. Moreover, by removing visitors from the scene, Metcalf was able to facilitate a more immediate encounter between the viewer and religious icon, creating a silent space to ponder the meaning of such a picturesque portrait.


Notes

*This post was incorporated into the article, “William H. Metcalf: Iconic pictures of 1870s Japan were taken by an amateur Milwaukee photographer,” published online in the Milwuakee Independent.

*This is part of a series of posts devoted to exploring the development of a visual literacy for Buddhist imagery in America. All items (except otherwise noted) are part of my personal collection of Buddhist-themed ephemera.

[1] For more on Metcalf’s travels and photography see Gartlin 2010.

[2] I am aware of at least two older stereoview cards bearing the image of the Kamakura Daibutsu, one photographed by Charles Weed and published in San Francisco by Thomas Houseworth & Co. in 1869, and one published internationally under several titles by Wilhelm Burger, also in 1869. (A image of Burger’s stereoview card can be found in the Database of Old Japanese Photographs in the Nagasaki University Library Collection.) For more information on these sets, see Bennett 2006.

References


Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series

Threshold Concepts Conference Paper

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.31.48.png

Preface

This past weekend I presented a paper at the Western Regional AAR covering some of the insights I’ve developed while teaching religious studies classes. The numerous blog posts on this site formed the raw material for several ideas, yet, not surprisingly, there were also a few ideas which did not hold up to further scrutiny when researching and writing this paper. The most significant was the realization that my identification of Threshold Concepts in religious studies may have been initially too broad, and I really only focus on one (albeit important) example here. Some of the big takeaways include the important distinctions regarding researching and teaching religions, the necessity of teaching content while critiquing it at the same time, and – as the title plainly indicates – the value of Threshold Concepts in the classroom. (The original proposal can be found here.)

I would like to thank the organizers and my fellow panelists, Maha Elgenaidi, Mahjabeen Dhala, Bat Sheva Miller, Jonathan Homrighausen, and Leigh Miller, for their insightful (and well-delivered!) papers and lively conversation.

Rebuilding Religion: Threshold Knowledge and Its Value to Asian Survey Courses

“Religion is not an empirical thing. In fact, one can say that ‘religion’ does not exist.” This is what I tell my students on our first day of class, which immediately presents a challenge since I stand in front of them, apparently, as a teacher of nothing. Of course, I immediately guide conversation as to how “religion” is a discourse, a historical and cultural construct, so thoroughly naturalized so as to appear a part of human nature.

Admittedly, this is a kind of cheap trick. In function, I hope to undercut a student’s enculturated, naturalized perspective of the world and provide a model of the critical inquiry I hope to engender. In form, however, I give away a possible answer to a question I really want them to ponder, “what is Religion?”

In designing a survey course on Asian religious traditions, I wanted to keep this question, “What is religion?” as the vibrant centerpiece. Historical critical methods and discourse analysis have an important place in university research and in undergraduate teaching, but so does providing a basic competency in the various religions. My challenge, as I saw it, was to provide a basic “religious literacy” in Asian religious traditions while at the same time destabilizing the very notion of “religion.” Finding a balance between these two approaches I believe is integral to survey classes, not just upper division courses or even graduate seminars.

In my attempts to find middle ground I decided to have my students, as a final project, devise a well-reasoned and well-argued definition of religion for themselves – and here is the spin – a definition solely based on the Asian content we cover, in an attempt to undercut the Christian-centric World Religions Paradigm, a topic we will return to shortly. This project was stimulated, in part, by an emerging pedagogical theory called “threshold concepts” which operate as transformative moments in a learner’s experience if they can be identified and harnessed in the correct way.

Since deconstructing and constructing definitions are vital to my course, let’s start with a few important ones.

World Religions Paradigm (WRP)

So what is wrong with “religion”? As many of us are already aware, “religion, religions, and religious” – to quote the title of the seminal article by the late Jonathan Z. Smith – are all value-laden terms.[1] Smith, Russell McCutcheon, Timothy Fitzgerald, Tomoko Masuzawa, Catherine Bell, among many others, have all pointed to the influence of Christian values in shaping the conception of the genus, the category, called “religion.”[2] Bell summarizes it well when she says, “As a prototype for religion, Christianity provided all the assumptions with which people began to address historically and geographically different religious cultures. In other words, as the prototype for the general category of “religion,” …Christianity was the major tool used to encompass, understand, and dominate the multiplicity.”[3] [Slide 1]

Slide 1

Slide 1

To signal this discursive power of “religion” and its far-reaching impact, scholars have begun to refer to a “World Religions Paradigm”– this is where all world religions are molded in the image of Christianity – a phrase first coined, as far as I can tell, by Bell herself.[4] In a recent provocative article by Suzanne Owen entitled, “The World Religions Paradigm: Time for a Change” we are confronted with the ramifications of such a paradigm in the classroom.[5] Owen, correctly in my view, wants to challenge the paradigm because it remodels non-Christian traditions according to liberal Western Protestant values.[6] There is also a tendency to privilege, for example, texts over ritual, doctrine over practice, and the transcendent over the worldly.[7] It also hypostatizes religions into discrete, typically homogenous, entities nominalized by calling them “isms” – such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Daoism, etc. This tends to overshadow a long complex history of interaction, synthesis, and internal division. [Slide 2]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.10.png

Slide 2

This privileging and mode of discrete categorization has long been reproduced in the Western study of Asian religions,[8] but as Owen reiterates, as modern scholarship becomes more attuned to these problematic presuppositions, there remains a gap between what we (as scholars) research and what we teach, where this paradigm often continues unabated in the classroom.[9]

While it is imperative that we destabilize categories such as “religion” (or address any of these issues) in our research and our teaching, I am actually not convinced that we need to completely discard the World Religions Paradigm in the classroom as Owen seemingly suggests.[10]

She admits that student expectations often drive the use of the paradigm in university courses; it is, after all, the primary conceptual framework for non-specialists.[11] Instead of viewing this as an obstacle, we can take it as an opportunity. In an edited volume entitled After World Religions, Steven Ramey argues that this familiarity with the paradigm provides an important starting point for student learning.[12] This follows an important principle in the Schema Theory of Learning which postulates that people primarily learn new concepts only after modulating pre-existing mental templates of the world, or in other words, “you gotta work with what you got.”[13]

Ramey summarizes his approach by saying, “This background that our students often bring into our classes is one reason why I advocate teaching the World Religions Paradigm in the introductory courses, but teaching it as a constructed discourse that we critique as we study it.”[14] Ramey calls this “critiquing while teaching,” whereby instructors can capitalize on the previous knowledge of students while also interrogating and transforming it.

This framework also allows for the use of traditional religious studies textbooks, an industry that widely accepts and perpetuates the World Religions Paradigm. For Ramey, these textbooks, with separate chapters on globally diverse “isms,” should become the target of student critique. Discussions can emerge on why certain subjects are included or excluded, or which organizational principles were employed, and how those choices reveal the assumptions and interests of the authors.[15] So, instead of taking textbooks as neutral descriptions of the world, they act as cultural documents that students can critically deconstruct. I quite recommend Ramey’s discussion of these matters, and I found this approach of critiquing textbooks to be quite useful in my course.[16] [Slide 3]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.19.png

Slide 3

A third reason to critically utilize the World Religions framework is that it allows instructors to still focus on content that reflects phenomenal realities in our world. In 2016, the AAR was awarded a grant to produce guidelines related to the expected competency in religions for every university graduate; handily called a “religious literacy.”[17] A recent draft of these guidelines highlights the political necessity of understanding religions and religious actors. I would just like to briefly note that the “Learning Outcomes” reflect both a normative vision of religion as well as a more critical one, taking a blended approach as we have been describing here. [Slide 4]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.26.png

Slide 4

To summarize, while the World Religions Paradigm remains highly problematic as a framework for contemporary scholarly research, with the correct approach, such as “critiquing while teaching,” its remains a useful tool in the classroom, or for those versed in Buddhism, an upaya, or “skillful method.”[18]

Destabilizing through Defining (or Rebuilding Religion)

My approach utilized a close examination of definitions. On the first day of class I divided up the students into several groups and had each one craft a clear, one sentence definition of religion (with an illustrative metaphor to anchor it, which turned to out be pretty revealing of what students really thought of religion). [Slide 5]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.33.png

Slide 5

Then we compare these to well-known scholarly definitions (EB Tyler, William James, Émile Durkheim, Clifford Geertz, Catherine Albanese, even Religion for Dummies) and see if we can identify any patterns, what constitutes the received “core dimensions” of religion. Things like belief, divine beings, and ethical codes are quickly targeted, which allows an easy transition into a discussion of the World Religions Paradigm and the guiding presence of Protestant values in these types of definitions.

Thus as a challenge, I ask my students to see if their definitions, and the definitions of scholars, hold up in light of the Asian content we explore. They are tasked individually with crafting their own definition of religion, to rebuild religion, based on examples drawn exclusively from Asian traditions, and presenting it along with their argumentation as a final paper.

I have found this approach appealing because it emphasizes higher-order thinking such as analysis, evaluation, and creation, the three highest cognitive domains according to Bloom’s taxonomy. The purpose is not to create a perfect definition of religion, as if that was possible, but to see that all definitions of religion are constructed. This encourages students to envision different ways in which to organize their worlds.[19]

To help facilitate this process I regularly introduced several comparative themes which could be adopted for the new definition. Many of them come from the more traditional understandings of religion (mysticism, polytheism, sacrifice), while some come from philosophy (ontology, epistemology), and others I incorporate to force my students to take unconventional perspectives towards religious ideology (metaphor, nature, humor). [Slide 6]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.42.png

Slide 6

 

While I did not include kindness or metta/loving-kindness as a theme, I did happen to incorporate ahimsa, non-violence. As a comparative theme, not only were students asked to understand the concept in the framework of Jainism where it was introduced, but also to see if they could find analogues elsewhere, such as Confucianism or Shinto. By using these lenses to build bridges between traditions, students were encouraged to look beyond the traditional building blocks of religion – belief, divine beings, and ethical codes – to find potentially new ones they could argue as central. The creation of the taxon of religion is now no longer naturalized, it is rhetorical and discursive.

Threshold Concepts (TC)

My curriculum design was stimulated by a pedagogical theory called Threshold Concepts, first introduced by Jan Meyer and Ray Land in a 2003 landmark paper. In the intervening 15 years there have been hundreds, even thousands, of articles developing this idea, thus I can only give the most general outlines here.[20]

Threshold Concept theory maintains that there are concepts, most likely found in all academic disciplines, which act as conceptual gateways or portals through which allow one to arrive at important, new understandings. Initially, this particular knowledge remains obscure because it cannot be easily assimilated into one’s existing meaning frame (the pre-existing mental schema[21]). But through regular exposure and practice one can enter a liminal space where familiar ways of seeing slowly fade. A person thus can enter new conceptual terrain that permits previously inaccessibly ways of thinking and practicing.[22] Threshold Concepts also tend to represent specific disciplinary knowledge, allowing students to think, practice, and talk like scholars of particular fields.[23]

This transformative property has emerged as the “superordinate and non-negotiable” criterion of a Threshold Concept.[24] Taking the metaphor of travelling through a portal, this means that, once mastered, these concepts alter how the learner views the world, often engendering what is described as an epistemic, ontological, or subjective shift.[25]

A second criterion noted by Meyer and Land is integration, whereby the formerly disconnected elements of an idea gel into a coherent relationship.[26] I like to think of this as those moments when you have a lot of confusion about a concept, but once you understand it, you start to see it everywhere. All of a sudden, all of the facets are brought together and aligned, and you can’t quite remember how you didn’t see it beforehand.

A natural third factor is that these concepts are not self-evident, they are troublesome and take practice to master. Threshold Knowledge is a new mental template of the world, and that only comes with real intellectual work.

Generally this knowledge is seen as irreversible as well and limited, or bounded, meaning there are always new frontiers beyond the horizon of knowledge, new concepts and new schemas to assimilate. [Slide 7]

Screen Shot 2018-03-27 at 21.32.48

Slide 7

Conclusion

Personally, I feel that Meyer and Land have given a convenient handle to an important phenomenological event in the learning process, perhaps not too disconnected from the “aha” or “Eureka” moment.[27]

So, then, what might be an example of a Threshold Concept in the field of Religious Studies? I would argue that a prototypical example would be that “religion is a cultural construct.” This is a conceptual threshold that must be crossed in order to understand the modern study of religion. It is not self-evident to non-specialists, and once a person has that shift, they can find the entailments of that insight woven into the fabric of the field.[28] And it is precisely for that fact that I believe this concept should be taught in introductory courses on religion alongside the more stabilized (or normatized) “facts” which form the content of religious literacy.[29] The “critiquing while teaching” approach is successful in achieving a balance between servicing content and critique, and “destabilizing through defining” is but one example of this approach.

In conclusion, scholars of religion are not mere memorizers of facts and we should not treat students in religious studies courses in that manner either. Threshold Concepts mobilize critical thinking in ways that involve analysis, assessment, and creativity with the data. The development of these skills are not only integral to the humanities, but informed civic engagement as well.

Footnotes

[1] Smith 1998.

[2] See, inter alia, Fitzgerald 2000; 2007, Lincoln 1992, Masuzawa 2005, McCutcheon 1997; 2001, Nongbri 2013, and Smith 1978; 1998.

[3] Bell 2006: 30. The creation of “religion” is indebted to comparative Christian theology (e.g. see Masuzawa 2005: 72ff.), or as described by Fitzgerald, “liberal ecumenical theology” (2000: 4-5, 14).

[4] Smith was the first to bring attention to the importance of the taxon of “world religions” (see Smith 1998: 278, Smith 2004: 166-73), but Masuzawa (2005) was integral in outlining its particular European intellectual genealogy. Bell (2006, 2008) then loosely applied the concept of Kuhnian “paradigms,” in as much as they are “scaffolds” for organizing ideas (Bell 2006: 28), of which “World Religions paradigm” was one example (Bell 2006: 34-6). The phrasing was picked up by later scholars such as Suzanne Owen (2011).

Importantly, according to Masuzawa, her primary interest was not to examine the emergence of the Religious Studies field or disciplinary self-consciousness – as is highlighted by Bell and others – but the role world religions played in constructing the “West” (Masuzawa 2005: 10; Masuzawa 2008, esp. 149).

[5] Owen 2011. Bell (2006: 34) also notes the indispensability of the paradigm for teachers.

[6] Owen 2011: 258-9.

[7] To this can be added the presumption of “divine” or “higher” power, as well as the presence of a charismatic religious founder or leader.

[8] See, inter alia, Almond 1988, Schopen 1997, and King 1999. In addition, this conceptualization of religion tends to normatize a literary, and mostly male, elite perspective (Owen 2011: 256, 259).

[9] Owen 2011: 254, 258. This has political ramification outside the classroom as well since normatized conceptions of religions will continue to inform non-specialists in the journalistic and political spheres. (Owen 2011: 260, 261, 266). On a more general level, education in religion will remain an education in comparative morality, whereby abstracted ethical codes that are deemed similar to modern Western Christian morals will be examined (Owen 2011: 266).

[10] Owen’s language seems to vacillate between outright rejection and careful supplementation to the World Religions Paradigm. In her conclusion, Owen suggests that the historical and textual focus in religious studies can be corrected through the incorporation of the social sciences, ethnography specifically (Owen 2011: 256, 265), which can bring it more in line with critical analysis typical in the humanities more broadly (Owen 2011: 257). Thus, it appears her primary concern with the World Religions Paradigm, at the university level, is methodological. (See also her comments on teaching, p. 258, and secondary schools, p. 266). In a later article, Owen suggests a focus on “making sacred” as a corrective to the “world religions” approach (Owen 2016).

[11] Owen 2011: 257, 266. Generally, this framework suggests that there are several discrete religious traditions that all have some implicit resemblance to the Christian model, so much so, as Masuzawa explain, that presumptuously “any broadly value-orienting, ethically inflected viewpoint must derive from a religious heritage” (2005: 20).

[12] Ramey 2016.

[13] Schema Theory was first used to theorize about knowledge and cognition and was borrowed and adapted as a model to understand the processes of learning, notably by Richard Anderson (Anderson, et al.: 1977). There seems to be significant theoretical overlap with Hans-Georg Gadamer’s hermeneutical musings on the “fusion of horizons” (Horizontverschmelzung).

I take Ramey’s point as an important rejection of attempts which radically depart from using vernacular categories or organizational schemas in the classroom that unnecessarily frustrate students (Ramey 2016: 49). I would specifically include here the rather ineffective suggestions – at least in terms of pedagogy – of replacing the word “religion” with “cogmographic formations” (Dubuisson 2003) or “worldviews” (Droogers & van Harskamp 2014).

[14] Ramey 2016: 48. See also the comments of Philip Tite:  http://bulletin.equinoxpub.com/2015/08/teaching-beyond-the-world-religions-paradigm/.

[15] Ramey 2016: 51.

[16] I agree with my colleague, Caleb McCarthy, that if insufficient attention is given to describing the purpose of such an exercise, students may reject the values of such a book at all, or question why we even made them purchase it. This critique should be a creative act which seeks to understand the implicit choices all authors or textbooks must make, not a destructive act which renders the work worthless.

[17] See https://www.aarweb.org/about/religious-literacy-guidelines-for-college-students

[18] Indeed the creation and sustenance of a generic “religion” is a practical requirement for the existence of Religious Studies departments, a point made by Smith (1998: 281-2).

[19] See also Ramey 2016: 55.

[20] Flanagan 2016; Land, Rattray & Vivian 2014. In addition, there have been five international conferences on this topic (ibid: xi).

[21] For important connections between Schema Theory and Threshold Comments see Walker 2013.

[22] Meyer & Land 2003: 2.

[23] Walker 2013: 247. Also, “such a transformed view or landscape may represent how people ‘think’ in a particular discipline, or how they perceive, apprehend, or experience particular phenomena within that discipline (or more generally). It might, of course, be argued, in a critical sense, that such transformed understanding leads to a privileged or dominant view and therefore a contestable way of understanding something. This would give rise to discussion of how threshold concepts come to be identified and prioritised in the first instance” (Meyer & Land 2003: 1).

[24] Land, Meyer & Flanagan 2016: xii.

[25] Land, Meyer & Flanagan 2016: xxiii and elsewhere in this volume.

[26] Land, Meyer & Flanagan 2016: xii.

[27] To my knowledge there has been no serious attempt at correlating the two.

[28] Of course, from certain theological or even comparative phenomenological frameworks the idea that the category of religion is a cultural construct is anathema, or to use a playful analogue, heretical. From another perspective, Jason Davies (2016) points to the tribalism sometimes encountered in academic circles who try to keep the doors closed to their disciplines, terming this “threshold guardianship.”

[29] In breaching the Threshold Concept that “religion is a construct,” students become “insiders” of the discipline. This is in contrast to being or becoming an insider to a religion (in as much as one doesn’t define religion to include academic disciplines, but this is of course entirely possible!). Ever since Religious Studies was wrenched from Theology departments there seems to have emerged a lingering question as to how to preferably teach religious studies. A clear distinction is made between prescriptive (or confessional) statements, which belong to the field of Theology, and descriptive or analytical statements, which fall under the purview of Religious Studies. Yet, the level to which students inhabit those descriptions and analyses manifests on a sliding scale. An interesting discussion that moves in this direction is offered by Gerald Larson, who, borrowing from Melford Spiro, distinguishes between “acculturation” and “enculturation.” Acculturation in this context means to acquire propositions about a religion, while enculturation requires a level of internalization to the degree that they might become true or right (Larson 1988: 203). One reading of this would equate enculturation with Theologically prescriptive statements, but I think another reading is possible whereby enculturation could signal the “trying out” of perspectives without accepting them as totalizing truths. At some level, I think this is why meditation (typically Buddhist) is sometimes “practiced” in religious studies classrooms, in order to potentially capitalize on the affective components of deeper learning experiences, but not quite breaching the status of being prescriptive (this also explains why some are bothered by such exercises). This affective component I would argue plays a seminal role in the classes of Michael Puett, a popular professor of Chinese philosophy at Harvard University, who claims his courses will “change your life” (See https://theatln.tc/2o1IvPU). Of course, if he were a professor of Chinese religion, the claim may take a different, potentially problematic, coloring. This seems to be an interesting issue at the heart of a liberal arts educations which moves toward “character formation”; it is embraced unless there is the possibility of a “religious” tinge to it (see e.g. the comments by Owen 2011: 265-6). This struggle is also embodied in Ninian Smart’s dictum that the phenomenology of religion be guided by both époche (suspension or bracketing) and informed empathy. Nevertheless, the concern of making lecture material meaningful is mostly aligned with making it register on an affective level with the student. Since Threshold Concepts represent “troublesome knowledge,” the process of acquiring and integrating them is also noted for its affective quality, though these are truths bounded by disciplinary discourse (see, e.g. Walker 2013).

Bibliography

Almond, Philip. 1988. The British Discovery of Buddhism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Anderson, R.C. et al. 1977. “Frameworks for Comprehending Discourse,” American Educational Research Journal, Vol 14, No. 4, pp. 367-81.

Bell, Catherine. 2006. “Paradigms behind (And before) the Modern Concept of Religion,” History and Theory, Vol. 45, No. 4, pp. 27-46.

Bell, Catherine. 2008. “Extracting the Paradigm-Ouch!” Method and Theory in the Study of Religion, Vol. 20, pp. 114-24. [Review of Masuzawa’s thesis

Droogers, André and Anton van Harskamp, eds. 2014. Methods for the Study of Religious Change: From Religious Studies to Worldview Studies. Sheffield: Equinox.

Dubuisson, Daniel. 2003. The Western Construction of Religion: Myths, Knowledge, and Ideology. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Fitzgerald, Timothy. 2000. The Ideology of Religious Studies. New York: Oxford University Press.

Fitzgerald, Timothy. 2007. Religion and the Secular: Historical and Colonial Formations. New York: Routledge.

Flanagan, M. 2016. Threshold Concepts: Undergraduate Teaching, Postgraduate Training and Professional Development: A Short Introduction and Bibliography. London: UCL. Retrieved from http://www.ee.ucl.ac.uk/~mflanaga/thresholds.html

Gearon, Liam. 2014. “The Paradigms of Contemporary Religious Education,” Journal for the Study of Religion, Vol. 27, No. 1, pp. 52-81.

King, Richard. 1999. Orientalism and Religion: Postcolonial Theory, India, and “the Mystic East.” New York: Routledge.

Land, Ray, Jan Meyer, and Michael Flanagan, eds. 2014. Threshold Concepts in Practice. Rotterdam: Sense Publishing.

Larson, Gerald. 1988. “An Introduction to the Santa Barbara Colloquy: Some Unresolved Questions,” Sounding: An Interdisciplinary Journal, Vol. 71, No. 2-3, pp. 187-204.

Lincoln, Bruce. 1992. Discourse and the Construction of Society: Comparative Studies of Myth, Ritual, and Classification. New York: Oxford University Press.

Masuzawa, Tomoko. 2005. The Invention of World Religions: or, How European Universalism was preserved in the Language of Pluralism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Masuzawa, Tomoko. 2008. “What Do the Critics Want?—A Brief Reflection on the Difference between a Disciplinary History and a Discourse Analysis,” Method & Theory in the Study of Religion, Vol. 20, No. 2, pp. 139-49.

McCutcheon, Russell T. 1997. Manufacturing Religion: The Discourse on Sui Generis Religion and the Politics of Nostalgia. New York: Oxford University Press.

McCutcheon, Russell T. 2001. Critics Not Caretakers: Redescribing the Public Study of Religion. Albany: SUNY Press.

Meyer, Jan and Ray Land. 2003. Threshold Concepts and Troublesome Knowledge: Linkages to Ways of Thinking and Practicing in the Disciplines. ETL Project Occasional Report.

Nongbri, Brent. 2013. Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Owen, Suzanne. 2011. “The World Religions Paradigm: Time for a Change,” Arts & Humanities in Higher Education, Vol. 10, No. 3, pp. 253-68.

Ramey, Steven. 2016. “The Critical Embrace: Teaching the World Religions Paradigm as Data,” in After World Religions: Reconstructing Religious Studies, Christopher R. Cotter and David G. Robertson, eds., New York: Routledge, pp. 48-60.

Schopen, Gregory. 1997. “Archaeology and Protestant Presuppositions in the Study of Indian Buddhism,” History of Religions, Vol. 31, No. 1, pp.1-23.

Smith, Jonathan Z. 1978. Map is Not Territory: Studies in the History of Religion. Leiden: Brill.

Smith, Jonathan Z. 1998. “Religion, Religions, Religious,” in M.C. Taylor, ed., Critical Terms of Religious Studies, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 269-84.

Smith, Jonathan Z. 2004. Relating Religion: Essays in the Study of Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Walker, Guy. 2013. “A Cognitive Approach to Threshold Concepts,” Higher Education, Vol. 65, No. 2, pp. 247-63.

 

 

Online Philosophy Videos

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I am currently enrolled in the Online Teacher Training Course in Canvas (OTTCC) through Ventura Community College, a local school where I (irregularly) teach. This course is designed to train teachers in the online MOOC platform Canvas which was recently adopted by the California Community Colleges as their course management system. Planning an online course is significantly different than a traditional course, and this training is meant to provide a best practices approach so as to facilitate more teachers effectively using the platform. As I go through the training I’ll post here a few observations relevant to the training.

One of the more noticeable differences in designing courses for online platforms is the “chuncking” of material, online educations speaks of “modules” quite frequently, of which several could be taught in an entire week or over the course of several weeks. Most frequently, however, these modules are smaller in scope and could be envisioned as elements one would have in a single lecture class.

The Online Education Initiative rubric, which was developed by the California Community Colleges, assesses “content presentation” along a list of thirteen criteria. One of those criteria is “student centered teaching” of which “alignment” is gained through the use of a variety of modalities such as text, audio, video, and imagery.

Since one of the courses I am planing is in philosophy I thought compliance with this criterion would be a good opportunity to gauge what types of online video content could be used in various modules of my course. My criteria for selection were quite simple: 1) the video had to focus on a narrow philosophical topic, 2) it had to be less than 10 minutes short, ideally 6(ish) minutes, 3) include more than just a talking head (thus some type of animation, imagery, or at least a very lively and compelling speaker.

I was surprised by the amount of quality videos that were published on YouTube. Some of the channels I found useful include: TedEd, BBC Radio 4, Wireless Philosophy, CrashCourse, Wisecrack, PBS Idea Channel, and Philosophy Tube.

Of these, TedEd is my favorite. The topic is focused, it does no often go longer than 5-6 minutes, and the production value is outstanding. The PBS Idea Channel (unfortunately no longer uploading new videos as of summer 2017) takes a different approach by looking at philosophical arguments and applying them to pop culture, for example would Kant consider a meme art? Overall, there is a wide range of purposes and intended audiences in the above list of videos.

I also hope to supplement these video with my own. I plan to use screen cast software to record my computer screen to walk through some portions of the modules. Of course, learning is a social act, thus the ability to build interest and community is one of the challenges faced by online education. Using these videos as tools in an educational setting – not replacing the educational setting – I think will be central for my course development.

 

Setting Student Expectations and Intentions

While designing my course syllabus, I was focused on all of the traditional aspects: crafting learning outcomes, deciding on course content, selecting class readings, figuring out student assessment, and so forth. It never occurred to me to think about syllabus design, meaning graphic design. This is all the more strange because I was a graphic designer.

I was lucky enough to stumble across this blog by Tona Hangen (Update, also Zac Wendler) which had a profound impact on my syllabus design (I’ll discuss this more in-depth at another time). Her design reminded me of newsletters I created in the past and that insight led me to reconsider the purpose of a course syllabus. I wanted to make a document that was more than a course “contract” that was squirreled away and never thought about again.

One aspect, which I will discuss here, was the role a syllabus played in helping to frame the intentions of students. Hangen’s post does a great job of analyzing three different types of learners in her class, those who need to acquire basic knowledge, those that have that knowledge already, but want to expand their knowledge, and those who have extensive knowledge and who can analyze and assess at higher levels. Her syllabus  utilized the metaphor of scuba diving to describe the different “depths” her students would reach. I adapted these categories to the content of my course, dividing them between arhat, bodhisattva, and buddha.

Screen Shot 2017-10-22 at 22.16.25.pngDuring our first class meeting, these ideas are approached through conversation with my students about why they are taking my class (I’ve yet to have a religious studies major in any of my classes; I’m lucky if I have anyone whose major is in the humanities!). Typically, after listening to several comments on how this class fulfills several requirements, I begin to ask slightly more probing questions: Why this class? (Surely other classes fulfilled these requirements too!) Undoubtedly, a few start to open up about personal interests or express their genuine curiosity. I use those insights to propel discussion about the potential value of Religious Studies classes and how students can approach our class. For this summer class, I then introduced them to the three levels of aspiration (above) and asked them where they thought they might fall in the spectrum.

This is more of a reflection exercise to establish expectations and intentions than anything else. Overall I find this to be a much better introductory conversation than asking students about their majors or hometowns.

Periodic Table of Academic Disciplines

9-10-2010.jpgI’m continually amazed how the efforts of random bloggers make my life as a writing instructor all the more easier.

For our second writing project we focus on the epistemological dimensions of different academic disciplines and how implicit expectations shape the scholarly writing in those fields. While students are quite familiar with different departments in the university, trying to explain why they are separated as they are can be challenging.

I use class time to discuss the basic framework of how scholars of different disciplines ask different types of questions about the world. Consequently, they must marshal different types of evidence to support their claims.

This is, as always, an exercise in raising awareness. I use a podcast (as homework) to explain the history of disciplinary divisions, stemming from the secularization of the German university system in the 19th century and “discovery” of the social sciences (political science, economics, sociology, anthropology, etc.).

I charge the students with researching a topic and finding appropriate scholarly materials on that topic from different disciplines – both books and articles. They have to decide which discipline the work falls under, which can be harder than it seems, especially if you are not used to trying to differentiate those characteristics already. At some level, having a list of options makes the job easier, where Claudia’s blog helps exceptionally. She has made a chart, mirroring that of the Periodic Tables of Elements, with academic disciplines – even grouping them according to field.

My only criticism is that it does not represent some area studies, such as Women’s Studies, Black Studies, Chican@ Studies. etc. Also, Religious Studies is placed in the Humanities field (which is not inherently problematic), but does not make it clear that Religious Studies is a “raider” discipline – as is typical for other “areas studies”- pulling methodologies from various disciplines. This means a scholar of Religious Studies will approach their topics from the lens of history, sociology, psychology, cognitive science, etc. (There is no Humanities “methodology” per se). While one may have greater training in historical approaches, it is possible to take an inter-disciplinary approach as well, where several disciplinary approaches are intertwined.


 Writing Skills Posts

Pedagogy Proposal on Threshold Concepts

[UPDATE: Paper posted here]

I’ve become more drawn to the pedagogy sections of the academic conferences I’ve attended in the past few years, especially the American Academy of Religion. This year, for the first time, I’ve decide to dip my toe into this new field of inquiry by proposing a paper for the Western Regional Conference of the AAR, submitting to the Pedagogy of Religious Studies Unit.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed ruminating on the role of threshold knowledge in teaching, a concept that was first introduced to me through my training for the Writing Program at UCSB and largely by the (then) head of the department Linda Adler-Kassner. Her views convinced me of the importance of threshold concepts and their application in classroom environments.

Buoyed by the success of my recent summer course I was hoping to reflect further on how it can be developed thought this conference proposal. The theme this year was “kindness,” something that I felt I could incorporate into my proposal since I used morality and non-violence as threshold concepts in my course.

My proposal is posted below:

Rebuilding Religion: Threshold Knowledge and Its Value to Asian Survey Courses

How can we teach religious studies and yet deconstruct its central focus, religion? Is this possible in a survey course where theory is often overshadowed by content? The paper will examine how students can be granted agency and creative freedom through designing a survey course with the directed goal of rebuilding a definition of religion based solely on concepts developed through the study of non-Western traditions. This critical process is supported by the introduction of “threshold concepts,” defined by Jan Meyer and Ray Land as ideas crucial for the epistemological participation in academic disciplines. Threshold knowledge, conceived on the metaphor of passing through a portal, that is derived from these concepts is considered transformative and oftentimes irreversible.

Using a course I taught in the past year as a case study, I will explore how analyzing and evaluating common scholarly definitions of religion acts as a springboard for engaged student inquiry. By highlighting Western biases in these definitions, students are asked to reconstruct, through sound argumentation, a definition of religion with the new “raw materials” gathered from non-Western traditions.

Moreover, threshold concepts anchor student’s analysis and comparative endeavors by acting as lenses through which they can critically interrogate the course materials. For example, by foregrounding ideas that frequently remain underdeveloped or implicit, such as material culture, soteriology, and myth, as well as less-commonly covered concepts such as metaphor and humor, and framing them as threshold concepts, students are asked to think about how these ideas may –or may not – constitute the “core dimensions” of religion. I will end with a rumination on “kindness” as a valuable threshold concept for religious studies, aspects of which were introduced to my students through the ideas of morality and non-violence.

 

Meditation or Mind Lab?

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Slide introducing a Mind Lab Exercise

I arrived on campus a few days before classes began to find my classroom. The room number suggested that I had to go to the gym to find my classroom, so I was curious. After being directed by a few students on the basketball team, I came to find that I was slated to teach my Zen class in a dance recital room, complete with mirror and ballet barre…and no desks what-so-ever.

I immediately went to the department to see if I could switch rooms, I had no idea how I could conduct a religious studies class there. I was told that room was selected because the previous instructor  – someone I knew was wildly popular – had requested to teach there. It immediately made sense – his Zen class was all about the practice of Zen (meditation) while mine was going to be about the history of Zen (myth, lineage & literature).

This immediately struck me. I love when I find someone who has a completely different approach to the same material. I talk a lot about the history of meditation in my classes on Buddhism, delving into its correlation with cosmology, the debates over non-cognitive states, the endlessly varied terminology the English term “meditation” masks, the arguments over the modern mindfulness movement, and so forth. I encourage students to seek out meditation clubs or to sit on their own time, but I dutifully omit much meditation practice in class. Perhaps when I discuss the Seven Point Vairocana Posture and ānāpānasmṛti (Mindfulness of Breathing) will I ask students to briefly engage in sitting – to get the flavor of it.

Part of this reasoning is simply practical. Much of my lecturing on the history of meditation was developed while students were actively engaged in sitting regularly during the Woodenfish program. My lectures tried to give context to their practice – they did not need me to teach them the practice as well.

Buoyed by the potential expectations of my students who planned to meet in the dance hall, I decided to introduce what I had been calling Mind Labs – quick and simple exercises to help get students to develop their own personal phenomenology of mind. (I suppose one could call these Thought Experiments too, but I prefer Mind Labs…)

For example, when the Abhidharmists claim that mental events can only occur in quick succession, and not simultaneously, I prefer to do an exercise which asks students to determine what they think first. Another question I like to ask is whether or not students always have an affective coloring to their thoughts (for Theravādin Abhidharmists, unless a highly achieved practitioner, the answer is typically “yes”).

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Slide introducing a Mind Lab Exercise

For all Mind Lab questions I ask that students write down responses and hand them in to me for tallying. I try to quantify the results the best that I can and identify patterns of belief. During our next meeting I will have a small discussion about the results and try to relate the discussion back to the “standard” Buddhist position.

Thus while I do not typically engage in much meditation practice during class time, I feel that there are numerous other philosophical exercises of mind that may touch upon similar aspects.

Zen and the Art of Multiple Choice Exams

Multiple choice exams are universal on college campuses. But how do they stack up against other kinds of assessment, especially in courses where higher-level thinking (application, analysis, evaluation), and not mere memorization (recognition and recall), are emphasized?

Crafting good multiple choice (MC) stems (questions) and conceiving plausible distractors (wrong answers) are skills in themselves. Yet, when artfully done, MC exams can be effective in testing higher-level cognitive abilities – it just takes time and effort in the creation process.

A few years ago it dawned on me that students could shoulder some of these question-crafting responsibilities to good pedagogical effect.

Coming up with plausible – dare I say artful? – distractors is part of the practice I so thoroughly enjoy about writing MC exams. I try to imagine the reasons why a student may choose a incorrect answer: is X conceptually close to Y?, is it easy to confuse X for Y?, is X actually the opposite of Y?, does X actually negate Y?, is X spelled similarly as Y?, and so forth. These questions develop the pool of candidates from which I select distractors that are, for the most part, plausible and rationally derived.

Indeed, through this very exercise of crafting questions with good distractors I’ve built a better understanding of the relationships between concepts and a better appreciation of where conceptual pitfalls might appear. In other words, this activity helped me build a network of reinforced meanings which allowed me to better understand the materials at hand. This is precisely what I want students to do!

Thus, I decided to unveil a new extra-credit option for my Zen Buddhism class: students can craft five of their own MC questions following the criteria I set out for them. Some may be used on our midterm and final exams. From my perspective, this exercise has the following benefits:

  1. Students create their own webs of meaning between conceptually similar ideas or confusing terms. Creating plausible distractors causes students to study in a new manner.
  2. Students post their MC questions on an online forum and thus have the opportunity to take student-created mini practice tests.
  3. By selecting a handful of the best questions for class MC exams, students feel they had a sense of agency in the learning process.
  4. It can save time on my end in crafting MC questions.

Multiple choice exams will never replace the value of writing sustained, well-reasoned prose, but having students write well-reasoned multiple choice questions is a step in the same direction.


Review

Overall, about 50% of my class took me up on the extra-credit offer. I provided a hand-out outlining the requirements of a good question and an “artful” set of distractors. I offered 5 extra credit points for five well-crafted questions and sets of answers. I retained the option to withhold extra credit points should a question-answer set not be handled with sufficient attention to the directions. All submissions met my basic criteria and all students received full extra-credit.

Many of the MC questions did not match my highest standards – but, honestly, not all of my questions are perfect! Several were thoughtful and well-crafted and thus were incorporated into our exams.

Would I do anything different in the future? I would consider having students explain why they selected each distractor, laying bare the relationships I noted above or other critical logic. If I wanted to take this creative exercise more seriously, I could require students to produce MC questions, perhaps first as drafts, and practice with them during class review sessions before exams.

Rhetorical Contexts: Who is the Audience?

I did not learn genre theory in my college composition classes, so when it was introduced to me at UCSB I was unsure of its application outside of just being another provocative theory.

I’ve come to realize how the right approach to genre theory paints writing as a social practice, and when mastered, turns writing into a powerful and eminently practical skill. Part of genre analysis requires an assessment of the rhetorical situation, which is dissected in various ways by theorists and scholars, but always incorporates the element of intended audience.

When writers write they typically write for an imagined audience, and this largely dictates the choice they make while writing. Thus, while it is possible for anyone with an internet connection to read a blog post, depending on how it is written it may draw in certain audiences and drive away others. Those that come and stay would be the target audience (or intended audience) of a blog post.

When deciding to perform genre analysis on news genres, I was searching for another way to think about intended audience rather than the standard focus on demographics like age, ethnicity, gender, income, region, education, and so forth. After chatting with my writing advisor, Chris Dean, whose interests involve the critical analysis of urban legends and conspiracy theories, he highlighted the recurring issue of confirmation bias at the heart of all legend trippers and conspiracy theorists. This provided at least another way to view the audience of moderately (even grossly) biased Soft News articles, those looking to confirm their personal perspective on certain topics.

cognitive-biasThis lead me down a train of thought which wanted to play with audience and several other types of cognitive biases. In other words, how do certain cognitive biases direct what and how we read? I was reminded of the fabulous chart, originally posted by blogger Buster Benson.

I was surprised at how many other cognitive biases are similar to confirmation bias.

  • Anchoring Bias: People are over reliant on the first piece of information they obtain
  • Conservatism Bias: People favor prior evidence over new evidence
  • Choice-Support Bias: People favor a choice they have made even if it has flaws
  • Availability Heuristic: People overestimate the importance of information that is available to them

I gave the chart to my class and asked them to ponder some aspects of it to foster creativity in defining who the audience of news articles may be. I will say, however, for each person who is subconsciously looking to confirm his or her bias, there may very well be another person who is consciously looking to understand the “Other side” in order to challenge his or her own biases.

UPDATE: While the above chart is detailed and comprehensive, it may be too comprehensive for many to find a nice toe-hold. The more highly selective chart below may be a better alternative.

20-Cognitive-Biases

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