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Cockroaches and Balloons:
Weiningerian Reactions to a Distractionist, ii

[back to part i]

Ultimately, what possible difference could it make to understand why Weininger did what he did…or to speculate on What It Means? If [Luno] were sitting in a doctor’s office listening to her explain to him why he only has a few days to live…would he be thinking about Weininger’s suicide?

Actually, I almost had this experience! And yes Weininger was not far off in my thoughts. I kept thinking, will I have time left to spell out my thoughts on his significance? Whew! That was close! Here’s a quote from my notebook at the time: ….. [See Luno’s Notebook XI: iridescent blossoms, sec. 55.]

I guess it wasn’t serious after all, that little noise the doctors heard from my heart. At least, I’m still here. My opinion about men who actually commit suicide as opposed to those who persist in lingering like me is that the former are just fast workers. Our vocation, our task, us lingerers, is never done—we just keep procrastinating every step of the way. No wonder it takes us often a full lifetime to pull it off—those few of us who do. I’m convinced that if you doubled our terms here we’d use it all and accomplish even less. Weininger, writing a book at age 22 that changed the world, was one fast dude.

This is what perplexes me most about him [Luno]. It is the manner in which he seems to take all this seriously … as though it were essential or necessary that he get to the bottom of one man’s death. As though the answer does indeed have some sort of exchange value for the rest of us. As though philosophy can actually tell us!!!

He drowned in meaning his last night in the apartment where Beethoven died.

When all is said and done what has been clearly revealed [at least to me] is just [Luno’s] own theoretical predilections. And I would very [be] curious to understand why he feels compelled to harbor them…to pursue them so zealously in an absurd and meaningless world.

In other words, moral logic is just an oxymoron to me. Weininger shot himself. Another man would not have. The rest is just shadows and fog.

Shadows and fog, yes…

When one is in a fog, which another knows very well as such, and catches sight of a terrifying form…, so is the other mentally aware of the situation. And it is beautiful. He is free! To the former–unconscious–it is evil, threatening to freedom, horrific.

(Weininger, op cit., p.66)


What is this based on? Is it an example of intuitive communication or are there broad studies confirming the enormous gap between male and female ego and arrogance—and the nature of the gap?

“Broad studies”? Am I saying something controversial that I need a study, broad or narrow? Am I daring some scientific hypothesis?

It’s time for a lesson in basic epistemology and the philosophy of language… Most claims purporting to convey information fall into classes of which the following are emblematic:

i. There is life on mars.

ii. All bachelors are unmarried.

iii. The sky is blue on a sunny day.

My claim—that women and men if they are “equal” in any sense that makes them or their opinions interchangeable are so only in the “privacy of their own minds”— is what kind of claim? Is it an empirical claim like i.? or like iii.? Certainly, not a logical (analytic) one like ii.

I am saying that men and women are different in every conceivable way. That even when we think we perceive similarities, we are conveniently refusing to look closely. That’s not quite an obvious claim (though it can be made out that it is, I shall not attempt it here) so let me retreat to just the obvious differences, since these are all that is necessary to the point about criminality: things like the form of genitalia and the differing propensity for destruction as well as women’s and men’s attitudes about it. I do this because subtlety is not required to make my point. It will stand or fall very quickly depending on how insane one of us is.

The warrant for my claim that women and men are different in what they value is that it is meant to be obvious in the same way as iii. above. G. E. Moore once famously held up his hands in front of an audience of skeptical philosophers and said he knew he had two hands and that therefore there was a world external to the “privacy of his own mind”. He knew this because the certainty of his conclusion—that he had two hands—was greater than any he could possibly invest in the premises of any argument put forth that might argue otherwise. This was another way of saying that if he was really wrong about having two hands, the game was over. He might as well believe anything. His certainty was that unassailable this side of insanity.

No induction, scientific or otherwise, could persuade him he was wrong. A thousand corroborating studies by reputable researchers, impeccably executed, with the broadest samples and peer-reviewed in the most respected journals would sooner cause him to doubt his mental competence than undermine his faith in the fact that he had two hands.

Wittgenstein, commenting on Moore’s gesture, called statements like “I have two hands” when uttered by most people framework or background propositions. These are special bits of knowledge upon which we build all else that we think we know. (Actually, Wittgenstein didn’t want to call them “knowledge” at all, rather “certitudes” that any knowledge presupposes.) I may build a house of cards on a brick, and the house may or may not collapse but the brick remains. In the event of collapse, I still have a foundation on which to build another, hopefully less vulnerable, house. But take away my brick, put me in the middle of the ocean, treading water, and ask me to do the same—and all is lost. These claims are not ordinary empirical claims, vulnerable to falsification; they are in a class that is resistant to being falsified by anything in one’s known or conceivable world. (It’s not the particular claim that one has two hands that is so certain. An amputee may know with exactly the same certitude otherwise. It’s the foundation “certitude.”)

“There is life on mars” is a statement we fully expect to discover to be true or false someday. And our world will not fall apart whichever way it goes. That I have two hands, that the sky is blue on a sunny day, and, I claim, that women and men perceive morality, like everything else, in a radically different, almost untranslatable way—are such propositions.

If you doubted that the sky is blue on a sunny day because I couldn’t produce studies to prove it, I would be at a loss. There are scientific hypotheses that correlate the scattering of electromagnetic radiation with a wavelength of 475 newton-meters in the earth’s atmosphere with the utterance of “blue” by speakers of English. But hard as you may look, you will not find any study that proves the connection or even attempts to prove it. Science doesn’t deal in such imprecise terms as “blue”. It is not at all obvious to the physicist, as a scientist, that the sky is blue on a sunny day. In fact, he will say, it is not; what science tells us is this: electromagnetic radiation with a wavelength of 475 newton-meters is scattered in the earth’s atmosphere and we experience this whenever the part of the surface of the earth we stand on is facing the sun and atmospheric conditions are conducive to electromagnetic radiation penetrating to that surface.

The only gesture one can make to support propositions of the third sort is to point and say “Look!” and hope the person being addressed is not blind or insane—or, as I suspect to be the case—in the grip of some thinly disguised ideology about power or equality or the lack thereof. That ideology may be nothing more sinister than the impulse to get by, to find some comfort in distraction…but it is nevertheless an impediment to development.

(But who cares about development? To return to that question about what I am doing here if not unearthing some shattering new insight that changes the world forever? I’m only doing this, not because I have any burning desire to enhance your development or anyone else’s (yes, I know “hope” is like a cockroach and will not be permanently exterminated, still cockroaches make me queasy)—but because, like any good scout, I am doing my duty.)

One of the virtues of being a philosopher, as opposed to a scientist, is that, like the simpleton or the child, you only feel the need to deal in the obvious: the plain sight of stones just as they lie are sufficient to spur curiosity without needing the extra mystique of what may lie underneath them.


…. And what I tend to pull from it is the way in which it seems to lump all women together and all men together.

Another heckler shouts from the back, “But real women and men are not stereotypes! All men are not the same. All women are not the same. What about so and so?…”

Suppose I was kidnapped and locked away in some windowless cell until I had lost all sense of time and only after a long period—when weeks or months or years might have transpired—was I then briefly exposed to a blinding daylight on an ordinary city street. How would I determine the season of the year? Most likely the first thing to strike me would be the temperature. Nine times out of ten, this would be all I need to come to a quick conclusion.

But suppose the temperature was 62 degrees Fahrenheit. Having lived in the Pacific Northwest, I know this could be a warm day in January or a cool day in June. Or in any number of months in between. I would need to look a little closer at the angle of the sun, the quality of light, the color of vegetation, the way others dressed, and perhaps at a thousand other possible signs from the patent to the subtle—but it would probably not take long to make a reasonable guess without being told or consulting a calendar.

What allows for these deductions?

As I said, more often than not, the answer would more or less hit you in the face. Sometimes it would take a little longer; rarely very long. A glance around and the texture of the air typically suffice. Why?

Because the seasons are characterized above all by temperature and its effects on all other variables.

Similarly with distinguishing women and men and their doings…because humans and their artifacts are characterized above all by sex and its effects on all other variables.

To be told that not all men are the same, nor are women, is to be told, oddly enough, that all men are the same and all women are the same—only they are not boringly so. (I have my doubts about how “interesting” they are, but I’ll save them for another time.) Something very big and overriding must be the same about all men for us to be able to even talk about “all men”: namely, their maleness. Even the most effete male transvestite apes the gestures of a woman in a way that fools nobody—but then that’s the point. A man is clearly acting like a woman.

What I presume is meant by our heckler is that certain traits, say, criminality, are not the exclusive purview of men. That ladies, too, shoplift, write bad checks, and sell their bodies… (or maybe these aren’t choice examples because it seems women have a knack for these specific misdeeds, and if that’s true, then these are “women’s crimes,” but this is exactly what I shouldn’t be stressing, if the goal is to look for commonalities) .

We encounter two strategies to avoid facing the difference:

One is to define criminality broadly: Crime is crime, women are just as aggressive as men, maybe nature has excused them from the brute force end of it, but there is always psychological and emotional blackmail, and don’t they excel at it, right?

The other is to admit men do the lion’s share of most crimes, and certainly the heinous crimes, but take even the worst and you will find some woman somewhere who has done it, too. So they are equally as capable.

Crime like any worthwhile endeavor is an equal opportunity game. And women can and do participate in it, specializing in those types their constitutions are most suited for. Ergo, this is not a trait specific to men. And so on. Pick anything else—artistic, scientific, etc., achievement, you name it—you’ll find some women somewhere who can and have done it as well…

If there are differences of frequency, those are the result of socialization. (Of an extraordinarily effective sort, we must add.)

So, the inference goes, there are no important intrinsic differences between men and women. The differences we think we see are cultural. Things might have worked out just the opposite. Just look at this isolated tribe of south sea islanders, shielded from the distorting influences of corrupted Western values. The men in this tribe willingly clean up after meals, care for children, and the women train for war. The men never leave the toilet seat down. (Better, they solved, or rather, precluded that problem by not inventing toilet seats in the first place—a bourgeois sexist gadget if ever there was one. They squat cleanly over holes in the ground just like the ladies.) It could have turned out that way here with us, too. Case closed. There are no men or women, just folks malleable by social environments.

This Ruth Benedict/Margaret Mead idea was once very popular in the social sciences. Today, cultural relativism, while still a viable idea useful for combating naïve parochialism, has been largely superseded by more sophisticated views that exempt fundamental ethics from the dizzy realm of relativism. The problem was this: many anthropologists, motivated by generous and humble impulses, wanted badly not to judge “primitive” cultures harshly. They wanted to compare them favorably with ours. They wanted to say nice things about them because they thought we could stand to learn a few lessons from them, no matter that some of these “primitives” were cannibals or liked sharpening their knives on the bones of strangers. But at least they didn’t engage in organizing world-wide orgies of mass destruction, etc… Scientists who studied human societies wanted to say: who are we to think our culture is invested with faultless insight into what is and is not ultimately humanly valuable?

The trouble is that (as we drum into the heads of college ethics students) unless one looks hard for and accepts some culture-neutral standards of morality one is in no better position to praise than to blame. All you are certified to do is to mutter: “People do the darnedest things!” and move on to the next spectacle. This realization hit one of the founders of cultural relativism, Ruth Benedict, with a vengeance in the aftermath of revelations of Nazi atrocities. She had opened the door wide for her critics to say: “We can’t blame them for what they believed about and did to Jews. It was their culture and within their belief system it all made perfect sense. Who are we to ride in on our high-horse?” Benedict had worked very hard for decades on intercultural understanding, but in the wake of these attacks she finally changed her mind—at least about ethical relativism. Some aspects of culture, at least, it seems, are not a function of social environment.

[A side note: Both Benedict and Mead knew and read Weininger (as did just about every intellectual in the first half of the 20th century). I am not saying they approved of (or fully understood, for that matter) what he said, just that they felt compelled, as most, to react to him. Mead called her most famous book Sex and Temperament. I think she had every intention to counter Weininger, specifically. There is actually a letter where Benedict, writing to her friend and sometime lover, Mead, complains about her (Benedict’s) husband, Stanley, and her (Benedict’s) then lover, Tom Mount. The complaint was that these men both talked a lot like Weininger. They asserted universal bisexuality and then went on to put down women as though whatever was depreciable in women was not equally so in men. (If true, and I can believe it, Stanley and Tom didn’t read their Weininger very carefully either; few did or do.) The point here is she didn’t even have to say “Otto”; she wrote like they and everybody in their circle knew who “Weininger” was.]

In my undergraduate days, I was a student of history and anthropology and wrote a thesis on cultural clashes between natives of the North American central plains and early white settlers. I included the following little anecdote. I think I found it amusing at the time; I couldn’t have predicted the significance I will give it now:

In the earliest days of contact, there was actually some friendliness; things weren’t as bloody as they would later become. This is a story from that time. An Indian woman (yes, they were called “Indians,” not “Native Americans” by white folks then) from a nearby encampment of Comanche approached a white settler woman on her homestead, busy hanging her laundry, surrounded by her six children, one still hanging from her breast. The settler woman was obliged to run the homestead alone for weeks or months at a time while her husband was away in the army. The haggard woman had to bring in the harvest, tend, wash up after, and feed her brood, mend everything that broke or tore, and with no one around to help. The Comanche squaw, who had spent some time as a girl with a missionary and knew a little English, commented on the extraordinary cruelty of white men. They saddled their women with all this work and then left to go fight Indians. She added that Indian men also spent most of their time away from home hunting and fighting, but at least they were considerate enough to arrange having several wives so that between them they could share in the care of children and domestic tasks and comfort each other. She and her co-wives were never overwhelmed; there was always some one of them to spell the other at the hard and thankless tasks of being a woman. They were always there for each other in the long periods of loneliness. “Why don’t you insist that he take more wives?” she suggested to the white woman.

Feminism takes different forms in different cultures. Just this past year I had the opportunity to tutor a class in contemporary philosophy of feminism. Included were readings from third world, post-colonial feminists from India, Africa, Latin America, and Asia. Stories not unlike this of our early 19th century feminist squaw are still being heard today. As more and more of these women are fitting themselves into our societies, feminism remains alive and well but it is taking forms many now “native” middle-class white women of the second feminist wave (of the Gloria Steinem, Germaine Greer type.) are having a difficult time conceiving. What a non-Euro-centric feminism has to say about the Western white woman’s notion of what it is women really want will of course be determined by a different cultural environment. This idea of equal opportunity to do the same things as men—a very recent and very Western notion—only goes so far before it begins to sound like a bit of cultural imperialism. Culture certainly determines a great deal about how we picture a desirable state of affairs.

That is to say, culture determines culture. It does not determine biology. (Not yet anyway.) And if biology still has the last word, it determines the fundaments of culture: the set of values that undergirds everything else. This is called morality.

What remains the same for women of every known culture is that men oppress them (or will if the culture is not so structured as to compensate for the inevitable attempt). This sameness, it is finally dawning on them, is not the result of cultural indoctrination. Style of abuse or oppression, yes, but not the impulse. Tell me that the men in this or that tribe in this or that forgotten corner of the globe (or, for that matter, this or that political ideology) are not abusive of the feminine estate and I will nod my head and say “Good boys!”

Rosalind Hursthouse, a philosopher who wrote a paper on abortion widely taught these days, says in one place that “nature bears harder on women.” She means that there is nothing comparable in a man’s life to what a woman experiences when she is pregnant and simple importations from male morality (from classical liberalism, specifically) such as “a woman ought to have control over her body” are woefully inadequate as descriptions of the real quandaries that bear on women and only women. In an even broader sense than she probably meant, I think she is right.

Hot Air BalloonBut I think the heavens bear down harder on men. All that he does seems bent on leaving a trail behind him of achievement and/or destruction: a legacy in the form of a résumé or dossier to impress or provoke some authority not of this world. No creature here below does he really give a damn about. He is never quite—as the Renaissance philosopher, Pico della Mirandola said—“happy in the lot of any created thing.” [The line is quoted approvingly by Weininger in Sex and Character, p 185.] He is just passing through on his way somewhere over the rainbow with Kant in his balloon. This difference in bearing defines everything.

You don’t have to believe in God to be harried by heterocosmic specters. You just have to want to make a point that has nothing to do with being alive but with leaving a mark. That mark may be as creative or destructive as you like. That or suffer despair at failing to leave a mark and begin to crave non-existence or dissolution. Bertrand Russell wrote, near the end of his useful philosophical life, “…all human knowledge is uncertain, inexact, and partial. To this doctrine we have not found any limitation whatever.” [Human Knowledge: Its Scope and Limits, p. 527.] But what had he spent the previous 76 years of his life doing? Precisely this: trying to lay down the law about human knowledge. Whatever got it into his head from the beginning that he had a mission to engage in any such enterprise? Who needs God when you’ve got “objective mathematical truth”? There have been great women mathematician/philosophers—Hypatia comes to mind—but none would ever have thought to found a belief system on anything so divorced from some service to human welfare. When Russell lost his youthful “Pythagorean faith,” which had nurtured him during the most fruitful period of his early philosophical life, he was more or less washed up as a philosopher. The rest of his long life he spent as a social or political activist, when not womanizing or scribbling more than seventy books of drivel.

One thing we learn from Russell’s humble remark: how arrogant it is. This is typical of male pronouncements of humility. Never is a man so arrogant as when he is telling you how he has failed and then talks like no one else could succeed either.


Ultimately, there may be more truth in the notion of “cultural relativism” than Benedict could ever have imagined. Only there are not “the many” cultures she imagined but two—and just two: the feminine and the masculine. And if there is an overarching moral vision that encompasses both we have yet to make it out. Instead we have a lot of hot air and no balloon.


Is it possible that women abuse and oppress men too? Perhaps in a non-physical but no less evil manner that they themselves seem incapable of seeing? How much pettiness can a man stand before he gets violent, or feels justified in indulging that pre-existing propensity in himself?

These are questions that women must ask of themselves. They really do need to question whether “the gift of life” they so unthinkingly bestow on the planet (at least when the gift takes the form of “boys”) is more a curse and less the blessing they are only too susceptible to believing. This is what morality, their own, requires of women: that they re-examine their contribution to misery in the world. You have to be blind not to see his.

I don’t believe that women, as a class, were they to trade places with men in the scheme of power distribution, would prove one bit more responsible than men have shown themselves to be in the end… But the character of evil would change.

There are three reasons why the character of evil should change:

1. …because her native ethics demands it. Because she owes it to herself and the rest of the world to insist that the set of values nearest to her heart are taken into account in the way the human world around her functions. She must, against her very real instincts, cut out some of this cheerleader shit. Miya Masaoka - RitualSo it heartens me—causes a few cockroaches to scurry among the private ruins of my own mind—to read of women like Sylviane Agacinski, who dare to suggest that women and men are not in any but the most vacuous sense “equal,” that every hall of power must—by law—be staffed with women at least half the time, that every other tyrant be a woman, because men and women are not interchangeable and in a (for what it’s worth) “representative” democracy no man can ever represent a woman, not even for a second.

Or like June Stephenson, a woman who tells it like it is with respect to the enormous, all-pervading phenomena of male criminality. It is curious the attention a woman gets for committing a fabulous crime (e.g., Mary Kay LeTourneau, Martha Stewart). So bored, so inured we are with men doing it that her paltry efforts at saying “me, too” get a disproportionate rise out of us. (I’m not sure if we are just being chivalrous to give these ladies so much attention or if our motives are more sinister; as a man, with an instinct to trash, I suspect the latter.) Men do crime. They, not us indiscriminately, Stephenson suggests, should pay for it. Hence: “man-tax”.

2. …because his native ethics demands it. Here is where Weininger comes in with his sweet Kantian madness. He announced rather unfashionably (even then) that only men could be moral. Women were incapable of it. That sounds rude, doesn’t it?… Well, Weininger was a philosopher, let me remind you. That means he is bound by the logic of his words, by the governing principles he has premised in a way ordinary polemicists, artists, and even scientists who mouth off typically are not. If he hadn’t stayed true to these principles, he would not be worthy of our attention. In fact, not very many philosophers, even otherwise great ones, pull it off. Even Kant, I am afraid, failed. (His problem may have been that he just lived too long, his feminine side triumphing.) The logic of the concept, as Weininger understood it, also implied that only men can be immoral—in case you didn’t pick up on it. And that is the key to male criminality. If only men can be moral, it’s because only men need to be moral. And the only morality in play here, indeed, the only one there is, if Weininger was right, was the masculine one. This insight struck Weininger like a ton of bricks. (It had the consequences of being struck by a ton of bricks, too… (As a boy, I was struck by three bricks on the head. It hurt. We can only imagine what else it did.))

What is man’s business here anyway? It cannot be the same as hers. Nature has her marching orders hardwired into the cells of her body. He, by contrast, seems an afterthought. He must somehow write his own job description, train himself to carry it out, and then actually carry it out. Quite frankly, he has a lot working against him, not least among them: his own feminine side. That part of him that would love to just go along for the ride as she may be excused for doing. And if that were not enough to put him off track there is the despair of ever realizing the demands of the skyscraping masculine imperative tied to principle and rule, whether purified in Kant’s “Moral Law” or diffused in some vague sense of “integrity” or “mission”. He is supposed to be good to the world without being personally invested in it the way she is. He is to show respect for what he didn’t create and did not especially want to see created. He must overcome his born resentment and serve—at least the Moral Law if not directly his fellow beings. At least by deriving some reason for serving from what he can bring himself to respect—those aureate glows on the horizon—if not from some congenital instinct for connection or solidarity. At least Kant, if not quite Hume.

And how does this bear on his relation to material power? Hitler and Mussolini both allegedly kept Weininger’s book as bedside reading. But I guess this page was missing from their copies:

Men of action, famous politicians and generals, may possess a few traits resembling genius (particularly a specially good knowledge of men and an enormous capacity for remembering people). The psychology of such traits will be dealt with later; they are confused with genius only by those whom the externals of greatness dazzle. The man of genius almost typically renounces such external greatness because of the real greatness within him. The really great man has the strongest sense of values; the distinguished general is absorbed by the desire for power. The former seeks to link power with real value; the latter desires that power itself should be valued. Great generals and great politicians, like the bird of Phoenix, are born out of fiery chaos and like it disappear again in the chaos. The great emperor or the great demagogue is the only man who lives entirely in the present; he does not dream of a more beautiful, better future; his mind does not dwell on his own past which has already passed, and so in the two ways most possible to man, he does not transcend time, but lives only in the moment. The great genius does not let his work be determined by the concrete finite conditions that surround him, whilst it is from these that the work of the statesman takes its direction and its termination. And so the great emperor is no more than a phenomenon of nature, whereas the genius is outside nature and is an incorporation of the mind. The works of men of action crumble at the death of their authors, if indeed they have not already decayed, or they survive only a brief time leaving no traces behind them except what the chronicles record as having been done and later undone. The emperor creates no works that survive time, passing into eternity; such creations come from genius. It is the genius in reality and not the other who is the creator of history, for it is only the genius who is outside and unconditioned by history. The great man has a history, the emperor is only a part of history. The great man transcends time; time creates and time destroys the emperor.

[Sex and Character, Part II, Chapter 5, p. 139, par. 357 of the Heinemann (anonymous) translation.]

(“Genius,” by the way, for Weininger, as later for Wittgenstein, was a moral predicate: An act of courage, not to be confused with a profusion of “talent.”)

Every man has his own little inner Hitler or Mussolini (or, in some cases, Stalin—me? I have an inner Bin Laden, captivated as I was by the David and Goliath story as a boy). The moral business of men is to combat him by remembering that the world is her house. He is always guest in her house. Always hers, always guest. Morality, for him, consists of having the manners of a good guest.

Instead, he does all he can to trash her house.

It seems the very least he can do—if he cannot bring himself to kill himself, i.e., leave—is to let her have her way around her world half the time.

3. …because, if there is such a thing, “human decency” demands it… I was going to say something like “human morality,” but I think there is far more evidence that God exists than there is that “humans,” irrespective of sex, do, or that “morality” could mean anything in a world of generic de-sexed primates. The only “higher” principle I can make out (though just barely) is really aesthetic. It is the capacity to appreciate beauty. As applied to thinking, it is called “logic.” To human behavior, “ethics.” But these are both narrow applications of the more general concept of aesthetics. (Wittgenstein: “Ethics and aesthetics are one.” And before him, Weininger: “Logic and morality are one.”) The ideas of symmetry and composition and an appreciation for them might predispose one to think that it would be nice if people behaved with a certain symmetrical reciprocity…

But is there a snowball’s chance in Hell this principle (the sensory or intellectual appeal of it) shall ever win the day?

Why should it matter? The case is overdetermined. I never meant to say anything quite so subtle.


Whenever the terms “sex” and “morality” come up in the same conversation, it almost always is morality holding the whip. I am saying that it is, in fact, the other way around.

Bianco Luno
22 November 2004

Posted by luno in Mill, J. S., male criminality, Kant, feminism, Weininger, Moral Theory, General (Saturday December 4, 2004 at 7:12 am)

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