The Bodhicaryavatara / Santideva -- Crosby and Skilton, trans., Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995

The eighth century Indian monk Santideva ranks among Buddhism's greatest writers.  His most important work is a ten-chapter poem entitled The Bodhicaravatara (Introduction to the Practice of the Bodhisattva) which concisely expresses the highest ideals and philosophy of the Mahayama tradition. 

The Four Noble Truths are rightly understood as a central -- if not the central -- concepts in Buddhism. Those truths are accepted and venerated by all Buddhists; however, for the Mahayana tradition, the concept of the bodhisattva is equally important.  The bodhisattva is a being that has vowed to forever work for the enlightenment of all sentient beings.  This amounts to a rejection of the earlier Buddhist traditions which sought to train monks to achieve their own individual enlightenment.  

The first step in following the path of the bodhisattva is "bodhicitta," i.e., taking a vow to seek the enlightenment of all sentient beings.  Santideva explores a distinction between two forms of bodhicitta: (1) making the determination to follow the path of the and (2) in fact setting out on the path of the bodhisattva.  He goes on to explain the characteristics of a bodhisattva which Buddhists have come to name "the six perfections:" generosity, obedience to the moral law, patience or forbearance, energy, meditative stability, and wisdom.  

The perfection of wisdom is the highest of these virtues.  Santideva provides a seminal treatment of wisdom in the nineth and longest chapter of the poem. Wisdom requires a bodhisattva both to exercise the other five virtues and it is necessary for the perfection of those virtues.  Most of all, gaining wisdom requires a true understanding of the world.  Crucially, this requires a deep and intuitive understanding of "sunyata," usually translated as "emptiness," and the understanding that all things are empty.  

Early Buddhist traditions do make mention of sunyata, but its first full expression appeared in the work of the second century Madhyamaka Buddhist writer Nagarjuna.  Santideva's treatment of sunyata is an excellent, concise treatment of Nagarjuna's formulation.

In the course of the work, Santideva presents a method by which one can develop compassion for others, known as "the exchange of self and others."  It is based on the idea that to achieve a sympathetic disposition toward all sentient beings, one should proceed in stages.  First, one should imagine that the well-being of someone you love, someone very close to you, is as important as your own well-being.  This should not be hard.  One should then go on to imagine the same is true for others not so close to you and then imagine the same for people for whom you have neutral feelings.  Finally, you should imagine that the well-being of people you dislike is as important as your own well-being.  By engaging in this exercise, one can develop compassion for all sentient beings and work more easily for their enlightenment. 

There are few works more important to the history of Buddhism than The Bodhicaryavatra. It is especially important to Tibetan Buddhism and is often mentioned by the Dalai Lama as the most influential work to his own thinking.    

The Offensive Internet: Speech, Privacy, and Reputation / Saul Levmore and Martha C. Nussbaum, eds. -- Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2010

The following are excerpts from a review that is forthcoming in The Journal of Information Ethics.

Most of us learned at an early age that “sticks and stones will break your bones, but names will never harm you,” but we also discovered that the saying was often cold comfort. Disregarding verbal abuse or defamatory remarks is not easy. Fortunately, we usually are able to find a more or less adequate way of responding to insults, if only to allow the passage of time to dull the pain. The Internet has made this much more difficult. On the web, insults, defamation, and invasions of privacy can immediately spread to a world-wide audience and last seemingly in perpetuity. The Offensive Internet: Speech, Privacy, and Reputation, edited by Saul Levmore and Martha Nussbaum, presents thirteen chapters that address harm, speech, and privacy issues raised by the Internet. The authors are, with a few exceptions, law professors at some of the leading U.S. law schools. So unsurprisingly, the chapters are consistently of high quality. They approach the issues at various levels of abstraction, ranging from philosophical discussions to examinations of concrete instances of harm. Most of the authors advocate specific legislative or judicial remedies for the harms under discussion.

...

First Amendment absolutist certainly will find the treatment of free speech in The Offensive Internet inadequate. Their judgment is likely to be based on a high assessment of the importance of speech and the slippery slope that regulation poses. Some may downplay the gravity of the harms that occur on the internet, making the dangers of censorship relatively greater. Their critique, however, needs to address the important distinctions made in The Offensive Internet, particularly in the section on speech. An important hurdle that the critics will need to overcome is the growing maturity of the Internet. In its initial manifestation, the Internet was shielded from regulation in order to promote its promise for enhanced, democratic communication. Today, however, it is perhaps the primary medium of mass communication around the world. As such, it no longer needs special protections. It is now appropriate to employ the widely accepted methods of holding Internet posters accountable for speech that would otherwise fall outside of First Amendment protection.

...

In general, The Offensive Internet is a valuable exploration of some of the more unpleasant aspects of unregulated speech and the consequences that follow from situations in which people can be unaccountable for their behavior. Fortunately, the authors offer us an impressive variety of means to address the problems. The volume does not, however, adequately address two important issues. The first has already been mentioned: protections against harms, protections of the freedom of speech, and protections of privacy can only be established equitably when the relative vulnerability of the parties is recognized. The early chapters’ emphasis on harms to women and minority groups is a move in the right direction, but the recognition of power dynamics tends to disappear in later chapters which seem to assume a power-blind approach. This is particularly clear in the chapters on privacy and reputation. An equitable legal regime should more completely protect the privacy of individuals, while leaving powerful institutions, like government agencies and major corporations, open to public scrutiny.

The second important issue that is not sufficiently addressed is whether the internet entrenches false information or exhibits self-correcting tendencies. Several of the authors acknowledge the fact that assertions (true or false) reside on the web indefinitely, that misinformation is often intentionally posted on the web, and that people tend to post (or re-post) what they wish to be true rather than what is well-justified. At the same time, the on-going activity of editing and re-editing wikis and blogs can also allow for the slow construction of reliable information. If this latter feature of the web becomes more dominant, then the concerns over false information undermining corporate or even personal reputations should decreased. Addressing these epistemic questions, however, would enlarge significantly the scope of the work, but much could have been gained by including at least a chapter or two on the broader philosophical background that lies behind the legal concerns that are central to the work.

In all, The Offensive Internet is a valuable contribution to the understanding some of the effects the Internet is having on individuals and society, and it offers important critical analyses of the current speech regime that may be too liberal for the good of individuals and society. Above all, free speech absolutists would do well to read and reflect on the work.

Planning for Uncertainty: Living Wills and Other Advance Directives... / David John Doukas and William Reichel -- Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 2007

Medical science has reached a stage of development in which the ability to keep a person's body alive well outstrips its ability to maintain worthwhile cognitive functions. Consequently, irreversible comas, persistent vegetative states, and extended periods of unconsciousness during the final stages of an illness are increasingly common. This raises troubling questions for families and doctors regarding what sort of treatment is appropriate in such cases. In response, living wills, durable powers of attorney, and other advance directives have become increasingly popular. Still only a small percent of people draw up such instruments. Planning for Uncertainty: Living Wills and Other Advance Directives\ by Doukas and Riechel provides a useful guide to thinking about these critical situations and offers practical advice on drawing up an advance directive.

The work provides some background for the legal development of advance medical directives, but it's real strength is providing the reader with the opportunity to think carefully and systematically about issues that they might otherwise consider in a jumbled and confused way. However, when all is said and done, it seems that the purpose of most advance directives is to provide assurance to the doctors and family members of an unconscious patient that withholding or withdrawing treatment is a morally acceptable path. In some cases, it can also bind a family to withhold or withdraw treatment or establish obstacles to such a course.

There are numerous books of this sort in print. One may be as good as another. Anyone seeking to draw up an advance directive would be well advised to investigate the state laws that regulate such documents.

Beyond Religion: Ethics for a Whole World / His Holiness the Dalai Lama -- Boston: Houghton Miflin Harcourt, 2011

In the minds of many, religion and ethics are inextricably tied. The clearest connection of this sort is expressed in the divine command theory of ethics which holds that something is good or right because God has decreed that it is so. Ethics can, however, be tied to religion in a more sociological way. What is good or right is whatever is consistent with a particular religious practice or dogma. Atheists and agnostics have long objected to this way of characterizing ethics on the grounds that many who do not obey "the commands of God" or adhere to a particular religion have as robust a moral sense and can act as completely morally as any religious believer. Ethics on this view can have secular basis. In Beyond Religion the Dalai Lama argues quite persuasively for adopting a secular basis for morality, regardless of one's religious convictions. He presents a basis for morality which while not requiring religious commitment, is not inconsistent with most religious moralities.

For the Dalai Lama, ethics is grounded in human nature. He writes, "Ethics consists less of rules to be obeyed than of principles for inner self-regulation to promote those aspects of our nature which we recognize as conducive to our own well-being and that of others." He recommends that to be moral we should promote our natural dispositions toward compassion and discernment. By compassion, the Dalai Lama means "a motivation of genuine concern for others" and by discernment, he means the ability "to relate to situations in a manner that is in tune with reality." This "enables us to translate our good intentions into good outcomes."

While the first half of Beyond Religion is at pains to set aside any particular religious faith, the second half presents a specifically Buddhist approach to developing within oneself moral dispositions. This not to say that one must dogmatically accept Buddhism to agree with its prescriptions. Instead, the Dalai Lama presents his approach (Buddhist though it is) to the reader on its own terms. Accepting or rejecting the approach is to depend on how reasonable it seems to the reader.

The first step in developing these dispositions is to cultivate heedfulness, mindfulness, and awareness. This involves cautiously attending to one's patterns of thinking, speaking, and acting. The result is that we can eventually gain mastery of ourselves and limit our harmful behaviors. The Dalai Lama goes on to describe practical methods for translating heedfulness, mindfulness, and awareness into self-mastery, particularly in two chapters "Dealing With Destructive Emotions" and "Cultivating Key Inner Values." These chapters are informed not only by the author's deep understanding of Buddhist psychology, but by his interactions with Western psychologists, particularly Paul Ekman with whom he recently authored a book entitled, Emotional Awareness: Overcoming the Obstacles to Psychological Balance and Compassion (reviewed in the blog.)

In a time when religious believers and those committed to science are often at loggerheads, the Dalai Lama's example of recognizing the merits of both religion and science is important. He has been quoted as saying that if there is anything that is incompatible between Buddhism and modern science, then Buddhism will need to change. At the same time, he emphasizes the practicality of religion. Despite the horrors committed by misguided zealots, "faith is a force for good and can be tremendously beneficial....Religion gives hope and strength to those facing adversity..." and it offers "a vision of a good life which people can strive to emulate."

Beyond Religion is a beautifully written examination of relationships between religion, science, and ethics. It is filled with sage advice and sensitive judgements about contemporary social, political, and ethical issues. Most of all, it is an exquisitely useful handbook for developing one's capacities for compassion and discernment.

Brahma Net Sutra: Moral Code of the Bodhisattvas -- N.Y.: Sutra Tanslation Committee of the United States and Canada, 2000

The Brahma Net Sutra (or Brahmajala-sutra in Sanskrit) is among the most important sutras in the Buddhist canon, particularly for Mahayana Buddhists. Mahayana Buddhism developed in the first century C.E. and departed from the Buddhism of the past in a number of ways, most importantly in the development of the concept of the bodhisattva. Previously, the goal of the Buddhist monk was to become an arhat, i.e., to achieve personal enlightenment by following a strict code of conduct that dissolves all personal impurities. In contrast, the bodhisattva, inspired by the doctrine of the illusory nature of the self, sees no distinction between oneself and others and thus does not seek personal enlightenment. Instead, the bodhisattva seeks the enlightenment of all sentient beings.

The Brahma Net Sutra under review is translated from a Chinese version that was translated from Sanskrit by Kumarajiva (344-413). It presents a kind of Decalogue for the bodhisattva along with 48 other minor precepts. The ten major precepts are to avoid killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and false speech, selling alcoholic beverages, broadcasting the faults of the assembly, praising oneself and disparaging others, stinginess and abuse, anger and resentment, and slandering the Triple Jewel (the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha). Violation of any of these precepts merits expulsion from the Buddhist Order, though according to the translators of this text, in practice, the monk is permit to repent and reform.

The Brahma Net Sutra also presents 48 "secondary precepts" that range in gravity from harming sentient beings to violating seating arrangements in a Buddhist assembly. Most of these can be seen as corollaries of the ten major precepts.

As important as this sutra is to Mahayana Buddhism, it is striking how much of it pertains to personal conduct and obedience within the Order. Furthermore, much of it presents "negative duties," i.e., actions that the bodhisattva must not perform. There precious few "positive duties," i.e., actions that the bodhisattva must perform for the benefit of all sentient beings. Still, by respecting these precepts, a monk will likely develop the discipline and strength of character to exercise the benevolence that is characteristic of the bodhisattva.

The Thinking Life: How to Thrive in the Age of Distraction / P.M. Forni -- N.Y.: St. Martin's Press, 2011

A number of books have been published recently that warn of possible damaging effects of the internet and other digital communication technologies. Among them are Jaron Lanier's You Are Not a Gadget, Nicholas Carr's The Shallows, and John Miedema's Slow Reading. Lanier warns that social media are turning us into willing tools of database developers, coarsening our personalities, and diverting us from exploring the rich, multi-dimensional and nuanced life of the real world of people and tangible things. Nicholas Carr warns that the internet is a massive distraction machine that is shortening our attention spans and possibly changing the structure of our brains making us less able to engage in deep thought. Medeima exhalts the pleasures of combating these tendencies through the practice of reading extended, artfully written texts, slowly and deliberately.

P.M. Forni's new book The Thinking Life fits into this new and developing genera. It is less analytical and more practical than the others. While a good, practical guide would be of value, Forni's book too often lapses into the realm of the trite self-help book, making it of limited use to any reasonably thoughtful adult, i.e., someone thoughtful enough to read a book about thinking. It might, however, offer valuable lessons to an adolescent who over-values the ready information and profusion of content available on the internet.

In the early chapters, Forni describes two elements that are essential to serious thought: time and attention. He rightly observes that both are threatened by our contemporary fixation on the inconsequential trivia that is communicated via the internet and cell phone communication. He then describes two important forms of thought: reflection and introspection, the bane of which is distraction.

Following these chapters, the work begins to read more like an extended monologue in Hamlet by Polonius to his son Laertes. The advice Forni offers is largely commonplace and uncontroversial: how to be a good student, employee, or manager. There are, however, usually valuable kernels embedded within the advice. For example, Forni rightly observes (quoting the Buddha) that "We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world." However, his elaboration of this truth becomes little more than a rehash of the power of positive thinking. Elsewhere, he rightly recognizes the importance of cultivating self-control. This is followed by his trademark bulleted list of recommendations. The work becomes of a piece with The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and How to Win Friends and Influence People, both of which he cites favorably.

The superficiality of the work cannot, however, vitiate its core idea: deep, serious thought has significant benefits: it is intrinsically pleasurable, conducive to good decision making, and essential to a truly happy life in the Aristotelian sense. Furthermore, our ability to engage in deep, serious thought is being challenged by the explosion of the seductive, on line trivia that increasingly intrudes on our time.

Don't Think of an Elephant! Know Your Values and Frame the Debate / George Lakoff -- White River Junction, Vt.: Chelsea Green, 2004

In 1996, linguist George Lakoff published Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think in which he presented his theory that American politics is driven by two models of the family: the Strict Father Model and the Nurturing Parent Model. These models serve as frames for how conservatives and liberals respectively think, not just about family life, but also politics and other spheres of life. Lakoff argues that conservatives have implicitly recognized that emphasizing the values inherent in the Strict Father Model reinforces voters' tendency to employ these values when thinking about politics. After following this strategy for four decades, conservatives have established in the electorate a way of thinking about politics that prevents voters from accepting (and sometimes even understanding) the policies advanced by liberals.

Following the election of George W. Bush in 2000, a number of liberal activists began taking Lakoff seriously, helping him travel the country to talk about "framing" issues inside a liberal value system. By 2004, Lakoff published Don't Think of an Elephant to serve as "short and informal...practical guide both for citizen activists and for anyone with a serious interest in politics." Lakeoff hoped to equip liberals with an understanding of how to change the way in which political discourse is framed and thereby create a resurgent progressive movement. His book quickly showed up on best seller lists around the country.

On the surface, the basic thesis seems interesting and perhaps reasonable. Furthermore, Lakoff's ability to connect the values he identifies in the two family models to politics and public policy issues deepens his thesis. The values residing in the two family models have strong affinity to values that can be identified in various policy positions and they seem to bring together exactly those issues that constitute the constellations of conservative and liberal views. Finally, it is quite reasonable to think that our upbringing is central to our way of thinking and that specific values about families -- learned at an early age -- will play a dominant role in our thinking. No doubt there is very much to Lakoff's thesis; however, closer examination indicates that he is likely overstating the causative role that the family model plays in determining how Americans vote.

Lakoff's thesis could be tested were we able to replace our two-party system with a multi-party democracy. Currently, our political system nearly ensures that voters will only have two choices on the ballot, particularly because which ever candidate wins a plurality usually is elected to office. Moreover, restrictive ballot access laws frequently prevent independents and third parties from appearing on the ballot at all. This makes voting for anyone but a member of one of two major parties seem fruitless. Under these circumstances, voters, motivated by very different values and ideologies, are forced to join into a heterogeneous coalition to elect the candidate they find least objectionable. If there were more candidates on the ballot and if we had proportional representation in our legislatures, then these forced coalitions would quickly break up and the real factors motivating various voters would be more apparent.

Lakoff does not test his theory with this thought experiment. Instead, he looks at the two political coalitions and constructs a theory that best connects their various ideological elements and then declares that his theory explains the driving force behind the coalitions. It is more likely that the values making up the two family models are a rhetorical intersection views -- a least common denominator that appeals to a large percentage of the disparate members of the conservative or liberal coalitions. Without the need to motivate the disparate elements of the coalitions, these values would not stand out and many of them would be disregarded, if not openly attacked, by the various partners in the coalition as they go their separate ways.

Perhaps the most significant divide within the Republican Party is, of course, between social conservatives and libertarians. The idea that their views grow out of the same set of values is almost preposterous. Within the Democratic Party, the labor elements and the environmentalist elements would hardly seem to be natural partners, except that they both oppose capitalist drive to make large profits for shareholders at the expense of all else. It is much easier to explain the motives of the elements in the two major political coalitions by appealing to more obvious interests that they do not share.

To be fair, the foregoing criticism perhaps assumes that Lakoff's thesis is more ambitious than it is. A more charitable reading of his thesis is not that the values of the two model families explain the current political coalitions, but that given the legal framework ensuring two parties, appealing to values of the model families are the most effective way of mobilizing the coalitions. Certainly Lakoff has recognized a powerful rhetorical tool used by the Republican coalition. The values described in Strict Father Model of the family clearly resonate across many segments of the political right and Lakoff explicitly is calling on liberals to employ similar countervailing tactics. The "guidebook" features of Lakoff's work show striking similarities to memos by Republican framing strategist Frank Luntz.

The material in Don't Think of an Elephant appears in a more expanded form on the Web site of Lakoff's think tank, the Rockridge Institute; however, while still maintaining the Web site, Rockridge has folded for lack of funding. This is very telling. Lakoff's argues that framing issues in a progressive way is essential to a liberal renaissance in politics and while he recognizes the advantage that rich funding sources give to conservatives, he doesn't seem to acknowledge their overwhelming importance. This, along with is failure to recognize the true motivating forces behind the conservative and liberal agendas shows that his perspective on politics is overly ideological. A more accurate analysis will explore the material and economic forces at work in American politics.

Library Ethics / Jean Preer -- Westport, Conn: Libraries Unlimited, 2008

The following review is scheduled to be published in The Library Quarterly, 81(1), 2011.

There are two common approaches to thinking about ethics: descriptive and normative. Descriptive ethics attempts to understand the ethical standards employed by a person, institution, or society. Normative ethics attempts to justify specific ethical standards. Jean Preer’s Library Ethics is mainly descriptive. She writes, “this book will examine how our understanding of library ethics has evolved along with the development of librarianship itself” (p. xiii) and “librarians developed rules in practice that were determined by institutions, customs, and local needs. Indeed, ethics relates to ‘custom,’ the word deriving from ethos, the way things are done” (p. 2.). Often works of descriptive ethics are inherently conservative. They guide us by describing prevailing practices. Preer’s work does a fair job of avoiding this trap by giving fair accounts of countervailing ethical tendencies. In the end, the reader gains a firm understanding of the main ethical challenges facing the profession as well as the evolving answers to those challenges as codified in the American Library Association (ALA) Code of Ethics, the ALA Library Bill of Rights, and other documents. Moreover, the reader is poised to consider these issues more deeply and with fresh eyes.

Early on, Preer addresses the professional aspirations of 19th and early 20th century librarians. A code of ethics is presented as an essential element of any profession. While the aspiration to professional status may seem self-serving, the 1938 ALA Code gave guidance to library workers who sought to understand what the profession expected of them. One year later, the ALA Library Bill of Rights was a promise to patrons, communities, and the world as to what they could expect from the profession.

In tracing the subsequent development of these documents, Preer describes a transformation of ethical imperatives from concrete obligations to broad assertions of professional values. Her history begins with statements by eminent librarians, most importantly Charles Knowles Bolton’s 1909 library code. Bolton prescribed library administrators’ obligations to the library’s board, staff, and patrons. The 1938 ALA Code of Ethics preserved Bolton’s approach with its implicit value of library service; however, according to Preer, the social conditions and the practice of librarianship gradually changed the profession’s ethical foundations. In 1975, the ALA adopted a Statement on Professional Ethics in which specific obligations gave way to an assertion of values; furthermore, the explicit value of access replaced the implicit value of service.

Preer presents the re-conceptualization of library ethics from obligations to values as an advance, but it is hard to see how this is so. To provide concrete help in behaving ethically, a code must not be couched in overly general, ambiguous statements of value, particularly when the code includes multiple conflicting values, e.g., freedom of information and respect for copyright. This is not to say that statements of value are useless, but they must be able to specify obligations that direct our actions. Perhaps a more useful way to think about this history is that the elements of a general formula have been emphasized differently over time. Consider the basic ethical formula: “Librarian A has an obligation to B (a patron, community, or society) to do or not do action X.” Bolton’s code and the 1938 ALA Code more or less explicitly specified the formula’s variables, but by 1975, the object of our obligations (B) had become amorphous and the substance of our obligations (X) had become abstract. Given these changes, we indeed might want to characterize our code as asserting “values.” On the other hand, we simply may have abandoned the difficult work of identifying our obligations in favor of bromides that will pass in the ALA Council.

The more consequential evolution that Preer identifies is our shift from valuing service to valuing access. In the 19th and early 20th century, our ability to provide access was relatively limited. We, therefore, emphasized our role as educators. Preer quotes Alvin Johnson, president of the New School, as observing, “Not buildings nor even book collections, but trained, intelligent, enterprising library service makes a real library” (p. 10); but as the publishing industry expanded, as our collections grew, and as we developed increasingly sophisticated tools for controlling information, our emphasis shifted toward helping each patron access whatever information she or he could identify. The role that information plays in a democratic society ennobled this effort, but when access is the paramount value, the librarian’s primary role is technocratic. We identify the requested item or meme and provide it, increasingly “just in time” rather than “just in case.” We become, essentially, unfiltered search engines.

It is noteworthy that with the expansion of free, full-text internet access to increasing shares of the information universe, access is slipping out of the hands of librarians and into the hands of advertisers, like Google. If our primary value is access, this trend will undermine our reason for being and potentially doom the profession. The following might be as self-serving as developing a “professional” code of ethics, but resurrecting the venerable value of service could give us a more lasting future. At the same time, it will resurrect important ethical problems that faded with the valorization of access.

When service is paramount, other ethical obligations arise. Preer describes an early role of librarians as educators who sought to raise the intellectual and cultural standards of the community. She quotes ALA President Arthur Bostwick’s 1909 presidential address, saying that the books to be collected “must be morally beneficial, contain accurate information or satisfy the esthetic sense in its broadest meaning” (p. 90). Today, most librarians recoil from a role that seems to objectify goodness, truth, and beauty, but this might be only because of our recent, overriding commitment to ostensibly neutral access. Against this, the explosion of readily available information and the commercial provision of this information leaves patrons in need informed advice about which information sources to take seriously and which to ignore. A new day may be dawning for the services of the reader advisor.

Clearly, a move back to valuing service over access would resurface numerous ethical issues. Many of these issues are valuably illuminated by Preer’s fourth and fifth chapters, “Access: What Information” and “Conflicts of Interest: Philosophical.” Her fourth chapter focuses on issues of censorship and obscenity, but it also discusses quality assessment and selection criteria. Separating the wheat from the chaff can be the service that librarians add to ready online access. In her fifth chapter, Preer addresses significant ethical pitfalls on this path. It is difficult to know how we can set aside our “personal” beliefs when selecting items for their goodness, truth, and beauty. Indeed, what counts as a “personal” belief and whether we should set them aside merits examination. Different criteria might be needed for writing general guides versus offering specific advice to individual patrons. In any case, the expertise of the librarian would certainly be at a premium with this restored educational role. We would no longer be technocratic experts in document delivery, but we would become qualified subject specialists whose task would be to provide our patrons with the best of what they want, not merely anything that approximates it. This would require knowing the subject matter, the available resources, and the specific needs of the patron. In school and academic libraries a certain amount of paternalism would be in order just as teachers have an obligation to use their expertise to guide the research of their students. The ethics of librarians would begin to look more like the ethics of teachers.

Preer’s eighth chapter, “Confidentiality,” deserves special attention. Preer notes that confidentiality (or privacy) initially appears in conflict with access, but she does an admirable job of explaining how freedom of expression is predicated on freedom of inquiry which in turn requires a safe environment for inquiry. This can only come about when researchers have reasonable assurances that their research will not be made known against their will. Preer goes on to apply this principle to several circumstances and patron populations. The chapter ends with a succinct discussion of privacy in the era following Sept. 11, 2001 and the advent and implications of the USA PATRIOT Act.

Throughout Library Ethics, Preer traces the ethical attitudes within the library profession and how these attitudes became expressed in codes, statements, and particular policies. It is, as she declares, an examination of library ethics based on practice. Preer largely escapes the conservativism of descriptive ethics through the depth and sensitivity of her treatment of the issues. One might say that Library Ethics begs the normative ethical questions in a good way. The reader is left understanding many of the ethical issues that have challenged librarians as well as understanding how and why ethics codes and statements were promulgated. Equipped with this knowledge, the reader is primed to ask the ultimately more important normative questions.