Although I like science fiction, it took me a long time to get around to seeing Interstellar—although time is a subjective sort of thing. One reason I decided to see it is because some claimed the movie should be shown in science classes. Because of this, I expected to see a science fiction movie. Since I write science fiction, horror and fantasy stuff, it should not be surprising that I get a bit obsessive about genre classifications. Since I am a professor, it should also not be surprising that I have an interest in teaching methods. As such, I will be considering Interstellar in regard to both genre classifications and its education value in the context of science. There will be spoilers—so if you have not seen it, you might wish to hold off reading this essay.

While there have been many attempts to distinguish between science and fantasy, Roger Zelazny presents one of the most brilliant and concise accounts in a dialogue between Yama and Tak in Lord of Light. Tak asks Yama about whether a creature, a Rakshasa, he has seen is a demon or not. Yama responds by saying, “If by ‘demon’ you mean a malefic, supernatural creature, possessed of great powers, life span and the ability to temporarily assume any shape — then the answer is no.  This is the generally accepted definition, but it is untrue in one respect. … It is not a supernatural creature.”

Tak, not surprisingly, does not see the importance of this single untruth in the definition. Yama replies with “Ah, but it makes a great deal of difference, you see.  It is the difference between the unknown and the unknowable, between science and fantasy — it is a matter of essence.  The four points of the compass be logic, knowledge, wisdom, and the unknown.  Some do bow in that final direction.  Others advance upon it.  To bow before the one is to lose sight of the three.  I may submit to the unknown, but never to the unknowable”

In Lord of Light, the Rakshasa play the role of demons, but they are the original inhabitants of a world conquered by human colonists. As such, they are natural creatures and fall under the domain of science. While I do not completely agree with Zelazny’s distinction, I find it appealing and reasonable enough to use as the foundation for the following discussion of the movie.

Interstellar initially stays within the realm of science-fiction by staying within the sphere of scientific speculation about hypersleep, wormholes and black holes. While the script does take some liberties with science, this is fine for the obvious reason that this is science fiction and not a science lecture. Interstellar also has the interesting bonus of having contributed to real science about the appearance of black holes. That aspect would provide some justification for showing it in a science class.

Another part of the movie that would be suitable for a science class are the scenes in which Murph thinks that her room might be haunted by a ghost. Cooper, her father, urges her to apply the scientific method to the phenomenon. Of course, it might be considered bad parenting for a parent to urge his child to study what might be a dangerous phenomenon in her room. Cooper also instantly dismisses the ghost hypothesis—which can be seen as being very scientific (since there has been no evidence of ghosts) to not very scientific (since this might be evidence of ghosts).

The story does include the point that the local school is denying that the moon-landings really occurred and the official textbooks support this view. Murph is punished at school for arguing that the moon landings did occur and is rewarded by Cooper. This does make a point about science denial and could thus be of use in the classroom. At least until the state decrees that the moon landings never happened.

Ironically, the story presents its own conspiracies and casts two of the main scientists (Brand and Mann) as liars. Brand lies about his failed equation for “good” reasons—to keep people working on a project that has a chance and to keep morale up. Mann lies about the habitability of his world because, despite being built up in the story as the best of the scientists, he cannot take the strain of being alone. As such, the movie sends a mixed message about conspiracies and lying scientists. While learning that some people are liars has value, this does not add to the movie’s value as a science class film. Now, to get back to science.

The science core of the movie, however, focuses on holes: the wormhole and the black hole. As noted above, the movie does stick within the realm of speculative science about the wormhole and the black hole—at least until near the end of the movie.

It turns out that all that is needed to fix Brand’s equation is data from inside a black hole. Conveniently, one is present. Also conveniently, Cooper and the cool robot TARS end up piloting their ships into the black hole as part of the plan to save Brand. It is at this point that the movie moves from science to fantasy.

Cooper and TARS manage to survive being dragged into the black hole, which might be scientifically fine. However, they are then rescued by the mysterious “they” (whoever created the wormhole and sent messages to NASA).

Cooper is transported into a tesseract or something. The way it works in the movie is that Cooper is floating “in” what seems to be a massive structure. In “reality” it is nifty blend of time and space—he can see and interact with all the temporal slices that occurred in Murph’s room. Crudely put, it allows him to move in time as if it were space. While it is also sort of still space. While this is rather weird, it is still within the realm of speculative science fiction.

Cooper is somehow able to interact with the room using weird movie plot rules—he can knock books off the shelves in a Morse code pattern, he can precisely change local gravity to provide the location of the NASA base in binary, and finally he can manipulate the hand of the watch he gave his daughter to convey the data needed to complete the equation. Weirdly, he cannot just manipulate a pen or pencil to write things out. But movies got to movie. While a bit absurd, this is still science fiction.

The main problem lies with the way Cooper solves the problem of locating Murph at the right time. While at this point, I would have bought the idea that he figured out the time scale of the room and could rapidly check it, the story has Cooper navigate through the vast time room using love as a “force” that can transcend time. While it is possible that Cooper is wrong about what he is really doing, the movie certainly presents it as if this love force is what serves as his temporal positioning system.

While love is a great thing, there are not even remotely scientific theories that provide a foundation for love having the qualities needed to enable such temporal navigation. There is, of course, scientific research into love and other emotions. The best of current love science indicates that love is a “mechanical” phenomena (in the philosophical sense) and there is nothing to even suggest that it provides what amounts to supernatural abilities.

It would, of course, be fine to have Cooper keep on trying because he loves his children—love does that. But making love into some sort of trans-dimensional force is clearly supernatural fantasy rather than science and certainly not suitable for a science lesson (well, other than to show what is not science).

One last concern I have with using the movie in a science class is the use of super beings. While the audience learns little of the beings, the movie indicates they can manipulate time and space. They create the wormhole, they pull Cooper and TARS from a black hole, they send Cooper back in time and enable him to communicate in stupid ways, and so on. The movie also tells the audience the beings are probably future humans (or what humanity becomes) and that they can “see” all of time. While the movie does not mention this, this is how St. Augustine saw God: He is outside of time. They are also benign and demonstrate they care about some individuals but not others. While they save Cooper and TARS, they also let many people die.

Given these qualities, it is easy to see these beings (or being) as playing the role of God or even being gods: super powerful, sometimes benign beings, that have incredible power over time and space. Yet they are fine with letting lots of people die needlessly while miraculously saving a person or two. For reasons.

Given the wormhole, it is easy to compare this movie to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. This show had a wormhole populated by powerful beings that existed outside of our normal dimensions. To the people of Bajor, these beings were divine and supernatural Prophets. To Star Fleet, they were the wormhole aliens. While Star Trek is supposed to be science fiction, some episodes involving the prophets did blur the lines into fantasy, perhaps intentionally.

Getting back to Interstellar, it could be argued that the mysterious “they” are like the Rakshasa of Lord of Light: in that they (or whatever) have many of the attributes of God or gods but are not supernatural beings. Being fiction, this could be set by fiat, but this does raise the boundary question. To be specific, does saying that something that has what appear to be the usual supernatural powers is not supernatural make it science-fiction rather than fantasy? Answering this requires working out a proper theory of the boundary, which goes beyond the scope of this essay. However, I will note that having the day saved by the intervention of mysterious and almost divinely powerful beings does not seem to make the movie suitable for a science class. Rather, it makes it seem to be more of a fantasy story masquerading as science fiction.

My overall view is that showing parts of Interstellar, specifically the science parts, could be fine for a science class. However, the movie is more fantasy than science fiction.  

In the United States, freedom of expression is a legally protected right. Mostly. More importantly, from a philosophical perspective, it is also a well-supported moral right. As such, an appeal to freedom of expression can be a useful way to argue ethics. While appeals to freedom of expression are usually used against curtailing expression, they are also employed against compelled expression. For example, the Religious Freedom Restoration Act was alleged to be aimed at protecting people from certain types of alleged compelled expression.

In the case of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, the argument from freedom of expression would not justify genera discrimination in regards to providing goods and services. For example, the owner of a pizzeria would be hard pressed to claim that not being allowed to forbid gay people from buying his pizza violates his freedom of expression. However, an appeal to freedom of expression might be applicable in certain cases.

While freedom of expression is typically presented as a right against being silenced, it also provides the right not to be compelled to express views (specifically views that one does not hold or that one opposes). The right to not be compelled in one’s expression would thus seem to give a person a moral right to refuse certain services.

This line of reasoning is appealing. For example, I operate a writing business. I write books I sell through Amazon and DriveThruRPG and I do freelance work. My writing is an act of expression. As such, my freedom of expression grants me a moral right to refuse to write a tract endorsing Nazism or one advocating hatred of Christians. I also design book covers and do some graphic work (graphic as in visual, not as in adult content). Since these are expressions, I have the moral right to refuse to make a book cover for book expressing ideas I regard as morally wrong, such as eliminating religious freedom in favor of enforced atheism. This is because the creation of such work entails a clear endorsement and expression of the ideas. If I write a tract in favor of white supremacy, I am unambiguously expressing my support of the idea. If I knowingly create a cover for a book on white supremacy, then it would be reasonable to infer I agreed with the ideas. In such cases, an appeal to freedom of expression would seem quite relevant and reasonable.

Obviously, an author or cover designer who believes that her religion condemns same-sex marriage would also be protected by the freedom of expression from being required to express support for it. If a LGBT group approached her and offered her a fat stack of cash to pen a piece in favor of gay marriage, she would have the moral right to reject their offer. After all, they have no moral right to expect her to express views she does not hold, even for fat stacks of cash. The writer would, of course, have every right to sell out for cash, although that does raise another moral issue.

In contrast, I could not use freedom of expression as a reason to not sell one of my books or works to a person. For example, freedom of expression does not grant me the right to forbid Amazon from selling my books to Nazis, racists, intolerant atheists, or non-runners. After all, selling a book to a person is not an endorsement of that person’s ideas. I do not endorse intolerant atheism just because an intolerant atheist can buy my book.

Likewise, the author who believes her religion condemns same-sex marriage as wickedness could not use freedom of expression to demand that Amazon not sell her books to homosexuals. While buying a book might suggest agreement with the author (but it obviously does not entail it—I have many philosophy books whose contents I disagree with), it does not suggest that the author is endorsing the purchaser. So, if a gay person buys the author’s anti-same-sex marriage book, it does not mean that the author is endorsing same-sex marriage.

Not surprisingly, no one has claimed that religious freedom acts are needed to protect Christian writers from being forced to write pro-gay works. However, it has been argued that such laws are needed to protect the freedom of expression for people such as caterers, bakers, and photographers.

The argument is that catering a wedding, baking a wedding cake, doing a wedding or engagement photo shoot and similar things are expressions and are thus covered by the right to freedom of expression.

Obviously enough, if these activities are expressions analogous to the paradigm cases of speech and writing, then the freedom of expression does protect them. As such, the key question is whether such actions are acts of expression such that engaging in them in relation to a same-sex wedding would express an endorsement of same-sex marriage.

To get the obvious out of the way, refusing to cater, photograph or bake a cake for a wedding because the people involved were Jewish, black, Christian, white, or Canadian would clearly be discrimination. If the person refusing to do so said that baking a cake for a Jew endorsed Judaism, that catering a black wedding endorsed blackness, or that photographing Canadians being married was an endorsement of Canada, she would be dismissed as either joking or crazy.  But perhaps a case could be made that catering, baking and photographing are expressions of agreement or endorsement.

On the face of it, catering food for a wedding would not seem to be expressing approval or agreement with the wedding, regardless of what sort of wedding it might be. Selling someone food seems like selling them a book as their buying it says nothing about what I endorse or believe. When the pizza delivery person arrives with a pizza when I am playing D&D, I do not say “aha, Hungry Howie’s endorses role-playing games!” After all, they are just selling me pizza.

In the case of the wedding cake, it could be argued that it is a specific sort of cake and creating one is an endorsement. By this reasoning, a birthday cake would entail an endorsement of the person’s birth and continued existence, a congratulations cake would entail an endorsement of that person’s achievement and so on for all the various cakes.  This, obviously enough, seems implausible. Making a birthday cake for me does not show that Publix endorses my birth or continued existence. They are just selling me a cake. Likewise, selling a person a wedding cake does not entail approval of the wedding. Obviously enough, if a baker sells a wedding cake to a person who has committed adultery, this does not entail her approval of adultery.

It could be argued that bakers have the right to refuse a specific design or message on the cake. For example, a Jewish baker could claim that he has the right to refuse to create a Nazi cake with swastikas and Nazi slogans. This seems reasonable. A baker, like a writer, should not be compelled to create content she does not wish to express. Given this principle, a baker could refuse to bake a sexually explicit wedding cake or one festooned with gay pride slogans and condemnations of us straight folks. However, creating a basic wedding cake is not an expression of ideas and would be on par with selling a person a book rather than being forced to write specific content. By analogy, I cannot refuse to sell a book to a person because he is an intolerant atheist, but I can refuse the contract to write in support of that view.

Since photography is a form of art (at least in some cases), it is reasonable to see it as a form of artistic expression. On this ground it is reasonable to accept that photography is protected by the freedom of expression. The key issue here is whether taking pictures commercially is like writing words, that photographing something is an endorsement of the activity or if it is like selling a book, which is merely selling a product and not an endorsement.

On the face of it, commercial photography would seem to be like selling a book. A person who is paid to cover a war or a disaster is not taken as endorsing the war or the disaster. One would not say that because a person took a photo of a soldier shooting a civilian that he endorses that activity. Likewise, a person photographing a wedding is not endorsing the wedding, she is merely recording the event. For money.

It might be countered that a wedding photographer is different from other commercial photographers as she is involved in the process and her involvement is an expression of approval. But, of course, commercial photographers who take photos at sports events, political events, protests and such are also involved in the process as they are there, taking pictures. However, a photographer hired to take pictures of Hilary Clinton does not thus express her support for Hilary. She is just taking pictures.  Fox News, after all, has lots of videos and photos of Hilary Clinton, but they do not thereby endorse Hilary. As such, the freedom of expression would not seem to grant a commercial photographer the right to refuse to photograph a same-sex wedding based on an appeal to freedom of expression since taking photos does not involve endorsing the subject.

That said, another approach would be to argue that while taking a photo of an event does not entail endorsement of the event, an artist cannot be compelled to create a work of art that she does not wish to create. Since a photograph is art, a wedding photographer cannot be compelled to create an image of a same-sex wedding, just as a writer cannot be justly compelled to write a certain sort of book. This is appealing. After all, a photographer has every right to refuse to take photos of a wedding orgy or even of a tastefully nude wedding based on the content.

Of course, this would also allow commercial wedding photographers to refuse to take photos of blacks, Christians, Jews, or anyone they dislike on the grounds that she does not want to create, for example, a photographic work including crosses or black people. So, consistency would to require that if wedding photographers can refuse to serve gay clients based on artistic content, then a wedding photographer could refuse anyone on the same grounds. Thus, wedding photographers should be permitted to have “whites only”, “straights only”, “atheists only”, “No MAGA” or “gays only” signs on their business. For artistic reasons, of course. But that does seem a bit problematic.

While my adopted state of Florida has many interesting tales, perhaps the most famous is the story of Juan Ponce de León’s quest to find the fountain of youth. As the name suggests, this enchanted fountain was supposed to grant eternal life to those who partook of its waters.

While the fountain of youth is regarded as a myth, it turns out that the story about Juan Ponce de León’s quest is also a fiction. And not just fiction, it is slander.

In 1511, or so the history goes, Ponce was forced to resign his post as governor of Puerto Rico. King Ferdinand offered Ponce an opportunity: if he could find Bimini, it would be his. That, and not the fountain of youth, was the object of his quest. In support of this, J. Michael Francis of the University of South Florida, claims that the documents of the time make no mention of a fountain of youth. According to Francis, a fellow named Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés disliked Ponce, most likely because of the political struggle in Puerto Rico.  Oviedo wrote a tale in his Historia general y natural de las Indias claiming that Ponce was tricked by the natives into searching for the fountain of youth.

This fictional “history” stuck (rather like the arrow that killed Ponce) and has become a world-wide legend. Not surprisingly, my adopted state is happy to cash in on this tale. There is even a well at St. Augustine’s Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park that is popular with tourists. There is irony in the fact that a tale intended to slander Ponce as a fool has given him lasting fame is. Given the success of the story, this is a case where fiction is better than the truth. While this is but one example, it does raise a general philosophical matter regarding truth and fiction.

From a moral and historical standpoint, the easy and obvious answer to the general question of whether a good fiction is better than a truth is “no.”  After all, a fiction of this sort is a lie and there are the usual moral arguments why lying is generally wrong. In this specific case, there is also the fact (if the story is true) that Oviedo slandered Ponce from malice and this seems morally wrong.

 In the case of history, the proper end is the truth. As Aristotle said, it is the function of the historian to relate what happened. In contrast, it is the function of the poet to relate what may happen. As such, for the moral philosopher and the honest historian, no fiction is better than the truth. But, of course, these are not the only legitimate perspectives on the matter.

Since the story of Ponce and the fountain of youth is fiction, it is not unreasonable to also consider it in the context of aesthetics in terms of its value as a story. While Oviedo intended for his story to be taken as true, he can be considered an artist. Looked at as a work of fiction, the story does relate to what could happen. After all, a person can quest for something that does not exist. To use an example from the same time, Orellana and Pizarro went searching for the legendary city of El Dorado (unless, of course, this is just another fiction).

While it might seem odd to take a lie as art, the connection between the untrue and art is well-established. In the Poetics, Aristotle notes how “Homer has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skillfully” and he regards such skillful lies as a legitimate part of art. Oscar Wilde, in his “New Aesthetics” presents as his fourth doctrine that “Lying, the telling of beautiful untrue things is the proper aim of Art.” A little reflection shows they are correct, at least in the case of fiction. After all, fiction is untrue by definition, yet is a form of art. When an actor plays Hamlet and says the lines, he pours forth lie after lie. The Chronicles of Narnia are also untrue as there is no Narnia and no Aslan. Likewise for even mundane fiction, such as Moby Dick. As such, being untrue or even a lie in the strict sense of the term does not disqualify a work from being art.

Looked at as a work of art, the story of the fountain of youth seems better than the truth. While the true story of Ponce is certainly not a bad tale (a journey of exploration ending in death from a wound suffered in battle), the story of a quest for the fountain of youth has proven the better tale. This is not to say that the truth of the matter should be ignored, just that the fiction is acceptable as a beautiful, untrue thing.

A Philosopher’s Blog 2025 brings together a year of sharp, accessible, and often provocative reflections on the moral, political, cultural, and technological challenges of contemporary life. Written by philosopher Michael LaBossiere, these essays move fluidly from the ethics of AI to the culture wars, from conspiracy theories to Dungeons & Dragons, from public policy to personal agency — always with clarity, humor, and a commitment to critical thinking.

Across hundreds of entries, LaBossiere examines the issues shaping our world:

  • AI, technology, and the future of humanity — from mind‑uploading to exoskeletons, deepfakes, and the fate of higher education
  • Politics, power, and public life — including voting rights, inequality, propaganda, and the shifting landscape of American democracy
  • Ethics in everyday life — guns, healthcare, charity, masculinity, inheritance, and the moral puzzles hidden in ordinary choices
  • Culture, identity, and conflict — racism, gender, religion, free speech, and the strange logic of modern outrage
  • Philosophy in unexpected places — video games, D&D, superheroes, time travel, and the metaphysics of fictional worlds

Whether he is dissecting the rhetoric of conspiracy theories, exploring the ethics of space mining, or reflecting on the death of a beloved dog, LaBossiere invites readers into a conversation that is rigorous without being rigid, principled without being preachy, and always grounded in the belief that philosophy is for everyone.

This collection is for readers who want more than hot takes — who want to understand how arguments work, why beliefs matter, and how to think more clearly in a world that rewards confusion.

Thoughtful, wide‑ranging, and often darkly funny, A Philosopher’s Blog 2025 is a companion for anyone trying to make sense of the twenty‑first century.

 

Available for $2.99 on Amazon

 

 

 

While there is an established history of superhero characters having their ethnicity or gender changed, each change often creates a small uproar (and not just among the fans). For example, while the original Nick Fury is white, the character is black in some worlds. And Samuel Jackson played the character in the MCU movies and shows). As another example, a woman took on the role of Thor. I will be using “ethnicity” here rather than “race” because in most comic book worlds humans are one race, just as Kryptonians and Kree are races.

Some complaints about these changes are based in racism and sexism. While interesting from the standpoint of psychological analysis and ethical evaluation, these complaints are not worthy of serious aesthetics consideration. Instead, I will focus on legitimate concerns about such change.

A good place to begin is to address reasonable concerns about continuity and adherence to the original source material. Just as, for example, having Batman with Superman’s powers would break continuity, making him an Hispanic woman would also seem to break it. Just as Batman normally has no superpowers, he is also a white guy.

One obvious reply is that characters change over time. To use an obvious example, when Superman first appeared he was faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings. However, he did not fly and did not have heat vision. Over the years writers added abilities and increased his powers until he became the Superman of today. Character background and origin stories are also frequently modified. If these sorts of changes are acceptable, then this opens the door to changes to the character’s ethnicity or gender.

One easy way to justify any change is to use alternative realities. When D.C. was faced with the problem of “explaining” the first versions of Flash (who wore a Mercury style helmet), Batman, Green Lantern (whose power was magic and whose vulnerability was wood) and Superman they came up with the idea of having Earth 1 and Earth 2. This soon became a standard device for creating more comics to sell, although it did have the effect of creating a bit of a mess for fans trying to keep track of things. An infinite number of earths is a lot to keep track of, which led to a crisis.  Marvel also has its famous “What If” series which allow for changes with an in-world (or across world) justification.

While the use of parallel and possible worlds provides an easy out, there is still the matter of changing the gender or ethnicity of the “real” character (as opposed to just having an alternative version). One option is to not have any “real” character as every version (whether on TV, in the movies or in comics) is just as “real” and “official” as any other. While this solves the problem by fiat, there still seems to be a legitimate question about whether all these variations should be considered the same character. That is, whether a Hispanic female Flash would really be the Flash.

In some cases, the matter is easy to handle. Some superheroes occupy roles, hold “super jobs” or have gear or an item that makes them super. For example, anyone can be a Green Lantern (provided the person qualifies for the ring). While the original Green Lantern was a white guy, a Hispanic woman could join the corps and thus be a Green Lantern. Just as almost, anyone can be a police officer or soldier.

As another example, being Iron Man could be seen as just a matter of wearing the armor. So, an Asian woman could wear Iron Man armor and be Iron Woman. As a final example, being Robin seems to be a role. As different white boys have occupied that role, there seems to be no real issue with having a female Robin (which has been done) or a Robin who is not white.

In many cases a gender change would be pointless because female versions of the character already exist. For example, a female Superman would just be another Supergirl or Power Girl. As another example, a female Batman would just be Batwoman or Batgirl, superheroes who already exist. So, what remains are cases that are not so easy to handle.

While every character has an “original” gender and ethnicity (for example, Captain America started as a white male), it is not always the case that the original’s gender and ethnicity are essential to the character. That is, the character would still make sense, and it would still be reasonable to regard the character as the same (only with a different ethnicity or gender).  This, of course, raises metaphysical concerns about essential qualities and identity. Put very simply, an essential quality is one that if an entity loses that quality, it ceases to be what it is. For example, having three sides is an essential quality for a triangle: if it ceases to be three sided, it ceases to be a triangle. Color and size are not the essential qualities of triangles. A red triangle that is painted blue does not cease to be a triangle.

In the case of superheroes, the key question here is one about which qualities are essential to being that hero and which ones can be changed while maintaining the identity of the character. One way to approach this is in terms of personal identity and to use models that philosophers use for real people. Another approach is to go with an approach that is more about aesthetics than metaphysics. That is, to base the essential qualities on aesthetic essentials, qualities relevant to being the right sort of fictional character.

One plausible approach here is to consider whether a character’s ethnicity and gender are essential to the character. That is, for example, whether Captain America would still be Captain America if he were black or a woman. Or a Colonel.

One key aspect of it would be how these qualities would fit the origin story in terms of plausibility. Going with the Captain America example, Steve Rogers could have been black. Black Americans served in WWII and it would be plausible that the super soldier experiment would be done on African-Americans (because they did experiments in the real world). Making Captain America into a woman would be implausible in a WWII world like our own. The sexism of the time would have ensured that a woman would not have been used in such an experiment and American women were not allowed to enlist in the combat infantry. But, of course, the creation could be an accident. As another example, the Flash could easily be cast as a woman or as having any ethnicity. Tere is nothing about the Flash’s origin that requires that the Flash be a white guy.

Some characters, however, have origin stories that would make it implausible for the character to have a different ethnicity or gender. For example, Wonder Woman would not work as a man, given the nature of the Amazons. She could, however, be cast as any ethnicity (since she is, in the original story, created from a statue).

Another key aspect would be the role of the character in terms of what he or she represents or stands for. For example, Black Panther’s origin story would seem to preclude him from being any ethnicity other than black. His role would also seem to preclude that, as well as a white Black Panther would, it would seem, simply not fit the role. Black Panther could, perhaps, be a woman especially since being the Black Panther is a role. So, to answer the title question, Black Panther could not be white. Or, more accurately, should not be white. 

As a closing point, it could be argued that all that really matters is whether the story is a good one or not. So, if a good story can be told casting Spider-Man as a black woman then that is all the justification needed for the change.

Once and future presidential candidate Mike Huckabee once expressed his concern about the profanity flowing from the mouths of New York Fox News ladies: “In Iowa, you would not have people who would just throw the f-bomb and use gratuitous profanity in a professional setting. In New York, not only do the men do it, but the women do it! This would be considered totally inappropriate to say these things in front of a woman. For a woman to say them in a professional setting that’s just trashy!”

In response, Erin Gloria Ryan posted a piece on Jezebel.com. As might be suspected, the piece utilized the language that Mike dislikes and she started off with “listen up, cunts: folksy as balls probable 2016 Presidential candidate Mike Huckabee has some goddamn opinions about what sort of language women should use. And guess the fuck what? You bitches need to stop with this swearing shit.” While the short article did not set a record for OD (Obscenity Density), the author did make a good go at it.

I am not much for swearing. In fact, I used to say, “swearing is for people who don’t how to use words well.” That said, I do recognize there are proper uses for swearing.

While I generally do not favor swearing, there are exceptions in which it is not only permissible, but necessary. For example, when I was running college cross country, one of the other runners was looking super rough after a run. The coach asked him how he felt, and he said, “I feel like shit coach.” The coach corrected him by saying “no, you feel like crap.” He replied, “No, coach, I feel like shit.” And he was completely right. Inspired by the memory of this exchange, I will endeavor to discuss proper swearing. I am, of course, not developing a full theory of swearing.

I do agree with some of what Huckabee said, namely the criticism of swearing in a professional context. However, my professional context is academics, and I am doing my professional thing in front of students and other faculty. Not exactly a place where gratuitous f-bombing would be appropriate or even useful. It would also make me appear sloppy and stupid, as if I could not express ideas or keep the attention of the class or colleagues without the cheap shock theatrics of swearing.

I am open to the idea that such swearing could be appropriate in certain professional contexts. That is, that the vocabulary of swearing would be necessary to describe professional matters accurately and doing so would not make a person seem sloppy, disrespectful or stupid. Perhaps Fox News and Jezebel.com are such places.

While I was raised with certain patriarchal views, I have shed most of them but must confess I retain a psychological residue. Hearing a woman feels worse than hearing a man swear, but I know this just confirms I am an old man. If it is appropriate for a man to swear, the same right of swearing applies to a woman equally. I’m gender neutral about swearing, at least in principle.

Outside of the professional setting, I have a general opposition to casual and repetitive swearing. The main reason is that I look at words and phrases as tools. As with any tool, they have suitable and proper uses. While a screwdriver could be used to pound in nails, that is a poor use.  While a shotgun could be used to kill a fly, that is excessive and will cause needless collateral damage. Likewise, swear words have specific functions and using them poorly can show not only a lack of manners and respect, but a lack of artistry.

In general, the function of swear words is to serve as dramatic tools. They are supposed to shock and to convey something strong, such as great anger. To use them casually and constantly is like using a scalpel to cut everything from paper to salami. While it will work, the blade will grow dull from repeated use and will no longer function well when needed for its proper task. So, I reserve my swear words not because I am prudish, but because if I wear them out, they will not serve me when I really need them most. For example, if I were to say “we are fucked” all the time for any minor problem, then when a situation in which we are well and truly fucked arrives, I will not be able to use that phrase effectively. But, if I save it for when the fuck really hits the fan, then people who know me will know that it has gotten truly serious for I will have broken out the “it is serious” words.

As another example, swear words should be saved for when a powerful insult or judgment is needed. If I were to constantly call normal people “fuckers” or describe not-so-bad things as being “shit”, then I would have little means of describing very bad people and very bad things. While I generally avoid swearing, I do need those words from time to time, such as when someone really is a fucker or something truly is shit. Which is often the case these days.

Of course, swear words can be used for humorous purposes. This is not really my sort of thing, but their shock value can serve well to make a strong point or shock. However, if the words are too worn by constant use, then they can no longer serve their purpose. And, of course, it can be all too easy and inartistic to get a laugh simply by being crude. True artistry involves being able to get laughs using the same language one would use in front of grandpa in church. Of course, there is also artistry to swearing, but that is more than just doing it all the time.

I would not dream of imposing on others. Folks who wish to communicate using an abundance of swear words have every right to do so, just as someone is free to pound nails with a screwdriver or whittle with a scalpel. However, it does bother me a bit that these words are being dulled and weakened by excessive use. If this keeps up, we will need to make new words and phrases to replace them.

As a fan of fantasy, science fiction, and superheroes I have no difficulty in suspending disbelief for seemingly impossible things like wizards, warp drives and Wonder Woman. But, when watching movies and TV shows, I find myself being critical of the very unlikely. As a philosopher, I find interesting and in need of an explanation. I will use examples from the Hobbit movies and the Flash TV show. Because they vex me even years later.

The Hobbit movies include the standard fare in fantasy: wizards, magic swords, immortal elves, dragons, enchanted rings, and other such things that are (most likely) impossible in the actual world.  The Flash features a superhero who, in the opening sequence, explicitly claims to be the impossible. I, as noted above, have no problem accepting these aspects of fantasy and superhero “realities.”

Given my ready acceptance of the impossible, it seems odd that I am critical of other aspects of these movies and the TV show. In the case of the first Hobbit movie, my main complaint is about the encounter with goblins and their king. I have no issue with goblins, but with physics. I am not a physicist; but I am familiar with falling and gravity and those scenes were so implausible that they prevented me from suspending my disbelief.

In the case of the second Hobbit movie, I have issues with the barrel ride and the battle between the dwarfs and Smaug. In the case of the barrel ride, the events were so wildly implausible that I could not accept them. Ironically, the moves were too awesome and the fight too easy. It was like watching a video game being played in “god mode”: there was no feeling of risk, and the outcome was assured.

In the case of the battle with Smaug, every implausible step had to work perfectly to result in Smaug being in exactly the right place to have the gold “statue” spill on him. Paradoxically, the incredible difficulty of this made it seem too easy. Since everything so incredibly unlikely worked so perfectly it looked completely scripted. I had no feeling that any step could have failed. Obviously, every part of a movie is, by definition, scripted. But if the audience feels this, then the movie is doing a poor job.

In the case of The Flash, I have two main issues. The first is with how Flash fights his super opponents. It is established in the show that Flash can move so fast that anyone without super speed is effectively motionless relative to him. For example, in one episode he simply pulls all the keys from the Royal Flush gang’s motorcycles, and they can do nothing. However, when he fights a powerful villain, he is suddenly unable to use that ability. For example, when fighting the non-speedsters Captain Cold and Heatwave he runs around, barely able to keep ahead of their attacks. But these two villains are just normal guys with special guns. They have no super speed or ability to slow the Flash. Given the speed shown in other scenes, the Flash would be able to zip in and take their guns, just as he did with the keys. Since no reason was given as to why this would not work, the battles seem contrived, as if the writers could not think of a good reason why Flash would be unable to use an established ability, but just made it happen to fill up time with a fight.

The second issue is with the police response to the villains. In the same episode where Flash fights Captain Cold and Heatwave, the police are confronting the two villains yet are utterly helpless. Until one detective manages a lucky shot that puts the heat gun out of operation. The villains, however, easily get away. However, the fancy weapons are very short range, do not really provide any defensive powers and the users are just normal guys. As such, the police could have simply shot them, something real police are obviously willing to do. Yet, for no apparent reason, they do not. The only reason would seem to be that the writers could not come up with a plausible reason why they would not, yet needed them to not do that. This, of course, is not unique to the flash or these villains. The most obvious example is the Joker. He is just a guy, and it makes no sense, beyond his value as an IP, why he has not been shot. Now that I have set the stage, it is time to turn to philosophy.

In the Poetics Aristotle discusses the possible, the probable and the impossible. As he notes, a plot is supposed to go from the beginning, through the middle and to the end with plausible events. He does consider the role of the impossible and contends that “the impossible must be justified by artistic requirements, higher reality, or received opinion” and that that “a probable impossibility is preferable to an improbable possibility.”

In the case of the impossibilities of the Hobbit movies and the Flash TV show, these are justified by the artistic requirements of the fantasy and superhero genres: they, by their very nature, require the impossible. In the case of the fantasy genre, the impossibilities of magic and the supernatural must be accepted. Of course, it is easy to accept these things since it is not actually certain that the supernatural is impossible.

In the case of the superhero genre, the powers of heroes are usually impossible. However, they make the genre what it is. So to accept stories of superheroes is to willingly accept the impossible as plausible in that context. Divergence from reality is acceptable because of this.

Some of the events in the show I was critical of are not actually impossible, just incredibly implausible. For example, it is not impossible for the police to simply decide to just not use rifles against a criminal armed with a flamethrower. However, accepting this requires accepting that while the police in the show are otherwise like police in our world, they differ in one critical way: they are incapable of deploying snipers against people armed with exotic weapons. It is also not impossible that a person would make a life or death fight easier for the person trying to kill them by not using their abilities. However, accepting these things requires accepting things that do not improve the aesthetic experience, but rather detract by requiring the audience to accept the implausible without artistic justification.

To be fair, there is one plausible avenue of justification for these things. Aristotle writes that “to justify the irrational, we appeal to what is commonly said to be.” In the comics from which the Flash TV show is drawn, the battles between heroes and villains almost always go that way. So, the show mostly matches the comic reality. Likewise for the police. In the typical comic police are ineffective and rarely kill villains with sniper rifles, even when they easily could do so. As such, the show could be defended on the grounds that it is just following the rules of comics aimed at kids. That said, I think the show would be better if the writers were able to come up with reasonable justifications for why the Flash cannot use his full speed against the villain of the week and why the police are so inept against normal people with fancy guns.

In the case of the Hobbit movies, accepting the battle in the goblin caves would require accepting that physics is different in those scenes than it is everywhere else in the fantasy world. However, Middle Earth is not depicted elsewhere as having such wonky physics and the difference is not justified. In regard to the barrel ride battle and the battle with Smaug, the problem is the probability. The events are not individually impossible, but accepting them requires accepting the incredibly unlikely without justification or need. Those who have read the book will know that those events are not in the book and are not needed for the story. Also, there is the problem of consistency: the spectacular dwarfs of the barrels and Smaug fight are also the seemingly mundane dwarfs in so many other situations. Since these things detract from the movie, they should not have been included. Also, the Hobbit should have just been one movie.

Back in my graduate school days, I made extra money writing for science fiction and horror gaming companies. This was in the 1990s, which was the chrome age of cyberpunk: the future was supposed to be hacked and jacked. The future is now, but is an age of Tinder, Facebook, and Tik Tok. But there is still hope of a cyberpunk future: body hackers are endeavoring to bring some cyberpunk into the world. The current state of the hack is disappointing but, great things arise from lesser things and hope remains for a chromed future.

Body hacking, at this point, is minor. For example, some people have implanted electronics under their skin, such as RFID chips. Of course, most dogs also have an implanted chip. As another example, one fellow who is color blind has a skull mounted device that informs him of colors via sounds. As one might imagine, body hacks that can be seen have generated some mockery and hostility. Since I owe cyberpunk for my ability to buy ramen noodles and puffed rice cereal, I am obligated to come to the defense of the aesthetics of body hacking.

While some point out that philosophers have not given body hacking the attention it deserves and claim that it is something new and revolutionary, it still falls under established moral systems. As such, body hacking is a new matter for applied ethics but does not require a new moral theory.

The aesthetic aspects of body hacking fall under the ethics of lifestyle choices, specifically those regarding choices of personal appearance. This can be shown by drawing analogies to established means of modifying personal appearance. The most obvious modifications are clothing, hairstyles and accessories (such as jewelry). These, like body hacking, have the capacity to shock and offend people, perhaps by what is revealed by the clothing or the message sent by it (including literal messages, such as T-shirts with text and images).  Unlike body hacking, these modifications are on the surface, thus making them different from true body hacking.

As such, a closer analogy would involve classic cosmetic body modifications. These include hair dye, vanity contact lenses, decorative scars, piercings, and tattoos. In fact, these can be seen as low-tech body hacks that are precursors to the technological hacks of today. Body hacks go beyond these classic modifications and range from the absurd (a man growing an “ear” on his arm) to the semi-useful (a person who replaced a missing fingertip with a USB drive). While concerns about body hacking go beyond the aesthetic, body hacks do have the capacity to elicit responses like other modifications. For example, tattoos were once regarded as the mark of a lower-class person, though they are now accepted. As another example, not long ago men (other than pirates) did not get piercings unless they were willing to face ridicule. Now piercing is passé.

Because the aesthetics of body hacking are analogous to classic appearance hacks, the same ethics applies to these cases. Naturally enough, people vary in their ethics of appearance. I, as veteran readers surely suspect, favor John Stuart Mill’s approach to the matter of the ethics of lifestyle choices. Mill argues that people have the right to interfere with liberty only to prevent a person from harming others. This is a reasonable standard of interference which he justifies on utilitarian grounds. Mill explicitly addresses the ways of life people chose: “…the principle requires liberty of tastes and pursuits; of framing the plan of our life to suit our own character; of doing as we like, subject to such consequences as may follow; without impediment from our fellow-creatures, so long as what we do does not harm them even though they should think our conduct foolish, perverse, or wrong.”

Mill’s principle nicely handles the ethics of the aesthetics of body hacking (and beyond): body hackers have the moral freedom to hack themselves even though such modifications might be regarded as aesthetically perverse, foolish, or wrong. So, just as a person has the moral right to wear clothing that some would regard as too revealing or dye his hair magenta, a person has the moral right to grow a functionless ear on his arm or implant blinking lights under her skin. But just as a person would not have a right to wear a jacket covered in razor blades, a person would not have the right to hack herself with an implanted strobe light that flashes randomly into people’s eyes. This is because such things become the legitimate business of others because of the harm they can do.

Mill does note that people are subject to the consequences of their choices and not interfering with someone’s way of life does not require accepting it, embracing it or even working around it. For example, just as a person who elects to have “Goat F@cker” tattooed on his face can expect challenges in getting a job as a bank teller or schoolteacher, a person who has blinking lights embedded in his forehead can expect to encounter challenges in employment. Interestingly, the future might see discrimination lawsuits on the part of body hackers, analogous to past lawsuits for other forms of discrimination. It can also be expected that social consequences will change for body hacking, just as it occurred with tattoos and yoga pants.

One final point is the stock concern about the possible harm of offensive appearances. That is, that other people do have a legitimate interest in the appearance of others because their appearance might harm them by offending them. While this is worth considering, there does not seem to be a compelling reason to accept that mere offensiveness causes sufficient harm to warrant restrictions on appearance. What would be needed would be evidence of actual harm to others that arises because the appearance inflicts the harm rather than the alleged harm arising because of how the offended person feels about the appearance. To use an analogy, while someone who hates guns has the right not to be shot, he does not have the right to insist that he never see images of guns.

The discussion has shown that body hacking that does not inflict harm to others falls nicely under the liberty to choose a way of life, provided that the way of life does not inflict harm on others. But, as always, a person who strays too far from the norm must be aware of possible consequences. Especially when it comes to dating and employment.

While I have been playing video games since the digital dawn of gaming, it was not until I completed Halo 5 that I gave some philosophical consideration to video game cut scenes. For those who are not familiar with cut scenes, they are non-interactive movies within a game. They are used for a variety of purposes, such as providing backstory, showing the consequences of the player’s action or providing information (such as how adversaries or challenges work).

The reason  Halo 5 motivated me to write this is an unfortunate one: Halo 5 made poor use of cuts scenes and will argue for this  claim as part of my sketch of a philosophical cut scene theory. Some gamers, including director Guillermo Del Toro and game designer Ken Levine, have spoken against the use of cut scenes. In support of their position, a reasonable argument can be presented.

One fundamental difference between a game and a movie is the distinction between active and passive involvement. In a typical movie, the audience merely experiences the movie as observers and do not influence the outcome. In contrast, gamers experience the game as participants in that they some control over the events. A cut scene, or in game movie, changes the person from being a player to being an audience member. This is analogous to taking a person playing baseball and then moving them into the bleachers to watch the game. They are, literally, taken out of the game. While many enjoy watching sports, the athlete is there to play and not to be part of the audience. Likewise, while watching a movie can be enjoyable, a gamer is there to game and not be an audience member. To borrow from Aristotle, games and movies each have their own proper pleasures and mixing them together can harm the achievement of this pleasure.

 Aristotle, in the Poetics, is critical of the use of the spectacle (such as what we would now call special effects) to produce the tragic feeling of tragedy. He contends that this should be done by the plot. Though this is harder to do, the effect is better. In the case of a video game, the use of cinematics can be regarded as an inferior way of bringing about the intended experience of a game. The proper means of bringing about the effect should lie within the game itself so that the player is playing and not merely observing. As such, cut scenes should be absent from games. Or, at the very least, kept to a minimum.

One way to counter this argument is to draw an analogy to table top role-playing games such D&D, Pathfinder and Call of Cthulhu. Such games typically begin with something like a video game’s opening cinematic: the game master sets the stage for the adventure to follow. During play, there are often important events that take considerable game world time but would be boring to play out in real time. For example, a stock phrase used by most game masters is “you journey for many days”, perhaps with some narrative about events that are relevant to the adventure, such as the party members becoming friends along the way. There are also other situations in which information needs to be conveyed, or stories told that do not need to be played out because doing so would not be enjoyable or would be needlessly time consuming. A part of these games is shifting from active participant to briefly taking on the role of the audience. However, this is rather like being on the bench listening to the coach rather than being removed from the field and put into the bleachers. While one is not actively playing at that moment, it is still an important part of the game and the player knows they will be playing soon.

In the case of video games, the same sort of approach would also seem to fit, at least in games that have story elements that are important to the game (such as plot continuity, background setting, maintaining some realism, and so on) yet would be tedious, time consuming or beyond the mechanics of the game to play through. For example, if the game involves the player driving through a wasteland to the ruins of a city she wishes to explore, then a short cut scene that illustrates the desolation of the world would be appropriate. After all, driving for hours through a desolate wasteland would be very boring.

Because of the above argument, I do think that cut scenes can be a proper part of a video game, if they are used well. This requires, but is not limited to, ensuring that the cut scenes are necessary and that the game would not be better served by either deleting the events or address them with game play. It is also critical that the player does not feel they have been put into the bleachers, although a benched feeling can be appropriate. As a rule, I look at cut scenes as analogous to narrative in a tabletop role-playing game: a cut scene in a video game is fine if narrative would be fine in an analogous situation in a tabletop game.

Since I was motivated by Halo 5’s failings, I will use it as an example of the bad use of cut scenes. Going with my narrative rule, a cut scene should not contain things that would be more fun to play than watch, unless there is some greater compelling reason why it must be a cut scene. Halo 5 routinely breaks this rule. A rather important sub-rule of this rule is that major enemies should be dealt with in game play and not simply defeated in a cut scene. Halo 5 broke this rule right away. In Halo 4 Jul ‘Mdama was built up as a major enemy. As such, it was rather surprising that he was knifed to death in a cut scene near the start. This would be like setting out to kill a dragon in Dungeons & Dragons and having the dungeon master allow you to fight their orc and goblin minions, but then just say “Fred the fighter hacks down the dragon. It dies” in lieu of playing out the fight with the dragon. Throughout Halo 5 there were cut scenes to which I and my gaming buddy said,  “huh, that would have been fun to play rather watch.” That, in my view, is a mark of bad choices about cut scenes.

The designers also made the opposite sort of error: making players engage in tedious “play” that would have been far better served by short cut scenes. For example, there are parts where the player must engage in tedious travel (such as ascending a damaged structure). While it would have been best to make it interesting, it would have been less bad to have a quick cut scene of the Spartans scrambling to safety. The worst examples, though, involved “game play” in which the player remains in first person shooter view, but cannot use any combat abilities. For example, in one section of play the goal is to walk around trying to find various people to “talk” to. The conversations are scripted: when you reach the person, the non-player character t says a few things and your character says something back. There are no dialogue choices. These should have been handled by short cut scenes. After all, when playing a first person shooter, I do not want to walk around unable to shoot  while I trigger uninteresting recorded conversations.  These games are supposed to be “shoot and loot” not “walk and talk.”

To conclude, I take the view of cut scenes that Aristotle takes of acting: while some condemn all cut scenes and all acting (it was argued by some that tragedy was inferior to the epic because it was acted out on stage), it is only poor use of cut scenes (and poor acting) that should be condemned. I do condemn Halo 5’s cutscenes.

In my previous essay I introduced the notion of using the notion of essential properties to address the question of whether James Bond must be a white man. I ran through this rather quickly and want to expand on it here.

As noted, an essential property (to steal from Aristotle) is a property that an entity must have. In contrast an accidental property is one that it does have but could lack. As I tell my students, accidental properties are not just properties from accidents, like the dent in a fender.

One way to look at essential properties is that if a being loses an essential property, it ceases to be. In effect, the change of property destroys it, although a new entity can arise. To use a simple example, it is essential to a triangle that it be three-sided. If another side is added, the triangle is no more. But the new entity could be a square. Of course, one could deny that the triangle is destroyed and instead take it as changing into a square. It all depends on how the identity of a being is determined.

Continuing the triangle example, the size and color of a triangle are accidental properties.  A red triangle that is painted blue remains a triangle, although it is now blue. But one could look at the object in terms of being a red object. In that case, changing the color would mean that it was no longer a red object, but a blue object. Turning back to James Bond and his color, he has always been a white man.

Making Bond a black man would change many of his established properties and one can obviously say that he would no longer be white Bond. But this could be seen as analogous to changing the color of a triangle: just as a red triangle painted blue is still a triangle, changing Bond from a white to a black man by a change of actors does not entail that is no longer Bond. Likewise, one might claim, for changing Bond to a woman via a change of actor.

As noted in the previous essay, the actors who have played Bond have been different in many ways, yet they are all accepted as Bond. As such, there are clearly many properties that Bond has accidentally. They can change with the actors while the character is still Bond. One advantage of a fictional character is, of course, that the author can simply decide on the essential properties when they create the metaphysics for their fictional world. For example, in fantasy settings an author might decide that a being is its soul and thus can undergo any number of bodily alterations (such as through being reincarnated or polymorphed) and still be the same being. If Bond was in such a world, all a being would need to be Bond would be to be the Bond soul. This soul could inhabit a black male body or even a dragon and still be Bond. Dragon Bond could make a great anime.

But, of course, the creator of Bond did not specify the metaphysics of his world, so we would need to speculate using various metaphysical theories about our world.  The question is: would a person changing their race or gender result in the person ceasing to be that person, just as changing the sides of a triangle would make it cease to be a triangle? Since Bond is a fictional character, there is the option to abandon metaphysics and make use of other domains to settle the matter of Bond identity. One easy solution is to go with the legal option.

Bond is an intellectual property, and this means that you and I cannot create and sell Bond books or films. As such, there is a legal definition of what counts as James Bond, and this can be tested by trying to see what will get you sued by the owner of James Bond. Closely related to this the Bond brand; this can change considerably and still be the Bond brand. Of course, these legal and branding matters are not very interesting from a philosophical perspective, and they are best suited for the courts and marketing departments. So I will now turn to aesthetics.

One easy solution is that Bond is whoever the creator says Bond is; but since the creator is dead, we cannot determine what he would think about re-writing Bond as someone other than a white man. One could, of course, go back to the legal argument and assert that whoever owns Bond has the right to decide who Bond is.

Another approach is to use the social conception: a character’s identity is based on the acceptance of the fans. As such, if the fans accept Bond as being someone other than a white man, then that is Bond. After all, Bond is a fictional character who exists in the minds of his creator and his audience. Since his creator is dead, Bond now exists in the minds of the audience; so perhaps it is a case of majority acceptance, a sort of aesthetic democracy. Bond is whom most fans say is Bond. Or one could take the approach that Bond is whoever the individual audience member accepts as Bond; a case of Bond subjectivity. Since Bond is fictional, this is appealing. As such, it would be up to you whether your Bond can be anyone other than a white man. A person’s decision would say quite a bit about them. While some might be tempted to assume that anyone who believes that Bond must be a white man is thus a racist or sexist, that would be a mistake. There can be non-sexist and non-racist reasons to believe this. There are, of course, also sexist and racist reasons to believe this.  As a metaphysician and a gamer, I am onboard with Bond variants that are still Bond. But I can understand why those who have different metaphysics (or none at all) would have differing views.