Moral education is an unavoidable aspect of classroom interactions between teachers and students. Every decision teachers make about their educational practice is colored by the moral and cultural environment in which they teach. Not only are contemporary classrooms infused with moral, cultural, and personal values, but contemporary life is rife with moral hazards that urge us to prepare the youth appropriately for their particular challenges. In this introductory chapter, we discuss some of these hazards and outline how the present volume provides various theoretical and conceptual resources for addressing them. In addition, we give an overview of the other important topics discussed in this volume. These topics include neo-Aristotelian, postclassical, neo-Kantian, and care-based ethics and their role in reconceiving the aims and methods of moral education, as well as new perspectives on moral education that have grown out of the capability approach to democratic justice and recognition theory.

Ponton and Canepa examine metaphor use in texts from the Cambridge Law Journal. However, the authors do not approach metaphor from a conceptual viewpoint but regard it as a component of good verbal style in the Aristotelean sense, as a figure of speech being of vital constitutive importance in legal discourse.

That the Constitution of the United States of America might be thought of as a Christian document is even stranger than thinking of it as a just war document. Using – if also criticizing – the work of German political theorist Carl Schmitt, this chapter argues for a distinct kind of political theology understood in terms of time and that, in this regard, the Constitution reveals a kind of temporal posture that might best be understood, at least broadly, as “Christian.” The distinct way that the Constitution imagines time and how to stand in it (a posture in time) aligns best with the vision of time offered by Protestants – and particularly those in the Reformed tradition – at the time of the document’s writing. The way the United States and other constitutions imagine time continues to shape jurisprudence and societies. Troublingly, this temporal posture manifests in three problems that make the likelihood and shape of climate-shaped violence especially acute: using temporal deferral as a delaying maneuver, confusing optimism with hope, and fetishizing a particular modern expression of freedom.

As it transitioned from its late medieval into its early modern forms, the Christian just war tradition did more than shape colonialization, law, and the nation-state; it significantly shaped modernity itself. Its emphases on four big modern ideas – autonomy, immanence, instrumentalism, and universalizability – manifest throughout the modern social imaginary, including in the way both religion/theology and the nonhuman natural world are removed from view in the political realm. Viewing this transition through explicitly theological lenses helps make sense of modernity’s preoccupation with (state) violence, its struggles to negotiate ambiguity, and its commitment to a myth of progress that conceals the ironies, disjunctions, and ambivalences of history. It also helps to explain why modern political thought ignores the nonhuman natural world at a time when the costs of such ignorance are growing exponentially.

In On the Rights of War and Peace, Hugo Grotius (1583–1645) pushes natural law thinking into an international law form, shaping not only the origins of international law but a particular vision of the nation-state as the primary political form of modernity. Along the way, he frames the conditions through which just war thinking will move from being a tradition into becoming a theory (with its preoccupying focus on jus ad bellum and jus in bello criteria) and the modern self will become the primary political agent. One implication of his revolutionary thought is that it gives license to colonizing powers to use military force to acquire and defend property, especially the resources of the new world, thereby shaping modern understandings of the natural world as composed of things that can become owned. Another is that it makes refugees all-but-invisible, which will create increasingly acute problems as climate change and violence, together, will dramatically increase the number of displaced persons in the world.

Perhaps due to the influence of the great man myth of history, the Constitution of the United States of America is rarely named as participating in the shaping of the just war tradition, let alone being a just war document. Yet the concerns of war and just war thinking pervade the original document and the Bill of Rights as well as and some of its later amendments and are visible not only in the story of its creation but, even more significantly, in its rhetoric. Moreover, even as it and other constitutions are the primary expression of modern legal thought, it manifests a particular way of doing just war thinking that sits uncomfortably within modern just war theory. The way it inscribes sovereignty – at both personal and national levels – while diffusing authority exacerbates the wicked problems of climate-shaped conflicts, especially those relating to nonstate actors and global inequities.

Taking up Lynn White, Jr.’s argument that Christianity is largely responsible for contemporary ecological crises, this chapter develops an environmental historical reading of the Christian just war tradition’s transition from its late medieval into its early modern forms. That reading reveals not only the flaws in White’s argument but the many ways that the nonhuman natural world was understood by late medieval just war thinkers, including as resource, brake, enemy, and collection of signs. Attending to the environmental conditions and human interactions with the nonhuman natural world that shaped late medieval Europe and gave rise to early modern projects of colonialization and conquest helps to clarify the range of forces at work in shaping just war thinking and modernity. Among the implications of an environmental historical reading of the history of Christian just war, thinking is not only a recognition of the ways that the natural and the political interact but the need for a richer vocabulary to express those interactions in a time of growing climate-shaped violence.