The Australian legal system is not an island, and Australian law has felt the influence of law and legal ideas from other jurisdictions, particularly other common law countries. Australian law has also been shaped by public international law both directly and indirectly and this interaction has become increasingly important as the scope and content of international law have grown. The relationship between Australian law and international law is mediated by Australia’s constitutional framework in which the separation of powers between the executive, legislature and the courts holds central place. Unlike the constitutions in many other legal systems, the Australian Constitution does not address the relationship between international and domestic law, and most of the relevant legal principles are to be found in the common law. This chapter examines how each arm of government in Australia has engaged with international law, identifying areas where the relationship is well settled (as it is in relation to treaties) and areas where there remains some uncertainty (as in relation to customary international law).

This chapter examines how parties to treaties give effect to them in their domestic (internal) law. Every treaty in force is binding upon the parties and must be performed in good faith (pacta sunt servanda). A party may not invoke the provisions of its internal law as justification for its failure to perform a treaty. A state should therefore adopt any domestic legislation necessary to give effect to the treaty before it consents to be bound. There are two broad approaches to implementation of treaties, depending on a state’s constitutional provisions: monism and dualism. The essence of monism is that a treaty may, without legislation, become part of domestic law once it has been concluded and has entered into force for that state. The practice of France, Germany, The Netherlands, Russia, Poland and Switzerland is examined. Under the dualist approach, the rights and obligations created by treaties have no effect in domestic law unless legislation is in force to give effect to them. UK constitutional practice is examined, together with the interpretation and application of treaties by UK courts. US practice is similarly analysed.

Today, the soul appears in psychology as a noun, as an adjective, and as a verb. First is soul as a noun, where debates over dualism loom large. Dualism still has a place in psychology. Second is soul as an adjective: psychical reality. Casey and Meissner distinguish psychical reality from the “subjective” by finding that this reality can be shared. Psychical reality relates to what is given to an experiencing person. To discern this reality, one must participate in the unfolding of what is experienced. For Christou (1963), psychological experience has two aspects: “subject-object unity” and “dramatic quality” (p. 75). Third is soul-as-verb, that is, soul as activity, creative activity, imaginative work, or in general, “soul making.” This section concentrates on the archetypal psychology as well as its critics. The book ends by delineating characterizations of the soul developed in the book, a psychology with soul in a soulless psychology.

There were other dissenters to soulless psychology. Montague proposed that the soul was something like “potential energy.” Ladd held that the soul was a concept necessary for psychology because consciousness cannot be reduced to nerve action; consciousness has “real existence” in itself. Ladd’s hesitation to affirm the reality of the mind reflected his ambivalent position between an older Christian culture and the newer secular culture of his day. Hall attempted to ground the soul in recapitulation theory, with the soul evolving. Hall proposed a sublation or Aufhebung of the soul, with “immortality” transformed into the future evolution of the species and our gradual perfection. Münsterberg distinguished a soulless causal psychology and an ensouled purposive psychology. The two psychologies were both necessary but incompatible. McDougall did fuse the two by positing the real existence of a nonphysical mind.

What is international law, and how is it different from domestic (national) law?  This chapter provides an answer to those questions and introduces other foundational concepts in international law such as opinio juris, sovereignty, and the state. We trace the development of international law from Western/European perspectives and discuss how international law was often experienced as oppression and violence in the non-Western world. The chapter concludes with a consideration of the classic sources of international law: customs, treaties, general principles of law, judicial decisions, and scholarly writings, each of which is presented in some detail.

While Wallace’s fiction is famously “about what it means to be a fucking human being,” there is a consistent strain of posthumanism in his writing that has formed a rich thread of scholarship, from Hayles’ technological lens and Giles’ sentimental reading through to Hayes-Brady’s consideration of the body as object, Hering’s examination of the self as a spatial nexus and Vermeule’s Schopenhauerian reading of mind/body dualism. Indeed, it is difficult to encounter Wallace at all without a consideration of the post-ness of his humanism. At the heart of this posthumanism is an ambivalence about the locus of the self in a deeply networked yet alienating world, where telephones and roads are as much a barrier to communion as they are conducive. Beginning with the most disembodied characters – Wallace’s many ghosts – the chapter draws attention to the ways in which the disembodied self in Wallace’s work – pure consciousness – is limited and impotent. The chapter also examines the representation of the most deeply embodied characters – babies – as the other side of this coin, incoherent and narcissistic. Engaging philosophies of dualism and embodiment as well as drawing on the more recent neuroscientific turn in literary studies, this chapter argues that consciousness for Wallace involves imagining the mind in and of the body. This chapter connects this section with the following one, reminding us that for Wallace the self exists always and only within the world.

This chapter discusses how customary international law enters the sphere of EU law and to what extent it determines the relationship between the EU institutions, its member states and individual persons. Against this background, it is examined how customary international law is integrated into the EU legal order, what status it enjoys within that legal order, how it can be applied by EU institutions and whether it can serve as a benchmark for judicial review. Assuming that EU law is an autonomous domestic legal system, these questions are discussed from the perspective of EU constitutional law. Here it is argued that the Court of Justice of the European Union, in evaluating these issues, focusses too much on the idea of the autonomy of EU law. In order to provide provisions of customary international law with practical effect the validity of EU law must also be able to be reviewed on the basis of international law standards.

With special reference to Diotima’s teaching in Plato’s Symposium, this chapter discusses the central importance to Hermetic spirituality of beauty and reverence (eusebeia), Hermetic psychological theory, and the centrality of imagination to the Hermetic concept of “becoming aiōn” and gaining cosmic consciousness.

Discussion of the only Hermetic practitioners still known to us by name: Zosimos of Panopolis, Theosebeia, and Iamblichus of Chalcis. They shared a strong emphasis on the embodiment of spirit, in the contexts of alchemy and theurgy.

The UK’s Constitution is not insulated from external influences. In considering the sources of constitutional law, we cannot ignore the influence of public international law and international legal orders to which the UK belongs. This chapter therefore examines the relationship between the UK’s legal systems, public international law in general, and introduces specific treaties which are significant for the UK’s legal systems, such as the European Convention of Human Rights (ECHR).

Never-resolved problems of seventeenth-century metaphysics – the mind/body divide, nature conceived as alive or as a great, dead machine, and attendant questions about life and agency – have returned to haunt contemporary science. Siri Hustvedt demonstrates the ways in which these persistent philosophical dilemmas connect Cavendish’s monist, dynamic, organicist philosophy to much later thought in phenomenology, contemporary critiques in the philosophy of biology, and to Whitehead’s radical process philosophy.

The most famous subject on which Bayle has been claimed to be either a fideist or an atheist is his discussion of the problem of evil in the ‘Manichean’ articles of the Dictionnaire and in subsequent writings. This chapter contextualises those writings so as to outline Bayle’s sources, and to show that he was engaging in a tripartite polemic about the theological doctrine of predestination. From Gassendi, Bernier, and others Bayle had learnt to argue that the problem of evil had no full solution: a purely rational (pagan) philosophy led to a deterministic fatalism. Gassendi, Bernier and others had used this point to insist on the necessity of adopting a Molinist doctrine of free will. Bayle argued the opposite: while it was indeed impossible to reconcile predestination and free will, history had shown that this did not lead to moral laxness. At the same time, the predestinarian position was more rational than the Molinist one, since it best accorded with the idea of unitary, omnipotent deity (which all sides agreed was rational). It is shown that Bayle adopted this argument from several Reformed theologians with whose writings he was well familiar: his teachers Louis Tronchin and Francis Turretin, and above all Jacques Abbadie and his then-friend Pierre Jurieu. But for Bayle this conclusion also had a political pay-off that put him at odds with Jurieu: that the difficulties of theological doctrine should lead to mutual toleration of differing opinions, rather than to a destabilising odium theologicum.

This chapter demonstrates how transnational counter-terrorism is used to shape, license, and excuse domestic actions that have direct and intimate impacts on the individual and on the relationship between state power and accountability in the counter-terrorism domain. The chapter considers how transnational counter-terrorism disrupts modes of managing the relationship between international and domestic law. It shows that transnational provenance is often used as a proxy for domestic tests of proportionality, constitutionality, and necessity, thus undermining politicisation and national constitutional arrangements. Finally, the chapter considers the impact of transnational counter-terrorism on the relationship between the state and the individual, showing that states routinely capitalise on the impulses and atmosphere of the transnational counter-terrorism order to securitise dissent and opposition, and that transnational counter-terrorism enables states to recast citizens as terrorists whose rights can be treated as forfeited, even where this leaves such citizens in situations of grave vulnerability, including exposure to torture or inhuman treatment.

This chapter uses J. Anderson Thomson and Clare Aukofer’s (2011) meta-analysis of the evolutionary basis for faith to compare Dylan’s and Lennon’s supernatural beliefs. These manifest as profound spiritual convictions that resisted the conventional strictures of mainstream religion. Their similarities and differences demonstrate, once again, how dual biography elicits outcomes that a stand-alone individual assessment cannot produce. Dylan and Lennon, widely regarded as innovative mavericks, were both active participants in thought-reform movements on at least one occasion. Each also, at different times, identified with the figure of Jesus Christ so completely that this transformation in their private disposition became conspicuous in their public life. As the first study of its type, this chapter demonstrates the potential for further interdisciplinary research between popular music scholars and evolutionary psychologists.

Recent developments in artificial intelligence (AI) and genetic engineering/bio-enhancement reflect a deep-seated discontent with humanity’s embodied condition. This discontent is a contemporary variation on the long-standing dualisms that elevate mind/soul/intelligence over bodies and materiality. The (increasingly well-funded) desire to redesign human bodies and the habitats of our world grow out of the same logic that is reflected in an impatience with imperfection, vulnerability, and frustration. The end-result of transhumanism leads to a strange outcome, namely the eclipse, surpassing, and obliteration of the form of humanity itself. As such, transhumanism reflects a refusal to be in bodies and places, and thus is a particularly striking example of humanity’s rejection of its creaturely condition.