Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „American Unitarian Universalist Association“

This paper examines views of women among the most prominent “progressive” American religious groups (as defined by those that liberalized early on the issue of birth control, circa 1929). We focus on the years between the first and second waves of the feminist movement (1929–1965) in order to examine these views during a time of relative quiescence. We find that some groups indeed have a history of outspoken support for women’s equality. Using their modern-day names, these groups—the United Church of Christ, the Unitarian Universalist Association, and to a lesser extent, the Society of Friends, or Quakers—professed strong support for women’s issues, early and often. However, we also find that prominent progressive groups—the Protestant Episcopal Church, the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the United Presbyterian Church—were virtually silent on the issue of women’s rights. Thus, we conclude that birth control activism within the American religious field was not clearly correlated with an overall feminist orientation.

The purpose of this report is to interpret processes that transpired at the Unitarian Universalist 2023 General Assembly using the lens of historical polity and to do so as an operations management case study. I believe a fundamental venue for addressing such phenomena is to focus on the Unitarian Universalist Association Organizational Chart as it serves as a foundation for what transpired at the June 21–25, 2023 Unitarian Universalist Association General Assembly. The Unitarian Universalist Association Organizational Chart provides context for much of what transpired in that it frames the manner of approach that is practiced.

The three papers which follow were originally presented at the triennial Unitarian Universalist Convocation in 2016, sponsored by the Unitarian Universalist History and Heritage Society and Collegium, an Association for Liberal Religious Studies [...]

I have inherited a paradox. As the inaugural holder of the Ralph Waldo Emerson Unitarian Universalist Association chair, I am accountable in some sense to a man who once told the graduates of this school to “cast behind [them] all conformity” to what they had learned at school, relying on themselves rather than on the institutions of “historical Christianity.” But I am also accountable to one of those institutions—indeed, to the very denominational tradition that Emerson was leaving behind when he urged our students to “acquaint men at first hand with deity.”1 This level of institutional accountability in a Harvard chair has few precedents. Among my colleagues, only Francis Schussler Fiorenza has the name of a denomination in his title, and while the Charles Chauncy Stillman chair of Roman Catholic studies may contain its own paradoxes, I am guessing that the pope was not as intimately involved in its creation as Unitarian Universalist president Bill Sinkford was in the funding of the Emerson chair.

Orestes Brownson (1803–1876), preacher, journalist, editor, philosopher and controversialist, was born in Stockbridge, Vt., 16 September 1803. At the age of nineteen he became a Presbyterian, but two years later a Universalist. He married in 1827. From 1826 to 1831 Brownson preached in New Hampshire, Vermont and New York. He became a Unitarian, and was ordained a Unitarian minister in 1834. In 1836 he organized ‘The society for Christian Union and Progress’ and began to preach the ‘Church of the Future’. In the same year he became acquainted with Emerson, Alcott, Ripley and others who were labelled Transcendentalists. The latter were the dominant intellectual figures in American life until the middle of the century.

AbstractThis paper explores preachers’ deployment of Appraisal (affect, judgement, appreciation, and dialogic engagement) in preaching on interreligious themes. Adopting a comparative discourse analysis, the paper investigates two American sermons representing diametrically opposed theological responses to other religions, a pluralist sermon in the Unitarian Universalist tradition and an exclusivist sermon in the biblical-evangelical tradition. An analysis of the two preachers’ Appraisal choices reveals two distinct Appraisal profiles. A discussion is then offered demonstrating how Appraisal is conducive to the appropriation and conservation of a specific interreligious persona during preaching.

James Luther Adams died last summer at the age of 92. He was one of four or five giants in his generation of American Christian ethicists. Many members of this society who were doctoral students under him have themselves become important teachers and writers of religious ethics.George Huntston Williams has described Adams as one of the three most significant figures in the history of the Unitarian Universalist denomination, yet Adams grew up as the son of a Baptist and Plymouth Brethren preacher. Adams lived in tension but not in rejection with this Fundamentalist youth. On the one hand, he found lacking there what became his constant passion. Christian life must be carried out in the midst of the institutions of society.

This article begins to develop a theology for the multi-worldview seeker, based on the constructive theological work of Gordon Kaufman. Seeking, as discussed in this article, is an attitude of life, characterized by interest in more than one theological, philosophical, or spiritual worldview, without any short or mid-term intention to commit oneself to one of them. In the United States, the Unitarian Universalist Association is a denomination that houses many theological seekers. The principles and sources of faith of that denomination offer an interesting foundation for the attitude of seeking. Constructing a theology for the seeker based on these principles should include a coherent account of concepts such as truth, God, spiritual growth, and ethics as they might follow from those principles. This article identifies possible incoherencies in the use of these concepts by seekers and proposes ways to escape them.

The division of American musical culture into a cultivated and vernacular tradition may be traced in large measure to developments in antebellum Boston. It was there that American writers first argued fervently for the association of Platonic idealism with secular instrumental music, and some of these same individuals established the symphony orchestra as the musical medium most capable of realizing their ideals. Musical developments in antebellum Boston were affected by the class structure, which was closely related to religious preference. The upper class, mostly Unitarian, did not participate significantly in music until the late 1830s. The middle class, mostly congregational, favored religious, amateur performing ensembles. The socioeconomic elite began to support music in the 1830s. Led by Samuel A. Eliot, three-time Mayor of Boston, they wrested control of the Boston Academy of Music from the Congregational evangelicals and made it the premier secular musical institution of the city. The Academy featured the first successful symphony orchestra in Boston and one of the first in the country. Ironically, however, Eliot's motivations, which were articulated in several important articles, harked back to early federal Republican concepts of creating a homogeneous society through a commonly shared culture. They contrasted sharply with the more insular goals of the nineteenth-century socioeconomic elite, who wished to use music as a means of distancing themselves from other segments of society. Eliot's vision ultimately was not realized, but his efforts did much to establish the symphony orchestra in American society as well as the notion of high musical culture itself. As such Eliot is an major, although hitherto ignored, figure in American musical history.

THE SCIENTIFIC SPIRIT OF AMERICAN HUMANISM by Stephen P. Weldon. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020. 285 pages. Hardcover; $49.95. ISBN: 9781421438580. *The Scientific Spirit of American Humanism by Stephen Weldon recounts with approval the rise of non-theistic, and even antitheistic, thought in modern science. At the outset, I will confess to being a biased reviewer (perhaps, even, an antireviewer). If I were to tell this story, I would lament, rather than celebrate, the seemingly antireligious stance lauded in this history. I must also confess to being an active participant in this history, both as an amateur student in the fundamentalist/modernist controversy in the Presbyterian churches and in my own active involvement in faith-science discussions among evangelicals in the American Scientific Affiliation (ASA). No historical account is objective--it will always reflect its author's perspective. This is true of this book and of this review. *Weldon tells the history episodically highlighting key people who contributed to this story. He begins in chapter 1, "Liberal Christianity and the Frontiers of American Belief," with Unitarians (theists/deists who reject the deity of Christ), liberal Protestants, and atheistic freethinkers. After a few chapters, he turns to a largely secular story dominated by philosophers rather than ministers. Chapter 12 presents charts that show how the 1933 Humanist Manifesto had 50% signatories who were liberal and Unitarian ministers, while the 1973 Humanist Manifesto II had only 21%. By the end of book, humanism becomes secular/atheistic humanism. Weldon describes humanism as "a view of the world that emphasizes human dignity, democracy as the ideal form of government, universal education, and scientific rationality" (p. 5). While not explicitly mentioned, but likely included in the phrase "scientific rationality," is atheism. The 1973 Humanist Manifest II begins with this theme in its opening article about religion: "We find insufficient evidence for belief in the existence of a supernatural; it is either meaningless or irrelevant to the question of survival and fulfillment of the human race. As non-theists, we begin with humans not God, nature not deity." *Chapter 2, "The Birth of Religious Humanism," tells the early 1900s story of ministers John Dietrich, Curtis Reese, and philosopher Roy Wood Sellers, all who were or became Unitarians. "'God-talk' was no longer useful." Unitarianism ends up being a haven for religious humanists, even for those who have eliminated traditional religious language. These are the roots of today's secular humanism. *In many ways, this era is the other side of the religious history of America that this journal's readers may know. The ASA has roots in the more conservative and traditional end of American Protestantism. The old Princeton Presbyterians, Charles Hodge, A. A. Hodge, and B. B. Warfield, represent a strictly orthodox Christianity, but one open to the advances of modern science. One did not have to be theologically liberal to be proscience. The phenomenon of young-earth creationism is a relatively recent development. Conservative Protestants were not as opposed to conventional science as Weldon's treatment suggests. *The Humanist Manifesto (1933) is the subject of chapter 3, "Manifesto for an Age of Science." It was written by Unitarian Roy Wood Sellers and spearheaded by people associated with Meadville Theological School, a small Unitarian seminary, originally in Pennsylvania; after relocating, it had a close association with the University of Chicago. The Manifesto begins with the words, "The time has come for widespread recognition of the radical changes in religious beliefs throughout the modern world. The time is past for mere revision of traditional attitudes." The first affirmation is "Religious humanists regard the universe as self-existing and not created." *"Philosophers in the Pulpit" (chap. 4) highlights the University of Columbia philosophy department and John Dewey, in particular. Dewey was one of the more prominent signers of the Humanist Manifesto and a leading advocate of philosophical pragmatism. This chapter also tells the story of Felix Adler, also associated with Columbia, and the founder of Ethical Culture, an organization with nontheistic, Jewish roots. *"Humanists at War" (chap. 5) and "Scientists on the World Stage" (chap. 6) recount the increased secularization of humanism. Humanists in the 1940s increasingly struggled with the religious character of humanism. Should the category of religion be used at all? During this era, natural scientists, such as evolutionary biologist Julian Huxley and Drosophila geneticist Hermann Muller, rather than philosophers, led the most prominent forms of humanism. This humanism was increasingly secular, scientific, and even atheistic. *Weldon is not hesitant to expose the foibles of this movement. Chapter 7, "Eugenics and the Question of Race," traces how selective population control became part of the conversation. In addition to Huxley and Muller, Margaret Sanger is also part of this story. Philosopher Paul Kurtz makes his first appearance in this chapter and continues to be a significant player in the rest of the book. He was the editor of the Humanist Manifesto and used its pages to explore the question of race and IQ. *Chapter 8, entitled "Inside the Humanist Counter'culture," describes a period dominated by questions of human sexuality and psychology. Weldon's use of the word "counterculture" is apt. In the 1960s, the feminist Patricia Robertson and lawyer/activist Tolbert McCarroll expressed the zeitgeist of the sexual revolution. The psychology of Carl Rogers, Erich Fromm, and Abraham Maslow moved humanism from a more objective/scientific focus to a more experiential one. They are representatives of the third force (or humanistic) school of psychology, in contrast to Freudian psychoanalysis or Skinnerian behaviorism. Although agreement was rare, by the end of the decade, under Paul Kurtz (influenced by B. F. Skinner), the public face of humanism returned to a more scientific leaning. *Chapter 9, "Skeptics in the Age of Aquarius," is one chapter where I found myself, as a traditional evangelical, to be in nearly complete agreement. This chapter describes how New Age beliefs, along with an ascending occultism, came under fire from the scientific humanists under the leadership of Paul Kurtz. Weldon even cites a Christianity Today article that makes common cause with the secular humanists in their resistance to the growing occultism of western culture. I found this chapter to be a useful critique of New Age thinking. *"The Fundamentalist Challenge" (chap. 10) and "Battling Creationism and Christian Pseudoscience" (chap. 11) recount the clash between secular evolutionists and fundamentalist creationists, especially regarding the public-school science curriculum and the teaching of evolution. Here the author clearly demonstrates his prosecularist/anti-fundamentalist inclinations. On a more personal note, the mention of Francis Schaeffer, R. J. Rushdoony, and Cornelius Van Til, strikes at my own history. While some elements of this conservative Presbyterianism were clearly anti-evolutionist, others in the conservative Reformed camp were open to the proscience (including evolutionary biology) views of Warfield and Hodge, even in the early days of anti-evolutionism among fundamentalists. While some in the ASA would count themselves among young-earth creationists or flood geologists, the majority are open to old-earth geology and even to evolutionary biology. The reaction of Weldon himself, and other critics of this era, seems more akin to a religious fundamentalism of its own--albeit a fundamentalism of naturalism. Fundamentalists are not the only ones engaging in a culture war. My own view is that old-earth geology, old universe (big bang) cosmology, and evolutionary biology should be taught as the mainstream scientific consensus even in private religious schools. But dissent and disagreement should be allowed among teachers and students alike. Sometimes it seems to me that these fundamentalist creationists and atheistic evolutionists are all more interested in indoctrination than education. *Embedded in chapter 10 is the history of the Humanist Manifesto II (coauthored by Paul Kurtz). It clearly espouses positions antithetical to traditional Christian orthodoxy, especially in the explicit anti-theistic and prosexual revolution statements. But it is striking to me how much agreement I can find with people who so strongly disagree with traditional Christian faith. This tells me two things: while fundamental religious differences may exist between people, there is something about being human in this world that brings Christians and non-Christians together on many very fundamental questions such as liberty, human dignity, friendship, and peaceful co-existence. Such values are not the unique provenance of humanists or Christians or other religious groups. The second thing is that we are much better at emphasizing differences and seeking to force others to conform to our way than we are at tolerating differences and persuading those who disagree. *The opening of chapter 12, "The Humanist Ethos of Science and Modern America," brought me once again to a personal reflection that is relevant in reviewing this book. My own love of the natural sciences can be traced to Sagan, Asimov, Clarke, Gould, Dawkins, and others who brought the wonder of science to the broader public. Without denying their a-religious, and even antireligious posture, it is noteworthy that the truths about the natural world are independent of who discovered them or communicates them. And they are wondrous whether or not you acknowledge the hand of God in creating them. The process of science works whether the world was created by God or is the result of properties of the universe that just are. It is interesting to me that a brief discussion of post-modernism appears in this chapter. Postmodernism's undermining of the objectivity of natural science leads one to wonder whether this undermines the whole book by hinting that a postmodernist perspective is the consistent non'religious/atheist view. In contrast, the ASA's faith statement states: "We believe that in creating and preserving the universe God has endowed it with contingent order and intelligibility, the basis of scientific investigation." According to Christians, natural science is possible because creation is orderly and intelligible. Atheists and skeptics simply assert the world's orderliness and intelligibility. *Like myself, readers of this journal are likely to have a different perspective on the events traced in Weldon's book. Nevertheless, the history recounted here helps us to see why there is such a divide between science and those who continue to be influenced by more conservative religious views. As such, it is a worthwhile read and of interest to those who follow the science-faith literature. *Reviewed by Terry Gray, Instructor in Chemistry, Colorado State University, Fort Collins, CO 80523.

Uranium-zirconium carbonitride has been developed at the Federal State Unitarian Enterprise Scientific Research Institute the Scientific Industrial Association "Luch" (LUCH FSUE) and is a high-density high-temperature fuel with high heat conductivity capable of being used in various types of reactors, including fast reactors. The main problem hindering wide application of this fuel is insufficient knowledge of its behavior under irradiation, especially at high burnup. In the USSR, HEU UZrCN (96% by U-235) fuel underwent reactor testing to a low burnup of approximately 1%. However, to confirm practical applicability of this fuel, the fuel needs to be reactor tested at a high burnup. In the framework of a joint Belarussian-American-Russian effort, LEU (19.75% by U-235) UZrCN fuel will undergo reactor testing to a burnup of approximately 40% in the SM-3 reactor at the Joint Stock Company "State Scientific Center Research Institute of Atomic Reactors" (JSC "SSC RIAR"). To conduct the prolonged reactor experiment, an irradiating device with an experimental capsule containing UZrCN pellets has been made, neutronic analysis and thermophysical analysis have been carried out and a programme of pre-irradiation experiments has been implemented. In June 2019 a methodical experiment was carried out in the SM-3 reactor at the JSC "SSC RIAR" in order to confirm operability of the irradiating device developed. Testing of the irradiating device and refinement of the prolonged irradiation experiment procedure were carried out at cell 11 of the reflector of the SM-3 reactor at the JSC "SSC RIAR". The period of irradiation equaled 23.3 effective days. The mean power density in the tested pellets throughout the methodical reactor testing was 516 W=cm3. Burnup achieved for the pellets studied was 0.63% FIFA. The "Giacint" and "Kristal", critical facilities of the State Scientific Institution "The Joint Institute for Power and Nuclear Research - Sosny" (the Scientific Institution "JIPNR - Sosny") will be used for studying neutronic characteristics of critical and subcritical fast assemblies simulating the physical particulars of the cores of advanced gas- or liquid metal cooled fast reactor systems and accelerator driven systems. This paper provides a detailed description of the results of preparatory works for conducting the reactor testing and the results of the methodical reactor experiment. Also the experimental programme and the descriptions of the design and composition of the fast critical assemblies with UZrCN fuel are presented.

The article is devoted to the bioethical reconstruction of the theoretical heritage of Hans Jonas (1903-1993) – a famous German and later American philosopher. Jonas showed that the study of ethics, namely the ethics of the living, should become an integral part of the formation of modern human, his complete education. He was one of the most fascinating thinkers of the twentieth century. He has presented groundbreaking works which are still the subject of serious discussion especially in the areas of ethics and philosophy of nature. In these publications he presents an in-depth philosophical reflection on the relationship between human beings and nature, as well as on the manner in which we approach our association with technology. Particularly in the light of possibilities presented by modern technology, Jonas was primarily interested in a new approach to the philosophy of nature as the basis, the foundation for an ethics of global responsibility. The article re-actualizes the thoughts and arguments of Jonas, which are especially relevant now, at the beginning of the XXI century. These include: the technique change the nature itself, not just human's attitude to nature; the technical sciences change a human being, the mathematization of nature leads to a change not only in human evaluation, but also in human value; critique of epiphenomenalism for underestimating mental states and identifying the non-reducibility of living creatures to its parts; the search for the potential of subjectivity in the realm of living creatures as a whole; reliance on the principle of responsibility as a way to ensure a future humanity as guaranteed, albeit limited in its capabilities. Educating a person on the basis of the principle of responsibility opens the possibility to take into account the interests of future generations and all living creatures, understanding that every person always was, is and will be a part of realm of these creatures. The philosophy of nature as such whole realm creates the preconditions and foundations for the ethics of responsibility as a postconventional universalist ethics. A new way of thinking in nature is the basis of ethics in the technological age: in addition to philosophy and science, the voices of religion, politics, education and the public sphere must also be heard to find answers to current life questions.

Abstract The systematic emergence of the test approach to index numbers took place in the early 1920s, a period marked by pluralism in American economics. Promoted by Irving Fisher, the test approach to index numbers aimed to select a universally valid, ideal formula for index numbers by employing a series of mathematical tests. However, from the first presentation of Fisher's approach, at the 1920 Annual Meeting of the American Statistical Association, to the publication of his book The Making of Index Numbers, in 1922, he faced a series of criticisms, not addressed to his ideal formula per se, but rather aimed at the very idea that a universal formula for index numbers could be singled out. The most prominent individuals involved in this debate were Wesley Mitchell, Warren Persons, Correa Walsh (Fisher's only supporter), and Allyn Young. Among them, the foremost representative of Fisher's antagonists was Mitchell. This study aims at reconstructing this antagonism, arguing that the disagreements between Fisher and Mitchell resulted from their different backgrounds and their distinct understandings of economics as a science. More specifically, this article illustrates how Fisher, as a mathematical economist, privileged a universalist conception of science, while Mitchell, as an institutionalist, understood economics as a contextual and historical discipline, and it illustrates how these preconceptions spilled over to their debates on index numbers. To illuminate such positions, this study explores their archival correspondence.

Çalışmamızda Hristiyanlığın erken dönemlerinden itibaren tartışma konusu olan teslis inancı ve teslis inancını kabul etmeyen Üniteryanizm mezhebinin teslise bakışı ele alınmıştır. Tarihi kökleri 325 İznik Konsiline dayandırılan, XVI. yüzyılda Polonya ve Transilvanya bölgesinde ortaya çıkmış olan Üniteryanizm teslis inancını reddeden tutumu ile dikkat çekici bir mezheptir. 325 İznik Konsilinde İsa’nın Tanrısal bir figür olarak kabul edilmesinden sonra 381 İstanbul Konsilinde Kutsal Ruh’un Tanrılığı kabul edilmiştir. Bu inanç sistemi teslis doktrini ile açıklanmıştır. Bu konsillerde kabul edilen kararlar daha sonra Ortodoksluk ve Protestanlık şeklinde büyük ayrılıklar olmasına rağmen tüm bu mezheplerde aynı şekilde kabul görmüştür. Yeni Ahit’te teslis ifadesi olmamasına rağmen teslis inancı Hristiyan iman ikrarında en temel doktrindir. Kutsal Üçlüğün sırrının eşit ve farklı üç şahısta yalnız bir Tanrı’nın olduğu ifade edilir. Bu ifade anlaşılması zor bir ifadedir. Bir yandan eşit ve farklı üç şahıstan bir yandan da yalnız bir Tanrı’dan söz edilmesi konunun anlaşılmasının zorluğunu bize göstermektedir. Nitekim Hristiyanlar bu anlaşılması ve izah edilmesi zor konunun insan aklı ile değil “ilham” ile anlaşılması gerektiğini söylerler. Teslisin çok Tanrıcılık olduğu eleştirisine karşı Hristiyan dini otoriteleri üç farklı Tanrı’ya değil Tanrı’nın üç farklı tezahürüne iman ettikleri şeklinde bir açıklama yapmaktadır. Hristiyanlar bu üç tezahürü Tanrı’nın maske giymiş hali olarak tasavvur ederler. Bu maskelerle Tanrı’nın üç rolü olduğu belirtilir. Teslisin ilk unsuru Baba’dır. Teslisin ikinci unsuru İsa Mesih, Hristiyan inancına göre Tanrı’nın Oğlu’dur. Tanrı ile İsa aynı cevherdendir. Teslis inancının üçüncü unsuru ise Kutsal Ruh’tur. Hristiyan inancına göre Kutsal Ruh, İsa’nın tüm faaliyetlerinde yanında olmuştur. Günümüzde de faaliyetlerine Kilise aracılığı ile devam etmektedir. Katolik Hristiyan inanç sisteminde teslis inancına büyük önem atfedilmiş ve teslisi inkâr edenlere yakarak öldürme dâhil büyük cezalar uygulanmıştır. Teslis inancı daha sonra ortaya çıkan Ortodoks ve Protestan Hristiyanlık tarafından da kabul görmüş bir doktrindir. Üniteryanizmin çıkış noktası olan teslis karşıtı görüşleri Hristiyanlığın doğması ve İsa’nın çarmıha gerilmesi ile başlamıştır. İznik Konsilinin toplanmasına neden olan Ariusçu fikirler erken dönem Hristiyanlıkta oldukça yaygınlaşan bir görüş olmuş hatta Roma İmparatoru Konstantin döneminde (272-337) egemen mezhep olduğu yönünde bilgilere ulaşılmıştır. Bu görüşün yayılması ve Hristiyanlar arasında tartışmaların çıkması neticesinde Konstantin İznik Konsilinin toplanmasına karar vermiştir. Teslis karşıtı görüşler 325 İznik Konsili öncesi Arius ile yaygınlaşmış ancak İznik Konsilinde bu görüşler reddedilmiştir. Arius Kilise’den azledilmiş ve teslis karşıtı görüşler sapkın görüşler olarak kabul edilmiştir. Arius, İsa’nın Tanrı tarafından yaratılmış bir beşer olarak görmüş ve İsa’nın Tanrısal bir figür olduğunu kesin bir şekilde reddetmiştir. Arius’a göre ezeli olan tek varlık Tanrı’dır. Daha sonra verilen cezalar sebebiyle teslis karşıtı görüşlere çok fazla rastlanmamıştır. Orta Çağ boyunca Katolik Kilise’nin hem siyasi hem de dini bir güç olması sebebiyle tüm karşı görüşler baskı altına alınmıştır. XVI. yüzyıl reform hareketleri ile teslis karşıtı görüşler tekrar ayyuka çıkmıştır. Micheal Servetus, Faustus Socinus, John Biddle, George Blandrata ve Francis David gibi şahsiyetler teslis karşıtı görüşlere öncülük etmişlerdir. Servetus teslis karşıtı görüşlerin oluşmasında önderlik etmiş ve kendinden sonra gelen anti teslis görüşleri etkilemiştir. Socinus özellikle Polonya’da teslis karşıtı görüşlerin yaygınlaşmasında önemli bir figür olmuştur. John Biddle İngiltere’de teslis karşıtı görüşlerin babası olarak görülmektedir. Blandrata ve David ise günümüzde de cemaatleri bulunan Transilvanya bölgesinde etkili olmuşlardır. Daha sonra Üniteryanizm özellikle Amerika Birleşik Devletlerinde gelişim göstermiş ve tüm Üniteryenleri tek çatı altında toplayan Unitarian Universalist Association (Üniteryen Üniversalist Kurumu) isimli kuruluş burada kurulmuştur. Günümüzde en fazla Üniteryenin yaşadığı ülke olan Amerika Birleşik Devletleri’nde William Ellery Channing ve Joseph Priestley etkili kişiler olmuşlardır. Farklı ülkelerde farklı kişilerin önderliğinde gelişim göstermiş olan Üniteryanizmin en önemli ortak noktası ise net bir tek Tanrı inancına sahip olmuş olmasıdır.

While the term “visual literacy” has grown in popularity in the last 50 years, its meaning remains nebulous. It is described variously as: a vehicle for aesthetic appreciation, a means of defence against visual manipulation, a sorting mechanism for an increasingly data-saturated age, and a prerequisite to civic inclusion (Fransecky 23; Messaris 181; McTigue and Flowers 580). Scholars have written extensively about the first three subjects but there has been less research on how visual literacy frames civic life and how it might help the public as a tool to address disadvantage and assist in removing social and cultural barriers. This article examines a forerunner to visual literacy in the push to create an international symbol language born out of popular education movements, a project that fell short of its goals but still left a considerable impression on graphic media. This article, then, presents an analysis of visual literacy campaigns in the early postwar era. These campaigns did not attempt to invent a symbolic language but posited that images themselves served as a universal language in which students could receive training. Of particular interest is how the concept of visual literacy has been mobilised as a pedagogical tool in design, digital humanities and in broader civic education initiatives promoted by Third Space institutions. Behind the creation of new visual literacy curricula is the idea that images can help anchor a world community, supplementing textual communication. Figure 1: Visual Literacy Yearbook. Montebello Unified School District, USA, 1973. Shedding Light: Origins of the Visual Literacy Frame The term “visual literacy” came to the fore in the early 1970s on the heels of mass literacy campaigns. The educators, creatives and media theorists who first advocated for visual learning linked this aim to literacy, an unassailable goal, to promote a more radical curricular overhaul. They challenged a system that had hitherto only acknowledged a very limited pathway towards academic success; pushing “language and mathematics”, courses “referred to as solids (something substantial) as contrasted with liquids or gases (courses with little or no substance)” (Eisner 92). This was deemed “a parochial view of both human ability and the possibilities of education” that did not acknowledge multiple forms of intelligence (Gardner). This change not only integrated elements of mass culture that had been rejected in education, notably film and graphic arts, but also encouraged the critique of images as a form of good citizenship, assuming that visually literate arbiters could call out media misrepresentations and manipulative political advertising (Messaris, “Visual Test”). This movement was, in many ways, reactive to new forms of mass media that began to replace newspapers as key forms of civic participation. Unlike simple literacy (being able to decipher letters as a mnemonic system), visual literacy involves imputing meanings to images where meanings are less fixed, yet still with embedded cultural signifiers. Visual literacy promised to extend enlightenment metaphors of sight (as in the German Aufklärung) and illumination (as in the French Lumières) to help citizens understand an increasingly complex marketplace of images. The move towards visual literacy was not so much a shift towards images (and away from books and oration) but an affirmation of the need to critically investigate the visual sphere. It introduced doubt to previously upheld hierarchies of perception. Sight, to Kant the “noblest of the senses” (158), was no longer the sense “least affected” by the surrounding world but an input centre that was equally manipulable. In Kant’s view of societal development, the “cosmopolitan” held the key to pacifying bellicose states and ensuring global prosperity and tranquillity. The process of developing a cosmopolitan ideology rests, according to Kant, on the gradual elimination of war and “the education of young people in intellectual and moral culture” (188-89). Transforming disparate societies into “a universal cosmopolitan existence” that would “at last be realised as the matrix within which all the original capacities of the human race may develop” and would take well-funded educational institutions and, potentially, a new framework for imparting knowledge (Kant 51). To some, the world of the visual presented a baseline for shared experience. Figure 2: Exhibition by the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum in Vienna, photograph c. 1927. An International Picture Language The quest to find a mutually intelligible language that could “bridge worlds” and solder together all of humankind goes back to the late nineteenth century and the Esperanto movement of Ludwig Zamenhof (Schor 59). The expression of this ideal in the world of the visual picked up steam in the interwar years with designers and editors like Fritz Kahn, Gerd Arntz, and Otto and Marie Neurath. Their work transposing complex ideas into graphic form has been rediscovered as an antecedent to modern infographics, but the symbols they deployed were not to merely explain, but also help education and build international fellowship unbounded by spoken language. The Neuraths in particular are celebrated for their international picture language or Isotypes. These pictograms (sometimes viewed as proto-emojis) can be used to represent data without text. Taken together they are an “intemporal, hieroglyphic language” that Neutrath hoped would unite working-class people the world over (Lee 159). The Neuraths’ work was done in the explicit service of visual education with a popular socialist agenda and incubated in the social sphere of Red Vienna at the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum (Social and Economic Museum) where Otto served as Director. The Wirtschaftsmuseum was an experiment in popular education, with multiple branches and late opening hours to accommodate the “the working man [who] has time to see a museum only at night” (Neurath 72-73). The Isotype contained universalist aspirations for the “making of a world language, or a helping picture language—[that] will give support to international developments generally” and “educate by the eye” (Neurath 13). Figure 3: Gerd Arntz Isotype Images. (Source: University of Reading.) The Isotype was widely adopted in the postwar era in pre-packaged sets of symbols used in graphic design and wayfinding systems for buildings and transportation networks, but with the socialism of the Neuraths’ peeled away, leaving only the system of logos that we are familiar with from airport washrooms, charts, and public transport maps. Much of the uptake in this symbol language could be traced to increased mobility and tourism, particularly in countries that did not make use of a Roman alphabet. The 1964 Olympics in Tokyo helped pave the way when organisers, fearful of jumbling too many scripts together, opted instead for black and white icons to represent the program of sports that summer. The new focus on the visual was both technologically mediated—cheaper printing and broadcast technologies made the diffusion of image increasingly possible—but also ideologically supported by a growing emphasis on projects that transcended linguistic, ethnic, and national borders. The Olympic symbols gradually morphed into Letraset icons, and, later, symbols in the Unicode Standard, which are the basis for today’s emojis. Wordless signs helped facilitate interconnectedness, but only in the most literal sense; their application was limited primarily to sports mega-events, highway maps, and “brand building”, and they never fulfilled their role as an educational language “to give the different nations a common outlook” (Neurath 18). Universally understood icons, particularly in the form of emojis, point to a rise in visual communication but they have fallen short as a cosmopolitan project, supporting neither the globalisation of Kantian ethics nor the transnational socialism of the Neuraths. Figure 4: Symbols in use. Women's bathroom. 1964 Tokyo Olympics. (Source: The official report of the Organizing Committee.) Counter Education By mid-century, the optimism of a universal symbol language seemed dated, and focus shifted from distillation to discernment. New educational programs presented ways to study images, increasingly reproducible with new technologies, as a language in and of themselves. These methods had their roots in the fin-de-siècle educational reforms of John Dewey, Helen Parkhurst, and Maria Montessori. As early as the 1920s, progressive educators were using highly visual magazines, like National Geographic, as the basis for lesson planning, with the hopes that they would “expose students to edifying and culturally enriching reading” and “develop a more catholic taste or sensibility, representing an important cosmopolitan value” (Hawkins 45). The rise in imagery from previously inaccessible regions helped pupils to see themselves in relation to the larger world (although this connection always came with the presumed superiority of the reader). “Pictorial education in public schools” taught readers—through images—to accept a broader world but, too often, they saw photographs as a “straightforward transcription of the real world” (Hawkins 57). The images of cultures and events presented in Life and National Geographic for the purposes of education and enrichment were now the subject of greater analysis in the classroom, not just as “windows into new worlds” but as cultural products in and of themselves. The emerging visual curriculum aimed to do more than just teach with previously excluded modes (photography, film and comics); it would investigate how images presented and mediated the world. This gained wider appeal with new analytical writing on film, like Raymond Spottiswoode's Grammar of the Film (1950) which sought to formulate the grammatical rules of visual communication (Messaris 181), influenced by semiotics and structural linguistics; the emphasis on grammar can also be seen in far earlier writings on design systems such as Owen Jones’s 1856 The Grammar of Ornament, which also advocated for new, universalising methods in design education (Sloboda 228). The inventorying impulse is on display in books like Donis A. Dondis’s A Primer of Visual Literacy (1973), a text that meditates on visual perception but also functions as an introduction to line and form in the applied arts, picking up where the Bauhaus left off. Dondis enumerates the “syntactical guidelines” of the applied arts with illustrations that are in keeping with 1920s books by Kandinsky and Klee and analyse pictorial elements. However, at the end of the book she shifts focus with two chapters that examine “messaging” and visual literacy explicitly. Dondis predicts that “an intellectual, trained ability to make and understand visual messages is becoming a vital necessity to involvement with communication. It is quite likely that visual literacy will be one of the fundamental measures of education in the last third of our century” (33) and she presses for more programs that incorporate the exploration and analysis of images in tertiary education. Figure 5: Ideal spatial environment for the Blueprint charts, 1970. (Image: Inventory Press.) Visual literacy in education arrived in earnest with a wave of publications in the mid-1970s. They offered ways for students to understand media processes and for teachers to use visual culture as an entry point into complex social and scientific subject matter, tapping into the “visual consciousness of the ‘television generation’” (Fransecky 5). Visual culture was often seen as inherently democratising, a break from stuffiness, the “artificialities of civilisation”, and the “archaic structures” that set sensorial perception apart from scholarship (Dworkin 131-132). Many radical university projects and community education initiatives of the 1960s made use of new media in novel ways: from Maurice Stein and Larry Miller’s fold-out posters accompanying Blueprint for Counter Education (1970) to Emory Douglas’s graphics for The Black Panther newspaper. Blueprint’s text- and image-dense wall charts were made via assemblage and they were imagined less as charts and more as a “matrix of resources” that could be used—and added to—by youth to undertake their own counter education (Cronin 53). These experiments in visual learning helped to break down old hierarchies in education, but their aim was influenced more by countercultural notions of disruption than the universal ideals of cosmopolitanism. From Image as Text to City as Text For a brief period in the 1970s, thinkers like Marshall McLuhan (McLuhan et al., Massage) and artists like Bruno Munari (Tanchis and Munari) collaborated fruitfully with graphic designers to create books that mixed text and image in novel ways. Using new compositional methods, they broke apart traditional printing lock-ups to superimpose photographs, twist text, and bend narrative frames. The most famous work from this era is, undoubtedly, The Medium Is the Massage (1967), McLuhan’s team-up with graphic designer Quentin Fiore, but it was followed by dozens of other books intended to communicate theory and scientific ideas with popularising graphics. Following in the footsteps of McLuhan, many of these texts sought not just to explain an issue but to self-consciously reference their own method of information delivery. These works set the precedent for visual aids (and, to a lesser extent, audio) that launched a diverse, non-hierarchical discourse that was nonetheless bound to tactile artefacts. In 1977, McLuhan helped develop a media textbook for secondary school students called City as Classroom: Understanding Language and Media. It is notable for its direct address style and its focus on investigating spaces outside of the classroom (provocatively, a section on the third page begins with “Should all schools be closed?”). The book follows with a fine-grained analysis of advertising forms in which students are asked to first bring advertisements into class for analysis and later to go out into the city to explore “a man-made environment, a huge warehouse of information, a vast resource to be mined free of charge” (McLuhan et al., City 149). As a document City as Classroom is critical of existing teaching methods, in line with the radical “in the streets” pedagogy of its day. McLuhan’s theories proved particularly salient for the counter education movement, in part because they tapped into a healthy scepticism of advertisers and other image-makers. They also dovetailed with growing discontent with the ad-strew visual environment of cities in the 1970s. Budgets for advertising had mushroomed in the1960s and outdoor advertising “cluttered” cities with billboards and neon, generating “fierce intensities and new hybrid energies” that threatened to throw off the visual equilibrium (McLuhan 74). Visual literacy curricula brought in experiential learning focussed on the legibility of the cities, mapping, and the visualisation of urban issues with social justice implications. The Detroit Geographical Expedition and Institute (DGEI), a “collective endeavour of community research and education” that arose in the aftermath of the 1967 uprisings, is the most storied of the groups that suffused the collection of spatial data with community engagement and organising (Warren et al. 61). The following decades would see a tamed approach to visual literacy that, while still pressing for critical reading, did not upend traditional methods of educational delivery. Figure 6: Beginning a College Program-Assisting Teachers to Develop Visual Literacy Approaches in Public School Classrooms. 1977. ERIC. Searching for Civic Education The visual literacy initiatives formed in the early 1970s both affirmed existing civil society institutions while also asserting the need to better inform the public. Most of the campaigns were sponsored by universities, major libraries, and international groups such as UNESCO, which published its “Declaration on Media Education” in 1982. They noted that “participation” was “essential to the working of a pluralistic and representative democracy” and the “public—users, citizens, individuals, groups ... were too systematically overlooked”. Here, the public is conceived as both “targets of the information and communication process” and users who “should have the last word”. To that end their “continuing education” should be ensured (Study 18). Programs consisted primarily of cognitive “see-scan-analyse” techniques (Little et al.) for younger students but some also sought to bring visual analysis to adult learners via continuing education (often through museums eager to engage more diverse audiences) and more radical popular education programs sponsored by community groups. By the mid-80s, scores of modules had been built around the comprehension of visual media and had become standard educational fare across North America, Australasia, and to a lesser extent, Europe. There was an increasing awareness of the role of data and image presentation in decision-making, as evidenced by the surprising commercial success of Edward Tufte’s 1982 book, The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. Visual literacy—or at least image analysis—was now enmeshed in teaching practice and needed little active advocacy. Scholarly interest in the subject went into a brief period of hibernation in the 1980s and early 1990s, only to be reborn with the arrival of new media distribution technologies (CD-ROMs and then the internet) in classrooms and the widespread availability of digital imaging technology starting in the late 1990s; companies like Adobe distributed free and reduced-fee licences to schools and launched extensive teacher training programs. Visual literacy was reanimated but primarily within a circumscribed academic field of education and data visualisation. Figure 7: Visual Literacy; What Research Says to the Teacher, 1975. National Education Association. USA. Part of the shifting frame of visual literacy has to do with institutional imperatives, particularly in places where austerity measures forced strange alliances between disciplines. What had been a project in alternative education morphed into an uncontested part of the curriculum and a dependable budget line. This shift was already forecasted in 1972 by Harun Farocki who, writing in Filmkritik, noted that funding for new film schools would be difficult to obtain but money might be found for “training in media education … a discipline that could persuade ministers of education, that would at the same time turn the budget restrictions into an advantage, and that would match the functions of art schools” (98). Nearly 50 years later educators are still using media education (rebranded as visual or media literacy) to make the case for fine arts and humanities education. While earlier iterations of visual literacy education were often too reliant on the idea of cracking the “code” of images, they did promote ways of learning that were a deep departure from the rote methods of previous generations. Next-gen curricula frame visual literacy as largely supplemental—a resource, but not a program. By the end of the 20th century, visual literacy had changed from a scholarly interest to a standard resource in the “teacher’s toolkit”, entering into school programs and influencing museum education, corporate training, and the development of public-oriented media (Literacy). An appreciation of image culture was seen as key to creating empathetic global citizens, but its scope was increasingly limited. With rising austerity in the education sector (a shift that preceded the 2008 recession by decades in some countries), art educators, museum enrichment staff, and design researchers need to make a case for why their disciplines were relevant in pedagogical models that are increasingly aimed at “skills-based” and “job ready” teaching. Arts educators worked hard to insert their fields into learning goals for secondary students as visual literacy, with the hope that “literacy” would carry the weight of an educational imperative and not a supplementary field of study. Conclusion For nearly a century, educational initiatives have sought to inculcate a cosmopolitan perspective with a variety of teaching materials and pedagogical reference points. Symbolic languages, like the Isotype, looked to unite disparate people with shared visual forms; while educational initiatives aimed to train the eyes of students to make them more discerning citizens. The term ‘visual literacy’ emerged in the 1960s and has since been deployed in programs with a wide variety of goals. Countercultural initiatives saw it as a prerequisite for popular education from the ground up, but, in the years since, it has been formalised and brought into more staid curricula, often as a sort of shorthand for learning from media and pictures. The grand cosmopolitan vision of a complete ‘visual language’ has been scaled back considerably, but still exists in trace amounts. Processes of globalisation require images to universalise experiences, commodities, and more for people without shared languages. Emoji alphabets and globalese (brands and consumer messaging that are “visual-linguistic” amalgams “increasingly detached from any specific ethnolinguistic group or locality”) are a testament to a mediatised banal cosmopolitanism (Jaworski 231). In this sense, becoming “fluent” in global design vernacular means familiarity with firms and products, an understanding that is aesthetic, not critical. It is very much the beneficiaries of globalisation—both state and commercial actors—who have been able to harness increasingly image-based technologies for their benefit. To take a humorous but nonetheless consequential example, Spanish culinary boosters were able to successfully lobby for a paella emoji (Miller) rather than having a food symbol from a less wealthy country such as a Senegalese jollof or a Morrocan tagine. This trend has gone even further as new forms of visual communication are increasingly streamlined and managed by for-profit media platforms. The ubiquity of these forms of communication and their global reach has made visual literacy more important than ever but it has also fundamentally shifted the endeavour from a graphic sorting practice to a critical piece of social infrastructure that has tremendous political ramifications. Visual literacy campaigns hold out the promise of educating students in an image-based system with the potential to transcend linguistic and cultural boundaries. This cosmopolitan political project has not yet been realised, as the visual literacy frame has drifted into specialised silos of art, design, and digital humanities education. It can help bridge the “incomplete connections” of an increasingly globalised world (Calhoun 112), but it does not have a program in and of itself. Rather, an evolving visual literacy curriculum might be seen as a litmus test for how we imagine the role of images in the world. 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