Is it the ’science of attraction’, or is it the ‘attraction of science’?
by Nils Lindahl Elliot
Every so often the news media come up with a headline that suggests that scientists have proven that some social stereotype—or what might be described more generally as an ideological relation—is a matter of nature, that is to say, of our ‘natural’ biology. Sexism seems to be a particularly attractive ideology. In the BBC alone, the following are some of the headlines that have appeared over the last few years: ‘“Hormonal” women most attractive’; ‘Attraction “determined by walk”’; ‘Slim waist holds sway in history’; and ‘Hourglass figure fertility link’. It would appear, in this sense, that there is a ’symbiotic’ relationship between a group of psychologists engaged in what is often described ‘the science of attraction’, and some media editors who apparently are willing to publicise whatever ’science of attraction’ is sent their way. In such cases it would seem that ‘sex sells’, as combined with ‘science must be true’, is irresistibly attractive—I’m tempted to say, tongue in cheek, ‘biologically attractive’—to some journalists. The result is a dynamic that may well develop and sustain rather disturbing conceptions—ideological conceptions—of the nature of sexuality.
A week ago a number of different news media carried the latest installment of this kind of story, and in this essay I would like to offer an analysis that explains why we should treat most, if not all such stories with the deepest skepticism.
In the installment in question, the BBC news online claimed that ‘Wearing red boosts attraction’ and this was followed by a series of equally extraordinary statements:
‘Women who don a little red dress before going out with a man may find their date more attentive and generous, according to scientists.’ ‘Men said they would spend more money on a woman pictured in red, compared with the same woman wearing a blue shirt.’‘Experts say that red signals ovulation or attractiveness in other species.’And ‘The researchers say that their study is clear evidence that the colour red makes men feel more amorous – even if this is only on a subconscious level’(1).
Part of the power of such statements is that they combine tacit appeals to what seems like good common sense with the authority of science: ‘the researchers say’, ‘there is clear evidence’, ‘according to the scientists’,'experts say…’ and so forth. This would appear to be a win-win situation for everyone: the journalists can claim that they are reporting on scientific findings, a practice which is likely to be especially lauded by those who want to see more ‘educational contents’ or ‘high culture’ in the media; a real or imagined public can learn about research that might have a direct bearing on their everyday lives; and of course, the scientists might well get a career boost by being able to boast that their research has ‘made headlines’. In fact, such coverage is actually a ‘lose-lose’ situation for at least two groups: the members of the public that get conned into thinking that human sexuality is hard-wired to our ‘biological heritage’; and whatever social group ends up being objectified by any ‘ism’ that is allegedly ‘proven’ by the scientists: racism, ethnocentrism, or in this case, sexism.
After seeing all the media coverage, I decided to acquire the original essay from the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology (Andrew J. Elliot & Daniela Niesta’s ‘Romantic red: red enhances men’s attraction to women’). What I read confirmed my fears: the research was sociobiological in its orientation, and engaged in the kind of quasi-scientific reasoning that is so often the hallmark of the type of psychology in question.
* * *
Let us begin this critique with the basics. Sociobiology refers to the members of a de facto movement that includes the scientists and social scientists who employ positivist research methods in an effort to demonstrate that one or another aspect of human social practice is biologically determined. The movement includes such household names as Desmond Morris (The Naked Ape), Richard Dawkins (The Blind Watchmaker) and more recently, Robert (Lord) Winston, the doctor and TV presenter who fronted The Human Instinct and several other BBC series. Perhaps its most widely admired advocate, and arguably the founder of the movement, is the renowned myrmecologist, E.O. Wilson (Sociobiology and On Human Nature), who summed up the movement’s discourse when he told another sociobiologist (Steven Pinker) that ‘everything that’s in the body, including the brain and the action of the mind, is obedient to the laws of physics and chemistry as we understand it[sic]’. According to Wilson, ‘there is a unity of the sciences’—a ‘consilience’ —‘through a network of cause and effect explanations in physics, biology and even the lower reaches of the social sciences.’ In the same interview, Wilson suggested that he is intent on conducting a re-examination of ‘the basic theory and contents of sociobiology, beginning with insects and eventually coming back to humans’(2).
If we adopt a sufficiently cosmic perspective, this must be a valid perspective. Think, for a moment, of the sheer vastness of the universe. Then think of the minute time and space that we humans occupy in that universe. Does it not make good sense to say that the differences between an ant and a human are insignificant when considered in the context of such an incomprehensibly vast space and time? And, given the verity of this observation, should we not also accept that we humans must be subject to the kinds of forces described by what Wilson refers to as a ‘network of cause and effect explanations’?
On one level of analysis—the level or perspective defined by the sociobiologists themselves—the answers to all of the above questions must be affirmative. Indeed, some would perhaps argue that it is dangerous to contradict the sociobiological logic at a time when religious fundamentalists the world over are arguably doing their best to return us to what might eventually become a form of theocracy. Not all sociobiologists oppose science and religion, but I hope I’m right when I say that sociobiologists sharply (and rightly) oppose the kind of literal interpretation of the Bible that would have our forebears munching on illicit apples in pretty gardens just a few thousand years ago.
The problem is that the level of analysis determined by many if not most sociobiologists is fundamentally biased when it comes to explaining humans—biased in favour of a biologically determinist world view, and a positivist conception of science. Move beyond either of these ‘isms’, and zoom in on the different species a bit, and you will suddenly find that, actually, we humans are quite different from ants, and that maybe we should use rather different forms of explanation to account for many, if not most aspects of each other’s behaviour.
* * *
Let us go back to ‘Romantic Red’. Those who have studied and critiqued sociobiology (as applied to humans) over the years will soon recognise a familiar modus operandi in the research of Elliot and Niesta. A detailed account of this pattern would transform this already long essay into a very long essay, so I will try to be brief. If the mentioned modus operandi can be summed up as a series of ’stages’, then the following is a sketch of the stages.
The first stage involves choosing some social practice to research. It could be any social practice, but many sociobiologists tend to choose practices that involve social stereotypes, and/or some form of social objectification–one infamous example involved trying to ‘prove’ that Blacks are indeed ‘less intelligent’ than Whites. In the case of Elliot and Niesta, the subject chosen for analysis is what they describe as the hypothesis that ‘red leads men to view women as more attractive and more sexually desirable. Red is hypothesized to serve as an aphrodisiac for men because it carries the meaning of sex and romance in the context of heterosexual interaction’(3). This choice means that, from the outset, the researchers have adopted the predominant, conventional, and homocentric stance regarding matters of sexual attraction: even if the focus is ostensively on men, the ultimate object of research is arguably the reception of the biology, or what is represented as the biology, of women.
I will return to the fateful character of this choice below. Here it is more important to note that the second stage in sociobiological research of this kind typically involves deciding, mainly if not entirely on the basis of circumstantial evidence, that the practice to be researched is ‘universal’. Doing so is a prerequisite for a biologically determinist discourse: if it’s ‘natural’, it must be ‘universal’ to humans (unless, of course, one subscribes to a racist view of humans, which some sociobiologists do).
In the case of Elliot and Niesta’s essay, the hypothesis is justified in a manner that reminded me of Jorge Luis Borges’ famous reference to a ‘Chinese’ [sic] encyclopaedia. I quote in its entirety the passage with the ‘evidence’ of the ‘universal’ nature of what the authors describe as ‘societal use of red’:
‘In some of the earliest rituals known to anthropologists, red ochre was used as face and body paint on females to symbolize the emergence of fertility (Knight, Powers, & Watts, 1995; Kohn, 1999; Lee, 2006). Red often appears as a symbol of passion, lust, and fertility in ancient mythology and folklore (Barua, 1962; Erdoes & Ortiz, 1984; Hupka, Zaleski, Otto, Reidl, & Tarabrina, 1997; Hutchings, 2004; Jobes, 1962). In literature, red has repeatedly been associated with female sexuality, especially illicit sexuality, most famously in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic work The Scarlet Letter. Likewise, in popular stage and film, there are many instances in which red clothing, especially a red dress, has been used to represent passion or sexuality (e.g., A Streetcar Named Desire, Dial M for Murder, and Jezebel; Greenfield, 2005). Red is paired with hearts on Valentine’s Day to symbolize romantic affection and is a highly popular color for women’s lingerie. Red has been used for centuries to signal sexual availability or “open for business” in red-light districts. Women commonly use red lipstick and rouge to heighten their attractiveness, a practice that has been in place at least since the time of the ancient Egyptians (10,000 BCE; Regas & Kozlowski, 1998)’(4).
Societal use of red, indeed. The above paragraph is an excellent illustration of the kind of poor common sense that sociobiologists frequently muster to defend what tends to be, from the start, little more than a universalising discourse. If this is the kind of ‘evidence’ that the research is based on, then every other aspect of the research must be suspect. The point is not to deny that a certain association between ‘red’—a huge and by no means unproblematic category or abstract singular(5)—and sexuality might be present in more than one cultural context. The point is that if one is going to make the kinds of universal claims that the authors make, it had better be based on much, much stronger evidence. And a key aspect of this must involve a far closer, and contextual analysis of the possible meanings of different uses of different reds in, and across, cultural contexts.
The third stage is to suggest that the practice in question is ultimately a function of nature, i.e. of a biology conceived in opposition to, or at least as transcending, contemporary social practice. This operation involves an exceedingly slippery politics. One the one hand, the research effectively seeks to reduce social practice to its ostensibly ‘natural’ causes; in effect, the ’social’ becomes no more than a kind of continuous ‘function’ of the biological. But at the same time, sociobiologists cannot help but oppose culture and nature on the level of their own discourse. I noted this contradiction in the work of E.O. Wilson himself in my book Mediating Nature (see pp. 19-20). Amongst other philosophers, Kate Soper has done an excellent job of revealing the extent to which the nature-culture opposition remains a tacit, if much reviled aspect of modern discourses about the nature of nature. As she puts it, ‘Whether… it is claimed that “nature” and “culture” are clearly differentiated realms or that no hard and fast delineation can be made between them, all such thinking is tacitly reliant on the humanity-nature antithesis itself and would have no purchase on our understanding without it’ (6). One of the philosophical problems of sociobiology is that many of its advocates try, discursively speaking, to have it both ways: in the interview mentioned earlier, Wilson, for example, makes the case that we humans are little different from ants, but in his very beautifully written book, The Diversity of Life, he himself speaks of ‘the nonhuman world’(7).
In the case of ‘Romantic Red’, the authors have no sooner made a common sense case for universal ‘societal uses of red’, than they engage in a similar form of argumentation to suggest that the ‘red-sex link’ is a matter of our ‘biological heritage’:
‘Although it is possible that the red–sex link is a product of societal conditioning alone, there is reason to believe that it may also have roots in our biological heritage. Many nonhuman female primates display red on their genitals, perineum, chest, or face when nearing ovulation (Dixson, 1983; Gerald, 2003; Hrdy & Whitten, 1987; Setchell, Wickings, & Knapp, 2006). This reddening of the skin is due to elevated estrogen (relative to progesterone) levels; increased estrogen enhances vascular blood flow under the skin surface that is manifested as red coloration (Dixson & Herbert, 1977). In some species, these displays are highly conspicuous, such as the exaggerated red swelling of the perineum in baboons, chimpanzees, and macaques, whereas in other species these displays are far less prominent, as in the slight reddening of the vulva in gibbons, gorillas, and strepsirhines (Barelli, Heistermann, Boesch, & Reichard, 2007; Sillen-Tullberg & Moller, 1993). The precise function of red coloration in female primates, both across species and across various manifestations, remains a matter of debate (Nunn, 1999; Setchell & Wickings, 2004; Stallman & Froehlich, 2000), but there is widespread consensus that it represents a sexual signal designed to attract mates (Deschner, Heistermann, Hodges, & Boesch, 2004). Research has shown that male primates are indeed particularly attracted to female conspecifics exhibiting red, as indicated by increased masturbation and copulation attempts (Bielert, Girolami, & Jowell, 1989; Waitt, Gerald, Little, & Krasielburd, 2006)’[8].
Several aspects of this argument are worth deconstructing. The authors accept that, as they put it, ‘the red–sex link’ may be ‘a product of societal conditioning alone’. But note that the expression arguably has the paradoxical function of normalizing what has by no means been proven, viz. that there is a universal ‘societal’ ‘red-sex link’. Note also that the authors acknowledge, albeit in passing, that not all nonhuman female primates display red on their genitals, perineum, chest, or face when nearing ovulation. They also acknowledge that ‘the precise function of red coloration in female primates, both across species and across various manifestations, remains a matter of debate’. Yet this counter-evidence is, in effect, swept under the carpet of the following suggestions: first, that there is in fact a ‘consensus’ in favour of a definite ‘red-sex link’ in primates; and second, that there is additional evidence that ‘male primates are indeed particularly attracted to female conspecifics exhibiting red (Witcher, Campbell, & Green, 1998)’.
As far as I can tell, the authors’ own arguments suggest that, in the best of cases, the evidence for a ‘red-sex link’ amongst nonhuman primates is ambiguous. The implication, as we are invited to read on about humans’ biology, is nonetheless that we humans ‘also’ have such a link, albeit a less conspicuous one:
‘For human females, ovulation is not advertised in a conspicuous manner, but researchers are beginning to document the presence of subtle physiological, psychological, and behavioral markers of reproductive status. As with other female primates, women’s estrogen–progesterone ratio is elevated near ovulation, which enhances blood flow (Fortney et al., 1988; Lynn, McCord, & Halliwell, 2007). In addition, women’s general skin tone lightens mid-cycle (Van den Berghe & Frost, 1986), and women near ovulation tend to wear clothing that leaves more skin visible (Grammer, Renninger, & Fischer, 2005; Haselton, Mortezaie, Pillsworth, Bleske-Rechek, & Fredrick, 2007). Furthermore, women at mid-cycle report more sexual interest and are more easily sexually aroused (Bullivant et al., 2004; Slob, Bax, Hop, Rowland, & van der Werflen Bosch, 1996), meaning the red blush of flirtation (on the face, neck, and upper chest; Eibl-Eiblsfeldt, 1989; Keltner & Buswell, 1997) and the red flush of sexual excitation (which begins on the lower chest and spreads to the upper chest, neck, and face as excitation increases; Katchadourian, 1984) are more prevalent at this time. As such, it is likely that women, like other female primates, display red more often and more prominently when nearing ovulation. We also think it reasonable to posit that men, like their more primitive male relatives, are predisposed to interpret a display of red by a female conspecific as a sexual signal and to respond accordingly’(9).
Here again, the paragraph begins by admitting that in humans, female ovulation is not advertised in a conspicuous manner. Pursued to its logical conclusion, this point alone might bring the scaffolding for any biologically determinist interpretation of the ‘red-sex link’ crashing down. Instead, the authors pursue the evidence, if it can be called that, of ‘subtle’ changes associated with human ovulation. Several of the changes seem to be based on unhelpful generalisations in their own right: for example, what is the relevance to the argument that there is ‘a lightening of skin tone’? To be sure, does such a lightening happen to all women, and would it be perceptible in all women? Is it really the case that all women near ovulation (‘near ovulation’?) ‘wear clothing that leaves more skin visible’ in all contexts? Does ‘sexual interest’ or even ‘sexual arousal’ automatically lead to a ‘red blush of flirtation’ (or to reverse the order, does flirtation always involve a red blush)? And is any such blush really ’subtle’? If one is going to use such terms in the context of a positivist epistemology, one had better develop pretty discrete and measurable categories (to be clear, I’m not arguing in favour of such categories; I am simply picking up where the authors’ own use of positivism has significant problems.)
To return to the researchers’ argument: even after the authors admit that women don’t have the kind of conspicuous changes associated with some primates, they seem to suggest that women do, in effect, become red, or at any rate, redder during ovulation: ‘As such, it is likely that women, like other female primates, display red more often and more prominently when nearing ovulation(emphasis added)’. Eh? As far as I can tell, either there is a contradiction here—are humans like other primates, or aren’t they?— or the authors need to develop a theory of tacit, unconscious, or unselfconscious ‘displays’.
Towards the end of the section that justifies the hypothesis, Elliot and Niesta bring together the two theoretical houses of cards in one sweeping statement, the italicized aspect of which establishes a typically sociobiological hierarchy, and order of priority:
‘In sum, red is clearly linked to sex in the context of heterosexual interaction, and this link is viewed as emerging from both societal use of red and a biologically engrained predisposition to red. These two sources may contribute to the red–sex link in joint fashion. That is, we posit that the societal use of red is not random, but actually derives from the biologically based predisposition to perceive red as a sexual signal. For example, the aforementioned use of red lipstick and rouge may represent, at least in some instances, an attempt to mimic the vascularization present during ovulation and sexual excitation (Low, 1979). Likewise, red may be used in red-light districts because it is the color that appears on the sexually aroused female body (not only in the publicly visible sexual flush, but, more intimately, in the engorgement of the labia minora; Luria, Friedman, & Rose, 1987). As these examples illustrate, the societal use of red can be seen as not only reinforcing the inherent meaning of red, but also as extending the application of this meaning beyond the tether of natural bodily processes’(italics added, 10).
The next stage in the sociobiological modus operandi is usually to ‘prove’ the hypothesis by way of the hypothetico-deductive method, i.e. employing one or more experiments designed to enable the experimenter to deduce whether some universal ‘law’ is valid or not.
In the case of ‘Romantic Red’, there is clearly nothing like a ‘law’ to be proven. But the manner in which the ‘proof’ itself is conducted is revealing. In this post I will merely mention one particularly glaring deficiency: it might be assumed that a research project involving a huge claim regarding the universality of the ‘red-sex link’ would involve thousands, if not tens of thousands of research subjects spanning cultures across the globe. Instead, the researchers use 27 ‘male undergraduates in the United States’ for the first experiment; 63 male and female undergraduates for the second experiment; 37 male undergraduates for the third experiment; and 31 male undergraduates for the fourth experiment. More than the tiny numbers—given the universality of the claims—what is striking is the sociological, to not say statistical naiveté of the researchers, and presumably of those who conducted any peer review of the essay. Do they really believe that 181 members of a relatively homogeneous social group—young people, all of them presumably studying in the same university—can be used to make such huge claims about the ‘red-sex link’? (I say 181, but the number might actually have been a lot lower if some of the respondents were allowed to participate in more than one experiment; to be sure, the claims of the research are arguably as good as any one of the experiments, in which a maximum of 37 male respondents participated.)
* * *
I think I’ve said enough about the logic of the research to show just how seriously flawed it is. Let us now move on to consider to what happened to the research after it was published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. This is typically the next, and ‘final’ stage in this kind of research: as noted earlier, many sociobiologists seem to be very good at getting the news media to publicise their research; or at least, many seem to be very good at producing research that appeals to some of the news media. This step is crucial because it ensures that the research acquires a salience that it wouldn’t attain otherwise. And with that salience there arguably comes power—potentially, academic promotion, but also, a certain cultural authority that goes with wide social recognition. The point is not to criticise Elliot and Niesta for seeking a wider audience for their research, if indeed they were at all involved in the publicity (PR departments in universities frequently take over this process, and academics don’t necessarily control how their research is promoted or recontextualized). In the case of ‘Romantic Red’, it is nevertheless possible to see how the two dimensions (the research, and its representation) came together in a way that might well facilitate sexual objectification, i.e. what is commonly known as sexism.
On the one hand, the research sets out to prove, in effect, that what matters most in sexual attraction is the biology of women, as perceived by men. There is arguably a double whammy at work here: not only is the explanatory focus on women’s biology, but men are tacitly portrayed as the ones that do the perceiving of, or gazing upon, that biology.
On the other hand, the BBC article not only echoes this standpoint, but amplifies and extends it: red becomes a ‘booster’ for sexual attraction—full stop—and somehow, a ‘little red dress’ becomes a part of the equation. For good measure—and this is an aspect that the authors themselves have put into their research methodology—it is claimed that wearing red will also get the men to spend more money on the women. All other mediating aspects are eliminated, in favour of just one ‘factor’: wearing red, or rather, women wearing red. In a seemingly effortless recombination, sexual objectification and capitalism are made mixed, matched, and legitimised. What matters, or so the article suggests, as ‘backed up’ by the research, is for the woman to make herself sexually attractive by way of red, and this will ensure that the money and the ‘amorous feelings’ get going. Thank god (and/or complex evolutionary processes) that life is not so simple.
* * *
I can well imagine what the sociobiologists’ rejoinder might be: are you suggesting that our biology is not an important aspect of sexual attraction? No; of course it is important. The problem emerges when certain social and cultural aspects are ignored; or when the social aspects are reduced to little more than a natural function of an ‘underlying’ biology, a ‘biological heritage’. This is what is known as methodological functionalism at its worst. If the power of the social aspects is ignored, or if false claims are made about the power of ‘nature’, and such claims are then taken to be an ‘objective truth’, then someone is likely to end up being misled, if not disempowered. After all, it is widely assumed that what is ‘natural’ cannot be changed. In the case of ‘Romantic Red’, what is, by the authors’ own admission, potentially ‘a product of societal conditioning [sic] alone’, is in the end reduced to a matter of biology: ‘we posit that the societal use of red is not random, but actually derives from the biologically based predisposition to perceive red as a sexual signal.’ In the paper’s conclusion the authors further state that
‘The practical implications of our findings are striking in the extent of their reach. That red is an aphrodisiac for men is not only valuable information for both men and women in the mating game, but should also prove of considerable interest to fashion and image consultants, product designers, and marketers and advertisers, among (many) others. Given the subtlety of the effect (men show little awareness of it) and the ease with which the effect may be evoked (via a 5-s glimpse of red), it is easy to imagine red having a widespread influence in daily life’(emphasis added, 11).
Easy to imagine, but not so easy to prove: the authors belatedly recognise towards the end of their essay that further research might need to consider the social context. With some effort, a case might be made that the journalists should have noted this in the recontextualisation of the research. This, however, is somewhat disingenuous. On the one hand, the entire research methodology and epistemology is biased in favour of biological determinism. On the other hand, it is not exactly a secret that many journalists tend to accentuate and caricature much of the science that they popularise. In the context of a society that arguably remains deeply if subtly sexist, it is hardly surprising that the BBC reporter(s) have not only reproduced the biologically determinist and universalizing orientation of the research, but have actually extended its claims: as noted earlier, it is not only that ‘Wearing red boosts attraction’—a headline that might lead men to start wearing red shirts!—but also that ‘Women who don a little red dress before going out with a man may find their date more attentive and generous, according to scientists’ (BBC, as per the earlier quote).
Earlier, I mentioned that sociobiology, as applied to humans, is premised on a positivist epistemology. This is perhaps the most grievous aspect of the research design. Despite the authors’ early suggestions to the contrary, the research continues to be haunted by its reliance on what one scholar has described as the ‘rule of phenomenalism’(12)—simplifying somewhat, the notion that essences are no different from phenomena, or, put even more simply, that any given practice is more or less unidimensional in the sense that its meaning is fixed. ‘Romantic Red’ arguably constitutes a de facto return to the rule of phenomenalism in so far as it effectively tries to affix the meaning of ‘red’ to an allegedly biological function—a function which either transcends, or is itself expressed by, any social practice. Such a fixing—in every sense of the word—is potentially dynamite from the point of view of sexual politics. I have noted elsewhere the way in which modern institutions have silently humanized ‘nature’ only to project the humanized nature back onto cultural groups via procedures of cosmomorphism (see Mediating Nature, p. 42ff). Such a circuit of anthropomorphism and cosmomorphism might well be one of the consequences of ‘Romantic Red’. What chance, one might ask, does a more liberated, and progressive sexual politics have if many men and women believe, on the back of this kind of research, that when it comes to sex—or at least ’sex’ as it relates to ‘red’—we are no more (and no less) than gibbons, macaques or chimpanzees? The problem is not to twist science in favour of a certain sexual politics, but rather to make sure that a certain science does not end up twisting our sexual politics.
References
(1) http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7693708.stm, accessed November 5, 2008. The research attracted the attention of several other news media. See for example, the Los Angeles Times coverage at http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/booster_shots/2008/10/color-red-is-an.html.
(2) in http://www.edge.org/3rd_culture/wilson03/wilson_print.html, accessed November 5, 2008.
(3) Elliot, A.J. & Niesta, D. (2008] ‘Romantic red: red enhances men’s attraction to women’ in Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 95(5): 1150-1164, p. 1150.
(4) Elliot & Niesta Op. Cit., p. 1151.
(5) Williams, R. (1983) Keywords: A Vocabulary of Culture and Society. Revised edition. London: Fontana.
(6) Soper, K. (1995) What is Nature? Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 15.
(7) Wilson, E.O. (1992) The Diversity of Life. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, p. 9.
[8] Elliot & Niesta Op. Cit., p. 1151.
(9) Elliot & Niesta Op. Cit., p. 1151.
(10) Elliot & Niesta Op. Cit., p. 1151.
(11) Elliot & Niesta Op. Cit., p. 1161.
(12) Kolokowski, L. (1972) Positivist philosophy : from Hume to the Vienna Circle / Leszek Kolakowski translated [from the Polish] by Norbert Guterman.
Copyright © 2008 Nils Lindahl Elliot All Rights Reserved
