bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Functional Visual Loss.
Authors: Walsh Thomas J.
Published: November 2020

Functional loss of vision or visual fields can present some of the most difficult diagnostic challenges, but even more difficult to diagnose are patients who have, in addition to functional visual loss, an organic disease. No matter how functional the symptoms appear, the clinician has to go that extra step to find any true pathology. This is why different field techniques may be more appropriate than the more sophisticated techniques. A tangent screen, for instance, may be better to control the patient’s response than a Humphrey Visual Field Analyzer. Remember the functional patients get sick, too. Patients with functional field loss can be placed into one of three general groups: neurasthenics, hysterics, or malingerers. The neurasthenic patient usually has many complaints, not limited to the visual system or to one set of visual symptoms such as field loss. The complaints, as well as the degree of field or visual defect, frequently vary from one examination to another, as well as during an examination as fatigue increases. The spiral field is often found in neurasthenic patients. The patient with hysteria, on the other hand, usually has a single ocular complaint. This chapter discusses the hysterical loss of acuity or fields. The usual field defect is a severe tubular type of contraction. The spiral field is sometimes seen in these patients. The malingerer may be the most difficult patient with functional loss, particularly if he has previously been examined by another physician and has acquired more experience with field testing than he had when first examined. The spiral field is not limited to functional loss; it can also be seen as a fatigue phenomenon in sick patients when the field testing is unduly prolonged. Its essential feature is that the field becomes progressively smaller as a specific isopter is tested for a second and third time with the same size of test object. shows all the points that were tested with a 3-mm white test object.
Element 75—Rhenium
Authors: Scerri Eric
Published: November 2020

Th e element rhenium lies two places below manganese in group VII of the periodic table (fi g. 5.1). Its existence was predicted by Mendeleev when he first proposed his periodic table in 1869. This group is rather unique because when the periodic table was first published, it possessed only one known element, manganese, with at least two gaps below it. Th e first gap was eventually filled by element 43, technetium, while the second gap was filled by rhenium. But rhenium was the first to be discovered, in 1925, by Walter Noddack and Ida Tacke (later Noddack) (fi g. 5.2) and Otto Berg in Germany. In the course of an arduously long extraction, they of the ore molybdenite. The German discoverers called their element “rhenium” after Rhenus, Latin for the river Rhine, which fl owed close to the place where they were working. They also believed that they had isolated the other element missing from group 7, or element 43, which eventually became known as technetium, but this was hotly disputed by several other researchers. As recently as the early years of the twenty-first century, research teams from Belgium and the United States reanalyzed the X-ray evidence from the Noddacks and argued that they had in fact isolated element 43. But these further claims have been debated by many radiochemists and physicists and now have been laid to rest, at least for the time being. By a further odd twist of fate, the Japanese chemist Masataka Ogawa believed that he had isolated element 43 and called it nipponium even earlier, in 1908. His claim too was discredited at the time but as recently as 2004 it has been argued that he had in fact isolated rhenium rather than element 43, well before the Noddacks and Berg. Otto Hahn’s first entry into the fi eld of radioactivity was as a student of Ramsay’s at University College, London, just after the beginning of the twentieth century.
Extraction
Authors: Harrison Roger G. , Todd Paul W. , Rudge Scott R. , Petrides Demetri P.
Published: November 2020

Extraction is a process in which two phases come into contact with the objective of transferring a solute or particle from one phase to the other. For the separation and purification of biological products, the phases are most commonly immiscible liquids, and the solute is in soluble form. In certain instances, however, one phase is a liquid and the other phase is a solid; the extraction of caffeine from coffee beans is one example. Although most extractions in biotechnology involve the transfer of soluble bioproducts, organelles and cells have at times been transferred between phases. An organic solvent is often used as the extracting liquid when the solute to be extracted is stable in the organic solvent, typical examples being low molecular weight antibiotics. It is usually not feasible to extract proteins with organic solvents, since proteins are often denatured or degraded as a result of contact with the organic solvent. Proteins can often be successfully extracted by means of two immiscible liquid phases that consist of solutions of two water-soluble but incompatible polymers, or one polymer plus a high concentration of certain salts. Extraction usually comes early in the purification process for a bioproduct and typically would precede a high-resolution step such as chromatography. Extraction is often advantageous because it can bring about a significant reduction in volume and/or can separate the desired product from cells or cell debris. It is desirable to reduce the volume as soon as possible in the process, since large volumes typically lead to large costs. The extractions of interest in the purification of biotechnological and pharmaceutical products are mainly liquid-to-liquid, and this is the emphasis in this chapter. The basic definitions and principles of extraction are developed first, followed by an explanation of scale-up and design procedures for the extractors most commonly used for bioproducts. After completing this chapter, the reader should be able to do the following: • Define and use key constants such as the partition coefficient, solvent-to-feed ratio, and extraction factor. • Explain the factors that affect the partitioning of biomolecules.
The Ti Group and the 5B, 6B, 7B and 8B Heavy Elements
Authors: Schweitzer George K. , Pesterfield Lester L.
Published: November 2020

The elements to be treated in this chapter may be considered to be of three types. All of them show one species which dominates the water domain in the E–pH diagram. The dominant species in the E–pH diagrams and the elements which display it are as follows: (1) an insoluble oxide: Ti, Zr, Hf (Group 4B) and Nb, Ta (Group 5B), (2) a high-oxidation-state anion: Mo, W (Group 6B) and Tc, Re (Group 7B), (3) a noble metal: Ru, Rh, Pd, Os, Ir, Pt (Group 8B). These five elements all show highly stable inert oxides which occupy the majority of the water domain in their E–pH diagrams. This can be seen in Figures 13.1 through 13.5. The three 4B oxides (TiO2, ZrO2, HfO2) are insoluble in HOH, dilute acids, dilute bases, and concentrated bases, but are soluble in strong concentrated acids to give TiO+2, ZrO+2, and HfO+2. The two 5B oxides (Nb2O5, Ta2O5) are insoluble in HOH, dilute acids, and dilute bases, but Nb2O5 dissolves in concentrated bases whereas Ta2O5 does not. All the elements in their highest oxidation state are hard cations and therefore will be particularly attracted to the hard atoms F and O. a. E–pH diagram. The E–pH diagram in Figure 13.1 shows Ti in oxidation states of 0, II, III, and IV. In the legend of the diagram, equations for the lines between the species are presented. Table 13.1 displays ions and compounds of Ti. The metal appears to be very active, but a thin refractory oxide coating renders it inactive to all but extreme treatment. Ions and compounds in oxidation states of II and III are unstable with regard to atmospheric O2 and also with regard to HOH except for Ti+3 in strongly acidic solution. b. Discovery, occurrence, and extraction. Ti, named after the Titans, the mythological first sons of the earth, was discovered by Gregor in 1791 in the mineral menachanite, a variety of ilmenite. The major sources of Ti are the minerals rutile TiO2 and ilmenite FeTiO3. They are treated with Cl2 and C at elevated temperatures to generate gaseous TiCl4 which condenses to a colorless liquid at 136°C.
Down to the Wire
Authors: Orr David W.
Published: November 2020

The real fault line in American politics is not between liberals and conservatives.... It is, rather, in how we orient ourselves to the generations to come who will bear the consequences, for better and for worse, of our actions. So writes David Orr in Down to the Wire, a sober and eloquent assessment of climate destabilization and an urgent call to action. Orr describes how political negligence, an economy based on the insatiable consumption of trivial goods, and a disdain for the well-being of future generations have brought us to the tipping point that biologist Edward O. Wilson calls "the bottleneck." Due to our refusal to live within natural limits, we now face a long emergency of rising temperatures, rising sea-levels, and a host of other related problems that will increasingly undermine human civilization. Climate destabilization to which we are already committed will change everything, and to those betting on quick technological fixes or minor adjustments to the way we live now, Down to the Wire is a major wake-up call. But this is not a doomsday book. Orr offers a wide range of pragmatic, far-reaching proposals--some of which have already been adopted by the Obama administration--for how we might reconnect public policy with rigorous science, bring our economy into alignment with ecological realities, and begin to regard ourselves as planetary trustees for future generations. He offers inspiring real-life examples of people already responding to the major threat to our future. An exacting analysis of where we are in terms of climate change, how we got here, and what we must now do, Down to the Wire is essential reading for those wanting to join in the Great Work of our generation.
Introduction
Authors: Orr David W.
Published: November 2020

In our final hour (2003), cambridge university astronomer Martin Rees concluded that the odds of global civilization surviving to the year 2100 are no better than one in two. His assessment of threats to humankind ranging from climate change to a collision of Earth with an asteroid received good reviews in the science press, but not a peep from any political leader and scant notice from the media. Compare that nonresponse to a hypothetical story reporting, say, that the president had had an affair. The blow-dried electronic pundits, along with politicians of all kinds, would have spared no effort to expose and analyze the situation down to parts per million. But Rees’s was only one of many credible and well-documented warnings from scientists going back decades, including the Fourth Assessment Report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (2007). All were greeted with varying levels of denial, indifference, and misinterpretation, or were simply ignored altogether. It is said to be a crime to cause panic in a crowded theater by yelling “fire” without cause, but is it less criminal not to warn people when the theater is indeed burning? My starting point is the oddly tepid response by U.S. leaders at virtually all levels to global warming, more accurately described as “global destabilization.” I will be as optimistic as a careful reading of the evidence permits and assume that leaders will rouse themselves to act in time to stabilize and then reduce concentrations of greenhouse gases below the level at which we lose control of the climate altogether by the effects of what scientists call “positive carbon cycle feedbacks.” Even so, with a warming approaching or above 2°C we will not escape severe social, economic, and political trauma. In an e-mail to the author on November 19, 2007, ecologist and founder of the Woods Hole Research Center George Woodwell puts it this way: . . . There is an unfortunate fiction abroad that if we can hold the temperature rise to 2 or 3 degrees C we can accommodate the changes. The proposition is the worst of wishful thinking.
The Carbon Connection
Authors: Orr David W.
Published: November 2020

Having seen pictures of the devastation did not prepare me for the reality of New Orleans. Mile after mile of wrecked houses, demolished cars, piles of debris, twisted and downed trees, and dried mud everywhere. We stopped every so often to look into abandoned houses in the 9th Ward and along the shore of Lake Pontchartrain to see things close up: mud lines on the walls, overturned furniture, moldy clothes still hanging in closets, broken toys, a lens from a pair of glasses . . . once cherished and useful objects rendered into junk. Each house had a red circle painted on the front to indicate the results of the search for bodies. Some houses showed the signs of desperation, such as holes punched through ceilings as people tried to escape rising water. The musty smell of decay was everywhere, overlaid with an oily stench. Despair hung like Spanish moss in the hot, dank July air. Ninety miles to the south, the Louisiana delta is rapidly sinking below the rising waters of the Gulf. This is no “natural” process but rather the result of decades of mismanagement of the lower Mississippi, which became federal policy after the great flood of 1927. Sediments that built the richest and most fecund wetlands in the world are now deposited off the continental shelf—part of an ill-conceived effort to tame the river. The result is that the remaining wetlands, starved for sediment, are both eroding and compacting, sinking below the water and perilously close to no return. Oil extraction has done most of the rest of the damage by crisscrossing the marshlands with channels that allow the intrusion of saltwater and storm surges. Wakes from boats have widened the original channels considerably, further unraveling the ecology of the region. The richest fishery in North America and a unique culture that once thrived in the delta are disappearing, and with them the buffer zone that protects New Orleans from hurricanes. “Every 2.7 miles of marsh grass,” in Mike Tidwell’s words, “absorbs a foot of a hurricane’s storm surge” (2003, p. 57).
Argon and the Rest
Authors: Fisher David
Published: November 2020

The discovery of Argon is a great example of how little bitty precise measurements of stuff everyone knows sometimes lead to tremendous leaps of basic knowledge, because we don’t always know what we think we know. The story has a long and meandering lead-in, beginning with Aristotle’s idea that “air” was one of the four earthly primeval elements, an idea which lasted some two thousand years—until the eighteenth century, when an Englishman named Joseph Priestley began to fool around in his homemade laboratory next door to a brewery. Priestley by name, he was also priestly by nature. Educated as a dissenting minister, neither Church of England nor Roman Catholic, he taught and preached in a vigorously antiestablishment manner. Though he supported the American Revolution, he made no enemies in England for that, for there was as large a proportion of Englishmen as Americans who believed that the colonists were in the right. But when, a few years later, he sounded loud public hurrahs for the French Revolution, applauded the beheading of King Louis, and called for the same action against King George, he went a shout too far. Members of parliament called for action against the seditious minister, a mob broke into his home and ravaged it, and all in all he decided it might be time to sail away. He was welcomed in America, where he was honored more for his theology than his scientific work (an opinion which he shared), until his thoughts evolved to the realization that the Christ story was simply an old superstition dressed up in Hebraic dress: God—Zeus, Wotan, Jupiter, Jehovah, take your pick—impregnates a human woman and the resulting child is less godly than the godfather but more so than the human mother. Jesus was only the most recent incarnation of the tale; Pythagoras, Alexander the Great, and a whole host of others share the same superstitious glory. But trying to convince his new compatriots was a losing game; his popularity waned, and the model community he planned was never populated. Never mind. For us his importance lies in his chemical researches, which had been completed twenty years previously in Leeds.
K/Ar and the Irons
Authors: Fisher David
Published: November 2020

One day at Ithaca I had screwed my courage to the sticking point, hopped on my Honda scooter, scooted over to the Ithaca airport, and joined the East Hill Flying Club, an organization that owned a Piper Cub and a Tri-Pacer, and I learned how to fly. I had taken a few lessons at the age of fourteen, but quit when we began to do stalls and my stomach had dropped faster than the plane. Now I found that although I was still scared, I could handle it, and I progressed quickly. Probably the single most terrifying, exhilarating moment in my life was my first solo. I hadn’t yet earned my private pilot’s license, but I was able to fly by myself and was allowed, even encouraged, to take short crosscountry trips. For this—and for me—Ithaca was ideally suited. The Tri-Pacer had a four-hour range at 120 knots cruising speed, and Ithaca was well within flying range of Washington, New England, New York—and Brookhaven. I took off and was soon approaching Long Island Sound, and having second thoughts. Whenever I flew out of sight of the Ithaca airport I not only continually looked around the skies to be sure there were no other planes anywhere near me, I also kept my eyes on the ground, picking out level places where I could put the plane down if the motor in front of me ever quit. Now, approaching the Sound, it looked vast and never-ending, with Long Island nothing but a dim, dark line on the horizon. If the engine quit over that water, if I went down … I turned around, was ashamed of myself, turned back again, turned around again, took a deep breath and headed out over that endless expanse of water. Ten minutes later I was approaching Long Island. I skimmed over Port Jefferson, found the little airport that served the lab, and set her down smoothly. A cab took me to Brookhaven, I said hello to everyone, found Joe Zähringer’s notebooks, and was amazed.
L’Envoi
Authors: Fisher David
Published: November 2020

Churchill’s expression was glorious Rodomontade, but in the end it is still nothing but rodomontade. Understanding the causes of the First World War did not help us to understand the different factors that were operating in 1939, and understanding the results of our isolationism when Hitler began strutting around did not help us avoid the opposite mistakes we made by waging “preventive” war in Vietnam and Iraq. “The past is a different country; they do things differently there,” and we learn nothing from them except that we cannot predict the future. This is true even more with science than with politics. At the end of every century, there is a spate of experts predicting what the new century will bring. But in 1900 no one predicted radio, much less television, or antibiotics or computers or MRI or CAT scans, or cyclotrons or trips to the moon, or even that man might fly. So I cannot pretend that the history written here will tell us what breakthroughs are in store for those working with the noble gases. That’s why they call it research; if you knew what the result of your experiment was going to be, there’d be no point in doing it. I thought I knew what the result of Ray Davis’s neutrino experiment was going to be, and so I thought there was no point in doing it. I was wrong, and glad to be, for it’s the surprises that drive us forward: Rutherford’s helium particles bouncing backwards, the xenon-129 peak poking up beyond where it ought to be, the argon-39 peak appearing where it oughtn’t to be at all, the electrical currents suddenly running wild through the heliumcooled mercury, et cetera and so forth and so on. What’s coming next? I have no idea and, no matter what they tell you, neither does anyone else. Which is what makes it all so exciting. Exactly fifty years after I first met the noble gases at Brookhaven in the summer of 1958, I turned off the mass spectrometer and retired.
A Resourceful and Pedagogical Approach to Teaching Students with Special Needs
Authors: Hammel Alice M. , Hourigan Ryan M.
Published: November 2020

The vignette regarding Gregory introduces an approach to teaching students with special needs that may be new for many music educators (and music education students). Collegiate students are not always given the opportunity to think critically and constructively about adaptations and accommodations for students with special needs prior to graduation from undergraduate school (Hammel, 1999; Nocera, 1979). Skills developed while brainstorming ideas for students via vignettes may assist music educators as they derive strategies for students with special needs in music classrooms. This skill preparation also introduces the idea of a “team approach” when interacting with faculty, administration, students, and families (Ansuini, 1979; Atterbury, 1993). For these reasons, vignettes are included within the text to encourage this process when preparing to teach students with special needs. The most effective approach when working within a school and school system is to become a part of the existing team of professionals (Dalrymple, 1993). Teachers often become compartmentalized when teaching music in another part of the building or when traveling from building to building. Successful child-centered schools function as teams, and active participation is important for each individual teacher as well as for the overall success of the school (Gfeller, Darrow, & Hedden, 1990; Gilbert & Asmus, 1981; Heller, 1994; Williams, 1988). Being proactive and positive can assist teachers as they become involved as integral “team members” within a school. Maintaining a positive and inclusive attitude will increase the view that the music program is an important and necessary component of school life for all students (Ozonoff, Rogers, & Hendren, 2003; Pierce & Schreibman, 1997; Wagner, 1999). Being aware of the students in the music classroom, as well as their academic and behavioral needs, is a critical initial strategy in developing an inclusive scope and sequence for classrooms and ensembles (Hart & Risley, 1975; Prizant & Wetherby, 1998). Knowing that we teach students, with music as a catalyst, and that students come to the music classroom with a variety of independent and individualized needs is important to inclusive-oriented music educators.
The Cloud
Authors: Keats Jonathon
Published: November 2020

“It’s really just complete gibberish,” seethed Larry Ellison when asked about the cloud at a financial analysts’ conference in September 2008. “When is this idiocy going to stop?” By March 2009 the Oracle CEO had answered his own question, in a manner of speaking: in an earnings call to investors, Ellison brazenly peddled Oracle’s own forthcoming software as “cloud-computing ready.” Ellison’s capitulation was inevitable. The cloud is ubiquitous, the catchiest online metaphor since Tim Berners-Lee proposed “a way to link and access information of various kinds” at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) in 1990 and dubbed his creation the WorldWideWeb. In fact while many specific definitions of cloud computing have been advanced by companies seeking to capitalize on the cloud’s popularity—Dell even attempted to trademark the term, unsuccessfully—the cloud has most broadly come to stand for the web, a metaphor for a metaphor reminding us of how unfathomable our era’s signal invention has become. When Berners-Lee conceived the web his ideas were anything but cloudy. His inspiration was hypertext, developed by the computer pioneer Ted Nelson in the 1960s as a means of explicitly linking wide-ranging information in a nonhierarchical way. Nelson envisioned a “docuverse” which he described as “a unified environment available to everyone providing access to this whole space.” In 1980 Berners-Lee implemented this idea in a rudimentary way with a program called Enquire, which he used to cross-reference the software in CERN’s Proton Synchrotron control room. Over the following decade, machines such as the Proton Synchrotron threatened to swamp CERN with scientific data. Looking forward to the Large Hadron Collider, physicists began voicing concern about how they’d ever process their experiments, let alone productively share results with colleagues. Berners-Lee reckoned that, given wide enough implementation, hypertext might rescue them. He submitted a proposal in March 1989 for an “information mesh” accessible to the several thousand CERN employees. “Vague, but interesting,” his boss replied. Adequately encouraged, Berners-Lee spent the next year and a half struggling to refine his idea, and also to find a suitable name.
Descriptive Models
Authors: Singer Donald , Menzie W. David
Published: November 2020

Mineral deposit models play a central role in an information system that will help the policy makers to make their decisions. Ideally, the different kinds of deposit models would provide the necessary and sufficient information to discriminate (1) possible mineralized environments from barren environments, (2) types of known deposits from each other, and (3) mineral deposits from mineral occurrences. Probably the most important part of creating mineral deposit models is the planning stage in which consideration of the purpose and possible uses of the models should determine the character of the models. The way to describe a model is first by thinking about what it is for, about its function, not the list of items that make up its structure (Churchman, 1968). Although there are many fine compendiums of mineral deposit models (Australian Geological Survey Organisation, 1998; Eckstrand, Sinclair, and Thorpe, 1995; Kirkham et al., 1993; Lefebure and Hoy, 1996; Lefebure and Ray, 1995; Roberts and Sheahan, 1988; Rongfu, 1995; Sheahan and Cherry, 1993), the focus in this book is on deposit models applied to quantitative resource assessment. The focus of this chapter is the descriptive aspects of the deposits because the goal is to provide a basis for interpreting geologic observations rather than to provide interpretations in search of examples (Cox, Barton, and Singer, 1986). Thus, the discussion herein is limited to mineral deposit models specifically designed for quantitative assessments such as those in Cox and Singer (1986), Bliss (1992a), Orris and Bliss (1991, 1992), and Rogers et al. (1995). Mineral deposits modeled for three-part assessments are defined as mineral occurrences of sufficient size and grade that they might, under favorable circumstances, be economic. Although history suggests that we can expect discoveries of as-yet-unrecognized deposit types, the three-part assessments discussed here do not include resources from these deposits simply because they cannot be modeled. Most published quantitative mineral resource assessments that have used models have relied upon descriptive and grade-and-tonnage models (chapter 6), which are also the foundations of other kinds of models such as deposit-density models (chapter 4) and economic cost models (chapter 5).
Exploration Risk
Authors: Singer Donald , Menzie W. David
Published: November 2020

It is commonly said that mineral exploration is a risky business, but what does that really mean? Although exploration can be financially rewarding, there is a high probability that a single venture will be a failure. Risk is defined as chance of failure or loss and its adverse consequence (i.e., failure or loss). Risk differs from uncertainty in that uncertainty simply means lack of knowledge of the outcome or result, whereas risk involves a loss. Thus, one could be uncertain of an outcome, but not necessarily be at risk of losing something. In risk analysis, two quantities are estimated: the magnitude (severity) of the possible adverse consequence(s), and the likelihood (probability) of occurrence of each consequence. Procedures of risk analysis are well established, if not simple, and are applied in both business and engineering (Aven, 2003; Bárdossy and Fodor, 2004; Davis and Samis, 2006). Mineral exploration is an economic activity involving risk and uncertainty, so risk also must be defined in an economic context in which the extent of the loss is defined. Successful mineral exploration strategy requires identification of some of the risk sources and consideration of them in the decision-making process so that controllable risk can be reduced. It is not uncommon to see recommendations that exploration firms should accept all projects with positive expected monetary values—that is, projects that have a positive economic value after being multiplied by the probability of deposit discovery and subtraction of exploration costs. Clearly, this strategy would be unwise for a firm with limited resources if the chance of failure were significant. Both expected monetary values and the probabilities of various outcomes such as economic failure should be considered in the decision-making process. Because economic return, when measured by net present value, is closely related to the size of mineral deposits, and because deposit sizes can be represented by highly skewed frequency distributions, achieving expected monetary or higher values tends to be a low-probability outcome. This and the typical rareness of mineral deposits are the fundamental reasons for the high risk in mineral exploration.
Building Materials and Techniques
Authors: Ling Roger , Arthur Paul , Clarke Georgia , Lazer Estelle , Ling Lesley A. , Rush Peter , Waters Andrew
Published: November 2020

Much of the ensuing discussion will focus on the working-out of structural sequences, first within individual houses or parts of houses, then within the insula as a whole. As a preface to this discussion, it is necessary to give a description of the building materials and techniques found in the insula. Brief surveys of Pompeian building techniques have appeared in various publications. Still one of the most serviceable accounts is that of R. C. Carrington in his article ‘Notes on the building materials of Pompeii” published in 1933, and most of the forms of construction found in I10 are discussed therein. First, the materials. The commonest is the socalled ‘Sarno stone’ (often inaccurately called limestone’), a yellowish white calcareous tufa which is very rough and porous, being riddled with the imprints of shells and vegetable matter; it is used both in large blocks to form quoins and the like and in smaller rubble for facing and infilling of all types. Next most common is a hard grey (trachytic) lava which is stronger and more water resistant than Sarno stone but which, because it is less easy to cut into regular shapes, is generally employed in the form of small rubble. An exception to this rule is its use for door thresholds, where its hardness is well suited to withstanding wear and tear. Rather less common in our insula is the red or purple vesicular lava known as cruma (English “scoria”), derived from the frothy upper crust of consolidated lava streams; it is occasionally cut into small blocks but more normally occurs as a sporadic material in rubble wall-facings where Sarno stone and grey lava predominate. The other main lithic materials found in the insula are varieties of tufo (tuff), formed by the consolidation of volcanic ashes. The brown or grey tuff from Nuceria (modern Nocera) is a hard and close-grained material containing darker brown or blackish specks. It can be easily cut to shape when freshly exposed in the quarry but hardens later on contact with the air, so is ideally suited for producing ashlar blocks, small tufelli (blocks of similar size to modern house bricks) and the pyramidal pieces used in reticulate work (opus reticulaium: see below), not to mention carved detail such as column and pilaster capitals.
I 10, 8 and 9
Authors: Ling Roger , Arthur Paul , Clarke Georgia , Lazer Estelle , Ling Lesley A. , Rush Peter , Waters Andrew
Published: November 2020

This complex consists of an atrium-house from which a front room has been separated at a late stage to form an independent shop or workshop. Together they occupy the north-west corner of the insula, the house opening northwards and the shop westwards. Before the shop was separated from it, the house had a relatively broad facade (approx. 14 m.), but the oblique alignment of the insula boundary to the west resulted in a considerable contraction towards the rear. At the southern end of the roofed part of the house, coinciding with the south walls of rooms 10 and 12, the property is only 10 m. wide; and the garden beyond this, thanks primarily to a shift in the line of the eastern boundary becomes even narrower, contracting to less than 8.50 m. As in the Casa del Fabbro, the atrium (1) is set against one of the property boundaries, this time the west rather than the east; but, owing to the greater width of the house, it is broader (from 7.20 to 8.20 m.) and still allows space for a deep room on the east. The impluvium is centrally positioned in relation to the short (south) side. The fauces, however, enters the atrium somewhat off-centre, 3.80 m. from the northeast corner and 2.70 m. from the north-west, presumably in order to obtain three more or less equally sized rooms on the north facade. As the plot contracts toward the rear, this tripartite division becomes more difficult; the outlying rooms, on the west side particularly are uncomfortably narrow and cramped. Of the three rooms on the north front, the westernmost is the one which in the final period had become a shop with an independent entrance (I 10, 9); it had formerly been a corner room opening from the atrium via a doorway immediately adjacent to the fauces, but this doorway was blocked and a new entrance, 2.30 m. wide, quoined in opus listatum, was opened in the west wall (Pl 90). The lava threshold (Fig. 61) points to fittings typical of a shop: a separate pivoted door and vertical planks set overlapping in a groove.
Discussion
Authors: Ling Roger , Arthur Paul , Clarke Georgia , Lazer Estelle , Ling Lesley A. , Rush Peter , Waters Andrew
Published: November 2020

Before looking in more general terms at the pattern of development in the insula, we may make a number of preliminary points. First of all, it bears repeating that the process of change which we have outlined was continuous, and that by classifying it in phases we have inevitably simplified the picture. Just because a particular intervention can be assigned to a time when, say, walls were being painted in the Third Style, we should not think of it as a unique, compartmentalized phenomenon; the insula was constantly evolving, and it would have continued to evolve had the eruption of AD 79 not put a stop to the process. Our phases are merely a convenient way of trying to impose some kind of chronological pattern on the chain of events. In all probability changes took place more frequently and in a more piecemeal fashion than is normally realized. It is, of course, difficult to be precise about this, because our methods of dating are too unsophisticated for the necessary fine tuning; but we may suspect that, for every major rebuilding programme, there were many minor adjustments and modifications which have left no trace, or virtually no trace, in the archaeological record. And such adjustments may have happened within relatively brief periods. One has only to look at houses in modern Britain to appreciate the nature and the frequency of the alterations which they tend to undergo, ranging from the blocking or opening of windows to loft conversions and the addition of new wings. The house in which the present writer lives has been radically enlarged on two occasions, as well as having a doorway blocked, most of the windows replaced, and part of the roof redesigned—all within the space of thirty five years, and mostly in separate operations, in other words in what can technically be regarded as distinct phases. However much the archaeologist would like to divide a building’s history into broad and clear-cut chronological categories, the reality of the situation will probably more often than not have been far more complex.
Asia and the Far East: Emerging and Re-emerging Diseases
Authors: Smallman-Raynor Matthew , Cliff Andrew
Published: November 2020

In the last chapter, our consideration of camp epidemics ended with an examination of a strange and debilitating illness that, prior to World War II, was hardly known to medical science—Q fever or ‘Balkan grippe’. Historically, Q fever is one of many seemingly ‘new’ diseases that have suddenly and unexpectedly erupted into military conciousness. In Chapter 2, for example, we saw how maladies such as the mysterious English sweating sickness, along with venereal syphilis, typhus fever, and yellow fever, appeared—ostensibly for the first time—in association with wars of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries. More recently, trench fever (World War I, 1914–18), scrub typhus (World War II, 1939–45) and Korean haemorrhagic fever (Korean War, 1950–3) provide twentieth-century examples of the emergence phenomenon (Macpherson et al., 1922–3; Philip, 1948; Gajdusek, 1956). At the same time, wars have also served to fuel the epidemic re-emergence of many classical diseases, of which human plague (Vietnam War, 1964–73), visceral leishmaniasis (Sudanese Civil War, 1956–), and diphtheria (Tajikistan Civil War, 1992–) are recent instances (Velimirovic, 1972; Seaman et al., 1996; Keshavjee and Becerra, 2000). In the present chapter, we develop the theme of war and disease emergence and re-emergence, taking selected conflicts and diseases in the Asian and Far Eastern theatres to provide examples. We begin in Sect. 9.2 by locating war within the broader conceptual framework of emerging and re-emerging diseases. Subsequent sections examine the wartime emergence of three zoonoses which, on their novel appearance in deployed western troops, prompted a series of landmark epidemiological investigations into the diseases concerned: scrub typhus among Allied forces in Burma–India during World War II (Sect. 9.3) and Japanese encephalitis and Korean haemorrhagic fever in the UN Command during the Korean War (Sect. 9.4). We then turn to the wartime re-emergence of classical diseases, illustrating the theme with reference to US troops (malaria) and Vietnamese civilians (human plague) during the Vietnam War (Sect. 9.5). The chapter is concluded in Section 9.6.
Manufacturing Culture
Authors: Gertler Meric S.
Published: November 2020

This book presents a new conception of industrial practice and firm behavior. It explains how the cultures that shape the practices of firms and the trajectories of regional and national economies are actually produced. The analysis shows how the internal and inter-firm organization of production, use of technologies, and the industrial knowledge underpinning these practices are strongly influenced by their social and institutional context.
Capital, Technology, and Economic Performance
Authors: Gertler Meric S.
Published: November 2020

Across economic doctrines of all stripes, one of the eternal verities is that capital plays a crucial role in determining the path and rate of growth in advanced economies. Contemporary work in geography, regional economics, and planning has reinforced this view, attesting to the key influence of investment—and investors—on the economic vitality of localities and regions. However, until comparatively recently, both our theoretical apparatus for understanding the role of capital in regional development and our collected body of empirical evidence to illuminate this process were rather limited (Gertler 1984b; 1987). Our understanding of the investment process has developed along new lines of theoretical inquiry only since the mid-1980s. At the macroeconomic scale, economists have attacked the study of growth theory with renewed vigour, in an attempt to incorporate some of the most important attributes of the capitalist system—such as technological change and scale economies—that had hitherto defied easy reconciliation with accepted theories of economic growth (Romer 1986; 1990a, b). At the microeconomic scale, the results of a set of detailed, firm-level studies in several countries have forced a reappraisal of the accepted wisdom concerning the relationship between investment, productivity, and firm performance (Meurer, Sobel, and Wolfe 1987; Gertler 1993). Within this second avenue of progress, economic geography has made an important contribution to our understanding of the process by which mobile financial capital becomes ‘fixed’ in place as productive apparatus. Furthermore, this work has suggested important implications for the objectives and shape of industrial policy intervention. In this chapter I shall consider two fundamental questions: one that is more general in nature and another that is explicitly geographical. First, why have the returns from investment in new manufacturing technologies frequently been so disappointing? In addressing this question, I shall critically review some of the more significant insights produced by the ‘new growth theory’ in economics. This literature argues that investment is the motive force for technological change, since new capital goods by definition embody new, productivity-enhancing technologies. I demonstrate the extreme limitations of this perspective, drawing on the important conceptual and empirical work of economic geographers, economic sociologists, and other social scientists in the process.
Human Resources Management
Authors: Dale Peter , McLaughlin John
Published: November 2020

Effective human resources management is a key ingredient in building and sustaining a country’s land administration infrastructure. Whether it is building new systems or reforming existing ones, the recruitment, training, provision of support for, and evaluation of employees will ultimately be far more important than matters pertaining to technology and process. Yet traditionally, human resources management has not been given much serious attention in the land administration field. Within the broader public administration arena, however, the human resources management function is increasingly being recognized as a central organizational concern and that ‘its performance and delivery are integrated into line management; the aims shift from merely securing compliance to the more ambitious one of winning commitment. The employee resource, therefore, becomes worth investing in, and training and development thus assume a higher profile’ (Storey 1991). What distinguishes modern human resources management from the more traditional personnel functions is its focus on utilizing human resources to strategic management objectives. Effective human resources management seeks to: 1. link human resources management issues to the overall strategy of an organization; 2. build strong organizational cultures aimed at uniting employees through a shared set of goals and values (‘quality’, ‘service’, ‘innovation’, etc.) and by promoting a commonality of interests amongst employees and management; 3. recognize employees as a resource, as social capital that can be developed and can contribute to competitive advantage; 4. replace traditional top-down communication, coupled with controlled information flow, to a sharing of information and knowledge; and 5. achieve flexibility and adaptability to manage change and innovation in response to rapid changing circumstances (Burt and Spector 1985). This section examines briefly some of the principal human resources management issues, particularly as they relate to developing countries. The focus will be on concerns within the public sector (where most of the core land administration activity occurs), the broader issues of developing local capacity in both the public and private sectors, and the requirements for developing professional associations. Significant emphasis has been given in recent years to the challenges of building and sustaining institutions for capable public sector administration in the developing world.
Geomorphology
Authors: Butler David R.
Published: November 2020

Geomorphology is the science that studies landforms and landforming processes. Topics of research in geomorphology during the 1990s represent the diversity of the discipline, as practiced by both academics and nonacademic applied geographers in government and private positions. Discussions on the role and importance of scientific theory and social relevance in geomorphology have become increasingly common, although agreement has not been forthcoming. Issues of scale, both spatial and temporal, appear at the forefront of many current papers in the discipline, but little consensus has been reached as to what constitutes the appropriate scale for studies in geomorphology. The use of a broad diversity of research tools also characterizes American geomorphology, including fieldwork, computer and/or laboratory modeling, surface exposure dating, historical archival work, remote sensing, global positioning systems, and geographic information systems. Problems arise, however, when attempting to integrate the results of fine-scale fieldwork with coarser-scaled simulation models. The 1990s saw a renewed debate in the role of scientific theory in geomorphology. Prominent in that debate were issues of temporal and spatial scale. Significant discussions, culminating in the 2000 Binghamton Symposium on the integration of computer modeling and fieldwork in geomorphology, were also engendered by perceived clashes between the roles of fieldwork and the “new technology” in geomorphology. The 1990s have seen continuing interest in defining the role of geomorphology as a science. Most geomorphologists have accepted applied geomorphology (in the sense of Sherman 1989) as a logical extension of the environmental linkages of the science. The social relevancy of geomorphological research can be established without sacrificing the intellectual core of the discipline (Sherman 1994). However, questions continue as to what actually constitutes “the scientific nature of geomorphology”. Rhoads and Thorn (1993) raised the question of the role of theory in geomorphology in an essay that ultimately led to the 1996 Binghamton Symposium on the scientific nature of the discipline (Rhoads and Thorn 1996). Their goals in hosting the symposium were to “initiate a broad examination of contemporary perspectives on the scientific nature of geomorphology. This initial exploration of methodological and philosophical diversity within geomorphology is viewed as a necessary first step in the search for common ground among the diverse group of scientists who consider themselves geomorphologists” (ibid. p. x).