As a field of knowledge History is exceptionally interested in the particular and specific rather than the universal and general – it is primarily idiographic rather than nomothetic. It is also centrally concerned with change over time. These two characteristics make History fundamentally a storytelling discipline. Its findings are most often presented in narrative form. Of course, many books do not follow one narrative from cover to cover. But research findings are most often presented as stories – not as reports of particular key results (as, for example, in a scientific lab report) or as the results of statistical analysis. Nomothetic disciplines tend toward examining a relatively narrow set of features of multiple cases in order to create generalizing theories and establish laws of regularity that define what will happen under a given set of circumstances at any and all times and places. History instead usually aims to organize into a coherent interpretation many features of a single case, exploring in detail what happened at a particular time, in a particular place. It often also aims to give us a complex, multifactor causal explanation of why it happened as it did, but usually that causal explanation is embedded in the narrative.

Chapter 1 introduces evolution theory and evolutionary explanation for studies of East Asian international relations and lays out the design of the whole book

Hegel’s Philosophy of Nature is integrated into the fabric of his system. We absorb into our thinking the concepts and relationships that have survived the successes and failures of experience (Phenomenology). Through disciplined thought we articulate the internal logic of those concepts (Logic). By working out what the world beyond thought would be like, seeing how the world instantiates those expectations, and then building those discoveries into our next ventures, we develop a systematic picture of the stages of natural complexity and human functioning (Philosophies of Nature and Spirit). Since Hegel’s time, however, we have discovered that nature has a history; time and space are no longer absolutes; the discoveries of science have expanded in both breadth and detail; and our comprehensive explanations for the way the world functions are continually being falsified by the discovery of new facts. A philosophy of nature, then, needs to reshape the way reason functions. Adopting the strategies we use to solve problems and that science uses to develop and test hypotheses, we broaden our perspective to cover multiple domains in nature and search for patterns that show how and why they fit together as they do.

The chapter begins with the observation that global history has an ambivalent attitude towards explanation. In many cases, the mere presentation of sources and voices from many different parts of the world seems sufficient to justify a global approach. The need for explanation is ignored or even denied. In other cases, global explanation is eagerly pursued, but often at the expense of more complex explanatory models that incorporate factors at different scales. In this perspective, global explanations are claimed to be inherently superior and a privileged way of explaining historical phenomena. After a cursory survey of current positions on causality and explanation in general methodology and ‘formal’ historical theory, the chapter proposes a brief typology of explanatory strategies. It goes on to discuss the peculiarities of explanation within a framework of connections across great distances and cultural boundaries. The much-exclaimed concept of narrative explanation is found to be of limited value, as it underestimates the difficulties of producing coherent narratives on a global scale. Concepts offered in the social science literature, such as the analysis of mechanisms and temporal sequences, could be helpful in refining purely narrative approaches to explanation.

The chapter delves into the specific kind of understanding aimed at in medicine, starting from the Understanding Thesis. Drawing on recent work by Broadbent (2019), debates in the epistemology of understanding (Kvanvig 2009; Grimm 2012; Khalifa 2017), and scholarship on the aims of inquiry, the chapter unpacks what it means to understand something, differentiating types of understanding, and using the history of scurvy to explore understanding a disease in medicine. The hypothesis is that biomedical understanding of a disease requires grasping a mechanistic explanation of the disease. This understanding of causal and constitutive relationships draws on an influential account of causation (Woodward 2003; 2010; 2015) and work on mechanistic explanations in biological sciences and neuroscience (Thagard 2003; 2005; Craver 2007; Nervi 2010; Kaplan and Craver 2011; Darrason 2018). However, it argues that biomedical understanding is necessary but not sufficient for clinical understanding, which combines biomedical understanding of a disease with personal understanding of an illness. This chapter revisits the distinction between "understanding" and "explanation" from debates in the field.

Communication of results of research is a critical step in science and entails all the other topics we have covered in relation to methodology. This communication usually is a written report (e.g., for a thesis or dissertation, granting agency, or journal article) or for presentation (e.g., poster session, conference presentation). In these different formats, there are common goals and requirements. In each format, the researcher’s challenge is to convey why the question that guides research is important and the way in which it has been addressed in the study is suitable. Methodology plays major roles throughout the processes of planning, conducting, interpreting, and communicating research results. Three interrelated tasks are involved in preparing a manuscript whether for a thesis, dissertation, presentation or journal article. These were described as description, explanation, and contextualization of the study. The writing we are routinely taught in science focuses on description, but the other portions are central as well and determine whether a study not only appears to be important but also in fact actually is. Recommendations were made regarding what to address and how to incorporate description, explanation, and contextualization within the different sections of a manuscript (e.g., Introduction, Method). In addition, questions were provided to direct the researcher to the types of issues reviewers are likely to ask about a manuscript.

This chapter details the practical, theoretical, and philosophical aspects of experimental science. It discusses how one chooses a project, performs experiments, interprets the resulting data, makes inferences, and develops and tests theories. It then asks the question, "are our theories accurate representations of the natural world, that is, do they reflect reality?" Surprisingly, this is not an easy question to answer. Scientists assume so, but are they warranted in this assumption? Realists say "yes," but anti-realists argue that realism is simply a mental representation of the world as we perceive it, that is, metaphysical in nature. Regardless of one's sense of reality, the fact remains that science has been and continues to be of tremendous practical value. It would have to be a miracle if our knowledge and manipulation of the nature were not real. Even if they were, how do we know they are true in an absolute sense, not just relative to our own experience? This is a thorny philosophical question, the answer to which depends on the context in which it is asked. The take-home message for the practicing scientist is "never assume your results are true."

In Chapter 3 I propose that a literary work “is any text produced for publication or broadcast, and in any genre or format”. This definition offers no assessment of the value or quality of that text because I do not subscribe to the notion that literary works – including in the misnamed genre known as “literary fiction” – are somehow “high brow” or of a higher quality, standard or value than works in other genres. Thus, all mention in this guide of “literary texts” should be read in reference to the full gamut of:

• fiction genres – including “genre fiction”, historical fiction, contemporary fiction, young adult fiction, science fiction, fantasy, romance etc.

• non-fiction genres – including creative non-fiction, memoir, auto/biography, textbooks, guidebooks, dictionaries and reference works etc.

• long-form and short-form texts published electronically and online, including websites, blogs and social media.

Hegel intends to prove two different claims about purposive connections in his Logic: (1) that teleology is the truth of mechanism and (2) that inner purposiveness is the truth of the external reference-to-an-end. I devote this chapter to the analysis of the first of these arguments. To this end, I introduce Hegel’s concept of ‘mechanism’, whose main ingredient is the idea that mechanisms are determined as causes merely from without. This feature disqualifies mechanisms as self-sufficient explainers. I compare Hegel’s understanding of this shortcoming with Hume’s and Kant’s misgivings about the cognition of causal relations. For Hegel, mechanical causes are in themselves apparent and the relations they maintain with other causes are in themselves contingent. It is this essential contingency of the ‘necessary’ that makes Hegel judge mechanical relations to be untrue. Mechanical objects with indeterminate causal powers appear essentially as means and, hence, hypothetically subordinated to self-determining causes.

Can there be something like a “Wittgensteinian” literary criticism? If so, what could it possibly be, given that Wittgenstein sought to make us give up the craving for generality? Through an analysis of “The Avoidance of Love,” Stanley Cavell’s epochal 1969 essay on King Lear, Toril Moi shows that a reader inspired by Wittgenstein does not have to set out to apply a given theory, or to answer certain “Wittgensteinian” questions. Rather it entails a wish to acknowledge the concerns of the text, and respond to them. For Wittgensteinian critics, the text is not an object to be “approached” but action and expression. The critic sets out to answer questions that matter to her, and stakes herself in her own perceptions and judgments in the act of reading. “The problem of the critic, as of the artist,” Cavell writes, “is not to discount his subjectivity, but to include it; not to overcome it in agreement, but to master it in exemplary ways.” To do this requires training. This chapter sets out the implications of all these claims, argues against formalist views of literature and reading, and insists on the fundamental role of human judgment, and acknowledgment in the work of criticism.