Auxin dynamics after decapitation are not correlated with the initial growth of axillary buds

One of the first and most enduring roles identified for the plant hormone auxin is the mediation of apical dominance. Many reports have claimed that reduced stem indole-3-acetic acid (IAA) levels and/ or reduced basipetal IAA transport directly or indirectly initiate bud growth in decapitated plants. We have tested whether auxin inhibits the initial stage of bud release, or subsequent stages, in garden pea (Pisum sativum) by providing a rigorous examination of the dynamics of auxin level, auxin transport, and axillary bud growth. We demonstrate that after decapitation, initial bud growth occurs prior to changes in IAA level or transport in surrounding stem tissue and is not prevented by an acropetal supply of exogenous auxin. We also show that auxin transport inhibitors cause a similar auxin depletion as decapitation, but do not stimulate bud growth within our experimental time- frame. These results indicate that decapitation may trigger initial bud growth via an auxin-independent mechanism. We propose that auxin operates after this initial stage, mediating apical dominance via autoregulation of buds that are already in transition toward sustained growth.

The state of history and the empire of metaphysics [Review]

One of the curious things about this challenging book is that its ostensible subject— the Saxon medical and political scientist Hermann Conring (1606–1681)— is not mentioned in the title. Constantin Fasolt argues that we cannot know what Conring really thought or meant in his writings, which means that his topic cannot be Conring as such and must instead be that which occludes our knowledge of him, the titular limits of history. Given that we do in fact learn a good deal about Conring from Fasolt’s book, we can only hope that the decapitation of its subject will be rectified in a subsequent edition, or perhaps by the restorative work of librarians putting together subject headings. And yet Fasolt’s decision is understandable, for Conring is indeed a stalking-horse for a much bigger quarry: historiography and the historical consciousness. By “history” Fasolt understands a way of imposing intelligibility on the world, which is founded on the twin assumptions that the past is gone and unchangeable, and that the meaning of texts can be determined by placing them in their historical contexts (ix). In challenging this mode of intelligibility, Fasolt is not attempting to improve professiona history—it’s already as good as it can be—but to displace it. He regards his work as a declaration of “independence from historical consciousness” (32). At the same time, Fasolt insists that he is not simply jumping from historiography to philosophy, or attempting to preempt history with ontology (37-39). That has been tried by Nietzsche and Heidegger, who have been tainted by Nazism (Fasolt thinks unfairly). It has also been attempted by modern philosophers from Gadamer to Foucault and Charles Taylor who, in failing to address the “violence” that its mode of intelligibility does to the world, have not succeeded in outflanking history. Perhaps, Fasolt wonders, it is only the personal experience of those who have been subject to this violence—the experience of those who have been subject to historical examination—that can break the spell of history. Fasolt’s disclaimer notwithstanding, in the course of these remarks I shall argue that he is indeed jumping from history to philosophy, or attempting to outflank history by subjecting it to a particular metaphysical understanding. I shall do so in part by sketching the recent intellectual history of this move—a historical examination that I hope inflicts as little violence as possible on Fasolt’s argument.