This book provides the best text-book style introduction to Applied Behavior Analysis there is. The writing is straight-forward and well-organized. The only thing one could wish for is a second edition, but in the foreword it states they promised their families that there woulnd't be one :) That's ok, it provides all the groundwork one needs to read and understand the literature since then.

I work as a behavioral consultant for children with autism and have read hundreds of ABA-related books -- good, bad, and ugly. I first came into contact with this one while getting my Masters in ABA from Columbia U. It was the foundation of several of my courses and definitely the source I return to most often in my consulting work. The book is expensive but well, well worth it. I highly recommend it. Here's a chapter list so that you can judge for yourself:

1. Definition & Characteristics of ABA... 2. Basic Concepts (behavior, respondent/operant conditioning, reinforcers, and three-term contingencies)... 3. Selecting & Defining Target Behavior... 4. Measuring & Recording Behavior... 5. Planning & Directing Observational Procedures... 6. Production & Interpretation of Graphic Data Displays... 7. Introduction to Analysis... 8. Reversal & Alternating Treatment Designs... 9. Multiple Baseline & Changing Criterion Designs... 10. Planning, Replicating & Evaluating Research in ABA... 11. Operant Reinforcement... 12. Schedules of Reinforcement... 13. Stimulus Control... 14. Behavioral Shaping... 15. Behavior Chains... 16. Imitation... 17. Extinction... 18. Decreasing Behavior with Differential Reinforcement... 19. Punishment by Contingent Presentation of a Stimulus... 20. Overcorrection... 21. Time Out from Positive Reinforcement... 22. Response Cost... 23. Contingency Contracting... 24. Token Economy... 25. Group-Oriented Contingencies... 26. Self-Management... 27. Promoting the Generality of Behavior Change... 28. Communicating the Results of Behavior Change Efforts...

-- (also includes references, glossary, and name and subject indices)

This book is definitely a great reference book as well as an excellent text book. It is very specific and truly informational. I would recommend it to anyone thinking of going into ABA

The cataclysmic events both inside and outside the Muslim world since 9/11 have caused some serious collateral damage. Inter-religious dialogue has suffered a severe setback as a result of the increased antagonism between Muslims and non-Muslims. Especially progressive Muslim thinkers are now in an even less enviable position than before. In their attempts to find ouvertures these potential bridge-builders between modern western thought and Islamic discourse are often vilified by less open-minded fellow Muslims. In today's climate poisoned with suspicion, these intellectuals face a real danger of being stonewalled or considered mere apologists in the West as well.

The only way out of this deadlock of mistrust is to take note of the views and ideas of these often original thinkers. "Islam and Modernity: Muslim Intellectuals Respond" is a volume of essays in which some innovative Muslim thinkers are either presented and interpreted by Islamic studies specialists or given opportunity to speak for themselves.

After an introduction by Derek Hopwood, sketching the intellectual climate in which the debate on cultural heritage and response to outside influences is grounded in the world of Islam, followed by an essay on modernist influences on 19th century Urdu literature, John Cooper analyzes the contributions of Iran's controversial philosopher of science, 'Abd al-Karim Soroush, to the debate on the "Islamization of knowledge". A pharmacologist by training, Soroush also engages in penetrating studies of traditionalism and Islamic philosophy. Although he was very much involved in the educational reforms taking place in the wake of Iran's Islamic revolution, Soroush has nevertheless been able to retain an independent intellectual stand. Cooper explains that he succeeded in doing so because "[h]e began to present a more personalized discourse, in which his intellectual autobiography came to figure prominently [..]". In his argumentations for new trajectories towards knowledge Soroush uses elements from the entire Islamic intellectual spectrum: Persian poetry, ideas borrowed from revivalism, mysticism, and scriptural studies are employed to trace genealogies and suggest a new Islamic epistemology.

Andreas Christmann presents a micro-level study of the Damascus-based preacher Shaikh Muhammad Sa'id Ramadan al-Buti. The essay is based on field-work in which he has researched the biography of this representative of the traditional 'ulama or religious scholars, and the influences his ideas have had, mainly through the modern media of radio and TV.

Nadia Abu-Zahra's survey of the liberal writer on Islam, Husayn Ahmed Amin, shows that his main focus is on the importance of correct knowledge of Islamic history and consideration for social circumstances in the development and implementation of Islamic law or Shari'a. Together these will make Muslims aware that Shari'a law developed centuries ago and that its stipulations have failed to keep pace with new social conditions. In adapting to these new circumstances, Muslims can enhance their confidence in their Islamic identity. That such a reform has failed sofar is, among others, due to the misconception of the Prophet's infallibility, ignoring the fact that many of the Prophet's actions were driven by political and economic interests, and the isolationist attitudes of later generations of jurists. In a detailed analysis of Amin's argumentation on the basis of historical and scriptural studies, the author points out several inconsistencies in Amin's reasonings.

The Sudanese reformist Mahmud Muhammad Taha has paid the ultimate price for his modernist thinking: in 1985 he was condemned to death on charges of apostacy and executed. Mohamed Mahmoud's essay focusses mainly on the thinker's most influential work: "The Second Message of Islam". Taha may be characterized as a universalist and gnostic, as such his thought was not so different from certain strands of Sufism.
Taha's philosophy is permeated by two interrelated problems: the relationship between individual and society, and man's relationship to the universe. Taha's starting point that "in Islam the individual is the end. Everything else, including the Qur'an and the religion of Islam itself, are means to that end.", makes him a true humanist. Further on Mohamad Mahmoud explains that Taha's evolutionary perspective on religion induces him to take Islam as a living, endless process rather than a doctrine pregnant with dogmatism.
The author then takes us through some intriguing concepts that Taha's philosophy touched upon: original and subsidiary revelations, jihad, gender, slavery, the position of democracy.

According to Ronald Nettler, Tunesian-born mediaevist Mohamed Talbi has made a significant contribution to modernist Islamic religious thought in the later half of the twentieth century. Central themes in Talbi's thinking are the contextuality of scriptural exegesis, man's innate pluralism, and the provisionality of all knowledge. Interestingly, Talbi acknowledges his intellectual debt to the Christian theologian Hans Kueng for his views on interreligious relations.

The Moroccan Mohamed Abed Jabri is a professional philosopher, who has engaged in the debate on how Muslims can accommodate concepts like democracy and human rights in their conceptional world. Central to his thinking are notions such as ethical princple and rationality. Abdou Filali-Ansari's essay contains an interesting exposition on Jabri's view of secularism, serving as an illustration of the invasion of the theological field by 'secular' intellectuals.

From a similar mold, but decidedly post-modernist in tone, is the essay by Mohammed Arkoun, an expert on Islamic philosophy. He makes a case for differentiation between 'Qur'an-as-fact' and 'Islam-as-fact' on the basis of historical, sociological and linguistic research, without losing sight of the influence that ideologies have on the formation of 'meaning'.

Another thinker who has suffered the consequences of his innovative approaches to Islamic studies is Nasr Hamid Abu Zaid, who had to seek refuge in the Netherlands after being sued for apostacy in Egypt. He suggests that semiotic methods can be fruitfully applied to the study of Qur'an. His essay, dealing with the textuality of the Qur'an, illuminates Islamic notions of 'text', 'language' and 'semantics'. He emphasizes, however, that textual particularities must be studied in their historical context, and that the text's interpretation is absolutely human and therefore infinitely diverse.

All in all, this collection of essays makes an excellent companion volume to any of the vast number of books on political Islam.

John Cooper's Noble Street taught me more about America's race and poverty problems than any history book would ever dare try to. Noble Street is hysterically funny and frighteningly sad. Having read this book I am painfully aware of three things: American racism is uglier than our imaginations will allow us to believe, nobody can destroy a child like a parent, and no one can save a child like a parent. Mabel Scriven is a true American hero who proves that love and faith may not conquer racism and injustice, but they are definitely our best weapons against it. After reading Noble Street you will never again believe that poverty and familial disintegration solely result from the choices of their victims. John Cooper makes it clear that if people had this kind of choice, poverty would not exist in America.

Russell F. Weigley writes that "anyone seriously interested in U.S. military history should benefit from this small but encyclopedic book. General readers, buffs, reenacters, students and professionals should all be able to make use of it. In every way the authors deserve commendation for making an apparently modest little book into a volume of exceptional usefulness."

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the tale of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism arises almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which has become the archetypical protagonist in our own American westerns. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used, and over-used, today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn -- until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have, in Cooper's own words, seen the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. If you give this book a chance and bear with some of the heavy nineteenth century prose, it will prove out in the end. An exciting and worthwhile read.

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the story of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism has arisen almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which has become the archetypical protagonist in our own American westerns. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used and over-used today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have seen, in Cooper's own words, the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. -- Stuart W. Mirsky (mirsky@ix.netcom.com

Set in upstate New York in colonial times, Cooper here tells the story of the stolid colonial scout Hawkeye, nee Natty Bumppo (don't ask), who, with his two Indian companions Chingachgook (the Big Snake) and his son Uncas (apparently newly come to manhood), stumble on a party of British soldiers conducting two fair maidens to their father, the commander of British Fort William Henry during the French and Indian War. Under the watchful eyes of the young British officer who has the girls in his charge and led by a Huron scout, Magua, the party appears, to the indomitable Hawkeye, to be at greater risk than they realize as they trek through the wilderness toward the safety of the girls' father's garrison. And, indeed, Hawkeye's judgement is soon proved right as the scout Magua treacherously betrays the hapless girls in repayment, it seems, for a stint of corporal punishment inflicted on him previously by their absent parent. Since the Hurons, Magua's native tribe, are culturally akin to the Iroquois who are the herditary enemies of the Algonquin Delawares, from whom Chingachgook and his son hail and among whom Hawkeye has made his home and friendships, a natural antagonism has arisen almost at once between Hawkeye's party and the Huron and this proves salutary, when danger finally strikes. The tale quickly becomes a matter of flight and pursuit through thickly overgrown primeval forests, over rough mountains and across broad open lakes as the beleagured travelers first elude and then flee the dreaded Iroquois (allies of the French) who have joined the renegade Huron in an effort to seize the two girls. After a brief respite within the safety of William Henry however, the tables are once again turned as Magua's perfidy puts the girls once more at risk. And now the story shifts to a manic pursuit of the fleeing Magua who means to carry off his human prey in order to finally have his revenge on the girls' father, on the British and on the Europeans, generally, whose presence in his native country he blames (not altogether unjustifiably) for his myriad travails. Written in the fine tradition of the 19th century romance (which, of course, is what this book is), Cooper picked up where Sir Walter Scott (the venerable founder of this particular novelistic tradition) left off, creating a rich historical tale of adventure, nobility and marvelously sketched characters set against a brilliantly detailed natural landscape. If his characters are less keenly drawn than Scott's they are no less memorable for, in the quiet nobility of the scout Hawkeye lies the strong, silent hero of the wilderness which was to become the archetypical protagonist of the American western. And the Indians, Chingachgook and Uncas, are the very prototypes of the noble savage, so much used and over-used today. This is a tale of action first and foremost without much plot but so well told that you barely notice, as our heroes flee and pursue their enemies in turn until the very quickness of the prose seems to mirror and embody the speed of the action. Nor is this book only to be read for its rapid-fire rendition of flight and pursuit, for it touches the reader on another level as well, as the bold young Uncas moves out ahead of his comrades to place himself at risk for the others and the woman he loves. Although we never see Uncas at anything but a distance and never get to know the man he is supposed to be, he is yet a symbol of that people of whom he is the last chiefly descendant, the Delaware Mohicans. Nobly born into the finest of Mohican bloodlines, Uncas faces his final trial with heroic energy and resolve in order to defeat the nefarious and twisted Magua. Yet this struggle is also the final footnote in the story of a people, marking the closing chapter for all those Indians who, with the Mohicans, have seen, in Cooper's words, the morning of their nation and the inevitable nightfall which must follow. The book is a bit short on characterization and plotting and the prose is heavy for modern tastes, but the action is richly visualized in the flow of the narrative and the images are compelling. In the end, despite its flaws, this book of Cooper's is, in fact, the classic we have been told it is. -- S. W. Mirsky