 Just in time because I saw the beetle coming out already. Let's get David Jonson from Team 15. Put your PowerPoint ready. Good afternoon everyone. I have no PowerPoint, but let me tell you a little story. We're team teaching a class in the University College on bullying. My co-instructor, a sociologist, tries to find out how it occurs and why. As a philosopher, I try to find out why we think it is wrong. Together with the students, we want to understand bullying in all its complexity. We ask the students who has been involved in a bullying situation. Most hands go up. And who is responsible for bullying? The hands unanimously point to the bully. My co-instructor suggests that bystanders are just as responsible. Most frequently, bullies bully to increase their social status. And that's exactly what bystanders give them. The bully casts a spell and the bystanders are so enthralled by it, they turn it into a social rule. Do not interfere. However, this comes at a price. Just like the victim, bystanders prove to suffer psychological distress and even damage simply by watching and doing nothing. So in fact, they have a very good reason to stop standing by and to interfere in their own interest. A student objects, isn't that a selfish reason to interfere? What about the suffering of the victim? Another student goes even further. Shouldn't we regard bullying as intrinsically bad, regardless of what it does to any of those involved? These questions are my cue. I tell the students that they have just conjured up the ghost of Immanuel Kant. This German 18th century philosopher struggled with the same questions. He suggested two ways to make sure you do the right thing because it is the right thing to do, regardless of self-interest or any other considerations. The first one, make sure that the principle you're acting upon could be a universal law. That is, one that would apply to everyone, including yourself. This means that if you decide to be a bystander, you'll have to accept that somewhere in the future others would simply stand by while you are bullied. If you can't accept that in the future, why would you do so now? The second one, make sure that you treat no one, not even yourself, merely as a tool. We have dignity. We don't want to be simply treated as means to the ends of others. But isn't that exactly what bullying does, and not just to the victim, but also to the bystanders? Aren't they also turned into mere props and accessories of the bully's social status game? Thus, we conclude there are two good reasons for not being a bystander, other than standing up for the victim. You're not only protecting your own mental well-being, but you're also stopping a violation of human dignity, including your own. Just at the end of the session, a student asks a question to which I don't have a ready answer. Isn't dignity essential to our mental well-being? And are those two dimensions, the social and the ethical, the descriptive and the normative, all that different? The question keeps reverberating long after the class. A few days later, I'm preparing for another class, and I come across a concept which was recently introduced by an American psychologist and classicist, moral injury. Moral injury occurs when we are involved in what is called a betrayal of what is right, and we feel deeply ashamed and angered. It is descriptive and normative, psychological and moral, social and cultural, all at the same time. Thinking back of our class, the question suddenly appears in a wholly new light. Doesn't bullying also involve moral injury? If so, it seems that a lot of interdisciplinary work is necessary, not only to successfully study it, but also to find ways to fight it and to restore and uphold mental health and resilience. What's the point of my story? A few considerations. I would not have come to this insight without interdisciplinary team teaching in a liberal arts and sciences setting. Team teaching challenges me to look, to reason, to discover, and to argue across and beyond the boundaries of disciplines. Moreover, team teaching has taught me things about my own field that I would not have discovered without it. Yes, I, as well as some of my co-instructors for that matter, I have converted teaching discoveries into bona fide academic research publications. But that's not the point. The point is that we propose to view teaching as research. In fact, we propose to drop the distinction between teaching and research altogether. Here are three arguments why. One, a university is a community in which all of those involve students and professor search for the truth, try to clarify what they do and don't know, and report on it to the world, both the academic and the non-academic. The only difference is that professors have been around a little longer than the students. Two, academic publication is simply put reporting on what one has found out and what one does not, does and doesn't know. So there's no essential difference between writing a midterm paper, teaching presentation, writing an article for a scholarly journal and teaching a class. Three, impact and valorization mean the lasting and beneficial effect of academic activity on the world inside and outside academia. This applies not only to publishing in a journals, getting invited to expert panels and talk shows and securing patents. It also applies to educating students to develop themselves into skilled, responsible, critical, imaginative, empathic, resilient human beings, citizens and professionals. Let me sum it up in Latin. Do quendo disquimus. We learn by teaching. It's high time for us to value teaching and research on equal footing, precisely because we should value teaching as research. Thank you very much.