The Road to Atheism V: Moral Certainty

Nine years of Catholic elementary school, then it was on toward the Catholic highschool. I’m not sure what the public school students took instead of religion class, but we had it. Everyday for thirty nine minutes, for four years we were in our Catholic Religion class. The first year, I have mentioned, was bible class. For me, having gone to the elementary school, it was pretty boring and I spent most of the time flipping through the bible looking for stories of war and sex (there are a few). I don’t exactly remember what the second year religion class covered. A quick visit to Google tells me that the first year wasn’t just the bible, it was the Old Testament. Sophomore year, was the New testament and the seven sacraments. These two years are merely historical in nature, with the end of the second being more theological but not delving entirely into theology. Neither of these classes contributed much into my current status. It would be nice for me, now, to say that I somehow noticed the contradictions in the story–but that would be dishonest. I grew up with the stories, I believed them because I grew up with them. I had no reason to think that such contradictions mattered. Especially, because, Catholics are not bible literalists.

The third year was where things got heated. Third year religion began inquiries into morality, specifically Catholic morality for obvious reasons. I couldn’t really explain what my morality was prior to this class, I had some of my own ideas but for the most part I subscribed to the idea that a person was immoral if they harmed other people purposefully. For other issues I just conceded to the religious ideas that I was taught. This class was susposed to explain how the Catholic church arrived at their moral compass, and how they handled certain issues that did not appear in the bible (like abortion for instance).

I may consider the conclusions that the Catholic church arrives at to be incorrect, but I will not fault them on method. Being a Catholic priest means that the man has gone to many many classes. The people they gather to consider issues of moral worth have long debates about the topics, they even have advocates for the opposing position. Famously, the church hired super atheist Christopher Hitchens, to argue against the beautification of Mother Theresa. They do consider all points of view on these things to their great credit. This was instructed to us, I felt that this meant we were free to disagree with their ideas. This was an error.

As I must honestly credit them, I must also criticize. One thing that always stuck in my mind was the idea of infallibility. The Holy See, has this attribute that once it decrees something that decree is universally true for all people in the view of the Church. It can’t be argued with for any reason other than as an exercise in intellecutal debate. That debate must always end with agreement. This is one of the lasting contributions that the Roman Empire gave to Roman Catholicism, once the emperor has made a declaration it might as well have been coming from god himself. Upon learning this I thought it was odd that anyone could hang a cross in the same room as the American flag. Didn’t my history class down the hall teach me that this country was founded on the idea that such royal edicts wouldn’t be tolerated?

The issue we were discussing was Euthanasia, “the good death.” The Church opposes it. I disagreed. Now, I disagreed because I didn’t see the difference between refusing treatment and overdosing on pain medication, if every other circumstance was the same. To me, it seemed like the Church was splitting hairs. You can let them die on their own but you can’t do something that kills them? Letting them die was the same thing to me, it was mere rationalization to say that it was different. An act of ommission was still an “act” and to say otherwise was ridiculous. I said as much to the priest and was promptly sent out of the room. The only difference was that this time I was being sent to his office, rather than to linger in the hall. I knew I was in trouble, but again all I had done in my mind was state an objection.

I sat in his office waiting for the bell that signaled the end of class. It would be nice to write about the fear and dread of what was coming. However I possessed that youthful defiance that teenagers possessed. I knew two things: that I hadn’t done anything wrong as in breaking the code of conduct in the class. We were engaged in a debate, so that much was simple. The second thing was that he could only give me detention. Sure he could give me a week if he felt necessary but I didn’t warrant the dreaded Saturday detention, I knew the rule book enough to know that. He walked in, and the first thing I did was apologize for the manner of my position.

My reflection during that period of time, did lead me to one realization: I had yelled the part about splitting hairs. I had also called the rationalization “crap.” Bad form indeed.

The first thing he said was that it may be hard to accept a theory that conflicts with some personal event.

“Personal event.” In his view, the only way that I could be disagreeing is because I had a relative or friend that this happened to. This was not the case. I was disagreeing with the idea because it was a terrible idea. Infallibility isn’t just the notion that you were never wrong but that you are incapable of being wrong. This is of course wrong. I knew that you couldn’t split this hair, although the church wasn’t just saying that it could but that I must. This was the first moral disagreement I had and it was based entirely on theory. The person who decided that an incurable painful disease shouldn’t have to endure suffering just to postpone the inevitable wasn’t immoral. He wasn’t hurting anyone, if anything he was reducing the amount of pain in the world. To say that otherwise was objectionable to me. Not only did the morality of the church now come into question, but the whole authority of the Pope himself was now suspect. I disagreed and while that gave me a bit of trepidation it quickly passed. This was also the first time I ever seriously questioned a teacher, and came out knowing that I was right.

I realized that ecclesiastical authority was based on my consent and this time I wasn’t giving it. I was certainly on the path to freedom from religion at this point.

 

Oh, and I didn’t get detention either. I was just told to keep it down.

Designing an Argument (my non-Academic version of the Stoicism paper)

Every now and again it crops back up in the news where some group tries to make sure that biology isn’t taught in biology class. That’s what the story actually is, we can get into some discussion that’s about whether or not god exists, or whether the schools are trying to make sure that their students become atheists, or however it gets spun. The real story is that Christian Fundamentalists, who take their revised edition of the bible literally, want to make sure that no one learns that the bible could not be taken literally, and thus biology cannot be taken as biology. So they come up with the idea that controversial ideas should not be taught in schools. Tennessee has recently passed a law that forbids the teachings of scientific ideas in science classes, this from the birthplace of Al Gore (as it also contains global warming–another “controversial” issue to those who make up controversy).

As readers well know, I’m an atheist, but I try really hard to not be a dick about it. It doesn’t help to be that way as it just feeds into the stereotype that already exists. The first mistake that ID people make is conflating two different definitions of the word “theory.” Scientifically a theory is a tested hypothesis that has been thus far confirmed, like gravity. Sure there may be some questions about how it works, or more importantly why, but its been tested and retested and labelled confirmed. I don’t know when the scientific community decided to do away with the word “law” but its gone. The more common use of the word theory is like “thought” or “idea.” As in “I have a theory that my pen is in my car.” The more apt word would be “hypothesis” since it can be tested.

To call a thought scientific, is to subject it to one of two standards (this is a matter of some philosophical controversy), one is to say that the idea is verifiable while the other is to say that it is falsifiable. The former means that the idea can be objectively verified, this is the standard of Wittgenstein. If I say that all crows are black, we have to come up with the process by which it could be verified–by, say, looking at crows and seeing whether they are black or not. It does not matter whether the crows are black, but that we have a standard by which we could test the truth or falsity of the statement. The latter, that of falsifiability, is to figure out if it is possible that the idea could be proven wrong. While this seems counter-intuitive it, in my opinion, is the stronger idea. The question, more succicntly put, is what would it take to show that the idea is wrong. Evolution is an idea that passes both criteria. ID or creationism does not.

The point is that one of biggest, and best, arguments for the existence of god is related to this controversy. This is the design argument which is commonly associated with what is known as Paley’s Watch. Briefly, this idea is that if the world appears to operate according to some design, and no design exists without a designer (law of causality) then there must be a universal designer. William Paley used the analogy of a watch to drive it home. He claimed that if we found a watch we would assume that someone made it and dropped it where we found it. Only a fool would think that it just randomly generated on its own. If we look at a rock, we would not make the same assumption–but why not? A rock is formed according to certain laws, it has a pattern that is seemingly not generated randomly. Almost every ID/Creationist argument I have read has alluded to Paley’s Watch in some manner, a good number have stated it outright.

It’s compelling, but is not without its errors. The irony is that in trying to prove the biblical notion of the created universe the Creationists have latched on to a pagan argument. Cicero makes this exact claim long before the bible was compiled. The only difference is that he didn’t use the example of a watch, he used an example of an armillary sphere (or orrery sphere). This device was a mechanical model of the earth, sun, and the five known planets that showed their movements. Cicero states that even a Briton or a Scythian could not look at the sphere and think that it wasn’t made (his racism not mine). So far, this is the same argument. Anti-evolutionists usually stop there, but Cicero’s argument goes on and in fact is much superior.

He continues that if we are saying that the Armilary sphere was designed, then it was the product of reason. As opposed to the randomly formed universe, which would not then be the product of reason. This would entail that the mockery of the universe, the sphere in question, is superior to the thing that it mocks. i.e. a statue would be superior to the person that it was modeled after (to use anothe analogy). Therefore the universe is a designed thing. Cicero uses the armillary sphere because it was the most complex mechanical instrument at the time, just as the watch was for Paley. The advantage of Cicero’s version is that it rests on something tangible, the heavens, as opposed to time which precludes Paley from continuing on in the same manner. You couldn’t say that it would be foolish to claim that a watch is greater than time–they are too entirely different things. Yet Paley’s watch is still asserted with little to no nod toward its Pagan ancestor.

What’s even more ironic is that the development of the idea is similar to evolution given the increased complexity of a watch over the armillary sphere.

Ultimately, no matter which argument that you subscribe to, it fails. The shortcomings of the arguments are probably what forced contemporary philosopher Van Inwagen to offer his own version. He argues that because the laws of the universe are just so, there is life. And that to claim such things are done so randomly would be like getting hit by a lightening bolt, while winning the lottery, while being eaten by a Great White Shark, in Iowa (my simile not his–because he’s not as awesome at generating random occurrances). For instance if we took the gravitational constant: 6.67300 x 10^-11m³kg^-1s^-2 and were to change any one of those numbers, mass falls apart. If the earth were in any one of the orbits of the other nine planets it would either be too cold or too hot to sustain human life, if you….get the idea.

Van Inwagen’s argument is that these numbers are too specific to be random. Just as spherical implosion atomic weapons have to be calibrated a specifc way to ensure critical mass, the universe only exists because of a specific calibration and that calibration needs a calibrator.

Three instantiations of the same basic argument. The same basic, faulty argument. Each of these are mere appeals to common belief, argument from anecdote. Sure a watch was designed, the armillary sphere was designed, the machine was calibrated; those can all be granted. Is it impossible, however that they were not? Unlikely, but not impossible. It might not pass the judicial test of reasonable doubt, but this isn’t a court of law–it’s metaphysics and the gulf between possible and probable is as vast as that between probable and improbable. Sure I will agree that a watch was designed, but that doesn’t mean that the solar system was, in fact there is no reason to think that it was at all. The measurements that we have which give us the impression that things were designed, are measurements we created based on arbitrary numbers. For Van Inwagen’s argument to be correct it would be the same to say that since there are 1000 meters in a kilometer, that relationship is too coincidental to be random therefore there must be a god.

Sure, if gravity was slightly different there would be no matter, but also, there would be no gravity. The cart is put before the horse in this case. We already exist so the design arguers are claiming a post hoc ergo propter hoc argument. We exist therefore the world was created so that we could exist. While I can’t prove that the universe was randomly generated, I can’t accept these arguments from design either.

The Road To Atheism: Part III After Life

I thought and thought about whether or not to do one of these posts on the Saturday before Easter. The objection was that why crap on someone’s weekend? Two religions have big holidays this time of year, the Jewish people have yesterday’s pass over while the Christian’s–my former religion have Easter. The temptation on this day is to trash the holidays by analyzing them to show that their absurdity. I’m sure that the Egyptian Army’s chariot engineer didn’t deserve to have his first born son murdered by a vengeful god nor is it reasonable to assume the whole resurrection story is true when the four principle sources for that story do not agree on a solid majority of the details. (So, I succumbed a little). I don’t want to get into those small details.

Instead I want to fast forward from the last two posts’ general time of grade school toward highschool. I, again, attended a religious school, which was again run by Franciscans only this time they were men. There were two nuns, one was the librarian who had Narcolepsy while the other was an English teacher who was a bit quirky. If the teachers were “of the cloth” that meant they were either priests or friars. Yet aside from a head on collision with the morality classes (later post on that) most of the religion classes were rehashings of what I had learned in grade school. I don’t know how it worked in the past, but you didn’t have to be Catholic to get into the school. Being in the school meant that you had to take religion classes. Again, I’m not going to bash them for this, it’s their school they can do what they want.

Freshman year was a course called “Religion I.” The course text book was a red hard bound copy of the bible–I still have it. I want to say it’s the King James but it could also be the New International, it doesn’t matter really I have both on my Nook. Since most of the class covered things I already knew I just kind of flipped through the book. The teacher wasn’t offering anything interesting as far as an in depth study, but I read from different sections seemingly at random, but my mind always drifted toward the book of John the Revelator, Revelations.

Despite what you probably have seen on the “History” Channel, the book of Revelations is not a literal prophecy. Despite what La Haye and Jenkins, and their pile of money, would have you believe there isn’t going to be an “anti-Christ” who stalks the earth. As a side note: those who read the Book of Daniel in the same way are missing that little thing called context.

If Revelations is about the end of the world, and not about the fall of the Roman Empire, it led me to several questions. I understood the metaphor angle that the book was working toward, that made sense. But I knew that people took it literally. What I wanted to know is what a person did after the world ended.

To borrow from the PBS show “Dinosaur Train” point of fact: the concept of Rapture never appears in the bible.

The book ends with the coming of a new heaven and a new earth. A third (fourth?) temple is built with walls made of gold that are clear as glass, etc. Then, however, the people just kind of mill around? I never understood this. What was heaven, at the time I was sure as any Catholic that I was going there, so what I was I going to do?

Initially the answer from family/clergy was that you would be in the presence of god. The same God whose presence was in church, so that meant that I was going to spend eternity in church? That’s not heaven, that’s hell. Remember two posts ago that I was devout, but that didn’t mean that I liked going to church. Church was that thing I did once a week (in high school we had service in school once a month so on those occassions it was twice a week) that I was thankful only lasted an hour. An eternity listening to some guy tell me about doctrine that at the point of being in heaven really didn’t matter anymore? No thanks, I’ll hang out in Purgatory for a bit.

What was heaven? No major religion really gets into the details…except our stereotypical Muslim brothers they get sex. Which, to a teenage boy in highschool, would have been good enough. Remember though it’s not every Muslim that gets it, only the martyrs. And even then, only the men (I assume, virginity means something different to men than it does to women). Even that, though isn’t a good description of heaven. It’s a promise of sex, which is really base and it’s also why I don’t buy into the story at all. I mean c’mon, why would a religion that allows its males to engage in polygamy punish them in heaven by giving them more wives (Zing!!!).

In all seriousness, only the Eastern religions have this really thought out. They simply dissolve the notion of the self into the divine, then demonize the ego while in life which actually makes worrying about the afterlife sinful in itself. It’s, at least an answer.

Still I can remember sitting in those classes reading the end of the Bible wondering what was after it. Wouldn’t it get boring after awhile? Wouldn’t I long to get back to earth? It’s the only home I know after all. The other thing is that the heaven at the end of the bible has specific measurements what if there isn’t enough room for everyone I want to hang out with? These were all questions that would go unanswered of course. At this point I would be able to predict which were answered and which weren’t. I knew though that the concept of the afterlife wasn’t sufficient for me in Christianity. It needed to be spelled out or maybe something could have been tossed my way.

In the “Bible According to Mark Twain” Satan laments for man that for all his imagination it seems to be only confined to hell. The writing of all of the religions offer us detailed punishments in both the how and the why of the punishemnt. Yet for heaven we are just left to hang with god. Yes the punishment is more interesting, Dante’s Inferno is much more engaging than Paradiso, but isn’t the latter more important than the former?

Eternity is a long time. In fact it’s so long that the word “time” doesn’t apply to it. Our entire existence is predicated on the fact that at one time in the future there has to be a shift. For me, it’s the end, for others it’s a new story. Yet for those others they only answer I ever get for what happens when you die is, “you get to be with god.” I’ll take Twain’s Deism over that anyday.

Which brings me to the final point. As an atheist I get asked two questions: the first is a moral one (later post) the second regards the after life. It’s usually framed like this, “Oh, so what do you think happens after we die?” but sometimes it’s this, “So you’d rather there be no afterlife?”

I prefer being asked the second question because that person is an idiot who needs the trouncing that he’s going to get (it’s usually a male). No of course I would rather there was an after life with a wine river and 72 virgins, but the thing about reality is that it doesn’t change based on wishful thinking. Which is what the latter person is doing. They are asking me the question in that manner because they want to force me to share their beliefs based on an undesirable consequence. That’s not faith, that’s fear.

To the first person I just answer honestly, “I don’t know.” Maybe something, maybe nothing, we will all find out eventually. That much is certain. Unless I’m right, and we won’t find out because there is nothing. All we can do then is stare into the abyss of time and say “goodbye and thanks for all the oxygen.”

The Metareview of the “The Second Sex”

It’s been awhile since i have done a book review, and it will continue to be awhile because this isn’t a book review. It’s a review of three reviews of the new translation of Simone de Beauvoir’s landmark “The Second Sex.” This was one of the stranger things i had to write, and for most people this will be too long to read but here it goes anyway:

Sex, Translated

            Between the three reviews of the new translation of “The Second Sex” they can agree on one thing: the new edition is superior to the Parshley translation in the effect that it is a complete version. The reviews all note that Parshley’s translation leaves roughly 15 percent of the French original on the cutting room floor. To be fair though, they all note that the cuts were made at the behest of the publisher and were not Parshley’s decision. The BMC translation is a literal translation of the entire book. It is universally acknowledged that this is a distinct advantage.

It is unfortunate that this seems, in the eye of Moi—at least—to be the only advantage. Toril Moi’s review is easily the most devastating. Moi herself, was a critic of the original translation writing that a new translation was needed to correct the errors in the Parshley. To understand the need for a new translation we must ask ourselves, “is the original translation that bad?”

From the start the original book was a bit controversial. As Moi points out, “The Vatican put the book on the Index (which might be considered a badge of honor for some); Albert Camus accused her of having made the French male look ridiculous;[1]” given the Catholicism of France and the intellectual weight of Camus the book is going to have a bit of an uphill climb to begin with. None of those charges seemed to stick with the public, the book was a surprise best seller.

The original book was incorrectly seen as a sex manual, a “New Kinsey report,” when the rights were purchased for an English translation. Parhsely, a zoologist, was hired to make the translation. If, the book was an intellectual Sex manual, or a new Kinsey Report, this decision would have made sense. However, “The Second Sex” was not either of these. That this fact was not picked up by the publisher until the translation was underway explains a good deal of the errors in translation (although the cuts are a different story). For instance as Sarah Glazer writes in “Lost in Translation:” “More damning, when Parshley encountered existentialist terms for existence — such as pour-soi, or ”being-for-itself” — vis-à-vis women’s lives, he often rendered them as woman’s ”true nature” or feminine ”essence,” notions that would have been anathema to Beauvoir, according to Moi. ”The idea of existentialism is ‘experience precedes essence.’ Existentialism means ‘You are what you do,’ ” she says.[2]”

            The errors can be traced to the translator not being exercised in philosophy or existentialism, he had “never translated a book from French, and relied mainly on his undergraduate grasp of the language.[3]”

            Of course, it is obvious that in translating a work from one language to another, a literal translation is going to have some difficulties. The rules of language, syntax, and grammar are different. When you add to those particular issues a subject that has its own terminology, that possesses unique uses of familiar words and phrases, we get the problems in the Parshley translation.

            The BMC translation was commissioned to rectify the issue of the editing and the issue of the translation. Beauvoir, herself, tried to distance her name from the original translation after the errors were pointed out to her. The publisher, Knopf (who ordered the cuts based on Beauvoir’s tendency to ramble in their opinion), ignored the request. To be fair to them, Beauvoir did ignore requests for consultation.[4]

            Can the BMC translation, though, rectify these issues? More importantly can it live up to the expectations of the people clamoring for a new edition? Short answer: no.

            The case in point it Toril Moi’s devastating criticism of the new edition. Moi takes issues with several points in the language and meaning of the BMC edition, that she claims are evidence of a problem endemic to the whole work. For instance, the French original is:

            “Ne commencez jamais le marriage par un viol”

Literally this translates as: “Never begin marriage by rape.”

BMC has this as: “Never begin marriage by a violation of the law.”

            While French law certainly outlaws rape, this is neither the meaning nor the spirit of the law. Somali activist, and former Netherlands Parliamentarian Member Hirsi Ali once referred to arranged marriage as organized rape. If we uphold her opinion on the matter, we can see de Beauvoir’s point, it’s not about the law it’s about consent. The woman’s assent to the marriage being important.

            There are other translation issues point out by all of the reviewers as being incorrect, in each case I have added the literal translation of the French according to Google:

           

French: C’est au sein du monde donné qu’il appartient à l’homme de faire triompher le règne de la liberté; pour remporter cette suprême victoire il est entre autres nécessaire que par delà leurs différenciations naturelles hommes et femmes affirment sans équivoque leur fraternité.

                                                                                                                                       

Literal: It is within the given world that belongs to man to overcome the reign of freedom; to win the supreme victory is especially necessary that beyond their natural differentiation men and women unequivocally affirm their brotherhood.

 

BMC: Within the given world, it is up to man to make the reign of freedom prevail; to carry off this supreme victory, men and women must, among other things and above and beyond their natural differentiations, affirm their brotherhood unequivocally.

_______________________

“Normalement, elle peut toujours être prise par l’homme, tandis que lui ne peut la prendre que s’il est en état d’érection; sauf en cas d’une révolte aussi profonde que le vaginisme qui scelle la femme plus sûrement que l’hymen, le refus féminin peut être surmonté; encore le vaginisme laisse-t-il au mâle des moyens de s’assouvir sur un corps que sa force musculaire lui permet de réduire à merci.”

 

Literal: Normally, it can always be made by man, while he can not take it if it is in the flaccid state, except in case of a revolt as deep as vaginismus that seals the woman more surely than the hymen, female rejection can be overcome; vaginisums yet he leaves the male means to satisfy a body muscle strength enables him to reduce to mercy.”

 

BMC: “Ordinarily she can be taken at any time by man, while he can take her only when he is in the state of erection; feminine refusal can be overcome except in the case of a rejection as profound as vaginismus, sealing woman more securely than the hymen; still vaginismus leaves the male the means to relieve himself on a body that his muscular force permits him to reduce to his mercy.”

 

On a discussion of prostitution there is an indication of contextual issues:

 

French: faire de l’abbattage

Literal: to slaughter

BMC: to slaughter

 

Moi, in her review makes it clear that the context of the phrase is missing. “Faire de l’abbattage” in the context of prostitution means to get through customers quickly. While that can bring us an image of a slaughterhouse, that only works if we understand what the French words are: the metaphor becomes lost.

The source of the trouble is best explained by Nancy Bauer’s review, “the translators of the new version often sacrifice readability and clarity in favor of a highly unidiomatic word-by-word literalism that hampers the flow of Beauvoir’s prose and often obfuscates its meaning.[5]”

            Not all is lost however in the new edition however. It does display some improvements on the old translation, for instance:

Parshley: “It follows that woman sees herself and makes her choices not in accordance with her true nature in itself but as man defines her.”

BMC: “It follows that woman knows and chooses herself not as she exists for herself but as man defines her.”

           

            Translation issues aside what is the main issue that those like Moi have with this. I reject the assertion in the comments of Moi’s review that she is merely expressing sour grapes. Even if the Ad Hominem were the case, Moi’s issue is that this edition is the scholarly edition that she desired. True, an annotated issue might come in at over a thousand pages, but an academic edition has a different purpose than a trade edition that is currently being offered, thus it ought to be not only more linguistically accurate but also, and more importantly, philosophically accurate.

            No translation, of any work of sufficient size, is going to satisfy everyone especially those like Moi who hold Beauvoir’s work in such high regard. What is important though is that the meaning carries through. In this respect neither edition is as su

---

[1] Moi, Toril: “The Adulteress Wife”

[2] Glazer, Sarah: “Lost in Translation”

[3] Romano, Carlin: “The Second ‘Second Sex”

[4] Glazer

[5] Bauer, Nancy; “The Second Sex”

Part I: In which we cover something along the lines of personal identity

This is the presentation that I was referring to in last night’s post. It lacks a conclusion because I will literally just stop talking and make a face that my students would be familiar with. Enjoy.

 

The subject, that which we refer to when we refer. The question that Libera wants to ask is when this conception of “subject-hood” emerged, or more particularly when was it introduced. We can understand that at some point the thinking being must have self, or does it. The question that we are being asked is when did we begin to act under the presumption that something must be at the center of action?

 

The first emergence that Libera credits with this adoption was Aristotle, of course. In the case of Aristotle we have subject predication. The subject is that which can be predicated. In other words, if we can attach a predicate to something it is subject. If that thing is not predicable itself it is the prime subject, the subject by which all things are predicates (or have the potential to be predicates of).  “I think,” to use the Cartesian example can be broken into two sections: “I” being the subject and “Think” being the predicate. Under Aristotle’s analysis, to utter this phrase is to assert that the “I” is the subject, the ego uttering I, as I refers to the sense of self. “I” is unpredictable, in other words, it cannot be turned into a predicate under any circumstance.[1]

 

All of this is related to Aristotle’s conception of the prime substance. Ultimately anything that is, that we experience is going to be predicable if it is not already a predicate. What is not predicable is the sense of consciousness, the personal sense of consciousness that we all experience. When Descartes utters “I think” he is placing the word “think” in a certain boundary that must encompass “I.” “Thinking in this respect cannot just float around in the aether along with “Table” or “chair” as it would in Plato. It is not existent unless it is inhered in a subject. “Thinking” does not exist unless something is doing the thinking.[2]

 

All Descartes really accomplished in his goal of seeking a metaphysical foundation for knowledge was in phrasing something that Aristotle had already accomplished, and using it in a unique way. The Greek hypokeimenon, the Latin subiectum, is merely the underlying thing. In the case of human experience that underlying thing, is the sense of self, the subjecthood of the individual.

 

Descartes was indeed, “staking everything on his own priority as subject.” Because if not for that none of Descartes’ later projects could be justified at all. Without that “hypokeimenon” there is nothing for him and he must fall into, gasp, empiricism without further justification.

 

The question for our purpose is whether the beginning of the modern conception of the subject is generated in Descartes. For that I offer my opinion that Descartes just appropriated Aristotle’s conception.

 

Heidegger attempts to cleave the Cartesian notion from the ancient notion by stating that the Cartesian distinction between the three types of substances: material, thinking, and god (res extensa, res cogitans, divine). Subiectum, is a thinking substance while Aristotle did not make this clear of a distinction (although to be fair, he doesn’t claim that hypokeimenon in the person is material either).

 

The Cartesian sense, though, is inherently dualistic as it would be odd to call something “Cartesian” without a dual nature (i.e. spiritual and material), in fact “Cartesian” is almost a synonym with “dualism.” The interaction problem will always persist in any terming. What the Cartesian sense of subject is going to have trouble with, as always, is where the person begins and the material ends.

 

Hobbes, earlier will offer the Stoic position that “I” must be material. This is because, unlike Descartes, he isn’t violating Ockham’s Razor, if the self is material than it fits within the body, where it is located isn’t something the English Translator is going to address. If it is incorporeal, it means that it has no body, for corporeality implies body and body implies substance. Futhermore Hobbes’ materialism isn’t going to tolerate such spirit things which do not exist in his conception.

 

If the subject is material, then yes, we must account Hobbes with that creation. However, the subject, the I more popularly conceived is something spiritual but that something is still rooted in the predicable of Aristotle.

 

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[1] Aristotle’s Categories V, 2a30-35

[2] 1028a15-18 Metaphysics

Impulse and Proper Function (LS 57, 59)

One of the problems that plagues philosophy as a study (aside from the contempt that Americans seem to have for intellectuals) is rooted in the alleged uselessness of the discipline for daily life. To some extent I can see how this perception has occurred. When viewed over the course of the last fifty years philosophy has not really produced anything worthwhile. When deconstruction and Chomsky are the big movements/names it’s easy to see why the disdain for the discipline exists. Not only is the writing purposefully dense but it seems to apply to nothing. Looking back we can probably identify the last great philosopher as Wittgenstein, and even then that’s a tough sell to the average person. So who are we left with? Heidegger, the Nazi? Or Rawls and his veil of ignorance? I would love to throw my ring in Rawl’s hat, although I can’t agree that we ought to form an ethical theory independent of context, we’re not all Kantians. The trouble is that no major philosopher or school has come about to address all aspects of life. This is what has been missing, the general population looks at this stuff and says, “but what about me?” The academics look back and say, “it’s not important if you don’t understand.” While Hellenic schools seemed to have some of this aspect in them, generally it’s not as pronounced and they tried to address all classes of life. To be a Stoic, an Epicurean, a Cynic, was to live a philosophy as if it were a religion sans god(s).

The first object of the first impulse of all animals is self-preservation. This is common to all animals, the drive to continue to exist must be first as it will be apparently impossible to take care of anything else if the creature feels it is alienated from its own body.[1] This impulse drives toward the acceptance of the appropriate and the rejection of harm.[2] This is guided by pleasure and pain, which are not impulses but the byproducts of them. If the creature follows the reasonable, the rational, it will get along appropriately for nature cannot mislead the creature into something contrary to its nature.

            The appropriate disposition to oneself is benevolence, we are supposed to like ourselves. Our kindred we show affection towards.[3] While we are still animals we are rational, and that exercise of reason has suited us in a different manner than the other animals which inhabit this world. For we are naturally disposed to form “unions, societies, and states[4]” appropriate to us. Living in these states we become accustom to them, preferring the common good over the individual good. The state, the natural consequence of our gregarious nature, is important for the direction of the species for the education and that passing down of wisdom to the young.[5]

            The state, the city, is what we term “proper function.” A proper function is so defined as “consequentiality in life, something which, once it has been done, has a reasonable (re: rational) justification. The contrary to proper function is defined as the opposite of this (i.e. contrary to reason).[6]” These are the activities “appropriate to any constitution that accords with nature.[7]”

            Reason dictates what is the proper function of each individual. This delineation is between reason and non-reason is not entirely complete. Thus we do not have a simple dialectic between proper function and improper function, there is the third category which is neither. It is not dictated by reason nor contrary to it. These are the activities with no consequent, picking up rocks, taking a walk.[8]

For anything else we can judge we can judge its virtue on whether it accords with reason. Some of these are situational while some are universal. What this means is that some actions are wrong essentially, i.e. that they can never be rationally justified in any case. While others are merely wrong in consequence, i.e. they are only wrong in the effects they affect.[9] We may, as Kant does, hold that lying is a universal wrong however if we lie to protect an individual(s) or if a doctor deceives a patient in order to make them better we will see the ultimate virtue in their action.[10] Such is the same with a doctor who causes pain in a patient in the process of saving them.

The contrary attaches as well. Some acts are always virtuous while some are only virtuous because of what they produce. In any case the ultimate judge is the character of the agent performing the action. A wrong action, according to the Stoics, is always wrong and equally wrong to all other wrong actions. For they are all against nature. The difference between them is only the agent. Some acts may be more wrong, but it is not the act. The performer is key, if the act arises from a dangerous and incurable character (the vicious of Aristotle) it is worse than a momentary lapse from an otherwise rational person.

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[1]Diogenes Laertius LS 57A

[2] ibid

[3] Hierocles LS 57 D

[4] Cicero, “On Ends” LS 57 F

[5] ibid

[6] Stobaeus LS 59 B

[7] Diogenes Laertius 59 B

[8] Diogenes Laertius 59 E

[9] ibid

[10] Philo 59 H

Physics

Inquiries about the workings of nature are universal among human societies, almost as universal as the existence of alcohol. The stoic argument is that the world is infused with the gods, that the world is divine. This is not to say that the gods of the Stoic world were the gods of the Greeks, while the term “Zeus” is used sometimes this is just a generic term for the Supreme God, the creative force behind all of the creation, i.e. nature itself. For the Stoics the word “nature” didn’t just mean the outside world with grass and hills and all of the other stuff we in Western society claim that we’re going to go out and get into sometime, just not today…later. Next week, but not Thursday that’s not a good day. Because the world is divine any enquiry into the workings of the natural world can no longer be considered strictly “science” it now has to be considered theology as well.

 

Nature for the Stoics is that which sustains the world, what makes the things grow. It is not directed but self directing.[1] Physics is the inquiry into the workings of nature. For this the Stoic physicists divide the world into two categories of causes: specific and generic. Specific causes are the i) bodies, ii) principles, iii) elements, iv) gods, and v) limits, place and void; for the generic causes i) the world, ii) the elements, iii) enquiry into causes.[2] Diogenes also divides the world into two principles: that which acts (the logoi of Heraclitus) which is everlasting and that which is acted upon: the unqualified substance, i.e. matter. These principles are ungenerated and imperishable, they are bodies without form. The elements which are particulars in this understanding are those that pass away they are the bodies with form, i.e. tables, chairs, all things which exist and have shape.[3] Calcidius summarizes Zeno’s (the founder of the school) position, “so he thinks there will be no form of shape or quality at all intrinsic to matter which is the basis of all things; yet it is always united and inseperably connected with some quality or other.[4]” Matter exists, but as pure matter it has no form. Then how does matter achieve form.

 

This allows a conception of the world that falls under what is now known as the “design argument,” although perhaps this is the earliest formulations of the argument itself. It begins by stating that any thing which is needs to be shaped and formed by cause.[5] From that starting point the rest becomes obvious. If there are bodies with form, which began as formless bodies something must have caused the form to attach to the body. The standard objection to the design argument still holds, we cannot favor this iteration because it’s older than the ones that we are more familiar with: that if all things require cause then what caused the cause? Is it an infinite regression or do we arbitrarily stop with a notion of “god?”

 

Moving past that, we have the ultimate difficulty in which we must discuss the bodies with form. Understanding that “body” applies to any thing physical, for it is only the physical that can act or be acted upon.[6] The standard definition of body applies here, that is the definition laid out by Euclid in his elements, that body is that which as length, width and depth. TO this the Stoics add a curious but essential remark, that the body needs resistance as well. In other words a body cannot pass through another body. Euclid’s omission of this fact is probably due to his concentration on mathematical formulations and in the purely idealist realm of math it does not matter if two bodies overlap. Adding resistance moves us away from the theoretical and into the real.

 

If we have the case in which bodies must possess resistance to be physical, and only physical things can affect physical things is then the soul physical? The Stoics believed that this indeed must be the case. The common understanding of death (even today) is that death is the separation of the soul from the body. Accepting this means that the soul must be physical for if the soul was incorporeal then it could not be separated from the body for it could never have been attached.[7]

 

Because all of the things in the world are with form, they are all perishable. While the divine is mixed in with all the world, excepting of course the void which simply is not, it is also the first cause. It created the first element, which is fire[8] then the other three of the classical elements. The method in doing so is along the lines of the Pre-Socratic Anaximenes, through condensation and rarefaction fire becomes water, earth, and air. Which are then intermingled, but make no mistake—like the Vikings believed the world ends in fire.

 

It is perishable, all of it simply because the parts are perishable. And in anything, that which has perishable parts is perishable as a whole.[9] This destruction is not final.

 

The world recurs over and over again, ad infinitum. It is generated, exists for a time (time is the world’s motion), and then it perishes in the great conflagration only to begin anew. The Stoics seem to offer no proof for this, only that this is simply one of the tenets of their beliefs. This brings us to a question that is implied by this belief. Simplicius, in his treatise on Aristotle’s Physics, asks whether the person in this existence is the same as the person in the prior world or the subsequent one. It’s a valid concern as it addresses a conception of whether or not we are our matter or not. If everything is exactly the same then how can we claim that we are unique, when in fact everything which is has had infinite predecessor and will have infinite successors?[10]

 

In the long run, it won’t matter. As the Stoics adopt a position that only the present matters. The far future or the far past matter as nothing to the individual. We only have the present at our disposal, and we cannot be deprived of the future nor the past because we don’t posses them, and no one can suffer a loss for that which they do not have.[11]

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[1] Diogenes Laertius

[2] ibid

[3] ibid

[4] Calcidius

[5] Sextus Empiricus 9.75

[6] Cicero Academica

[7] Nemesius

[8] Aristocles

[9] Diogenes Laertius

[10] Simplicius, “On Aristotle’s Physics”

[11] Emp. Marcus Aurellius

I hope this makes sense (Levinas Paper)

Dichotomy

Essential to the understanding of how citizens can be compelled to ignore their duty to each other that they encounter is the tension that is an essential aspect of the state. Whether that tension exists between those that have and the have-nots as in Marxism, the more subtle haves versus wants of Machiavelli, or just simply the conflict of desires in Hobbes the tension that exists is a persistent aspect of the state itself. The tension, which breeds conflict is not a detriment to the development of the state but rather a necessary part of its evolution and development. Those political entities which attempt to deny such conflict through the imposition of conformity to a system or an ideal, seek a condition in which the state is already perfected thus stifling any sort of movement forward.

            There is a paradox here which needs to be unpacked. If progress only occurs through the conflict of competing desires then the assumption is that the desire to win totally is what drives the development. If this is the case then why ought not the victory of one side over the other not be a good thing? This is for the fact that progress toward a goal is more important than the actual goal itself. The supremacy of one idea leads not toward the infinite just as a painting cannot be produced with one color but rather the mingling of colors which produce the infinite spectrum. Unless those who have conflicting desires try to win, they can’t in other words “throw the game,” attempt for the elimination of the competing desires the state cannot move forward.

            Although it may be considered more civilized to use ballots, debate, and dollars rather than violence it can be argued that this type of conflict still places us in a mitigated Hobbesian state of nature.[1] The dialect, in which we recognize the conflict between each other, requires “the dialogue, contact, even struggle[2]” by which we can define ourselves through which we must recognize the importance of the other. Indeed, if we are to transcend the finite we must recognize that the “idea of infinity is produced in the opposition of conversation, in sociality.[3]” Only in a relationship with the other can any progress be made.

            What occurs in the realm of politics is a change in relationship. Politics is not simply about the self and the other, but many others and many selves. In the introduction of a third, “the other to the Other,[4]” there is a shift in the consideration of our ethical obligations. The question raised with this new other is in the understanding that while I am aware of the duty to “my other” do I have an obligation to the other’s other? It is in this new situation that the ego begins to ignore the other in that while I may have a face to face encounter I may begin to think that this other is someone else’s obligation.

            Incorrect as this is, the face-to-face makes that person our other, in a state our obligations are often imposed on the state removing our duty. The purpose of the state, it’s reason for being, ought to be the administration of justice. This conception means more than just the administration of the laws by which those who transgress the rules of civilization are punished more than just the enforcement and protection of property rights but also the well being of the citizens.

            For example, one familiar to anyone living in a city, in walking down the sidewalk I meet a man in shabby worn clothing, with matted hair, and dirt on his face and hands. This person asks me for money for food, instead of giving it to him I point him in the direction of a shelter or soup kitchen then proceed along my way. While I was perfectly able to give him what he was asking for, my thought process was that this other person who is in need can be supplied by a third other. While I assume that I did help in some way, I did not fulfill my duty in acceding to his request as my assumption was a third other would help. This is, of course, a violation of my responsibility. The existence of a third while not changing, in any way, my responsibility to the other has changed only my sense of responsibility. Ultimately I have failed, in this case, the other who requested of me and we see the eroding of my sense of responsibility. This is one way in which the duty toward the other is ignored.

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[1] Pg. 149 Alford, C. Fred “Levinas and Political Theory;” Political Theory vol. 32 no. 2 April 2004.

[2] Pg. 154 “Levinas and Political Theory”

[3] Pg. 197 Totality and Infinity

[4] Pg. 155 “Levinas and Political Theory”

Aesthetics

In the five semesters that I taught philosophy I never broached the subject of aesthetics. This was for two reasons, the first being that I new relatively nothing about it. Obviously if you are going to stand in front of a class and profess on a subject you should probably know what you are talking about. This was my problem in trying to teach Spinoza. The second was the reason for the first: I just never found it to be worth the effort. Simply but, and I do mean “simply,” aesthetics is the study of the arts and why they are considered art. That’s about as basic as I am going to be able to put it without getting into the various nuances of the word along with the various sub-disciplines involved in it. Attending the class now was motivated by the need to fill out the semester. It was, as the rest of my classes aside from the bioethics class, a class chosen out of necessity.

The class now, however, piques my interest greatly. For the reason that I disagree with several of the prevailing theories but more importantly with the method of their illustration. I consider myself relatively cultured. I’ve attended plays for more than just a date or a class assignment, I’ve visited museums for the simple reason of wanting to see the things in them, occasionally I listen to classical music yet with all that in consideration I still feel like a boor in class.

In some ways I get it. The papers and books are written by a type of person for the same type of person to read. So the examples are all in such a manner that they appeal to a shared experience. Citing Brahm’s 8th symphony (I have no idea if that is a thing that exists) makes sense for the type of reader that it is more likely to read that type of article. However it is this type of writing that alienates new people to the subject. I’m not going to attempt to plunge myself through pages and pages of music appreciation literature, or delve into the canon of English literature, just to understand one writer’s example of how intentionalism works with regard to book X.

A further problem is that if we just concentrate on what is generally agreed to be high art, then the theories may not actually work. A philosophical theory, like a scientific theory, should be one that works in all cases. So if a theory is right for Hamlet it would have to also work for Mamet or even some play that’s five minutes long and only plays during the Buffalo subversion festival. Using the five minute play possesses its own problems as well: I get the examples have to be relevant to wide audience so something ultra specific will not work. It just seems though, that sometimes, the authors are bragging about having read the books, seen the painting, or listened to the music just for the sake of doing so.

In this age of instant culture access and almost an entire generation having been raised on pop culture influences, I think the study of aesthetics could use a bit of the low brow. It would also give quite a shot of relevance since the pop culture types would be a bit better in picking examples.

Since the beginning of class I have had quite a beef with one particular example that has been used to disprove the theory of intentionalism. Briefly, intentionalism is the concept that any work of art can only be understood as being representative of the author’s intention in creating it. An easy one, and a little high artsy, is Picasso’s Guernica painted to reflect the horrors of the Spanish Civil War during the 1930s. The example used in the arguments is that of Sherlock Holmes.

So far I am in agreement. The character is well known enough that it would be hard to find someone who at least didn’t understand what the character stood for. The author’s using the example refer to a strange error in the texts themselves, which places Dr. Watson’s war wound in his arm (in the first book) and later refers to it as being in his leg. Yet it is explicit that Watson was only shot once. Instead of chalking this up to an error on the part of the author, arguments against the intentionalism idea state that the author must have had a reason for doing this. I suppose that this is to be taken as a devastating argument but I just can’t see it because the example is so trite, even ultimately being a non-issue since all we have to understand is that Watson was wounded in Afghanistan but since the wound never factors into the story why should we ascribe any intent to it at all?

If we are going to argue the same point we need a better example. During the course of the literature it is not Watson nor Holmes that can figure better but Moriarty. Since he is a central figure and entire plots revolve around him using his example would work much better. In one story Moriarty is an elusive figure that remains an entire shadow at the center of all of London’s crime, so that only Sherlock has discovered him (“The Final Problem”). In another story that takes place before that one, but written after, both Watson and Inspector Lestrade had heard of him (“The Valley of Fear”). The argument should then be centered around that.

Or perhaps using the example of how Marge Simpson flew on a plane perfectly fine during their trip to Washington DC in season two but in season 5 she had a crippling fear of flying. What kind of intention are we to ascribe to that?

Instead we wade through examples in which the relevance may be lost on the upcoming generation. What makes the class interesting is in trying to figure out where to remove Brahms and Bronte to replace them with Homer and Hannibal. Perhaps its an age thing but if philosophy is going to try and make itself relevant to the public at large it needs to start doing this, and aesthetics is a good place to start.

Levinas Assignment One

On the Grandfather in “Five in the Afternoon”

 

            If one were to claim that “Five in the Afternoon” was a film about war they would be correct. Although they could not mean this in the conventional sense, as the war going on concurrently with the story is barely touched upon. In fact “war” itself is only mentioned briefly in regard to the tumultuous history of Afghanistan and in an encounter with a French soldier. The war being fought in the movie is a war of faith between Norqeh’s father and his ties with his family. At the center point of the conflict is his piety in regard to his brand of Islam and the attention that he shows his daughters.

            Most of this conflict is internal. The Talibani strain of Islam was notoriously a twisted form of fundamentalist that regarded the female as being intrinsically sinful. The man’s involvement with his daughters puts his existence into a perilous situation with his belief in his own soul, and in that he ignores the obvious solution to the more perilous situation involving his granddaughter: that she is starving to death. Can we consider his life, a life lived or is it merely existed? Since the notion of “sin” is a personal one, and one that he is utmost concerned with, could we even claim that he is being moral in his decision to move his family from Kabul with the ultimate goal of Kandahar?

            In answering the first question we must consider how it is this man lived his life. Since all we have is the man as an elderly individual we cannot understand how it is that he arrived at this point in his life. What we do know is that he is deeply adherent to his teachings so much so that upon viewing Norqeh unveiled in the opening scene he asks for forgiveness. Adding to this is that Norqeh is constantly fearing his anger as she hides her white shoes and asks her male friend to not talk to her as he normally would. His life seems to be one of pure existence living in fear of the constant sin that he perceives to be all around him in each stage of their journey.

            This existence is one of fear. The fear of sin, that while important to the majority of the world, causes him to neglect the real for an ideal that cannot help those around him that are in actual need for the very basic needs of life. He is waiting for the experience of joy, or salvation, a deliverance from the pain of his life. He is ignoring that it is not only in pain and joy that one lives but through it.[1] In this regard his avoiding the actual for the eternal is denying life and causing the continued suffering of his family, himself, and his horse.

            While he seems to care for his family he is infected with the social aggression that he has been taught through his religion. This social aggression, “shuts people away in a class, deprives them of expression and condemns them to being ‘signifiers without a signified’ and from there to violence and fighting.[2]” This, we can see, at the palace outside of Kabul and in the desert, where he communicates only to his horse using the women only as mere tools for the finding of water. The only dialogues he seems to have are the one way conversations with his horse. This is taken to the extreme when he will not even communicate to his daughter that her baby, his granddaughter, has died.

            We may suspend our judgment to consider that while the man seems to be unduly harsh in his treatment of his daughters we could perhaps view him as performing an action that while jeopardizing their lives was saving their souls. His perception of sin being all around them in Kabul would necessitate, in his point of view, leaving the city. We must then consider what his ultimate goal must have been: to find some sort of paradise that was free from sin. The trouble for him, then, would be there is no place (a literal translation of the word “utopia”). For someone that is so devout, who views that sharing a place in Kabul with his daughters and unrelated males in the same room (separated by a clothesline and sheet) to be too sinful to tolerate is not going to find an earthly paradise that would suffice. All this person is, is desire, seeking that “another day should dawn within his day, and with it another waking that would rid him of his suffocating nightmares.[3]”

            Can we claim that he is moral? No, we can claim that he is faithful and pious, but we cannot claim that his actions and behavior were in the interests of the other person. He was fleeing Kabul from the opening to avoid the stain on his soul. In order to make sure he was as ethically concerned for his daughters as he was himself, remaining in Kabul would have been the best choice. There they had access to at least the bare necessities, instead he sacrificed them for a dream that we never know if he found.

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[1] Pg. 111, Levinas, Emmanuel; “Totality and Infinity”

[2] Pg. 153, Levinas, Emmanuel; “The Name of a Dog, or Natural Rights.” from “Difficult Freedom.”

[3] Pg. 101, Levinas, Emmanuel; “Place and Utopia” from Difficult Freedom