Xanax and Kierkegaard

The New York Times has been running a series of articles on anxiety. This one is about Kierkegaard's The Concept of Anxiety. The author notes that in our culture anxiety is conventionally treated with medication. Of Kierkegaard: "Is there any doubt that were he alive today he would be supplied with a refillable prescription for Xanax?"

The same is probably true of Augustine in 386, the year of his conversion to Christ. Many other major religious and philosophical figures might, in our day, have been diagnosed and given anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication. A few who come to my mind are Jeremiah, Boethius, Nietzsche, and the Buddha (the article actually mentions Buddhism in this regard). You can probably think of your own examples.

So here are a few questions I think are worth asking.

What, if anything, do you think is the spiritual benefit of anxiety?

Has our culture gone wrong in seeking a medical solution to anxiety, rather than a spiritual one? (And what would the world have been like today if the Buddha, Jeremiah, Augustine, Boethius, Nietzsche, and Kierkegaard had taken these medications?)

Is it possible to seek medical and spiritual solutions to anxiety? Can we have it both ways?

Confirmation of Platonic Recollection?

A recent New York Times article finds that people with no formal training in geometry can answer questions about geometry. The psychologist who performed the study does not attempt to explain why this is the case.

But Plato does. In the Meno dialogue he has Socrates perform a similar experiment, and suggests that all learning is really recollection of what we knew in our disembodied state before birth.

These findings do seem to suggest that we have innate ideas, and the Platonic idea of recollection would certainly explain them. Is this the best explanation? If not, what would be a better one?

Rupert Read on the Absurdity of Time Travel

Greetings,

To celebrate the 101th post on Arete, it seems appropriate to discuss time travel. After all, if we could travel back in time to view the first post being written, would that not be an exciting event?

This post will largely be responding to a paper by Rupert Read found here. I would highly suggest reading it, although you should be able to get the gist without doing so.

I have several concerns about Read's arguments, and will address them here.

1. He asserts that "there seems no good reason to withhold the term
“time-travel” from healthy, body-renewing sleep, especially perhaps
if it is relatively dreamless. You really can travel to the future. You
can see the future.You can be there. Just by going to bed; just by
living long enough" (Part I, Section 8). I agree with this proposition-- we are, in fact, traveling through time. However, as you'll see, I believe his argument about the "why" is wrong.

2. Read asserts that what "in sleep is missing from time-travel is the essential element of any travel worthy of the name, of tourism and holidaying for instance: the ability, at least, to go there and back again" (Part I, Section 10). This is absolutely incorrect. It would be a radical sort of time travel to go far into the past without a method of return. This may be correct for future-oriented time travel (as the act of sleep would seem to imply), but this fails to account for the novelty of past-oriented time travel.

3. Read establishes a straw man in order to attack past-oriented time travel: he asserts as an axiomatic premise that "you already know that there is no record in the past of you having been there, nor of anyone else from the future, no matter how distant or technologically-sophisticated that future becomes" (Part II, Section 4). There is no need to assume this. Suppose that, in the present, you find clear signs that the time traveler changed nothing; they had already (and always) traveled back in time. Many fictional works, such as 12 Monkeys and Doctor Who, take this as essential.

4. Read asserts that, "in order not to have changed the past, and made it something other than the very thing that you wanted to voyage into, you cannot have had any impact at all, not even one so slight that it evaded all records and notice" (Part II, Section 6). This is a false dichotomy, as explored in my third argument. It's possible to have changed nothing in the past, and yet not evaded notice.

5. Read asserts that "travel back into the past is only possible if the “you” that does the travelling is entirely ethereal. Nonphysical. For the slightest impact upon the past will generate a 'causal loop,' and thus a familiar paradox of time-travel" (Part II, Section 7). The real substance of this paper should have consisted in explaining the "causal loop" and how it results in an absurdity. To hinge arguments upon this assumption is to assume something essential to the outcome.

6. Read's criterion of falsifiability seems to be as follows: "For what was necessary in order for us to be willing to call something “time-travel” (namely, its being meaningful to speak of travel “back into the past”) is just not available. Our relation to the past is necessarily spectatorial, in a doubled sense: We cannot interfere with it, and we cannot even observe it except from a temporal distance" (Part II, Section 15). This unintentionally raises a huge problem for Read. He states that we cannot call travel "time travel" that which we cannot interfere with, unless we can interfere with it directly. However, we cannot directly interfere with the future; we must wait for it to become the present. Thus, we do not travel through time into the future. This directly contradicts Part I, Sections 5-10, and limits the significance of his arguments against future-oriented time travel.

7. Read oversimplifies the complex issue of the indeterminacy of the future: "The past is very largely determinate, fixed, just by virtue of its being past: and “travelling back into it” requires that it not be fixed. The future is to a considerable extent open just by virtue of its being future" (Part III, Section d). This raises a host of issues, problems, and questions; if this is to be treated as an axiomatic assumption, it should be addressed at the outset, and the validity of his findings should noted to be contingent upon it.

So, what do you think? Am I being too hard on Professor Read, or are my critiques legitimate? Thanks for your comments!

This post has been edited to resolve potential formatting issues.

Violence, Justification, and Pain-Sensing Dandelions

Greetings,

Tonight's Philosophy Society meeting will cover the "Philosophy of Violence", and pose questions about possible justifications for acts of violence, including war. This post will touch on an element of the topic: why does violence need justification?

Princeton University's Wordnet offers three definitions for violence:

1. An act of aggression.
2. The property of being wild or turbulent.
3. A turbulent state resulting in injuries and destruction etc.

If we assume that violence can potentially need ethical justification, I think we should reject the second definition's utility to our discussion, as properties necessarily do not require ethical justification (feel free to disagree with this, or call for an argument, in the comments). We might, therefore, consolidate the definition into the following:

"An act or state of aggression that results in injuries and/or destruction".

Per this definition, we can expound a bit on the nature of violence:

1. Violence requires an aggressor-- there cannot be aggression without an aggressor. Thus, it is incorrect to speak of violence where there is no aggressor to be found.

2. An act is not violent unless it has certain consequences (injuries and/or destruction). Thus, it is incorrect to describe an entity as violent (video games, movies, et cetera) as violent, unless they themselves actually cause (rather than merely depict violence.

So, working from this definition, let's talk about justification. When we say that an action needs ethical justification, we implicitly argue that it should be taken to be ethically improper unless a sufficient argument can be made to the contrary. It's not enough to say that ethical justification is required for potentially (ethically) bad actions. Moriarty need give no justification for mowing his lawn, even though it is a potentially (ethically) bad action-- if, for instance, he were cutting his lawn to cause pain to the Pain-Sensing Dandelions that he believe live in it. If, however, you knew for a fact that Moriarty's goal was to cause pain to the Pain-Sensing Dandelions (a great evil, indeed; poor dandelions!), he would most certainly need an ethical justification to mow he lawn.

So, then: if violence needs (ethical) justification, it must be supposed to be by default an ethically bad action or state. Why, however, need violence be considered as such? Consider: if Moriarty were to spray a nerve-numbing concoction upon the Pain-Sensing Dandelions that prevented them from feeling pain, it would still (by definition) be an act of violence to chop them into tiny bits and pieces. The action would still be performed by an aggressor (Moriarty still hates and desires the genocide of Pain-Sensing Dandelions), and it would cause injury or destruction. However, is it unethical?

I don't think we would say so-- but then, this is an absurd example. You may find it outlandish. Let me resort to one that's a bit more easy to follow.

Let's say that you discover an army of ants living outside your home. It is not harming you, and they aren't violating any laws I am aware of, but you nevertheless wish them exterminated. You commit an act of violence by killing as many of them as possible with insecticides. Would this act of violence require ethical justification? I anticipate you would say, absolutely not!

This should be sufficient, I believe, to show that violence in and of itself is not an ethically inappropriate state or action. To say that Moriarty performed an act of violence is not sufficient to say that Moriarty must justify his action.

Therefore, I challenge those who attach ethical judgments to claims about violence: what is sufficient to make an act of violence one that requires ethical justification? Violence in and of itself is clearly not sufficient; therefore, there must be an external element that makes it need justification. If that is the case, why should this external element not be evaluated for its own sake, not with regard to its relation to violence?

Philosophy and Football at Berry

Berry's football team has never lost a game!

If you took my Critical Thinking class, you may remember that Aristotle and most modern logicians disagree on whether it's true that Berry's football team has never lost a game. Aristotle thinks it's false because there is no such thing as a Berry College football team, but the moderns think it's true because there is no such thing as a Berry College football team that has lost a game.

But the important question is: Should Berry change all this by getting a football team? I think Plato suggests a good way to frame the discussion, so in this post I'll try to pose the question of a Berry College football team his way. Note that I'm not out to answer the question here; I'll leave that to you!

Plato's Republic presents the theory that the soul has three parts. The first part, the rational part, desires wisdom, knowledge, and justice. The second part, called thumos, desires honor and victory. The third part, the appetitive part, desires physical pleasure. In order for us to have a good life, the rational part of the soul must make an alliance with thumos in order to keep the appetitive part from getting out of hand. For example, thumos must be persuaded that it is honorable to seek wisdom and dishonorable to live solely for physical pleasures.

In other words, a properly ordered soul is one that doesn't seek victory for its own sake; it seeks to honor wisdom and knowledge and justice and to see them victorious.

What does this have to do with football? Like rugby, the only team sport I ever played, football is a struggle resulting in a victory for some and a loss for others. It is a field on which thumos asserts itself.

But we aren't supposed to fight for the sake of victory. We are supposed to fight for the victory of something, specifically something noble. For example, I think the movie Remember the Titans handles football very well, because the struggle on the football field symbolizes the struggle for racial justice. The football player's or fan's passion for victory becomes a passion for the victory of justice.

So here is the Platonic question I wish to pose: Would a football team at Berry encourage a love of struggle and victory for its own sake, or a love of struggle and victory for the sake of something noble?

To elaborate just a little. At Berry College several appropriately noble things are already present: knowledge, the love of wisdom, a respect for our cultural and religious heritage. Would a football team here distract us from these noble things, or would football encourage a stronger school spirit and a stronger love for these noble things, which are after all the main reason we're here?

My philosophy movies

In case anyone is interested, I made two Socrates cartoons and one Boethius cartoon, available here.

Philosophical problem solved by neuroscientists

According to an article appearing today in the New York Times, the Molyneux problem has been answered by neuroscientists. What's the Molyneux problem? It's a question first posed by an Irish politician and scientist, William Molyneux. His question concerns what would happen if a blind person were suddenly given the ability to see. Presented with two objects, a sphere and a cube, would the blind person be able to tell which was which just by looking? He already had tactile experience of these objects. Is that experience sufficient to allow him to make the distinction on the basis of visual perception? Locke famously said that the blind man would not. The recent finding vindicates Locke. Five children from northern India who had been blind from birth but whose vision was restored through surgery were not able to match objects they had touched with one they had seen, they did no better than would be expected if they were just guessing.

This result raised broader questions. Does it show that the Molyneux problem was not a philosophical problem to begin with? Can a philosophical problem be answered empirically? Maybe some can and some can't. What implications, if any, should we draw, then, for the nature of philosophy and philosophical problems?

So you want to be an analytic philosopher...

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/7635213/

Enjoy!

Primordial Assumptions and Non-Falsifiable Objections

Greetings,

It is common to make several assumptions when discussing philosophical matters-- whether one's interest is ontological, epistemological, formally logical, or some other field, primordial assumptions are a key underlying element. These assumptions are fundamental to our experience of the world, and thus tend not to be challenged further unless they are the specific matter of inquiry, because to do so would drastically shift the inquiry and possibly send a skeptic down a "rabbit hole" (as I call them) where an unceasing flurry of questions, each causing another question, that result in a completely unproductive endeavor with all participants exhausted and discouraged. Examples I have seen fellow discussants perform in conversations include challenging the law of noncontradiction, denying the legitimacy of free will, and proposing that everything "is a dream" while discussing other topics. It is, of course, completely legitimate to discuss these issues when they are the focus or topic of conversation. However, when one discusses an argument for the existence of God or the nature of animal ethics, challenging a core assumption by claiming that everything is just a dream seems both counterproductive and, perhaps, ad hoc, as the claims tend not to be considered legitimate outside of the specific conversation. I would pay money to see what would happen if you commit perjury by stating that you didn't see a crime, and later deny that you committed perjury by asserting that the law of noncontradiction is illegitimate.

On the other hand, we want our arguments to be falsifiable, and thus to be able to deal with objections. If I argue that humans do not have ethical obligations to animals because animals do not have free will, but I imply that humans do have ethical obligations to each other (because they have free will), it seems relevant to bring the question of fatalism into the picture. And yet, here we seem to have a quandary: if free will does not exist, we cannot concede the argument as being valid or invalid on the basis of the validity of the argument (rather, one was compelled to evaluate the argument in the matter one evaluated it, regardless of the ontological validity of the argument). As such, we lose our capacity to evaluate the argument. It would seem that the individual who challenges free will thus cannot meet the standard of falsifiability-- their argument cannot be falsified if there is no free will, because there is no one to falsify it. However, the fatalism objection seems both coherent and relevant. A topic can become controversial when it is not falsifiable; how much more difficult a topic becomes when one of its most coherent objections is not falsifiable!

What tactic should we take when we a legitimate topic has a non-falsifiable objection thrust at it? Do we deny the legitimacy of the objection, or treat it with all seriousness? Do we disregard it as sophistry, or do we attempt to account for it? It's a topic of both practical and theoretical interest to me, and I look forward to your feedback.

EDIT: On a completely unrelated note, here's a rather disturbing document you should probably see, about one of our favorite meeting locations...
http://ga.state.gegov.com/_templates/87/Food/_report_full.cfm?fsimID=1441174&domainID=87&rtype=food

On Communication and Definitions

In the comments of the post called, "Philosophy of Religion" and "Theology": What's the Difference?, r.j.marvin and I have been having an interesting conversation on communication. A concern was expressed: when individuals engage in dialogue, can they rationally discuss topics where the definitions of major points of contention are unclear? For example, assume that an atheist, a Calvinist, and a Muslim were engaged in a dialogue about God. The atheist remarks that the idea of God is internally contradictory, due to the nature of omnipotence and omni-benevolence. The Calvinist remarks that God has mysteries that cannot be explained, such as the nature of the trinity, but is not internally contradictory. The Muslim remarks that the idea of God is not internally contradictory and, while mysterious, has no apparent contradictions. It seems like all three of these discussants have different definitions of God. Can they, thus, rationally discuss the topic?

First, I will argue why they can. Second, I will defend against reasons why they allegedly could not by addressing the initial quandary.

If it were true that individuals can maintain distinct definitions of words without the possibility of harmonization, definitions would be meaningless and devoid of substance, because they would not have any references. Imagine if I defined "Quarorglewoggle" as "Gltheltic-giborglewoggle". If you asked me to define "Gltheltic-jiborglejiggle", I would continue using nonsense words with no real-world references, and would eventually come back to "Quarorglewoggle". We would thus not be able to have any legitimate knowledge of what is being communicated. In other words, if the skeptical concern is legitimate, we would not have legitimate understanding of the references of others' words. Since we do have legitimate understanding of the references of others' words (given that you are reading this), it is not the case that the skeptical concern is true (and, thus, the skeptical concern is false), at least about some words.

"Some words", however, is very different from "all words" (there's a puzzle for you). Could there exist a word that, through the method I outlined above, can be circularly defined in nonsensical terms? Yes-- consider "quarorglewoggle". Here's my question: we have the word "quarorglewoggle". Is there actually a reference of the word? In other words, we can imagine "quarorglewoggle" (the word); can the speaker imagine quarorglewoggle (the reference of the word)? If not, they are either deceiving their fellow discussant (but we're assuming that they're acting in good faith, so this isn't an issue), or there is actually something that the word refers to. There exist many properties that, as we have already established, are not nonsensical (in that they can be meaningfully defined). Each of these properties either do or do not relate to the definition of the word. For example, if I defined the "best flavor of icecream" as "that particular taste of ice cream that is most pleasing to the taster", the property of being "Cherry-Vanilla" does not relate to the definition of the word-- merely the instantiation (the carrying-out) of the definition.

Back to our initial quandary. If a Calvinist claims that the definition of God, via the Trinity, is mysterious but not contradictory, we should tell him/her that they are mistaken. The Trinity is no more a part of the definition of God than Cherry-Vanilla is part of the definition of the best flavor of ice-cream; it's part of the instantiation. The Muslim's claim is coherent. The Atheist's claim, that the definition of God entails a contradiction (omni-benevolence and omnipotence) sets us up for a great topic that could be discussed, but makes the same mistake as a Calvinist. The Greek gods were certainly not omnibenevolent, nor were they omnipotent, and yet they are still referred to as gods. The Atheist concern is with a specific instantiation of the definition of God, not with the definition of God itself.

In conclusion, we must be careful when we distinguish between definitions and instantiations of definitions. There are no true contradictions in reality (assertion on my part, feel free to challenge it), and thus no definition will be contradictory. Instantiations of definitions, however, may be. The definition of "contradiction" is not contradictory, but all instantiations of "contradictions" are, necessarily, contradictory.

Make sense? Share your thoughts, comments, and arguments below. I look forward to your feedback!

"Philosophy of Religion" and "Theology": What's the Difference?

Greetings,

Your experience might differ, but I find that those with a passion for philosophy (including the philosophy of religion) tend not to share a passion for theology, and vice versa. This has sparked a question in my mind: what is the difference between "philosophy of religion" and "theology"? In this post, propose a theory that hopefully gives us a satisfactory answer. I propose that, in order to understand the difference between "philosophy of religion" and "theology", you ought to accept the following:

1. "Philosophy of Religion" and "Theology" both refer to logically consistent inquiries, which usually take the form of arguments.

2. The subject of the inquiries of both "Philosophy of Religion" and "Theology" is the same: divinity. This is, presumably, a subset of the supernatural.

3. As the subject of both inquiries is the same, the differentiating factor must lie in the form of the inquiry itself.

4. Inquiries can only prove the veracity of their conclusions if the negation of the conclusion yields a contradiction.

5. The only truths philosophy has available are those which are tautologically true-- that is, true by nature of their logical form. The proposition, (a) or [not (a)], is true by nature of its form. Yes, this seems to entail classical logic, although the truth is that it need not. Roll with me, here.

6. Theology has all philosophical truths available to it (that is, theology does not embrace contradictory claims).

7. The truthfulness of premises in a philosophical argument can only be evaluated in terms of their internal/external logical consistency.

8. Here's where the difference lies: Theological claims can also form inquiries where the truthfulness of a premise is not determined simply by logical consistency.

By now, you're saying... "Zach, this is too much. Break it down for me". To quote Dale Cooper... "Okay."

1. All arguments that are sound in the philosophy of religion are sound in theology.
2. Not all arguments that are sound in theology are sound in the philosophy of religion.

Example of a Philosophical Argument
1. Either God exists or he does not.
2. If God exists in possibility, he exists in necessity.
3. It's possible that God exists.
4. Thus, God exists necessarily.

This argument may not be sound, but it can be understood and evaluated in philosophical terms. An individual might critique the second or third premise, but his critique would be grounded in logic.

Example of a Theological Argument
1. Either humans are predestined or they are to be held responsible.
2. God holds humans responsible.
3. God does what he ought to do.
4. Thus, humans are not predestined.

Philosophically, this is not an interesting argument. Premises 2 and 3 are determined to be true or false depending on adherence to religious principles, not logical necessity. However, this argument can be converted into a philosophical argument...

Example of a Philosophical Argument
1, Either humans are predestined or they are to be held responsible
2. Thus, if [God exists] and [God holds humans responsible] and [God does what he ought to do], then humans are not predestined.

This is actually philosophically interesting-- it doesn't presuppose the existence of God, but is concerned with logical entailment if he does exist (and other premises follow).

In conclusion, all truths determined through the philosophy of religion are true according to theological inquiry as well, as theology has all the tools of philosophy of religion available. However, not all truths revealed by theological inquiries are true in accordance with the philosophy of religion. It may be possible to convert these to philosophical claims, but the inquiry loses some of its impact.

Thoughts/comments/suggestions/criticisms will be much appreciated!

Stuck with Virtue Conference

Thursday, November 4 and Friday, November 5 Berry will host the first of a three-part conference series entitled “Stuck with Virtue.” This initial conference will include 7 distinct presentations, featuring over two dozen of the country’s leading experts in the fields of philosophy, political science, biology, genetics, sociology, and theology.

ALL 7 PRESENTATIONS ARE CE CREDIT APPROVED!!

Working from the premise that human beings are by nature stuck with virtue, the conference series broadly seeks to identify the scholarly, educational, and civic framework in which an intellectually serious and humanly satisfying new science of virtue could reasonably hope to unfold and develop. To a great degree, our contemporary ideas about the grounds and substance of human virtue can be traced back to the thought of three modern thinkers: Rene Descartes, John Locke, and Charles Darwin. The conference series thus incorporates each of their contributions in light of the contemporary body of knowledge we have gained from recent work in the sciences, philosophy, and theology, with presentations from the experts leading the work and discussions today. Accordingly, the Stuck with Virtue Conference Series, integrating the best thought of the past and the present, directly responds to one of the enduring challenges of the virtuous life itself, namely, the need to understand the relation between who we are, what we have been given, and the concrete circumstances in which we presently find ourselves.

Visit www.stuckwithvirtue.com for more information.

Conference Schedule:

Thursday, November 4, 2010
11:00 Lecture (Evans Auditorium): On Descartes
(Dr. Papazian will be a respondent!)
2:00 Panel (Evans Auditorium): Walker Percy on Science and the Soul
4:00 Lecture (Evans Auditorium): On Darwin
**7:00 Lecture (Ford Dining Hall): On Locke (with dinner)

Friday, November 5, 2010
9:00 Panel (Evans Auditorium): Being More Cartesian than Descartes
10:30 Panel (Evans Auditorium): Tom Wolfe, Technology, and Greatness
**12:30 Lecture (Krannert Ballroom): On Science, Virtue, and the Birth of Modernity (with lunch)

**Please contact me directly for information about obtaining an invitation to either or both of these lectures! It would be great if you all can come to all of these events, but if you haven't signed up with Dr. Lawler for the two lectures with food yet, let me know so that I can tell him to add you!!

Challenges for Locke's Idea of Property Rights

Greetings,

In John Locke's Second Treatise, he argues for a certain conception of property rights and ethical ownership. You can read a relevant chapter of his work by clicking here. While there are several strong reasons to accept what Locke proposes, those who would do so ought to be able to deal with a few issues that may generate tension. That's not to say that these issues are insurmountable, per se, but rather than a coherent Lockean ought to be able to respond to them. I will try to mention a few possible issues below. Feel free to argue for your position or simply list your thoughts in the comments.

1. Assume that a corporation, Acme Co., has an employee, Moriarty, who is hired to cut down a tree that would potentially be in the way of the anvil plant that they are planning to construct. This land has never been claimed, and no one contests Moriarty's-- or, by extension, Acme's-- presence. Moriarty cuts down the wood. Per Locke, who owns the wood? Is Locke right?

2. Assume that Acme has entered into the music business. They hire a musician, Moriarty II, to produce music for them. A college student, Jack Sherman, downloads this music without the consent of Acme-- although, with the consent of Moriarty II. Per Locke, did Jack steal Acme's intellectual property? Did he steal Moriarty II's intellectual property? Is there such thing as intellectual property? Is Locke right?

3. Assume that Acme has generated a computer that strings together every possible combination of musical notes and lyrics-- and also strings together every possible combination of sequences of musical notes and lyrics, up to 45 minutes in length. It has an entire continent filled with speakers, stacked high to the sky, and each speaker plays a combination. Per Locke, does Acme thus own every song up to 45 minutes in length that had not been created before the computer did its work?

4. Assume that Acme has created biological life-- and it looks like a human, has the genetic composition of a human, and seems to age like a human. It was not contested that Acme owned the base materials it generated the biological lifeform, which it calls Moriarty IV, from. Per Locke, does it own that human? Is Locke right?

5. Assume that, while on the job, an employee, Moriarty V, dies. Acme immediately uses his body for lunchroom cafeteria meat. His relatives protest. Per Locke, did Acme have the right to Moriarty's body? Is Locke right?

Seven Motivations for Philosophizing

Greetings,

I suspect that there are a vast multitude of reasons for the study and/or practice of philosophy. I thought it would be interesting to survey a few of the different approaches. In the comments, feel free to address any/all you would care to, as well as suggest additional motivations that I may have missed.

1. Edification
Those whose motivation is edification believe that philosophy can provide a sort of sustenance, whether for the mind or soul. They pursue it in hopes of an upbuilding, a strengthening, and/or and endowing that stems from their studies. An example of one who believes philosophy to be edifiying is Kierkegaard (who argued that Hegel, for example, was an excellent professor of philosophy but a poor philosopher, because there was no edification through his system).

2. To Discover Truth
Those whose motivation is to discover truth believe that, to quote Muldur from the X-Files (rock on), "the truth is out there". Whether metaphysics or ontology, they believe that arguments can-- in truth-- be sound, as opposed to merely valid, for there are concrete propositions that have a definite truth-value. It is possible to pursue edification but not truth, as I would argue that Nietzsche did. It is possible to pursue truth but not edification, as I believe Hegel did. An example of one who pursued philosophy to study truth is Hegel.

3. To affect policy/habits, and/or to better society.
Those whose motivation is to affect policy/habits, and/or to better society, believe that philosophical study and work can have tangible benefits. They believe that people can be served, and tangible, positive results brought forth, from such pursuits. It is possible to have this motivation but not pursue edification, such as those who disavow the soul but argue that agents can still be held accountable for their actions. Aristotle is an example of a philosophy with this motivation, and his primary concern was to affect social ethics through habituation.

4. To create "truth".
Those whose motivation is to create truth believe that "truthfulness" is intrinsically tied to perception, and one can actually modify the truthfulness of a statement by adjusting the perception of that statement. According to those who pursue philosophy to create "truth", humans define what does and does not have value and what that value/those values is/are. I believe that Foucault and Derrida are examples of philosophers with this motivation, although I only have a basic knowledge of them both.

5. Because it is interesting.
Those whose motivation is to study systems believe that philosophy is worth pursuing because it is interesting, regardless of whether or not it is edifying, a method of revealing truth, or et cetera. Some may pursue systematism, such as analytical logicians, while others may abstractly consider broad metaphysical issues. I might include Lewis Carroll in this category, although I'm sure that will be controversial (both his inclusion as a philosopher and the claim about his primary motivation).

6. To earn income.
Haha... I kid!

Seriously, though, there is money to be made via philosophy. Ranging from research into formal logic yielding jobs in IT to professorship, it's not a bad way to make a living. That being said, it's probably not the most efficient method of earning an income, but it could certainly be a secondary method. Unless you're someone like Saul Kripke, in which case you could probably focus on this and do quite well for yourself.

7. To have something to do.
Honestly, I believe that some people engage in philosophy because it keeps them from being bored. This does not mean that they find it interesting, but it can be used as a tool to abstract themselves away from reality and have one more habit to get through life. Call me crazy, but I have a secret (well, secret no more) hunch that Wittgenstein might fall into this camp. Feel free to reject that association, if you see fit.

An [Ontological?] Argument for Free Will

Greetings,

I'm going to present to you an argument that human beings have free will. I have not seen this argument composed elsewhere, but if you uncover a similar argument from another source, I'd love to hear about it.

Here's how it will work. There are three "sets" of arguments. The first set has 5 premises, and should yield "C1"-- conclusion 1. The second set has 3 premises, and shoudl yielf "C2"-- conclusion 2. C1 and C2 should form an additional argument to yield C3. If you think my argument is wrong, it would be great for you to either attack one of the premises or argue that one of the conclusions do not follow from its respective premises. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

SET 1:
1. Either human beings can freely will or they cannot freely will.
2. If human beings cannot freely will, they either cannot will or they can will without freedom.
3. Human beings can will.
4. If a human being can freely will, we say that such a human being has "free will".
5. If a human being cannot will with freedom, we say that the human being is subject to "determinism".
C1: THUS, human beings either have free will or they are subject to determinism.

SET 2:
1. If human beings are subject to determinism, they perform the actions they perform but do not do so freely.
2. If one performs an action but does not do so freely, they do so because they were compelled.
3. If an entity is compelled to perform the action of evaluating an argument, they did so because they were compelled, regardless of beliefs about the validity of the argument.
C2: THUS, if an entity evaluates this argument to establish its validity, one was not compelled.

SET 3:
C1. Human beings either have free will or they are subject to determinism.
C2. If an entity evaluates this argument to establish its validity, one was not compelled.
C3: THUS, if an entity evaluates this argument to establish its validity, it did so with free will.

So, now we have C3: "If an entity evaluates this argument to establish its validity, it did so with free will". It's a conditional, and I'm fine with that. Let me ask you: did you evaluate my arguments to determine their validity? According to C3, if you cannot, you cannot reject arguments for free will. If you can, you have free will.

What are your thoughts? Is there a problem? Is it convincing, or do you find it lacking in some regard?

Naming Infinity

That's the title of a book by Loren Graham and Jean-Michel Kantor that I finished reading recently. It may be one of the most unusual books I've read, as it focuses on two topics--the mathematics of the infinite and heresy in the Eastern Orthodox Church--that are not typically associated with each other. The story is fascinating and covers the origins of set theory and its early development at the start of the 20th century by French mathematicians. According to the authors, the tendency in France toward positivism and Cartesianism contributed to a bias among French mathematicians against theories that could not be connected to physics. Accordingly, French mathematicians became reluctant to pursue the study of the transfinite. Russia, with its mystical orientation, and particularly what became the Moscow School of Mathematics were a more fertile ground for research in this area. Especially interesting is the role played by Pavel Florensky, a Russian Orthodox monk and mathematician. Florensky represents the link between the Moscow mathematicians, several of them faithful churchgoers, and an obscure sect, the Name Worshippers, within the Russian church. While the authors do not get into the details of the theology of the Name Worshippers, it becomes clear that their beliefs had an effect on the mathematical work of Florensky and perhaps the other Moscow mathematicians. After the revolution and with the growing oppression of the Soviet regime, the overt Christianity that informed these mathematicians' outlooks had to go underground. The exception was the fearless Florensky, who continued to wear his clerical robe even in the presence of leading communists like Trotsky. Florensky ended up in prison camps where he was tortured and eventually killed. The stories and personal travails of many of the other mathematicians are also sad and poignant. But in the midst of totalitarianism, a spirit of faith and mysticism continued to color the Moscow school even in the darkest periods.

The authors are right to conclude modestly that religion does not change mathematics. A Christian mathematician should come to the same conclusions as a positivist mathematician. But the spiritual and philosophical spirit that characterizes a culture can allow ideas to develop that may otherwise be neglected or overlooked. It seems that in this case, at least, it was religion rather than rationalism that proved a more fertile ground for the growth of scientific ideas.

Traversing the Maze of Free Will

Arete's Editor-in-Chief, Andrea Lowry, sent me a link to an article by professor Galen Strawson of Reading University. Written for the New York Times, the article can be read by clicking here. It argues that one cannot be "ultimately responsible" for what one does, and that any actions will be "determined... by your genetic inheritance and previous experience." Bold statements, to be sure. He offers two arguments, the latter "expanded" from the former. Let's look at the former first:

(1) You do what you do — in the circumstances in which you find yourself—because of the way you then are.

(2) So if you’re going to be ultimately responsible for what you do, you’re going to have to be ultimately responsible for the way you are — at least in certain mental respects.

(3) But you can’t be ultimately responsible for the way you are in any respect at all.

(4) So you can’t be ultimately responsible for what you do.

Is his argument sound? It seems to have problems-- for example, the first premise begs the question, because it assumes that you do what you do because of "the way you are", which implicitly denies any sort of volition-- and responsibility, presumably, requires volition. I don't want to spend too much time on this argument, because Strawson seems to desire us to consider it in light of his expanded argument:

(a) It’s undeniable that the way you are initially is a result of your genetic inheritance and early experience.

(b) It’s undeniable that these are things for which you can’t be held to be in any way responsible (morally or otherwise).

(c) But you can’t at any later stage of life hope to acquire true or ultimate moral responsibility for the way you are by trying to change the way you already are as a result of genetic inheritance and previous experience.

(d) Why not? Because both the particular ways in which you try to change yourself, and the amount of success you have when trying to change yourself, will be determined by how you already are as a result of your genetic inheritance and previous experience.

(e) And any further changes that you may become able to bring about after you have brought about certain initial changes will in turn be determined, via the initial changes, by your genetic inheritance and previous experience.

I believe that Strawson errs in several of his premises. First, premise (a)-- that it is "undeniable that the way you are initially is a result of your genetic inheritance and early experience"-- is actually contradictory. The way you are initially (meaning, at the earliest moment of personhood) cannot result from earlier experience, which he said it does. Strawson might wish to make the conjunction apply only to post-initial status, but the premise loses its power, and it is clearly false that a person is how they are initially as a result of genetic inheritance (for example, because two individuals with the same genetic inheritance might not act the same way). The premise fails.

Premise (d) asserts that "both the particular ways in which you try to change yourself, and the amount of success you have when trying to change yourself, will be determined by how you already are as a result of your genetic inheritance and previous experience", but this to a large degree what needs to be proved. Strawson has constructed an elaborate format to beg the question, which is hidden behind a series of arguments whose foundation is problematic (the first premise). Of course, if Strawson had his way, his mistake would be seen as a result of experience and genetic inheritance. Personally, though, I think he should have known better.

Back to Business

Monday August 23rd is the start of classes again at Berry College. We've been dormant on the blog for the summer, but with the beginning of the new semester it's time to get back to business.

One debt that I have to discharge now is to note the passing since my last post of one of my intellectual heroes, the great Martin Gardner (1914-2010). It is hard to describe the man in one word, but perhaps "polymath" is most appropriate. I wrote a post on his 95th birthday and discussed the influence that he had on me. A University of Chicago philosophy major, Gardner became the mathematics columnist for Scientific American and wrote prolifically on topics that included but also reached far beyond science, math, and philosophy. I especially appreciated his efforts to expose the frauds who founded and promoted various pseudo-scientific movements. Gardner was a much needed defender of reason and careful thinking. All should be grateful for his long and productive life.

Coffee Confessions

Kind readers,

If you’ll allow, let me divulge a tad about my life. No, I will not bore you with some trivial private gossip or pent up angst and frustration about the woes of life or anything of that sort, but I would like to call your attention and get your reactions to a problem I’m dealing with: I can barely type the words, but I, regrettably, have lost my taste for coffee, and it is a sad, cold world without the brew.

This revelation will probably be better placed within the proper context. I was bred to drink this stuff. My parents are big coffee drinkers, and I was literally raised with the aroma of coffee abundant in the air and loved that smell, I’ve been told, as a very young child and have never stopped. In fact, at age four I pestered my parents so much one fateful day for a taste of their coffee that they allowed me to have a sip, thinking that, like a normal child, I would be utterly repulsed by the bitter taste (there’s never any added sugar or sweeteners in our coffee!) and give up on the drink till I got older. Well, I was not a very normal child. (Insert your own joke here about me still not being normal if you like!) To their surprise, or maybe dismay, I loved the coffee, and they were then somewhat forced to keep allowing me to have sips every now and then. When visiting either friends of my parents or my own friends’ parents as an elementary-aged child, I would often shock adults who’d ask what beverage I’d like (them expecting me to say Coke or juice) with the reply of coffee, and they’d undoubtedly proceed to question the kind of parents I had! And so began my love affair with the, to me, ineffably tasty drink.

You see, coffee for me was not about a caffeine-induced rush; in fact, it was no sort of stimulant at all, as it normally is for people. Instead of a jilting morning wake-up, coffee affected me in the reverse fashion: actually making me quite relaxed and much more focused, which is very useful as a student! But something terrible has happened! About three and a half weeks ago until this present day, my beloved coffee has not loved me back in return. It does not give those same fulfilling feelings nor taste as appealing, and the focus it once provided is gone, along with my longing for it.

I do not want the coffee any longer, but I want to want it.

In philosophy, this is known as a second-order desire: the desire to desire. This is the same feeling as the self-loathing drug addict who wants to refrain from his habit but cannot, or the unwilling antisocial person who desires to want companionship but does not actually posses that want – simply, their will is to want something other than that which they really want. A couple terms used above to describe these scenarios, “unwilling” and “the will,” are interesting here. What is it that is doing the willing and unwilling? What part of you wants and what doesn’t want?

For me, it is my mind that wants, but my body that does not. A certain event in my brain may be altered in some way to have a different effect, causing this lack of desire. But what was it that was doing the willing in the first place? Not, apparently, my mind or will. I had this craving that was brought on by something I didn’t will (though it was a bodily reaction of mine), and so it was out of my control and brought upon me. But this was far from a negative thing. Apart from just the satiation of the particular thirst, satisfying a longing of any sort, even an imposed craving, can be a great pleasure in and of itself. But now I’ve been “freed” from this craving, and yet am unsatisfied! Some will say that this is crazy: you had this thirst that you did not will and now that you’re liberated from it, you want it again? But it was not I, really, who willed the removal of the craving – again, something happened apart from my own willing to put me in this situation! I am no more free now if I did not will the abrupt cessation in the same way that I did not will the original craving.

It is strange to talk in this fashion for it is truly me – my will, maybe my mind? – who is doing the desiring and the desiring of the desire, but it is also me – my body, either in stomach or just in the brain – who is controlling it all. Perhaps willpower is not as powerful as we’d like. It seems odd that I at the same time both want and don’t want (and want to want and don’t want to want, ad infinitum), but that is the nature of the situation. As much fulfillment there is (or, was) from the coffee for what it did for me, and also the satisfying of the craving itself, am I yet irrational in my second-order desire? Ought I crave the craving, or be content coffee-need-less?

Hail to the Chief (A Charge to Philosophers)

Officer elections were held last night, and I am pleased to say that the club is left in very capable hands; this is one of the first years where I feel that every officer is fully capable, responsible, and has a passion for what we do. Congratulations to those elected! Even though it's time for me to retire from my position as Editor-in-Chief (due in no small part to my upcoming graduation), I might continue to post on occasion as a Guest Writer; we shall see what happens.

At any rate, Andrea Lowry, Arete's new Editor-in-Chief, has been a poster for quite some time, and will do a great job running the blog. I'm sure that she will handle things very well, continue to innovate, and perhaps even recruit some new writers and commenters into the mix. Hopefully some of the new officers will even consider posting a bit!

So, thanks for reading my posts throughout the months. I've come a long way from those first few posts, and even managed to create a few that I am genuinely proud of.

I would challenge you, dear reader, to be active! Take charge! Write something, post something, comment on something. Your investment bears a causal relationship to your return, and the responsibility you assume bears a direct correlation with your investment. If you're not active in the club, come check out a meeting! If you're not an officer, but have some ideas, talk to an officer and see if you can get something started! And, if you've been blessed with the opportunity to be an officer, make the most of it-- I can assure you that, if you work hard and maintain a passion for what you do, it can be one of the most rewarding experiences throughout your entire college experience.

I humbly say that I have been blessed with many opportunities, and for them I am grateful. However, I firmly believe that I have pursued them, as best I could, to the furthest ends possible, and I do believe that I have made a long-term impact on the club, its members, and even myself. I'm sad that my time as President has drawn to a close, but I am proud of how I used the time I was given. New officers, don't stand by the sidelines; act! Take control! Use this time creatively and forcefully, because it is incredible how quickly it goes. Philosophia Religioque-- now the Berry Philosophical Society-- is a club, but it has the potential to subjectively be much more if you live up to it. I would dare say that we have done things of importance, of significance, and, odd as this may sound for some, there is contained within the potential for edification, and for glory.

It has been a glorious year indeed!

Please note that, unless otherwise indicated by Andrea, this post is ineligible for the Arete contest.