Sigh October 9, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Dwight Furrow's Posts, Philosophy, Science.3 comments
When will people stop making arguments like this?
“But the materialists have two problems. Their certainty of victory is, for the moment, a leap of faith. There is no clear scientific consensus on how the brain produces the higher functions we call being human. And, second, the great mystery, the ultimate hard question, remains: How does matter produce mind, how can it? Irrespective of religious belief, immaterialism cannot easily be dismissed. What is the nature of what I am thinking and feeling now? To tell me that it is all a by-product of my brain is to tell me nothing. What I am is at least as real as the chair I am sitting on, and what I am seems to be immaterial.”
This is simple nonsense. The fact that a research program is relatively new and incomplete is not evidence that some alternative hypothesis must be true–especially when there is substantial evidence supporting the research program and no evidence supporting the alternative hypothesis.
Cognitive science and neuroscience continue to make empirically testable hypotheses and have explained a variety of complex mental functions, though a complete explanation of consciousness is still elusive. The alternative, that there is some sort of “soul” that explains mental functioning, has generated few empirically-testable hypotheses, those that have been tested have failed the test, and the hypothesis itself borders on the incoherent. No one has ever suggested a remotely plausible answer to the question of how a non-physical substance can causally interact with a physical substance.
Confidence in materialism (or physicalism) is not based on faith but on evidence. It is a plain fact that mental states are exactly correlated with a range of specific brain events. Although a correlation between mind and body does not guarantee a causal relationship, if physicalism were false, this correlation would be an utter mystery. Furthermore, the causal relationship has been established with regard to a variety of mental functions.
Give it up already.
Healthy, Wealthy, and Dumb? September 5, 2007
Posted by Nina Rosenstand in Current Events, Nina Rosenstand's Posts, Philosophy, Political Philosophy.6 comments
Philosophers are feeling the heat in France these days: The French finance minister Christine Lagarde (the Sarkozy administration) suggests the French should think less and work harder! This according to The New York Times:
In proposing a tax-cut law last week, Finance Minister Christine Lagarde bluntly advised the French people to abandon their “old national habit.” “France is a country that thinks,” she told the National Assembly. “There is hardly an ideology that we haven’t turned into a theory. We have in our libraries enough to talk about for centuries to come. This is why I would like to tell you: Enough thinking, already. Roll up your sleeves.”
One might assume her point to be that excessive speculation may lead to a kind of action-paralysis (which may be true), but her comment seems to stem from a perception that if you work hard, you can accumulate wealth, but if you think hard, you can’t work hard. Ergo, if you think, you’ll stay poor, and wealth is good, so thinking must be bad. Huh? For one thing, I would suggest that it is probably a matter of priorities rather than an inherent flaw in the thinking process that most of us who think hard aren’t particularly wealthy. For another, thinking is hard work: the French philosopher and writer Alain Finkielkraut responds in the article that thinking is, in effect, a 24 hour job that you keep on doing even in your sleep. But Finkielkraut takes it one step further, which “sillifies” the entire debate: Not only does he find it offensive that the Sarkozy administration is anti-intellectual; the really offensive thing about President Sarkozy (whom he otherwise supports) is apparently that he is a jogger. Horror of horrors! Finkielkraut points out that all the great philosophers have been walkers, not joggers—a jogging French president is way too American! I hope this whole thing is tongue-in-cheek; otherwise I’d say that’s an excellent example of too much thinking right there…
Getting back to Lagarde: What’s really amusing about her deliberate deselection of the philosophical tradition is that her appeal to being practical rather than theoretical in order to effectuate change is not new at all; who was it who implied that philosophers had done enough thinking, and the time had come to roll up one’s sleeves and take action? None other than Karl Marx himself: “The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point, however, is to change it”…But I’m sure this interesting similarity is unintentional; I doubt that a right-leaning administration such as Sarkozy’s would want to align themselves with Marxism…
What Good is a World View? August 26, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Philosophy, Teaching.4 comments
I suspect that many philosophy professors, when asked what cognitive benefit students acquire in a philosophy class, would respond that students should begin to acquire a world view.
What is a “world view” and why is it good to have one?
“World view” seems to refer to an understanding of how everything in our experience fits together conceptually. (Assuming it does fit together conceptually, which is not obvious.) And I suppose that the great thinkers in history–Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Hegel, Heidegger, etc.–have attempted some sort of comprehensive, synoptic understanding. But this is a devilishly difficult intellectual task and they all seem to have gotten it wrong, since we are still preoccupied with figuring out exactly what they were trying to say and posing an endless stream of objections to their respective world views.
But if these accomplished and devoted thinkers got it wrong, how can we expect our students to get it right? Yes, I know there is value in understanding how the great thinkers of the past got it wrong, but that understanding is not sufficient for constructing a comprehensive alternative view that gets it right. So it is likely that whatever our students come away with will be wrong in some significant respect.
What is the value of a world view that is likely to be false? I suppose the maxim “any port in a storm” applies here but, in a real storm, imaginary ports are dangerous. Isn’t this true of imaginary ideas as well?
Is the Big Bang a Bust? August 18, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Philosophy, Science.11 comments
Physicist Michael J. Disney thinks modern cosmology is in trouble. Essentially his argument is that, in a maturing science, the number of purely theoretical constructions invented to explain observed phenomena should be less than the number of independent observations that confirm the theory.
Apparently, given the proliferation of theoretical constructions such as dark matter, dark energy, etc. and the paucity of independent observatations confirming them, cosmology doesn’t qualify as a maturing science.
Is this a good standard for evaluating a science? We humanistically-trained scholars would like to know.
David Brooks: Is This His Great Awakening? July 21, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Current Events, Philosophy.2 comments
Conservative New York Times columnist David Brooks is best known for two things: Apologist-in-chief for the disaster called the Bush Administration and writer of vaccuous pop sociology books based on his intuitions rather than research.
Apparently he is now turning his attention to philosophy.
In Friday’s NY Times (behind a subscription wall) and also in Saturday’s print version of the Union-Tribune, Brooks praises what philosophers call the “relational self”. Commenting on cognitive scientist Douglas Hofstadter’s recent book “I Am A Strange Loop”, Brooks writes “A self, he believes, is a point of view, a way of seeing the world. It emerges from the conglomeration of all the flares, loops and perceptions that have been shared and developed with others…”
As Brooks rightly points out, this conception of the self emphasizes how much each of us is shaped by relationships with others, and Brooks goes on to argue that this exposes the errors of Ayn Rand individualists who think that a person’s success is wholly a product of her own efforts, and new age narcissists who think the self is some sort of inner being that exists prior to social influence. In other words, we are social beings all the way down and are deeply influenced (though perhaps not determined) by the environment in which we live.
I must say, when I reached this point in the article I began to get a bit queasy because I agree with everything Brooks has said about the self and this is a new experience for me. I have never agreed with anything Brooks writes. And the best is yet to come. Brooks continues, this relational self explains “why it’s so hard to tackle concentrated poverty” because “habits that are common in the underclass areas get inside the brains of those who grow up there and undermine long-range thinking and social trust”. And the relational self also “illuminates the dangers of believing that there is a universal hunger for liberty. That universal hunger may exist in the abstract, but we’re embedded creatures and the way specific individuals perceive liberty depends on context.”
This is all so very surprising because Brooks is pulling the philosophical rug out from under decades (if not centuries) of conservative thought, and Brooks has built a career on praising the virtues of every half-baked neo-conservative idea projected from the bowels of the American Enterprise Institute.
Conservative policies have long been governed by extreme and implausible conceptions of individual responsibility. Their domestic policy has been driven by the idea that if you are poor, sick, uneducated, gay, irreligious, etc. it is because you lack the self-control to make good decisions and act on them. Their foreign policy has been driven by the idea that if you are opposed to U.S. influence in the world, you are simply evil–beyond the reach of reason or moral appeal–and should be eliminated. Since 9/11, conservatives have been constantly bleating that attempts to understand the context of our enemies grievances are irrelevant, and efforts to ameliorate the condition of those with grievances nothing but appeasement. For conservatives, evil is not the product of fallible people facing adverse circumstances, but is some sort of infection that has contaminated the self and can be controlled only through violent suppression.
Operating behind these conservative policies is a view of the self as an isolated individual who flourishes only through strength of will. The self is constituted by its ability to exercise control over itself and others–a cult of the will to power (with apologies to Nietzche for misusing his famous phrase). There is nothing relational in this view of the self. Of course conservatives often praise some relationships. “Family values” have been high on their agenda as long as the family is headed by a father with the strength of will to control his wife’s desire for autonomy and to punish the kids if they turn out to be gay. And patriotism also receives high praise as long as that means a willingness to beat up on anyone who is not American. The relationship is simply raw material on which the will acts–it does not constitute the self.
So what gives with Brook’s encomium to the relational self? Is this his great awakening? I doubt it. He probably is just clueless about the implications of Hofstadter’s view. But then cluelessness seems a constitutive element of the conservative self.
Radical Hope and the Atheist’s Dilemma June 21, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Culture, Ethics, Philosophy.4 comments
Radical Hope is the ability to maintain hope in a meaningful existence even when one’s existence has lost all meaning. It is hope that goes beyond one’s ability to formulate an idea of what one hopes for.
In his new book Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation, philosopher Jonathan Lear uses the idea of radical hope to explain how human beings confront the cataclysmic loss of traditional ways of life. The subject of this case study is the Crow nation, a migratory tribe dependent on hunting buffalo and defending their hunting grounds who, when the buffalo disappeared from the plains, lost not only their means of material support but their entire conception of how to live a meaningful life.
The leader of the Crow nation, Plenty Coups, told his biographer: “But when the buffalo went away the hearts of my people fell to the ground, and they could not lift them up again. After this, nothing happened.” On Lear’s interpretation, this statement “After this, nothing happened” means that actions that define who and what one is were no longer possible so “the very acts themselves have ceased to make sense.” As Charles Taylor points out in his review of the book, “There are no alternative careers waiting for an ex-warrior; he probably has a wife and children, but what does it mean to be a father if you can’t hand on the skills of a warrior?” Nothing could happen because no way forward could be concretely envisioned.
Yet, Plenty Coups was able to conceptualize and communicate an ideal of personal courage that would enable the Crow to respond to almost any possible future. Plenty Coups had dreamed of an apocalyptic future for his people, but in that dream his people were promised a future so long as they emulated the Chickadee-person, an iconic figure in Crow mythology whose key attribute is the ability to listen to others and learn from them. Plenty Coups was able to communicate this new ideal of courage in the face of the unknown exemplified by the Chickadee-person, and it would give the Crow the flexibility to create new definitions of a meaningful life despite their inability to conceptualize their future. Something would bring about the fulfillment of the prophecy in the dream though they knew not what. This is radical hope.
Lear’s book is interesting because it contains a deep understanding of courage. To confront the unknown with intelligence and openness without lashing out in anger or engaging in consoling illusions is a kind of courage too often ignored. Lear contrasts Plenty Coups’ actions with those of the Sioux Nation under Sitting Bull, who rested their hopes on a savior who would punish white people and enable them to return to their old ways. Unlike the Crow, the Sioux turned away from the future in favor of a past that could never return.
Lear’s book is interesting also because it casts light on the origins and persistence of religion. Most human beings throughout most of history have either faced circumstances such as those that confronted the Crow nation, or have seen themselves as vulnerable to such devastating loss. Most human beings, I imagine, have felt intensely the need for radical hope and have turned to religion to supply it.Of course, most religions attempt to fill in the unknown with particular doctrines and conceptions of God. To the extent these doctrines become formulae for belief and consoling illusions, their adherents fail to exhibit the courage that radical hope demands of us. Yet, many religious folks are quite aware of the radical uncertainty of their beliefs and persistently acknowledge this uncertainty in their lives. The motive of religious belief is radical hope, even if in practice the hope often devolves into ordinary special pleading.
In recent years, books pointing out the irrationality of religious belief, by writers such as Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris, have received a great deal of deserved attention. These are important books that prosecute compelling arguments for atheism. However, these arguments miss this important dimension of radical hope. Radical hope is irrational because it cannot rest on evidence. But its irrationality is beside the point, because it expresses the human need to confront uncertainty with courage. It is not obvious that atheism offers anything like radical hope. Atheism demands that we be rational but then cannot articulate a crucial human capacity that is beyond reason. Until it is able to encourage the motives that enable radical hope and the courage such hope demands of us, atheism is likely to remain a minority taste.
Richard Rorty Has Died June 10, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Philosophy.3 comments
Richard Rorty has died.
I am saddened by his death. I never had the opportunity to meet him, but I have spent countless hours reading his work and grappling with his arguments. He has influenced me deeply.
Rorty devoted much of his intellectual life to showing that philosophy is not discovering timeless, ultimate truths but is inevitably situated in its cultural and historical moment. On that point, I am convinced Rorty was right, just as I am convinced that we are social creatures all the way down, another of Rorty’s themes.
I remain unconvinced that we can do without metaphysical beliefs or that we can imagine something like a post-philosophical culture. And although I admire his commitment to liberalism and studied with interest his version of it, I think it is “weak tea”, insufficiently robust to withstand the forces that threaten liberalism.
If he leaves us with one thought, it is that a quaking uncertainty about our foundational beliefs is necessary for the health of philosophy as well as culture. His work is a model of how to live intellectually with that uncertainty. He is indeed a legitimate heir to Socrates.
May he rest in peace.
A discussion of his legacy is on-going over at Crooked Timber.
Imitation is the Mother of Intelligence June 8, 2007
Posted by Nina Rosenstand in Animal Intelligence, Nina Rosenstand's Posts, Philosophy.3 comments
According to a Washington Post article, “What Were They Thinking? More Than We Knew”, dogs have been shown to be able to imitate atypical actions of other dogs. I am not completely surprised at the findings, only at the courage to publish (we all know about the Clever Hans curse). I had the privilege of watching our beloved wonder dog over 12 years expanding her comprehension-vocabulary and “tricks” with things we never taught her, but which she observed, remembered, and imitated. An alien intelligence, right there by the fireplace! Why is it so important to have established that dogs can imitate each other? Because it is one of the true tests of intelligence: having a Theory of Mind, an understanding of “Other Minds:” Brian Hare of the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology says, “This suggests they can actually think about your intention — they can look for explanations of your behavior and make inferences about what you are thinking.”
As a philosophy student a couple of centuries ago I was told that (1) only humans can think, (2) only humans can feel, and (3) only humans have morals. Over the years I started doubting first one, then the other, and lastly the third one; and animal behaviorists and neurologists are now showing us what anecdotal evidence has hinted at all along (which was enough for Darwin), that many animals have rudimentary logical thinking, complex emotional reactions, and even some form of community awareness (if we want to call that “moral” is another question). Apes have been shown to have self-awareness through the mirror self-recognition test, and dolphins and elephants have been added to that list. And now…could dogs be joining the club? The question is, can you imitate what someone else is doing, deliberately, without knowing that you are doing it? In other words, does it imply self-awareness? Skeptics say no, we’re falling for the old anthropomorphizing trick again, dogs are automata working on pure instinct, and if we call dogs self-aware, then we’ve watered down the concept of self-awareness. But as David Hume said in the 18th century, if it quacks like a duck, and walks like a duck, guess what? Well, not in those exact words, but he did say that if animals display the same kind of behavior that humans do under certain circumstances, and we call the human behavior intelligent, there is no reason why we shouldn’t use the same terms when describing animal behavior. Although it’s a little too soon to declare that dogs ought to have the right to vote and to receive a basic education …This story takes us in two directions: one toward epistemology, and the other toward ethics.
What Was in Plato’s Kitchen? June 6, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Ethics, Food and Drink, Philosophy.4 comments
According to Plato, taking pleasure in food is the enemy of philosophy and of culture–a hindrance to reason.
“In order then that disease might not quickly destroy us, and lest our mortal race should perish without fulfilling its end–intending to provide against this, the gods made what is called the lower belly, to be a receptacle for the superfluous meat and drink, and formed the convolution of the bowels, so that the food might be prevented from passing quickly through and compelling the body to require more food, thus producing insatiable gluttony and making the whole race an enemy to philosophy and culture, and rebellious against the divinest element within us.” (Timaeus, 72e-73a)
But, as this article from the Columbia Journalism Review makes clear, food and its pleasures influence almost every aspect of life–economics, the environment, ethical choices, not to mention the aesthetics of everyday life. There is ample food for thought here.
So what must have been in Plato’s kitchen that gave him such a fright? A bad hunk of lamb? A wayward bottle of retzina encountered at a tender age? Perhaps a forbidden slave girl that got him into trouble?
Philosophy is the occasion for endless speculation.
All The World is a Stage May 18, 2007
Posted by Dwight Furrow in Philosophy, Teaching.9 comments
In “The Prestige”, a film about two 19th Century magicians competing for prestige, we learn that a successful magic trick contains three elements: the Pledge, in which the magician shows us something ordinary yet hints at an impending mystery; the Turn, in which the ordinary is made to do something extraordinary while the atmosphere grows thick with suspense; and the Prestige, the final act, in which we are led to see something shocking that we have never seen before.
Isn’t this how we teach philosophy? We take an ordinary concept that everyone takes for granted and we hint at a deep problem. We then make the concept disappear, dismantling the scaffolding that holds an idea in place, as our students anxiously wonder how something so obvious and necessary could be so doubtful. Finally, through a serious of logical maneuvers and much handwaving that must look like magic to our students, we make it reappear in a new guise, with the promise that it might disappear again if you come back tomorrow.
As the end of the semester approaches, I suspect that the trick is getting old.
