Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Valediction

[val-i-dik-shuhn] –noun
1.an act of bidding farewell or taking leave.
2.an utterance, oration, or the like, given in bidding farewell or taking leave; valedictory.

~~~~~~~

Here we go. Through the course of this class, I do believe I've been inculcated with several important tenets of meta, normative and applied ethics. Innumerable key concepts have been elucidated for me, in a manner neither spurious nor reeking of tarradiddle. Thankfully, unlike some teachers, Professor Johnson did not engage in histrionics to get his point across, and instead approached the class like a deipnosophist, with the room being the table. The class grew in me a predilection for stimulating conversation, and I would sing my paean each day I returned from class to empty my brain onto a blog entry. Yet never was my curiosity slaked--each topic retained extant questions, from which truth awaited, and some were eventually stentorian and clear in their answers. I had my share of bouleversements, and treated my blog, whether I was writing in it or not, as a vade mecum, in which I could trust to lay out what information I had collected and attempt to interpret it.

The class never demanded us to be myrmidons, and hopefully indirectly convinced us not to be sybarites. I may not be a polyglot, but I tried to understand every word. As a person who often vacillates in decisions, the class was an aid to my confidence in moral choices, affirming merely through its persistence in discussing various topics. We parsed what we could with as much perspicacity as could be mustered, and even where we couldn't, abandoned sciolicisms in favored of continued consideration. We traduced none, thoughtfully contemplated our hirsute nonhumans and attempted magnanimity in our observations. Now that it's over, I'm restive and even more curious. This class was never somniferous to me.

~~~~~~~

Well, I must say this has been a very engaging class. The format is probably the most efficacious I've encountered, particularly with the emphasis on personal reflection (as should be the major foundation for all courses, but philosophy in particular). I am grateful for the classroom discussions, hopeful that I didn't make too many unnecessary comments, and look forward to future philosophy classes, hopefully continuing this broader sense of understanding I've always been seeking, but, it seems, always just now finding. Hopefully I'll be right on the verge of some great epiphany for the rest of my life. Onward and upward.

Magnanimous

[mag-nan-uh-muhs] –adjective
1.generous in forgiving an insult or injury; free from petty resentfulness or vindictiveness: to be magnanimous toward one's enemies.
2.high-minded; noble: a just and magnanimous ruler.
3.proceeding from or revealing generosity or nobility of mind, character, etc.: a magnanimous gesture of forgiveness.

~~~~~~~

It is amazing to me now that fishing scarcely occurred to me to be unethical until this year, at least strongly enough to feel appalled. Perhaps understandably, as mentioned in class, humans do not connect well with fish because their lives, appearance and functions are so much different from ours, but hiding a hook within food to pull the creatures by their upper lip into an environment in which they cannot breathe? If one does have an ethical stance on the suffering of nonhumans, this might be a prime place to start—where torture itself is the form of recreation. Few interactions with other creatures can claim the same.

Certainly part of it relies on the comfort we have with our own environment—pulling fish into the air brings them into our area, and so we may have difficulty expecting it would be hellish for the creature. However, were the roles reversed, and we were pulled to the depths, we might have a very different opinion about what our environment seems to be, while our fishy counterparts may be watching curiously. As this will probably not happen (with them in the human-fishing role), we must instead imagine, and I think most people can agree that if fish are intelligent, which I think they are, fishing is a bit barbaric, to say the least.

As a kid I remember considering this, but never really knowing how to feel about it. In my teen years I preferred playing around with a net—seeing fish bleed at times, or trying to wrench sharp hooks out of their mouths never sat well with me. But it wasn’t until recent years that it really dawned, empathetically, what kind of experience fishing is from a fish’s point of view. And perhaps that’s how we should approach inter-species relationships, particularly sentient ones: with attempted empathy. It’s the least we can do, I think.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Perspicacity

\pur-spuh-KAS-uh-tee\, noun:
Clearness of understanding or insight; penetration, discernment.

~~~~~~~

Cruelty is our peculiarity. Consider this: let’s say those mussels, as discussed in class today, were introduced to their new environment naturally, immediately taking over and exterminating/altering huge populations of wildlife. Is this cruel? Of course not. Biological nature’s ebb and flow cannot be blamed for cruelty, even if the creatures themselves died horrible deaths, and in huge numbers. We can intellectualize the event as such, but that sympathy will remain ours alone. Survival demands death, even on a large scale.

Now let’s go with an alien example. We’re living out our lives here on Earth, and one day a spaceship descends from the cosmos, lands in Idaho, and from it steps a low-sentient creature (let’s say a higher sentient species sent it here because they didn’t like its frilly head) that exhales a toxin deadly to humans alone (I don’t know what it would be, but it’s just an example). All over the world humans would be dying because this new, instinct-governed creature appeared and has the naturally ability to dominate us. The creature is not cruel, it’s just acting according to its genetic programming. In a way, this is much the same scenario as above, as would be any natural disasters that cause creatures harm: Nature is impersonal, and does not have compassion for compassion’s sake. It is neither loving nor cruel, nor can it be blamed for acting as it does.

So why can we? We are natural too, right? Indeed we are, but I feel confident in making the argument that while our intellects are still natural, they operate, in part, outside of the dictations of mere survival. And as that is the case, our introduction to situations cannot be mistaken as willed by Nature alone and excusable on that account. We are the aliens sending away the deadly creature.

We have the most responsibilities of anything on this planet. It is not possible for us to go along with Nature’s dictations anymore (I hope I’m not sounding too distant at this point, Nature isn’t some spiritual force). The best that we can do is what we are good at: problematize what would otherwise be simple, and unearth its relevance to the rest of the world. Each and every one of us are philosophers—a beaver builds a dam for shelter, but we have and intellectually indulge billions of different reasons for constructing homes. As such, we cannot hide under the shroud of impersonal Nature, for we are (more often than not, in interspecies and earthly relations) not its minions. We are relatively autonomous.

As such, we are the breeders of cruelty. For if we were to go into Lake Eerie, and personally kill everything that lives there, we would probably not be doing so to survive (as, of course, if we were somehow doing it to survive, it would likely be justifiable). We utilize a natural sympathy in those instances where we understand, and extend a natural cruelty where we do not or do not want to.

We cannot follow Nature’s orders because we recognize how some of them are flawed in an intellectual perspective: it may make emotional or instinctual sense to kill the person who accidentally ran over and killed your wife, but we must have sympathy, we must have reason to keep ourselves from acting supremely in the interests of underpinned survival techniques (other examples: prejudice, sexual aggression, etc). If we were the mussels, we’d second guess how negative our effects are on that lake. We actually must intellectualize, for the sake of ourselves and others. And thankfully for all of us, more often than not an intellectualization of an affair with most facts brought to light sides us on the arm of sympathy and compassion. How else would we survive with one another?

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Tarradiddle

\tair-uh-DID-uhl\, noun:
1. A petty falsehood; a fib.
2. Pretentious nonsense.

~~~~~~~

Humans are disposed toward objectifying, I think, because if we were to ponder the meaning of each thing we encounter, we would scarcely be able to move. Certainly this notion does not do much justice to our intellectual capacity, but at certain times and places, objects are made out of things that might, on a certain day and with a certain amount of thought, be meaningful. Why?

Because we are the makers of meaning. Perhaps there are two types of objects—those that are as such because of their non-interaction with our intellect, which would place upon them an understanding after asking for some kind of explanation, and then the second type, the one where things become objects for our necessity/enjoyment. The latter is peculiar, in that certain subjects are made objects specifically because of our focus, rather than our ignorance of them. The distinction between involves what meaning we give to that object and the role it fulfills in our satiation.

Acting this way toward one another is inevitable, I think, but not necessarily right. Particularly where humans, similarly self-cognizant intermediaries of thought and action are concerned, it is difficult not to accidentally let this particular objectification for the purpose of our satiation—as we might do with food, the sun, forms of recreation, etc., spill over into the realm of other creatures. It fact, it’s to be expected.

As instinctual and biological creatures, there are some drives that require function beyond what the intellect may demand of the creature in order to stay alive and propagate. This sort of instinct drives sex as well, and tends to (regarding pornography or not) derive objects from subjects due to sexual desires to overrule any intellectual dispositions that might stray from potential propagation.

But we are made best in a thoughtful capacity, I think, which is why I’m undecided on the issue of the morality of pornography. I don’t think I can say with certainty that acting hedonistically is wrong, but when it involves making an object of a sentient creature, it gets hazy. I disagree with zoos but not the mentioned safaris, particularly because, despite what curiosities may be being satiated on our accounts, we are not harming the creatures in pursuit of our enjoyment. So perhaps the biggest problem with pornography is not merely the objectification, but the exploitation (on the part of those being harmed in the creation of pornography), more distinctly?

I only wonder about whether or not objectification is wrong if it causes the subject being objectified no harm. Certainly Kant would say that this might indirectly lead to an inappropriate approach to interaction with subjects later on down the road, and I would agree with him in some cases, as one step in the wrong direction encourages more. But I’m still ambivalent as to whether or not objectification of sentient things is always, under normal circumstances, wrong.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Hirsute

\HUR-soot; HIR-soot; hur-SOOT; hir-SOOT\, adjective:

Covered with hair; set with bristles; shaggy; hairy.

~~~~~~~

The concept of “souls” is one that I think could be left out of the moral rights debate concerning animals.

In the video today, one woman mentioned that she thought all animals not only deserved rights but possessed valuable (implicitly equally valuable) souls. I found myself wondering why the moderator did not ask her to expatiate nor bring up any contention to this point, and realized immediately that had he done so, the argument would have folded into another one completely—into a realm of somewhat arbitrary debate.

Plenty of times in the history of our country has the concept of having a soul tried to infiltrate legislation and moral philosophy to cull worth from things, and time and time again the argument has been proved inadequate. As much as people would like to call themselves faith-based beings, we are all very aware that souls don’t hold up in moral debate. They simply carry no punch, they get proven flimsy and fold under pressure—even by those who believe in them. Especially concerning the moral debate about animals, where arbitrary reasons for their separation from humans abound, the concept of soul flourishes a similarly arbitrary agenda for the other side (sometimes, as in the video).

It is best to argue about things we know, and match it with our intuitions, moral or otherwise. All moral debates will eventually scroll themselves back to macrocosms of personal ethics and moral considerations—even to the point of questioning what morals are all about. We’re all humans, and we often have diverse ideas about things, extending backwards to the cores of our belief systems. But upon engaging in moral debate, we often rely on reason, not because it’s necessarily more correct than faith/spirituality, but because all of us have faculties of reason that are inherently accessible, and that through reasoned information, we can communicate in debates.

This might sound rather harsh in opposition to souls or faith-based reasoning, but I don’t mean it to be. There is certainly a time and place for discussion of the soul, and it does indeed deserve moral attention in any debate after having its tenets laid down. But I do not claim that souls should be for the most part exempt from rights debates for atheist or secular reasons, or that I think reason only flourishes in a lieu of spirituality, but rather that any well-reasoned argument will not rely on faith-based evidence to prove its positions. It’s simple not a good way to argue.

(Also, I don’t mean this to be an attack on that woman or her points. She simply got me thinking. I do, however, disagree that all things have rights, as she did not specify distinctions between living things and lifeless (as far as we know) matter, but I’m not quite prepared to give a few paragraphs on that yet.)

Monday, November 26, 2007

Somniferous

[som-nif-er-uhs, suhm-] adjective

bringing or inducing sleep, as drugs or influences.

~~~~~~~

It occurred to me some time ago that the only way to find a fulfilling life is to introspectively identify the intellectual stimulants that inspire, engage and spur oneself into action. I have seen more than many fall into the Gordian knot sometimes encouraged by society, that personal goals for stimulation can be set with indicators of success like grades or money allotting one consistent report cards. This has always mystified me, as almost everyone I’ve ever met lucidly understands that money or a career is not in the least the node in life that will bring them the most satisfaction. Why are we so addicted to work?

It’s a rhetorical question, but one I ask incredulously in the face of so many superficial engagements. It may be too bold to say, but personal fulfillment can never be appropriately set by anyone but the self. We are each idiosyncratically disposed toward a certain, but subject to change, set of inspirations and engagements that allots us the mental and emotional energy to pursue stimulating ends. That’s a rather overcomplicated way of saying we’re creative, and that’s cool.

But certain specters have always traditionally loomed over the considerable personal crusade of leading a fulfilling life, most notably, money. If we were to care about survival alone, i.e. eating, shelter, etc, then we could complete our toilsome work in a couple of hours and spend the rest of the day engaging ourselves in other activities, like many of the so-called ‘underdeveloped’ tribes do. However, with the new specter of survival, the societal survival, we are pressed to engage our lives almost wholesale in the pursuit of non-fulfilling means in the hope of eventual fulfillment, and almost everyone knows it’s bullshit!

There’s much to be said about courageous and relentless introspection. But most of all, I think its benefits are greatest in this: no matter what goals may be (without contention, on my part) possibly fulfilling in our lives, be it love, raising a family or working hard, it will all (even love) be for naught if we do not engage it seeking intellectual stimulation. It’s interesting that love is the easiest, because we’re allowed freedom from societal constructions for at least some of love—we engage our hopes and vulnerable fears in the pursuit of true human connection. But when it comes to work we are too often detoured.

Humans are intellectually voracious. Given correct encouragement and stimuli, they produce fascinating things—almost every one of them. While it may be rather more difficult to change what the specter of society may or may not demand, it is much easier to engage the simple principle of being self-fulfilling persons. In the face of detours it requires courage, but there is no work, no goal, and no life more fulfilling than a personal achievement met.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Deipnosophist

\dyp-NOS-uh-fist\, noun:

Someone who is skilled in table talk.

~~~~~~~

I've noted before that the internet is the last true democratic forum, but I've begun to think lately that maybe it's the only successful one. Ever.

Consider this: even newspapers, film, television and radio reach a certain audience. And if they do manage to be proliferated across the globe, it's through mediums that more than likely have some say in what they are proliferating. So whether the range is too small, or the censorship too big, the common person has, in some way or another, their voice restricted.

The internet does away with these boundaries completely (so long as the person can access it). Sure, it does not offer each and every person instant fame, nor worldwide viewership--but it does exactly what a democratic system should: give each and every person a place where their voice can be heard. People is Japan may not care about my opinion. But if they want to, it's available to them.

Democracy thrives not only on information, but free opinion. Only in perusing the opinions of others can we evolve our own, and truly communicate with one another. One of the great things about the internet is that, save the language barrier, it is not locally exclusive. It connects the entire world in a democratic forum, even if the country is not a democracy! (This is, of course, exempting those countries that have already recognized the power of the internet and are stifling it).

This is why I say the internet is the only successful democratic forum ever (but hopefully only the first). It is a chance for not only the opinions, but the personalities, lives and true interpersonal communication between people to suffer no filters. Once the internet is so cheap it is readily accessible to a large majority of the globe, we have found a place where democracy thrives for the first time, and perhaps it will actually teach us how democracy is supposed to function in the first place.

Now, there are several corporations who want a hand in censoring the internet. Allowing internet providers to put blockers on our information would ruin this so incredibly perfectly free-form system that we have now. It would undo all of the things I just said, and reduce the internet to the effectiveness of the rest of media. This cannot be allowed to happen. Even if one doesn't like the opinions on the internet, stifling them will crush the gift the internet brings: true mental human autonomy. And without that, we have nothing.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Restive

\RES-tiv\, adjective:
1. Impatient under restriction, delay, coercion, or opposition; resisting control.
2. Unwilling to go on; obstinate in refusing to move forward; stubborn.

~~~~~~~

More on the alienating functions of society, the religious one catches me rather intriguingly. Religion retains a certain amount of comfort, in that it settles some of the more profound difficulties in living a balanced life. But by doing so with the weapon of faith (which is, in several circumstances, employed specifically to defend an un-provable/false claim), religion has the tendency and ability to alienate us from a meaningful human experience.

Most religions carry with them a set of identifiable, divinely-backed morals. This alone is as much a comfort as it is abstruse. The way I figure it (and surely, others will differ) is that god (or gods) does not update his rule book very often. The morality of the people was set several thousand years ago, and often is found insufficient (though surprisingly malleable and applicable, due to their vague and overarching principles) to guide our emerging (rather than legendary, but those too) moral concerns. Thus, god’s law or not, we end up determining morals for ourselves, but with the added burden of trying to fit the deity’s (infallible) concerns into the mix. Comfort in religion’s morality is an often times obdurate affair.

Similarly effectual is our knowledge of an afterlife. This a question no human faculty is designed to expatiate. If there is an afterlife, we won’t likely know for certain until we’re dead. Religion often offers exactly what our hopes might dictate—that there most definitely is an afterlife, and that, should we follow the rules set above (even though the criteria is constantly mutable), it will be a happy afterlife. In the niche where the human mind cannot reach, religion preys (and I use that word not intending a negative connotation, as I do not think religion so malicious) on our greatest fear—that this life is all we have. Being persistently assured otherwise robs of us autonomous investigation of the scenario, demanding, rather than careful thought, evidence-less belief in which our hopes are likely (and rightfully so) to side with the more appealing thought of life after death.

This is not to say that just because we hope it’s true, it’s not, but rather that it is interesting to note religion’s comfortable space between what we fear and what we cannot know—in order to alienate us from what emotional difficulties we may have to face: morally, as humans or even as sentient biological creatures.

The list goes on, of that which religion supposedly frees us from fearing. But in that freedom, I think, we are alienated from the reality of our situation by constantly (but never empirically) being ensured of an afterlife, by persistently escaping from experiencing our own, internal, more powerful self-judgment by leaving that up to an infallible entity, and even, in some cases, the pursuit of knowledge—as sooner or later we’ll meet every single human’s greatest dream: an entity that not only loves us, but knows everything. What greater gift could we hope for than an eternally reappearing and prolific father character with all the answers. When we were children, we wanted to know everything about the world. Becoming an adult, for me at least, was learning that your parents don’t know as much as you thought, and neither does any adult. We’re all in the same boat, seeking the same answers. Being alienated in that search by religion is just about the last thing we should do.

But I could not envision the world any different—after all, religion is just another one of those opinion matters that separate humans from one another, albeit in a peculiar way. It would be wondrous if there was an infallible pillar of truth that would take all of this difficult soul searching from us, but from all I have learned, each of these pillars have crumbled under our investigation. Perhaps if there were error bars in religion (as faith itself exists against a sliding scale against evidence rather than toward), then perhaps it would not be so alienating to believe that an entity in the sky is setting one’s prerogatives. But as, by most meanings of the word, god/gods are alien, this is a difficult concept to defend.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Parse

\PAHRS\, transitive verb:
1. To resolve (as a sentence) into its component parts of speech with an explanation of the form, function, and syntactical relationship of each part.
2. To describe grammatically by stating its part of speech, form, and syntactical relationships in a sentence.
3. To examine closely or analyze critically, especially by breaking up into components.
4. To make sense of; to comprehend.
5. (Computer Science) To analyze or separate (input, for example) into more easily processed components.

intransitive verb:
1. To admit of being parsed.

~~~~~~~

Society can be conducive to creativity or suppressive of it. Certainly freedom (from conventions, prescriptions, unnecessary traditions/predilections) is at its peak without society, but the benefits of mutual inspiration gleaned from having many humans instead of a few are more than enough evidence to claim a social environment more fulfilling. Therefore, society has the ability, through sheer abundance of people, to provide meaningful connections, illuminating epiphanies, and all-around inspiration from any possible sentient outlet. So why’s it so often suppressive?

We all heard Marx in class, so I won’t reiterate too much, but those alienation principles ring very profoundly, I think. Especially felt in our own, more capitalist society, there is a noticeable, constructed tendency toward looking forward to a more fulfilling life, be it after high school, after college, in the summer, on vacation or on the weekends. This is not constructed by a society wishing to profit off of us alone—it also takes advantage of a natural human penchant for being auspicious about what might come next. It’s natural to dream.

It’s also natural to believe that if we want something, we have to work for it. Elaborated, embellished, and combined with the above principles, this becomes the very ethic driving the work force into unfulfilling jobs and lives. An engaged and manipulated human penchant for hope.

Perhaps it’s in part due to the goals in our minds. Upon reaching this next tier, I will be happier. If I give up a little more happiness now, I will be happier later. These things are certainly not always false, but the problem with them is that they’re most often prescribed by outside influences. The difficulty with the affair of hope, perhaps, can be divided in two. One, in being quixotic without an appropriate, realistic (critical/skeptical) referent. The other, having our tiers of proposed happiness set by anyone but ourselves.

A human peculiarity is to be in control of his/her condition. Removing ourselves from nature and evolution occurred, whereupon we considered our instincts and situations and chose to act in such a matter that would delegate us more benefits than would natural selection. This alienates us, first, from nature. Then, upon the construction of societies, two extremes come into view, with neither being entirely embodied, but rather, each society leaning toward one or the other: a society in which personal fulfillment is valued, and a society in which personal fulfillment is sacrificed in the hope of its ascertainment. Put like that (and perhaps I am putting it wrong) the sound choice is clear.

But we cannot depend on society to delegate us better levels of personal fulfillment, even if we can ask of it not to demand us to sacrifice it (and this is where the best social reform can appear). Instead, we must recognize, for our own benefit, that expecting happiness just around the corner will not only never actually materialize, but actually demands our disappointment. As can be said about our approach to aliens, deities, ghosts, the afterlife (not to degenerate these examples, but merely citing some possible fallacies) and any number of interesting but difficult to prove notions, our imagination has the capacity and tendency to run amok, and in the end, disappoint us with our own ability for hope.

“Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.” --Carl Sagan

But we should not cease to hope. Instead, we can cease to rely on our imaginations to form various Arcadias lurking amongst elusive specters like degrees, jobs, vacations and even spouses. True fulfillment, I think, stems not from a goal, but from an approach to the race, so to say. A disposition that, upon its activation every morning and its enactment throughout the day, has the ability for one to feel as if, for all one might hope for in the future, life is good now. We must curb hope in order to feel happy, in some sense of irony. Because true and realistic hope isn’t elusive it all—rather, it waits in every moment and every day (hopefully I’m not sounding too flimsily optimistic/cheesy), under the guise of recognizing obstacles, people, the natural world and seemingly meaningless actions as opportunities.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Vacillate

–verb (used without object), -lat·ed, -lat·ing.

1.to waver in mind or opinion; be indecisive or irresolute: His tendency to vacillate makes him a poor leader.
2.to sway unsteadily; waver; totter; stagger.
3.to oscillate or fluctuate.

~~~~~~~

Meat is a clear violation of my ethics concerning animals—at the very least, I have no qualms believing animals deserve the right to life. But where other rights are concerned, I have become uncertain.

Both food choices (vegetarian and vegan) are protests, as I’m not the one performing the injustice, but I am helping it along by being a participant. But I’m sincerely stuck on milk and eggs, since, were these two products taken from these animals in the wild, I would have much less of a problem with it. Like the byproducts of any animal, these, so long as retrieving the items without causing undue harm or detriment to the creature’s existence, would carry with it little immoral benefit--I am somewhat (but not convincingly) leaning toward these not being inherently ill-gotten gains. A case can be made for leaving animals alone altogether, including reaping whatever benefits they might sow—I myself have made such a case in the past. But does it hold up?

Should cows and chickens be unknowing beneficiaries of our enjoyment/satiating? I cannot think of reasons why they should. If we can find alternatives, then where to we get the right to plant our flag in their midst? Yet again, one can refer to the fact that humans have done such flag planting everywhere, from land to agriculture and up to animals, but these animals we’re considering are no automata. I have considered automata, and interference in that only worries me to the extent that we assume too much as ours, but at least the cruelty caused through suffering or even restraint is fairly unknowing to those being taken advantage of (i.e. bugs and the like). But cows and chickens, with cows especially highlighted, are sentient beings. They may be dumber that us, but what rights do they have as lifeforms? Do they have the right to live? Certainly. Do they have the right not to be manipulated? I don’t know.

My sympathies often rest on the side of the animals, due to the unavoidable truth that (most) humans could live completely without the byproducts of milk and eggs. As well, factory farming intuitively tugs at me as wrong, as even should these creatures’ lives be safe (under some other system), their existences would be, primarily, for our benefit, with little gained in return apart from, perhaps, a more pacified and less stressful existence (depending on the conditions under which they are raised). Should we reap what benefits they have to sow, if a compromise can be met, if they can be allowed to live as they will and our exchange for their goods in some way benefits them? Is veganism a protest, or a categorical ethical imperative? I don’t know.

I am vexed.

Friday, November 9, 2007

Polyglot

\POL-ee-glot\, adjective:
1. Containing or made up of several languages.
2. Writing, speaking, or versed in many languages.

~~~~~~~

If the class divide is such that a very small percentage of individuals own most of a country’s wealth, we have a capitalist country. If the government panders to the interests and receives monetary sums from the capitalist class, we have a capitalist country. If the rights to information are impinged by the monetary influence of an owning corporation or governmental influence, we have a capitalist country. If the rights to life and liberty become successively undermined by worsening conditions in the class divide, and little is done about it (as higher classes require the manipulation of the lower), we have a capitalist country.

These are some of the most extreme examples—I’m not saying all of them are true in our country, or that, if they are, they’re entirely fulfilled, but certainly all of them will ring bells.

Capitalism and democracy. Can the two coincide? Of course, but on a sliding scale. The more capitalist a country is, the less democratic it becomes. The bigger the class divide, the smaller the equality to rights and free market there actually is. If some votes counts for more because they’re paid for, we’ve lost something democratically essential. I do believe we live in a reasonably definite capitalist country, where democracy is retained but much less potent than it once was or should be.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Sciolism

\SY-uh-liz-uhm\, noun:
Superficial knowledge; a superficial show of learning.

~~~~~~~

We need be critical. For a moment, let’s ignore the role of media in our lives. Even in gaining knowledge from scholars, the wise and the learned, we need be critical. Knowledge does not pass from person to person unaffected by personal bias, with bias here meaning “the way in which we perceive”. To perceive in the first place requires that evidence be filtered through our own senses, our own internal logic machines, our own minds. No matter how wise the person who receives information is, in passing it to another human being it will be information altered from its neutral state and filtered through a person’s mind. Thus, though we can judge the reputability of our sources, we need always be critical.

Now, to put information through a sieve that is not only unwillingly biased, but pointedly so, is an even greater danger to a non-critical public. The more prolific the messages through this sieve are, the greater both the need for critical thinking and the ability to perform it become. We end up needing to be cynics just to get through an hour of news! It is such that nowadays there is far more to be skeptical about in common knowledge than there is to be credulous. Far, far more. So much so that, since the advent of postmodernism (and before, but explosively since), it’s been suggested continuously that there is no such thing as truth.

We’ve been lied to enough to doubt truth itself. This is indicative both of a lethargic state of mind (why fix my understandings if I can just deny understanding is possible?) and how bad it’s gotten. Human knowledge is necessarily biased, because nothing can merely perceive. Everything, human, computer, nonhuman animal—everything utilizes sensory perception and subsequent intellectual or emotional processing. This does not undermine the search for truth, I think, only re-institute that we are fallible receptacles for the universe. And as such, to have aggregates of corporate control filtering information as unbiased journalism is unfeasible. We need be critical.

But it’s not all evil—I hold to this fact rigorously. It may be that certain groups of individuals control all of the media. But we live in an age of media and population explosion—where there is more people, more prolific information, and a much more definite basis for the phrase “common knowledge” than ever before. We, as a species, have grown closer due to the proliferation of information, and we’re still grappling with the consequences.

I am almost certain the cure was found in the Age of Reason, hundreds of years ago, and has merely not found its proper application in common society. Rather than try and pick a leader to make the right decisions for all of us, rather than try and pick a media that will give us the right information, we must empower ourselves with the weapons of skepticism, critical thought, and rigorous investigation. These things sound esoteric—they are as natural as deducing from the smell in your room that your roommate has not done laundry, and then checking the closet to confirm. Logic is easy. We just need to use it in response to those things that make us happy—to question their foundations.

We need to want the truth. Democracy falls upon itself without a public that is educated. I posit that a public is only truly educated when its individuals strive to educate themselves. This is a radical and unlikely notion these days, I know, but if periods like the Age of Reason are any indication, the will of the public can flourish toward self-empowerment, and reasonably must (should their government inevitably become unsatisfactory). Science taught us how to ask. Its methods can teach us how to learn. Only we can teach us how to live. We need be critical.

Friday, November 2, 2007

myrmidon

\MUR-muh-don; -duhn\, noun:
1. (Capitalized) A member of a warlike Thessalian people who followed Achilles on the expedition against Troy.
2. A loyal follower, especially one who executes orders without question, protest, or pity.

~~~~~~~

Continuing with the inherent problem with journalism in mass media, I think that in essence when filtered through sieves of financial necessity, even attempts at objectivity are undermined by supplying reader (and corporate/political) demands. However, hopeless as it might seem that mass media will never attempt objectivity under these prescriptions, I think there is a possible solution.

Financial motivations can, even at the expense of other motivations, take precedent in selling newspapers or advertising on a television broadcast. If no one buys the newspaper, then no opinion gets out—biased or otherwise. If America were to truly demand objectivity (or its semblance) in their journalism, then the financial motivations driving the journalism would actually be shifted (in part) in favor of more objective reporting. Surely, corporate predilections and governmental bias make quick venality of our journalism, but at the end of the day, as I said before, for mass media to truly be mass media, enough people have to see or read it for it to continue as such.

Journalism in the mass media (and not necessarily elsewhere, as well as exempting, for the most part, the internet) requires patrons to survive. Interference on a higher level is a problem, but I think it might be an even greater problem that, in pandering to our interests, we receive fluff. Were our interests, what make us buy newspapers and watch the news, more in line with objective reporting, media would be forced to change. I think that’s an important distinction to make, because the paradox of journalism (which should attempt objectivity) needing necessarily to be owned by a financially successful company is undermined in its more honorable pursuits only with its audience’s compliance.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Vade Mecum

\vay-dee-MEE-kuhm; vah-dee-MAY-\, noun:

1. A book for ready reference; a manual; a handbook.

2. A useful thing that one regularly carries about.

~~~~~~~

If you’re so unhappy with America, then you can just leave. Continual dissatisfaction with the government is rewarded with sentiments akin to “You’re being un-American” with the implication being that to voice (perhaps persistently) an opinion not reflected in the government is to defy American values.

How could anything be further from the truth? The American system itself is set up to promote unfiltered diversity of voice, and to use that voice is fulfilling an American promise. No one will go unheard. Offering an opinion and demanding change is not only not un-American, but necessary for the American system to function.

Perhaps most would prefer democracy when it works for them—it would not be a foreign premise, I think. It is certainly an appealing one, if you’re the one in power. But if real democracy was taken away (more than it has been), most people would scream in unison that they require an arena for their opinion in order for government to be successful. We cannot ask that opinions flee the arena due to their confliction with our own, nor can we ask those dissatisfied with the government to depart.

Like with science (as those writing the Constitution noticed), unpopular opinions must be voiced in order for balance and order to be maintained; in order for government to be successful and representative of the masses. Revolution is stemmed specifically by demanding it as a given right, should the people become dissatisfied with their government. Free speech reign because it, above all else, keeps us free.

I try to keep in mind, when encountering differing opinions from my own, that it is always preferable to listen—I may either strengthen my own opinion, find that the other has good points to make, or find someplace in between the auxiliary opinion and my own. Information is not, and should not be perceived as, frightening. Listening only to our own definitions defies American logic. This is, of course, an America long matured (or long after, at least) the original Constitution, but if it had to be built from the ground up again, and had to be effective, I do not think it would be written very differently.

I posit that there is no system of thought that works better without diversity than with it. Unpopular opinion has the ability to be beneficial, and even if it’s not beneficial, without the ability to voice it there is little chance the beneficial opinion could be discovered. We do not have the foresight (or the right) to know which opinions deserve the public stage and which should just get out of the country. We do not have the knowledge to justifiably and epistemologically assume that our opinions are the only ones worth hearing. I’d rather welcome diversity (of all types) into the fray. To me there is nothing more American.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Stentorian

\sten-TOR-ee-uhn\, adjective:

Extremely loud.

~~~~~~~

There exists an intrinsic flaw in much of journalism. Journalism is one of those fields (akin to history and science) where the best of it is created from objectivity. Especially like history, where an accurate retelling of the past is essential to its integrity, and depends upon the objectivity of its presenter, journalism is tasked with retelling on a more ephemeral basis. Due to the nature of the material (being in the present) and its affect on culture and the future, journalism has weight attached to its ability to alter the mood, decisions and wisdom of society. It is often vaguely demanded of journalism to be objective. But how is it possible?

Reporting is done in three basic forms: Television, Newspapers and the Internet. The first two are necessarily owned by someone or something. A newspaper might be owned by a sole person who holds him or herself to high standards of objectivity, or the newspaper might be owned by a large corporation which, as it grew, became less concerned with objectivity and more concerned with a mixture of in-house interest and public predilection. It is not a leap to assume the former is most likely the only one to reach a large and nationally impacting audience.

The power of media and journalism is defined by how large its audience can be. When newspapers were idiosyncratic and local, their potential for objectivity was greater, but their power of audience was much smaller. Therefore, a large problem with journalism in television and newspapers is that its persuasive power is far more often than not (if not, entirely) made possible through large and financially motivated cooperations, whose prerogative is not objectivity. The more blanketed a television broadcast or a newspaper syndication becomes, the more necessary it is for that proliferation to occur under a cooperation with higher interests.

Thus exists the intrinsic flaw involved in 'mass' media. It is far more difficult these days to attempt objective reporting when speaking out in a local neighborhood without some overarching conglomerate sensitive to and censoring certain matters is unlikely. Objectivity in journalism, like its application in history, philosophy and science, thrives on a lack of authority and censorship. So where could objective journalism, on a mass scale, survive?

While it remains an enterprise undermining all of the aforementioned forms of media, the Internet will be the ultimate expression of democracy. Its audience is unlimited--only publicity that is in short reserve, as an online newspaper that holds objectivity in high regard might be worthy of perusal, but virtually unknown. It is in this playground that, should the foothold of major cooperations be unable to wrap their fingers around, classical objective journalism could rise again. It has certainly already begun again, with the proliferation of blogs, which, while they may not always or even often be objective, provide a breadth of opinion far more representative of the American mood than that on the television stations or in the newspaper columns owned by conglomerates. The Internet is the ultimate tool of democracy--an, as far as I can tell so far, effective mode of uncensored interpersonal communication completely embodying the standards of free speech that allow objectivity to be found among seas of bias.

Now, what I may be naive to in this discussion is how television and newspaper reporting differs in other countries (as my knowledge extends little beyond America). I do not envision it being very much different, whether through such media requiring wealthy conglomerations to spread or through governmental control, but it is certainly possible that countries outside of America might have certain widely read newspapers or widely watched television shows that prize objectivity more than most thrive (as it's a gross overstatement to say all American shows or columns are loyal to a higher head).

It's my hope that the Internet will undermine financial (or political) control of information. It has not done a bad job so far--it's wholly possible that someone experiencing a genocide or something of the sort might not be able to take that information to a newspaper, where a cooperation above them has stake in the genocide, but could walk into an internet cafe (this depends on the country, of course, the power requires internet access--a potentially dangerous loophole) and post that information on the web, cutting out the middleman for the unfiltered information. While it may contain a bias in one direction or another, I truly believe there's no better way to present information than uncensored--even if that information is a subjective retelling.

We should demand of ourselves objectivity, but is detrimental to democracy to demand only what we think to be objective information from each other. Instead, as I think was intended in the Constitution, unfiltered free speech, like in matters of philosophy, journalism, history and science, is always conducive to a collective search for truth. To censor anything, whether it is by indirect influence or conglomerate control does nothing more than serve an often-times essentially moral-less higher power that works regardless of personal or professional morals. We owe it to ourselves not to put our information through this sieve, should it taint our observations. Proliferate the internet--the last (so far) free realm of information.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Sybarite

sybarite \SIB-uh-ryt\, noun:

A person devoted to luxury and pleasure.

~~~~~~~

Maybe physics isn't a bad place to start. When the reality hits that the entire universe is governed by a set of impartial laws, that nothing is exempt from these laws, that we can look at these laws (as we have interpreted them) and say, "Look, here is a truth. No matter how many times I drop an apple, it will fall. I understand why, and this truth will never change."

From there, one can wonder how many other laws are like this. One begins to understand the true aim of science (or thought in general)--to find these laws, to make sure they're there, that we can test them. Criterion gets established for the strongest truths. We have to trust our skepticism. To find truth, we find, we have to question ourselves.

We have to question what makes each of us different, at least at some point. It becomes striking how small the differences are, when one looks at the whole picture. Just as the Earth becomes infinitesimally small when recognized in the grand scheme of the universe, so do we. This can be merely depressed, or it can be, more valuably, humbling. One can start to recognize himself or herself as one of many humans spread across the planet. When impartial observations are applied, it becomes clear that much of our lives are the same. We seek love and affirmation. We get afraid, and it makes us hate. Our instincts, intellectualized, combine with social circumstances to make the best and worst of us. We are admirable in our capacity for imagination and mercy.

An individual is not a single, removed entity standing among a sea of faceless or foreign bodies, but a face among faces, subject to many of the same laws of living that all the rest are. And once this concept is established, the question arises: Can we still believe in evil? It is more difficult to be upset with an adversary when one truly understands his or her position. Likewise, it is difficult to justify that any person in the world is evil upon recognizing that we are all subject to many of the same laws, and at the very least are disposed toward the same desires: love, security and health. This is not to say the unflinching laws of physics works its way up into subjective human experience--we are subject to many different laws too, but the most important ones are too similar to label coincidence.

A standard has only just recently, in the last few hundred years, been established in our world: humans are not exempt from a singular, unified description. Spawning from the revolutionary observations of people like Darwin, Freud, Einstein and even Marx, it became clear that humans were not, and should not be, removed from critical observation. While the application of the understanding has been murky (first women and blacks didn't count, now the line is grey with homosexuals, remaining racial tensions, varying religions), the idea that we are really not largely unlike one another is thankfully gaining ground.

It's a bit of a slippery slope scenario: upon understanding that one can't undermine human rights by excusing some people from the grounds of "human" by classifying this description under racial, political, sexual or religious terms, it becomes exponentially clear that there is a correlation between all of these things. They are united by their shallow justification of wrongdoing to other human beings. To strip another human of the rights provided by the recognized standard, one must be classified not only an enemy, but not human. At least it requires more work than it used to.

Inalienable rights. I think that should speak clearly enough. That none of us should be subject to alienation by our fellow humans: that none of us should be considered enemies or evil. What disputes we have can clearly not be settled by gods alone, as they rather prefer to choose sides (at least in the eyes of their propagators) and thus dilute the "we are all human" standard required to find peace among this planet. To claim oneself part of a chosen people is anathema to kindness, freedom from oppression and equality, because chosen people have unchosen adversaries: people subject to different laws and judgments.

The cure? Like I said, physics is not a bad place to start. Seeing pictures like the one in the top right corner remind that even should we be the chosen ones, we have at our hands a feeble amount of power. Secondly, it speaks loudly that our home is a small one that should not be meaninglessly torn apart merely because we as people cannot put into action the very standard that allows our minds and lives to flourish: we all have inalienable rights, because we are all subject to many of the same laws.

And while those laws are not like physics, and cause cruelty to some and not to others, we must always side with the human race before siding with our temporal predilections and dispositions. We only want our group to be chosen because it's a little less fear on our plate, but I truly believe that if we were to realize that fear is largely the same on every plate, it would be a lot harder to satiate by adding to one another's plate in an attempt to clear one's own. How much longer can we ignore our similarly unalienable similarities? To find a standard by which we can understand our species and find a happy peace for all is more advantageous, kind, moral and mentally, emotionally and physically rewarding pursuit than finding temporal ways to keep one or more chosen peoples satisfied.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Extant

\EK-stunt; ek-STANT\, adjective:

Still existing; not destroyed, lost, or extinct.

~~~~~~~

Underage children have the ability to emancipate themselves from their own parents should their conditions of living depreciate to such a place that they are in danger of persistent or lifelong mental, emotional or physical harm. Minors across America, should the situation prove detrimental, can claim themselves the victim of abuse and gain the natural human right to be removed from a dangerous environment.

They are innocent. Terrorists are not. But merely for this reason, should they be stripped of all human rights? I thought that humans with the capacity for moral imperatives and logical reasoning had gotten beyond this point, and the Bush administration insists on tugging us back in an arrogant attempt to claim some lives worthless, or at the very least too evil to be concerned with.

Identifying torture, as the administration has, as nothing more than the actual threat of imminent death is an insult to moral agents worldwide. It undermines with such shallow intention those issues which should be foremost on our table—case in point, the rights of all humans, everywhere. People have a right not to be tortured, and by that I mean the non-morally-reprehensible definition of torture: the revoking of autonomy from a willful human by means of physical, emotional and/or mental duress. Not only is the practice unyielding in substantial or even moderate results, it fundamentally contradicts many of the most important pieces of wisdom we have gained about the worldwide respect for human life and human autonomy.

Since the introduction of agriculture, humans have survived by their very defiance of situations beyond their control. To revoke that from anyone, unless the circumstances prove so severe there is literally no other choice (and those situations are few if any) is incredibly morally reprehensible. That our own government weasels its way into re-instituting it by creating its own shallow definition to sidestep Geneva is an insult to intelligent peoples nationwide. I can’t believe we even need to prove why it’s wrong anymore! The issue should not be extant.

Well, at least I got to use the word of the day in my rant.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Traduce

–verb (used with object), -duced, -duc·ing.

to speak maliciously and falsely of; slander; defame: to traduce someone's character.

~~~~~~~

When in absolute (or effectually/relatively absolute) power, one's greatest fear must be oneself.

It seems an unfortunately natural human impulse to, when removed of insecurities (such as fear for survival or well-being) to, in the absence of fear, relax and exhibit a more impulsive attitude. The United States is a worldwide superpower, likely the greatest (in terms of force, anyway), and has for some time now exhibited, instead of restraint, a penchant for aggressive tendencies. This is the opposite of what I think should be expected of a superpower that is here to stay, one that would, upon receiving the title of "most powerful", rightfully fear, above all else, itself.

As a superpower, it is very easy for our impulsive attitudes to become a serious threat to the rest of the world. Having power and misusing it demands our dismantling. Therefore, should America like to continue being the "most powerful", it should fear itself, its image, and its motives above all else, because this is what will be our undoing.

The current administration has reprehensibly neglected this rather simple and intuitive precept. It has given the world a reason to fear us--and fear is at the heart of rebellion. It is a dark irony, in a way, in that the excuse for excising liberties and percolating impulsive, roguish and arrogant activity around the world is that we are "fighting the war on terror" and effectually becoming the nation most worthy of fear.

Diplomacy and careful introspection is the only way. Aggression, clinging to power, pretending we have nothing to fear--these are the facets of nations, leaders and governments that were not only historically apt to destruction (externally or internally), but necessary to be destroyed, for the safety of the world. If America fears nothing, something is wrong. At the very least the greatest nation in the world can spend more time thinking than acting, and will, as a result, provide a good example of what a modern and hopefully future government should look like: one with humble and democratic intentions. Otherwise we as a country will not survive, and maybe, as a result of our transgressions and the monumental conflict it would take to destruct the current American ego (in terms of international relations, at least, and I use "ego" to mean government), the world itself would fall under threat. I don't think I need elaborate on imperatives past this.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Slake

\SLAYK\, transitive verb:
1. To satisfy; to quench; to extinguish; as, to slake thirst.
2. To cause to lessen; to make less active or intense; to moderate; as, slaking his anger.
3. To cause (as lime) to heat and crumble by treatment with water.

intransitive verb:
1. To become slaked; to crumble or disintegrate, as lime.

~~~~~~~

We must always care for one another's lives.

On this principle alone, I think, the concept of a doubly justified war (as discussed in class) is entirely impossible. Imagine a situation in the hunter-gatherer era, just to make matters simpler. Due to flash floods, one tribe (Tribe B) has been forced into another's (Tribe A) land. There is nowhere else in the world for them to go--they must occupy the same territory. To add, there are insufficient resources to support them both. Nature has willed them into this position.

What if Tribe A, with no resources to support Tribe B, waged war with them to protect their territory, and Tribe B, forced into these circumstances, waged war to survive in the face of limited resources? Both of them require the land and its resources, and there is only enough for one tribe of people.

This is a situation in which both sides' survival is at stake, and even if both sides were moral thinkers, the end result of this combination is certain death for half of Tribe AB. The truly moral thing to do, I think, and it bridges on being supererogatory, is for Tribe A to allot Tribe B a position in their land, and graciously share the resources, facing the hardships together. Even in this situation, war could be averted, though war is a far more likely choice.

In this situation, it is hard to claim that war is unjustified from either side. But the key element here is someone has to strike first. Someone has to claim the survival of their tribe of superior importance than that of the other tribe. Someone has to announce an enemy.

~~~~~~~

Humans have not traveled far from the subconscious instincts preceding self-awareness. If an enemy threatens survival, all of the emotions that flicker on (fear, anger) lead to the intellectual presumption of "evil" and the rousing of hatred. These are severe defense mechanisms: intellectualized notations from the body to protect and fight in order to survive. Applied on a large scale, however, these concepts are dangerous.

We can reason, and as such make the case that none exemplify or even meet the conditions of this base conception of "evil", because of its very nature as a base conception. As such, aggression becomes harder to justify. When we can reason with our enemies, we have less excuses to hate them, and they to us. Even when thrust into situations in which our survival depends on some dying, such as above, we would still have a responsibility to one another rather than purely to our own. We recognize other humans as being worthy of life. We can no longer fight amidst ourselves, without alternatives, purely to survive. The situation simply no longer occurs. Instead, we are faced with a continuous responsibility to recognize one another as humans, and care accordingly. Even taking care of our own does not infer aggression as the first step--only as a last result.

What I'm getting at with all of this is that the hypothetical situation I outlined above is the closest thing to a two-sided fully justified war. I cannot think of a scenario closer, nor one that can fulfill this prescription. And I think the reason is that we have a responsibility to respect and be concerned with the lives of each other, at least as much as we care for ourselves (sounds like the golden rule, maybe it is). As moral beings, we must refuse tactics that attempt to justify our actions, like labeling our enemies evil, or labeling aggression self-defense. These are childish things, I think. But if we undid all our actions, perhaps, we'd find ourselves replete with childish motivation.

~~~~~~~

If the concept of just-war was understood and adhered to worldwide then there would be no war. That alone should invoke an understanding about the aims and morals of war. It is only reasonably justified for one side at a time (much like individual murder). That is the nature of conflict--even though both may be experiencing equally difficult emotions, the first to harm is always in the wrong. This is reminding me of a quote from Jesus Christ now, and in this respect he (or whoever wrote his dialogue) was correct.

We have a responsibility to examine the intentions and hardships of our supposed enemies before unrighteously denouncing, condemning, and forcefully seeking to destroy them. I am not claiming we should stray from self-defense of ourselves or those experiencing horrors like genocide--I am only inferring that we have the responsibility to exhaust to a reasonable degree other means of interaction. And while that is an enormously vague area, I do believe that if it were even attempted, if diplomacy was the standard instead of aggression, then it would welcome our enemies into a more comfortable arena of respect and war would no longer exist.

~~~~~~~

We are able to reason. And if a two-sided, morally justified war is unreasonable, then war itself is unreasonable. We must take care not to be on the side of aggression. If we were to relate this to another moral issue, murder, we must take care not to be the attempted murderer. And to this effect, largely using presumptions of justification rather than actual justification, we (and plenty of nations throughout the history of humanity) have failed.

However, I do think a peaceful arena is possible, and that, despite the spikes on the chart, we have been slowly and steadily moving toward it. At the very least, perhaps, we are slowly applying the standard that everything deserves life, first to our human friends, then to humans in general, as well as, more reluctantly, our human enemies, and finally, perhaps, to all sentient things. Perhaps I'm wrong; I hope I'm not.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Bouleversement

bool-vair-suh-MAWN\, noun:
Complete overthrow; a reversal; a turning upside down.

~~~~~~~

Today's class gave me some more motivation for adopting a diet closer to that of a vegan. I've been making the transition deliberately slow because of my inability to have ever managed a healthy diet, but upon close inspection I've found that the resistance is not due to any moral uncertainties, but lethargy. Giving up meat wasn't that big of a deal. I only really liked chicken anyway. Giving up cake, cheese, milk, things with eggs in them (I never liked eggs themselves): now that's difficult. But even so, most of those things that I enjoy aren't even good for my health (minus the vitamins that I can ascertain elsewhere). Then, when I'm done figuring out what kind of diet will keep me alive and align with my moral understandings, it's time to look at products of all types that I may not even know are derived from nonhuman animals.

This will not be easy.

But the biggest thing for me, I think, is that I'm not being forced to do this. I don't feel like there's a dogma or an authority demanding this of me. A big personal issue I have is that I must feel like (even when it's not the case and I know it) it's my decision. And the only thing I'm satisfying in this change is my moral sensibilities. I'm not worried about what anyone else will think of me, even when I openly discuss my morals about the matter. I'm not worried about being punished or judged, whether I'm wrong or not. It's more like adjusting my life to no longer include Santa or the Easter Bunny. I have come across some things that I perceive to be true, and as long as I believe them to be true, I should (and will) act appropriately. And as much as it can be hard to do so, I know it's worth it. Becoming a vegetarian, enacting moral beliefs, felt really good; much better than sticking to chicken just because I enjoyed it. I think veganism will be the same.

Most of the reason I'm writing this is to re-affirm it for myself. I'm sure that I'll question my motives several times (making sure I'm not out to be haughty or impress or even just to have a good excuse to eat better), and I'm sure I'll break my whole system of beliefs down several times to make sure the pieces build back up the same. But this is right, I think.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Paean

a joyous exultant song or hymn

~~~~~~~

As I spoke about in class today, I don't see an ethical differences between individual sperm and egg and their combination--the moment of conception, where the individual parts wrap together, begin to multiply, and send the cells on the way to being human. As difficult as it was for me to initially separate myself from the natural sympathy that comes from believing these cells are justifiably living humans (or that their ability to become one has the most weight in the ethical discussion), after serious thinking about what the moral differences truly are, the only one that strikes me as not being arbitrary is the flaring of electricity in the brain.

Conception is an arbitrary moment to pick when turning the cogs back is wrong. I understand the intuitive appeal of the moment--the human genome becomes full, and the process toward being a human noticeably begins, but there is no moral difference between pulling a sperm from the egg when it is half an inch away than pulling the cells created from this combination out a moment later. A line must be drawn, most certainly. But great care and thought must be taken to consider where a line can be drawn non-arbitrarily.

Sentience is a fair indication of something being alive. Though it may not be the only morally necessary condition (I'm still mulling this one over), it is certainly a definitive one. If we could cure diseases by donating sperm, would it not be the imperative of men to do so? I believe it would. As such (and though I fully understand the disquiet encouraged by the matter) it is not wrong to use blastocysts for stem cell research.

Personally, I think one of the problems of this debate might be that we've come to herald the human species as innately more 'alive' or worthy of that life than other things, and cling to the idea of the potential human perhaps as a result of this. The human species has consistently and constantly, since taking the reins of its ability to survive away from nature, sought to separate it from all other forms of life--to claim it holy. I am not arguing that we should not respect or cherish the lives of our fellow humans--just that we have some perspective on the matter, and not resort to arguments about the holy human genome when talking about how we treat the word "life".

We too are comprised of biological materials and must morally (as we have the technology and knowledge that requires such thought) find a non-arbitrary line to draw, and it cannot be drawn as such if we misunderstand what it "means to be human" in the first place. A book could be written on the subject, but at the very least I can say that what it means to be human will surely be less worthy of the importance we have delegated ourselves for millennia.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Predilection

–noun

a tendency to think favorably of something in particular; partiality; preference: a predilection for Bach.

~~~~~~~


I want to write this down so I won't forget it. As duly noted in class (and clearer than I had considered it before) even the sliding scale of sentience does not allot us a moral excuse for the difference in treatment between nonhumans and humans. Even to be generous, as we did in class, I would use dolphins as a 7 (actually that might not be so generous) on a scale from 0-10, 0 being a rock and 10 being an adult human, a 6-year-old child would rank somewhere around 3-5, putting us in a circular dilemma.

To stick to the notion that our cognizance allots us extra rights demands that those rights not be recognized or respected until a human is full-grown, and this is an obvious moral mistake (because we tend to, for good reason, engage our sympathies regarding our own first, and use it as a model). From every direction I have tried, thus far, to ascertain some crucial, determinate reason that nonhumans and humans are inherently different, I have found nothing. We are another, more cognizant, animal. And morally, as I've said several times now, cognizance allots less rights, not more.

What needs to be changed is ideology, I think. But it requires something that people, on a large scale at least, have never been able to do: accept that there are no morally acceptable reasons why you or anyone you love are not animals. Even to accept that, biologically, we are most certainly animals would be a step in the right direction, but that's not enough. Most people accept that premise superficially, at least.

However, to understand it substantially has the ability to immediately infer we are not the center of the universe. However dated those particular words have actually become, they remain a viable element of our species, perhaps from merely the genetic coding that instills in us an instinct that we, as a tribe/species, are separate and distinct, or even learned from the institutions propagating this notion since we could speak, but we must move away from it.

Gaining perspective has been, for me at least, the best way to learn about things more broadly and more deeply than ever before. Look at the picture to the above right, the one of space. Why do we still think we're so important to the nature of everything? That's a rhetorical question of course, books could be filled answering it, but the simple answer is: we're not. It is our preconceptions that have delighted us, deceived us, and harmed us (and anything relevant around us).

We can revel in our strengths while recognizing our weaknesses. We can change our ways once we recognize they are flawed with dignity rather than shame. We can see ourselves as animals on a speck of dust and still build our own, individual, beautiful, influential importance. We can still be important seeing the truth of the universe. Just because it is not as important as we presupposed is no excuse to continue believing otherwise.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Histrionic

–adjective Also, his·tri·on·i·cal.
1.of or pertaining to actors or acting.
2.deliberately affected or self-consciously emotional; overly dramatic, in behavior or speech.
–noun
3.an actor.

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Today's post is about whether or not mosquitoes (representing them as an example for lower-cognitive beings) deserve the same rights as higher-cognitive beings. At first sight it might seem a silly argument, but if the line has to be drawn somewhere, I'd like to know where it is (and if I can justify swatting the critters away).

In other posts I have made arguments for nonhuman biological entities, so I will expound upon those. The main question I ponder is the difference between those entities that are closer to us in the biological spectrum (and in sentience) and something of a relatively small size and sentience. Firstly, I hesitate to judge all things on the power of their intellects. Strong intellectual ability may be our mainstay, but an extra case must be made in order for it to be the scale that decides the rest of biological merit--it reminds me of homo-centrism, and as that has already proven to be an enormous hurdle in trying to objectively define the rights of nonhuman entities, it deserves special attention.

However, that which is morally able is more respectable, in a way, because it too can choose to respect other creatures even when it need not. However, does this allot it more rights? If anything, it allots it (morally) less, so in terms of who deserves the most of our attention, this does not seem an appropriate referent. So is there a line at all?

The situation I imagine is one where a monkey is sitting on a stump on one side of a fence, and a human on a stump on the other side. A mosquito flies over and lands on the shoulder of both, seeking blood. Irritated by the mosquito, both slap their shoulders, effectively ending their limited lifespans.

Is the loss too minor to count in the moral spectrum? Because certainly the human has more of an obligation to ruminate on that which he or she is swatting to death before doing so, when the monkey would not be (usually) naturally (or ably) inclined to do so. As the biological materials that make up all living entities on this planet share much of the same materials, and it is relatively arbitrary to draw lines because of that, we are forced to do so by characteristics--in most cases, the flaring of electricity in the brain, however powerful that brain is, is a fair indication of life. While extremely tiny, mosquitoes have brains.

Because we are larger than insects, and their lifespans and styles are obviously far more temporal than ours, ought we to ignore the moral implications of destroying them, if there would be any at all, as a result of our unified moral theory on how to treat nonhuman (and/or human) entities? Slippery slope or not, what would it be about the life of a mosquito that delegates it the position of unworthy of moral concern?

So far, in my understanding, I have found no reason to ignore the moral implications set by understanding that all living things share a right to life, and that we, as intelligent beings, have extra responsibilities in caring for and not harming that life. As far as I can tell, the lines would be arbitrary--certainly there are far less guilty consciences in the world due to insect destruction than higher sentience animal destruction, but we cannot draw moral lines on how the living thing relates to our own existence, by size, power of sentience or otherwise. More powerful intellectual ability is a poor excuse.

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Now, another related argument could be that for plants. The divide between plants and other forms of life are obviously a much larger divide than between humans and nonhuman animals, but they remain lifeforms that, regardless of sentience, can be positively or negatively affected by our actions. However, perhaps, the moral implications are much less severe (if even existing at all) if only for the lack of brains. However, I am not ready to count them out entirely in the moral game. They are still alive and propagating (if, in most cases, much less intrusively than other mobile species), and may deserve the same respect. Again, however, I am absolutely certain that at every step of this argument I have missed several important facts of note, and that each point is subject to and likely to change.

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Now, expounding upon the "removal" theory from a previous post, another distinction I should make is that I'm not arguing for making ourselves entirely invisible. Obviously, wherever we go, we'll have an effect, whether it's on a planet or an asteroid or anything else. What I argue against is negative influence (on life at the rest least), and as far as I know, it's seemingly impossible for us, having already ascertained the ability needed to win the planet, to continue living on it and not affect the rest of biology negatively. Going elsewhere, where we might not be impeding the right to life and to evolve of biological entities (because there are none, save ourselves), might be more moral. Now, another thought sprang to mind, perhaps just due to my word choice, in that we limit even ourselves, via natural interaction, from some evolving and having certain rights, but that would be another yet similarly crucial argument, I think.

I just wanted to make that distinction because my argument sounded rather misanthropic: as if wherever we go, we have an obligation not to exist--we most certainly have the right to exist, it would just be far more moral if it were in cultivating an otherwise empty planet than continuing to impede our common biological life on this one.

But still, I am restless and wary of this theory. It sounds extraordinary and I do not have extraordinary evidence. I look forward to the information I have missed or neglected, especially regarding lower-sentience lifeforms and plants.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Spurious

–adjective
1.not genuine, authentic, or true; not from the claimed, pretended, or proper source; counterfeit.
2.Biology. (of two or more parts, plants, etc.) having a similar appearance but a different structure.
3.of illegitimate birth; bastard.

I should note that these are coming from dictionary.com. I'm also a big fan of that site's thesaurus sister site.

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In my previous post I explained my opinions on the gift of intellect. I should elaborate somewhat--I don't look down on our having sentience; it is indeed a huge benefit (I should also stop using gift, it implies a giver). However, one of the biggest plagues of our species (as I suppose and think likely would be the case with any species who came to sentience) has been our hubris. Our imagined self-importance, homo-centrism, etc. First we thought we were the purpose of all existence, and as an added bonus, that the Earth was in the center of the universe (where else would it be if it were ours?). The central Earth thing folded, but we continue to play the core concept, to this day, that our species is the purpose of everything in existence. And this has been called a humbling notion.

What prevents most of objective truth (or its reasonable pursuit, at least) from breaking through to mainstream knowledge these days, perhaps, is this imagined importance. If we do not have to seek meaning in our lives, if it is given, then why bother pondering existence endlessly? I am not saying having a purpose or a necessarily inspires lethargy, but it certainly can and does. If morality is a set of standards written in stone (literally or metaphorically), then why bother questioning those infallible tenets, even where they do not seem to result in appropriate action? Inductive reasoning has scarcely produced appropriate correspondences with reality. Our imaginations are too great. We must start from zero, build our importance from the ground up, not the sky down. Else we will forget all that does not stand as tall as us.

Science itself, probably the greatest tool for finding truth we have (through self-corrective measures--even science would back down if it had a better alternative to itself) depends upon a lack of authority. That includes a divine authority (not that divine authority implies incorrect morals; the opposite might be the case). Science works (like democracy should, I think) by having a set of rules and tools that anyone sentient can pick up, formulate opinions, subject to skepticism and arrive to their own conclusion. It assumes nothing.

If we assume everything is made for us, how can we ever become benevolent? Some of today's religions argue contradictory opinions, I think. The Catholic Church especially has some very passionate doctrines on selflessness. I argue that one cannot truly be selfless until one objectively (as possible) recognizes one's place, and acts accordingly. We are one of ten million species on a tiny rock, and are the only ones capable of making all the rules for everything on it.

Here is where I tie back into class (perhaps it seemed it would never come?). Compassion requires a lack of hubris, it is its very nature: to give, especially purposefully (and, ideally, only) for the benefit of something else. The great divide of intellect literally hands us over this planet. If God did exist, he'd be right in saying that we were 'given' this world along with our intellectual ability. And via recognizing this position of ours from the sky down, we have used it as a catalyst to justify our actions in taking, constantly. It seems counterintuitive now; I'm sure it wasn't as clear when sentience was mixing with agriculture to really change things. But building it from the ground up implies a clear directive--we have, at the very least, a responsibility to aid the nonhuman animals as much as ourselves, and, ideally (though it still sounds extreme to me) leaving less intellectual endowed life alone altogether. At this point (and as always, I could be terribly wrong), there occurs to me no selfless alternative. Maybe another time I will talk about whether or not being selfless is necessary.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Elucidate

1. to make lucid or clear; throw light upon; explain

I should have recognized that one by the etymology alone.

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Truth is the correspondence of an assertion or a thought with an existing state of affairs.

As we discussed in class, and as I agree, truth does not exist (without sentience) as a part of the universe. The question of truth only arises with something capable of perceiving the state of affairs incorrectly. As we have imaginations, and do not begin with an inherent understanding of the actual nature of the universe, we must, therefore, use our imaginations, along with skepticism, to arrive at an appropriate intellectual equivalent and comprehension for how the universe actually exists.

Can the same be said about ethics? It is certainly easy to claim that ethics can be specific to every person, and only exist in that manner. In some sense, I think, this is true. Sentient beings alone are capable of discerning benevolence from cruelty, and, as far as we can be consequentially informed, alone are the arbiters for this perception. Certainly, there are natural and societal enforcements on right and wrong, but these, perhaps, are separate things, as a variety of circumstance allows us to imagine situations which might be punished for at one time and not at another, by nature or society. As such, sentience alone recognizes right and wrong, and sentience alone judges it.

So if each person in the world lived alone, with no contact to anything else, would ethics differ so greatly as to claim, like theories such as quantum physics do, that it is impossible to form a coherent and quantifiable predictive theory? I think this is not the case. In almost every culture, murder is an act of cruelty. As it can be complicated by various circumstances, we must delineate, and say that hedonistic murder is incorrect. Murdering for one's own gain or joy. The same can be said about most (if not, all) crimes. If we are doing it for the benefit of ourselves, and it harms another, we are being cruel, and as such, immoral. There is an emphasis, at least currently, in almost every religion on the value of compassion and forgiveness. These are things humanity has, through the course of traceable history, considered of note, of virtue, of particular acclaim. In turn, those things based on hedonism have come to find severely negative connotations and, I argue, for good reason (as these notes alone are not enough to coax an objective understanding of ethics).

While these arguments I have presented are mainly intuitive and generalized, I think it not a stretch to claim that harm of anything for hedonistic purposes is wrong. As such, there must be some system for qualifying and quantifying right and wrong. If there is a standard that can be judged, then there is a theory we can form to describe that which is right and wrong. As such, the philosophy of Ethics has plenty of merits, and could, I think, find (continuously evolving, of course) an objective understanding of Ethics.

Now, in addition to this very broad introduction to what I think about Ethics, I would like to add something based on a quote from class. I am not entirely sure I am quoting correctly.

"We do not need to be good to survive" Dorothy Rowe

As well as affirming some things I've said above, Rowe points out something important. The correlation between survival and ethics is, as we discussed in class, intriguing, as the further one gets from needing to survive, the more ethical responsibilities one has. Ought implies can. But does can imply ought? To the best of my knowledge at the moment, it does.

This is very difficult however, as the further one gets to an objective understanding of the universe, the humbler one is forced to be. That we are one of 10,000,000 species, and yet we literally have a vice hold on the planet. That, by our "gift" of intellect, we have used it not to respect our common biological lifeforms, but to manipulate the entire planet to our purpose. To me, especially lately, this has seemed rather cruel. I know that certainly we did not have the tact or the humble nature to accept this before (closest I've found is the Native Americans), but instead of recognizing ourselves, we first set to making ourselves comfortable. That which many religions claim to be given to us as literally a gift, intellect, is certainly what sets us apart from the rest of the world. But have we used it to develop and appreciate that we are but one of millions of lifeforms to have lived on this planet? Or have we used it to manipulate everything, living or not, to our agendas. As if the gift carried with it an inherent right to dominant. Power or not, is it right to dominate? Like many species would act, I expect, we chose us first.

And while this sounds like a horrible condemnation, I do not intend it to be. There is no reason to expect a species not to care for itself first. It was almost like winning the lottery--you've played the game for so long, are you going to give it all to charity? Or use it to buy the most lovely house? The latter option, is, I think, intuitive, natural. As well, I do not think humanity was necessarily cruel in the way it took over the world until it recognized that intellect, while powerful, was a meager thing to stake domination on (if anything is worth staking domination on). If anything, it seems an evil thing to me, to recognize the close inherent similarities of all living things and then say, "But the world gave me this mind, and I have a right to use it, to do as I please to whatever implication for else that lives." This reeks of our animal instinct, and as intellectual beings, that is not the direction we should be moving in.

We can choose not to be animals anymore, but it comes with a price: ignorance is cheap. If we are to receive this gift of intellect, it seems, we have a responsibility to use it to preserve that which does not have the natural brainpower to overcome the entire world. This is a scary proposition because it identifies ethics as an obligation, but how could it be any other way? It has been posited that all processes of thought are, in a way, searches for truth. While this may or may not be the case, one really has to work to recognize something is wrong, to know it truly, and then do it anyway. This is cruelty. And, for the most part, cruelty goes hand in hand with lethargy. I myself, only recently having become a vegetarian, am full aware that it would likely be more ethical for me to become a vegan, yet lethargy stays me. I struggle with it. It is hard to build a system on a set of notions (Manifest Destiny) and then break them down again. We've already tasted the pleasures of a hedonistic existence.

I have followed this philosophy to the end, and arrived at, should we discover the means of survival to do so, we should literally leave this planet, as our presence here is derogatory to other forms of life. My friends have suggested the caretaker stance, but this too seems cruel. Imagine that god was like how I imagined us to be, were we truly benevolent. Not interfering would probably be the most ethical action. To reach down and pluck Hitler from the Earth, even knowing his devastation, would violate free will. We impede other species by always being #1, by an incredibly large margin. I am divided on whether or not we could pass down information, or whether or not we ourselves could be teachers.

Now, that last paragraph is rather extreme, and has reeked to me of uncertainty since the moment I considered it. All of the aforementioned understandings are ongoing, and, as should be duly noted, not well researched, introspective theories; a prejudice, in a sense, a non-empirically ascertained examination. Though I do a fair amount of research these days, it is difficult to find real evidence for such theories, as they are so incredibly broad. None of these are conclusive.

Derek