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.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
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.
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.
–noun
~~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~
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.
| 1. | of or pertaining to actors or acting. |
| 2. | deliberately affected or self-consciously emotional; overly dramatic, in behavior or speech. |
| 3. | an actor. |
~~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~
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
I should note that these are coming from dictionary.com. I'm also a big fan of that site's thesaurus sister site.
~~~~~~
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.
| 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.
~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~~~
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
I should have recognized that one by the etymology alone.
~~~~~~~~~
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
Monday, September 10, 2007
Inculcate
To implant by repeated statement or admonition; teach persistently and earnestly; to cause or influence (someone) to accept an idea or feeling (usually fol. by with): Socrates inculcated his pupils with the love of truth.
This blog was created on assignment for my Professional Ethics class. As such, it is likely most of my posts will concern ethics. I often have thoughts that do not find their way to vocal fruition in class for a lack of confidence in relevance, but I am scarcely textually intimidated. I tend to write too much and digress. I am trying to teach myself appropriate and comprehensive means of research, having shirked my duties to it in high school. I like learning.
My current research involves modernism, postmodernism, dadaism, surrealism, Buddhism, Hinduism, primitivism, futurism, the Age of Enlightenment, global warming, ethics and animals, ethics and all biological entities, and the nature of humanity. In addition, a persistent hobby of mine during the last two years has been theoretical physics, utilizing a mostly math-exempt approach (superficial, indeed, but I lack the financial resources to pursue a sidelong healthy mathematical career). Along with that, I had a former (and still, slight) interest in the MBTI, and though well-versed in it, am dubious of its veritable application. I am also very interested in rationalism, am engulfed in the works of Carl Sagan, and hold, as one of many philosophies, the (imperfect) application of proper logic and the scientific method. Despite all of these things, I am a film studies major, what can be feebly called a writer, and generally a student.
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