Desuetude

–noun
the state of being no longer used or practiced.

~~~~~~~

Well, all things must end, and thus this blog is finally closing for me. It's spent three semesters getting scratched upon for Professor David Johnson's classes, first Professional Ethics, then Constructing Reality, and finally Nature of Human Nature. I must say my favorite class, as well as my most productive (in thought, not quantity) blogging semester was Constructing Reality, despite working another blog at the same time. My experience in the philosophy department at MCLA has been many times more enriching and rewarding than I expected heading into it, and should I ever write anything of note, the ideas I learned in my philosophy seminars at MCLA will be evident in the text. I am a smarter and more patient person for them.

As I don't particularly like to sprawl my opinions on the internet without a good reason (such as a class), I'm ending this blog for good with this post. I want to thank David Johnson for 5 illuminating classes, and wish you the best of luck in all your future seminars and endeavors. You have helped me understand more than I can explain. Thank you.

-Derek Anderson

Elocution

\el-uh-KYOO-shuhn\, noun:
the art of speaking or reading clearly in public, including gestures, pronunciation, and tones

~~~~~~~

An honest theory of human theory sounds rather like a guide to creative writing—though many guidelines can and should be set down to help one better understand, nearly every rule can be broken. This springs from the peculiar addition of sapience, the ability to reflect on any tenet carved into the stone of humanity and, due to that reflection, change it. So while there are many things we can say are inherent to humans, few of them survive disapproving reflection and conscious action.

When I hear “nature”, I think of something that cannot be changed. The human nature, however, is not such a thing—if I were to cut up my already fractured theory of human nature, I would establish primary and secondary characteristics. Among the primary would be very few things, foremost among them the ability to change as the mind sees fit. I could reason to put needs such as eating and sex in the secondary category, as the individual, though he or she will not last very long, can overcome even these most basic instincts.

Yet still I feel there is much to find that is inherent to all humans—centered primarily in pre-nurture states. I’m still working through it.

Caitiff

\KAY-tif\, noun, adjective:
1. cowardly and mean

~~~~~~~

I haven’t blogged nearly as much as I should have this semester, but there has been no cessation of thoughts for each topic, especially this one, so I’m parsing it as thoroughly as possible right now. I firstly assume that there exists cause and effect, and that while ambiguous as a facet of the physical world (it seems to me an identification of phenomenon, essentially the same as observing “time”—a human definition for something that changes) it is nonetheless wholly evident.

I want to initially slither through the obvious, so as to Lego upward this unusually abstruse debate (is it unusually abstruse? The field’s constructed in such a manner). Full libertarianism strikes me as blatantly false, in that it supposes, on no sufficient grounds, that we are capable of making decisions without antecedents. It ignores that we were born with certain dispositions and needs (the nature vs. nurture debate), and extricates us from the flow of cause and effect by the vessel of consciousness.

Consciousness, however, is a construction, and its foundation is comprised of several mitigating and important materials that we both have little control over and which influence our decisions. The subconscious alone, as a reserve of past trauma, instinct and genetic disposition, is evidence of this—and this is not the only foundation on which our consciousness derives its movements. We cannot be radically free with these extant.

This was further explored in class, where I found myself stumped—bias was mentioned, where antecedent states of mind influenced decisions, and therefore the actions of the afflicted were subject to those antecedents and robbed of true freedom. After all, the basis of morality is that we can act given the proper information to do so. Moral patients are defined by this lack of higher consciousness and reflection—we need to proper information to reflect fully, and without it, we are not truly free. Marx spoke in this way about many things, invoking the illusion of freedom. We may be seemingly conscious agents of free will, but this is undermined and perhaps even stolen entirely by antecedents. Why should we be free from cause and effects?

This is where I stumble on something else I feel is less obvious, but nonetheless profound—that reflection is something cause and effect does not often encounter. In most cases of cause and effect, there exists only the cause, say, a meteor striking the moon, and the effect, a hole and a dust cloud. Neither the meteor nor the moon “predicts, expects” or “reacts” to this occurrences—both are pawns in the movements of an “of-itself” universe (to call it unconscious is anthropocentric).

We, on the other hand, do not seem such willing pawns. Our ability to reflect separates us from the sentient creatures. Especially in lifeforms with lower intelligence, they seem an extension of the universe’s cause and effect. Brought to life by the desire to thrive (still working on that specific cause, scientifically), these organisms are driven by genetic antecedents and desires, and follow them rigorously in nature. While we see exceptions here and there, on the whole, there is no question that animals are at best mildly more autonomous than planets, and much less, it would seem, than humans.

Sapient beings are peculiar in that they can recognize a state of affairs—they can observe the universe as determined. From that, it is theorized they can extrapolate a series of choices, and that in the multitude, the diversity of possible courses of action—one is free. A lack of reflection in mere sentience robs them of this possibility. Reflection on a determinist state of affairs produces more options.

But is the increase in options indicative that we are “freer” than nonhuman animals or rocks, and if so, is that indicative that we are fully “free”? I am sure each polar side of this debate would have their own opinions, but I’m trying to muddle through the middle. I want to reason that we are, by manner of our reflection, freer than sentient animals, but I cannot convince myself entirely.

This is because the antecedent debate extends beyond mere faulty reasoning—such as being raised without enough information to make free choices. To be fully free, I imagine that one must be fully competent—in essence, we need be far more sapient that we are now. And as I’ve encountered with this thought experiment before, higher levels of sapience only prove determinism further, as we need first accept that we and the universe are controlled by cause and effect to have any hope of rounding it. In essence, the only road to freedom leads to acceptance of cause and effect.

Here the paradox is unveiled; I did not understand it in class. Here is where I will attempt to finish what Pojman abandoned, however. I am sure I will fail.

It is certainly the case that though we seem freer than animals or rocks, this is an illusion—our cause and effect is merely extrapolated further, and far complicated by our sapience. All the permutations of this sapience, however, does not round cause and effect. Cause and effect itself proves determinism, however superficially.

However, the rub is not whether or not we and our choices are effects to causes, but whether or not we are the final progenitor of those causes. We are not. However, we play a role—being that there is no machine to predict, being that there is no God to control, and being that there is no evil demon who pulls strings, we alone are observers of ourselves and our actions. We can observe our antecedents and make judgments on their validity in action. This access to observation, the sapience required to enact it, and the reason to employ it are all antecedent causes, and can be drawn back to determinist upbringings. However, without more insightful observers or controlling hands, we are the ones navigating routes.

What I am suggesting is that, in lieu of future selves telling us what we’re going to do, or authentic fortune-tellers who cannot be circumvented, there is a sense of autonomy. There is a sense that we can examine the possible routes of action and decide between them, even if our actions are predictable. Whether or not they are predictable does not rob us of autonomy.

Or does it? Now I’m not sure. Because when I consider an omniscient God, who is infinitely aware of our future actions, it seems to me certain that we have no free will, as it is written into the fabric of reality and known by a conscious being. But when I consider the possibility of a god-like machine that merely predicts behavior being discovered and plumbed, then I feel as if greater access to free will would occur, in that this machine would explicate its predictions and we could then act otherwise.

But if the machine were effective, wouldn’t it, then, be prepared for your change in course based on your reaction to its prediction? In essence, the machine would have to lie to you in order to tell the truth. It would mutate its predictions of the future based on how you will react to the truth of what would have happened had you never encountered it. Only in its telling you of the future would you change your predicted course of action, but if it knew your correct course of action, it would be unable to inform you of it until after the lie is told.

It follows the same logic as the grandfather paradox. There is an inconsistency to full predictability in sapience that cannot be ignored by hard determinists. Knowing our definitive course of action gives us the ability to circumvent it. Does this not suggest that we are free, that sapience, when properly informed (which I’m not suggesting it is), really does have an internal, semi-closed system of cause and effect?

Or ought we merely to call the grandfather or future-teller machine paradoxes logical impossibilities? Even so, it does not diminish the thought experiment or its implications—sapience seems, to whatever end, opposed in some way to determinism, as it can actively reflect and react to a course of events. This is a paradox indeed, as I do not doubt we have many antecedents causes, and that cause and effect is true, and that it can be traced backwards even in sapience. But when sapience butts heads with decisions it is "determined" to make, is not autonomy derived? Perhaps this is only a marginal case and no true denial to determinism, but it feels to me unresolved.

I am not satiated with determinism, but neither am I with libertarianism. Libertarianism strikes me as far more full of falsehoods than determinism, but I cannot rest content to say that sapience and all of its permutations, though constrained by cause and effect, can never be classified as “free”. I say this in the sense that logically, if only under the prescriptions above, true predictions of future behavior are mutually exclusive from sapient reflections of them. The more predictable sapience is, the freer it becomes.

A paradox indeed.

If anyone has further thoughts or answers, please post them, I am impossibly mired.

Malinger

–verb (used without object)
to pretend illness, esp. in order to shirk one's duty, avoid work, etc.

~~~~~~~

6 and final.


It is interesting that Freud was so cynical, though, as his theory, as we discussed in class, makes way for sympathy regarding humans—as in all endeavors, I think, more understanding is the basis for empathy, for the deterioration of judgment, and for mutual benefits. In the example mentioned above—if people were more aware of their inclination to fear the unknown, and where that fear comes from, they might be better able to overcome it. Their understandings of both themselves and the instinctual understandings they’ve already formed could be molded. This kind of self-reflection is key to true ethics and morality, and essential for maturity. It also helps us forgive one another when we act certain ways—trading vindictiveness for understanding.

Psychoanalysis is still important, whether for its modern manifestation (psychology) or even for its proliferated effect (the knowledge of the subconscious). Knowing that something underlies our conscious experience is common sense these days, and allows the individual to explore him or herself much more deeply than has even been possible before. The biggest mass-change from behind Freud to after him is the disbelief in the blank slate—that modern science commonly acknowledges the animality of humans, and everything that comes along with it. While we will still need plenty of talks about how those foundations play a role once the self encounters society, this is the most important place to start—understanding where it comes from.

Harridan

–noun
a scolding, vicious woman; hag; shrew.

~~~~~~~

5.

People we don’t yet understand and knowledge we haven’t yet gained is scarcely reasonable to fear in an intelligent, self-reflecting being, barring due cause (I’m not saying fear nothing—just have a thoughtful reason).

This is the genius that Freud began—tracing humans back to their origins, and finding a new and richer explanation for why they act the way they do. Undoubtedly most of us have felt uneasy around things that were unfamiliar, feared finding something we could not expect, and even, as Freud got correctly, felt strongly drawn to procreate and felt that influence many, many of our decisions (even if it’s wrapped up and inseparable from the need for love as well).

What I think Freud missed was the natural disposition more important—the need for security. The need for physical security is usually solved, but the need for emotional security is usually a very leaky pipe, and the solution for most of us is little more than scotch tape. We are all volatile bundles of both subconscious and conscious insecurity, often blanketed more than enough to allow the individual to function, but far from fulfilled.

Which is why, I think, many feel a sense of completeness in finding true love—the sharing of insecurity, the vulnerability, the altruism, the uncompromising compassion—these things amalgamate to solve, or at least, persistently and richly stave that leak. This is why the idea of Freud’s pansexuality is complicated—because security is juxtaposed with and among the need to procreate—for many conscious beings (humans, of course, perhaps other conscious beings would not do the same), love and sex are very closely related, as is relationship and child. The divide between love, procreation, personal security and natural inclination is small in modern society. Freud was wrong, in many cases, to draw behavior back to natural sexual disposition, but in many ways, I understand why he went wrong.

Vexillology

n
Definition: the study of flags

~~~~~~~

4.

In all animals sentient, there are two types of security necessary for survival: physical security, which is founded on healthy physiology and an ensconcing environment (or the facets necessary to navigate a harmful one); and mental/emotional security, which, through a combination of chemicals, programmed emotional benefits for performing activities that aid a creature’s survival and punishments for dangerous behavior (pleasure and pain), and the emotional responses incumbent in fear, stability, affection and loyalty, aid the creature in achieving a paragon model of survival. Survival is at the core of every creature including humans, and though our conscious minds have progressed beyond this simple model, we remain inextricably bound to it.

In animals, many of these instincts and functions work as they should: animals fear encountering unknown entities, fear night-time (unless they’re nocturnal) and many creatures maintain unchanging patterns that ensure survival. I see several correlations in humans: it is a natural inclination to fear the unknown, but why? It is not as if our conscious mind has derived, since birth, that the unknown always or even often leads to danger or tragedy—in fact, in many cases what we find is either benign or enriching to our experiences. Often times cultures will bond together and become wary when infiltrated by new people with different cultures and values—is this because the new cultures and ways of thinking are, indeed, dangerous to the individual or the community? Or is it possible that some part of this inclination is naturally derived?

I am suggested here, as an example, that our fear of the unknown, and of those whose traditions and manners differ from us is a legacy of survival programming. In the days when we were far less conscious and more animalistic, it is only reasonable that we would find (being creatures that are neither the biggest nor the strongest) a natural inclination toward fear of the unknown—to callous a traveler and too incautious an explorer would surely find him or herself dead. The conscious mind has developed much since then, but that programming—that association that the subconscious makes between the unknown and danger—is what causes our fear, not the actual unknown itself.

Insensate

–adjective
1. not endowed with sensation; inanimate: insensate stone.
2. without human feeling or sensitivity; cold; cruel; brutal.
3. without sense, understanding, or judgment; foolish.

~~~~~~~

3.

I have been working on a blog post for over a week now, and it is about time I started posting it--as each section feels completed I'll throw it up here. All of them follow one thought, I'll number them.

~~~~~~~

Freud was a brilliant man, and he hit the subconscious on the nose. Pinpointing our vigorous natural inclinations and tracking them retrograde; and patiently pursuing misunderstood actions back to these referents opens up not only a world of sympathy and understanding for each individual, but a path to better self-control and happiness. It is a pity he was unwilling to accept the contradictions of his peers and apprentices, who noticed his unusual and unnecessary emphasis on sexual origin, as until sex became a pervasive element of his theory, his findings were genius.

And they are genius—even though he miscalculated the line of reason where sex is concerned, I do not personally doubt that sex, lust and the emotional context it maintains is among the chief determinants of natural behavior. What I believe sits atop the pyramid, and what I mentioned as one of Freud’s mistakes, however, is the ideal of security.

Cavil

–verb (used without object)
1. to raise irritating and trivial objections; find fault with unnecessarily (usually fol. by at or about): He finds something to cavil at in everything I say.
–verb (used with object)
2. to oppose by inconsequential, frivolous, or sham objections: to cavil each item of a proposed agenda.
–noun
3. a trivial and annoying objection.
4. the raising of such objections.

~~~~~~~

2.

Procreation propels a species, not an individual (as a necessity—though plenty can be said about the benefits of having children). Our conscious definition of sex is muddled, though, very quickly bleeding into erstwhile seas: emotional security, affection, attrition, lust and, of course, childbearing itself.

While the first two (hunger, safety) are tended to with deliberation—satiated quickly, and only occasionally crossing into other experience—the third, for a sapient individual, is a mountain of implication.

In the above paragraphs I have noted, but left, one of what I believe to be Freud’s mistakes, and I’ll elaborate on it later.

I think Freud, having found this nucleus of human experience, sought to discover how prolific the sexual branch was in behavior. It took brilliance to hash out things that are now common sense—defining emotions differently from how their bearers understand them, finding root causes hidden even from the self—he discovered a place derived from our animalistic selves, a place not only in limited communication with the conscious mind, but further still serving as its Atlas. His ideas were occasionally fantastical (the stages of sexual development, the distinct trinity of the mind), but his discovery of the subconscious, and the lightning rod of sexual inclination (a rod which later psychologists replaced with other natural inclinations) were vital discoveries.

Temerarious

–adjective
reckless; rash.

~~~~~~~

1.

I wonder what Sigmund Freud’s thought process entailed, uncovering and gradually coming to know the unconscious. I imagine it not far departed from our classroom discussions, where we allotted credence, at least in part, to the notion that humans have natural, genetic programming that affects behavior. As history has mostly subscribed to the mentioned “blank slate” theory, this theory must have been more cumbersome to maintain for Freud than our 21st century classroom, already dramatically influenced by his theories.

However, it is only a natural step, I think, to first believe in predisposition, and then determine its scientific roots. Freud was a realist—he wasn’t prepared to accept anything but what reason and experience would show him (although his extrapolated conclusions step outside the bounds of logic, I think). Without any social encouragement, there are only a small number of facets natural to humans that could be reasonably derived: safety, nourishment, and procreation (there are probably others, I’m being general).

Immediately the last stands out to me, as perhaps it did to Freud—the first two are natural prerogatives, necessary to sustain the individual and impossible to overcome—constant danger or malnourishment ends the individual. The third, however, is peculiar—as it serves the same preservative function, but is the only one not designated for the good of the self.

Lucubration

\loo-kyoo-BRAY-shun; loo-kuh-\, noun:
1. The act of studying by candlelight; nocturnal study; meditation.
2. That which is composed by night; that which is produced by meditation in retirement; hence (loosely) any literary composition.

~~~~~~~

Liberal policies have the stigma of higher taxes—but, if properly managed, this can be a good thing. I certainly feel distaste every time I receive my income check and notice a portion of it missing, but this is only a gut reaction, one deserving of more investigation. That money goes to ensuring my house will be put out if caught on fire, I’ll be protected and aided if there is a break-in, I will be able to attend my current state school because of lower prices. These things do not strike me as immediately when I see I am missing 60 dollars, but the thought incumbent makes it feel a lot more reasonable.

The problem here is government hate, where each person, fearful of our assuredly corrupt government, seeks to lessen the amount of government intervention, and of accompanying government budget, in every aspect of their lives. Less taxes=less abuse of personal funds for needless social services.

And yet if these social programs were handled correctly, in a manner that agrees with the community, no one would complain. The problem here is partly a corruption of government, and partly of social lethargy. It is our own lethargy that keeps government out of our hands: our action would establish a communication between government and the people that would make paying our taxes less of a burden and more of a payment toward things that we both want and need.

But of course this is not the entire problem, as the vast diversity of opinion lends to this frustration—we’ve all felt the familiar sigh accompanying being unable to please everybody. But at least on the most important issues, a little more thought could produce some great social services--especially in education and health. Our inaction is fueled by frustration, but ultimately our frustration will fuel change. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay ahead of the game and start instituting beneficial changes in social services before the angry populous need rise up and demand it.

Bivouac

\BIV-wak, BIV-uh-wak\, noun:
1. An encampment for the night, usually under little or no shelter.

~~~~~~~

Perhaps the bailout is a sign of things to come—hopefully not in this form, as the plan itself is foolish and rushed—but the nationalization of both the benefits and the risks of multinational and incredibly powerful corporations. This seeming social parachute for greed need be both an act of rescue (as certainly we would all pay for these companies’ failures), and a reflection on current laws—the companies should not have been allowed to get this big and endanger us all. As we allowed them to get in this situation, we must re-evaluate the circumstances that led to it, and llow it never to happen again.

Perhaps in the future we will see more of these sorts of socializations, and I’m not sure if it is for better or worse. Including these usual opponents of the middle class into its budget seems grossly unfair, as the budget of the middle class almost never benefits from this salvation and foundation. We deserve an even return—and to do that, I think, the free market needs more of a watchful eye, not less. Capitalism demands, inevitably, a marginalization of wealth, but that wealth is also definitively linked to the economic well being of the classes it stands upon. Thus, if they fail, we fail, but if we struggle, they win. This is not a good model, and it confuses me that so many Americans still prescribe to a naïve notion of “fairness” in a free market economy, as it inevitably shortchanges them.

Execrable

\EK-sih-kruh-buhl\, adjective:
1. Deserving to be execrated; detestable; abominable.
2. Extremely bad; of very poor quality; very inferior.

~~~~~~~

Written during our last class:

I see progress--however, minimal, it seems to me that history can be tracked as a social and realist evolution. Progressing in stages with Cambrian Explosions here and there, we cannot ignore the difference between our compassion-idealizing, fairness (at least in spirit)-emphasizing ideologies, nor our current predilection for democratic representation and social structure. Compared to the state of things thousands of years ago—were there was almost no emphasis or concern for the individual, a string of monarchies that appeased or controlled rather than respected its people, and a rampant misunderstanding of the universe and common superstition, it seems to me clear that even minimally, maturity of the mind, compassion and community has occurred. Not only that, but we might extrapolate for its past direction a future one.

This movement proves how stubborn we are to change, but in my opinion inspires nothing but hope—as, while lethargic, entire communities can move toward mutually beneficial structures, and billions of minds can, in mean consideration, average out to more mature and correct understandings, even if those understandings depend on a more vigorous few.

It is not merely an increase of people causing this evolution—I think that with enough time and juxtaposition to other humans, the maturity is inevitable. In diversity we find collective betterment of social, emotional and intellectual needs, just as diversity aids in evolution. Evolution does not work the same in both fields, but corollaries can be found. I need look into more evidence for this seeming progress—its cause especially, so that I’m not overlooking negative progress to undermine or contradict the positive—but it seems to me, for all our equally disturbing vices, the changes in society, realism and which virtues receive emphasis that we have, across history, been moving in broadly the right direction. But maybe I’m just appreciating the world since modern science, and how it differs from almost everything before it.

Malfeasance

\mal-FEE-zuhn(t)s\, noun:
Wrongdoing, misconduct, or misbehavior, especially by a public official.

~~~~~~~

Most of our most grand and correct ideas about the meaning of life are not eventuating or thousands of years away, but among our entire history, relatively unchanging. Love, curiosity and creation (there may and probably are others, but these stick out). They form the foundation of everything, and always have. The road to truth or great creation is not graduating toward some singular end, but rather, a road where every step is, itself, a destination. So too is the meaning of life—not some vast and incredible truth hiding beneath a massive shroud and being chipped away at by the great minds across centuries, but relatively simplistic ideas, some of which are so commonsensical that they are cliché.

To answer truth in terms of a singular thesis describing everything is to mistake the human question. Our pursuits in love, truth and creation are not ones of eventual destinations, but of roads. Should we ever reach the end of those roads, we will find ourselves displaced, bored, and without meaning. Instead, meaning is, so often, the search for it—the search for love and improvement and knowledge. It is intuitive, but incorrect, to think of knowledge as the light at the end of a tunnel. There is no grand thesis, and if there were, we wouldn’t be very much motivated to learn anything ever again.

It is the mild anxiety of not knowing (the class-mentioned cognitive dissonance) that motivates us to know—and I suspect the wisest people in history have turned that feeling away from anxiety, and indulged it, instead, as curiosity. Humans are not naturally disposed, I think, toward this sort of step-by-step acceptance, instead preferring a comfortable tier on which to rest. Continually climbing the stairs, however (I’m just insatiable with these metaphors today, I guess), I find to be a much more rewarding endeavor.

Implacable

\im-PLAK-uh-bull\, adjective:
Not placable; not to be appeased; incapable of being pacified; inexorable; as, an implacable foe.

~~~~~~~

All humans are, by nature, self-reflecting. Some are far more than others, and some do so only minutely, but I think there are few who would claim it not a part of human nature to not merely experience life, but consider it—however deeply or shallow. This trait, however, undermines all of the others—cooperative natures can be convinced to be competitive, selfish ones to be compassionate—and leaves us with a seemingly muddled idea of human nature.

While it may seem that way, I am inclined to believe otherwise, and will post later in the week more in-depth on the matter. However, the point that I want to make now is an optimistic one—that no matter what our natures can be sensibly defined to be, it is impossible to lose hope in humanity, as I think it impossible that self-reflection is not a part of that nature. Whatever positive or negatives natures we have (and this seems almost contradictory to the idea of finding a “nature” in the first place), we can change, we can learn better, and we can act better.

Thus, the reflective nature of human nature may be the only relevant, or at least the most important, part of our natures.

Officious

\uh-FISH-uhs\, adjective:
Marked by excessive eagerness in offering services or advice where they are neither requested nor needed; meddlesome.

~~~~~~~

Perhaps some of the difficulty in pinning down human nature is sapience—thoughtful self-reflection. Having the capacity to examine ourselves and our actions and make judgments about whether or not to change in many ways undermine what we normally think of as nature.

To me, at least, nature seems often a static thing—an internal referent that, when mentioned, explains the manners and predilections of an individual or thing. When we talk about nature on Earth, it is often my inclination to think of the overarching collection of flora and fauna that compose the planet, and to think of this, while being interactive, as a fairly static thing. This inclination is wrong, however—even things like trees and animals change as the eons go on, and their inherent traits mutate.

And this regards things that do not reflect. However, noticing this apparent difficulty is not enough to rob the word nature of any sensible explanation—certainly there are still vast commonalities among humans that we can reference as being inherent, or natural to human beings.

I suppose in my rambling discourse here I am merely musing about the peculiar hurdle in defining human nature—whether we say humans are cooperative, compassionate, selfish, foolish, political—most of the traits that we can claim inherent are, by another valuable piece of human nature, capable of being overrun. And that ability is self-reflection.

Continued later.

Verbiage

\VUR-bee-ij\, noun:
1. An overabundance of words; wordiness.
2. Manner or style of expression; diction.

~~~~~~~

Our lengthy discussion in class was an astute one, I think—examining Aristotle’s literature and language, it was noted by several students that the subjective connotations of the word “happy” fell in direct contradiction to claims that one could be deluded, and therefore not be experiencing true happiness. It was quickly understood that, should this be true, it would be extremely difficult to know whether or not one was happy, sad, angry, etc.

The problem, perhaps, is the word happy. In the example mentioned, a woman could live her entire life believing herself to be happy, but experiencing a delusion (Matrix?). Would it be fair, then, to say that she was not actually happy, and that after learning of her delusion, would believe herself never to have been happy?

The example Johnson gave in class is one I’ve heard before, and wrote down as an example—if one is experiencing a toothache, then there is no person better qualified to make that assessment. One can speak of the toothache’s origin, one can even say that the toothache is entirely a mental delusion, but this does not change the subjective impression of a toothache.

I think happiness is the same way. The women, being unable to recognize her delusion, experiences the mental, psychological and emotional effects of happiness. Though her directives are skewed and her life a sham, she still experiences happiness. This is the point that everyone is class was quick to jump on, and sensibly so.

The problem is the word—we most commonly associate it with the mood, rather than the lesser used (but in my opinion, still valid) definition as a state of satisfaction or fulfillment. Surely neither the woman nor we would deny that in fact she was bereft of a consciously fulfilled life, and upon learning of her delusion is forced to change her understanding, and now see her life as a sham. Her happiness, however, is a subjective reaction to her belief in a fulfilled life, and is not necessarily changed by revelation.

Marx seemed to advocate this view when he spoke of (at least some) housewives not having conscious happiness—instead of denying their subjective impression of happiness, he is denying their fulfillment as people, and the validity of their satisfaction. None of us would deny, then, that if happiness is defined as a mood, it cannot be contradicted by an outside authority, but neither should we agree that one’s satisfaction cannot be an objective truth.

There are subjective truths in the world, and something like a mood or a toothache are good examples of this. We need be wary, however, of stretching that medium too far—as it seems to me that there are far more objective truths that will have great bearing on human nature (such as one’s fulfillment and personal, conscious, autonomous satisfaction) that exist, and that these, on the whole, will set the stage for true insight into the matters at hand.

Panache

\puh-NASH; -NAHSH\, noun:
1. Dash or flamboyance in manner or style.
2. A plume or bunch of feathers, esp. such a bunch worn on the helmet; any military plume, or ornamental group of feathers.

~~~~~~~

Look up more.

http://www.xkcd.com/482/

Edify

\ED-uh-fy\, transitive verb:
To instruct and improve, especially in moral and religious knowledge; to teach.

~~~~~~~

A small note from class—it is no secret that many government officials are not true representatives. They are elected on at least the ideal principle that they will provide representation in the government for the opinions of those who elected them. What often happens, and to no current reprimand, is nearly all elected officials arrive in government and are immediately influenced, paid for and essentially bribed by corporate interests. What was, in ideal, a representative for the people becomes a representative for monetary interests.

This comes to light especially in the rushed bail out plan of our current treasurer, which thankfully fell flat on its face. As it was discussed in class, and as I agree, the government needs to intervene when it comes to an enormous threat to the economy—we cannot tolerate another great depression. However, neither can it fix these massive economic problems with haste. So why try?

The treasurer is supposed to be a representative of our collective interests, not his own or that of his companions. His impartiality in fixing economic disasters such as this one is crucial—one cannot wait until disaster looms for personal interests, as these decisions affect us all. Rather than trying to fix Wall Street as a whole, it seems the makeshift bail-out plan was for a cause the treasurer is not designed to represent—and such bias could cause our country disaster if left unchecked. It is this kind of monetary, rather than representative, interest that seems of vital danger to the nation as a whole.

Beneficence

\buh-NEFF-i-suhns\, noun:
1. The practice of doing good; active goodness, kindness, or charity.
2. A charitable gift or act.

~~~~~~~

“No wise person would ever do evil voluntarily.”

The paragraph preceding this statement, as mentioned in chapter 2, entails Socrates’ beliefs on the necessity of self-knowledge. It is difficult, he says, no only to have a full life, but to act respectfully, morally and ethically without self-knowledge.

I think his thoughts on ethics are correct. While other discussions can be had about what really makes a happy life (and if the intellectually life would be happy for all), exploring morality suggest to me that investigation is an absolute and persistent necessity for it to function.

First of all, I must construct a platform—ethics is a self-governed set of principles concerning interaction and the self. Whether or not God exists is irrelevant, as his enforcements and punishments are impossible to perceive in the natural world—in other words, even if he’s the one setting all the rules, we’re the ones choosing to follow, needing to explore and figuring out them. With or without God, we personally experience moral dilemmas, determine what hurts and harms, and act (or do not act) accordingly. If at the end of the day we believe in an absolute moral principle set by a higher authority, we have still delineated the details of that authority in much the same manner (provided we are all thoughtful) as a secular ethicist.

With that out of the way, I agree with Socrates that to construct an active, viable and compassionate morality, we must give thought to discover what helps and what harms. We must know what effect our actions have on others, and search inside ourselves unflinchingly to ensure we know why we act as we do. A strong sense of self-identity will allow conviction in times of moral indecision.

So in his statement, Socrates is not merely saying that an intelligent person would do no harm, but that to be an intelligent person, one must have a strong sense of self, and a similarly strong sense of morality. Wisdom entails a sort of moral exploration—it is departed from mere knowledge, and instead rings of a fuller intelligence, a thoughtful parsing of both natural details and human interaction—thoughtful both in observation and in compassion. If the word were knowledge or intelligence, I would say its colloquial term cannot be stretched, but I think the word wise still rings true in this manner.

Hebetude

–noun
the state of being dull; lethargy.

~~~~~~~

Our discussions in class today were centered around Christianity and Jesus’ message. A lot of the dialogue helped to prune images of the Bible as a constant message (which few of us seemed to believe), and iron out Christian ideals. Throughout the entire discussion, though, and perhaps because it would have shifted focus too drastically, never once was the possibility of God’s nonexistence brought to the table.

Our discussion assumed that God existed. In the course of the Q&A, this was not necessary, as the question regarding Christian ethics/Jesus’ message and how they were applied to modern Christian. However, I feel it an absolutely necessary topic of discussion not only for the issues presented in class, but for human nature. Most certainly, our natures would vary incredibly with or without the hand of God.

We all seemed in relative agreement that at least occasionally the Bible was not an authoritative source of truth. Objections were levied as to who wrote the book, how we can trust the accuracy of such an old document, and the many places in which it contradicts itself. But on a larger level, what proof do we have beyond this document (as we’ve already questions the supposed proofs within it) to believe there is a God?

Indeed, a critical or scientific analysis of the world reveals no proof or need for a God. Many places that God was thought to be and many things he was thought to control have been explained through a rational lens. It would seem, in no uncertain terms, that the advancement of rational thinking has produced less and less proofs for God.

While I will probably at some point individually parse them, the ideas of Hell, micromanagement, miracles, supernatural phenomenon, personal revelation and natural proofs for God all fall flat under rational scrutiny. The only place left for God is to be the cause behind the effect of the universe—in other words, the hand that sprung the Big Bang. And even in this instance, though it is certain that there was a cause for that effect, it is not clear or reasonable to assume that that effect was God.

Some might question the veracity of a scientific way of thinking—in fact, this is probably the most common complaint against such clear evidence. But as I suspect (and hope) we will discuss in class, there seems no train of thought more suited to the endeavor of truth. For us to place our trust in faith, we are allowing truth to devolve into something wholly dependent on personal interpretation, a lack of conclusive evidence, and the imagination. It seems to me that truth emerges from demanding of oneself a reason to believe, and that a lack thereof is not virtue.

To round this up, I think instead of discussing details about the Bible, it would be more conducive to question the whole thing, and while we’re at it, the existence of God.

I am already suspecting, however, that there will be no small divergence of opinion. This is my eighth philosophy seminar at MCLA, and I don’t think I’ve ever encountered one like ours before.

Evanescent

ev-uh-NES-unt, adjective
Liable to vanish or pass away like vapor; fleeting.

~~~~~~~

I often wonder why so many people I meet are attracted to or in many cases fully immersed in the idea that all of knowledge is subjective, that seeking truth is futile, and that those who claim to have it are pretentious and wrong. At first I thought it merely intellectual lethargy, but I think it goes deeper.

As explained in the previous post, it is easy to make the leap from a diversity of stupid opinions (our world is full of them, else we would not be arguing so often) to a doubtfulness about the existence of truth. It might even seem that humans on average are incapable of grasping some of the universe's greater truths, and in some respect, they are. I do not hesitate to claim we are at a very low tier in the wealth of potential knowledge--examining the bounds beyond the Earth alone can humble one into silence and even despondency.

But to me, the wealth of unknown is no criteria for forgoing explanation of it. If anything, the amount left to be known in the universe is exciting--imagine how boring the universe (and our intellectual lives) would be if there was nothing left to find. Similarly, I would be a very despondent person myself if I didn't believe that there is WAY more objective truth existing in the world than subjective truths that really do depend on the observer.

I suppose my conclusion is that the advances of science and even merely curious minds have produced startling correct observations about humans and the universe in the very short time humans have been on this planet, and researching (if only on wikipedia!) this information is a great boon to confidence about human potential and human reason in general. Reading many of the blogs, it seems to me a general infection of doubtfulness proliferates--I felt exactly the same when approaching philosophy, and occasionally, I feel the same now. But I hope very much that this mindset will not remain by the end of the course, or else we are in for 15 weeks of people shrugging and defending prefabricated points of view.

Not that I will be innocent of the same for the course of the semester (I have already occasionally noticed instinctual, rather than reasonable defense), but I too will strive for an open mind, and retain my understanding that truth does exist, and that we'll be able to find it even in the ludicrously wide bounds of human nature.

Subjectivism

–noun

1. Epistemology. the doctrine that all knowledge is limited to experiences by the self, and that transcendent knowledge is impossible.

(Ethical half of dictionary.com's definition of subjectivism excluding for irrelevance.)

~~~~~~~

The world is organized in a certain way. One’s initial inclination, in many cases, is to deny such a premise—the incredible perplexity of the world paired with a great diversity of opinion creates a sense of dubiousness about the human ability to reason. I know in my own experiences that frustration seizes the forefront when treading the wide range of possible explanations for any given phenomena. But does this impression rob us of the ability to find truth? And if so, in what areas?

Firstly, we can begin with an easy one, the natural world. Remember the desk (Sink counter? Ledge? I don’t know, whatever that thing is, you know what I’m talking about) Professor Johnson stands behind during class? There is little doubt to be had about its existence. We all see it, we can all mutually agree on its presence even if our perception of it varies (and variations will be minor—we aren’t doing anything but identifying its existence), and we can generally agree, as it exists among us and we can perform tests to ensure this, that it exists.

Is it so much of a jump to apply such a method to the natural world? It is obvious what I’m getting at now, the rub is science. While the word has a vast assortment of connotations by now, critical analysis (which here implies consideration for evidence, a recognition and discard of unsupported intuitions and careful consideration for facets) has perhaps less. When we perceive something in the natural world, we can first determine its existence, then its function, relation and components as part of our investigative analysis. I find it almost impossible to deny that there are a wide range of truths discovered and confirmed through this demanding critical analysis.

I am suggesting that science and its component of critical analysis acknowledges the ridiculously broad range of opinions in the world, and across centuries has bettered itself in the interest of finding the truth—by determining a set of criteria (evidence, testing, reason) that can whittle down the false. We all know an idiotic opinion when we hear one, and we can train ourselves to recognize even more.

This is no esoteric endeavor, either, as we are all imbued with such a tendency For example: you hear someone has transferred to another school from a person who is not always informed. You are initial skeptical due to this person’s dubious information, and then later, you see the aforementioned person in the quad. You hypothesize intuitively that they have not transferred, and by then asking them, and being told this is not the case, have confirmed your hypothesis as truth.

Blah blah blah, I am still not feeling that I am sufficiently clear. True, the natural world is an appealing target for this scientific approach, but what about the subjects we were discussing in class, the reason I am prattling in the first place? Instead of going with my natural inclination right now and listing what I think, I am only going to suggest that during the class, we try and transpose the access to truths that critical/scientific thinking provides about the natural world onto the subjects at hand.

We may very well find, as scientists did when trying to unearth the natural world, that the diversity of opinion is inevitable, but is incapable of rendering truth subjective. Is it so hard to believe, considering that so many things in the universe can be whittled down to one accurate fact, that the same can be found among more contentious topics? Certainly the mutating aspect of human nature will play a role, but I have never found a question rendered impossible to resolve by too many false answers, only questions that have yet to receive a correct answer. Without critical analysis, the shrug and the “who can say” approach will get tedious quickly. I look forward to seeing what truths (whatever they are) we can derive.

And I apologize to anyone I interrupted in class. It is an unfortunate tendency of mine and I hope I did not offend; my eagerness precedes me too often.

Brummagem

\BRUHM-uh-juhm\, adjective:

Cheap and showy, tawdry; also, spurious, counterfeit.

~~~~~~~

It's almost time to dust off the journal and start anew, this time exploring the nature of human nature. As humans are a part of nature, is their nature natural or exceeding the natural, as its portents explicate the species as a whole? Surely what drives our actions is a derivation of natural instincts amalgamated with culture and sapience, but it may very well be that human nature as it pertains to the entire species is too broad a classification to warrant conclusive analysis. Pari passu these concerns, human nature itself shifts and ebbs with the flow of time, but perhaps there is also a persistent core, a set of facets that one can definitively classify as human nature, and I suspect this will be the focus of the course.

Looking forward to what part of the aforementioned is foolish being proved wrong.

--Derek

Halcyon

\HAL-see-uhn\, noun:
1. A kingfisher.
2. A mythical bird, identified with the kingfisher, that was fabled to nest at sea about the time of the winter solstice and to calm the waves during incubation.

adjective:
1. Calm; quiet; peaceful; undisturbed; happy; as, "deep, halcyon repose."
2. Marked by peace and prosperity; as, "halcyon years."

~~~~~~~

Part III of III

This experiment is not constructed to show how little Descartes could get from spray painting his apple barrel “infallible apples” and tossing all the fallible ones out, it is constructed to cause sympathy for a creature capable only of thinking to itself for an eternity. To be so alone, suspending judgment not for humility of knowledge, but for want of and inability to access it, is a tragedy worthy of plays. This experiment proves how lucky we are even to have fallible tools.

The cogito would scoff, however, if it were given tools bound to mislead, as many skeptics would suggest they do. We cannot accept a toolbox full of instruments ill-suited to our task. In this case, despite, I hold no doubt whatsoever that the cogito would leap (metaphor) wholeheartedly at the chance to play with tools that might show it anything at all outside itself, even with the hefty provision that it will be subject to constant and likely failure to ascertain the truth. This lot—the cogito’s acceptance of sensory input despite severe consequences for truth, is very much worse than our actual state of affairs.

We have a fallible interface. What is filtered through the senses must be processed by the mind, which even from birth is prefigured to accept information in a responsive way—and without reflection, those responses will harm our access to knowledge. Throughout our lives we construct vast networks of semiologies to accompany natural responses, further detaching ourselves from possible, sober, objective truths. The combination of the senses and the mind, without training and the invocation of reason will inevitably produce conclusions far off the mark of knowledge.

Yet the cogito will accept the proposal of the senses. It is a clever creature, and it knows a bargain when it can see one—it hastily deduces from these provisions that even with the enormous amount of blundering that could occur from perception to knowledge, knowledge is possible. It knows this because it has spent its pathetic life both imagining and doubting—and its own separation from the truth rests with input. In fact, its tragedy is not in the lack of infallible truths, but in the lack of input. Like a blooming flower, it soars from the boredom of its abject (albeit infallible-truth populated) existence, in courage, with fearful but definite excitement, into a realm of fallible perception.

This is where we find ourselves. As much as we would like to deduce the eternal truths of the universe by criterions and introspection alone, it is incredibly impossible. Our brains are powerful enough both to imagine worlds that do not exist, and destroy reflections of ones that do. The newly-perceptive cogito does not enter the world a credulous thing (albeit overwhelmingly enraptured), but neither does it enter the world subject to solipsistic doubt—not only to preserve this new and wonderful world as an existing entity, but because all of its new senses suggest that it has no sensible reason to doubt some kind of objective reality, and much more. Given input, its tragedy becomes fuel for curiosity, and the real pursuit of knowledge begins.

We ought not reflect or depend on floating cogitos to save our ability to know. We ought reflect on them to cherish our ability to sense in the first place—and while we may (and should) be dubious of the correctness of what these senses tell us, self-reflection (as the cogito well knows) is the key to seeking knowledge. Our friend the cogito becomes a master of its newly formed senses, analyzing each one carefully and the many ways in which they can go wrong. Where there is reason to doubt, it does, and where not, it enjoys the comfort of reason paired with input—which can, with fallible humility, discover knowledge enough to fill planets with barrels exempt from Descartes stamp of approval. Input is as much as gift as reason.

Fustian

\FUHS-chuhn\, noun:
1. A kind of coarse twilled cotton or cotton and linen stuff, including corduroy, velveteen, etc.
2. An inflated style of writing or speech; pompous or pretentious language.

~~~~~~~

Part II of III

Decades later, as seconds seem infinite in the void, the creature begins to notice time passing, in the form of thoughts that occurred before the present moment, and thoughts (of whatever content) that will likely occur after the present moment. It is here that the creature makes a home run, the clever thing that it is—it deduces from the existence of change within its own mind the concept of time, though here only used as an organizing function to separate the current thoughts from the past thoughts.

Now with some concept of time, as established by the passage of thoughts through its consciousness, the cogito has any number of ways to establish the next conclusion. For the sake of argument, we will narrow it down—it notices the distinctness of “then” and “now” as different entities. It seeks to streamline its mind when thinking of thoughts that occurred in both arenas, and therefore constructs a referent for when a thought has occurred in both categories. It calls this the number 2—entailing that this particular thought was found in both the 1. past and the 2. present. It has an epiphany, and realizes this referent can be used elsewhere…in many places…everywhere!

Soon enough the cogito is doing small calculations and deducing mathematical formulas. Its self-esteem is rising like a hot air balloon—I must be the smartest cogito in the universe, it thinks. But wait, it wonders…I am me. Could there be more of me? Even less certain, could there be more like me?

The cogito rests on this notion for millennia, and makes no headway. Back to eternal truths, it thinks, I will find no proof or even evidence to support my extra-me cogitos. It gets lonely. It wishes it had someone to talk to.

One night (here defined as when the cogito sleeps—body or not, it needs rest), it has a very odd dream, where it is being spoken to in a very wise thought that informs it of supernatural existence, that it is not alone. It awakens and quickly realizes it was a dream, having had them (but dissimilar ones) before. However, the ideas has infiltrated—who and what was this thought, and how could it have come from nowhere?

It tries to deduce the existence of a cogito far smarter than it, with knowledge it has absolutely no access to, and yet will speak to it and solve the greatest of mysteries. Comforting, this notion is. Yet try as it might, it can produce no evidence for believing the contents of its dream entail existence—surely, this dream cogito’s manner was odd and seemingly foreign, but on rumination the floating cogito realizes this portrait is what its imagination has been conjuring for weeks as a cure for loneliness, and many of the things it said reflected its own insecurities. This is a rather elaborate example, but the bottom line is that the cogito, the diligent creature it is, must reject the superior cogito on the grounds that imagination does not suffice.

Yet if it loses imagination as evidence, it thinks, it will have lost any further stepping stones to knowledge. If it has been taught one thing, hanging in the metaphorical darkness, it is that infallible knowledge is hard to come by, and imagination, paired with logic, is the culmination and extent of its capabilities. Simple cases like the existing self, time and math (the latter two conjoined) are provable by thought alone—but beyond that, imagination is only a safari through a pitch black wilderness at night, revealing nothing, hope it might. Depressed, our cogito friend floats on, wishing for a friend, and knowing it will never know one.

Amalgam

\uh-MAL-guhm\, noun:
1. An alloy of mercury with another metal or metals; used especially (with silver) as a dental filling.
2. A mixture or compound of different things.

~~~~~~~
A paper from Hume and the Skeptics exploring sensory input. Part I of III

Imagine a world of nothing. What springs to mind is likely a void with endless blackness—but even this is too much. Absolutely nothing. No colors, smells, objects or sounds whatsoever. When Descartes emptied his barrel of apples, this is what remained. For the sake of curious exploration, let us build a world in it.

Firstly, it must be mentioned that something exists, and while we cannot be sure of it, it can. This thing that exists we will call the floating cogito. It has all the properties of our sapient minds, the ability to mentally explore, imagine, problem-solve and especially, self-reflect. What it cannot do is hear, see, smell, feel or taste; but at the very least, it can think. Here we are generous in granting its capacities for the sake of argument, as were this creature real, having no input whatsoever would cripple its mental abilities to unimaginable handicap. Instead, we imagine this floating cogito to be much like ourselves when alone and ruminating; thoughtful, curious and logical, it seeks knowledge.

Being disconnected from what normally leads humans astray might be more a blessing than a curse for the creature (here I am fairly certain only very hard-nosed skeptics might agree), as fallible experience is not on its list of options. Instead, it floats in the void seeking knowledge. First, its self-reflection demands knowledge of its existence, and proving this theorem does not take long. Being the clever creature that it is, without any experience at all, it convinces itself of its own existence—beyond all doubt. Every moment it spends thinking about its thought, it knows it exists.

Objurgate

\OB-juhr-gayt\, transitive verb:
To express strong disapproval of; to criticize severely.

~~~~~~~

American Empire Part II

Which raises another concern. Living here, I completely disagree with our country’s national policy. I am afraid that action in the Middle East is shades of at the very least military expansion, and at most a growing Empire (where here, the Empire is a burgeoning money tree). I abhor the national politics of encouraging fear among our own people in order to spur action against “terrorists”, who are must less dangerous, and much less terrifying, than our country and its policies have come to be. Many of the things I love about this country have dwindled—the media buckles, at times, under political presence, the Senate bows to the President, the people’s discontent ignored, free speech readily available, unhindered, and seemingly entirely ineffective. These are only my concerns—there is still plenty I love about my country.

But if it were to be fought—if my country were to be retaliated against for further invasions, for instituting corporate and superpower terrorism, for disobeying the UN and being an aggressor to financial ends—if my country were to be fought against, whether in a political, or even an aggressive sense, I don’t know what I would do.

Shall I take up arms, fight for the homeland, though I foresaw such retaliation from those fearing the beast? I’m not talking about terrorists coming to American and blowing things up—not cowardice; I’m talking about sensible countries that after years and years of attempting treaties, reasonable dialogue, peaceful intervening, have no other choice but to put a stop to American politics (this is, of course, if America continues along this current path—which I have my doubts and hopes it will). But if such a thing occurred, I don’t know if I’d agree with American foreign policy enough to fight for it.

In fact, it is my inclination at this point that I would feel a moral obligation not to fight for it. If I were to fight, it would be for those I love—my family, community, the parts of America I respect. The idea of American democracy. But if that institution has been de-established, and I am asked to fight for an aggressive, cruel foreign policy, I could not defend such notions. If America became an Empire, I might even agree with its being toppled.

And such a thing would break my heart—to not only watch all the things I love about my country blown away on the wings of financial prominence, but to thereafter be obliged, and think it sensible, to wish its suppression. I mire such things when talking about the Iraq war and American foreign policy constantly, and thus do I say I fear an American Empire.

It would be America in name alone, aggressive, ignorant of its people’s desires, and ritualistically concerned with monetary gain and little else. Would you defend such a future?

Let’s hope it never comes to that end. I hope for change above all else in 2008.

Sophistry

–noun, plural -ries.

1.	a subtle, tricky, superficially plausible, but generally fallacious method of reasoning.

2.	a false argument; sophism.

~~~~~~~

American Empire Part I

I fear an American Empire. Especially when we explored in class what seems to be the real motives in beginning and persisting with the war, the whiff of this end whirls through the air. Though certainly not a distinct future at this point, it is not hard to imagine a few more key events leading, inevitably, to American democracy becoming the next biggest worldwide oppressor.

This time, however, the ground will slip under the people rather experience deliberate disregard for them (such an empire as Roman gave passing concern to plebeians on a daily basis). In a country built on freedom and the participation of people in the government, the government must slowly be pried away. Perhaps it is only my experience, but this is what I’ve felt happening in the last few years—more and more people plead for change, and less and less happens. Undermined, people lose faith in the system. Rather than spurring more change, it robs people of initiative. This will reach a breaking point, accompanied by revolt, but until then, how much power will government officials sap? I fear by the time people rise up, the government will be too powerful to rise against.

America has put a large stars and stripes blueprint in the Middle East. It does not matter whether unconvincing threats or merely financial gain will drive us to overthrow more countries in the area. This is exactly what an Empire does—seek to expand, by force. While “establishing democracy” is certainly not a bad thing, forcibly establishing democracy is a farce. It will produce no free people and only puppet leaders. Instead, our presence as the best example of a terrorist threat is being established—literally, through terror, we are daring the world's hand. That is unfortunately the role of a superpower—save a superpower with moral obligations, which our country has not only in recent years, but throughout the last half century, abandoned, we have the power to crush others and instead of suppressing it, use it. If I did not live here, I would be terrified. I live here, and I still am.

Salubrious

\suh-LOO-bree-us\, adjective:
Favorable to health; promoting health; healthful.

~~~~~~~

I think the self does indeed reside at the center of two grades of circles—moral obligation, and sincere concern. Not only does the body and mind often demand it, but in aiding others we need to be sure ourselves are intact as well. However, I think it need not be alone in that central circle—as I can think of those who share it, not completely altruistically, but selfless enough that their concern for self may be stated as equal to the respect and attention paid to the self. Thus, our moral obligations need not be solely concerned with the self first at all times, but might, it the best of circumstances, seek pressing priority for improved living of several.

Afflatus

\uh-FLAY-tuhs\, noun:
A divine imparting of knowledge; inspiration.

~~~~~~~

We should recognize the universality of a phrase like, “There’s no place like home,” because it doesn’t imply our idiosynchratic locations, just an intrinsically shared and human concept. These will unite us. But without greater finesse and maturity it will not be enough.

We should share these needs rather than pit them against one another. Perhaps we entertain pockets of loyalty so passionately to ignore our insecurities—we want to be special, unique and loved. When we find a place and set of people who make us feel that way, we defend it wholeheartedly, under the fear that letting go of the contingent peculiarities will throw the whole barrel, slaked insecurities and all, overboard.

We all need this home. It seems likely that many of the loyalties we hold have only temporarily and superficially solved our greatest concerns—the need to feel like we belong, or like we are unique and intelligent, are all challenged when recognizing universality, perusing common human experiences, resisting an “it’s us and them” scenarios. In these cases, recognizing universality will throw out security with the bathwater because our insecurities are not solved or confronted, but persistently ignored or satiated by these otherwise arbitrary attachments.

Bellwether

\BEL-weth-uhr\, noun:
A leader of a movement or activity; also, a leading indicator of future trends.

~~~~~~~

My attempted is-ought bridge--I think I figured out what's wrong with it, but you let me know.

1. Hurting others causes mental, emotional and physical suffering.
2. I do not need to hurt others.
3. The person being hurt will experience more suffering than I will satisfaction.
4. I care about others.
5. I do not hurt those I care about.
-------------
I ought not to hurt others.


It can even be simplified to this.

1. I care about others.
2. I do not need to hurt others.
3. Needless hurting betrays my care for others.
-------------
I ought not to hurt others.

Chicanery

\shih-KAY-nuh-ree\, noun:
1. The use of trickery or sophistry to deceive (as in matters of law).
2. A trick; a subterfuge.

~~~~~~~

Part II

This has often been called the “morally relevant difference” in debates concerning animal ethics. I have scoured material on the subject since early this school year, and since first considering that humans, too, are animals, I have not found one morally relevant difference between humans and animals that makes it morally acceptable to kill one for food and not the other.

Some have argued that morality is the difference—animals cannot treat us with the same respect for our lives, and are thus unqualified to receive moral consideration. I find it rather the opposite—in all cases of moral patienthood, where one creature is capable of morality, and the other unable to self-reflect (and thus be consciously aware of the suffering they may or may not cause), it is in the responsibility of the self-reflective being (the moral agent) to, instead of ignoring considerations of suffering incurred via their actions, take it within context and act accordingly.

Under this proviso, considering that sentient animals are very much capable of suffering, that between sentient animals and humans there are no morally relevant differences that allow suffering to be consciously caused one but not the other, and that as similar members of the biosphere of sentient creatures (as we, too, are animals), I find a responsibility not to eat animals, whether personally killed or not.

But, of course, this is where the “but” comes in, as I do not very much expect everyone will have the same opinion as me on this issue. However, if asked, I do think the average American should be a vegetarian—it gets very scary when people force you to elaborate on the details of what you believe, but I am not so bashful as to claim I think I alone am the only moral agent reasonably compelled (or should be reasonably compelled) to vegetarianism.

Nonetheless, it is in my greatest disinterest to lay stake in the morality of others, which is why, particularly in this scenario, what is most crucial is continued dialogue about the issue—as with all moral quandaries, it will always be the individual who must conclude what moral action is; all else is an appeal to force from an unqualified authority, and an inefficacious one at that.

Sacrosanct

\SAK-roh-sankt\, adjective:
Sacred; inviolable.

~~~~~~~

Part I

As mentioned in class, I think my answer to whether or not the average American should eat meat would be no, but under the proviso that this conclusion of my own not be arbitrarily or forcibly imposed on those who have no mind to follow it and probably would not anyway. As was seen with Prohibition, there is little sense in instituting a law most of the country would disagree with.

As that is the state of America today concerning meat eating, I think the most conducive platform to reform concerning animals begins with making the moral issue more visible—far too often the argument against meat eating is primarily concerned with whether or not the creature suffers, not whether or not it is wrong to kill the creature (which occurs for many different purposes, but one of the easier categories to discuss, I think, concerns killing them for food).

I believe the average American should not eat meat because they have the choice—the average American is monetarily equipped to choose their diet, and as such (ought implies can) owes it to themselves (again, of course, with respect to dietary needs) at least to consider why it is acceptable to kill and eat an animal and not a human. I am not here trying to establish the sameness of humans and nonhuman animals—as I myself believe there are valuable differentiations among living organisms (such as insects/plants and sentient creatures) that are morally relevant and important to keeping the argument from becoming a “all life is holy” fallacy.

Nor am I suggesting that animals are necessarily more valuable than humans merely because of their moral patienthood—rather, I suggest that we find a non-arbitrary criteria for determining why it is morally acceptable to kill a sentient animal and not a human.

Nefarious

\nuh-FAIR-ee-uhs\, adjective:
Wicked in the extreme; iniquitous.

~~~~~~~

I know this doesn't count as a substantial blog entry.

http://www.xkcd.com/373/

Captious

\KAP-shuhs\, adjective:
1. Marked by a disposition to find fault or raise objections.
2. Calculated to entrap or confuse, as in an argument.

~~~~~~~

We needn’t be agnostic about quantum gravity or string theory or dark matter or the multiverse. Hypotheses are claims to knowledge and insufficient claims are appropriately labeled. All our knowledge is imperfect and subject to continual revision. Why, then, is knowledge of god any different?

Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that we’re 75 years ago, and the effects of dark matter are first being observed. The reason why we needn’t be agnostic about something like dark matter is that as evidence accumulates, our hypothesis is better understood. What evidence can be found supports the knowledge claim to the existence of the object—in this case, dark matter. If someone proposed dark matter, and evidence was not yet found, people needn’t be agnostic about whether or not dark matter existed—instead, two alternatives appear: If sufficient evidence shows it exists, then it should be believed. If no or insufficient evidence comes to the fold, then it should not be believed.

I do not think the argument for god is any different, despite its human-universal importance (that is, universal importance, but only in regards to humans). If there is insufficient evidence, one is not unreasonable to say one does not believe in a deity. Similarly if sufficient evidence did arise, one would not be unreasonable, then, to accept the new, more tenable proposition that the deity does indeed exist.

In matters of inquiry, room must always be left for new evidence, and even when what some consider to be the oldest superstition is in play, this is still the case. But if the argument concerned dark matter instead of god, and there were insufficient evidence, would you say “we cannot know if there is dark matter”, or would you say “dark matter probably doesn’t exist” and change your mind if and only if the evidence changes?

Knowledge is not a static thing. It can and must change in response to input. When we say we “know”, what I think we’re stipulating is “we know now, on what evidence is provided” not “we know for sure, forever” (as some Skeptics would claim is the only real knowledge). We work with what powers we have, but I think we do ourselves a service to pick up primarily what we have evidence for, and trust primarily that.

Assuage

\uh-SWAYJ\, verb:
1. To make milder or less severe; to reduce the intensity of; to ease; to relieve.
2. To appease; to satisfy.
3. To soothe or calm; to pacify.

~~~~~~~

“In other words, it is reasonable to disbelieve a proposition when there is no evidence. Even if it is less certainly false than propositions which are actually contradicted by evidence (although even that does not amount to a complete certainty), it is still reasonable to regard them as false so long as we've done some checking, and don't ignore new evidence that we come across.”

The discussion in class today had me rolling around a couple of conclusions, some of which I mentioned and some of which I didn’t, but to try and come to a final conclusion I’ll list most of them here.

Firstly, atheism, theism, and many other ‘ism’s are groups that help satisfy social needs regarding personal beliefs. What benefits they offer in unity are matched and sometimes overcome by the penalties they exact in autonomy and the ability to change one’s mind. Thus, ‘ism’s often group together large amounts of people who share a few of the same beliefs, and are otherwise wildly diverse. This is the first problem in discerning why people prefer agnosticism, I think—obviously, it’s an ‘ism’ (so one can be easily identified, or included) but it’s also colloquially a group of people that seem more tolerant because they’re still unsure (in Skeptic language, they have suspended judgment). Thus, by joining a group that avoids beliefs rather than summons it, one might be at least more humble by comfortably accepting the tentative nature of their beliefs.

Now, as we also mentioned, this draws many parallels with skepticism—enough that I would not hesitate to claim they are nearly the same. Skeptics often claim themselves more reasonable and humble than their credulous counterparts, because they reject the dogmatism of belief, often in several places rather than few. As well, just like agnosticism, skepticism is another ‘ism’ that lumps together people under a banner of withheld belief rather than credulity.

Here I argue, however, that ‘withheld belief’, more often that not, in both cases (skepticism and agnosticism) means ‘disbelief’, largely because both have insufficient evidence to make a conclusion about the object of inquiry. Where there is insufficient evidence, particularly in claims of existence, it is almost always (I won’t say always—I’m still working out that one) more rational to disbelieve the object exists.

However, this is not to say I believe in all cases persons undecided (and thus likely labeling themselves agnostic) are atheists. Though on stronger reflection they might incline in the direction of atheism, I don’t believe all people accept the notion that it is always irrational to believe something on insufficient grounds. Many people are drawn by more than evidence to the notion of god, and might be swaying as a matter of sensibly accumulated lacking or contradictory evidence, and other factors (such as emotional security, an inclination to believe the universe has meaning, absolute morality), between believing in a god and not.

I personally do believe that it is unreasonable to believe something with insufficient evidence in most cases, deity included. But I suppose I still believe agnostic is a tenable position for someone struggling between camps. Similarly, I think it likely someone calling themselves agnostic (in the sense that we literally cannot know whether or not god exists) is a skeptic, and should apply their logic appropriately—it is arbitrary to say we cannot know whether or not god exists and not question the external reality and whether or not humans can have any truth at all—as these are questions running parallel to the claim god cannot be known, and should be addressed.

I’ll have more to say on this later, I think.

Busker

\BUS-kur\, noun:
A person who entertains (as by playing music) in public places.

~~~~~~~

The principle of exclusion is an almost prolific trait of religions, seldom failing to appear beside promised salvation for believers and dire punishment for nonbelievers.

Theorizing broadly (and thus, merely musing), it seems to me that such an emphasis on the “we’re right, you’re wrong” mentality is almost mandatory to comply with religion’s dictates: absolute morality and absolute truth (in certain matters). As we can find these two faculties nowhere else in the universe, and they can essentially never be agreed upon, it is a given that whomever takes up one religion must obviously forgo the absolutes of every other religion promising the same thing. (There are obviously exemptions from this model, such as oft-referenced Buddhism.)

For how can there be two gods, claiming that only their followers will go to heaven? Certainly no religions speak of warring deities, fighting, much like their followers, for position in the cosmos. The stipulation that one group of persons possesses the ‘truth’ and all others are misinformed is often (but not always) a key element of religion, which serves 1. to circumvent the falliblism of the quandary often called into greatest question (which is why religious authority in the older centuries (and today) referred to faith as a virtue, and considered it more thoughtful than reason), 2. to create a sense of solidarity among believers, enhancing the reasons to believe and, 3. to induce a indelible security that cannot be provided by science—a lifelong sense of purpose (however esoteric) and a compassionate, powerful father-figure.

These stipulations solve many of the most profound human insecurities—the fear of being wrong (absolute truth), the desire to live the ‘right’ way (absolute morality), the desire to be special (purpose, as well as paternal eyes personally concerned with each individual). But these are only mere speculations as to how religion conforms to insecurities, and not enough, on their own, to poke definitive holes in the notion that religions do indeed provide the truth.

However, the exclusion principle is often the most harmful, and the most difficult to circumvent. When one’s conclusion depends on such a principle (again, how can anyone else be right (about these questions) when one has absolute truth?), and especially when that conclusion includes violent and cruel punishment for any who disagree, this exclusion principle can easily produce irreconcilable dissonance.

So I agree with Clark, there needs to be a common ground. And from my experiences, people (religious and not) are certainly not opposed to it. We don’t want to war with one another (most of the time) merely due to different beliefs, even if those beliefs condemn some and not others, because, in a sense, the humans maintaining those beliefs, to me at least, are more compassionate than certain forms of god himself—willing not only to get along with, but be compassionate toward and love those who believe differently than they (of course there are many, many others less tolerant as well). It is in suspending judgment of one another on these grounds that diversity can be maintained, and neither side need die out, but continually agree on a set of ever-inclusive principles. But perhaps that is too hopeful.

Patina

\PAT-n-uh; puh-TEEN-uh\, noun:
1. The color or incrustation which age gives to works of art; especially, the green rust which covers ancient bronzes, coins, and medals.
2. The sheen on any surface, produced by age and use.
3. An appearance or aura produced by habit, practice, or use.
4. A superficial layer or exterior.

~~~~~~~

(This is a continuation of the below post)

After determining how something functions, we are often drawn to ask why. Not the simple why, by which we calculate what causes precede the effects of stars exploding or genes mutating, but ultimate questions, like why does the universe exist? Why do we exist? How do we fit in the universe? Why can we understand the universe, and why do we want to?

And these are not trivial questions in the least—in fact, most people would prescribe them much more importance than understanding the mere functions of the universe. Thus, when we say “physical evidence only takes you so far”, we don’t necessarily mean that physical evidence can’t bring us truth, but that the kinds of truth we value the most aren’t always hiding behind physical evidence and true theories. Instead, these kinds of truth require very human (or very godly), and very subjective (or very infallible), inquiry and answers (deistical prescriptions and suggestions).

It is my opinion that these answers come from a mix of understanding the universe, the self, and the purpose one wishes to personally build and fulfill throughout one’s life. Others have found this sought-after meta-meaning in god, or spirituality, or something that lives among us but is not physical. These meta-meanings do not only inform us, but inspire and enliven us, such that our search for truth is made possible and valuable.

I think the meaning of one’s life is a subjective construction that we actively build, and which can be informed and directed by understanding the natural world and our interactions with those we love and don’t. But certainly I’m not such a hard-nosed naturalist that I think such a meaning can be derived from the motions of the universe alone.

The point I’m stumbling my way across is that there are two distinct kinds of truth that often overlap because humans seek “truth” as a whole, and blur the line. There is the truth we can find in the universe, which is rich and layered, complicated but satisfying to grasp, and which, in conjunction with turning the mirror on ourselves, can serve to greatly enhance our understanding of, and ability to act knowledgeable within, the universe.

Then there is a second type of truth, a self-wrought or spiritually-given purpose, by which our most crucial insecurities are anxious and tentative, and through which we find meaning for all the things we do. I do not think meaning can be found in the motion of the universe, nor do I think the universe (excluding sentience) can have a meaning. We are the makers of meaning.

“Physical evidence can only get you so far” if the road to truth includes meaning, and it most certainly does. But physical evidence is not the only requisite for finding meaning, nor the final word on the questions we care most about answering. Those questions, instead, are posed and answered by us.

Garrulous

\GAIR-uh-lus; GAIR-yuh-\, adjective:
1. Talking much, especially about commonplace or trivial things; talkative.
2. Wordy.

~~~~~~~

“Physical evidence only takes you so far” is a phrase I heard quite often in our discussions concerning the natural and supernatural. Indeed, the limits of our understanding have always been inevitably bound to what we have thus far discovered, and what our minds can currently make of it. However, I feel like exploring exactly what it is that waits farther than where physical evidence can take us.

Firstly, I must state the obvious: physical evidence can only make suggestions while existent: for example, if we hadn’t indirectly observed dark matter, what reason would we have to believe it exists? So our theories are only as informed as the evidence behind them.

Then, we must understand how theories build on one another—general relativity on Newtonian gravity, modern psychology on Freud’s psychoanalysis, and so on. Theories grow with several missteps, get refined, and better describe the external world as more information and better theories breach the fray.

And here is where we stop: curious minds seek understanding, find evidence, build theories, and try to make those theories match the world. This is a process I find essentially eternal: the search for truth, constantly informed by humble searching. If this is all that was meant by “physical evidence only takes you so far”, then I whole-heartedly agree. But I think what we often mean is something more.

I’ll continue this in a little while, when I have more time. Check the above post for a continuation.

Recherche

\ruh-sher-SHAY\, adjective:
1. Uncommon; exotic; rare.
2. Exquisite; choice.
3. Excessively refined; affected.
4. Pretentious; overblown.

~~~~~~~

As much as I would enjoy this-world empiricism to be the standard (it would rather simplify a lot of debates in favor of my opinions), it is a wildly unfair approach to bridging the gap between beliefs.

Even were it to shift the arguments toward my views, I would not prefer it, because minds have not been changed, just excluded. Minds excluded from any debate lessen its diversity—and I hold to the proposition that in almost any situation requiring solutions, diversity is the key. Much like in evolution, where diversity allots some creatures the capability to handle difficult scenarios, and continued diversity increases the chance of a species’ survival against environmental changes, so too do humans thrive among social and mental difficulties with the same solution: varied is better. Someone’s bound to have a better answer.

And even if this-world empiricism were invoked, I very much doubt it would stand up for long—imagine being Galileo a thousand years ago, fighting for an idea of the universe that almost everyone tells you cannot be spoken about. Back then, he was even punished! If we invoked a system excluding the supernatural from debate, we would be doing the same thing (in somewhat of the opposite direction) to those firm in their otherworldly (or even supernaturally worldly) views. And sooner or later, the arguments would seep in anyway.

I much prefer letting all opinions be heard, even if it leads to more chaos, because eventually it will lead to more epiphanies, and that’s what we all want, isn’t it? Not just tolerance, but answers?

Tyro

\TY-roh\, noun:
A beginner in learning; a novice.

~~~~~~~

Unable to reconcile the hypothetical situation brought up the other day, I'm going to explore it here.

What I drew in class was a line, with the number 3 at the beginning of it (to represent our 3 dimensional world), and at the end of the line drew a perpendicular one, to bring it to a full stop. This is where spacetime (as represented by the line) theoretically stops, or at the very least every moving thing does. This is just a philosophical consideration--who knows how or why everything would stop moving, but it does. Literally everything in the third dimension.

Then I drew the line onward, and drew another perpendicular line, to represent when time begins again. And I wondered--would such a thing be instantaneous, or only to the things within it that have stopped moving? Conceivably, it would be much like sci-fi or fantasy notions of stopping time--everything stops moving, but for the people within, when it starts again, no 'time' has passed at all.

Thus, the line carving the start and stop would seem, to those moving, to be one line. But then I drew another line, alongside the first, with all the same provisions, except no line where motion stops. This is an alternate universe, and I put a rock and an observer in it. Now, when the first universe stops moving, time/motion does not stop for the second, so conceivably (should they have extra-dimensional perception), someone standing the second reality could recognize the complete lack of motion in the other universe as time passing, but only in their own.

So can it be said that time still moves, even if that universe is not moving at all? But still, something must be introduced as moving to recognize that time is passing at all (this second universe). But this is not to say that without the second universe, time would not pass (as it needn't an observer, I think, to function). Thus, the "time" occurring in the full stop of motion would be relative to a different perspective: a different sort of relative time. But here I've confused myself again, as time is intrinsically related to space, and without space as a referent for bending time, how can we know how and if time continues to progress without motion?

Perhaps there is some way to measure time without the bend of space: time certainly seems intrinsically related (embodied as this wildly different other dimension in making calculations about space), but not necessarily confined to solely the movement of space? I don't know. Obviously I can theorize that time continues to move while motion stops but I have no idea what we would then think of time. But perhaps I'm just running myself in circles because I don't have enough information.

Imbroglio

\im-BROHL-yoh\, noun:
1. A complicated and embarrassing state of things.
2. A confused or complicated disagreement or misunderstanding.
3. An intricate, complicated plot, as of a drama or work of fiction.
4. A confused mass; a tangle.

~~~~~~~

http://specificrelativity2.blogspot.com/2008/02/circumambient.html

Perdurable

\pur-DUR-uh-bul; pur-DYUR-\, adjective:
Very durable; lasting; continuing long.

~~~~~~~

A scenario (culled in part from a screenplay): a ship several hundred years from now, equipped with the best sci-fi engines that Earth has ever known, sets out for a nearby (only a hundred light years away) planet. This is a necessary mission: say, a meteor is unquestionably going to hit Earth in a couple of hundred years, and they're getting something done now. The first mission sent is a scout - to be certain the planet is inhabitable before hundreds of civilization-ships (with similarly equipped engines) set out. The ship can move half the speed of light (they're fantastic engines, really), so the first ship will reach the planet in fifty years. But, of course, even current day physicists knows this is futile.

By the time they reach the planet, moving that speed, the Earth will be harboring a dust blanket and sporting a gash the size of Brazil. Time would bend around the ship, and well before they'd ever reach the new planet and send back the go-ahead, everyone would be dead.

This is what interstellar travel would be like: entirely disorienting for all involved. Anyone not on the ship beside you will be subject to a whole other timeline, and unless they too are moving at incredible rates, they will age and die very quickly from your perspective. Shows like Star Trek make little sense with this idea: no captain could ever have a continuing dialogue with another unless they move side by side--otherwise both would age differently, relative to their positions and speeds. In the scenario, the first ship would return from its galactic round trip to find spaceships so far upgraded from itself as to be entirely unrecognizable. A ship sent to scout would have rings spun around it by the ship that came next. It's like sending out a car moving 2 miles an hour toward a destination, and because it moves so slow (or, in the case of space, so fast), you have time to build a racecar and leave it in the dust long before it gets where it's going. Calculating interstellar travel will be a mathematical task for nothing less than supersupercomputers.

So where was I going with this... I'm not sure. But after watching that video on the tenth dimension, I'm left curious why there are not more higher-dimension travelers coming around to bop us on the head. It seems we might be able to travel across many of these dimensions (via wormholes and the like), but so far, we haven't experienced any travelers of any kind from any direction or any dimension beyond our own tiny three + one dimensional dust mote.

I'm curious if these dimensions (should they prove true) are merely building blocks for the fabric of the universe, or if they can be consciously navigated. Something tells me it'll be a long time before we know, and maybe never before we can empirically prove. But that doesn't mean I'm overly skeptical of the notion--it seems plausible.

It is ironic, though, that instead of the first dimension being what everything else builds on, it seems more organized (from how I've heard it explained) like a formidable tower of dimensions at the moment of the Big Bang, and either diminished into fewer dimensions or slapped the fabric downward from there.