Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts

Monday, October 25, 2010

The God Delusion

Richard Dawkins, and the new atheists in general, have a reputation for nastiness.  Having read Dawkins' book “The God Delusion”, I say such a reputation couldn't be more ill deserved.  Before reading the book, the title sounds antagonistic, but after finishing the book, it only sounds like a well reasoned and entirely appropriate conclusion.  Even after the first few pages I had to revise the mental image I had of the man, he is much more kind and took a more balanced approach to his subject than I had anticipated!  Of note, I found the sections on the origins of morality (page 219 gives an interesting example of Arabian babblers, little brown birds that compete for costly and dangerous roles) and the inspiration of nature (page 362) to be particularly interesting.  I also enjoyed the frequent references to primary sources in science, literature, and religion.  There is a lot to recommend reading this book.

It is not the only, nor probably the best, reason for a person to leave their religion, but Dawkins summarized the very basic reason why I left religion (page 282):
Fundamentalists know they are right because they have read the truth in a holy book and they know, in advance, that nothing will budge them from their belief.  The truth of the holy book is an axiom, not the end product of a process of reasoning.  The book is true, and if the evidence seems to contradict it, it is the evidence that must be thrown out, not the book.
Despite my honest belief, I came to realize that I valued reasoning over axioms.  It is simply the more responsible approach.  And when that reasoning does not lead to one's professed axioms, deconversion is virtually inevitable.  These are my own words from early 2001 (note the similarity to those of Dawkins' above):
There is nothing wrong with believing a doctrine, the will to believe requires no justification, but if a doctrine is considered inviolable against the inquisitive nature, the very thing that suggested its possibility in the first place, then any further possibilities that are suggested will have to either accord with it or be rejected, although it may be more appropriate to question the primacy of the doctrine itself.
Dawkins makes reference on several occasions to an idea that Dennett put forth: belief in belief.  For some time after I wrote that, and even now, though I do not believe as I did before, I do at times believe in some form of belief.  It isn't that I dislike belief, so much as that I earnestly value reasoning.  (And as it is wont to do, reasoning often stands at odds with cherished beliefs.)  Anyone one who feels the same will find a kindred spirit in this book.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

John Lennon

If John Lennon were still alive he would've been 70 yesterday; he died in 1980 when he was 40 years old. I watched The U.S. vs. John Lennon, which seemed as good a way as any to celebrate his birth. The radio station played “Nowhere Man”, a song Lennon wrote about himself, and no review of his life would be complete without mentioning the song “Imagine”. Lennon believed in peaceful revolution and advocated for human rights, especially where he saw their abuse. It's all there in his song, here's the message, paraphrased: Imagine no religion, no countries, nothing to kill or die for; no possessions, greed or hunger. Imagine sharing all the world, living for today, in peace. I wonder what Lennon would've said had he lived? His song is probably the most widely recognized in the world, a dream countless people still aspire to.

But Lennon's life was not a fairy tale.  He didn't really know his parents.  He seems to have been very abusive of people close to him in his earlier years.  His affair with Yoko Ono (who herself faced hardship in early life) led to leaving his first wife and son, whose existence was kept secret to protect his career.  While with Ono she and John became burned out from drugs, quacks, emotional breakdowns and media attention.  His relationship with Ono was inconstant: she had relationships with gigolos, and at her suggestion he had an affair with their personal assistant May Pang for several years.  Mark Chapman, who shot him in 1980, was obsessed by Salinger's book The Catcher in the Rye.  Salinger himself was interested in a litany of spiritual, medical, and nutritional belief systems.  All told, it makes for a pretty messy story.  But out of all this there was produced moments of beauty, and many people found inspiration. 

Friday, October 1, 2010

La Mettrie

"L'homme machine" or "Man the Machine" was written in 1748 by Julien Offray de La Mettrie.  It is described as an important contribution to the development of the Age of Enlightenment, but leaving its historical context aside for the moment, it contains many interesting ideas which I will try to summarize.

La Mettrie, a physician, allows only the use of facts and observations derived through experimentation to describe the human body.  From this approach he concludes that it is a machine, though admittedly a very complex machine that is initially impossible to get a clear idea of, and therefore to define.  It is only the arrangement of our parts that distinguishes one person from another, or a person from an animal, plant, or anything else.  Observation leads La Mettrie to conclude that animals think, are intelligent, and feel repentance and shame just as humans.  A materialistic explanation can even be extended to illuminate the causes of criminal acts.  Indeed, all things have materialistic explanations for La Mettrie.  Our abilities as well as our limitations can be ascribed to our material organization; it is our ignorance of them that has led us to use alternative explanations (usually supernatural).  For La Mettrie, we exist simply to exist, but if there is a reason, then nature made us for pleasure first and to be happy, and secondarily to be educated (though he suggests that like Gould's classic article about the Spandrels of San Marco, our ability to learn may have only been accidental.)

There is one quote by La Mettrie that I cannot improve on by summarization, so I will include it's translation (full pdf paper):
There is nothing contradictory about
(1) being a machine and (2) being able to feel, to think and to tell right from wrong like telling blue from yellow; that is,
(1) being a mere animal and (2) being born with intelligence and a sure instinct for morality,
any more than there is about
•being an ape or a parrot and •being able to give oneself pleasure.
. . . .Who would ever have guessed in advance that a drop of liquid ejaculated in mating would give rise to such divine pleasure? or that there would be born from it a little creature who would be able one day, given certain laws, to enjoy the same delights? Thought incompatible with organised matter? That is so far from right, I believe, that thought seems to be a property of matter, like electricity, power to move, impenetrability, extension, etc. 
In case this translation isn't clear, to La Mattrie, thought is not incompatible with organized matter, rather it is a property of it! Even 262 years later, we haven't solved that riddle yet.  But imagine if we really acted as though we were aware that we are the purely physical machines he describes us as.  What if we understood that we and all other things differ only in minor differences of organization, without any substantial differences at all.  Small changes in organization can lead to large changes in appearance and behavior.  Wouldn't we then be more sympathetic to our fellow men and creatures?  La Mattrie certainly thought so:  
Those haughty, vain, self-praising beings who are marked off by their pride more than by the label ‘men’ —are basically only animals and upright-crawling machines....
If only men would always show [as animals] the same gratitude for kindness and the same respect for humanity! Then we wouldn’t have to fear being met with ingratitude, or to fear these wars that are the scourge of the human race and the real hangmen of the law of nature.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

attention

Life as it is, here and now, is as good as it gets.  When something catches my attention and I want to turn toward it, I also turn away from the rest of my life.  I have to be careful with my attention!  (Zen contains a corollary message.)  When I follow the necessity of transient circumstances, my life is best, and it flows more smoothly.  By allowing myself to be receptive to the changing needs of life I become more accepting, appreciative, and compassionate.  And my thoughts and actions reflect this attitude. 

It used to be that we could only satisfy our basic needs; an ascetic lifestyle was the norm for our early ancestors.  Then, when culture and technology rapidly changed our lifestyle, we learned how to satisfy almost any need we could imagine, faster than ever before.  But we lack the native wisdom to know which desires should be satisfied and which should not, which impulses to act on and which to restrain.  This wasn't a problem before, we simply couldn't satisfy most of our creative desires, so the temptation was much less.  But now, in our instant gratification society, being careful with where we place our attention is more difficult than ever.  Perhaps the contemplative traditions like Buddhism arose to remind us that it is now up to us to impose on ourselves the control that the environment can no longer exercise over us.

The last few days I knew that my circumstances necessitated that I attend to various work and chores, but I became infected with a desire to watch episodes of the television series "Firefly." It was easier to do this than my work, so I easily caved and watched them.  While enjoyable, my work still needed to be done, only now I had even less time to do it in. 


"To study Buddhism is to study the self.  To study the self is to forget the self.  To forget the self is to become enlightened by all things."
"When other sects speak well of Zen, the first thing that they praise is its poverty."
"If he cannot stop the mind that seeks after fame and profit, he will spend his life without finding peace."
- Dogen

"My sermons are criticized by certain audiences. They say that my sermons are hollow, not holy. I agree with them because I myself am not holy. The Buddha's teaching guides people to the place where there is nothing special... People often misunderstand faith as kind of ecstasy of intoxication... True faith is sobering up from such intoxication."
- Kodo Sawaki

"No thought, no reflection, no analysis, no cultivation, no intention; let it settle itself."
- Tilopa

Saturday, August 21, 2010

scientific humility

My earlier interest in the role of science resurfaced when I looked at the ideas of E. O. Wilson.  He combines a depth of understanding with an ambitious and sweeping approach, making use of powerful quotes and sources along the way that make his works a pleasure to read. Wilson elevated the discipline of sociobiology, which he saw as bridging the gap between the humanities and the sciences in a new and revealing way.  Gould, another scientific giant, denounced Wilson's approach, when applied to humans.  The conflict between these two is interesting.  When I encounter unresolvable conflicts like this, my tendency is to want to side-step the problem and approach it from a new angle.  (Dawkins and Dennett have weighed in on this debate, though I have not read their conclusions yet.)  Since my interest is in the role of science in changing our perception of the world, I remembered PZ Myers once hailed Jacob Bronowski as a particularly articulate popularizer of science.  And indeed, he is: 
"It's said that science will dehumanize people and turn them into numbers. That's false, tragically false. Look for yourself. This is the concentration camp and crematorium at Auschwitz. This is where people were turned into numbers. Into this pond were flushed the ashes of some four million people. And that was not done by gas. It was done by arrogance, it was done by dogma, it was done by ignorance. When people believe that they have absolute knowledge, with no test in reality, this is how they behave. This is what men do when they aspire to the knowledge of gods.

Science is a very human form of knowledge. We are always at the brink of the known; we always feel forward for what is to be hoped. Every judgment in science stands on the edge of error and is personal. Science is a tribute to what we can know although we are fallible. In the end, the words were said by Oliver Cromwell: "I beseech you in the bowels of Christ: Think it possible you may be mistaken."

I owe it as a scientist to my friend Leo Szilard, I owe it as a human being to the many members of my family who died here, to stand here as a survivor and a witness. We have to cure ourselves of the itch for absolute knowledge and power. We have to close the distance between the push-button order and the human act. We have to touch people."
Source: Jacob Bronowski, The Ascent of Man, Episode 11: "Knowledge or Certainty"  (text or video)
Earlier, in his 1951 book The Commonsense of Science, Bronowski wrote: "It has been one of the most destructive modern prejudices that art and science are different and somehow incompatible interests".  Bronowski and Wilson were trying to do the same thing, they were trying, in Wilson's words, to show the consilience of knowledge, though they do it in different ways.  Wilson's critics believed he did not give due acknowledgment to the role of culture in explaining behavior, his approach was overly simplistic ("greedy reductionism"), and his conclusions on human nature were not entirely correct.  Gould was aware that not only genes but also developmental constraints influence evolution – any explanation for human behaviour would inevitably be pluralistic in content.  Wilson provides a materialistic explanation for the unity of knowledge that, for a variety of reasons, not everyone accepts.  Bronowski provided an explanation for the unity of knowledge that roots it in our ethical sensibilities, and is far less controversial. 

What I find most interesting about the extended quote above is that Bronowski, in humanizing the subject, turns a popular assumption of the role of science on its head.  The most important role of science isn't to provide us with knowledge, it is to tell us that we do not have knowledge (any claims of knowledge must meet rigorous criteria), we do not have knowledge when often we suppose we do, and to show us why this is so.  Science is the best tool we have for eliminating certainty.  A dictatorship, like those during WWII, aspires to absolute knowledge and power - any doubt of its authority must be eliminated and prevented.  Honest science cannot proceed under such constraints with artificial limitations imposed upon it.  It depends on the freedom of ideas, so to Bronowski, the flourishing of science is the best hope to preventing future tragedies of the scale that had occurred in WWII.  He does not believe they would have occurred if the people, and the leaders, were to ask themselves if they could be certain they were right, in light of the terrible cost of being wrong.  The same effect results from science as can result from philosophy, rationalism, realism, and critical thinking.  Science, the application of critical thinking to everyday human activities, is the antidote to the power of propaganda.  Science does not make us arrogant, it can only humble us.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Satisficing: the cure for analysis paralysis

I have a great family, a house, and I am part of a socially stabilizing effort assisting in the development of humankind toward a deeper understanding and appreciation for life.  No one person does this alone.  And yet, I have a problem.  Lack of motivation?  Obsessive-compulsive?  Instant gratification impulsiveness? Inability to defer gratification to a later date?  No.  Perfectionism?  Indecisiveness?  Closer.  As Dan Ariely puts it, "When we are choosing between two or more very similar options, we tend NOT to take into account the consequences of not deciding."  In other sources, this situation is cleverly termed "analysis paralysis".  My almost compulsive over analysis of some ideas came to my attention in a post dated 11 May 2010.  (The following portion of this entry will borrow heavily from the most popular online reference, Wikipedia, paraphrasing liberally.)

Analysis paralysis describes the situation where a decision is treated as over-complicated, with too many detailed options; when a person seeks an optimal or "perfect" solution upfront, and fears making any decision which could lead to erroneous results.  In the end a choice is never made, despite the alternative of trying something and changing if a major problem arises. In this example the opportunity cost of decision analysis exceeds the benefits that could be gained by enacting some decision.

Herbert Simon (who researched cognitive psychology, politics, sociology, and computer science, among other fields) defined two cognitive styles: maximizers who try to make an optimal decision, and satisficers who simply try to find a solution that is "good enough". Maximizers tend to take longer making decisions due to the need to maximize performance across all variables and make tradeoffs carefully; and some suggest they also tend to more often regret their decisions

Simon coined the word satisfice in 1956. He pointed out that human beings lack the cognitive resources to maximize.  A more realistic approach to rationality takes into account these limitations, this is called bounded rationality.  Bounded rationality is the notion that in decision making, rationality of individuals is limited by:
  • the information they have (we usually do not know the relevant probabilities of outcomes), 
  • the cognitive limitations of their minds (we can rarely evaluate all outcomes with sufficient precision and our memories are weak and unreliable), and 
  • the finite amount of time they have to make decisions. 
(Thus ends my liberal paraphrasing of Wikipedia.)

So what can I conclude from all this?  Well, a rational person who adopts a realistic perspective is a satisficer; someone who recognizes that this kind of decisiveness is in the long run a more optimal solution than indecisiveness despite the initial appearance that it is a poor decision making strategy.  (This reflects Tim Pychyl's anti-procrastination mantra "just get started.")  Satisficers take an evolutionary approach to optimization, where some "accidental" solution is used so long as it works, and competing solutions are naturally selected such that the best ones are used and less optimal solutions either change or are no longer used.  And in the final analysis, who is to say that an optimal solution exists (Zhuangzi had much to say on this subject)?  Each solution has advantages and disadvantages, once the apparently worst options are removed, what remains may be qualitatively indistinguishable.  Satisficers, and the process of evolution, both have no definite goal, or even a clear direction (in a sense).  Perfectionists and maximizers do have a goal: making the optimal decision, and they insist on knowing what that is before they take any action.  That is their weakness and eventual downfall. 

Tags: decision making, indecisiveness, irrational delay, deferred gratification, analysis paralysis, satisficing, bounded rationality

Saturday, July 31, 2010

irrationality

What comes to mind when you think of the word "irrational"?  It has a very accusatory sound, and doesn't instantly appeal to most people the first time they hear it.  It only appealed to me after I was able to apply the notion to my own behavior, with positive results.  And it seems more precise than colloquial phrases like "human folly".  That said, the word "irrational" is still very vague, and the more often it becomes used by people and groups with different ideas of what constitutes irrational behavior, the less clear it becomes.  Just as one man's junk is another man's treasure, one person's definition of irrational behavior is not the same as another's.  So long as an explanation is given for why a particular thought, desire, or behavior is irrational I think these difficulties can be avoided and the reader can come to her own conclusions.  In my opinion, it is easier, and sometimes more immediately fruitful, to spot out instances of irrationality than examples of rationality, but both deserve equal attention.

There is an intersection with these ideas and the skeptical and atheist movement.  (Before going further I should re-emphasize that all these terms are equally vulnerable to misappropriation by groups with opposing ideological agendas.  Remember how "compassionate" used to be a good word? It still is, but not everyone means the same thing.)  It is wise to be skeptical of our motivations when they are likely to be irrational.  And the atheist movement is the result of putting religious claims under the critical lens of science, philosophy, and humanitarian concerns.  There are voices on the internet calling attention to these subjects.  Dan Ariely is a behavioral economist whose focus is irrational behavior, which is also the subject of his last two books.  A group of bloggers contribute to "Irrationality Itches", which appears to have been dormant for the last few months.  Another blog called "Human-stupidity" appears to come from the political right wing (or libertarianism, I haven't taken a close enough look) in his views of irrational behavior.  And I cannot mention irrational behavior without also talking about the psychologist Albert Ellis, who targeted irrational ideas as the focus of his therapeutic work.

So how exactly do people exhibit irrationality?  This could be the subject of a long series of posts, if they ever get written.  But to spend my time on that right now would be irrational for me to do, in light of other demands on my time and energy.  In the meantime I'd like to direct you to the other resources mentioned above, and welcome hearing any of your thoughts on this subject in the comments.  I should mention that I don't think irrationality, on the face of it, is bad, but when it goes unnoticed  masquerading as rational behavior it can have very serious and harmful consequences.

Friday, July 16, 2010

The Dawkins experience

I arrived at Davis Concert Hall with my dad a full 15 minutes early, but I already knew it was going to be packed.  Cars were streaming onto campus and lines of people were converging upon the concert hall.  When we arrived at the doors we heard someone announce that the Hall was full and no more people were allowed to enter, however it would be webcast live in Greuning room 208.  We debated for a minute the value of attending a webcast, and decided to go.  The room filled to overflowing within five minutes, a second room across the hallway was opened as well.  For almost half an hour after the lecture started the overflow audience sat in frustration as we could only see the video of the lecture - the audio wasn't working.  As our last hope that the audio would be fixed faded, we left and headed back to Davis Concert Hall.  After deciding it would be too long to wait around until the lecture and Q&A session afterward ended to get Dawkins signature on our book, we left.  Thankfully on our way out we were told the media lab downstairs in the library had working video and audio for the webcast.  Having missed at least the first half hour of the lecture, we greatly enjoyed watching the second half, webcast in full fidelity.  Lots of good content, with some good natured humor intermixed!  When I get the chance, I will have to download and view the first half hour of the lecture I missed.  The Q&A took up the full hour allocated and afterwards I went to the book signing.  The line snaked almost entirely around the perimeter of the large lobby area outside of the Concert Hall.  The attendance and overflow for this lecture was the greatest I have ever personally seen at UAF, and has to have been one of the most successful lectures ever on campus.  Dawkins waived all his fees, including travel, hotel, and meals.  He is a very impressive speaker and critical thinker, and a truly inspirational figure, whether in person or via live webcast.  On the heels of his appearance at the Amazing! Meeting 8, I hope his time here in Fairbanks was an enjoyable experience.  I also hope the showing at his lecture did something to dispel the poor reputation Alaskans have gained in the global community, thanks in no small part to some of the politicians we have elected.  When he signed the copy of The God Delusion I have been reading, I thanked him and asked him to send my regards to PZ, and was given a warm smile of recognition in return. 

Monday, June 14, 2010

kill the buddha

Continuing the theme of the last few blog posts, I began with a discussion of systems of thought, and the philosophy of science.  Then continued with how apparently contradictory perspectives may in a sense all be right (anekantavada).  Next I identified several of Zhuangzi's allegories that illustrate the equality or fundamentally indistinguishable nature of things, and ask us "why should we be attached to any particular preference?"  Now I'd like to point out where Zen Buddhism intersects with these ideas.  Zen emphasizes direct perception of reality; words and ideas only get in the way.  With this approach, the methods of instruction are therefore unconventional.  Consider this quote from Linji:
Seekers of the Way, if you want to achieve the understanding according to the Law, don't be deceived by others and turn to [your thoughts] internally or [objects] externally.  Kill anything that you happen on.  Kill the Buddha if you happen to meet him.  Kill a patriarch or an arhat if you happen to meet him.  Kill your parents or relatives if you happen to meet them.  Only then can you be free, not bound by material things, and absolutely free and at ease. 
I think this may be the most shocking Zen koan (certainly one of the best known).  What other religion says "kill the founder" and shows no sign of remorse?  But this is, as he says, about emancipation from the obstacles that we place in our minds.  If I hold a particular opinion on a matter, or think this is right and that is wrong, then I have circumscribed my innate freedom.  Though they may be seen as a progression of thought, all three approaches to knowledge are unique and each has its virtues.  Zen is about realizing how the mind works, Taoism is about realizing how nature works, and anekantavada is just the doctrine of non-exclusivity.  It was due to Zen's emphasis on the mind that my Eastern philosophy teacher was attracted to it.  

I know too little about Zen koans, though it may be better to begin with a review of Feng Youlan's books on Chinese philosophy.  The shock value of koans like "kill the Buddha" is really wonderful.  I need shock value to grab the attention and interest of people who are distrustful, angry, and disillusioned... and who need to think; to grow and change.  I don't want to frighten or give the wrong idea however; violent imagery isn't really appropriate for all audiences.  Linji's lessons can be... strong medicine.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Three in the Morning

Anekantavada is very similar to the advice Xunzi gives in his chapter on dispelling obsession, which is also similar to the concept of wu wei (perhaps best espoused by Zhuangzi).  Zhuangzi's second chapter, The Equality of All Things (Qi Wu Lun), is short and bursting at the seams with wonderful passages like the following.  (It is easy to compare the story of the blind men and the elephant to this one.)
When we toil our spirits and intelligence, obstinately determined (to establish our own view), and do not know the agreement (which underlies it and the views of others), we have what may be called “three in the morning.”  What is meant by "three in the morning"? A monkey keeper once was giving out nuts and said, "Three in the morning and four in the evening."  All the monkeys became angry.  He said, "If that is the case, there will be four in the morning and three in the evening."  All the monkeys were glad.  Neither the name nor the actuality has been reduced but the monkeys reacted in joy and anger [differently].  The keeper also let things take their own course.  Therefore the sage harmonizes the right and wrong and rests in natural equilization.  This is called following two courses at the same time.
Here is a very cute animation (based on the graphic novelization of Chinese classics by Tsai Chih-chung) of Three In the Morning. Before this is viewed as simply a lesson in delayed gratification, and not as a lesson in the equality of different viewpoints/preferences, keep in mind that the story does not specify the time of day that the monkey keeper spoke to the monkeys.  It may have been in the morning or it may have been in the evening, meaning the monkeys could have received either the larger or smaller amounts of nuts first depending on what time it was.  Furthermore, we could imagine continuing the story where the monkey keeper has another group of monkeys, and having learned from his first negotiation, he offers this second group four in the morning and three in the evening.  Let us imagine that unlike the first group, they become angry at this suggestion (which had satisfied the first group) and are only appeased when he then offers three in the morning and four in the evening.  We could go on.  Perhaps a third group agrees instantly to the first offer he makes and there is no need for a counter offer, but you couldn't draw out the intended moral from such an agreeable group of monkeys!

Another passage that practically trivializes human differences (oversimplification?):
The "this" is also the "that."  The "that" is also the "this."  The "this" has one standard of right and wrong, and the "that" also has a standard of right and wrong.  Is there really a distinction between "that" and "this"?  Or is there really no distinction between "that" and "this"? 
This passage questions a basic assumption: that there are meaningful ethical differences between people or systems of thought.  The implied message appears to be that any differences are more superficial than fundamental.  But this passage alone (taken out of its context) in the end shies from asserting that claim.  Nothing escapes Zhuangzi's skepticism, which is elsewhere turned inward when he says "I have just said something, but I don't know if what I have said really says something or says nothing." and "When I say you were dreaming, I am also dreaming."  The next passage I have quoted below continues this trend:
Suppose you and I argue. If you beat me instead of my beating you, are you really right and am I really wrong? If I beat you instead of your beating me, am I really right and are you really wrong? Or are we both partly right and partly wrong? Or are we both wholly right and wholly wrong? Since between us neither you nor I know which is right, others are naturally in the dark. Whom shall we ask to arbitrate? If we ask someone who agrees with you, since he has already agreed with you, how can he arbitrate? If we ask someone who agrees with me, since he has already agreed with me, how can he arbitrate? If we ask someone who disagrees with both you and me to arbitrate, since he has already disagreed with you and me, how can he arbitrate? If we ask someone who agrees with both you and me to arbitrate, since has already agreed with you and me, how can he arbitrate? Thus among you, me, and others, none knows which is right. Shall we wait for still others?
I can almost hear the voice of my Eastern philosophy teacher rise and fall as he reads this. He loved this and often said "if I wasn't a Buddhist, I'd be a Taoist". Well, he was a Chan Buddhist, which was heavily influenced by Taoist philosophy, so he was able to have his cake and eat it too. I also love the spirit of this passage and the way Zhuangzi admits that even if it may seem that he is right, he may still be wrong after all. Who can say? Apparently nobody can. I imagine that if this passage was in Ecclesiastes (perhaps somewhere near chapter 12, verse 12), it would be quoted all the time!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Anekantavada

Have you heard the story of the blind men and an elephant?
In various versions of the tale, a group of blind men touch an elephant to learn what it is like. Each one touches a different part, but only one part, such as the side or the tusk. They then compare notes on what they felt, and learn they are in complete disagreement. The blind man who feels a leg says the elephant is like a tree; the one who feels the tail says the elephant is like a rope; the one who feels the trunk says the elephant is like a snake; the one who feels the ear says the elephant is like a fan; the one who feels the belly says the elephant is like a wall; and the one who feels the tusk says the elephant is like a spear. Each blind man has interesting and useful things to say, but what seems an absolute truth is relative due to where each blind man stands.  The story is used to indicate that reality may be viewed differently depending upon one's perspective.  
I used to say that the elephant was like a tree and a rope, then I only thought it was only like a tree and maybe sometimes like a snake, but now I think it is like all of them. Sometimes I even feel like I am "one with the elephant."  The interesting thing about elephants is that their characteristics are transient, and they are always moving around, so what they are like at one moment can be completely different at the next.  That's nature, but it can be accepted and even transcended when one takes the perspective of all perspectives, and realizes, as expressed by Wang Yang-ming, that "all things form one body".  The same sentiment is contained in the Western Inscription.  I take this to mean not only all things, as in material things, but also the contents of the mind.  In this union with everything, there is peace.  There's only one problem, I can't help feeling a little delusional writing "I am everything and nothing" in a blog entry. 

So the story of the blind men and an elephant is a very useful one, even if by itself unconvincing.  And elephants are just cool!  They are big, smart, and have one of the most awesome appendages in the animal kingdom - a trunk.  A trunk is so useful.  How many herbivorous animals without hands can paint on a canvas with a brush? 

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Religion, Science, and the inneffabile

[Note: Several statements in the first paragraph no longer reflect my current opinion, see the next entry above for an explanation.]

There are the things of the world we are able to sense directly or detect with sensitive apparatus, and the things we cannot.  Those things we can sense are useful in making and carrying out sound decisions, those things we cannot detect cannot be used for making sound decisions.  I think it is inappropriate to make decisions based on ideas that cannot be independently tested and confirmed.  One of the reasons I believe this is so that the rights of everyone are respected.  That way if someone asks "Why?" They can be given a reason that they can confirm or prove wrong.  Everyone can have a say, the facts are available for all.  Basically this means rules should have some basis in science.  Science sounds like a very modern idea, or even a futuristic one, but it's roots reach deep into the past.  It is a way of looking at the world much like philosophy, with curiosity and the willingness to learn new things.  It is the spirit of invention and creation.  It is useful, but has no ends other than those we give it. 

Can we detect everything?  It would be sheer hubris to say we can.  Laozi had a simple solution for this, what he could not detect could not be described.  It remains mysterious and ineffible.  There's nothing wrong with that.  Beauty is also mysterious.  We can choose whether or not we want to fear the unknown.  I think it is essential to the scientific and philosophical attitude to recognize the limitations of each endeavor, without negating the importance of their contributions, and for any person to reconsider their position if they find their claims to have exceeded their abilities regarding the subject on which they speak.  Right now, too much self interest and not enough science based explanations are used in decision making.

But then, one wonders if the sciences offer a consilinece of knowledge, as per E. O. Wilson, or if, as Feyerabend would have us believe, the actual condition is one of epistemological anarchy due to fundamental incommensurability.  It is liberating to realize the world cannot be seen through any one lens.  Though all are not equal, neither is one the best.  I had imagined there may be a theory of everything, but now I am not as sure.  Everything is unique and special, each experience and person is fundamentally different from the next.  I approach everything anew each time.  Doesn't reality resist categorization as much as I do?

Friday, February 12, 2010

existential angst, part III

The absolute freedom and responsibility we have is so pervasive it encompasses even the power to end our own lives.  And though we have so much freedom, we do not have anything essential or fixed within our nature to guide our choices (hedonistic desire alone is no longer sufficient).  If only we did!  This is the feeling of existential angst, a basic human condition.  In death alone, leaving all that one was behind, is one released from freedom, responsibility, and its attendant anxiety.  Hence, the greatest source of fear also becomes a fearful temptation that the imagination fantasizes in when the burden of responsibility overwhelms any rewards life presents.  Is this a method the mind uses to cope with stress?  I would postulate that, operating under the principle of enantiodromia, it does have a cathartic effect.  (To be sure, and mercifully so, for the uncompromised individual whose judgment is sound, and in light of the beauty and richness of continually unfolding human experience and the companionship of others, numerous other temporary and perfectly acceptable solutions are considered before taking any such permanent and irreversible action.  Robert Service presented another perspective as well.)

But what is the purpose of cathartic self-sacrifice when it may be more effective yet to reflect on the impermanent nature of life?  Nothing lives very long, really.  It is saddest of all for me to realize that my own children will grow up tomorrow, mature, and die as surely as do all other things.  As will my parents, my wife, and as will I.  I could try to realize this eventual fate as intimately today as it will be tomorrow to live an "authentic life".  From what may be regarded as the most appropriate of all perspectives, in a flash I am born, live, and die.  What freedom and responsibility I have now, is over in an instant.  And that instant is where I am right now.


Discontent
I have written before about dukkha, the Pali word for unsatisfactoriness, the condition of life identified by the Buddha. I had thought it was something to be prevented, an "avoidance goal" in effect. But as a basic condition, it really isn't something to be avoided or approached, it just is. In such a world the best that can be done really is to walk a middle path between extremes, keeping in mind a profound understanding of the pervasive quality of dukkha.

existential angst, part II

The example provided by Haufniensis (Kierkegaard), and often cited online, to explain the concept of existential angst is from his book The Concept of Anxiety: 
"Anxiety may be compared with dizziness.  He whose eye happens to look down into the yawning abyss becomes dizzy.  But what is the reason for this?  It is just as much in his own eye as in the abyss, for suppose he had not looked down.  Hence anxiety is the dizziness of freedom…"
- Kierkegaard, Søren (1980), The Concept of Anxiety, Princeton University Press, page 61
This selection alone says little about “the lure of vertigo” or how “the eye which looks down into the abyss both fears and desires it”.  (An earlier English translation of the book contains the word “precipice” in this section.)  The metaphor of “the fall” is rich, and John M. Hoberman in his essay "Kierkegaard on Vertigo" explores it very well.  After reading his essay I learned that Sartre adopted Kierkegaard’s example and gave it a slightly different meaning, the one that I, and most other people with a casual interest in philosophy, associate with it. 
"First we must acknowledge that Kierkegaard is right; anguish is distinguished from fear in that fear is fear of beings in the world whereas anguish is anguish before myself.  Vertigo is anguish to the extent that I am afraid of not falling over the precipice, but of throwing myself over.  A situation provokes fear if there is a possibility of my life being changed from without; my being provokes anguish to the extent that I distrust myself and my own reactions in that situation." 
- Sartre "Being and Nothingness" trans. pub. 1966 pg. 65 or 2001 pg. 29
Hoberman comments on this selection in his essay, further illuminating it:
"Sartre's primary interest is to show the fact of human freedom and the flight from freedom, the nostalgia of the for-itself for the condition of the in-itslf (a nonhuman stasis).  The temptation, as Kierkegaard points out in the second journal entry on vertigo, is to construe a pressure that comes from within as one that comes from without.  To avoid anguish and vertigo, says Sartre, it is necessary "that I apprehend in myself a strict psychological determinism."  Kierkegaard is far less interested both in the illusion that such a determinism represents and in the attendant wish to reify oneself.  It is not Kierkegaard but Sartre, with his affinity for images of petrification, whose gaze is transfixed by the Biblical "heart of stone."
This is exactly the meaning I took from the description of existential angst I read that was attributed to Kierkegaard, a description that may owe more to Sartre’s reworking of it (though that attribution seems largely absent online).  So it was very refreshing to find a citation I could locate within a work which confirmed my understanding of the concept.  It is hard to tell if Hoberman takes a dim view of Sartre here, though his language seems to suggest so.  But I agree with Sartre about the flight from freedom to a “in-itself” condition being a common human desire.  What else is this but existential angst?  I understand the desire to “apprehend in myself a strict psychological determinism” to avoid feeling that same existential angst.  (Religions address this desire, but inappropriately I believe.)  And I can see how imagining throwing myself over the precipice would be a quite effective way of reacting to the uneasy feeling of vertigo, the symbolic representation of existential angst.  Sartre seems to have certainly understood the need to grapple with these powerful internal feelings in a creative way. 
For an evaluation of Sartre's debt to Kierkegaard, see William McBride's "Sartre's Debts to Kierkegaard: A Partial Reckoning," in "Kierkegaard in Post/Modernity" ed. Martin Matustik and Merold Westphal 1995 pp. 18-42 [I have only seen this reference, but not read it.]

Monday, February 8, 2010

existential angst

The mere fact that one has the possibility and freedom to do something, even the most terrifying of possibilities, can trigger immense feelings of dread. Take for example the experience one has when standing on a cliff where one not only fears falling off it, but also dreads the possibility of throwing oneself off.  “I could throw myself off the cliff and nothing would stop me.  That thought is so terrifying that I wish it were not even possible.”  But the metaphor is more consoling than terrifying.  With nothing to hold me back, I have the freedom, the responsibility, to choose my own destiny.  I am always standing on the edge of a cliff gazing into the abyss.  I could end it all with just one step.  Or not.  The “cure” for existential anxiety, the terrifying feeling of absolute freedom, is found by facing it in its ultimate form – the freedom to choose between life and death.  Then we must make the choice to take responsibility for our own destiny and stop looking for external sources to compel us to act in one way or another.  Existential anxiety will never leave, it is a basic human condition.  And what better way to acknowledge it than this powerful metaphor.  You're always standing on the edge of a cliff, the freedom is terrifying.  But the terror brings with it a focused concentration and immediacy of experience that is lost if you recoil from it.

There is an odd mental process that can go on here, where someone is so afraid of one thing that they will do the opposite, even though they are fearful of that as well.  "If I throw myself over, then I don't have to worry about falling off."  That would release one from absolute freedom into the hands of fate.  The choice made is not responsible, but the burden of making it has been lifted and the desire for a predetermined destiny has been fulfilled.  For some, a bad future that is known is preferable to a future of free choices and individual responsibility. 

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Feuerbach

I came across a reference to Ludwig Andreas Feuerbach, and later read that he arrived at an interesting conclusion, which appears near the beginning of his book The Essence of Christianity, in Chapter 4, pages 52 and 53:
Who then is our Saviour and Redeemer? God or Love? Love; for God as God has not saved us, but Love, which transcends the difference between the divine and human personality. As God has renounced himself out of love, so we, out of love, should renounce God; for if we do not sacrifice God to love, we sacrifice love to God, and in spite of the predicate of love, we have the God—the evil being—of religious fanaticism.
Years ago I renounced religion when my attempts to defend Christianity against a growing sense of personal integrity had been strained to the breaking point. I found that all that mattered in religious faith was love. So here I agree with Feuerbach - all actions must reflect the value of love, no harmful actions should be committed in the name of unsupportable belief. Though to many this sounds like heresy, to me it is the fulfillment of the ethical impulse guided by faith, and virtually axiomatic.

In other news, I have replaced my "To do" list with a "Will I do?" list, which better acknowledges the uncertain outcome of my intentions. The future is full of irresistible questions.


Some people explain their religious faith as founded upon a personal relationship with God which, of course, one must have in order to properly understand and debate upon its merits. I could say that my reasons for not believing in God are also based on a personal relationship, not a relationship with God, but a personal relationship with real people like you and me. But rhetoric does little to sway opinion, while personal experience is given the greatest weight.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

An existential view of society

At the risk of committing the sin of psychological projection, I have entertained the idea that corruption exists at all levels in business and politics.  This isn't a new idea (for examples in popular culture see Moore's latest documentary "Capitalism"), and is largely accepted anyway.  It forms a large portion of media coverage.  But it is also easy to overlook since it is less transparent in some situations than others.  Just the other day I was talking with a co-worker about the TV series "Weeds" and the character of the corupt mayor came up.  It was a perfect example in fiction.

In support of this I might allude to a Hobbesian discourse on how life is "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short," which is true some of the time, but not in all cases.  Or I could quote Orson Welles who is reputed to have said “We`re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we`re not alone.”  I think it would be a mistake to take that literally, I believe he means more of psychological isolation and aloneness experienced as a consequence of the generally, and often unintentionally, egocentric behavior of most people.  I have found it very true that only you can make your values manifest through your actions, nobody else can or will do it for you. 

Would a habit of having a cynical opinion of the motives and behavior of other people really just conceal my own desire to improve, by comparison, the regard in which I hold myself?  In other words, lift myself up by putting you down?  Would that thereby also improve my ability to justify, again by comparison, my own behavior or misbehavior?  To these questions I answer: I don't think so, as cynicism pervades all thought and the cynical person's opinion of themselves is not immune to the same skepticism directed at others.  But one benefit from recognizing the actual pervasiveness of corrupt and/or egocentric behavior is realizing that the professed standards of conduct and actual standards of conduct people (and businesses and governments) live by are two different things.  This could eliminate some of the social anxiety that can accompany a fear of not meeting the professed standards of conduct.  In reality few, if any people, ever do. 

Having written all that, I must state for the record that I think people are generally good.  Or at least we try to be.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

comparative awareness

Today I was thinking about evolutionary psychology, which seems not too far removed from the philosophy and theory of mind. It all began late last night, when I read that pulmonate snails and vetigastropod snails are less closely related to each other than I am to a goldfish. Talk about a shift in perspective!

It is common knowledge that experiments with lab mice are useful to understanding basic physiological processes that humans and mice share in common, and thankfully there are quite a few of those (or the experiments would be far less useful).  It is an unavoidable conclusion that if I am so closely related to goldfish, I am surely much more closely related to mice. Yet obviously mice and humans are very different. But what constitutes that difference? I think it is the more developed neural circuitry and complex behavior that most distinguishes me from a goldfish or mouse, more so than any anatomically evolved traits. In other words, whether or not I can formulate the thoughts for making this blog entry is more significant than whether I have hands or I am covered in gold scales and live in a fishbowl. To the point: If complex behavior distinguishes me from a goldfish better than physical form, perhaps it is a more useful tool for distinguishing animals.

Is it possible to quantifiably compare the mental experiences of two different organisms? Is thought a scalable function, and does each conscious being fall somewhere on a "continuum of thinking"? Is there an "evolution of thought" describable with a "taxonomy of mind"? Does it make sense to talk about a classification of awareness or neural functioning within the context of evolutionary psychology? I don't have an answer to any of these potentially illuminating questions.  In the final assessment, this chain of speculation may be a dead end, as speaking of conscious thought may have little utility outside of a handful of organisms, and even among those it may only have marginal utility.  Evolutionary psychology is a field of study originally concerned with humans and our immediate ancestry, not much else.  Consider this entry by PZ Myers on the relative insignificance of intelligence from a biological perspective. 


A few days ago I was pondering "What does it mean to be a father? How does that position shape my understanding of myself and my relationship to everything else?" From an evolutionary psychology perspective, this is a developmental question. I became a father after first being a child, and this question would have made little sense to me 20 years ago, but today it is very relevant and influences my conscious understanding of the world. As I grow older this understanding will continue to be informed and shaped by new and changing conditions, forcing me to grow and adapt. Conscious thought is so maleable and fragile, any approach at placing it within a taxonomic system would have to be very different from classification techniques based on physiological and genetic markers.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Buddhism Without Beliefs

I finished reading "Buddhism Without Beliefs" a few days ago.  In the first chapter Stephen Batchelor explained how the four truths Gautama taught (understanding anguish, letting go of its origins, realizing its cessation, and cultivating the path) is the process of awakening "unfolding in your own mind at this moment".  Awakening is a process, not a thing to be attained. It is "an authentic way of being in the world", not a lofty goal.  Equally important is understanding that:
"This trajectory is no linear sequence of "stages" through which we "progress."  We do not leave behind an earlier stage in order to advance to the next rung of some hierarchy.  All four activities are part of a single continuum of action."
I think I understand how this may be.  To give an example, I can confront the anguish of one situation and deal with it, but that does not mean I have defeated all possible sources of anguish in my life once and for all.  It will reappear again and again in different forms, and every time I will employ each of these four phases Gautama taught.  And though it may be possible to engage in one of them without the others, it would be a very unbalanced and ineffective approach.  This irreducible quality of the four noble truths is good at combating obsession, so it is nice to see it here.  Not merely an article of faith, they are something to be acted upon (and tested first).

Monday, October 26, 2009

A carnival of Eastern things

I have begun to read Stephen Batchelor's book "Buddhism Without Beleifs".  So far I have been impressed by his erudition.  It is telling that he has attracted his share of criticism as well.  In an article by John Horgan for Slate, he asks Batchelor why he should even bother calling himself Buddhist at all, since he doesn't go in for all the supernatural stuff anyway.  Good question.  But I think it is the pride of tradition combined with the relative difficulty of transplanting the Buddhist value system into another ethical framework.  No sense in doing that without good reason. 

I really like the look of shou-sugi-ban (焼杉板) or "burnt wood siding" ever since I saw it in an issue of Dwell magazine describing the work of Terunobu Fujimori.  It would look nice on a garage (buildings which have become by default the modern equivalent of a shed or barn).  With a shed roof to match my house it would look very nice.  Maybe a small water heater, insulation, vapor barrier, and attached three season greenhouse?   

Any independent scholars out there that would care to write a paper for the ISCSC?  I know the receiving editor and they have a list of suggestions to get your creative juices flowing.