Wednesday, 28 October 2009
11. God is an Atheist
Is God an atheist? By "God", lets understand a being with the sort of qualities traditionally ascribed to him by orthodox Christian interpretations; namely, all knowing, all powerful, all present, all that kind of stuff. On the standard Christian definition, there is nothing that God doesn’t know. God does not need to question where he came from or whether a higher or greater power caused his existence. An omniscient God has no existential dilemmas and, hence, has no room for – or need of – faith. Fundamental to the definition of an atheist is the idea of "being without faith". Ergo, God is an atheist. Who'd have thought it?
Friday, 23 October 2009
10. BNP & Freedom of Speech
Should they or shouldn’t they have done it? That’s the question revolving around the BBC’s decision to let right-wing hate-mongerer Nick Griffin get pilloried on Question Time this week.
Peter Hain’s no-doubt well-intentioned objections are, unfortunately, hypocritical and unjustifiable, just as Thatcher’s banning of Gerry Adams’ voice in the 1980s was. If you want to live in a free and fair democracy, then objecting to elected MPs having the same freedoms of expression as everyone else just because you don’t like their views suggests you are insincere about freedom and fairness, or you just don’t get it. In either case, it is Hain rather than Griffin that should be objected to. I don’t like a lot of things politicians say, but so long as they say them within the bounds of the law, then the only answer is to either change the law, or accept that it is a consequence of your own right to speak your mind. I am far more fearful of people who want to suppress the right to free speech than I am of people who want to say things I don't agree with.
In any case, refusing to let Griffin appear on Question Time would only have given him greater credibility. Letting fools expose themselves for what they are is one of the benefits of freedom of speech.
Peter Hain’s no-doubt well-intentioned objections are, unfortunately, hypocritical and unjustifiable, just as Thatcher’s banning of Gerry Adams’ voice in the 1980s was. If you want to live in a free and fair democracy, then objecting to elected MPs having the same freedoms of expression as everyone else just because you don’t like their views suggests you are insincere about freedom and fairness, or you just don’t get it. In either case, it is Hain rather than Griffin that should be objected to. I don’t like a lot of things politicians say, but so long as they say them within the bounds of the law, then the only answer is to either change the law, or accept that it is a consequence of your own right to speak your mind. I am far more fearful of people who want to suppress the right to free speech than I am of people who want to say things I don't agree with.
In any case, refusing to let Griffin appear on Question Time would only have given him greater credibility. Letting fools expose themselves for what they are is one of the benefits of freedom of speech.
9. Aliens and Predators
Space, to quote Bill Bryson’s ‘A Short History of Nearly Everything’, is enormous. Average distance between one sun and another? 30 million million klicks. Looks like the chances of our universe being populated with other life forms is slim, right? Wrong.
According to Francis Drake, the maths actually works the other way around. Take a single galaxy, estimate the total number of stars in that galaxy and divide that by the number that have planetary systems. Divide that again by the number of planets in those systems that might possibly support life. Divide that again by a worst-case guess of how many might get microbial life to evolve to something recognizable as ‘intelligent’ life.
Doesn’t matter how pessimistic you make these figures, according to Drake, the number of possible planets in which intelligent life could have arisen in just a single galaxy is statistically in the millions. Multiply that by the number of estimated galaxies in the universe, around 80 billion, and you have a mathematical certainty that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe.
The big question is, will they be more like Alien, Predator or Transformers?
According to Francis Drake, the maths actually works the other way around. Take a single galaxy, estimate the total number of stars in that galaxy and divide that by the number that have planetary systems. Divide that again by the number of planets in those systems that might possibly support life. Divide that again by a worst-case guess of how many might get microbial life to evolve to something recognizable as ‘intelligent’ life.
Doesn’t matter how pessimistic you make these figures, according to Drake, the number of possible planets in which intelligent life could have arisen in just a single galaxy is statistically in the millions. Multiply that by the number of estimated galaxies in the universe, around 80 billion, and you have a mathematical certainty that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe.
The big question is, will they be more like Alien, Predator or Transformers?
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
8. The ‘Men are from Mars’ silliness...
Not surprisingly, the whole ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’ plot is a load of old cobblers according to real psychologists. Quack psychobabbler John Gray was the first to hit the big time with this kind of book, but his was quickly followed by a whole bunch of copycats, the best known runner up being ‘Why Men Don’t Listen and Women Can’t Read Maps’, but the real psychologists (the ones that have to make their living backing up their theories with academically credible evidence) have pretty much scoffed at all Gray’s ideas.
One of the central ideas of Gray’s book is that men and women squabble because they are effectively speaking for two different reasons (like aliens from different planets, they just can’t make sense of what the other is on about). When Olive says ‘she’s sick of doing the ironing’ , Popeye chucks down a can of spinach and invents the frictionless ironing board. Instead of being grateful, Olive slaps his mush and calls him a dolt before storming off into the larder for a good old sob. Popeye scratches his head in bewilderment....
Gray tells us it’s all because Olive didn’t want a 'solution', she wanted a sympathetic ear. No problem with that. The trouble comes when Gray generalises this to all women, all men and all arguments. In fact, researchers have found out that men and women’s reasons for communicating problems are the same – both sometimes just want to unload, both sometimes just want something to get fixed.
Gray will also have his readers believe that men like pretty young lasses because its programmed into their genes that way. The researchers point out that if looks were the number one determining factor, there should be an evolutionary link between being a "hottie" and reproductive success: in short, fit girls should have more babies. Not so, say the scientists. There is no correspondence between fertility and physical appearance. Equally, the idea that women are genetically determined to prefer older men with more resources to ensure the security of their offspring is also scratched off the list of likely truths. It’s a trend that’s only found in societies where women are less wealthy and less well-educated. In modern Western societies, the trend has wholly disappeared, proving that the cause is circumstantial rather than genetic.
Despite making a mint from selling millions of copies of his books, turns out that Gray got his celestial geography wrong: men are from Earth, and women are too.
One of the central ideas of Gray’s book is that men and women squabble because they are effectively speaking for two different reasons (like aliens from different planets, they just can’t make sense of what the other is on about). When Olive says ‘she’s sick of doing the ironing’ , Popeye chucks down a can of spinach and invents the frictionless ironing board. Instead of being grateful, Olive slaps his mush and calls him a dolt before storming off into the larder for a good old sob. Popeye scratches his head in bewilderment....
Gray tells us it’s all because Olive didn’t want a 'solution', she wanted a sympathetic ear. No problem with that. The trouble comes when Gray generalises this to all women, all men and all arguments. In fact, researchers have found out that men and women’s reasons for communicating problems are the same – both sometimes just want to unload, both sometimes just want something to get fixed.
Gray will also have his readers believe that men like pretty young lasses because its programmed into their genes that way. The researchers point out that if looks were the number one determining factor, there should be an evolutionary link between being a "hottie" and reproductive success: in short, fit girls should have more babies. Not so, say the scientists. There is no correspondence between fertility and physical appearance. Equally, the idea that women are genetically determined to prefer older men with more resources to ensure the security of their offspring is also scratched off the list of likely truths. It’s a trend that’s only found in societies where women are less wealthy and less well-educated. In modern Western societies, the trend has wholly disappeared, proving that the cause is circumstantial rather than genetic.
Despite making a mint from selling millions of copies of his books, turns out that Gray got his celestial geography wrong: men are from Earth, and women are too.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
7. What is ‘being moral’?
Oh, how the philosophers love to argue about this one. It all started with Socrates (see Plato’s works ‘Protagoras’, ‘Meno’ and ‘The Republic’ in particular). Much later in the West, the humanistic turn of the enlightenment needed to find an alternative to the idea that being moral was following divine commandments. Two competing theories captured attention: Kantianism and Utilitariansim.
The ‘twitter’ version of each: Immanuel Kant thought being moral is acting rationally. Human beings are distinct from other creatures by having reason. Therefore, to be immoral is irrational and subhuman. John Stuart Mill thought what is moral is that which increases the well-being (‘happiness’) of the majority of affected parties. Immoral actions cause greater suffering to more people than moral ones.
Barely stated, Mill’s theory does not address the question ‘why be moral?’ If you don’t care about others, immorality is in your best interests. For that reason, he tried to link collective well-being with individual well-being (‘what’s good for everybody is good for me’), most think unsuccessfully. Kant’s theory only bites if you buy the idea that rationality is your defining characteristic and benchmark for action (a bit anachronistic these days).
Back in the 21st Century, a lot of philosophers think that ‘being moral’ essentially revolves around the notion of impartiality (considering everyone equally). They also think the question ‘why be moral?’ is misconceived. You can’t justify selfless behaviour on selfish grounds (i.e., ‘You should think about others because it will have this benefit for yourself...’ is to misunderstand what morality is all about, they say).
Not surprisingly, I disagree with everybody. Ethical behaviour is not impartial behaviour (treating everyone equally), but fair behaviour (treating everyone fairly). It is the principled ordering of partialities (having consistent reasons for weighing some people’s interests as counting for more in some situations, but not in others). Although you might be grateful, you would think it odd (and presumably would not do the same) if I left my own children to burn in a fire in order to rescue yours for some Mr Spockian logical reason. It would be both moral and reasonable to give greater preference to my own children first.
This can easily be justified: a society that did not value parents’ protective preference for their own offspring would probably be less functional than one that did (digression but one of my pet subjects: compare the breakdown of family values in the West and the resultant social problems with the strong family ties and social cohesion in many Asian communities).
If by ‘moral’ we mean ‘having consistent reasons for weighing some people’s interests as counting for more in some situations, but not in others’, then we are all moral to the extent that we share and apply the same set of values. This provokes questions about moral relativity (are competing moral value systems equally ‘moral’? Can one person have consistent reasons that are out of tune with the rest of their society? Won't all criteria for disallowing some sets of consistent reasons sneak in moral prejudices somewhere along the line? – the short answer to all these is: no.), a subject I’ll return to in later posts.
The ‘twitter’ version of each: Immanuel Kant thought being moral is acting rationally. Human beings are distinct from other creatures by having reason. Therefore, to be immoral is irrational and subhuman. John Stuart Mill thought what is moral is that which increases the well-being (‘happiness’) of the majority of affected parties. Immoral actions cause greater suffering to more people than moral ones.
Barely stated, Mill’s theory does not address the question ‘why be moral?’ If you don’t care about others, immorality is in your best interests. For that reason, he tried to link collective well-being with individual well-being (‘what’s good for everybody is good for me’), most think unsuccessfully. Kant’s theory only bites if you buy the idea that rationality is your defining characteristic and benchmark for action (a bit anachronistic these days).
Back in the 21st Century, a lot of philosophers think that ‘being moral’ essentially revolves around the notion of impartiality (considering everyone equally). They also think the question ‘why be moral?’ is misconceived. You can’t justify selfless behaviour on selfish grounds (i.e., ‘You should think about others because it will have this benefit for yourself...’ is to misunderstand what morality is all about, they say).
Not surprisingly, I disagree with everybody. Ethical behaviour is not impartial behaviour (treating everyone equally), but fair behaviour (treating everyone fairly). It is the principled ordering of partialities (having consistent reasons for weighing some people’s interests as counting for more in some situations, but not in others). Although you might be grateful, you would think it odd (and presumably would not do the same) if I left my own children to burn in a fire in order to rescue yours for some Mr Spockian logical reason. It would be both moral and reasonable to give greater preference to my own children first.
This can easily be justified: a society that did not value parents’ protective preference for their own offspring would probably be less functional than one that did (digression but one of my pet subjects: compare the breakdown of family values in the West and the resultant social problems with the strong family ties and social cohesion in many Asian communities).
If by ‘moral’ we mean ‘having consistent reasons for weighing some people’s interests as counting for more in some situations, but not in others’, then we are all moral to the extent that we share and apply the same set of values. This provokes questions about moral relativity (are competing moral value systems equally ‘moral’? Can one person have consistent reasons that are out of tune with the rest of their society? Won't all criteria for disallowing some sets of consistent reasons sneak in moral prejudices somewhere along the line? – the short answer to all these is: no.), a subject I’ll return to in later posts.
6. Impossible Feats
Some years ago, Leon Gast produced a movie called ‘When We Were Kings’. The movie tells, in a documentary fashion that is, neverthelss, full of emotional drama – the story of the title fight for the World Heavyweight Boxing Championship held in Zaire in 1974. The fight is between Muhammed Ali, in his thirties and past his prime, and George Foreman – young, fearless and devastatingly powerful. Foreman was the reigning champion of the world and had demolished with ease all the best fighters in the game – some of whom Ali had recently fought and struggled to beat. All the fight commentators had Foreman picked to win the fight. What made them so pessimistic for Ali’s chances was the sheer power of Foreman’s swings, demonstrated graphically in the film by the melon-sized indentations left in the heavy punchbag after Foreman’s workouts.
Ali, in typical style, was talking himself up, but no one believed he was a match for Foreman. He had neither the power nor the skill to outbox the younger man. Ali’s trademark ability to ‘dance’ around the ring may have secured him victories earlier in his career, but Foreman had already proved he could ‘cut off the ring’ – in other words, corner the ‘dancing’ fighter – against other opponents. In the energy-sapping heat of Zaire, dancing would see Ali tire even quicker than his younger opponent. Nobody believed, not even Ali’s own camp if Gast’s film is accurate, that Ali’s ‘dancing’ skills would save him from a terrible beating at the hands of Foreman.
But Ali didn’t dance; he stood toe-to-toe with Foreman in the first round and threw long rights over the top of Foreman’s jab. It is, as commentator Norman Mailer said, a great insult to throw this kind of punch at a professional boxer. Since the right hand is normally cocked behind the leading jabbing hand, it has to travel a lot further to land on the opponent. Professional boxers don’t use long rights without jabbing first – it’s too easy for anyone, save the rank amateur, to see them coming. Forsaking the jab, Ali threw twelve long rights in the first round of the bout for Heavyweight Champion of the World. Foreman, who had probably never encountered this technique in a professional fight, was clearly surprised though hardly outmanoeuvred; instead, no doubt feeling that Ali was treating him with great disrespect, he went wild with rage.
It was, to say the least, a risky tactic on Ali’s part. Knowing the power of Foreman’s punches, one would think enraging him would be the worst possible thing to do. But rage, Ali knew, is like a storm – it blows itself out. All Ali had to do was weather the storm.
After the first round, Ali stopped using the long right, but he kept up the disrespect. Verbally haranguing Foreman when the fighters got in close, claiming Foreman’s punches were soft, that he had no power, that he would have to concede to the better man, Ali drove Foreman’s rage to the full extent of the man’s physical limit. Eventually, Foreman’s rage and the hot African night took its toll. By the 8th round, Foreman was exhausted. Ali threw a blistering combination that felled the World Champion flat to the canvas. Muhammed Ali, at the age of thirty two, was Champion of the World again.
It is a David and Goliath story; an heroic story of the underdog whose determination to make the world conform to his own will defeats the world’s implacable resistance to change. Foreman was bigger, stronger, harder, younger; these were facts that no one, including Ali, disputed. But Ali ignored the facts. He made an image in his mind and brought it into reality in spite of the facts.
How did he do it? We all try to imagine things otherwise than they are from time to time, but hardly do we have the success that Ali had in reshaping the world to fit with our desires.
Of course, on one level, it is easy to analyse what Ali did. He went to great lengths to prepare his body for the brutal beating he knew Foreman would dish out; by using the long right, or ‘the right-hand lead’ as it is known amongst boxers, he found a clever way to shock Foreman out of his pre-match gameplan, strategy and mental poise. By continually chipping away at Foreman with jibes, he kept the man’s mental focus off-balance. Keeping Foreman angrily swinging huge broadsides while Ali lay on the ropes covering up made the African heat work for the older and against the younger man.
But Ali still had to endure Foreman’s prodigious power; he still had to weather eight rounds of brutal punching. Indeed, that which made Foreman’s victory seem certain – his immense power – was the very thing Ali chose to face head on and defeat. It was only by facing Foreman’s power and surviving it – not trying to avoid it or ameliorate it – that Ali could dent Foreman’s own psychological determination to win the fight.
Had Ali tried to avoid or match Foreman’s punching power, he would certainly have lost. Foreman would have held steady to his belief that his punching would catch Ali off-guard at some point. Only by demonstrating that Foreman had no power could Ali undermine Foreman’s confidence. The more Ali jibed that Foreman’s punches ‘weren’t even breaking popcorn’, the more Foreman had to retreat into his rage and swing heavier and heavier punches to prove himself.
But prove himself to whom? Foreman was not trying to prove himself to Ali, or to the fight audience, or the millions of people watching live on TV. Foreman was trying to prove himself to himself. This was the genius of Ali’s strategy: he took away Foreman’s power by making the stronger man doubt himself.
Where do you get the courage to do what Ali did? Where do you find the mental strength to face the very thing you fear the most? According to some reports, Foreman’s trainers were praying that he would not kill Ali in the ring, so mismatched did they – and many others – believe the contest was. What, then, made Ali risk his life to face the very thing that he should avoid most? Where did he find the willpower, the guts, the courage, to stand up to the man whom everyone else said could not possibly be beaten?
In Gast’s movie, Ali tells us himself where his courage to face Foreman came from; in short, from his belief in Allah. But we don’t have to believe in the existence of God to acknowledge that Ali’s courage, and therefore his victory, was directly attributable to his belief in God. This belief gave Ali something George Foreman didn’t have – the belief in something other than himself. Foreman’s belief in himself revolved around his belief in his power; but Ali took away that belief and in doing so he took away that power. Could Foreman have taken away Ali’s power in a similar way? It is hard to see how, for Ali’s belief was not in himself, but in something that Foreman couldn’t touch, no mattter what he said or did in the ring.
Ali, in typical style, was talking himself up, but no one believed he was a match for Foreman. He had neither the power nor the skill to outbox the younger man. Ali’s trademark ability to ‘dance’ around the ring may have secured him victories earlier in his career, but Foreman had already proved he could ‘cut off the ring’ – in other words, corner the ‘dancing’ fighter – against other opponents. In the energy-sapping heat of Zaire, dancing would see Ali tire even quicker than his younger opponent. Nobody believed, not even Ali’s own camp if Gast’s film is accurate, that Ali’s ‘dancing’ skills would save him from a terrible beating at the hands of Foreman.
But Ali didn’t dance; he stood toe-to-toe with Foreman in the first round and threw long rights over the top of Foreman’s jab. It is, as commentator Norman Mailer said, a great insult to throw this kind of punch at a professional boxer. Since the right hand is normally cocked behind the leading jabbing hand, it has to travel a lot further to land on the opponent. Professional boxers don’t use long rights without jabbing first – it’s too easy for anyone, save the rank amateur, to see them coming. Forsaking the jab, Ali threw twelve long rights in the first round of the bout for Heavyweight Champion of the World. Foreman, who had probably never encountered this technique in a professional fight, was clearly surprised though hardly outmanoeuvred; instead, no doubt feeling that Ali was treating him with great disrespect, he went wild with rage.
It was, to say the least, a risky tactic on Ali’s part. Knowing the power of Foreman’s punches, one would think enraging him would be the worst possible thing to do. But rage, Ali knew, is like a storm – it blows itself out. All Ali had to do was weather the storm.
After the first round, Ali stopped using the long right, but he kept up the disrespect. Verbally haranguing Foreman when the fighters got in close, claiming Foreman’s punches were soft, that he had no power, that he would have to concede to the better man, Ali drove Foreman’s rage to the full extent of the man’s physical limit. Eventually, Foreman’s rage and the hot African night took its toll. By the 8th round, Foreman was exhausted. Ali threw a blistering combination that felled the World Champion flat to the canvas. Muhammed Ali, at the age of thirty two, was Champion of the World again.
It is a David and Goliath story; an heroic story of the underdog whose determination to make the world conform to his own will defeats the world’s implacable resistance to change. Foreman was bigger, stronger, harder, younger; these were facts that no one, including Ali, disputed. But Ali ignored the facts. He made an image in his mind and brought it into reality in spite of the facts.
How did he do it? We all try to imagine things otherwise than they are from time to time, but hardly do we have the success that Ali had in reshaping the world to fit with our desires.
Of course, on one level, it is easy to analyse what Ali did. He went to great lengths to prepare his body for the brutal beating he knew Foreman would dish out; by using the long right, or ‘the right-hand lead’ as it is known amongst boxers, he found a clever way to shock Foreman out of his pre-match gameplan, strategy and mental poise. By continually chipping away at Foreman with jibes, he kept the man’s mental focus off-balance. Keeping Foreman angrily swinging huge broadsides while Ali lay on the ropes covering up made the African heat work for the older and against the younger man.
But Ali still had to endure Foreman’s prodigious power; he still had to weather eight rounds of brutal punching. Indeed, that which made Foreman’s victory seem certain – his immense power – was the very thing Ali chose to face head on and defeat. It was only by facing Foreman’s power and surviving it – not trying to avoid it or ameliorate it – that Ali could dent Foreman’s own psychological determination to win the fight.
Had Ali tried to avoid or match Foreman’s punching power, he would certainly have lost. Foreman would have held steady to his belief that his punching would catch Ali off-guard at some point. Only by demonstrating that Foreman had no power could Ali undermine Foreman’s confidence. The more Ali jibed that Foreman’s punches ‘weren’t even breaking popcorn’, the more Foreman had to retreat into his rage and swing heavier and heavier punches to prove himself.
But prove himself to whom? Foreman was not trying to prove himself to Ali, or to the fight audience, or the millions of people watching live on TV. Foreman was trying to prove himself to himself. This was the genius of Ali’s strategy: he took away Foreman’s power by making the stronger man doubt himself.
Where do you get the courage to do what Ali did? Where do you find the mental strength to face the very thing you fear the most? According to some reports, Foreman’s trainers were praying that he would not kill Ali in the ring, so mismatched did they – and many others – believe the contest was. What, then, made Ali risk his life to face the very thing that he should avoid most? Where did he find the willpower, the guts, the courage, to stand up to the man whom everyone else said could not possibly be beaten?
In Gast’s movie, Ali tells us himself where his courage to face Foreman came from; in short, from his belief in Allah. But we don’t have to believe in the existence of God to acknowledge that Ali’s courage, and therefore his victory, was directly attributable to his belief in God. This belief gave Ali something George Foreman didn’t have – the belief in something other than himself. Foreman’s belief in himself revolved around his belief in his power; but Ali took away that belief and in doing so he took away that power. Could Foreman have taken away Ali’s power in a similar way? It is hard to see how, for Ali’s belief was not in himself, but in something that Foreman couldn’t touch, no mattter what he said or did in the ring.
5. Democracy
It doesn't take much more than a scan through the morning papers to see that almost everything going on these days is a global problem. Here's a list in no particular order
i. global warming
ii. terrorism
ii. oil shortages
iii. food & water shortages
iv. migration & immigration
v. hard drugs
vi. the economy
vii. Problems i to vi are inter-related and co-dependent for a solution.
The kind of real changes that must occur to solve these problems will always be deeply unpopular. Talk about saving the environment is replaced with protest against economic recession. Fear of terrorist atrocities is replaced with complaints about scans and searches at airports.
Democracy has always been schizophrenic, but two things have made it untenable in the modern world. The first is the global nature of the problems we face. The second is rapid mass communication. Democracy and nation-state politics mean every government fights in the interests of its own elected position and in the interests of it own people to the detriment of all else, including the future of the planet. While politicians cut and paste policies to fit the fickle whims of a wired public, global problems continue to spiral out of control while nothing gets done, or at any rate, while not enough gets done fast enough.
There is only one logical conclusion, and that is a seriously proper World Government (that excludes the UN by definition). Since no elected representative could be trusted not to sell their integrity for their position, a non-democratic model is the only practical one. Singapore has long thrived without democracy, proving that something approaching 'benign dictatorship' is possible. The Chinese are discovering it, and are likely to become and remain the world's largest Superpower long after the West has fallen into a new Dark Age.
i. global warming
ii. terrorism
ii. oil shortages
iii. food & water shortages
iv. migration & immigration
v. hard drugs
vi. the economy
vii. Problems i to vi are inter-related and co-dependent for a solution.
The kind of real changes that must occur to solve these problems will always be deeply unpopular. Talk about saving the environment is replaced with protest against economic recession. Fear of terrorist atrocities is replaced with complaints about scans and searches at airports.
Democracy has always been schizophrenic, but two things have made it untenable in the modern world. The first is the global nature of the problems we face. The second is rapid mass communication. Democracy and nation-state politics mean every government fights in the interests of its own elected position and in the interests of it own people to the detriment of all else, including the future of the planet. While politicians cut and paste policies to fit the fickle whims of a wired public, global problems continue to spiral out of control while nothing gets done, or at any rate, while not enough gets done fast enough.
There is only one logical conclusion, and that is a seriously proper World Government (that excludes the UN by definition). Since no elected representative could be trusted not to sell their integrity for their position, a non-democratic model is the only practical one. Singapore has long thrived without democracy, proving that something approaching 'benign dictatorship' is possible. The Chinese are discovering it, and are likely to become and remain the world's largest Superpower long after the West has fallen into a new Dark Age.
4. Persons
What is a person? Apparently, having a mind is neither necessary nor sufficient. New-borns don’t have minds yet, but they are entitled to the same rights of protection under the law as other people. Higher primates also appear to have minds (see ‘Monkeys with Money’), but don’t get the same rights as human babies.
According to Peter Strawson, ('Individuals' 1956), 'person' is a logical category that can't be reduced to either purely physical or purely mental properties; rather, any explanation of the term 'person' will necessarily need to make use of both physical and mental properties.
Hardly ground-breaking stuff to Freddie B chucking down a fat-laden full-English brekki while musing on the meaning of life, you might think. However, its correlate is that at least some mental properties are necessarily bound to having a body. The good news is we can all stop fearing those ghosts in the graveyard - the rule is: no body, no mind.
According to Peter Strawson, ('Individuals' 1956), 'person' is a logical category that can't be reduced to either purely physical or purely mental properties; rather, any explanation of the term 'person' will necessarily need to make use of both physical and mental properties.
Hardly ground-breaking stuff to Freddie B chucking down a fat-laden full-English brekki while musing on the meaning of life, you might think. However, its correlate is that at least some mental properties are necessarily bound to having a body. The good news is we can all stop fearing those ghosts in the graveyard - the rule is: no body, no mind.
3. Minds
Strangely, philosophers have often wondered whether anyone other than themselves have a mind. Luckily, they’ve all concluded that they're not alone.
The trouble comes in trying to justify the grounds on which this conclusion is based. Cognitive experience (‘having a mind’) can only be had from the privileged position of within one’s own mind. Belief that others have it too is an inference based on shared behaviour, physical form, origins and language.
Still, particularly if you believe strongly that God exists, it is logically possible that you are the only finitely conscious being (presumably the solipsist philosopher doesn’t imagine being God himself, or he would know the answer to his own question. The thought that the answers to some questions might be hidden from God’s infinitely conscious mind would belie the belief that the solipsist is God). The question, then, would be why would God do that? And, more importantly, who is going to be interested in the philosopher’s writings?
The trouble comes in trying to justify the grounds on which this conclusion is based. Cognitive experience (‘having a mind’) can only be had from the privileged position of within one’s own mind. Belief that others have it too is an inference based on shared behaviour, physical form, origins and language.
Still, particularly if you believe strongly that God exists, it is logically possible that you are the only finitely conscious being (presumably the solipsist philosopher doesn’t imagine being God himself, or he would know the answer to his own question. The thought that the answers to some questions might be hidden from God’s infinitely conscious mind would belie the belief that the solipsist is God). The question, then, would be why would God do that? And, more importantly, who is going to be interested in the philosopher’s writings?
2. Religion
God’s marketing departments run a number of competing promotional campaigns. It’s really beyond the philosopher’s logical brain to understand how this can do anything but harm the credibility of the product. Surely, if God exists, he would
a. have no need of a marketing department; and
b. would not allow them to promote an inconsistent message that’s only going to hurt sales.
(Incidentally, making lists is a philosopher’s third favourite thing to do.]
Religious practice and religious institutions have one important philosophical function, which has little to do with either truth or credibility but more to do with being a kind of social authority broad enough to bear the responsibility of dealing with the gravitas of existential and spiritual matters. Nietzsche was not alone (but has gained all the kudos) in complaining that this amounts to nothing more than existential cowardice on the part of the individual.
At certain times and in certain places, religion has conferred a number of social benefits (helping the needy, comforting the distressed, challenging injustice), but on balance, these have probably been outweighed by the negatives (war, genocide, persecution, prejudice, ignorance, the suppression of science, and, of course, the appropriation of large amounts of land, property and wealth).
Thomas Paine's 'Age of Reason' is the best source of arguments against Biblical doctrine. The many fallacies and poor argumentative structure of Richard Dawkins' 'God Delusion' is probably one of the worst - proof that time doesn't always engender progress, particularly in philosophy.
a. have no need of a marketing department; and
b. would not allow them to promote an inconsistent message that’s only going to hurt sales.
(Incidentally, making lists is a philosopher’s third favourite thing to do.]
Religious practice and religious institutions have one important philosophical function, which has little to do with either truth or credibility but more to do with being a kind of social authority broad enough to bear the responsibility of dealing with the gravitas of existential and spiritual matters. Nietzsche was not alone (but has gained all the kudos) in complaining that this amounts to nothing more than existential cowardice on the part of the individual.
At certain times and in certain places, religion has conferred a number of social benefits (helping the needy, comforting the distressed, challenging injustice), but on balance, these have probably been outweighed by the negatives (war, genocide, persecution, prejudice, ignorance, the suppression of science, and, of course, the appropriation of large amounts of land, property and wealth).
Thomas Paine's 'Age of Reason' is the best source of arguments against Biblical doctrine. The many fallacies and poor argumentative structure of Richard Dawkins' 'God Delusion' is probably one of the worst - proof that time doesn't always engender progress, particularly in philosophy.
1. God
Let’s gets the easy one out of the way first. Sartre (Being & Nothingness) summed up the deal on the big fella: God is irrelevant, or to be more accurate, whether God exists or not is irrelevant. The argument is simple: the only thing nobody disputes about God is that if he exists, he didn't compel everybody to believe in him (something of an oversight, if you think about it). It follows from this that it remains up to each individual to find meaning and purpose in their own lives. Whether a being or a nothing, either way, God doesn’t help.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)