Dawkins argues that humans will help other people selfishly due to their genetic similarity. Though I am helping another, I am ultimately helping myself by contributing the survival of my genes they possess.
Dawkins happens to be wrong. To be selfish, I need to behave in a way that benefits me. In order to make his claim true, that helping my genes is selfish, my genes must be me.
I am not my genes. Now, I have an intimate connection to my genes to be sure. I wouldn't exist without my genes. My development and continued survival depends on my genes. Someone with a set of my genes may be able to manufacture someone similar to me in many ways.
But I am not my genes, and my genes are not me. If you think you are your genes, then I apologize. It sucks to be you. You can wander about as a set of replicating, twisted nucleic acid pairs. The rest of us will continue in the swirling and nuanced flux of humanity.
Why genes, particularly? I couldn't live without the food I eat. I need it to develop and survive. I may be constituted by my genes, as I am constituted by my food. By why stop with food? I need air, mineral nutrients, environmental interactions, human relationships, personal experiences, and a whole host of other things in order to exist as I am.
I am in part my genes, perhaps. Just as I am in part the water I drink, the food I eat, the people I love, and the work I do.
So am I being selfish to protect the elements of which I am made? Am I selfish to protect air? Water? Minerals? The people I love? At what point do I start protecting the other?
To argue I protect all of creation to selfishly perpetuate my existence is really holding the candle for selfishness. Isn't it equally true that I protect myself to honor the existence of that which I am made?
In fact, a genetic view of humanity can be very other focused. Perhaps the only reasons I care for myself is to honor the genes given to me by my ancestors and to preserve them for my progeny.
Showing posts with label Within Tradition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Within Tradition. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The Problem with Greater Goods
I don't often use the phrase, "the greater good." In fact, I don't much worry about greater and lesser goods, or figuring out which is which. I'm more interested in every good.
It's a classic form of moral thinking. Which of these two things are worth saving? In given dilemma, which virtue would you choose? Identifying the moral value of things is important, because when the shit hits the fan one might have to choose one thing over another.
I don't deny the fact that moral dilemmas occur. Sometimes one seems to be faced with a choice of evils; situations where every choice, even the choice to do nothing, is morally wrong. There are also positive moral dilemmas, occasions when only one positive opportunity can be pursued. When these happen, we have to make choices.
Despite this fact, I believe that a vast majority of problems can be solved creatively without need to violate any good, the greater or the lesser.
Ultimately, if something is priceless, there is no way to assess it's numeric worth. No price can be put on it's head. Because of this valuelessness, it makes no sense to trade, buy, or barter over such an item. Priceless things cannot properly participate in economies.
Now, most of us believe that a human's life is priceless. And most of us hold to the idea that no monetary value could or should ever be assigned to a person. We also generally think abdominal any economy that trades lives for money. Generally, we are against buying and selling human lives.
And yet, we are usually comfortable bartering human lives. Not that we think about it that way. But consider, when faced with a moral dilemma, a situation where the good of one person/group must be chosen over another person/group. Deciding that one is more valuable the other is to engage in a blind barter, trading lives based on ambiguous value, but going toward the one of greater value. Having chosen the thing of greater value, we feel justified in our choice.
I have real problems with this feeling of justification. Even if we are right, and chose the path of greater good over a lesser, a lesser good did not come to pass. Or, if we choose the lesser evil over the greater, we still did an evil. Such dilemmas are horrible situations that rob possibility and force wrong.
It should also be noted that pursuing greater goods often give people the notion that they can do all kinds of lesser evil. Bullshit. One cannot trade one good for another.
So kick the notion of the greater good. If at all possible, achieve all goods, every good, no matter how great or small. If limited by conditions and abilities, do the good you feel you must, but do not overly justify your choices. Admit to the wrongs that occurred, and find ways to heal what was broken.
It's a classic form of moral thinking. Which of these two things are worth saving? In given dilemma, which virtue would you choose? Identifying the moral value of things is important, because when the shit hits the fan one might have to choose one thing over another.
I don't deny the fact that moral dilemmas occur. Sometimes one seems to be faced with a choice of evils; situations where every choice, even the choice to do nothing, is morally wrong. There are also positive moral dilemmas, occasions when only one positive opportunity can be pursued. When these happen, we have to make choices.
Despite this fact, I believe that a vast majority of problems can be solved creatively without need to violate any good, the greater or the lesser.
Ultimately, if something is priceless, there is no way to assess it's numeric worth. No price can be put on it's head. Because of this valuelessness, it makes no sense to trade, buy, or barter over such an item. Priceless things cannot properly participate in economies.
Now, most of us believe that a human's life is priceless. And most of us hold to the idea that no monetary value could or should ever be assigned to a person. We also generally think abdominal any economy that trades lives for money. Generally, we are against buying and selling human lives.
And yet, we are usually comfortable bartering human lives. Not that we think about it that way. But consider, when faced with a moral dilemma, a situation where the good of one person/group must be chosen over another person/group. Deciding that one is more valuable the other is to engage in a blind barter, trading lives based on ambiguous value, but going toward the one of greater value. Having chosen the thing of greater value, we feel justified in our choice.
I have real problems with this feeling of justification. Even if we are right, and chose the path of greater good over a lesser, a lesser good did not come to pass. Or, if we choose the lesser evil over the greater, we still did an evil. Such dilemmas are horrible situations that rob possibility and force wrong.
It should also be noted that pursuing greater goods often give people the notion that they can do all kinds of lesser evil. Bullshit. One cannot trade one good for another.
So kick the notion of the greater good. If at all possible, achieve all goods, every good, no matter how great or small. If limited by conditions and abilities, do the good you feel you must, but do not overly justify your choices. Admit to the wrongs that occurred, and find ways to heal what was broken.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Follow the manual
Many advocates of social exchange theory claim that altruism doesn't really exist. They point to the benefits of moral action, such as satisfaction, self esteem, the belief that good was done, and claim that those things were really the motivator. What seem to be altruistic persons are actually selfishly seeking their own satisfaction through helping others.
I find this patently ridiculous. For starters, how the hell do they know what motivates someone? Saying that everyone who ever did something good was really pursuing their own benefit is like saying that everyone who ever assembled something was really following the instruction manual.
Of course that's not true. There are people who manage to construct all sorts of things without ever looking at the instructions. But someone could of course come along, open the manual, and point to all the things that had been done.
Sure, but the truth of it is this: the crafter attended to the nature and structure of the task. He or she looked at the project, tried some things, felt around for what seemed best, used some intuition, and worked so that the ideal end came to pass. The fact that they performed as the manual deemed is due to the fact that the manual reflects the reality of the situation.
Likewise. Most moral decisions are made by looking, trying for some things, feeling around for what seems best, using some intuition, and working so that the ideal end comes to pass. And yes, this may follow a social scientific "manual" for how humans behave. It may be that altruists benefit from altruism. But this is due to the fact that benefits flow from the structure of morality, not the other way around.
Sure, some crafters use the manual, but others are directed by what is real. In this case, both the crafter's actions and the manual flow from what is real.
Similarly, some philanthropists do good to get good, but others are directed by what is good. In this case, both the altruist's actions and the benefits of helping others flow from what is good.
I find this patently ridiculous. For starters, how the hell do they know what motivates someone? Saying that everyone who ever did something good was really pursuing their own benefit is like saying that everyone who ever assembled something was really following the instruction manual.
Of course that's not true. There are people who manage to construct all sorts of things without ever looking at the instructions. But someone could of course come along, open the manual, and point to all the things that had been done.
Sure, but the truth of it is this: the crafter attended to the nature and structure of the task. He or she looked at the project, tried some things, felt around for what seemed best, used some intuition, and worked so that the ideal end came to pass. The fact that they performed as the manual deemed is due to the fact that the manual reflects the reality of the situation.
Likewise. Most moral decisions are made by looking, trying for some things, feeling around for what seems best, using some intuition, and working so that the ideal end comes to pass. And yes, this may follow a social scientific "manual" for how humans behave. It may be that altruists benefit from altruism. But this is due to the fact that benefits flow from the structure of morality, not the other way around.
Sure, some crafters use the manual, but others are directed by what is real. In this case, both the crafter's actions and the manual flow from what is real.
Similarly, some philanthropists do good to get good, but others are directed by what is good. In this case, both the altruist's actions and the benefits of helping others flow from what is good.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Means and Ends
In discussions of moral philosophy, the notion of means manage to work their way into many discussions.
A hot debate, for instance, is whether or not the ends justify the means. (They don't, by the way.) Another example is that it is wrong to consider another person as a mere means to your own ends, and rather should be treated as an end unto themselves.
I'm going to raise the bar. While pursuing the greatest good, there is no action that is merely a means to another end.
This may at first sound quite queer. Of course there are means. A means is no more than a method, a path way, a step (or many steps) between intention and completion. Without means at all... why then, how could be act strategically at all?
It is not my intention to be rid of step by step processes or rational action. Far from it. One of the ways all good will come to pass is by very strategic action on our part and it will be part of a very long process. Rather, I encourage you to not see any of your actions as simply a means. Each action, in that it is an expression of a moment of now (which is the present culmination of being) is in itself an end. At every moment, even if that action is also in service of another end, is an end unto itself.
I encourage you to see your actions in this way by adopting behavioral ends, which is to say, to see your behavior as something that is a thing of value, and that a particular action is worth striving for.
Lets take a practical scenario. Sure, you drive your car to work... so that you can get to work. But the driving of your car should also be an expression of what you want the world to be. This means that you use your car to communicate respect to the people around you, that you would drive a car (and in such a way) to reduce your environmental impact, and that should driving the car become something other than what you wanted your behavioral end to be... you would stop and seek another means that would better manifest your goodness.
No action is below having significance, and no moment here on earth need be wasted solely for the sake of another.
A hot debate, for instance, is whether or not the ends justify the means. (They don't, by the way.) Another example is that it is wrong to consider another person as a mere means to your own ends, and rather should be treated as an end unto themselves.
I'm going to raise the bar. While pursuing the greatest good, there is no action that is merely a means to another end.
This may at first sound quite queer. Of course there are means. A means is no more than a method, a path way, a step (or many steps) between intention and completion. Without means at all... why then, how could be act strategically at all?
It is not my intention to be rid of step by step processes or rational action. Far from it. One of the ways all good will come to pass is by very strategic action on our part and it will be part of a very long process. Rather, I encourage you to not see any of your actions as simply a means. Each action, in that it is an expression of a moment of now (which is the present culmination of being) is in itself an end. At every moment, even if that action is also in service of another end, is an end unto itself.
I encourage you to see your actions in this way by adopting behavioral ends, which is to say, to see your behavior as something that is a thing of value, and that a particular action is worth striving for.
Lets take a practical scenario. Sure, you drive your car to work... so that you can get to work. But the driving of your car should also be an expression of what you want the world to be. This means that you use your car to communicate respect to the people around you, that you would drive a car (and in such a way) to reduce your environmental impact, and that should driving the car become something other than what you wanted your behavioral end to be... you would stop and seek another means that would better manifest your goodness.
No action is below having significance, and no moment here on earth need be wasted solely for the sake of another.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Grace, Causation, and Miracles
When I was in high school I didn't believe in miracles.
I wasn't an agnostic. Even then I had this kind of unstoppable awareness of a Great Divine... and I think people would have described me as religious.
But I was also very logical. Goaded by a sense of order perhaps, I sought the causal explanations for any and all events. So while I loved God and God's stories... I was fascinated with physics. Had someone walked into the foyer of my fancy and held a gun to my head, I probably would have chosen God over physics... but that choice would have been a hollow one, a bit like choosing to be with the safe girl you've been dating for years because you should, while the other one runs off to South America to feed the homeless.
As a teen God and God's ways never fascinated me. Miracles... yeah. Prayer... right. I enjoyed prayer. I had left behind the days when church was my weekly hour devoted to getting all the dirt out from under my nails. I would pray, and it would calm me. I sorta thought about it like meditating. Good for me. Cleared my head.
But physics! Ah, there was something. It lay at the base of all science, and if you played your disciplines in the right order, it was the foundation of all of learning. "Aren't all the realizations of the humanities just a sloppy approach to sociology?" the conversation starts. "And sociology, that's just an unfocused way of doing psychology." Whoever this is has now alienated 70% of all academics, and they haven't even really gotten started. "And psychology, psychology is just a behavioral approach to a few organs, all sufficiently studied by biology. Biology is nothing more than the chemistry of living things." Once basically everyone in the room has been insulted, the clincher, "And chemistry is just simplified physics."
Or, put more succinctly by Ernest Rutherford, the New Zealand scientist who discovered that atoms have a small charged nucleus:
"All science is either physics or stamp collecting."
Of all understanding, physics seemed king. It has at its core a bit of very reasonable reasoning. Things reliably cause other things to happen. (Or maybe "Things cause other things to happen reliably." Wherever the reliably goes, you get the point. Things making things happen, so long as the same situation comes up again, it will all happen the same.)
This assumption of reliability its what makes experiments so damn cool. Instead of waiting for events to randomly occur in such a way as to enlighten you about the world, you can start throwing spheres out of windows over and over and watch. To describe this reliable activity the physicists chose the language of mathematics, as math is the second most reliable language on the planet. (The first is French, but the lawyers managed to get their hands on that one.)
Armed with observation, experimental design, and mathematics, you the physicist are free to discover anything about the universe. Or rather, to do a lot of observations so some arrogant ass can come along fifteen years later, use your data, and become way more famous than you ever will be. But who cares? All in the name of science! (You always liked that kid anyway.)
Right. I loved physics. And I was good at it, too! Abstract math always came more easily than arithmetic, and I thrived on those word puzzles mixed with a kind of CSI flare that always dominates physics tests. (If a car explodes and raises to a temperature of 220 degrees Celsius while launching off of a 60 degree ramp over a 30 degree lake going 120 m/s, what is the temperature of the water at the base of the ramp 10 minutes after the car sinks into the water? Assume no air friction and a spherical car. Way more fun than multiplication tables.)
I gleefully sought to answer all the world's mysteries. I didn't believe in ghosts, curses, superstitions, aliens, spirits, faeries, psychics... the closest I got was fearing that I was some kind of demon who could psychically, albeit unconsciously, hurt people when I was upset. I think some guy tripped on a hurdle when he was beating me and some clothing fell in my closet one night when I as crying. Anyway, apart from the angsty teen inner drama, I pretty much saw the world as solidly welded together, with not much room for weirdness. Occum would have been proud.
But college brought me into a new world. Lots of things happened in college. My liberal leanings solidified into clearly expressible beliefs, like loving gay people and hating war. I started ironing out that whole demon complex. But probably most importantly, I started hanging out with people who not only believed God existed, but really actually believed. There's an important difference. Everybody believes that Chiropractic care exists... but talk to those people who believe in it. They want its healing power and they get it every day if they can figure out how. I now had friends who sought the presence of their God every day, and there was no tragedy to severe nor worry to small that they hesitated in bringing it before their loving creator.
Some of these people were hippy Pagans, syncing their magic to the phases of Mother Moon and identifying within themselves and others the primordial animism that animated all things.
Some of these people were devoted Christians, praying with such surrender that the dogmas of their church were dwarfed in the face of their relationship with their savior.
And some of these people were philosophers, acutely aware of how their ideas shaped their experience, guiding their thoughts so as to better orient them to the Divine.
Somewhere in the midst of these influences, the physical world started to seem less reliable. I took physics my first year of college, and while it was the only A I got either semester, it didn't feed me in the way other pursuits did. Philosophy, communication, and religion became my intellectual mainstay. I learned about every faith I could read about, or even more importantly, worship with. The world I had always sought to understand mathematically was suddenly coming into clearer focus asking questions about my perception and the acts of God, spirits, and the fae.
So long as we are quoting famous physicists, lets do one more. Good Ol' Einstein, who hopefully needs no introduction, puts it like this: "There are two ways to live your life - one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle."
I had definitely started to see the hand of God in all places. Swirling spiritual causes now dominated my thinking. All things made through this loving creation. The full realization of this presence of God came quite by accident when a handful of very enthusiastic non-Catholic Christians came to the Catholic bible study. They were totally welcome of course... but very quickly it became clear that they had not come to learn anything... but rather to correct our erroneous understanding of just about everything. I ended up getting into a lively debate concerning the creation of the earth with a pair of guys.
Pair of guys, "The earth was created by God in seven days, so sayeth the bible."
Tim, "No, the earth was created by God through a process uncovered by science." (Still love my physics, God just happens to be really good at it too!)
Pair of guys, "Weren't you listening... THE BIBLE! Its says otherwise."
Tim, "Bah, metaphors. I'll go by the evidence built into the geological data."
At this point, I think the conversation has come to an end road. For them, the authority is the bible, for me, it's paying attention to the world. But they go for gold.
Pair of guys, "Ok, so it looks like the earth is 4.5 billion years old. What if God created the earth in seven days, but gave it the appearance of age? All the rocks and stuff instantly in perfect place to make it look like it had actually happened"
Tim is flabbergasted by this logic. "Why would God do a silly thing like that?"
Guy 1, "We cannot know the mind of God."
Guy 2, "To test our faith in the Bible."
Tim has had it. They have presented what we call in the thinking game an unfalsifiable argument, as any evidence to the contrary is explained by the theory. Such ideologies aren't doomed to be wrong... but they are not though kindly of among philosophers as you can do so little with them.
So Tim fires back, "Ok, ok, what if God created the earth 15 seconds ago with all our memories instantly in perfect place so that it seemed like we had been having this conversation and actually believed what we were saying?"
Pair of guys, "Why would God do a silly thing like that?
Tim, "To test my patience."
Rest assured that my retelling of that conversation casts me as wittier than I really was. All my retorts were probably what I wished I had said after they left, and they likely left thinking they had saved my soul. And perhaps they had.
Oddly enough, it was that conversation that destabilized my notion of God as a distant creator, one who was really good at pool, big banging that perfect shot into the racked set, knowing perfectly how every ball would spin and bounce and eventually end up in the pockets. They had suggested that perhaps the beginning of time was not the last creative act of my Blessed One. I had somewhat insincerely suggested that it had been less than a minute ago. But as I ruminated on that retort more authentically, it seemed only natural to ask that if God could have created everything in its completeness 15 seconds ago, then why not now.
Why not now? Could it be that my brilliant creator was authoring everything, suddenly, perfectly, and completely in every now? Wow. Way easier to feel the loving touch of the Divine.
And so it was that my fascination with understanding the world from a causal framework came to an official end. If all things flood out of God in every moment, then a causal explanation is nothing more than a running commentary on the brush stroke of God as God lets it be revealed to us. Things accelerate as they fall not because of some rule God invented at the beginning of time, but rather because God gracefully creates the object moment after moment so that is each existence shares a fluid relationship to its past existences. Causation is then a story, a way of understanding events, and not an active agent in the unfolding of future events. God is the ongoing crafter, and an artist at that.
And so it was that I came to understand everything as a miracle. Everything as an act of God.
But that was college, and while I wouldn't have suspected it then, I have learned things since. Now, its always easier to tell the story of how you came to know the things you did when they are in the past. Explaining the root of your current beliefs is a bit trickier. I'll do my best.
I have more respect for honor than I ever have. I have come to understand people as both bound by circumstance and free in spirit. I have swallowed the bitter pill that God knows far more than me, and that I have to ask for help. My world explodes with gratitude, and I know I must serve.
I realize this is a kind of paltry description when compared to the narratives that mark the other two phases. But its the best I can do. I don't really know why I believe what I believe now. But I do know what I believe.
The Einstein was wrong. At least about miracles. Now, his formulation was simple and brilliant. There is a virtue that is used to evaluate theories, a sort of "less is more" sensibility. Parsimony, they call it. Basically, the fewer assumptions a theory has to posit... the more parsimonious it is... and therefore more valuable. Spoken so well by the Franciscan Occam, if two theories have the same explanatory power, then the simpler of the two is better. According to this aesthetics of thinking, Einstein's assertion about miracles is safe. Either nothing is a miracle or everything is. Sorta like saying it either all ones or all zeros. Both ways you only have to deal with one number. Both ways Occam is satisfied with the nice close shave you gave yourself with his razor.
And here is where I become a fanatic. Sorry Einstein. Sorry Occam. Perhaps my vision of the world will just have to make a few extra assumptions and posit a few extra entities. Or perhaps our two visions do not have the same explanatory power. However its is judged, here it is.
I believe that God creates the world in every moment. That much has not changed. I also believe that God tends to create the world with a certain finesse that makes a causal story to be worth pursuing and worth telling other people. But I believe that there are extraordinary miracles, miracles of a different order than the usual glorious ever blossoming of the All.
I believe that one of Gods coolest miracles is the will. My will. Yours, too. And, as God authors the world, God creates my body and my moods with much of the directions I desire with my will. Deftly my life issues forth from his will, but in a way that follows my design. In this way I am perfectly possessed. Possessed by God, much in the same way a ghost possesses someone in a movie, but unlike that clumsy specter who violates the subject of their habitation, Gods presence impinges in no way upon my psyche. The creator of all, a dexterous bull in the china shop of my mind.
God not only miraculously creates the world, but miraculously sanctifies it as well. Through me, without a single affront to my choosings, God works divinely. Touching, healing, blessing, enlightening, liberating...
I used to look for the physical cause for all things.
I used to look for the spiritual cause for all things.
But now I know that God's love of my will is so great that she will not violate it in pursuit of her perfect design.
And with that in mind, I know that it is not my task to uncover all the laws of the universe. Nor is it my task to understand all the spiritual mysteries. While neither of these pursuits are bad, they serve good only when in service to our greatest call.
To surrender to the will of God. When God comes to work thought us, we should get the fuck out of the way. In the quiet surrender to our God we become greater than any act of self could ever accomplish.
I wasn't an agnostic. Even then I had this kind of unstoppable awareness of a Great Divine... and I think people would have described me as religious.
But I was also very logical. Goaded by a sense of order perhaps, I sought the causal explanations for any and all events. So while I loved God and God's stories... I was fascinated with physics. Had someone walked into the foyer of my fancy and held a gun to my head, I probably would have chosen God over physics... but that choice would have been a hollow one, a bit like choosing to be with the safe girl you've been dating for years because you should, while the other one runs off to South America to feed the homeless.
As a teen God and God's ways never fascinated me. Miracles... yeah. Prayer... right. I enjoyed prayer. I had left behind the days when church was my weekly hour devoted to getting all the dirt out from under my nails. I would pray, and it would calm me. I sorta thought about it like meditating. Good for me. Cleared my head.
But physics! Ah, there was something. It lay at the base of all science, and if you played your disciplines in the right order, it was the foundation of all of learning. "Aren't all the realizations of the humanities just a sloppy approach to sociology?" the conversation starts. "And sociology, that's just an unfocused way of doing psychology." Whoever this is has now alienated 70% of all academics, and they haven't even really gotten started. "And psychology, psychology is just a behavioral approach to a few organs, all sufficiently studied by biology. Biology is nothing more than the chemistry of living things." Once basically everyone in the room has been insulted, the clincher, "And chemistry is just simplified physics."
Or, put more succinctly by Ernest Rutherford, the New Zealand scientist who discovered that atoms have a small charged nucleus:
"All science is either physics or stamp collecting."
Of all understanding, physics seemed king. It has at its core a bit of very reasonable reasoning. Things reliably cause other things to happen. (Or maybe "Things cause other things to happen reliably." Wherever the reliably goes, you get the point. Things making things happen, so long as the same situation comes up again, it will all happen the same.)
This assumption of reliability its what makes experiments so damn cool. Instead of waiting for events to randomly occur in such a way as to enlighten you about the world, you can start throwing spheres out of windows over and over and watch. To describe this reliable activity the physicists chose the language of mathematics, as math is the second most reliable language on the planet. (The first is French, but the lawyers managed to get their hands on that one.)
Armed with observation, experimental design, and mathematics, you the physicist are free to discover anything about the universe. Or rather, to do a lot of observations so some arrogant ass can come along fifteen years later, use your data, and become way more famous than you ever will be. But who cares? All in the name of science! (You always liked that kid anyway.)
Right. I loved physics. And I was good at it, too! Abstract math always came more easily than arithmetic, and I thrived on those word puzzles mixed with a kind of CSI flare that always dominates physics tests. (If a car explodes and raises to a temperature of 220 degrees Celsius while launching off of a 60 degree ramp over a 30 degree lake going 120 m/s, what is the temperature of the water at the base of the ramp 10 minutes after the car sinks into the water? Assume no air friction and a spherical car. Way more fun than multiplication tables.)
I gleefully sought to answer all the world's mysteries. I didn't believe in ghosts, curses, superstitions, aliens, spirits, faeries, psychics... the closest I got was fearing that I was some kind of demon who could psychically, albeit unconsciously, hurt people when I was upset. I think some guy tripped on a hurdle when he was beating me and some clothing fell in my closet one night when I as crying. Anyway, apart from the angsty teen inner drama, I pretty much saw the world as solidly welded together, with not much room for weirdness. Occum would have been proud.
But college brought me into a new world. Lots of things happened in college. My liberal leanings solidified into clearly expressible beliefs, like loving gay people and hating war. I started ironing out that whole demon complex. But probably most importantly, I started hanging out with people who not only believed God existed, but really actually believed. There's an important difference. Everybody believes that Chiropractic care exists... but talk to those people who believe in it. They want its healing power and they get it every day if they can figure out how. I now had friends who sought the presence of their God every day, and there was no tragedy to severe nor worry to small that they hesitated in bringing it before their loving creator.
Some of these people were hippy Pagans, syncing their magic to the phases of Mother Moon and identifying within themselves and others the primordial animism that animated all things.
Some of these people were devoted Christians, praying with such surrender that the dogmas of their church were dwarfed in the face of their relationship with their savior.
And some of these people were philosophers, acutely aware of how their ideas shaped their experience, guiding their thoughts so as to better orient them to the Divine.
Somewhere in the midst of these influences, the physical world started to seem less reliable. I took physics my first year of college, and while it was the only A I got either semester, it didn't feed me in the way other pursuits did. Philosophy, communication, and religion became my intellectual mainstay. I learned about every faith I could read about, or even more importantly, worship with. The world I had always sought to understand mathematically was suddenly coming into clearer focus asking questions about my perception and the acts of God, spirits, and the fae.
So long as we are quoting famous physicists, lets do one more. Good Ol' Einstein, who hopefully needs no introduction, puts it like this: "There are two ways to live your life - one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle."
I had definitely started to see the hand of God in all places. Swirling spiritual causes now dominated my thinking. All things made through this loving creation. The full realization of this presence of God came quite by accident when a handful of very enthusiastic non-Catholic Christians came to the Catholic bible study. They were totally welcome of course... but very quickly it became clear that they had not come to learn anything... but rather to correct our erroneous understanding of just about everything. I ended up getting into a lively debate concerning the creation of the earth with a pair of guys.
Pair of guys, "The earth was created by God in seven days, so sayeth the bible."
Tim, "No, the earth was created by God through a process uncovered by science." (Still love my physics, God just happens to be really good at it too!)
Pair of guys, "Weren't you listening... THE BIBLE! Its says otherwise."
Tim, "Bah, metaphors. I'll go by the evidence built into the geological data."
At this point, I think the conversation has come to an end road. For them, the authority is the bible, for me, it's paying attention to the world. But they go for gold.
Pair of guys, "Ok, so it looks like the earth is 4.5 billion years old. What if God created the earth in seven days, but gave it the appearance of age? All the rocks and stuff instantly in perfect place to make it look like it had actually happened"
Tim is flabbergasted by this logic. "Why would God do a silly thing like that?"
Guy 1, "We cannot know the mind of God."
Guy 2, "To test our faith in the Bible."
Tim has had it. They have presented what we call in the thinking game an unfalsifiable argument, as any evidence to the contrary is explained by the theory. Such ideologies aren't doomed to be wrong... but they are not though kindly of among philosophers as you can do so little with them.
So Tim fires back, "Ok, ok, what if God created the earth 15 seconds ago with all our memories instantly in perfect place so that it seemed like we had been having this conversation and actually believed what we were saying?"
Pair of guys, "Why would God do a silly thing like that?
Tim, "To test my patience."
Rest assured that my retelling of that conversation casts me as wittier than I really was. All my retorts were probably what I wished I had said after they left, and they likely left thinking they had saved my soul. And perhaps they had.
Oddly enough, it was that conversation that destabilized my notion of God as a distant creator, one who was really good at pool, big banging that perfect shot into the racked set, knowing perfectly how every ball would spin and bounce and eventually end up in the pockets. They had suggested that perhaps the beginning of time was not the last creative act of my Blessed One. I had somewhat insincerely suggested that it had been less than a minute ago. But as I ruminated on that retort more authentically, it seemed only natural to ask that if God could have created everything in its completeness 15 seconds ago, then why not now.
Why not now? Could it be that my brilliant creator was authoring everything, suddenly, perfectly, and completely in every now? Wow. Way easier to feel the loving touch of the Divine.
And so it was that my fascination with understanding the world from a causal framework came to an official end. If all things flood out of God in every moment, then a causal explanation is nothing more than a running commentary on the brush stroke of God as God lets it be revealed to us. Things accelerate as they fall not because of some rule God invented at the beginning of time, but rather because God gracefully creates the object moment after moment so that is each existence shares a fluid relationship to its past existences. Causation is then a story, a way of understanding events, and not an active agent in the unfolding of future events. God is the ongoing crafter, and an artist at that.
And so it was that I came to understand everything as a miracle. Everything as an act of God.
But that was college, and while I wouldn't have suspected it then, I have learned things since. Now, its always easier to tell the story of how you came to know the things you did when they are in the past. Explaining the root of your current beliefs is a bit trickier. I'll do my best.
I have more respect for honor than I ever have. I have come to understand people as both bound by circumstance and free in spirit. I have swallowed the bitter pill that God knows far more than me, and that I have to ask for help. My world explodes with gratitude, and I know I must serve.
I realize this is a kind of paltry description when compared to the narratives that mark the other two phases. But its the best I can do. I don't really know why I believe what I believe now. But I do know what I believe.
The Einstein was wrong. At least about miracles. Now, his formulation was simple and brilliant. There is a virtue that is used to evaluate theories, a sort of "less is more" sensibility. Parsimony, they call it. Basically, the fewer assumptions a theory has to posit... the more parsimonious it is... and therefore more valuable. Spoken so well by the Franciscan Occam, if two theories have the same explanatory power, then the simpler of the two is better. According to this aesthetics of thinking, Einstein's assertion about miracles is safe. Either nothing is a miracle or everything is. Sorta like saying it either all ones or all zeros. Both ways you only have to deal with one number. Both ways Occam is satisfied with the nice close shave you gave yourself with his razor.
And here is where I become a fanatic. Sorry Einstein. Sorry Occam. Perhaps my vision of the world will just have to make a few extra assumptions and posit a few extra entities. Or perhaps our two visions do not have the same explanatory power. However its is judged, here it is.
I believe that God creates the world in every moment. That much has not changed. I also believe that God tends to create the world with a certain finesse that makes a causal story to be worth pursuing and worth telling other people. But I believe that there are extraordinary miracles, miracles of a different order than the usual glorious ever blossoming of the All.
I believe that one of Gods coolest miracles is the will. My will. Yours, too. And, as God authors the world, God creates my body and my moods with much of the directions I desire with my will. Deftly my life issues forth from his will, but in a way that follows my design. In this way I am perfectly possessed. Possessed by God, much in the same way a ghost possesses someone in a movie, but unlike that clumsy specter who violates the subject of their habitation, Gods presence impinges in no way upon my psyche. The creator of all, a dexterous bull in the china shop of my mind.
God not only miraculously creates the world, but miraculously sanctifies it as well. Through me, without a single affront to my choosings, God works divinely. Touching, healing, blessing, enlightening, liberating...
I used to look for the physical cause for all things.
I used to look for the spiritual cause for all things.
But now I know that God's love of my will is so great that she will not violate it in pursuit of her perfect design.
And with that in mind, I know that it is not my task to uncover all the laws of the universe. Nor is it my task to understand all the spiritual mysteries. While neither of these pursuits are bad, they serve good only when in service to our greatest call.
To surrender to the will of God. When God comes to work thought us, we should get the fuck out of the way. In the quiet surrender to our God we become greater than any act of self could ever accomplish.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Hiding from Yourself Amid the Crowd
It's called the Bystander Effect...
... and sometimes it makes me sad to be a human.
Basically, the Bystander Effect is the phenomenon that occurs when a group of people witness a crime. See, when a single person sees something bad happen to someone else, they tend to act. But put that person in a small group, and not only are they less likely to act, the likelihood that any person is smaller than the single witness scenario. The trend continues as the group of people grows.
At first, this seems weird. Why is a huge group of people unlikely to yield a single helper? Even a group of people who, had they been the solitary witness, each would have been willing to help.
It's all about deferral of responsibility. See, the lone witness knows that if they don't help, no one will. But in a group you know that there is someone better suited, more knowledgeable, or more apt to be the hero. In the end, everyone stands there, the responsibility smoothly distributed amongst all who stand by, just enough to make each one to feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make them help.
In all honesty, this nuance of human psychology makes me angry. I want to believe the group would come in and kick ass as a group. 10,000 strong, solving the problem. I want to be a member of race that is unfalteringly responsive to the needs of the world. But I'm not.
The thing that gets me is that the Bystander Effect is a product of social science. It isn't some idea about people, its the product of empirical study. This is how people behave. It would seem that I am doomed to be the coward in the crowd, hiding from my own conscience amid the masses.
So it would seem.
Unless you know a little about social science. Whenever scientists study the world there is all kinds of crazy crap that happens. Some of it fits into the system they are trying to test... some doesn't. If all research had to deal with all the occurrences, research would very rarely get done. So they only keep the data that allows forward movement. Basically, you are allowed to throw out the radicals, those unpredictably far from the mean.
Translation. A study can throw out weird subjects in order to make a cohesive picture. Mark it off to oddity, unforeseen variables, and extraordinary circumstances.
This is a ray of hope. Scientific conclusions need not be fates concerning your behaviors. That statistical radicals. That can be you.
See, my father is immune to the Bystander Effect. Perhaps its because he is a fire fighter, and he is used to being the one in the crowd actually responsible for helping. Perhaps its because of his strong sense of service that prompts him to act. Maybe its a foolishness or a fearlessness that keeps him from worrying about it long enough to not want to act.
Whatever it is, when something is going wrong, he is on the scene. No hesitation. No deferral of responsibility. Just action. Does this make the Bystander Effect wrong? Not exactly. It just makes my father part of the 5% that the researchers had to throw out in order to make sense of it all.
Strive to be that 5%. Idealize those people who are unwilling to let injustice and danger come to pass without acting. Act.
Ironically, me learning about the Bystander Effect has made it less true, at least in my life. Nowadays, when I am in a situation where many people aren't responding, and I start thinking, "Isn't someone going to do something?" I suddenly think, "Oh, crap, the Bystander Effect!" and I jump into action. I also try to consciously hone my identity so I don't even have the first thought. I try to develop my compassion for others and the courage within me so that when something bad happens, by first response is help. Hopefully one day I will only entertain thoughts like, "What is the way to do the greatest good?"
Besides, the Bystander Effect speaks nothing of human nature. It only describes human actions. This means that it could simply be a nuance of our culture, and that if enough people strove to live beneath the alpha level, eventually the Bystander Effect would no longer true.
What a great goal, huh? To be part of a people who at the first sign of trouble, solved it as one. Part of a race that refused to let the reigns of responsibility slip from their fingers, acting as though it was our sacred calling to right every wrong, no matter what caused it.
If I want to be a member of that group, I had better start with me. Waiting for other people to defy the Bystander Effect would be missing the point.
... and sometimes it makes me sad to be a human.
Basically, the Bystander Effect is the phenomenon that occurs when a group of people witness a crime. See, when a single person sees something bad happen to someone else, they tend to act. But put that person in a small group, and not only are they less likely to act, the likelihood that any person is smaller than the single witness scenario. The trend continues as the group of people grows.
At first, this seems weird. Why is a huge group of people unlikely to yield a single helper? Even a group of people who, had they been the solitary witness, each would have been willing to help.
It's all about deferral of responsibility. See, the lone witness knows that if they don't help, no one will. But in a group you know that there is someone better suited, more knowledgeable, or more apt to be the hero. In the end, everyone stands there, the responsibility smoothly distributed amongst all who stand by, just enough to make each one to feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make them help.
In all honesty, this nuance of human psychology makes me angry. I want to believe the group would come in and kick ass as a group. 10,000 strong, solving the problem. I want to be a member of race that is unfalteringly responsive to the needs of the world. But I'm not.
The thing that gets me is that the Bystander Effect is a product of social science. It isn't some idea about people, its the product of empirical study. This is how people behave. It would seem that I am doomed to be the coward in the crowd, hiding from my own conscience amid the masses.
So it would seem.
Unless you know a little about social science. Whenever scientists study the world there is all kinds of crazy crap that happens. Some of it fits into the system they are trying to test... some doesn't. If all research had to deal with all the occurrences, research would very rarely get done. So they only keep the data that allows forward movement. Basically, you are allowed to throw out the radicals, those unpredictably far from the mean.
Translation. A study can throw out weird subjects in order to make a cohesive picture. Mark it off to oddity, unforeseen variables, and extraordinary circumstances.
This is a ray of hope. Scientific conclusions need not be fates concerning your behaviors. That statistical radicals. That can be you.
See, my father is immune to the Bystander Effect. Perhaps its because he is a fire fighter, and he is used to being the one in the crowd actually responsible for helping. Perhaps its because of his strong sense of service that prompts him to act. Maybe its a foolishness or a fearlessness that keeps him from worrying about it long enough to not want to act.
Whatever it is, when something is going wrong, he is on the scene. No hesitation. No deferral of responsibility. Just action. Does this make the Bystander Effect wrong? Not exactly. It just makes my father part of the 5% that the researchers had to throw out in order to make sense of it all.
Strive to be that 5%. Idealize those people who are unwilling to let injustice and danger come to pass without acting. Act.
Ironically, me learning about the Bystander Effect has made it less true, at least in my life. Nowadays, when I am in a situation where many people aren't responding, and I start thinking, "Isn't someone going to do something?" I suddenly think, "Oh, crap, the Bystander Effect!" and I jump into action. I also try to consciously hone my identity so I don't even have the first thought. I try to develop my compassion for others and the courage within me so that when something bad happens, by first response is help. Hopefully one day I will only entertain thoughts like, "What is the way to do the greatest good?"
Besides, the Bystander Effect speaks nothing of human nature. It only describes human actions. This means that it could simply be a nuance of our culture, and that if enough people strove to live beneath the alpha level, eventually the Bystander Effect would no longer true.
What a great goal, huh? To be part of a people who at the first sign of trouble, solved it as one. Part of a race that refused to let the reigns of responsibility slip from their fingers, acting as though it was our sacred calling to right every wrong, no matter what caused it.
If I want to be a member of that group, I had better start with me. Waiting for other people to defy the Bystander Effect would be missing the point.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Sacred Senses
While abiding by unchecked desires will lead us astray, it should be made perfectly clear that we are designed to have pleasure. While it is not precisely a birthright (as it is inevitable that we should experience pain), pleasure is one of our callings, as well as it is our destiny.
Of course we are created to humbly serve others. But what an odd world it would be if we were all called to foster the pleasure of others and never ourselves. How inefficient! How paradoxical, too!
No, one of our tasks is to pursue our pleasure, so long as that pursuit does not place our well being above the good of another.
Consider the fruits of pleasure. The sweet sensation of the wise develops gratitude. When our senses are coaxed by beauty we see the work of our creator. Joy and laughter mend some wounds that consolation only tends.
We are made to be happy! In fact, it is when we are intentionally joyful and sensually engaged that we come to know the ecstasy that pervades all things. Our senses are divine, and they help us soak in the divinity in the world.
We must only be suspicious of our pleasure when it harms ourselves or others. Even then, it is not the pleasure that is bad, but the harm. Our greatest calling is to serve, and we will find much satisfaction in the pursuit of that end. We must also not harm ourselves in pursuit of our pleasure, for our senses are part of our bodily and spiritual selves, and any physical or spiritual harm wounds the senses we were trying to indulge.
Do not loose sight of the sacredness of our senses. Experience is a treasure unto itself, as well as in invaluable tool in doing good in the world. Treat yourself well, and fill your world with good feeling.
Of course we are created to humbly serve others. But what an odd world it would be if we were all called to foster the pleasure of others and never ourselves. How inefficient! How paradoxical, too!
No, one of our tasks is to pursue our pleasure, so long as that pursuit does not place our well being above the good of another.
Consider the fruits of pleasure. The sweet sensation of the wise develops gratitude. When our senses are coaxed by beauty we see the work of our creator. Joy and laughter mend some wounds that consolation only tends.
We are made to be happy! In fact, it is when we are intentionally joyful and sensually engaged that we come to know the ecstasy that pervades all things. Our senses are divine, and they help us soak in the divinity in the world.
We must only be suspicious of our pleasure when it harms ourselves or others. Even then, it is not the pleasure that is bad, but the harm. Our greatest calling is to serve, and we will find much satisfaction in the pursuit of that end. We must also not harm ourselves in pursuit of our pleasure, for our senses are part of our bodily and spiritual selves, and any physical or spiritual harm wounds the senses we were trying to indulge.
Do not loose sight of the sacredness of our senses. Experience is a treasure unto itself, as well as in invaluable tool in doing good in the world. Treat yourself well, and fill your world with good feeling.
How can we be so sure...
One of the classic questions in philosophy concerns certainty. How is it that we know what we know? Can we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that which we believe? What of our knowledge is beyond skepticism?
In essence, how can we be so sure...
The usual epistemic (fancy adjective meaning knowledge related) strategy is to seek logical support. Now, depending on the particular philosopher, the logic is founded in different spheres. Some desire systematic sensory evidence (we call those ones empiricists). Others want to use the depths of the human mind and spirit to summon basic principles (rationalists). Generally speaking, even though these philosophers may really disagree on the kind of justification needs, they all agree that such justification is needed.
I support belief justification... but I also know another way to increase confidence in a belief, although professing it may in fact make me a poor philosopher.
Courage.
Want certainty? Get some. Sometimes we do not solidly hold our beliefs because they are misshapen or unjustified. Sometimes we waver because we are weak. It takes courage to defend an idea that comes under assault, and it takes courage to act on an idea when the stakes are high.
Be wary. Courage without any skeptical mechanism is unguided fanaticism. This can cause problems of a different ilk. Its important to have some skepticism if you want to prevent yourself from doing bad.
But you need courage to do good.
In essence, how can we be so sure...
The usual epistemic (fancy adjective meaning knowledge related) strategy is to seek logical support. Now, depending on the particular philosopher, the logic is founded in different spheres. Some desire systematic sensory evidence (we call those ones empiricists). Others want to use the depths of the human mind and spirit to summon basic principles (rationalists). Generally speaking, even though these philosophers may really disagree on the kind of justification needs, they all agree that such justification is needed.
I support belief justification... but I also know another way to increase confidence in a belief, although professing it may in fact make me a poor philosopher.
Courage.
Want certainty? Get some. Sometimes we do not solidly hold our beliefs because they are misshapen or unjustified. Sometimes we waver because we are weak. It takes courage to defend an idea that comes under assault, and it takes courage to act on an idea when the stakes are high.
Be wary. Courage without any skeptical mechanism is unguided fanaticism. This can cause problems of a different ilk. Its important to have some skepticism if you want to prevent yourself from doing bad.
But you need courage to do good.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Adulthood
When I was a youth, I often wondered when I would become an adult. While certainly I had met some adults not worth admiring, I imagined my transformation to adulthood as being characterized by the acquisition of some special quality, some intuitive knack, some problem solving ability that would set me apart.
As I aged, I noticed a distinct lack of transformative moments. My extended education did put me half way into my twenties before I was done, which may have strung out any single moment of adultification into harder to distinguish phases. Whatever the cause, there seemed to be no defining moment, and more disappointingly, no special mechanism for coping with the world.
How, then, would I cope with the world in an adult way? What then was the source of that indefinable... maturity that adults seemed to conduct themselves with? It didn't seem to be a particular piece of knowledge.
And then, one day, it hit me. I had been making decisions about the future, and I remember thinking, "Well, I really wish someone else would solve this problem... but that's not going to happen... and I'm not just going let it pass to others... so, ok, its on me." In that moment, I became an adult.
Adulthood carries with it a certitude and fortitude, not generated from any special ability, but rather the resolution that when there is a problem, to choose otherwise is simply not an option. It grants no special ability to cope with responsibility, but simply the willingness to earnestly accept responsibility.
Now, this role as the bottom line is facilitated by an emotional fortitude that boarders on emotional dishonesty. I have found that adults have the amazing ability to lie to themselves and others about the truth of their being. It seems that the healthy adult must recognize the moments others are relying on them and there is no choice but to deal, but also recognize those moments where they can decompress in a safe way and refresh their souls.
Looking back, I see why the attribute of adulthood eluded my investigation. In different situations, and with different people, it is different traits that accomplish acts of adult steadiness. Additionally, any one of these traits could be just as easily be possessed by a child. But the commitment of maturity facilitates the transition from trait to trait, even as particular adult has no idea how they are going to solve the problem at hand. They simply know that to not solve the problem is not an option.
As I aged, I noticed a distinct lack of transformative moments. My extended education did put me half way into my twenties before I was done, which may have strung out any single moment of adultification into harder to distinguish phases. Whatever the cause, there seemed to be no defining moment, and more disappointingly, no special mechanism for coping with the world.
How, then, would I cope with the world in an adult way? What then was the source of that indefinable... maturity that adults seemed to conduct themselves with? It didn't seem to be a particular piece of knowledge.
And then, one day, it hit me. I had been making decisions about the future, and I remember thinking, "Well, I really wish someone else would solve this problem... but that's not going to happen... and I'm not just going let it pass to others... so, ok, its on me." In that moment, I became an adult.
Adulthood carries with it a certitude and fortitude, not generated from any special ability, but rather the resolution that when there is a problem, to choose otherwise is simply not an option. It grants no special ability to cope with responsibility, but simply the willingness to earnestly accept responsibility.
Now, this role as the bottom line is facilitated by an emotional fortitude that boarders on emotional dishonesty. I have found that adults have the amazing ability to lie to themselves and others about the truth of their being. It seems that the healthy adult must recognize the moments others are relying on them and there is no choice but to deal, but also recognize those moments where they can decompress in a safe way and refresh their souls.
Looking back, I see why the attribute of adulthood eluded my investigation. In different situations, and with different people, it is different traits that accomplish acts of adult steadiness. Additionally, any one of these traits could be just as easily be possessed by a child. But the commitment of maturity facilitates the transition from trait to trait, even as particular adult has no idea how they are going to solve the problem at hand. They simply know that to not solve the problem is not an option.
Q and A
Some fundamentalist believers discourage questioning the ways of God. They reason that God's ways are above our ways, and that it is not our place to question, but rather accept and obey.
I take a different stance. I encourage questioning. Generate questions. Foster doubt. Destabilize assumptions. There are a few benefits to questioning.
One, it cuts back on dangerous religious practices. By building in a little skepticism there is a let off valve for the pressure that can otherwise become explosive. Questions have a way of softening the hard edge of faith, and when that hard edge is about to be used in violence a little softening is in order.
Secondly, questioning can deepen faith. A person who has delved into the difficult aspects of their beliefs is more likely to have a sense of ownership about their ideology than someone who has not. Questioning is also something of a self-inoculation to attacks on the faith.
Overall, I more than support questioning God. I endorse it.
But here's the thing...
Questioning God is only half the equation. We are also called to answer God.
You know the types. In fact, you may be one. People who have a truck load of inquiries, ranging from earnest to cynical to snide. They ask, ask, ask, playing the Devil's advocate concerning all faith claims, committed to ever looking, ever challenging.
Consider this: will someone committed to ever looking ever find? Will someone ever challenging ever accept? No. If you are determined to ever seek, even when you find that for which you yearn, you will leave it to continue seeking. If you are determined to challenge, even if you meet your match, you will refuse to accept and continue beyond.
Rather, if you look, look for the sake of finding what is right. If you challenge, challenge for the sake of accepting what is true. Otherwise your quest is doomed to frivolity and empty failure.
Once again, I have no issue with questioning. But when I cast my eyes upward and ask, "My father, why did you bring them suffering?" I had better be ready for when God answers, "My son, so that you could bring them satisfaction."
It is human nature to question the universe. But it is also human nature to serve the universe. If you have the urge to grill your creator, by all means. That is however, only step one. Actually listening for the answer is step two. Step three, transform your life in response to what was revealed to you.
It takes pride to question God. It takes humility to accept the answer. This is one of the fundamental pillars of relating to the divine, and we are called to strive in both endeavors. If you find yourself doing one or the other, it may be time for some for some real Q and A.
I take a different stance. I encourage questioning. Generate questions. Foster doubt. Destabilize assumptions. There are a few benefits to questioning.
One, it cuts back on dangerous religious practices. By building in a little skepticism there is a let off valve for the pressure that can otherwise become explosive. Questions have a way of softening the hard edge of faith, and when that hard edge is about to be used in violence a little softening is in order.
Secondly, questioning can deepen faith. A person who has delved into the difficult aspects of their beliefs is more likely to have a sense of ownership about their ideology than someone who has not. Questioning is also something of a self-inoculation to attacks on the faith.
Overall, I more than support questioning God. I endorse it.
But here's the thing...
Questioning God is only half the equation. We are also called to answer God.
You know the types. In fact, you may be one. People who have a truck load of inquiries, ranging from earnest to cynical to snide. They ask, ask, ask, playing the Devil's advocate concerning all faith claims, committed to ever looking, ever challenging.
Consider this: will someone committed to ever looking ever find? Will someone ever challenging ever accept? No. If you are determined to ever seek, even when you find that for which you yearn, you will leave it to continue seeking. If you are determined to challenge, even if you meet your match, you will refuse to accept and continue beyond.
Rather, if you look, look for the sake of finding what is right. If you challenge, challenge for the sake of accepting what is true. Otherwise your quest is doomed to frivolity and empty failure.
Once again, I have no issue with questioning. But when I cast my eyes upward and ask, "My father, why did you bring them suffering?" I had better be ready for when God answers, "My son, so that you could bring them satisfaction."
It is human nature to question the universe. But it is also human nature to serve the universe. If you have the urge to grill your creator, by all means. That is however, only step one. Actually listening for the answer is step two. Step three, transform your life in response to what was revealed to you.
It takes pride to question God. It takes humility to accept the answer. This is one of the fundamental pillars of relating to the divine, and we are called to strive in both endeavors. If you find yourself doing one or the other, it may be time for some for some real Q and A.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Rationalism and Empiricism
Rationalism is the philosophical notion that claims the most reliable path to knowledge is through reflection. Humans, the rationalist says, have a special faculty that allows them to access the truth of things through contemplation.
Empiricism, on the other hand, claims that knowledge is best attained through use of the senses. Most empiricists see evaluation of the world through systematic observation the road to meaningful and reliable beliefs.
These two ideologies have dominated many discussions concerning knowledge. Rationalists tend to have a metaphysical leaning, while empiricists lean toward the scientific. The discipline of philosophy has rigorously teased out the many and sundry nuances of these positions and the many that surround this discourse. If your interested, I suggest you wade in and get your feet wet.
But for the sake of this conversation, I would like to disentangle these two beautiful methods from the fights they so often face. Seeking the greatest good requires the engagement of both truth finding mechanisms. It goes something like this....
Experience via your senses the world around you.
Reflect on what occurred. Organize your thoughts.
Go out again. See what is the same and what has changed.
Reflect again. Start to develop a sense of what is real. Weigh this against your deeply held intuitions.
Evaluate your sensations based on this inner conclusion. Do they live up to it, or go beyond?
Reconsider, reevaluate.
Knowing what is real, start looking for what is out of place.
Check these against your conscience.
Investigate the mechanisms that cause these events.
Imagine a solution.
Identify the resources that can serve your cause.
Resolve yourself to act.
Attend to the world as you act, and react as it presents new challenges.
---
Both the rationalist and empiricist approach is needed to accomplish moral action. They simply serve different roles, answering their own questions. Different kinds of truth need different kinds of proof. An empiricist who rejects rationalism can collect data, but never evaluate it, as the intellectual tools of science are ultimately rational constructions and processes. Similarly, a rationalist who rejects empiricism can imagine, but can never really comment on the world they lost contact with in their contemplation.
As a moral agent, you must attend to both your senses and your intuition. Your senses are a great indicator of what is real. Your intuition is a great indicator of what is good. Working in tandem, these two intellectual virtues complement each other beautifully.
Empiricism, on the other hand, claims that knowledge is best attained through use of the senses. Most empiricists see evaluation of the world through systematic observation the road to meaningful and reliable beliefs.
These two ideologies have dominated many discussions concerning knowledge. Rationalists tend to have a metaphysical leaning, while empiricists lean toward the scientific. The discipline of philosophy has rigorously teased out the many and sundry nuances of these positions and the many that surround this discourse. If your interested, I suggest you wade in and get your feet wet.
But for the sake of this conversation, I would like to disentangle these two beautiful methods from the fights they so often face. Seeking the greatest good requires the engagement of both truth finding mechanisms. It goes something like this....
Experience via your senses the world around you.
Reflect on what occurred. Organize your thoughts.
Go out again. See what is the same and what has changed.
Reflect again. Start to develop a sense of what is real. Weigh this against your deeply held intuitions.
Evaluate your sensations based on this inner conclusion. Do they live up to it, or go beyond?
Reconsider, reevaluate.
Knowing what is real, start looking for what is out of place.
Check these against your conscience.
Investigate the mechanisms that cause these events.
Imagine a solution.
Identify the resources that can serve your cause.
Resolve yourself to act.
Attend to the world as you act, and react as it presents new challenges.
---
Both the rationalist and empiricist approach is needed to accomplish moral action. They simply serve different roles, answering their own questions. Different kinds of truth need different kinds of proof. An empiricist who rejects rationalism can collect data, but never evaluate it, as the intellectual tools of science are ultimately rational constructions and processes. Similarly, a rationalist who rejects empiricism can imagine, but can never really comment on the world they lost contact with in their contemplation.
As a moral agent, you must attend to both your senses and your intuition. Your senses are a great indicator of what is real. Your intuition is a great indicator of what is good. Working in tandem, these two intellectual virtues complement each other beautifully.
The Unstoppable Truth
The great teacher Socrates believed that if someone knew right from wrong, there would be no way they would choose the wrong path. Ignorance was the cause of immoral action. His argument goes something like this: 1.) each person is one thing, 2.) to know goodness is to be aligned one way, 3.) to do bad is to be aligned another way, 4.) one thing cannot be aligned two ways, therefore people cannot know good and do bad.
This position has been blasted as being horribly shortsighted concerning human nature. Humans are often of two minds, feeling one way for some reasons and feeling another way for others. It seems that his view rejects temptations, moral confusion, and uncertainty. Most people reject the first premise.
While I would agree to the complexities of people, I think Socrates may still have been on to something. He believed that knowing the truth would prevent immoral behavior. Is it possible that this statement was true for him? Lets look a little closer.
Socrates was a highly contemplative man, who was known for entering fugue states where he reflected deeply. This was not a man with a casual approach toward knowledge. Also, he claimed to have a voice that would speak to him with clarity. He believed this voice to be external to himself, and of supernatural origin. As a thinker, he had a very rigorous standard for knowledge, claiming that true knowledge had to be right and non accidental, with the idea in intimate relation with the truth in the world.
One possibility is that Socrates is a more powerful thinker than we who reject his notion. Is it not possible that through rigorous contemplation he effectively welded his motivations, aesthetics, and moralities into a immovable piece. It may be true of such a thinker that they can be of only one mind.
I also think that his daemon, the voice that spoke to him, may have played a valuable role. Such powerful divine experiences have a way of unifying the spirit of the one who witnesses them. Perhaps he was permeated by an unquestionable truth leading to an undeniable set of actions. A truth more powerful than our petty human temptations and confusions.
Under this construction there is a higher form of knowing, a more intimate orientation toward the truth. Those defending the Socratic "knowledge leads to goodness" argument would retort to the "splintered nature of the person" counterpoint and say, "The one who is splintered clearly doesn't truly know." This is a more robust knowing than is often discussed in purely academic traditions. It is not, however, a stranger to the student of theology.
This morality motivating knowledge is basically a kind of theological awareness, a fusion of head and heart knowledge that changes the way the thinker experiences the world. Some truths, when fully grasped, are nothing short of transformative. These unstoppable truths are huge ideas, moving glacierally through consciousness, shaping swaths of behavior and ideologies in their wake.
And yes, they are likely to be supernatural mental experiences. Moments where the dross of your own wondering is impossibly purified into a artifact of otherly wisdom. Moments where the branches of your ancient and deeply rooted assumptions snap under the cluttered mass of ivy ideologies, and a beam of true light cuts through your green and stifled dimness and touches the floor of your mind.
Even if this has never happened to you all at once, it most likely has happened by slow growings. Look into the eyes of your most beloved, the one you know the best and strive to know even better, and tell me that true knowing doesn't motivate moral action.
As Socrates would have it, it is when we loose sight of the truth that we do ill. If this is indeed the case, strive to know the world, its people, and all things as well as you can. See them as thought they were illuminated by the light of their own good, and be open to the transformation that is likely to follow exposing yourself to the truth.
This position has been blasted as being horribly shortsighted concerning human nature. Humans are often of two minds, feeling one way for some reasons and feeling another way for others. It seems that his view rejects temptations, moral confusion, and uncertainty. Most people reject the first premise.
While I would agree to the complexities of people, I think Socrates may still have been on to something. He believed that knowing the truth would prevent immoral behavior. Is it possible that this statement was true for him? Lets look a little closer.
Socrates was a highly contemplative man, who was known for entering fugue states where he reflected deeply. This was not a man with a casual approach toward knowledge. Also, he claimed to have a voice that would speak to him with clarity. He believed this voice to be external to himself, and of supernatural origin. As a thinker, he had a very rigorous standard for knowledge, claiming that true knowledge had to be right and non accidental, with the idea in intimate relation with the truth in the world.
One possibility is that Socrates is a more powerful thinker than we who reject his notion. Is it not possible that through rigorous contemplation he effectively welded his motivations, aesthetics, and moralities into a immovable piece. It may be true of such a thinker that they can be of only one mind.
I also think that his daemon, the voice that spoke to him, may have played a valuable role. Such powerful divine experiences have a way of unifying the spirit of the one who witnesses them. Perhaps he was permeated by an unquestionable truth leading to an undeniable set of actions. A truth more powerful than our petty human temptations and confusions.
Under this construction there is a higher form of knowing, a more intimate orientation toward the truth. Those defending the Socratic "knowledge leads to goodness" argument would retort to the "splintered nature of the person" counterpoint and say, "The one who is splintered clearly doesn't truly know." This is a more robust knowing than is often discussed in purely academic traditions. It is not, however, a stranger to the student of theology.
This morality motivating knowledge is basically a kind of theological awareness, a fusion of head and heart knowledge that changes the way the thinker experiences the world. Some truths, when fully grasped, are nothing short of transformative. These unstoppable truths are huge ideas, moving glacierally through consciousness, shaping swaths of behavior and ideologies in their wake.
And yes, they are likely to be supernatural mental experiences. Moments where the dross of your own wondering is impossibly purified into a artifact of otherly wisdom. Moments where the branches of your ancient and deeply rooted assumptions snap under the cluttered mass of ivy ideologies, and a beam of true light cuts through your green and stifled dimness and touches the floor of your mind.
Even if this has never happened to you all at once, it most likely has happened by slow growings. Look into the eyes of your most beloved, the one you know the best and strive to know even better, and tell me that true knowing doesn't motivate moral action.
As Socrates would have it, it is when we loose sight of the truth that we do ill. If this is indeed the case, strive to know the world, its people, and all things as well as you can. See them as thought they were illuminated by the light of their own good, and be open to the transformation that is likely to follow exposing yourself to the truth.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Heavenly Now
I try not to worry much about heaven.
Its not that I don't think it exists. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. It's more that it doesn't really matter one way or the other.
See, if it doesn't, I have nothing to worry about. All the good I've ever done I was immediately rewarded in gratitude and often with showings of universal coincidences. So, if there is no eternal reward, I won't be bummed or feel cheated. I already got more than I could have ever asked for the good that I did hoping for nothing in return.
And if it does... well, there is still not much call in fretting about it. Engaging in altruism for the sake of perfect reward never set well with me.
Here's the thing. The nature of the afterlife is unknown to me. What I do know, on the other hand, is the infinity that lurks within every moment of now. Hiding beneath every instant, sometimes deeply, sometimes just below the surface, is the eternity of being, the endless ecstatic truth that roars in every direction unceasingly. This infinity may not be endless historically speaking, but it does go on forever in space, and feels, at least to me, to be a perfectly representative pause of creation, making it at least timeless in its uniqueness.
I have lived only a handful of such moments, but I've lived by far enough of them to count myself among the very lucky and make me feel like I have lived forever. At least, lived in a moment that went on forever. It's not exactly an afterlife, no. Its something else. Its a nowlife. Instead of looking forward, its more a matter of inward and outward.
Don't get me wrong. I'll serve the coming kingdom as best I can. I just choose to do it now.
Its not that I don't think it exists. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. It's more that it doesn't really matter one way or the other.
See, if it doesn't, I have nothing to worry about. All the good I've ever done I was immediately rewarded in gratitude and often with showings of universal coincidences. So, if there is no eternal reward, I won't be bummed or feel cheated. I already got more than I could have ever asked for the good that I did hoping for nothing in return.
And if it does... well, there is still not much call in fretting about it. Engaging in altruism for the sake of perfect reward never set well with me.
Here's the thing. The nature of the afterlife is unknown to me. What I do know, on the other hand, is the infinity that lurks within every moment of now. Hiding beneath every instant, sometimes deeply, sometimes just below the surface, is the eternity of being, the endless ecstatic truth that roars in every direction unceasingly. This infinity may not be endless historically speaking, but it does go on forever in space, and feels, at least to me, to be a perfectly representative pause of creation, making it at least timeless in its uniqueness.
I have lived only a handful of such moments, but I've lived by far enough of them to count myself among the very lucky and make me feel like I have lived forever. At least, lived in a moment that went on forever. It's not exactly an afterlife, no. Its something else. Its a nowlife. Instead of looking forward, its more a matter of inward and outward.
Don't get me wrong. I'll serve the coming kingdom as best I can. I just choose to do it now.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Pragmatism and Hidden Value
Philosophically speaking, don't trust someone claiming to be a pragmatist. They aren't one.
Almost every student of philosophy is lured by the appeal of a pragmatic ideology. Throw away having to defend one idea or another, and instead rely on what works. Just believe what lets you do what works.
But here's the catch. What works is relative. What is effective and efficient is culturally and situationally bound. Check out any culture, and you find underlying values that help shape the manifestation of and assign meaning to the behaviors of the culture's people. So what works, while it sounds prima facia to be a simple application of common sense, is actually an expression of deeply seated normative assumptions.
Said another way, pragmatists still have value directing their ideology. They just hid it behind their culture.
Almost every student of philosophy is lured by the appeal of a pragmatic ideology. Throw away having to defend one idea or another, and instead rely on what works. Just believe what lets you do what works.
But here's the catch. What works is relative. What is effective and efficient is culturally and situationally bound. Check out any culture, and you find underlying values that help shape the manifestation of and assign meaning to the behaviors of the culture's people. So what works, while it sounds prima facia to be a simple application of common sense, is actually an expression of deeply seated normative assumptions.
Said another way, pragmatists still have value directing their ideology. They just hid it behind their culture.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Do unto others...
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Works, but it fails when you realize that different people need different things. You might want people to be blunt with you, but that may be the worst way of relating to certain kinds of folks.
So, perhaps a reversal.
Do unto others as they would have done unto themselves.
Better. Admits to the failing of a self focused metric. Only problem here is that some people foster quite a bit of ill will toward themselves, so they aren't always the most reliable stewards of their wellbeing.
It seems a corollary is in order for those who diminish their own significance.
Do unto yourself as you would have others do unto you.
Pretty good, as many who harm themselves desire good treatment from others. It of course, only works if you want people to treat you well. Those who seek abuse would be led astray.
Ahhh! Its kinda like moral chaos around here. My suggestion?
Do. Do as though there was no difference in value between yourself, others, and divine work that created it all.
Works, but it fails when you realize that different people need different things. You might want people to be blunt with you, but that may be the worst way of relating to certain kinds of folks.
So, perhaps a reversal.
Do unto others as they would have done unto themselves.
Better. Admits to the failing of a self focused metric. Only problem here is that some people foster quite a bit of ill will toward themselves, so they aren't always the most reliable stewards of their wellbeing.
It seems a corollary is in order for those who diminish their own significance.
Do unto yourself as you would have others do unto you.
Pretty good, as many who harm themselves desire good treatment from others. It of course, only works if you want people to treat you well. Those who seek abuse would be led astray.
Ahhh! Its kinda like moral chaos around here. My suggestion?
Do. Do as though there was no difference in value between yourself, others, and divine work that created it all.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
10% God's
Christ told a lot of stories. He wove a lot of metaphors. Seeds on the soil. Prodigal sons. Vinyards, lambs, fish, lamps, treasures, camels. Jesus was always good for a story.
But when he said give away all you have and follow me, was that a metaphor? Was it his way of saying you should give up everything in your heart, and only love him? Was it a story about the man who gave up everything and followed him... teaching some other lesson?
I suspect not. He said it to a real person. A rich guy, who happened to be holy and good, who only had one last lesson to learn. Give it up. Follow.
Give it all up? I struggle with 10%! I don't know where the concept of 10% came from... but I've never managed to give away 10% of all I have. Sure, 10% of my time. That's kind of a tall order... 2.4 hours a day in service of others... but do-able. But I've never managed to make that shift to money and things.
And even if I succeed, what then? Can I then rest, knowing I've gone above and beyond? Paid my moral debt? Shouldn't what I give be based on, I don't know, what the world needs? Not some 10% rule? Hell, is 10% enough?
How much of what is mine mine? 90%? How much do I belong to God and the people around me? 10%? Perhaps I should give 90%, and keep 10% for myself. That sounds a lot more reflective of the reality of the situation. My success is about .5% my effort, with the other 99.5% being shared between the support of the people in my life, the systems in place within society, and the gifts given to me by the universe. Don't know if I can swing living on .5%. Not a bad goal, though.
Maybe I'll start with living on 10%.
But when he said give away all you have and follow me, was that a metaphor? Was it his way of saying you should give up everything in your heart, and only love him? Was it a story about the man who gave up everything and followed him... teaching some other lesson?
I suspect not. He said it to a real person. A rich guy, who happened to be holy and good, who only had one last lesson to learn. Give it up. Follow.
Give it all up? I struggle with 10%! I don't know where the concept of 10% came from... but I've never managed to give away 10% of all I have. Sure, 10% of my time. That's kind of a tall order... 2.4 hours a day in service of others... but do-able. But I've never managed to make that shift to money and things.
And even if I succeed, what then? Can I then rest, knowing I've gone above and beyond? Paid my moral debt? Shouldn't what I give be based on, I don't know, what the world needs? Not some 10% rule? Hell, is 10% enough?
How much of what is mine mine? 90%? How much do I belong to God and the people around me? 10%? Perhaps I should give 90%, and keep 10% for myself. That sounds a lot more reflective of the reality of the situation. My success is about .5% my effort, with the other 99.5% being shared between the support of the people in my life, the systems in place within society, and the gifts given to me by the universe. Don't know if I can swing living on .5%. Not a bad goal, though.
Maybe I'll start with living on 10%.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The Journeying Universe
Suffering. We've all thought about it. Whether its the ardent atheist or the doubting devotee, the existence of suffering seems to confound our notion of God.
If God is all good, all knowing, and all powerful, we reason... Wouldn't God want a universe with no suffering, know how to make it, and have the power to pull it off?
But here's the thing. Suffering doesn't disprove the movement of goodness in our world. In fact, that we get so indignant that suffering exists is actually a strange kind of proof in God's plan. We sense a wrongness about suffering precisely because the universe tends toward goodness.
The universe exists as a continual outpouring of love. True, sometimes things seem broken, but the true measure of the plan is in its culmination. Suffering is bound in time, and contextualized in the history of the world.
So, the next time the existence of suffering starts gnawing at you, remember: It's all good in the end. If it ain't all good, it ain't the end.
Or, said another way: Creation itself is forged by the unstoppable journey toward completeness.
Whichever way you say it, both represent the simultaneous sentiments of "This too shall pass," and "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
If God is all good, all knowing, and all powerful, we reason... Wouldn't God want a universe with no suffering, know how to make it, and have the power to pull it off?
But here's the thing. Suffering doesn't disprove the movement of goodness in our world. In fact, that we get so indignant that suffering exists is actually a strange kind of proof in God's plan. We sense a wrongness about suffering precisely because the universe tends toward goodness.
The universe exists as a continual outpouring of love. True, sometimes things seem broken, but the true measure of the plan is in its culmination. Suffering is bound in time, and contextualized in the history of the world.
So, the next time the existence of suffering starts gnawing at you, remember: It's all good in the end. If it ain't all good, it ain't the end.
Or, said another way: Creation itself is forged by the unstoppable journey toward completeness.
Whichever way you say it, both represent the simultaneous sentiments of "This too shall pass," and "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Freedom
Doing good does not restrict my freedom.
It is not an imposition on my actions. Even if morality dictates one course of action amid many, it did not coerce me into choosing.
Acting morally is an act of the will. It is precisely my will that makes choices.
Being free is not chanting, "I have choices, I have choices, I have choices," but rather using choice to pick a path worth following.
Have you chosen a goal worth pursuing? Worth pursuing with conviction?
It is not an imposition on my actions. Even if morality dictates one course of action amid many, it did not coerce me into choosing.
Acting morally is an act of the will. It is precisely my will that makes choices.
Being free is not chanting, "I have choices, I have choices, I have choices," but rather using choice to pick a path worth following.
Have you chosen a goal worth pursuing? Worth pursuing with conviction?
Flip the Script
Most discussions of morality involve the fight between right and wrong, casting humans as fundamentally selfish (or evil, or bestial) creatures that must restrain themselves from doing wrong in order to do right. The moral actor has traits like a conscience to discern, restraint to control urges, and will to persevere.
What I am interested in is the underlying world that supports this mindset. It assumes that selfish acts have a sort of gravity, and that one who is moral must struggle in order to keep their path clear of doing bad. While I believe that some moral issues are indeed difficult, and some people live lives of constant moral tension, this paradigm is by no means ubiquitous.
I have a few issues. First, not all good choices are hard to make. Sometimes doing good is rather easy. In fact, it is the thing a moral actor wants the most! Consider helping your family, or your lover. Those impulses often far outweigh any selfish desire we may foster.
Secondly, this struggling mindset focuses the drama of right and wrong within the actor, which I think is a dangerous perspective. An action is right if it puts the situation in its best arrangement, good exists apart from the actor... at least in my little picture of the world. Seating good and bad within the person, though, makes morality about them. Suddenly people start striving to be good people, which, I'm sorry, while its seems nice, is actually a distraction. People should strive to do good, and if they think of good as in the world, it gets a bit easier to do.
Finally, casting ethical actions as struggles makes the intensity of an action related to the amount of struggle. The harder it was to make a decision, it would seem, the more moral the person who can still do right. While I have nothing but respect for those who make courageous decisions in difficult times, I think that person is both courageous and did good... not that they did more good. Again, the amount of good done is measured by the amount of good done in the world... it being hard to do doesn't actually increase the rightness of it being done. Besides, I suspect that sometimes people lock themselves in drawn out moral quandaries because it makes them better people. If it was really hard to do, that means they are good people. Just not the way I see it.
Now, behaving ethically does have an impact on the person. True, sometimes it is a tense and stressful act. But often it is a joyful one. Let me give you a few examples from my life. I think it is good to treat other people with goodwill. If you have ever met me, I was probably happy to see you and talk to you, and most likely, I treated you with respect. I think I am morally obligated to be generally good to people.
Is it a struggle?
Every once in a while... I'll admit it. People who are particularly rude, mean, or frustrating. And yes, there are some people who are just so annoying that its difficult to have a real conversation with them.
But for the very most part, more than 98% of the time, I'd wager, I really enjoy treating people well. Each new situation isn't another challenge; each new person isn't another burden. As I like doing it, every instance becomes an opportunity, a chance to do good.
Another example. I choose not to eat meat, or rather, I try to avoid any action that contributes to the death of an animal. I reason that so long as I can live without it, any animal death on my behalf is unnecessary. I believe that animals have at least enough intrinsic value that I should avoid unnecessary killing. More on this later.
Is is hard?
Yeah, sometimes. Every once in a while I find myself in a restaurant, very hungry, and I'm staring at a menu with little or no vegetarian options. I have to choose between not eating, eating something truly unappetizing, or eating meat. Tough, no lying.
But most of the time, I am not caught in this crossfire. For one, I avoid those restaurants, so that I don't have to have all that stress. But really, I usually eat at home, and I so long as my grocery trip is veg, my options at home are veg. Not only is it not hard, most of the time it's fun. I love when I find a absolutely delicious vegetarian food. Makes me really happy. Also, I feel a special kinship to animals. Might sound weird, but when I meet an animal, I meet them as something of an equal, and I am proud that I will never meet them as meat. It really isn't that strange, actually. If you helped save the people of a town from floods by sandbagging, wouldn't you feel a swell of pride meeting one of those people.
Doing good doesn't have to be torture. Rather, doing good is an opportunity to demonstrate your respect for the value of something or someone. Externally, it is an act of sanctification, where you bestow an expression of worth onto a person, place, or thing. Pretty cool. Internally, it is an act of compassionate transformation, where you hone your sensitivity and reinforce the habit of right action.
I catch the bugs in my apartment and let them go outside. Now, am I committed to the wellbeing of all insects and arachnids... not exactly. But while it is a bit harder to catch a fly then to up an off him, I am not put out by the extra effort. Rather, its feels really good, probably unreasonably good, to let that small creature into the world unharmed.
What I am interested in is the underlying world that supports this mindset. It assumes that selfish acts have a sort of gravity, and that one who is moral must struggle in order to keep their path clear of doing bad. While I believe that some moral issues are indeed difficult, and some people live lives of constant moral tension, this paradigm is by no means ubiquitous.
I have a few issues. First, not all good choices are hard to make. Sometimes doing good is rather easy. In fact, it is the thing a moral actor wants the most! Consider helping your family, or your lover. Those impulses often far outweigh any selfish desire we may foster.
Secondly, this struggling mindset focuses the drama of right and wrong within the actor, which I think is a dangerous perspective. An action is right if it puts the situation in its best arrangement, good exists apart from the actor... at least in my little picture of the world. Seating good and bad within the person, though, makes morality about them. Suddenly people start striving to be good people, which, I'm sorry, while its seems nice, is actually a distraction. People should strive to do good, and if they think of good as in the world, it gets a bit easier to do.
Finally, casting ethical actions as struggles makes the intensity of an action related to the amount of struggle. The harder it was to make a decision, it would seem, the more moral the person who can still do right. While I have nothing but respect for those who make courageous decisions in difficult times, I think that person is both courageous and did good... not that they did more good. Again, the amount of good done is measured by the amount of good done in the world... it being hard to do doesn't actually increase the rightness of it being done. Besides, I suspect that sometimes people lock themselves in drawn out moral quandaries because it makes them better people. If it was really hard to do, that means they are good people. Just not the way I see it.
Now, behaving ethically does have an impact on the person. True, sometimes it is a tense and stressful act. But often it is a joyful one. Let me give you a few examples from my life. I think it is good to treat other people with goodwill. If you have ever met me, I was probably happy to see you and talk to you, and most likely, I treated you with respect. I think I am morally obligated to be generally good to people.
Is it a struggle?
Every once in a while... I'll admit it. People who are particularly rude, mean, or frustrating. And yes, there are some people who are just so annoying that its difficult to have a real conversation with them.
But for the very most part, more than 98% of the time, I'd wager, I really enjoy treating people well. Each new situation isn't another challenge; each new person isn't another burden. As I like doing it, every instance becomes an opportunity, a chance to do good.
Another example. I choose not to eat meat, or rather, I try to avoid any action that contributes to the death of an animal. I reason that so long as I can live without it, any animal death on my behalf is unnecessary. I believe that animals have at least enough intrinsic value that I should avoid unnecessary killing. More on this later.
Is is hard?
Yeah, sometimes. Every once in a while I find myself in a restaurant, very hungry, and I'm staring at a menu with little or no vegetarian options. I have to choose between not eating, eating something truly unappetizing, or eating meat. Tough, no lying.
But most of the time, I am not caught in this crossfire. For one, I avoid those restaurants, so that I don't have to have all that stress. But really, I usually eat at home, and I so long as my grocery trip is veg, my options at home are veg. Not only is it not hard, most of the time it's fun. I love when I find a absolutely delicious vegetarian food. Makes me really happy. Also, I feel a special kinship to animals. Might sound weird, but when I meet an animal, I meet them as something of an equal, and I am proud that I will never meet them as meat. It really isn't that strange, actually. If you helped save the people of a town from floods by sandbagging, wouldn't you feel a swell of pride meeting one of those people.
Doing good doesn't have to be torture. Rather, doing good is an opportunity to demonstrate your respect for the value of something or someone. Externally, it is an act of sanctification, where you bestow an expression of worth onto a person, place, or thing. Pretty cool. Internally, it is an act of compassionate transformation, where you hone your sensitivity and reinforce the habit of right action.
I catch the bugs in my apartment and let them go outside. Now, am I committed to the wellbeing of all insects and arachnids... not exactly. But while it is a bit harder to catch a fly then to up an off him, I am not put out by the extra effort. Rather, its feels really good, probably unreasonably good, to let that small creature into the world unharmed.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Precarious Personhood
Whether or not something is seen as a person is of the utmost importance in moral thinking. While there are certainly extreme exceptions to the rule, most people in most situations will avoid doing ill to what they consider a person. In fact, the more exposed to the personhood of the subject (ie - the more we know them), the more the moral actor seeks the subject's good.
This being the case, it's important for this project to understand what makes a person, or rather, what makes a person seem like a person. This seeming is for the time what we are after, since we are trying to understand the process by which a moral actor affords consideration to what they perceive as persons.
In order to be considered a person, the thing in question must have a good of its own. A value to its thriving, apart from its instrumental value for others. This built-in value is the foundation of moral consideration, for without it, the thing only is given respect earned by the task it can be put in service of, and it can easily be sacrificed for the good of a person.
Consider the chunk of marble. While it may have value to an artist wanting to chisel it into a sculpture, or the quarry man who wants compensation for his hard work, the marble has no value of its own. It may be assigned an economic value, but will never get considered beyond its usefulness to persons.
Compare that to your best friend. While your best friend may too be part of an economy, selling time and effort for money or favors, your friend has a built-in value, a good of his or her own, that is to be respected over and above any functionalization. This is precisely why we are outraged by slavery, and really any system that mimics slavery.
Many moral thinkers stop with inherent good as the genesis of moral consideration. I contend there is another attribute that must coexist with inherent good in order for a thing to be a person (and afforded a persons rights). A thing must also have consideration for the good of persons in order to be a full person.
Consider the pit viper. The viper clearly has a good of its own. It wants to live, eat, and bear its young. But in the pursuit of its good, the viper has no respect for the goods of others. It violently strikes out at the world to achieve its ends. We have a word for creatures of this ilk. They aren't persons. They are beasts.
Beasts don't follow their dreams, they don't reason, they don't learn. Rather, they have instincts that drive their actions. This lack of inner substance, lack of consideration for others, cheapens their ends. While often left to their hunting, when their actions jeopardize the goods of persons... well, such a violence is unconscionable.
Consideration for the good of others is necessary for personhood. It should be noted that consideration is necessary for personhood, but not sufficient. If a thing is simply good for others but has no good of its own... well, it can simply be put in service of that which its improves with no moral issue. These things are seen as nurturers... nothing more. Plants are often placed in this category. They are living, and bear sustenance for others, but have no inherent value.
That which has a good but no consideration is a violent beast. That which has consideration but no good is a providing nurturer. Between these two stands the person, with its own good but capable of considering the good of others.
Now, why is this important? Many people have had their good stripped away by being jostled into the category of beast or nurturer. Human murderers, enemy soldiers, adversaries of any stripe, possibly dangerous strangers... once a person threatens our good, we can push them into the category of beast. Once the shift is made, we no longer have to consider their good. On the other end of the spectrum are voiceless laborers, mothers, subordinates, possibly useful strangers... people who's purpose seems to be to better our lives. By making them nurturers, they become subjugated to our own good and therefore ultimately lacking inherent worth.
Knowing this, be careful you do not create beasts and nurturers from persons. A person threatening your good should of course be stopped, but in a way that is respectful to their own good. Similarly, someone able to help you should of course be allowed, but only in a way that its respectful of their good.
We should also to be more than beast or nurturer. We dehumanize ourselves when we violate the sacred other by reducing them to mere function in our lives. We also dehumanize ourselves when we violate the sacred self by reducing ourselves to mere function in their lives.
If you have any doubt that this happens, consider hundreds of years of slavery. Consider spousal abuse and rape. Consider ordinary men killing the faceless, monstrous enemy.
The beast is just waiting put down; the plant is just waiting to be picked.
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