Philosophical Thought of the Day: Sept. 17th
Actuality and the Laws of Logic
Often in discussions with people, when the laws of logic come up, the conversations seems to run into problems. Especially around the question of conditionals. It seems some people have a problem with unactualized conditionals–in other words conditionals that either have false antecedents & consequents or conditionals that have indeterminate antecedent & consequents.
People seem to be under the impression that a conditional can only be true, if its antecedent & consequent is true. I think the general view can be put as follows,
(A) For any proposition P, if P is a conditional, then P is true if and only if the antecedent P1 and consequent P2 are true. P (P1 & P2) = T
It is ironic that this principle would need a true antecedent and consequent in order to be true — but nevermind that for now. Let’s suppose that is not a problem. Principle A face other problems — it is clearly false.
Example: If my car is out of gasoline & no one puts any more gasoline in the tank, then the car won’t start.
The example just given is true, whether the antecendent & consequent are true or not. In other words, I could be driving my car at a particular time t — in other words the antecedent & consequence are false — and the example is still true. Conditional statements are true independently of their parts for the simple reason that conditionals state what will happen in the event that their parts (antecedent and consequent) are true.
How we know conditionals to be true is another question — an epistemic (knowledge) question. That we know a conditional is true is another matter, and clearly possible.
Philosophical Thought of the Day: Sept. 16
Often when I tell people I am a philosophy major & after I have explained what philosophers do — what it means to be a philosopher — they often ask me why. ‘Why do you want to be a philosopher? Why do you want to philosophize?’ Of course often they are refering to what they think of as a bad financial and career decision.
But sometimes they are refering to the philosophizing itself — why should one philosophize about anything? Why ask about minds, existence or knowledge? Don’t we already know what those things are? Don’t I already know that p, and don’t I already know that I know it? So what is the point? It seems as if people are saying, for any (so called) philosophical puzzle, if everyone already knows that p, then it shouldn’t be taken seriously be philosophers. We already know that p. Therefore, p shouldn’t be discussed by philosophers.
Let us grant that people generally know that p — whatever p turns out to be. But that doesn’t mean that philosopher’s shouldn’t take about ‘knowing that p.’ After all, philosophers often talk just as much about what is known than what is unknown. Philosophers discuss the ordinary in a new way, and challenge conventional ways of thinking and knowing. Additionally there is something more to p, than knowing that p. It is knowing how S knows that p. How does S know that p?
Simply saying that S knows that p just restates the problem of how. By what means — what way — does S know that p. So even if we grant that everyone — or most everyone — knows that p, it leave unanswered the question of how S knows that p. In other words, there is still more for philosophers to discuss.
And as far as I can tell, philosophers will always have work to do. It’s more about the process than the conclusion!
Hugh Hewitt on Legal Tradition
I was just listening to Hugh Hewitt — who I rarely agree with on partisan matters and generally consider to be a Republican hack — when he was discussing the status of children born in the United States to illegal immigrants. Hewitt invoked past legal precident in support of his opinion (the specifics of which are irrelevant) as if that were sufficient to make his case.
Mr. Hewitt unwittingly accepts the following principle — or at the very least, must accept it to ground his assertion,
(L) For any legal matter m, if m is consistent with a legal precident, then m is morally & legally justified.
This principle may seem initially plausible — maybe not — so long as the precident to which is appeals is morally & legally justified. But this principle doesn’t say that; it simply says as long as m is consistent with current precident whatever that may be.
p1. If the decision d in the Dred Scott case is consistent with a legal precident p, then d is morally & legally justified (principle L)
p2. It is not the case the d.
p3. So, d is not consistent with p (MT 1,2)
Clearly p3 is wrong — or at the very least it could have been — in that the Dred Scott case was clearly consistent with p. So what is the problem. It’s not the modus tollens rule; at least I don’t want to go down that road. So what could it be? It is the conditional; principle L should be reformulated.
(L’) For any legal matter m, If m is consistent with legal precident & meets condition C (C being morally & legally permissible), then m is morally and legally justified.
Now perhaps (L’) has its problems. I don’t want to explore that here, but the point remains that a condition needs to be included that must be met in order for m to be justified — its takes more than legal precidence to justify a legal decision (this commits the fallacy of traditional wisdom).
So if we return to Hewitt’s assertion, he is stating that this particular legal matter m1 is consistent with precident and implicitly asserting that is meets condition C — either that or he would be ignoring the problem of something being immortal and yet consistent — without any justification.
This is simply begging the question. Once that is point is made, it becomes clear that altought Hewitt seems to be justifying his position by appealing to legal precidence, he is really simply assuming the necessary condition he needs in order to truly justify his position.
“He” and Gender-Neutrality
There is a tired old argument — there are many more, I am only addressing a specific type — for the claim that using “He” as a gender-neutral designator is sexist. It goes something like this:
1. Using ‘he’ implies all non-descript persons are male; 2. All non-descript persons are not male; 3. Language should accurately reflect reality; (from 2,3) 4. ‘He’ should not be used as a non-descript person.
This argument could be developed more, i.e. I am aware the argument can be stated more forcefully. I am developing a simpler version of the argument, so that it is easier to manage — not so that it will be easier to knock-down.
The point of constructing this argument is to get at the basic thrust of the argument: using ‘he’ is sexist because it is ususally used to designate a male, and so using it to designate a gender-less person is sexist. The argument seems to rest on a principle:
GP: For any person-designator p, if p can be used to designate a particular gender and only that gender in at least one usage, and not the other, then p should (ought) not be used to designate a gender-neutral person.
Is there any support for GP? Can an argument be presented to persuade us ‘he’ user that GP is correct?
The GP principle seems to be assuming that if we can find an instance of a pronoun being used to designate one gender, and yet not another, than that makes the usuage of that word sexist. It isn’t fair to one gender to use a word that can sometimes be used to designate a gender, and only that gender to the exclusion of the other.
But this argument, and GP principle — and other arguments that resemble this one — are based on a confusion. Confusing the practice of using a particular word a certain way, with the actual word itself.
It is clear from our everyday word usage that word can have different meanings. The word ‘he’ is no exception. The argument against using ‘he’ rests on another confusion as well: confusing the meaning of the ‘he’ when used gender-neutrally as if it is the same as using ‘he’ as a gender-specific designator.
So the confusions are two-fold:
(a) Confusing word-practice with the word itself. There is a difference between how a word is used and what the word itself. A word can be used in one way, and used in another. Using a word in specific way the majority of the time does not entail that the word cannot have another meaning — just because it is used a certain way, doesn’t mean it has to be used that way. The practice and meaning of a word are two different things
(b) Confusing the word itself with its different meanings. Often opponents of the ‘he’-term as being gender neutral treat the word as if it always means male, when clearly that is not the case. It is quite simple to see that the same word can have different meanings (ex., road, heart, love, fun …) To treat a word with different meanings, as if it always has the same meaning, or to treat word being used one way as if its being used in another way is to blur the distinction between the word itself and its meanings.
Parenting and Advice
In discussions between people with and without kids, it is very common for the one with kids to criticize the one without by saying something like, “you don’t know what its like until you have kids.” Implying of course, that one needs to actually have kids before one can empathize & give advice/criticism to those with kids.
Of course, this reply does nothing to address the quality of that advice, but it does have a point to it: understanding can be a long process, and often times involves being engaged in what you’re tying to learn.
There is another criticism of those without kids, that ususally comes from parents — and it is typically directed as kids who didn’t like how they were raised: “We did our best. Wait till you have kids, and you can see how hard it is.” This argument is a little different than the appeal to experience (above), and it has some problems with it.
1. Children have a right to complain about how they were raised, after all they are complaining about how they were raised from their perspective … that is the whole point! Whether they have kids, or understand what it was like for their parents is beside the point; that would only be relevant if the kids were saying they could do a better job had they been in the same situation — criticizing someone for something does not imply one could do better.
2. Having kids is irrelevant to evaluating one’s own life. If someone had a bad childhood, it was bad to them despite that fact that people at different times, places and relationships. In other words, it may change someone’s perspective — but changing one’s perspective alone doesn’t invalidate the old perspective.
Theism and Suffering
I have been a theist for quite some time now (a bit less than a year), as well as a Catholic. The conversion (from an atheist) was a long a very difficult one, and my thinking has changed considerably as a result.
However, I noticed recently a tension in some of my assumptions. It is a problem closely related to the problem of evil, and could be considered a particular instance of evil, that is a bit more personal than the traditional problem of evil. The problem goes something like this.
I have a girlfriend (Megan, M for short) who I love very much. But suppose M were to die (~M) tomorrow? I think that I would lose my faith both in Catholicism and theism. It seems that the world would have been a better place had Megan not died[~(~M)], and that her death is preventable. It can be stated as,
(1) For any actual world W1 with the event (~M), there is another one W2 which contains both [~(~M)] & retains the good of W1 all things considered.
From premise one, we cannot conclude much, since (a) it may not be true and, (b) it may not apply to everyone–it may be an agent-relative fact. But (1) isn’t an agent-relative fact, because,
(2) If God ought to prevent (~M) or actualize a world which contains [~(~M)], all things considered, then he ought prevent all M-type events, or actual a world in which M-type events do not happen, given that eliminating all M-type events does not diminish the good of W1 (in relation to W2), all thing considered.
If we accept (1), then (2) is uncontroversial, since (1) is of the nature such that accepting it entails (2). In other words, if God should have prevented Megan’s death (should she die), then qua God he should prevent unnecessary death as much as possible.
We still do not yet have a problem for theism (or Catholicism). We must add a third premise to get non-theism,
(3) In W1 (the actualized world) all M-type events have not been eliminated & W1 is constituted such that God could & ought to eliminate more M-type events than have been eliminated (or actualize W2, which contains few or no M-type events), such that a greater good is not lost in the eliminate of certain M-type events, all things considered.
Of course (3), entials (4).
(4) With regard to W1 (as opposed to W2, W3 … Wn), God likely does not exist.
But should we conclude that (4) is correct? I have no idea. Intuitively I would say yes, but I at the same time I realize that (1) and (3) are very controversial. Most theists would probably attack (3), but I think I need to deal more exclusively with (1).
Perhaps its more than just the problem of evil. Maybe its because the potential evil would be so personal, should I lose Megan.
Burgess-Jackson and What Philosophers Do, Part Two
Keith Burgess-Jackson has argued on a number of occasions (see here and here) that philosophers have no factual expertise, and that their expertise is solely conceptual [he sometimes says logical]. He has argued that philosophers have no more business making legal, social, ethical or scientific claims than anyone else who lack training in those respective fields.
When it comes to specific disciplines, Dr. Burgess-Jackson is probably correct to criticize philosophers, after all there are a number of subjects in which philosophers are not trained qua philosophers. But this point is irrelevant to his broader point for at least three reasons:
1. Philosophers do have factual training. They are trained in the history of their own field. Of course they do not study their past in quite the same way a historian would, nor should they be expected to do so. However, they do possess knowledge of their discipline that experts in other fields lack qua experts in other fields (i.e. the history of philosophy is not standard training for an economist, even though economists may have knowledge of such on an individual level).
2. Dr. Burgess-Jackson is taking a position with regard to meta-philosophy. He is arguing that there is no factual data/problem which is by its very nature philosophical. In other words, for any problem, the factual aspect of that problem is decidedly non-philosophical. But why should we accept this? It sounds so reductionist, so to speak. What of the mind/body problem? What of other numerous metaphysical problems that are by nature philosophical. What of political philosophy, which deals with the philosophical aspects of political theory? These are not factual, in some sense, and yet specific to philosophers. (Independent philosophical problems).
3. Dr. Burgess-Jackson is also denying another important aspect of philosophy. Philosophical aspects of a subject matter, that depend on the subject matter for their emergence and yet are unsolvable by the subject matter. For example, the social sciences have a number of philosophical problems which arise within the context of the social sciences, are philosophical in nature and are yet not solvable by the social sciences for the very reason that they are philosophical in nature. (Dependent philosophical problems).
In summary, philosophers who think they are scientists or economists can come off as ridiculous, however philosophers who think they have no factual expertise are short changing themselves and helping to buy into the myth that philosophers are irrelevant these days.
Compatiblism and Theism
There more I think about it (which doesn’t really guarantee its truth), the more it seems that if compatibalism (or determinism) is true, then theism is likely false. The relationship can be expressed like,
[1] (CT) C v D –> >> ~T
(CT) ‘If compatibalism or (~xor) determinism is true, then theism is likely (>>) false.’
In other words, if God made the world such that humans are determined to be the way they are by both external/internal factors OR if God made the world such that humans were determined internally, then he could have made the world such that humans never choose the bad, but always choose the good.
[2] (e) D v C —> ~E
(e) ‘If determinism is true OR compatibalism is true, then God could have created humans such that they did not choose evil.’
So, it follows that incompatibalism is consistent with both theism and atheism,
(IT) I –> T v ~T
(IT) ‘If incompatibalism is true, then either theism is true or theism is false.’
But there are two more considerations that are important in this atheological argument,
If traditional theism is true, then God is a necessary being. If God is a necessary being, then God exists in all possible worlds.
[3] (Tx –> Nx) & (Nx –> Px)
‘If theism is true, then God is necessary AND if God is necessary, then God exists in all possible world’
And finally, it seems prima facie plausible to say that there exists at least a possible world such that it contains beings of which determinism OR compatiblism is true with regard to the beings freedom AND that these beings commit acts of evil.
[4] (PE) (Dx v Cx) & (Ex)
‘There exists at least one possible world such that determinism or compatiblism is true of that world AND that world contains moral evil.’
[5] (a) ‘[4] –> ~T’; (b) [4]; (C) ~T
So from [1] – [4] it follows that, if [4] is true, then theism is false. [4] is true, so theism is false.
This follows from [1]-[4]. These premises seem to be reasonable. But of course in philosophy that is not much of a guarantee.
— Apendix A – Overview of the Proof —
[1] (CT) C v D –> >> ~T
[2] (e) D v C —> ~E
[3] (Tx –> Nx) & (Nx –> Px)
[4] (PE) (Dx v Cx) & (Ex)
[5] (a) ‘[4] –> ~T’; (b) [4]; (C) ~T (from 1, 2, 3, 4)
Anarchy and Political Philosophy
It is unfortunate that very few political philosopher take anarchy seriously enough to comment on it, not to mention defending it. Two prominent examples would be Richard Taylor and Robert Nozick, both of whom comment on anarchism and both ultimately reject it.
Of there are a number of authors who have defended anarchism, such as Colin Ward, and historically Bakunin and Proudhon. But these thinkers are not formally trained as professional philosophers.
The only philosopher who has defended anarchy to my knowledge is Robert Paul Wolff in his In Defense of Anarchism.
This is most unfortunate. If anarchy is wrong (and I am not convinced that it is), its weaknesses may perhaps give us some insight into how government is justified at all. It is commonly thought that the government can be justified quite easily, so easily that many people do not even bother trying. For isn’t it obvious that people are too primative and brutish to be without a ruling power.
Democracy is a case in point. People often assume that consent is a sufficient (perhaps not necessary) condition for governing justifiably. In other words, consent is a sufficient condition for x. But this simply does not follow without further argumentation. Consent may be given my a group of children to perform a sexual act s on them, but this is not a sufficient condition for s being morally justified.
So basically, it is not enough to say that people consent to being government. The question still remains, is that sufficient for the state to rule justifiably? In other words, justification of the power of the state is still lacking. (Of course it also does not follow that the state cannot be justified).
The point being that wrongheaded or not, political philosophy could learn a lot from anarchy.
Gay Marriage and Definitions
I’ve a number of people make what I would term a definitional argument against gay marriage, one of them has even been a philosopher (Burgess-Jackson), unfortunately; a philosopher should know better.
The definitional argument states that since the definition of marriage involves a single man, and a single woman. And so from that, we can conclude (it is argued) that marriage is a union of a man and women. So, gay marriage is a misnomer.
First, the definitional argument trades on a type of definition known as a descriptive definition. Descriptive definitions describe how a word is used in contemporary society, and perhaps also how it has been used. However, this is the fallacy of non-sequitor. Why does it follow that because marriage has been defined by people, and it currently used as a word which means a union of straight people that it should continue to be used in this way.
That is why the definitional argument also commits the fallacy of equivocation going from a descriptive definition to a normative definition–because the word marriage is used in a certain way, it should continue to be used in this way. But it confuses two different notions of definitions, what is the case and what should be the case. There are numerous cases of things are and shouldn’t be, and things that should be and aren’t.
So from this equivocation we can conclude that gay marriage makes little sense? But that is yet to be established, marriage should be a certain way because that is way it has always been?! That is simply begging the question.
Existential Absurdity and the Meaning of Life
Life seems to be meaningless in the face of certain death:
“All the evidence goes to show that what we regard as our mental life is bound up with brain structure and organized bodily energy. Therefore, it is rational to suppose that mental life cease when bodily life ceases. The argument is only on of probability, but it is as strong as those upon which most scientific conclusions are based.” (Bertrand Russell, What I Believe).
This paints a very bleak picture of the way things are. It is a view that, if pushed far enough, leads to nihilism. To make the point more clearly, suppose I said that you were going to die in a few minutes. Perhaps you were going to be the victim of a mob-style execution. How much would your life, the remaining few minutes, mean to you? Of course I could be accused of committing the fallacy of composition; it does not follow from the fact that because a small part of my life becomes meaningless before my death that a whole life made up of such ‘parts’ is meaningless. But does this follow. It is not necessarily fallacious.
Suppose your life consisted of small segments each ending (you believed permanently) with a mob-style execution. You always find yourself about fifteen minutes from being executed by mobsters. After you are shot, you find yourself fifteen minutes from being executed. Over and over again. You do not remember being executed previously. Each time seems to be the first. Would such a life, eighty years of this cycle, be a meaningful life? Why not?
Suppose we think about it another way. Suppose you have thirty minutes to live before being executed? Would those thirty minutes be meaningful? What about an hour? A day? A month? A year? The point is this, at what point does your life become meaningful in spite of your certain death?!!
“There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest–whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine to twelve categories–come afterward. These are games; one must first answer. And if it is true, as Nietzsche claims, that a philosopher, to deserve our respect, must preach by example, you can appreciate the importance of that reply, for it will precede the definitive act. These are the facts the heart can feel; yet they call for careful study before they can become clear to the intellect.” (Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus).
But then on the other hand, how would prolonging a meaningless life make it meaningful. Would continuing the cycle of mob-style executions every fifteen minutes for eternity make that life meaningful? No. The length of one’s life is not a sufficient condition for a meaningful life; it must to be a necessary condition.
“A finite universe is unimaginable, inconceivable. An infinite universe is unimaginable, inconceivable. Doubtless the universe is neither finite nor infinite, since the finite and infinite are only man’s ways of thinking about it; in any case, that finiteness and infinitness should only be ways of thinking and speaking is also something inconceivable, unimaginable. We cannot take a single step beyond our own inpotence; outside those walls I feel sick and giddy. If the wall is no longer there, the gulf opens at my feet and I am seized with dizziness.” (Eugene Ionesco, Human Purpose in a Meaningless World).
This brings us to an argument for God based on religion experience. (Sometimes offered as a solution to life’s meaningless, unfortunately).
The argument in its naive form, usually goes something life this: I have an experience, that is apparently an experience of God. This experience is sensual in much the same as perceiving that someone is standing behind me when I cannot see the directly, or perhaps (put more strongly) I sense God directly analogously to see a tree outside.
The problem with such an argument is that is can be paralleled by an unbeliever. Jean-Paul Sartre says something similar about his atheism:
“So there you are. It’s pretty thin. God existed, but I didn’t concern myself with him at all. And then one day at La Rochelle, while waiting for the Machado girls who used to keep me company every morning on my way to lycee, I grew impatient at their lateness and, to while away the time, decided to think about God. ‘Well’ I said ‘he doesn’t exist.’ It was something authentically self-evident, although I have no idea any more what it was based on. And then it was over and done with. I never thought about it again; I was no more concerned with that dead God than I had been bothered about the living God. I imagine it would be hard to find a less religious nature than mine. I settled the question once and for all at the age of twelve. Much later I studied religious proofs and atheist arguments. I appraised the fortunes of their disputes. I was fond of saying that Kant’s objection did not affect Descartes’ ontological proof. But all that struck me as hardly any more alive than the Quarrel of Ancients and Moderns. I think I ought to say all this because, as I have said, I am affected by moralism, and because moralism often has its source in religion. But with me it was nothing of the kind. Besides, the truth is I was brought up and educated by relatives and teachers most of whom were champions of secular morality and everywhere sought to replace religious morality by it.” (Jean-Paul Sartre, The War Diaries).
The theist might argue something like:
1) If I have a direct experience of God, then I have good reason to believe in God.
2) I have a direct experience of God.
3) So, I have good reason to believe in God.
Modeling a counter-argument after Sartre’s experience, we can formulate an argument for atheism that is very similar the the naive argument for God’s existence from religious experience:
1′) If I have a direct experience of the absense of God (given God’s nature), then I have good reason for being an atheist.
2′) I have a direct experience of the absense of God.
3′) So, I have good reason for being an atheist.
Of course an obvious objection to my naive argument for God’s nonexistence is that one cannot prove a negative. (Which is itself a negative). This is false. Negatives are similar to positives in that we can provide both deductive and inductive arguments for a negative claim, e.g. A circle is not round. A logically false negative claim. Inductively, there is likely no intelligent alien life, given evidence x. If x is inductively strong, then we have a strong inductive argument for a negative claim.
Given the nature of God and the type of experience both the theist and atheist arguments are working with the objection fails. They are both, given inductive strength, good arguments. Which is why the issue is an inductive one and not one of a negative claim not being provable.
Additionally, perceiving something does not necessarily prove that it exists. After all, I could be dreaming or be in a matrix-like world. I could simply be mistaken. Or, as it relates to an experience of God, I may simply be fooled, given that there are alternative explanations in terms of brain chemistry for religious experience. The point being that apparrently percieving God is not sufficient for an inductively strong argument.
One cannot appeal solely to how many people believe in God or not. It must be in their reasons for believing which leads us back to the inductive strength of each argument–and perhaps a cumulative case for each side. The population of the earth could believe that it was flat and this would not make the earth flat (and yes, I am assuming a version of realism, I know).
—-
Having become recently single, I have had much time to contemplate loneliness (and love). Both as it relates to our human relationships and as it relates to the world. I think (a number of) this distinction is important. Take loneliness as it relates to human relationships, particularly love relationships. What is the nature of this loneliness? Is it longing for a historical situation, which might be recreated and yet does not satisfy?
I often think about getting back into the relationship that recently ended. Would that satisfy me? Would my loneliness go away? My loneliness for a particular individual (my former partner) might, but this is not certain. It also may be the case that I return to this relationship and yet still long for what was. In other words, the problem is a historical one, something from the past. And not something which any current state can fix. Nothing in the present can fix this state of individual loneliness. Were I to travel back in time and replace my past self, or simply watch from the sideline, I would not solve my problem of loneliness. It is historical, something which is not even solved by time travel.
But what has this to do with cosmic loneliness? It seems that the meaninglessness of life, cosmic loneliness and the religious experience of atheism are all closely linked; yet still independent.
So what is cosmic loneliness? It is the feeling that we (humans), and I (personally) are alone in a cold and indifferent universe. I have noticed with the passing of my recent relationship that my individual loneliness has gone up, along with my cosmic loneliness. That cosmic loneliness is more obvious with the loss of someone close.
Do I need medication? Perhaps. And perhaps this medication would make me feel happy and rid me of my loneliness, both individual and cosmic. But does it follow from that there is no reason for cosmic loneliness, or that cosmic loneliness is reducible to a brain state(s)? The answer is no. It could still be the case the cosmic loneliness is justified and that this feeling is more than simply a brain state. The point being that this reductionism is not a scientific fact, but rather a philosophical assumption. An existential would say that medication masks the cosmic loneliness, but that it is still justified and that cosmic loneliness is still there.
Baggini, Philosophizing and Blogging
Julian Baggini has got to be one of my favorite living philosophers; he’s a least on a top twenty list of some kind. I have a couple of his books, he wrote his doctoral on personal identity (which is what I want my doctorate to focus on) and he is generally clear headed and insightful.
I recently visited his website, looked through some of his materials and came across a link his blog. The strange thing was that Dr. Baggini’s blog contained only one entry explaining why he thought blogging was a waste of time. The entry also contains two justifications for his not blogging on a continual basis–since he has at least blogged long enough to explain why he doesn’t blog.
His first claim was that it was unhealthy for someone to spend too much time reading the ‘ramblings’ of any one person. His second claim was that he thought it was a waste of his and the reader’s time.
(This may seem like a mundane thing, but philosophers have often been acused of this. Besides, for a number of philosophers to blog on a regular basis without a few basic responses to criticism of blogging seems a bit ironic).
There is a problem with Dr. Baggini’s argument against blogging (his first justification). The assumptions made by Baggini are that the practice of blogging is solely for others to read AND that this reading must be done on a continual basis. His argument at least presupposes these two assumptions. But why should we accept them? Should bloggers think of themselves as publishers of ramblings?
Blogs can fill at least two other roles: allowing one a bit of practice at philosophizing on a daily basis and allowing the recording of philosophical progress in a way that is chronological and cumulative.
Also, why should people visit a blog every day? Isn’t this more a criticism of people viewing habits than the practice of blogging itself? It seem relatively reasonable to state the reading too much of anything can (potentially) be a waste of time. And so this falls on the reader and not the blogger, since this may not be the intention of the blogger to begin with.
With that, I think there are good reasons both of have a blog and read blogs regularly.
Burgess-Jackson and What Philosophers Do
Keith Burgess-Jackson is at it again. His conception of philosophy and philosophers is so limited that it amazes me. KBJ seems to think that in discussions such as those concerning Intelligent Design, philosophers are nothing more than glorified logicians, and thus that their opinions are not more important or informed than a ‘common’ person.
His most recent post quotes the philosophy of law Richard Posner who happens to agree with KBJ. An argument for limiting philosophy and philosophers in such a way can be formulated as follows,
1. If philosophers are simply ‘glorified’ logicians, then their expertise is too limited to make many public policy pronoucements.
2. Philosophers are simply ‘glorified’ logicians.
3. So, their expertise is too limited to make public policy pronoucements.
But why should we accept any of these premises? I would grant KBJ the first premise. And of course three follows from one and two since the argument is valid. But two is questionable. There are two problems with it (at least); first it begs the question, and secondly there are numerous counter examples.
First, accepting the first premise rests on two contingencies, that there are no counter-examples of premise two and that there are some examples of two, which leads to my second point.
There are counter examples. Part of the issues involving ID is, (1) whether or not ID qualifies as science and (2) whether we should teach ID in a science, another subject or not at all.
Much of this revolves around the philosophy of science, philosophy of biology, political and social philosophy. But aren’t these subjects which philosophers excel at? Aren’t professional philosophers trained to deal with these topics. Yes! Of course they are.
Additionally, it would seems the philosophers need a grasp of much empirical data (philosophy of science and philosophy of biological), a good historical and contemporary grasp of theories and ideas (political and social philosophy) and how they relate to one another in answering the issues which revolve around the ID debate. Testing theories, building theories, putting theories in their historical context, criticizing the views of dissenters, constructing cogent arguments. These are all relevant to professional philosophers.
But you would never guess that from KBJ’s meta-philosophical reductionism. It is unfortunate.
Philosophers and the Practical
There is a certain element of practicality about living in the world. Not just any possible world, but this world. Living in this world for a certain type of person is difficult.
It is especially difficult for the philosopher. Some often suppose that it is because practicality is incompatible with philosophy and philosophers. There may be an element of difficulty with incorporating philosophy and practicality. But it does not follow from this that philosophy and practicality are incompatible.
The world as it is, seems very ‘everyday.’ To put it in a Heideggerian spirit, the everydayness of the world is overwhelming. This everydayness can be overwhelming to the philosopher who concerns himself with a critical and rational approach to the world.
Why? For two reasons (probably more), because of need and irrationality. Philosophers must pay bills, go to the grocery store, sleep. They find themselves thrust into the world and must deal and make free choices in the world, follow their projects and manage to survival long enough to philosophize.
But also irrationality. What do I mean by this? Suffering, meaninglessness, cosmic loneliness and the Other. How does the public see philosophy and philosophers? It seems that this adds both to the everydayness of the world and to the difficult of being a philosopher now and for all time, past and future.
Welcome
This is a new philosophy blog. I recently moved from Google Blogger. Blogger lacks the user-friendly features of WordPress. I should be working on a new post before long … so stay tuned.
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