This piece by Johann Hari seems to me to be filled with wisdom. Hari knows that there is often something a bit distasteful about the nay-saying of people who yammer on about overpopulation - but he also knows they (let's be honest ... we) have a point.
Hari doesn't say anything that was new to me, and the conclusion that he comes to is one I agree with. Still, he says it very well indeed, better than I could have in this case.
He concludes:
So after studying the evidence, I am left in a position I didn’t expect. Yes, the argument about overpopulation is distasteful, it is often discussed inappropriately, and it is far from being a panacea-solution – but it can’t be dismissed entirely. It will be easier for six billion people to cope on a heaving, boiling planet than for nine or ten billion – and we will only get there by freeing women to make their own reproductive choices. To achieve this green goal, it’s necessary need to mix some oestrogen into the environmentalist palette.
I'm not sure why he didn't expect to come to this conclusion. It seems to be obviously the correct one. Still, whether or not he expected to say the things he does ... they seem to me to be pretty sensible. Good on yer, Johann.
About Me
- Russell Blackford
- Australian philosopher, literary critic, legal scholar, and professional writer. Based in Newcastle, NSW. My latest books are THE TYRANNY OF OPINION: CONFORMITY AND THE FUTURE OF LIBERALISM (2019); AT THE DAWN OF A GREAT TRANSITION: THE QUESTION OF RADICAL ENHANCEMENT (2021); and HOW WE BECAME POST-LIBERAL: THE RISE AND FALL OF TOLERATION (2024).
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Jerry Coyne and Mark Oppenheimer on the LA humanism conference (and some random observations)
Jerry Coyne has a nice comment over here on this article by Mark Oppenheimer, entitled "Atheists Debate How Pushy To Be", which covers the recent Council for Secular Humanism conference in Los Angeles. Here's Oppenheimer's spin on the whole thing:
They agreed on two things: People can be good without religion, and religion has too much influence. But they disagreed about how stridently to make those claims.
Well, Oppenheimer is on to something here. Publicly forthright atheists currently seem to be locked in a debate about what it is smart, or nice, or effective to say - where "effective" may depend on your chosen goals. I think that this debate is something of a distraction, and I wish we could avoid it, but I don't think it's possible. So, against my wishes, I find myself involved in it. I'm currently running a series of posts (more in the series to come soon) commenting on Philip Kitcher's views, since these seem to provide the best critique so far of the "New Atheism" - perhaps not surprisingly since they come from someone who could almost be classified as a "New Atheist" himself but has a slightly different agenda from, say, Richard Dawkins. In the upshot, I'll doubtless keep blogging about this issue: I think it's necessary to talk about it, even though it's not my favourite topic at all.
Although there are a couple of snide comments, such as the comparison between atheists and Star Trek fans, which tends to poke fun at both, the Oppenheimer article is generally pretty good in the sense of being fairly straight reportage. The bit at the end, quoted by Jerry, is well worthwhile, so I'll also quote some of it:
“I’m not ‘out’ at my workplace,” said the woman, Claire, a 27-year-old arts administrator who asked that her last name not be used. “Because most people think atheists have no morals, I could damage the organization if I’m honest about where I stand on the issue,” she said.
Mr. Myers and other “confrontationalists” surely do alienate some potential Christian allies. But they may also give comfort to people like Claire, who feel like an invisible minority. Mr. Myers is way out of the closet as an atheist — proudly, outrageously so. We’re here, he’s saying. And we don’t believe. And we have science and reason on our side. Get used to it.
Yes, good. My only caveat about this (and Jerry's comment) is that it's a very American perspective - as is Chris Mooney's perspective of, "Don't frighten the religious demographic."
Even in countries such as Australia and those of Europe, which are far more secular than the United States, there is some point in standing up to challenge the epistemic, moral, and political authority of religion. Kitcher's analysis may be helpful to us with this. In these more secular countries, the percentage of out-and-out religious believers, in Kitcher's sense, may be quite low. Most people may fall into his secular, mythically self-conscious, and doctrinally indefinite groups. Nonetheless, many of them may tend to cede a certain degree of moral authority to religious leaders. Even when they putting arguments that have been given secular "translations", religious leaders are accorded a degree of deference, as if they are moral experts. Quite weak arguments can gain a, well, halo effect if put by people who are accorded moral authority.
It's worth reminding people that religious leaders are not moral experts. When we point this out, we may not cut much ice with Kitcher's religious believers - the people who really do base their goals, values, and so on, on supernatural doctrines. But we may well cut some ice with people in the other categories, who may instinctively accord more authority to religious leaders than is really justified.
Kitcher thinks - as I'll get to in a later post - that we have reasons not to engage in breaking spells, debunking delusions, and so on at all costs. Perhaps. That thought may give us some guidance about when to refrain from mockery and satire. But this cuts both ways. Many people who fall into the mythically self-conscious and doctrinally indefinite camps may be quite happy to be reminded, even through satire, that religious leaders don't have the kind of authority they so often claim. Even setting aside the special situation of the US, where various unusual circumstances apply, a more sophisticated awareness of the range of religious belief may well encourage us to fine-tune our approach, but not in all cases by turning the dial in the direction of being softer on religion.
They agreed on two things: People can be good without religion, and religion has too much influence. But they disagreed about how stridently to make those claims.
Well, Oppenheimer is on to something here. Publicly forthright atheists currently seem to be locked in a debate about what it is smart, or nice, or effective to say - where "effective" may depend on your chosen goals. I think that this debate is something of a distraction, and I wish we could avoid it, but I don't think it's possible. So, against my wishes, I find myself involved in it. I'm currently running a series of posts (more in the series to come soon) commenting on Philip Kitcher's views, since these seem to provide the best critique so far of the "New Atheism" - perhaps not surprisingly since they come from someone who could almost be classified as a "New Atheist" himself but has a slightly different agenda from, say, Richard Dawkins. In the upshot, I'll doubtless keep blogging about this issue: I think it's necessary to talk about it, even though it's not my favourite topic at all.
Although there are a couple of snide comments, such as the comparison between atheists and Star Trek fans, which tends to poke fun at both, the Oppenheimer article is generally pretty good in the sense of being fairly straight reportage. The bit at the end, quoted by Jerry, is well worthwhile, so I'll also quote some of it:
“I’m not ‘out’ at my workplace,” said the woman, Claire, a 27-year-old arts administrator who asked that her last name not be used. “Because most people think atheists have no morals, I could damage the organization if I’m honest about where I stand on the issue,” she said.
Mr. Myers and other “confrontationalists” surely do alienate some potential Christian allies. But they may also give comfort to people like Claire, who feel like an invisible minority. Mr. Myers is way out of the closet as an atheist — proudly, outrageously so. We’re here, he’s saying. And we don’t believe. And we have science and reason on our side. Get used to it.
Yes, good. My only caveat about this (and Jerry's comment) is that it's a very American perspective - as is Chris Mooney's perspective of, "Don't frighten the religious demographic."
Even in countries such as Australia and those of Europe, which are far more secular than the United States, there is some point in standing up to challenge the epistemic, moral, and political authority of religion. Kitcher's analysis may be helpful to us with this. In these more secular countries, the percentage of out-and-out religious believers, in Kitcher's sense, may be quite low. Most people may fall into his secular, mythically self-conscious, and doctrinally indefinite groups. Nonetheless, many of them may tend to cede a certain degree of moral authority to religious leaders. Even when they putting arguments that have been given secular "translations", religious leaders are accorded a degree of deference, as if they are moral experts. Quite weak arguments can gain a, well, halo effect if put by people who are accorded moral authority.
It's worth reminding people that religious leaders are not moral experts. When we point this out, we may not cut much ice with Kitcher's religious believers - the people who really do base their goals, values, and so on, on supernatural doctrines. But we may well cut some ice with people in the other categories, who may instinctively accord more authority to religious leaders than is really justified.
Kitcher thinks - as I'll get to in a later post - that we have reasons not to engage in breaking spells, debunking delusions, and so on at all costs. Perhaps. That thought may give us some guidance about when to refrain from mockery and satire. But this cuts both ways. Many people who fall into the mythically self-conscious and doctrinally indefinite camps may be quite happy to be reminded, even through satire, that religious leaders don't have the kind of authority they so often claim. Even setting aside the special situation of the US, where various unusual circumstances apply, a more sophisticated awareness of the range of religious belief may well encourage us to fine-tune our approach, but not in all cases by turning the dial in the direction of being softer on religion.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Sue Blackmore on "aggressive" atheists
I'm a bit late coming across this article from Comment is Free by Sue Blackmore (one of the many wonderful authors in, ahem, 50 Voices of Disbelief: Why We Are Atheists). It's still worth a read if you haven't come across from any other source.
Blackmore concludes:
Here on Cif, we were once asked, "Are there beliefs to die for?" And I replied that I would fight, and if necessary die, for women's freedom of the kind I have enjoyed all my life. I would certainly fight against the establishment of sharia law, and I should remember this when I say I don't want a fight. Yet these extremes are not likely, while the Church of England is all around us, and services such as this one presumably occur all the time. It is they, not I, who are girding their loins, taking up their shields and breastplates, sharpening their swords of the spirit and demanding a fight.
And they call me aggressive.
Blackmore concludes:
Here on Cif, we were once asked, "Are there beliefs to die for?" And I replied that I would fight, and if necessary die, for women's freedom of the kind I have enjoyed all my life. I would certainly fight against the establishment of sharia law, and I should remember this when I say I don't want a fight. Yet these extremes are not likely, while the Church of England is all around us, and services such as this one presumably occur all the time. It is they, not I, who are girding their loins, taking up their shields and breastplates, sharpening their swords of the spirit and demanding a fight.
And they call me aggressive.
Some customer reviews of 50 Voices of Disbelief
These are interesting - I have no idea why they all turned up so suddenly, but there you go. Check them out.
H/T Ophelia Benson
H/T Ophelia Benson
Prosecution calls for acquittal of Wilders on all charges
My source of information on this is my regular commenter, DEEN, who has been following the Geert Wilders trial. See this thread.
It may seem odd that the prosecution is calling for acquittal, but even in the common law system of criminal justice, public officials such as prosecutors are there to help achieve a just outcome - it is not their job to secure a conviction at all costs. I don't know anything about the Dutch system, specifically, but I would guess that this applies even more in what I take to be a more inquisitorial process. DEEN or others can correct me or comment as they wish, but my guess is that the prosecutors in a case like this are more like a barrister appointed to assist the commissioners at a royal commission (i.e., "counsel assisting") than like, say, police prosecutors at a trial in a local criminal court in a common law country.
In any event, we now await the verdict in early November.
Though some people may think that Wilders is not a worthy person to be getting sympathetic attention, freedom of speech applies to everyone, and this case is an important test of how its boundaries will be regarded in those European jurisdictions that are very strong on legal discouragement of hate speech.
Let me be clear about another thing. I am a free speech advocate, but not a free speech absolutist. I do see a role for defamation law, though I think it should be framed quite narrowly. I also see a role for the state, in at least some circumstances, identifying a category of extreme hate propaganda and trying to prevent it. There may also be a cogent case to ban some kinds of pornography.
In all these cases, it's difficult to know where to draw the line, but that doesn't mean it can be drawn just anywhere. I'll set issues to do with pornography to one side, as they seem to be a bit different and they become emotional enough to derail a thread. That to one side, I don't think the concerns that justify some kind of defamation law simply scale up to the level of groups in society. Nor do concerns about hate speech necessarily scale down to the individual level.
If someone calls me a rat or a cockroach, perhaps repeatedly, it's insulting and as the social psychology research says it may certainly affect how people feel about me subconsciously. But it probably won't cause people who know me to shun me. It's not the kind of thing that defamation law usually addresses. It would be far more damaging if someone said, sounding credible, that I have Nazi connections or that I'm a pedophile, or that I once got away with committing a serious crime.
But imagine for the moment that we're living in the world of X-Men. Claims that mutants as a group have Nazi connections or practice pedophilia or commit crimes may be credible and damaging. Think of the blood libels against the Jews. But, depending on the circumstances they may just seem like incredible generalisations made by bigots. If I have some nice mutants living next door, maybe I'll be subconsciously influenced (think of the uneasiness that a lot of white people in the US feel around black people because of stereotypes that the latter are potentially violent). All the same, those of us dealing with mutants at work or in our neighborhoods are unlikely to shun them over these accusations, and they certainly won't shun each other. In many circumstances, where accusations are made against a large group, they are prima facie far less plausible and effective than when made against an individual.
These sorts of claims, by themselves, may be socially tolerable. And it's even possible that there may be a publc interest in airing them. Imagine mutant culture has developed in certain ways that are disturbing and merit public discussion (say a charismatic mutant leader has gathered a following who look on Homo sapiens with disdain; if this looks to be true, we'd better discuss it publicly, even at the risk of some commentators getting some of the facts wrong). Discussions of the alleged wrongs of mutant culture may turn out to be needed in a democratic society, and they may be less damaging than relentless campaigns simply depicting mutants as rats or cockroaches - though a successful campaign of hate will contain speech of both kinds.
The moral of the story is that if we're going to have laws that create exceptions to freedom of speech, we can't simply draw analogies, or scale up or down, from one situation to another. In each case, we need to identify the mischief we're trying to address and come up with regulation that addresses it in a narrow, targetted way that does the minimum of damage to the norm of freedom.
In the case of Wilders, I don't know all the accusations against him in precise detail - it's difficult to get a handle on this while relying on English-language sources. But as far as I can tell, all or most of what he is accused of should fall within (what I consider) the proper protections of freedom of speech. At least some of it is proper matter for publc debate. If he's found guilty of anything, I hope it turns out to be something that most reasonable people really would consider beyond the bounds of tolerance. At the moment, I don't see anything like that.
It may seem odd that the prosecution is calling for acquittal, but even in the common law system of criminal justice, public officials such as prosecutors are there to help achieve a just outcome - it is not their job to secure a conviction at all costs. I don't know anything about the Dutch system, specifically, but I would guess that this applies even more in what I take to be a more inquisitorial process. DEEN or others can correct me or comment as they wish, but my guess is that the prosecutors in a case like this are more like a barrister appointed to assist the commissioners at a royal commission (i.e., "counsel assisting") than like, say, police prosecutors at a trial in a local criminal court in a common law country.
In any event, we now await the verdict in early November.
Though some people may think that Wilders is not a worthy person to be getting sympathetic attention, freedom of speech applies to everyone, and this case is an important test of how its boundaries will be regarded in those European jurisdictions that are very strong on legal discouragement of hate speech.
Let me be clear about another thing. I am a free speech advocate, but not a free speech absolutist. I do see a role for defamation law, though I think it should be framed quite narrowly. I also see a role for the state, in at least some circumstances, identifying a category of extreme hate propaganda and trying to prevent it. There may also be a cogent case to ban some kinds of pornography.
In all these cases, it's difficult to know where to draw the line, but that doesn't mean it can be drawn just anywhere. I'll set issues to do with pornography to one side, as they seem to be a bit different and they become emotional enough to derail a thread. That to one side, I don't think the concerns that justify some kind of defamation law simply scale up to the level of groups in society. Nor do concerns about hate speech necessarily scale down to the individual level.
If someone calls me a rat or a cockroach, perhaps repeatedly, it's insulting and as the social psychology research says it may certainly affect how people feel about me subconsciously. But it probably won't cause people who know me to shun me. It's not the kind of thing that defamation law usually addresses. It would be far more damaging if someone said, sounding credible, that I have Nazi connections or that I'm a pedophile, or that I once got away with committing a serious crime.
But imagine for the moment that we're living in the world of X-Men. Claims that mutants as a group have Nazi connections or practice pedophilia or commit crimes may be credible and damaging. Think of the blood libels against the Jews. But, depending on the circumstances they may just seem like incredible generalisations made by bigots. If I have some nice mutants living next door, maybe I'll be subconsciously influenced (think of the uneasiness that a lot of white people in the US feel around black people because of stereotypes that the latter are potentially violent). All the same, those of us dealing with mutants at work or in our neighborhoods are unlikely to shun them over these accusations, and they certainly won't shun each other. In many circumstances, where accusations are made against a large group, they are prima facie far less plausible and effective than when made against an individual.
These sorts of claims, by themselves, may be socially tolerable. And it's even possible that there may be a publc interest in airing them. Imagine mutant culture has developed in certain ways that are disturbing and merit public discussion (say a charismatic mutant leader has gathered a following who look on Homo sapiens with disdain; if this looks to be true, we'd better discuss it publicly, even at the risk of some commentators getting some of the facts wrong). Discussions of the alleged wrongs of mutant culture may turn out to be needed in a democratic society, and they may be less damaging than relentless campaigns simply depicting mutants as rats or cockroaches - though a successful campaign of hate will contain speech of both kinds.
The moral of the story is that if we're going to have laws that create exceptions to freedom of speech, we can't simply draw analogies, or scale up or down, from one situation to another. In each case, we need to identify the mischief we're trying to address and come up with regulation that addresses it in a narrow, targetted way that does the minimum of damage to the norm of freedom.
In the case of Wilders, I don't know all the accusations against him in precise detail - it's difficult to get a handle on this while relying on English-language sources. But as far as I can tell, all or most of what he is accused of should fall within (what I consider) the proper protections of freedom of speech. At least some of it is proper matter for publc debate. If he's found guilty of anything, I hope it turns out to be something that most reasonable people really would consider beyond the bounds of tolerance. At the moment, I don't see anything like that.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Underway - new issue of Journal of Evolution and Technology
The issue of JET - issue 21(2) - is underway. As usual, articles will be published online as and when they are ready, rather than when the whole issue is full, and the issue will evolve over the next few months during the remainder of 2010. So far we have published a brief editorial and a new article by Stefan Lorenz Sorgner, who defends, in some detail, his view of Nietzsche's philosophy and its significance (and argues that Nietzsche might, in current circumstances, embrace technological interventions to bring about the "overhuman"). Sorgner begins:
I am very grateful for the provocative replies to my article “Nietzsche, the Overhuman, and Transhumanism” (2009), published in the recent “Nietzsche and European Posthumanisms” issue of The Journal of Evolution and Technologyy (January-July 2010). In the following nine sections, I will address the most relevant arguments that have been put forward against some of the points I was raising. As several commentators referred to identical issues, I decided that it would be appropriate not to respond to each of the articles individually, but to focus on the central arguments and to deal with the counterarguments mentioned in the various replies. I will be concerned with each topic in a separate section. The sections will be entitled as follows: 1. Technology and evolution; 2. Overcoming nihilism; 3. Politics and liberalism; 4. Utilitarianism or virtue ethics?; 5. The good life; 6. Creativity and the will to power; 7. Immortality and longevity; 8. Logocentrism; 9. The Third Reich.
Sorgner stresses that Nietzsche is often unfairly associated with the Nazis – despite his clearly-expressed opposition to anti-Semitism – and that he did not favor aristocratic rule in the ordinary sense conveyed by that term. Nietzsche was no egalitarian, but he favored an elite of culture-creators rather than the rule of the hereditary aristocracy.
Later in this issue, we are planning to publish material from Nicholas Agar, Edgar Dahl, and others. I am proposing to contribute a review of The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris, and we have a review in the pipeline, by Jamie Bronstein, of Agar's new book, Humanity's End.
I am very grateful for the provocative replies to my article “Nietzsche, the Overhuman, and Transhumanism” (2009), published in the recent “Nietzsche and European Posthumanisms” issue of The Journal of Evolution and Technologyy (January-July 2010). In the following nine sections, I will address the most relevant arguments that have been put forward against some of the points I was raising. As several commentators referred to identical issues, I decided that it would be appropriate not to respond to each of the articles individually, but to focus on the central arguments and to deal with the counterarguments mentioned in the various replies. I will be concerned with each topic in a separate section. The sections will be entitled as follows: 1. Technology and evolution; 2. Overcoming nihilism; 3. Politics and liberalism; 4. Utilitarianism or virtue ethics?; 5. The good life; 6. Creativity and the will to power; 7. Immortality and longevity; 8. Logocentrism; 9. The Third Reich.
Sorgner stresses that Nietzsche is often unfairly associated with the Nazis – despite his clearly-expressed opposition to anti-Semitism – and that he did not favor aristocratic rule in the ordinary sense conveyed by that term. Nietzsche was no egalitarian, but he favored an elite of culture-creators rather than the rule of the hereditary aristocracy.
Later in this issue, we are planning to publish material from Nicholas Agar, Edgar Dahl, and others. I am proposing to contribute a review of The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris, and we have a review in the pipeline, by Jamie Bronstein, of Agar's new book, Humanity's End.
Currently reading: Philip Kitcher's "Militant Modern Atheism" (Part 5)
I'm now up to the point of explaining why Philip Kitcher wants a softer approach to people who fall into his mythically self-conscious, doctrinally indefinite, and doctrinally entangled categories, while we continue to argue against the supernatural beliefs that are primary for people in his category of religious believers.
Thus, he agrees with the "Militant Modern Atheists" on three points. First, they are correct to assault those kinds of religion that fit the belief model (and to dispute the actual doctrines, such as the existence of transcendent beings). Second, public policy must not be based on supernaturalist beliefs. Third, children should not be indoctrinated in such beliefs without having the opportunity to choose against them (I think Kitcher goes so far as to oppose children being brought up at all in religion that meets the belief model, or at least he disapproves of it; I'm not sure exactly how far he'd take this).
However, he thinks that "all three of the non-secular approaches that accord with the orientation model [i.e. mythic self-consciousness, doctrinal indefiniteness, and doctrinal entanglement] are defensible."
That sounds a bit surprising. It's perhaps not surprising that Kitcher wants us to go easy on the mythically self-conscious. These people, after all, are not much more than cultural Christians, Muslims, or whatever. They may attend a church or the equivalent, and study a holy book or a body of tradition, but they don't have to say that everything in that book or tradition is good or that it's better than what's in some other book or tradition. The thing is, it's their book, tradition, etc., and they find some value in it. They may be interested in good scholarly study of what it originally meant, how it came about, how it can be interpreted and reinterpreted. But they are happy for mythically self-conscious people from other traditions to do likewise with their inherited materials. In fact, mythically self-conscious people from different traditions may be more like each other than either is like a "real" religious believer. In fact, they may be more like secular people than like "real" religious believers - they have no supernatural beliefs, don't propose to indoctrinate children with supernatural beliefs, and don't intend to base public policy on supernatural beliefs. But while secular people may have no problem with mythically self-conscious people, can the same be said about doctrinally-indefinite people and doctrinally-entangled people? Kitcher says:
More problematic, at first sight, are the cases of the doctrinally-entangled and the doctrinally-indefinite. I’ll suggest that doctrinal indefiniteness can be a reasonable expression of epistemic modesty, and that even doctrinal entanglement can be justified when it is the only way of preserving, in the socio-cultural environment available, a reflectively stable orientation.
This is an interesting and important passage. Kitcher doesn't think that any supernatural beliefs have epistemic justification, but he seems to think that it's okay for the doctrinally indefinite not to take a stand. But what about the doctrinally entangled? Surely they do actually believe things that Kitcher argues to be false. Whatever we want to say about that, we can't say they are epistemically justified in doing so. Kitcher seems to think that they can be justified in some other sense.
Here we get into a very important argument, and I should say from the outset that I think Kitcher has a point here. His claim is that under current conditions prevailing in various parts of the world, including parts of the US (the context that he's mainly thinking of), it is unreasonable to expect all people to be able to arrive at a reflectively stable orientation within an entirely secular framework.
Orientations are of primary importance in human lives, and people who cannot arrive at a reflectively stable set of values and aspirations rightly feel incomplete. Thoroughly secular people can have an orientation, as I have already conceded, but it is a fallacy to think that, for any religious person who currently fits the orientation model, that person can attain a cognitively superior orientation by rejecting the beliefs militant modern atheists discern as false.The cognitive gains can simply be outweighed by other forms of psychological and social loss.
Kitcher expresses an awareness that he can be accused of patronising religious people when he says this - as if he's saying they are "insufficiently astute or mature or courageous to come to terms with hard truths." Rather, he says, it is to "appreciate the difficulties contemporary social environments pose for the attainment of satisfying orientations outside of religious life." Those who are relatively privileged may be able to overcome those difficulties, but not everyone is so privileged. In particular, not everyone is going to be able to join a leading scientist such as Dawkins and a leading philosopher such as Dennett in leading a life based on "contemplation of the cosmos as the sciences have revealed it." Even Dawkins and Dennett, Kitcher suggests, gain satisfaction from such things as their passionate involvement in a community that is devoted to spreading enlightenment.
But, says, Kitcher, even in affluent societies with good education available, this is not an option for most people: "the vast majority will never be able to recognize themselves as important participants in any impressive joint enterprise that contributes to knowledge and enlightenment. For large numbers of people, daily struggles to cope with threats to their physical wellbeing leave little opportunity for contemplation."
For me, this rings true - indeed, I've made some related points in the past, as in an essay on Camus that was published in Quadrant a few years ago. In that essay I praised and more-or-less embraced the viewpoint that Camus argues for in "The Myth of Sisyphus", but I also offered a note of caution. I'll quote this at some length (please, though, let's avoid the scholarly argument as to whether Camus was, strictly speaking, an existentialist; perhaps he wasn't but it's not really germane to the argument):
While his language may be melodramatic, Camus successfully evokes the sense of strangeness and bleakness that many people experience when they contemplate an uncaring universe. His response is that we can, nonetheless, live with zest and meaning by affirming our own values. Our individual lives can be meaningful, in that sense, despite the absurdity of our condition. The authentic life, it might be said, is worth living.
I am not convinced, however, that this is so for everyone, since many people do not have the freedom or resources for projects that express their personal values to more than a minimal extent. Despite Camus' assurance that we must think of Sisyphus—even Sisyphus—as happy in his scorn for the gods, it is not surprising if people whose lives are seriously constrained by personal circumstances find Camus' version of existentialism unattractive and seek meaning in some external purpose, rather than in their "inner freedom". One wonders whether Sisyphus himself would find French existentialism all that attractive.
Putting the matter bluntly, the vision of an authentic, zestful life offered by Camus may well be attractive to a successful intellectual involved in uniquely creative work that gives his life a sense of meaning. It may not be enough for people in general, whose lives may offer far less genuine freedom and unique creativity. That, of course, does not entail that Camus was wrong, either about the human condition or about the most appropriate response to it. It should, however, mute any scorn that we might feel, even if we accept his vision, for those who seem to be living inauthentic lives, people who can discern the bleakness of Camus' worldview, when it is explained to them, without finding anything liberating in it.
Of course, the vision offered by Camus cannot be suppressed in some sense, or rejected on merely pragmatic grounds. That would be intolerable and, in any event, impossible. However, if we seriously wish people to find meaning in their inner freedom, rather than in a worldview that finds human intelligibility in the universe, a great deal may need to be done, culturally and politically, to alter the conditions under which people actually live and work.
There's a further problem, too. Here I'll point to the passage from my essay "Science and the Sea of Faith" that I quoted not all that many posts back. Again, at some length:
I've argued that science provides a view of the cosmos that really does tend to contradict traditional religious views. The view from science is superior, both epistemically (it is gradually getting at the truth) and morally (it can provide us with better guidance for living our lives). But there is still a problem: the vast and ancient cosmos revealed by science contains many wonders that are simply not on a human scale, and may defy understanding. The biologically impossible creatures of myth — centaurs, minotaurs, and fire-breathing dragons — make far more intuitive sense than the bestiary of sub-atomic particles, and their actions are more easily grasped than any quantum-level event described by mathematical formulae or translated into paradoxical sentences. Myths and religions, with their gods and monsters, offer views of the world that, although contrary to the hard-won scientific evidence, are intuitive to creatures like us.
Though fire-breathing dragons do not actually exist, they can stand as metaphors for many human-scale fears. Quantum events, by contrast, simply are. These very small events are, of course, exploited in contemporary human technologies, but they are not an obvious symbol for anything we can grasp intuitively. Even science's great populariser, Richard Dawkins, notes that "it may be that nobody really understands quantum theory, possibly because natural selection has shaped our brains to survive in a world of large, slow things, where quantum effects are smothered" (Unweaving the Rainbow, 1998, page 50). Quantum theory is frequently co-opted and vulgarised — "quantum this, quantum that" — in an attempt to give scientific cachet to all sorts of (usually banal) ideas, but the metaphors are generally inapt.
Reflection on this emphasises the harsh truth that this world was not created for us and does not, in any way, care about us or feel as we do. While the world revealed by science is, in any many ways, more wondrous than anything imagined by mystics or mythmakers, it is also far less intuitively understandable or meaningful. Thus, it is one thing to exult in the amazing phenomena revealed by science, but another to argue convincingly that the scientific picture should be enough for ordinary people — non-scientists — who seek to live meaningful lives within human societies, and who are not absorbed, day by day, in examining the very small, the very distant, and the very old. Can the scientific picture be made meaningful to ordinary people who live, work, love, and die in the middle-sized human world?
Given that I have these sorts of worries - and they are well and truly on the public record! - I'm not going to dismiss Kitcher's concerns. I also take the point that, for many people, such institutions as churches, mosques, and synagogues can supply support, including satisfying orientations.
But if that's so, wouldn't we want people for whom out-and-out secularism isn't a psychological option to move, at least, to a position of mythic self-consciousness? Kitcher has a reply to this, but it will have to await part 6 in my series for me to set it out and examine how satisfactory or otherwise it might be. This is the point where it's starting to get most interesting, so please continue to be patient - and I'll look forward to your comments on the ideas discussed so far.
Thus, he agrees with the "Militant Modern Atheists" on three points. First, they are correct to assault those kinds of religion that fit the belief model (and to dispute the actual doctrines, such as the existence of transcendent beings). Second, public policy must not be based on supernaturalist beliefs. Third, children should not be indoctrinated in such beliefs without having the opportunity to choose against them (I think Kitcher goes so far as to oppose children being brought up at all in religion that meets the belief model, or at least he disapproves of it; I'm not sure exactly how far he'd take this).
However, he thinks that "all three of the non-secular approaches that accord with the orientation model [i.e. mythic self-consciousness, doctrinal indefiniteness, and doctrinal entanglement] are defensible."
That sounds a bit surprising. It's perhaps not surprising that Kitcher wants us to go easy on the mythically self-conscious. These people, after all, are not much more than cultural Christians, Muslims, or whatever. They may attend a church or the equivalent, and study a holy book or a body of tradition, but they don't have to say that everything in that book or tradition is good or that it's better than what's in some other book or tradition. The thing is, it's their book, tradition, etc., and they find some value in it. They may be interested in good scholarly study of what it originally meant, how it came about, how it can be interpreted and reinterpreted. But they are happy for mythically self-conscious people from other traditions to do likewise with their inherited materials. In fact, mythically self-conscious people from different traditions may be more like each other than either is like a "real" religious believer. In fact, they may be more like secular people than like "real" religious believers - they have no supernatural beliefs, don't propose to indoctrinate children with supernatural beliefs, and don't intend to base public policy on supernatural beliefs. But while secular people may have no problem with mythically self-conscious people, can the same be said about doctrinally-indefinite people and doctrinally-entangled people? Kitcher says:
More problematic, at first sight, are the cases of the doctrinally-entangled and the doctrinally-indefinite. I’ll suggest that doctrinal indefiniteness can be a reasonable expression of epistemic modesty, and that even doctrinal entanglement can be justified when it is the only way of preserving, in the socio-cultural environment available, a reflectively stable orientation.
This is an interesting and important passage. Kitcher doesn't think that any supernatural beliefs have epistemic justification, but he seems to think that it's okay for the doctrinally indefinite not to take a stand. But what about the doctrinally entangled? Surely they do actually believe things that Kitcher argues to be false. Whatever we want to say about that, we can't say they are epistemically justified in doing so. Kitcher seems to think that they can be justified in some other sense.
Here we get into a very important argument, and I should say from the outset that I think Kitcher has a point here. His claim is that under current conditions prevailing in various parts of the world, including parts of the US (the context that he's mainly thinking of), it is unreasonable to expect all people to be able to arrive at a reflectively stable orientation within an entirely secular framework.
Orientations are of primary importance in human lives, and people who cannot arrive at a reflectively stable set of values and aspirations rightly feel incomplete. Thoroughly secular people can have an orientation, as I have already conceded, but it is a fallacy to think that, for any religious person who currently fits the orientation model, that person can attain a cognitively superior orientation by rejecting the beliefs militant modern atheists discern as false.The cognitive gains can simply be outweighed by other forms of psychological and social loss.
Kitcher expresses an awareness that he can be accused of patronising religious people when he says this - as if he's saying they are "insufficiently astute or mature or courageous to come to terms with hard truths." Rather, he says, it is to "appreciate the difficulties contemporary social environments pose for the attainment of satisfying orientations outside of religious life." Those who are relatively privileged may be able to overcome those difficulties, but not everyone is so privileged. In particular, not everyone is going to be able to join a leading scientist such as Dawkins and a leading philosopher such as Dennett in leading a life based on "contemplation of the cosmos as the sciences have revealed it." Even Dawkins and Dennett, Kitcher suggests, gain satisfaction from such things as their passionate involvement in a community that is devoted to spreading enlightenment.
But, says, Kitcher, even in affluent societies with good education available, this is not an option for most people: "the vast majority will never be able to recognize themselves as important participants in any impressive joint enterprise that contributes to knowledge and enlightenment. For large numbers of people, daily struggles to cope with threats to their physical wellbeing leave little opportunity for contemplation."
For me, this rings true - indeed, I've made some related points in the past, as in an essay on Camus that was published in Quadrant a few years ago. In that essay I praised and more-or-less embraced the viewpoint that Camus argues for in "The Myth of Sisyphus", but I also offered a note of caution. I'll quote this at some length (please, though, let's avoid the scholarly argument as to whether Camus was, strictly speaking, an existentialist; perhaps he wasn't but it's not really germane to the argument):
While his language may be melodramatic, Camus successfully evokes the sense of strangeness and bleakness that many people experience when they contemplate an uncaring universe. His response is that we can, nonetheless, live with zest and meaning by affirming our own values. Our individual lives can be meaningful, in that sense, despite the absurdity of our condition. The authentic life, it might be said, is worth living.
I am not convinced, however, that this is so for everyone, since many people do not have the freedom or resources for projects that express their personal values to more than a minimal extent. Despite Camus' assurance that we must think of Sisyphus—even Sisyphus—as happy in his scorn for the gods, it is not surprising if people whose lives are seriously constrained by personal circumstances find Camus' version of existentialism unattractive and seek meaning in some external purpose, rather than in their "inner freedom". One wonders whether Sisyphus himself would find French existentialism all that attractive.
Putting the matter bluntly, the vision of an authentic, zestful life offered by Camus may well be attractive to a successful intellectual involved in uniquely creative work that gives his life a sense of meaning. It may not be enough for people in general, whose lives may offer far less genuine freedom and unique creativity. That, of course, does not entail that Camus was wrong, either about the human condition or about the most appropriate response to it. It should, however, mute any scorn that we might feel, even if we accept his vision, for those who seem to be living inauthentic lives, people who can discern the bleakness of Camus' worldview, when it is explained to them, without finding anything liberating in it.
Of course, the vision offered by Camus cannot be suppressed in some sense, or rejected on merely pragmatic grounds. That would be intolerable and, in any event, impossible. However, if we seriously wish people to find meaning in their inner freedom, rather than in a worldview that finds human intelligibility in the universe, a great deal may need to be done, culturally and politically, to alter the conditions under which people actually live and work.
There's a further problem, too. Here I'll point to the passage from my essay "Science and the Sea of Faith" that I quoted not all that many posts back. Again, at some length:
I've argued that science provides a view of the cosmos that really does tend to contradict traditional religious views. The view from science is superior, both epistemically (it is gradually getting at the truth) and morally (it can provide us with better guidance for living our lives). But there is still a problem: the vast and ancient cosmos revealed by science contains many wonders that are simply not on a human scale, and may defy understanding. The biologically impossible creatures of myth — centaurs, minotaurs, and fire-breathing dragons — make far more intuitive sense than the bestiary of sub-atomic particles, and their actions are more easily grasped than any quantum-level event described by mathematical formulae or translated into paradoxical sentences. Myths and religions, with their gods and monsters, offer views of the world that, although contrary to the hard-won scientific evidence, are intuitive to creatures like us.
Though fire-breathing dragons do not actually exist, they can stand as metaphors for many human-scale fears. Quantum events, by contrast, simply are. These very small events are, of course, exploited in contemporary human technologies, but they are not an obvious symbol for anything we can grasp intuitively. Even science's great populariser, Richard Dawkins, notes that "it may be that nobody really understands quantum theory, possibly because natural selection has shaped our brains to survive in a world of large, slow things, where quantum effects are smothered" (Unweaving the Rainbow, 1998, page 50). Quantum theory is frequently co-opted and vulgarised — "quantum this, quantum that" — in an attempt to give scientific cachet to all sorts of (usually banal) ideas, but the metaphors are generally inapt.
Reflection on this emphasises the harsh truth that this world was not created for us and does not, in any way, care about us or feel as we do. While the world revealed by science is, in any many ways, more wondrous than anything imagined by mystics or mythmakers, it is also far less intuitively understandable or meaningful. Thus, it is one thing to exult in the amazing phenomena revealed by science, but another to argue convincingly that the scientific picture should be enough for ordinary people — non-scientists — who seek to live meaningful lives within human societies, and who are not absorbed, day by day, in examining the very small, the very distant, and the very old. Can the scientific picture be made meaningful to ordinary people who live, work, love, and die in the middle-sized human world?
Given that I have these sorts of worries - and they are well and truly on the public record! - I'm not going to dismiss Kitcher's concerns. I also take the point that, for many people, such institutions as churches, mosques, and synagogues can supply support, including satisfying orientations.
But if that's so, wouldn't we want people for whom out-and-out secularism isn't a psychological option to move, at least, to a position of mythic self-consciousness? Kitcher has a reply to this, but it will have to await part 6 in my series for me to set it out and examine how satisfactory or otherwise it might be. This is the point where it's starting to get most interesting, so please continue to be patient - and I'll look forward to your comments on the ideas discussed so far.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
A truly useless article by Greg Sheridan
The only thing to be said in Greg Sheridan's favour in respect of this misguided article is that its nonsensical headline was probably chosen by a sub-editor, rather than by him. All the same, whoever chose it ... what nonsense! No, critiques of Christianity (or any other religion) will not undermine our society. On the contrary, they may well make it better and stronger.
Here's a sample of Sheridan's muddled thinking:
A liberalism that softens all differences, that abolishes almost all rules, that says one thing is as good as another, may be exhilarating at first in the sense of licence it brings, but ultimately it is enervating. After all, Jesus Christ might have been just a man, in which case Dawkins, Hitchens et al are right. He might be just a prophet leading up to Mohammed, the last prophet, in which case Islam is right. Or he might be the son of God made man to redeem humanity's sins, in which case the Catholic Church is right.
One thing is certain: he couldn't be all three, and in the end you must make a choice. A religious liberalism that tries to avoid these choices leads nowhere.
But many theological liberals get by just fine by being doctrinally indefinite, while mainly oriented to goals and values (such things as equality, solidarity, and freedom). I'm sure that Philip Kitcher is right about that, and it's Sheridan who could do with a better theological and sociological understanding. But more importantly, the state most certainly can and should decline to make up its mind as to whether Jesus was "just a man", a prophet, or the Son of God. That's what political liberalism is really about, and it's the kind of liberalism we most definitely ask for from the churches- i.e. that they don't expect the state to have a view on such theological claims. Even quite theologically conservative religious people can sometimes embrace political liberalism. Generally, however, the Catholic Church has been unwilling to respond positively. It still proclaims that it is the role of the state to impose the moral law (as determined by the Vatican) on citizens.
That's not to say that no intelligent and sensitive critiques of the "New Atheists" can ever be made: I'm still working on my series of posts about the interesting critique by Philip Kitcher, trying to work out how much of it we should accept and where it might take us if we think about it seriously and carefully. But Sheridan's absurd concerns - his worries that orthodox forms of Christianity are too marginalised in Australia - are not presented with anything like Kitcher's sophistication.
Sheridan's article is a nice example of what secular people are up against, though, so it may not be totally useless. Here's a very powerful journalist wanting even more social and political influence for the Vatican, which, as he boasts at length, is already an enormously powerful institution. We should be thinking of ways to reduce the Vatican's power, not encourage and increase it.
Here's a sample of Sheridan's muddled thinking:
A liberalism that softens all differences, that abolishes almost all rules, that says one thing is as good as another, may be exhilarating at first in the sense of licence it brings, but ultimately it is enervating. After all, Jesus Christ might have been just a man, in which case Dawkins, Hitchens et al are right. He might be just a prophet leading up to Mohammed, the last prophet, in which case Islam is right. Or he might be the son of God made man to redeem humanity's sins, in which case the Catholic Church is right.
One thing is certain: he couldn't be all three, and in the end you must make a choice. A religious liberalism that tries to avoid these choices leads nowhere.
But many theological liberals get by just fine by being doctrinally indefinite, while mainly oriented to goals and values (such things as equality, solidarity, and freedom). I'm sure that Philip Kitcher is right about that, and it's Sheridan who could do with a better theological and sociological understanding. But more importantly, the state most certainly can and should decline to make up its mind as to whether Jesus was "just a man", a prophet, or the Son of God. That's what political liberalism is really about, and it's the kind of liberalism we most definitely ask for from the churches- i.e. that they don't expect the state to have a view on such theological claims. Even quite theologically conservative religious people can sometimes embrace political liberalism. Generally, however, the Catholic Church has been unwilling to respond positively. It still proclaims that it is the role of the state to impose the moral law (as determined by the Vatican) on citizens.
That's not to say that no intelligent and sensitive critiques of the "New Atheists" can ever be made: I'm still working on my series of posts about the interesting critique by Philip Kitcher, trying to work out how much of it we should accept and where it might take us if we think about it seriously and carefully. But Sheridan's absurd concerns - his worries that orthodox forms of Christianity are too marginalised in Australia - are not presented with anything like Kitcher's sophistication.
Sheridan's article is a nice example of what secular people are up against, though, so it may not be totally useless. Here's a very powerful journalist wanting even more social and political influence for the Vatican, which, as he boasts at length, is already an enormously powerful institution. We should be thinking of ways to reduce the Vatican's power, not encourage and increase it.
Queensland couple acquitted in abortion trial
A jury in far north Queensland has acquitted Tegan Leach, 21, and Sergie Brennan, 22, of crimes related to abortion. Leach was tried for "procuring her own miscarriage" and Brennan for supplying drugs to procure an abortion. Apparently they used drugs including the "morning after pill", RU486 to terminate Ms Leach's pregnancy.
The acquittal is very welcome, though of course this young couple was put through the harsh processes of the criminal justice system before the outcome was reached. However, the Queensland government and opposition have stated that they have no intention of amending the law. As a result, others can be prosecuted in similar circumstances ... even if juries refuse to convict. This is an unsatisfactory situation, and we should all do what we can to support the campaign to repeal current laws that criminalise abortion in Queensland.
Meanwhile, for what it's worth, congratulations to Tegan Leach and Sergie Brennan for getting through this process that they should never have had to face in the first place.
The acquittal is very welcome, though of course this young couple was put through the harsh processes of the criminal justice system before the outcome was reached. However, the Queensland government and opposition have stated that they have no intention of amending the law. As a result, others can be prosecuted in similar circumstances ... even if juries refuse to convict. This is an unsatisfactory situation, and we should all do what we can to support the campaign to repeal current laws that criminalise abortion in Queensland.
Meanwhile, for what it's worth, congratulations to Tegan Leach and Sergie Brennan for getting through this process that they should never have had to face in the first place.
Geert Wilders verdict on 4 November
If you've been concerned about the prosecution of Geert Wilders in the Netherlands for "inciting hatred", then you might make a note that the verdict will be announced on 4 November 2010.
I don't support Wilders' views about Islam or immigration or the Koran (I certainly don't think that there is any basis for Western governments to be banning the Muslim holy book). However, I do defend his freedom of speech and particularly his freedom of speech on matters of social and political concern. In particular, I see nothing in the movie he made, Fitna, that merits either its prohibition or the prosecution of the movie-makers. The comparison of the Koran to Mein Kampf is over the top, but it was legitimate of him to make the point that the holy book can be, and frequently has been, read as inciting violence. There should be protection of people who want to make such points in a robust way.
For myself, I don't think that Mein Kampf or the Koran should be banned anywhere. There seems to be some confusion - or perhaps it's just in my mind - as to whether Wilders really wants the Koran banned or whether he was trying to make some other point in a colourful way. Whatever the truth may be, people are entitled to say illiberal things while having their freedom to do protected by a liberal society. Even hypocrisy does not disentitle you to freedom of speech.
For the sake of Dutch society and Western societies in general, I hope that Wilders is acquitted of all charges. About the last thing we need at the moment is the precedent of what is normally considered one of the most liberal countries in the world severely curtailing free speech, with criminal penalties attached.
I don't support Wilders' views about Islam or immigration or the Koran (I certainly don't think that there is any basis for Western governments to be banning the Muslim holy book). However, I do defend his freedom of speech and particularly his freedom of speech on matters of social and political concern. In particular, I see nothing in the movie he made, Fitna, that merits either its prohibition or the prosecution of the movie-makers. The comparison of the Koran to Mein Kampf is over the top, but it was legitimate of him to make the point that the holy book can be, and frequently has been, read as inciting violence. There should be protection of people who want to make such points in a robust way.
For myself, I don't think that Mein Kampf or the Koran should be banned anywhere. There seems to be some confusion - or perhaps it's just in my mind - as to whether Wilders really wants the Koran banned or whether he was trying to make some other point in a colourful way. Whatever the truth may be, people are entitled to say illiberal things while having their freedom to do protected by a liberal society. Even hypocrisy does not disentitle you to freedom of speech.
For the sake of Dutch society and Western societies in general, I hope that Wilders is acquitted of all charges. About the last thing we need at the moment is the precedent of what is normally considered one of the most liberal countries in the world severely curtailing free speech, with criminal penalties attached.
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