by Hanno
Exhausted from a trip, so I got nothing today. Will try to have something tomorrow.
Why is it that everyone at funerals and in churches all refer to the people who have died as if everyone knows they are in Heaven, enjoying all of its glories?
Monday, November 3, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
V for Violence
by Hanno
I was disturbed by several features of "V for Vendetta." I found the movie to glorify not just violence, but torture. And then it made revolution to be a non-violent wonderful thing (you can't have a Hollywood movie without a happy ending, can you?). But one of the main arguments against revolution is that they are indeed bloody, uncertain, violent and ugly. The romaticization of revolution has a huge effect: it allows for easy justifications. Hence we can look at a functioning society with less freedom we would like (hey, that sounds like ours) and raise start dropping the "R" word, as if its an easy solution to whatever problem. But it isnt. Revolutions are dirty, messy affairs where lots and lots of innocent people get killed, and lots of guilty ones, too. Hobbes knew this well, which is why he was against the whole idea. No, if a movie is to tackle the problem of fascism and revolution, lets have a real look at it, not the Hollywood version. This of course is compounded by celbrating the violence of V himself. And why? Would the violence have been justified if V had not been tortured? If the state had not created the crisis of the bioterrorist attacks? If we just had the all powerful fascist state, but people got there without coersion, would that justify V's violence? (ah, the first interesting question!)
But that was not what I wanted to talk about. Instead, it was the torture of Evey. According to the film, her torture makes her free. Listen to that as I repeat it: through torture, she becomes free. And she becomes free because she doesn't fear death anymore. She is unafraid. OK, let me make this clear: Torture does NOT make people unafraid. It breaks them, and makes them always afraid. Torture does not make people free. It robs them of their humanity. It may make you realize there are worse things than dieing, but that it not necessarily a good thing, and leads to suicide. People at Auschwitz were not free because they realized they would rather throw themselves onto the electric fence than live another day. In short, violence is not a way to overcome existential angst.
I was disturbed by several features of "V for Vendetta." I found the movie to glorify not just violence, but torture. And then it made revolution to be a non-violent wonderful thing (you can't have a Hollywood movie without a happy ending, can you?). But one of the main arguments against revolution is that they are indeed bloody, uncertain, violent and ugly. The romaticization of revolution has a huge effect: it allows for easy justifications. Hence we can look at a functioning society with less freedom we would like (hey, that sounds like ours) and raise start dropping the "R" word, as if its an easy solution to whatever problem. But it isnt. Revolutions are dirty, messy affairs where lots and lots of innocent people get killed, and lots of guilty ones, too. Hobbes knew this well, which is why he was against the whole idea. No, if a movie is to tackle the problem of fascism and revolution, lets have a real look at it, not the Hollywood version. This of course is compounded by celbrating the violence of V himself. And why? Would the violence have been justified if V had not been tortured? If the state had not created the crisis of the bioterrorist attacks? If we just had the all powerful fascist state, but people got there without coersion, would that justify V's violence? (ah, the first interesting question!)
But that was not what I wanted to talk about. Instead, it was the torture of Evey. According to the film, her torture makes her free. Listen to that as I repeat it: through torture, she becomes free. And she becomes free because she doesn't fear death anymore. She is unafraid. OK, let me make this clear: Torture does NOT make people unafraid. It breaks them, and makes them always afraid. Torture does not make people free. It robs them of their humanity. It may make you realize there are worse things than dieing, but that it not necessarily a good thing, and leads to suicide. People at Auschwitz were not free because they realized they would rather throw themselves onto the electric fence than live another day. In short, violence is not a way to overcome existential angst.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Possible Worlds II
We were talking about possible worlds being relative to other possible worlds, not relevant, and this is a technical term.
First, for most philosophers, all possible worlds are relative to all possible worlds. This has a consequence that it is governed by a formal logical system called S-5. If not all worlds are possible to all possible worlds, then weaker systems of logic govern our inferences. This is precisely what Kripke showed in his published work in the 1950's, when he was 18(!).
It follows in S-5 that anything which is possibly necessary is actually necessary. this has been used to prove God's existence in a version of the Ontological argument. God, if he exists, has the property of being a necessary being. It is possible that there is a God. Therefore, it is possible that a necessary being exists. By S-5, God is actually necessary, and and since anything which is necessary is true, God exists in this world, too.
Other philosophers deny that all possible worlds are possible relative to all possible worlds. Aristotle might not have existed. So there is a world at which there is no Aristotle. At that world, is it possible that Aristotle's son existed? What does it mean to say that some non-existent thing might have existed? In response to these kinds of questions, they deny the universal connection between possible worlds. Worlds in which Aristotle exists are not possible from worlds in which Aristotle does not exist, though the reverse does not hold. If that is right, the logic of modality is not S-5, but something weaker (S-4, for those who are counting) and it no longer follows that just because something is possible that it is necessarily possible, nor does it follow that something that is possibly necessary is actually necessary.
I am looking at my car. It is possible for it to start. But is it necessarily possible for it to start? On one way of looking at things, no, because it is possible for the engine block to be totally ruined. Spelling that out in possible worlds means some possible worlds are not possible from all possible worlds. It is possible that Aristotle exists. But is it necessarily possible? What if human beings never develop? What if the world blew up before humans ever appear on the world stage? Then there would still be a possible world in which Aristotle exists ("Aristotle might have existed" is true), but that world would not be relatively possible from worlds where the world blows up before humans arrive on the scene. Hence we can say Aristotle could not exist if the world blew up before humans arrive on the scene, even though he might exist in other circumstances.
Hope that helps.
I was going to post more on the metaphysics of modality, but ce side tracked me. Blame him. Will try to do that Monday.
First, for most philosophers, all possible worlds are relative to all possible worlds. This has a consequence that it is governed by a formal logical system called S-5. If not all worlds are possible to all possible worlds, then weaker systems of logic govern our inferences. This is precisely what Kripke showed in his published work in the 1950's, when he was 18(!).
It follows in S-5 that anything which is possibly necessary is actually necessary. this has been used to prove God's existence in a version of the Ontological argument. God, if he exists, has the property of being a necessary being. It is possible that there is a God. Therefore, it is possible that a necessary being exists. By S-5, God is actually necessary, and and since anything which is necessary is true, God exists in this world, too.
Other philosophers deny that all possible worlds are possible relative to all possible worlds. Aristotle might not have existed. So there is a world at which there is no Aristotle. At that world, is it possible that Aristotle's son existed? What does it mean to say that some non-existent thing might have existed? In response to these kinds of questions, they deny the universal connection between possible worlds. Worlds in which Aristotle exists are not possible from worlds in which Aristotle does not exist, though the reverse does not hold. If that is right, the logic of modality is not S-5, but something weaker (S-4, for those who are counting) and it no longer follows that just because something is possible that it is necessarily possible, nor does it follow that something that is possibly necessary is actually necessary.
I am looking at my car. It is possible for it to start. But is it necessarily possible for it to start? On one way of looking at things, no, because it is possible for the engine block to be totally ruined. Spelling that out in possible worlds means some possible worlds are not possible from all possible worlds. It is possible that Aristotle exists. But is it necessarily possible? What if human beings never develop? What if the world blew up before humans ever appear on the world stage? Then there would still be a possible world in which Aristotle exists ("Aristotle might have existed" is true), but that world would not be relatively possible from worlds where the world blows up before humans arrive on the scene. Hence we can say Aristotle could not exist if the world blew up before humans arrive on the scene, even though he might exist in other circumstances.
Hope that helps.
I was going to post more on the metaphysics of modality, but ce side tracked me. Blame him. Will try to do that Monday.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Political Philosophy and Human Nature in V for Vendetta
People should not fear their governments. Governments should fear their people.
"Political Philosophy and Human Nature in V for Vendetta"
A presentation by Matthew A. Butkus, PhD
Friday, October 24, 2008
2:00 - 5:00 PM
Hardtner 128
Presented by the McNeese State University Philosophy Club
"Political Philosophy and Human Nature in V for Vendetta"
A presentation by Matthew A. Butkus, PhD
Friday, October 24, 2008
2:00 - 5:00 PM
Hardtner 128
Presented by the McNeese State University Philosophy Club
Monday, October 20, 2008
Possible Worlds
by Hanno
On the way out of last weeks meeting, Robert asked me about possible worlds. Todd, Lord Matt and I were using the notion of a possible world in the previous weeks discussion, but we did not say much about them. So here goes:
A possible world is a complete way the world might have been. Suppose you could have been a rock star. Then there is a possible world at which you are in fact a rock star. That part is easy, and gives us a way to think about what might have been. But what are possible worlds?
The first philosopher to use possible worlds was Leibniz, long ago. He used them in part to answer the problem of evil: This is "the best of all possible worlds" and hence a good God would naturally chose this one to being into existence. For Leibniz, possible worlds were ideas in the mind of God. Imagine Him going through each of the ways the world might have been. When he finally reaches the best of all of them, he chooses to make that one real. Philosophers call that "actualizing" or "instantiating" that world. So this is the only real world, but the others exist as ideas in the mind of God. When you say "I could have been a rock star" you are saying that there is an idea in the mind of God, and in that idea, you are a rock star. Unfortunately, that world was not the best of all possible worlds, and hence you are actually stuck with only dreams.
Possible worlds lay dormant as a philosophical tool until revived by Saul Kripke in the 1950's and 60's. In order to deal with a difficult problem in Modal Logic (defining validity, and hence providing a semantics, for those curious), he reintroduced the notion of a possible world. Pressed later on their metaphysical stauts, Kripke said that a possible world simply was a counterfactual situation. A counterfactual is a conditional (if-then claim) where the antecedent is false. Example: If Germany had won the war, blah blah blah. That stipulates a possible world where Germany did win the war. On his view, these do not exist as ideas in the mind of God, or any where else. However, if possible worlds do not exist, in what way do they make modal claims true?
Enter David Lewis. Lewis (and I'm not making this up) was reading a work of science fiction in which someone creates a new invention which allows people to travel to other possible worlds. Inspired by this, Lewis defends what he calls "Modal Realism," the view that other possible worlds exist exactly like this one, just in a different space-time. Real people, real situations. What happens in those other worlds makes our claim about what might have been true. Our world is the actual world for us, but our world is a possible world for them, and their world is their actual world. For anything that you think might have been, there is a world, which exists just like this one, where that actually happened.
Actualism is the view that the only thing that exists is the actual world, and actualists reject Lewis's views. More next week, if there is any interest.
On the way out of last weeks meeting, Robert asked me about possible worlds. Todd, Lord Matt and I were using the notion of a possible world in the previous weeks discussion, but we did not say much about them. So here goes:
A possible world is a complete way the world might have been. Suppose you could have been a rock star. Then there is a possible world at which you are in fact a rock star. That part is easy, and gives us a way to think about what might have been. But what are possible worlds?
The first philosopher to use possible worlds was Leibniz, long ago. He used them in part to answer the problem of evil: This is "the best of all possible worlds" and hence a good God would naturally chose this one to being into existence. For Leibniz, possible worlds were ideas in the mind of God. Imagine Him going through each of the ways the world might have been. When he finally reaches the best of all of them, he chooses to make that one real. Philosophers call that "actualizing" or "instantiating" that world. So this is the only real world, but the others exist as ideas in the mind of God. When you say "I could have been a rock star" you are saying that there is an idea in the mind of God, and in that idea, you are a rock star. Unfortunately, that world was not the best of all possible worlds, and hence you are actually stuck with only dreams.
Possible worlds lay dormant as a philosophical tool until revived by Saul Kripke in the 1950's and 60's. In order to deal with a difficult problem in Modal Logic (defining validity, and hence providing a semantics, for those curious), he reintroduced the notion of a possible world. Pressed later on their metaphysical stauts, Kripke said that a possible world simply was a counterfactual situation. A counterfactual is a conditional (if-then claim) where the antecedent is false. Example: If Germany had won the war, blah blah blah. That stipulates a possible world where Germany did win the war. On his view, these do not exist as ideas in the mind of God, or any where else. However, if possible worlds do not exist, in what way do they make modal claims true?
Enter David Lewis. Lewis (and I'm not making this up) was reading a work of science fiction in which someone creates a new invention which allows people to travel to other possible worlds. Inspired by this, Lewis defends what he calls "Modal Realism," the view that other possible worlds exist exactly like this one, just in a different space-time. Real people, real situations. What happens in those other worlds makes our claim about what might have been true. Our world is the actual world for us, but our world is a possible world for them, and their world is their actual world. For anything that you think might have been, there is a world, which exists just like this one, where that actually happened.
Actualism is the view that the only thing that exists is the actual world, and actualists reject Lewis's views. More next week, if there is any interest.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
JONATHAN MILLER'S BRIEF HISTORY OF DISBELIEF
Jerome uncovered this gem. In this series Jonathan Miller explores the origins of atheism and and his own lack of belief.
Shadows of Doubt
Jonathan Miller visits the absent Twin Towers to consider the religious implications of 9/11 and meets Arthur Miller and the philosopher Colin McGinn. He searches for evidence of the first 'unbelievers' in Ancient Greece and examines some of the modern theories around why people have always tended to believe in mythology and magic.
Noughts and Crosses
With the domination of Christianity from 500 AD, Jonathan Miller wonders how disbelief began to re-emerge in the 15th and 16th centuries. He discovers that division within the Church played a more powerful role than the scientific discoveries of the period. He also visits Paris, the home of the 18th century atheist, Baron D'Holbach, and shows how politically dangerous it was to undermine the religious faith of the masses.
The Final Hour
The history of disbelief continues with the ideas of self-taught philosopher Thomas Paine, the revolutionary studies of geology and the evolutionary theories of Darwin. Jonathan Miller looks at the Freudian view that religion is a 'thought disorder'. He also examines his motivation behind making the series touching on the issues of death and the religious fanaticism of the 21st century.
Shadows of Doubt
Jonathan Miller visits the absent Twin Towers to consider the religious implications of 9/11 and meets Arthur Miller and the philosopher Colin McGinn. He searches for evidence of the first 'unbelievers' in Ancient Greece and examines some of the modern theories around why people have always tended to believe in mythology and magic.
Noughts and Crosses
With the domination of Christianity from 500 AD, Jonathan Miller wonders how disbelief began to re-emerge in the 15th and 16th centuries. He discovers that division within the Church played a more powerful role than the scientific discoveries of the period. He also visits Paris, the home of the 18th century atheist, Baron D'Holbach, and shows how politically dangerous it was to undermine the religious faith of the masses.
The Final Hour
The history of disbelief continues with the ideas of self-taught philosopher Thomas Paine, the revolutionary studies of geology and the evolutionary theories of Darwin. Jonathan Miller looks at the Freudian view that religion is a 'thought disorder'. He also examines his motivation behind making the series touching on the issues of death and the religious fanaticism of the 21st century.
On Humility
By Hanno
I did promise to have a new post each Monday. I failed. Sue me.
Last week, we engaged had a discussion about humility. What is humility? Is it a virtue or a vice? Are people being humble when they give glory to God?
Normally, you cannot do philosophy by dictionary. A dictionary definition tells us how we use words, and there is no truth that is uncovered by simply showing how we use a word. moreover, people may use a word in one way, but the philosophical impact of the concept may lie in a different place. Be all that as it may, I find it useful in the present circumstance to think about the dictionary definition. To be humble is to have a low estimate of one's importance. The other connections we were making to humility seem to follow loosely from this definition.
Hence giving glory to God is an act of humility in a way: you are saying I did nothing, it was all God's doing, which is why He gets the glory, not me. But 1) most people who say this are basking in the glory while saying it. Then it becomes at best an empty gesture, even if in some sense heartfelt. 2) Conceiving of yourself as the instrument of God's will is not humility. True, he could have used someone else as his instrument. But that only marginally lowers the importance of the actor. In fact, conceiving of yourself as the instrument of God raises your importance in another way: you are like a prophet! God choose you! Your god given talents make you special, and special in a divine way, as it is God's power that you have and use. Being God's tool makes you almost divine. Giving God the glory is false humility.
Nietzsche criticizes humility for two reasons. The first is that we value humility not because it is good to be humble, but because lack of humility makes unimportant people feel bad about themselves, and creates rage and depression amongst them. Even if true, saying "I am smarter, stronger, faster, prettier than you" makes other people feel bad, rocks the boat, offends the herd. Valuing "I am worthless, unimportant" is the value scheme of the slave.
The second criticism he makes is far deeper: Valuing claims like "I am worthless" strips life itself of value. To live, to value life, you must think positively of this life. The humble monk, sitting in his hut, does not live life, he denies it, denies life has value. The monk does this for a variety of reasons, but the main Christian one is to see this life as a punishment for our sins. If so, reveling in life is reveling in our punishment, turning it from punishment to reward. Humility is essential to thinking of this life as a punishment. Humility is thus life-denying.
So is that right? And even if it is right, are there true virtues to humility? If so, what?
I did promise to have a new post each Monday. I failed. Sue me.
Last week, we engaged had a discussion about humility. What is humility? Is it a virtue or a vice? Are people being humble when they give glory to God?
Normally, you cannot do philosophy by dictionary. A dictionary definition tells us how we use words, and there is no truth that is uncovered by simply showing how we use a word. moreover, people may use a word in one way, but the philosophical impact of the concept may lie in a different place. Be all that as it may, I find it useful in the present circumstance to think about the dictionary definition. To be humble is to have a low estimate of one's importance. The other connections we were making to humility seem to follow loosely from this definition.
Hence giving glory to God is an act of humility in a way: you are saying I did nothing, it was all God's doing, which is why He gets the glory, not me. But 1) most people who say this are basking in the glory while saying it. Then it becomes at best an empty gesture, even if in some sense heartfelt. 2) Conceiving of yourself as the instrument of God's will is not humility. True, he could have used someone else as his instrument. But that only marginally lowers the importance of the actor. In fact, conceiving of yourself as the instrument of God raises your importance in another way: you are like a prophet! God choose you! Your god given talents make you special, and special in a divine way, as it is God's power that you have and use. Being God's tool makes you almost divine. Giving God the glory is false humility.
Nietzsche criticizes humility for two reasons. The first is that we value humility not because it is good to be humble, but because lack of humility makes unimportant people feel bad about themselves, and creates rage and depression amongst them. Even if true, saying "I am smarter, stronger, faster, prettier than you" makes other people feel bad, rocks the boat, offends the herd. Valuing "I am worthless, unimportant" is the value scheme of the slave.
The second criticism he makes is far deeper: Valuing claims like "I am worthless" strips life itself of value. To live, to value life, you must think positively of this life. The humble monk, sitting in his hut, does not live life, he denies it, denies life has value. The monk does this for a variety of reasons, but the main Christian one is to see this life as a punishment for our sins. If so, reveling in life is reveling in our punishment, turning it from punishment to reward. Humility is essential to thinking of this life as a punishment. Humility is thus life-denying.
So is that right? And even if it is right, are there true virtues to humility? If so, what?
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Function and Sex
By Hanno
As I'm grading several papers on Aristotle's function argument, it occurs to me that we take the basics of his argument very seriously in a variety of contexts, and always assume the basic Greek worldview. It was basic to the Greek way of thinking that every thing, every species, every action has a unique function. Aristotle and others then use knowledge of that unique function to determine what a good instance of that thing may be. Many people still use the basics of that view when it comes to sex, and this has profound implications for the ethics of sex. But the assumption seems flat out wrong, and hence the ethics based on the function argument seems poor at best.
Aristotle argued that the word good is always contextual, getting its meaning from the noun it modified, and the noun gets its meaning by its particular function. So, a pianist is someone that plays the piano, and a good pianist is one that plays the piano well. When you find the unique function of an object, you can then understand what a "good" object maybe, be it a piano player, or a car.
He argued that the function of man is not mere nutrition and growth, because these attributes are shared with plants, and so are not man's unique function. He argued that sense perception and movement are not man's function, because these are shared with animals. Man's unique function is the use of reason, hence the function of man is to reason, and a good man reason's well, both in practical life as well as in the contemplative life.
The immediate effect of the argument is to place an emphasis on reason, and on the unique characteristics of man, separating him from being an animal. Hence those features of human existence that we share with animals are downgraded, and acting like animals is a bad thing. And if its a bad thing, then anything which takes us away from our rational, human nature is degrading and very bad.
If this argument is not right, then it is very easy to see why some philosophers (like Kant) holds that sex is inherently degrading, reducing us to animals, and hence morally reprehensible. Sex might be necessary to keep the species going, but not good in itself, not to be valued as anything except useful for procreation. (Of course it follows that if sex is valuable for its unique function, and the only function it has that is truly unique is procreation, that good sex is reproductive sex. You may think you have had good sex before, but if it did not produce offspring, you are wrong. And you might have thought that sex that cause a child was not all that, but again, you would be wrong. The best sex, according to this argument, is one where a child is conceived.)
We might grant that procreation is the only unique function sex has, but it is obvious sex has many other functions that are not unique. You might think, for example, that it brings couples closer. Everyone must grant other actions can do that as well, so it is not the unique function, but few can deny that it can also have that effect as well.
Here, then, is the question: Why would the obvious uniqueness of one function make the others irrelevant, or even elevate the unique function? Why is value tied to the unique function? Why cannot we attach meaning and hence value to any purpose we give to any act or person? Then, no longer accepting to split between animal and human, as we no longer accept the function argument, we need no longer look at our animalistic nature with horror and dread. Deny that the only function which counts is the unique function, and off we go with a very different conception of value and ethics. So what justifies the assumption either that function is unique or that only the unique function is the one that counts?
As I'm grading several papers on Aristotle's function argument, it occurs to me that we take the basics of his argument very seriously in a variety of contexts, and always assume the basic Greek worldview. It was basic to the Greek way of thinking that every thing, every species, every action has a unique function. Aristotle and others then use knowledge of that unique function to determine what a good instance of that thing may be. Many people still use the basics of that view when it comes to sex, and this has profound implications for the ethics of sex. But the assumption seems flat out wrong, and hence the ethics based on the function argument seems poor at best.
Aristotle argued that the word good is always contextual, getting its meaning from the noun it modified, and the noun gets its meaning by its particular function. So, a pianist is someone that plays the piano, and a good pianist is one that plays the piano well. When you find the unique function of an object, you can then understand what a "good" object maybe, be it a piano player, or a car.
He argued that the function of man is not mere nutrition and growth, because these attributes are shared with plants, and so are not man's unique function. He argued that sense perception and movement are not man's function, because these are shared with animals. Man's unique function is the use of reason, hence the function of man is to reason, and a good man reason's well, both in practical life as well as in the contemplative life.
The immediate effect of the argument is to place an emphasis on reason, and on the unique characteristics of man, separating him from being an animal. Hence those features of human existence that we share with animals are downgraded, and acting like animals is a bad thing. And if its a bad thing, then anything which takes us away from our rational, human nature is degrading and very bad.
If this argument is not right, then it is very easy to see why some philosophers (like Kant) holds that sex is inherently degrading, reducing us to animals, and hence morally reprehensible. Sex might be necessary to keep the species going, but not good in itself, not to be valued as anything except useful for procreation. (Of course it follows that if sex is valuable for its unique function, and the only function it has that is truly unique is procreation, that good sex is reproductive sex. You may think you have had good sex before, but if it did not produce offspring, you are wrong. And you might have thought that sex that cause a child was not all that, but again, you would be wrong. The best sex, according to this argument, is one where a child is conceived.)
We might grant that procreation is the only unique function sex has, but it is obvious sex has many other functions that are not unique. You might think, for example, that it brings couples closer. Everyone must grant other actions can do that as well, so it is not the unique function, but few can deny that it can also have that effect as well.
Here, then, is the question: Why would the obvious uniqueness of one function make the others irrelevant, or even elevate the unique function? Why is value tied to the unique function? Why cannot we attach meaning and hence value to any purpose we give to any act or person? Then, no longer accepting to split between animal and human, as we no longer accept the function argument, we need no longer look at our animalistic nature with horror and dread. Deny that the only function which counts is the unique function, and off we go with a very different conception of value and ethics. So what justifies the assumption either that function is unique or that only the unique function is the one that counts?
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Battlestar Gallactica and Philosophy
By Hanno
I had a professor at the University of Texas who taught a course called "Philosophy and Literature," which I mistakenly thought would be about, uh, literature. Instead Nick Asher (famed logician and philosopher, good guy, too) used science fiction as the backdrop for philosophical thought. We read Dune, Nueromancer, some David Brin, etc.. [Interesting side note: Nick wrote me a letter of recommendation for graduate school based on that one course, and the papers I wrote for him. I went to see him to make sure the letter writing was going okay, and he told me that he was having a little difficulty, given the course, in not sounding totally out of his mind as he described my work.]
Lord Matt has been trying to get me to watch the new Battlestar Gallactica series on DVD, and claimed there was much philosophy contained therein. Still not sure what he had in mind (although I do think some classic philosophy of mind questions are at work... unfortunately, that's not my cup of tea.) But lately one theme has struck me.
In the first season, the civilian authority and the military authority come to an agreement, splitting sovereignty by granting him control of military matters, and her authority over all others. No big deal is made of that agreement, but in the second season, trouble brews as the President urges a member of the military to not pay attention to her orders, compromise her mission, and complete a task the military commander has already rejected. The officer does what the President asks, which then prompts the military commander to suspend, arrest and jail the "President," amid questions of legitimacy. This provokes a civil war (though a one sided civil war, as the military has full control of, uh, the military.) Some people support the President, others the Military leader. Sides are drawn up, and chaos is about to reign.
Hobbes, in his classic Leviathan, argued against splitting sovereignty (giving one person or group of people authority over one area, and another over another) for precisely the same reason in 1651. He argued that the purpose of sovereign authority was to get people out of the state of war by making fear of other people irrational. But splitting sovereignty sets up a situation which makes it easy for people to rationally justify civil war, and hence plunging the community into the very state the establishment of government was meant to avoid. In his day, sovereignty was split between the King and Parliament, and when they came to a clash on some point of controversy, the result was the English Civil Wars.
Hobbes writes:
I had a professor at the University of Texas who taught a course called "Philosophy and Literature," which I mistakenly thought would be about, uh, literature. Instead Nick Asher (famed logician and philosopher, good guy, too) used science fiction as the backdrop for philosophical thought. We read Dune, Nueromancer, some David Brin, etc.. [Interesting side note: Nick wrote me a letter of recommendation for graduate school based on that one course, and the papers I wrote for him. I went to see him to make sure the letter writing was going okay, and he told me that he was having a little difficulty, given the course, in not sounding totally out of his mind as he described my work.]
Lord Matt has been trying to get me to watch the new Battlestar Gallactica series on DVD, and claimed there was much philosophy contained therein. Still not sure what he had in mind (although I do think some classic philosophy of mind questions are at work... unfortunately, that's not my cup of tea.) But lately one theme has struck me.
In the first season, the civilian authority and the military authority come to an agreement, splitting sovereignty by granting him control of military matters, and her authority over all others. No big deal is made of that agreement, but in the second season, trouble brews as the President urges a member of the military to not pay attention to her orders, compromise her mission, and complete a task the military commander has already rejected. The officer does what the President asks, which then prompts the military commander to suspend, arrest and jail the "President," amid questions of legitimacy. This provokes a civil war (though a one sided civil war, as the military has full control of, uh, the military.) Some people support the President, others the Military leader. Sides are drawn up, and chaos is about to reign.
Hobbes, in his classic Leviathan, argued against splitting sovereignty (giving one person or group of people authority over one area, and another over another) for precisely the same reason in 1651. He argued that the purpose of sovereign authority was to get people out of the state of war by making fear of other people irrational. But splitting sovereignty sets up a situation which makes it easy for people to rationally justify civil war, and hence plunging the community into the very state the establishment of government was meant to avoid. In his day, sovereignty was split between the King and Parliament, and when they came to a clash on some point of controversy, the result was the English Civil Wars.
Hobbes writes:
"A kingdom divided in itself cannot stand: For unless this division proceed, division into opposite armies can never happen. If there had not first been an opinion received of the greatest part of England, that these powers were divided between the King, and the Lords and House of Commons, the people had never been divided, and fallen into this Civil War;"Of course, BSG then blows it by healing the rift without any attempt to solve the problem. The two leaders just look at each other and start working together.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Information regarding philosophy majors, concentrations, etc., etc.
Hey, all.
I talked with Ray Miles yesterday, and he provided me with some information regarding getting the philosophy major up and running. He stressed that this is a long process, and it is entirely possible that (depending on what year you are), you may not still be a student here by the time it is official.
That being said, there are a number of things that need to happen in the meantime. Hanno and I had a discussion regarding potential concentrations to attach to existing majors, and I'll be running a few ideas past Todd, too, in order to maximize the availability of philosophy to McNeese students (e.g., attaching a bioethics concentration to the nursin curriculum, or a generalized philosophy concentration applicable to most majors).
So, what is this "concentration" I've mentioned? It's a minor in philosophy. Kinda. The only real difference is the number of syllables, and that because Louisiana is goofy, you can't officially have a minor without a major. A concentration requires 18 credits, but allows us flexibility in development (i.e., we can decide what will constitute the core courses, and what will constitute electives).
The philosophy faculty will be sitting down at some point to hammer out the finer points, but I thought it would be useful to get feedback from you all, too. I'm thinking that we can discuss this on Monday (and this will be a good meeting to bring all of your friends who are interested in philosophy, as this will be our best chance to gauge student interests). I am also happy to print out the recommendations from the American Philosophical Association regarding the recommended core elements of a philosophy curriculum. Additionally, I will be putting together a quick anonymous survey regarding a major to foist upon all of my students (with an incentive for completing it), which will give us some qualitative and quantitative data we can peruse.
In regards to getting an actual major up and running, Ray advised letter writing (Hanno and I had talked about petitions, but Ray suggested that they would be functionally meaningless). It isn't enough to write a letter just saying you want a philosophy major; the letter should contain what you plan to do with a philosophy major (e.g., "it will help me with my plans for law school, graduate school, etc., and here's how"). I have data on the extraordinary success philosophy majors have had on standardized exams like the GRE, MCAT, LSAT, etc., and I'm happy to send anyone information on that (we consistently outperform almost every other major and discipline; contact me at mbutkus@mcneese.edu), as well as testimonials from individuals in a number of professions describing how the philosophy major has helped them. I have several of these posted outside of my office (222-M Kaufman Hall). These letters can go to a number of people (and, in fact, I would suggest sending individualized copies to all of them):
Dr. Jeanne Daboval (Vice President of Academic Affairs)
Dr. Ray Miles (Dean, College of Liberal Arts)
Dr. Billy Turner (Dept. Head, Social Sciences)
It would be good for us (the philosophy faculty) to maintain hard copies of these letters, too, as a record of student interest. I'm happy to donate a drawer in my filing cabinet.
Additionally, Ray recommended getting letters from the outside community (e.g., professionals outside of McNeese who have benefitted from studying/majoring in philosophy) to demonstrate applicability and practicality of the major. Philosophy majors pop up in a number of expected and unexpected places - I'd suggest checking law firms to start.
Anyway, we can discuss all of this at the meeting. I can't emphasize enough how important it will be to show large student interest, both in the philosophy club as well as the philosophy major. So, bring friends, friends of friends, shanghai random students and drag them along, etc.
-Matthew Butkus, PhD
I talked with Ray Miles yesterday, and he provided me with some information regarding getting the philosophy major up and running. He stressed that this is a long process, and it is entirely possible that (depending on what year you are), you may not still be a student here by the time it is official.
That being said, there are a number of things that need to happen in the meantime. Hanno and I had a discussion regarding potential concentrations to attach to existing majors, and I'll be running a few ideas past Todd, too, in order to maximize the availability of philosophy to McNeese students (e.g., attaching a bioethics concentration to the nursin curriculum, or a generalized philosophy concentration applicable to most majors).
So, what is this "concentration" I've mentioned? It's a minor in philosophy. Kinda. The only real difference is the number of syllables, and that because Louisiana is goofy, you can't officially have a minor without a major. A concentration requires 18 credits, but allows us flexibility in development (i.e., we can decide what will constitute the core courses, and what will constitute electives).
The philosophy faculty will be sitting down at some point to hammer out the finer points, but I thought it would be useful to get feedback from you all, too. I'm thinking that we can discuss this on Monday (and this will be a good meeting to bring all of your friends who are interested in philosophy, as this will be our best chance to gauge student interests). I am also happy to print out the recommendations from the American Philosophical Association regarding the recommended core elements of a philosophy curriculum. Additionally, I will be putting together a quick anonymous survey regarding a major to foist upon all of my students (with an incentive for completing it), which will give us some qualitative and quantitative data we can peruse.
In regards to getting an actual major up and running, Ray advised letter writing (Hanno and I had talked about petitions, but Ray suggested that they would be functionally meaningless). It isn't enough to write a letter just saying you want a philosophy major; the letter should contain what you plan to do with a philosophy major (e.g., "it will help me with my plans for law school, graduate school, etc., and here's how"). I have data on the extraordinary success philosophy majors have had on standardized exams like the GRE, MCAT, LSAT, etc., and I'm happy to send anyone information on that (we consistently outperform almost every other major and discipline; contact me at mbutkus@mcneese.edu), as well as testimonials from individuals in a number of professions describing how the philosophy major has helped them. I have several of these posted outside of my office (222-M Kaufman Hall). These letters can go to a number of people (and, in fact, I would suggest sending individualized copies to all of them):
Dr. Jeanne Daboval (Vice President of Academic Affairs)
Dr. Ray Miles (Dean, College of Liberal Arts)
Dr. Billy Turner (Dept. Head, Social Sciences)
It would be good for us (the philosophy faculty) to maintain hard copies of these letters, too, as a record of student interest. I'm happy to donate a drawer in my filing cabinet.
Additionally, Ray recommended getting letters from the outside community (e.g., professionals outside of McNeese who have benefitted from studying/majoring in philosophy) to demonstrate applicability and practicality of the major. Philosophy majors pop up in a number of expected and unexpected places - I'd suggest checking law firms to start.
Anyway, we can discuss all of this at the meeting. I can't emphasize enough how important it will be to show large student interest, both in the philosophy club as well as the philosophy major. So, bring friends, friends of friends, shanghai random students and drag them along, etc.
-Matthew Butkus, PhD
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Real Difference Between Liberals and Conservatives
Jonathan Haidt, a psychologist from the University of Virginia, provides a compelling argument about moral psychology and the political mind. According to Haidt, there are five psychological systems that provide the foundations for the world's many moralities.
The five foundations are:
1.) harm/care
2.) fairness/reciprocity
3.) ingroup/loyalty
4.) authority/respect
5.) purity/sanctity.
Haidt makes the case that political liberals have moral intuitions primarily based upon the first two foundations. Political conservatives, on the other hand, have moral intuitions primarily based upon all five foundations.
Does this adequately describe you? As a conservative? As a liberal? Given this rubric, where do you think political "others" fall on this spectrum?
You can watch Haidt's presentation here.
Call For Papers and External Reviewers
Call For Papers
Stance: An International Undergraduate Philosophy Journal
Submission Guidelines:
Stance welcomes papers concerning any philosophical topic. Current undergraduates may submit papers between 1500 and 3500 words in length (exclusive of notes and bibliography). Papers should avoid unnecessary technicality and strive to be accessible to the widest possible audience without sacrificing clarity or rigor. They are evaluated on the following criteria: depth of inquiry, quality of research, creativity, lucidity, and originality. For more specific guidelines see the website.
Submission Procedures:
• Manuscripts should be in Microsoft Word format and sent as an attachment to stance@bsu.edu
• Manuscripts should be double spaced (including quotations, excerpts, and footnotes)
• The right margin should not be justified
• To facilitate our anonymous review process, submissions are to be prepared for blind review. Include a cover page with the author’s name, affiliation, title, and email address. Papers, including footnotes, should have no other identifying markers.
• Footnotes should use the author-date format found in The Chicago Manual of Style.
• Please use American spellings and punctuation, except when directly quoting a source that has followed British style.
VISIT STANCE ON THE WEB AT HTTP://STANCE.IWEB.BSU.EDU/
Deadline: Friday, December 19, 2008
Call for External Reviewers
Stance: An International Undergraduate Philosophy Journal
Stance is looking for interested undergraduate philosophy students to serve as external reviewers for this year’s issue. This is an exciting opportunity to gain experience working for a groundbreaking journal in the field of philosophy, as well as a chance to hone your skills in writing and reviewing philosophy papers.
Participation in this project will require a moderate level of experience in philosophy, strengths in writing and editing, as well as a sufficient degree of self-motivation necessary to complete the work by the given deadlines. We anticipate that each external reviewer will be sent one or two papers to review in late December or early January. It is possible that a reviewer will be asked to review one or two further submissions later in the spring if a particular piece requires further consideration. If accepted as an external reviewer, training material will be provided that will explain what is expected in the formal review. Reviewers will also be credited in both the print and electronic versions of the journal.
If you are interested, please provide us with the following information:
Name:
Name of School:
Year in School:
Major(s)/Minor(s):
Philosophy Courses Taken:
Your specialty, or concentration
What experience do you have that would qualify you for this project?
What goals do you have that working on Stance will support?
What, in your opinion, are the makings of a good philosophy paper?
Along with this application, we have provided a further application form to serve as a letter of recommendation from a philosophy professor with whom you have worked. Please have both items returned to us by e-mail at STANCE@bsu.edu or by mail at:
Stance
Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies
Ball State University
Muncie, Indiana 47306-0500
Postmarked By: November 3
Stance: An International Undergraduate Philosophy Journal
Submission Guidelines:
Stance welcomes papers concerning any philosophical topic. Current undergraduates may submit papers between 1500 and 3500 words in length (exclusive of notes and bibliography). Papers should avoid unnecessary technicality and strive to be accessible to the widest possible audience without sacrificing clarity or rigor. They are evaluated on the following criteria: depth of inquiry, quality of research, creativity, lucidity, and originality. For more specific guidelines see the website.
Submission Procedures:
• Manuscripts should be in Microsoft Word format and sent as an attachment to stance@bsu.edu
• Manuscripts should be double spaced (including quotations, excerpts, and footnotes)
• The right margin should not be justified
• To facilitate our anonymous review process, submissions are to be prepared for blind review. Include a cover page with the author’s name, affiliation, title, and email address. Papers, including footnotes, should have no other identifying markers.
• Footnotes should use the author-date format found in The Chicago Manual of Style.
• Please use American spellings and punctuation, except when directly quoting a source that has followed British style.
VISIT STANCE ON THE WEB AT HTTP://STANCE.IWEB.BSU.EDU/
Deadline: Friday, December 19, 2008
Call for External Reviewers
Stance: An International Undergraduate Philosophy Journal
Stance is looking for interested undergraduate philosophy students to serve as external reviewers for this year’s issue. This is an exciting opportunity to gain experience working for a groundbreaking journal in the field of philosophy, as well as a chance to hone your skills in writing and reviewing philosophy papers.
Participation in this project will require a moderate level of experience in philosophy, strengths in writing and editing, as well as a sufficient degree of self-motivation necessary to complete the work by the given deadlines. We anticipate that each external reviewer will be sent one or two papers to review in late December or early January. It is possible that a reviewer will be asked to review one or two further submissions later in the spring if a particular piece requires further consideration. If accepted as an external reviewer, training material will be provided that will explain what is expected in the formal review. Reviewers will also be credited in both the print and electronic versions of the journal.
If you are interested, please provide us with the following information:
Name:
Name of School:
Year in School:
Major(s)/Minor(s):
Philosophy Courses Taken:
Your specialty, or concentration
What experience do you have that would qualify you for this project?
What goals do you have that working on Stance will support?
What, in your opinion, are the makings of a good philosophy paper?
Along with this application, we have provided a further application form to serve as a letter of recommendation from a philosophy professor with whom you have worked. Please have both items returned to us by e-mail at STANCE@bsu.edu or by mail at:
Stance
Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies
Ball State University
Muncie, Indiana 47306-0500
Postmarked By: November 3
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Pre-Game Coin Toss Makes Jaguars Realize Randomness Of Life
At the last philosophy club, some of you expressed interested in professor Furman offering Existentialism as a philosophy course in the future (I am looking at you Mike Chavez). A few of you have already encountered existential philosophers in a previous course (Sartre or Camus, for example). However, some of you probably have not. As the humorous Onion video suggests, existentialism is a philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe. As a corollary, individuals create the meaning for their lives.
How does this idea strike you? Do you believe life is basically meaningless and random? Moreover, does this randomness suggest that people are entirely free and thus responsible for their actions? On the other hand, does this randomness suggest that our actions are futile and nothing else matters (as Metallica would say)? Some suggest that Camus ultimately answered this question by purposefully crashing his car on January 4, 1960...thus ending his life.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Knowledge and Necessary Truth
by Hanno
Most people grant that the following claim is true: If I know P, then P must be true, or alternatively, then necessarily P. What is the meaning of the consequent? There are at least three. The claim could assert the certainty of P, given that P is known. The sentence would then read: If I know that P, then P is certain. This seems perfectly fine.
But there is an alternative meaning: that knowing P implies the necessity of P. A claim is necessary if it is impossible for it to be false. There are two kinds of necessary truths. The first are made true by virtue of the meaning of the terms involved. These truths are called "De Dicto," and examples are "Bachelors are unmarried," and "Unicorns have one horn." These are frequently called "analytic truths," following Kant. The other kinds of necessary truths are more controversial. These are called "De Re," and are somehow necessary in virtue of the object itself, and not merely the description. If there is no de re necessity, then all non-analytic truths are not necessarily true. Primary examples of de re necessity: Gold has 79 protons, gold is atomic. These are not analytic because they were discoveries, and analytic truths are not. If true, they are necessarily true. But we could be wrong, we might have made an error in discovery.
Be that as it may, there are several examples of claims that are not necessary. "Hanno exists," "Hanno's phone number is 555-1212." Notice then what happens. If the initial claim is true, then the claim "If I know Hanno exists, then necessarily, Hanno exists." Well, I do know that Hanno exists. It follows that Hanno necessarily exists. That cannot be right, since my existence is surely contingent on many factors. Just because I know my phone number does not mean I could not have had another, or no phone number at all.
Now, if the second reading of the initial claim were right, knowledge all by itself would imply the necessity of everything known. If some being knew everything, then everything would be necessary. But knowledge by itself does not imply the metaphysical necessity of everything, but merely the epistemic necessity (certainty).
But if we follow the grammar of the initial claim, we can see the error. The necessity does not apply to the proposition, but to the implication. The third way of reading the initial claim is: It follows necessarily that if I know P, then P. This is not a claim about certainty, nor is it a claim about the necessity of P. It is a claim about the necessity of the connection between the antecedent and the consequent, between "I know P" and P. On this reading, I can know Hanno exists, and grant the first claim. But what follows is merely that Hanno exists. My existence is no longer necessary, and the rest of the world can breath a sigh of relief.
It then follows that even if some being knows everything, it does not follow that everything that happens happens necessarily. That may still be true, but it does not follow merely from the state of knowledge.
Most people grant that the following claim is true: If I know P, then P must be true, or alternatively, then necessarily P. What is the meaning of the consequent? There are at least three. The claim could assert the certainty of P, given that P is known. The sentence would then read: If I know that P, then P is certain. This seems perfectly fine.
But there is an alternative meaning: that knowing P implies the necessity of P. A claim is necessary if it is impossible for it to be false. There are two kinds of necessary truths. The first are made true by virtue of the meaning of the terms involved. These truths are called "De Dicto," and examples are "Bachelors are unmarried," and "Unicorns have one horn." These are frequently called "analytic truths," following Kant. The other kinds of necessary truths are more controversial. These are called "De Re," and are somehow necessary in virtue of the object itself, and not merely the description. If there is no de re necessity, then all non-analytic truths are not necessarily true. Primary examples of de re necessity: Gold has 79 protons, gold is atomic. These are not analytic because they were discoveries, and analytic truths are not. If true, they are necessarily true. But we could be wrong, we might have made an error in discovery.
Be that as it may, there are several examples of claims that are not necessary. "Hanno exists," "Hanno's phone number is 555-1212." Notice then what happens. If the initial claim is true, then the claim "If I know Hanno exists, then necessarily, Hanno exists." Well, I do know that Hanno exists. It follows that Hanno necessarily exists. That cannot be right, since my existence is surely contingent on many factors. Just because I know my phone number does not mean I could not have had another, or no phone number at all.
Now, if the second reading of the initial claim were right, knowledge all by itself would imply the necessity of everything known. If some being knew everything, then everything would be necessary. But knowledge by itself does not imply the metaphysical necessity of everything, but merely the epistemic necessity (certainty).
But if we follow the grammar of the initial claim, we can see the error. The necessity does not apply to the proposition, but to the implication. The third way of reading the initial claim is: It follows necessarily that if I know P, then P. This is not a claim about certainty, nor is it a claim about the necessity of P. It is a claim about the necessity of the connection between the antecedent and the consequent, between "I know P" and P. On this reading, I can know Hanno exists, and grant the first claim. But what follows is merely that Hanno exists. My existence is no longer necessary, and the rest of the world can breath a sigh of relief.
It then follows that even if some being knows everything, it does not follow that everything that happens happens necessarily. That may still be true, but it does not follow merely from the state of knowledge.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Is Paying For Music Wrong?
This is a response to the last post entitled “Is Stealing Music Wrong?”
Merely by posing the question in that form, the author has already conceded to his opponents the bulk what they themselves have to proof; namely, that "file-sharing" is stealing. By making this concession, the burden now falls upon the author to make a moral justification for "theft."
Not that this burden is insurmountable. Even within traditional approaches to ethics there are weighty moral arguments for "theft" of specific objects from specific persons under specific conditions. Those arguments invariably rest upon conditions of the material or social value of the pilfered item, the proportionate distribution of property between the thief and the victim of theft, the frequency of theft or immediacy of need, and (most importantly) the issue of life or health (e.g., the peasant stealing a sack of wheat from a wealthy nobleman to feed his starving family). This example should illustrate the problem a defender of file-sharing would face availing herself to this exception, given that it would strain the imagination to conceive of a case where downloading music, movies, games, etc. would serve immediate vital needs. To make a moral case for the "stealing" of copyrighted media, the file-sharing advocate really has no recourse to the limit cases of traditional ethics.
Let's be clear that the question “Is stealing music wrong?” is a moral and not a legal (in the sense of "positive law") one. Any group of bureaucrats can, with the fiat of the courts, define what constitutes "stealing." What we are aiming at is the essence of what it means "to steal."
Let's look at "stealing." Granting that there is a synonymous relationship between the verb "to steal" and the noun form "theft" such that we can substitute (mutatis mutandis) one concept for the other, we can avail ourselves to to Merriam-Webster, which defines "theft" as “the act of stealing; specifically: the felonious taking and removing of personal property with intent to deprive the rightful owner of it.” Let's examine what is covered in the "specifically" clause by way of an example:
Now, let's draw our attention to the two words: "removing" and "deprive." Take a second example:
It is unfortunate that such circumstances seldom obtain in nature. Because of the limitations of material objects, most things can only be used by one or a few persons at a given time, exist in limited quantities, or for a limited duration. Those things that have been perceived to be free and of an unlimited supply have been recognized by almost all pre-industrial cultures as available to everyone in the community to use as they see fit, providing their use neither diminishes the same ability for others or in some way imposes limits upon the supply available for the community. This is what has traditionally been referred to in English, "the Commons." The notion of the commons was always applied to material things whose very existence could be jeopardized through its use.
Wouldn't it be great if there were some aspect of reality that did not suffer from these material limitations? That we could somehow have at our disposal, that we could in some way take possession of without depriving others of the same possession? Or that we could reproduce an infinite number of times without diminishing resources upon which it is made?
If Jack approaches Jill and asks for her bucket, Jill has two choices: she can either give him the bucket or not. "To give" means to relinquish your possession of a thing. If Jack & Jill come to an agreement where Jack can use the bucket for a designated period of time, and then he returns it to Jill for a period of time, and back and forth, we usually call this "sharing." But it is only "sharing" in an analogous sense, since at any given time only one of them have possession of the bucket, and the other one doesn't. With physical things, we often use the term "sharing" in this restricted sense: “I am sharing a bench” or “I am sharing my ice cream.” But in both cases what you are doing is relinquishing (giving) a portion of your possession to another.
What makes so-called "intellectual property" different from real property is that it does not suffer from the limitations of materiality described above. What the "intellectual" designates is that it is based on ideas rather than physical matter. Ideas need only a base set of experiences to be duplicated. If Jill shows Jack how to make a bucket, Jack "possesses" the knowledge of making a bucket to the same degree as Jill, without depriving Jill of her own knowledge of bucket-making. Jack might still need some tin to make a bucket, but by being taught by Jill how to make a bucket, he now has the knowledge of bucket-building. The means by which ideas are duplicated is by experience. Anyone who sees, hears, tastes, etc. can potentially duplicate the idea. Ideas can be "given" is such a way that the giver doesn't relinquish possession of what is given. If you have an idea, as soon as you share that idea with others, they have full possession of the idea as well. This is "sharing" in the fullest sense. Additionally, when an idea is shared with others, that idea becomes the building block for new ideas and new applications of that idea.
In an altruistic society (that is to say, a healthy society) the question of ownership would only arise in those circumstances where the materiality of property prevents the equal access by two or more parties. The notion that "theft" would apply to something which two or more parties can have equal access to is not only an absurity, but the questionable party in such a disagreement would be the one who seeks to make a claim of ownership to what could easily be accessible to all.
If, instead of making buckets, Jill composed a song, by hearing & remembering to a sufficient degree to recite the song, Jack now also possesses the knowledge of this song. Jill has a legitimate claim to being the composer of the song, but only way Jill can prevent Jack from reciting the song (if she can't convince him not to) is under the treat of violence. It is only by instituing a system of violence that anyone can effectively convince others of their society to pay for something that is naturally accessible to all.
Merely by posing the question in that form, the author has already conceded to his opponents the bulk what they themselves have to proof; namely, that "file-sharing" is stealing. By making this concession, the burden now falls upon the author to make a moral justification for "theft."
Not that this burden is insurmountable. Even within traditional approaches to ethics there are weighty moral arguments for "theft" of specific objects from specific persons under specific conditions. Those arguments invariably rest upon conditions of the material or social value of the pilfered item, the proportionate distribution of property between the thief and the victim of theft, the frequency of theft or immediacy of need, and (most importantly) the issue of life or health (e.g., the peasant stealing a sack of wheat from a wealthy nobleman to feed his starving family). This example should illustrate the problem a defender of file-sharing would face availing herself to this exception, given that it would strain the imagination to conceive of a case where downloading music, movies, games, etc. would serve immediate vital needs. To make a moral case for the "stealing" of copyrighted media, the file-sharing advocate really has no recourse to the limit cases of traditional ethics.
Let's be clear that the question “Is stealing music wrong?” is a moral and not a legal (in the sense of "positive law") one. Any group of bureaucrats can, with the fiat of the courts, define what constitutes "stealing." What we are aiming at is the essence of what it means "to steal."
Let's look at "stealing." Granting that there is a synonymous relationship between the verb "to steal" and the noun form "theft" such that we can substitute (mutatis mutandis) one concept for the other, we can avail ourselves to to Merriam-Webster, which defines "theft" as “the act of stealing; specifically: the felonious taking and removing of personal property with intent to deprive the rightful owner of it.” Let's examine what is covered in the "specifically" clause by way of an example:
Jack and Jill live on opposite sides of a hill. Jill has a bucket which she built using scrap materials found on her side of the hill. Jack doesn't have a bucket, or any kind of water-fetching device, lacking the material with which to fashion such a device. Upon learning that Jill has a water-fetching device, Jack goes to Jill's side of the hill, takes her bucket, and leaves.
Turning to the particular wording of our clause, we will set aside the adjective "felonious," since it only establishes the juridical status the “taking and removing”, which we're not really interested in (for the moment, anyway). “Taking and removing” is the act Jack performs in relation to "personal" (belonging to Jill) "property" (the bucket). This act is "intentional," since Jack is purposefully went over the hill to take and remove the bucket, thus "depriving" the "rightful owner" (Jill) of the use of the bucket. The aspect of this scenario which we recognize as wrong is that Jill obviously had a claim on the television set, and Jack unjustly deprived her of ability to make use of that claim.
Now, let's draw our attention to the two words: "removing" and "deprive." Take a second example:
Jill has a free and unlimited supply of fresh running water on her side of the hill. Jack does not, having only a limited supply which, while adequate for his basic needs, requires that he closely monitor his use. Upon learning that Jill, on the other hand, has an unlimited supply of fresh water, Jack takes a bucket (not the one he stole from Jill), goes over the hill, fills his bucket with water, and leaves.
In this second example, Jack “takes and removes” water from Jill's side of the hill, but what makes this scenario different is that there is no "depriving" her of the use of that possession. Jill still has free and unlimited access to water. The portion that Jack takes in no way effects her ability to have access to free and unlimited water.It is unfortunate that such circumstances seldom obtain in nature. Because of the limitations of material objects, most things can only be used by one or a few persons at a given time, exist in limited quantities, or for a limited duration. Those things that have been perceived to be free and of an unlimited supply have been recognized by almost all pre-industrial cultures as available to everyone in the community to use as they see fit, providing their use neither diminishes the same ability for others or in some way imposes limits upon the supply available for the community. This is what has traditionally been referred to in English, "the Commons." The notion of the commons was always applied to material things whose very existence could be jeopardized through its use.
Wouldn't it be great if there were some aspect of reality that did not suffer from these material limitations? That we could somehow have at our disposal, that we could in some way take possession of without depriving others of the same possession? Or that we could reproduce an infinite number of times without diminishing resources upon which it is made?
If Jack approaches Jill and asks for her bucket, Jill has two choices: she can either give him the bucket or not. "To give" means to relinquish your possession of a thing. If Jack & Jill come to an agreement where Jack can use the bucket for a designated period of time, and then he returns it to Jill for a period of time, and back and forth, we usually call this "sharing." But it is only "sharing" in an analogous sense, since at any given time only one of them have possession of the bucket, and the other one doesn't. With physical things, we often use the term "sharing" in this restricted sense: “I am sharing a bench” or “I am sharing my ice cream.” But in both cases what you are doing is relinquishing (giving) a portion of your possession to another.
What makes so-called "intellectual property" different from real property is that it does not suffer from the limitations of materiality described above. What the "intellectual" designates is that it is based on ideas rather than physical matter. Ideas need only a base set of experiences to be duplicated. If Jill shows Jack how to make a bucket, Jack "possesses" the knowledge of making a bucket to the same degree as Jill, without depriving Jill of her own knowledge of bucket-making. Jack might still need some tin to make a bucket, but by being taught by Jill how to make a bucket, he now has the knowledge of bucket-building. The means by which ideas are duplicated is by experience. Anyone who sees, hears, tastes, etc. can potentially duplicate the idea. Ideas can be "given" is such a way that the giver doesn't relinquish possession of what is given. If you have an idea, as soon as you share that idea with others, they have full possession of the idea as well. This is "sharing" in the fullest sense. Additionally, when an idea is shared with others, that idea becomes the building block for new ideas and new applications of that idea.
In an altruistic society (that is to say, a healthy society) the question of ownership would only arise in those circumstances where the materiality of property prevents the equal access by two or more parties. The notion that "theft" would apply to something which two or more parties can have equal access to is not only an absurity, but the questionable party in such a disagreement would be the one who seeks to make a claim of ownership to what could easily be accessible to all.
If, instead of making buckets, Jill composed a song, by hearing & remembering to a sufficient degree to recite the song, Jack now also possesses the knowledge of this song. Jill has a legitimate claim to being the composer of the song, but only way Jill can prevent Jack from reciting the song (if she can't convince him not to) is under the treat of violence. It is only by instituing a system of violence that anyone can effectively convince others of their society to pay for something that is naturally accessible to all.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Is Stealing Music Wrong?
This post is largely in response to Hanno's request that I address whether stealing music is wrong. Specifically, stealing music digitally (p2p or peer-2-peer networks such as Limewire or Kazaa). However, a simple yes or no will not suffice. Stealing a physical cd from the record store is different than ripping a song off of a p2p site. In the store you are stealing physical property, on the internet you are stealing intellectual property. One of the major differences is copyright law. When you download a song, you are violating copyright law.
My answer to this question is largely shaped by one man: Lawrence Lessig. As he states, The original term of copyright set by the First Congress in 1790 was 14 years, renewable once. Now it is closer to two hundred. Thomas Jefferson considered protecting the public against overly long monopolies on creative works an essential government role. Who is copyright protecting? Consumers? Artists? Distributors?
Instead of providng a full defense here, I wish to simply begin the conversation by quoting from chapter 11 of Lessig's book, Free Culture:
The more I work to understand the current struggle over copyright and culture, which I’ve sometimes called unfairly, and sometimes not unfairly enough, “the copyright wars,” the more I think we’re dealing with a chimera. For example, in the battle over the question “What is p2p file sharing?” both sides have it right, and both sides have it wrong. One side says, “File sharing is just like two kids taping each others’ records—the sort of thing we’ve been doing for the last thirty years without any question at all.” That’s true, at least in part. When I tell my best friend to try out a new CD that I’ve bought, but rather than just send the CD, I point him to my p2p server, that is, in all relevant respects, just like what every executive in every recording company no doubt did as a kid: sharing music.
But the description is also false in part. For when my p2p server is on a p2p network through which anyone can get access to my music, then sure, my friends can get access, but it stretches the meaning of “friends” beyond recognition to say “my ten thousand best friends” can get access. Whether or not sharing my music with my best friend is what “we have always been allowed to do,” we have not always been allowed to share music with “our ten thousand best friends.”
Likewise, when the other side says, “File sharing is just like walking into a Tower Records and taking a CD off the shelf and walking out with it,” that’s true, at least in part. If, after Lyle Lovett (finally) releases a new album, rather than buying it, I go to Kazaa and find a free copy to take, that is very much like stealing a copy from Tower.
But it is not quite stealing from Tower. After all, when I take a CD from Tower Records, Tower has one less CD to sell. And when I take a CD from Tower Records, I get a bit of plastic and a cover, and something to show on my shelves. (And, while we’re at it, we could also note that when I take a CD from Tower Records, the maximum fine that might be imposed on me, under California law, at least, is $1,000. According to the RIAA, by contrast, if I download a ten-song CD, I’m liable for $1,500,000 in damages.)
The point is not that it is as neither side describes. The point is that it is both—both as the RIAA describes it and as Kazaa describes it. It is a chimera. And rather than simply denying what the other side asserts, we need to begin to think about how we should respond to this chimera. What rules should govern it?
This is a great topic to discuss at the philosophy club. My answer can't really be said any better than by Larry himself.
My answer to this question is largely shaped by one man: Lawrence Lessig. As he states, The original term of copyright set by the First Congress in 1790 was 14 years, renewable once. Now it is closer to two hundred. Thomas Jefferson considered protecting the public against overly long monopolies on creative works an essential government role. Who is copyright protecting? Consumers? Artists? Distributors?
Instead of providng a full defense here, I wish to simply begin the conversation by quoting from chapter 11 of Lessig's book, Free Culture:
The more I work to understand the current struggle over copyright and culture, which I’ve sometimes called unfairly, and sometimes not unfairly enough, “the copyright wars,” the more I think we’re dealing with a chimera. For example, in the battle over the question “What is p2p file sharing?” both sides have it right, and both sides have it wrong. One side says, “File sharing is just like two kids taping each others’ records—the sort of thing we’ve been doing for the last thirty years without any question at all.” That’s true, at least in part. When I tell my best friend to try out a new CD that I’ve bought, but rather than just send the CD, I point him to my p2p server, that is, in all relevant respects, just like what every executive in every recording company no doubt did as a kid: sharing music.
But the description is also false in part. For when my p2p server is on a p2p network through which anyone can get access to my music, then sure, my friends can get access, but it stretches the meaning of “friends” beyond recognition to say “my ten thousand best friends” can get access. Whether or not sharing my music with my best friend is what “we have always been allowed to do,” we have not always been allowed to share music with “our ten thousand best friends.”
Likewise, when the other side says, “File sharing is just like walking into a Tower Records and taking a CD off the shelf and walking out with it,” that’s true, at least in part. If, after Lyle Lovett (finally) releases a new album, rather than buying it, I go to Kazaa and find a free copy to take, that is very much like stealing a copy from Tower.
But it is not quite stealing from Tower. After all, when I take a CD from Tower Records, Tower has one less CD to sell. And when I take a CD from Tower Records, I get a bit of plastic and a cover, and something to show on my shelves. (And, while we’re at it, we could also note that when I take a CD from Tower Records, the maximum fine that might be imposed on me, under California law, at least, is $1,000. According to the RIAA, by contrast, if I download a ten-song CD, I’m liable for $1,500,000 in damages.)
The point is not that it is as neither side describes. The point is that it is both—both as the RIAA describes it and as Kazaa describes it. It is a chimera. And rather than simply denying what the other side asserts, we need to begin to think about how we should respond to this chimera. What rules should govern it?
This is a great topic to discuss at the philosophy club. My answer can't really be said any better than by Larry himself.
The Wisdom of Johnny Rotten, pt 3
By Hanno
At age 15, in 1971 (!), when to be cool was to be a hippie, have long hair, wear bell bottom jeans, etc., Rotten was told by his Dad to get his hair cut. He got it cropped, and turned it bright green. This, of course, at a time when no one is doing anything like that. No group of similar weirdos to hide with, no context for others to make any sense of his act of rebellion. One can only imagine the reaction.
By the time I grew up, someone might have gone punk in my school, (we did have a few), but they already had the context of punk to all others to make sense of what they were doing. You were being a punk. Joining a specific group. And the people who were the target of Punk ire used to (with a good bit of justification) charge that the punks claim to be so individualistic, but really, they just join a different group, and then work hard to fit in.
When Rotten does this, however, it is totally new, totally outside conventional and even conventional non-conventional behavior. To be sure, anger is the fuel. Rules in a society that make it so that as poor Irish kid in London has no future, and instead of accepting that, he strikes back with any weapon he can find.
There are good points and bad points in this psychology. One thing is clear: it can shake the world. But how desirable is it? In one person? In a society? Is politics possible with such a view? Ethics? Is community possible? Perhaps such an individual is the gadfly, like Socrates, that shakes up a society. But a society of gadflies cannot exist.
At age 15, in 1971 (!), when to be cool was to be a hippie, have long hair, wear bell bottom jeans, etc., Rotten was told by his Dad to get his hair cut. He got it cropped, and turned it bright green. This, of course, at a time when no one is doing anything like that. No group of similar weirdos to hide with, no context for others to make any sense of his act of rebellion. One can only imagine the reaction.
By the time I grew up, someone might have gone punk in my school, (we did have a few), but they already had the context of punk to all others to make sense of what they were doing. You were being a punk. Joining a specific group. And the people who were the target of Punk ire used to (with a good bit of justification) charge that the punks claim to be so individualistic, but really, they just join a different group, and then work hard to fit in.
When Rotten does this, however, it is totally new, totally outside conventional and even conventional non-conventional behavior. To be sure, anger is the fuel. Rules in a society that make it so that as poor Irish kid in London has no future, and instead of accepting that, he strikes back with any weapon he can find.
I'm not a revolutionary, a socialist or any of that. that's not what I'm about. An absolute sense of individualist is my politics. All political groups that I'm aware of on this planet seem to strive to suppress individuality. They need block voting numbers. They need units... If a homosexual inside the [ gay Liberation movement] dares stray away from what then term as the norm, then they victimize that person. Its replacing the same old system with a different clothing. I hate all groupings, any kind of gathering. It destroys personality and individuality. Maybe a roomful of people having very different ideas is chaotic, but its wonderfully chaotic, highly entertaining, and very educational... I don't suppose my kind of world can exist because there are so many sheep that need leaders. Let them bleat among the flock, that's not for me. I'd rather be the lone sheep out there fending off the wolves. It's much better. When you grow up in a working-class environment, you're supposed to stay inside and follow the rules and regulations of that little system. I won't have any of that. It's all wrong, equally bad. (p. 309)
There are good points and bad points in this psychology. One thing is clear: it can shake the world. But how desirable is it? In one person? In a society? Is politics possible with such a view? Ethics? Is community possible? Perhaps such an individual is the gadfly, like Socrates, that shakes up a society. But a society of gadflies cannot exist.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Philosophy Club Meeting: Monday, August 25th
The very first philosophy club meeting of the year will be taking place in Room C of the Frazar Library. With the addition of the new Community Coffee kiosk, we can now enjoy caffeine induced discussion and debate on campus!
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