Monday, January 11, 2016

Maximes on Justice

On the maxime as a philosophical genre, and on what I am doing in this post, see here.

Justice is written on pages of mercy.

Law that cannot be a good symbol of true justice is more usurpation than law. Through its code of law a nation not merely organizes itself but presents a symbolic representation of a just society; we judge laws good and bad as a whole based on how well or poorly they depict such a community of just people.

Law does not make one just, but it signifies, and disposes one to, justice.

Mercy is the heart of man and justice is his road.

The means for upholding justice can become means for holding it up.

Fortitude is the protection of justice; temperance prepares one to take joy in justice.

Just as virtue in a person is not merely knowledge, so justice in a society is not merely the knowledge of those who are in charge.

A precondition for justice in society is unity of heart.

The best way to understand the word 'sacred' is ardently to pursue justice.

Maximes on Reason
Maximes on Wisdom

Tridentine

In the Maronite calendar today happens to be the Memorial of the Holy Ecumenical Council of Trent. It's a minor memorial (I believe it uses the Saturday from Week A of Pentecost), but I thought I'd put up something from the Council to mark the day. From the Eighteenth Session:

The holy, ecumenical and general Council of Trent, lawfully assembled in the Holy Ghost, the same legates of the Apostolic See presiding, not confiding in human strength but relying on the power and support of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has promised to give to His Church a mouth and wisdom, has in view above all to restore to its purity and splendor the doctrine of the Catholic faith, which in many places has become defiled and obscured by the opinions of many differing among themselves, and to bring back to a better mode of life morals which have deviated from ancient usage, and to turn the heart of the fathers unto the children, and the heart of the children unto the fathers.

[The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, H. J. Schroeder, tr., TAN (Rockford, Illinois: 1978), p. 126.]

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Fortnightly Book, January 10

Since I've just come off a fairly busy holiday and am gearing up for a new term, I decided to avoid anything too heavy for the next fortnightly book. So I'll be reading Helen MacInnes's 1958 spy novel, North from Rome. I don't know whether this was my grandfather's or grandmother's, but I'll finally have gotten around to reading it.

Helen MacInnes was born in Glasgow in 1907 and came to the United States in 1937 when her husband was appointed chair of the Classics department at Columbia University. Her husband, Gilbert Highet, was a well known classicist. He also had done some intelligence work for the Secret Intelligence Service, popularly known as MI6. MacInnes would write 21 espionage novels, several of which were extremely popular. They were also famous for being surprisingly realistic -- some of them were occasionally used as required reading in training intelligence agents and there have always been rumors that she leaked classified information in her fiction. Thus she became known as the Queen of Spy Writers. It's interesting to look back at reviews and bestseller lists -- she's repeatedly mentioned in the same breath with Ian Fleming and John Le Carré (both of whom she often outsold) -- given that she's rarely remembered today.

In North from Rome, a playwright happens to save an Italian girl and ends up for his good deed having to navigate a world of Communism and drug dealing and international intrigue far more complicated than anything he has experienced before. It tends to get mixed reviews from fans, some really liking it and some thinking it weak; it perhaps suffers from falling between her two peak periods in the forties and sixties. We will see....

Rationalization

Schwitzgebel and Ellis have an interesting discussion of rationalization, in which they ask the question, "Would it be epistemically bad if moral and philosophical thinking were, to a substantial extent, highly biased post-hoc rationalization?" After giving three possible reasons for thinking that No is the correct answer, they give four reasons for thinking that Yes is the correct answer, claiming that the costs of rationalization outweigh the benefits. The four are:

(A) Rationalization leads to overconfidence.
(B) Rationalization impedes peer critique.
(C) Rationalization undermines self-critique.
(D) Rationalization disrupts the cooperative enterprise of dialogue.

None of these seem particularly strong. A major problem in general with taking rationalization to have a major effect on inquiry, individual or communal, is that we are almost never in a position to know whether an argument is a rationalization or not. Nothing about the argument works any differently; the only difference is the cause of its being put forward. It takes causal analysis, and, what is more, causal analysis of motives, to assess whether something is a rationalization. In most forms of inquiry, in most kinds of dialogue, in most kinds of peer interaction, we simply don't have enough information to know; the question of whether it's a rationalization or not will be invisible in those contexts. Why would one think that inquiry, dialogue, peer critique, are so fragile that subtle differences in motivations gum up the enterprise? And subtle they often are; we often have difficulty determining in our own case whether we are rationalizing or not. We still have to do the same kind of causal analysis on ourselves, and, while we have more information about ourselves than others, the experience of having difficulty sorting it is a common one.

It's unclear why they take rationalization to be a particularly significant cause of overconfidence, for instance. The argument is that "If one favors conclusion P and systematically pursues and evaluates evidence concerning P in a highly biased manner, it's likely (though not inevitable) that one will end up more confident in the truth of P than is epistemically warranted." But what's missing is a reason to think that rationalization is any more likely to be "highly biased" in this way than any other kind of reasoning, particularly given that we often have difficulty distinguishing rationalization from other kinds of reasoning. To be sure, the question is specifically about "highly biased post-hoc reasoning", but why would one be fretting about the post-hoc part if one already knew that it was highly biased? Why think rationalization is the problem when you are already postulating severe biases?

I've talked before about what I call convalidation of rationalization, in which what is originally a rationalization becomes, over time, our real reason for holding something. Rationalization is one source of real reasons. Schwitzgebel and Ellis seem not to countenance such a possibility, because (B), (C), and (D) seem to require that a rationalization is permanently a rationalization. Motives in reasoning, however, can change. What is more, they both seem to make significant assumptions. If one held a view that a major purpose of peer critique and dialogue is to understand possible reasons or to find public reasons or develop shared arguments (for instance), arguments and reasons that both groups can use regardless of how central they actually take them to be, would it really make any sense to say that rationalization impedes or disrupts this? Why assume that peer critique should always and everywhere examine the "real basis" for the argument? If I destroy someone's argument by showing that it is incoherent, and they just hunt around for a new argument, why does that even matter? I'll destroy that one, too, or, if I fail to do so, the discussion will at least have been upgraded to one in which we're not dealing with obviously incoherent arguments.

There are, of course, goals we might have in mind that would be interfered with by rationalization -- persuasion being the most obvious case. But there are good independent reasons going back to Plato for denying that rational dialogue and interaction should be primarily driven by persuasion. Other goals that would be messed with by rationalization seem all to be cooperative -- that is, we'd both already made a commitment that implicitly requires [rejecting] rationalization. They don't seem generalizable.

The strongest of the four reasons given is (C). But we're not always able to determine what our real reasons for believing are -- there are plenty of cases where the evidence will be ambiguous even to ourselves whether an argument is the real reason why we believe something. What do you do if you are not sure? It seems that you would just have to explore various arguments. Schwitzgebel and Ellis give sober assessment of evidence as a contrast to rationalization. But if you already believe something, how do you distinguish sober assessment of evidence that confirms your belief from rationalization? I see no reason to think we can do so consistently. The argument given seems to make the assumption that all rationalization is deliberate; but this is surely not so, and does not follow from their description of rationalization. Likewise, it seems to assume that we have extraordinary introspective clarity on these things; but in reality the only cases in which we can tell rationalization immediately is when we are deliberately lying.

It's also not clear how rationalization would itself impair self-critique. Surely one of the things self-critique is supposed to do, when it is possible, is uncover rationalization? The particular argument that Schwitzgebel and Ellis gives does not cover all self-critique, just an "important type"; but however important it is, there's no obvious reason why all reasoning, or even all philosophical reasoning and argument, needs to conform to this important type.

Rather amusingly, I'm always suspicious that arguments that rationalization is epistemically bad are really themselves rationalizations. The real reason most of us have a problem with rationalization is that there are lots of cases where it is morally bad -- I don't think it's true that most cases of rationalization are morally bad, but there are certainly some very morally bad situations that can arise through rationalization. And if it were true that "moral and philosophical thinking were, to a substantial extent, highly biased post-hoc rationalization" one would at least be reasonable to worry about the intellectual integrity and courage of people engaging in the moral and philosophical thinking, or to hope that there are things in place to compensate for the potential bad effects. But is it epistemically bad? Aren't we just trying to beef up our sense that rationalization is morally bad by finding ways it could be epistemically bad, too, in the way that people try to beef up their moral conclusions by saying that the bad thing is also unhealthy? There are likely some goals that are interfered with by some kinds of rationalization. But there are possible reasonable goals that can be interfered with by much more reputable kinds of reasoning than rationalization. And as I note above, it makes very little sense to suggest that our processes of inquiry, dialogue, and critique are so fragile that they can't handle or compensate for small, often undetectable, differences in motivations.

Maronite Year XVI

The Season of Epiphany that begins with this Feast is highly variable, because it has a fixed beginning but its end is ultimately determined by the variable feast of Easter. It may be as little as one week or as many as seven. Most of these currently celebrate a revelation of Christ, and as the season proceeds, the revelations expand outward: to John the Baptist, to the Apostles, to Nicodemus and the Judeans, to the Samaritan Woman and the Samaritans, to the Royal Official and all peoples. The weekdays of the weeks of Epiphany alternate an A liturgy and a B liturgy; the A liturgy focuses on the revelation to John the Baptist and the B liturgy focuses on the revelation to the Apostles. You'll notice, incidentally, that John the Baptist is very prominent in the Maronite liturgy.

Sometimes the three weeks of commemoration to follow are treated as being part of the Season of Epiphany, as well. Since Easter falls early in 2016, there is only one Sunday of Epiphany and the three commemoration Sundays before we begin to prepare for Easter.

First Sunday after Epiphany
2 Corinthians 10:1-11; John 1:29-34

John by the river saw Jesus
and proclaimed with true prophecy:
Behold the holy Lamb of God!
He takes away all of our sins;
I came that He might be revealed,
forgiveness radiant on the river.

O Son of the Almighty God!
You stooped to receive Your baptism.
The Father proclaimed You His Son.
The Holy Spirit like a dove
in power rested on Your head,
divinity radiant on the river.

With Your baptism You have clothed us,
the robe of glory you give to us,
the seal of the Holy Spirit,
the promise of holy rebirth
in water and in the Spirit
with Your light radiant on the river.

We do not fight with human strength;
we wield weapons of the Spirit.
The darkness has already lost;
with a glance from God light poured down
in magnificence and glory,
through His grace radiant on the river.

May divinity dwell in us
through the Spirit's descent on us;
may our minds receive Christ's great light.
Through Word and Spirit God made all;
Word and Spirit He gave to us
in splendor radiant on the river.

Saturday, January 09, 2016

Aquinas on the Beatitudes (II): Virtues and Gifts

As with other scholastic theologians, Aquinas's thinking about the beatitudes is heavily linked with his thinking about the gifts of the Holy Spirit, an idea that they derive from Augustine, and with other major elements of Christian life: virtues, moral precepts, fruits of the Holy Spirit, petitions of the Our Father, and so forth. Aquinas's own account in the Summa Theologiae is primarily structured by the primary infused virtues -- love, hope, faith, prudence, justice, fortitude, temperance. This makes uncovering his account of how the beatitudes fit into the scheme fairly complicated, since there is no one place one can look. There are also a number of features in Aquinas's account that make the correspondences less than straightforward. The very basic scheme, which, as we will see, requires some nuance, could be summarized like this:

Virtue GiftBeatitude
Faith UnderstandingPurity of Heart
KnowledgeMourning
HopeFear of the LordPoverty of Spirit
CharityWisdomPeacemaking
PrudenceCounselMercy
JusticePietyMeekness
FortitudeFortitudeHungering and Thirsting
Temperance
Persecution

Of the three obvious peculiarities of the scheme, we've already seen the reason for one of them: the beatitude of persecution is the summary beatitude, indicating completeness in all of the others, so it stands outside the main list of seven. The assignment of both understanding and knowledge, and thus of their appropriate beatitudes to faith has to do with the content of each gift. Aquinas makes no explicit assignment of any gift (and thus of any beatitude) to temperance; but he mentions in passing that the fruits of the Holy Spirit associated with the gift of fear are those that have to do with temperance, which suggests -- although it does not establish -- a connection between temperance to fear of the Lord and thus to poverty of spirit. (Which we find elsewhere; Bonaventure, for instance, takes temperance to correspond to fear and poverty of spirit.)

But the real reason for the peculiarities is that Aquinas does not think there is a single exact correspondence among these lists: you can relate them in different ways depending on what you are trying to do. For instance, in a sense we can associate every virtue with every gift: the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love are the principles of all the gifts, and the gifts contribute to the completion of all the virtues. When we associate the gifts and virtues we are not doing so exclusively but according to something they have in common. These commonalities are real (which is why several of the gifts share names with virtues), but there may be different kinds, and they may not always be equally important. The gifts and beatitudes have a more rigorous linkage, due to the authority and arguments of Augustine, but we also see here that Aquinas thinks there is more than one legitimate way to arrange their correspondences.

This comes up in several cases. One case in which it comes up explicitly is in the discussion of the gift of piety and its relation to the beatitude of meekness (2-2.121.2). There he notes that there are two major kinds of fit you could see between the gifts and the beatitudes. The first is that of order, and Augustine gives that kind of fit -- the ordering of one list corresponds in some way to the ordering of the other. In this conguity, the gift of piety corresponds to the beatitude of meekness. The second is that of the special nature of each, based on the kinds of objects they have in view and the kinds of acts involved with them. In this way of fitting them together, there is still some congruity between the gift of piety and the beatitude of meekness, but there is a much stronger fit between the gift of piety and the beatitudes of hungering and thirsting and of mercy. It gets even more complicated when Aquinas answers an objection by noting that by the second kind of congruity, piety and knowledge will share a beatitude (the beatitude associated with knowledge is mourning).

Thus, Aquinas explicitly accepts Augustine's linear ordering as a legitimate way of viewing the relations between gifts and beatitudes. But he thinks there is also another way in which the gifts and beatitudes are related, by content; and this is not linear, but a matter of greater or lesser similarity

The significance of this is quite considerable. When people talk about Augustine's correspondences, they often say that they fit very well sometimes but sometimes seem a bit strained. But Aquinas can avoid this problem entirely. As he sees it, what Augustine is doing is recognizing that the order of gifts corresponds to the order of beatitudes in important practical ways. This order does not depend on the precise nature of either the gifts or the beatitudes, because it is based on their relations to other gifts and beatitudes. As it happens, in a number of cases the correspondences you get by focusing on order are the same ones you get if you ask which beatitudes have the most in common with which gifts. But they do not need to be. (It is worth noting, though, that even the point at which Aquinas himself recognizes the most divergence, the gift of piety, he still holds that there is some commonality of content between the gift and the beatitude that corresponds to it according to order.)

I suspect a major reason for this, and also a reason for why the Augustinian order, while recognized, does not play a major role in Aquinas's account, is that his interest is less directly practical than Augustine's. Aquinas's discussion is not in any sense a how-to or a map for spiritual progress, and the beatitudes are a secondary matter, however important they may be as secondary matters. The structure of the Secunda Secundae is that of a manual for confessors, although it is more concerned with underlying principles than practical advice in the confessional; this is why it focuses almost entirely on virtues and vices, and fits everything else, including the beatitudes, around them: they need to be there because they concern the ends and effects, but they are not the point of focus. In his approach to the beatitudes, however, Augustine is explicitly interested in how to live according to the complete standard of Christian life. These are very different emphases.

There are other aspects of Aquinas's account of the beatitudes beyond all of this. He shows in general more interest in the relation between the virtues and the gifts, and the beatitudes to some extent come along with the latter. He also accepts various bits of lore about the beatitudes that I haven't looked at. For instance, in various places, he recognizes correspondences, also derived from Augustine, between the beatitudes and the petitions of the Our Father (2-2.83.9 ad 3). But a weakness in the Thomistic corpus is that we have no thorough discussion of the beatitudes: Aquinas discussion of them is either quick and general or scattered throughout his discussion of other things. One has to re-form Aquinas's account in order to see how it all fits together.

Murmurs and Glimpses of Eternity

Outlook
by Archibald Lampman


Not to be conquered by these headlong days,
But to stand free: to keep the mind at brood
On life's deep meaning, nature's altitude
Of loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;
At every thought and deed to clear the haze
Out of our eyes, considering only this,
What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,
This is to live, and win the final praise.

Though strife, ill fortune and harsh human need
Beat down the soul, at moments blind and dumb
With agony; yet, patience—there shall come
Many great voices from life's outer sea,
Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,
Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.