Saturday, January 30, 2010

Ralph McInerny (1929-2010)

Ralph McInerny died yesterday, age 80. McInerny was a philosopher and novelist (author of the Father Dowling series of mysteries). His most significant philosophical work was probably Aquinas and Analogy. Here are things online that are by McInerny:

At The Catholic Thing
Theology for Dummies
The Chesterbelloc Thing
Noblesse Oblique
Vice and Verse
Implicit Philosophy
You Have Mail
Mammon and Uniquity
A Dickens of a Christmas
No Country for Old Men
One That Got Away
The Happy Fault
The Hazards of Hedonism
Is Obama Worth a Mass?

Present at the Apocalypse
Lingua Franca
Unity vs. Diversity
A House Divided
The Marrying Animal
Don't You Know?
The Dean's Daughter
We Lepers
Otto Bird
Philosophia Perennis
Pascal's Memorial
On the Road to Limerick
Inconclusive Postscript
Sealed with an X
Flourish. Exeunt Omnes.

Aquinas on Divine Omnipotence
Europe: The Mirror of the Future
Natural Law and Human Rights
Saint Thomas Aquinas
Ralph McInerny on a Forgotten Thomist (interview about Charles De Koninck)
What Went Wrong with Vatican II, Chapter One
A History of Western Philosophy
The Writing Life
Why the Burden of Proof is on the Atheist
The Greene-ing of America

A Conversation with Ralph McInerny

Introducing the International Catholic University
Introduction to Thomas Aquinas
Medieval Philosophy: Thomas Aquinas
Metaphysics and Fides et Ratio
Introduction to Moral Philosophy 1
Introduction to Moral Philosophy 2
Introduction to Moral Philosophy 3
Introduction to Moral Philosophy 4
Introduction to Moral Philosophy 5
Ancient Philosophy
Newman and Kierkegaard

Friday, January 29, 2010

Friday Ipod Random Ten

I've seen these around the blogosphere for years and never done one, so here it is, a random ten from the iPod today:

(1) Carly Simon: Let the River Run
(2) Screamin' Jay Hawkins: I Put a Spell on You
(3) Johnny Cash: God's Gonna Cut You Down
(4) Loituma: Ievan Polkka
(5) The Doors: People are Strange
(6) Suvi Terasniska: Hento Kuiskaus
(7) Johanna Kurkela: Varpunen Jouluaamuna
(8) Sufjan Stevens: Wolverine
(9) Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds: Mercy Seat
(10) Dolly Parton: Jolene

"Varpunen Jouluaamuna" is a little Finnish Christmas carol about a sparrow lost in the snow; a little girl offers him a seed because it is Christmas. The sparrow flies to her, taking the seed, saying that God will reward her. And in the last stanza the sparrow turns out to be the soul of her brother: her generosity even to a poor and homeless sparrow brought her in contact with a long lost loved one. You can hear Johanna Kurkela sing it here.

Like Mother-Tongue

The Poet - a Fragment
by John Keats

Where's the Poet? show him! show him,
Muses nine! that I may know him!
'Tis the man who with a man
Is an equal, be he King,
Or poorest of the beggar-clan,
Or any other wondrous thing
A man may be 'twixt ape and Plato;
'Tis the man who with a bird,
Wren or Eagle, finds his way to
All its instincts; he hath heard
The Lion's roaring, and can tell
What his horny throat expresseth,
And to him the Tiger's yell
Comes articulate and presseth
On his ear like mother-tongue.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas

The material sun sheds its light outside us; but the intelligible Sun, Who is God, shines within us. Hence the natural light bestowed upon the soul is God's enlightenment, whereby we are enlightened to see what pertains to natural knowledge; and for this there is required no further knowledge, but only for such things as surpass natural knowledge.

ST I-IIae.109.1 ad 2

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Is-Ought Muddles

There has recently been some discussion in the blogosphere relevant to the is-ought problem, in particular at "Rationally Speaking":

Hume's Guillotine

On Morality, a Response to Julia

Chris Schoen also had some comments:


Horse's Mouths

One of the problems with thinking through this subject is that it is dominated by the slogan that you can't get an 'ought' from an 'is'; and the problem with doing philosophy by slogans is that slogans pick up baggage over time. This is especially true here. I've argued that Hume's argument on this point is usually taken out of its original context, which is an attack on moral rationalism, and I've also argued that Hume is right to think this is a problem for rationalists although not for sentimentalists like himself. But whenever I argue this, whether here or elsewhere, I find that I am suddenly involved not in one argument but in half a dozen, and this is because when people say that you can't get an 'ought' from an 'is', they can mean half a dozen completely different things. Strictly speaking, the original slogan was about relations: you can't get an 'ought' relation from an 'is' relation. This problem can be evaded by denying the rationalist claim that 'ought' is a relation; and this is precisely why Hume's moral theory is not endangered by his own argument. However, if you take it out of context and interpret only vaguely some of the phrases in Hume's actual argument, it becomes tempting to use the same slogan to claim that you can't deduce an 'ought' statement from an 'is' statement. Taken at face value this is thoroughly and obviously false, since any 'ought' statement can be reformulated as an 'is' statement. For instance, I can formulate 'We ought to give to the poor' as, quite trivially, 'We are such that we ought to give to the poor'. The second is an 'is' statement; and from it you can derive the 'ought' statement. So when people can't seriously mean the Statement interpretation; that would make it a logical problem, and a purely artificial logical problem based on a complete confusion, at that. People do, in fact, sometimes talk as if it were a logical problem; but obviously if there is a problem relating 'ought' and 'is', however those are understood, it must be due to some features of our substantive account of what they are, not a mere matter of logic. And there are plenty of things that make this obvious; it is simply not reasonable to claim that medical science has nothing to say about what you ought to do in order to be happy, or that physics has nothing to say about what you ought to do in order to go to the moon.

So we could perhaps set the Statement interpretation aside; people often talk as if it were the interpretation they meant, but if it were this would merely be a sign that they are logically confused. What people usually try to do is to take a dyad and deny that either member of the dyad is reducible to the other. There are several interpretations of this sort, but the most common is Fact-Value, when people say "ought and is" what they usually mean is "fact and value". They mean you can't get values from facts. Now, this is very ambiguous. It could mean that from facts it is impossible to tell whether something is valued. Taken this way it is obviously false (if something is valued by someone, that is a fact), but astonishingly you can find people who talk as if this were what they meant. But we can perhaps set this Literalistic Fact-Value interpretation aside as merely suggested by verbal sloppiness rather than real intent. More interesting as an interpretation, and probably what most people who talk about the opposition of Fact and Value are actually groping toward, is the claim that your recognizing something as fact does not guarantee that it is a value for you. Finally we hit something plausible. Whether it is right, however, depends crucially on how you classify things as Facts or Values.

There is a further problem with the term 'value' itself, which can mean either 'the property of a thing that is the reason a thing is valued' or 'things valued'. Happy puppies are things that most of us value, but we value them because they are cute, cuddly, lovey-dovey, and so forth. People genuinely value their children; they value them for many reasons: parental love, reciprocation of filial love, and so forth. But there are plenty of facts about both of these things, and recognizing some of these things may well guarantee that it is a value for you. A similar problem arises with 'fact'. A happy puppy or a child is not a fact; it's a thing about which factual statements may be true or false, but facts are not things, and have a propositional character. Rain is not a fact, but it may be a fact that it is raining. Dogs are not facts, but it may be a fact that they are chasing you. Or, if we are using the term in such a way that we can use it of both, we are introducing yet another ambiguity into this ever-increasing swampy muddle that is the 'is-ought problem'.

So some people generalize it. The problem is not Second Person but First Person Plural: there is no fact such that it guarantees that something ought to be a value for all of us. This has the advantage of getting us back to oughts, and thus of not involving any sort of lie when someone says that the problem is due to the 'oughts'. But, again, this simply depends on how you are classifying facts and values; and the same issue recurs again. It also shows what we should have already known: 'oughts' and 'values' are different things. Even putting the problem in this First Person Plural way requires recognizing that they are not the same; otherwise we are committing ourselves to an infinite regress. Why can't we get values from facts? Because it is a fact that no fact requires that values be valued. And why is that? Because it is a fact that it is a fact that no fact requires that valuing values be valued. This is thoroughly absurd. So 'ought' and 'value' are not the same thing, and should not be treated as if they were.

Problems like these will, in fact, arise at any level, because both facts and values are purely derivative; neither of them is the primitive it is treated as being. The reason these two, 'fact' and 'value', became attached to the is-ought slogan was due to logical positivism, which attempted to put forward a purely emotive theory of morals that would sharply distinguish morals from sciences and both from mere nonsense. The problem is that there are plenty of facts about emotions, from at least some of which you would have to be able to derive some moral statements if the emotivist theory were true. Logical positivism, here as elsewhere, was never able to make itself self-consistent. But very few people are tempted by logical positivism these days. Why do we find people still proceeding as if the logical positivists were right on this point, when they weren't even coherent, and almost nobody is a logical positivist, anyway?

There is reason to think that no interpretation of the problem (beyond Hume's original and narrow Relation interpretation) can be rationally sustained, or is even coherent. James Chastek once joked that we can't derive an 'ought' from an 'is'; therefore we ought not to try. The joke, of course, which apparently would be entirely lost on some people, is that the statement is self-refuting: it can only be true if one can derive an 'ought' from an 'is'. But it is hardly plausible that someone claiming that we can't derive an 'ought' from an 'is' is claiming that this has no ramifications for how we ought to reason, no matter how the 'is' and 'ought' are interpreted. Something suspicious is afoot. If 'ought' cannot be derived from an 'is', and this is a fact, then we can't derive from it any conclusion about whether we ought to try deriving an 'ought' from an 'is', nor about whether we ought to act as if we could. This is absurd. But if we mean instead that 'ought' ought not to be derived from an 'is' (whether it can be or not) then it becomes difficult to understand why anyone would believe this at all.

When we throw away the slogan and look at the actual problems people are addressing when they raise it, we find that a common problem, the one raised in the "Rationally Speaking" exchange above, is the question of whether "it is possible to use scientific facts to justify selecting one particular set" of moral principles. This is more interesting than anything involving the slogan, and it simply doesn't need the slogan. And it shows what the real problem is. It is how what is (and only that to the extent that scientific inquiry considers what is) relates to what is good. We know -- or we do if we don't confuse ourselves with incoherent slogans about ought and is or fact and value -- that standard scientific practices can genuinely inform us about some goods: health, for instance. It does not follow from this that there is nothing to be known about such goods except what standard scientific practices can determine. Even if it did, it would not directly follow that there are no goods beyond those about which standard scientific practices can give us complete information. For instance, medical science can inform you about what constitutes this real and genuine good, a healthy body, and what you ought to do to get it. It does not directly follow from this that medical science, or even any more fundamental or extensive natural science, can tell you that a healthy body is a better good than, say, the production of beautiful art. Rimbaud, in order to write better poetry, deliberately deranged his senses, and seriously endangered his health, with drugs and alcohol and crazy living. Is there any experiment that can be made, or measurement that can be taken, or mathematical theory that can be tested, that would prove that this was, overall, a good or bad thing to do? If there is, it certainly can't be assumed on the basis of the fact that scientific inquiry can shed light on goods like health and human taste for beautiful language. The one does not require the other.

The fact of the matter is that we have good reason to think that scientific inquiry of the sort we find in physics, chemistry, and biology can only shed a limited light on the goods that can be and are considered in human reasoning, and in anything like their current forms they can only shed a limited light on a limited number of these goods. The first follows from the fact that standard scientific practices require an immense amount of abstraction from details, but details, sometimes weird details, are clearly relevant to the proper understanding of some goods, for instance, those that we especially love, like children and spouses and friends. Not only that, but details are relevant to how these goods relate to other goods. Practical reason, unlike theoretical reason, has to deal directly with the actual circumstances of particular cases. And the second is seen easily enough in the fact that trying to solve serious ethical problems using only currently known facts from physics, chemistry, and biology, is thoroughly futile -- we inevitably make assumptions going beyond these facts. It is one thing to argue that physics, chemistry, and biology can help us a bit in narrowing down which moral principles, out of all possible candidates, are right. This is a fairly modest claim, and has much to be said for it. It is another thing to suggest that we can narrow the candidates down to one solely on the basis of physics, chemistry, and biology; we obviously cannot do this with the physics, chemistry, and biology we have now, and it is irrational to make claims about the world solely on the basis of what you imagine science will somehow discover at some point in the future. We'd need a very substantive argument for something like this; and substantive argument is precisely what we never find, just definition and fiat.

So when all the muddles are taken away, and all the absurdities are thrown out, we are left with a very modest position, that science can shed some light on the moral life. There is good reason, contrary to the thrust of the slogans, to think that is true; and there is good reason, contrary to some others, to think that the 'some' should be emphasized. The speculative mean is sometimes as golden as the ethical one.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Three Poem Drafts

All very rough.

Kalaratri in the Starlight

Come now, come now, said the woman's smile
as she leaned on the wooden fence,
come now, come now, said the woman's voice
with the coaxing that never relents.
And she looked me all over with sparkling eye
and she blushed and she smiled once more,
and she flirted at me with lash and with glance
and with form that held good things in store.

My love is another's, I quietly said,
and though your deep eyes are bright,
and though you reach up with a willow-tree grace,
I am for another by right.

And she smiled again and with softest of purrs
she replied that true love left no choice,
for when true lovers meet under full moon
the fates speak in inexorable voice
of destinies laid from the first of the world
that cannot be turned or undone,
and when she loved a man, that loving was sure,
and she loved, and I was the one.

But a bright, lovely girl awaits me, I know,
hopes to see me in clear morning light,
and how can a man seek honor and truth
who dallies with strangers at night?

Ah, said the lady, as she quickly drew near
and I felt the brush of the warmth of her breath,
but these frail mundane loves are but passing sighs;
I speak true, or my name is not Death.
Then she trickled her finger down the bridge of my nose,
took my pale face in her hands,
and she smiled then at me under the stars
and kissed me as I fell to the sand.


Our hearts were beating in the dusky silence.
Your great dark eyes with a touch of velvet
stroked my face and carressed my soul;
the night grew warm as the air grew cold,
and all the colors of this fragile world,
reds and greens with yellows curled,
were drowned by force like tides that roll,
were washed away in a rush of gold.
The gold in turn was drained away
to some dark shade of yesterday
and our hearts still beat in the shadowed silence
as the world was steeped in a sea of violet.


I have wallked the road of envy;
the darkness in that wood
grows tangled all around you
to choke out every good.
That jungle knows no reason
as it twists each thought with sin--
rather burn the hall of concert
than play second violin--
and hatred of one's neighbor
for good they have that you do not
becomes hatred of that very good
for not being where you sought,
and to spite another's vision
you pluck out your seeing eye
and in your heart's rich fallow
hell takes root, and lie.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Links and Notes

* In Boston a cat was recently summoned to jury duty -- by accident, of course. I think some people might be offended at the idea that a jury of their peers could include someone's pet cat, but others might like it.

* Garet Garrett on Belloc's The Servile State

* John Farrell interviews J. Scott Turner about his recent book, The Tinkerer's Apprentice.

* Jim S. reviews Mijuskovic's The Achilles of Rationalist Arguments.

* Here and there people leave links in my comment boxes. Usually they aren't interesting, but someone recently left a link to an article by Ken Hamrick arguing against Turretin's argument against traducianism. There are some key points at which I disagree, and if I ever have time again this term I might discuss some things about it; but it is a genuinely interesting discussion.

* Alex Roman's The Third & the Seventh is really quite amazing: 12 minutes of CGI, most of which looks vividly real.

* Many, many people have been laughing at this paper by Cass Sunstein and Adrian Vermeule arguing that the government should debunk conspiracy theories about government by "cognitive infiltration designed to break up the crippled epistemology of conspiracy-minded groups and informationally isolated social networks." As Jesse Walker sarcastically says, "It's a peculiar worldview that thinks even skepticism needs to be centrally planned." And there are indeed some odd features to the argument. For instance, Sunstein and Vermeule never properly consider the possibility that there might be a third alternative between debunking a conspiracy theory and ignoring it, and thus they seem repeatedly to conflate 'minimizing the social harm of conspiracy theories' with 'directly debunking conspiracy theories'. Likewise (related to Walker's point) they never seriously consider whether government is the most efficient agent for diversifying the information-sources of conspiracy theorists, nor do they tell us what mechanisms could be put into place that would allow the government to do this while at the same time letting us keep track of it enough to make sure that this approach didn't become subverted to propagandistic ends.


* With regard to the recent Supreme Court decision on the right to free speech for corporations, I think it was disappointing (I think Lee is in the ballpark on expressing why), although this was probably inevitable given the massive broadening of what counts as 'speech' in the past few decades. I have seen a number of bloggers criticize it, largely incompetently, since their particular arguments against free speech for corporations would generally problematize freedom of press or freedom of religion if actually taken seriously. If you want to see someone making this argument the right way, see Paul Gowder.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Philosophy in Stone

The post on flying buttresses at "Ghulf Genes" has had me thinking of architecture as philosophical metaphor. Erwin Panofsky has a famous and beautiful little book called Gothic Architecture and Scholasticism in which he argues that Gothic architecture developed from the same underlying processes of thought that scholasticism did, in such a way that you can even find analogies to habits of scholastic disputation in the development of typical Gothic forms and devices. And Whewell's comment on Gothic architects, quoted in the previous post, says little about them that could not also be said about the great scholastic philosophers of the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. They too inherited a legacy that was patchwork and confused; they too exhibited their philosophical genius in the search to find the principles unifying this complex background; they too "restored the reign of order" to an intellectual chaos; if it is taken metaphorically, they too can be said to have to accomplished this by focusing on the vertical; and few things characterize the rise of scholastic philosophy in the medieval university so well as saying that it involved "the formation of connexion; the establishment of arrangements which were fertile in beautiful and convenient combinations; reformation; selection of the good, rejection of the mere customary". What is an intellect, on the medieval view, but a city plot in which to build not just ordinary buildings but spiritual cathedrals?

One wonders if the strength and forcefulness of these analogies -- which increases rather decreases when one gets to details -- is a happy accident of history or if it's just an especially developed instance of an analogy or metaphor that might be developed in a looser way across the board. And if the latter, what features of our architecture might be correlated to features of our dominant philosophical approaches? What metaphor might our distinctive forms of architecture, things like skyscrapers and outlet malls, suggest for our philosophers? But as architectural monuments skyscrapers are tall and outlet malls are broad; they pale in importance and ubiquity beside the most distinctive and universal feature of modern architecture. And there is perhaps a metaphor there. For it has becomes fashionable in certain philosophical circles to say that one prefers desert landscapes in intellectual life. But it's clear enough that such people would be horrified by any intellectual system so baroque and bizarre as can be found in a real desert landscape, where extremes meet to create the weird, the dangerous, and the elaborately complex. Perhaps what they really mean is that they like the convenience and beauty of a parking lot.