Archives for posts with tag: philosophy

Of course, the only reasonable way to measure science would be scientifically; that is to say, objectively. So how do we measure science scientifically? Well, by subtracting all value, science could only be measured quantitatively. We know x about the universe, we know how to do y, and we know how z happens, and we add those up and that is the measure of science. Science is really just a series of notches on humanity’s belt. Unfortunately for science, even this measure is flawed because scientific data tends to be paradigmatic and something we learned today could very well be considered false tomorrow. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing as recognizing science’s fallibility is often celebrate by the scientifically minded, but since valuing fallibility is a value, it can’t be taken into account by our measure of science and must be discarded. The scientific measure of science ends up being mostly disappointing.

Luckily, we don’t measure science scientifically. I don’t think many people would equate the invention of the printing press with the invention of the slinky, as a quantitative approach would mandate. Collectively, we tend to value the spread of information more than we do the warped physics of spirals and staircases. We value penicillin because we happen to enjoy being alive. We value the observation of space because we tend to be a very curious species about the universe surrounding us. We value sliced bread because doing the slicing ourselves is always just such a mess. We aren’t looking for the cure for cancer because we think it would be a neat little factoid, we are looking for a cure for cancer because we value not dying from cancer. Obviously each person’s values will be different and people will value some scientific discoveries higher than others, that is just the subjective nature of individuality. In the end though, we measure science by our cultural values, and then somewhat ironically celebrate science for abstaining from participating in those same cultural values. So it’s a curiosity to me that we tend to ignore the measure of the process with which we measure everything else.

Today we live in something that I heard one time and loved: the Christian hangover. What this means is that Christianity in the West was kind of a big deal right up until God died, and then we mostly forgot about it. However, parts of it carried on and we’re using a bit of the hair of the dog to tide us over. What this means for our value system is that the old Christian values still remain without any of the God backing them up. We still consider murder and stealing bad, for example, but the reason nobody questions why is because we still assume the absolutist nature of morality that is associated with Christian belief, even though the ‘why’ is gone.

So why is murdering somebody a bad thing? Maybe people get as far as that we shouldn’t harm others, but then you have to ask further questions like, what constitutes harm? and WHY shouldn’t we harm others? Do we adopt the social contract model where I won’t harm you so you don’t harm me? Do we consider this self-interested approach a valid basis for morality?

Unfortunately, by not asking these questions, or by tacitly ignoring those who do, our baser nature has seeped into our cultural values and infected them. We celebrate greed and selfishness by declaring the ultimate goal of individuals in society to be succeeding financially at any cost. We’re taught not to go into the arts, but into something that will get us a job. To compete with our peers rather than cooperate with them. Our science reflects these values and most scientific development centres around product enhancement and resource extraction, or ultimately just something to eventually sell. We sacrifice our passions so that we can live according to values begotten by an amnesia of how we got to this point in the first place.

I don’t mean to suggest that during the Christian era there was a mightier moral fibre, but that there was a guideline (created by a grassroots organization, mind you) against which things could be effectively measured. Today, with that guideline gone, we’ve essentially allowed the dominant power group to define the new set of guidelines against which everything is to be measured. Unfortunately, we are too blinded by our scientific mindset which alienates moral questioning with its dismissal of values to efficiently retaliate for a more effective cultural value system.

I don’t plan on proselytizing my own value system to replace the current one (in this blog, anyway), I merely want to illuminate what I perceive to be a fatal flaw in the scientific worldview: namely its avoidance of values and the consequences that follow from that.

Peter Worley is an educator keen on teaching philosophy to youngsters. One of his teaching methods is to gather together objects to create a humanoid shape, and ask his students how many things there are. You can listen to a podcast of him doing exactly this here:
https://philosophynow.org/podcasts/Primary_School_Philosophy

Now, to prove I’m smarter than a 10 year old, which my cripplingly low self-esteem demands that I do, I will offer my humble outcomes on how this thought experiment plays out.

So here is our object(s?):

Isn't it lovely? This took me two minutes and a small chance of copyright infringement to make.

Isn’t it lovely? This took me two minutes and a small chance of copyright infringement to make.

So how many things? I think most people’s gut reaction will be that there are six things, each meticulously stolen from a Google Image search. Four pencils, plus a book, plus a ball equals six things. But if you’re going to break something down into its parts, you have to realize that each pencil is going to be made up of wood, lead, paint, and whatever the hell eraser is made out of. The ball will have air, plastic, and other… ball parts, I guess. I don’t know what’s in a ball; cut me some slack. And so on with the book.

Of course, you’ll have to go further and further until you reach the atomic scale, because stopping at the materials level would simply be arbitrary. Now you’re counting neutrons, electrons, and protons, and you might as well just say fuck it and announce that there are an infinite number of things, because nobody is counting that bullshit.

Now perhaps there was a keener among you that said there are only three things. There are pencils, a book, and a ball. That makes three. Aren’t you sharp. These would be the Platonic Forms. Plato suggested that behind our perceived reality is an actual reality, and this actual reality has Forms that our perceived reality would just be variations of. So if you want to know about “pencils”, for instance, you have to study the Form of pencils, and then you can deduce on our perceptions of them. We all have an Idea as to what a pencil is, and then our perception of pencils would just be variations on that.

Unfortunately for Plato, I disagree with his theory. There are infinite variations on things, to the point where trying to define something’s “Form” becomes impossible. We project the idea of “pencil” out into the universe; there is no objective universe projecting the Form of a pencil into us.

So it’s not three. Sorry, keeners.

Maybe there were a few of you who took pity on my Clipart concoction and said, you know what? That thing is humanoid enough, I’ll say that it’s one thing. Bless you, kind sir or madam. Of course, if you claim my clearly multi-object’ed object is one, then you’ll have to say that its surroundings are one as well because we’ve already established that the Platonic Forms are nonsense. The table it would be sitting on in a non-digital example of this experiment would be part of it, as well as the floor. If this abomination of a humanoid shape is one, then the whole universe is one. Congratulations, you’re a Buddhist.

Lastly, there could be two things. The object, and the subject. Whatever is out there that I’m looking at, and the I that is doing the looking. There is something that is me that is separate from whatever is outside of me. That would be two.

So when asked, “How many things are there?” You can answer one, two, or infinite. What do each of these answers mean? Maybe you should read a philosophy book and find out, you scrub.

“When you come to think of it,  almost all human behaviour and activity is not essentially any different from animal behaviour. The most advanced technologies and craftsmanship bring us, at best, up to the super-chimpanzee level. Actually, the gap between, say, Plato or Nietzsche and the average human is greater than the gap between that chimpanzee and the average human. The realm of the real spirit, the true artist, the saint, the philosopher, is rarely achieved. Why so few? Why is world history and evolution not stories of progress, but rather this endless and futile addition of zeros? No greater values have developed. Hell, the Greeks 3000 years ago were just as advanced as we are. So what are these barriers that keep people from reaching anywhere near their real potential? The answer to that can be found in another question and that’s this: which is the most universal human characteristic? Fear or laziness?”

This is a quotation from the film Waking Life, and to me, it really explores what it means to be human. All these aspects of human life that we do in our day to day lives, even in our most exceptional days, can often be found in the animal kingdom. The film goes further in its observations of the relationship between our daily existence and the so-called lesser evolved beings:

“Excuse me.

‘Cuse me.

Hey, could we do that again? I know we haven’t met, but I don’t want to be an ant. I mean, it’s like we go through life with our antenna’s bouncing off one another, continuously on ant autopilot with nothing really human required of us. Stop. Go. Walk here. Drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in an efficient, polite manner. “Here’s your change.” “Paper or plastic?” “Credit or debit?” “Want ketchup with that?” I don’t want a straw; I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to be an ant, you know?”

What it means to be human: our creativity, our intellect, our imagination, these are what separate us. For the most part, we do live our lives as an ant, with the good days being the ones where we get move slightly up the evolutionary ladder to sun ourselves on a rock like a lizard. The first quotation is actually somewhat optimistic because it assumes that all of us possess the same capacity to achieve human-level greatness, with only mental barriers keeping us from pursuing them. A more pessimistic outlook would be to assume that human beings simply aren’t as developed as we believe ourselves to be, save for the few aberrations that launch new cultural, social, and scientific paradigms who drive us forward.

Which is it? Are we lazy and afraid? Do we all have the drive to think, to create, to explore, but we don’t because we worry others might think it’s stupid? Or that no one will care? Or that we just can’t be bothered? Or do we just simply not have the capacity, and so we live our lives as bestial creatures content with mediocrity because that’s all we’re capable of? I don’t have the answer because I haven’t quite resolved the conflict between my cynicism and idealism just yet.

I don’t mean to suggest that our animal nature is inherently abhorrent. Some of our finer instincts are our more primal ones. But I think we need to prove our superiority; we need to justify our dominance over the planet. What I’m hoping for is that people will genuinely make the effort to explore their distinctive humanity and express that humanity, because fear and laziness are not an excuse to avoid the duty of our species.