Quote for the Week

If we should classify one by one all those who hate others and injure others, should we find them to be universal in love or partial? Of course we should say they are partial. Now, since partiality against one another is the cause of the major calamities in the empire, then partiality is wrong.

–Mozi, from his eponymous book, Book 4; Universal Love III; courtesy of Wikiquote.

Quote for the Week

If the rulers sincerely desire the empire to be wealthy and dislike to have it poor, desire to have it orderly and dislike to have it chaotic, they should bring about universal love and mutual aid. This is the way of the sage-kings and the way to order for the world, and it should not be neglected.

–Mozi, from his eponymous book, Book 4; Universal Love II; courtesy of Wikiquote.

Quote for the Week

When feudal lords love one another there will be no more war; when heads of houses love one another there will be no more mutual usurpation; when individuals love one another there will be no more mutual injury. When ruler and ruled love each other they will be gracious and loyal; when father and son love each other they will be affectionate and filial; when older and younger brothers love each other they will be harmonious. When all the people in the world love one another, then the strong will not overpower the weak, the many will not oppress the few, the wealthy will not mock the poor, the honoured will not disdain the humble, and the cunning will not deceive the simple. And it is all due to mutual love that calamities, strife, complaints, and hatred are prevented from arising. Therefore the benevolent exalt it.
Book 4; Universal Love II

–Mozi, from his eponymous work; courtesy of Wikiquote.

Quote for the Week

All states in the world, large or small, are cities of Heaven, and all people, young or old, honourable or humble, are its subjects; for they all graze oxen and sheep, feed dogs and pigs, and prepare clean wine and cakes to sacrifice to Heaven. Does this not mean that Heaven claims all and accepts offerings from all? Since Heaven does claim all and accepts offerings from all, what then can make us say that it does not desire men to love and benefit one another? Hence those who love and benefit others Heaven will bless. Those who hate and harm others Heaven will curse, for it is said that he who murders the innocent will be visited by misfortune. How else can we explain the fact that men, murdering each other, will be cursed by Heaven? Thus we are certain that Heaven desires to have men love and benefit one another and abominates to have them hate and harm one another

–Mozi, from his eponymous work, Book 1; On the necessity of standards; courtesy of Wikiquote.

Quote for the Week

Perhaps, the good and the beautiful are the same, and must be investigated by one and the same process; and in like manner the base and the evil. And in the first rank we must place the beautiful, and consider it as the same with the good; from which immediately emanates intellect as beautiful. Next to this, we must consider the soul receiving its beauty from intellect, and every inferior beauty deriving its origin from the forming power of the soul, whether conversant in fair actions and offices, or sciences and arts. Lastly, bodies themselves participate of beauty from the soul, which, as something divine, and a portion of the beautiful itself, renders whatever it supervenes and subdues, beautiful as far as its natural capacity will admit.
Let us, therefore, re-ascend to the good itself, which every soul desires; and in which it can alone find perfect repose. For if anyone shall become acquainted with this source of beauty he will then know what I say, and after what manner he is beautiful. Indeed, whatever is desirable is a kind of good, since to this desire tends. But they alone pursue true good, who rise to intelligible beauty, and so far only tend to good itself; as far as they lay aside the deformed vestments of matter, with which they become connected in their descent. Just as those who penetrate into the holy retreats of sacred mysteries, are first purified and then divest themselves of their garments, until someone by such a process, having dismissed everything foreign from the God, by himself alone, beholds the solitary principle of the universe, sincere, simple and pure, from which all things depend, and to whose transcendent perfections the eyes of all intelligent natures are directed, as the proper cause of being, life and intelligence. With what ardent love, with what strong desire will he who enjoys this transporting vision be inflamed while vehemently affecting to become one with this supreme beauty! For this it is ordained, that he who does not yet perceive him, yet desires him as good, but he who enjoys the vision is enraptured with his beauty, and is equally filled with admiration and delight. Hence, such a one is agitated with a salutary astonishment; is affected with the highest and truest love; derides vehement affections and inferior loves, and despises the beauty which he once approved. Such, too, is the condition of those who, on perceiving the forms of gods or daemons, no longer esteem the fairest of corporeal forms. What, then, must be the condition of that being, who beholds the beautiful itself?

–Plotinus, “An Essay on the Beautiful“, translated by Thomas Taylor; courtesy of Wikiquote.

Philosophical Food for Thought

From this interview (my emphasis in italics) with the philosopher John Gray (h/t Rod Dreher):

So are you denying that it’s a natural human impulse to crave freedom?

Of course not. Otherwise we wouldn’t have the periods of freedom that we’ve had in human history. I’m just saying that it’s not the only human impulse, and rarely is it the most powerful one. You begin to see that when life becomes unsettled, when there are dangers, especially that people cannot understand. It’s then that human beings tend to look at solutions to these problems that typically involve restricting freedoms. In other words: when life gets rough, the need for freedom, or the impulse for freedom, which is real —it’s part of the human constitution you might say— tends very commonly to be eclipsed by other needs. These can simply be for security, or they can be darker needs to bolster up an identity to attack, marginalize, or even exterminate others. These are all classic human responses. The idea that humans are by nature free is one of the most harmful fictions that’s ever been promoted anywhere.

What is your own relationship with religion?

I don’t belong to a religion. In fact I would have to be described as an atheist. But I’m friendly to religion on the grounds that it seems to me to be distinctively human, and it has produced many good things. But you see these humanists or rationalists who seem to hate this distinctively human feature. This to me seems to me very odd. These evangelical atheists say things such as: religion is like child abuse, that if you had no religious education, there would be no religion. It’s completely absurd.

You also say that ‘atheism does not mean rejecting belief in God, but up a belief in language as anything other than practical convenience.’ What are you getting at here?

I was referring to Fritz Mauthner, who wrote a four-volume history of atheism. He was an atheist who thought that theism was an obsessive attachment to the constructions of language: that the idea of God was a kind of linguistic ideal. So that atheism meant not worshipping that ideal. But he took that as just an example of a more general truth: that there is a danger in worshiping the constructions of language. Of course religions like Christianity are partially to blame for this.  But for most of their history, these so called creedal faiths didn’t define themselves by doctrine. Instead they had strong traditions of what’s called Apophatic theology: where you cannot use language to describe God.

Would you call yourself an existentialist? 

No I think that carries too much baggage. I’m a sceptic, but in a positive sense. I don’t mean just standing back from belief, and not having any. But exploring different views of things that have been part of the human world: like the views of the pagan philosophers, with a view to seeing what benefit they can be to us.

Why do you dispute the notion that knowledge is a pacifying force?

Well there is this notion in some intellectual circles that evil is a kind of error: that if you get more knowledge you won’t commit the error. People often say: if we get more knowledge for human psychology won’t that help? No. All knowledge is ambiguous in this way. The Nazis were very good at using their knowledge at mass psychology. Or if you were a Russian revolutionary like Lenin, you might use the knowledge of the causes of inflation to take control of the central bank, create hyper-inflation and bring about your revolutionary project. So knowledge can never eradicate the conflicts of the human world, or produce harmony where there are conflicting goals to start with.  Because knowledge is used by human beings as a tool to achieve whatever it is they want to achieve.

In one part of the book you ask why humans have such a need for meaning. You’re a philosopher: isn’t meaning important for you?

Well knowledge is important. But I’m not sure if finding a true meaning is.  But one of the chief reasons humans need meaning — and I’m only speculating here — is that they are conscious of their own mortality. Even Epicurus said: When we exist death is not, and when death exists we are not. What he was getting at was that we have a different sense of time that other animals don’t have. If we have the idea of our mortality then we see our lives in a different way because we think we see them as a single coherent story.

Quote for the Week

It is now time, leaving every object of sense far behind, to contemplate, by a certain ascent, a beauty of a much higher order; a beauty not visible to the corporeal eye, but alone manifest to the brighter eye of the soul, independent of all corporeal aid. However, since, without some previous perception of beauty it is impossible to express by words the beauties of sense, but we must remain in the state of the blind, so neither can we ever speak of the beauty of offices and sciences, and whatever is allied to these, if deprived of their intimate possession. Thus we shall never be able to tell of virtue’s brightness, unless by looking inward we perceive the fair countenance of justice and temperance, and are convinced that neither the evening nor morning star are half so beautiful and bright. But it is requisite to perceive objects of this kind by that eye by which the soul beholds such real beauties. Besides it is necessary that whoever perceives this species of beauty, should be seized with much greater delight, and more vehement admiration, than any corporeal beauty can excite; as now embracing beauty real and substantial. Such affections, I say, ought to be excited about true beauty, as admiration and sweet astonishment; desire also and love and a pleasant trepidation. For all souls, as I may say, are affected in this manner about invisible objects, but those the most who have the strongest propensity to their love; as it likewise happens about corporeal beauty; for all equally perceive beautiful corporeal forms, yet all are not equally excited, but lovers in the greatest degree.

—Plotinus, ”An Essay on the Beautiful” as translated into English by Thomas Taylor (1917); courtesy Wikiquote.

Universalism (What the Hell?!): Index

Once again, a sub-thread within my “Legends of the Fall” series has taken on a life of its own, to the extent of meriting its own index.  I don’t know how many more will end up here, but there are probably lots to come, either within “Legends of the Fall” or in this series outright.  Have a hell (or heaven, or none of the above) time reading these posts!

Legends of the Fall:  Reflections

Hell, Salafis, Philosophers, and Playing the Odds

Out of the Closet

A Helluva Post on the Rectification of Names

Excursus:  John Scottus Eriugena

To Hell in a Nice Handbasket

Interlude:  Questions, Objections, Issues

An Analysis of Universalism

Defining Terms and a Recap

Universalism, I Presume?

Damnation:  Inside, Outside, Upside Down

Universalism:  Summary (for now)

Ethics, Apes, and Humanism

This article by Salon.com’s Michael Lind is worth a read.  He makes some interesting points about secular humanism in the context of contemporary viewpoints.  I’m not sure that secular humanism as such is quite as vigorous or as much a part of current discourse as Lind seems to imply, actually.  The American Humanist Association is still around, and as Lind notes, they still keep putting out manifestos, etc.; but I’m not sure that anyone is much paying attention.

As a theist, I disagree with the atheism/agnosticism of secular humanism.  On the other hand, most of their goals–tolerance, social justice, etc.–are things I can get behind.  Many famous people whom I’ve admired in my life–Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Steve Allen, and Umberto Eco, to name a few–have been humanists.  The organization is composed of good people with worthy goals, and to the extent that I think about secular humanism at all, I have no beef with them and can only wish them well.

However, from a strictly philosophical and non-religious perspective, I’ve always had trouble respecting the secular humanist system.  Humanists are pretty much explicit on rejecting any transcendent component of reality, any meaning beyond what humans make for themselves.  However, having said that, they want to proceed to make meaning by making it a better world for all people.  Getting rid of superstition and getting all humans to base their lives on reason will eventually result, if not in a Utopia, at least a far better world than we now see.  

To me, this is arbitrary.  Whether transcendent meaning (God, Fate, karma, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, etc.) is necessary to make  human life worthwhile is something that can’t really be demonstrated or refuted.  As I’ve said before, in extensive discussions with John E. and one or two others on other blogs, I’ve concluded that some people just don’t need any meaning beyond what they make in their lives, whereas others require something in the big picture.  I’m not arguing that here.  What I am arguing is that if one rejects transcendent meaning and if one emphasizes the need to make his/her own meaning, then what meaning one makes is totally arbitrary and beyond anyone else’s capacity to judge.

Humanists want to make a better world, which is dandy.  But if there is no meaning beyond the individual and this world here and now, then there is no ultimate reason to say that wanting to make a better world for Aryans is any worse than making a better world for everybody.  Most of us would rightly see that as appalling; but an awful lot of Germans and others had no problem with it in the 30′s and 40′s.  We can all think of many, many horrible ideologies in which large numbers of people found meaning–though it all to often involved snuffing out the meaning of others.  Ultimately debates about whose meaning is better, in such circumstances, turn bloody.

The other bone I have to pick with secular humanism is the same one that Lind elaborates.  Who said humans act out of reason and rationality to begin with?  I know plenty of secularists who never miss the horoscope or are convinced that UFO’s are coming here.  If religion were totally extirpated, I have no reason to believe, based on human nature, that humans would act one whit more rationally for the common good than they do now.  On some level we are indeed still contending chimpanzees.  How ironic that many secular humanists and other unbelievers rightly ridicule those believers who reject evolution because of fundamentalist readings of Scripture, while seeming themselves to believe that man is “little less than the angels”!

All that said, I’m not deriding humanists or their noble motivations.  I’m just saying that on grounds of strict logic, I don’t think their perspective holds up better than anybody else’s.  Even the apes in the movie Planet of the Apes knew that “Ape must not kill ape,”  and were depicted as faithfully adhering to that dictum.  Sadly, we real humans seem to have a long way to go to live up to the ethics of fictional apes!

The Universal vs. the Particular

I have been pondering some ethics-related threads I’ve been following elsewhere, and in the process of so doing I’ve been mulling over an old ethical chestnut.  That is, how general–or generalizable–or, to put it another way, universal–do the tenets of an ethical system have to be?

We have an intuition that the rules we follow are not just arbitrary, but somehow just.  One definition of that would be that they apply to everyone in a similar situation.  For example, the principal’s son shouldn’t get away with something that any other student couldn’t get away with.  If I’m busted for speeding, it ought not to matter that I’m the judge’s cousin.  Murder is wrong for anyone to commit; and so on.

We also have an intuition of extenuating circumstances and specific contexts.  The guy who’s speeding to get his wife or child to the hospital isn’t likely to be judged as harshly (if at all) as someone who just treats the public highways as his own personal drag strip.  In a society with pre-modern technology, women’s participation in some areas of the workforce might be less possible than in modern times.  And so on here, too.

So where is the balance struck?  Do ancients get a pass on slavery because conditions were different then, for example?  Is the attempted destruction of the Canaanites by the Israelites in the Bronze Age different from the attempted destruction of the Jews by the Nazis in the Atomic Age?  Is freedom of religion OK in some societies and not in others?

I think the problem here is that there is a danger of two extremes.  Universal ethics can  become a tyranny of enforcing exact, uniform, unchangeable rules on everyone, regardless of the situation, with no leniency, mercy, or exemptions.  Javert’s attitude to Jean Valjean springs to mind in this case.  Obviously, this is undesirable.  The other extreme is moral relativism, which implies that every society (or perhaps even every individual) is a law unto itself.  Thus, we can’t judge Nazis because their society was their ethical business.  This, too, seems obviously wrong.

I think in a more subtle way this affects discussions of ethics.  One can be so zealous in defending one’s ideals that counterexamples or possible extenuation circumstances are ignored.  There is the feeling that if exceptions are allowed, the whole ethical system collapses.  For example, if I were a vegetarian arguing that meat-eating is always wrong, and someone counters by saying, “What about the Inuit?” I am put in a bind.  The Inuit were marvelously adapted to a diet of nearly 100% meat, even to the extent of deriving essential vitamins that most human populations get from plants by eating seal livers.  They thrived on a diet that would be very bad for most humans, and when modern civilization moved many of them to a more modern Western diet with less meat and far more carbohydrates, the rates of diabetes, heart problems, and other such diseases skyrocketed for them.

Thus, in this hypothetical case, the argument for universality seems doomed.  Thus, the person making the argument might feel threatened–”If meat’s OK for Inuit, then my opponents might ask why it’s not OK for others, too–and then my vegetarianism has no moral basis!”

For the record, I think there is a middle ground between “applies to everyone all the time under all conceivable sets of circumstances” and “whatever floats your boat”.  I’m just not sure there’s a clear set of rules for finding such middle ground, or that there aren’t different ways of getting to it in different situations.  In any case, this is why I’m not too keen on Kant’s Categorical Imperative (I know our Host likes it, but it to me it smacks too much of the aforementioned “applies to everyone all the time under all conceivable sets of circumstances”) or of moral relativism or systems that approach it (they smack too much of the “whatever” view of ethics).

Thoughts?