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Sunday, June 30, 2024

Core Beliefs 




Important aspects of philosophy and theology - both in academics and in people's everyday lives - seem to have a common logical structure: namely, assume something as axiomatic and then deal with the apparent contradictions between that axiom and the world as we experience it as well as other other conceptual truths or axioms. For example, the axion "God is absolutely Good" presents an apparent contradiction to the idea of Hell (apparent conceptual contradiction) and to the evil we experience on earth, both natural evils like death and our own tendency to do evil to each other and the world. A lot of theology is an attempt to explain this seeming contradiction away.    

In philosophy, an axiom like "Universals are just names we conventionally apply to the natural world for purely pragmatic reasons" seems to contradict science, for example when biology identifies really existing species (universals) through genetic analysis and in general contradicts our common sense understanding of the world (i.e. that there are kinds of things). 

. . .

The problem of evil in Christian theology can be formulated as a dichotomy:

"If evil exists, then either God is not omnipotent, or God is not perfectly good."

The facts of evil and suffering is hard to reconcile with both axioms: God is omnipotent and God is good. It suggests that if God is omnipotent (all-powerful), He would have the ability to prevent evil. If God is perfectly good (omnibenevolent), He would desire to prevent evil.

And I wonder whether there is any practical difference between Gnostic dualism and the idea of the world as darkness because of sin. Seems like the latter just gets God off the hook and explains the potential contradiction between a good Creator and an evil world. Both agree the world is evil. Lewis uses in some book the metaphor that being alive on earth is like being behind enemy lines in a war. The world, the Creation has been occupied by Satan. Both Gnosticism and Christianity thus strive for a release of the soul from the material world.

   For this very reason the prime heresy combated by the early Church, culminating in Augustine, was Gnosticism, or Manicheanism – any conviction that there are two incommensurable realms of being: material and spiritual. God, who is goodness itself, created the spiritual realm; the Devil or some evil spirit created the material world as a mimicry or corruption of the latter. Our souls are imprisoned in this material world in our material bodies, which are evil. We ensnare other souls through sex, which is evil. There is an eternal war between these two camps.

No Christian could except this view because it denies God’s omnipotence, denies that God created the material world, denies that God is the source of all being. But it does preserve God’s goodness. If we want to good his omnipotence too, then we have to say the material world was created by God. So the evil cannot be God’s fault. It’s ours. We brought sickness, death, floods, draughts, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes – all such evils into the world by freely choosing to disobey God. That we were, in some readings, seduced by a dark angel who did the same, is no excuse.

    Moreover, the injustice and other evils we inflict on each other is because our originally good nature (including our reason) ‘fell’ into something very much like nature as understood by the dualist heresies. Like them Christianity – in one of its understandings – sees the body as corrupted by the Fall as a prison of the soul; sees human life on earth as something to be left behind for Paradise in the afterlife (spiritual of course). But that conflicts with another axiomatic proposition: Through Jesus nature is redeemed, and a whole new need to reconcile and justify axioms opens up. And indeed the very meaning of concepts like ‘omnipotence,’ ‘goodness,’ and ‘redeemed’ creates radical vagueness and ambiguity at the heart of the ‘system’ that theology spins out. 

   And it keeps on until at some points it hardens and becomes ‘dogma’ enforced by some organization, or until the largely ad hoc attempts to reconcile the different axioms among themselves and the axioms with life experience that cannot be sanely denies blows itself out like a tornado (i.e. it ceases to be able to make sense of people’s lives).

  And this whole process – which can absorb reflective people while they are in it – seems to have some analogy to what Popper called a ‘pseudo-science’ or what we think of today as a ‘conspiracy theory.’ [There are essential differences, too.] Theological systems – systems because everything follows from axioms – seem logically resistant to refutation. Experience may test a theology or seeming contradictions between axioms may surface under the pressure of life (of thought), but unlike scientific theories that strive for falsifiability and empirical verification – at least as we imagine them – theology can be structured in ways that allow for continual qualification and reinterpretation in response to challenges. This flexibility enables theological discourse to maintain a fragile semblance of internal coherence. But the process never stops unless thinking stops, which is to say, unless some power just stipulates a certain phase of the process as ‘dogma’ and enforces it. The ability to qualify theological arguments through repeated adjustments serves to protect core beliefs from outright falsification, fostering at best theological dialogue and interpretation within diverse religious traditions – which is interminable unless stopped by decree or mind-death.

And the same structure applies to philosophy.


 

 

 


Thursday, June 27, 2024

 More Reflections on The Great Divide (i.e. between a focus on the ends and purposes of things and goodness as an expression of love)


                                        from the movie version of The Road by Cormac McCarthy
                                                               (but just read the book)







The Good as unconditional (or absolute, sui generis) cannot appear as long as ‘being good’ is a means to some reward – to go to Heaven, to allow the soul to exist in the spiritual realm of pure Ideas, etc. There is a conceptual connection between doing something just because it is good or ‘being claimed in response’ by some aspect of reality – doing good for your children, trying to become wiser, not taking money to throw a basketball game – and not having any reward external to that.

    If as children we are taught to ‘be good’ for the sake of the toys Santa brings to ‘good children,’ then we are not really being taught to love the Good but the toys. And the ‘good’ behavior is at bottom only a means to the end of getting the toys. If we could get them by lying and cheating, then we would lie and cheat, if getting the toys was what really mattered.

  If we are taught that we have to believe certain things, participate in practices like going to church, praying, and giving to the poor, and live in a certain way (loving your neighbor as yourself, forgiving and praying for enemies, etc.) in order to be rewarded with Heaven and to avoid the imaginable horror of eternal punishment in Hell, then again this way of living is at bottom only a means to the end of getting to Heaven and avoiding the worst possible fate in Hell. If Heaven and Hell are real, and if fulfilling these requirements are the only way into Heaven, the only way to keep away from Hell, then the prudent man will fulfill these requirements. They are the means to the only ends that matter. If people do not fulfill these requirements, it is because they do not believe in the reality of Heaven and Hell. It’s like a factual question: if you believe Hell is real, live this way; if you don’t believe Hell is real, you are free to live some other way. What is real determines how to live.

 

   What if the universe is like this. There is no Heaven, Hell, or God. Reality is ruthless competition and consumption. Stronger beings seek to dominate and absorb weaker ones: a predatory, zero-sum view of existence. Beings are fundamentally isolated, with disconnection and self-interest reigning supreme. To law is to gain power and control, where worth is measured by the extent of one's dominance, and any semblance of community is merely a facade for underlying self-interest. Materialism and reductionism a true descriptions of this reality.  There are no deeper spiritual dimensions. All existence is reduced to physical processes and material interactions. It follows that the person who accepted this description as factual would be cynical and nihilistic, mocking human ideals and virtues as naive or foolish, and suggesting that the universe lacks ultimate meaning or purpose beyond the pursuit of self-gain. Love would be the weakness or delusion of an unhealthy self. Acts of kindness or selflessness are viewed with suspicion, believed to mask ulterior motives. The universe is seen as a place of chaos and disorder, with constant struggle and instability rather than harmony or peace.

    Imagine through some freak accident of nature we can understand all this and even take up an attitude toward it: we can accept it, hate it, relish it, or reject it. We can wish we had never been born into such a soulless system. We can choose to conform our minds and hearts to this reality and live as did Stalin or Mao, say. But we can reject reality, deny it. To love humanity, to take the Good Samaritan as a model, to feel compassion would be contrary to reality. It would be to reject the world as it is and imagine it as it should be. But there would be no external reward, no Heaven to go to. No communism to build. We would be crushed by reality. In this picture we can see the roots of the idea of The Good, of the Good as unconditional, absolute. To love it is a means to no end outside the love of it. Such a love would be pure so to speak. Here the soul does not love for the sake of the toys or 99 virgins – or for anything. That is love on a different plane. In this dark universe, it would be like a leak from another world. (Very Gnostic, this world version.)

   A few years ago I read Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Perhaps the darkest, most unsettling thing I have ever read. An apocalypse has occurred. Humanity has little or no chance of survival. A father and son embark on a perilous journey to reach the coast in search of safety and a better life without knowing whether things are any less horrible there. the father and son encounter cannibalism, as some survivors resort to extreme measures to stay alive in a world where the earth is no longer capable of sustaining life. The novel portrays a bleak and desolate landscape, where ash covers the ground, and the remnants of civilization are reduced to rubble. Despite the overwhelming despair and devastation, the father's unwavering love and hope for his child testifies to the Good and the enduring power of love and virtue in the face of the end of all things. No rewards in this nightmare.

 

. . .

 

In the teachings of Jesus, the Good (as unconditional) is directly tied to its source in love (including compassion). The love of one’s fellow man transcends all worldly contingencies like ethnic group, language, character, sex, age, wealth, or status. The Good Samaritan sees a fellow human being in need and helps, period. The Father embraces the prodigal son because he returned to him, period. Jesus forgave and protected the adulteress from the mob that wanted to stone her, period. You pray and help those in need not so others will see you or for any other reason than love: ‘let not the left hand know what the right is doing.’ Or is love the only reason? Here is the full passage:

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you (Matthew 6:3-4).

This seems confusing. Help the needy because they are your fellow creatures and you are bound to them in love. Don’t do it to impress other human beings. Don’t even do it to get brownie points with God. And if you can do that, you get rewarded by the Father. It’s for the toys after all in the end, but to be worthy of the toys you can’t do it for the toys. Jesus, who seems to preach the Good as revealed by love, constantly talks about God rewarding and punishing, especially punishing. Hell is very real for Jesus: he describes it as an unquenchable fire (Mark 9:43), where the worm does not die (Mark 9:48), where people will gnash their teeth in anguish and regret (Matt. 13:42), and from which there is no return, even to warn loved ones (Luke 16:19–31). He calls hell a place of “outer darkness” (Matt. 25:30), comparing it to “Gehenna” (Matt. 10:28), which was a trash dump outside the walls of Jerusalem where rubbish was burned and maggots abounded.

   So I am supposed to do good and be good out of love yet keep this regime of eternal rewards and punishments out of my heart and mind? Indeed, if I really believe Jesus, I should be terrified lest my soul end up there. Is this what Jesus means when he says: “here is none good but one, that is, God (Mark 10:18).” Does this mean that, like children, we can only be good for the sake of the toys? Because the world has been so corrupted by sin that goodness is simply because the reach of mere mortals? Contrary to our nature as formed by generations of living ‘in the darkness of the world’ (as I recall a pastor term it in a sermon).

   Or is the Good – God – like a Platonic Idea? We can only approximate it. Like the circles we draw as opposed to the Idea of the circle that judges them. As all the circles we draw are less than perfect, so our attempts at goodness fall short of perfection (i.e. God). So like children we need external rewards and punishments to motivate us (extreme ones).

    In any case, when reward and punishment enter into to things, there can be no talk of goodness.

[The difficulty Christians face when they try to act against our fallen nature out of pure love alone is mirrored in Kantian moral philosophy. The challenge for Kant is to act from pure duty unpolluted by natural inclinations like the desire to be praised or to feel good about oneself.]

. . .

Either you are prudent and act in such a way to reach a certain end – Heaven, wealth, social status, a comforting self-image, actualizing your higher potential, etc. - and avoid bad ends (like Hell or despair).  Here you are acting in your own interest. You are doing what is best for you, like eating healthy foods. Your actions are like steps taking you up to your goal. The goal is defined by how you conceive of reality (e.g. what foods are really healthy, what are not; what ways of living get me to Heaven, what ways do not, etc.). Or goodness is unconditional, like the highest forms of love. Goals, rewards, and punishments play no role. However I imagine reality, I will help my children if they need help and I can help them. Period. In any kind of a universe. Indifferent to any rewards or punishments. It is strange, but the essence of goodness comes out clearer in a world like that portrayed by Cormac McCarthy in The Road than it does in the teachings of Plato or Jesus, both of whom muddy the waters by teaching a higher spiritual reality that is the destiny of the good soul. This is strange because even in the worst-case scenario – even in the utter darkness of the world as imagined by Gnostics or Christians like the author of the Book of John – the Good is part of this world because love is part of this world. We can always be claimed by it.


Tuesday, June 25, 2024

 A Leak From Another World





You can know it through joy. The best way. Which is somehow connected to love.  The first time I hiked up a mountain to an old grown forest in the Smokies I felt that. The place put me in touch with a reality that I could not perceive or intellectually grasp. Only that magical joy put me in touch with it. Alas, the feeling fades and you're left with the memory. A picture of the place just covers it up altogether. 


. . .

 

   At the core of all the different kinds of love is the judgment that the beloved person or object is intrinsically good, that its existence is good, that it is good that it is in the world. To love someone is the joy that they exist. It can be for some like allowing them to be. To love and to be are deeply connected. (Josef Pieper)  That proves that reality is meaningful, that there is a moral structure to the universe. Beings have emerged from nature that have the potential to know and love others natural beings (in a finite way of course), to know and love a knowable and loveable universe. To be inspired by it. To contemplate its beauty. Let that sink in. 

  If we don't make up what is real and good, then autonomy is a false idea. The task to is conform our hearts and minds to reality. Our autonomy is the capacity to substitute for our highest potentials - perhaps the very reason for Creation for all we know - a merely private fantasy. We can chose to turn away from everything that is real and good. Hell - fantasy generated by a damaged, envious, resentful, fearful ego unhinging itself from reality. (MAGA is a form of Hell, Satanic to the core. Which is not to say that it can be recognized as such from within the fantasy.)

 

. . .

 

I can’t do otherwise. You get closest to goodness when you run up against some absolute limit: it is impossible for me, unthinkable for me to even contemplate doing that. Just as some differences exist as to what is unthinkable from one culture to the next – indeed, these differences being defining of those cultures as different – some things that are unthinkable for me might not be to another. Neither of my first two children were conceived in wisdom under ideal circumstances; not to consent to their lives – unthinkable. And the status of my religious beliefs played no role: I was areligious when Kelly was conceived; apostate when Paul was conceived; in both cases my heart was clear and pure when I consented to their lives. It is unintelligible to me that a person can feel differently (except perhaps in cases where rape or abuse was involved); I can only pity the mortal who cannot say yes to a new life they have brought about.

        In another case, every infantile and primitive emotion in me screamed out for violence against a person I felt had wronged my family. Here in a sense, evil was thinkable. And yet something in me knew with the certainty of a logical truth that should I give in to this lust for violence, I would lose my soul and harm my children irrevocably. In such cases – I cannot imagine an adult human being that does not know what I am talking about and has not known such moments – your whole being runs up against a rock-hard wall of reality, though you cannot see it. I call this, after Plato, the Good. 

   Perhaps a paradigm case of this (cited by Gaita) is Martin Luther’s appearance before the Emperor Charles V, when Luther, faced being burned at the stake should he not recant, said: ‘I stand here. I cannot do otherwise.’ It would have revealed a complete failure to understand Luther had one of his interrogators said – ‘Are you sure? Perhaps if you tried a bit harder, you could?’ Nonsense! 

But that is just one way the Absolute makes itself felt in earthly life. 


. . .


A good man can’t be harmed in this life or the next. Does our hope depend on how things will turn out in this world? Socrates explains to the Athenians while on trial for his life:

 

The difficulty, my friends, is not to escape death, but to avoid unrighteousness. Will life be worth living if that higher part of man, which is improved by justice and depraved by injustice, be destroyed?

 

Obviously, something terrible happened to Socrates, and many more terrible things happen to decent people all the time. So this paradoxical idea of Socrates (from the Apology) can’t mean that.

          Again, I think Gaita is the best reader of Plato here: “There can be an ethical perspective on misfortune that enabled one to consent to it rather than be resentful.” What does that mean? Well, Aristotle agreed up to a point but then qualified the claim with the observation that after a certain point, after a certain degree of suffering is reached, the anyone who is honest would admit that it would have been better had the sufferer never been born. Aristotle’s example case was Priam, who lost his beloved sons and city in the Trojan War. I can think of much worse examples. 

     You can understand Plato/Socrates as rejecting this, a rejection which Aristotle could not take seriously, seeing it as an example of wanting to argue for a thesis at any cost (i.e. embracing an other-worldly Idea without any nod towards common sense). Gaita makes sense of this thought that recalling Wittgenstein’s deathbed request to his doctor to tell his friends that ‘it’s been a wonderful life.’ This is reported by Norman Malcolm in his recollections of Wittgenstein and moved him precisely because Wittgenstein’s life had been for all appearances deeply unhappy (he was seriously in danger of committing suicide at many points in his life). Gaita paraphrases this remark in this way: Wittgenstein was not offering an assessment of his life, a judgment on the events and actions of his life, as might happen in a biography. Aristotle, in contrast, was offering an assessment of Priam’s life as supremely miserable, so miserable that anyone would have to say it would have been better had he never been born. But the latter judgment does not and cannot express an assessment of one’s life – that it was full of misfortune, etc. – but an attitude towards life, a light in which to see life, its happiness and miseries.

           Wittgenstein’s and Socrates’ attitudes are expressive of a kind of unconditional allegiance to the world as something good, as a difficult gift, despite what individuals may suffer (mostly due to man’s inhumanity to man). Or Lewis’ thought – adapted from Socrates – that suicide is like abandoning your post during a war in which the world is at stake. They saw whatever suffering in their lives in this light. Often a formative, sublime experience contributes to such an attitude, one that is upheld by conceptual resources within a culture. For the Greeks, it may have entered into their world through Socrates/Plato.

 


Sunday, June 23, 2024


 Human Image, World Image

Ye shall know them by their fruit.


 

Autonomy, individual freedom, and self-determination, are celebrated within the framework of capitalist societies driven by scientific and technological progress. Sounds good. I love freedom. I don’t want to live without it. But there is a paradox: the very systems that promise autonomy produce alienation—from nature, community, and for religious individuals, from deeply held spiritual values.

Words shift meaning when used to justify or reinforce (or undo) the powers that be. I just wrote how the normal meaning of “ambivalent” mutates when used as part of postcolonial “discourse” (another one of those words that mutate). If you use ‘ideology’ / ‘forms of social consciousness’ it is like you imported Marx’s philosophy into your argument without argument, as a taken-for-granted background being forced on your reader. If you choose ‘discourse’, then you assume Foucault. If you choose ‘paradigm,’ then Thomas Kuhn, etc. It is a bit like choosing between ‘sex worker’ or ‘prostitute’; or ‘fetus’ and ‘unborn baby.’ Your word choice already pushes the reader or listener toward your conclusion. It puts pressure on the reader/listener to be part of the ‘in’ group, like saying “Obviously the cutting-edge way to understand these things is Foucauldian; if you don’t use ‘discourse’ (even if you don’t really understand Foucault), then you are not in the ‘in’ group.” I suppose I prefer Wittgenstein’s ‘grammar’ because it is the least politically loaded. We need a way to refer to the phenomenon without smuggling in a whole controversial philosophy or worldview.

In any case, ‘autonomy’ is a word whose meaning (whose grammar) depends on a particular way of thinking, talking, and feeling about the world – one that is part of the regime of ‘science-capitalism-technology’ in the way ‘discourse’ is part of postcolonial studies.  My use of ‘science-capitalism-technology’ is also not neutral or value-free. (I took it over from Wendell Berry.) Nevertheless it expresses something important about our world: what seem distinct areas of endeavor (‘praxis’) are so intertwined that they cannot be separated. And this complex is the most powerful influence on the structure of society as well as changes in society.

     Autonomy has many uses that raise no political or philosophical problems. I am not talking about these. I am talking only about how ‘autonomy’ functions in the ‘discourse’ – the ways of thinking, speaking, and feeling – that more or less reinforces the regime, even when it appears otherwise. The ideological use of autonomy, rooted in capitalism’s profit maximization and consumerism ethos, contributes to these forms of alienation.

 

   Autonomy is supposed to be the pinnacle of individual empowerment. It encompasses economic autonomy—the freedom to participate in markets and accumulate wealth; political autonomy—the right to vote, voice opinions, and shape governance; and personal autonomy—the liberty to make choices about one’s life, identity, and pursuits. This notion is intricately linked with capitalism’s promise of meritocracy and upward mobility, where success is equated with individual effort and achievement.

    Deeper, it is a denial of authority – particularly the authority of parents and teachers. It is a denial of tradition. A man who becomes an officer because for generations every man in his family has become an officer is not autonomous. It is a denial of community in favor of individualism. Self-expression trumps community belongingness. Community – having to make a common life with others in a place – limits free self-expression i.e. autonomy.

   So far, I haven’t really touched on the problematic aspect of autonomy. If you asked me whether autonomy is good or bad, depending on what I have written so far, I would say: It is complex. It depends on the community, tradition, and authority we are talking about. I see these things – call them roots – as necessary for a good life. I see ‘autonomy’ in this sense as necessary for a good life. Neither can be absolute. We must find ways to live with the tension. These kinds of tensions are built into human life. That is one reason why utopia can only be a dystopia since utopia removes these necessary tensions.

   The problem comes when community, tradition, and authority are thought to be bad per se. As not even in principle being able to nourish the soul. As only being a chain on it. As being the equivalent of Plato’s Cave. And if roots are seen this way, as something only to be overcome, then nature will also be seen only as a limit to the will. If a community is completely rotten, only something to be overcome, then it is really not a community anymore anyway. It can only be a corrupted community in that case.

   I have recently written about how Aristotle and then Aquinas saw nature as the source of value and meaning – even when they allowed ideological distortions to creep into their understanding of nature.  Nature was a book, whose definitive reading was beyond human capacity, but like a youth reading Macbeth, we could understand something, enough even to disagree. This interpretative (hermeneutic) dimension was not something emphasized by Aristotle or Aquinas, but I emphasize it because it was implicit in the understanding that nature came into being through Ideas in the mind of God, an infinite and perfect Being, and thus by definition beyond the full comprehension of finite and fallible creatures. (I know of a painter who did nothing but paint ducks. It was a life project, grasping the being of a duck. Even so his understanding – though vastly more profound than my own – only distantly approached the Idea in God’s mind [take that as a metaphor if you want]. At some point, he must have experienced the kind of joy that C. S. Lewis described in Surprised by Joy, which is perhaps the closest we can get to the true being of a duck (a duck as God sees it). [Some philosophers need God at least as a metaphor to be able to account for Being: i.e. they can’t account for Being, for the experience of Being, without inserting God into their philosophy. A kind of a proof of God’s reality.] But I digress.

   But in this book of nature, humanity plays its part, i.e. there is also a nature of human beings. Part of this nature is that we are social and political beings. We cannot even survive as individuals much less inhabit a world (a Welt, as opposed merely to an Um-welt) in which we realize our humanity through craft, art, politics, science, religion, friendship, and so on). As individuals we cannot be anything but a deformed human being, one that did not blossom into a fully real human being. As individuals, we are closer either to the beasts or the gods, as Aristotle put it. Thus by nature we are beings that can only become what we are through living in a certain kind of community. In this proper (natural) form of community authority, tradition, and the virtues needed to cooperate on a common project with others you are bound to are thus also natural – in Kantian language, preconditions for the possibility of actualizing your human potential. And a good, valuable human life consists of nothing else but actualizing this potential. (Which you can’t do if you lay in bed all day and zone on TikTok!)

 It is the meaning of autonomy in the culture of modernity (science-capitalism-technology) that bothers me, in that web of concepts, and as time went on in the form of ideology/discourse/framework/paradigm/narratives. [so much jargon, like space junk, floating around in my conceptual web LOL – not that some valid insights don’t lie buried in these words before they became jargon. So many people use ‘discourse’ and ‘narrative’ in those special senses as though they had read and struggled with those French inheritors of Nietzsche and Heidegger – I mean Derrida and Foucault. And I get it; you have to be a special kind of person to find pleasure in reading the ‘texts’ of those guys, though there are diamonds in the rough.] Because it is a central idea in the picture of humanity that has led us to where we are now, standing on the abyss of ecological and social collapse, the former perhaps being more urgent. This passage has exerted a profound influence on me for many years now; I can’t get it out of my head:

The industrial and technological inferno we have produced around us, and by means of which we are now devastating our world, is not something that has come about accidentally. On the contrary, it is the direct consequence of our allowing ourselves to be dominated by a certain paradigm of thought – embracing a certain human image and a certain world image – to such a degree that it now determines virtually all our mental attitudes and all our actions, public and private. It is a paradigm of thought that impels us to look upon ourselves as little more than two-legged animals whose destiny and needs can best be fulfilled through the pursuit of social, political and economic self-interest. And to correspond with this self-image we have invented a world-view in which nature is seen as an impersonal commodity, a soulless source of food, raw materials, wealth, power and so on, which we think we are quite entitled to experiment with, exploit, remodel, and generally abuse by means of any scientific and mechanical technique we can devise and produce, in order to satisfy and deploy this self-interest. Having in our own minds desanctified ourselves, we have desanctified nature, too, in our own minds: we have removed it from the suzerainty of the divine and have assumed that we are its overlords, and that it is our thrall, subject to our will. In short, under the aegis of this self-image and worldview we have succeeded in converting ourselves into the most depraved and depraving of all creatures upon the earth. – Phillip Sherrard

If the picture, which made sense to the artists, scientists, inventors, and capitalists intent on throwing off the intolerable authority of the Church (with its God-cursed burnings and torturings) has brought us here, of what use is the picture? The corruption and injustice of the Church are the beginning of the picture.

  I can't be the best kind of critic because I have had a good life in capitalism if I abstract my life from the general tendency. I had hard-working parents who provided me with a high middle-class standard of living. I have received the precious gift of good education. My failings are my failings, not capitalism's. Many of the worst failings of capitalism are correctable by enlightened state policy as I know from living in Germany - which for all its problems is so much better governed than my home country that I feel anger and shame. (This is a result of the political constitution and culture, not individuals in the first place.)

    Although I would love a world freed from the Internet, social media, computers, cars, nuclear bombs, and such, there are some things in capitalism I would not want to do without: the quality of dentistry, optics, toilet paper, solar energy panels, and more. Some choices would be hard: I love my fridge but the world might be more sustainable without it?  

    Kept in its proper sphere and tightly intertwined with a decent political and moral culture, with regions and local communities, free enterprise in some form is probably a necessity. Every city needs a market. The market can't be allowed to swallow up the whole city. 

. . .

  The picture that has brought us here is a puzzle with many pieces that cohere to liberate man from reality – from nature. It liberates man from limits. It is a picture of human power over nature.

“Now, the desire for money, Thomas Aquinas pointed out, knows no limits, whereas all natural wealth, represented in the concrete form of food, clothing, furniture, houses, gardens, fields, has definite limits of production and consumption, fixed by the nature of the commodity and the organic needs and capacities of the user. The idea that there should be no limits upon any human function is absurd: all life exists within very narrow limits of temperature, air, water, food; and the notion that money alone, or power to command the services of other men, should be free of such definite limits is an aberration of the mind.”  – Lewis Mumford, The Pentagon of Power

 

Then there is the crime of Galileo. He posited as a precondition of his mechanical science this reductive doctrine: we cannot conceive a physical substance without size, position, motion/rest, and number; nor can we imagine bodies separated from any of these attributes. However, a body can be conceived without color, taste, aroma, or making a sound. We would not imagine such things were part of nature if we lacked senses, intellect and imagination. We project such qualities – including value and meaning – onto indifferent nature.  Thus Galileo:

Thus, from the point of view of the subject in which they seem to inhere [these things] are nothing but empty names, rather they inhere only in the sensitive body … [I]f one removes the animal, then all these qualities are … annihilated. (Galileo 1623 [2008: 185])

Thus for Lewis Mumford Galileo was indeed guilty of a crime; I will quote the whole passage for I cannot say it better:

Though Galileo’s interpretation of planetary movements led to a charge of heresy by the Roman Catholic Church, the heresy that he was accused of was one he did not utter. As he plaintively put it at the end of the ‘Dialogues on Two Worlds,’ he could not be justly convicted of a crime he had never committed. Like so many eminent later colleagues in science, such as Pascal, Newton, and Faraday, he was a theological conservative; and even in science he had no notion of bringing about any revolutionary overthrow of previously established truths: he error there, if anything, was to attempt clumsily to shore up and repair Ptolemy’s traditional structure.

     But actually, Galileo committed a crime far graver than any of the dignitaries of the Church accused him of; for his real crime was that of trading the totality of human experience, not merely the accumulated dogmas and doctrines of the Church, for that minute portion which can be observed within a limited time-span and interpreted in terms of mass and motion, while denying importance to the unmediated realities of human experience, from which science itself is only a refined ideological derivative. When Galileo divided experienced reality into two spheres, a subjective sphere, which he chose to exclude from science, and an objective sphere, freed theoretically from man’s visible presence, but known through rigorous mathematical analysis, he was dismissing as unsubstantial and unreal the cultural accretions of meaning that had made mathematics – itself a purely subjective distillation – possible.

      For the better part of three centuries scientists followed Galileo’s lead. Under the naïve belief that they were free from metaphysical preconceptions, the orthodox exponents of science suppressed every evidence of human and organic behavior that could not be neatly fitted into their mechanical world picture. They thus committed, in reverse, the error of the early Christian Fathers who had suppressed any interest in the natural world in order to concentrate upon the fate of the human soul in eternity. That ‘mass’ and ‘motion’ had no more objective existence from ‘soul’ and ‘immortality’ apart from their derived relation to other human experiences, was not even suspected by those who strained at the theological gnat and swallowed the scientific bat. Galileo, in all innocence, had surrendered man’s historic birthright: man’s memorable and remembered experience, in short, his accumulated culture. In dismissing subjectivity he had excommunicated history’s central subject, multi-dimensional man.

I could go on tracing how the contributions of Empiricism and Kantianism played their role in making all of nature unreal, of making reality a construct of the mind, a social construct it then became. How political economy made all value contingent on man’s desire and labor. How existentialism denied there was a human essence or human nature, positing we are called on (like Milton’s Satan) to create our own nature (and morality). Or the idea that there is no text, only interpretation (Barthes), a denial that Plato, Aristotle, or Aquinas have anything to teach us. That a book, rechristened ‘text,’ shall go the way of nature and be turned over to the “creative” projections of interpreters – rather like a modern theater direction imposing his sexual hang-ups on a play by Shakespeare (I was an unfortunate witness to such a performance of King Lear). Thus the modern and some self-styled ‘post-modern’ (which as a serious philosophical undertaking I do not disparage) elites make anything that could ‘talk back’ to them bow down. There is a connection between the violence capitalism does to nature and the violence that director did to Shakespeare’s play.

  And that is ultimately what autonomy means in this ‘discourse.’ The power to violate nature, community, books, etc. – anything that talks back to the ego.

  These cultural movements are interwoven with the material and social changes brought about by science-capitalism-technology. They are one, this regime and this human image.

Saturday, June 22, 2024

 Ramblings





This might bore the heck out of you – just exploring some philosophical connections. Mostly between Wittgenstein and Marx (with a side glance to Quine). In particular, I see interesting connections between what Marx called ‘forms of social consciousness’ (Bewusstseinsformen) and Wittgenstein explored as (conceptual) grammar (and Quine’s ‘conceptual web’ or ‘frameworks’ as used by other philosophers). Forms of social consciousness shape societal norms, values, and ideologies, while Wittgensteinian grammar elucidates the rules and structures that govern language and social practices: two sides of the same coin, almost.

I wrote about ideology before. Marx distinguishes forms of social consciousness from ideology. The (in my youth) standard public statement “Columbus discovered America” is ideology; the corresponding form of social consciousness or general principle that underlies and governs this statement would be the largely (in my youth) ‘All human discernment is European.’ Forms of social consciousness are like Kant’s a priori forms of understanding brought down to earth. Kant's a priori forms of understanding (a priori: not from experience but structuring experience), including space, time, and the categories of the understanding, are thought provide the necessary framework through which human cognition organizes and comprehends sensory experiences. These forms are not derived from experience but are inherent in the structure of the human mind, shaping how we perceive, interpret, and understand the world around us. Our minds (or brains) contribute space, time, substance, etc. to the world; the world does not imprint these phenomena onto to mind in experience. Just so forms of social consciousness function to structure experience, to make the quality of experience we have possible. We don’t learn ‘All discernment is European’ as a direct lesson in school. Our brains unconsciously infer it from language use just as it does the grammar of our language. And just as grammar – both in the linguistic and Wittgensteinian sense of conceptual grammar – structures our minds and uses of language, so do social forms of consciousness structure our beliefs about the world.  These forms of consciousness are not mere reflections of objective reality but actively shape and reinforce social hierarchies and power dynamics.

   Marx – not very clearly – interprets the ‘grammar’ of social forms of consciousness like this:

1.    The existing social order cannot be fundamentally changed. An ideological belief that reflects this underlying principle might be: Socialism failed economically and was totalitarian politically (USSR). Thus the current capitalist order is the only economically rational order. There is no alternative. For Marx, the commodification of labor under alienates workers from the products of their labor and from each other. Forms of social consciousness in this context include beliefs in the naturalness of market forces and the inevitability of economic competition, which obscure the social relations of production and perpetuate alienation.

 

2.    The preferred social order is morally good. Its ideological expressions include is accords with Divine Will, or it is free, or it represents progress or civilization, etc. ‘All human discernment is European’ is a variant of that. Aquinas’ justification of the feudal controllers of land as ‘natural’ is another example.

 

3.    What does not comply with the existing social order is blameworthy. Thus social protest is ‘extremist,’ reformers are ‘agitators,’ foreign opponents are ‘criminal’ or ‘barbarous,’ etc.  

 

4.    Whatever social status enjoyed by individuals in the social order reflects their intrinsic worth. So billionaires are paragons of virtue for capitalism-lovers. Ideologies of meritocracy and individualism obscure systemic inequalities and justify the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a few.

 

5.    The social order represents the interests of all people in the society. So those at the bottom “consent” to capitalism because they would have it worse in another system.

 

6.    A part of the social order represents the whole of society. A society without owners of capital and those who work for them is unintelligible.

I could go on.

When part of the social grammar becomes conscious and a point of contention – like All human discernment is Western – it can destabilize the social system, as we see now in America, which is in a quasi-revolutionary situation marked by conflict on all these principles of social grammar or forms of social consciousness. But the revolution is a bit superficial, taking place at the level of the ‘superstructure.’ No one proposes changing the economic-technical base. At most people like Bernie Sanders want to place some moral and political constraints on its power, as did FDR.

  For Marx, of course, all these grammatical points applied to capitalist society would illusions – like in Plato’s cave. Only in a communist (perfectly just society corresponding with human nature) would social grammar not give rise to ideology. I can’t agree. Liberal capitalism is not all rotten, though what was good about it has been eroding fast and what is rotten is getting unbearable. There were even some good things in the German Democratic Republic: education and medical care were available at no extra cost beyond taxation for every person; the rents were low and the necessities of life affordable; there was no homelessness. It is never so black-and-white. Social grammar gives rise to ideology only when one regime claims to be perfect or to represent perfection, making all other regimes into orcs. Of course, some regimes are orcish. But no regime is divine or even angelic. Revolutions invariably produce misery and destruction and then result in some form of tyranny. Reform – continual, never-ceasing reform is the way I think we should go. Take what is good, preserve that, and build on it.

( I learned this from the best book on Marx ever: John McMurtry, The Structure of Marx’s Worldview, 1978, which was recommended by a professor under whom I studied Marx in 1980, Herbert Reid of the University of Kentucky. “What are they teaching folks at university???” I can hear a MAGA exclaim. I dealt with a great variety of perspectives at university, from conservative Christian to Marxian and post-modern. How wonderfully free was my university at that time. Well, a university is not Sunday school, or shouldn’t be. This raises questions I have to deal with later. But I believe the upbringing of young children must be mostly ‘conservative’ – reflect the forms of social consciousness of a real community, a relatively free one preferably, precisely so that they have a foundation to begin the serious adult task of making sense of the world, of making sense of plurality. The uprooted won’t be able to understand much or even care about understanding much, as the present state of Western humanity shows.)

. . .

   Wittgenstein's concept of grammar shifts the focus to language and its rules, highlighting how language structures our understanding of the world and shapes social practices. Grammar, in Wittgensteinian terms, refers not only to syntax and grammar rules but also to the implicit rules, norms, and conventions that govern language use and social interactions.

 

·        Language Games: Wittgenstein introduced the concept of language games to illustrate how language is embedded in social practices and contexts. Different forms of social consciousness create different language games, where the rules and meanings of words are defined by their use in specific social contexts. For example, the language game of economics defines terms like "value," "profit," and "capital" according to capitalist forms of social consciousness, thus determining how they are used and when common sense is violated. Economics is a hybrid between empirical correlations in the economic sphere, models to predict economic tendencies, and an ideology of capitalism.

 

·        Forms of Life: Wittgenstein argued that language is intertwined with forms of life—shared practices, customs, and beliefs that constitute social reality. Forms of social consciousness shape forms of life, defining what is meaningful, intelligible, and acceptable within a given society. For instance, religious forms of social consciousness define forms of life centered around rituals, beliefs, and moral values that govern religious communities. Religion typically justifies certain power structures – as Aquinas justified feudal lords or evangelicals justify billionaires as graced by God in today’s America, forcing them to be blind to or reinterpret the teachings of Jesus (Matthew 19:24; 25:40). And thus forms of social consciousness condition and limit how religion is understood and practiced. The grammar of ‘sin’ is thus conditioned and becomes ideological when applied to concrete actions and particular people. Within the community of evangelicals it ‘doesn’t make sense’ to imagine the kind of greed that motivates a hedge fond manager like Jared Kuschner – who traded his influence in government for 2 billion Saudi dollars as ‘sin.’

 

·        Family Resemblances: Wittgenstein's concept of family resemblances suggests that meanings are not fixed but are interconnected through overlapping similarities. Similarly, forms of social consciousness create networks of meaning and understanding that shape how individuals interpret and navigate social realities. That allows a concept like ‘sin’ to take on uses special to social groups, which are in turn partly defined by an ideology and its underlying forms of social consciousness.

 

What makes sense depends on conceptual grammar. Conceptual grammar at some level is conditioned for forms of life. Forms of life embody forms of social consciousness and the ideologies they give rise to. The use of ‘discover’ in the statement “Columbus discovered America” is an example. (Lichtenberg, the German aphorist that lived during the time of George Washington, wrote: The American who first discovered Columbus made a bad discovery.)

  Marxian forms of social consciousness and Wittgensteinian grammar analysis together elucidate how ideologies, norms, and language are interconnected and mutually reinforcing. Marx's analysis provides a loose basis for understanding how economic relations shape social consciousness and ideologies, influencing language use and social practices. Wittgensteinian grammar, on the other hand, offers a linguistic framework for examining how forms of social consciousness manifest in language and social interactions, constructing and maintaining social reality.

     In capitalist societies, for example, forms of social consciousness make ideologies of individualism and free market competition seem ‘obvious’ or part of ‘common sense.’ Wittgensteinian grammar reveals how these ideologies are embedded in everyday language use, where terms like "entrepreneurship," "efficiency," and "consumer choice" carry specific meanings that reflect capitalist values and norms. Marxian analysis highlights how forms of social consciousness, such as nationalism or class consciousness, shape political discourse and power relations. Wittgensteinian grammar illustrates how political ideologies are articulated through language games that define political identities, policies, and strategies.

   Unlike Marx, I don’t think “relations of production” and “means of production” alone determine the ways we can understand ourselves. Take an oppositional language game – call it post-colonialism. There is a whole glossary of terms. For example, ambivalence takes on different rules of use, like a new branch on the larger tree of meanings. This within the postcolonial language game it means something like: “The ambiguous way in which colonizer and colonized regard one another.  The colonizer often regards the colonized as both inferior yet exotically other, while the colonized regards the colonizer as both enviable yet corrupt.  In a context of hybridity, this often produces a mixed sense of blessing and curse.” Someone uninitiated to this discipline (form of life?) will not understand the term in this use without much effort.

    Here is an example of the kind of ‘discourse’ this social complex of academics and activists produces:

In unsettling the certainties of the Western philosophical canon, we advocate for a radical epistemic plurality that honors and incorporates the diverse knowledges and ontologies of marginalized communities. Decolonial epistemologies offer a transformative potential to reconfigure our understanding of knowledge, power, and justice in a way that is more inclusive, equitable, and responsive to the lived realities of subaltern subjects. Through this decolonial praxis, we seek to contribute to the ongoing project of dismantling the colonial matrix of power and fostering a more just and pluriversal world, while maintaining a critical awareness of the complexities and challenges inherent in this endeavor.

 

An outsider to this movement will immediately notice that the language usage departs in significant ways from his own. If the outsider finds himself in some sympathy with the politics involved, he might find the jargon like an admission ticket to a special movement. Others may perceive the rhetoric as alienating, elitist, and confusing. Underlying motives for how people respond are also diverse, affecting meaning. Some may be consumed by resentment; some may be genuinely concerned with justice; some may be fascinated by different possible worlds; some may see in postcolonialism an attempt to demean and orc a way of life that one loves and identifies with; some may see it as a way to get tenure, Etc. Depending on such factors, how I understand an utterance within this ‘discourse’ – also a jargon word – may differ from yours.

    Departures from the grammar of ordinary use often signal deeper breaks from forms of social consciousness. The word “knowledges” is used in the text. Knowledge is a non-count, abstract noun. Using it in the plural doesn’t make sense – unless you are introducing new wine in the old bottle. There are many examples of non-count abstract nouns used in the plural: epistemologies, ontologies, etc. Indeed, it is an axiom (a kind of form of social consciousness) in this movement that seeing terms like knowledge as non-count is ideological, making it seem that there is an essence and purpose (to use Aristotelian terms) of knowledge whereas postcolonial is founded on the unquestioned axiom that there is a best a loose family resemblance (no essence) in different knowledges (forms of knowledge). Being blind to this is a kind of ideology that masks other equally valid knowledges.

   The discussion about essentialism in both gender and knowledge reveals significant shifts in how these concepts are understood. In postcolonial discourse, the move from using "knowledge" to "knowledges" parallels the shift from a binary understanding of gender to recognizing multiple genders, for example: the shift from saying ‘there are many ways to be a man or a woman’ to ‘there are many genders.’ These changes challenge the idea of fixed, universal categories, instead emphasizing diversity, context-dependence, and inclusivity. By acknowledging multiple knowledges and genders, these frameworks reveal underlying assumptions and power dynamics in traditional epistemologies and gender binaries, fostering a more nuanced view of human experience and understanding.

   So if we are setting up a list of ‘forms of social consciousness’ for postcolonialism, it would include nominalism: the denial that the diverse meanings of ‘knowing something’ in diverse practices or forms of life is equivocal and not analogical. Nominalism is the denial of essence or Idea: the denial that something essential in reality justifies my including both trees under the same concept ‘birch tree.’ The two trees are, in reality, irreducibly independent entities. My languages and my culture's classification of them as ‘Birch trees’ is just one arbitrary system of classification among others. To presume it truly captures something about nature could thus only be ideology, a mask to elevate one interpretation (of an inkblot, for that is what reality means in this system) over others that are equally valid. Like colonialism did and does. The metaphysics of Nominalism has thus been grafted onto Postcolonial thought, or rather Postcolonial thought has been grafted onto the template of Nominalism, which functions as a form of social consciousness within this project to the ideological use of language – knowledges.

    This is an unfortunate marriage if Nominalism can be shown to be incoherent. I see nothing in the project itself that requires one to embrace Nominalism. I assume two different knowledges might be, for example, scientific-industrial agriculture and the agricultural practices of a “marginal” people like the Amish. There are beliefs and practices that count as ‘knowledge’ within each system, though the criteria of what count as ‘knowledge’ are different. The main point of Postcolonialism is not to elevate the criteria of scientific-industrial knowledge (as applied in an agricultural context) over traditional, handicraft criteria, demeaning the latter as a preparation to destroy it. I am in 100% agreement with that! But to even make sense, the use of knowledge as applied to both scientific-industrial and Amish cannot be equivocal, cannot logically-conceptually be utterly different concepts. Amidst different there must also be some core similarity. That core similarity is difficult to formulate in a way that commands universal agreement but it might go something like this: for anything whatsoever to count as knowledge, there must be no compelling reason to doubt its truth and there must be some compelling evidence or reasoning to justify it as true. The Amish have experience over many generations of what works and what doesn’t; agrobusiness formulates hypothesis and tests them. There is overlap here. The only real function of ‘knowledges’ is thus the rhetorical one of emphasizing plurality. Yet the Nominalism is definitive of Postcolonialism – as opposed to another movement that just cared about truth and justice. I can believe that the literature of native Americans is valuable and that my love of Shakespeare should not devalue it without being a Nominalist. I can love a book written or dictated by Black Elk for the same kind of reasons that I love Shakespeare. And not being a Nominalist I can treasure my common humanity with Black Elk, rather than see him as utterly alien – which to me is a kind of demeaning in itself. That for me is an indication that Postcolonialism is about more than truth and justice.

 

. . .

   

  Now Postcolonialism is a project within capitalist society that cannot be easily reduced to the kinds of concerns that concerned Marx. Indeed, from the perspective of Postcolonialism, Marx is a representative of the problem. The grafting of ‘ideology’ and ‘forms of social consciousness’ onto Postmodernism allows some insights, but since we largely ignore the “means of production” and “relations of production” – obviously there is some sort of relationship if not one of determination – the meaning those terms had for Marx shifts.

  I would add something to Marx. The forms of social consciousness and ideology both tend to general epistemological bubbles and echo chambers. This is because of power. That is, when beliefs, conscious and unconscious, are pressed into the service of political conflict, people and groups use them to define identities and exclude (or orcify) opponents. They need not serve this function but they can and often do. I think that is how Nominalism became useful for Postcolonialism. During my life at the university I have witnessed an intense war over the content which and people who drive the humanities. The traditional liberal arts / great books curriculum was largely driven out by the culture studies / postcolonial studies. What might have been compatible philosophies and approaches become ideological, and ideologies depend on deeper principles. Nominalism – and its accompanying cultural, linguistic, and conceptual relativisms – served Postcolonialism well as an ideology to fight against the liberal arts. This is what went beyond truth and justice.

I’ve been rambling. Will stop here. Didn’t even start the thought I was most interested in today. Maybe tomorrow.

Thursday, June 20, 2024

 Ideology and Philosophy




 

    I have always thought that philosophy – and every form of serious thinking – is limited by what can make sense. What can make sense, in turn, is conditioned by the concrete lives we live, which is conditioned but not determined by “the world” in which we live: by technology, by dominant media, by history, by economic and social relations – “the base” as Marx termed it. Then there is the equally broad term “culture” or in Marxist terms “the superstructure,” which is always in some complicated relation to the base. This consists of all the ideas, explanations, and interpretations that constitute an individual's understanding of self, others, nature, transcendence, and the world as a whole. Ideology is part of this. So ideology is something that can condition one's thinking without one being fully aware of it. 

     I don’t want to get into Marx-interpretation here, but these seem two aspects of one whole to me. In any case, what I resist is the treatment of philosophy as a journey of ideas, some having an impact on culture and thus the base; but a journey of ideas intelligible apart from all the other things happening in the world. So, for example, the idea you hear from Thomists that Nominalism destroyed the Medieval Thomist synthesis, opening the door for modern philosophy (Descartes and those who followed him), which opened the door for the regime of science-capitalism-technology to become dominant. As though the modern world was a consequence of philosophy alone. I don't believe our ideas are nothing but the distorted reflection of economic and technological power, which itself can be understood with the precision of natural science, as Marx believed. But neither are they completely independent. Sense is conditioned by form of life (Wittgenstein).

    Whenever power elites with a vested interest in maintaining or expanding their power, wealth, and privilege – and at least since the early stone ages that describes every social matrix or ‘form of life’ as Wittgenstein termed it – there will be ideologies: political and social interpretations that justify a particular regime – meant in a neutral sense as the system as a way of organizing a system of power. Ideology (as Marx understood it) is no longer well understood, partly for ideological reasons. What a rationalization is in private life, ideology is in public life: it justifies and blocks the kinds of criticism that would call into question the self in the case of rationalization, the powers-that-be in the case of ideology. Rationalizations and ideologies are meant to make an interpretation that is potentially problematic, morally or politically, something we take for granted, something that is beyond criticism, something you’d be unhinged to call into question, something that belongs to the “social consensus.” Ideologies are public rationalizations we uncritically take over to spare ourselves the pain of truth. Just as we don’t judge an individual by what he thinks of himself, so we don’t judge a regime by its own self-interpretations. We all want our self interpretations to be self-authenticating. That's why we try to ban thoughts of rationalization and ideology. 

     Ideologies are also a kind of epistemological bubble that actually lies under the surface of official political programs. Pre-Trump Republicans – crudely put – had a belief system based on “what’s good for big business is good for the country,” whereas Democrats believed that the state had to alleviate the worst injustices of capitalism to secure its benefits.

And as in private life one differentiates between what a man thinks and says of himself and what he really is and does, so in historical struggles one must distinguish still more the phrases and fancies of parties from their real organism and real interests. (Marx, The 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte)

The ideology is “capitalism is good for the country” and “socialism is bad for the country” (again crudely put). “There is no fundamental conflict between workers and the owners of capital.” “Workers freely enter into labor contracts with the owners of capital,” and so on. Or I wrote earlier on how Thomism became an ideology that rationalized the power of the feudal landowners and the Church. The beliefs that informed conflict in the Middle Ages never called the underlying economic power structure into question.

    Ideologies can be thought of as an “official currency” of consciousness, to which all other ways of thinking and speaking tend to conform in one way or another: “public modes of consciousness.” It is not possible to draw a clear line between a political program and ideology. As a Whig in 1840’s, I can see how a man like Abraham Lincoln could see free enterprise as a progressive force. By the time of Ronald Reagan, I can only see the modern variants of that belief system as a form of false consciousness – ideology; as masking the power moves on behalf of particular capitalist interests. You have to look and see how it is used. [I think it probable that the elites and also people disadvantaged by the regime overreacted to Bernie Sanders’ “democratic socialism” and the attempts of the Left to change aspects of social consciousness (“Wokeness”), seeing in it a breakdown of the American ideology and releasing the political toxin that we know as MAGA. Here we see that ideology can also have a positive role of maintaining some social cohesion and preventing the rise of fanaticism.]      

   There are typical ways ideologies deceive us. Empty generalities mask reality. We in liberal countries praise freedom, equality, and rights, masking the real world reality of how these ideas play out for working people and the poor as opposed to the economic elites. Such generalities permit discourse to be “torn away from the facts,” as Marx put it. Or ideas that perhaps reflected some reality in the past are used to distort a very different present. Lockean liberal ideas corresponded to some extent with the experience of small shop owners and free farmers in the America of 1800; today the same ideas are used to cover up just how radically different corporate America is from that time. Or ideologies use idealized or slanted language to distort social reality. Kings had their power by divine sanction in the Middle Ages. We live in capitalism because of a freely entered social contract. The uninhibited exploitation of man and nature by 19th-century capitalism was hailed as progress and civilization. The controllers of capital are called “work-givers” in German (Arbeitgeber) whereas those of the dispossessed who have nothing to sell but their labor are “work-takers” (Arbeitnehmer). Etc.

     When we think, when we think philosophically, we must always be aware of ideology. A good test is to draw out the social and political implications of your belief system. My critique of “autonomy” as a moral idea is embedded in the form of life I inhabit, and I am well aware that it implies a political belief critical of capitalism, and thus critical of liberalism. That doesn’t mean I am going out of the streets demanding the end of capitalism. At this time, political action has to deal with the threat of populist fascism – which would do away with valuable aspects of liberalism (e.g. somewhat free thought at universities) as well as any chance to humanize capitalism or, better, transform it into something more compatible with justice, human dignity and decency. I am also well aware that my criticism of “autonomy” as used in the ideology of the regime I live under only makes sense in that world. I think Aristotle would not have understood it because he would have found the ideology and indeed the regime I am criticizing unintelligible. In other words, my philosophical critique is a kind of ideology critique.

   My own thought is “safe” in that it imagines an alternative world that does not exist, or has only existed in attenuated forms. I’m a bit like Plato criticizing our shadowy ideas of the world from an imagined position outside the Cave – imagined only from a position within the Cave. That is a problem for philosophy. That is why I feel a person must not reduce their politics to their philosophy or vice-versa. Dialog between the two is important though.

  I don’t think Marx believed he was thinking philosophically. He didn’t think of himself as a philosopher. He didn’t believe he was primarily interpreting reality using the tools of reason and conceptual thought (the tools of making sense). “The philosophers have hitherto only interpreted the world in various ways,” he famously said. “The point, however, is to change it.” But Marx was also interpreting the world. That quote is an interpretation. And if you want to change the world, you need some beliefs to guide you. I believe Marx thought of himself as a Darwin of the historical world. That makes no sense to me. The desire to put one's interpretations beyond interpretation by (illicitly) conceiving them as "scientific" is ironically itself a profoundly ideological distortion, typical for the regime of science-capitalism-technology. 

, , ,

 I am not against private business as such. What I mean by "capitalism" is the radical simplification of practical reason to profit-calculation and thus (usually) efficiency-calculation without concern for the effect of decisions on community life or the nature of the place (or your relationship to God if you are religious). There is nothing wrong with a marketplace as long as the marketplace doesn't take over the whole city. Not everything can become a commodity without demeaning and damaging it. There are a few limits on capitalist rationality - not allowed to murder you competitor; there are laws against fraud to protect the system as a whole. But aside from that the power of capitalism is that the controllers of capital don't have to worry about their workers, nature, or the community they are supposed to be a part of beyond a calculation of profit and loss. The controllers of capital have been 'freed' from the normal obligations of decency and justice.  It is greed made into a science. That society as a whole benefits from this is bullshit. 

       If we are gonna permit corporations, then only with a limited charter that must be renewed based on the overall good of the workers, nature, and the community. Technologies that have to potential to transform society shall be permitted only after profound reflection on how this transformation will affect justice, democracy, the public good, etc. A new technology - Twitter, social media - is like a change in the constitution. That power can't be left to capitalists. Moreover, the ability of capital to influence or even control government - the agency responsible for the common good - must be cleanly cut. Private business must have a strict moral, ecological, and political framework, a fence around it so that it doesn't become the dominant force in society as it is now.  Rather than the totalitarian global regime of capitalism I prefer a mixed economy - worker ownership, family farms, some state-supervised firms (e.g. pharmacy, defense, energy), and more. I prefer a small-scale economies rooted in regions. And there must be sustainable economies, which means economies that use only the amount of energy that renewables can provide - even if that means small-scale technologies become necessary. That is the short version of my view of capitalism and economy. What we have now is a fantasy. We need to start getting realistic. 

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