Canon Fodder

Came across this passage in Thomas More’s Utopia this morning, and couldn’t help but share. :-)

…only he [Utopus] made a solemn and severe law against such as should so far degenerate from the dignity of human nature, as to think that our souls died with our bodies, or that the world was governed by chance, without a wise overruling Providence:

for they all formerly believed that there was a state of rewards and punishments to the good and bad after this life; and they now look on those that think otherwise as scarce fit to be counted men, since they degrade so noble a being as the soul, and reckon it no better than a beast’s: thus they are far from looking on such men as fit for human society, or to be citizens of a well-ordered commonwealth; since a man of such principles must needs, as oft as he dares do it, despise all their laws and customs: for there is no doubt to be made, that a man who is afraid of nothing but the law, and apprehends nothing after death, will not scruple to break through all the laws of his country, either by fraud or force, when by this means he may satisfy his appetites. They never raise any that hold these maxims, either to honours or offices, nor employ them in any public trust, but despise them, as men of base and sordid minds.

Yet they do not punish them, because they lay this down as a maxim, that a man cannot make himself believe anything he pleases; nor do they drive any to dissemble their thoughts by threatenings, so that men are not tempted to lie or disguise their opinions; which being a sort of fraud, is abhorred by the Utopians: they take care indeed to prevent their disputing in defence of these opinions, especially before the common people: but they suffer, and even encourage them to dispute concerning them in private with their priest, and other grave men, being confident that they will be cured of those mad opinions by having reason laid before them. There are many among them that run far to the other extreme, though it is neither thought an ill nor unreasonable opinion, and therefore is not at all discouraged. They think that the souls of beasts are immortal, though far inferior to the dignity of the human soul, and not capable of so great a happiness.

Here are my reactions to three books which I have recently finished reading:

Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen – This was a delightful book! The setting is charming, and character development is top notch. I felt like I was an anthropologist studying the completely foreign courtship rituals of an ancient people. I absolutely loved Elizabeth’s nobility, which lacked pretention as true nobility always does. My second favorite character, after Elizabeth, was her father. His sense of humor and happy-go-lucky attitude made my opinion of him alternate between amiable and foolish. I think I liked this because my character walks that line as well. :-) Definitely a great read.

The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison – This was my first Toni Morrison book; Tina chose to introduce me to this one first because it is her favorite. The way Morrison is able to capture human experiences and describe them in words is incredible. She is a master of metaphor, but even when she is literal her descriptions are quite vivid. Whenever she describes an experience which I’ve had, I feel like she puts me into better contact with that experience – helps me to better understand it or even feel it more deeply – than I ever had before. Whenever she writes about an experience that is foreign to me, it does the same thing and also often makes me want to experience it firsthand. The Bluest Eye is a great story. Not always easy to read because of the emotions it stirs, but great. I’m definitely going to be reading more of Toni Morrison’s books.

The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka – What a wonderfully weird story! Now I’ll finally understand what people mean by “Kafkaesque.” At first I thought that the “metamorphosis” of the title had only to do with Gregor’s obvious change, but by the end it was clear that his family had undergone just as much change. I was immediately reminded of an recent experience of mine in which the removal of one person from an environment completely changed the relations of all of the others in it. All of the sudden it was like a weight was lifted or a shadow was vanquished. Read this one and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

As I was reading Wittgenstein's Poker: The Story of a Ten-Minute Argument Between Two Great Philosophers last night I found a series of interesting passages, particularly so to me because they seemed somehow analogous to my experience of late. You see, as I have shared with my friends the changes in thinking that I have recently undergone – particularly my growing empiricism and skepticism – I have been accused on at least two occasions of becoming thoroughly “modern.” I’ve said many times that it is a mistake to equate “modern” with “bad” (or “postmodern” with “good”), but that said I’m still not exactly flattered to be connected to “modern” empiricism and skepticism – not to mention the agendas that these often serve. I find these to be full of hubris and often so foolish as to be utterly contemptable. This is in contrast to my “soft” empiricism and skepticism, which I hope is much more humble and wise, but the distinction has been lost on some friends lately.

Apparently when I say that I have become more “empirical” people think that I am becoming a logical positivist. Now let’s turn to Wittgenstein’s Poker:

To the world of philosophy, one powerful appeal of the Vienna Circle stemmed from their simple, basic tenet that there were only two types of valid statements. There were those that were true or false by virtue of the meaning of their own terms: statements such as “All bachelors are unmarried men,” equations such as “2+2=4,” and logical inferences such as “All men are mortal; Socrates is a man; therefore Socrates is mortal.” And there were those that were empirical and open to verification: “Water boils at 100 degrees Celsius,” “The world is flat” (which, being open to verification, is meaningful even if false).

All other statements were, to the Circle, literally meaningless. Thus, since it was impossible to verify whether God existed, religious pronouncements were sent smartly to the intellectual rubbish bin – where metaphysics, too, consequently belonged. In with the “garbage” went pronouncements about aesthetics, ethics, and the meaning of life. (pp. 155-156)

The theory that meaningful statements have either to be analytic (where truth or falsity can be assessed by examining the meaning of the words or symbols employed – “all triangles have three sides”) or open to observation became known as “logical positivism,” and many logical positivists took the Tractatus as the Bible. (p. 158)

The Tractatus mentioned here is of course Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (which I confess I once perused while in Borders and would have purchased had I not found it completely impenetrable). This famous Circle of logical positivists was absolutley enthralled with Wittgenstein:

But it was for Wittgenstein that the movement reserved its greatest reverence. In February 1933 A. J. Ayer wrote to his friend Isaiah Berlin with his impression of the group: “Wittgenstein is a deity to them all.” Russell, according to Ayer, was seen as merely a “forerunner of the Christ [Wittgenstein].” (p. 152)

They obviously felt he was on their side. At a shallow level it must have sounded as if they were allies in the same fight. But they were wrong.

The total accuracy of the Vienna Circle’s interpretation of the Tractatus is another matter. Wittgenstein had parceled up propositions into those which can be said and those about which we must remain silent. Scientific propositions fell into the former category, ethical propositions into the latter. But what many in the Circle misunderstood was that Wittgenstein did not believe that the unsayable should be condemned as nonsense. On the contrary, the things we could not talk about were those that really mattered. Wittgenstein had spelt out the point of the Tractatus in a letter to a prominent avant-garde editor: “The book’s point is an ethical one… My work consists of two parts: the one presented here plus all that I have not written. And it is precisely this second part that is the important one.” (pp. 158-159)

I think it will be necessary and good for me to explore in a later post the differences between the empiricism that I have embraced and other forms of it, as in logical positivism. For now, I just thought I’d share this interesting information about the Vienna Circle and Wittgenstein as a word of caution about judging things by their appearances and as an exhortation to dig deeper. Sometimes the similarities between things are only superficial.