Restoring Religion

I suppose it was inevitable that the event in D.C. held by Glenn Beck, a wretch once lost but now found, would ultimately become a kind of salvation show.  Like other such wretches, he's determined that others find what he found.  He seems a strange fellow; one can see why he was lost, why he was blind and now "sees."  He is emotional, even sentimental, and his appeal, such as it is, is emotional and sentimental.  One can argue that one must willfully forsake reason to accept wholesale the claims of the Mormon and other institutionalized religions.

One need not be vapid and weepy in order to be religious.  It's possible to be thoughtfully religious.  But thought doesn't bring in the crowds, nor does it make believers of the kind sought by Beck and others of his kind.

It's unfortunate that the kind of religion most seem to favor and seek in this great republic and elsewhere requires that one give up thinking.  What is necessary instead is the belief that all thinking--to the extent thought is even required--has been done already by a kind of Law-Giver, who seems oddly human for the creator of such a vast universe.  He's determined what is good and bad, what we should and should not do, what we should and should not think, and that's all there is to it.  It's merely necessary that we accept this and all will be well, with us and and the world.  We need only follow His orders.   We don't have to determine what the appropriate course may be; we don't have to resolve problems by intelligently considering the circumstances and making reasoned decisions.

It's hard to think--to think well, in any case--and it's comforting to believe that it isn't really needed.  But it seems a pathetic, hypocritical and even cowardly  response to the problems of life to dispense with reason and accept instead as governing in all cases a set of rules which we have in fact always managed not to follow whenever it pleased us to ignore them.

It's surely hard to think, but it's dangerous not to, particularly where our politics are concerned.  If we would rather not think, if we become convinced that there are predetermined rules which merely need to be enforced and that there are those who know these rules and how to enforce them, the kind of politics we're likely to favor and accept are anti-democratic; totalitarian, authoritarian and even theocratic.

The Great American City

Let's ignore "Mosque Madness" for a time or if you'd rather not, depart from this place as I do so.

I post today to sing the praises of the City of the Broad Shoulders (don't be intimidated by them), renowned for many things if not (yet?) the fact that it is the place of my birth.  Yes, it's my kind of town, my hometown, where, invariably, I lose the blues.  And it's true of course that not even Billy Sunday could shut it down.

My maternal grandmother learned how to knit at Hull House.  My maternal grandfather was a conductor on the L (which I've also seen characterized as the EL) back when the CTA had conductors and would take my brother and I along on his route now and then.  My parental grandparents were both in Vaudeville, and performed in Chicago and elsewhere.  My maternal grandparents are buried in the same cemetery, and not far from, the last resting places of Al Capone and Frank Nitte.

I've mentioned before here that Norman Mailer called it "a great American city" in his New Journalism classic Miami and the Siege of Chicago, and that I think of it as the Great American City.  Wandering through Grant Park at the Gold Coast Art Fair I was reminded of when, in 1968, the "whole world was watching" the Democratic Convention dissolve into chaos courtesy of disaffected college students and the police of the city.  Sitting in Andy's Jazz Club on East Hubbard and listening to a trio play a few days ago, I felt called on to explain why I think it's a special place.

Happily, the smell of the stockyards is no longer with us, but Chicago owes much of its status and history to them, and to the railroad.  It was for many years the hub which all roads led to and from in the days when Americans rode the rails, and many of the great from the east and the west coasts would stop there.  Route 66 commenced in the city.  It was and remains a great financial center.  It is very much a central city, more or less in the heart of the nation.  It is sufficiently detached from the east and west coasts to avoid the influence, both good and bad, of foreign nations to a greater extent than New York and L.A.

Insulated from that influence, it developed a peculiarly American sense of style, particularly in its architecture.  A friend who has lived for many years in Manhattan told me Chicago is much more interesting in its architecture than New York, and I think he is quite right.  Burnham, Wright and others did amazing things in and out of the Loop.  Great American writers had their origins in the city.  John Dewey and Jane Adams did great work there.

It seems to exude a kind of power, a quasi-Roman kind of grandeur.  It is a very practical city, as Rome once was, and a very violent and venal city, as Rome once was.  It is remarkable in that it was once openly run by gangsters, that is to say rival men of power, again as Rome once was, during the late Republic, when Marius, Sulla, Pompey, Caesar, Anthony and Octavian dominated.

Money, violence and politics seem to be peculiarly American concerns in some ways, and they are grandly on display in Chicago.  Yet it's also accomplished in the arts.  Literature and poetry, though sometimes harsh, flourished there.  It is one of the great homes of jazz, the peculiarly American musical form.  The rather brazen works of Picasso and Chagall seem very much at home there.

New York is a world capital (as I think Mailer called it).  Los Angeles may have become one as well.  They seem, sometimes, removed from the United States in certain ways.  Chicago does not, ever.  Chicago is the Great American City

The Thing that's (too?) Near the Place: Some Lessons to be Learned

There are many lessons to be learned from this, the amazing saga of the Thing (called sometimes a mosque, or an Islamic culture center with place of prayer, or something that's not a mosque) that's near--but not on--the Place (called sometimes Ground Zero, or the site on which the World Trade Center once stood, or the grave site).  One of them is that the application of intelligence rather than emotion results in certain conclusions which are useful in creating some perspective, and would have probably prevented the very unfortunate circumstances which now obtain.  If we remove the emotion, histrionics and posturing, I think we must conclude the following:

The law clearly allows the use.  That should be all the state has to say about the matter.  The law has nothing to do, and should have nothing to do, with encouraging the use or discouraging the use.  There is no legal issue.  First Amendment rights or other legal rights will not be violated regardless of whether the Thing is built near the Place.  First Amendment rights in any case can only be violated by the state.  So, those like Dr. Laura and others who claim their First Amendment rights are being violated whenever people get angry at them for saying something are, very simply, wrong.  Those who try to characterize this mess as being about the "freedom of religion" are either ignorant or disingenuous.  Those who claim that the Thing must be built near the Place because that's what the Constitution is all about are at best very misinformed.

Commentary by functionaries of the state (including politicians of all sorts) should be limited accordingly.  Their concern should only be with the law. They should limit comment to what the state can or cannot do, legally.  They may also, of course, urge a change in the law.  But that's all they should do.

There is no legal prohibition against people, even lots of people, disagreeing with a proposed real estate development of any kind. or doing so loudly, insistently, and even stupidly.  They may lobby their representatives to change the law if they desire.  The mere fact that they do so does not mean that they are bigots.  Whether they are bigots may be determined by what they say and how they act, but it doesn't follow they are bigots merely because they say the development is inappropriate or do something to stop it, within the law.  Those who claim that anyone who opposes the development is a bigot are wrong, and being provocative.

Those Muslims who hate the United States and wish it harm will not be convinced or influenced not to hate the United States or not to do it harm if the Thing is built near the Place.  They hate the United States and wish it harm for reasons unrelated to the Thing.

Those who believe all Muslims hate the United States and wish it harm have no reasonable basis on which to do so.

There is no reasonable basis on which to assert that the Thing is being funded by terrorists, nor is there any reason at this time to even wonder whether it is being funded by terrorists.  The developer has no obligation to provide information regarding funding for the project to anyone.

The controversy which has resulted could have been anticipated.  The developer must have known that the process of obtaining approval from the local authorities would make the project public, and that protests would be made.  For good or ill, this happens quite frequently with real estate developments of many kinds, not merely religious ones.  It happens when commercial developments believed to contain obnoxious uses are involved, when low-income housing is involved, when community based residential facilities are involved, when wind towers are involved.  Perhaps the developer thought there would be no problem; if so, the developer is paying for that rather foolish conclusion now.  If it was not anticipated, it should be clear to everyone, now, including the developer, that if the Thing is built near the Place there could be trouble, even though there should not be trouble.

The developer has a decision to make.  The developer must decide whether to continue with the building of the Thing near the Place, or elsewhere.  The developer is probably best advised not to listen to anyone on either side of the controversy.  The developer has no obligation to please either side.  The developer should consider what is in the best interests of the project.  That will depend on the goal of the project.  If the goal of the project is to build a fine Islamic Cultural Center with or without a mosque, that is not necessarily dependent on it being located near the Place.  It may be the most sensible location depending on the economics of the situation--that's something I don't know and have not seen addressed.  If that's the case, the developer must weigh the benefits against the risks in this complicated situation.  If it's not, the developer must still weigh the benefits against the risks and determine whether to take the project somewhere else.

It's the developer's decision to make. 

The Scope of Judicial Authority

The late philosopher Sidney Hook has some interesting things to say regarding the authority of the Supreme Court in his book Paradoxes of Freedom, published in 1987.  Essentially, he claims that the authority exercised by the Supremes in determining adopted legislation to be unconstitutional is (1) not granted by the Constitution, and (2) fundamentally undemocratic (perhaps anti-democratic is more appropriate).

Hook seems very fond of Thomas Jefferson.  I'm not.  I think he was very much a hypocrite, in various ways, and particularly regarding political power.  His actions when he had power were quite contrary to and went far beyond the limits he claimed so frequently should be placed on those who held power when he did not.  There's no doubting his significance in American history, though, or his brilliance.  In any case, his problems with the judiciary when he presided over the United States were many and serious, and I don't know that he was quite the objective analyst of judicial power Hook seems to think him to be.

Hook does have a point, though.  The Constitution doesn't appear to say anything regarding the power to hold legislation unconstitutional which was assumed by the Court long ago and is and has been exercised so avidly by it and lesser courts ever since.  And, there is something not very democratic about the Supremes, and the judiciary generally, having the last word regarding the validity and enforceability of legislation adopted by the duly elected representatives of the people.  The Supremes, of course, are appointed for life, and there is no significant check on them once they ascend, as it were, to the bench of the nation's highest court.  They may die or grow incapable, or may be subject to impeachment for high crimes and misdemeanors, but that is all.

Hook argues, rather persuasively I think, that the (legendary in some respects) Founders never intended this result. 

I think there are some controls in place.  I have rather more confidence in the force of precedent than Hook does, and think the judiciary is, generally in any case, naturally conservative in the sense that judges don't feel comfortable in actively tinkering with the law by the time they reach the higher courts.  The Supremes seem to have had the ability to control themselves in most cases (I know there are some who would disagree with me on this point).  But it's interesting to consider what would happen if a group of 5 or so determined "lawmakers" somehow found their way onto the Court, and began actively to strike down legislation in pursuit of a particular agenda which could not be justified in the manner legal decisions normally (but not in all cases) are supported at least on their face, i.e., by established law of some kind.

Just what could be done in that case?  Such activity doesn't seem to be in the nature of a high crime or misdemeanor.  I think all kinds of extra-legal pressures would be employed, assuming the agenda turns out to be unpopular.  But it would seem that the only legally effective recourse would be a constitutional amendment expressly restricting judicial authority.  There are of course other possibilities depending on how just extreme matters become, such as lower courts refusing to follow Supreme Court decisions, popular uprisings, dissolution of the Union, but I like to think that these are unlikely, even in our remarkable time.

The Magnificent Seven (American Philosophers)

There was quite a bit going on in American philosophy, starting in the late 19th century and extending well into the 20th.  These names stand out, I think:  C.S. Peirce, William James, John Dewey, Josiah Royce, Ralph Barton Perry, George Santayana and Roy Wood Sellars.

Santayana was actually born in Spain, of course, but spent only his early years there; his philosophical career can fairly be called American.  And, I don't mean to discount other American philosophers of prominence in the 20th century, some in the pragmatic tradition, some not.  But these seven seem to me to be of particular significance.  Perry and Sellars, unfortunately, are mostly forgotten, it seems.

They were all, naturally enough, influenced by the theory of evolution.  They were all not religious in any traditional sense.  They all had concerns which related to practical and social (science, education, politics, art, law) matters in addition to any concern they may have had with the "special" metaphysical or epistemological concerns of philosophy which seem, to me at least, so apart from the way we live our lives (Peirce perhaps can be said to have had more of an interest in certain of the "special" concerns than the others, but as the creator of the pragmatic method he was something of a revolutionary and turned the focus of those concerns to us and the world in which we live, and away from futile speculations induced by the tendency to "doubt in philosophy what we do not doubt in our hearts").  And, they all felt philosophers could, as philosophers, address those concerns; and they addressed them.

One wonders if the time in which they worked contributed to their emphasis on the real.  There were great changes being made in technology, the character of America was changing with massive immigration, there was the Great War, the new movements in art, music and literature.  The world was rather hard to ignore.  Some think we live in a similar time.  Perhaps we'll be fortunate, and we'll encounter similar minds.

Of course, they differed in very significant respects as well.  But they were all participants in an effort to "recover" philosophy, to use Dewey's word, to addressing the "problems of men" to use Dewey's phrase.  I think that philosophy may have returned to the contemplation of the practically useless for a time.  But there are indications that might be changing.  In any case, I hope that's changing.

Of a Mosque in Manhattan

I've deliberately ignored the saga of the plans for a mosque near what the media insists on calling "Ground Zero" (as if it is the only such place) to the extent reasonably possible.  This isn't to say I'm completely ignorant of it; I've simply tried to avoid what I assumed would be the incessant and relatively mindless chattering of politicians, pundits and preachers on the subject.  Now that it appears it will take place, for the time being in any case, I feel an inclination to comment on the matter, so bear with me (or don't, if you like).

Since Congress in its wisdom adopted the strangely named Religious Land Use and Incarcerated Persons Act (RLUIPA), local governments which prohibit the use of land for religious purposes may find themselves experiencing the delights of litigation in the federal court.  Local governments are precluded from doing so except when they can establish good cause which must, of course, have nothing to do with the contemplated religious use.  The law has very real, and sharp, teeth.  Successful litigants may be awarded costs and attorneys fees, and even punitive damages in some cases, in addition to a court order that the planned use be allowed.

It's not very surprising, then, that permission was granted.  It would be difficult in this case to establish that a refusal to grant permission had nothing to do with the religious nature (the Islamic nature) of the contemplated use, and litigation would likely have resulted on a refusal.  It may still result now, though I'm not sure what the basis for any action would be.

There seems to be no basis in the law on which objection to the use can be made.  Are there other bases?

This can't legitimately be said to be the equivalent of establishing the headquarters of a neo-Nazi party next to Auschwitz, I think.  Those who carried out the 9/11 attacks are evidently not representative of Islam.  Still, it's hard not to think that those who intend to build this mosque suffer, at the least, from an insensitivity which is monumental.  It's also difficult to believe that those who intend to build the mosque were unaware of the fact that the community would find it very objectionable.

Why, then, decide to place the mosque in this location?  Unless it's the case that it simply could not be placed anywhere else (and I don't know this has been established), one must wonder regarding the intent involved.  It's likely that the mosque will be a site of protest and controversy (and possibly even violence) for quite some time to come; this would be the expectation of any reasonable person, I think.  Why would those involved in this development invite such a result, if they had any alternative?  These are questions which inevitably come to mind, and it would not be surprising in these emotionally charged circumstances that some of those who consider these questions infer that some disagreeable intent is involved, and act accordingly.

I don't particularly like RLUIPA, as I think it creates a de facto preference for religious land use (de jure too, I suppose) and I don't think the state should be involved in favoring religious use in this manner, regardless of the nature of the religion involved.  I don't think it is "wrong" (immoral) that a mosque be built in this case, but I think a case can be made that it is unwise and even offensive, and that unfortunate results may be anticipated.  It therefore seems to make no sense to build a mosque at this location.

If Only We Would Stop Thinking

The apparent prejudice many of those thought to be great figures in our intellectual history have against the "real world" and our interaction with it continues to baffle me.  I wonder, though, if any such figure can be a more impressive example of the problems which result from this prejudice than Henri Bergson.  There is something amazing about Bergson.  He is a thinker who wants us to stop thinking.

He seems to recognize that we think, normally, very much in the way that a Deweyian Pragmatist would maintain that we do.  In other words, when we think, we do so with a purpose in mind; we wish to solve a problem or attain some other end.  When we think well, critically and analytically, we achieve practical results, and this is good in a way, he admits.  But this seems an admission he makes only grudgingly.  This is the way we proceed on a common sense basis, and also when we're doing science.  We obtain great benefits as a consequence.  But this simply is not good enough.

If I understand him correctly (and it is sometimes difficult to believe he's being serious) thinking prevents us from truly knowing anything.  Our thoughts, and particularly our language, prevent us from discerning what is truly "real."  In thinking, we interpose constructs in place of the real.  Worse, we focus on certain things to the exclusion of others.  By focusing on one thing in particular, we fail to acknowledge other things (we fail to know them).  And, as we focus on things for a purpose, we can never know even that thing.  We must stop this business of thinking if we're going to really know.  Philosophers should know what is truly real.  So, philosophers should stop thinking.

We can only know what is truly real by intuiting it, in some fashion that is not described, and probably can't be described, as that would involve the use of language and that troublesome tendency to think we indulge in all too often.  Bergson is reduced to employing analogy as a means to communicate what cannot be communicated.  It's all rather Zen, in a way.

He apparently maintains that the way in which memory functions supports his view.  His view of memory seems rather antiquated, however.  Specifically, references to the fact that we can, under hypnosis or otherwise, recall past events in minute detail may not be as persuasive as intended given the phenomenon of "false memory."

What I find marvelous about this (not in a good way) is the extent to which it divorces what we are and what we do from what is claimed to be true, and ultimately worthy.  The fact that we are a "thinking animal" becomes for Bergson a problem.  It prevents us from knowing.  We can't even console ourselves by lauding scientific achievements.  Presumably, as these result from extended thought and analysis, they merely emphasize the fact that we fail to know what is real.  It seems the more we achieve, the more we think, the less we know.

What can Bergson mean?  Let's acknowledge that one can, through meditation and mindfulness, for example, experience oneself and the rest of reality in a manner different from the manner we normally do when we're golfing or working on a project of some kind.  When we focus on a particular task, it certainly can legitimately be argued we ignore other things, people, occurrences.  Is this all he means?  If so, why infer from such commonplaces some dramatic theory that we cannot know what is truly real?

There is something dangerous about this view.  It encourages thoughtlessness.  It seems to encourage mysticism, and the irrational.  If we can't know what is true by thinking, particularly analytic or critical thinking, how is it possible to make judgments regarding what is true or what we know?  On what basis would we distinguish between the intuitions of person X or those of person Y, and indeed, why would we want to do so?

I'm simplifying, of course.  Bergson seems to believe philosophers will be able to communicate with each other in some fashion regarding the real and true.  And he thinks, and analyzes, and reasons, and does all those things we shouldn't do, he claims, to truly know what is real.  He was a human being, after all, and that is what we do, very naturally, though sometimes we do it well and sometimes we don't.  Why does he and why do others feel we shouldn't do what humans do, quite naturally, and--worse yet?--do it well?