Speaking Of That Regarding Which We Must be Silent

If a person knows anything about Wittgenstein, it's likely they know, at least, that he wrote in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus the famous sentence generally translated as:  "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one should be silent."

Wittgenstein was the favorite philosopher of one of my philosophy professors in college, and so I devoted some time to reading his works, but what I read at that time were his later works, specifically The Blue and Brown Books and Philosophical Investigations.  I ventured into the Tractatus later, on my doubtless uncomprehending own.  Wittgenstein seems to have been given to gnomic and almost oracular pronouncements, which is something I've found frustrating.  His later works as we know them are apparently the joint work product (as we lawyers say) of devoted students and others in the sense they are based on notes of his classes, just as what we know of the teachings of Epictetus are based on the notes of his student, Arrian.  This may account for some of the difficulty I've had deciphering his later works, but the Tractatus as I understand it is his and his alone, so I can't blame my difficulties with that work on the errant scribblings of students.  I can take comfort, however, in the fact that Wittgenstein is known to have complained that Bertrand Russell did not understand what Wittgenstein  was doing although he wrote an introduction to that book.  From what I read of Wittgenstein's character, my guess is he felt that quite a few people didn't understand what he was doing.

His command that philosophers be silent is peculiarly satisfying in many ways, but it seems that in issuing this command he meant that they should stop trying to deal with many of what have traditionally been considered the great philosophical problems, and they show no sign of doing so, for good or ill.  For my part, I find this command insightful and wise to the extent it is intended to limit philosophical inquiry into certain questions or problems which philosophical inquiry has failed to resolve for centuries, and to the extent to which it recognizes that there are certain aspects of our lives which cannot be usefully addressed in words.

There is nothing necessarily wrong, or unreal, about these latter things because words just don't quite work in their case.  I tend to think that everything is part of "reality", even those things which we don't normally contend are "real."  For example, dreams or hallucinations are as much a part of our existence, or experience, as anything else.  They differ from other things we experience because they are dreams and hallucinations.  This doesn't make them any less real, though it makes them different.

Among the things words are not useful in addressing are experiences of transcendence, wonder, "oneness" with nature, and "God."  Wittgenstein also mused, I think, that certain things must be shown.  I think this is true, in the sense that some of the most intense and profound experiences I've had along these lines have been the result of things that I saw, usually startlingly beautiful landscapes:  Mount Nevis at sunset, crowned with a cloud; the stars over the ocean from a balcony in St. John, U.S.V.I; an entirely cloudless sunset over the ocean in Key West; a misty sunrise in the Appalachian mountains; a meadow in the Alps; beautiful blue lakes surrounded by trees exploding in glorious color on a perfect Indian Summer day seen from Bearskin Trail south of Minocqua, Wisconsin.

What is felt in those circumstances is no less real than anything else, and I don't see how this can be denied.  Does what is felt in such circumstances mean something?  Clearly it does.  What does it mean?  I'm not sure.  Do such feelings indicate the existence of something beyond or in addition to what is seen?  Not in any rational sense, and it's through the use of reason and scientific method that we've learned the most about the universe in which we live.  But I question whether the use of reason and scientific method is necessary in all cases.  It may be that they, like words, cannot usefully be employed in addressing certain things which we nevertheless feel or experience.

Not Asking, Telling or Caring

It seems "don't ask, don't tell" (which our media, at least, insists on designating as "DADT") is done--DADTID?  It was a strange policy, motivated by apparent concerns which I've always thought strange as well.

I've never understood the view, which is apparently still held by some, that gays don't make good soldiers.  It seems to have no basis in anything resembling reality.  History informs us of the Sacred Band of Thebes, reputedly magnificent warriors, and there is always the ultimate warrior of antiquity, Achilles, and Alexander, whom we know was a great military leader if only because "great" is part of the name by which he is known.  The cavalry of ancient Rome was said by some to be the branch of its military favored by gays.

If there is no basis on which to believe gays make bad soldiers (and the very idea that certain "groups" make bad soldiers is odd) what is/was the concern which motivated the policy, or any policy prohibiting a military career to the gays?  Fear that passes will be made on unsuspecting heterosexuals?  Hasn't Nancy Reagan had the answer for this (and of course drugs) for some time now?  If sexual assault is the concern, is there any reason to believe gays are more inclined to this than straights?  If the concern is that unfortunate prejudices will create discord, that would seem to justify all sorts of exclusions.

I don't really know just how the end of this policy will effect the processing of people into the military, but hope that the result will be that no inquiry whatsoever is made into sexual preferences.  We Americans have been fascinated by sex for far too long (perhaps this is part of our being a "Christian Nation").  I also like to think that no need is felt by any soldier (or other person) to trumpet his/her sexuality.  Simply put, sexual preference shouldn't be a concern in such circumstances.

We are an odd nation in some senses, when you think of it, that sex should be an overwhelming political concern, i.e. one which our legislators must address when there are other, seemingly more important, concerns to address.  We've always been fixated on the personal conduct of others in such matters as sex, drugs, and alcohol and have spent far too much time and money trying to regulate that conduct.  We must learn to accept the fact that this is one of many things government can't do for us.

Pondering the Holiday Season

A fairly impressive snow storm which is keeping me in my house and deprived it of electrical power for about seven hours has reminded me that I live in the northern region of these incomparable united states, and leads me to wonder while I still do so.  It has also served to remind me, along with many other things, that it is what we like to call the Holiday Season, or perhaps I should say the Christmas Season, in order to mesh more fully with those who amuse themselves (and others, I suspect) with the belief that there is a "War on Christmas."  As most if not all of the wars in which we Americans have involved ourselves since 1945 have been long, grim and futile (one thinks of the "War on Poverty" or the "War on Drugs" if not the wars in which our combat troops engage), I'm inclined to believe the "War on Christmas" if there is such a thing will be much the same.

"Christmas" most appropriately rhymes with "Mithras", the Persian God who was born, of a virgin mother, on December 25th while shepherds watched even as other shepherds were apparently watching the birth of the Christ-child.  These two contemporaneous and happy events were a source of confusion in ancient times gradually rectified with the triumph, as it were, of Christianity.  This should be common knowledge, just as it should be common knowledge that the propensity to exchange gifts and engage in festivities this time of year has its foundation in a variety of pre-Christian holidays and rituals.  Historians scratch their heads over the claim that Caesar ordered all in his empire to return to their places of birth for census purposes and various other claims made in those remarkable documents we call the New Testament, but ultimately this and the other oddities which make up the traditional Christmas Story (I can't help but wonder where the little drummer boy came from) are not pertinent to my purpose.

We've celebrated this season for quite some time, which I think is well and good.  There is nothing wrong with celebrating.  It can even be fun.  It can be great fun for children, especially.  It can make us feel good about each other, and even dream of world peace, for a time, much like a good stiff drink or two.  Why not leave it at that?

I'm not sure just what those who ask us to remember the "true meaning" of Christmas intend, frankly.  This may be a result of the fact that I'm not inclined to take what is called the Christmas Story literally.  However, if I did take it literally, I'm not sure just how this would effect my conduct or that of others.  I would presumably be joyous, just the same, and in much the same way.  Would I be less inclined to buy presents for people, attend Christmas parties, etc.?  I don't think so.  Perhaps I would spend more time in church, sing certain songs more feelingly.  After all, it's not time to feel bad yet; that comes with Good Friday, or perhaps Lent, but then we're supposed to be joyful on Easter, in any case.  Sad, then glad; glad, then sad.  That's the way of it.

I rather doubt there is any "true meaning" and think we err in searching for it in Christmas just as we err in seeking it elsewhere.  It's all true, in the sense that it all happens, good and bad.  We may ponder "true meaning" all we like, but would be better off acting as if we believed in peace and brotherhood than if we were waiting for someone to come and impose it on us.

A problem in believing in saviors is that we wait to be saved.

Thoughts on Secrecy and Self-Appointed Guardians

Wikileaks and its strangely wraith-like front man, Julian Assange, may be many things, good and bad, but it can be said of them, at least, that they and what they represent should be the objects of serious thought.

Secrecy in government or business, or perhaps in anything, is not prima facie admirable.  Most of us would consider it "good" to be open and honest at almost all times.  The truly good person (it's no doubt been said by someone, sometime) wouldn't fear exposure of any act on their part (there are few, if any, truly good persons, however).  When we are being secretive we are necessarily hiding something from someone, or if not actively doing so we are failing to disclose something.  This seems dishonest in some sense, and the question why we are being secretive naturally arises, and should be addressed.

For me if for nobody else, self-appointed guardians of humanity are not prima facie admirable, either.  Those who consider themselves our saviors, or watch dogs and protectors necessarily believe themselves to be, in some sense, better than the rest of us, or that the rest of us are in some fashion deficient where they are not.  That is why we need saviors, watch dogs and protectors, of course.  They consider themselves nobler or at least more intelligent than those poor souls they are destined to enlighten.  And, of course, they think that there is something or someone from which we must be protected.  They are consumed by the need to find out evil in order to protect us from its horrible consequences.

Regardless, both secrecy and self-appointed guardians can be useful in certain cases.  Only an absolutist would deny this, and the absolutists among us are most be be feared.  Whether they're useful will depend on the circumstances, just as most other things will.  That's not to say that all things are relative (a very annoying phrase employed far too often by people who don't seem to know what it means) but it is to say that consequences are significant, and circumstances effect consequences.

We don't seem to have any evidence indicating as of this time that some discernible, significant harm has directly resulted from the disclosures made by Wikileaks.  As far as I'm aware, it hasn't been maintained that anyone has died or been injured in some fashion as a result of the huge data dumps which have been made, and all that's been admitted to is embarrassment, something which can be becoming in a government official.  We are being exposed to more of the shrill hysterics which seem to typify certain actors on the national and world stage, but this will pass, and they will find something else regarding which they may strike whatever attitudes and adopt whatever postures they deem appropriate.

As far as I know, however, there is no evidence indicating that any significant benefit has resulted, either.  Perhaps I'm too cynical, and I certainly haven't read all that's been disclosed and never will, but I have at least heard of nothing which I find very surprising, let alone shocking.   I find it difficult to believe anyone else would be surprised or shocked by what has been disclosed.

Absent any harm, is there anything for which Wikileaks should be blamed?  Absent any benefit, is there anything for which it should be praised?

If laws have been broken, that's a serious concern, especially given the fact that there seems thus far at least to be no good reason for breaking them (that's where benefit might come in).  Even more concerning to me is the fact that there is no control over our self-appointed guardian in this case or what it may think appropriate to obtain by any means from anyone and hurl at the world at large.  Uncontrolled power in the hands of any person (including government officials) who thinks they are better or know better than anyone else is frightening.

We all have done, said or written things which we regret.  Should these be subject to disclosure in any circumstances?  One would hope not, unless there was good reason to do so.  Who should determine whether that reason exists?  What sources of information should be subject to raiding for purposes of disclosure?  Should Wikileaks or some other zealous protector of the race have the freedom to obtain whatever information from whatever source it desires and disclose what it feels should be disclosed?

I would say not.  We lawyers speak of "fishing expeditions" where efforts are made without a reasonable basis to obtain information in the hope that something damning will appear.  Zealous protectors thrive on fishing expeditions.

Where wrongdoing is exposed as a result of this kind of effort, it makes no sense to claim it shouldn't have been disclosed.  But governments can do to each of us much the same sort of thing Wikileaks is doing to them.  Neither governments nor Wikileaks or any other person or organization should have the unlimited discretion to do so.