Dis Manibus Sacrum

These words appeared on Roman tombstones, even into the Christian era.  Sometimes, only the words "Dis Manibus" were used, sometimes only the initials, D M (the Romans were partial to abbreviations, particularly when it came to the strenuous and no doubt expensive business of putting letters on stone or marble).  To the spirits of the dead.  We come to another Memorial Day.

It is a day on which we are to remember those who have died, especially those who have died while members of, or who are or have served in, the armed forces.  Instead, some of us spend the day golfing (as did your humble writer of posts on this blog) or in parades or seeing relatives; it is after all a holiday.  There are memorials I should visit and would like to visit, regardless of their service.  My grandparents are buried near the graves of Al Capone and Frank Nitti and among others who were of Italian descent and were in Chicago when they died.  Many of my parents' generation served in the armed forces; some dead, some yet to die.

I did not.  I turned 18 during the Vietnam War, and duly registered for the draft but was not drafted.  I came of draft age during the latter part of that war, and less and less of us were being selected.  I went to college and so no doubt was subject to deferments.  I think I would have served if drafted.

In the increasingly distant days of my youth, those who served were not honored as they should have been.  Now it seems they are, but because we feel (those of the Vietnam era especially, perhaps) we have not done so as appropriate in the past, we may be said to overdo it, strange as that may seem.  That is due to the the seemingly constant use of the word "heroes."  This devalues the word.  When everyone is a hero, there are few heroes, properly speaking.  It has become a kind of cant, unfortunately.  There is something disturbing about the constant reference to anyone who wears a uniform as being a hero, even something insincere, perhaps even patronizing.  We have become like Uriah Heep, but instead of being perpetually humble we perpetually tout our many heroes. 

That those who serve do something honorable is clear.  That they put themselves in harm's way when in combat is apparent.  So we should honor them, but I don't think we do so when we call all of them heroes, as a matter of course. 

Honoring the dead is an odd business.  They're beyond our ceremonies.  Nonetheless we give them honor and have done so apparently throughout our history.  It is one of our peculiarities.  Creatures are deemed human when they begin to do this for, or to, their dead.  It is a cliche that our ceremonies for the dead are in fact for the living, but in the past there was a real concern that the dead would not take a lack of respect kindly, and would make this known.

Honoring the dead is just something that we do.  I wonder if we do so merely as a custom derived from an ancient fear.  I think, though, that we believe it to be something that should be done.  A sense of duty is involved.  It's one of those "shoulds" which raise questions regarding duty, regarding the role of ethics and morality in our lives.  I'm surprised I know of no philosopher who has done so, but think there must be one who has or does.  It may be similar to altruism, as we can expect no benefit from the dead, beyond the fact that they will, if placated and given their customary honors, not cause us concern.  Somehow, though, they always seem to do just that.

P.S.  I see someone named Chris Hayes of MSNBC has got himself into trouble for expressing discomfort with the use of the word "hero."  His error, I think, was to question its use to describe fallen soldiers (instead of to anyone who has ever worn a uniform), but more importantly to speculate that the use of the word may be used to glorify war and is being used to justify "more war."  I think not.  The days when we sought war in order to die a heroic death are over for most of us, and I doubt those who seek to justify war, to the extent they exist, mean to do so by urging us to die in one.

Pennies from Heaven

I tend to read a fair amount, and being somewhat eclectic in my reading (at least when it comes to politics) I sometimes read National Review just as I sometimes read The New Republic, and sometimes Reason and sometimes The Nation.  I came across an article in National Review which attempted to make the interesting point that conservatives would be well advised to tout capitalism for moral reasons as well as, or perhaps even more so than, for reasons related to its purported efficiency as a tool for creation of wealth.   The author noted that the Right is at a disadvantage because the Left typically attacks capitalism on moral grounds but the Right fails to defend it from such attacks.  Appeals to morals are generally more persuasive than appeals to efficiency is, essentially, the argument made.  Therefore, the Left is winning the ideological battle , because it positions itself on the moral high ground and the Right makes no effort to take it.

Just what, though, is compellingly moral about capitalism?  Well, it can be said that it is founded on the idea that we should all have the benefits of our own labor, and on the idea that those who work harder and more efficiently are entitled to more than those who don't, and on the idea that those who demand benefits while not inclined to work for them shouldn't receive those benefits, particularly to the disadvantage of others.  It can be maintained, then, that capitalism's moral basis is its appeal to and incorporation of the concept of fairness.

There is a certain danger in this approach, though, if it is used to justify the great accumulation of wealth by some in light of the poverty of others.  Even those of the Right must recognize that it is at least conceivable that some are poor not due to their own laziness but for other reasons and that many of the wealthy have far more than they could possibly need to live comfortably.  Is it fair that some have such wealth while others do not?  What use is such wealth, unless one is interested in living a life of unmitigated self-indulgence?  Does the fact that the extremely wealthy worked for their wealth (if that is the case) justify their retention of that wealth for no reason but for the fact it is their wealth?

The call for the moral justification of capitalism is presumably prompted by the hue and cry over taxing the rich more than others (said to be unfair, or class warfare), and fears that our President and his cohorts are determined to socialize the United States and redistribute wealth.   But the Right has a difficult task in front of it in this respect, as it is difficult, very difficult sometimes, to sympathize with the "plight" of the wealthy.

For someone like me, who has concerns regarding government regulation of our lives, the idea of the government stepping in to assure that all is right and well is frightening.  The belief that government should do this goes back at least to Plato, a kind of archetypal anti-democrat.  He was rather fond of analogies, and one of them was that of the ship; the ship of state.  We wouldn't trust a novice to sail a ship, we would want an expert captain to do so.  Only such a captain would have the knowledge to guide the ship safely to its destination.  We need an expert to captain the ship of state.  We wouldn't want the passengers to do so, would we?

The problem is that in Plato's system, and I fear in the case of any government which considers itself to be the best judge of what is good for its citizens, the captain of the ship not only sails the ship, the captain determines where it is to go as well.  Normally, of course, if we charter a ship we wouldn't presume to operate it, but we would expect it to go where we want it to go, not where the captain and crew think we should go.

I think that if the Right wants to make a moral case for capitalism, it will have to proceed cautiously, especially as to claims of fairness.  The Right must resign itself to the fact that there is nothing admirable about the accumulation of great wealth, i.e. wealth beyond that needed for someone to live comfortably and assure that those one loves may do so as well.  The claim sometimes made by the defenders of the wealthy that they "create jobs" will not play well, and it is questionable that most of them do this unless they invest that wealth, which would seem to require that they part with it.  In these times especially, we can't rely on pennies falling from their pockets like those once dreamed to be falling from heaven. 

For one who professes to be a Stoic, the accumulation of wealth would seem to be the accumulation of things which are indifferent, to which we should be indifferent.  It would seem to lessen the chance of attaining wisdom and serenity, and increase the chance of corruption of mind and body.  This is of course the great problem Seneca had in claiming to be a Stoic.  Someone who tries to be a Stoic in these times walks on an edge, like many others do.  The accumulation of wealth, and the wealthy, are not admirable, but for government to take their property or restrict their liberty is not admirable either.  How, then, should we proceed?

Love and Marriage

They go together like a horse and carriage, as we know.  And if a horse and carriage is like a marriage, why not gay marriage?

I'm being silly, of course.  But as our President has caused the issue to raise its head again, as it were, I feel given to expound on it.  He is an able politician; he says that he is in favor of it but thinks the states should decide whether or not it should be legal.  The best of both worlds in the political universe, it would seem.

I heard on the radio recently the argument that gay marriage should be allowed as it involves the pursuit of happiness, one of the "inalienable" rights identified in the Declaration of Independence of our Glorious Republic.  The drafters of that remarkable document, being lawyers, were careful not to state that happiness itself is a right.  If one considers our society litigious now, just imagine what it would be like if we could sue for being deprived of happiness.

So, we have only the right to pursue happiness, it seems.  If a gay person wants to pursue happiness by marriage, should not he/she have a right to do so?

Well, the pursuit of happiness is subject to some limitations.  One can't pursue it through fraud, for example, or criminal conduct.  Not quite the same thing, though, I hope all would agree.  But the law also imposes restrictions on conduct in other circumstances, purportedly for the public health and welfare.

No doubt those who oppose gay marriage would claim that it is detrimental to the public health and welfare in some manner.  It's hard to imagine, though, how it would be any more detrimental than marriage is now.  The contentions being made regarding the "sanctity" of marriage are laughable.  It should be obvious that marriage is not, at least in the law, a sacred or holy relationship, nor should it be.  It should also be obvious that it is not treated as such by most of us, or is at most treated as a sacred and holy relationship which may be revoked at will and is revoked by many in fact; in other words, not very sacred and holy at all.

I've voiced the opinion in this blog and elsewhere that it would be useful if the word "marriage" was not used in the law, i.e. that all marriages be considered "civil unions" or "domestic partnerships" or something along those lines.  That would only make sense, as for purposes of the law they are nothing more than partnerships of a special kind, which operate and are construed as business partnerships in most ways.  This would it is to be hoped release us from claims being made that marriage has some kind of unique status, which cannot be sullied in any fashion.  Claims made in the context of the law, that is to say.  Religions may treat them as holy as they like.  However, what they do would and should make no difference to the law.  Whatever penalties or prohibitions a religion may impose as to marriage may be imposed, provided that they are not relevant to legal status, rights and responsibilities.

But I daresay someone would claim that this is caving in to bigotry, or that marriage does, indeed, have a special status in the law, as some federal judges have held, which renders it in a manner I find bewildering different from civil unions in the law, and that this special status should be made open to all.

Words do indeed have power.  But sometimes they are accorded too much power over us.

Idee Fixe

Some time ago across the indifferent centuries someone became convinced that in order for us to rely on what knowledge we have, we must identify the foundation for that knowledge.  Whoever it was who did so also came to the conclusion (how, one wonders?) that in order for that foundation to be secure, to itself be reliable, that foundation had to be basic, simple, derived from nothing else.  If it was derivative in some sense this would have to be due to the fact that it resulted from some form of interpretation on our part, and how could we rely on that?  Our interpretation would necessarily be of something.  What reason do we have to believe that something is true or real or certain?

Because it was assumed that we can only rely on something singular, or stand-alone, and somewhat grudgingly believed that we can only know things through experience, effort was made to identify just what it is that we really and directly and essentially experience.  Some said sense-data, some said only an idea of sense data.  Some said other things.

That someone started something, obviously, and we have been in some senses paying for it ever since.  We have been busy manufacturing that essential thing that is the foundation for our knowledge.  The effort to determine that foundation is, one would think, impossible; once one begins to think in this fashion (if one has that misfortune), one is seemingly bound to maintain that our analysis of the issue is itself "tainted" at the outset.  That's because our thought is already based on what we think we know and can rely on, and we can't know or rely on anything without establishing that the foundation for what we know is secure.

Perhaps this is what brought Kant and others to conclude that there's something a priori in our minds or elsewhere, and resulted in the view that we can never really know the "external world" which I remarked on in the prior post or that we "shape" that annoying and persistent world we are fated to encounter in one way or another.

Regardless, if we are fated not to know what the "external world" really is, then we are so fated, whether we like it or not.  If we are not so fated, then we are not so fated, whether we like it or not.

I myself am reasonably convinced that the "external world" is pretty much as we think it is, i.e. as our minds, senses, experience and devices indicate.  That we have much more to learn about I take as a given, but that doesn't mean we can't rely on what we have learned.  When thinking of knowledge, I think of it not in abstract, not as in the nature of a thing, but a process employed by us in our daily lives.  I tend to think most of us think this way, in the rare instances when we think of knowledge instead of using our knowledge in some manner.

As is no doubt apparent to those who have taken the time to read this blog, I'm confounded by philosophy's concern with matters which seem to make no difference, and especially with matters that cannot make any difference, to how we live. It would seem to me to be a worthy subject for investigation, but I'm unaware of any. If any of those who do me the honor of reading these musings know of any, I'd appreciate a reference. I'm increasingly convinced this concern--fascination may be a more appropriate word--has a psychological basis.

It is unfortunate, but I think this concern has played its part in convincing many that philosophy is irrelevant, or an idle pastime, or dead.  That is tragic.  But philosophy doesn't have to be any of those things, and there are philosophers who have and are interested in making a difference in how we live.  Most of them lived in ancient times, when philosophy was considered vital even by the powerful.  Somewhere along the way, philosophy became distracted, to our detriment.