I refer to Quietism in philosophy, not religion, and by Quietism in philosophy I refer to that view of certain philosophers that traditional issues of philosophy cannot or should not be the subject of debate or dispute, because they result from confusion due to imprecise or improper use of language, false assumptions, bad analogies, needless quests for absolute certainty. Wittgenstein, I suppose, was a great proponent of Quietism. J. L. Austin and Gilbert Ryle also come to mind. I think certain pragmatists were, as well.
It is a view I find seductive, or at least persuasive. Philosophers have been debating issues related to reality, knowledge, the good, the beautiful and propounding great systems regarding them for centuries, and it seems all for nought, and nothing is resolved; the same questions are still asked, and debated, and other, different, systems are propounded in what seems an endless profusion. Quietist (if there is such a word) philosophers have in many cases successfully (I think) demonstrated that much of this disputation and much of this grand systematizing is the result of confusion and imprecision in the use of language, or have otherwise pointed out that such questions as are being asked should not be asked, or are not really questions to begin with, and such problems as are being addressed by philosophers are not really problems.
I also question whether these traditional philosophical questions are worthy of further consideration. But then I find myself asking what would happen if they are no longer addressed by philosophers. If there is no philosophical pursuit of such questions (pursuit by philosophers, I mean) would this not leave the field open to those who are not philosophers? Philosophers at least endeavor to employ reason, and a method of analysis, to questions. Regardless of their success in answering them, should we not encourage the use of reason in the effort to answer the "great questions" rather than see them made the exclusive domain and concern of the mystical...the irrational?
Would that be the result of philosophy's abandonment of these issues, though? To the extent that people look to philosophers for anything these days when it comes to such questions, it seems they look to dead philosophers. This makes a kind of sense. It doesn't seem very likely that philosophers will come to conclusions regarding such questions that have not already been arrived at by the philosophers of the past (except, perhaps, the conclusions arrived at by the Quietists, and even those are of the past). Those who are mystics and are inclined to look to the irrational for answers to such questions probably will not even think to consider the work of living philosophers.
So, I don't think we need worry that most people will embrace the irrational in addressing the great, traditional philosophical questions, because of the efforts of the Quietists. But what of those who are not "most people"? What of philosophers themselves, or that amorphous class of people we call "intellectuals"?
There, I fear, the damage has already been done, in the sense that some philosophers, and many intellectuals, apparently have come to distrust and denigrate reason, and propound the irrational (e.g., postmodernists). This started, I think, in the late 19th century and extended into the 20th century and this anti-reason tendency carries on today, though it may be suffering a setback. Suggestively, this tendency is more or less contemporaneous with Quietism.
For good or ill, philosophers and intellectuals have a certain degree of influence. And by questioning reasoning, or science, as some of them have done, they make it difficult to combat those who make contend that answers may be given to questions and problems may be solved in a manner contrary to reason and science. To what end do we claim that certain religious views, or certain customs or beliefs, are unreasonable, or make no sense, if we insist and are on record saying there is no way of establishing, really, that is the case?
This is something that causes a legitimate concern. I'm not sure this is something which has resulted from Quietism, though. There is nothing in Quietism which encourages the denigration of reason as far as I can see. Reason is above all a method. Quietists may well contend that reason is not or should not be applied to the "great questions" because doing so is fruitless, but it doesn't follow from this that it is not usefully and beneficially applied to other questions and other problems.
Quietism doesn't require the abandonment of reason, then. It suggests only that it is misapplied in certain cases.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
The Art Which Teaches Us How to Live
Montaigne asked an interesting question: "Since philosophy is the art which teaches us how to live, and since children need to learn it as much as we do at other ages, why do we not instruct them in it?"
Whether philosophy is any longer the art Montaigne thought it to be is debatable. It appears that for many it is not, though I don't delight in making that statement. I'm not entirely certain what it is, but whatever it may now be the thought of it being taught to children is absurd. It is not so much that it would be beyond their comprehension; it is that even if they could comprehend it, they would find it useless in teaching them how to live, and education would seem to have a good deal with teaching how to live. I would maintain that how to live remains for children and adults a question of vital (ignoring for the moment that word's derivation) importance.
I think it's fair to say that philosophy was thought to teach us how to live for a very long time, from the time of Socrates to the time of Montaigne and perhaps even beyond that. How to live seems no longer to be its concern, though. It seems to have detached itself from considerations of conduct. It is concerned with other things, things which because they are unrelated to how to live render it less vital almost by definition.
Now this line of thought presumes that "live" has a certain meaning to which the adverb "how" properly applies. When we ask "How?" in relation to "live" (which is not merely a state) we are asking in what manner, in what way? If we inquire into in what manner or in what way we are to live, we are inquiring in to how to conduct ourselves, i.e. how to act of not act. How to act or whether not to act is a consideration which relates to certain circumstances. It would not be a consideration where there are no circumstances. How to act or whether to act is a consideration we encounter all the time, while alive, because by living we interact necessarily with others and the rest of the world and that interaction requires judgment and action.
But if how to act or whether to act are not the concern of philosophy, what is its concern? If it asks "how?" of anything it would seem to be addressing something which has occurred or is occurring, even if what is being inquired relates to a condition (e.g. "how do you feel?"). Why would it ask "how", though, in a manner which does not relate to what transpires while we are living? I don't think it can. So, if it does not address "how" just what does it address? Not "when", it seems.
"What", perhaps? What is thought, what is reality, what is the mind, what is a person, what are words, what do we mean by "what"? If that's the case, though, why does it ask "what"? What is the purpose of "What?" Is there no purpose, is this idle curiosity in the purest sense, the pursuit of knowledge with no end in view?
I don't think so. No matter how one may try to detach philosophy from what we do by living, it can't be done. This is because any question or issue we address is, obviously, one we raise due to the fact that we are living; it issues from that fact that we live, from what we do as living organisms. It is indeed one of the things we do as living organisms.
If philosophy cannot be detached from our lives as living organisms, though, may it not be applied in our lives, as it was in the past? In fact, must it not be so applied? If it must be so applied, do not considerations regarding what it would be most beneficial to apply it to necessarily arise? And should we not debate those considerations, and act upon the outcome of the debate?
Perhaps it is possible philosophy may, once more, become the art which teaches us how to live.
Whether philosophy is any longer the art Montaigne thought it to be is debatable. It appears that for many it is not, though I don't delight in making that statement. I'm not entirely certain what it is, but whatever it may now be the thought of it being taught to children is absurd. It is not so much that it would be beyond their comprehension; it is that even if they could comprehend it, they would find it useless in teaching them how to live, and education would seem to have a good deal with teaching how to live. I would maintain that how to live remains for children and adults a question of vital (ignoring for the moment that word's derivation) importance.
I think it's fair to say that philosophy was thought to teach us how to live for a very long time, from the time of Socrates to the time of Montaigne and perhaps even beyond that. How to live seems no longer to be its concern, though. It seems to have detached itself from considerations of conduct. It is concerned with other things, things which because they are unrelated to how to live render it less vital almost by definition.
Now this line of thought presumes that "live" has a certain meaning to which the adverb "how" properly applies. When we ask "How?" in relation to "live" (which is not merely a state) we are asking in what manner, in what way? If we inquire into in what manner or in what way we are to live, we are inquiring in to how to conduct ourselves, i.e. how to act of not act. How to act or whether not to act is a consideration which relates to certain circumstances. It would not be a consideration where there are no circumstances. How to act or whether to act is a consideration we encounter all the time, while alive, because by living we interact necessarily with others and the rest of the world and that interaction requires judgment and action.
But if how to act or whether to act are not the concern of philosophy, what is its concern? If it asks "how?" of anything it would seem to be addressing something which has occurred or is occurring, even if what is being inquired relates to a condition (e.g. "how do you feel?"). Why would it ask "how", though, in a manner which does not relate to what transpires while we are living? I don't think it can. So, if it does not address "how" just what does it address? Not "when", it seems.
"What", perhaps? What is thought, what is reality, what is the mind, what is a person, what are words, what do we mean by "what"? If that's the case, though, why does it ask "what"? What is the purpose of "What?" Is there no purpose, is this idle curiosity in the purest sense, the pursuit of knowledge with no end in view?
I don't think so. No matter how one may try to detach philosophy from what we do by living, it can't be done. This is because any question or issue we address is, obviously, one we raise due to the fact that we are living; it issues from that fact that we live, from what we do as living organisms. It is indeed one of the things we do as living organisms.
If philosophy cannot be detached from our lives as living organisms, though, may it not be applied in our lives, as it was in the past? In fact, must it not be so applied? If it must be so applied, do not considerations regarding what it would be most beneficial to apply it to necessarily arise? And should we not debate those considerations, and act upon the outcome of the debate?
Perhaps it is possible philosophy may, once more, become the art which teaches us how to live.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Settling in the Mould of our Vulgarity
Our long national nightmare of an election (apologies to Gerald Ford for this phrase; apologies to Robinson Jeffers for the title to this post) is over at last, and the result is: there is no result. Nothing has happened. The president is the same, the Senate is the same, the House is the same, and, alas, we are the same. We have the dubious assurance that not only has nothing happened, but nothing will happen, either, as it seems those who govern us will largely remain those who govern us, and nothing is to be expected from them. And as we remain governed by them, nothing may be expected from us.
Perhaps, in this case, nothing is better than something. One of the reasons our mildly interesting but not very inspiring president was the victor may well be the fact that the unfortunate Mr. Romney, who seems a pragmatist in the common sense of that word, was required to bleat comforting words to the increasingly isolated but disturbingly predominate, zealous, and backward members of the Republican party in order to gain his nomination. He was then required to tolerate, if not actively support, certain of them who ran for office and took it upon themselves to make indefensible and in some senses bizarre comments while doing so. He evidently felt it necessary to appear to be one of these anachronisms, until the final days of the race.
I like to think that if he had been elected, Romney would have managed at least to disregard the Floyd Turbos of his party. But anyone with a minimal grasp of reality must understand that such folk are increasingly becoming an (increasingly disgruntled) minority in the politics of the United States, and indeed the politics of the world in general. Social conservatism (as opposed to political conservatism) which demands the cooperation of the government in stopping change and social freedom is no longer viable, and should not be. The simple ignorance which is the basis for much of this is bound to dissipate. Too much information is available and accessible. Too much is changing and will change. One can no longer stand athwart history and yell "Stop!" in this respect, at least (apologies to William F. Buckley, Jr.)
It must also be acknowledged that there has been a certain hysteria involved in much of the criticism of our continuing president. It has been hyperbolic, exclamatory and even weird. He's a socialist, a traitor, a foreigner, a Muslim. There is little or nothing to back up such claims. My memory doesn't go back to the days of McCarthy; perhaps similar frenzy was the rule back then as well. But rhetoric of this kind is born of ignorance, hatred and fear of that which is different, and these emotions are not conducive to thought. They are, rather, conducive to efforts to repress.
Indeed, there is some indication that individual freedom from traditionalistic restraints gained ground in this election cycle; witness votes in favor of allowing gays to marry and legalizing marijuana. But other restraints remain, and the danger arising from the seemingly irrepressible urge of some to use government to save us from ourselves becomes more potent. Also, we're increasingly in thrall to the very wealthy and therefore very powerful, and this is the case because both Democrats and Republicans are nearly their feudal vassals. The Obama campaign is said to have received more money than the Romney campaign, and its doubtful that most of this came from the poor and disadvantaged. There are exceedingly rich people who are ideological Democrats, but just as interested in protecting and increasing their money and their ability to influence life because they have money as are ideological Republicans.
The fact that these two parties are essentially thralls to a small segment of the population and are interested in remaining so bound makes it difficult for third parties to exist and function in American politics, and this is one of the great defects of our system. It may be the case that Democrats are generally more sympathetic to the idea of change, but their idea of change is too often change through the imposition of government controls and restrictions. The Republicans maintain they seek limited government, but the limitations they seek to impose are too often limitations which have as their purpose benefiting only a few who are already benefited.
Thus far, it seems that most of us are content to let this continue. There will be no significant change until this changes.
Perhaps, in this case, nothing is better than something. One of the reasons our mildly interesting but not very inspiring president was the victor may well be the fact that the unfortunate Mr. Romney, who seems a pragmatist in the common sense of that word, was required to bleat comforting words to the increasingly isolated but disturbingly predominate, zealous, and backward members of the Republican party in order to gain his nomination. He was then required to tolerate, if not actively support, certain of them who ran for office and took it upon themselves to make indefensible and in some senses bizarre comments while doing so. He evidently felt it necessary to appear to be one of these anachronisms, until the final days of the race.
I like to think that if he had been elected, Romney would have managed at least to disregard the Floyd Turbos of his party. But anyone with a minimal grasp of reality must understand that such folk are increasingly becoming an (increasingly disgruntled) minority in the politics of the United States, and indeed the politics of the world in general. Social conservatism (as opposed to political conservatism) which demands the cooperation of the government in stopping change and social freedom is no longer viable, and should not be. The simple ignorance which is the basis for much of this is bound to dissipate. Too much information is available and accessible. Too much is changing and will change. One can no longer stand athwart history and yell "Stop!" in this respect, at least (apologies to William F. Buckley, Jr.)
It must also be acknowledged that there has been a certain hysteria involved in much of the criticism of our continuing president. It has been hyperbolic, exclamatory and even weird. He's a socialist, a traitor, a foreigner, a Muslim. There is little or nothing to back up such claims. My memory doesn't go back to the days of McCarthy; perhaps similar frenzy was the rule back then as well. But rhetoric of this kind is born of ignorance, hatred and fear of that which is different, and these emotions are not conducive to thought. They are, rather, conducive to efforts to repress.
Indeed, there is some indication that individual freedom from traditionalistic restraints gained ground in this election cycle; witness votes in favor of allowing gays to marry and legalizing marijuana. But other restraints remain, and the danger arising from the seemingly irrepressible urge of some to use government to save us from ourselves becomes more potent. Also, we're increasingly in thrall to the very wealthy and therefore very powerful, and this is the case because both Democrats and Republicans are nearly their feudal vassals. The Obama campaign is said to have received more money than the Romney campaign, and its doubtful that most of this came from the poor and disadvantaged. There are exceedingly rich people who are ideological Democrats, but just as interested in protecting and increasing their money and their ability to influence life because they have money as are ideological Republicans.
The fact that these two parties are essentially thralls to a small segment of the population and are interested in remaining so bound makes it difficult for third parties to exist and function in American politics, and this is one of the great defects of our system. It may be the case that Democrats are generally more sympathetic to the idea of change, but their idea of change is too often change through the imposition of government controls and restrictions. The Republicans maintain they seek limited government, but the limitations they seek to impose are too often limitations which have as their purpose benefiting only a few who are already benefited.
Thus far, it seems that most of us are content to let this continue. There will be no significant change until this changes.
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