I'm reading a book called The Death of the Mythic God: The Rise of Evolutionary Spirituality by Jim Marion.
Let's pause for a moment (humor me) and consider the use of "Jim" instead of "James" by the author. Such things prey upon my mind. Is the use of "Jim" an effort at self-effacement, or perhaps intended to to give the impression that the author, though we don't know him, is our buddy, our pal? A swell guy? I grow suspicious when encountering these diminutives in a name. I think of Jimmy Carter, and Bill Clinton, and other narcissists who have indulged in this ploy. If one is going to do such a thing and scorn the formality of "James" why not go all the way? "Jimbo Marion"; why not? "Slim Jim Marion", or "Sweet Jimmy Marion"? But to the book.
The author describes what he considers to be the death, or pending death, of God considered as the source of absolute commandments, proscribing all conduct and thought, accepting (sometimes) petition and prayers, intervening in creation, speaking through ancient books and prophets. In other words, the death of the God of the Abrahamic religions if not others. The knowledge of this death inevitably works on most of us, through the Kubler-Ross stages of denial, anger, etc. (I don't think the author explains why these stages apply or are appropriate). Some of us linger in our worship of this Sky-God, some of us (those who are mystics, it seems) do not. The Sky-God, or rather our worship of Him, has had various negative results.
This Mythic God was preceded by other, even more primitive, gods as we humans grew in sophistication and knowledge. The Mythic God has been, for all practical purposes, interred by the growth of the rational view, exemplified it would seem by science, which to borrow Laplace's supposed remark to Napoleon rendered Him an unnecessary hypothesis.
This rational view has triumphed, but in its turn has wrecked havoc on the world, for the most part through the acceptance of a thoroughly materialistic conception of the universe which has caused us to rape the environment and each other when deemed appropriate. Now is the time to evolve to a yet higher level of spirituality.
These levels of spirituality, or consciousness, have been categorized for reference by colors by some psychologists, and Marion makes use of these categories. It seems the highest level is turquoise, which is indeed a nice enough color.
The God of this higher level seems to be an immanent one, but I'm not entirely certain of this. Marion's God may be both immanent and transcendent. Marion (or should I say "Jim"?) is unclear in this, and in much else regarding this presumably real God. He seems in some fashion to associate him with Jesus, who he says rejected the Mythic God, but whether Jesus is God is not directly stated. He speaks of Jesus as discovering divinity in himself, but also indicates that we may, and should, do the same by "looking within" or seeking God in ourselves. Perhaps we're all God, or God is everything, human beings included. Perhaps Jesus is God in a sense, or a path to God, as are other great religious figures such as Buddha. Marion's God seems to be one that has been realized and accepted by Christian and non-Christian mystics.
Marion evidently rejects materialism, and in addressing its limitations refers, as it seems many do, to physics or more particularly quantum mechanics. This is something of a red flag, though, as physicists generally (not just Alan Sokal) have written despairingly of the misuse and misunderstanding of the theories of physics by those unfamiliar with them, and the efforts made to assert that they establish the existence of God, or an afterlife, or some inexplicable relation between everything in the universe and portals to other universes or dimensions. If materialism is rejected it seems we may have problems with immanence.
Perhaps Marion's interpretation of physics is correct; perhaps it is not. As I incline towards a Stoic point of view, I have a sympathy for the proposition that God is immanent in all things, and that we therefore partake in God. However, I don't pretend that this view has the support of science of any kind or that it can be established by application of the scientific method or reason.
Marion also may be correct that the great religious mystics have encountered the divine, and that we can all do so. We don't know whether they did or not, although it would seem to me that they felt in good faith they had experienced the divine. I'm unconvinced that if we do this, or perhaps regardless of whether we do or not, we therefore become divine or are divine in a way we're unable to understand until we become divine.
One thing we can be sure of, though, is that those who have experienced the divinity cannot describe with any specificity what that experience was or how or why it took place. Mystical encounters of this kind cannot be put into words, it seems, or if put into words are largely incomprehensible. This may mean they are phantasms, or that we lack the ability or tools to describe them.
What seems clear enough, however, is that certain people have experiences which may be called mystical, and which may or may not serve as evidence of something beyond the universe we normally encounter. While I'm not generally a follower of William James, I'm inclined to think with him that such experiences should be the subject of scientific inquiry, or at least may be the subject of inquiry (in other words, they are phenomena which can be studied intelligently).
What is also clear, for good or ill, is that we seem compelled to search for whatever it is we call God, or a higher or different reality which we may experience now or after we die. Perhaps that's a part of being mortal. Many of us are not willing to seek him in old books or in church, but seek him we will, and we'll write books about our search. Most of us seem to want God or at least to seek God, despite the fact that we've lost one or more in the course of our evolution. Lose one god and we will find another. Good old Jim Marion may have found him. If not, he and others will keep on trying until they can't try no more. God is wanted, dead or alive!
Showing posts with label Alan Sokal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alan Sokal. Show all posts
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Haacking Away at Vacuity
I always enjoy reading Susan Haack. She is so eminently sensible, she gives me hope for pragmatism and philosophy of the kind I feel when reading the classical pragmatists and relieves the despair I feel when reading those who are called neo-pragmatists. The former were sensible as well, while the latter are it seems to me purveyors of piffle, fomenting the futile, facilitating that fallacious fellowship of arcane academicians who revel in relativism. Nattering nabobs of negativism, I would say, if someone less than admirable had not already said it. Good stuff if not from a good person.
"Sensible" is good word, and to be called sensible is a compliment, even in the case of a philosopher. It means reasonable, rational, practical, sagacious, sound, shrewd. Alan Sokal is not alone, it seems, in castigating those who evidently lurk Snape-like in the halls of Academia, whispering that there is no such thing as truth, that science is just a kind of social negotiation or narrative no more worthy of respect than a chant, that we're all mere puppets of our culture, class, upbringing, whatever (though its doubtful any of them can achieve the sublime bitchiness Alan Rickman can so effortlessly deploy).
That there is no such thing as "Truth" (with a capital "T") has been fairly well established, I believe, if by that we mean some kind of Absolute Truth residing somewhere outside our far less than perfect world. But there are those who have led themselves to believe that there is no way to establish even little "t" truth, perhaps because they are as much victims of the quest for certainty as those who laved in the font of the big "T."
The tendency to lash out at science is to a certain extent understandable, especially in those poor teachers of the humanities who have been compelled to hear the hard sciences lauded while their forays into literary criticism, history, philosophy have been denigrated. And to a certain extent science has been given too much praise, even far too much for its own good. And doubtless we're all influenced by power, and society, and elites, and culture and religion, and class. That is to say, it is doubtless that we're all human.
But as Haack points out this fact, of such significance to those who seem to doubt there are matters of fact, doesn't mean that we're incapable of making good judgments, conclusions and inferences, well founded and sound--sensible, in fact--in science and in other matters. It isn't an easy thing to do, and we must struggle not to be unduly influenced by those factors which can impair our judgment, but we can do it and have done it. Protesting that we can't and haven't simply cuts the legs out of any inquiry, including those involved in making the protests.
I wonder if the difficulty involved in thinking along with the futility of seeking absolute certainty have resulted in the wave of the vacuous which overwhelms us these days. It's certainly much easier not to think, and in that case comforting to maintain that there is no need to think, really, in any case. But perhaps there is a kind of romantic despair involved in such attitudes as well, similar to the despair indulged in by many, especially artists and intellectuals, when doubt in the existence of God became serious in the 19th century. "If there is no God, everything is permitted!" they would cry, some of them while crying, literally. Thence to kill themselves like a character from a Dostoevsky novel as nothing mattered anymore.
"If there is no Truth, everything is permitted!" would seem to be a pronouncement worthy of those Haack refers to as propounding the "New Cynicism" or perhaps it's more accurate to say they are worth of the pronouncement. I don't particularly like the name "New Cynicism" as I think Cynicism for all its extremes was a respectable ancient and venerable school of philosophy in its time. A cynic may feel about it what a pragmatist may feel about "neo-pragmatism."
Regardless, it's a saying which seems to fit. Where there is no Truth, then all theories, conclusions, judgments, claims are of equal worth, which is to say of no worth at all. All are permitted as there is no way to distinguish them, no basis on which to judge them as good or bad, reasonable or unreasonable. Vacuitas, vacuitatis, et omnia vacuitas.
"Sensible" is good word, and to be called sensible is a compliment, even in the case of a philosopher. It means reasonable, rational, practical, sagacious, sound, shrewd. Alan Sokal is not alone, it seems, in castigating those who evidently lurk Snape-like in the halls of Academia, whispering that there is no such thing as truth, that science is just a kind of social negotiation or narrative no more worthy of respect than a chant, that we're all mere puppets of our culture, class, upbringing, whatever (though its doubtful any of them can achieve the sublime bitchiness Alan Rickman can so effortlessly deploy).
That there is no such thing as "Truth" (with a capital "T") has been fairly well established, I believe, if by that we mean some kind of Absolute Truth residing somewhere outside our far less than perfect world. But there are those who have led themselves to believe that there is no way to establish even little "t" truth, perhaps because they are as much victims of the quest for certainty as those who laved in the font of the big "T."
The tendency to lash out at science is to a certain extent understandable, especially in those poor teachers of the humanities who have been compelled to hear the hard sciences lauded while their forays into literary criticism, history, philosophy have been denigrated. And to a certain extent science has been given too much praise, even far too much for its own good. And doubtless we're all influenced by power, and society, and elites, and culture and religion, and class. That is to say, it is doubtless that we're all human.
But as Haack points out this fact, of such significance to those who seem to doubt there are matters of fact, doesn't mean that we're incapable of making good judgments, conclusions and inferences, well founded and sound--sensible, in fact--in science and in other matters. It isn't an easy thing to do, and we must struggle not to be unduly influenced by those factors which can impair our judgment, but we can do it and have done it. Protesting that we can't and haven't simply cuts the legs out of any inquiry, including those involved in making the protests.
I wonder if the difficulty involved in thinking along with the futility of seeking absolute certainty have resulted in the wave of the vacuous which overwhelms us these days. It's certainly much easier not to think, and in that case comforting to maintain that there is no need to think, really, in any case. But perhaps there is a kind of romantic despair involved in such attitudes as well, similar to the despair indulged in by many, especially artists and intellectuals, when doubt in the existence of God became serious in the 19th century. "If there is no God, everything is permitted!" they would cry, some of them while crying, literally. Thence to kill themselves like a character from a Dostoevsky novel as nothing mattered anymore.
"If there is no Truth, everything is permitted!" would seem to be a pronouncement worthy of those Haack refers to as propounding the "New Cynicism" or perhaps it's more accurate to say they are worth of the pronouncement. I don't particularly like the name "New Cynicism" as I think Cynicism for all its extremes was a respectable ancient and venerable school of philosophy in its time. A cynic may feel about it what a pragmatist may feel about "neo-pragmatism."
Regardless, it's a saying which seems to fit. Where there is no Truth, then all theories, conclusions, judgments, claims are of equal worth, which is to say of no worth at all. All are permitted as there is no way to distinguish them, no basis on which to judge them as good or bad, reasonable or unreasonable. Vacuitas, vacuitatis, et omnia vacuitas.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Some Thoughts on Sokal and his Hoax
I've recently finished reading Alan Sokal's Beyond the Hoax, which I was rather annoyed to find is a collection of works previously published (rendering it a hoax?) and am given to muse a bit about what the Sokal Hoax or the Sokal Affair as it's also been called tells us about science, philosophy, the "science wars" and other things. It may not be as big a deal as it once was among the cognoscenti, and postmodernism may be less a force than it was, but I think the Hoax retains some relevance in these dark times.
I'm neither a scientist nor a philosopher. I'm not a literary critic or a social scientist either, nor am I an academic. So in some manner I'm probably not qualified to opine on the Hoax or anything related to it. If the dangers of pontificating regarding complicated matters of which one has little knowledge was what Sokal was trying to demonstrate, I think he did demonstrate those dangers, and so am entering into dangerous territory myself. But I think more was involved than a rather sharp reminder that our ignorance is most on display when we not only stray into such matters but take it upon ourselves to make claims regarding them in print.
Such reminders are useful and appropriate, I think. I've often found myself dismayed by what's called the philosophy of law when those writing in that area display a profound ignorance or even disregard of the actual practice of law. I tend to think that practicing law would inform any philosophy of law and am suspicious of philosophers of law who have not done so. But I recognize, grudgingly perhaps, that philosophy of law is something different from the practice of it.
Reading Sokal would probably do those who know nothing of physics and especially of quantum physics some good. Those who are not physicists often seem to have a tendency to indulge in fantastic inferences from the little they know of quantum physics, and there is no harm in putting a stop to such inference. But Sokal clearly feels he was out to accomplish more than this, or did accomplish more than this even if he did not set out to do so.
In Beyond the Hoax and elsewhere, Sokal identifies himself as a Leftist, and claims that the denizens of postmodernism and academics out to denigrate the sciences by asserting that, e.g., the findings of science are no better, no more correct, than the assorted myths of various cultures do us all a disservice. Those of the Left, according to Sokal, and progressives generally have advocated social programs and other efforts to better the lives of the downtrodden and in doing so have maintained that certain policies more effectively achieve this than others, and refer to empirical studies in doing so. When academics, historically important figures in liberal politics, go about claiming science and scientific reasoning is no more reliable than, say, dowsing, the entire agenda of the Left is endangered.
I sympathize with the view that efforts to denigrate science and reason and rationality generally are dangerous, glib and silly, though not because I'm of the Left. I think I understand Sokal's point in emphasizing his political leanings, however, as those called conservatives delight in exposing academia as a kind of fountainhead of relativism. For my part, I think those who engage in such efforts are disregarding what should be obvious--the successes of experimental science--primarily by being over impressed by the obvious, i.e. the fact that culture, customs, personalities, politics, money and other things influence the focus of the scientists and science.
The manner in which such things impact science is no doubt interesting and worthy of study. However, the fact that they do should surprise nobody, as all human conduct is so influenced. It doesn't follow, though, that all human conduct is similarly baseless, i.e. that one kind of conduct or thought is no better than another. Science and reason, and rational inquiry, are distinguished from other human conduct by the method employed by them in problem-solving and addressing questions, and this method has had significant success in solving problems and answering questions, to our great benefit.
To nonetheless argue that such success is insignificant in judging the worth of an approach, or that the success is mere coincidence, is senseless. What is it that drives certain people to insist that despite this success there's no good reason to prefer this method over mythology or other "narratives"? I can't accept that this can be attributed only to stupidity, or even laziness (rational thinking is hard, so attacking it as without merit can be comforting to those who would rather avoid the difficult).
We seem to have a depressing and I think bewildering tendency to maintain, sometimes regardless of what is in fact the case and what we accept to be the case if our conduct is any guide, that we can't really know what is the case; that everything is a matter of opinion, for example, or all is relative. Of course, we nonetheless act as if we know well enough what is appropriate, and how to conduct ourselves. We know what is important, we know what problems are when we encounter them; we try to resolve them intelligently if we have any wisdom. We purport to think X but we persistently do not act is if we think X. Oddly, we seem to feel that this is not disingenuous or false, or idiotic. Indeed, we seem to believe that this reflects a kind of sophistication, that thinking in this fashion distinguishes those who do from those of the "common herd."
C. S. Peirce was right. We should not pretend to doubt in philosophy (or in other areas) what we do not doubt in our hearts. When we do, we make fools of ourselves in more ways than one, as we are proud to be foolish.
I'm neither a scientist nor a philosopher. I'm not a literary critic or a social scientist either, nor am I an academic. So in some manner I'm probably not qualified to opine on the Hoax or anything related to it. If the dangers of pontificating regarding complicated matters of which one has little knowledge was what Sokal was trying to demonstrate, I think he did demonstrate those dangers, and so am entering into dangerous territory myself. But I think more was involved than a rather sharp reminder that our ignorance is most on display when we not only stray into such matters but take it upon ourselves to make claims regarding them in print.
Such reminders are useful and appropriate, I think. I've often found myself dismayed by what's called the philosophy of law when those writing in that area display a profound ignorance or even disregard of the actual practice of law. I tend to think that practicing law would inform any philosophy of law and am suspicious of philosophers of law who have not done so. But I recognize, grudgingly perhaps, that philosophy of law is something different from the practice of it.
Reading Sokal would probably do those who know nothing of physics and especially of quantum physics some good. Those who are not physicists often seem to have a tendency to indulge in fantastic inferences from the little they know of quantum physics, and there is no harm in putting a stop to such inference. But Sokal clearly feels he was out to accomplish more than this, or did accomplish more than this even if he did not set out to do so.
In Beyond the Hoax and elsewhere, Sokal identifies himself as a Leftist, and claims that the denizens of postmodernism and academics out to denigrate the sciences by asserting that, e.g., the findings of science are no better, no more correct, than the assorted myths of various cultures do us all a disservice. Those of the Left, according to Sokal, and progressives generally have advocated social programs and other efforts to better the lives of the downtrodden and in doing so have maintained that certain policies more effectively achieve this than others, and refer to empirical studies in doing so. When academics, historically important figures in liberal politics, go about claiming science and scientific reasoning is no more reliable than, say, dowsing, the entire agenda of the Left is endangered.
I sympathize with the view that efforts to denigrate science and reason and rationality generally are dangerous, glib and silly, though not because I'm of the Left. I think I understand Sokal's point in emphasizing his political leanings, however, as those called conservatives delight in exposing academia as a kind of fountainhead of relativism. For my part, I think those who engage in such efforts are disregarding what should be obvious--the successes of experimental science--primarily by being over impressed by the obvious, i.e. the fact that culture, customs, personalities, politics, money and other things influence the focus of the scientists and science.
The manner in which such things impact science is no doubt interesting and worthy of study. However, the fact that they do should surprise nobody, as all human conduct is so influenced. It doesn't follow, though, that all human conduct is similarly baseless, i.e. that one kind of conduct or thought is no better than another. Science and reason, and rational inquiry, are distinguished from other human conduct by the method employed by them in problem-solving and addressing questions, and this method has had significant success in solving problems and answering questions, to our great benefit.
To nonetheless argue that such success is insignificant in judging the worth of an approach, or that the success is mere coincidence, is senseless. What is it that drives certain people to insist that despite this success there's no good reason to prefer this method over mythology or other "narratives"? I can't accept that this can be attributed only to stupidity, or even laziness (rational thinking is hard, so attacking it as without merit can be comforting to those who would rather avoid the difficult).
We seem to have a depressing and I think bewildering tendency to maintain, sometimes regardless of what is in fact the case and what we accept to be the case if our conduct is any guide, that we can't really know what is the case; that everything is a matter of opinion, for example, or all is relative. Of course, we nonetheless act as if we know well enough what is appropriate, and how to conduct ourselves. We know what is important, we know what problems are when we encounter them; we try to resolve them intelligently if we have any wisdom. We purport to think X but we persistently do not act is if we think X. Oddly, we seem to feel that this is not disingenuous or false, or idiotic. Indeed, we seem to believe that this reflects a kind of sophistication, that thinking in this fashion distinguishes those who do from those of the "common herd."
C. S. Peirce was right. We should not pretend to doubt in philosophy (or in other areas) what we do not doubt in our hearts. When we do, we make fools of ourselves in more ways than one, as we are proud to be foolish.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)