The Flaunting of Corruption

Ambrose Bierce, a remarkable man, has been mentioned by me before in the blog.  Soldier of the Union in the Civil War, journalist, author, wit (though a bitter wit; hence his nickname "Bitter Bierce").  He vanished after leaving our Glorious Republic for Mexico in, I believe, 1917.  We don't know his fate.  Before disappearing, he said and wrote many things which I think astute.  You can read one of them, above.

From out of the past, a quote which seems utterly appropriate to the present.  But what was sardonic humor then is now a statement which can fairly be called "unimpeachable" (pardon the pun), meaning not to be doubted, entirely trustworthy.

That the statement is true has been demonstrated in the (un)impeachment proceedings in the Senate of our Great Nation.  Not only has it been demonstrated, however.  It has been expressly stated by Republicans and their lawyers, who have claimed repeatedly that politics is indeed the conduct of public affairs for the benefit of a particular individual, in this case the president.  Therefore, there is nothing wrong with it, or at least nothing impeachable about it.  Most significantly, it constitutes a defense against all claims of corruption or abuse of power, as far as these worthies are concerned.

There is something odd about the claim that the authors of the Constitution did not mean impeachment was appropriate in the case of abuse of presidential power for the president's own benefit.  How likely is it that the drafters of the Constitution believed that a president could be impeached only if guilty of a crime?  Were they concerned that the president would rob a bank, kidnap someone, murder someone, vandalize something, beat his wife?  No doubt such crimes would result in impeachment by any reasonably sane members of the Congress, but is this what they feared?  It strikes me that what they feared was that the president would abuse his power in some fashion; he would use the powers of his office to commit wrongdoings.  That, after all, is what their concern ultimately was in establishing a nation--the use and misuse of the power of government.

That there are lawyers who would gladly make the argument that impeachment cannot be based on abuse of power reminds me of why the profession I chose is held in low esteem.  To an extent, a lawyer is required to make the argument his client wants him to make, so it may be said that these particular legal practitioners are just doing their job.  But a lawyer generally is not required to represent anyone, and it is terribly short-sighted to take the position that in effect sanctions the presidential use of power for his/her own benefit.  Sometimes a fee shouldn't be a lawyer's only concern.

If our politicians have accepted that they may conduct public affairs for their own benefit, and are eagerly seeking to convince us that is the case, as seems quite clear, it appears that our system of government has been perverted.  But it also appears that our politicians know this and are content with it.  Perhaps they relish it.  They certainly seem to be flaunting this corrupt conclusion.

Perhaps the president should be credited with realizing the depth to which our government has sunk.  Being what he is, he is simply taking advantage of it.

Being what we seemingly are, we don't particularly care that he does so, or that many of our political leaders want only to be of assistance to him.

On the Wisdom and Morality of Detachment

Our leaders are either sinister or buffoons, or sinister buffoons (the latter are arguably more dangerous, as it is impossible to take them seriously but they pose a serious threat).  Climate change is taking place, and there is little hope it will be remedied.  The rich get richer; the poor poorer.  Ignorance is not only growing, but is a point of pride.  So, for that matter, is stupidity provided it is stupidity in the service of ignorance.  Information and disinformation are omnipresent, and we seem to lack the will, or the intelligence, to distinguish between them.

It's unsurprising that we see a resurgence in philosophies or ways of life which promote detachment as a means by which we can obtain happiness, or at least tranquility.  Buddhism, Stoicism, Epicureanism, Taoism are touted these days in books, articles and websites.  Yes, even in self-help books, heaven help us.  Each of these paths in various ways, sometimes even similar ways, teach the value of indifference to things which are beyond our control, or are sources of suffering and delusion.  Stoicism, obviously, is the path I try to follow, and its similarity to the Buddhist view in several ways has been noted.

I think it clear that there is wisdom in these philosophies, particularly in times like these.  But in times like these, is detachment from all the problems, and people, who are the sources of disturbance and suffering moral?  Shouldn't we be doing something about them?

If we should be, what is it exactly that we should do?  This is what I think has to be considered whenever it's claimed that someone should do something about anything, particularly for ethical reasons.  And part of that consideration should include an assessment of what can be done effectively, i.e. what can be done that would actually make a difference?  If we do what will make no difference, it strikes me that what we do we do merely to assuage our consciences, or out of vanity.  The sad fact is that there is very little we can do that will make a difference, except perhaps voting as is possible in this and some other countries, and speaking, and writing.  But most of all in doing those things which are in our control which can make a difference at least in how we and certain others live.

Unlike some other philosophies of detachment, Stoicism at least in ancient times encouraged participation in public affairs.  Thus Stoics among Roman Senators would defy emperors, and suffer the consequences.  But few are in a position to do much of anything similar to what could be done by powerful men in antiquity, and our politics has so degenerated and has become so utterly dependent on money that the chances someone of honor would rise to levels of political power without being corrupted is most unlikely.

Detachment can be combined with morality.  But what can be done morally is limited by what we can or can't do.  So we do what Epictetus recommended:  do the best we can with what is in our power, and take the rest as it happens.  Less and less is in our power, unfortunately, but what we think and how we conduct ourselves is, and it is wisdom to be moral in what we think and do.

Regarding Cultural Appropriation

Just what is cultural appropriation?  Is it always inappropriate?  It seems to be a term used in condemning certain conduct or people.

Well, you see what I've done of course.  Above is a photo of certain people of Asian descent (Chinese, in fact) playing cellos.  The cello is a Western musical instrument, most typically played with other instruments in Western classical music, as a part of an orchestra, quartet or quintet, though Bach's works for solo cello are sublime.  By playing a Western musical instrument and, most likely, Western classical music, do they engage in cultural appropriation?

One searches for a definition.  I do at least.  Here's one, from the Cambridge Dictionary Online.  Cultural appropriation is "the act of taking or using things from a culture that is not your own, especially without showing that you understand or respect that culture."  Now let's consult Cambridge's great rival institution.  According to Oxford Reference Online, cultural appropriation is "a term used to describe the taking over of cultural forms, themes or practices by one cultural group by another.  It is in general used to describe Western appropriations of non-Western or non-white forms, and carries connotations of exploitation and dominance."

The Cambridge Dictionary's definition allows that cultural appropriation may be engaged in by anyone, of any culture.  The folks at Oxford view it as less universal.  It is something generally practiced by Western or white people and, as practiced by them, connotes exploitation or dominance.  I wonder.  Does what Western or white people do necessarily connote exploitation or dominance, or is cultural appropriation something which has such a connotation when engaged in by Western or white people?  It would not, presumably, in the rare instances when engaged in by non-Western or non-white people ("generally" doesn't mean "always").

It's unclear to me why Oxford Reference refers to "taking over" as I doubt anyone, even Westerners or whites, can "take over" another culture's forms, themes or practices.  Use them, certainly, even exploit them.  Perhaps this is the result of a difference between American and British English, but those of one culture, as far as I'm aware, continue to use its forms, themes and practices even if they are used by others.  Cultural appropriation doesn't connote exclusive use.

I doubt very much that those who culturally appropriate X dominate X in the sense that they become the primary or premier actors in that area.  They may indeed be inept at it. Yo-Yo Ma, though, is an outstanding cellist, his Chinese descent notwithstanding.  Assuming he engages in cultural appropriation by being such an accomplished musician playing a Western instrument, does he dominate that which he appropriates?  Is it possible that his mastery of the cello means that by playing it he doesn't practice cultural appropriation?  Is skill a factor in determining whether it takes place?

The late George Harrison played the sitar.  He learned how to do so from Ravi Shankar, a master of the instrument.  Harrison played sitar on several Beatles songs.  Was that cultural appropriation?  Was it so by virtue of the fact that money was made from his use of it, or was the mere use of it sufficient to constitute cultural appropriation?

Perhaps cultural appropriation in music is not so easily ascertained.  What about literature?  Did Mark Twain engage in cultural appropriation when he wrote, and made money by writing, Huckleberry Finn?  That book has long been described as racist, but is it cultural appropriation?  Does the mere depiction of someone of another culture or race constitute cultural appropriation in a book or painting, or does it result when an author or painter purports to describe what is felt or done by someone of a different culture?

Exploitation is one thing, as is mockery.  But is learning of another culture, admiring it, listening to its music or language and act of appropriation?  Is trying to play its music or instruments something that should not be done?

Is thinking about another culture appropriation?  Perhaps it can be, depending on how we think of it.  Does the use of logic, the scientific method constitute cultural appropriation of what has been, according to some, a Western way of looking at things, doing things?

To each his own?  Then we can dispute what our cultures are, as well as whether they're being appropriated. 

Rage, God and the Other Hitchens

The "Other Hitchens" as some may have guessed is Peter Hitchens, the brother of the late and more notorious Christopher Hitchens.  Peter is, or was, a journalist by trade, and although I hesitate to say it having brothers of my own, is probably known to most of us as Christopher's brother.  This may be unjust; frankly, I don't know.

I recently read Peter Hitchens' book The Rage Against God subtitled, I think, "How atheism led me to faith" (I'm not sure, as no helpful if irritating colon appears between the "God" and the "How" on the cover of the book; which indeed wouldn't make much sense).

Peter like his brother writes quite well.  Unlike his brother, he believes in God.  He believes in Christianity in fact, which means to me--necessarily though in many cases without acknowledgement and even in denial--that he believes in a certain God, said to be the only one in being, though Father, Son and Holy Spirit).

The painting, or more properly altarpiece, shown above is The Last Judgment by Rogier van der Weyden, a work of the 15th century.  The book is a kind of account of Peter's youth, his lapse into atheism, and his return to the faith of his fathers, combined with as assault upon atheism and its adherents, including his brother, and the arguments they make against religion and particularly their attitude toward it and the religious.  If I understand him correctly, this painting made such a profound impression upon him that it was essential to his rejection of atheism and embracing of Christianity.

I should say first that I think that Christopher Hitchens, whose writings I mostly admire, Richard Dawkins and others of the "new atheists" are excessive and extreme in their criticism of religion and the religious.  So to a certain extent I sympathize with complaints made by Peter Hitchens in this book.  But for various reasons I think it fails in its effort to persuade (as I think he tries to do) that Christianity is necessary to civilization, morality, and most everything we fallen creatures do, think or say.

I think it's clear that Christianity, not religion in general or belief in a deity, is what is being defended and propounded.  This is because Christianity is the only religion he mentions except to the extent he refers to other religions (primarily Islam and Judaism) as examples of the the efforts made by atheist countries or societies such as the USSR and (Christian support of it notwithstanding) Nazi Germany.  This is part of his claim that such societies purposefully persecute religions because of a hatred of God and because religion is based on the belief that what is good and right exists outside of humanity and indeed outside of the universe.  Totalitarian governments do not want anyone to believe such things, according to him, because they persuade people to think there is something greater than the State, something by which the State is to be judged.

Also, Christianity in its Anglican form in the 1950s is what he looks back upon most fondly.  Its current version is not at all to his taste.  The first portion of the book is an indulgence in nostalgia, in fact.   The author longs for the days when England ruled the waves, and the sun never set on it empire.  It's unclear to me whether he believes that the acceptance of Christianity by England assured her success and dominion and its rejection caused its decline, but one does get that impression.

Those halcyon days having passed, and with them all glory, grandeur, poetry, courtesy, gallantry, honesty, the author perforce became an atheist.  There were a number of reasons for this decline, and Christianity played its part in it, by buying into liberal views on sex, on multiculturalism, on relativism, on egalitarianism, etc. 

Then came the day he saw the work of art pictured above.  He saw in the naked figures at the bottom of the work people who he says looked just like people he knew.  Their nakedness apparently helped foster this impression.  This was not because they were naked, but because they weren't wearing any of the peculiar clothes worn by people of that time.  As a result they could not be dismissed as different.  Most effective, though, was the fact that they were in terror of the Last Judgment, some even shown as vomiting in fear.  

It seems fear was a motivating factor in Peter Hitchens return to the faith.  Fear of judgment, presumably, and eternal damnation due to conduct contrary to the laws of God.  Fear certainly can motivate intensely.  However, being told to believe in God or else doesn't seem to persuade unless one is already in extremis as it were.  Also, it hardly seems to be a particularly Christian method of persuasion.  "Believe or burn in hell forever" isn't something one can picture Jesus saying, though some of his followers were apt to make this threat on his behalf.

If fear played a part in making him believe, I honor his honesty in admitting as much.  But he argues also that in the absence of belief in God, horrible things are done.  Witness the USSR and Nazi Germany.  This also seems one of his arguments in favor of having a religion.

It is at least something he thinks atheists like his late brother should acknowledge if they were fair, and gave religion its due.  Even cynics and likely non-believers like Napoleon (not his example, but mine) recognized it was necessary for the "common people" to believe in religion for the sake of order.  Thus his deal with the Catholic Church.

This may be an argument to the effect that religion has its uses, but again is not one which inspires belief in Christianity or any other institutional religion.  What is it that he believes inspired him, or should inspire others, to believe?

Here I confess I begin to lose him.  The Soviet Union and Nazi Germany were horrible.  Were they horrible because they persecuted religion and sought to eliminate it, or for other reasons?  Maybe there was more than one cause.  If there was, can we claim as he seems to that it was their eradication of religion--Christianity in particular--that made them become evil?  Does it makes sense to contend that if they had tolerated religions--Christianity in particular--they wouldn't have been evil?  Or only evil sometimes, as Tsarist Russian was, as he seems to admit?

Whether he does so intentionally or unintentionally, he seems to maintain that Christianity alone can give us what we need to be moral and to have a just and true civilization.  A part of this is his assertion that it is necessary to have a standard of what is good and true beyond what humans can conceive in order for us to know what is good or true.  A part is his claim that only Christianity, with its injunction that we love one another, that can bring us close to God, to do his will.  The Christian demand that we love one another is superior to, for example, the Golden Rule.

He chides his brother for saying it is unrealistic to demand that we love one another as we love ourselves or are children.  He claims we show this love in dying to save others as in war, or to save a child in danger.  Well, certainly such selfless acts have been done, but despite the rhetoric employed these days not everyone is or can be heroic.  We are not heroes everyday.  Typically, we favor our children for example over those of our neighbors or total strangers.  It is unclear to me that we always love each other, and clear that we do not, and not having done so for ages suggests we aren't likely to  do so no matter how many gods command us to.

But in the end, and finally, I am again astonished by the arrogance of the Christian apologist.  For all the good points and respectable arguments he makes, other religions are hardly mentioned as guides to living life morally.  And no consideration is given to the fact that humansurvived, somehow, for ages before Jesus lived and even for a longer period before Christianity became what it is today, and in that time developed laws and theories of ethics and the good state, and good life, without belief in Christianity and even without belief in a personal, transcendent deity, that Christianity borrowed from assiduously.

I don't understand the rage against God or the religious felt by some atheists, but neither do I understand how such people as Peter Hitchens contend that the only choice to be made is to be atheist or to be Christian.

Invincible Irrationality

I'm not much of a fan of Nietzsche.  I've come to refer to him, perhaps unkindly, as Frantic Freddie.  I quote him nonetheless, and in doing so include thereby a picture of him wearing a mustache not quite as foreboding as the one we see him with in other photographs, and in caricatures, looking somewhat demented.

He has something of a point in this particular quote, at least.  I ask myself how the irrationality of a thing would be an argument against its existence, I confess, but it can be maintained easily enough that it is a condition of ours, at least.  Not necessarily what we lawyers like to call a condition precedent, perhaps, but a condition at least to the extent a characteristic can be one.

It was Aristotle I believe who wrote that we humans are rational animals, meaning that we are capable of reason.  The Stoics thought that capacity was what made us, in small part at least,  participants in the divine intelligence of the universe.  Reason was long honored with the highest place in the history of human thought, and then replaced (or supplanted) by faith when reason was thought to be inadequate, only to reappear during the Renaissance and then explode during the Enlightenment.  Since then it has been dying a slow death; slow, because the achievements of the methods of science cannot be denied entirely, but dying nonetheless because it seems not to satisfy what we want, because what we want now is to be irrational.

That seems obvious enough given the fact that apparently thousands if not millions of people not merely accept that the world is flat (according to CNN) but wish others to do so as well.  This belief requires that a good deal of what seems obvious be ignored or explained away, and this is done with fascinating ease by the conviction that the government or someone or other having great power and influence wants us to believe otherwise and so fake a landing on the moon, the apparent curvature of the Earth, and much, much more.  Thus do we cycle back into ignorance.

There is currently an obsession with conspiracy.  To an extent this is understandable, as there can be little question that our politics is corrupt as are our politicians.  We've grown accustomed to deceit and combinations entered into to benefit the interests of a small and perhaps shrinking group of people who care about nothing but themselves, ultimately.  We see this every day.  We see it most clearly in the impeachment hearings, courtesy of someone who is intent on self-gratification and his minions.  But we see the appeal of the irrational in the response to the hearings as well.  It is assumed that others share the same proclivity for self-gratification and so do what they do to advance their own interests by thwarting efforts by others to do so.  There is a presumption of selfishness that must be overcome, but, curiously, it cannot be rebutted because selfishness is the rule, the standard by which all is judged.

It isn't rational for Republicans, for example, to not merely protect but encourage an executive who seeks merely to satisfy his own concerns.  A Democrat may soon be in the same place, and do the same things, and Republicans will then be faced with the same arguments supporting such conduct they used to support it when it benefited them.  It's hard to believe any rational person would be so short sighted.

But it isn't just in our politics that we see this invocation of the irrational, but everywhere.  The more that science, or statistics, or reason, or the learned recommend certain actions or support certain conclusions, the more those actions and conclusions are thought to be fake, or deceitful, or to result from some wrongful motive.  Thus the return of the flat earth theory.

When the inclination is to disbelieve what is credible and supported by the best available evidence, there is a serious problem.  It's a problem which will become increasingly significant as the attitude is encouraged and fostered, as is being done now.  Soon enough the irrational will become invincible, impervious to reason, impervious to argument, impervious perhaps to fate itself.  We'll slide into chaos and self-destruct, unthinking.