Some books are trash

I walked in buoyed up with bookish enthusiasm; I left sagging under pseudo-intellectual self-congratulatory bubbles and bangs.

We see readers as the bearers of the thinker’s torch, but the booksellers I visited with my wife and children today bore little resemblance to that image of scholarly devotion. Instead I saw legions of trashy romance novels (some raising the bar by excluding vampires and the paranormal, I suppose). In the philosophy section, I had hoped to find the original works of the philosophers themselves, but instead I found shallow and selective examinations of trendy themes in popular movies and tv shows. 

The selection on the shelves proved more interesting material than the content of the volumes. I could read in the selection that this branch of “the great conversation” was restricted to ego-boosting pseudo-intellectualism, brain teasers, time wasting entertainment, and a coffee shop.

The result of my visit was alienating and offensive. I feel disappointment bordering on grief for the clientele of this bookseller; I feel offended by the writers and publishers who produced the selection.

Reading and the reading culture are not in themselves a higher form of entertainment. Only good books are good. Being a book is not enough for something to be good. Some books are trash, and it seems from my recent foray into the bookseller’s shop, that the trash is common and accepted.

May we perpetually read toward the light, better and better rather than worse and worse.

Why Atheism is not "Rational"

Atheists make sense to me, but I can’t take them seriously. Their motives vary, but typically fall into the camps of righteous indignation or misapplied nihilism. Then there are those who just don’t care (though if your push them, they turn out to be mostly agnostic).

Atheism, at its simplest, is the positive claim that there is no God. As a philosophy student, my question is instantly “how do you know that?” I ask this because the claim is not “there is no particularly good reason to believe in God.” No, it is stated as the truth distilled from the lips of reason herself that there is no God.

Yeah, No.

My beef with this is a common blunder of attaching the word “reason” to claims that “make sense.” Spock, nor scientist, nor atheist may call their modus operandi “reasonable.” To say that a claim is backed by reason is usually, (I would say always, but in this I am agnostic), a total cop out designed to make belittling one’s opponents seem like the moral high ground: “I alone of all people (together with those who think like me) see the manifest truth (which is obvious) and anyone who does not agree is a blind idiot. So there.”

Define reason. No, don’t give me your evidence; I want to see your method and criteria. What are they? Oh, subjectively defined non-empirical criteria loaded with oodles of value assumptions (which incidentally can never be derived from “matters of fact”). Uh huh. So you are saying that you have decided that God does not exist and have then gone looking for sufficient corroborating evidence to make you feel like you believe because of the overwhelming, evident, manifest truth after the fact? Got it. You are still arguing? So you have convinced yourself well. Now here come the prepared attacks on faith generally as immoral (see the above problems with establishing moral criteria from “matters of fact”), and attacks on my religious tradition (inferred hastily and a bit too generally) as irrational or inconsistent.

I understand that there are a host of reasons for disbelieving in God. I understand this with the heart as well as the head. What I have a problem with is claiming to hold reason as the enemy of faith, particularly when the “reason” implied is empirical. No decision or assertion of value of any kind is consistent with empirical reason outside of pure subjective preference as the ultimate arbiter. 

“That’s not logical captain…”

Spock loves to say “logical,” and the other members of the Enterprise crew hold that Spock is “logical” and that McCoy is “emotional.”

News flash, everything you learned about logic from Spock is wrong. When Spock says “logical,” he means that something is a good idea, or the smart thing, or the likely answer to a problem. In this misuse of the word “logical,” science is logical, statistics are logical, and emotions are decidedly “illogical.”

Real logic breaks down into two kinds: deductive logic and inductive logic. Deductive logic consists of arguments which have a link of necessity between their supporting statements and their conclusions. In other words, if you accept the supporting statements, you can’t argue with the truth of the conclusions. Examples of this kind of logic are 2+2=4, “either the keys are here or they are somewhere else, they aren’t here, so they must be somewhere else,” and so on. These arguments are described as “valid” because the supporting statements (premises) guarantee the truth of the conclusion (provided that they are true themselves).

On the other side is inductive logic. Inductive logic, by definition, is never ever valid. The truth of the conclusion is not inescapable even if the premises are all true. It may be the case that 99% of all cases end in a particular way, but that does not guarantee that this particular case will end that way. All inductive logic is invalid by the deductive standard. Just because something has never happened does not guarantee that it never will (so much for statistics), and just because something has always happened up to this point does not guarantee that it always will (so much for science).

Inductive logic does not deal with any degree of certainty, only of probability, and even that probability is never more than an approximation. When one leaves the surety of deductive, valid, logic and enters inductive territory, all pretense of certainty ought to be abandoned. Inductive logic is “soft logic” because of this squishy property of never offering any degree of certainty. Deductive, mathematical, logic is “hard logic” because the structure of the argument makes the conclusions rationally necessary.

So back to Spock. Spock speaks almost exclusively from the perspective of soft logic, squishy logic. He is well endowed intellectually and boasts a broad understanding of science and statistics and rational decision-making models. He speaks for moderation and proven methods. This is all well and good. However, he speaks of these soft logic enterprises as though they had the same rational weight as hard logic. It is this soft-logic-in-hard-logic’s-clothing that so irks me about his use of the words “logical” and “illogical” to describe things which are no more rationally established than what one happened to have for breakfast.

Mistaking soft logic for its more reliable counterpart is dangerous and criminally dishonest. Scientists who don’t fathom the differences (the scientific method relies on soft logic making it categorically invalid in all positive results) make bold claims about what is possible without the slightest shred of hard logical evidence to support their claims, regardless of how strong these claims may seem inductively. The scientist who speaks of “confirming” theories by observation does not understand the logical framework upon which his or her entire enterprise rests. Scientists who voice atheism as being rational do not understand rationality, or even what science is in the first place. This point is not a matter of mere opinion, but one which is rationally established through the certainty of deductive logic. The Eighteenth century philosopher David Hume established the logical problems inherent in the scientific method irrefutably over two hundred years ago. This is not new news.

Is science incredibly useful? Absolutely! Is it very good at understanding the natural world and the principles by which it operates? It seems to be. However, this success is inherently inductive, which means that we cannot rationally claim certainty for any of our claims beyond their effects. We can know the effect, but not directly the cause.

I may have to write more thoroughly on this topic later to clarify my point and make concrete the differences between inductive and deductive logic. For now let it suffice that inductive logic lacks the logical property of necessity, which means that its conclusions are never guaranteed. This means that there is always an element of uncertainty inherent to any inductive conclusion, regardless of how much evidence is involved. I hold that to deny this uncertainty is dishonest and immoral. Scientists should not pretend to be mathematicians. Spock should not pretend to be “logical.” 

We're all gonna die, so...meh

Neil Degrasse Tyson, Richard Dawkins, Bertrand Russel and others are hopelessly, ludicrously out of their depth when they speak about God, or the best way to live, or metaphysics in general.

Most people today think of metaphysics as speculative where science is firm; metaphysics maintains a very similar status to the paranormal, ghosts, psychics and the like. But this is simply not the case. “Metaphysics” simply refers to the field of things which are “meta” to physics. Any time you have a conversation about what counts as “real,” you are having a conversation about things that are beyond the physical, tangible portion of reality.

So how does science fit into this? Science is a method that fits within a context. Any reference to that context must necessarily be “meta” to the discipline and methods of science itself. Similar to the way that an eye cannot see itself except indirectly, science is a really lousy tool for talking about science. It must make use of the context beyond its borders to have a rationally consistent conversation about itself. This is why great scientists no not necessarily make good philosophers or consistent thinkers.

I’ll give a concrete example. Richard Dawkins does not like the idea of Religion or of God. His book “The God Delusion” argues that people will be better off putting these hopeless delusions out of their minds and focusing on what is real, which is what is investigable through the scientific method.  I can’t fault his opinion, but I can fault his defense of that opinion as unscientific, badly reasoned, and more than slightly offensive to a seeker of truth.

This argument, that the only things that exist are the material facts of the world, can never be liberating or rationally considered a good thing for one simple reason: if the supposition that there are no non-material facts in the universe is correct, then there is no such thing as good or bad in the first place. Also, accepting the modern version of materialism means that humans don’t technically exist either, because the only things that exist are energy, energy gathered into particles, forces, space, and time. Humans are not on that list. According to the Standard Model, we are nothing more than an arbitrary designation for a relatively organized bundle of particles that will eventually find some other orientation after we die.

So nothing is good or bad. In that case, liberty is not better (more good) than ignorance and captivity, and there is no rationally justifiable reason to prefer liberty over captivity, other than simple arbitrary preference. There is no real reason for it. There is no reason to prefer living over dying, because living is not better than dying. Everything is equally “Meh.”

This means that the liberated Nihilist doesn’t get it. There is something that is just not clicking in their heads when they speak of the “benefits of Atheism/moral nihilism/materialism/relativism.” “Benefits” comes from the Latin “Bene”, meaning “good.” So any discussion of benefits, and any argument that attempts to show that these worldviews are somehow better than their alternatives has not swallowed its own sales pitch. If they actually believed it, they could not rationally argue to make converts.

This bothers me very deeply. Many clever and seemingly intelligent people argue for materialism and relativism and nihilism, but they could not maintain their fervor if they understood or thought deeply about their own doctrine.

Be consistent, think deeply.

Excited

We move in two weeks. It would be surreal, if it weren't for all the boxes full of books littering our front room and the half finished bathroom floor repairs.

Still, there's a lot to be grateful for. My beloved wife is healthy, my daughter is precocious and adorable and healthy, I am moving to a dream job teaching science to middle-schoolers. Life is good.

There are upcoming bumps in the road. Not least of which is the fact that we are expecting our new baby about the same time we are moving and the job starts a few days later. But life is good.

I'm excited to see what wonders await.

Don’t Hate Me Because I Care

John Lennon’s “Imagine” reminds me of prison for two reasons. The first comes from an experience I had when I was 17 years old. I volunteered in my college public speaking class to apply what I was learning by speaking to the inmates of the Utah State Prison. They had a weekly motivational speaker come at that time to address those on good behavior, and my professor just so happened to be a coordinator for the program.

I never actually got to give my speech, but I did go and listen to one of the other speakers a few weeks before I was scheduled to speak myself, as required by my professor to understand the audience. I had to surrender my driver’s license at the visitor’s entrance, replaced by a clip-on, numbered ID badge. I wondered if they would still let me out if I lost it. Then I had followed my professor down the many cement corridors past thick steel bulkheads. I didn’t want them to close while I was in there. Eventually we arrived at the prison chapel, and I sat among the inmates, next to Bo. Bo was in for killing someone. Most of the inmates were friendly and starved for conversation. One showed me his sketch book, mostly pencil drawings of the five books on his shelf. Another offered me guitar lessons after he got out, though it’d be a few years before he did. All were dressed in white, which is why my professor called them “the men in white.” I was wearing a white shirt; I hoped my slacks were enough non-white color to get me out. Eventually, the program started and the prison band played after the introductions were given and a prayer said. The band played “Imagine” by John Lennon.

The speaker was boring and talked about avoiding self-directed pity-parties. I was frankly more interested in watching the guards, one of whom kept walking along the pews and looking anxious. My professor noticed as well. When the speech was finally over, my professor guided him and myself quickly out of the chapel and back through the corridors to the entrance. I was relieved to trade back my numbered ID badge for my driver’s license while the professor talked with the guards. He told me later that one of the inmates had been misplaced and the facility was about to go into lockdown. We just made it out in time. The guards searched my car including the trunk, hood, and undercarriage, and when I drove out of the prison, I was struck by the fact that the road into the prison was better paved than the one leading out of prison.

That was the first reason; it has more to do with association by experience than with the song itself.

The second is purely from the message of the song.

Lennon’s anthem for world unity is ambitious and admirable, but hopelessly tangled up in bad reasoning. “Imagine” invites the listener to picture a world where there are no borders and no causes worth fighting for. His iconic line “Nothing to kill or die for” imagines a world where the conflicts end because there is no cause for contention. But nothing to kill or die for also means nothing to live for. This is not a world of peace, but a world of apathy masquerading as peace. Another problem with this simplistic vision of Lennon’s Utopia is that people die with or without good reasons. Even with nothing to die for, you are still going to die. But if you were willing to die for something, then maybe something is worth more than maintaining your doomed pulse. The heart of conflict is a belief that there is something valuable in the world, the idea that things matter. People fight because people care deeply about things. Asking one to imagine a world without this fuel for conflict not only destroys contention, but also everything worth living for. Unlike animals, humans crave and need a reason for their existence; breathing and breeding are not enough to live for. We must live for something higher to believe that there is true and lasting value in our lives.

But the problems don’t end there:

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today...

As good as it is for people to live in the moment and appreciate the life around them, paying no attention to the future is a recipe for disaster. “Living for today,” at least in Lennon’s context, permanently disconnects the present from the future. A world without questions about, and faith in, the metaphysical nature of the human soul is one where this world and everything in it is meaningless. Today only means something in the context of yesterday and tomorrow. If people disagree about the nature of the soul and its fate beyond the grave, at least in the midst of the conflict they can appreciate their mutual faith that life is worth living. This very faith is only possible in a consistent manner through a belief in the beyond.

Lennon sings of apathetic inertness, with no spark to separate the living from the dead. There must always be right and wrong, questions about the philosophical nature of man, and a belief in the great beyond. Without these, Lennon’s world is not worth imagining.

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Marriage and the Prisoner's Dilemma

The situation:

Bonnie and Clyde are arrested by a detective who knows that they are famous bank robbers. The trouble is, he can’t prove it.

So the detective makes this ploy.  He separates Bonnie and Clyde, putting them in separate cells with no way to communicate with each other. The detective then approaches each of them separately with this offer. 

Betray your partner, and I’ll see that you get only 1 year of prison time if your partner stays loyal, and your partner will go to prison for a minimum of five years. If your partner rats on you, but you stay loyal, then your partner gets one year and you get five years minimum. If both of you rat on each other, then you will both spend three years in prison each.

As Bonnie sits quietly in her cell, she weighs her options. “The detective might be bluffing, which would mean that Clyde and I could go free if we just stay loyal and don’t rat each other out. But If Clyde tells on me while I stay loyal, then I get a minimum of five years. If I tell on Clyde I get either one (1) year or three (3) years. But if I stay loyal, I get either none (0) or five (5).”

On the other side of the station, Clyde is thinking the exact same thing. 

The situation is dire. Each of these partners in crime makes their choice. No one is surprised when both partners betray each other, and each serves a three year sentence.

Bonnie and Clyde both know that their partner is not entirely trustworthy and will probably betray them. Because of this, each will choose to betray (rather than be betrayed).

This situation is a thought experiment from game theory called “The Prisoner’s Dilemma.” Game theory, which is the study of decision making in strategic situations, operates on the assumption that people usually act out of a desire to further their own rational self-interest. Game theory provides the backbone of economics, national defense, and political theory.

The unsettling irony of this situation, however, is that exactly by pursuing their rational self-interest, both Bonnie and Clyde have wound up counting days in a cell.

This brings me to the subject of marriage. Marriage is a partnership similar (hopefully without the crime) to Bonnie and Clyde’s in the Prisoner’s Dilemma. Conflicts arise constantly in marriage which force both partners to decide between their own rational self-interest (what they want) and the needs of their spouse/marriage/family.

Commitment in marriage is like staying loyal in the Dilemma. If both partners sacrifice their rational self-interest and personal wants, then both receive the highest possible benefits. But if either spouse is in it for their own happiness, the whole thing falls apart and everyone is miserable. This has been made even more visible with no-fault divorce laws, but a marriage does not need to end in divorce to be a failure.

This terrifies me, and I assume other rational, sane people feel the same way. Personal commitment and self-sacrifice are not enough to make a marriage work if only one partner is in the game. It takes both partners 

willingly sacrificing themselves for the marriage to succeed, but it only takes one to destroy it. You are at your spouse’s mercy, just as they are at yours.

However, as afraid as we may be, if we act on that fear, then we have failed before we have even started. Marriage is an integral part of human happiness, but if you go into marriage seeking your own happiness, you are likely to lose it.

This is something worth thinking about. What quality could be more important to find in a future spouse than loyalty? Forget the looks, or even the people-skills. Loyalty is of supreme importance.  In yourself, cultivate reliability and trustworthiness. Meet your commitments, always.

Remember that for marriage to benefit personal happiness, it cannot be about personal happiness.  Laws and politics which speak of marriage as a vehicle for personal fulfillment are missing the point.

Mathew 10: 39 "^aHe that findeth his life shall ^blose it: and he that ^closeth his^dlife for my sake shall find it."

KJV