Maverick Philosopher

The Rabbit of Real Existence and the Empty Hat of Mere Logic

Consider again this curious piece of reasoning:

1. For any x, x = x.  Ergo:
2. a = a.  Ergo:
3. (Ex)(x = a). Ergo:
4. a exists.

This reasoning is curious because it seems to show that one can deduce the real existence of an individual a from a purely formal principle of logic, the Law of Identity.  And yet we know that this cannot be done.  We know that the rabbit of real existence cannot be pulled from the empty hat of mere logic. Since the argument cannot be sound, it must be possible to say where it goes wrong.  (It is a strange fact of philosophical experience that arguments that almost all philosophers reject nevertheless inspire the wildest controversy when it comes to the proper diagnosis of the error.  Think of the arguments of Zeno, Anselm, and McTaggart.) 

The move from (1) to (2) appears to be by Universal Instantiation.  One will be forgiven for thinking that if everything is self-identical, then a is self-identical.  But I say that right here is a (or the) mistake.   To move from (1) to (2), the variable 'x' must be replaced by the substituend 'a' which is a constant.   Now there are exactly three possibilities:

Either 'a' refers to something that exists, or 'a' refers to something that does not exist or 'a' does not refer at all.  On the third possibility it would be impossible validly to move from (2) to (3) by Existential Generalization.  The same goes for the second possibility:  if 'a' refers to a Meinongian nonexistent object, then  one could apply existentially-neutral Particular Generalization to (2), but not Existential Generalization.  This leaves the first alternative.  But if 'a' refers to something that exists, then right at this point real existence has been smuggled into the argument. 

I hope the point is painfully obvious.  One cannot move from (1) to (2) by logic alone: one needs an extralogical assumption, namely, that 'a' designates something that exists.  To put it another way, one must assume that the domain of quantification is not only nonempty but inhabited by existing individuals.  After all, (1) is true for every domain, empty or not.  (1) lacks Existential Import.  The truth of (1) is consistent with there being no individuals at all.

Let's now consider Peter's supposed counterexample to the principle that if p entails q and p is necessary, then q is also necessary.  He thinks that the above argument shows that there are cases in which necessary propositions entail contingent ones.  Thus he thinks that the conjunction of (1) and (2) entails (3), but that (3) is contingent.

Well, I agree that if we are quantifying over a domain the members of which are contingent individuals, then (3) is contingent.  But surely the conjunction of (1) and (2) is also contingent.  For the conjunction of a necessary and a contingent proposition is a contingent proposition.  Now of course (1) is necessary.  But (2), despite appearances, is contingent.  For if 'a' designates a contingent individual, then it designates an individual that exists in some but not all worlds, and in those worlds in which a does not not exist it is not true that a = a.

In the worlds in which a exists, a is essentially a.  But a is not necessarily a because there are worlds in which a does not exist.

What accounts for the illusion that if (1) is necessary, then (2) must also be necessary?   Could it be the tendency to forget that while 'x' is a variable,  'a' is an arbitrary constant?

 

Hume's Fork and Leibniz's Fork

No doubt you have heard of Hume's Fork.  'Fork,' presumably from the Latin furca, suggests a bifurcation, a division; in this case  of meaningful statements into two mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes, the one consisting of relations of ideas, the other of matters of fact. In the Enquiry, Hume writes:

     Propositions of this kind [relations of ideas] can be discovered
     purely by thinking, with no need to attend to anything that
     actually exists anywhere in the universe. . . . Matters of fact . .
     . are not established in the same way; and we cannot have such
     strong grounds for thinking them true. The contrary of every matter
     of fact is still possible, because it doesn't imply a contradiction
     and is conceived by the mind as easily and clearly as if it
     conformed perfectly to reality. That the sun will not rise tomorrow
     is just as intelligible as - and no more contradictory than - the
     proposition that the sun will rise tomorrow.

One question that arises is whether Hume's Fork was anticipated by any earlier philosopher. Leibniz of course makes a distinction between truths of reason and truths of fact that is very similar to Hume's distinction between relations of ideas and matters of fact. See, for example, Monadology #33. In a very astute comment from the old blog, 'Spur' details the similarities and concludes:

     Leibniz and Hume have the same basic distinction in mind, between
     those truths which are necessary and can be known a priori, and
     those which are contingent and can only be known a posteriori. The
     two philosophers use slightly different terminology, and Leibniz
     would balk at Hume's use of 'relations between ideas' in connection
     with truths of reason only, but the basic distinction seems to me
     to be the same.

I deny that the basic distinction is the same and I base my denial on a fact that Spur will admit, namely, that for Leibniz, every proposition is analytic in that every (true) proposition is such that the predicate is contained in the subject: Praedicatum inesse subjecto verae propositionis. I argue as follows. Since for Leibniz every truth is analytic, while for Hume some truths are analytic and some are not, the two distinctions cannot be the same. To this, the Spurian (I do not say Spurious) response is:

     The [Leibnizian] distinction is between two kinds of analytic
     truths: those that can be finitely analyzed, and those that can't.
     This is an absolute distinction and there are no truths that belong
     to both classes. Even from God's point of view there is presumably
     an absolute distinction between necessary and contingent truths,
     though perhaps he wouldn't view this as a distinction between
     finitely and non-finitely analyzable truths, because his knowledge
     of truths is intuitive and never involves analysis.

I grant that the two kinds of Leibnizian analytic truths form mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes. But I deny that this suffices to show that "the same basic distinction" is to be found in both Leibniz and   Hume.

One consideration is that they do not form the same mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive classes. Though every Humean relation of ideas is a Leibnizian truth of reason, the converse does not hold. I think Spur will agree to this. But if he does, then surely this shows that the two distinctions are not the same. I should think that extensional sameness is necessary, though not sufficient, for sameness.

But even if the two distinctions were extensionally the same, they are not 'intensionally' the same distinction.

Consider Judas is Judas and Judas betrays Christ. For both  philosophers, the first proposition is necessary and the second is contingent. But Leibniz and Hume cannot mean the same by 'contingent.' If you negate the first, the result is a contradiction, and both philosophers would agree that it is, and that it doesn't matter whether the proposition is viewed from a divine or a human point of view. The negation of the second, however, is, from God's point of view a contradiction for Leibniz, but not for Hume. For Leibniz, the betrayal of Christ is included within the complete individual concept of Judas that God has before his mind. So if God entertains the proposition Judas does not betray Christ, he sees immediately that it is self-contradictory in the same way that I see immediately that The   meanest man in Fargo, North Dakota is not mean is self-contradictory.

Of course, for Leibniz, it is contingent that Judas exists: there are possible worlds in which Judas does not exist. But given that Judas does exist, he has all his properties essentially. Thus Judas betrays   Christ is contingent only in an epistemic sense: we finite intellects see no contradiction when we entertain the negation of the proposition in question. Given our finitude, our concepts of individuals cannot be complete: they cannot include every property, monadic and relational, of individuals. But if, per impossibile, we could ascend to the divine standpoint, and if every truth is analytic (as Leibniz in effect holds via his predicate-in-subject principle), then we would see that Judas betrays Christ is conditionally necessary: necessary given the existence of Judas.

'Contingent' therefore means different things for Leibniz and Hume. Contingency in Hume cuts deeper. Not only is the existence of Judas contingent, it is also contingent that he has the properties he has. This is a contingency rooted in reality and not merely in our ignorance.

Perhaps my point could be put as follows. The Leibnizian distinction is not absolute in the sense that, relative to the absolute point of view, God's point of view, the distinction collapses. For God, both of the Judas propositions cited above are analytic, both are necessarily true (given the existence of Judas), and both are knowable a priori.  But for Hume, the distinction is absolute in that there is no point of view relative to which the distinction collapses.

I'm stretching now, but I think one could say that, even if Hume admitted God into his system, he would say that not even for God is a matter of fact knowable a priori. For the empiricist Hume the world is radically contingent in a way it could not be for Leibniz the rationalist.

Realism and Idealism

An excerpt from an e-mail by Chris C., with responses in blue.

. . . I read your post on Butchvarov's latest paper, and you made clear your argument about the problem with the crucial step in the "idealist" position; then you closed with the assertion that realism has its own set of problems.  Granted that that's obviously true, I was wondering if you had a piece, whether a paper or a blog post, that elucidated your positions on 1) Why, although you think ultimately he is wrong, you also think Butch's position is a serious alternative to realism; and 2) Why, despite its problems, you believe realism addresses those problems adequately.

That post ended rather abruptly with the claim, "Metaphysical realism, of course, has its own set of difficulties."  I was planning to say a bit more, but decided to quit since the post was already quite long by 'blog' standards.  Brevity, after all, is the soul, not only of wit, but of blog.  I was going to add something like this:

My aim in criticizing Butchvarov and other broadly Kantian idealists/nonrealists is not  to resurrect an Aristotelian or Aristotelian-Thomistic theory of knowledge, as if those gentlemen clearly had the truth, a truth we have somehow, post Descartes, forgotten.  My aim is to throw the problems themselves into the starkest relief possible.  This is in line with my conception of philosophy as fundamentally aporetic: the problems come first, solutions second, if ever.  A philosopher cannot be true to his vocation if he is incapable of inhibiting the very strong natural tendency to want answers, solutions, definite conclusions which he can live by and which will provide 'doxastic security' and legitimation of his way of life.    You are not a philosopher if you are out for solutions at all costs.  As Leo Strauss points out near the beginning of his essay on Thucydides, and elsewhere, the unum necessarium for the philosopher, the one thing needful, is free inquiry.  Inquiry, however, uncovers problems, difficulties, questions, and some of these are reasonably viewed as insolubilia.

The philosopher, therefore, is necessarily in tension with ideologues and dogmatists who claim to be in possession of the truth.  What did Socrates claim to know?  That he didn't know.  Of course, to be in secure possession of the truth (which implies knowing that one is in secure possession of it) is a superior state to be in than in the state of forever seeking it.  Obviously, knowing is better than believing, and seeing face-to-face is better than "seeing through a glass darkly." On the other hand, to think one has the truth when one doesn't is to be in a worse state than the state of seeking it.  For example, Muhammad Atta and the boys, thinking they knew the truth, saw their way clear to murdering 3000 people.

Your first question:  How can I believe that Butch's position is untenable while also considering it a serious alternative to realism?  Because I hold open the possibility that all extant (and future) positions are untenable.  In other words, I take seriously the possibility that the central problems of philosophy are genuine (contra the logical positivists, the later Wittgenstein, and such Freudian-Wittgensteinian epigoni as Morris Lazerowitz), important  -- what could count as important if problems relating to God and the soul are not important? -- but absolutely insoluble by us. 

Your second question:  How can I believe that metaphysical realism, despite its problems, addresses those problems adequately?  Well, I don't believe it addresses them adequately.

I would say your book is pretty much a response to those questions, but what I'm looking for is your understanding of what makes Butch's position so powerful.  What I have in mind is something like what [Stanley] Rosen does in The Elusiveness of the Ordinary, where in a couple of essays he makes clear that there is not going to be a way based on analysis or deduction to adjudicate between the Platonic and the Kantian claims - that is, the claims, respectively, that the "Forms" are external and mind-independent and that they are internal and mind-dependent.  The final two essays in the aforementioned book are Rosen's attempt to provide a way to tip the scales in favor of Plato, and I have to say I haven't really seen a better way to do it.

I haven't read Rosen's book, but I will soon get hold of it.  It will be interesting to see whether he has a compelling rational way of tipping the scales.

The point is that I was wondering if you thought, along those lines, that roughly speaking your form of realism and Butch's form of idealism form a similar sort of "fundamental alternative" in the way Rosen believes Platonism and Kantianism do.  And if so, I would be interested to see your take on what makes Butch's idealism (again roughly speaking) as something that cannot be truly defeated, but rather must be established as something of a less plausible vision of how things really stand.

 

Can any philosophical position be "truly defeated"?  I assume that we cherish the very highest standards of intellectual honesty and rigor and we are able to inhibit the extremely strong life-enhacing need for firm beliefs and tenets (etymologically from L. tenere, to hold, so that a tenet is literally something one holds onto for doxastic security and legitimation of one's modus vivendi.)  Now there are some sophomoric positions that can be definitively defeated, e.g., the relativist who maintains both that every truth is relative and that his thesis is nonrelatively true.  But in the history of philosophy has even one substantive position ever been "truly defeated," i.e., defeated to the satisfaction of all competent practioners?  (A competent practioner is one who possesses all the relevant moral and intellectual virtues, is apprised of all relevant empirical facts, understands logic, etc.)  I would say No.  But perhaps you have an example for me. 

 

Now why don't I think that I have defeated Butchvarov on any of the points we dispute?  Part of the reason is that he does not admit defeat.  If I cannot bring him to see that he is wrong about, say, nonexistent objects, then this gives me a very good reason to doubt that I am right and have truly refuted his position.  It seems to me that, unless one is an ideologue or a dogmatist, one must be impressed by the pervasive and long-standing fact of dissensus among the best and brightest.  Of course, I could be right and Butch wrong.  If he maintains that p and I maintain that not-p, then one of us is right and the other wrong.  But which one?  If I do not know that I am right, or know that he is wrong, then I haven't solved the problem that divides us.  It is not enough to be right, one must know that one is right and be able to diagnose convincingly how they other guy went wrong.

As for Platonism versus Kantianism, see my post on another latter-day Kantian, Milton Munitz, espceically the section on Platonic and Kantian intelligibility.  My Existence book avoids both Kantianism and Platonism by adopting an onto-theological idealism.  If the reality of the real traces back to divine mind, that is reality and realism enough, but it is also a form of idealism in that the real is not independent of mind as such.

 

As I've indicated in previous emails, I have always taken realism as a presumptive truth (in a general way) and I thus place the burden of truth [proof]  on idealism.  Kant impressed me, but he didn't convince me, and consequently I've never understood what it was exactly in realism that made people jump into the idealist camp.  That is, I've never understood that basic shift where someone takes idealism as presumptively true and thus places the burden of proof on realism.  What was so bad about realist arguments that made idealism so attractive as an alternative for these thinkers?

 

Well, this is a very large topic, but you can glean some idea of what motivated Kant to make his transcendental turn from his famous 1772 letter to Marcus Herz, part of which is here.  And then there is the metaphilosophical topic of burden of proof.  How does one justify a claim to the effect that the burden of proof lies on one or the other side of a dispute?  For you there is a (defeasible?) presumption in favor of realism, and that therefore the onus probandi lies on the nonrealist.  But what criteria do you employ in arriving at this judgment?

Is There a Good Introduction to Ethics?

A reader inquires, "Would you be able to give me 1-3 book titles that would provide a reasonable grounding in ethics?"

Does anyone have any suggestions?  William K. Frankena, Ethics would appear to fill the bill.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Do Clothes Make the Man?

Back in '65, I could relate to the message of The Yardbirds, Mister, You're a Better Man Than I.  Continuing with the sartorial theme, we have Charlie Rich, Mohair Sam.  Now that we've got Charlie Rich cued up, may as well give a listen to his Lonely Weekends.   Here is Rich again, followed by April Steven's parody, "No Hair Sam."  I'll pass on Marty Robbins' "White Sport Coat" and end with  ZZ Top, Sharp Dressed Man.

Hell

Over at The Constructive Curmudgeon I happened upon this quotation which is relevant to recent concerns:

The magnitude of the punishment matches the magnitude of the sin. Now a sin that is against God is infinite; the higher the person against whom it is committed, the graver the sin—it is more criminal to strike a head of state than a private citizen—and God is of infinite greatness. Therefore an infinite punishment is deserved for a sin committed against Him.
--Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Ia2ae. 87, 4.

 

Deducing John McCain from the Principle of Identity

What, if anything, is wrong with the following argument:

   1. (x)(x = x) (Principle of Identity)
   Therefore
   2. John McCain = John McCain (From 1 by Universal Instantiation)
   Therefore
   3. (Ex)(x = John McCain) (From 2 by Existential Generalization)
   Therefore
   4. John McCain exists. (From 3 by translation into ordinary idiom)

The initial premise states that everything is identical to itself, that nothing is self-diverse. Surely this is a necessary truth, one true no matter what, or in the jargon of possible worlds: true in every (broadly logically) possible world.

(2) follows from (1) by the intuitively clear inference rule of Universal Istantiation.  Surely, if everything is self-identical, then John McCain is  self-identical. The inferential move from (2) to (3) is also quite obvious: if McCain is self-identical, then something is identical to McCain. But (3) is just a complicated way of saying that John McCain exists. So we get the surprising result that the existence of John McCain is validly deducible from an a priori knowable necessary truth  of logic!

You understand, of course, that the argument is not about John McCain: it is about any nameable entity. Supposedly, Wilhelm Traugott Krug (1770-1842) once demanded of Hegel that he deduce Herr Krug's pen. If we name that pen 'Skip,' we can then put that name in the place of 'John McCain' and run the argument as before.

There is one premise and three inferences. Does anyone have the chutzpah to deny the premise? Will anyone make bold to question inference rules U.I. and E.G.? And yet surely something has gone wrong. Intuitively, the existence of a contingent being such as McCain cannot be deduced from an a priori knowable necessary truth of logic.  For that matter, the existence of a necessary being such as God cannot be deduced from an a priori knowable necessary truth of logic.  Surely nothing concrete, not even God, is such that its existence can be derived from the Law of  Identity.

So what we have above is an ontological argument gone wild whereby the  rabbit of real existence is pulled from the empty hat of mere logic!

St. Bonaventura said that if God is God, then God exists. If such  reasoning does not work in the case of God, then a fortiori it does not work  in the case of McCain or Herr Krug's pen.

Note that (1) is necessarily true. (It doesn't just happen to be the case that each thing is self-identical.) If (2) follows immediately  from (1), (2) is also necessarily true. And if (2) is necessarily true, then (3) is necessarily true. And the same holds for (4). But surely it is not the case that, necessarily, John McCain exists. He cannot be shown to exist by the above reasoning, and he certainly cannot be shown to necessarily exist by it.

So what went wrong? By my count there are three essentially equivalent ways of diagnosing the misstep.

A. One idea is that the argument leaves the rails in the transition from (3) to (4). All that (3) says is that something is identical to John McCain. But from (3) it does not follow that John McCain exists.   For the something in question might be a nonexistent something. After all, if something is identical to Vulcan, you won't conclude that  Vulcan exists. To move validly from (3) to (4), one needs the auxiliary premise:

3.5  The domain of quantification is a domain of existents only.

Without (3.5), John McCain might be a Meinongian nonexistent object. If he were, then everything would be logically in order up to (3). But  to get from (3) to (4) one must assume that one is quantifying over existents only.

But then a point I have been hammering away  at all my philosophical life is once again thrown into relief:  The misnamed 'existential' quantifier, pace Quine, does not express existence, it presupposes existence!

B. Or one might argue that the move from (1) to (2) is invalid. Although (1) is necessarily true, (2) is not necessarily true, but  contingently true: it is not true in possible worlds in which McCain does not exist. There are such worlds since he is a contingent being. To move validly from (1) to (2) a supplementary premise is needed:

1.5 'John McCain' refers to something that exists.

(1.5) is true in some but not all worlds. With this supplementary premise on board, the argument is sound. It also loses the  'rabbit-out-of-the-hat' quality. The original argument appeared to be  deducing McCain from a logical axiom. But now we see that the argument  made explicit does no such thing. It deduces the existence of McCain  from a logical axiom plus a contingent premise which is indeed   equivalent to the conclusion.

C. Finally, one might locate the error in the move from (2) to (3). No doubt McCain = McCain, and no doubt one can infer therefrom that something is identical to McCain. But this inferential move is not existential generalization, if we are to speak accurately and nontendentiously, but particular generalization. On this diagnosis,  the mistake is to think that the particular quantifier has anything to do with existence. It does not. It does not express existence, pace Quine, it expresses the logical quantity someness.

In sum, one cannot deduce the actual existence of a contingent being from a truth of logic alone. One needs existential 'input.' It follows that there has to be more to existence than someness, more than what  the 'existential' quantifier expresses. The thin conception of existence,  therefore, cannot be right.

Now let me apply these results to what Peter Lupu has lately been arguing.   Here he argues:

(i) (x)(x=x);

(ii) a=a, for any arbitrarily chosen object a; (from (i))

(iii) (Ex)(x=a); (from (ii) by existential generalization);

Now, (i) is necessary, but (iii) is contingent. Yet (i) entails (iii) via (ii), which is also necessary. So I simply do not see how the principle (1*) which you and Jan seem to accept applies in modal logics that include quantification plus identity.

Peter thinks he has a counterexample to the principle that if p entails q, and p is necessary, then q is also necessary.  For he thinks that *(x)( x = x)*, which is necessary, entails *(Ex)(x = a)*, which is contingent.

But surely if *a = a* is necessary, i.e. true in all worlds, then *(Ex)(x = a)* is necessary as well.

The mistake in Peter's reasoning comes in with the move from *Necessarily, (x) (x = x)* to *Necessarily, a = a*.   For surely it is false that in every possible world, a = a.  After all, there are worlds in which a does not exist, and an individual cannot have a property in a world in which it doesn't exist.  One must distinguish between essential and necessary self-identity.  Every individual is essentially (as opposed to accidentally) self-identical: no individual can exist without being self-identical.  But only some individuals are necessarily self-identical, i.e, self-identical in every world.  Socrates, for example, is essentially but not necessarily self-identical: he is self-identical in every world in which he exists (but, being contingent, he doesn't exist in every world).  By contrast, God is both essentially and necessarily self-identical: he is self-identical in every world, period (because he is a necessary being).   

Does Any Noncontingent Proposition Entail a Contingent Proposition?

This post continues the discussion in the comment thread of an earlier post.  

Propositions divide into the contingent and the noncontingent.  The noncontingent divide into the necessary and the impossible.  A proposition is contingent iff it is true in some, but not all, broadly logical possible worlds, 'worlds' for short.   A proposition is necessary iff it is true in all worlds, and impossible iff it true in none.  A proposition p entails a proposition q iff there is no world in which p is true and q false.

The title question divides into two:  Does any impossible proposition entail a contingent proposition?  Does any necessary proposition entail a contingent proposition?

As regards the first question, yes.  A proposition A of the form p & ~p is impossible.  If B is a contingent proposition, then there is no possible world in which  A is true and B false.  So every impossible proposition entails every contingent proposition.  This may strike the reader as paradoxical, but only if he fails to realize that 'entails' has all and only the meaning imputed to it in the above definition.

As for the second question, I say 'No' while Peter Lupu says 'Yes.'  His argument is this:
1. *Bill = Bill* is necessary.
2. *Bill = Bill* entails *(Ex)(x = Bill)*
3. *(Ex)(x = Bill)* is contingent.
Ergo
4. There are necessary propositions that entail contingent propositions.

Note first that for (2) to be true, 'Bill' must have a referent and indeed an existing referent.  'Bill' cannot be a vacuous (empty) name, nor can it have a nonexisting 'Meinongian' referent.  Now (3) is surely true given that 'Bill' is being used to name a particular human being, and given the obvious fact that human beings are contingent beings.  So the soundness of the argument rides on whether (1) is true.

I grant that Bill is essentially self-identical: self-identical in every world in which he exists.  But this is not to say that Bill is necessarily self-identical: self-identical in every world.  And this for the simple reason that Bill does not exist in every world.  So I deny (1).  It is not the case that Bill = Bill in every world.  He has properties, including the 'property' of self-identity, only in those worlds in which he exists.

My next post will go into these matters in more detail.

Addendum 28 May 2011.  Seldom Seen Slim weighs in on Peter's argument as follows:

I believe your reply to Peter is correct. It follows from how we should define constants in 1st order predicate logic. A domain or possible world is constituted by the objects it contains. Constants name those objects. If a domain has three objects, D = {a,b,c}, then the familiar expansion for identity holds in that domain, i.e., (x) (x = x) is equivalent to a = a and b = b and c = c. But notice that this is conditional and the antecedent asserts the existence in D of (the objects named by) a, b, and c. Thus premise 2 of Peter's argument is actually a conditional: IF a exists in some domain D, then a = a in D. The conclusion (3) must also be a conditional: if a exists in D , then something  in D is self-indentical. That of course does not assert the existential Peter wants from (x)(x = x). Put simply, a = a presumes [presupposes] rather than entails that a exists.

Socialist, Shmocialist

It is a tactical mistake for libertarians and conservatives to label Obama a socialist.  For what will happen, has happened: liberals will revert to a strict definition and point out that Obama is not a socialist by this definition.  Robert Heilbroner defines socialism in terms of "a centrally planned economy in which the government controls all means of production."  To my knowledge, Obama has never advocated such a thing.  So when the libertarian or conservative accuses Obama of socialism he lets himself in for a fruitless and wholly unnecessary verbal dispute from which he will emerge the loser.

It is enough to point out that the policies of Obama and the Democrat Party lead us toward bigger government and away from self-reliance, individual responsibility, and individual liberty.

It is even worse to label him a 'communist.'  Every communist is a socialist, but not every socialist is a communist.  If our president is not a socialist, then a fortiori he is not a communist.  It is intellectually irresponsible to take a word that has a definite meaning and turn it into a semantic bludgeon.  That's the sort of thing we expect from leftists, as witness their favorite 'F' word, 'fascist,' a word they apply as indiscriminately as 'racist.' 

"But haven't you yourself said, more than once, that politics is war conducted by other means?"  Yes, I have said it, and more than once.  In the end that's what politics is.  I call it the Converse Clausewitz Principle.  But we are not quite at the end.  Before we get there we should exhaust the possibilities of civil and reasonable debate.

"But what if the tactic of labeling Obama a socialist or even a communist would keep him from a second term.  Wouldn't that inaccurate labeling then be justified?"  That's a very tough question.  An affirmative answer would seem to commit one to the principle that the end justifies the means -- in which case we are no better than liberals/leftists.  On the other hand, how can one play fair with those who will do anything to win?

The Joys of Philosophy

One of the joys of philosophy is the joy of exploring the cartography of ideas, the landscape of the mind, the contours of the noosphere.   And all of this whether or not we arrive at truth.

Physics and the Immortality of the Soul

A Scientific American article the critique of which I will leave as an exercise for my readers.

Idolatry and Iconoclasm: A Weilian Meditation

In one of its senses, superstition involves attributing to an object powers it cannot possess. But the same thing is involved in idolatry. Someone who makes an idol of money, for example, attributes to it a power it cannot possess such as the power to confer happiness on those who have it. So we need to work out the relation between superstition and idolatry.

What is idolatry? I suggest that its essence consists in absolutizing the relative and finite. To make an idol is to take something of limited value and relative being and treat it as if it were of unlimited value and absolute being. Practically anything can be idolized including pleasure, money, property, name and fame, another human being, family, friends, country, the Party, the Revolution.  There are theologians who idolize their idea of God.  

Money, for example, is instrumentally good, and undeniably so. I think it is a plain mistake to consider money evil or the root of evil, as I  argue in Radix Omnium Malorum. But its value cannot be absolute since money is relational in its very nature as a means to an end.

To idolize money, to pursue it as if it were a thing of absolute value, is to commit a philosophical mistake -- even if there is no  God. For only something absolute is worthy of worship, and money is   not absolute. If there is no absolute reality, then nothing is worthy of worship and everything should be treated as relative and finite  including one's own life. If there is an absolute reality, God for example, then everything other than this absolute reality should be treated as relative and finite.

If there is no God, then idolatry is a philosophical mistake. If there is a God, then idolatry is both a philosophical and a religious mistake, and as the latter, a sin.  Man is both an idol-erector and an idol-smasher. Our setting up of idols is rooted in a deep spiritual need to worship, honor, respect, and glorify. We need to look up to something.  But we are limited sense-bound creatures who tend to  latch onto foreground objects in the mistaken hope that they can satisfy us. We think a job, a house, a man, a woman, will satisfy us.   What we want they can't provide, but failing to realize this we succumb to the illusion of attributing to them powers to satisfy us that they cannot have. What is romantic love if not the illusion that possession of man or a woman could make one completely happy?

Idolatry gives rise to iconoclasm. Idol-positing leads to idol-smashing. What is revealed as hollow and unsatisfactory is destroyed in the name of the truly valuable. Both our tendency to erect idols and to smash them derives from our being oriented to the Absolute, our being unsatisfiable by the merely finite. Idolatry is the mistake of absolutizing the relative, infinitizing the finite. Iconoclasm tries to undo the mistake by destroying the would-be absolutes in the name of the true Absolute. It runs the risk, however, of falling into nihilism.  In the twilight of the idols there arises the specter of nihilism, a specter which, despite all his heroic efforts, Nietzsche could not lay.

In Gravity and Grace (Routledge 1995, p. 53), Simone Weil writes:

     Idolatry comes from the fact that, while thirsting for absolute
     good, we do not possess the power of supernatural attention and we
     have not the patience to allow it to develop.

What Weil is saying is that the absolute good is accessible only to inner listenting, inner passivity, an attentive stillness of the mind and heart. But cultivating such attention demands a patience we do not possess. So we create idols to do duty for the transcendent and inaccessible Absolute.

True religion is actually the enemy of idolatry and superstition. One who worships the true God sees the finite as finite and is secure against the illusion that the finite is ultimate. The true religionist is a bit of an iconoclast and indeed an atheist since he denies the God made in man's image. As Weil puts it, "Of two men who have no experience of God, he who denies him is perhaps nearer to him than the
other." (p. 103)

Bob Dylan Turns 70

In lieu of the proper post that I intended to write today, here is a video on Biblical elements in Dylan's work.

Leftists Have Their Secular Doomsdays

And these haven't come to pass.

Hyphenation and Other Punctilios of Grammar

Dear Bill,

Being someone who uses gerunds not only correctly but elegantly and bothers to hyphenate compound modifiers, you'll appreciate, I hope, my noting that '20 year old' should be '20 year-old' because it is a hyphenated noun. Were ;">we to make his age adjectival by the addition of an extra noun, though, an extra hypen would be required, as in 'the 20-year-old man'.

Best wishes,
Will. 

I accept the correction, Will.  But there is a residual puzzle. How can '20' modify the noun 'year-old'?  There is also the question whether I should have written 'twenty' instead of '20.'   This is clearly bad writing: 'He gave me 5 books.'  Correct is: 'He gave me five books.'  But few will write, 'He gave me five thousand four hundred and seventy seven books' instead of 'He gave me 5,477 books.'

There is no end to punctiliousness once you start down that road.  For example, I just used 'you' in a slightly nonstandard way.  And as for hyphens, should we follow the Teutonic tendency of letting them fall into desuetude? 'Nonstandard' or 'non-standard'?  'Truth maker' or 'truth-maker' or 'truthmaker'?

 Do you say, 'The engine whose plugs are fouled?' or 'The engine the plugs of which are fouled'?  I prefer the latter despite its stiltedness.  An engine is not a person.  And if you don't agree with me on this point, will you say it is acceptable to write, 'The man that was shot' rather than 'The man who was shot'?

'She hanged herself' is correct.  But few nowadays are observant of the 'hanged'/'hung' distinction.

But should a writer like me, who aspires to a certain muscular elegance in his style, be using a slightly quaint and archaic, and perhaps even obsolete word such as 'nowadays'?

I distinguish 'each other' from 'one another' and call down my anathema upon those who write like this:  'Due to  their almost exclusive association with each other, liberals reinforce their political correctness.'

And so it goes.  

How Could an Impassible God be Offended or Know Any Contingent Fact?

Earlier (here and here) I asked how an all-good God could sentence a human agent to sempiternal punishment, punishment that has a beginning but no end.  If the punishment must fit the crime, and the crimes of finite agents are themselves finite, then it would seem that no one, no matter what his crimes, would deserve sempiternal punishment.  To make this a bit more precise we ought to substitute 'sin' for 'crime.'  They are different concepts.  Sin, but not crime, implies an offense to God.  If there is no God then there cannot, strictly speaking, be any sin.  But there could still be crime relative to an accepted body of positive law.  And if there is no positive law, but there is a God, then there could be sin but no crime.  (Positive law is the law posited by human legislators.) 

So let us say that the punishment must fit the sin.  My claim, then, is that no sin or sins committed by a human agent is such as to merit sempiternal punishment.  To put the point more sharply, a God who would condemn a finite human agent to unending misery is a moral monster, and not God.  (I am assuming that the agent in question has come to admit the error of his ways and is truly sorry for them. I have no problem with the unending misery of a recalcitrant rebel.) 

In response, Leo Mollica said that the offense to God, as an offense to a being of infinite dignity, is itself infinite and so deserves sempiternal punishment.  This prompted me to ask how an impassible God could be offended, which is the topic of this post.

Impassibility.  To say that God is impassible is to say that nothing external to God can affect God.  As Brian Leftow points out in his SEP article, impassibility is not the same as immutability.  He gives two reasons, but all we need is one: a God who induces a change in himself is not immutable but still could be impassible.  Now if God is impassible, then he cannot be offended by the antics of the Israelites as when they fell to worshipping a golden calf, etc.  He cannot be offended by sin.  And if he cannot be offended by sin, then he cannot be 'infinitely' offended by it.  Or so I maintained.

In response Mollica made a clever move.  He pointed out, rightly, that a person could be offended (wronged, slandered, calumniated, etc.) without knowing that he is.  Such a person would be offended without being affected.  I took the suggestion to be that God too could be offended without being affected.  Thus impassibility does not rule out God's being offended.

To this my reply was that God is omniscient.  He knows everything there is to know. So although it is true that a finite person could be offended without knowing it, and so not affected by the injury that was done to him, God could not be offended without knowing it. Good Thomist that he is, Mollica came back at me with the notion that God is not affected by what he knows.  So when the creature sins, God is offended; but his being offended in no way affects him:  he is not affected 'cognitively' by his knowledge that he is being offended, nor is he affected or injured  'morally' by his being offended.

Very interesting, but very problematic, as problematic as the Thomist line on divine knowledge.  If God is God, then he must be a metaphysical absolute and the pressure is on to say that he is both impassible and immutable.  (An immutable being is one that cannot undergo 'real' as opposed to 'mere Cambridge' change.)  After all, a decent absolute is not the sort of thing that could change or be affected by other things. If it underwent change or affection it would be relativized. But how could such an unchanging  God know anything contingent?  If God is unchanging, then his knowledge is unchanging: it cannot vary over time, or from possible world to possible world.  Here is an argument adapted from  Hartshorne.

1.  If p entails q, and q is contingent, then p is contingent.
2. *Tom sins at time t* is contingent.
3. *God knows that Tom sins at t* entails *Tom sins at t*.
Therefore
4. *God knows that Tom sins at t* is contingent.
Therefore
5. The property of knowing that Tom sins at t is an accidental (not essential) property of God.
6. God has no accidental properties: it is no part of his unchangeable essence that he know any contingent fact, any fact that could have been otherwise.
7. (5) and (6) are contradictories.  So one of the premises must be rejected.  (6) is the premise most plausibly rejected; but then impassibility and immutability go by the boards.

The challenge for our resident Thomist is to explain how an impassible and immutable God can know any contingent fact.

Bad to Die Young but Not Bad to Die? An Aporetic Dyad

Herewith, a rumination on death with Epicurus as presiding shade. The following two propositions are both logically inconsistent and yet very plausible:

1. Being dead is not an evil for anyone at any time. 

2. Being dead at a young age is an evil for some.

Obviously, the limbs of the dyad cannot both be true.  Each entails the negation of the other.  And yet each limb lays serious claim to our acceptance. 

(1) is rendered credible by Epicurean reasoning along the following lines. It is reasonably maintained that bodily death is annihilation of the self or person.  Now in the absence of a person, there is nothing to possess properties, experiential or not, such as  being conscious, being dead, being nonexistent, etc. We are assuming that a person's corpse cannot be the subject of the putative state of being dead.  When I am dead and thus nonexistent my corpse will continue to exist for a time.  (Assuming my end doesn't come in the form of 'vaporization.') But I am not my corpse.   My being dead is not my corpse's being dead, for it is not dead: only what was once alive can properly be said to be dead, and my corpse is never alive.  I am dead, if I am, not my corpse.  So my corpse cannot be the subject of the putative state of my being dead.  And anyway my being dead will obtain at future times when my corpse will not exist.  So for this reason too my corpse cannot be the subject of the putative state of my being dead.

There is, then, no subject of being dead if death is annihilation.  Since there is no subject, there is, strictly speaking, no state of my being dead.  A state is a state of something in the state, and in this case nothing is in the state.  It follows that the 'state' of my being dead cannot be an evil state.  There is no such state, so it can't be evil -- or good, or anything.  It furthermore follows that being dead cannot rationally be feared -- or looked forward to either. 'I'll be glad when I'm dead 'makes  as little  sense given the cogency of the Epicurean reasoning as 'I'll be sad when I'm dead' or Warren Zevon's 'I'll sleep when I'm dead.' 

Support for (2) has its source in a widely-accepted intuition.  Suppose a happy, healthy, well-situated 20 year old full of life and promise dies suddenly and painlessly in a freak accident.  Almost all will agree that in cases like this being dead (which we distinguish from both the process and the event of dying) is an evil, and therefore neither good nor axiologically neutral.  It is an evil for the person who is dead whether or not it is an evil for anyone else.  It is an evil because it deprives him of all the intrinsic goods he would have enjoyed had he not met an untimely end.

It is not quite the same for the 90 year old.  One cannot be deprived of the impossible (as a matter of conceptual necessity), and the older one gets the closer the approach to the nomologically impossible.  (I assume that there is some age -- 150?  -- at which it become nomologically impossible for what could reasonably count as a human being to continue to live.) So one cannot employ the same reasoning in the two cases.  If we say that the being dead of the 20 year old is bad because it deprives him of future goods, we cannot give the same reason for the badness ( if it is badness) of the being dead of the 90 year old.  Someone who lives a life that is on balance happy and healthy and productive and then dies of natural causes at 90 or 100 is arguably not deprived of anything by his being dead. 

The problem, then, is that (1) and (2) cannot both be true, yet each is plausible.

The Philosopher

A philosopher is one to whom the large impersonal questions matter personally.

Literary Remains

Rare is the scribbler whose literary remains deserve a fate superior  to the one that awaits his mortal coil.

Just Say 'No' to Panhandlers

What do you do when a beggar approaches you on the street? Do you give him money? I've given away food, but as a general rule it is foolish and wrong to give money to bums. Once, in downtown Phoenix, I came out of a rib joint with a box of luscious leftovers. A beggar approached asking for money for food. I opened the box, showed him the ribs, and said, "If you are  hungry, you can have these." He thankfully accepted the gift and we both went away satisfied.

But if a bum asks for money, I refuse, sometimes adding, 'Get a job.' This isn't the Great Depression. There are jobs galore. That's why there is a Mexican invasion.

Beggars are for the most part scammers and liars. A bum in Hawaii once asked me for a quarter to make a phone call. I foolishly gave him the quarter.  Later in the day, he passed me again and again asked for a quarter to make a phone call. (No, I am not hasty generalizing, I am illustrating a general proposition to the effect that bums are for the most part liars and scammers.) If you give beggars money, they will buy alcohol or drugs with it. Do you want to contribute to their further degradation? Do you want more inebriated people on the streets?  Do you give any thought to what the bums do to others when drunk?  But even if they use the money for a good purpose, by giving them a handout, you undermine what little work ethic they have.

It is not easy to be genuinely helpful to others.  It takes thought, lest you make them worse. 

Of course, I don't expect the typical  liberal to understand this. For a guilt-ridden, feel-good liberal, one who substitutes emoting for thinking, one shows 'compassion' by contributing to people's dependence and degradation.  It is not that liberals intend to degrade and make dependent, but that is the unintended consequence of their unthinking  'compassion.'

The conservative who refuses to aid and abet unproductive behavior is the man of true compassion. For he gives the bum a reason to cease his bumming. This is why the expression 'compassionate conservative' is ill-advised. True conservatism is compassionate by its very nature. The expression 'compassionate conservative' is a foolish concession to the Left, suggesting as it does that conservatives are not as a rule compassionate. It is an expression like 'articulate black,' which   suggests that blacks are not as a rule articulate.

Further reading: Have a Heart, Give Smart.

 

Saturday Night at the Oldies: The Fire Down Below

This one goes out to Dominique Strauss-Kahn and all who allow the fires of lust to become the fires of delusion.  It goes well with Mark Steyn's The Unzippered Princeling and the Serving Wench.

From McTaggart to Rome

Peter Geach, Truth and Hope, University of Notre Dame Press, 2001, p. 9:

Soaking myself in McTaggart, I imbibed a desire for Heaven and eternal life, which of course I had not to abandon on becoming Catholic; and meanwhile I was preserved from giving my heart with total devotion to some less worthy end, as I saw many contemporaries doing.  Even as regards the relation of time and eternity I had no need to find McTaggart wholly mistaken.  God's life, the life of the Blessed Trinity, really is the sort of Boethian eternity that McTaggart ascribed to all persons; and we have the great and precious promise that, in a way we cannot now begin to understand, we shall transcend all the delusion and misery and wickedness of this life and become sharers in that eternal life.

No Eternal Punishment? Then Why Eternal Reward?

Suppose God exists and there is an afterlife the quality of which depends on how one behaves here below.  Suppose that the justice which is largely absent here will be meted out there.  And suppose we take as a moral axiom that the punishment must fit the crime.  The question then arises: what crime or series of crimes would merit everlasting post-mortem punishment of the perpetrator?  I earlier opined that no crime or series of crimes would merit such punishment.  Thus it is offensive to my moral sense that a just God would punish everlastingly a human evildoer.  (It may be otherwise with angelic evildoers such as Lucifer, so let's leave them out of the discussion.)  But I added a qualification  in my earlier post: unless the perpetrator wanted to maintain himself in a state of rebellion against God, in which case my moral sense would have no problem with God's granting the rebel his wish and maintaining him in a state of everlasting exclusion from the divine light and succor. 

Suppose that, after death, Stalin sees the errors of his ways and desires to come into right relation with God.  He must still be punished for his horrendous crimes. Surely justice demands that much.  What I fail to grasp, however, is how justice could demand that Stalin be punished everlastingly or eternally (if you care to distinguish eternity from everlastingness) for a finite series of finite crimes. 

Discussing my earlier post, Richard Hennessey raises an interesting counter-question:   ". . .  if justice demands an eternal or everlasting punishment for no finite sin or crime or finite set of finite sins or crimes, no matter how heinous, does justice demand an eternal or everlasting reward for no finite good deed or finite set of finite good deeds, no matter how virtuous?"  I think what Hennessey is asking here is better put as follows.  If justice rules out everlasting punishment for finite crimes, does it also rule out everlasting reward for finite good deeds? 

To sharpen the challenge, let's translate the interrogative into a declarative:  If no everlasting punishment is justified, then no everlasting reward is either.  If that is the point, then I could respond by saying that the Beatific Vision is not a reward  for good things we do here below, but the state intended for us all along.  It is something like a birthright or an inheritance.  One doesn't earn one's inheritance; it is a gift, not a reward.   But one can lose it.  Similarly with the Beatific Vision.  One cannot earn it, and one does not deserve it.  But one can lose it.

"But this is all speculation!"  Indeed, but if a philosopher can't speculate, who can?

Theomonism

Richard E. Hennessey coins the useful term 'theomonism' to describe the onto-theological position of Seyyed Hossein Nasr.  "Theomonism is the conjoint thesis that (1) there is but one and only one being, and thus the 'monism,' and (2) God is that being, and thus the 'theo.'"  So there is exactly one being, and that being is God.

One wonders what creation could be on such a scheme.  If God is the sole reality, and if, as is obvious, God is not a creature, then it would seem to follow that there are no creatures.  Moreover, if it is necessarily the case both that God is the sole reality and that God is not a creature, then it would seem to follow that it is impossible that there be any creatures.  How can it be true both that God is the sole reality and that God created the world?  Hennessey quotes Nasr:

Since the One God is Infinite and Absolute as well as the Infinitely Good, He could not but create. His Infinitude implies that he contains within Himself all possibilities, including that of negating Himself, and this possibility had to be realized in the form of creation.

Hennessey glosses the quotation as follows:

There seems, that is, to be at work here a thought sequence something like the following: The creation of the non-divine is the negation of the divine. Now the divine is the real and thus the negation of the divine is the negation of the real. But the negation of the real is the creation of the non-real. It follows, therefore, that the creation of the non-divine is the creation of the non-real.

Only those among [us] who think that the many extended changing beings surrounding us are genuinely real could object.

Well, it seems to me that one could reasonably object to Nasr's theomonism even if the plural world revealed to the senses is not taken to be genuinely real.  But it depends on what is meant by 'genuinely real.'  

There is a clear sense in which the plural world is genuinely real: it is not nothing.  Anyone who asserts that the plural world of planets and people, cabbages and computers, is literally nothing is either a fool or a sophist or doesn't understand the English language.  A second sense in which the plural world is genuinely real is that it is not an illusion.  This is not perfectly obvious and so requires a bit of arguing, but for now I take it as given that the world revealed by the outer senses (and their instrumental extensions) is not illusory.  It may be Erscheinung in  Kant's sense, but it cannot be Schein in his sense.  (One could perhaps mount a Contrast Argument: Soviel Schein, soviel Sein! to invoke a German proverb.)

So the plural world is not nothing, and it is not illusory.  But I would maintain that no one who holds that the plural world is a created world can maintain that the members of the plural world are independently real.  So if 'genuinely real' means 'independently real,' then I would deny that "the many extended changing beings surrounding us" are genuinely real.  They are not genuinely real because they are not independently real.  They lack plenary reality.  They are real all right; but dependently so.  Assuming creatio continuans, the denizens of the mundus sensibilis are dependent at every instant on divine support for their very existence.  That, I would urge, is an entailment of a sophisticated theism.

One could put the point by saying that God and creatures enjoy different modes of Being, but both truly are:  creatures are not nothing and they are not illusory.  This leads us back to the modes-of-Being problematic about which I have written a number of posts. (See Existence category.)

Nasr's theomonism is untenable because it denies a plain fact, namely, that there is a plural world.  That is a datum, a starting point, a fact that is surely more evident than the existence of God.  Extreme monism, a species of which is Nasr's theomonism, cannot accommodate the fact of plurality.  A tenable theism is a moderate monism according to which there is exactly one independently real being that serves as the ultimate ontological ground of the plurality of dependently real beings.

The One and the Many.  Each must be given its due. 

Victor Davis Hanson on Affirmative Action

Read it.

Was Moses High on Mount Sinai? If Yes, What Follows?

Benny Shanon is quoted by The Guardian as saying:

     As far as Moses on Mount Sinai is concerned, it was either a
     supernatural cosmic event, which I don't believe, or a legend,
     which I don't believe either. Or finally, and this is very
     probable, an event that joined Moses and the people of Israel under
     the effect of narcotics.

   and

     The thunder, lightning and blaring of a trumpet which the Book of
     Exodus says emanated from Mount Sinai could just have been the
     imaginings of a people in an altered state of awareness . . . In
     advanced forms of ayahuasca inebriation, the seeing of light is
     accompanied by profound religious and spiritual feelings.

These speculations of Professor Shanon raise some interesting questions. I take Shanon to be saying that Moses on Sinai (i) really did have an unusual experience, and that therefore there is nothing   legendary about the report in Exodus of this experience, but that (ii) this experience was not supernaturally caused, but caused by Moses' ingestion of a psychotropic drug, and that the etiology of the experience shows that the experience was nonveridical. Thus God did not reveal the Torah to Moses on Sinai; Moses had a drug-induced nonveridical experience of God revealing the Torah to him.

Question One

One question concerns the validity of the inference from

   1. Subject S under the influence of drug D experiences that p

   to

   2. S's experience that p is nonveridical.

Simply put, the question is whether one can validly infer the nonveridicality of an experience if the experience was had while the subject of the experience was under the influence of a drug.

Surely this is a non sequitur. Right now, under the influence of caffeine, I note that my coffee cup is empty. This is consistent with the perceptual experience of the cup's being empty being veridical,   which it is. So from the mere fact that a subject is 'on drugs,' it does not follow that that any of the subject's experiences are nonveridical. Now caffeine is a very mild drug. But suppose I was I was on a combination of caffeine, nicotine, marijuana, and methampehtamine. Even then one could not infer that the perception in question was nonveridical. Even on a dose of LSD-25 most of one's perceptual experiences remain veridical. In the case of Moses, from the fact, if it is a fact, that he was under the influence of a psychotropic drug while on Sinai, it does not follow that his experience of being addressed by God and being given the Decalogue was nonveridical.

(And anyway, aren't we always on 'drugs'?  The consciousness we enjoy in this life is brain-mediated, and the brain is the site of innumerable electro-chemical reactions.  In this life at least, 'No consciousness without chemistry.'  Our brains are always 'on drugs.'  But we don't take this fact as ruling out veridical perceptions, valid reasonings, true judgments, correct moral intuitions, etc.)

Returning to the case at hand, if you begin by assuming that there is no God, then it is plausible to explain the Sinai experience by saying that it was drug-induced. But that simply begs the question against the theist.

The crucial point is that a subject's being on drugs is logically consistent with the veridicality of his experiences; therefore, one cannot infer from the fact, if it is a fact, that Moses was under the   influence of a psychedelic or psychotropic drug that his experience was nonveridical. And that holds true for anyone's mystical or religious experience. 

If, however, there were independent reasons for believing that a certain experience was nonveridical, then one could explain the occurrence of the experience in terms of the influence of the drug.  But the occurrence/nonoccurrence of an experience is not to be confused with the veridicality/nonveridicality of the content of an experience.  So questions about how an experience arose, whether by normal or abnormal means, are distinct from questions about the content of the experience.  To fail to observe this distinction may lead one to commit the Genetic Fallacy.  It is so-called to highlight the fact that questions about origin or genesis are logically independent of questions about truth and falsehood.  If it has been antecedently established that the content of an experience is nonveridical, then it is legitimate to inquire into the origins of the experience.  But one cannot demonstrate  that the content of the experience is nonveridical by adducing facts about its origin.

So even if Shanon could prove that Moses and the people around him were under the influence of powerful drugs, that would not support his contention that nothing supernatural occurred on Sinai. It would not because it is consistent with theism. How does Shanon know that the drugs Moses supposedly took did not open "the doors of perception" (in Aldous Huxley's phrase) allowing him access to the transcendent, as opposed to shutting him up among figments of his own imagination?

Question Two

There is a second question whose full discussion should be reserved for a subsequent post. It is clear that mathematical and other truths can be grasped whether one is awake or dreaming, sober or drunk, on drugs or not. Sometimes when I dream I know that I am dreaming.  This awareness that I am dreaming is veridical despite the fact that I have it while dreaming.  After all, I am not dreaming that I am dreaming.  Or if a valid proof occurs to a mathematician in a dream, it is no less valid because the mathematician is dreaming. Why should not the same hold for moral truths? If it is true that it is morally obligatory not to kill human beings, then the experiencing of this truth is veridical whether or not the subject is awake or sleeping, sober or drunk, on drugs or not. So even if it could be proven that  Moses was under the influence of powerful drugs on Sinai, what  relevance would that have? At the very most it might cast doubt on the  veridicality of Moses' perception of God, but not on the veridicality of his experiencing of the content of the Decalogue. If it is true that one ought not kill, then it is true whether or not God exists.  And if it is true that one ought not kill, then one's intuiting that  it is true is veridical whether one is awake of dreaming, sober or drunk, on drugs or not, or a brain in a vat as opposed to a brain in a skull.

Suppose that all of Moses' perceptions of unusual physical phenomena while he was on Mt. Sinai were hallucinatory and thus nonveridical as the result of his ingestion of a drug.  Suppose there was no burning bush, etc.  It could still have been the case that he had veridical insights into objective moral truths. 

X-Cons: Conservatism in the Gen-X Cohort

A perceptive article by Joe Carter.

Most of us Boomers dropped 'groovy' and 'far out' by the end of '60s.  You Gen-Xers ought to drop 'awesome.' 

Advice on Sex from Epicurus

Epicurus (circa 341-271 B.C.) wrote the following to a disciple:

     I understand from you that your natural disposition is too much
     inclined toward sexual passion. Follow your inclinations as you
     will provided only that you neither violate the laws, disturb
     well-established customs, harm any one of your neighbors, injure
     your own body, nor waste your possessions. That you be not checked
     by some one of these provisos is impossible; for a man never gets
     any good from sexual passion, and he is fortunate if he does not
     receive harm. (Italics added, Letters, Principal Doctrines, Vatican
     Sayings, trans. R. M. Geer, Macmillan, 1987, pp. 69-70)

Had Bill Clinton heeded this advice, kept his penis in harness, and his paws off the overweight intern, he might have left office with an impressive legacy indeed. But instead he will schlep down the  centuries tied to Monica like Abelard to Heloise -- except for the fact that he got off a lot easier than poor Abelard.

Closer to home is the case of Robert Blake whose lust led him into a tender trap that turned deadly. He was very lucky to be acquitted of the murder of Bonnie Lee Bakeley. Then there was the case of the dentist whose extramural activities provoked his dentist wife to run him down with the family Mercedes. The Bard had it right: "Hell hath  no fury like a woman scorned."

Most recently, Dominique Strauss-Kahn has secured himself a place in the annals of libertinage while wrecking his career.  Ah, those sophisticated Frenchmen.

This litany of woe can be lengthened ad libitum. My motive is not Schadenfreude, but a humble desire to learn from the mistakes of others. Better that they rather than I should pay my tuition in the school of Hard Knocks.  Heed me, muchachos, there is no more delusive power on the face of the  earth than sex. Or as a Turkish proverb has it, Erkegin sheytani kadindir, "Man's devil is woman." And conversely.

Butchvarov on Metaphysical Realism and Logical Nonrealism

This post is a  stab at a summary and evaluation of Panayot Butchvarov's "Metaphysical Realism and Logical Nonrealism" which is available both online and in R. M. Gale, ed., The Blackwell Guide to Metaphysics (Oxford: Blackwell 2002), pp. 282-302.  Page references are to the Blackwell source. The ComBox stands open if readers have some informed commentary to offer. ('Informed' means that you have read Butchvarov's paper, and my response, and you have something pertinent to contribute either in objection to or agreement with either Butchvarov or me.)

David Gordon to Teach Course on Ayn Rand

I received an e-mail message this morning from David Gordon of the Ludwig von Mises Institute.  He tells me that he will be teaching an online course entitled Ayn Rand and Objectivism.  He also informs me that the Rand crowd, having got wind of the fact, have begun attacking him.  They focus on Gordon's 1994 Journal of Libertarian Studies review of Peikoff's Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand.  A bit of the review is reproduced below. I have added some comments in blue and have marked some passages I consider important in red.

Physicists Should Do Physics but Otherwise Keep Their Mouths Shut

Proof.

An Argument for Direct Reference

Edward Ockham uses  ‘Direct Reference’ to refer to "the theory that part or all of the meaning of a proper name requires the existence of a named object."  This implies that a proper name cannot have a meaning unless there exists an object it names.  He then gives the following argument:

A term signifies either a property or an object.  But properties are repeatable.  A property like being white, or running, or being bald can be instantiated by many individuals.  Even a property that can only be had by one individual at a time (being the tallest living philosopher) can be instantiated by different individuals at successive times, or could be instantiated by a different individual than the one that possesses it now.  If a proper name like 'Socrates' signified a property, even a unique property, it would make sense to say that this individual is Socrates on Tuesday, but that someone else is Socrates on Wednesday.  Or that this individual is Socrates today, but might not have been Socrates.  But that makes no sense.  A proper name does [NOT] signify something that is repeatable, therefore does not signify a property.  Therefore it signifies an object.  Therefore an object is part or all of the meaning of a proper name, and the theory of Direct Reference, as defined above, is true.

As it stands, this argument is not compelling.  To be compelling, it would have to close off the 'haecceity escape route.'  Haecceitas is Latin for 'thisness.'  Let us say that H is an haecceity property, an haecceity for short, if and only if H is a first-level property which, if instantiated, is instantiated by the same individual ('object' in Edward's terminology) at every time and in every possible world in which it is instantiated.  Accordingly, 'the tallest living philosopher' does not express an haecceity property:  it has different instances at different times and at different possible worlds, even though at a given time in a given world it has only one instance.  If there are haecceity properties, then they are not repeatable, i.e., multiply instantiable, whether at different times or in different worlds.

Consider the property of being identical to Socrates. If there is such a property, it can serve as the sense of 'Socrates,' or, to use Edward's word, that which 'Socrates' "signifies."  In the case of a vacuous proper name such as 'Vulcan,' the property of being identical to Vulcan  could serve as its sense.  If this is tenable, then 'Vulcan' is a genuine proper name despite it having no referent, and the Direct Reference theory as defined above is false.

Haecceities can either be nonqualitattive or qualitative.  Identity-with-Socrates is an example of a nonqualitative haecceity.  But one can imagine an haecceity property that is compounded out of qualitative properties where the latter are not tied to specific individuals in the way in which identity-with-Socrates is tied to the individual Socrates.  The logical construction goes like this.  We first form the huge conjunction K1 of all the qualitative properties that Socrates instantiates in the actual world.  K has as conjuncts being snubnosed, being married, being a plebeian, being poor, etc.  We do the same for every possible world in which Socrates exists.  This yields a series of conjunctive properties, K1, K2, K3, etc.  We then make a monstrous disjunctive property each disjunct of which is one of the Ks.  This property is Socrates' qualitative haecceity.  It is a property but it is clearly not repeatable (multiply instantiable).  If there are such properties, they defeat Edward's argument above.

I myself do not believe in haecceity properties, nonqualitative or qualitative.  See A Difficulty With Haecceity Properties.  My point is that Edward's argument above is not compelling unless he can persuasively exclude them.

Now, given that I reject haecceity properties, I ought to find the above argument compelling.  But this lands me in a quandry.  For I hesitate to say that 'Vulcan' or 'Pegasus' are not proper names.  They seem to be perfectly good proper names albeit vacuous.  If so, then no part of their meaning involves the existence of a referent, and the DR theory is false.

Or consider 'Moses.'  Was there some one man who received, or claimed to receive, the Torah from YHWH on Mount Sinai?  Aren't we strongly tempted to say that the meaning of 'Moses' is what it is whether or not Moses existed?  If we say that, then it can be no part of the name's meaning that it have an existing referent.  Nor can it be any part of the name's meaning that there be a causal chain leading back to an initial baptism.  If Moses never existed, then there was nothing to baptize. 

Spend It Now or Pass It On?

The quality of  his heirs
Must give pause
To him whose loot
Is slated for their jaws.

A rather more classical meditation on this theme we find in  Horace.

Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae
     tempora di superi?
Cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico
     quae dederis animo. 

Who knows if Jove who counts our score
Will toss us in a morning more?
What with your friend you nobly share
At least you rescue from your heir. (Samuel Johnson)

Who know if the gods above will add the hours of tomorrow
 to the total of today?
Whatever you give to your own dear self will escape
 the greedy hands of your heir. (David West)

Who knows if heav’n will give to-morrow’s boon
 To this our daily pray’r?
The goods you take to keep your soul in tune,
 Shall scape your greedy heir. (Christopher Smart)

James Rachels’ Argument from Moral Autonomy Against the Existence of God*

A guest post by Peter Lupu.  Minor edits and a comment (in blue) by BV.

In an intriguing paper “God and Moral Autonomy”, James Rachels offers what he calls “The Moral Autonomy Argument” against the existence of God. The argument is based on a certain analysis of the concept of worship and its alleged incompatibility with moral autonomy (pp. 9-10; all references are to the Web version). I will first present Rachels’ argument verbatim. Next I will point out that in order for the argument to be valid, additional premises are required. I will then supply the additional premises and recast the argument accordingly in a manner consistent with what I take to be Rachels’ original intent. While the resulting argument is valid, I will argue that it is not sound. Despite its deficiency, however, Rachels’ argument points towards something important. In the final section I will try to flesh out this important element.

Rachels’ Argument Verbatim (p. 10):

“1. If any being is God, he must be a fitting object of worship.

2. No being could possibly be a fitting object of worship, since worship requires the abandonment of one’s role as an autonomous moral agent.

3. Therefore, there cannot be any being who is God.”

Obviously, this argument is not valid. While the two premises have the form of if-then conditionals, the conclusion is not a conditional statement. There is no way of deriving an unconditional statement from conditional premises alone. Clearly, some additional premises are required. Let me now recast the argument in a valid form. I shall take the liberty to reword some of the premises so that their logical form is more apparent.

(A) First Modified Argument from Moral Autonomy:

1*) Necessarily, if God exists, then God is a fitting object of worship;

2*) If worship requires abandoning autonomous moral agency, then it is not the case that God is a fitting object of worship;  

3*) Worship requires abandoning autonomous moral agency.

Therefore,

4*) God does not exist.

Argument (A) is valid. The question is whether it is sound. Rachels maintains that premise (1*) is something like a logical truth. He says: “That God is not to be judged, challenged, defied, or disobeyed is at bottom a truth of logic. To do any of these things is incompatible with taking him as one to be worshiped.” (p. 8). So we are asked to assume that the very concept of God includes the concept of being worthy or fitting of worship, in the sense that being worthy or fitting of worship logically excludes one from being able to judge, challenge, defy, or disobey God. Let us grant this claim for now.

Rachels further claims that premise (3*) is supported by “a long tradition in moral philosophy, from Plato to Kant,…” (p. 9). Such support would go something like this. Worshiping any being worthy of worship requires the worshiper to recognize such a being as having absolute authority. Absolute authority in turn entails an “unqualified claim of obedience.” (p.9). But, no human being, qua autonomous moral agent, can recognize an “unqualified claim of obedience”. Hence, no human being qua autonomous moral agent can recognize any such absolute authority. Therefore, human beings cannot worship God without abandoning their autonomous moral agency.

What about premise (2*)? I think premise (2*) is false. And this fact reveals the underlying problem with Rachels’ argument. For suppose that the antecedent of premise (2*) is true. Does it follow from this fact alone that God is not a fitting object for worship? No such thing follows, for it may still be true that God is a fitting object of worship by creatures that are not autonomous moral agents. Or to put the matter somewhat more precisely: even if we suppose that worship requires abandoning autonomous moral agency, what follows from this assumption is that God is not a fitting object of worship by a being, qua autonomous moral agent. Of course, God may still be a fitting object of worship by a being as long as that being abandons their autonomy while worshiping.

If this is correct, then premise (2*) is false and, therefore, argument (A) is not sound. Clearly, we need to modify Rachels’ argument once again:

(B) Second Modified Argument from Moral Autonomy:

(1**) Necessarily, if God exists, then God is a fitting object of worship by autonomous moral agents;

(2**) If worship requires abandoning autonomous moral agency, then it is not the case that God is a fitting object of worship by autonomous moral agents;           

(3**) Worship requires abandoning autonomous moral agency;

Therefore,

(4**) God does not exist.

Argument (B) is also valid. Is it sound? I believe that a theist may legitimately reject premise (1**). Remember that the necessity in the first premise of each of the above versions of the argument is intended by Rachels to express the claim that the very concept of God logically entails the concept of being worthy of worship, where being worthy (or fitting) of worship logically excludes judging, challenging, defying, or disobeying God. But, clearly, an activity that logically rules out judging, challenging, defying or disobeying another being is an activity that logically requires abandoning the exercise of autonomous moral agency. And a theist may quite legitimately object to such a conception of God. In particular, a theist may consistently maintain that the exercise of worshiping God is not logically inconsistent with judging, challenging, defying, or even disobeying God. And if worshiping is not logically inconsistent with any of these activities, then worshiping is not logically inconsistent with maintaining one’s autonomous moral agency. Therefore, a theist can legitimately reject premise (1**). Therefore, the argument cannot be sound.

Comment by BV:  It is not clear why the theist could not reject (3**).  Why does worship require the abandonment of autonomous moral agency? Granted, if x is God, then God has absolute authority, which includes the right to command and the right to be obeyed.  But equally, if if x is indeed God, then God will not command anything immoral; he will not command anything  that would not coincide with what we would impose on ourselves if we are acting autonomously.  Contrapositively, if x commands anything which is by our moral lights immoral, such as the slaughtering of one's innocent son, then x is not God.

Rachels attempts to meet this objection as follows: "Thus our own judgment that some actions are right and others wrong is logically prior to our recognition of any being as God. The upshot is that we cannot justify the suspension of our own judgment on the grounds that we are deferring to God's command; for if, by our own best judgment, the command is wrong, this gives us good reason to withhold the title "God" from the commander."  True, but why should we think that obeying God ever involves suspending our own judgment?  Rachels is assuming that there are circumstances in which there is a discrepancy between what God commands and what the creature knows is right.  But it is open to the theist to deny that there are ever any such circumstances.  In the case of Abraham and Isaac, the theist can say that what Abraham thought was a divine command did not come from God at all.  Of course, the Bible portrays the command as coming from God, but the theist is under no obligation to take at face value everything that is in the Bible. 

Kant, who was a theist, famously remarked that two things filled him with wonder: "the starry skies above me, and the moral law within me."  Now the moral law stands above me as a sensible (phenomenal) being subject to inclinations.  It is in one sense outside me as commanding my respect and my submission to its dictates.  In respecting the universal moral law do I abandon my autonomy?  Not at all.  I am truly autonomous only in fulfilling the moral law.  So the theist could say that God and the moral law are one, and that worshipping God is like respecting the moral law.  Just as it is no injury to my autonomy that the moral law imposes restrictions on my behavior, it is no injury to my autonomy that God issues commands.  We needn't follow Rachels in assuming that there is a discrepancy between what God commands and what by our lights (when they are 'shining properly') it is right to do.

If God is a tyrant for whom might makes right, then I grant that worship and autonomy are incompatible.  But if the object of worship is a concrete embodiment of the moral law that is in me, the following of which constitutes my autonomy, then worship and autonomy are not incompatible.

            I wish now to propose an argument, similar to Rachels, but without the objectionable assumptions accompanying the first premise of Rachels’ argument. Let us stipulate that the term ‘God!’ expresses the concept of a being that is just like the theistic concept of God, except that the following is true of this being:

(!) God! is worthy or fitting of submission; where fitting of submission logically excludes judging, challenging, defying, or disobeying God!.

With the help of (!) I shall now restate Rachels’ argument and prove that God! does not exist, provided autonomous moral agents exist. The argument assumes that at least some autonomous moral agents exist.

(C) Third Modified Argument from Moral Autonomy.

(1!) Necessarily, if God! exists, then God! is a fitting object of submission by autonomous moral agents;

(2!) If submission requires abandoning autonomous moral agency, then it is not the case that God! is a fitting object of submission by autonomous moral agents; 

(3!) Submission requires abandoning autonomous moral agency;

Therefore,

(4!) God! does not exist.

Argument (C) is valid. Is it sound? I think it is. I think that every one of the premises is true and I am willing to defend this claim. Premise (1!) is true by stipulation. Premise (3!) is also true. For submission requires recognizing the absolute authority of another and doing so is not possible while retaining ones autonomy. What about premise (2!)? Premise (2!) might initially appear somewhat strange. But premise (2!) simply states the consequences of our stipulation regarding the concept of God!, when this concept is applied to the requirement that autonomous agents must submit to a being such as God!. I think that given the stipulation expressed by (!), premise (2!) is true. Hence, it is true that God! does not exist.

A theist of course would be correct to vehemently deny that the concept of God! as stipulated is identical to the concept of God in his sense: i.e., that his concept of God includes (!). And it follows, then, that such a theist must also deny that worship is the same as submission. In particular, such a theist must deny that his God requires submission from autonomous agents. But, then, such a theist must cease to include in the concept of worship elements that belong more properly to the concept of submission.

It also follows that any religion, religious institution, or religious figure that promotes the idea that worshiping a deity requires submission to this deity presupposes that such a deity is God!. But since a being such as God! cannot exist alongside with autonomous moral agents that are required to submit to such a deity, it follows that anyone who promotes such things is promoting the existence of false gods.  

  

* I thank Mark Vuletic for bringing to my attention the paper by James Rachels “God and Moral Autonomy”. The paper is available on the Secular Web at http://www.infidels.org/library/modern/james_rachels/autonomy.html. Rachel’s paper anticipates some of the things I say about submission in my essay “Why I am a Quasi-Atheist” by about thirteen years.

On The Ground With G. E. Moore

(This is an entry from the old Powerblogs site.  It was written a few years ago.  It is just a bit of pedantry in which I wax peevish over pleonasm.)

‘On the ground’ is getting a bit too much use for my taste. What the devil does it mean? "Coming up, a live report from Geraldo Rivera, on the ground in Fallujah." Where else would he be if not on the ground? Hovering in mid-air? Burrowing underground? Why not just say that he is in Fallujah? Or does it mean that he is literally on the ground?

Of course, very few civilized mortals spend any appreciable time literally on the ground, i.e., in direct contact with the surface of the earth. I don’t reckon that Geraldo, tough guy that he is, has ever walked barefoot over the Iraqi sand. I am now sitting with my pants and underpants on in a chair which rests on a rug and a pad beneath which is a concrete slab. Thus my gluteal contact with the earth is subject to a six-fold mediation. And when I go backpacking and sleep in the wild, my contact with the ground is subject to a similar manifold mediation: clothes, sleeping bag, self-inflating ThermaRest mattress, tent floor, groundcloth. And yet that could be called sleeping on the ground as opposed to sleeping in a warm bed at home.

Thoughts such as these may have been at the back of G. E. Moore’s mind when he penned a passage in "A Defence of Common Sense" (1925) that some have found puzzling. Speaking of his body, he writes,

Ever since it was born, it has either been in contact with or not far from the surface of the earth . . .

What did Moore have in mind with "not far from the surface of the earth"? Did he do much jumping? Go up in planes or balloons? Or was he thinking that while sitting in his study, he was not in contact with the surface of the earth but also not far from it either?

Saturday Night at the Oldies: 'Look' Songs

Doris Troy, Just One Look

Beatles, I'm Looking Through You

Derek and the Dominoes, I Looked Away

Dusty Springfield, The Look of Love 

What is Behind the Terminological Mischief of the 'Negative Atheists'?

Joseph A. suggests it's all about politics:

 

You ask in your latest post "So what's going on here?"

 

The New Atheists are largely motivated by politics, not philosophy. So, what they try to zero in on is the most effective way to advance their cause, in the public and private sphere. And that means being on defense as little as possible, honesty or reasonableness be damned.

 

It's an anecdote, but it's been my experience that New Atheists (who seem to principally be behind all these weird re-definitions of atheism) hate being on defense. That's the fun of being a skeptic after all -- you risk nothing, and whoever you're talking with risks everything --- so long as you can frame the conversation as "You are making a claim, and I am not". You can criticize, mock, argue, whatever you wish, and so long as you avoid the right moves, you'll have no risk of having the same come back to you. But key to that is to avoid being thought of as making claims. Someone who says "There is no God", makes a claim. Therefore, that position is avoided, at least superficially. (In my opinion, often dishonestly.)

 

After all, who wants to be in the hot seat? And where would any person who wants to advance their political cause rather be - the questioned, or the questioner? Cynically, and spoken more out of personal experience than out of any hard data, but that's how I see the answer to your question. This is all about politics, and it has been from the start. (I'm differentiating here between actual agnostics or more intellectual atheists, and New Atheists.)

 

This is as good an explanation as I can think of.  The point, I take it, is not that the New Atheism as such is solely politically motivated -- which is  not the case -- but that the 'redefinitional gambit' is.

Against Terminological Mischief: 'Negative Atheism' and 'Negative Nominalism'

This from the seemingly reputable site, Investigating Atheism:

More recently, atheists have argued that atheism only denotes a lack of theistic belief, rather than the active denial or claims of certainty it is often associated with.

I'm having a hard time seeing what point there could be in arguing that "atheism only denotes a lack of theistic belief."  Note first that atheism cannot be identified with the lack of theistic belief, i.e., the mere absence of the belief that God exists, for that would imply that cabbages and tire irons are atheists.  Note second that it won't do to say that atheism is the lack of theistic belief in persons, for there are persons incapable of forming beliefs.  Charitably interpreted, then, the idea must be that atheism is the lack of theistic belief in persons capable of forming and maintaining beliefs. 

But this cannot be right either, and for a very simple reason.  Atheism is something people discuss, debate, argue for, argue against, draw conclusions from, believe, disbelieve, entertain, and so on.  Atheism, in other words, is a PROPOSITION: it is something that can be either true or false, that can be the object of such propositional attitudes as belief and disbelief, and can stand in such logical relations to other propositions as entailment, consistency, and inconsistency.  But one cannot discuss, debate, argue for, . . . believe, etc. a lack of something.  Atheism redefined as the lack of theistic belief is a PROPERTY of certain persons. Now a proposition is not a property.  Atheism is a proposition and  for this reason cannot be redefined as a property.

Someone who understands this might nevertheless maintain that 'negative atheism' is a proposition, namely, the proposition that there are people capable of forming and maintaining beliefs who simply lack the belief that God exists.  Admittedly, one could use 'atheism' as the label for the proposition that there are such people.  But then atheism so defined would be trivially true.  After all, no one denies that there are people capable of beliefs who lack the belief that God exists.  Furthermore, if 'atheism' is so defined, then theism would be the view that there are persons capable of belief who have the belief that God exists.  But then theism, too, would be trivially true.  And if both are true, then they cannot be logical contradictories of each other as they must be if the terms are to mean anything useful.

Now what is the point of the terminological mischief perpetrated by these 'negative atheists'?  It is terminological mischief because we have just seen it ruin two perfectly good words, 'atheism' and 'theism.'  If atheism and theism are worth discussing, then atheism is the view that God does not exist and theism is the view that God does exist. ((I am assuming that by 'God' we understand that being who is the main target of the venom of militant atheists, namely, the God of the Abrahamic religions. We are not talking about Spinoza's deus sive natura or anything of that order.)

Consider the parallel case of a nominalist who for whatever reason does not want to be taken to be asserting any positive thesis.  So instead of adhering to the standard understanding of 'nominalism' according to which it is the view that there are no universals and that particulars alone exist, he proposes to redefine 'nominalism' as the absence of the belief that there are universals. 

But now the same problems arise.  One cannot argue for or against nominalism if it is merely a lack of belief.  And if you say that nominalism is the proposition that some people lack the belief in universals then that is true, but not worth arguing for or against.  One does not argue for or against a trivially true thesis that all accept.

So what's going on here? 

Obama the Demagogue

For a brief moment he commanded respect.  He made the right decision with respect to Osama bin Laden, and for that he deserves praise.  But now he is back to his old tricks as Demagoguery 101 documents.

Libertarians and Drug Legalization

Libertarians often argue that drug legalization would not lead to increased drug use.  I find that preposterous, and you should too.  There are at least three groups of people who are dissuaded from drug use by its being illegal.

1. There are those who respect the law because it is the law.  'It's against the law' carries weight with them; it has 'dissuasive force.'  For these people the mere fact that X is illegal suffices for them to refrain from doing X.  It doesn't matter for the purposes of my argument how many of these people there are or whether they are justified in respecting the law just because it is the law.  The point is that there are such people and that the mere illegality of doing X supplies a motive for their not doing X. 

Now suppose the legal prohibition on doing X is removed.  Will every one in this first class begin doing X?  Of course not.  The point is that some will.  So it should already be clear to anyone with common sense and no ideological axe to grind that drug legalization will lead to increased use.

2. There are those who may or may not respect the law because it is the law, but fear the consequences of getting caught breaking it.  These people don't like rude encounters with cops, jail time, fines, loss of reputation, etc.  Among these people are libertarians who favor legalization and have no respect for current drug laws but obey the current laws out of fear of the consequences of breaking them.

3. There are also those who are quite confident that they can avoid the consequences of breaking the drug laws, but fear the consequences of contact with drug dealers. They fear being cheated out of their money, being given diluted or poisoned product, etc.

Now take the logical sum, or union, of the three classes just menioned.  The membership of that union is significant. Legalize drugs and some of those people will begin using drugs.  And of those who begin, some will end up abusing them, becoming addicted, etc.

Therefore, it is utterly preposterous to claim as libertarians typically do that drug legalization will not lead to increased use.  So why do people like Ron Paul  make this claim?  It is hard to figure.  Why say something stupid that makes your case weaker than it is?  Is it just knee-jerk oppositionalism? (I can't find my  old post on knee-jerk oppositionalism, but I'll keep looking.) 

Why did Paul say, "How many people here would use heroin if it were legal? I bet nobody would."?  That's just a dumbass thing to say.  Paul is assuming that whether one does X or not has nothing to do with whether X is legally permissible or legally impermissible.  He is assuming that people who use drugs will use them no matter the law says, and that people who do not use drugs will refrain from using them no matter what the law says.  That is a bit of silliness which lies beneath refutation.  So again I ask:  why do libertarians maintain extremist stupidities when there are intelligent  things they can say?

After all, libertarians do have a case.  So my advice to them would be to concede the obvious -- that legalization will result in greater use -- and then argue that the benefits of legalization outweigh the costs.  They will then come across, not as fanatical deniers of the obvious, but as reasonable people who understand the complexity of the issue.

As for Ron Paul, I'm afraid he has already blown his 2012 chances with his remarks on heroin.  It's too bad.  The country needs to move in the libertarian direction after decades and decades of socialist drift.  But the American people do not cotton to fanatics and the doctrinaire. 

Ayn Rand on "Existence Exists"

Whether one calls it a renaissance or a recrudescence, Rand is on a roll.  The Randian resurgence doesn't please David Bentley Hart whose First Things attack piece contains the following:

And, really, what can one say about Objectivism? It isn’t so much a philosophy as what someone who has never actually encountered philosophy imagines a philosophy might look like: good hard axiomatic absolutes, a bluff attitude of intellectual superiority, lots of simple atomic premises supposedly immune to doubt, immense and inflexible conclusions, and plenty of assertions about what is “rational” or “objective” or “real.” Oh, and of course an imposing brand name ending with an “-ism.” Rand was so eerily ignorant of all the interesting problems of ontology, epistemology, or logic that she believed she could construct an irrefutable system around a collection of simple maxims like “existence is identity” and “consciousness is identification,” all gathered from the damp fenlands between vacuous tautology and catastrophic category error.

Pleonasm and bombast aside, "Maxims . . . gathered from the damp fenlands of vacuous tautology and catastrophic category error" is on the mark.  I will illustrate with the famous Randianism, "Existence exists." 

1. There are at least two sensible ways of construing 'Existence exists.'  (a) That in virtue of which existing things exist itself exists.  For example, if one thought of existence as a property of existing things, and one were a realist about properties, then it would make sense for that person to say that existence exists.  He would mean by it that the property of existence exists.  (b) Existing things exist. Instead of taking 'existence' as denoting that in virtue of which existing things exist, one could take it as a term that applies to whatever exists.  Accordingly, existence is whatever exists.  To say that existence exists would then mean that existing things exist, or whatever exists exists.  But then the dictum would be a tautology.  Of course existing things exist, what else would they be 'doing'?  Breathing things breath.  Running things run.  Whatever is in orbit is in orbit.

2.  From Rand's texts it is clear that she intends neither the (a) nor the (b) construal.  What she is trying to say is something non-tautological: that the things that exist exist and have the attributes they have independently of us.  Here we read, "The primacy of existence (of reality) is the axiom that existence exists, i.e., that the universe exists independent of consciousness (of any consciousness), that things are what they are, that they possess a specific nature, an identity." Rand is advancing a version of metaphysical realism.  Existence EXISTS! (Pound the lectern, stamp the foot, flare the nostrils.)  In other words, the things that exist -- yonder mountain, the setting sun -- EXIST! where that means that they are real in sublime independence of our thinking and doing and talking, and indeed of any being's thinking and doing.  The problem, of course, is that Rand chooses to express herself in an inept and idiosyncratic way using the ambiguous sentence, 'Existence exists.'  A careful writer does not package non-tautological claims in sentences the form of which is tautological. 

That whatever exists exists independently of any consciousness, including a divine consciousness if there is one, is a substantive metaphysical claim, as can be seen from the fact that it rules out every form of idealism.  'Existing things exist,' however, is a barefaced tautology that rules out nothing.

3.  But the problem is not merely infelicity of expression.  Even though Rand wants to advance a substantive non-tautological thesis, a thesis of metaphysical realism, she thinks she can accomplish this by either inferring it from or conflating it with the Law of Identity.  The law states that for any x, x = x.  As Rand puts it, "A =A."  Well of course.  There is nothing controversial here. But Rand thinks that one can straightaway move to a substantive thesis that is controversial, namely, metaphysical realism according to which things exist and have the natures they have independently of any consciousness.  My point is not that metaphysical realism is false; my point is that denying it is not equivalent to denying the Law of Identity.  The problem is that Rand packs a hell of a lot into the the law in question, a lot of stuff that doesn't belong there. She puts the following in the mouth of Galt:

To exist is to be something, as distinguished from the nothing of nonexistence, it is to be an entity of a specific nature made of specific attributes. Centuries ago, the man who was—no matter what his errors —the greatest of your philosophers, has stated the formula defining the concept of existence and the rule of all knowledge: A is A. A thing is itself. You have never grasped the meaning of his statement. I am here to complete it: Existence is Identity, Consciousness is Identification.

 [. . .]

Are you seeking to know what is wrong with the world? All the disasters that have wrecked your world, came from your leaders’ attempt to evade the fact that A is A. All the secret evil you dread to face within you and all the pain you have ever endured, came from your own attempt to evade the fact that A is A. The purpose of those who taught you to evade it, was to make you forget that Man is Man.

So the disasters of the 20th century originated in the evasion by people like Hitler and Stalin of the fact that A is A!  This is just silly.  How can the disasters of the 2oth century be laid at the door step of a miserable tautology?  Suppose we grant that everything that exists is self-identical and that everything that is self-identical exists. (The first half of the assertion is uncontroversial, but the second half is not and will be contested by followers of Alexius von Meionong.)  But suppose we grant it.  I myself believe it is true.  By what process of reasoning does one arrive at such substantive Randian claims as that (1) Whatever exists exists independently of any consciousness and (2) There is nothing antecedent to existence, nothing apart from it—and no alternative to it?

The denials of these two propositions are consistent with the Law of Identity and Rand's explication of existence in terms of this law.  So the propositions cannot be validly inferred from the law. 

Note finally that if there is no alternative to existence, then it is necessarily the case that something exists.  For to say that there is no alternative to existence is to say that it is impossible that there be nothing at all.  But 'to exist = to be self-identical' is consistent with each thing's existence being contingent, and the whole lot of them being contingent.  Therefore, one cannot validly infer 'There is no alternative to existence' from 'To exist = to be self-identical.'

From this  we see how slovenly the Randian/Peikoffian 'reasoning' is.  The game they play is the following. They advance substantive metaphysical claims in the guise of tautologies.  The self-evidence of the latter they illicitly ascribe to the former.  This allows them to pass off their sayings as axioms that every rational person must accept. If you patiently expose their confusions as I just did, they resort to invective and name-calling.

Confessions of a Former Anti-TV Elitist

When I lived with my parents, I watched a television, theirs. But when I got out on my own, I owned no TV, first for reasons of poverty, and later, after nailing down a philosophy teaching gig, for reasons of inertia and elitism. The life of the mind is a magnificent thing, but it can breed a certain arrogance: one fancies oneself vastly superior to the ordinary boob who doesn't read books, can't write or think   beyond the utilitarian, and sucks on the glass tit for the little cognitive pablum his impoverished pate can absorb. It's not called the boob tube for nothing. You will have noticed the dual sense of 'boob.'

My period of tubelessness included the whole of the 1970s and roughly the first third of the 1980s. Once I got the teaching job, I was able to afford a stereo system. (I still have the tuner, a Pioneer SX-880.  The Technics turntable doesn't see much use, though, despite my holding on to all my albums from the '60s and beyond.)  I gave myself a classical music education and listened to the FM band. My tuner was usually set to WYSO, Yellow Springs, Ohio, an ultraliberal enclave and home to Antioch College.  WYSO was an NPR affiliate and that is where I got most of my news and commentary. That and The New York Review of Books and The New Republic, to both of which I subscribed. In those days I wouldn't have been caught dead listening to the AM band.  As you can see, I was a bit of a liberal.  But experience and hard thinking have a way of making conservatives out of liberals.

But then a lovely creature entered my life. She came without a dowry but with a TV. Thus the tube entered my life and I joined the booboisie, to extend a neologism introduced by H. L. Mencken.  But it was now the mid-80s and cable was the thing. Brian Lamb and the cable providers made possible C-Span, and this brings me to my main point.

No TV, no C-Span. Therein lies the main reason for owning a TV.

There are several other reasons, of course, but that is the main one. I suppose I am still an elitist, but an elitist of a different sort.  Before, my elitism was manifested by a rejection of TV tout court; now by a selection of perhaps 20 out of 200 channels as worth viewing. The Hitler Channel, more commonly know as the History Channel, is worth a visit. I recently discovered the Documentary Channel which, despite its leftist leanings, is a source of some outstanding documentaries. I'm not talking about docu-drama bullshit, such as one might find on MSM networks, but hard-core documentaries containing lengthy interviews with interesting characters.

And then there are those Twilight Zone marathons, on New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July.  It is a good time to be alive.

Robert Paul Wolff on Anarchism and Marxism

I see that R. P. Wolff has a blog, The Philosopher's Stone.  His post Anarchism and Marxism caught my eye.  In it he addresses the question of the logical consistency of his anarchism and his Marxism.   The answer of course depends on how Wolff employs these terms.

First of all, when I call myself an anarchist, I mean just exactly what I explained in my little book In Defense of Anarchism. I deny that there is or could be a de jure legitimate state. That is the sum and substance of what I call in that book my "philosophical anarchism." This is a limited claim, but not at all a trivial one. [. . .]

My Marxism, as I have many times explained, is not a form of secular religious faith, but a conviction that Marx was correct when he argued that capitalism rests essentially on the exploitation of the working class.

Clearly, *A de jure legitimate state is impossible* and *Capitalism rests essentially on the exploitation of the  working class* are logically consistent propositions.  So if these propositions capture what is meant by 'anarchism' and 'Marxism,' then one can be both an anarchist and a Marxist.

So far, so good.  But suppose one accepts the second proposition.  Wouldn't one naturally want to bring about political change and eliminate capitalism and with it the exploitation of the working class?  (As Marx wrote in his Theses on Feuerbach, "The philosophers have variously interpreted the world, but the point is to change it.")  Now the implementation of this change and the maintenance of a a socialist order requires the coercive power of the state and with it the violation of the autonomy of all those who resist. 

This fact brings us to a much more interesting consistency question:  How could an anarchist (in Wolff's sense), consistently with his anarchism, be a Marxist in any full-blooded sense of the term?  In a full-blooded sense, a Marxist is not one who merely maintains the thesis that capitalism by its very nature exploits workers, but one who works to seize control of the state apparatus for the purpose of implementing the elimination of capitalism.  The following  two propositions are plainly inconsistent: *The state as such lacks moral justification* and *The state possess moral justification when its coercive power is employed to eliminate capitalism and usher in socialism.*

Now that is the inconsistency that bothers me.  Wolff appears to address it at the end of his post:

I can see no conflict whatsoever between philosophical anarchism and Marxian socialism. The citizens of a socialist society, were one ever to come into existence [Gott sei dank!], would have no more obligation to obey the laws of that state, merely because it was socialist, than they have now to obey the laws of the United States, merely because America is (let us grant for the sake of argument) democratic. Both groups of citizens would stand under the universal duty of judging for themselves whether what the laws command is something that on independent grounds it is good to do. There is no duty, prima facie or otherwise, to obey the law simply because it is the law.

There is something unsatisfactory about this answer.  Wolff obviously wants a socialist society.  But good Kantian that he is, Wolff must appreciate that to will the end is to will the means.  The end is a socialist order; the means is the imposition of  socialism and the eradication of capitalism by means of the coercive power of the state.  (You would have to be quite the utopian off in Cloud Cuckoo Land to suppose that socialism could be brought about in any other way.  And of course once the socialist state has total control, it won't "wither away.")  So it seems Wolff must will and thus find morally acceptable the state apparatus that enforces and maintains socialism.  But then his Marxism contradicts his anarchism.  For these two propositions are logically inconsistent: *No state is morally justified* and *States that enforce and maintain socialism are morally justified.*

The bit about there being no duty to obey the law simply because it is the law seems not to the point.  The point is that if socialism is morally superior to capitalism, and the only route to socialism is via the state's exercise of its coercive power, then one who  wills and works for the implementation of socialism must will and work for and find morally acceptable the existence of a socialist state.

Or maybe Wolff's position just boils down to the triviality that whatever order comes about, whether capitalist, socialist, mixed, or anything else,  there would be no duty to obey the law simply because it is the law.  But then he hasn't shown the consistency of anarchism and Marxism in any full-blooded sense of these terms.

I summarize Wolff's In Defense of Anarchism here , here, and here. 

Why the Collapse of Philosophical Studies in the Islamic World?

Leo Strauss sketches an answer in his "How to Begin to Study Medieval Philosophy" in The Rebirth of Classical Political Rationalism, ed. T. L. Pangle, University of Chicago Press, 1989, pp. 221-222, bolding added:

For the Jew and the Moslem, religion is primarily not, as it is for the Christian, a faith formulated in dogmas, but a law, a code of divine origin. Accordingly, the religious science, the sacra doctrina, is not dogmatic theology, theologia revelata, but the science of the law, halaka or fiqh. The science of the law, thus understood has much less in common with philosophy than has dogmatic theology. Hence the status of philosophy is, as a matter of principle, much more precarious in the Islamic-Jewish world than it is in the Christian world. No one could become a competent Christian theologian without having studied at least a substantial part of philosophy; philosophy was an integral part of the officially authorized and even required training. On the other hand, one could become an absolutely competent halakist or faqih without having the slightest knowledge of  philosophy. This fundamental difference doubtless explains the possibility of the later complete collapse of philosophical studies in the Islamic world, a collapse which has no parallel in the West in spite of Luther.

I like the "in spite of Luther."

Leo Strauss on Reading and Writing

 Leo Strauss, Persecution and the Art of Writing:

     It is a general observation that people write as they read. As a
     rule, careful writers are careful readers and vice versa. A careful
     writer wants to be read carefully. He cannot know what it means to
     be read carefully but by having done careful reading himself.
     Reading precedes writing. We read before we write. We learn to
     write by reading. A man learns to write well by reading well good
     books, by reading most carefully books which are most carefully
     written. (Quoted from Edwin Curley, Behind the Geometrical Method:
     A Reading of Spinoza's Ethics, Princeton University Press, 1988,
     p. ii.)

   "We learn to write by reading."  This is why reading good books is
   essential to becoming a good writer.

A Reader Needs Advice on Assembling a Philosophical Toolkit

I'm an avid reader of your blog and have really enjoyed the in-depth analysis of a myriad of issues and assorted ideas. It really is one of a kind!

That being said, I'm emailing to get some advice on how I should further my philosophical studies. I've decided on political science as a major and philosophy as a minor. I hope to pursue my studies far beyond the undergraduate level, mostly in political philosophy. The problem I'm starting to have is when I really try to dissect some of your posts for their technical content, I find that I am unfamiliar with a lot of the philosophical tools that you use in your writings, tools that we undergraduates are not really acquainted with, and so I was wondering if you'd be able to direct me to some resources that would enable me to get to the next level.

So far I've looked far and wide for introductory books that would house something similar to what I've described above, perhaps a compilation of commonly used analytical techniques (if that's what you would call them), but I have come up with virtually nothing.

For some reason, I have this feeling that you're going to tell me that there aren't any such resources, and that the job of the philosopher is to comb through analytic philosophy (or even before) from its inception and pick out strategies that philosophers have introduced, often in ambiguous ways, over a large span of time, and refine them so they are somewhat usable. Is the creation of a toolkit a matter of hitting the books (something I don't mind) or is it really a bottom-up, creative endeavor?

P.S. Your posts regarding politics are a breath of fresh air.

I'm hoping that my readers can be of some assistance here.  There are probably some recent handbooks of which I am not aware.  But I know of some older books that should be useful.  One is Richard L. Purtill, A Logical Introduction to Philosophy.  Another is Jay F. Rosenberg, The Practice of Philosophy: A Handbook for Beginners.  And you may want to take a look at John Passmore, Philosophical Reasoning and Douglas N. Walton, Informal Logic: A Handbook for Critical Argumentation.

Are Atheists Theologians?

This from a reader:

I’m e-mailing you with this question because it’s bothered me for a while and I think you are more than capable of giving me a better understand of it. “Can atheists rationally ignore theology? Further, if they do need to study it, quite how much should they study, and which aspect(s) of it?” Many atheists think that studying theology would simply waste their time, whereas I now think that no rational person’s atheism is complete without engaging with the best theology on offer.

Well of course you are right:  any atheist who does not engage with a sophisticated conception of God is simply attacking a straw man and may be ignored for that very reason.  I see little point is discussions with atheists who liken God to a flying spaghetti monster or a celestial teapot.  Let them first show that they have mastered the complexities of a sophisticated God conception, and that they have respect for, and some understanding of, the religious sensibility, and then we will talk with them. If they polemicize, or are disrespectful or dismissive, then they are best ignored.

My own position is that atheism is a kind of rival theology (atheology?), just as every disbelief is a kind of rival belief, and that no atheist can rationally afford to ignore theology.

Here you have to be careful.  Suppose S disbelieves that p.  (For example, Jones disbelieves that Osama is dead.) It does not follow that Jones believes that ~p.  For it may be that S neither believes that p nor believes that ~p.  If one neither accepts nor rejects the proposition that Osama is dead, then one could be said to disbelieve that Osama is dead without believing that he is alive.  So there are two modes of disbelief with respect to a proposition p.  Either one believes that ~p or one suspends judgment with respect to p.  So I don't agree that every disbelief is a kind of rival belief.

In fact, every atheist is implicitly a theologian. For instance, Thomas Aquinas believes that God is simple, and Richard Dawkins believes that God is complex. Dawkins and Aquinas seem to compete in the same arena and talk on the same subject, so aren’t they both theologians, albeit rival ones? Further, every informed atheist must hold that the arguments that are meant to establish the existence of God fail. To think this is to engage positively with theology. Not to think this is to fail to rationally found one’s atheism. An atheist who is ignorant of theology, in my view, is rather like someone who disbelieves in the planets but is ignorant of astronomy. Atheists who do not take God and theology seriously do not take their own atheism seriously either.

Here again you have to be careful.  It is not as if there exists an x such that x = God and that Aquinas and Dawkins have contradictory beliefs about this one entity, x.  They are not disagreeing in the way two theologians might disagree over say,  divine foreknowledge or the filioque, or divine simplicity.   These theologians disagree, not about the existence of God, but about his exact nature.  By contrast, Aquinas and Dawkins are not presupposing a common subject matter about whose attributes they disagree.  So it is highly misleading if not outright wrong to say that Aquinas and Dawkins are rival theologians.  For Aquinas, theology has a subject matter; for Dawkins it does not.  So they do not "talk on the same subject."

It helps if you distinguish concepts of God from God.  For Aquinas, there really is an entity which some of those concepts are concepts of, even though no concept could be adequate to the divine reality.  For Dawkins, however, nothing that could reasonably count as a God concept is a concept of anything.

I think you have the right idea, but you are putting it in the wrong way.  You are right that serious and intellectually responsible atheists must address themselves to the most sophisticated conceptions of theists.  In this sense they must "engage positively with theology."  But that is not to say that "every atheist is implicitly a theologian."  Atheists deny the existence of God.  So for them there cannot be any theology, any study of God, as a legitimate inquiry into a domain of reality.  And please note that one can deny the existence of God without in any obvious way presupposing the existence of God.  How?  In the same way one denies the existence of Pegasus without presupposing the existence of Pegasus.  One cannot predicate nonexistence of Pegasus without presupposing the existence of Pegasus.  But one can predicate noninstantiation of the concept winged horse of such and such a description without presupposing the existence of Pegasus,  And so it is with the denial of God.  The atheist simply claims that no God concept is instantiated.  So I deny that atheism is a species of theology.  It is a rejection of all theology.

I also deny here and here that atheism is a religion, though I grant that it is like a religion in some ways. 

Moonsets and Microclimates

One advantage the early riser has over his opposite number is that he is better placed to enjoy certain celestial and atmospheric phenomena. One morning the moonset over the hills behind my house was unusually entrancing. The moon was at its fullest and the sky at it clearest. The Morning Star, that overworked example of so many philosophy of language dissertations, was in the vicinity of the moon, at least phenomenologically. The conjunction put me in mind of the Turkish flag which depicts Venus and a crescent moon in similar proximity. It was on such a crescent-mooned night that Mustafa Kemal Ataturk (1881-1938) began the Kurtulus Savasi (the War of Independence) that brought into being the Republic of Turkey. Or so I was once told by a Turkish girl.

And then a day or two later I was out hiking at first light. The trail took me down into a chilly streambed. Climbing out of the drainage was like walking into a warm house: the temperature differential was twenty degrees Fahrhenheit if it was two. It takes a hiker, one accompanied only by his shadow, to appreciate such phenomena properly. The trail runner and the mountain biker are working too hard and are too much claimed by the hazards under foot and wheel to attend to the subtle. And the hiker who brings company along will be snubbed by Nature who jealously hides her charms from the unworthy and the inattentive. Nature: "You bring society into my serene precincts? Then enjoy your society, you can't have me."

As for the windshield tourist -- he may as well be on another planet.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: John Fahey

Layla.

Requiem for Mississippi John Hurt.

Candy Man.

Desperate Man Blues. 

Bio.

Bluff Spring Loop, Superstition Wilderness, 6 May 2011

This is a 9.3 mile hike out of the Peralta Trailhead, Superstition Wilderness, Arizona.  I have done it countless times in both the clockwise and counterclockwise directions.  The route sports about 1260 feet of elevation gain according to David Mazel (Arizona Trails, Wilderness Press 1991, p. 47)  We commenced hiking at 6 AM on the dot and finished at 11:35.  The dialectics slowed down the peripatetics.  Clockwise takes the hiker up rather than down what the locals call "Heart Attack Hill"  when they are not calling it "Cardiac Hill."   I much prefer the uphill to the downhill, heart stress to knee strain, though we have it on the authority of Heraclitus the Obscure of Ephesus that "The way up and the way down are the same." (Fragment 60)  A second advantage of the clockwise route is that fewer fellow hikers are encountered.  Human nature being what it is, the path of least resistance is preferred by the many.  The fewer of the many encountered the better, or so say I.  Here is the elevation profile in the easy counterclockwise direction:

Eschewing the Peripatetic approach to philosophy, Peter L. deemed us "crazy" for hiking in the desert in summer.  (High was near 100 Fahrenheit on the day in question.)  Hiking is a "delectable madness" as I seem to recall Colin Fletcher saying.  The first shot depicts the young philosopher Spencer Case at Miner's Summit standing before Miner's Needle while the second shows what the locals call "Cathedral Rock."