I recently took it upon myself to read Charles Taliaferro and Stewart Goetz‘s work Naturalism (for sale here).  I highly recommend the book for anyone looking for a good summary of some considerations of modern philosophy on the topic of naturalism.  The work is pithy, cogent, and I think easy to follow even for those not well-versed in the technical jargon and historic arguments surrounding this traditional metaphysical debate.  I would caution, though, that I think that the book seems to me overly critical of some features of naturalism, and also to me seems to overgeneralize many characteristics which I think abound in naturalists and non-naturalists alike.

I had the great pleasure of being introduced to Taliaferro last fall, and will likely be meet him again in a few days, so I took the time to throw together a little gut-reaction response to the work Natualism (which, I rather think might be better titled “Against Naturalism”, which indicates better that the purpose of this book seems to be the construction of an argument against naturalism, rather than some merely informational and “objective” presentation of historic facts and debates).

Here is my response to their work (in either ogg vorbis or mp3 format).

If you don’t feel like taking the 15 minutes to listen, here’s the gist of my thoughts, without most of the explanatory substance:

1. Yes, I agree with Goetz and Taliaferro that naturalism as they characterize it (through examples) stands on shaky ground, but…
2. Naturalist perspectives, being based on the ever-expanding realm of scientific advancement, are not simply reductionist.  Rather, their role can expand as our empirical observations and theories about these observations expand.  My feelings on this follow from my (mildly Kuhnian, i think) view that science is a primarily pragmatic rather than epistemological endeavor.
3. Because science offers us the opportunity to challenge traditional “supernatural” explanations, it bears the possibility to act as a corrective check for, or at least calls us to critically reflect upon, our folk psychology/physics/philosophy/metaphysics/dogmas.
4. Finally, I think that a strict, parsimonious, positive naturalism is not just likely epistemically problematic–it is psychologically untenable even for its most outspoken adherence (but so is anti-naturalism in some ways).  In the long run, though, if the apparent choice is between accepting on or the other tradtional dogma (either naturalist or unnaturalist), I would just assume have both perspectives around as long as possible duking it out, as neither seems wholy cogent to me.  With the argument preserved, we can pragmatically utilize one assumption in one context generally (say, anti-naturalism for religion; naturalism for science), but allow these perspectives to challenge each other in their own contexts as well.  In this way, I hope we can either realize that these distinctions are irrelevant, or that they are somehow complimentary, or that some better alternatives exist instead–and enjoy the fruits of continued argument.

What struck me as interesting, was that when I was looking for some alternative perspectives on naturalism while writing my response, one of the first results provided by my friend Google was lil’ ol me.  Yes, on the first page of my google results was an entry that I posted in October last year, entitled “Hobbes and Modern Science v. Descartes“.  Back in October, though, I was sort of on the other side of the argument.  Back then, I was chastizing modern science for its naturalist assumptions, rather than lauding it for bringing options to the table–at least until the end of the article.  In the end, though, it seems that both today and last october, I was arguing from one side (first against naturalists, then against anti-naturalists) in order to get to the middle.  In both places, I criticized dogmatism, dualism, and hubristic assumptions that we already know what types of substances make up the entirety of the cosmos.

The major discrepancy between my old article and my new one, it seems to me, is that I was content to characterize science in my October post as presuming the sort of materialistic naturalism that Goetz and Taliaferro seem to see in it, but this week I argued that that view of science is short-sighted.  Which description is more accurate?  In a way, I think both.  I think the end paragraph of my recorded response hints at the answer.  It seems that real human beings simply don’t portray stable, context independent dispositions of this sort.  In one context, we might all predictably be naturalists (say, when you consider whether or not you should worry about a 1,000 anvil falling on you from above), and in others we may all be anti-naturalists (say, when considering our plans for the future or interpreting our emotions).  It may simply not be possible to separate these two categories in a way that is both meaningful and able to be held by a real person over time.

Also, if you’re in the Sioux Falls area, I heartily implore you to come to Charles Taliaferro’s talk at the Augustana Naturalism Symposium this week; it will make your life better.

Also, I tried to stream my recorded response to Naturalism, but it does not seem to work for me.  Try it, if it shows up for you:

a scene from Blake's series on Dante's Divine Comedy

In the meantime, I have not been dormant.  I have taken on a bit of work researching Emmanuel Lévinas.  This work has thus far largely been one of data-mining, if you will; little actual reading and interpretation has yet been done, but I have learned or reacquainted myself with the task of journal-finding and sorting.  My skills had perhaps become somewhat rusty over the past year, but I also suspect that I had come to expect that my web-searching techniques would work just as well for sorting through piles of academic works.  Soon enough, I hope to actually be reading some of these journal articles and books, a task which is understandably more exciting than merely fishing for sources.  Since my first experience with Lévinas, I have found some of his ideas to have profoundly altered my perspective, others to seem prima facie contrary to reason, and a number more to simply baffle me.  I hope to find more clarity and insight, more explanation for the ostensibly nonsensical, and of course a little footing for the confusing material; of course, I suspect I will just find more material that fits into all three categories.

A number of issues probably made my earlier attempts at following Lévinas’ thought quite difficult, and I suspect that the most salient of these obstacles was my total inexperience with Husserl and Heidegger.  I have, since the time of my last writing (over a month ago, it seems) had my first tiny morsels of both of these philosopher’s works.  No doubt these little bits are markedly inadequate representations of these two philosophers’ complex perspectives, but I suspect that having a start will help me re-read Lévinas.

In the meantime since my last post, I have also experienced a few more tiny nuggets from philosophers like Michel Foucault, Slavoj Zizek, Roland Barthes, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Benedetto Croce, Daniel C. Dennett, Francis Bacon, and perhaps a few others whom I cannot now recall.  I suspect, though, that the thinker with the most substantial influence on my thought patterns over the past month has been none other than William Blake.  Therefore, I mean to take a moment to relax here at home, treating my Black Friday outside as if it were the terror its name implies, while I discuss a bit of the influence of Blake’s ideas.

My standard disclaimer applies; I am interpreting, but as an interested party with limited experience, rather than as an authoritative scholar.  I know little about Blake’s life, and have scanned only a few small works of his, so forgive (and correct, point out, or argue against!) my errors and missteps.

I first became interested in William Blake when studying art history.  I was struck instantly by Blake’s unusual forms, style, and color in Elohim Creating Adam.  This, as so many of his creations, depicted deeply religious images with aesthetic beauty and a seemingly converse, irrepressibly sheol-ic gloom.  I saw in Blake’s approach a sort of algedonic theology, maybe even an aesthetic retort to theodicy.  The creation of mankind, as an example, is an admixture of good and evil–at least from the standpoint of mankind today.  The work is a manner of showing mankind’s ability to get beyond good and evil (see also), without resorting the irreverent self-righteousness of proverbial Tower of Babel architects.

Elohim Creating Adam by William Blake

Recently I rediscovered William Blake, this time in the genre of poetry.  I am not much of a poetry critic, and quite honestly I have not experienced the same degree of aesthetic ekstasis from his writing as from his art.  My approach and my interest is in philosophical ideas, a category of thoughts which exist aplenty in these poems.

One thing that struck me immediately when reading Blake was his similarity to Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Both poets have an ostensibly devout affiliation with some form of Christianity, yet each has a fascination with other world religions.  Both adopt a pretty revolutionary form of universalism for their time.  Blake’s All Religions are One poem/print/argument indicates his position in the least-obscured manner:

The Argument    As the true method of knowledge is experiment
the true faculty of knowing must be the faculty which experiences.
This faculty I treat of.
  PRINCIPLE 1st  That the Poetic Genius is the true Man. and that
the body or outward form of Man is derived from the Poetic Genius.
Likewise that the forms of all things are derived from their Genius.
which by the Ancients was call'd an Angel & Spirit & Demon.
  PRINCIPLE 2d  As all men are alike in outward form, So (and with
the same infinite variety) all are alike in the Poetic Genius
  PRINCIPLE 3d  No man can think write or speak from his heart, but
he must intend truth. Thus all sects of Philosophy are from the Poetic
Genius adapted to the weaknesses of every individual
  PRINCIPLE 4.  As none by traveling over known lands can find out
the unknown.  So from already acquired knowledge Man could not ac-
quire more. therefore an universal Poetic Genius exists
  PRINCIPLE. 5. The Religions of all Nations are derived from each
Nations different reception of the Poetic Genius which is every where
call'd the Spirit of Prophecy.
  PRINCIPLE 6   The Jewish & Christian Testaments are An original
derivation from the Poetic Genius. this is necessary from the
confined nature of bodily sensation
  PRINCIPLE 7th  As all men are alike (tho' infinitely various) So
all Religions & as all similars have one source
  The true Man is the source he being the Poetic Genius

(Be sure to see some original prints of this here.)

It looks like we get to do a little metaphysics before we get the theory of religious/spiritual universalism!  Blake is pretty clearly setting up a definition of the self/mind, but it is not clear at first whether this coincides with Cartesian mind/body dualism or not.  Most readers would agree that, at the very least, Blake’s “poetic genius” plays a similar role to that of the mind in traditional Cartesian dualist models, because it is both the source of basic inner consciousness and the originator of thoughts.  I think that the work also implies that the “poetic genius” is also the recipient of experience (or at the very least, revelation); this “poetic genius” can also be said to be a consciousness of as opposed to simple consciousness, and perhaps a force of reasoning, memory, and other trope mental functions.

Blake's Behemoth and Leviathan

However, I think that it is quite unfair say that Blake’s “poetic genius” is simply synonymous with the Cartesian mind; a few important considerations illustrate that this would be an oversimplification.  First, even if it is only a matter of emphasis, Blake uses the term “poetic genius” place weight on the role of creativity being at the heart of the human being, rather than our gamut of cognitive functions and perceptions.  Blake’s education would have ensured that he knew of the term poet in its original Greek sense; the poet (ποιητής) is not simply “creative” (a term by which we typically indicate “original” thought) but an actual force of creating, a maker.  Likewise, the term genius, which to us now implies only high-level cognition, would have been known to Blake also with its Latin connotations; in this case, not simply excellent mental performance, but a sort of spiritual auspice for the individual.  Thus the poetic genius is not just a source of unique thought, but an active participating spirit in the world  A second consideration to note is the mind/body interaction model supplied by Blake.  While it is unclear in this work¹ whether the “poetic genius” and our physical bodies are made up of the same metaphysical stuff, Blake is unequivocal in declaring that the outward body is derived from the core, the poetic genius.  By then associating the poetic genius with that which “by the Ancients was call’d an Angel & Spirit & Demon”, Blake could be saying that the poetic genius is the incorporeal “mental” “spirit”, but he could also just mean that people formerly described features of the poetic genius in erroneous ways.  The middle-way interpretation which I think yields the most interesting results is that Blake is attempting to get beyond the corporeal/incorporeal distinction at this point.  By providing a metaphysical structure which allows not only simple mind/body-like interaction but also posits the excressence of the traditionally material from the stereotypically nonmaterial, Blake critiques this metaphysical distinction.

It is important to observe, though, that Blake still appeals to a metaphysical ideal–that the poetic genius is the “true” man; additionally, he offers another grand metaphysical ideal in the form of the universal poetic genius, which of course has implications for a possible hierarchy of metaphysical relationships between the self-ideal of the poetic genius and inter-poetic genius relationships.  Unfortunately, I never managed to get beyond the metaphysics to my main point about correlations between Emerson and Blake on topics like universalism, human creativity, and freedom (and, on reflection I think there’s an interesting correlation to flesh out between Blake and symbolists like Stéphane Mallarmé).  Perhaps the point is already becoming clear, but if I get the chance I might make another quick post about this topic.  I’ll make no promises this time, though, as that seems a sure-fire way to keep me from completing any post.

By the way, in the last month I have also had the unfortunate experience of rediscovering Librarything.com, a place for bibliophiles such as myself to waste their time online.  If you are likewise afflicted, I invite you to look me up there by my username “jxn”.

The cause of Sense, is the Externall Body, or Object, which
presseth the organ proper to each Sense, either immediatly,
as in the Tast and Touch; or mediately, as in Seeing, Hearing,
and Smelling: which pressure, by the mediation of Nerves, and other
strings, and membranes of the body, continued inwards to the Brain,
and Heart, causeth there a resistance, or counter-pressure,
or endeavour of the heart, to deliver it self: which endeavour
because Outward, seemeth to be some matter without.  And this Seeming,
or Fancy, is that which men call sense; and consisteth, as to the Eye,
in a Light, or Colour Figured; To the Eare, in a Sound; To the Nostrill,
in an Odour; To the Tongue and Palat, in a Savour; and to the rest
of the body, in Heat, Cold, Hardnesse, Softnesse, and such other qualities,
as we discern by Feeling.  All which qualities called Sensible,
are in the object that causeth them, but so many several motions
of the matter, by which it presseth our organs diversly.  Neither in
us that are pressed, are they anything els, but divers motions;
(for motion, produceth nothing but motion.)  But their apparence to
us is Fancy, the same waking, that dreaming.  And as pressing, rubbing,
or striking the Eye, makes us fancy a light; and pressing the Eare,
produceth a dinne; so do the bodies also we see, or hear, produce
the same by their strong, though unobserved action

The absurdity, to me, was not merely that Hobbes thought that he had figured out the mechanisms that ruled over our senses and feelings simply by expanding simple principles of interaction of bodies.  Rather, I laughed because I thought it was preposterous that Hobbes thought to account for non-physical things, like emotions and mental activity, by means of materialist mumbo-jumbo.

Leviathan, cover from wikimedia.org

Curiously, I was simultaneously quite sincerely open to, if not entirely credulous of, the findings of modern psychological studies which played the exact same role–namely, making the naturalist presumption that those things which seem incorporeal (like thoughts, sensory data, and emotions) could be studied as causes of simple physical interactions observable, for instance, by means tools like nMRI.  Modern naturalist science (I’m convinced that naturalism is not in any way definitional of science, but rather a mere ubiquitous presumption of modern scientists and the in-vogue scientific paradigms) simply has a more complex version of Hobbes’ materialism.  Rather than simply positing that something “preseth on the eye”, biologists a conception of our senses as the products of a complex of chemical and physical interactions which can all be reduced, theoretically, to a naturalistic incarnation of particle physics.

Each of these two perspectives–Hobbesian materialism and modern naturalist science–has issues with the classical Cartesian mind/body dualism.  What I considered incredible in the Hobbesian perspective, I should recall, is not the given dualism ” between two sorts of ‘stuff’, material and immaterial” (as Rorty calls it), but was once an idea marked more by its novelty than its broad acceptance.  With what reasons did dualism replace materialism as the dominant metaphysical structural assumption?  Certainly a number of enticing dualist metaphysical systems exist, and we might have good reason/s–logical or practical–to accept any of these.  I am not convinced that this dualism is essentially reasonable (or for that matter, if it is, that it is reasonable that we should assume that the non-material side of this dualism should have laws similar to our empirically-derived laws for the natural world); I am likewise not convinced that the material dualism has any cogent appeal over metaphysical tri-ism, quad-ism, or infinit-isms (do metaphysicians have terms for these?), other than theoretical parsimony.

Rorty speaketh

Richard Rorty opens Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature, Chapter 1 with this to say about dualism:

Discussions in the philosophy of mind usually start off by assuming that everybody has always known how to divide the world into the mental and the physical–that this distinction is common-sensical and intuitive, even if that between two sorts of “stuff”, material and immaterial, is  philosophical and baffling”

While I don’t think that this position is completely fair or accurate, Rorty’s point is well-made.  If we need a dozen or more metaphysical systems for bridging that “between” in the mind/body dualism–epiphenominalism, parallelism, occasionalism, and their ilk–and the whole dualist project is so difficult for us to fine-tune, what makes this dualism seem so obvious?  I suspect Rorty is not just being eristic when he implies that its our dogmatic entrenchment which makes this dualism seem natural, not some objectively-apparent metaphysical substructure.  This dogmatic entrenchment, I think, is what made Hobbes’ materialist metaphysics seem so quaint and rediculous; meanwhile, my dogmatic entrenchment in the authority of modern scientific findings allowed me to provisionally accept a sort of materialist perspective.  Perhaps it is unfair of me to so readily accept one while simultaneously poo-poo-ing the other.

I enjoy Rorty’s criticism of this dualism, but I think my position is still largely gauche to his.  We should not ignore the predominant metaphysical assumption of dualism–nor, conversely, the metaphysical (or physical) presumption of monism/materialism (or other metaphysical -isms).  We simply ought to be aware of, but not necessarily strictly opposed to, our dogmatic assumptions.  Likewise, we should take note when our various presumptions do not jibe well.  Do we assume dualism, yet affirm the findings of research that presumes or requires monism?  If so, is it merely the result of the brute cultural force of one over the other, or are there good reasons for believing both?  Certainly we might simply mean “monism” and “dualism” in different ways.  Dualisms, of course, may be distinctions between “subtances”, “properties”, or “predicates”, among other things; or perhaps it is fair of us to utilize dualist assumptions in a monist reality or monist assumptions in a dualist reality, if they get us the practical results we desire in some parsimonious way in some areas.  In the same way that we still utilize Newton’s laws for some gravity calculations, despite the existence of more precise post-Einstein calculations, it may simply be the best to use one or the other as a tool.  By this point you surely have figured out that this is my pragmatic proposition for an approach to metaphysics; It is my belief that a “dualism assumption awareness” campaign is much more likely to give us the results we desire than a “dualist-smashing” campaign which it seems to me Rorty is using to get us to agree to presume materialism for pragmatic purposes (corrections/comments greatly appreciated!).

However, Rorty’s topical differences, which even Waggish says exist simultaneously, hardly come off as differences in philosophical perspective.  If Rorty, who at this point in the work is wearing his goals and influences on his sleeve, is being honest about where this book is going and how it is getting there, the only foreseeable potential for change from 1979 to 2000 would be mere nuance.  Of course, this conclusion is both tentative and flippant, based on a few pages from a handful of varied books written decades apart.

Summary

To return to the content of the introduction itself, Rorty begins with a small gift–a brickbat for modern philosophy.  Philosophers since Kant, he claims, like to think of themselves as having access to the timeless problems and the timeless answers (or search for answers) that serve as the basis for all other human knowledge (and, I suspect he would be willing to agree, founds not only metaphysics/epistemology, but also ethics and now “meaning” as well).  We owe this foundationalism/arrogance, he states matter-of-factly, to John Locke’s ” ‘theory of knowledge’ based on an understanding of ‘mental processes’ ” as well as to Descartes’ conception of “the mind” as a distinct, process-like intangible.  From that point, the role of philosophy was developed into a “tribunal of pure reason, upholding or denying the claims of the rust of culture” with the assumption that philosophers had access to foundational mind/process upon which all of the rest of human knowledge is contingent.  Most of the grunt work here was done by Kant, but the job was not finished until neo-Kantians so embedded this foundationalism that ” ‘philosophy’ became, for the intellectuals, a substitute for religion.”

Many philosophers undermined this position.  Many, like William James and Nietzsche, were simply ignored or marginalized.  Eventually, though, criticisms became too great, and the works of Wittgenstein, Heidegger, and Dewey, for instance, have helped erode the authority and faith in philosophical foundationalism.  While many–notably Husserl and Russell–have attempted to re-foundationalize philosophy, Rorty seems to think that philosophy is ineluctably bound to be demoted from its position as high-meta-priest of knowledge and culture, certainly with his help.

Rorty promises to try to convince his readers not to think of philosophy as a means of obtaining objective truth (a mirror of nature); we ought to ditch our Greek/Cartesian dualisms, embrace a mildly Kuhnian historicism and a Deweyian conception of truth, and move on.

Discussion

So, are Rorty’s charges of philosophical foundational arrogance fair?  Anecdotally, I have found many of the philosophers whom I have met to be among the most humble, despite being among the most intelligent, of people with whom I have associated in general.  As a student of philosophy, I suspect that I’m prone to awarding philosophy that arrogant prize that Rorty wants to take away–the claim to holding, if not the answers that provide universal foundational knowledge, the meaningful questions that humans desire, or should desire, to ask.

If this is all that Rorty is getting at, his assessment seems somewhat fair.  I would add, however, that in modernity philosophy is not the only field which makes claims of this sort.  Religion, and theological studies, often make claims or seek objective meaning, objective ends, foundational understanding of truth, a method of prioritizing which places religion or religious belief or religious ethics or religious questions at the foundation of human existence.  Psychology, likewise, has claims to begin at the foundation of knowledge, the human mind itself.  Do not biology and biochemistry seek the same foundational understanding?  Don’t astronomers look for clues which they hope would give us foundational understanding of life and meaning?  Would not particle physicists claim that all these other pursuits are dependent upon their foundational knowledge?  Even in the humanities and social sciences–sociology, rhetoric, anthropology, history–it seems to me that some incarnation of claims to foundational access to knowledge, meaning, or importance are made.  Perhaps few or none of these claims have the same sort of epistemic or metaphysical bent to them, but I reckon that each is guilty of its claims to arrogance in its own way–perhaps moreso the product of the values of those entering these fields than by virtue of the unified claims of the field in general.

However, if perhaps only for historical and cultural reasons, the field of philosophy may be just a bit more chauvinistic than other areas of study.  Certainly after having been the apex of renaissance humanism’s educational hierarchy, after having been Boethius’s consolation, and having been the salient intellectual perspective enduring since the supposed Greco-Roman founding of Western Civilization, Philosophy may yet have a little humility due it.  Rorty thinks philosophers might need to quit calling their questions and answers eternal; we should recognize that philosophy as time and culture bound as the hard sciences.  Yale’s Anthony T. Kronman argues, in Education’s End (sold here), that philosophy and the rest of the so-called humanities are simply the last fields of study to be brought under the research ideal; perhaps an eventual full incorporation into this ideal (which neither I nor Kronman support) would give philosophy that historicist humility which has so far escaped so many philosophers still seeking to write that “last book”.

The “Cash Value” of my reading

I certainly think that Rorty’s criticisms are worth bearing in mind.  Perhaps I am guilty of being too-far embedded in the goals, practice, and culture of philosophy, but I think it is better that we meet Rorty only half way.  His historicist and antifoundationalist positions ought to be recognized and ought to strongly discourage us from believing in the permanence of any philosophical questions and/or answers.  However, I do not think that this means we should not still attempt or cannot ever achieve the kind of permanence or foundationalism that Rorty rails against.  While philosophy may seem old, I argue that is quite young.  Even if you claim that what we today call philosophy is the same animal that arose in Ancient Greece; or perhaps when Gilgamesh first contemplates his mortality; or perhaps the first time the first person “desired to know”, humans are a young species on a young planet with heck of a lot of learning yet to do.  Writing off foundationalism at this youthful stage of our development is, if nothing else, closing a giant door to inquiry.  Yes, Rorty, philosophers do not seem anywhere close to coming up with foundational answers, but leave us, please, our foundational questions and let us cavil a bit about them just in case.