The Forgotten Constant

I think it's a shame that the humanities leaves out human interaction and relationship with nature. We become who we are and develop as we do as a consequence of our natural environment. Human development and progress are inextricably linked, I think. But maybe that's the problem. Maybe our dependencies, reliance and interactions with nature are so permeable, so overarching, that they are forgotten -rather, not taken as a given, but regarded as a constant to be ignored... which may not be so constant.

And now, a lamentation of sorts in the words of Thoreau:

Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours,

Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children,

as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned

from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively

an interaction of man to man.

Bound Infinitesimals

I like the idea of multiple infinities. The notion of a bound infinitesimal, an infinite space between, a finite area in which there exists no biggest, no smallest -well, it seems to reflect real life. Scientists can travel deeper and deeper into the small -the cell, the organelle, the molecule, the atom, the subatomic particle, the bodies of quantum mechanics- and yet never be satisfied that they've reached the smallest (and if they do declare that they've discovered the smallest there is, they are inevitably proved to be wrong by consequent discovery). The same holds true when we see how big we can go. We'll call it the universe, the term for "everything." And then red shift suggests that that "everything" is expanding... into something bigger.

Yes, I like the idea of infinities. It reflects the multiple unknowns that exist, rather ubiquitously.

Essentialism

Dutch forger, Han van Meergan, hated modern art. He started his (legitimate) career painting in the Rembrandt style. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't good either. Decisively mediocre, you might say. Thus, he was relatively unsuccessful and had little luck with critics. One critic once said of him that he had "every virtue except originality."

So partially as an act of revenge -and partially to get rich- Van Meergan started to (illegitimately) paint reproductions of Vermeers. And you know what? The critics raved! His reproduction of The Supper at Emmaus was perhaps the most famous painting in Holland and one leading critic of Dutch baroque art swooned: "We have here a -I am inclined to say the- masterpiece of Jan Vermeer of Delft." But that was just it. The painting was adored for being a Vermeer.

Van Meegeren, being quite the egomaniac, would visit his painting int he Boijmans Gallery and loudly tell other visitors to the museum that it was a fake, just to hear them tell him that such a thing was nonsense, that only a genius like Vermeer could paint so well. And so Van Meergan, despite his narcissism may not ever have gotten caught... were it not for the Nazis. He was arrested and charge with treason for selling a Vermeer to the Nazi Hermann Goering -only it wasn't a real Vermeer, of course. He confessed that it wasn't a real Vermeer that he had sold... and then confessed that the others weren't real either.

And so the critics were embarrassed, to say the least, but even more notable was the dramatic turnaround in the critiques of his paintings. Those who once may have rhapsodized about the beauty of these paintings, believing them to be Vermeer's, failed to see such beauty once the works were revealed to be forgeries. As one expert wrote, "After Van Meergeren's exposure, it became apparent that his forgeries were grotesquely ugly and unpleasant paintings, altogether dissimilar to Vermeer's." they looked no different, but were now ugly.

This phenomena occurs all the time, and not just with art or celebrity memorabilia. Humans are notorious for regarding objects as not only the compilation of their physical properties, the sensational stimulus they illicit, but also attribute to the object an essence, regarding the object as an individual, assigning it an identity on the cognitive level. Because of this, objects -or people- that may be in all other ways identical, and equivalent, are just not the same. I find myself recalling a certain four year old I babysitted who, though given an identical blanket when hers was thrown out, said "but I want my blankie back! This isn't my blankie!" This is also the reason most people wouldn't willingly wear a sweater previously worn by Adolf Hitler and I doubt that someone who looks like acts like and is in all ways just like your mother (a clone, if you will), would be accepted as an equivalent replacement for your mother.

Fragility and the Development of Humanity

One of the key contributors to the development of the theory of plate tectonics in the 1950s should have a good grasp on the concept of fragility. In working for years on the idea that these so solid and seemingly unbreakable plates of crust on which we live are, in fact, a series of brittle puzzle pieces floating on top of a plastic aesthenophere and constantly in peril of crashing a breaking and whatnot, he also developed a philosophy on the importance of fragility in the natural world at all levels. He's argued that, similar to the way a brittle crust is a requirement for life on Earth as we know it to be, so too is fragility in all aspects of nature a benefit, rather than a detriment. It's fragility, he argues, that instigates change and growth and is, in fact, essential to development.

He applies this at the geologic level, but also points out that it occurs at the biological level, perhaps most poignantly. Though one might believe that the weaker, smaller, oldest, youngest, or otherwise impaired individuals of a pack might be left behind, cast away as the weakest link, reality shows the opposite. Social animals -and even those that we don't immediately regard as social- put the most fragile of their family at the center of their community. The weak and small get special protection, special attention. This can be seen in elephants, lemurs, wolves, lions, gorillas and monkeys. Paleontological findings even show that groups of early Neanderthals took special care of those that were born deformed or had been injured, and that this nomadic species even carried incapacitated individuals with them, rather than leave them behind.

Fragility, he claims, is the key to the development of reverence, of compassion. Humans often prize the breakable and care for the delicate, when there would, on the surface, appear to be no real advantage to doing so. It would seem that, to be Spartan about it, we would prize the durable and reliable and leave behind all who are unable to keep up. Instead, we arrange our societies around the preservation of those who cannot provide for themselves (children, the elderly, the sick) and value that which could so easily be destroyed.

Rather than being a weakness, such behavior could be seen as an evolutionary trait among us social animals. Much the same way altruism can pay off in the long run, the encounter of the fragile and the consequential move to preserve it is a prime way to foster empathy and compassion -both of which are advantageous traits to posses in a social community. The encounter of the fragile gives us the chance to practice a skill that many argue makes us so human.

Zombies: An Ethical Conundrum

Having spent quantifiable time around elementary age children, I've come to note that, when kids first make the connection between chicken nuggets and hamburgers, and real live chickens and cattle (and that the animals that they eat have to die), they tend to have one of two reactions. The first is that of pure horror and revulsion, the big-eyed seven-year-old face that watches the film version of Charlotte's Web and cannot face the idea of pork chops on a dinner plate ever again. The second reaction is slightly more disturbing and is that of the five-year-old who slowly understands the concept, and interprets this to mean that it's okay to kill and torture animals (proceeding to stomp on all the bugs he or she sees, pull the cat's tail and throw rocks at the birds). There does exist a third reaction that is, in my opinion, far too infrequently encountered, and that is one of a sudden reverence for the food that's put on the table at dinnertime, with an understanding that something had to die for the child to eat.

This issue does not pose an ethical conundrum for me, personally. I decided long ago that all life has intrinsic value, be it animal or vegetable, insect, canine or chondricthian. Thus, no life should be needlessly slain without due cause. This understood, destruction is an inherent requirement for the persistence of life: cattle mercilessly cut down living grass for sustenance the same way a lion takes down a gazelle (well, maybe in a slightly different fashion) and the vegetarian takes the life of an artichoke with no remorse, just as my grandmother shamelessly serves a turkey for dinner. The point isn't to lament the taking of life -for to do so would be to lament one's existence as a life on Earth with a status that is inescapable with out the faculties of photosynthesis- but to understand and appreciate the fact that life was sacrificed somewhere down the line. It's a fact of life, so get over it and don't get too worked up about it, but be mindful.

The factor that I hadn't considered when developing my worldview came to me today, as I had a friend show me the new sequel to the Dead Rising game for the Xbox: Zombies. Zombies are not alive, they are instead undead. This is to say that they were once alive, then were once dead, and then proceeded to become not dead anymore. To kill something that is alive is to violate its active pursuit to maintain a living status, but to rise from the dead is an active violation of the status of being dead, which naturally follows being alive. One could then say that the zombie is the antagonist, violating the natural order of things. Yeah, okay, but then why do I feel such revulsion at the scenes in Dead Rising 2, when certain individuals cut down bloody scores of zombie hoards with glee... for fun? There are, in fact, characters in this video game who have taken advantage of the zombie epidemic to create gameshows, the premise of which is to slaughter zombies in as many numbers as possible in the most creative (and rather sadistic) ways.

So I ask myself, is this an affront to the zombies? Well, they are not alive, thus the only result of their being "killed" is to stop their rebellion to, their overturning of, the natural order. Perhaps I feel some sort of revulsion because these forms were once alive, were once living individuals with personalities, contributions and relationships. In a way, wantonly cutting down their zombie forms for amusement is an insult to the lives they once lived, like the mutilation of a corpse. Okay, so that's understandable, I guess. But my reaction goes beyond feelings for the zombies. And I find myself remembering Emmanuel Kant's perspective on the issue of human responsibilities to animals.

Kant did not believe as I do, that animals and all life has intrinsic value simply because it exists and so humans have the obligation to revere it. No, Kant believed that animals had little value in themselves. He did believe, however, that Humans had a moral responsibility not to mistreat animals. This was because this moral obligation helps humans to develop their own morality, their own humanity. That is to say, a man should treat a dog well not because he values the life of the dog, but because a human should be above the mistreatment of an innocent animal. It was for our own sake. This is a logic that seems applicable to my zombie problem. I may not have any real sympathies for the zombies (especially when they grab onto you and go for the jugular) but don't think that they should be herded into an arena to be cut down by contestants with chainsaws simply because, well, humans should be beyond such base destruction. I have to side with Kant on this one and say that zombie-killing shouldn't be done for sport because such activities are a threat to our own humanity, the development of our own morality.

I honestly never thought I'd have to decide where I stand on this subject... but life's full of surprises I guess. Now, in the event there is ever a large-scale zombie outbreak, I'll have my priorities figured out.

Small thoughts on a big thing

"You are a child of the universe,

No less than the moon or the stars.

You have a right to be here,

And whether or not it is clear to you,

The universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God,

Whatever you perceive Him to be,

And through all your trials and tribulations,

Be at peace with your soul."

Any thoughts on this? Are we really an integral and instinsic part of the universe or do we impose ourselves upon it? Should we strive for such an existance? Should we entertain such a perception or are we deluding ourselves in doing so? What are the alternative approaches?

Hello? Hellooooooo!!!! - or How Rude!

Is anybody out there? No? Well, okay then. Now I don't have to worry about posting anything interesting or sounding intelligent. Gosh, I probably don't even have to use grammar... Then again, the prospect of such freedom is scary, so I'll stick with the grammar for now (It'd be like running around the house in your underwear when no one else is home. It still feels wrong).
Which leads me to my thought of today: Cultural mores (pronounced "mor-ay") and folkways. I think it's funny that we come to believe that certain things are wrong and others are right, without ever questioning why. To be fair, many of the things your parents taught you as you were growing up are "right" and "wrong" for good reasons -most often to avoid conflict and show respect to others. Then again, if we never take the time to ask why we do or don't do things, why some things are and are not socially acceptable, we end up with manners and practices that really don't make sense (and perhaps are simply inconveniences).
The best examples of such pointless social rules are often realized when submerged in another culture. The clash of cultures and the misunderstandings that ensue often force one to contemplate why they ever did things in their way to begin with and why the alternative is (or really shouldn't be) acceptable. For example, I have an American friend who's living in Paris (a pretty culturally-compatible place for Americans). She once recounted for me an episode during which she dropped her passport on the metro and couldn't find where it had fallen. A passport is a pretty important thing to lose while in a foreign country, and her consequential distress at her inability to find it was understandable. She was getting panicky, after a few minutes and was down on her hands and knees looking, asking everyone near if they'd seen it. However, everyone on the subway was completely ignoring her, despite her constant "I've lost my passport!"
She initially thought that all these Parisians were simply cold, rude individuals, but upon telling her French friend of the incident, she learned that the people on the metro were trying to be polite. Had she said, "Can you help me find my passport?" any decent person on the train would have tried to help, but since she was only exclaiming how she had lost it, they did what they believed was the polite thing and completely ignored her. The reasoning behind this behavior was that they didn't want to embarrass this woman in her distress, and so they refused to acknowledge it. This response is a far cry from what many decent Americans would do, which would be to help the poor woman find her passport (hopefully), so she simply thought these strangers' refusal to even make eye contact with her was just rude.
And so at the risk of this question echoing as it bounces off of the empty walls of this blog... Can you think of any manners or customs that you've been taught that don't make much sense when you stop and think about them? Have you ever been confronted with a different way of doing things -whether in a different household or a different country- that has ever seemed wrong or made you question the way that you do things?

Nature Deficit Disorder

The public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County chooses a book each month for community reading and June's book is called Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv. In it, Louv argues that children in today's American society are growing up deprived of the experience of the outdoors for various reasons (society obsession with electronics, changing educational standards, etc.). In addition, he cites reasons for rekindling a connection with nature and the benefits to children that come with an exposure to nature. You skim my thoughts on the issue at http://hoveringkestral.blogspot.com/

But what do you think? Is there a "nature deficit disorder?" Should it be rectified? Is there any other way to learn the lessons that nature can teach?

Culture and the Human Condition

My grandparents have been lucky enough to have traveled to various locales all over the world. Never having believed this was something they would have done, they concede that the experience was one of the greatest they've ever had. My parents (and my mother especially), on the other hand, have no desire to venture outside the Midwest. I cannot fault them for being content to live where they are, but their desire to evade any sense of cultural discomfort is somewhat disconcerting. This is to say that my parents don't want to submerge themselves within a culture in which they are uncomfortable (ie. the minority). I think that part of this clear fear of culture shock stems from an inability to understand the ingrained cultural conscience that leads a people to hold different values or to see the world differently than you do. My parents, and many others I sure, can't understand how people who could otherwise be so similar to them can almost unanimously subscribe to a worldview that leads them to see things so differently.

I don't regard anyone with this aversion as wrong. It's only natural to seek out those who hold beliefs similar to one's own. Perhaps that's how we end up with different countries in the first place. But I do think that such an approach is too short sighted. Social animals like humans are inescapably shaped by the culture they grow up in. regardless of the values instilled by one's parents, regardless of the independent thinking done by the individual, people are products of their culture and the philosophies in which they are submerged. When, where, and to whom one is born has a powerful effect on the final product that is the human individual and those beliefs perceived to be simple facts of life by the majority ultimately sculpt the worldview to which a person subscribes, indirectly influencing the decisions they may make in life.

This said, I don't think that a tendency to shy away from cultures whose collective beliefs are different isn't a natural response, but I do believe it to feed into an unhealthy ethnocentrism that only hinders global progress in an ever-increasingly globalized community. The human condition hasn't changed for as long as the species has been around. Islanders in the Philippines 1000 years ago (assuming the islands were there back then) are fundamentally the same as the residents of New York City today -and yet they are very different. How is this reconciled? The human being is a standard-sized canvas, and universally white fro the beginning, but it is the cultural philosophies and ideologies that we grow up in that determines the paint job we get. So, I propose that anyone, under different cultural influences, could hold different views about life had the situation in which they grown up been different. Those Bosnians who see nothing more family-friendly than a day at the nude beach could have turned out just like my parents had they too grown up in the American Midwest. Any canvas on which is a Jackson Pollack could very well have been covered in a Marie Cassat under different conditions.

I find it amazing how pliable humans can be.

New and Improved

Do you think there's a way to reach an equilibrium in the realm of consumerism? There's need being incessantly created and fulfilled. There's constant production and consumption. There's never ending harvesting of resources and waste. And yet, the reuse and recycling of creative work is seen as an economic detriment, an injustice to the creators of a product. You don't buy a product new, and the creators of the product don't profit. You buy a product used and you conserve the energy and resources use to make it new, but you take away an opportunity from the creators to benefit.

It would seem a compromise might be to fashion a system in which intellectual work is paid for without the consequential manufacture, consumption and accumulation of resources. Though I'm not going to pretend like such a system would be simple, it seems possible with our increasing reliance upon computers and consolidation facilitated by the Internet.

Self Absorbed?

I've been doing some research for a paper I'm writing on organic agricultural methods. My thesis is that organic agriculture is an ecologically-sensitive alternative to conventional methods of farming -that is, organic farming is better for the environment. So, I've been looking for research studies to back up this thesis, and there are sufficient studies to be found, most concerning soil fertility, non-target insect, bird and bat populations; however, these relevant studies must be fished out of an ocean of studies concerning organic farming as it pertains to human health. There are hundreds and hundreds of studies that have been done concerning organic produce and its nutritional content, even more concerning pesticide levels on fruits and vegetables and what these do or don't do when ingested, even more on organic farming and links to reduced cancer risk. And so I begin to wonder... what does this say about our priorities? We can send our planet to hell in a hand basket, sure, but when it comes to how pesticide residues on our apples and lettuce might affect our health, only then do we begin to pay attention. The bald eagle can be on the brink of extinction, but when organic oranges might be higher in antioxidants, we start to care. I just think it's a shame that we only begin to show concern when we are the ones directly affected.

I believe that a concern for one's own interests is innate within a species -self-preservation is, understandably, high priority. But isn't it rather shortsighted of us and aren't we a little, well, vain?

Does anyone else think this, or is it just me?

Good Things to Have

"I asked one of the key developers what motivated him. He said that, unlike scientists who carve out truth claims, he prefered inventing good things to have. In this, I think he headlined a core shared idea of our new age. Tens of millions of us go to work everyday to create, make sell, and service good things to have" (On Value and Values Douglas Smith 125)

I came across this quote when reading for my Realm of Values class and it perplexed me. The author is describing how a scientist describes how he no longer is searching for scientific truths, but instead creates good things to have. This idea bothers me especially when Smith claims this is headlined a shared idea of our new age. Smith is stating that many individuals seek things that are "good to have" this materialism bothers me. I know we all enjoy our ipods and own laptop computers, but what about the environmental damage mining for lithium to have batteries? Is our own materialism leading to environmental damage (There is an article in the National Geographic that talks about the damaging Environmental effects of Gold if anyone would be interested in further reading, i know it does not deal with lithium, but the idea of drastic enviromental effects for greed is illustrated). I understand that with new technology there are two sides to every coin. For example, new technology has allowed us to develop purses that can charge a cell phone or ipod based on solar power. However, how many of those purses do you see these days? Does the quote illustrate how materialistic our society has gone that we only think about the things that are good to have and do not think about their implications? Does it show that the average american cares more about material status then discovering scientific truths?

Intention

I remember going to the Cincinnati Art Museum with my mom. We were looking at a painting by Picasso and my mom makes the comment, "That's ugly." Well, okay. I guess she's allowed to think that. But then she says, "I don't know why they put it in the art museum. I mean, I could do that." Woha. Thems fightn' words. So I decided to explain to her about Picasso's background and the world he grew up in. I explained about how he was painting photographically by his teens and how, with the advent of the camera, this sort of style was no longer necessary. I explained how Picasso sought to grab attention, to make a statement by purposely skewing his figures, by making them so different from life. I pointed out how, if you look closely, you can see that the artist was educated, that he was applying all of the principles of design found in good artwork, and those that were violated were done so with purpose. He had done all of this on purpose.

She looked at me and said, "Whatever. I still could have done it."

I looked at her and said, "But you didn't."

When regarding any product, be it a painting, a poem, or dance, and when regarding any action, be it a smile, a posture, or glance, intention speaks volumes. These things are interpreted with or without the actor's blessing, taking on a life of their own, but intention still matters. Sure, my mom could have done that Picasso painting, but Picasso did it, and Picasso could have done much "better" than that and chose not to. His intention is what makes his work so powerful. The same work could have been produced by two different artists, the same passage written by two different authors, the same words spoken by two different people, yet the actions of one of each pair can possibly and most reasonably be more powerful than those of the other. And all because of intention.

And I don't believe anything happens without intention. One can argue that people do things unintentionally all the time, but I don't know that this is true. Things are interpreted by the world differently than the author has intended all the time, yes, but the initial intention was still there. And perhaps, if you subscribe to Freudian teachings, those unconscious slips aren't all unintentional either. Personally, I don't think that anything can come to be by accident; that is, I don't believe that anything has no purpose. And so all must begin with at least some sort of Divine intention, at least.

Jamie Oliver is this year’s winner of the TED prize. Past recipients range from Billy Graham to Richard Dawkins. The basic modus operandi of the TED conference and the prize is that the recipient receives a large sum of money to spend however they like. The intention, of course, is to pick altruistic and intelligent people who need funding without any agenda or political motivation behind it. This year’s recipient is Jamie Oliver, AKA, the Naked Chef.

Oliver, or as I should say, Sir Oliver has made it his own personal crusade to improve food quality and to fight obesity. He began his fight over in the UK and has taken it here believing that others will follow our lead. He has received massive support from the TED prize to a new ABC show and even joining hands with Michelle Obama. Needless to say he is not for want of personal wealth or outside funding. He is an extremely successful business man who raised himself up from working in a pub to being a multi-millionaire, in other words, he understands business. Oliver has thrived in the free market capitalist system that most moral crusaders, like Michael Moore, attempt to change. He, on the other hand, is trying to use it.

Oliver believes that a real change of values will not come from above like the hortatory campaigns of “Just say no”, or D.A.R.E. rather he believes that change will come from a general grass roots conversion of values that will reshape broadly how Americans think, eat, and most importantly spend. In a very similar fashion to the effect of Upton Sinclaire’s The Jungle, Oliver hopes that his new T.V. show will change the value sets of Americans. The idea that Americans will demand greater accountability from their food vendors is not something is entirely new or unheard of. Also, he makes the point that these companies are not bent on killing you, merely making a profit. If people decide to buy food from a healthier restaurant then the market will move as such.

A liberal market economy is much like an ecosystem; animals will live in an area where they can most readily survive. So too will businesses; if there is no market for selling rancid food then the rancid food vendors will go out of business. Oliver’s point is well taken; change must come from below and be aimed at the values of consumers. Education, options, and most of all, awareness are required for this change to happen. This is where government can come in. Once value sets are changed people will vote accordingly and regulations, like the creation of the FDA after Sinclair’s novel, will be passed. Also, education will change; at least Oliver hopes so, to facilitate more cooking and awareness of nutrition.

Hopefully Oliver succeeds on his quest to make food healthier, but I think that his manner of questing seems to be revolutionary. It’s not directed at any specific group nor is it taking on some variety of moralism, but it is basically practical. It hits America where it hurts: the wallet. Make it no longer profitable to sell bad food and no more bad food will be sold. The most effective way of changing things is not to yell at people or to lecture, but rather to convince them. The reason why the war on drugs has been slow and the fight against global warming stagnant is that they both appear to be shoved down people’s throats. It would not be profitable to take on these issues for companies or private individuals as is. Therefore, you need to make it profitable to change rather than not; move the market and you change people.

The Prophet

Lately, I've been reading (and re-reading) the work of Lebanese philosopher Kahlil Gibran - primarily The Prophet. There is one passage in particular that is sticking with me. It's so beautiful...it makes my heart hurt.

So, I decided to share it with you:

"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance" (81).

Thoughts?

Hope everyone enjoys the TMC Philosophy Club's blog. Now start Philosophizing! :)