Who dares to be better than Aristotle?

A week ago I posted about something I called "Strauss's Paradox" on the strength of an extensive quote from Leo Strauss. I have more to say on the subject of applying natural reason to questions of ethics, but first I want to step aside to look at a question Strauss asks in that long quote.

His topic is whether there is a teleology for Man, because any natural ethics would have to be based on some kind of natural teleology. And what he says, in his normally indirect way, is this:

"From the point of view of Aristotle -- and who could dare to claim to be a better judge in this matter than Aristotle? -- the issue between the mechanical and the teleological conception of the universe is decided by the manner in which the problem of the heavens, the heavenly bodies, and their motion is solved."

Now, Strauss never states whether he agrees with this opinion, or not. He asks rhetorically who dares to claim to be a better judge than Aristotle, but we can't see his face as he asks it -- so we don't know if he is smirking at a private joke, or in dead earnest. But what he does give us -- and this is vintage Strauss -- is a footnote to the exact references in Aristotle on which he bases his remarks. That footnote reads in full as follows:

Physics 196a25 ff., 199a3-5

OK, what does Aristotle say in those places? I don't own a copy of the Physics and it took me a little while to find a copy online that included Bekker numbering. But I finally found a PDF of the Revised Oxford Translation. Here, therefore, are the two paragraphs which include the passages that Strauss indicates.

196a25-196b4 There are some who actually ascribe this heavenly sphere and all the worlds to spontaneity. They say that the vortex arose spontaneously, i.e. the motion that separated and arranged the universe in its present order. This statement might well cause surprise. For they are asserting that chance is not responsible for the existence or generation of animals and plants, nature or mind or something of the kind being the cause of them (for it is not any chance thing that comes from a given seed but an olive from one kind and a man from another); and yet at the same time they assert that the heavenly sphere and the divinest of visible things arose spontaneously, having no such cause as is assigned to animals and plants. Yet if this is so, it is a fact which deserves to be dwelt upon, and something might well have been said about it. For besides the other absurdities of the statement, it is the more absurd that people should make it when they see nothing coming to be spontaneously in the heavens, but much happening by chance among the things which as they say are not due to chance; whereas we should have expected exactly the opposite.

198b34-199a8 Such are the arguments (and others of the kind) which may cause difficulty on this point. Yet it is impossible that this should be the true view. For teeth and all other natural things either invariably or for the most part come about in a given way; but of not one of the results of chance or spontaneity is this true. We do not ascribe to chance or mere coincidence the frequency of rain in winter, but frequent rain in summer we do; nor heat in summer but only if we have it in winter. If then, it is agreed that things are either the result of coincidence or for the sake of something, and these cannot be the result of coincidence or spontaneity, it follows that they must be for the sake of something; and that such things are all due to nature even the champions of the theory which is before us would agree. Therefore action for an end is present in things which come to be and are by nature.

To summarize. The first selection says that we are more likely to find design in the heavens than we do on earth, because there is never anything new in the heavens. The second selection says that we can see regular patterns in nature, so therefore natural events cannot have come about by accident.

Leaving Strauss aside for a minute, is there any way that we could accept these arguments today?

• The first one fails because we now know that things do change in the heavens: stars are born and die, and rocks fall from interplanetary space to land on the Earth.
• The second one confuses the assertion (a) that the world originally arose in an unplanned way long ago in the depths of time (but follows definite laws so that after a while regular patterns have showed up) with the assertion (b) that all events in nature happen stochastically all the time. Since (b) is plainly false, Aristotle infers (mistakenly, I think) that (a) must also be false. 

In other words, neither argument would fly today. It is true that the second paragraph could be reworked or adapted into something stronger, by making the argument that the regularities of natural physical law are so remarkable that the odds are against them having happened by accident. But the first paragraph is -- in light of what we know today -- clearly a joke.

The only remaining question is the biographical one whether Strauss understood that those arguments could not stand on their own today. If yes, then his footnote is intended as a subtle wink and nod to his reader, allowing him to pay public deference to the pre-modern view of teleology while not really believing it. If no, then it is a remarkable coincidence that he just happened to find two such weak arguments to support a position he really believed.

Of course the man is dead now, so I suppose we shall never know for sure. But my guess is for Yes. As far as the biographical question about Strauss's personal opinions is concerned, I find the argument from design (i.e., that he chose those passages on purpose) stronger than the argument from random accident.   

    

Strauss's Paradox

What is good? What is not good? And how can you tell?

Ancient philosophy, at least following Aristotle, had a pretty straightforward way to answer the last question. It started by examining the nature or purposes of the animal Man. Then any behavior aligned with that nature or supportive of those purposes was "good"; behavior that conflicted with that nature or thwarted those purposes was "bad". Sounds simple enough.

The problem is that these days, if you talk about humans having a natural purpose or goal, people look at you funny. We're supposed to be so much more sophisticated than that now. We're supposed to know better. We're supposed to know that the world wasn't designed with us in mind, and there are no natural ends we are supposed to fulfill. When we choose between right and wrong, it's really just a fancy way of talking about what we wish or what we want; or else it's an expression of our society's values. Or something like that.

But does anyone really believe this? If morality is arbitrary then why do we universally condemn Leopold and Loeb? (Which we do.) Why do we say that it is good to eradicate smallpox but evil to eradicate groups of human beings? (Which, again, we do.) Clearly nobody really believes that morality is arbitrary. The only reason anybody ever says so is because they don't know how to make a case to the contrary, and so they feel boxed in.

What does it take to make a case to the contrary? Well if there is an objective right and wrong, where does it come from? One answer is religious: these things are right and those are wrong because God said so. If someone is squeamish about this answer, the other traditional answer is Aristotle's: our sense of right and wrong comes somehow from Nature, from our nature. But in that case, why can natural scientists not isolate right and wrong under a microscope? Surely scientists study Nature more closely than anybody else -- why can't they wrap right and wrong into a tidy equation, like gravity?

Back in a very early post, I talked about this odd disjunction between a seemingly purposeless natural world and the obviously purposeful lives that we lead as natural beings inside that world. And I proposed that this disjunction should be called Strauss's Paradox. This name is a nod to Leo Strauss, who described the problem right at the beginning of his classic Natural Right and History.

Natural right in its classic form is connected with a teleological view of the universe. All natural beings have a natural end, a natural destiny, which determines what kind of operation is good for them. In the case of man, reason is required for discerning these operations: reason determines what is by nature right with ultimate regard to man's natural end. The teleological view of the universe, of which the teleological view of man forms a part, would seem to have been destroyed by modern natural science. From the point of view of Aristotle -- and who could dare to claim to be a better judge in this matter than Aristotle? -- the issue between the mechanical and the teleological conception of the universe is decided by the manner in which the problem of the heavens, the heavenly bodies, and their motion is solved. Now in this respect, which from Aristotle's own point of view was the decisive one, the issue seems to have been decided in favor of the nonteleological conception of the universe. Two opposite conclusions could be drawn from this momentous decision. According to one, the nonteleological conception of the universe must be followed up by a nonteleological conception of human life. But this "naturalistic" solution is exposed to grave difficulties: it seems to be impossible to give an adequate account of human ends by conceiving of them merely as posited by desires or impulses. Therefore, the alternative solution has prevailed. This means that people were forced to accept a fundamental, typically modern, dualism of a nonteleological natural science and a teleological science of man. [...] The fundamental dilemma, in whose grip we are, is caused by the victory of modern natural science. An adequate solution to the problem of natural right cannot be found before this basic problem has been solved.

Leo Strauss, Natural Right and History, pp. 7-8



It is this paradox that I propose to discuss here.

First, why is it a paradox? I use the word in the most general sense, to indicate any kind of conundrum where there is a superficially plausible argument supporting some claim and another superficially plausible argument denying it. In this case, the claim is that there is a teleology (a nature, a purpose) for Man. On the one hand it looks like the answer is yes, because it looks hard to make sense of human life in any other way. On the other hand it looks like the answer is no, because Man is clearly part of the natural world (whatever else he might be) and it looks like there is no teleology for the natural world as a whole. Superficially yes, superficially no. Under the most general definition, we can call it a paradox.

Presumably it is clear that there are at least three ways to resolve this paradox.

(1) We can deny the first branch, and conclude that the seeming teleology inherent in human life is an illusion. In that case there is no innate purpose in anything anywhere. This is the nihilistic view, and it is easy because all we have to do is close our eyes to any apparent counterexample.

(2) We can deny the second branch, and conclude that there is a teleology of the whole which includes the teleology of Man as a special case. This is, as I understand it, more like the Aristotelian view. This approach is difficult because it involves building a complete understanding of the natural world that is different from the prevailing or majority view in the modern scientific community; and anybody who wants to take on that community (in this day and age, at any rate) has his work cut out for him.

(3) We can inquire whether a teleology of Man perhaps need not depend on a teleology of the whole. I think this is the most fruitful approach.

Therefore I propose to argue that, supposing the initial hypothesis that there is no teleology for the whole, there is nonetheless a teleology for Man. I will defer till another day any significant discussion of the content of this teleology: whether we are born for the sake of Reason, or for the sake of Art, or for the sake of Video Games. (Spoiler alert: I don't think it is that last one.) In other words, I will be satisfied for today to argue that a teleology for Man exists without inquiring into the details. That part can wait till later.

The argument takes the following form. The main theorem is that, for any living organism, there is a teleology for that organism, even in the absence of a teleology for the whole. Then it is an easy corollary to point out that Man is a living organism, and so there is a teleology for Man.

In everything that follows, I am going to assume the hypothesis that there is no teleology of the whole, so I don't have to keep repeating it.

So. What is a living organism?

The full definition is probably pretty long. I can't quote it. But one of the essential features of a living organism is that -- by definition -- it is an autopoietic system. What does that mean? The article in Wikipedia ("Autopoiesis") says: "The term autopoiesis ... refers to a system capable of reproducing and maintaining itself." For example, think of our skin. We are always losing a layer of skin, as it dries up and flakes off; but we never run out of skin because our body always makes more. When you think of any other living organism, you can think of plenty of other examples. When a machine breaks down, someone has to intervene from the outside to fix it. When a rock wears away, it is all gone. But when a living body breaks down (within limits) it rebuilds itself. When a living body wears away (think of our skin again), it replaces itself. This self-replicating structure is part of what we mean when we say something is alive.

Any autopoietic system can be clearly distinguished from its background. In a landscape, it may not be quite obvious where exactly the rocks give way to the beach; in a storm at sea it can be hard to be sure where exactly is the surface of the water. But for any organism, it is always clear what is inside (part of the organism) and what is outside. The inside is whatever gets replicated and maintained by the processes that take place inside the organism.

Therefore we can talk about the organism as unique and distinct from the environment, as having a being or a nature independent from its environment.

In the same way, we can distinguish these processes themselves, because they repeat in a regular and predictable way. Respiration, perspiration, circulation of the blood -- all of these happen systematically. Each one is triggered in a certain way, takes place in a certain way, and has a specific result. Moreover, the circular (i.e., self-feeding) nature of the system means that one process sets up another in a regular way -- and each process sets up the same next process under the same conditions.

Therefore we can see linkages between the processes, and we can trace how these linked processes serve to maintain the stability and uniformity of the organism. Once we see these linkages, it is natural to speak of the processes "cooperating" to keep the organism alive -- i.e., to keep the selfsame processes still functioning. And in the same way it is natural to speak of "purposes" at a biological level. The lungs expand in order to bring fresh oxygen inside the body; the heart beats in order to distribute that oxygen (dissolved in the blood) throughout the body; and then the life and health of the body repairs any damage to the heart and the lungs.

This system of regular processes which interact to perpetuate themselves constitutes a teleology at a cellular level, or at the level of the single organism.

The same kind of self-feeding, self-maintaining processes can be seen in the interaction between an organism and its environment. Let us suppose that some life form evolved over time inside a specific environment. For it to have survived long enough for that evolution to take place, it must interact with the environment in a predictable, repeatable way that maintains its own life and -- taking the long view -- the environment's life as well. And again, this system of acquired traits which function in a self-maintaining way can be described as a system of interlocking purposes that are an innate feature of this organism's life in this environment.

It is in this way that the most materialist and anti-teleological biologist in the world can still say with a straight face that the reason cats have sharp, curved claws and strong pouncing muscles in their hind legs is in order to catch mice. (Cf. references to the same point in this post and this one. Both posts admit the need for a longer discussion which I don't give. Well, this is that longer discussion.)

This, too, is a teleology. And notice that it is a teleology which speaks (if I may use the term) to a "way of life". Cats are intended for a way of life that involves hunting mice. We can deduce this by looking at their biological endowments as organisms. So when I say that this argument supports a teleology for Man, I have in mind some kind of meaningful content about the human way of life as well. But that will be a later post (although this one is a good start).

Notice, finally, that at no point in this discussion have I had recourse to any conscious Designer or Demiurge. I have built everything on the nature of living organisms as such ... on what it means, by definition, to be alive. Many moderns believe that life can arise from non-life without a conscious Designer. Fine, let it be so. But this argument shows that a teleology of living organisms does not depend on any teleology of the whole.

QED.

 

What makes you "You"?

I have a friend at work named Alec. Today was the first time I've had a chance to talk to him since the New Year. And he told me his mother died December 20.

It was quite a story. Apparently it took almost a week to get her buried (although they are Jewish, and he explained that Jewish tradition says you have to bury the dead right away). First, ... December 20 was a Friday, but by the time she died it was after sundown so the mortuary was closed for the Sabbath. When he got a hold of them on Sunday they explained that burying someone, even in ground that is already zoned for a mortuary, requires a permit from the City (and of course the City wouldn't open till Monday). Then they told him they might get the permit in time for a service on Tuesday, but they might not ... and Wednesday was out because December 25 is a LEGAL holiday even for people who don't celebrate Christmas for religious or cultural reasons. So they held the funeral on Thursday. (sigh) On the other hand apparently she left her paperwork in very clean, simple order so that it was easy to transfer the bank accounts and other funds the way they were supposed to be transferred.

But one comment struck me. He said that her health had been failing for over a year, so that it was no surprise to anybody. Also her memory had gone, and she was suffering from dementia. But still ... what he said was, "When I visited her, I still had my mother there." She didn't have her MEMORIES. Sometimes she mistook Alec for his brother, or for her late husband, or for some other earlier husband that she NEVER HAD. But he talked about memories as if they were possessions, like furniture that you might abandon when you sell your house. (The comparison uses my words, not his ... but that was the spirit of it.) In other words, he said that even losing her memories didn't make her into SOMEBODY ELSE. She still had the voice, the character, the personality, the gestures, the particular phrasings, ... and he said that it was all of THOSE things that made her HER.

And of course the reason this struck me so strongly is that there is a long tradition of intellectual opinion that says your reason and your memories are exactly what make you You. In antiquity the Platonist school (for example) taught that suicide is morally wrong because our lives belong to the gods and not to ourselves, but they made an exception in the case where you can detect the onset of irreversible madness ... because in that case You no longer exist. And certainly I've heard plenty of people say, over the years, some variation on "When I don't know who I am any more, just pull the plug because I don't want to hang around after that" ... or else "because by then I'll already be gone and all that will be left is an uninhabited body" ... or something else that identifies US with our consciousness. Maybe this is what I get for spending so much time in schools, or around academically-inclined friends. Anyway, it's almost a commonplace in my book, and you've probably heard it plenty of times too.

And this is exactly the opinion that Alec denied. He said that her mind, her reason, and her memories were NOT what constituted his mother ... they were more like things that she owned, that of course she valued, but that she could give up at need without relinquishing what was fundamental about her. What he saw in her every time he visited this last year was something deeper and more fundamental than any reason or memories, something which told him that, in spite of everything, his mother was still there lying in bed talking to him.

That wasn't the center of what he said -- in 45 minutes that we talked he spent no more than a couple of minutes on this point. It's just me who has blown it all out of proportion because I think the implications are huge, and profound.

"Celine's laws"?

Yesterday I was looking up something totally legitimate and work related in Wikipedia, and after a couple of follow-on clicks found myself in an article that really wasn't … but that lists three "laws" framed by a fictional character written by Robert Anton Wilson. Maybe you know these laws by heart, but yesterday was the first time I ever saw them.

Part of what amuses me about them is that the first and third are quirky and funny (which I expected) … but the second is such an obvious piece of straightforward (but routinely ignored!) organizational advice that it ought to be burned into the flesh of anyone promoted into management. 

 

Herewith:

 

1. National Security is the chief cause of national insecurity.
2. Accurate communication is possible only in a non-punishing situation.
3. An honest politician is a national calamity.

 

And the article is here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Celine%27s_laws.

 

For your edification and amusement ….

 

 

The function of the orgasm

I've never read Wilhelm Reich's famous book by this name. I don't know what he says. Probably it is a lot more complex than anything I have to say. Still, I've been thinking about this for a while and want to write it down.

Apparently there is a debate among evolutionary biologists -- or was ten years ago -- about how the female orgasm evolved. See, for example, this book review as evidence. Why only the female orgasm? Apparently the thought is that it is pretty easy to account for the existence of the male orgasm in evolutionary terms: it has an adaptive value because it encourages men to have sex ("with women" is clearly assumed) and therefore ensures descendants. But this explanation has trouble explaining why women have orgasms too. After all, they don't have orgasms every time they have sex, and an orgasm is not necessary in order for a woman to get pregnant. One theory is that they tag along as a by-product of men's orgasms, the same way men have nipples but don't use them for anything. But not everyone accepts this theory; and, speaking as a layman, I have to add that it is a pretty remarkable by-product which -- when it gets going -- is so much more powerful, more energetic, and more renewable than the primary phenomenon from which it is derived. Maybe that's not what biologists find wrong with the theory, but I think it will do for a start.

From my perspective, though, the whole approach is wrong, starting with the very first step. That first step, remember, is that orgasm is a kind of bait to lure us into having sex in order that we have lots of children who spread the desire for sex, thus having still more children, and so on. And I reply that using orgasm as a bribe to get us to do something (in this case, have children) is outrageously inefficient and unreliable. If the only point of sex were children, we could be prompted to do it a lot more often with a lot less fuss. Look at eating: it's necessary for life, and we do it because we get hungry. Look at sleeping: it's necessary for ... well, something, I'm not sure we know what but it is clearly important ... and we do it because we get tired. Any man, be he never so orgasmic, will over the course of his life eat and sleep far more times than he will have sex. So if the purpose were to encourage us to have sex (and therefore many offspring), it could be achieved with a lot less fuss by making sex an activity like eating and sleeping: one that we engage in because to avoid it makes us grumpy and uncomfortable. There would be simply no need for the ecstasy and sublime exaltation of the spirit that come from orgasm.

What's more, if the purpose of orgasm is to make us generate children, orgasm should be impossible from same-sex contact. It should be impossible from masturbation. Manifestly it is neither of these things. Therefore, mere reproduction of the species cannot be the real or ultimate purpose of sex and of the orgasm.

What is?

Let's look at how it functions. Orgasmic ecstasy doesn't just feel good; it's not just a reward. Orgasmic ecstasy makes love -- that is, creates or generates love where it didn't exist (or might not have existed) before. That is, orgasmic ecstasy binds us to our partner. This binding need not be exclusive: the history of monogamy is a very spotty one. But it is binding, all the same. And interpersonal bonds are the fundamental components that make human society possible. If we love each other, then -- other things being equal (and boy, is that a huge condition!) -- we are more likely to stick together. Note that it is possible to spin this as an argument for choosy, consensual nonmonogamy. I'm not going to push that argument but I recognize that it is possible and some people have made it.

For those who really want to ground any discussion of purposes in a Darwinian framework, the next step is to point out that humans are pretty much defenseless on our own. What gives us survival potential is our sociability, our ability to live and work in groups. Anything that sustains and encourages sociability therefore has adaptive value, and sex is surely at the top of that list. That sex is (of course) also useful in reproduction can be seen, in this light, almost as a useful side-effect, a case of nature generously giving us two benefits for the price of one. That said, though, the only plausible reason or purpose behind an experience as extravagant as orgasm has to be not merely children but love.
        

"Deeply held American values"?

I bet you thought I'd forgotten all about this blog, but no such luck.

So I saw a news item last week that has me grumbling about its least important part, just because I'm like that. You may have heard about it. Some Congressman was shot in a baseball park during a practice for the annual Congressional baseball game. (Me, I didn't know there was an annual Congressional baseball game.)
 

The Congressman was a Republican; the shooter worked last year for the Bernie Sanders campaign and his social media suggest a strong hatred of conservatives. Anyway, Bernie Sanders commented for the news, predictably enough, "I am sickened by this despicable act. Real change can only come about through nonviolent action, and anything else runs against our most deeply held American values."

And that's fine. I'm with him right up to the last six words. Only, … what does he mean by the words "our most deeply held American values"?

This is what I mean by niggling over the least important thing in the whole article. I'm not griping about anything substantive. I totally agree that violence against Congressmen is a terrible thing: bad in itself, bad as precedent, and ineffective to boot. Charles Sumner was nearly killed on the Senate floor for opposing slavery, but in the end slavery was abolished anyway.

But, speaking purely as an anthropologist … can anyone seriously argue that nonviolent political action is one of our most deeply held American values? The archetypal stories we tell ourselves about who we are, all focus on violence: the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, maybe World War Two … and Westerns. Think how important the mythology of settling the frontier is to our identity … but the frontier didn't settle itself. In what other country could a lone man identify himself as "The only law west of the Pecos"? Nonviolence? Us? We're the country that coined the poker aphorism, "A Smith and Wesson beats four aces."

Or consider that the gun debate in this country never goes anywhere because the anti-gun lobby won't — can't — mention that we are the most heavily armed country in the world. And I'm talking about private weapons, not the military. What possible difference can it make to fiddle with the rules about who can buy new guns when there are so many old ones already out there? But the anti-gun lobby knows with certainty that any proposal to change that status quo is a nonstarter. It has no chance of being heard. Who does that say we are?

I'm not saying any of this is good. I totally agree with Sanders that this is not the way to improve a Congress you don't like. That's what voting is for. But I am saying that it represents a deeply held American value. Am I crazy? Or is this something that everybody knows, but nobody wants to say in public?
    

Damn near the best article on ethics I have ever read

Joan Didion's classic essay "On Self-Respect".

Makes the point, among others, that what is critical is not that you avoid this or that misdeed -- she is clear about saying that people with self-respect still screw up, or screw around -- but how you deal with it, and with yourself.

Nothing else matters half as much.

The consequence of this is that ethics isn't really about doing good deeds or avoiding bad ones. It's not something you can do with a checklist. It's about who you are, at the deepest level.

You can find it here: http://www.vogue.com/3241115/joan-didion-self-respect-essay-1961/