How, according to Kant, should one judge the moral worth of actions performed out of a feeling of compassion?

This essay may be of interest, not necessarily academically, but in its discussion of three differing views of morality.

For Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) “an action of this kind, however proper,…has nevertheless no true moral worth …”[1]
We will begin with Kant’s rejection of compassion (and inclination) as a morally worthy motive in favour of duty, before moving to the alternative views of David Hume and Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Kant’s possible reply to them; finally I will argue that only Hume came close to grasping the true ‘nature’ of morality. Kant failed to understand man and society and thus mistakenly ruled out emotion as a moral force.

The core of Kant’s moral system, as outlined in the Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals and elaborated upon in The Critique of Pure Reason and The Critique of Practical Reason, is the autonomous, free, rational willing of a ‘duty’ for the sake of duty alone. If an act can be performed with the logical willing that all should perform it in similar circumstances (if it is ‘universalizable’) then it is rational, moral, and dutiful. (This is Kant’s ‘Categorical Imperative’). In fact “Morality consists solely of rational principles…”[2] The only motive force is reason; and only rationally willed actions made for the sake of duty may be praised for only these are truly ‘free’, autonomous: acted upon because they ‘ought’ to be, independent of external influence.
Kant termed emotions, sensations, taste, all things such as ‘compassion’ as inclinations. He “denies that any action can be free (in the way required for moral worth) if it arises merely from rational inclination.”[3] This Kant termed the heteronomous will for it is acting, not freely/autonomously, but under the influence of innate proclivities within the individual. Because Kant wanted to argue for a universal a priori morality, he couldn’t allow for this individual variation to affect or act as the motive force for truly good action.
Importantly, we must not understand Kant to be condemning compassionate, or indeed any other beneficent act, action. He does, in fact, call them “beautiful”[4]. The point is thus not that compassion is immoral, but that it is amoral: without moral worth only in the sense that it would be unfair to praise someone for their ‘luck’ in being born with sympathetic, philanthropic, inclinations. No, it is the autonomous will that is to be praised, for it rationally chooses to follow its duty simply because it is its duty. Thus is practical love morally worthy for it has been chosen freely, whilst pathological, or emotional, love is beautiful but ultimately amoral.[5]

David Hume (1711-1776) and Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1778), both contemporaries and inspirations for Kant, present very different pictures of morality and its relation to emotions as motive forces. For them the concept of duty is derivative from sentiment, emotion.[6] In other words, they dispute the principle of reason as the basis for moral action and thus Kant’s rejection of sentiments such as compassion
For Rousseau, as with Kant, morality is universal. However, in strict opposition, this universality is based, not on a priori reason, but on “the immediate force of conscience as a result of our own nature, independent [my emphasis] of reason itself.”[7] Reason, for Rousseau, is simply the interpreter of innate feelings into intelligible moral frameworks. It is this innate nature, conscience, in man which is the reason for the universal morality as outlined in Emile.
“The morality of our actions consists entirely in the judgements we ourselves form with regard to them. If good is good, it must be good in the depth of our heart as well as in our actions.”[8]
Thus we can see that in this interpretation, compassion is very much a moral motive for action and worthy of praise.* Rousseau and Kant disagree on the nature and thus the value of motives for action.
David Hume’s morality, as outlined in Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, is both naturalistic and strictly empirical.[9] Reject “warm feelings and prepossessions in favour of virtue…and morality is no longer a practical study nor has any tendency to regulate our lives and actions.”[10] Once again, as in Rousseau, we see that the ground of value is sentiment, not reason. Reason gives us how to get what we want but not what we want: “Reason…is no motive to action and directs only the impulse received from the appetite.”[11] Hume wanted to ground motivation strictly with sensation. Not only this, but his empiricism demanded a rejection of every system of ethics not founded on fact and observation.[12] Thus a maxim cannot be true in and of itself without reference to the external world. This is in clear opposition to Kant’s rational a priori system. Hume strongly disagrees, once again, with the rejection of compassion, a sentiment, as a ‘moral’ action. Duty, the ‘ought’ of morality, cannot be derived from the ‘is’ of the world, from any statement of fact; rather we must turn to sentiment and its approbation.
For him, this is everything that morality is.
“Reason is, and ought to be, the slave of the passions.”[13]
How then might Kant reply?
Why should we praise an action or a motive on the basis of the inclination of a person? If someone is born with a specific temperament, compassion for example, why on earth should they be lauded by others? They are simply lucky to be born like this; there is little effort on their part to do the ‘right thing’. This is a seductive point and still a problem today. It seems ‘right’ to us to praise someone for a compassionate act, for altruism effected by sympathy or some other quality of temperament. Yet, observed logically, if one has, simply as a part of one’s mental makeup, a proclivity towards certain action it should be no surprise, even less a cause of moral praise to see this psychological potential fulfilled. It is from this powerful standpoint that Kant argues for reason not emotion as a moral motive. But this is simply not how we think, and if it not how we think and how we reason our actions, how can it be anything other than an, admittedly admirable, moral construct. Hume and Rousseau, in arguing for a sentiment-based morality are more accurately reflecting the world. Kant has idealised morality; made it perhaps what he wishes it was, but not in fact what it ever can be.
Furthermore, I would argue (as it turns out Hume also did[14]) that reason as the ultimate ground of action and moral deliberation is untenable from the point of motive regression.
For it must surely be seen, firstly, that in Kant’s conception of the moral action being that which is derived from a rational duty acted upon for duty’s sake there must be a sentiment behind this. To act simply for duty’s sake means that there must be a desire for dutiful action. Kant’s reasoning is simply circular in arguing for duty as an independent motivation. Thus behind the rational construct in Kant’s system is the sensation: returning us to compassion as the ground for moral action.
Secondly, on a very much related point, if we fail to recognise this conclusion we are left with, to paraphrase Hume, an infinite regression from reason to reason. “Something must be desirable on its own account…”[15] and grounded in emotion rather than the logically impossible basis of reason, for then we never get anywhere with a true identification of motive. Sentiment is, and must, be the ground for moral decision. I will, however, argue a different interpretation of the results of such a view below.

‘Morality’ as a concept, makes sense in the context of human society. This is, however, purely a functional construct, existent only because it is useful to us here and now. This is why moral codes vary so much across countries, cultures, traditions, and time-period. There is no objective moral standard, be it Kant’s a priori or Rousseau’s innate nature of man. Even the traditional ‘goods’ of society, supposedly spread across a number of cultures and thus ‘legitimated’ are often simple derivatives of one culture in whom we share common intellectual history, who themselves are amalgams of yet earlier functional societies: successful because their social interactions worked as the basis for general practice. Morality is indeed based on sentiment, but ultimately it is the socially derived and communally beneficial sentiment of interactive and self-interested beings: Different everywhere and everywhen, both between cultures and more subtly between individuals within cultures.
Ultimately, Kant’s designation of sentiment as amoral is a failure to recognise the nature of mankind. His morality falls on the false premise of a universality that is simply unknown.


[1] Kant, quoted in Solomon, p549
[2] Ibid., p547
[3] Benn, p94
[4] Ibid., p95
[5] Solomon, p551
[6] Solomon, p546
[7] Emile, quoted in Solomon p.545
[8] Ibid. p543
* Reason still plays an important part in moral judgement; sentiment here is ‘tied to a kind of natural reason’ with conscience as a powerful moral feeling very much linked with divine reason. (Solomon, p543)
[9] Solomon, p541
[10] Hume, quoted in Solomon, p541
[11] Ibid. p540
[12] Ibid. p541
[13] Ibid. p539
[14]Hume in Solomon, p541-542
[15] Ibid.

© Alan Bowden, 2005

Can there be a CHRISTIAN doctrine of creation?

The following is an essay I wrote late last year; long, yes, but food for thought perhaps.

There can indeed be a specifically Christian doctrine of creation; and such a doctrine must have its emphasis in Christ. Christ as Creator, Christ as Redeemer, the Christ of John 1 and of Paul. Christ as creation.
I will argue for an emphasis on a two-fold, christocentric, continuous, contingent and, I believe crucially, New Testament based creation ‘account’[1] augmented by Old Testament scripture.

What are we to understand by ‘creation’? To speak of a Christian doctrine, one must surely first have an idea of what it is we are attempting to formulate (perhaps a better word is ‘discover’).
Well, no, for it seems that the instant we begin to think about this ‘creation’ and what it might involve we begin to get into difficulties of definition. Should we in fact speak of ‘Creation’?
Not only this, the instant we speak of creation we begin to speak of doctrines of creation.
Thus we must understand that all come to the discussion with preconceptions impossible to shake off; with a term loaded with significance and connotations.
So can the Oxford English Dictionary help us?

Creation
• noun 1 the action or process of creating. 2 a thing which has been made or invented, especially something showing artistic talent.
3 (the Creation) the creating of the universe regarded as an act of God. 4 (Creation) literary the universe.[2]

Well, this sends us in something of a circle. We need more than ‘creation’. We need to know what it is to create.

Create
• verb 1 bring into existence[3]

Now we are getting somewhere. To create is to ‘bring into existence’. This is what we are trying to understand, to make intelligible. Ludwig Wittgenstein framed the question well when he said "It is not how things are in the world that is mystical, but that it exists.”[4]

So how should a Christian understand such a challenge? What would a Christian doctrine of creation be like?
Firstly, “The doctrine of creation is not the story of an event which took place ‘once upon a time.’ It is the basic description of the relation between God and the world.”[5] (Tillich) Christian creation is not about narrative. The ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…’ (Gen. 1 v1)[6] of Genesis is not the place to begin theologically, it is simply where the Bible narrative begins. Rather, because “Creation…describes the miracle of existence in general…”[7] and our place in it, it must begin with Jesus Christ. It must begin and find its ultimate emphases, therefore, with the New Testament; and it should find its practise in the daily lives of all Christians.
Any Christian doctrine of Creation must have a two-fold emphasis within the New Testament revelation: That of Christ the Creator and Christ the Redeemer.
“What Jesus did and said points to the underlying meaning and purpose of the creation.”[8]
It is important to understand that this is not “the unhappy tradition of distinguishing between creation and redemption as between two distinct modes or steps of divine activity” described by Gregory Baum[9]. For, in line with Karl Barth, the almost absolute emphasis on Jesus Christ as the goal and consummation of creation allows for a non-confliction of the ontological and the soteriological.

Christ as Creator
Christ is creator in his Trinitarian oneness with the Father, in his presence at ‘the beginning’ regardless of whether, by this beginning, we are speaking temporally or of an ontological ‘source’.
This shown by Christ as Logos:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was With God, and
the Word was God, He was with God in the beginning. (John 1 v1-2)
Now follows the crux of the first part of our two-fold emphasis:
Through him all things were made; without him nothing
was made that has been made. (John 1 v3)
Further, Christ is not only “first born over all creation” (1 Col v15), “the beginning of creation, he is also the beginning of the new creation, as demonstrated for the writer of Colossians by his resurrection.”[10]
Colossians 1: v15-20 and Hebrews 1 v3 give us the idea of a continuous creation (or creatio continua) in the phrases “in him all things hold together…” (Col. 1 v17) and “sustaining all things by his powerful word.” Thus “God creates and sustains the entire universe rather than just the beginning.” (Don Page)[11] He “out of eternity creates things and time together…He is creative in every moment of temporal existence” (Paul Tillich)[12] This action is unique (sui generis) and ultimately unintelligible except by allusion through human analogy and metaphor.
It is important to understand that our emphasis on Christ in not to the detriment of the ‘Father’ for it is through the revelation of Christ that we come to a fuller understanding of the Father’s creation. Christ is that manifestation of God by which we know the aspect of the Father; by which we understand the ‘miracle of existence’. This is similar to Karl Barth’s view found in his Church Dogmatics although crucially different in once respect.
Whereas Barth argues that “God is unknown as our Father, as the creator, to the degree that he is not made known by Jesus…”[13] surely one must take the Old Testament texts as accounts of the Father prior to the historical revelation of the Person of Christ. This is not to say that primacy should still not be given to New Testament creation scripture but to argue Christ to the exclusion of the possibility of all other epistemology seems extreme.
So can a Christian doctrine of creation include natural theology as one of its emphases?
Karl Barth’s answer is, as we have seen, an emphatic ‘no’. For Barth God is so radically other (Young) from his creation in ‘material’ terms that knowledge aside from Christ’s revelation is impossible. Yet others such as the neo-Barthians Eberhard Jü­ngel and Christian Link “see a need to overcome a certain narrowness in the original Barthian approach…”[14] Link rejected metaphysics in the philosophical sense: “inference from certain given ‘orders’ ”[15] and focuses instead on Jesus’ parables as examples of “faith actively shaping reality…”[16] Jüngel is similar in that he argued that you can learn nothing of God from nature but “that the word of God has a good deal to say about nature…as a new vision of the universe constituted through the event of redemption in Christ.”[17]
I would argue that the emphasis for the doctrine of creation as regards natural theology is that nature can glorify god, informing us of him by revealing his works to us. This is not to say that the creation is God (this is not process theology) rather that we can come to know someone or something by their actions. We do this in God’s case by observing His cosmos in Faith. Science is, then, arguably natural theology in many ways.

Christ as Redeemer
Christ Creator is he “In whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Col. 1 v14)
Redemption is the consummation and telos (‘end’) of creation. “The ordaining of salvation for man and of man is the original and basic will of God, the ground and purpose of His will as Creator…”[18] as Karl Barth put it.
This is where our two-fold emphasis can be seen for the unity that it truly is. Christ the Creator and Redeemer is the one Christ of the Cross. “…the cross is not only the parabolic suggestion of the divine reconciliation, it is this reconciliation, its completion, its reality.”[19] Creation is one overarching soteriological act consummated in Christ’s sacrifice: “the redemptive covenant.” (Baum)[20]
The New Testament is riddled with references to redemption and salvation, for this is Gospel itself: 1 Peter 1 v18, Ephesians 1 v7, Galatians 3 v14, Colossians 1 v14, Titus 2 v14, Romans 3 v24 to name but a few. The kerygma (proclamation) is in many senses the creation; and Christ’s death and resurrection are the consummation and confirmation of the covenant and the coming of the Kingdom of God. By this I mean that in Christ’s taking on of the world’s sins, His dying to sin, and His rising to new life we may find the ethic of creation itself, the ground of being of the cosmos: That is to say, God as Creator, Redeemer, and Holy Spirit upon whom the universe is contingent. (Col. 1v17).
The universe is thus contingent, but in the sense that God affects our actions indirectly. He doesn’t strictly affect, he effects through his sustaining action. I am here referring to the concept of ‘two co-existing actions’.[21]
· The genuinely independent causal activity of the world, or ‘secondary causation’; and
· God’s primary causation, which is the ‘uniform enabling of the secondary causes’ power to act’ (Wiles, 1986, p34).[22]
We have this freedom of action from God, that is, we have free-will, because of this dual causality. God is ‘epistemically-distant’. In other words, we do not ‘know’ the transcendent God as close to us in the conventional sense for if we did, how could our actions be said to be truly free? God is immanent in the presence of the Holy Spirit sent down on Pentecost (Acts 2) yet this is not a coercive force “but a guiding within the inherent openness of the flux of becoming.”[23]

A Christian doctrine of Creation, as well as being metaphysical, must be ethical. If the cosmos is “the actualisation of the Christ-life in the material structures of being…”[24] then how are we to receive this gift of existence; this divine gift of love found in the cross?
This question has been framed in reference to the ‘ecological crisis’: “a crisis in the human relationship to nature, in human beings’ understanding of themselves in relationship to nature.”[25] How we treat the natural world is an ethical question in the doctrine of creation. Our ‘rule’ over the world* as found in Genesis 1 v28 should be one of stewardship rather than exploitation, to “act as the visible representatives of God’s benevolent care for creation.”[26] Hence, we should “care for and…preserve the creation”[27] in and for Christ.

Thus, I argue that Christ is the core of a Christian doctrine of Creation. Christ as Creator (Jhn 1v1-3) and Christ as Redeemer (Col 1v14) whom we find as one in the Cross (Gal. 6v14). This is to be based on the New Testament, with reference to the Old for understanding of the Father. But consummation of creation is the Gospel, and the Gospel is Christ in 1st Century Palestine, dying for new life. Thus is our doctrine that of the Gospels, the New Testament.
Furthermore, a doctrine of creation must seemingly be a universal one, without exclusion for those not of faith; for the whole of creation was created for salvation, and salvation for the whole of creation. This is not universalism+; rather it is universal opportunity for salvation through the cross.

[1] Brunner, p6-7
[2] http://www.askoxford.com/ Search results for ‘creation’. It must be noted that this is the Compact OED.
[3] Ibid. Search results for ‘create’.
[4] Wittgenstein, p73
[5] Quoted in Young, p107
[6] Bible references will be from the New International Version, unless otherwise stated.
[7] Quoted in Astley et al, p97
[8] P.J. Hefner quoted in Astley, p112
[9] Quoted in Astley et al p92
[10] Quoted in Southgate et al, chapter 2, p10
[11] Ibid, p2
[12] Quoted in Young, p109
[13]Ibid, p88
[14] Per Lonning, quoted in Astley et al, p95
[15] Quoted in Astley et al p95
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid
[18] Ibid, p91
[19] Brunner, p337
[20] Quoted in Astley et al, p92
[21] Astley, p17
[22] Adapted from Astley, p17
[23] The Doctrine Commission of the General Synod of the Church of England, We Believe in the Holy Spirit, 1991, quoted in Astley et al, p34
[24] Ibid., p112
[25] Bauckham, p183
[26] Southgate et al, Chapter 2, p7
[27] Ibid, p8
+ The belief that all mankind will eventually be saved. Espoused by Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 175-185 CE) and, in modern times, the theologian John Hick.

© Alan Bowden, 2006

Aaaaaaaaah

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaall done hoorah! I had definitely forgotten how nasty exams are after a year out. I now have three weeks of NOTHING AT ALL in Durham, just lounging about with my girlfriend, watching the cricket, the world cup, sauntering down to the bar, reading, resting....lovely. In fact I think I'll start right....now

Aaaaaaargh

It's 3.45am and I'm starting to get the feeling that I may have understimated the amount of revision I had to do for the exam which starts in, oh, 5 hours and 45 minutes. Bother....only one more philosopher to go....then sleep...or I may just bash through and rest after 2 hours of Philosophy exam. Oh well, back to Soren Kierkegaard...

Exams.........

Well, I've had two exams so far and, I hesitate slightly to say, so far so good. The first one wasn't amazing, but then I only need a pass; and the second one was, I think/hope, quite good. It's largely philosophy exams from hereon in which means two hours instead of three, shorter essays, but, it must be said, alot more chance of going off on irrelevant tangents.....oh well, back to Ethics & Values revision, just four more exams to go.

Vacillation

An experiment in writing:

He held the knife, tip quivering, over his upturned palm. The temptation, yet at the same time horror, was overwhelming. He was left in tortuous limbo. Fascination and something like pain filled his stomach. No, not pain exactly. More, a vacuum, yes, an emptiness in the pit of his stomach which had little to do with hunger. A yearning? Perhaps that would be a better word. Not that any of this occurred to him at the time, for his entire being was focussed on the juxtaposition of blade and flesh. So close, yet so far. So close…but he knew he would never have the courage to do it; and it was this knowledge that brought the painless, discomfiting, desire for an instant of action. To bring his right hand down; to turn his hand against himself, against its very mirror image. Truly there he would find self-negation, there to truly realise his being: An internal consummation in coming full circle on the path of identity. In piercing himself he would find out his true being, his true ‘I’.
Yet he does not, cannot, will not, and knows he never will. He continues, imprisoned in himself, for evermore, as the knife drops from his shaking hand.

© Alan Bowden, 2006

I'll be back....

Wow, it's been a while since I posted here...around two months in fact. I've been very busy recently. In fact, I'm still run off my feet with exam revision (I now officially hate anything to do with New Testament criticism...) so I can't guarantee when the next post will be. It will probably around 1st June as my last exam is on 31st May.
On the plus side, I've got permission to switch my degree from Joint Honours Philosophy & Theology to Combined Honours in Philosophy, Theology, and History of Art. It may not seem the same but the modules will be almost completely different. Hopefully: Philosophy of Mind, 'Theory, literature, and society', Philosophy of Religion, Metaphysics OR Aesthetics, Science and Theology, Introduction to Modern Art.
Right, back to revision before yet more lectures...why are they trying to teach NEW stuff less than a week before exams? Madness....
I'll be back.

Bah

I'm battling with a New Testament essay at the moment: "Compare and contrast the picture presented of Herod Agrippa I in Acts 12'1-4 with Josephus' description of his character in Jewish Antiquities, Book XIX" It's coming along but for this and various other reasons I STILL haven't been able to post the stuff I wanted....soon, soon

Laissez-faire Posting

Posts have been thin on the ground over the last week, much to the chagrin of all I'm sure. I'm going to try to write something on Functionalism and the Loss of Qualia in the next couple of days as well as a couple of reviews of plays I've seen here in Durham (or am about to see): Rosencrantz and Guildernstern are Dead, The Dreaming, and maybe something on the Durham University Charities Kommittee Comedy Fest (it's meant to be a 'K'....I can spell).
Right, time to go shopping....I have no food....

Fives...the report.

Well, that's another tournament over. I was unfortunate to draw a top ten player in the first round. And that was pretty much the end of that. I was lucky to get a few points off him, although I didn't really play my best. Never mind, there is always next year, and the year after that, and the year after that......

Fives...

This weekend I'm competing in the North of England Open Rugby Fives Tournament (hosted this year by my university so I don't have to go anywhere, hooray) which promises to be an exhausting yet enjoyable couple of days. Of course, it could probably be better spent writing a summative essay on Ethics & Values. If I actually get anywhere in the competition I'll stick it up on here....don't hold your breath....

Quantum computer solves problem, without running...

Well, this is bizarre in the extreme. Quantum mechanics/theory never ceases to amaze.
"I think I can safely say that no one understands quantum mechanics." Richard Feynmann
Never has this appeared more appropriate a comment. For a computation to provide an answer prior to/without actually taking place seems to be counter-intuitive in the extreme. However, our intuitions are bred out of experience of the macroscopic, classical, world of cause and effect. Interactions and 'events' (if we may call them such) at a quantum level are something else entirely. Quantum theory deals in probabilities rather than 'definite' predictions or observations for, in a sense, anything and everything can and does happen in this world. Furthermore, as a result of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle (or, rather, as the principle describes) one can never know both the position and the momentum of a particle at any one time. Thus, there is a 'fuzziness' inherent within quantum theory. It is this fuzziness of state, alongside the very much related concept of wave-particle duality (and here), which makes the above computation possible. I don't propose to explore the mechanics of the process further (because I'm a layman...and can't), rather I intend to explore some of the initial philosophical implications as they occur to me.
Clearly the possibility of obtaining a solution without running a program has ramifications. Most obviously concerning the nature of truth. A full discussion would leave me without enough time to actually do a degree. I will therefore give a brief treatment:
Observation & Truth
What do we consider 'truth' to be? If, for the sake of this discussion, we define truth as the accurate reflection of a state-of-affairs, I.e. as the 'fact of the matter', we can continue in a discussion of physical verisimilitude. (I am aware that this is not a wholly satisfactory definition of truth, by any means. However, for our purposes, (a discussion of implications) it will serve).
In what way has a state-of-affairs been established in this event? Can we truly say that a photonic non-investigation of probabilistic phase space has established anything? Well, the question is more concerned with whether our concepts of truth, derived from observation, can truly be applied to the microscopic and thus whether anything meaningful can come from such quantum interactions. Scientific minds are unsure as to the meaning of our models of the quantum world as it is. Can we, from such models, derive a truth the foundation of which we are at a loss to understand? 'Quantum conjecture' might be a better answer than 'solution'. I am not disputing in any way the value of such work or the inference-based techniques utilised. What I am asking is whether we should rethink our model of meaning, fact, in the light of it.
If one can obtain a solution by inference from a theoretical non-event as a result of quantum superposition does one then accept a model of truth derived from probabilities, phase-space, rather than concrete value. Do we lose absolute truth on such a model? I don't propose to answer this, I'm still thinking it through myself. What I do propose is that it is a live issue. Truth as 'the way of things' does not seem to cover what we have here.

Right, now I'm going to bed...

© Alan Bowden, 2005

Are there Forms?

The following is a philosophy essay I reeled off in the 30 minutes before deadline....I know, that's distinctly poor time-management. As a result it is essentially a map of an evolving thought in my mind rather than a structured essay. Hopefully it is of interest to someone:

What then are Plato’s Forms (Eidos)? This is far from being an easy question. The Forms are the constituents of a ‘higher’ realm, an unchanging and eternal world of intelligible ‘definitions’ of which our world of ‘Becoming’ is a pale, material, and crude reflection. Objects in this world ‘participate’ in the Forms and it is by virtue of this relation that we come to recognise them as ‘horse’ or ‘man’ etc
Forms exist, not as higher concepts outside of our immediate world, but as common concepts within this world of becoming, of flux. The concept of a separate world populated by immutable objects of cognition is incoherent and superfluous.
In using the same predicate for different things, we do not see in objects some higher thing of which they are only pale reflections; what is actually happening is that an object, for example a chair, is being ascribed to a certain linguistic or conceptual class within the mind of the observer, independent of the chair and derivative of the learning process of the brain from childhood. An object may be called a ‘chair’ if it resembles that which has come to be known as a chair, not through some recollection of perfection, but by virtue of the very fact of the knowledge of the diversity of experience of objects. Labels in themselves are imperfection, not reflections of perfection in which objects participate; for they reflect the inability of man to experience without the classification and requirement of reference to prior understanding or conception. The metaphysics of Plato’s Forms is an attempt to make intelligible the mode of understanding, something which differs in every person.
The true Forms, if that is what we should call them+, are therefore linguistic. In a way similar to the language games of the later Wittgenstein similar predication does not imply commonality in that which is referred to in anything other than accidental qualities, which are then crudely formed into classes by the brain. We call things by the same name simply because they are similar enough for convenient pigeonholing, not because they are instantiations or some higher Form. Nothing is truly similar, except in interpretation, and this itself differs within and between languages.
For example, we take three sentences in three languages:
a) The book is red b) Le livre est rouge, and c) Das Buch ist rot.
Plato’s conception here would be that all three sentences are referring to objects which participate in the Form ‘Book’ and ‘Red’; they in some way, however crudely, are reflecting the eternal and immutable perfection in the higher realm. However, on closer inspection this is problematic.
Firstly, and this may seems a strange question, what is the language of the Forms?
Is it the Form of the Book, or the Die Form des Buches? This highlights a problem for Plato. How are we to understand language in his metaphysical framework? Is there a Form of Language, or a Form of French, English, German, Chinese? Or perhaps there is no Form conforming to language at all; perhaps language is simple the referential system by which the world of becoming is understood, necessary but undesirable compared to the perfection of apprehension of the transcendent Forms. Does language in fact inhibit ascension to the Forms for Plato? This is a good question, for language can be construed as very much a product or association of the body, of the physical rather than the mental, and as such a problem for the philosopher wanting to purify him or herself in order to reach the forms. The crux of the matter is this: is man capable of conception outside of language? That is to say, is all we are capable of thinking that which can be framed in language? If the answer is no, then language must be part of the conception of Forms; if yes, then it is likely that it is this non-linguistic reflection of which Plato would think most highly. I would argue that conception outside of language for modern man is inconceivable. One may detect a certain circularity in that sentence, as well as objecting that emotions are very often non-linguistic, more feelings than concepts. That is to say, one may argue that to speak of conception (not, I emphasise, perception), of the framing of concepts, in the terms of that in which we do the framing is unhelpful. This is, however, the very point we are making. That is all we can do with language, we cannot escape it. To think requires a language of thought. We are talking here in ‘conception’ of labeling, taxonomy. That is what the Theory of Forms is really about; it is a metaphysics of the classification of knowledge with a glaring hole when it comes to the framework of reference: language.
Secondly, and related to our first point, in some languages there are different taxonomies.
In French for example, the GCSE student will (or should) know that there can be not just a livre, but a cahier as well. Here we see differing predicates. Does this mean, then, that there are two forms; one of Cahier and one of Livre, or do we simply have Book of which the two French nouns are simply distortions?
Thirdly, what is it that that the book has in common with the Form of the Book. Surely, in this case, it is necessary to posit a third book in which both the instantiation in this world and, necessarily, the instantiation of the Form of the book, participate. In other words, we find a regression in participation.
This is the Third Man argument, recounted in Aristotle’s Metaphysics (Melling) as well as by Plato himself in Parmenides.
Quite simply, Forms are superfluous; if we apply Occam’s Razor (do not multiply entities unnecessarily) then we can see that the positing of another world of Forms is philosophically untenable for there is less than sufficient reason to do so. If we focus on the language and framework of conception and knowledge then we see that Plato’s confusion of knowledge of something and the object of knowledge (in other words, knowing that something versus the existence of an object of knowledge) is really a confusion about general classes in societal communication; a product of evolution.

Thus are Forms not self-existent in the Platonic sense, nor the population of some metaphysical ‘realm’; rather they are the linguistic classes of different people at different times in different places. Richard Dawkins spoke of memes and indeed they are still much spoken of today, as the all-pervasive concepts of our lives and cultures; as, one might say, the Forms of modern man and his cognition, not just of chairs, tables and colours, but of more abstract and abstruse things such as ‘art’, ‘mind’ and behaviour. Are these the forms by which we truly exist, reflecting not some higher world, but the world in which we are truly grounded and in which our existence truly becomes?

+ It is something I am very dubious of, for the capitalisation alone seems to imply some independent existence, an entity, rather than a commonality of conception and language use.

References
Melling, David, Understanding Plato, Oxford University Press, New York, 1987
Solomon, Robert, Introducing Philosophy, Oxford University Press, New York, 2005

© Alan Bowden, 2005

The Samarra al-Askari Shrine

The bomb attack on the Shia Shrine on Wednesday morning has resulted in a pouring out of anger across Iraq. More than 100 have been killed (BBC News) in attacks on Sunni mosques, residences and citizens; including a prominent reporter who had gone to cover the attack this morning. The spectre of full-blown civil war now looms large in the country, with Iraqi politicians in crisis talks.
So, why should such an attack cause such anger, and why should it occur at all?
A mosque or a shrine is not simply a building. For many, it is the embodiment of a group identity, of a way of life, of belief. To attack such an embodiment is to attack the group. The al-Askari shrine is one such place, sacred to Shia Islam as the burial place of Imam al-Askari over one thousand years ago. The bombers knew this all too well. This bombing has caused greater loss of life, more protest, than any direct attack on an individual or group of individuals in the past. Extremism in Iraq is pushing for a welling up of fury, hate, and murder; and it is succeeding. One only has to look at the events of the past two days to see that. If events continue to spiral this may very well turn out to be the breaking of the Iraqi Government. Sunni politicians have already suspended coalition talks in protest at reprisals against their mosques and people. Dialogue is essential at times such as these. Shia and Sunni must work together to hold Iraq where it is now. Only then can the country move forward. Yet with extremists knowing all the right buttons to push, all the right targets to attack, it will take a monumental effort of co-operation to thwart the cause of the insurgency. An effort I'm not entirely sure they are, at this time and in this situation, capable of.
A stable future seems far off indeed.

De Rerum Studentura

As an insight into student (well, my student) life I'll tell you that I've only just got up. At 3 o'clock in the afternoon, after having been awake for approximately twenty-seven hours.
I have my reasons.....

Wordcloud

This is a wordcloud of the blog: fits rather well I can't help thinking.

And the follow up...

The philosophy of kissing Again, for the geeks amongst us.

The theology of Kissing

A nice theological in-joke For the geeks.

Why we do philosophy...

How and why do we live our lives? In what way do we relate to those around us, the world we live in, the cosmos of which we are part? Do we believe in a 'God', 'Truth', 'science', ourselves, or perhaps nirvana? The context in which we make decisions, the basis of our beliefs about that context and so on. All this is what one might call philosophy.
Since prehistory man has considered his place in the world. For many thousands of years, until the advent of the Copernican heliocentric solar system, humanity believed itself to be at the centre of the universe. More often than not, this anthropocentrism was based upon religious writings of one sort or another, Genesis, perhaps, or the Koran. Both as individuals and as 'humanity', we think of everything as it relates to us, at the centre of our 'bubble'. Modern cosmology, however, has changed this picture more than anyone can have imagined. The universe is expanding. Even better, it is expanding at an ever-increasing rate. Oh, and another thing: It's bloody massive, immense beyond all the powers of conception of our tiny imaginations. Cosmic scales put anthropocentrism to shame. We are not, when it comes down to it, very important. Earth orbits an average star, in a pretty average galaxy, which is only one of billions in the known universe. So, now that I've thoroughly depressed everyone, we can move to building our self-esteem back up.
You can think, cogitate, meditate, rationalise, plan, reflect, argue and more. No species but us (that we know of) can do these things, not to the incredible extent that you can. And with this incredible ability comes philosophy. Not just philosophy, but every other endevour in human history. Yet I would argue that these are subsets, results, of the core pursuit of human thought. 'Obvious!' you might say. But this core pursuit is philosophy. Everything we do is based upon our beliefs: about our relations to other 'individuals', to ethics, values, the environment, government, religion, science, and truth. Philosophy as a discipline is concerned with sorting out all this crap that we carry around and trying to say something meaningful about it. Not only this, but this discipline tries to suggest ways in which we might live better lives, based, perhaps, upon some principle, some measure of truth, justice, interpersonal relations, mind, consciousness, value or whatnot. We all operate on such principles, most of the time unconsciously. Thus are we all philosophers, even if we don't know it. The man deciding whether or not to give up smoking is truly reflecting on the relative values of life and pleasure; the woman learning a language is discovering a new mode of perception and expression; the boy who drops rubbish is expressing an attitude towards the environment; and the scientist in the laboratory is endeavouring to discover, to move closer to, the nature or reality. They are all philosophers.
With no dusty books in sight.

© Alan Bowden 2006

Peace

My mother and I wrote this a few years ago for a commemoration service. It seems especially relevant at times such as these, when Muhammad cartoon protests are spiralling and we hear of new suicide attacks in Iraq every day. I am not personally a Christian any more, but the sentiment remains:

Lord, with the media focusing on the many conflicts overseas please help us not to forget the needs of our own country here at home. Bring understanding and acceptance where there is prejudice and hatred; and grant us a vision of our land as your love would make it.

We pray for our government and its leaders, that you would give them wisdom and compassion in all their decisions. We pray for everyone who takes decisions that affect the lives of others: for judges, doctors, teachers, social workers and civil servants. We ask for them, for ourselves and for all your people that you would help each one of us to understand the needs of others and try to do what is right for those around us so that together we may build a land where justice reigns, where the weak are protected, and where there is no more hunger or poverty:
a land where the benefits of civilised life are shared, for all to enjoy;
a land where different races and cultures live in tolerance and mutual respect:
A land where peace is built with justice, and justice is guided by love.

Please give us the inspiration and courage to work for this land and for your kingdom, for the sake of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

Amen.

© Alan Bowden and Mary Bowden, 2006

Introductions

First things first. I make no guarantees whatsoever as to the content of this little blog...All issues, be they topical, philosophical, personal, theological, sporting, and even boring are fair game.
To save you the trouble of reading my profile (and, indeed, because I haven't worked out quite how to fill it in yet...) I'll give a quick rundown of who I am etc:

• Alan Bowden
• Philosophy & Theology student at the University of Durham, England.
• 19 (birthday 12th May '86. Feel free to send me a present.)
• Born and raised in South East London. No, I am not a cockney.
• Interests: Philosophy, theology, literature, history, politics, music (jazz, classical, rock, rap, hip-hop etc. Everything), sport (mainly Fives...no you won't have heard of it: http://www.rfa.org.uk), drama, singing. Anything I can give a go once.