On ‘Human Nature’ Wednesday, Jan 30 2008 

More often than I’d like to recall I’ve heard people use the expression “that’s just human nature”. Usually this is taken as justifying or sanctioning prevailing capitalist and conservative states of affairs: ‘communism can’t work, it’s against human nature’; ‘there will always be leaders and followers, that’s just human nature’; ‘people are inherently selfish, that’s just human nature’.

“That’s just human nature” is presented as both something uncontroversial, as well as something which seals an issue off from further debate.

I really hate this expression, and I could go on about why for days. For now, just a few remarks. Firstly, even if it is true that there is such a thing as ‘human nature’ and that we have the capability to know what, exactly, it is and how, exactly, it plays out – which i suspect is extremely unlikely – it would not follow that prevailing states of affairs are thereby justified. As far as I am aware, it is just part of duck nature for mallards to gang rape female ducks – does that mean I should take no precautions to ensure the protection of my pet duck in the mating season? Of course not; and so even if human nature is inherently wicked, or something to that effect, it doesn’t follow that we should continue to countenance vicious states of affairs that thereby arise.

Secondly, and as just alluded to, the idea that there is such a thing as ‘human nature’ which is immutable and unchangeable, not to mention easily discoverable, is ridiculous. For the claim that there is such a thing as human nature, and that we know what it is, to be true, we’d have to have a case of a human being not inculcated by any social norms – that is, having existed in complete isolation from day one – and then observe them acting and behaving according to some fundamental laws or patterns that conform to ‘human nature’. Of course this is ludicrous – not least because those who have been unfortunate to grow up isolated are severely impaired in all sort of life-debilitating ways, as well as the fact that different people’s from different societies in different times have apparently behaved in very different way indeed. That there is such a thing as ‘human nature’ which exists prior to and independent of western capitalist social inculcation is simply a (usually quite convenient) assertion resting on no argument.

Thirdly and finally, talk of ‘human nature’ is, surely, utterly offensive to women. To say that human beings (usually just ‘men’) are a certain way, and that is that, is to say that the conceptions people have about themselves and how they must behave, as well as who they must be, rest not upon contingent social circumstances but upon deep-rooted dispositional characteristics which are beyond the influence of, and therefore beyond the possibility of change for, the individual agent who possess them. Given that we live in a society that teaches women from day one to think, talk and act in ways which perpetuate and have perpetuated an overwhelmingly male social, political and economic hegemony, talk of ‘human nature’ as though it were an uncontroversial fact that closes of all further argument is deeply offensive, as well as unverifiable, and almost certainly untrue.

So don’t use that expression, unless your express aim is to be inaccurate, to mislead, and to offend.

English Psychologists Wednesday, Jan 30 2008 

Oh, English Psychologists. You cold, wet, boring frogs in your cold, wet and boring swamp – what claims have you to truth? For whose truth is it, and where did it come from? And your truth, if that what it be, would it extend beyond your swamp? Or would the swamp be as far as you extend? Might not others speak of things of which you have no words…might not others speak of – schadenfreude?

Attention White People! Tuesday, Jan 29 2008 

masterrace2.jpg

How could you not?

Prison? Monday, Jan 28 2008 

The story about Jerome Kerviel, the man being held responsible for the collapse of Societe Generale, has got me thinking about prison.

What, exactly, is the point of putting this bloke in prison (which seems pretty much inevitable)? For a start, I’m not exactly crying with sympathy regarding the plight of Societe Generale. The only way I would give a flying toss is when the losses are past on to innocent customers.

Now I understand that from the view of long-term policy-makers, we can’t countenance a society in which individuals engage in fraud and so forth. Even if that means protecting bastard organisations like Tesco, or enormous transnational banks like Societe Generale. But I don’t see from that why prison is in any way shape or form an appropriate way of dealing with people like Kerviel. After all, he’s not violent, he’s not a physcial threat to the general public, and any damage he’s done has been done. Putting him in prison costs hundreds of thousands, puts him into contact with hardened criminals, and seems completely unnecessary.

Surely a better solution would be to ban him from ever working in the financial sectors, whilst imposing upon him a sentence whereby he must fulfill, say, 20-30 hours of unpaid community or social work (cleaning pavements, picking up dog shit, etc) a week, for a specified number of years. This way he does something useful, doesn’t cost the taxpayer money, and has a genuine chance of coming out the other end a better person.

Of course this isn’t a solution for murderers and rapists – but Kerviel is neither of these, and is not violent in general. Putting him in prison just seems like madness. Oh, and if anyone replies that prison works because it is an effective deterrent, pull the other one, and then consider this: people who commit crimes don’t think they’ll get caught, otherwise they wouldn’t commit the crimes. If they don’t think they’ll get caught, they don’t care what happens to those who do. Q.E.D.

Quote of the Day #16 Monday, Jan 28 2008 

“People say, ‘It is a terrible thing that Germany is not working’. But i say ‘Really? When Germany is working, six months later it is usually marching down the Champs Elysees’ “

Gerard Baker, a French offical writing in the Finanical Times, 2002

When other people say it better than yourself Sunday, Jan 27 2008 

The other week I put a post up about music, and how I find it incredible that people I’ve never met, who could now be dead, can write words that capture exactly how I feel, better than I could ever have said it myself. The following lyrics feel like they were written by somebody who’s been looking inside my head for the past 6 months

I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs,

Stop and wait a sec,
Oh when you look at me like that my darling,
What did you expect?
I probably still adore you with you hand around my neck,
Or I did last time I checked,

Not shy of a spark,
A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,
Frightened by the bite though its no harsher than the bark,
Middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start,

I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs,

But I crumble completely when you cry,
It seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye,
Im always just about to go and spoil a suprise,
Take my hands off of your eyes, 
Too soon,

I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs and a smile.

Ha ha shut up Quentin Skinner Saturday, Jan 26 2008 

In Visions of Politics Volume 1 Quentin Skinner suggests that Locke may never have actually read Hobbes: he may simply be responding to his immediate contemporaries who held (co-incidentally) Hobbesian views. I cannot be arsed to get up and walk the two meters to my book shelf to get the reference, but this proposal has always seemed absurd to me, not least because it takes away all the force of passages such as my favourite about Polecats, Foxes and being Devoured by Lyons. But this to me seems conclusive against Skinner:

“But if an Hobbist be asked why [he keeps compacts]; he will answer: Because the Publick requires it, and the Leviathan will punish you if you do not”.

That’s from Book I of the Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Now of course it is possible that Locke is solely referring to contemporary “Hobbists”. But how likely is that? Not very, because it would require that Locke is replying to Hobbists without bothering to read what Hobbes said. And that would make him something of an under-read twerp, and I’ll not have people saying that about Locke. What is more likely is that Skinner didn’t bother to read the Essay, or to read it carefully, due to the daft approach of the Cambridge School he built around himself, and their insistance that the meaning of a political text can be adduced solely from reading it and considering the contemporary circumstances, refusing to countenance inter-generational dialogue between thinkers.

What a twit. 

Top Ten Political Tracts Saturday, Jan 26 2008 

A daft way to waste time when I should be revising. Here’s my Top Ten Political Tracts. They’re in rank order, so this was hard to do.

1. Locke – Second Treatise on Government

2. Mill - On Liberty

3. Hobbes – Leviathan

4. Tocqueville – Democracy in America

5. Weber – Politics as a Vocation and Bureaucracy

6. Rousseau – The Social Contract

7. Plato - The Republic

8. Rawls – A Theory of Justice

9. Waldron – Liberal Rights

10. Hume – Book III of the Treatise of Human Nature

 Some explanations regarding this stupid list.

Locke comes top because the Second Treatise is simply sublime. The intellectual content may not be what I most closely identify with and support, but as a piece of political literature it is unsurpassed.

Mill comes second because On Liberty has influenced me more than anything else ever written.

Weber gets on the list with a double-entry because he never wrote one single extended political tract, but to omit his thought from the list would be criminal.

The Republic is included, even though I find it nauseating to read: all those bloody sycophants sucking up to Socrates. Thrasymachus is the only character I wouldn’t shoot.

The final Book of Hume’s Treatise is, as far as I’m concerned, a political tract, and get’s on the list for the added bonus of including Book III, Section I Parts I-II.

Waldron gets on it, because even though Liberal Rights isn’t a ‘tract’ like all the others, its a collection of papers demonstrating how beautifully and coherently a modern liberal can argue for what he believes, and why the rest of us should agree with him.

The biggest omission is surely Marx. Why have I left him off? My own ignorance, alas, is the answer. I simply haven’t read enough, or been sufficiently grabbed by any that I have read.

 OK I’m going to stop wasting time now. Of course, if you feel like distracting me, why not produce your own list in the comments section…

On Harmony in Plato’s Republic Friday, Jan 25 2008 

Yesterday I went to a lecture for the first time since Michaelmas Term of Second Year – and I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was really good. The subject was Plato’s political thought, for the Political Thought: Plato to Rousseau politics paper. In fact it was so good, it got me thinking, because Elizabeth Frazer’s (the lecturer) interpretation of Plato seemed to me wrong. So I wrote decided to write down what I think. Enjoy.

 Plato’s Republic: A Vision of Harmony? 

It is important to make clear at the outset the thesis I propose vis-à-vis that which I reject. This is best achieved by stating that I take Plato’s vision of an ideal polis as positing harmony to be both essential and indispensable. Without harmony, the ideal polis would not – could not – be ideal. This must be carefully delineated from a different thesis: that the outcome of Plato’s vision, if it were to be put into practice, would be a polis rooted in and defined by tension, as opposed to harmony. I follow Bernard Williams in thinking that the latter thesis is true – yet I wish simultaneously to advocate the truth of former. The thesis I reject, therefore, is that Plato’s vision is of an ideal polis built upon tension.

To establish the above I wish to contest five readings of passages from The Republic employed in today’s lecture. In doing this I attempt to establish the claim that Plato’s vision was of harmony, not of tension. I will conclude by offering considerations regarding the analogy of the cave, which appears to cause trouble for my reading.

Firstly, the ‘Noble Lie’. It is not clear that the Guardians themselves – at least, from the second generation onwards – are aware that they are perpetuating a lie. Plato leaves it ambiguous as to whether any but the founders of the city must know the truth. It is worth noting Plato’s particularly shocking stipulation that to found the ideal polis, all persons over the age of 10 will be (rather ominously) ‘taken away’. The ideal polis starts with as blank a slate as possible. Why does this matter? If all citizens, regardless of which class they belong to, believe that the social-economic status they find themselves confined to is not only just, but given by divine command – and further, that if violated will lead to the dissolution of the polis – they are far more likely to accept their social roles without question. If one class must constantly lie to the others, and consequently be on their guard against the possibility of rebellion, this certainly looks like a recipe for tension. Yet if Plato is attempting to construct an ideal polis, the first option looks far more desirable – and that is the option of harmony, not tension. This would explain the possibility of Guardians themselves not knowing that they are perpetuating a lie.

Secondly, the claim that the Guardian class must constantly (through the use of a Noble Lie?) justify to the lower class(es) their “relative poverty”. I strenuously contest this claim. Firstly, it seems to me textually unsupported, albeit indirectly. For Glaucon and Plato discuss the problem of the Guardians receiving rather a rough deal. They live in a property-less commune, and spend their whole lives working for the other classes; they do not even want to engage in politics, for this is a nasty business and they would rather spend their time philosophising. But as was pointed out in the lecture, Plato is icily clear that the Guardians do not live for their own comfort, but for that of the polis as a whole. The question then becomes “poverty relative to who?” I see no textual evidence that the Auxiliaries and the Producers will suffer significant material discrepancies relative to each other – if anything it would seem a reasonable inference that as the Guardian class grows out of the Auxiliary, the life of Auxiliaries – soldiers – will more closely resemble the material situation of the Guardians. It therefore looks as though the Producers are the most materially well-off class in the polis. This seems strengthened by the straightforward inference that a polis with the best system of government will be that which prospers the most, and in which the citizens are most well-off. Further, it is worth recalling Plato’s ascetism towards material well-being. Not only do the Guardians shun property and wealth, but a key tenet of The Republic is that material wealth is fleeting and of little ultimate value. The character of Polemarchus is a case in point: here is a man who’s immigrant father, Cephalus, has done well and will bequeath Polemarchus with great wealth. Neither men are particularly concerned with philosophical questions of justice. More fool them: as any contemporary Athenian would know, the Thirty would strip Polemarchus of his wealth and execute him. Material wealth can always be taken away, justice in the soul is forever; hence the Just Man is 729 times happier than the unjust. This implies that Plato is quite deliberately leaving material wealth to the Producers. They’re unphilosophical nature will be quite content with the trappings of materialism; and if they are content, they will carry out their functions willingly. This implies harmony, not tension.

I take completely the point made after the lecture that there is no evidence that Plato is in anyway egalitarian. With this I agree: he does not see all men as equal at all – the Guardians are intrinsically more fulfilled, more highly flourishing human beings than the Producers. But this inequality of soul does not translate into material inequality in the sense of material scarcity for the productive classes. If anything, the opposite: let the lower humans indulge in the futile trappings of material pleasure while the more complete men benefit from the ascetism of material rejection. But this material set-up will make the Producers far less likely to reject the wisdom of the Guardians: harmony not tension, is again the vision.

Thirdly, a remark on the fact that the Philosopher-Guardians’ commune-camp will exist outside the city walls. While I do not deny that there is almost certainly metaphorical import in this stipulation, it is worth remembering a practical consideration. Although Plato suggests starting anew by expelling everyone over the age of 10, he never proposes that an ideal polis must necessarily built physically from scratch. For sure, geography will determine a polis’ capabilities, but if a good existing site can be found (Athens surely being a prime contender) then there is no need to start (physically) anew. Yet if the Guardians are to live in property-less commune, they will have to live in camps outside of the city, simply due to physical requirement. Aside from that, I am suspicious as regards the significance of the removed status of the camp. For Plato justice in the city is like that in the soul. In the soul, the rational part is separate from the desiring and wishing parts, and so it makes sense in the city to separate them physically. It doesn’t follow from this that tension is inevitable; that the removed Guardians will travel into the polis to impose their judgement upon the other classes (but especially the desiring Producers); it could just be that separate parts function most harmoniously (and perhaps even at all) only when separated out.

Fourthly, a quick aside regarding the analogy of The Ship. As I mentioned, the expertise used to guide a ship safely is phronesis not nous, so there is a significant (and I think problematic) disanalogy between Platonic statesmanship and ship-sailing. For our purposes however, what is important to note is that a ship is far easier to sail if the old senile captain (i.e. the polity) wants to follow the advice of the expert navigator. Harmony between navigator and captain will be far more desirable that tension, especially during storms. Further, note that those who cause tension on the ship are the sophists and politicians, those seeking to usurp power whilst lacking expertise. As these people are expelled from the ideal polis, we need not worry about any tension they may bring to bear.

Fifthly, and I think most importantly, Plato explicitly states that justice – be it in the soul or in the city – arises when all parts fulfil their functions willingly. This to me sounds like a paradigm statement that the ideal polis is based on an essential harmony. For the Producers must willingly fulfil their functions, and they cannot be acting willingly if the only reason they fulfil their functions is because the Guardians force them to. This, of course, is where Williams makes trouble for Plato by showing that the harmony Plato envisages in the soul between reason, spirit and desire, when translated up to the level of the city, would certainly result in oppression of one class by another. But Williams’ point is also that Plato didn’t see this upshot, and that this was a (potentially fatal) failure on his behalf. If Williams is right – and I think that he is – this implies that Plato’s vision was one of harmony, even if the outcomes of his vision would in fact have been tension.

This reading is substantiated by recalling that Plato omits any discussion as to the detail of laws in The Republic. This makes sense if we posit harmony as his vision: a city (or a soul) functioning in harmony will not require (many) laws in order for it to function, so there will be no need for detailed discussion of what the laws should be. A city based on tension between classes, on the other hand, will find laws an indispensable tool for the maintenance of order.

Finally, and as promised, a consideration regarding the analogy of the Cave. The Cave is not like the Ship, because on the Ship the trouble-makers who breed tension are the politicians and sophists who would not be tolerated within the ideal polis. In the Cave, however, it is the ordinary people who laugh at and reject the philosopher-cum-adventurer, who has ventured out into the daylight brining back knowledge learned from the Form of the Good. As those chained in the cave, staring at the wall, could never comprehend the message of the philosopher, will it not be required that the philosopher coerce such (fundamentally and irreversibly) ignorant people? Will the Guardians’ task not be to force what is good upon the ignorant masses? Is tension not the inevitable state of affairs? The only way I can see of avoiding this conclusion – interestingly and I think highly importantly – is the use of the Noble Lie. For if the cave-dwellers can be inculcated into believing the Noble Lie, they will cease to resist the teachings of the Philosopher. They will want to be directed and led, they will no longer laugh, they will no longer resist. Their wills will be in accord with what the Guardians prescribe. What is this but harmony? Of course, Plato is out of the frying pan and into the fire: an account that posits one group’s being qualified to rule on account of access to metaphysical truth sits uneasily if it rests upon a foundational lie. But I am not here concerned to defend Plato’s vision, only to make the case as to what his vision is: harmony.

That Hume was not a causal realist. Friday, Jan 25 2008 

If David Hume was a realist about causation, then why on earth would he have written this:

“It is confessed, that the utmost effort of human reason, is to reduce the principles, productive of natural phenomena, to a greater simplicity, and to resolve the many particular effects into a few general causes, by means of reasonings from analogy, experience and observations. But as to the causes of these general causes, we should in vain attempt their discovery; nor shall we ever be able to satisfy ourselves, by any particular explication of them. These ultimate springs and principles are totally shut up from human curiosity and enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohesion of parts, communication of motion by impulse; these are probably the ultimate causes and principles which we shall ever discover in nature; and we may esteem ourselves sufficiently happy, if, by accurate enquiry and reasoning, we can trace up the particular phenomena to, or near to, these general principles. The most perfect philosophy of the natural kind only staves off our ignorance a little longer: As perhaps the most perfect philosophy of the moral or metaphysical kind serves only to discover larger portions of our ignorance. Thus the observation of human blindness and weakness is the result of all philosophy, and meets us, at every turn, in spite of our endeavours to elude or avoid it. “   

That’s from Chapter IV of the Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, and the emphasis is mine. Given that passage, tell me exactly how Hume can possibly be painted as a causal realist. Eh? EH!? TELL ME THAT GALEN STRAWSON!

 EDIT: And here is probably the best paragraph from the Enquiry, at least in my opinion:

“It is certain that the most ignorant and stupid peasants, nay infants, nay even brute beasts, improve by experience, and learn the qualities of natural objects, by observing the effects, which result from them. When a child has felt the sensation of pain from touching the flame of a candle, he will be careful not to put his hand near any candle; but will expect a similar effect from a cause, which is similar in its sensible qualities and appearance. If you assert, therefore, that the understanding of the child is led into this conclusion by any process of argument or ratiocination, I may justly require you to produce your argument; nor have you an pretence to refuse so equitable a demand. You cannot say, that the argument is abstruse, and may possibly escape your enquiry; since you confess, that it is obvious to the capacity of a mere infant. If you hesitate, therefore, a moment, or if, after reflection, you produce an intricate or profound argument you, in a manner, give up the question, and confess, that it is not reasoning which engages us to suppose the past resembling the future, and to expect similar effects from causes, which are, to appearance, similar. This is the proposition which I intended to enforce in the present section. If I be right, I pretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I must acknowledge myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; since I cannot now discover an argument, which, it seems, was perfectly familiar to me, long before I was out of my cradle.”

From which we learn two things: 1. that induction is not rationally justified, and 2. that David Hume, Greatest of the Great Dead Colleagues, didn’t know how to use a semi-colon.

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