95. Conditional imperatives

Conditional imperatives say what one should do to achieve a certain goal. ‘To have success in science one should publish’. By contrast, categorical imperatives are not oriented towards a goal, such as the good life (which I discussed in item 39 of this blog). They also neglect specific conditions of action that might modify or even escape from the imperative. They claim universal validity.

In item 17 I voiced my criticism of universal moral rules. Note that in my criticism of universals I did not reject them. We need universals for logical and empirical inference that we could not do without, not only in science, but in ordinary life. However, I made a plea to see universals as preliminary, as stepping stones to step away from in our cognition. We need them in abstraction, to step away in learning from specific conditions, but they should again be immersed and enriched in other conditions, and in the process they shift and change. In item 31 I developed this into a theory of invention.   

The classic case of the categorical imperative is, of course, the categorical imperative of the philosopher Kant. It has three forms. One is the old maxim (found also in the bible, and in Buddhism) that ‘One should not do to others what one does not want done to oneself ‘. I appreciate the intention of this, and accept it as a principle or heuristic to guide action, a motive, or in short a maxim, which leaves room for exceptions. I would not appreciate receiving a ticket for a soccer match but I would gladly give it to someone who likes soccer.

A second form of the categorical imperative is ‘To act only according to a maxim that I would also like to be a universal rule’. Again, I disagree. It is a good maxim not to lie, but under some conditions lying is humane and wise.

A third form is that ‘I should act such that I treat mankind, whether another or myself, as a goal, never only as a means’. Again, I fully endorse this as a maxim. In fact, it comes close to Emmanuel Levinas’ philosophy of the other, discussed in item 61, which inspires me in my proposal of otherhumanism, in item 65. But if a psychopath attacks my children I would not see or treat him either as a means or as a goal in himself. 

In sum, in my view moral imperatives are always conditional upon goals, in particular the good life, and conditions. The contingencies of life are too rich and unforeseeable to be caught in an unconditional imperative. 

94. From fear to faith

After a series on art I here start a series on a variety of subjects

In my discussion of God, in  item 13 of this blog, I did not mention the unique view of Kierkegaard. He took it for granted that God is ineffable and transcends all our categories of understanding. Belief in God is a leap, a miracle, a surrender beyond rationality, even in direct contradiction with it. 

In this, Kierkegaard resembles the mystical tradition that I discussed earlier, but he diverges from that in not looking for God inside but outside, in an act of will, in unconditional surrender and commitment, based on subjective but non-rational certainty. Faith is the highest passion of subjectivity.

He likened the source of the urge, the passion for faith, with vertigo. Standing on the edge of an abyss one has a dizzy and unresistable urge to jump into the void, releasing one’s foothold in the world. He also likened the urge to fear of freedom, fear of the scope of human existence. This was picked up later by Sartre, with his notion of fear of the freedom of the self.

I dont’t know what to think of this. I find it very beautiful, and enticing, but at the same time totally unacceptable. The idea that faith is a matter of the will, not of reason, goes back to Kant and Hume. But how can one accept not just a non-rational stance that goes beyond rationality, but an antirational stance that goes against it? Where is the limit of such unfathomable anti-rationality? Is it not the opening of Pandora’s box? If one accepts radical subjective certainty, regardless of any argument or objectivity or inter-subjectivity, could one not accord that acceptance also to an atheist, or a racist, or a passionate fascist?

For Kierkegaard, and in contrast with platonism, it is not given to the human being to comtemplate eternal, universal, immutable truths. Ultimate truth is beyond it. Since ultimate truth cannot be possessed by the human being it can only be brought from outside. But a teacher who is able to not only bring the truth but to also make it understood cannot be a human being, can only be God. But to prevent that from being imposed by fear of God, rahter than adopted in freedom, God must appear to the human being in a human form, and that is the meaning of the incarnation in Christ.

Again, I find this perhaps the most enticing view of faith. However, in this blog I plead for acceptance of the unattainability of absolute truth, not seeking its attainment either in a platonic or in Kierkegaards fashion, both utterly illusory in my view, and to accept the perspective of imperfecton on the move (see item 19 in this blog) as a maxim that can yield a valuable, fruitful, constructive flourishing of life. 

Also, the radical subjectivism of Kierkegaard robs us of the only real chance we have to escape, however imperfectly and temporarily, from our myopia and prejudice, in dialogue with the other human being who engages in opposition to us.   

93. A new culture?

This is the last item of a long series on art, and here I permit myself a somewhat longer text than usual.

I am inclined to deplore how present culture develops. Superficiality swamps depth. Hype shouts down reflection. Emotions brush away argument. Communication is fast and furious. Books get published only when connected with celebrities or idols or when plugged in TV shows. Social media celebrate the trivial. The serious is pushed over the edge into anonymity. Is something going badly wrong or am I prejudiced by an old, defunct cultural style?

In his book The barbarians (2006) Alessandro Baricco argues that what seems, and indeed in many respects is, barbarian, destroying to the core old cultural values, in a spreading collapse of established civilization, may not be only unstoppable but also valuable and legitimate.

The old intellectual ethic of in depth delving for ultimate truths, requiring lifelong dedication and scholarship, has buried itself in the deep. Such ultimate, lasting truths are an illusion. The effort involved is out of proportion to the limited yield of valuable insight and intellectual enjoyment. The discourse is only accessible to a narrowing circle of specialists, bickering among each other, vying for supremacy, while the world passes by. And it hasn’t exactly produced a humane and peaceful world. And digging too deep one may get lost in a void.

What is happening now is a democratization and socialization of mental activity. No longer just for an intellectual elite, and no longer a solitary affair. Surfing along the surface, racing along in hyperspace, people collect their own array of bits and pieces, thank you very much, which they enjoy and share with others, exchanging miscellaneous scraps, that veer off, echoing in endless networks, breeding and re-combining, and sometimes becoming viral. Contemplation is replaced by ravishing, taking a stand is replaced by rushing along, search for immovable truth by a run that no longer seems to have any specific aim to pursue. Movement has become an aim in itself.

What strikes me now is that this seems to connect, on several points, with what I have been saying in this blog. The rejection of absolute ideas, about truth, morality and beauty, is part of my Imperfection on the move. The shifts of ideas and meanings are part of the pragmatism that I preach and practice. The rejection of ideas and of personal identity as autonomous and isolated is closely related to the socialization of the self that I argued for in my otherhumanism, relinquishing the Enlightenment ideal of a rational, autonomous self, accepting that the self needs the other to become and develop itself. The combination and re-combination of diverse views, extraction from old contexts and immersion into novel contexts is what I discussed and recommended in my cycle of invention.  

So, how can I reconcile my revulsion concerning present culture with the fact that my own ideas seem to accord, at least in part, with Baricco’s claim? Perhaps I should re-examine my self-righteous tenacity in holding on to traditional cultural values of intellectualism, depth, erudition, and serious, systematic examination. That hurts.

Yet, still I cannot shrug off the intuition that something is deeply wrong. But then, instead of foolishly trying to stop the swell of present culture, could I not go along with it while feeding it with fruits that are still delved from the deep, but distilled, perhaps, into something just a little more intoxicating, and bringing that up to the surface, to be nipped by people racing along. Is that perhaps how this blog may work out, even if I did not intend it that way: offering bits from philosophy to be pieced together by readers as they see fit, as they rush by?   

92. Free will and literature

As discussed in item 5 of this blog, on free will, we have no free will in the sense that much of our conduct is triggered and executed by unconscious impulses and processes. That could hardly not be the case. Just think of having to consciously activate and coordinate muscles, breathing, the beating heart, and pumping adrenalin into your bloodstream when danger looms.

We employ routines for automatic, unreflected action, as when we drive a car. Such action is needed to make room for conscious thought on other matters. Next, emotions are needed to draw attention to urgent conditions and to catapult us out of our routines. A car careening towards you shocks you into action, but that also is routinized, in hitting the brakes. Conscious deliberation would be too slow.

However, we do have influence on our conduct by conscious influence on unconscious impulse. Mentally we simulate the course and the possible repercussions of possible conduct, and thereby we can anticipate regret and punishment for bad conduct. That releases fear that impacts on unconscious motives for conduct. In mental simulation we tap from own experience and experience of others, discussions, books, films, etc.

For social legitimization of our conduct we give explanations of it, even though that is often rationalization after the fact. We don’t know our real motives well because they are largely unconscious, and when we do know them we may not want to disclose or even face them. Instead of a true account we fall back on a store of socially acceptable rationalizations.

For all this we need language. Language is full of unconscious concepts, associations, and metaphors, but in the formation of sentences and of causal or logical connections, as in the simulations and explanations of actions, language use is conscious. The serial coherence of concepts in sentences also serves to integrate distinct parts and functions of the brain, and contributes to the coherent mobilization of unconscious feelings and emotions that are relevant for the situation at hand.

Next to aesthetic value, then, literature, film, theatre, opera and ballet have an ethical, social-cultural function of exercising mental simulation and explanation of the conduct of others to the self, and of oneself to others. They increase the scope of mental and emotional sources by tapping into the experience of others in other contexts.

Literature etc. offer an exercise in empathy, putting oneself into the shoes of others, and in horizontal transcendence, transcendence not in God but in the other human being. They help to explore and practise socially desirable explanations of conduct, but also to see through their shallowness and hypocrisy, and to escape from prejudice and stereotypes.

In the earlier discussion of universals, in items 16 and 17, and meaning, in 36 and 37, I indicated that universals are provisional. In their application to specific contexts they must be expanded with contextual richness, and there they can become unstuck and dissolve, in the formation of a new universal, along the hermeneutic circle (36). That, I propose, is what literature does.

91. Stability and change, art and sex

At several places in this blog I have argued that the self does not have a fixed, given identity (item 8) but is constituted in action in the world (item 40), and that ideas guide action but are also changed in it (26), as they are confronted with new challenges and opportunities in new contexts (31). I also argued that art is a way of world making and upsets established meanings and perspectives (80). Here I elaborate on the relation between art and identification, the constitution of the self.

I will refer to Eastern philosophy because there the idea of an identity in flux arises more than in Western philosophy.

We are dealing here with the ancient theme of stability and change. The self orders perception, assimilating it into existing mental frames that serve as a source of stability, of identity. This identity separates the self from the world, as a subject contemplating objects in the world, objectively, or so it claims. This is the Cartesian self. It breeds the scientist. Here we find a duality of subject and object, of self and the world. It projects the self as master of the world. In Eastern philosophy (e.g. Buddhism) it is a male principle: of structure, power, impact, and penetration.

But identity is identity on the move. When assimilation fails, is allowed to fail, there is a jolt to the self, with experience breaking and entering, disordering the mind and putting identity out of joint. This loss of self can be unnerving, frightening, alienating. But it can also be exhilarating, ecstatic, in denying the duality of self and the world. That is what Buddhism tried to achieve. In Eastern philosophy it is a female principle. In being penetrated the male becomes female.

I do not accept the Buddhist claim that in such an instant one sees ‘reality as it really is’. For that I am still too much of a Western philosopher, a Kantian, a Humean, sceptical of our knowledge claims. Nor do I believe that such breakthroughs are achieved primarily in meditation, in opening up to the inside of the self. That mostly fosters delusion, I think.

I see the opening up of the self as brought about by action in the world, stumbling in it. We are shocked, moved, in e-motion, outward motion, to see the world differently from how we did. Art can achieve this. It is the Dionysian in art (item 81). But we do not suddenly see reality as it is in itself. It remains imperfection on the move (item 19). We are shifted into a different self, and then dualism resumes, is re-established. We cannot permanently merge with the world, and identity re-emerges. After art we return to routine, but perhaps a different one.

Thus spiritual life is a marriage between the two: between ordering and disordering, stability and change, dualism and unity, between male and female, between science and art, in orgasmic tension and release.