Writegenstein #2: Philosophy of Psychology 205 (Seeing-As)

How does one play the game: “It could also be this”?

[…] “I see (a) as (b)” might still mean very different things.

Here is a game played by children: they say of a chest, for example, that it is now a house; and thereupon it is interpreted as a house in every detail. A piece of fancy is woven around it.

— aphorism 205 of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s “Philosophy of Psychology” from Philosophical Investigations

It could be this and I see (a) as (b) point to different ways in which one could interpret a material object. That object alone has limited value, if any at all. In a sense, the material aspects of the object are arbitrary compared to the conceptualization of the object on the whole. What is conceptualized of it, i.e. how it is understood, depends on its place in its environment – what use it is to its environment. When children are playing house, they are playing a game. They see a chest as something to use in a game which mimics the game the child sees its parents playing daily and of which they are a part. They do not see it as something with material, mechanical parts as the builder might see it (that is what it would mean simply to see, though the builder may see the bigger picture as well.) They ask “What can we do with this?” and understand the chest to be a house, having already established, and taken for granted, the rules for what constitutes a house.

It does not end there. Playing the game of house is itself a very sophisticated perceptual process. Our ability to formulate and make use of abstraction is perhaps what separates human perception from the perception of other animals – not in terms of form, importantly, but in terms of degree. A cat, for example, will definitely see the chest as something other than a bundle of wood and nails assembled in a particular way. It will almost certainly see it as a scratching post or a place on which or in which to sit or sleep (depending on whether the chest is open or closed and on how tired the cat is), but the cat lacks the ability to conceptualize the chest as anything more than that with which it is afforded these very basic “cativities”, if you will. The reason for this, from an evolutionary standpoint, is that these cativities are all the cat needs to achieve its potential. So, the cat’s abstraction is of the same sort but of a much lower degree than that of the child. The cat’s abstraction is more like that of an infant’s than the young child’s, for an infant, like the cat, only seeks in objects the fulfillment of very basic needs. The only difference between the cat and the infant is the potential of growth and development.

One still might ask “what objective or quantifiable relation is there between a chest and a house?” One should see now, unless one is blinded by a materialist view of reality, that this question now becomes arbitrary because one cannot speak of perception in this example without qualifying the individual subjects’ understanding of it. Perception as we experience it does not seem to be a mere material process. One does not need to understand anything about brain matter to understand something. In fact, it is that understanding that is indeed the goal. One could say that in the cat’s mind there is very little understanding taking place at all, while in the child’s mind there is no limit, especially since the child’s capability for abstract thought will continue to develop. The child understands much more than the cat does. To understand an object, I should say, is to make an abstraction of it – an abstraction that has utility in the greater context of its environment – to allow one to be successful at a game. To see-as, then, is to understand, and vise versa.

The Personality-Character Distinction

As you may know, I am a big fan of personality studies. The system that has been researched the most by academics in psychology is the Big 5, and that’s where one who is interested in the most cutting-edge, fact-based research should look, but there are others that have taken off in popularity. Myers-Briggs, Enneagram, and HBDI are just a few that are used by individuals to improve their lives, and consulting groups all over North America to revamp businesses. Despite what little formal, scientific research has been done to confirm the cogency of these systems, the results generally speak for themselves. They have all had reasonable success in boosting employee satisfaction and productivity, and they have increased profit for those businesses too. Regardless of whether or not you “believe in” personality, there is something to it, and to explain these systems away because they may not “have all of their facts straight” is to overlook the utility they provide in personal development.

It’s not that the facts don’t matter, but what constitutes ‘fact’ isn’t easy to determine. The average half-life of a scientific fact is only seven years, and that is an average across all scientific fields. As we know, facts in physics tend to hold out longer than those in the social sciences, but when a fact in physics turns out to be wrong, it is often much more broadly and profoundly wrong and thus more difficult to accept because so much has been built on that foundation.

There is nothing that people hate more than an idea which compromises the integrity of their foundation, but when truth happens, we must be willing to change accordingly. This is where science can become its own worst enemy, because after all, it takes humans with subjective goals and motivations to interpret numbers and to make something useful out of those findings. Remember, science is a tool, not a belief system. But, that’s a discussion for another time. This is especially important today for social issues in the universities. I think that moving forward, personality research will play a crucial role in creating a stronger foundation for the humanities and social sciences (which are currently corrupt by neo-Marxism) and for better understanding how to sort out this massive mess which was made very real to me just the other night in the pub.

I was out for some beers, having an argument with a couple of old grad school friends. They were debating each other why women are underrepresented in philosophy departments when they are overrepresented in the other humanities. Their disagreements seemed to be between narrow social issues, as one might expect from two young, impressionable minds who’s opinions haven’t yet been optimized to think outside the social constructionist box of academia. One (the female) argued that direct oppression of women was the cause, and the other (the male) argued that systematic corruption was the problem, which, unbeknownst to them, is more or less the same thing, so their disagreements were fundamentally semantic. When I brought up differences in male and female personalities as a solution, leaving open for discussion what those differences might be (even though I already knew), they seemed to reject it without giving it any serious consideration. Shocker. They didn’t want to accept that people might actually be innately different (as a philosopher type, why wouldn’t you want to be different, I thought?). That is not to say, as I tried to explain, that nurture doesn’t play some crucial role, but they insisted on sticking to the nurture side of the debate while rejecting altogether the nature side. I was even being more centrist about the issue than I should have been because I wanted to facilitate good discussion, but that didn’t work as it was two versus one.

There were a couple of ironies in their rejection of my ideas. The first is that they were clearly embodying their natural male-female differences in the specific positions they originally took. Generally speaking, women are more agreeable and are more interested in people, while men are more interested in ideas and systems, so it’s no wonder my female friend was defending the group-identity-based female oppression position, and my male friend was defending the politico-systematic corruption position. I dared not point that out but they became more aggressive once they began to realize that their positions were more or less the same and only founded on semantic disagreement. From that point, their team approach in attempting to defeat me brought up the second irony — that in agreeing with each other in the fashion that they did, they were acting out the group identity role that is so characteristic of people who take the far-left position on social issues, which is something that they had admitted to. They oriented their arguments onto a foundation of equality, kindness, and compassion rather than on a desire to get to the truth, or to let truth present itself through three-way discussion. When I explained what a Pareto distribution is, the phenomenon where, if given equal opportunity, people’s natural differences will manifest thereby causing a necessary unequal distribution of success, they simply got mad (to make a short story shorter). In my male friend’s defense, he unknowingly proved that his constructionist position was at least somewhat justified by virtue of the simple fact that he is from Seattle. He is a slave of his own cunty-liberal reasoning, after all. My female friend, on the other hand, comes from a conservative family in Georgia, and she carries a gun in her purse, so, what the hell is her excuse?

Anyway, it seemed that the further we went down the rabbit hole, the more we started to talk past one another, for we were operating at different levels of analysis. They thought I was flat out wrong, and I thought they were missing the point, so we were going nowhere fast. They first disagreed with each other about which of the narrow social issues was the cause of the lack of women in philosophy, but they both agreed on the broader presupposition that social constructionism was correct. When I questioned that point, they got angry. This is what we’re supposed to do in philosophy, though – broaden an issue as much as we possibly can in order to find the most reasonable general perspective on which we can ground the known facts. If you can’t think that broadly, or at least keep your emotions in check while others are doing so, then philosophy is not for you. As we are all graduate-level philosophizers, I thought that would have been fun. Well, it was, but it was just a bit dirtier than any of us would have liked!

Looking back, a crucial distinction arose that I now see should have been dealt with from the beginning. That is the distinction between personality and character. Personality is what I consider to be one’s innate, baseline temperament. This is obviously difficult to control for scientifically because there are so many layers of environmental, social, and cultural influence accrued over a lifetime and stacked on top. But, there is still the personality which is your default mode of temperament that goes largely unchanged throughout your life. This is why two or more siblings raised under identical conditions will turn out so different – it’s because they are different. They require different sorts and degrees of attention. How that personality is cultivated, though, encompasses one’s character (which is more or less the same concept as Aristotle’s “State of Character” that he describes in his Nicomachean Ethics). This is where free moral will comes in. One habituates himself into making the right moral decisions to cultivate his virtues, and that forms the character. Perhaps I should call personality temperament, and character personality. Perhaps this semantic point is where my friends didn’t get it. Whatever. Semantics. I’ll be clear from here on.

What the social constructionist has more right than the radical materialist personality advocate (Eric Braverman, for example) is that, at the end of the day one’s character is what is important, and that we can habituate ourselves into projecting a certain image that can lead us to a successful and fulfilling life. What they get wrong is that we are a slave to societal norms, that we’re all the same, and to push back against the patriarchy is the only thing we can do about that. Funny, this view can be explained from a personality perspective. Social constructionists are liberal in their political views, which implies that they are generally low in Big 5 trait conscientiousness which deals with orderliness, industriousness, organization, etc., so they wouldn’t want to put in the necessary work to make positive changes in their lives to begin with. By this logic, they’re simply not allowed to deny the existence of personality. What the materialists correctly presuppose, probably without knowing, is that we should come to understand our baseline temperament, and when cultivating our personality into character, we should not stray from that default mode of being, or else we will live a dishonest and unfulfilling life. What they get wrong, ironically, is that life has no purpose and that we are nothing more than our biology. Pragmatically speaking, this can’t work either. I challenge a materialist to go out into the world and actually attempt to live as though his life has no purpose – as though his thoughts and actions are predetermined by brain functions because he has no free will. One will necessarily fall into a nihilistic, self-deprecating philosophy which would lead to a quick and painful demise, not only for him, but for everyone around him for whom he is a purpose.

Our personality/temperament is our default mode that we should strip from our societal influence to properly understand our potential, that is, if we are individual enough to manage that. Allow Terence McKenna to give you some advice: psychedelic drugs can help. Our character is what we have made of that potential, and it is only a good character if we have taken the time to understand what lies beneath it. Those are both good and evil things. Our character — our being — is the ever-evolving vessel we use to navigate the world that only we have the power to control. We cannot wholly exist apart from our environment. Our being is not our nature or our nurture, but it is precisely the abstract interplay between the two, and how we choose to act accordingly, without regret.

The False-Dilemma of the Nature vs. Nurture Debate

Before I begin, allow me to explain what I mean by false dilemma. A false dilemma is an error in reasoning whereby one falsely assumes that the truth of a matter is limited to one of two (or a select few) explanations. For example, the American presidential election. For another example, have you ever been stumped by a question on multiple choice test because you saw more than one possible correct answer (or no correct answers all)? — perhaps you got frustrated because you felt that the test was unfairly trying to trick you? Well, you were probably right. This may have been an instance of your ability to recognize the false dilemma fallacy. Sometimes there are indeed any number of correct answers given any number of circumstances. There is often simply not enough information provided in the question for one choice to clearly stick out as correct. This might lead you to question the test in a broader sense. What is the purpose of this (presidential election, or) test? What is it trying to measure or prove? Without getting into that answer in too much detail (as this is not a post about the philosophical state of academic testing), I can say such tests aren’t really concerned with truth and meaning as they are about the specific program they support. That program may or may not have the best interests of the people in mind, and it may or may not be directly governed by the amount of money it can produce in a relatively short period of time. Anyway, that’s another discussion.

In a previous post entitled The Slate, the Chalk, and the Eraser, I compared a child’s mind to a slate, and I argued that as long as we write on it with chalk by teaching him how to think (rather than a permanent marker/what to think), then he will be able to erase those markings to make way for better and more situation-relevant ones in the future, once he develops the ability to make conscious judgments. This is an example that you may have heard before, and it can be useful, but by some interpretations, it may seem to rest on a false presupposition. Such an interpretation may raise the “nature-nurture” question that is so common in circles of science and philosophy. One might argue that if a child’s mind is truly analogous to a slate in the way I have put forth, then I should commit myself to the “nurture” side of that debate. That was not my intention. In fact, that debate, in its most common form, presents a false dilemma, so I can only commit to both or neither side depending on what is meant by ‘nature’ and ‘nurture’. The conventional definitions of these terms are limited in that they create a spectrum on which to make truth-value judgments about objects, experiences, phenomena, etc. We commit to one end of the spectrum or the other, and we take that position as true and the other as illusory. This is similar to the subject-object distinction I described in an earlier post. Perhaps comically, even the most radical (and supposedly-yet-not-so-contrary) ends of scientific and religious belief systems sometimes agree one which side to commit to, albeit for different reasons. That particular conflict, however, is usually caused by a semantic problem. The terms ‘nature’ and ‘nurture’ obviously mean very different things for radical mechanistic scientists and evangelical Christians.

Please keep in mind throughout that I am not criticizing science or religion in general, so I am not out to offend anyone. I am merely criticizing radical misinterpretations of each. Consequently, if you’re an idiot, you will probably misinterpret and get offended by this post as well.

Taking this description a step further, false dilemma can be committed to any number of degrees. The degree to which it is committed is determined by at least two factors: the number of possible options one is considering and the level of complexity at which one is analyzing the problem. Any matter we might deal with can be organized conceptually into a pyramid hierarchy where the theoretical categorical ideal is at the top, and the further one goes down the pyramid, the more manageable but trivial the matters become. As a rule of thumb, the fewest options (one or two) and the lowest level of analysis (bottom of the pyramid) should give rise to the highest probability of a logical error because the bottom level of analysis has the highest number of factors to consider, and those factors culminate up the pyramid toward the categorical ideal. Fortunately, committing an error at the lowest levels of analysis usually involves a harmless and easily-correctable confusion of facts. Committing the error at higher levels of analysis are more ontological in nature (as the categorical ideals are per se) and can have catastrophic consequences. All sciences and religions structure their methods and beliefs into such pyramid hierarchies, as do we individually. They start with a categorical ideal as their assumption (e.g. materialism for some science; the existence of God for some religion), and they work down from there. However, neither religion nor science are meant to be top-down processes like philosophy (which is likely the only top-down discipline that exists). They’re meant to be bottom-up processes. For science, everything starts with the data, and the more data that is compiled and organized, the more likely we are able to draw conclusions and make those conclusions useful (in order to help people, one would hope). For religion, everything starts with the individual. Live a moral and just life, act kindly toward others, and you will be rewarded through fulfillment (heaven for western religions, self-actualization for eastern religions). These can both be good things (and even reconcilable) if we go about them in the right way. What are the consequences, however, if we go about them radically (which is to say blindly)? In short, for radical belief in a self-righteous God, it is war, and therefore the loss of potentially millions of lives. In short, for radical materialism, it is corruption in politics, education, and the pharmaceutical industry, the elimination of health and economic equality, and the potential downfall of western civilization as we know it. That’s another discussion, though.

For the nature-nurture debate, the false dilemma is the consequence of (but is not limited to) confusion about what constitutes nature and nurture to begin with, and even most people who subscribe to the very same schools of thought have very different definitions of each. First, in the conventional form of this debate, what do people mean by ‘nature’? Biology, as far as I can tell, and nothing more. We each inherit an innate “code” of programmed genetic traits passed down from our parents, and they from theirs, and so on. This code determines our physiology and governs our behavior and interaction with the outside world. Our actions are reactive and governed by our brain-computer, and free will is consequently an illusion. What is meant by ‘nurture’ on the other hand? Our experienced environment, and nothing more. Regardless of our chemical makeup, how we are raised will determine our future. There is no variation in genetics that could make once person significantly different from another if raised in identical fashion by the same parents, in the same time and place. We have no control over the objective environment we experience, so free will still seems to be illusory.

These positions seem equally shortsighted, and therefore, this problem transcends semantics. Neither accounts for the gray in the matter — that reality, whatever that is, does not follow rules such as definitions and mathematical principles. These are conceptions of our own collectively-subjective realities which make it easier for us to explain phenomena which are otherwise unfathomable. On this note, we could potentially  consider both nature and nurture phenomenal. That is an objective point on the matter. The first subjective problem is that both positions imply that we don’t have free will. Sure, there are unconscious habits of ancient origins that drive our conscious behavior (e.g. consumption, survival, and reproduction), but there other more complex structures that these positions don’t account for (e.g. hierarchical structures of dominance, beliefs, and abstract behavior such as artistic production), and those are infinitely variable from person to person and from group to group. This comes back to the point I just made about phenomenal reality and the conceptions we follow in order to explain them as if they are somehow out there in the objective world that we are not part of.

Not to mention, we all take differently to the idea that free will might not exist. Religious people are often deeply offended by this idea whereas many scientists (theoretical physicists in particular) claim to be humbled by it. Both reactions, I would argue, are disgustingly self-righteous and are the direct consequence, not of truly understanding the concept of free will per se, but of whether or not free will simply fits into his or her preconstructed hierarchical structure of beliefs. One should see clearly, on that note, why a materialist must reject free will on principle alone, and a radical christian must accept it on principle alone. Regardless of the prospect that the religious person has a right to be offended in this case, and that it is contradictory of the scientist to commit to a subjective ontological opinion when that very opinion does not permit one to have an opinion to begin with (nor can it be supported with any sufficient amount of “scientific” evidence whatsoever), the point here transcends the matter of free will itself: that rejecting or accepting anything on principle alone is absurd. This calls into question matters of collective ideological influence. There is power in numbers, and that power is used for evil every bit as often as it is used for good. When individuals, however, break free from those ideologies, they realize how foolish it is to be sheep and to believe in anything to the extent that it harms anyone in any way (physiologically, financially, emotionally, etc.). The scary part about this is that literally any program might trap us in this way (ideologically), and blind us from the potentially-innate moral principles that underlie many of our actions. On that note, we are all collectively very much the same when we subscribe to a program, and we are all part of some program. We are individually very different, however, because we each have the potential to arrive at this realization through unique means. We each have a psychological structure that makes up our personality. It is undeniably innate to an extent, yet only partially biological. This reveals the immeasurable value in developing the one’s intrapersonal intelligence through introspection and careful evaluation of one’s own thoughts, feelings, perceptions, and desires.

Furthermore, conventional nature-nurture positions are polarities on a spectrum that doesn’t really exist. If we had clearer definitions of each, perhaps the debate would not present a false dilemma. We should reconstruct those definitions to be inclusive of phenomena — think of these terms as categories for ranges of processes rather than singular processes themselves. If we think of these terms as being on a spectrum, we are led to ask the impossible question of where the boundary is between them. If we think of them as categories, we are forced to embrace the reality that most, if not all, processes can fall into either category given a certain set of circumstances, and thus, those categories become virtually indistinguishable. E.g. in the case of inherited skills: practice makes perfect, yet natural talent seems so strongly to exist. If the truth-value-based spectrum between nature and nurture were a real thing, then neither position would be able to account for both nurtured ability and natural talent; it would simply be either/or. This is a consequence of the false dilemma. It leads us to believe that this gray matter is black and white. If we one is decent at learning anything, he/she knows that there is only gray in everything.

But is there? I hope I have explained to some conceivable extent why scientific and metaphysical matters should not be structured into a polar truth-spectrum, and why any attempt to do so would likely present a false dilemma. However, it seems more reasonable to apply spectrum structures to value theory matters such as aesthetics, ethics, and even other personal motivators such as love. This, I will explain further in a later post.

 

Who Has Midlife Crises and Why

Psychologist Carl Jung spoke of a process called ‘individuation’ whereby one gains an elevated degree of self-awareness and is therefore able to take crucial steps toward cultivating his ideal personality (i.e. ‘self actualization’ in Maslownian terms). In layman’s terms, this process is called a ‘midlife crisis’. My proposal is that this is a period of growth that everyone experiences, and the sooner it happens, the easier it is to overcome.

According to social convention and many professional circles of psychology, a midlife crisis is considered a bad thing. For example, a psychiatrist named Sue may claim to have seen this instance many times before. Sue describes it empirically as stress at work and in the family that has accumulated over time, and then it was suddenly unleashed in different forms. This places the blame on the individual for not communicating his inner thoughts and feelings as they arose, so Sue will offer her therapy services to fix the problem by teaching better communication.

A neurotherapist named Ben might also claim to have seen this many times before, but he will take a more materialist approach. Ben will confine the problem to the brain by assuming that something simply went wrong with his neural functioning, and that the matter is beyond his control. He might suggest that the only solution is to undergo neurotherapy in his clinic to realign normal neural pathways in the frontal lobe of the brain.

Both the Sue and Ben, as well as most people in general, see this crisis as a problem that needs to be fixed, and that the only way to do that is via the specific methods in which they have been trained. “I understand. Let me handle it. You can trust me.” is what they will tell their potential patient. Given their wall of shiny degrees in there cozy, inviting office, it is difficult to turn down their offer no matter the cost, as long as they can convince you that you need it.

More likely than not, both Sue and Ben are acting in their own self interests first. They are business people as well as medical professionals. Indeed, the term ‘crisis’ itself carries a derogatory tone, and the professionals have learned to capitalize on that. Their outward warmth, their technical language, their comfortable offices, their alleged understanding the situation, etc. are tactics that they use to keep their business running. That is not to say that their practices are completely useless, but rather, that either service will likely have more or less the same effect for the very same condition because neither comes close to attacking the root of the issue. In fact, they unknowingly focus on fixing the same exact thing (outward communication of inward feelings) since language expressions are actually channeled through the frontal lobe of the brain!

Meet my friend Jay. Jay is 38 years old, and he is an officer in the military. To this point, Jay has led a respectable life of service and duty. He is a devout Christian, goes to church every Sunday, and does community service with his church. He worked hard in high school and in Boy Scouts; he graduated and became an Eagle Scout; he went to college, worked hard, graduated, joined the military as a lieutenant, worked hard, got married, worked hard, had two kids, and then he continued to work hard to maintain that for the years following. Jay is a doer: Make a decision, work hard at it, and you will lead a successful life.

Jay never really questioned the position he was in, and things seemed to be going great, but then, seemingly out of nowhere, he began to have what is commonly known as a midlife crisis. He became a bit depressed and self-conflicted. His temper shortened, and he frequently had emotional outbursts at his wife and kids. With some reluctance, he finally agreed to grant his wife’s request and seek help. He began going to Sue, the psychiatrist, both alone and with his wife. Things seemed to improve for one or two days following each session, but then he would revert back to his ordinary behavior. Sue’s methods weren’t really working for Jay. He got impatient and started to believe that the process was being prolonged, and that he was spending more money than he needed to.

Jay began to seek other forms of help, and then he discovered Ben’s neurotherapy practice. Upon first meeting Ben, he felt a bit more confident moving forward. Ben explained, using much technical jargon, how important the brain is in processing information and making decisions. Though the claim that the brain is important is true, indeed it is necessary, he went on to convince Jay further that his methods were “more scientific” than traditional therapy because they are “backed by modern neuroscientific research”. Jay became convinced that neurotherapy was the answer, and he began treatment. After a few months, however, as Jay’s optimism wore off, so did his patience; his behavior took the same turn that it did before and after psychiatric therapy. He began to feel misled into thinking that these therapists were offering a sure-fire, algorithmic solution that was actually, in some sense, a scam. It turns out that he was right.

The absolute root of a “crisis” is unknown to Sue and Ben because it is, in the conventional sense, unknowable. A crucial part of it deals with knowledge that does not likely have its foundations in the material world, nor is it solvable by simply making a few practical, sure-fire adjustments in one’s everyday life. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that most people like Jay have so much trouble wrapping their minds around something that is different in nature from their materialism-based work and education and their practical, habit-based personal lives, especially when the people who they put their trust and money in are misleading them. It is difficult for them to realize that there is more to themselves than their brains, bodies, and the feedback they gather from the external social and material world. This was exactly Jay’s predicament. He wanted to put his trust into a system to manage his life from the outside-in, but nothing was working. He was forced to turn inward and deal with it himself.

There is a continuous process of personality development in everyone, and without its sufficient maturation, one simply cannot optimally handle the stresses of life. Understanding a midlife crisis, or any crisis for that matter, and taking steps to solve it is a personal journey. It requires one to discover, embrace, and cultivate the auxiliary side of the personality in conjunction with the continuing development of the dominant side. What I am alluding to is certainly not to have solved this puzzle for everyone, necessarily, but rather that it is each person’s job to solve their own puzzle for themselves. There is indeed a highly-effective model one can keep in mind to better understand the self and its place in the world: the cognitive functions as described by Carl Jung.

Immediately, one might question this method. Good. You should, but don’t question it without knowing anything about it, or at least in a way that presupposes bias. It is a continuously developing theory outside of institutional psychology. The reason for this is simply that it does not seem to fit the existing ideology of institutional science on a broader scale: materialism – all reality in the universe is founded on and comprised of quantifiable matter and energy. I have explained in several previous posts, just as well as several professional scientists and philosophers have explained in recent years, why science must move past the materialist worldview in order to progress, no matter the cost. That is not up for debate, so I will prevent any further discussion on the matter by saying this: To dismiss Jungian psychology on the basis of their being “no evidence” for it presupposes that the only evidence is the type that materialism relies on. This is circular reasoning. There in fact has been no materialist attempt to disprove it to begin with. In other words, to stick to such an unsupported principle is to assume it is “guilty until proven innocent”, as in wrong-until-proven-by-materialism. The premise for my proposal here is about people. All people are unique, but there are baseline psychological tendencies by which we operate. This is, as we should all agree, indeed obvious upon any amount of close observation of one’s social environment. That, I will submit, is in itself a form of evidence worthy of a discussion. Having said that…

Each person’s dominant cognitive function, according to Jung, is either introverted or extroverted, and either a mode of judgment or perception. There are two ways of making judgments (thinking and feeling) and two modes of perception (sensing and intuiting). If one’s dominant function is inwardly perceptive, say, introverted intuiting (Ni), then his auxiliary (secondary) function will be an outward mode of judgment, either extroverted thinking or feeling (Te/Fe), to balance out the dominant function.

Of course, everyone necessarily has the capacity to both perceive and make judgments, to extrovert output and introvert input, to think and feel, to sense and intuit; we otherwise would not be able to survive in any social or professional setting. We all do all of those things to varying degrees, indeed. One of those functions, however, is naturally dominant. It is our own personal “standard operating procedure” under normal conditions. When we are confronted with a crisis, we are forced to operate with more depth; i.e. we must work harder do deal with the death of a loved-one than to decide what to wear to go to church, obviously. This does not mean we abide by our SOP more closely than usual. In fact, it implies the opposite: that we must be more flexible about our dominant function. We need balance between our most dominant modes of perception and judgment in order optimally deal with stressful situations. The auxiliary function is what we all struggle with cultivating at some point in our young adulthood to middle-aged lives. It is the one that is more repressed, but it is necessary to use in support of our dominant function if we are to deal with crises healthily.

Whether one is introverted or extroverted in general depends on whether his dominant function is introverted or extroverted. An introvert will likely develop his extroverted auxiliary function earlier in life than an extrovert will develop his introverted auxiliary function because, especially in extroverted-dominated western societies like the United States, functioning in an extroverted fashion is forced upon introverts. Extroverts more easily fit in right from the start, but they have personal crises later in life.

Jay, for example, is Te (extroverted thinking) dominant, which means he is an extrovert with left-brained thinking tendencies. He is outgoing, decisive, and abides by cold, hard, logical systems (e.g. mathematics, law, protocol, etc.) to make judgments about reality. This is very useful in his military environment which values this type of rule-based reasoning very highly. He has a wide circle of social and professional connections and makes a good living. From the outside-looking-in, he is viewed as a success by his peers; the American dream is very Te-focused, and Te-dominants (and Fe) are the most likely to buy into it. However, on a more personal level, as he is learning in his midlife, he is only outwardly, not inwardly, organized. An introverted thinking-dominant (Ti) personality, by contrast, will have a well-structured, internal set of logical rules and principles, but to other people, he may seem outwardly messy and disorganized because he dismisses conventional rules.

For his entire life to this point, Jay has identified himself based on the rules that he followed (by his commanding officer at work, by the Bible in his moral decisions, and by his wife at home). He lived the first half of his life constantly focused on planning for the future and managing himself in an outward fashion. He was accustomed to getting things done – acting now and thinking later. Now that things have settled down, there is no more planning to be done. What is he to do?

The answer is: Don’t do anything. Think. Process. Reflect. Jay’s most obvious problem is that he was not able to turn inward and think independently, apart from the rules set before him. He had been so busy living up to standards external to himself, he had never even considered himself to be a conscious, independent, introspective being. In fact, he was afraid to because he naively associated introspection with feelings, and feelings with weakness. That, after all, is the popular opinion in American culture.

Jay’s midlife crisis is common among all left-brained judging (Te or Fe dominant) personalities, who encompass about half of the American population according to psychologist David Keirsey who was a leader in modernizing Jung’s principles in the 70s and 80s. This process manifests itself in different ways and at different times.

First thing’s first: we need to change our terminology. This crisis is not really a “crisis” at all, in fact; it is a period of growth whereby the extrovert discovers the introverted side of his or her personality, or the introvert attempts to align his internal rules with outer reality. Jay’s dominant function, as I have mentioned, is called extroverted thinking. It is a way of making judgments: being quickly decisive and taking impartial action based on established rules. What he lacks is a cultivated ability to inwardly process the information that he is acting on. That function is a mode of perception. Jay’s perceiving function, once cultivated, will act as the support for his decision-making, and will improve that process to a huge degree. The perceiving function specific for Jay is called introverted sensing (Si). This function collects data based on personal experience, traditions, and principles for the sake of themselves. His personality suits the military and other managerial positions perfectly. When his auxiliary Si is underdeveloped, he follows the rules and doesn’t question them, while almost entirely neglecting his own interests.

What it means for Jay to develop his auxiliary Si function is to improve the way he collects and interprets data and flexibly adapts his existing principles to the constantly-changing environment. This is an internal process. It will improve the way he perceives himself in relation to the data as well as the way he perceives the data itself. He will use this introverted Si perception in conjunction with his dominant Te judgment to make well-rounded decisions.

I used Jay as an example because he possesses the most common type of Jungian personality construction among men in the United States (ESTJ according to Myers-Briggs). The most common type for females (ESFJ) is very similar (Fe/Si dominant/auxiliary instead of Te/Si). If you don’t relate to Jay or his Fe counterpart, that is fine. There are 14 other forms of cognitive functioning, according to Jung. And that is not to take anything away from the individuals within each of those categories. As with anything, there is an immeasurably wider variety of uniqueness among individuals within each group than there are generalized differences among the groups themselves. Having said that, Jungian cognitive typology is not more than a guideline, albeit a very effective one, to keep in mind as one deals with the struggles of life. At the same time, however, don’t blame anyone other than yourself if you reject the system out of principle alone amid a personal crisis.

Cheers!

Reason – The Business of Philosophy

“To say that a stone falls to Earth because it is obeying a law makes it a man and even a citizen.”  -C. S. Lewis

People who believe in science as a worldview rather than a method of inquiry – I call them scientismists – are fascinated by science because they cannot grasp it, just like all people who are not magicians are fascinated by magic. What little understanding they do have of it, in principle, is superficial. The difference between people’s perception of science and that of magic is that magic can always be explained. Magic plays a trick on one’s perception. That is magic’s nature as well as its goal. Science, on the other hand, cannot always be figured out. There simply is not a scientific explanation for everything (or of most things). Nor is it science’s goal to explain everything! Science is an incremental process of collecting empirical data, interpreting it, and attempting to manipulate aspects of the environment accordingly for (mostly) human benefit. It is experimental and observable. It is, as I will explain, inductive. Unfortunately, sometimes unknowingly, human subjectivity intervenes in at least one of these three steps, exposing its limits through ours. So, where does reason fit in to this process?

What “Reason” is NOT

One problem with scientism is that it equates science and reason. This is incorrect. Although philosophers of science, most of whom are scientists themselves, have debated the definition of science since it was called ‘Natural Philosophy’, there is one thing that we do know about it and the difference between it and reason. Science deals with questions of ‘how’. It describes the inner-workings, the technicalities, of observable processes and states of affairs. Reason deals with questions of ‘why’. It explores lines of thinking – fundamental goals, purposes, and meanings – for those processes and states of affairs as well those for many other non-scientific processes and states of affairs. Having said that, reason is necessary for science, but it is immeasurably more broad.

Science cannot alone answer why-questions. Claiming that it can is a mark of scientism. Why is that?

I will now give reasons for that by using an example from Dr. Wes Cecil’s 2014 lecture about scientism at Peninsula College:

Engineering, which is a type of science that has its foundations in calculus, can tell us how to build a bridge. Engineering can build the biggest, longest, strongest bridge one could possibly imagine. How will the bridge look? We marry science and art to make the bridge beautiful as well as functional. So, even at this first stage of building a bridge – design – science cannot stand independent from even art, which seems so much more abstract.

Furthermore, why do we need to build a bridge? This is a question of reason, not of science. The answer seems to be “to get to the other side of the river”. But what the engineer (who is also a business man who wants to land the deal for this highly-lucrative project) might neglect is that building a bridge is not the only way to get to the other side of the river. Perhaps a ferry would be an easier, more cost-effective option. The engineer can tell us how to build a ferry too, but making the decision between the bridge and the ferry, ultimately, is not the engineer’s business.

Even once the decision has been made to build the bridge, several more questions arise: who will pay for the bridge?; how will they pay for it?; where exactly will the bridge be?; who will be allowed to use the bridge? Motorized vehicles only? Bikes? Pedestrians?; etc. These are not scientific questions, and nor are most questions in our everyday lives. They are economic, ethical, and political questions that, much like the scientific question of how to build the bridge, require some application of reason, but they cannot themselves be equated with reason. Reason is something as different as it is important to these goals, processes, and states of affairs.

What is Reason?

Reason is a skill and a tool. It is the byproduct of logic. Logic is a subfield of philosophy that deals with reasoning in its purest forms. So, if someone wants to believe that science and reason are the same thing, then they are clearly admitting that science is merely a byproduct of a subfield of philosophy. I am sure that most scientismists egos would not be willing to live with that. Although some similar claim could still otherwise be the case, that is not what I am attempting to prove here. Let’s focus on reasoning.

We say that an argument is valid when the truth of the claim follows from the truth of its evidence. There is a symbolic way to express this. For example:

If p, then q; p; Therefore q.

What we have here is not a statement, but rather, a statement form called Modus Ponens. It is a formula in which we can plug anything for variables p and q, and whether or not the statement is true, it will be valid according to the rules of logic. Try it for yourself! But remember, ‘validity’ and ‘truth’ are not the same thing.

The example above describes deductive reasoning; it is conceptual. Immanuel Kant called the knowledge we gain from this process a priori – knowledge which is self-justifiable. Mathematics is a classic example of deductive reasoning. It is a highly systematic construction that seems to work independent from our own experience of it, that we can also apply to processes like building a bridge.

There is another type of reasoning called inductive reasoning. It is the process of reasoning based on past events and evidence collected from those events. The type of knowledge that one gains from inductive reasoning, according to Kant, is called a posteriori. This is knowledge that is justified by experience rather than a conceptual system. For example: We reason that the sun will rise tomorrow because it has everyday for all of recorded human history. We also have empirical evidence to explain how the sun rises. However, the prediction that the sun will rise tomorrow is only a prediction, not a certainty, despite all the evidence we have that it will rise. The prediction presupposes that not one of countless possible events (Sun burns out, asteroid knocks Earth out of orbit, Earth stops rotating, etc.) will occur to prevent that from happening.

Illusions of Scientism

The mistake that scientism makes is that it claims that the methods of science are deductive when they are actually inductive. Reductive science (that which seeks to explain larger phenomena by reducing matter down to smaller parts) most commonly makes this mistake. More often than not, those “smallest parts” are laws or theories defined by mathematical formulas. Scientismists believe that the deductions made by mathematical approaches to science produce philosophically true results. They do not. The results are simply valid because they work within a strict, self-justifiable framework – mathematics. But, how applicable are mathematics to the sciences, and how strong is this validity?

“The excellent beginning made by quantum mechanics with the hydrogen atom peters out slowly in the sands of approximation in as much as we move toward more complex situations… This decline in the efficiency of mathematical algorithms accelerates when we go into chemistry. The interactions between two molecules of any degree of complexity evades mathematical description… In biology, if we make exceptions of the theory of population and of formal genetics, the use of mathematics is confined to modelling a few local situations (transmission of nerve impulses, blood flow in the arteries, etc.) of slight theoretical interest and limited practical value… The relatively rapid degeneration in the possible uses of mathematics when one moves from physics to biology is certainly known among specialists, but there is a reluctance to reveal it to the public at large… The feeling of security given by the reductionist approach is in fact illusory.”

-Rene Thom, Mathemetician

Deductive reasoning and its systems, such as mathematics, are human constructs. However, how they came to be should be accurately described. They were not merely created, because that would imply that they came from nothing. Mathematics are very logical and can be applied in important ways. However, the fact that mathematics works in so many ways should not cause us the delusion that they were discovered either, for that would imply that there is some observable, fundamental, empirical truth to them. This is not the case either. Mathematics and the laws they describe are found nowhere in nature. There are no obvious examples of perfect circles or right angles anywhere in the universe. There are also no numbers. We can count objects, yes, but no two objects, from stars to particles of dust, are exactly the same. What does it mean when we say “here are two firs” when the trees, though of the same species, have so many obvious differences?

What a statement about a number asserts, according to Gottlob Frege, is a concept, because any application of it is deductive. So, I prefer to say of such systems that they were developed. They are constructed from logic for a purpose, but without that purpose – without an answer to the question ‘why do we use them?’ – they are nonexistent. Therefore, there is a strong sense in which the application of such systems is limited to our belief in them. Because we see them work in so many ways, it is difficult to not believe in them.

Physics attempts to act as the reason, the governing body of all science, but it cannot account for all of the uncertainty that scientific problems face. Its mathematical foundations are rigid, and so are the laws that they describe. However, occurrences in the universe are not rigid at all. They are random and unpredictable and constantly evolving. Therefore, such “laws” are only guidelines, albeit rather useful ones.

As Thom states, “the public at large” is unaware of the lack of practical applications of mathematics to science, and it is precisely that illusion of efficiency that scientism, which is comprised of both specialists and non-specialists, takes for granted. It is anthropocentric to believe that, because we understand mathematics, a system we developed, we can understand everything. Humans are not at the center of the universe. We’re merely an immeasurably small part of it.

The Solution

In the same way Rene Thom explains mathematical formulas do not directly translate to chemistry and biology, deductive reasoning, more generally, has very limited application in most aspects of our everyday lives. Kids in school ask, “I’ll never use algebra; why am I learning it?” It turns out, they are absolutely right. Learning math beyond basic addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division is a waste of time for most. What they should be learning instead are the basics of reasoning. Deduction only proves validity, not truth, and induction has even greater limits, as David Hume and many others have pointed out. People, especially young children, are truth-seekers by nature, which is to say they are little philosophers.

There is a solution: informal logic, the study of logical fallacies – the most basic errors in reasoning. Informal logic is widely accessible and universally applicable. If people are to reason well, informal logic is the most fundamental way to start, and start young we should. Children, in fact, have a natural tendency to do this extremely well.

To be continued…