Tag: subjectivity

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

Britton William FrostLeave a comment

‘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 False-Dilemma of the Nature vs. Nurture Debate

Britton William FrostLeave a comment

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.

 

Collective Subjectivity = Reality :: The Utility of Phenomenological Thought

Britton William FrostLeave a comment

In my last post, I explained the differences between and the proper uses of the terms ‘subjective’ and ‘objective’. To recap, these terms do not describe the positions from which one perceives. Of course, everyone perceives subjectively, and objects don’t perceive at all. Therefore, the subject/object spectrum is not a spectrum on which one may judge a matter’s truth-value. The spectrum simply describes the nature of the matter at hand — subjective means “of a subject” and objective means “of an object”. Having said that, how can we define truth more broadly? What determines it?

I think that we can, in many conceivable instances, equate truth with reality. This is based on one of two popular definitions of reality. The first, more popular definition in which we cannot equate truth and reality, and the one I reject, is that of objective, Newtonian-scientific reality. This holds that there are mathematical laws and principles out there in the universe, already discovered or waiting to be discovered, which the forces of nature can be reduced to. Proponents of this view hold “rationality”, in all of its vagueness, as the singular Platonic ideal which dictates what is true, real, and meaningful. It follows from this that mechanistic science holds the key to all knowledge. The problem here is that mechanistic science (not all science) is founded in the metaphysical belief in materialism. Materialism suggests that all reality is comprised of quantifiable matter and energy. Humans, and all living things, are “lumbering robots”, as Richard Dawkins claims. Consciousness, ethics, morality, spirituality, and anything else without a known material basis is subjective in nature and thus superstitious, irrational, and not real. As I have already explained, this worldview rests on a straw-man distinction between what constitutes subjective and objective, for it assumes that this distinction creates a spectrum on which to judge a matter’s truth-value (the more objective, the more true).

Remaining consistent with how I have distinguished subjective and objective is the second, less popular, and in my view, much more useful way of defining truth and reality: what is real is what affords us action and drives us toward a goal. The definition is as simple as that, but its implications have a tremendous amount of depth rooted in the unknown. Instead of holding one Platonic ideal (like rationality) as the key to all truth, there are an infinite number of ideals that humans conceptualize, both individually and collectively, in order to achieve their ends. Therefore, this view affords relevance to a wide range of perspectives even if the nature of the objects being perceived is unknown. The rationalist view, by contrast, is limited to the assumption that the nature of everything has already been determined to fit into one of two metaphysical categories: objective reality or subjective delusion. (This Newtonian theory of reality I have just explained, by the way, is a long-winded way of defining ‘scientism’, a term I often use in my posts.)

Nature doesn’t obey laws; humans do, so we tend to compartmentalize everything else in that way because that makes it easier for us to explain what we want to know and explain-away anything we don’t want to know. What we don’t want to know is what we are afraid of, and as it turns out, what we are afraid of is the unknown. So, when anomalies, whether personal or scientific, that don’t fit the already-established laws arise, a Newtonian thinker will categorize it as illusory in order to explain it away. This doesn’t work because even we humans have a propensity to break the laws that we create for ourselves, and this can be a very productive thing. The degrees to which this is the case depends on our individual psychological makeups. People who are high in the Big-5 personality trait conscientiousness, for example, tend to obey rules because of their innate need for outward structure and order. Those who are low in that trait are more likely to break rules, especially if they are also low in agreeableness which measures one’s tendency to compromise and achieve harmony in social situations. Openness, on the other hand, the trait correlated with intellect and creativity, allows one to see beyond the rules and break them for the right reasons — when they are holding one back from progress, for example. These are just three of five broad personality traits that have an abundance of scientific research to potentially confirm their realness and usefulness, even as a rationalist/Newtonian might perceive them. However, the tendency of someone to break rules as a result of their psychological makeup does not only apply to political laws. We also create collective social rules among groups of friends and unconscious conceptual rules for ourselves in order to more easily understand our environment, and those systems satisfy the same basic human needs and take the same hierarchical forms as political order does, and they serve purposes that contrast only in terms of their widespread-ness.

Regardless of our individual psychologies, there are commonalities that all humans share in terms of which types of goals we have and which types of things drive us toward or away from action. Those things are, therefore, collectively subjective across humanity and are what I would like to propose the most universally real and true things (insofar as anything can be universally real or true at all). This leads me to elaborate further on this goal-oriented view of reality.

Since I used Newton as a scientific lens through which to understand the rationalist theory of reality, I will do the same thing to explain the goal-based theory that I am proposing, but this time using Darwin. Philosophically speaking, Darwin did not commit himself to his theories in the same law-sense that Newton did his. In fact, many of Darwin’s ideas have recently been found to be rooted in psychology rather than in hard mechanistic biology. His main principle can be summed up with this: nature selects, and we make choices, based on what we judge to be most likely to allow us to survive and reproduce. That is all. Everything else is just detailed justification which may or may not be true or relevant. In fact, Darwin left open the possibility that the details of his evolutionary theory not only could be wrong, but that they probably were, and he was very serious about that. To take all of those details literally leads one into the same logical trap that the “skeptics/ new atheists” fall into when they obsess over the details of the Bible — they oversimplify and misrepresent its meaning, and therefore overlook the broader, most important points that exist. These are straw-man arguments, and they demonstrate a persistent, juvenile lack and rejection of intellect.

The reason Darwin’s main evolutionary principle is psychological is because it is consistent with Carl Jung’s idea of the archetype. An archetype is any ancient, unconscious pattern of behavior common among groups or the entirety of the human population and their ancestors. The need for all living beings, not only humans, to survive and reproduce, is undoubtedly real. It is something we understand so little, yet it drives an inconceivably wide range of behaviors, most of which are taken for granted to the extent that they are unconscious (e.g. sex-drive is causally related to the desire to reproduce). It is not only in the natural world that humans would have to desperately fight for their life against other species, but even among ourselves in the civilized world have there been instances of radical attempts to wipe out masses of people because one group saw another group’s ideologies as threatening to their own survival and prosperity (e.g. both Hitler and Stalin led such endeavors in the 20th century).

Perhaps, instead, if we equate truth with this archetypal, goal-oriented conception of reality, then we can come to a reasonable conclusion about what constitutes truth: that which affords and drives us to action. That is to say that (capital-T) Truth, in the idealistic, rationalist sense, probably does not exist, and if it does, our five senses will never have the capacity to understand it. The best we can achieve and conceive is that which is true-enough. For what? For us to achieve our goals: survive, reproduce, and make ends meet, and if we are very sophisticated and open, to also introspect, to be honest with ourselves and others, and to live a moral and just life.

Subjectivity vs. Objectivity: Not a Distinction of Truth

Britton William Frost3 Comments

I wonder which is worse: the fear of the unknown? Or knowing for sure that something terrible is true?

@pennyforyourbookthoughts

Or, if I might add, the negative, unforeseen consequences of that terrible thing being true?

The answer is: “fear of the unknown”, and it’s a little complicated.

Most things one might know “for sure” lie at either end of the subject/object spectrum. What is known on the subjective end of that spectrum is generally thought to deal with personal or value truths of an that are understood qualitatively by that individual. What is known on the objective end is generally thought to deal with fact and scientific truth that is understood quantitatively by a group. This is generally correct, but it is only the world of objects that convention accepts as ‘truth’, while the subjective is understood to not contain truth-value at all unless we are speaking about it in material (and thus, objective) terms. So, this spectrum actually seems to measure truth; the more objective it is, the more true it is. Here is an interesting misconception that leads me to attempt to make clear the proper uses of these terms.

What does it mean for something to be ‘subjective’ or ‘objective’? First, what they DO NOT describe are points from which one perceives. In other words, ‘subjective’ does not mean “opinion – from the point of view of a particular subject”, and ‘objective’ does not mean “rationally – from the point of view of an object or the world of objects” as, say, Richard Dawkins’ or Ayn Rand’s pseudo-philosophies suggest. They consider the vaguely defined term ‘rationality’ as the universal ideal — Dawkins through materialism and Rand through radical capitalism/individualism. This is shallow and wrong. The reasons for this should be clear. First, everyone perceives subjectively, from their own point of view, and objects don’t have the capacity to perceive to begin with — that is precisely what makes us subjects and things objects! No human perceives at the level of subatomic particles or, by the same token, God. Second, the differences between what constitutes ‘subjective’ and ‘objective’, for the sake of this conversation, depend on how ‘truth’ is defined more broadly. In fact, these terms have nothing to do with truth at all.

Rather, these terms describe the nature of a matter at hand. ‘Subjective’ simply means “dealing with matters of the subject or set of subjects”, and that can range from intrapersonal matters to interpersonal ones. ‘Objective’ means “dealing with matters of an object or set of objects”, and that can range from logical to quantitative to empirical. They DO NOT distinguish any degree of truth. Science, for example, is not objective because it it more true; it is objective simply because it deals with objects. Medicinal practice (which is not a science, by the way), on the other hand, is subjective in nature because it is interpersonal; it deals with human subjects on a case-by-case basis (many physicians do, however, treat their patients as objects, and they in turn view their practice as an objective matter).

This is not to say, however, that each subject perceives and makes judgments to the same degree of truth or accuracy. Each subject analyses any given situation to the degree that is consistent with their unique set of intellectual capacities; those include intrapersonal, interpersonal, conceptual, spatial, experiential, etc. A good IQ assessment tends to measure a combination of all of those things, but most people are only strong in one or two of those areas. For example, one might have a high level of intrapersonal intelligence (they know themselves well and understand their own mental and emotional states) but lack the ability to impartially deal with other people or objective matters because of how strongly they are affected by the outside world. On the other hand, one might have be high in logical or spatial intelligence but lack the ability to admit or even be aware of their emotional states or internal biases that govern the way they deal with personal matters (having one capacity does not imply deficiency in another capacity, necessarily, as people high in IQ might prove).

Given all of this personality variability among subjects, can an argument be made about the question stated above? Which is worse: fear of the unknown, knowing something terrible is true, or the negative consequences that accompany knowledge? I can only speak about this in a normative fashion. I also must presume that anything “good”, as it pertains to knowledge, should broaden one’s perception, and anything “bad” should narrow it. Knowing anything “for sure”, insofar as that is possible, should be a good thing in that it should teach us something meaningful, whether it is pleasant or not. The goodness of that knowledge, because it is sometimes unpleasant, is not contingent on the goodness of its specific consequences. Nietzsche was correct when he said that “people do not fear being deceived; they fear the negative consequences of being deceived”. The consequences, after all, are merely a result of cause and effect, and any cause can produce any number of variable effects depending on the set of circumstances under which it occurs. It is that potential for unforeseen chaos that people fear, at least on the surface. But, such matters are too variable and trivial to direct action in a meaningful way when certain higher-level truths (e.g. how should we think about x, why does x matter to us, etc.) have not been accounted for, so to simply fear consequences is shortsighted. To know something “terrible”, on the other hand, is usually just a case of knowing one side of a particular occurrence without knowing the reasons it happened or being familiar with any perspectives apart from the first one that is presented. In other words, it is knowledge without understanding.

It is the unknown that contains that crucial knowledge that will afford us understanding and drive us to action. That is where real truth comes from. We should be prepared to face the unknown at any time, for it is all around us, and the world so rarely unfolds as we expect it to. In fact, there is nothing that I can think of that any one person has complete control over. There are an infinite number of effects and consequences that our actions can and will cause, so perhaps having minimal expectations to begin with is the most healthy way to prepare for the future. Do not fear the unknown, for to fear the unknown is to fear truth. Facing the unknown will prevent one from accepting any knowledge as “terrible”, and it will in turn not only minimize negative consequences, but it will open many unforeseen, positive opportunities.