The Consolation of Philosophy IV

I don't think I found one iota of useful discourse in this chapter. The main argument is that while it may seem that good people sometimes experience hardship, and bad people sometimes profit, that really this doesn't happen. The good are also truly powerful, and the bad are truly powerless.

To make these conclusions Boethius has to carefully define many terms and concepts, sometimes redefining what he spoke of in previous chapters. Happiness is still the unity of independence, power, fame, glory, and pleasure. Pursuit of that happiness is divine and truly good. Good people, in making advances towards happiness, are powerful and bad people are powerless as they do not advance towards happiness. This is a conclusion of his - I don't follow. It also appears Boethius defines good and evil as a dichotomy; a person is either good, or bad. Nowhere does he mention how he separates people, and nowhere does he even pay lip service to the idea of a graduated scale of good and evil.

Most of the latter half of the chapter concerns how God administers the universe, and why we (incorrectly) perceive injustice. I found the argument to be shallow and poorly evidenced, even considering the early state of the Christian religion at the time. Descartes and Spinoza had much better theological arguments, and Seneca had a much clearer discussion of why good things happen to bad people.

Reflections on Free Speech

Well, not so much the concept as much as how Spinoza addresses it in his final chapter of the Theological-Political Treatise. That's right! Finished the book. Now on to Seneca's Dialogues and Essays, before the next shipment of books comes in.

Chapter XX is on free speech and thought, and how it is necessary to a state. Much of the chapter is Machiavellian in nature. Sovereigns have the right to oppress and govern their people however they see fit, but practically this is unworkable. If even Moses had his detractors, it is clear that every sovereign will have theirs, no matter how pure or just. He approaches the subject other ways as well. For one, even if you can control man's speech, you can never control his thoughts. Though I suppose he never saw the modern communist state. And that free speech and thought contribute to advances in science. Finally, the oppression that may currently be in favor of a person can suddenly turn against them. These are all true statements, but my issue is this: he doesn't start from a priori values. Of course advances in science, political stability, and personal freedom are good things. Or, are they? I would venture that billions of people would disagree not only with Spinoza's method or conclusions, but even his base assumptions. I agree that all three of those things are desirous (well, put me down for half on personal freedoms), but the case needs to be made more clearly.

I found it interesting that he writes no man may wholly transfer his disposition to another, even in theory. You may submit to a contract, but never abdicate your right to think. I suppose this seems straightforward. In his next paragraph, however, he states that it is accepted that men's minds may be so controlled by another's that it could be said to be not his own. I don't see how those two statements can be mutually correct. With sufficient persuasive power over another, rendered more easy by years of indoctrination, I don't see how it could be said that that person retains their mental freedom. I would argue that a truly indoctrinated North Korean, or Soviet, or Chinese party official has lost their freedom of speech, in that they have been rigidly directed towards a beneficial (to the government) outcome.

But if this argument can be said, are we not all perhaps 'slaves' to others? I don't think anyone would argue that we are shaped by our environment. But to what extent does shaping become enslaving? If there is even one mental state that I may no longer experience due to the influence of those around me, am I any less enslaved than a North Korean? How can we measure the magnitude of lost thoughts and experiences?

Even more chilling: is a truly free thinker possible? Is such a man desirable? Could he be virtuous, or perhaps could he be evil?

Ancient Checks and Balances

Today, Spinoza served up a heavy dose of ancient Hebrew politics. I thought he wrote very clearly on this subject and I would like to reflect upon it.

He first defined theocracy. That the ancient Hebrew state was a pure theocracy, God being the head of state. I immediately thought of the modern famous theocracy - Iran. I don't know much about Iranian politics, but I would doubt they are a true theocracy. I don't believe the people have entered into a covenant with Allah, and sworn to serve him as devotees and citizens alike. I wonder just how different the two governments are.

But the meat of this section, as it pertains to this post at least, was on the political setup after Moses' death. The high priests alone could interpret God's word. However, they could only do it when the Generals of each of the 12 tribes requested it. And the tribes were never confederated - they acted as individuals, sometimes allying and sometimes fighting, but always as individual tribes. I suppose the Romans and earlier empires also had such checks and balances, but the Hebrews must have been the first to shrug off a despotic system.

The last part of the book covers why the first instance of the Hebrew state ended. It essentially boils down to people losing faith in the government. They wanted a seat at the table but couldn't have one, and so they ended up tearing the state apart from the inside. The way Spinoza addressed this issue was actually quite Machiavellian in terms of style.

Can a true theocracy ever exist? I don't think so. The opportunity for corruption is simply too obvious. This seems to be the case with many of the Middle Eastern countries. In principle there is nothing wrong with the idea. A pure theocracy would require active participation by God, leading the state and giving orders and laws. This seems unlikely. A modern theocracy could, however, simply be built around worship and right action. I see no reason why that couldn't work. If you could find an honest, righteous group of people to lead the government, that is.

I wonder if that supports Hobbes' notions of man's nature that good governments simply don't just develop. Good men just don't get that far. I can't see this being ingrained corruption either, because a really just man would endure whatever he had to to get his high position, and would then enact beneficial reforms. You just don't see that happening. Maybe it is true that power corrupts. Or maybe man is inherently evil, and it is only the exceptional man who can follow the straight and narrow.

What is treason?

Whatever his reason be for acting, the crime is treason. - Spinoza

I had to read over this particular atomic argument again. He makes the case that a man commits treason when he tries to usurp sovereignty after he has already forfeited his rights to another, namely the state. More concretely, a man who has entered into a covenant and become part of society no longer has the right to make the decisions (unless he were the sovereign, of course). This is all very Hobbesian, and Spinoza actually seems to have very similar political views (except he is not nearly so pessimistic on human nature). A man who thus is a citizen of a state is treasonous if he tries to take that state's power for himself.

A few seconds' contemplation will confirm the usual definition of treason. A soldier who gives up his army's position or intentions is clearly trying to usurp the power of making strategic and diplomatic decisions. He is rightfully called a traitor (I wonder if that word comes from the same root as treason...). However, Spinoza then goes out to argue that even the positive act can be a treasonous. A vigilante soldier who defies his commander and advances alone to kill the enemy is also a traitor - he too wants to usurp power from his generals and government officials.

I suppose here the ambiguity of language certainly plays a part. I see where Spinoza is going with his argument. The well-intentioned misbehavior is just as detrimental to order as the badly-intentioned misbehavior - perhaps even moreso. As a military officer, I truly agree that both types of insubordination have negative consequences. However I'm not sure you would call the well-meaning man treasonous. Treason has a certain definition, and it doesn't necessarily just mean insubordinate. I associate nuance with the word. Miriam-Webster defines treason as 1. betrayal of trust, but 2. the overt act of trying to overthrow a government. I would argue that most (English-speaking) people associate treason with negative betrayal.

But I suppose this is a semantic argument at beast. The treatise wasn't written in English, and ideas do get muddled in translation.

And after some research - yes, traitor and treason share a root in the Latin 'traditor'.

Can values be objective?

A thing is called sacred and Divine when it is designed for promoting piety, and continues sacred so long as it is religiously used: if the users cease to be pious, the thing ceases to be sacred: if it be turned to base uses, that which was formerly sacred becomes unclean and profane. - Spinoza, Theologico-Political Treatise, Chapter XII.

It's pretty obvious Spinoza was talking about religion here. I'll leave that commentary to more learned men (or at least myself at another time). But this passage made me reflect on what any object's meaning really is. Specifically, the value we attach to things. Is not all value just ephemeral? Can any value truly, truly be objective? If you extrapolate this out somewhat, values are types of adjectives in the sense that squares are types of shapes. Well, is there such thing as an objective adjective? I suppose you'd have to really reach towards solipsism to answer that affirmatively, but it's thought provoking. I wonder to what extent adjectives, and returning to my original argument, values can be objective. That is, permanent and part of the object.

I immensely value some of my things, and act rather carelessly towards others. This I suppose could be an externalization of my valuation of those things, similar to how Spinoza values some religious objects above others, based on how they are currently used. It seems wrong to think of my values and valued objects as only thoughts, temporary thoughts. I value my car, for instance, and my computer and my books and my video games. Are they only valuable so far as I derive happiness from them? Seems like an easily answerable 'yes', but not so fast. You could certainly say my books are valuable even beyond the value they bring to me. Hence, is there a universal approach I am missing? I feel as though these questions have already been addressed in previous readings, but I have been to boneheaded to realize it, or at least to internalize it.

I am now reading a very promising book on how food shaped world history. Only up through the second chapter, but it's very potent stuff. One of the seemingly more minor details was that carrots were originally white and purple - only in the sixteenth century did Dutch horticulturists produce an orange version, which stuck. I couldn't care less what color my carrots are, but this is interesting stuff. How many other 'natural' foods are anything but? Corn and wheat have also been addressed in this book, along with rice to an extent. But other produce? Meat? I wonder what it would have been like to eat a hamburger made a few millenia ago. Or what a salad would have tasted like. These are probably very first-world suburban questions, but that's life.

I'll close with another gem from Spinoza. It being the object of the Bible to make men not learned, but obedient.

On Scriptural Authorship

I managed to wade through three chapters of Spinoza tonight, fairly proud of that. The only thing that really jumps at me is his lengthy speculation on the literal truth of Scripture, which I found agreeable and persuasive. These views are surely part of why he was excommunicated, but I think they are much less revolutionary today.  His main claim is that the Pentateuch was not written by Moses, but by a later historian, specifically Aben Ezra. He also discusses the literal vs. figurative meaning of many Biblical verses and how we can reconcile them. He is considerably more succinct in his religious discussions than Hobbes was (will be, Spinoza predates him), which I am certainly in favor of. What I have read so far indicates I will probably buy his other famous work, Ethics.

I did manage to finish Friedman's book. It was a bit airy and light on content, but I think my overall impression of the book was good. Unfortunately, much of what he was writing about is already outdated after 4 years, but I don't fault the author for the passage of time. I don't know where my next random nonfiction will come from. I was considering a biography, but I will see what is cheap for the Nook over the coming days. I would also like to finish Murchie so I don't mind being a book down for a bit. In the meantime, I have been reading Red Badge of Courage. This is a continuation, somewhat, of my yesteryear push to read more classics and become a consumer of culture. Turns out there's a lot of classics out there, but the good news is they're free to read and, coincidentally, books that have been popular for years tend to be pretty decent. Sort of like an infallible testing process.

I bought a PS3 this past weekend, which of course can be nothing but a hindrance to my quest for knowledge. So to offset that time loss, I try to hit the random article button on Wikipedia on a semi-regular basis. I got taken both yesterday and today to rice production. I was unaware that at the turn of the century (this century), the US was the third largest net exporter of rice. It's grown in the 'rice belt' (Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, and Arkansas) as well as a couple other states. Thailand is the number one exporter, with over a quarter of the world's market share as of ten years ago. Surprising for such a small country, though I suppose their infrastructure is probably better as a whole. I like learning stuff like this, general knowledge. I like to think of it as acquiring puzzle pieces. The more pieces you get, the more likely it is you can fit a couple of them together and see something new. 

On Miracles

Got through Chapter 6 of Tractatus Theologico-Politicus tonight. On Miracles. I found Spinoza to be essentially writing down my exact views, though in a bit more flowery language. Miracles are not interruptions of the natural order of things; on the contrary, they are only possible within the framework of natural laws. Nature is an extension of God's will, and so any projections of God's will must necessarily cooperate with the laws he has set down. Any interpretation of miracles as anything more is the hallmark of misunderstanding. I suppose this might explain why there haven't been the same frequency of miracles as it has been indicated existed a few thousand years ago. Spinoza seems to believe that Scripture was specifically written this way in order to capture the minds of the less educated, who would not be likely to use reason in their approach to religion. It is up to the educated man to reason out this principles, with Spinoza's help of course. I don't believe this approach is much different than Descartes'. In a future time I'll have time to compare the two. More likely, someone has already written a book on it.

Portuguese is going, but I find myself neglecting it in favor of reading. I've been on a push to finish my normal nonfiction book (The World is Flat by Friedman). I was making pitiful progress in it and decided I didn't want to kick it around for the next year. I also want to finish Murchie, if only to free up that second philosophy slot for another book. It's almost time to order a new set, too. I tried to start a habit of expanding my knowledge on the arts by reading a Wikipedia article per day, but I simply don't have the time to commit to that. Perhaps if I don't mind skipping a day here and there, it will become a more realistically achievable goal.

Back to Enlightenment

Began reading Spinoza today. I can already see why he was excommunicated and banned. I couldn't help but think as I read that so many years were wasted during the Enlightenment, not to mention the centuries before. Most of what I have read from that age is just one author trying to out-praise the others. And the only Enlightenment reading I do is established philosophy. If only 15 centuries weren't wasted between 300 and 1800. I have heard that the Library of Alexandria was rumored to contain a working steam engine. If only that knowledge hadn't been lost! I suppose this is an extension of my angst over so many valuable Stoic texts being lost through the ages. I weep for the Ubermensch we could have become if so much hadn't been lost.

On a brighter note, I re-engaged with Portuguese. I downloaded all the lessons I'm listening to right now to my iPod and can now play them on my way to and from work. Takes about 12 minutes to get through everything. 10 plays a week should definitely increase my familiarity with the difficult pronunciation. And as I increase my vocabulary (already up to 300 or so words) I think future lessons will come faster to me. 

Back to Stoicism

Well, I finished Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Frankly, I'm glad. There wasn't anything comment-worthy over the last few nights of reading, and now I can move on to bigger and better things. The editor thoughtfully included some critical reviews of Nietzsche in the back of the book - I'm comforted with how many others also agree that there are better philosophers out there. It is not that Nietzsche doesn't have good ideas, it's just that I think his presentation is ineffective.

I ordered six new books , two of which should arrive as early as tomorrow, so I can start on them after I get through Descartes, which has been waiting patiently on my nightstand. I ordered Schopenhauer's Essays, Kant's Critique of Practical Reason, Spinoza's Theologico-Political Treatise, all 4 volumes of The Discourses by Epictetus, and a commentary on stoicism. I am quite looking forward to getting back to stoicism - the commentary will perhaps be the first that I pick up.

As I continue to learn Portuguese, though already and perhaps unfortunately I am focusing more on vocabulary and grammar, I am vexed by the thought that I didn't pay Russian enough attention. Perhaps I could develop it more - but do I really have time for two languages? I am barely making progress in Portuguese. At the moment I think all I can try for is to pay a little closer attention to the Russian I expose myself to everyday. If only I had learned to listen, it would be so much easier to maintain...