Up@dawn 2.0

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Being 97

Herbert Fingarette (1921-2018) -
...He enrolled at the University of California intending to major in chemistry, but most of his experiments were flops. He was drafted into the Army and, after serving during World War II, mostly at the Pentagon, returned to the university. There he was captivated by a Bertrand Russell lecture on David Hume and decided to major in philosophy, earning a bachelor’s degree in 1947 and a doctorate in 1949...
“Never in my life will I experience death,” he wrote. “I will never know an end to my life, this life of mine right here on earth.” He added: “People hope never to know the end of consciousness. But why merely hope? It’s a certainty. They never will!”
In other words, he agreed with Epicurus. (Being an Epicurean to the end, though, is not so easy.)

In this film by his grandson he admits that it's harder, at age 97, to be consoled by the Epicurean dismissal of death...



An aging philosopher returns to the essential question: ‘What is the point of it all?’

‘Being 97 has been an interesting experience.’

By the time of his death, the US philosopher Herbert Fingarette (1921-2018) had lived what most would consider a full and meaningful life. His marriage to his wife, Leslie, was long and happy. His career as professor of philosophy at the University of California, Santa Barbara was both accomplished and controversial – his book Heavy Drinking (1988), which challenged the popular understanding of alcoholism as a progressive disease, was met with criticism in the medical and academic communities. In a later book, Death: Philosophical Soundings (1999), Fingarette contemplated mortality, bringing him to a conclusion that echoed the Epicureans: in non-existence, there is nothing to fear. But as Being 97 makes evident, grappling with death can be quite different when the thoughts are personal rather than theoretical. Filmed during some of the final months of Fingarette’s life, the elegiac short documentary profiles the late philosopher as he reflects on life, loss, the many challenges of old age, and those lingering questions that might just be unanswerable.


Director: Andrew Hasse

Producer: Megan Brooks

Website: FTRMGC18 February, 2019

Exiting religion, finding a life

Michael Shermer with Amber Scorah — Leaving the Witness: Exiting a Religion and Finding a Life

Leaving the Witness: Exiting a Religion and Finding a Life  (book cover)
In this revealing conversation Amber Scorah opens the box into the psychology of religious belief to show how, exactly, religions and cults convince members that theirs is the one true religion, to the point, she admits, that she would have gladly died for her faith. As a third-generation Jehovah’s Witness, Amber Scorah had devoted her life to sounding God’s warning of impending Armageddon. She volunteered to take the message to China, where the preaching she did was illegal and could result in her expulsion or worse. Here, she had some distance from her community for the first time. Immersion in a foreign language and culture — and a whole new way of thinking — turned her world upside down, and eventually led her to lose all that she had been sure was true. As a proselytizer in Shanghai, using fake names and secret codes to evade the authorities’ notice, Scorah discreetly looked for targets in public parks and stores. To support herself, she found work at a Chinese language learning podcast, hiding her real purpose from her coworkers. Now with a creative outlet, getting to know worldly people for the first time, she began to understand that there were other ways of seeing the world and living a fulfilling life. When one of these relationships became an “escape hatch,” Scorah’s loss of faith culminated in her own personal apocalypse, the only kind of ending possible for a Jehovah’s Witness. Shunned by family and friends as an apostate, Scorah was alone in Shanghai and thrown into a world she had only known from the periphery — with no education or support system. A coming of age story of a woman already in her thirties, this unforgettable memoir examines what it’s like to start one’s life over again with an entirely new identity. Scorah and Shermer also discuss:
  • the legals and logistics of writing a memoir
  • the rise of the nones and disbelief and why stories like hers provide social proof for living without religion
  • what Jehovah’s Witnesses believe and why they believe it
  • what it’s like to go door-to-door witnessing for a religion
  • Armageddon and what doomsayers do when the world doesn’t end
  • the mindset of the fundamentalist
  • why religions are obsessed with female sexuality
  • why religions forbid homosexuality
  • the psychology of deconversion
  • the problem of evil, or why bad things happen to good people
  • how she would try to talk someone out of joining ISIS
  • what it’s like to be expelled from a religion and be an apostate, and
  • how to start your life over when you’ve lost everything.
Amber Scorah is a writer living in Brooklyn, NY. Her articles have been published in The New York TimesThe Believer, and USA Today. Prior to coming to New York, Scorah lived in Shanghai, where she was creator and host of the podcast Dear Amber: An Insider’s Guide to Everything China. Leaving the Witness is her first book.
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Monday, December 30, 2019

Our material

I'm reading "A Thousand Small Sanities: The Moral Adventure of Liberalism" by Adam Gopnik...

"What Smith took from Hume’s demonstration of the limits of reason, the absurdity of superstition, and the primacy of the passions was not a lesson of Buddhist-Stoical indifference but something more like a sense of Epicurean intensity—if we are living in the material world, then let us make it our material."

Start reading this book for free: http://a.co/0Zm39FO

Sunday, December 29, 2019

Joyce's "Portrait"

James Joyce's (books by this authorA Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man was published on this date in 1916. It tells the story of Stephen Dedalus, Joyce's alter ego, as he grows up and eventually rejects his religion and his culture.
Early in the book, Dedalus is a young schoolboy, and by the novel's end, Stephen Dedalus has grown up, and grown cynical, and is about to leave his Dublin home for Paris. He tells a friend: "I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile and cunning."
Finally, Dedalus writes in his journal: "Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race."

Wednesday, December 25, 2019

Merry tilt

Thursday, December 19, 2019

The art of dying

New Yorker art critic Peter Schjeldahl has written an affecting rumination on life, in the shadow of his terminal cancer diagnosis. ("The Art of Dying," Dec. 23 issue).

It includes an insight into his own charitable approach to "uncongenial" art works that might be usefully applied to his personal religiosity as well.
I retain, but suspend, my personal taste to deal with the panoply of the art I see. I have a trick for doing justice to an uncongenial work: “What would I like about this if I liked it?” I may come around; I may not. Failing that, I wonder, What must the people who like this be like? Anthropology.
A few short paragraphs later,
“I believe in God” is a false statement for me because it is voiced by my ego, which is compulsively skeptical. But the rest of me tends otherwise. Staying on an “as if” basis with “God,” for short, hugely improves my life. I regret my lack of the church and its gift of community. My ego is too fat to squeeze through the door.
Disbelieving is toilsome. It can be a pleasure for adolescent brains with energy to spare, but hanging on to it later saps and rigidifies. After a Lutheran upbringing, I became an atheist at the onset of puberty. That wore off gradually and then, with sobriety, speedily.
I don't like this. But, out of respect for the dying and for the vaunted varieties of religious and scientific experience, I suppress my initial uncharitable impulse  and ask: What would I like about this if I liked it? And, What must the people who like this be like?

People who find disbelief "toilsome" and "adolescent" have obviously had a different experience than I. But I'm prepared to respect it, and them, if only they can evince just a little more respect for people like me.

Let's all stop talking about outgrowing either religion or irreligion, respectively, and admit that it takes all kinds. Neither attitude necessarily implicates the (dis)believer as an excessive egoist or rigid dogmatist.

In his penultimate paragraph Schjeldahl says
God creeps in. Human minds are the universe’s only instruments for reflecting on itself. The fact of our existence suggests a cosmic approval of it. (Do we behave badly? We are gifted with the capacity to think so.) We may be accidents of matter and energy, but we can’t help circling back to the sense of a meaning that is unaccountable by the application of what we know. If God is a human invention, good for us! We had to come up with something.
One of the themes of our Atheism & Philosophy course this coming semester will be the search for meaning, and the thesis that we didn't have to come up with God to come up with it.

The final paragraph I can wholeheartedly endorse:
Take death for a walk in your minds, folks. Either you’ll be glad you did or, keeling over suddenly, you won’t be out anything.

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Monday, December 16, 2019

How Should 21st-Century Readers Approach the Bible?

Faith and Reasons

To the Editor, nyt:

In his review of Karen Armstrong’s “The Lost Art of Scripture: Rescuing the Sacred Texts” (Dec. 1), Nicholas Kristof includes a quote from Armstrong: “Because its creation myths do not concur with recent scientific discoveries, militant atheists have condemned the Bible as a pack of lies, while Christian fundamentalists have developed a ‘Creation science’ claiming that the Book of Genesis is scientifically sound.”

As an atheist who dealt repeatedly with creationists as they attempted to force their myth into the science curriculum, I can attest that I have never viewed Genesis as “a pack of lies.” Rather, I view it as ancient fiction.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines a lie as “a false statement made with intent to deceive.” Those who constructed the Genesis account of creation could not have known that their story was false by the scientific standards we now hold. Modern religious zealots who still promulgate scriptural creation myths as true when they know better are, however, a different matter. They, indeed, are guilty of lying.

Joseph D. McInerney
Lutherville, Md.

The writer is a past president of the National Association of Biology Teachers and a former director of the Biological Sciences Curriculum Study.



To the Editor:

Assuming (whether that’s valid or not) the literal meaning of the Scriptures, Christianity is incompatible with existing class-structured societies — and capitalism. In the Acts of the Apostles, God favored the poor and socialism. But with the rise of capitalism and Calvinism in the 16th century, he changed his mind and decided it was the wealthy he favored. Try to reconcile “Blessed are the poor” with capitalism. Or “Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor.”

Roger Carasso
Santa Fe, N.M.



To the Editor:

Elaine Pagels’s review of Jack Miles’s “Religion as We Know It: An Origin Story” (Dec. 1) cites Miles’s praise of Mark C. Taylor’s contention that “what is often termed the disappearance of God, or the disappearance of the sacred, in modernity, is actually the integration of that aspect of human experience with the rest of modern experience.”

Taylor’s argument reminds me of a contention Nicholas Wade made in “Before the Dawn.” He wrote that “modern states now accomplish by other means many of the early roles performed by religion, which is why religion has become of less relevance in some societies. But because the propensity for religious belief is still wired into the human mind, religion continues to be a potent force in societies that still struggle for cohesion.”

Charlotte Adelman
Wilmette, Ill.

Wednesday, December 11, 2019

The secular faith of Martin Hägglund.

“What’s missing in the work of Richard Dawkins is social justice”

Jovial, clean-cut and impeccably tailored, Martin Hägglund has been hailed as “the most important young philosopher in America”. Born in Sweden in 1976, he is now professor of comparative literature and humanities at Yale. When I meet him for coffee at the British Library in London, he arrives exuding all the cool serenity of someone enjoying great success.

The previous evening, he had spoken before a sell-out crowd at the London School of Economics about his book, This Life: Why Mortality Makes Us Free, a philosophical tour de force. The premise of the book is simple, if unnerving: “life can matter only in light of death”, and that an eternal life is not only unattainable, it is undesirable. “Far from making my life meaningful,” Hägglund writes, “eternity would make it meaningless, since my actions would have no purpose.”

If the religious idea of salvation inhibits commitment to the here and now, displacing questions of the good life to an unknown great beyond, it is finitude – “the sense of the ultimate fragility of everything we care about” – that is at the heart of what Hägglund calls “secular faith”.

For Hägglund, spiritual questions of freedom are indivisible from economic and material conditions. To be free, he says, is not to be sovereign or liberated from all constraints, but to be able to ask ourselves what we ought to do with our time. “Only in light of the apprehension that we will die – that our lifetime is indefinite but finite – can we ask ourselves what we ought to do with our lives and put ourselves at stake in our activities.”

Elaborating his theory of secular faith through bold and original readings of thinkers ranging from Dante and CS Lewis to Marx and Martin Luther King Jr, Hägglund concludes with a compelling defence of democratic socialism that would allow us to choose what we ought to do with our time and thus be truly free.

Hägglund is part of a younger generation of thinkers eager to engage general readers. “I wanted to write a book that had maximum ambition and minimal alibis. I didn’t want to sacrifice philosophical rigour, but nor did I want to rely on arcane jargon.”

Like the existentialist works of the mid-20th century, This Life is a stirring reminder about philosophy’s power to move and disturb as well as illuminate. “Philosophy is about making explicit what is already implicit in the lives that we are leading,” Hägglund says, “to deepen and provide ways of articulating the intuitions people have about life.”

If there is a growing intuition that people have had over the past decade, it is that capitalism no longer ensures our collective happiness or individual well-being. One reason Hägglund’s book has been received so well is because of the interest in post-capitalist futures. “The book definitely became timelier as I was writing it,” he says. “When I started five years ago my editor kept saying, ‘you can’t use the phrase “democratic socialism”.’ That was telling, because we now live in a moment when fundamental questions about how we should live and work together and organise our societies are being posed everywhere.”

Although Hägglund grew up during the zenith of Swedish social democracy, he does not consider that as having influenced his thinking or political beliefs.

Nor is his notion of secular faith mounted in solidarity with the so-called New Atheists, for whom he has little regard. “What’s missing in the work of Richard Dawkins, for example, is any consideration of social injustice; of what freedom and equality demand of us. And while they want to debunk the idea of an eternal life, I’m asking: is eternal life even desirable?”

Hägglund’s greater preoccupation is to challenge the notion of freedom that has dominated Western thinking since it was first articulated by Thomas Hobbes in the 17th-century. “People have a negative conception of freedom,” Hägglund says. “They want freedom from things: from constraints, from dependence, from anxiety.”

For most people, to be free is about “being released from the drudgery of their everyday lives”, which explains the popularity of trends such as the wellness industry.

“Finding peace of mind through meditation – that’s fine as a means of engaging with your life,” Hägglund says, “but when it becomes an end in itself… that suggests something is wrong with how our shared lives are working out.”

Hägglund defends a more positive concept of liberty in which freedom is about “engaging, to put yourself at stake, to care about something that can be lost”. His central message, one that is strikingly apt for an age of accelerating climate catastrophe, is ultimately that “none of us can sustain our lives on our own”.

He goes on: “Mutual recognition has to commit us to sustain those who sustain us. To be free is not to be liberated from all constraints but to be able to affirm the relations with others on which we all depend.”

But are we ready to embrace finitude; to shape our lives around the fact that in the long run we are all dead? Hägglund is clear that it is not about overcoming the anxiety of death, often the aim of philosophy since the Ancients, “but owning that anxiety and seeing how it is intrinsic to anything that matters and your ability to ask yourself what’s worth doing with your life”.

Secular faith is not about embracing death but affirming mortal life. “There are no guarantees that life won’t be shattering. But a life wouldn’t be what it is without having that vulnerability attached to it.”

Friday, December 6, 2019

Neuroscience's Flummery

Defeated by the “hard problem” of consciousness, the field postulates one improbable theory after another.

I Me Mind

OUT OF MY HEAD: ON THE TRAIL OF CONSCIOUSNESS BY TIM PARKS. NEW YORK: NEW YORK HARVILL SECKER. 320 PAGES. $19.
THE SPREAD MIND: WHY CONSCIOUSNESS AND THE WORLD ARE ONE BY RICCARDO MANZOTTI. NEW YORK: OR BOOKS. 304 PAGES. $24.
RETHINKING CONSCIOUSNESS: A SCIENTIFIC THEORY OF SUBJECTIVE EXPERIENCE BY MICHAEL S A GRAZIANO. NEW YORK: NORTON. 256 PAGES. $29.
THE HARD PROBLEM, DAVID CHALMERS CALLS IT: Why are the physical processes of the brain “accompanied by an experienced inner life?” How and why is there something it is like to be you and me, in Thomas Nagel’s formulation? I’ve been reading around in the field of consciousness studies for over two decades—Chalmers, Nagel, Daniel Dennett, John Searle, Jerry Fodor, Ned Block, Frank Jackson, Paul and Patricia Churchland, Alva Noë, Susan Blackmore—and the main thing I’ve learned is that no one has the slightest idea. Not that the field lacks for confident pronouncements to the contrary.
Briefly stated, the problem is that the world appears to contain two very different kinds of stuff—mind and body, for which Descartes posited two substances, res cogitans and res extensa. The mind is not physical, not extended in space. The body and everything else are made of physical substance and located in space. Substance dualism is out of fashion these days, but some philosophers (including Chalmers) are property dualists, who believe consciousness is an emergent property, a kind of ghostly accompaniment to physical reality. Some go so far as to embrace panpsychism, the doctrine that consciousness pervades all things; others think that mind just comes along with certain complex physical objects (brains) without being reducible to them. Chalmers sees consciousness as “a movie playing inside your head,” and this first-person experience is what needs to be explained.
Most neuroscientists and many philosophers view either form of dualism as hocus pocus. How, for one thing, do the mental and physical orders interact? A complete description of consciousness will be, on this view, a physical description of brain states: the absurdly complex interactions of neurons, axons, glia, synapses, “a trillion mindless robots dancing,” as arch-physicalist Dennett has it. For Dennett, the brain produces a “user illusion” that you’re in control, but in fact it’s running the show. You’re a robot, and the movie theater is empty.
All the above positions are rejected by the Italian philosopher and psychologist Riccardo Manzotti in his theory of “the spread mind,” set forth in his 2017 volume of that title, also called “the mind-object identity theory.” The idea is easy enough to state, if not to comprehend: All experience is perception, and all perception is physical objects. Experience is not experience of something, it just is that thing. The term “spread mind” was suggested by the British novelist Tim Parks, whose new book is a ramshackle tour of Manzotti’s theory, or at least of his attempts to understand it and explain it to other people... (continues)