Humanist institutions

Time to keep pushing this one!

Neil said: “Why is it necessary to have “special” institutions that pass on humanistic belief? Surely it would be done from a humanist to his family, his workplace – sounds like evangelism! Schools and Universities would be the best example of humanist/secular “institutions”. Art and Media is then influenced by humanism, which we see presented on television, the internet, etc etc. So there’s no humanist churches. And there’s no special humanist “institution”, but does that mean that humanistic beliefs and attitudes do not influence society at large?”

If I might say so, this is a classically Protestant response!! But what I wanted to pick up on was the example of universities. These do indeed have a particular aim and ethos, and they are very good at instilling particular practices and habits in the students that attend (and later teach) at such institutions. So they could be called – with a nod to Robert M Pirsig – the ‘Church of Reason’. I would even go so far as to accept that they teach particular virtues, eg commitment to the truth and to honesty in research (which, by the by, shows up one of the dependencies of “scientific” research on moral culture). Yet would it be generally accepted that the universities produce people who are ‘more moral’ or ‘more good’ than the average? To go back to Scott’s summary of my quest, “I want to know where humanism is building up society in such a way that more people will tend to do good rather than evil.”

In addition to that, the universities and schools, especially in this country, are obviously dependent upon the Christian tradition for their founding and initial establishments and ethos. What is a) the distinctive humanist contribution to academic study, and b) what is the benefit to the good of society from that contribution.

The same thing applies in other fields. Think of hospitals and medical care generally – where, again, the Christian influence is pretty explicit. In terms of training of nurses or doctors today there are certainly institutions which – in theory – can shape people to work for the good of society. But what does humanism bring to this? Especially now, when the UK health care system has been overrun by the meddling mediocrities from Whitehall, and what matters is the meeting of some abstract ‘target’ rather than the healing of an individual person. (And there are issues lurking behind this as well, to do with the healing of the whole person rather than simply the ‘broken mechanism’ of their body).

Where is the humanist institution that is concerned with creating better people? (And it begs the question: what are people FOR?)

Pursuing humanism

Let’s run with this a little longer as both Scott (Gray) and Neil (OSO) think I’m being unfair to humanists.

Firstly, I’m not aware of any theoretical reason why a humanist culture is necessarily incapable of sustaining long term moral endeavour and improvement. My concern is a practical one, ie that I’m not aware of this sustaining being done in this culture. (“This culture” mainly referring to the UK, but not excluding the other Anglo-Saxon societies).

Secondly, this point is one about religious belief over against secular thought. In other words it isn’t something that hangs on the specific beliefs advocated by Christianity. Confucianism, for example, is more than adequate to foster the social goods that concern me, and the theologies of Christianity and Confucianism (if the latter could be said to have a theology!) are very distinct.

Thirdly the existence of humanists who do good things is insufficient to answer my concern. We can all agree on the existence of such wonderful people; conversely we can also agree on the existence of wicked people who happen to be religious believers. The question is about what fosters the goodness and inhibits or reforms the badness.

Fourthly, this is a separate point to the one of accountability (hence a separate post). Whether humanism can coherently give an account of its accountability is to my mind an open question (I’m pretty sure it can’t) but that’s not the concern here.

The issue is this: the mainstream of Christianity demonstrably cultivates the virtues, be they compassion, a desire for social justice, a commitment to the truth, and so on. These virtues are developed through the adoption of particular practices which embody them, and cohere through the telling of stories and sharing of expertise. There are institutions which exist to, amongst other things, foster this moral development. In Christian terms it is called discipleship; doubtless there are equivalent terms in the other religious faiths.

My point is that I am not aware of institutions which cultivate the development and amplification of a moral sense, with associated practices and disciplines, within this country, of a humanistic form. I repeat, such things are not at all impossible. They seem to have existed in Ancient Greece (the gymnasia). I just want to know – where are they? (It’s also perfectly possible that there are many such institutions, and this post is merely parading my ignorance of them).

Hence my comment in the original post, that humanism is drawing on the bank balance built up by centuries of Christian teaching. I want to know where humanism is putting money in.

(For those familiar with him, the influence of Alasdair MacIntyre should be obvious!)

To what are humanists accountable?

I wanted to pick this element out from Ian’s comments, where he said: “To what is a humanist accountable ? … to humanity what else … and rest of the living cosmos. (which would merge with your view, on Pantheistic territory). The balance of freedoms (from) with responsibilities (to).”

Firstly – and for the record(!) – I’m not a pantheist!!! Once upon a time I might have accepted the label ‘panentheist’ but these days I’m more sceptical of all those metaphysical systems and am content with ‘Christian’.

However, the key question I want to pursue is: what does it mean to say that a humanist is accountable to humanity? Is that a democratically defined good? Or is there some other sort of value at stake here? If so, how is it pursued, how are conflicts reconciled, how is it explicated and communicated? In other words, what is the distinctive way in which a humanist cultivates the virtue of “humanity” in themselves and in their friends and neighbours? All these things are front and centre in a religious tradition, but seem absent from humanist (and atheist) discourse, on the whole. Humanism seems to be drawing on the bank balance built up by religious believers without paying anything back – which is why our society is now morally bankrupt and heading rapidly down the toilet.

Sorry for the rant, but I’m really interested in pursuing this aspect.

A response to Davidov on Godtalk

Click full post for text.

My responses in italics.

Your post leaves me with two fundamental questions. First, the ideas you refer to would by some be called moral sense, sense of purpose and reflection respectively. What is a humanist missing if they have the same feelings but ascribe a different source? If they are not missing something (like a God which exists separately from our attitudes to him) isn’t religion just a choice rooted only in the subject’s personal views?

I think there is a lot of overlap. Not surprising as I also believe that all humanity is made in the image of God. Yet I would say that a religious perspective completes that which is only partial in a humanist perspective. In particular I think that what a religious perspective brings is a sense of the coherence and purpose that exists outside of the preferences of the individual. You could say: a religious perspective includes an accountability that is (usually) absent from a humanist perspective (for to what would a humanist be accountable?).

Secondly, where does this conception of God leave the basic understanding of Christianity common in our society?

I don’t have a dog in that race. That is, it is manifestly clear to me that “the basic understanding of Christianity common in our society” is mistaken.

Did God “create” the world?

Yes.

Can prayers be answered by God changing things?

I’m still thinking this one through, but I’m more minded to say yes than no.

Has any miracle, including those in the Bible, ever happened?

Short answer is yes, but I think your using a particular understanding of miracle here. Have you ever read this post?

What does life after death mean?

Something other than eternal life, usually.

Is there some external entity which forgives our sins if we repent?

This sounds like you’re asking if God is a being.

In what way was Christ more than a prophet?

He was raised from the dead.

If none of this follows the traditional path (God created and cares about the world and sent Christ to redeem us from sin) what plans does the Church have to tell people that they can safely put these ideas to one side?

I’m wholly in favour of the traditional path.

Can I add a third? Isn’t this conception of God reactive to the success of science since the Renaissance?

Not at all. Science isn’t that important; or, to put that differently, science is itself dependent upon theological assumptions.

Most highly educated theologians, who can’t just be dismissed, seem to have had very simple ideas of God until quite recently.

Sorry, that’s rubbish. Unless you’re using ‘simple’ in a technical sense, in which it’s a truism.

You say that atheists (not me btw) want the concept of God to be ridiculous. Aren’t they just challenging the concept of God common until science cast doubt on it?

If a 15 year old cannot adequately defend the concept of evolution against criticisms from well-informed creationists, does this make evolution false? Very little atheism that I am aware of takes theology seriously; someone like Dawkins is much happier with a summary dismissal. See the quote from Denys Turner here.

To take two C16th examples – can it be that this conception of God was really the one for which Cranmer, Lattimer and Ridley were burnt to death when they could so easily have obtained a pardon?

The Reformation martyrs weren’t put to death for their conception of God. At least I don’t think they were. It was much more to do with how Christianity was to be pursued relative to the authority of the central institutions.

What sort of oddball, in the face of such a subtle and difficult concept of God, could not accept an alternative view or that there would be no detriment for bending with the breeze? What sort of psycho would pass the sentence when hanging was an option for non-religious crimes?

Some truths are worth dying for; in other words, sometimes it is more life-giving to be killed for living IN the truth than to go on living apart from the truth.

A few more (1) Those who debated Henry VIII’s first divorce in the context of Leviticus said they thought his breach of the law explained why he had no sons. The Pope was petitioned for divorce. Did those petitioning him and the Pope know that the premise was false

Pass(!)

(2) Didn’t those who denounced Galileo do so because they believed the cosmology in the Bible was accurate.

See my posts here and here.

(3) The last execution for heresy in Britain was 1697. Surely those accusing and trying him believed that his critcism of eg miracles was in fact wrong. Surely they themselves believed in miracles.

You know more about this case than I do.

Two more recent examples – in the late C19 a debate was arranged in Oxford between a Darwinist and a … Bishop. The Church was seen as the relevant other side of the debate. The Bishop propounded the Biblical view of creation and poured scorn on the idea that he was related to a monkey. This is very recent and the Bishop was not an idiot. (A woman cried out in protest and fainted when the Darwinist told the Bishop to his face that he was indeed related to a monkey – what a very C19th scene).

To my mind both sides of this debate had become locked into a non-orthodox world view.

At a similar time another Bishop calculated that the world was c.7,000 years old based on Bible passages. This implies that he believed the Bible set out facts about creation which would withstand rational analysis.

Archbishop Ussher. See my comment immediately above – it’s an extremely late development, and this IS a reaction to Renaissance science.

Here is a challenge. Can you name a Bishop in the C of E or Catholic Church who said, even in private papers, before 1900, that no miracles happened or the Virgin Birth was a metaphor?

Well… I’m not saying that no miracles happen; I’m saying (in effect) that the understanding of miracles common today, and shaped by scientific philosophy, is misleading and non-Scriptural. The straight answer to your question would probably be ‘one of the 18th century deists’ but no name springs to mind.

Very happy to pursue this further, though as I write this I realise I’ve written quite a lot about this elsewhere.

What do I mean when I talk about God?

Click ‘full post’ for text.

First, possibly my all-time favourite Wittgenstein quotation:

‘I should like to say that … the words you utter or what you think as you utter them are not what matters, so much as the difference they make at various points in your life. How do I know that two people mean the same when each says he believes in God? And just the same goes for belief in the Trinity. A theology which insists on the use of *certain particular* words and phrases, and outlaws others, does not make anything clearer… It gesticulates with words, as one might say, because it wants to say something and does not know how to say it. Practice gives the words their sense’. (From ‘Culture and Value’, in remarks dated 1950. The passage as a whole I would like read at my funeral)

So what do I mean when I talk about ‘God’? It’s a troublesome word. It’s normally (that is, normally in non-Christian circles, and even in some that are Christian) understood to refer to a being, of supernatural origin, who acts and intervenes in the world. The God I believe in is not a being – because he is not a anything. God is not the member of a class – any class. So is the word ‘God’ a metaphor? Of course. We cannot capture God in our language; all attempts ultimately fail; and yet the attempt is edifying and enlarging. It is like climbing a ladder. In order to climb, one must first place all one’s weight upon a particular step, but to progress, one must abandon it completely.

I have found it very difficult to get atheists to understand that point. That could be because they have much invested in the concept of God remaining ridiculous.

So what do I mean when I talk about ‘God’? Several things, in no particular order other than the order I’ve thought of them.

Firstly I have a sense – I guess most people have a sense – of when I have started down a wrong path; or, conversely, when I am pursuing a right path. This could be compared to the physical sense of balance; or, an image I’ve used elsewhere, it is like the ’tilt’ mechanism on a pinball machine. I will sometimes use the word God to refer to that which is calling me into balance, or warning me against being off balance.

Related to this is the sense of vocation, that is, that I am on a path with a particular destination, and that I am being led along this path from moment to moment. I will talk about God in this context, as that which is illuminating my next steps – a lantern to my feet and a light upon my path. In this sense God is a lure – an active and intentional agent drawing me forwards.

This broadens out into something about intimacy and concern. The creativity and desire which is drawing me forward is personal; that is, I relate to it as I would to a person. I don’t normally have a conversation – not in the sense that I would have a conversation with another human being – but that I am communicated with is undeniable. Indeed, it’s routine, it’s a large part of my prayer life, listening to what God might have to say to me.

Sometimes I have visions. I distinguish these from daydreams and the routine permutations of my imagination by the sense of seriousness and conviction with which they seize me (not all are equally serious). When this happens I take these to be particular and specific messages from God.

Another aspect to this is to do with truth. There was an occasion recently when I realised that I was not speaking the truth (that is, I was not persuaded of something that I was arguing for). I was not IN the truth. When I reflect on a situation like this then the distinction between one set of attitudes, beliefs and propositions and another set is very strong, and one set will seem much more attractive and luminous. I will use the word God to talk about the difference between them. Most frequently this will involve some sort of personal interrogation about motives, and the process of illumination will often disinter some sort of personal hurt or bad habit or vice which is preventing me from living in, and listening to, the truth. In other words, discerning the truth is a spiritual task, and this is one of the most important ways in which God makes himself clear to me. Crucially, all that I refer to when I talk about God is independent of my own conscious will and desiring.

Finally, I would want to talk about God in the external world, as an agent in the world. God is not an agent like other agents, however; not a cause alongside other causes. Rather, God is the precondition for all things that are held in being. When I see God at work in the world what I am really saying is that here my eyesight has been clarified; I’m not saying anything all that specific about God. God does not specially ‘intervene’, for God is always present. What changes is in me.

Now, to gather some of these strands together, I would want to talk about that which is intimately involved in my life leading me forward into truth and life and integrity and with which I can communicate in a personal way. That’s what I mean when I talk about God. Yet there is one thing more. In the same way that as you walk into the light it becomes more possible to see, so too as I have slowly walked into the light of God, I have been more able – ever so slowly – to discern what God looks like. And He looks like this:

Gandalf, Gunpowder and Neil Gaiman’s cats

A follow up to ‘The Holiness of Stuart Staniford’.

Last week Zachary Nowak paid me the compliment of responding to my article ‘The Holiness of Stuart Staniford’. Nowak has written some very good articles about Peak Oil and the right way to respond to it (see here, here and here) and I should say up front that I would not class him as a ‘doomer’ in the sense I was referring to in my holiness article (or in this one). However, it might be worth pursuing the debate a bit further – and that will take me on a little detour, via Neil Gaiman, Gandalf and Oliver Cromwell….

What often seems to be at issue when considering a ‘doomer’ perspective is what it is reasonable to believe. Zachary writes ‘I simply would like to make the point that we realists (Oh fine, “we doomers”) think what we do because of our logical analysis of the facts…’ and he contrasts this with ‘the sentiment hope’, reinforcing the contrast with an erudite quotation from Thucydides. On this analysis, those who subscribe to hope are akin to the queen in Alice in Wonderland, who practices believing six impossible things before breakfast. I would submit that hovering behind Zachary’s perspective is a modernist understanding of knowledge (see this interview), whereby there are ‘hard facts’ which are intelligible separate from our own emotional reactions to that knowledge; and then there are ‘sentiments’ and emotions which aren’t quite up to scratch epistemologically and are really not suitable attitudes for a grown man to hold (sexism deliberate). From my point of view – which, depending on where you’re looking from can either be classified as pre- or post- modern – knowledge can’t be separated from our emotional engagement with the world, and hope is a virtue. Explaining that is the burden of this essay. But before going further I would want to emphasise the point which Zachary explicitly downplayed – my remark that I share in a ‘juvenile wish to see big explosions’ and, more strongly, ‘a deeply rooted hatred for the present order and a wish to see it destroyed’. I do have those feelings in me, and they are not trivial. I also have a horror of human suffering (it’s a part of what drives the hatred) so when I contemplate possible futures I can become greatly dispirited. What these arguments are really about, for me, is precisely an analysis of those parts of my nature and perspective – so whenever I talk about a ‘doomer’, or a ‘doomer perspective’ it should be understood that I am talking about an aspect of myself – I’m not wanting to set somebody else up for target practice. I find much of the argumentation proffered by ‘doomers’ convincing (in particular, I’m persuaded that we are most likely to experience an abrupt crash due to above-ground factors) – yet what gnaws away at me is also a sense that the doomer perspective hasn’t captured the whole truth – and that what the doomer perspective has missed is of tremendous and vital import.

So: on with what I want to say today.

It seems to me that in Peak Oil circles there are often two sorts of repeating arguments. The first we might call ‘anti-cornucopian’ – this is all about persuading people that Peak Oil is real, that it is serious, that it stands up to intellectual scrutiny in a way that the CERA-style analysis just doesn’t. The second we might call ‘anti-doomer’ – this is an in-house argument and, whilst it seems superficially the same as the first, ie it draws on much of the same material, it tends to get much more emotionally heated. I think we can put these attitudes on a spectrum, and we can label three hypothetical positions on that spectrum A, B and C:

————[A]—————[B]—————[C]———-


With regard to Peak Oil, A says ‘there is no problem’ and effectively does not see the same things as B and C; B says ‘there is a problem that’s likely to take these sorts of shapes’; C says ‘there is a problem and it will take this pattern’. And there are of course a vast number of different positions on the spectrum possible.

What I want to draw out is that, in argument with A, B and C would make exactly the same arguments – they would draw on the same analysis, the same geological investigations, the same historically observed data. There is, in short, a great deal of common ground between B and C; they would, it seems to me, precisely share what Zachary describes as a ‘logical analysis of the facts’. Yet there is nothing to stop B and C having an intense argument about what will happen in the future – and from my point of view this describes many of the arguments in the comment threads at the Oil Drum (a bit fewer than there used to be and, I should confess, I don’t tend to read the comment threads that often these days so this might be completely out of date. I’m sure people will know what I’m describing though.)

At this point it would be worth unpacking my definition: “The doomer perspective seems most characterised by an insistence that the future must take a particular shape, one constrained by the laws of physics and envisioning a necessary decline in human population as the inevitable corollary of the decline in available energy”, particularly what I mean by ‘constrained by the laws of physics’. The way in which our society has developed over the last several centuries means that the phrase ‘the laws of physics’ has become something of a totem in popular culture – it matches up to a distinctly Newtonian conception of science which is mechanistic and deterministic, and is heedless of the developments within physics itself over the last century or so. That’s what I was getting at, and this is what I think is most problematic in the doomer mentality, the idea that there is no room for free-will and human action to affect the future, and that there is nothing we can do to change the eventual outcome. This is what seems to me to lie behind the different perspectives between B and C – there is a different metaphysical assumption being made by the two parties. One has a deterministic framework; the other sees the future as open and malleable. It’s the insistence that our present predicament has only one possible outcome which, for me, defines the doomer perspective – and this is a metaphysical stance, not a scientific one (you could call it a religious standpoint, only one that would not be particularly holy in the Stuart Staniford sense I described before). What is at stake is whether the complex whole which is human life on this planet can adequately be described in a deterministic framework. This is not something which is open to a factual resolution – it’s metaphysics not physics – and I’m sure that this is why the debates are interminable, not least because people don’t tend to be aware that the conflict IS metaphysical.

Now – that’s a debate which I would find it fascinating to pursue, and I’d love to be involved in it, yet it might seem abstract and academic (in the bad senses of those words). I would argue, however, that there is something tremendously important at stake, and to explain this I want to talk about Neil Gaiman’s cats – specifically the cats in his story “A dream of a thousand cats”. Wikipedia has quite a good little summary: “This is a curious story concerning an inspirational cat with a vision of an alternate reality where cats are huge and humans merely their playthings, tiny servants which groom their bodies and which the cats can kill at their pleasure. She preaches her vision to motley assortments of wild cats around the world, hoping that if she can make enough believe in and dream of this reality, the world will change to conform to their dreams. Although seemingly a complete diversion from the basic story of the Sandman, it in fact illustrates one of the core themes of the series: the idea that reality is shaped in the most literal sense by the dreams, beliefs, and expectations of humans (and, in this case, of other animals as well).”

I’m wholly persuaded that “Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world” so long as ‘poetry’ is understood in the broadest sense as ‘those who tell the stories of the culture’, in the way that Homer told the story of Greek civilisation. Gaiman’s genius is to give a contemporary demonstration of, and argument for, this truth. What is at issue between the B and C of my spectrum above is, I believe, the shape of the future we can create. There isn’t an argument about the ‘logical analysis of the facts’ – because the facts are not the fundamental matters in dispute. What is in dispute is the vision of the future (which is by definition not an observed fact) and what drives the heat in the argument is, I believe, the sense that if the doomer perspective becomes dominant then that in itself will make the doom more likely. In other words, what is at stake here is the song being sung by the community – the song which, rather like Aslan at the beginning of the Narnia sequence, calls a world into being.

Which brings me (at last) to what I want to say about hope – because I think it is the establishment and maintenance of hope which will allow for a better future to be created. In other words, hope is not primarily a sentiment, a feeling generated within oneself – hope is, instead, a virtue, a practice, a habit which can be cultivated and strengthened. Rather than being ‘just a teleological hook to which to tie the end of one’s powerdown wishcasting’, hope is the essential quality of character that might make the difference between a successful powerdown and civilizational collapse. Seeing hope as a sentiment – and therefore something which can be discarded without cost – is to accept the modernist framework of knowledge and needs to be defended, not just assumed. In the Christian tradition (and in others, this isn’t a partisan point) virtues are precisely those powers of character which enable a flourishing community life. They are undoubtedly tied up with the emotions, specifically with the regulation of our emotional reactions to phenomena, but – as Damasio and Nussbaum amongst others have argued – that doesn’t diminish their cognitive import one iota.

There are many stories which are used to teach the virtue of hope – one of the most widely known is The Shawshank Redemption – but the one I’d like to touch on is The Lord of the Rings which has an extremely accurate depiction of the virtues, what they are and how they are cultivated and expressed. Of the very few substantial changes made for the film trilogy, only one seemed the product of a crass sensibility. Towards the end of the story, after the great battle outside Minas Tirith (the one where the Riders of Rohan come charging down the hill into the flank of the Orc army, just before the Oliphaunts get involved in the battle) the remaining members of the Fellowship are taking counsel together to determine what to do next. In the book, Gandalf is – as he is consistently – the voice of virtue. He is the one who recommends that the army of men goes to confront Sauron at the gates of Mordor, determined to do as much as possible to help Frodo’s journey to Mt Doom. In the film, however, Gandalf is the voice of despair – totally out of character! – and it is Aragorn who is given Gandalf’s words to say. However, whoever says it, the point being made is about the importance of acting with hope, even when all seems lost. Holding on to a hope, however slim, gives rise to a different course of action in the present. Gandalf is remarkably sanguine about what is in prospect – almost certain death – yet it is in acting virtuously, and doing what can be done at each moment in time, that their greatness lies. Gandalf says (in the book):

“His Eye is now straining towards us, blind almost to all else that is moving. So we must keep it. Therein lies all our hope. This, then, is my counsel. We have not the Ring. In wisdom or great folly it has been sent away to be destroyed, lest it destroy us. Without it we cannot by force defeat his force. But we must at all costs keep his Eye from his true peril. We cannot achieve victory by arms, but by arms we can give the Ring-bearer his only chance, frail though it be… We must walk open-eyed into that trap, with courage, but small hope for ourselves. For, my lords, it may well prove that we ourselves shall perish utterly in a black battle far from the living lands; so that even if Barad-dûr be thrown down, we shall not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so than to perish nonetheless – as we surely shall, if we sit here – and know as we die that no new age shall be.”

Which brings me to gunpowder. I would disagree with Oliver Cromwell on all sorts of matters (grin) but there is a phrase attributed to him which I have always loved: “Trust in God, and keep your gunpowder dry”. In other words – trust in God, but make all necessary provisions and precautions as your judgement of the situation demands. This is describing hope in the way that I understand it – not as a resistance to a painful acquaintance with the facts, but hope properly born on the far side of realism, after all the facts are intimately known, when questions of character and determination come to the fore. To sum up, I would say that position A above (let’s call it the cornucopian) says: “there is no enemy, I need no gunpowder”; position C above (the doomer) says “the enemy is coming! light the gunpowder!”; position B – which is where I think we must pursue our future – says “I have my gunpowder primed – and I am quite ready NOT to use it”.

Feyerabend on Galileo

This post is a summary of Paul Feyerabend’s article ‘The Tyranny of Truth’, as published in the collection ‘Farewell to Reason’, Verso, 1999; as part of a discussion taking place over at Stephen Law’s blog. Click ‘full post’ for text.

Feyerabend begins by talking about the best way to discuss the conflict between Galileo and the Church. He says that it would be preferable to explore all the various details and debates, individuals and institutions involved in the conflict. He says that this requires digestion of material far too rich and diverse to be treated in a short paper and that he shall therefore “rise to a higher level of abstraction” by talking about traditions.

His first interest is with the role of the expert in society, and he describes two different traditions outlining the extent of the expert’ s role. “One regards an expert as the final authority on the use and interpretation of expert views and expert procedures, the other subjects the pronouncements of experts to a higher court which may consist either of super experts — this was Plato’s view — or of all citizens — this seems to have been recommended by Protagoras. I suggest that the opposition between Galileo and the church was analogous to the opposition between what I have called the first and the second view (or tradition). Galileo was an expert in a special domain comprising mathematics and astronomy. In the classification of the time he was a mathematician and a philosopher. Galileo asserted that astronomical matters should be left to astronomers entirely. Only ‘those few who deserved to be separated from the herd’ could be expected to find the correct sense of Bible passages dealing with astronomical matters, as he wrote in his letter to Castelli of December the 14th, 1613…. in addition Galileo demanded that the views of astronomers be made part of public knowledge in exactly the form in which they had arisen in astronomy. Galileo did not simply ask for the freedom to publish his results, he wanted to impose them on others. In this respect he was as pushy and totalitarian as many modern prophets of science — and as uninformed. He simply took it for granted that the special and very restricted methods of astronomers (and all those physicists who followed their lead) were the correct way of getting access to Truth and Reality. He was a perfect representative of what I have called the first view or tradition.”

Feyerabend contrasts Galileo’s attitude with that of the church. According to Feyerabend the church sought to ground the understanding of astronomy — something pursued diligently by a number of its members — in a wider understanding of truth and reality. He writes “the models which the astronomers produced to account, say, for the paths of the planets could not be related to reality without further ado. They arose from special and limited purposes and all one could say was that they served these purposes, viz, prediction.” He goes on to summarise the church’s attitude in the following way: “To use modern terms: astronomers are entirely safe when saying that a model has predictive advantages over another model, but they get into trouble when asserting that it is therefore a faithful image of reality. Or, more generally: the fact that a model works does not by itself show that reality is structured like the model. This sensible idea is an elementary ingredient of scientific practice…”

Feyerabend goes on to discuss the ways in which this approach is used with great profit in scientific circles, discussing quantum theory, Newton’s theory of gravitation and Schrödinger’s wave mechanics. In each case the theory is validated by an appeal to a wider domain of understanding. Feyerabend writes “in his search for a way out of the difficulties of early 20th-century science, Einstein relied on thermodynamics. In all these cases models are compared with basic science and their realistic implications are judged accordingly. What was the wider domain that determined reality for the church? According to Bellarmino, the wider domain contained two ingredients, one scientific — philosophy and theology; one religious and to that extent normative –‘ our holy Faith’.” Feyerabend goes on to point out that for Bellarmino philosophy and theology were both sciences in the modern sense of the word: “theology dealt with the same subject matter (as science) but viewing it as a creation, not as a self-sufficient system. It was and still is a science, and a very rigorous science at that: textbooks in theology contain long methodological chapters, textbooks in physics do not.”

Feyerabend goes on to discuss the ‘second ingredient’ and remarks that “the second ingredient means that scientific results, wrongly interpreted, may injure human beings…. [it] further implies that questions of fact and reality depend on questions of value. For positivists this is an unfamiliar and even repulsive idea, but only because he is not aware of his own normative prejudices… Thus the church was not only on the right track when measuring reality by human concerns but it was considerably more rational than some modern scientists and philosophers who draw a sharp distinction between fact and values and then take it to for granted that the only way of arriving at facts and, therefore, reality, is to accept the values of science.”

It is this second ingredient that Feyerabend seems to admire the most. He draws out a strong parallel between the way in which the church acted to shape and control intellectual research, and the way in which such research is shaped and controlled today, most notably through questions of funding and peer review. He writes “Galileo tried to combine philosophy, astronomy, mathematics and a variety of subjects which are best characterised as engineering into a single new point of view which also entailed a new attitude towards Holy Scripture. He was told to stick to mathematics. A modern physicist or chemist trying to reform nutrition or medicine faces similar restrictions. A modern scientist who publishes his results in the newspaper or who gives public interviews before he has submitted to the scrutiny of the editorial board of a professional journal or of groups with comparable authority has committed a mortal sin which makes him an outcast for quite some time. Admittedly control is not as tight as it was at the time of Galileo and not as universal, but this is the result of a more easygoing attitude towards certain crimes (thieves, for example, are no longer hanged, or mutilated) and not a change of heart as to the nature of the crimes themselves. The administrative restrictions on a modern scientist are certainly comparable to those in force at Galileo’s time. But while those of the older restrictions which issued from the church were available in the form of explicit rules, such as the rules of the Tridentine Council, modern restrictions are often implied, not spelled out in detail. There is much insinuating and hinting, but there is no explicit code one could consult and, perhaps, criticise and improve. Again the procedure of the church was more straightforward, more honest and certainly more rational.”

Most crucially, Feyerabend argues, this second ingredient of the church’s attitude was open to negotiation. However, as it constituted one of the fundamental building blocks of the community’s perspective as a whole, it was not going to be altered willy-nilly. Feyerabend writes that this idea “is today accepted by all high school principals and even by some university presidents — don’t introduce a new basis for education until you are sure it is as least as good as the old basis. It is also a reasonable idea. It advises us to make basic education independent of fashions and temporary aberrations… it would be very unwise to rebuild it from top to bottom whenever an adventurous new point of view appears on the horizon.”

Feyerabend goes on to discuss how strong the evidence was for Galileo’s point of view, and therefore how reasonable it was for the church to oppose him. He discusses the way in which science itself develops through argument in the face of contrary evidence and writes “almost all philosophers of science writing today would have agreed with Bellarmino that Copernicus’s case was very weak indeed.” He adds “besides, Galileo’s views on the relativity of motions were incoherent. Occasionally he asserted the relativity of all motion, on other occasions he accepted impetus which assumes a fixed reference system. Galileo’s basic physics was even worse.” Feyerabend’s conclusion is that Bellarmino’s judgement was an entirely acceptable point of view.

Feyerabend goes on to conclude his paper by returning to the question of expertise and traditions, revisiting his earlier contrast between one tradition arguing that “society must adapt to knowledge in the shape presented by the scientists” and a second tradition arguing that “scientific knowledge is too specialised and connected with too narrow a vision of the world to be taken over by society without further ado. It must be examined, it must be judged from a wider point of view that includes human concerns and values flowing therefrom, and its claims to reality must be modified so that they agree with these values.” Feyerabend interprets the Galileo affair principally as a conflict between those two traditions and writes of the church that its perspective “had and still has a tremendous advantage over the principles of an abstract rationalism. It is also true that the noble sentiments inherent in a knowledge of this kind did not always prevail and that some church directives were simply an exercise in power. But the better representatives of the church thought differently and were worthy predecessors of modern attempts to temper the totalitarian and dehumanising tendencies of modern scientific objectivism by elements directly taken from human life…”

In his final remarks Feyerabend comments upon the notion that science is inherently self-correcting, which he ridicules. Feyerabend insists upon the value of all wider human life and the need for scientific knowledge to be incorporated within that life. He writes: “the enthusiasm for criticism shown by the philosophers and scientists whose views I am discussing now, though shared by many intellectuals, is not the only basis for a rich and reward in life and it is very doubtful if it can even be a basis. Human beings need surroundings that are fairly stable and give meaning to their existence. The restless criticism that allegedly characterises the lives of scientists can be part of a fulfilling life, it cannot be its basis. (It certainly cannot be a basis of love, or a friendship). Hence, scientists may contribute to culture, but they cannot provide its foundation — and, being constrained and blinded by their expert prejudices, they certainly cannot be allowed to decide, without control from other citizens, what foundation the citizens should accept. The churches have many reasons to support such a point of view and to use it for a criticism of particular scientific results as well as of the role of science in our culture. They should overcome their caution (or is it fear?) and revive the balanced and graceful wisdom of Roberto Bellarmino, just as the scientists constantly gained strength from the opinions of Democritus, Plato, Aristotle and their own pushy patron saint, Galileo.”

Rev Sam, bull$4!t artist

At two of the establishments where I studied Philosophy and Theology I was tutored by Stephen Law, who I found to be a great teacher and a very nice man. He’s also a very intelligent and committed atheist. I’ve just managed to get snagged in a discussion about evil and suffering on his blog, where one of his regulars says “I don’t think you’re a theist. I think, based on the arguments you’ve given that you’re nothing but a bullshit artist”.

Ho hum. From my perspective the conversation is revealing the great gulf that exists between theologians and secular philosophers of religion. We seem to be talking past each other rather painfully, which is a shame. See posts here, here and here.

LUBH 4 – Idolatry and Science (transcript)

A repost from 14th March 2007, as I think it’s of general interest (and linked to Blink)

Transcript of my fourth lecture, explaining what idolatry is, and how our society is damaged by the idolatry of science. About 8000 words.

Good morning and welcome back. I have been looking forward to doing this session, principally because the subject matter of this session is one of the first things I ever learnt when I started the academic study of theology, and I think it remains possibly the single most important insight which academic theology can give, and it’s not because academic theology has created something new it’s just that academic theology gave me a way of understanding something which is actually profoundly ancient and certainly deeply scriptural. But firstly a bit of a recap. Jeremiah as our guiding partner really because I see this great calamity coming down upon western society and the last two sessions were really just describing why I believe there is this calamity, this crisis coming upon us. Firstly, looking at oil and the energy crisis and secondly looking at the deeper roots why things like energy and pollution and so forth are becoming a problem in terms of the exponential growth of population.

So really those were setting the scene for why I think we can perceive a crisis or a calamity coming. What I want to do in the next three sessions is really explore some concepts which will give us the tools with which to understand what is going on from a theological, from a Christian point of view. And it begins by thinking of the first and the greatest commandment. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” Matthew 22, I’m sure you all recognise it. Or the Shema “Hear O Israel the Lord our God the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart” and so on. It’s from Deuteronomy 6. Or the first of the commandments, “And God spoke all these words, I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Eygpt, out of the house of slavery, you shall have no other Gods before me, you shall not make for yourself an idol, a graven image”, and so on.

What does this mean? This first and greatest commandment. Not many people these days worship golden calves formed from their melted-down jewellery, which is the Old Testament’s classic image of what idolatry is. But does this mean there is no idol worship going on? Surely not. So what is idolatry in the present day sense? If it isn’t literally bowing down to small idols kept in your living room (and maybe that does go on, maybe they have a phosphorescent glow…) but idolatry is something subtler than it used to be and I really what I want to do is spell out how it’s formed. Now I want to begin by talking about someone named Phineas Gage. Anyone heard of Phineas Gage? Good. He was a railroad foreman in Vermont in the middle of the nineteenth century, breaking down rocks with explosives. So he used to drill and put what’s called a tamping iron through the rock which was grounded with gunpowder, and he had an accident. And this tamping iron went through his head, and passed throught the other side and landed about thirty metres away. OK? Now he survived, in fact he didn’t really lose consciousness. His skull is kept, I think it’s in Harvard’s Medical Museum. But there is all sorts of research being done on him, had this tragic accident and it led to a profound personality change. He had been as the railway foreman very competent and very sober-minded, and he became someone reckless, someone who had no powers of patience or persistence, someone who was foul-mouthed and abusive, someone who simply couldn’t track the path of their life as it had been previously set out.

He did spend some time as one of P T Barham’s “freaks”. He used to be exhibited holding the tamping iron that had passed through his head. Basically his life disintegrated. He lived for another fifteen years or so after the accident but he could never hold down a consistent job, and the distinct personality change. Well one thing to draw from that is the way in which brain damage changes the personality and in particular in what seemed to have gone wrong with him is that his judgement was impaired. He could no longer pursue a consistent course, but his reasoning ability was untouched. You could have a conversation with him. OK? Now I’m drawing from a book called “Decartes’ Error” by an American neuroscientist called Antonio Damasio who discusses him, and then he goes on to talk about a man he calls Elliot, who he calls a modern Phineas Gage. Now Elliot had a fall, had a brain tumour and the brain tumour was operated on and it was operated on successfully. Elliot was a man in his mid-thirties, reasonably successful businessman, and after the operation, everything seemed to be OK, and he went back to his place of work and he found he couldn’t actually sustain the job. When he would look, for example, at his client’s papers, he could read and so forth but he would just get distracted. He would just read something which would grasp his interest at that present moment and just pursue it. All sense of priorities had gone. And so after a week or two of this he was sacked from that job, tried a few other jobs, lost all those jobs, got divorced and basically his life began to disintegrate, until he was institutionalised, which is where Antonio Damasio came across him.

And the interesting thing which Damasio is drawing out is the way in which his brain damage was corresponding to the brain damage which Phineas Gage had suffered, hence he is the modern Phineas Gauge. In other words there is something about emotions and judgement which impaired their human lives but left their reasoning ability intact. They could still read, they could still converse, but something had been taken away. What Damasio develops is this sense that decision is making really a crucial aspect of our humanity, of what forming a human life is. And this rests upon an emotional response, it’s not a rational response, it’s not like something that is produced from logic and investigation, but it is an emotional reaction. And he draws the analogy with playing a game of chess. When you have got someone playing chess, you have got a vast number of potential moves, especially when you start going two, three, four moves in. But what a Grand Master for example, or what someone who is very good at chess will do, is actually exclude the vast majority of those options, because they can see, hang on, a few moves down if I do that I will lose my queen. And that is given a great value.

I won’t go into all the details, but what Damasio does in neuroscience is describe a way in which the emotional reaction governs the judgement. OK, and he uses this example of chess that the options presented are winnowed down, are guided, if you like, by the emotional basis of judgement, and that all judgement is ultimately this physical response, it’s a bodily, it’s a carnal process and ultimately it’s like what might be called the reaction of disgust, it’s “Yuk, that’s bad!” So it’s very much at heart a qualitative reaction. This is good, this is bad. And the reason informs this process but it rests, the bedrock of the judgement process is emotion.

So what he argues is that emotions, our emotional reactions are in themselves, cognitive. In other words, they form part of our mind, our mental understanding OK? This is the bedrock of it, and our emotions are ways in which we evaluate information. Compare for example, your wife is a teacher, or your husband, doesn’t matter, or your wife/husband is an adulterer. The reaction to those items of information is significantly different. And that just brings out if you like the way in which our emotional engagement with information is different. Does that make sense?

So you have different types of knowledge, different forms of knowledge, OK and some are more value laden than others, in other words, some are more important. OK? So in terms of deciding what is most important in life, our reasoning can’t give us answers on its own. We have to involve our whole bodies, our whole souls, heart and soul. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul.

Now two analogies, just to really bring out something here. First is imagine a map, imagine our understanding of the world, we formed a picture of the world and you can think of it like a map, this is our map of the world, and this is the map of the world of someone who really likes castles. OK? So imagine a normal map and now imagine that someone who really, really interested in castles is forming their map and I was trying very hard with Photo Shop to make this even better, but this is the best I could do. Some areas are blocked up because here is a really good castle. OK? And here’s a really good castle in Colchester. Here’s a really good castle. So that is if you like a clear or true map, and this is a map which has got some areas blown up in importance. So what I’m trying to get at here is that an understanding of the world with some bits that are emphasised beyond how they actually truly are. Does that make sense? OK. I’m sure you can think of examples, but this is just one example off the top of my head.

A second example, a spider’s web. Think of the spider’s web as the map of an area. This is a normal spider’s web, don’t know if any of you have read this series of experiments where they fed spiders certain substances and they saw what difference it made to the web they spun. OK. So you can start to guess which is which. But my point is here is a pretty good spider’s web, it’s pretty uniform, pretty regular and it covers pretty much all the area. So that’s if you like, that’s a true spider’s web. It’s a sensible, realistic, non-idolatrous spider’s web. And these ones all have various things wrong with them. So this one’s missing various parts, this one again is a bit erratic, and this one is just all over the place. Can you guess what the substances were? This one is LSD, which is in some ways more perfect but there are some things wrong, this one is Marijuana, Hash. Do you know what this one is? Caffeine. The thing that really makes your spider webs wrong is caffeine. Quite interesting.

Anyhow, to continue. You can think of our reasoning ability our logical processing ability as being a bit like a blanket spread over our emotional understandings. So if the emotional understandings change, OK then the reasons follow it. The shape of the reason will follow it. It’s not what our emotions are built upon, our logical reason. Our emotional life is the bedrock and our reason simply flows over the top. There is a wonderful book by Martha Nussbaum, an American philosopher, I think she’s at Chicago, called “Upheavals of Thought,” where she goes through great classical literature describing how this happens, but it’s about this thick. So I won’t try and summarise all of it, but this is something which is very much a current interest of contemporary philosophy and neuroscience. But it’s not a new insight.

This is Hume – “Reason is and ought only to be the slave of the passions and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them.” So reason, the point I’m trying to make is that reason is a tool, our logic, our reason is a tool. And it rests upon our emotional makeup and our emotional makeup is very much concerned with values, with what is perceived as important. Some things are perceived as more important than others, that’s you know, we emotionally react differently. Hence that example, your wife is a teacher, your wife is an adulterer. Some things are more emotionally weighted.

So what is idolatry? Idolatry is making something more important than it really is. Simple as that. Make sense? Now this phrase making the penultimate, ultimate – mid twentieth century theologian called Paul Tillich, that was the academic insight which I grasped when I was an atheist, I am sure it was one of the major reasons why I moved away from atheism because once you realise what idolatry is, then of course you don’t want to make things more important than they really are and logically, once you have accepted that you can’t get away from the reality of God. That’s in a sense, that’s the whole theme of this talk this morning. We’ll come back to that. But that’s a phrase – making something which is penultimate, ultimate, making something which is important but not the most important, into the most important thing. It’s getting our priorities wrong. Simple as that, that’s what idolatry is. It’s getting our priorities wrong.

God is the single most important thing in life and if God is at the centre everything else falls into its proper place. You can think of that as a definition of God in so far as it’s possible to define God, that’s a useful definition. God is the most important thing, and as long as we keep God central, everything else will then fall into it’s proper place. This is not an insight restricted to Christianity, or even restricted to Judaism and Islam as well. The beginning of the Tao De Ching “The tao that can be spoken is not the eternal tao.” If it can be named or described it is not the ultimate. Anything which we can specify in words, anything that we can point to is not the ultimate. We cannot capture God. God always eludes us. Our brains can’t capture Him.

In the middle of one session before I think I said, “God is never the member of a class.” We can think of a class of objects, a class of things which are green, a class of things which are wonderful, a class of things which exist. God is never the member of a class. So in strict terms, God does not exist. Remember me saying this in one of my other sessions, simply because we have got a very good idea of what it means to exist? They are objects within the universe. God is not an object within the universe. God’s existence underlies everything else, but to say strictly philosophically speaking that God exists is to go beyond what we can actually say. Very important, God is always beyond us.

One of the spin-offs from this, this is my phrasing, only the holy can see truly, it’s only the saints who can see the world clearly. In so far as our hearts are set on God then we see the truth. If we are not, if we don’t have our hearts set on God and God alone, our vision of the world is more or less distorted. Now I had thought that was an original way of saying things, but of course it’s not. It’s just this, it’s not original to me at all: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” That’s what I’m describing. Make sense? With me so far?

Alright a hierarchy of values, of different ways of not worshipping God. Monolatry, in other words you worship one thing, and that one thing then becomes the most important thing in your world. And everything else has to shift around it. You might be an absolutely dedicated football fan and you have to go to every match that your team plays, and everything else in your life has to shuffle around it. OK. Once you have grasped what this is you can see it everywhere. It’s quite disturbing. Anyway the golden calf is a wonderful image for that. But of course for most people, it’s not as clear and you have polytheism, many gods. And it might be – Oh, my family has this much importance, my work has this much importance, my friendships have this much importance, my pleasures in life, you know, going for a drink in the pub, this has this much importance and there is nothing beyond them. And this is where I think most people actually live. You know, navigating between different competing interests, and they muddle along, but there is nothing which integrates them. There is nothing which puts them all in their proper place and actually allows them to flourish fully.

Of course, another option is simply chaos. Which is the position in fact that Phineas Gage and Elliot end up in. They are driven by the momentary impulse. It’s almost it becomes a biological thing. Oh, catch a scent, follow the scent. You know imagine a dog walking on the beach (an example close to my heart). The dog will just pursue, just run after whatever the impulse is. Again, there are many people who function like that. Everyone worships something. It’s impossible to be human and not have a sense of some things being more important that others, everyone builds their life around something. Now it could be that they build their life around various things, like polytheism, but everyone has a sense of what’s important. So everyone actually has a religion. And some religions are not as helpful, as holy as others. To quote Bob Dylan, “You’ve gotta serve somebody.”

Forms of idolatry. You can often see it in terms of an addiction, you know clear example is an heroin addict, that’s Renton from Trainspotting from any of you who have seen the film, he’s an heroin addict and you can just see him going through all sorts of very gruelling experiences. But think of the process of being addicted to something where the life, the wider richness of life gets drained out and all that the junkie can do is think about their next fix. And all they gear their life around is getting the money to get their next fix, their next high. That is a very good image of what idolatry is. OK?

But it doesn’t have to be a physical addiction, it can be mental addictions as well. And the thing about idols is that idols give what they promise. If an idol is worshipped, the idol will grant the worshippers’ requests. Heroin, to take that example, gives a tremendous high. It gives what it promises. But it takes away life in exchange. This is what an idol is. Mammon, the god of money or wealth, which is an idol which Jesus talks about which is still very prevalent in our society. If you worship mammon, if you structure your life around mammon, you will gain wealth. That is if you like, a spiritual, practical law, if you worship wealth, you will become wealthy, but you will lose your life in the process. Your life will be drained away.

Quote from Jeremiah, “Everyone is senseless and without knowledge, every goldsmith is shamed by his idols, his images are flawed they have no breath in them, they are worthless, the objects of mockery and when their judgement comes, they will perish. But he who is the portion of Jacob is not like these, for he is the maker of all things including Israel the tribe of his inheritance, the Lord Almighty is His name.” In other words, if you worship the living God you gain life. Life in all its fullness. This is what Jesus came to grant us. To reveal the living God and to give us that life, life in abundance, which is His intention for us. But if you worship any other God, you will get what those gods can provide, and they will take your life in exchange, they will destroy life. It is only the living God who grants life, that is why the first and greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength. Does this make sense? This is how it all does link in.

OK, let’s move on to the second part. The idolatry of science. There are two ways in which science can become a idol. One is to say that scientific truth is the only truth, and that’s called positivism, it really took its codified shape in the nineteenth century but it’s implicit in much that goes on for a hundred or two hundred years before then. OK. To say that scientific truth is the only truth. So only things which can be established by reason or by imperical proof and investigation, those are the, that’s the only valid knowledge. Anything else gets kicked out. Hume, who in other ways is quite sensible, says, “Look upon your bookshelf, see what comes from reason, so maths and logic, see what comes from emperical investigation, and that’s science, everything else on your bookshelf should be kicked off because it’s worthless.” That’s the attitude of positivism. So that’s one way in which science can be made into an idol.

And the other way is to say that scientific truth is the most important truth, to say that what we gain from these processes of scientific investigation, this is more important that anything else. OK? Now this is actually the idolatry of fundamentalism, and many of you will have been here when I did my session of fundamentalism, and it springs from the scientific revolution, because it interprets the Bible through a scientific lens. You know, you put the Bible through a meat grinder because what you want out the end is a sausage. You want particular forms of knowledge from the Bible and therefore you manipulate the Bible in order to extract scientific truth and that’s what fundamentalism is, that’s how it functions. OK. But as I say I did a whole session on that so maybe I’ll come back to that in the questions.

However, what I think is much more crucial to life, my favourite philosopher, “We feel that even when all possible scientific questions have been answered the problems of life remain completely untouched.” All that is most important in our lives is separate from scientific investigation. Go back to that contrast I drew, your wife is a teacher, your wife is an adulterer. What makes a difference between those two statements is not a matter of science, all the things that we are emotionally engaged with are not science as such. I’ll go on to explore this.

But this is a consistent theme in literature and there are lots and lots of examples, but just, almost at a time when the scientific revolution was taking off, the legend/mythology of Faust sells his soul to Mephistopheles, sells his soul to the devil, in order to gain some scientific knowledge, or the the legend of Frankenstein, you know, any film or story when you have got this white-coated mad scientist, “Aha, I’m going to discern the truth of the world”, and terrible consequences follow. And of course, the Matrix, which is one of the ones I’m using. But there are myriad examples where someone has given over all their life to science the pursuit of knowledge and terrible things follow. They are all describing consequences of an idolatry, where science is given more value, more importance than it deserves, and life becomes damaged or destroyed in consequence. I’m sure you’re all familiar with this, it’s such a trope, such a cliché almost. As I say the Matrix is quite a good one.

Now having had a real go at science, there is something quite important to bear in mind, that’s something which I call the holiness of science, didn’t have this in my notes, another good quote from my favourite author – “People nowadays think that scientists exist to instruct them, poets, musicians etc, to give them pleasure, the idea that these have something to teach them, that doesn’t occur to them.” In other words, scientific knowledge and awareness, compared to the knowledge and awareness that can come through understanding poetry or art or great fables and stories, one form of knowing is vastly more important than the other. And in fact narrative is the most important. I think narrative, our way of telling stories to each other, is actually the means by which our emotional bedrock is most formed. This is why the Old Testament says to the people of Israel you must tell your children this story about the Lord leading you out of Eygpt, why Passover, why is this night greater than any other night, and they tell the story. And this is why we have the Bible as it is, because the Bible is a story. It’s not because we can extract scientific facts from it, it is because this story governs our story. That is why the Bible is inspired. This is the story of God’s actions in the world, within which we fit. OK, so that is why the Bible is if you like, the supreme text.

Now, holiness of science. Because science does have something very important to it and I want to just spin this out because it is really quite crucial. It rests upon setting the emotional desires of the investigator to one side. That Greek word is apatheia. Think of the word apathy, which is what that word has now come down to us as. It means totally uncommitted. Not involved. But apatheia strictly speaking means an emotional distancing. OK. And this happens because the scientist is pursuing the truth about the world. And what they are after, they are trying to attend to what is in the world, not what they want the world to be like, so they are putting their desires to one side, they are getting distance from their desires in order to pursue the truth.

Now this is a spiritual discipline. It is actually one of the core spiritual disciplines about keeping our own emotions and desires in check. Now that is a Buddhist phrase. You know, if you like, the spiritual techniques of Buddhism, make this point much clearer most of the time, than Christian teachings. Because the Buddhists are concerned with the elimination of desire, they see desire as the root of all suffering. In Christian teaching it’s something slightly different, but the Buddhist’s aim is to become completely unattached to the world and when you gain this state of being unattached to the world, you see the world clearly. Can you see how there is this parallel going on? This insight is not something restricted to Christianity. Just by way of a side track, Christianity is about the formation of desire, it is not about the elimination of desire. I’ll come back to that at the end. And so science in order to be practised is a discipline, it is a training. You have to be trained in the attitudes of science. In order to become a scientist you have to be trained in how to investigate. I remember my ‘O’ Level Physics and Chemistry. The scientific method was spelt out, this is what you did in order to ensure that your own biases, your own emotional desires were put to one side. There was a particular method, a process in order to investigate things. Science is an analysis, it’s a discipline. But science goes a little bit wrong, this quotation those of you who saw the film “An Inconvenient Truth”, Al Gore’s one on global warming, he quotes this, “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble, it’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.” That’s what science is trying to move away from, OK?

But, this is my red or blue pill moment. How many of you have seen “The Matrix”? A handful. So this will probably mean absolutely nothing to the rest of you. Anyhow, basic plot of “The Matrix” is that the heroes are kept within a machine world which is a world of illusion. They have essentially electrodes implanted in their brain which give them the illusion of living in a real world and our hero, Keanu Reeves, Neo, breaks out from this. But in order to break out from it, because he realises that something is wrong, he goes to see Morpheus who is the terrorist, who the authorities are trying to correct and suppress. And he has this conversation with Morpheus, and Morpheus says this, “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here because you know something. What you know you can’t explain but you feel it. You have felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you know what I’m talking about?”

We know that there is something profoundly wrong with our world, but we can’t put our finger on it. What’s wrong with our world is that it is profoundly idolatrous, it is not built upon the love of the living God. And our society, the things which our society values and esteems and rewards, these are all idols. None of them in themselves are intrinsically wrong, mammon, for example, there is nothing intrinsically wrong with material wealth. God promises the Israelites the Promised Land which is a land flowing with milk and honey – it’s a vision of material wealth. But what goes wrong it when that is elevated above God. When it is given too much importance. Now society gives everything too much importance, because it has forgotten God, it has turned it’s back on God. Therefore in so far as we live and share in society, we are sharing in a distorted life, and deep down we know that it’s wrong, and do you recognise what I’m describing? Does that make sense. And that’s all this episode of “The Matrix” is describing really.

Now, my phrase the apathistic stance. Remember where I began emotions are cognitive. In other words we learn things about the world through our emotional reactions, and our emotional reactions can teach us. But this process of apatheia, hence the apathistic stance, is a way of learning more about the world, of learning in particular more about the physical and natural world. Because the physical and natural world doesn’t really depend upon our emotional reaction to it. Our emotional reactions do not actually govern the truth. But as with all tools, we need to be taught how to use it. This process of emotionally disengaging from what we are trying to discover in order to discern more truth, you know, learning how to put our own desires to one side, this discipline is a tool, and we need to learn how to use the tool, how to if you like, put it into a broader framework, a broader vision. We are not here to worship the tool. That’s what the idolatry of science is. Positivism is profoundly idolatrous. When it says that scientific knowledge is the only knowledge, they are worshipping the tool. You know it’s a bit like they walk around with a hammer, “Oh, this hammer’s going to save me, this hammer’s going to save me.” That’s what’s going on. When you hear an example like that, it’s obviously ridiculous behaviour.

The use of a tool is power over a tool and the ancient language which talks about how to gain power over a tool is the language of virtue. Virtue simply means power. Virtue – I think it’s Latin rather than Greek. Virtues are what’s been missed, another quote from my favourite philosopher, “what makes a subject hard to understand, if it is something significant and important, it’s not that before you can understand it, you need to be specially trained in abstruse matters. But the contrast between understanding the subject and what most people want to see. Because of this the very things which are most obvious, may become the hardest of all to understand. What has to be overcome is a difficulty having to do with the will, rather than with the intellect.” We need to change our desires, our will. We need to will the love of God.

Now one of the major formative influences on me is this book, called “After Virtue” by Alistair MacIntyre, and he begins with a fable. And the fable goes like this – imagine that there is a great crisis and catastrope. [Funny that] And a hundred years down the line as a result of this catastrope, as a result of hostility to science, all the institutions which have kept science going in our civilisation for the last two or three hundred years, have been destroyed, there has been a jihad if you like against science. OK? But a hundred years down the line people have if you like, people have got over their fit of rage at the scientists and some monks start trying to gather together this understanding of the world which had existed before all the riots and rebellions, and so what happens is they get together fragments. And here is a fragment about “Phlogiston Theory”. (Phlogiston Theory is the precurser to the understanding of oxygen. It was all about how flames use up material, Phlogiston is a scientific theory that got rejected.) And they you have got say Newton’s theories about absolute space and time. You have got Einstein’s theories, but all you have are fragments, OK? And what he says is “Imagine these monks trying to fit these fragments together, but without any overarching sense of how they fit.” You know imagine that you have got a jigsaw puzzle, you’ve lost the box, you’ve only got a third of the pieces, and you are trying to form a picture. That’s what he’s describing.

Now MacIntyre’s argument in this book is that this is exactly what has happened to our understanding of virtues – courage, prudence, temperance, self control, OK? That these were the values governing western civilisation from before the time of the Greeks, all the way through to say about fifteen hundred, sixteen hundred, before science became so dominant. And his argument is that because we have started to worship science as a society, all the forms of knowledge and understanding which are embedded in virtue theory, in other words how virtues are important, has been lost. And we still have this language, this moral language, but because we have lost the overarching vision, we don’t know what to do with the language. And so slowly the language breaks down. We still talk about things being good and bad, we still think it’s good to be courageous, it’s bad to be wicked, but the vision if you like of human life which that language was designed to support and describe, has been lost. And so we are now living in a time after virtue.

A vision to describe this, another quotation from Wittgenstein, “I was walking about in Cambridge and passed a bookshop and in the window were portraits of Russell, Freud and Einstein. A little further on in a music shop I saw portraits of Beethoven, Schubert and Chopin, comparing these portraits, I felt intensely the terrible degeneration that had come over the human spirit in the course of only a hundred years.” And if he went to Cambridge today I am sure he would see books about Paris Hilton. Can you see how our society, our civilisation has in one aspect completely collapsed, the notion of the virtues have been driven out.

Now the most important virtue is phronesis, this is Aristotle, and phronesis is the virtue of judgement. Sometimes translated as prudence, sometimes thought of as practical wisdom. But it is the ability to choose, to choose the wise course of action. To choose what is right. Let’s go back to Phineas Gauge, what was damaged in his brain was his ability to judge. If you like, any capacity he had for phronesis was removed. Same with Elliot this chap who had the brain tumour, any sense of judgement had been removed. That was what was lacking.

Now compare scientia, science, this is the medieval division, the medieval division was scientia, science, understanding of the natural world, reading the book of nature, with sapientia, wisdom, reading the book of God. And prior to the scientific revolution, scientia was not seen as particularly important, sapientia was what gave life. And what’s happened in our society is that’s been flipped over, and if you want, if we have time, we can talk about how and why, because I think there’s a very revealing explanation of why it’s happened and in fact I think the Christian church has a lot to repent of, because it is the Christian church which drove this switch. But we come to that if necessary. But sapientia, wisdom which used to be the aim of contemplation and cultivating an understanding of the world, a fully human life, this has been lost. You could say that we are frenetically anti-phronetic. We have abandoned any notion that judgement is important, and that we can teach judgement, we can teach children for example how to choose between right and wrong, and systematically we have abandoned all the things which used to support the structures of our society.

But sapientia, let’s come back to the first and greatest commandment, the first thing, the most important thing is to love God, love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, with all your strength; that is the narrow way which leads to life. As I say, only the living God gives life and worshipping the living God allows all the different bits in our life to fit together, it’s like being given – this is your jigsaw, this is the picture of your jigsaw, this is God’s vision for your life and as we look to God’s vision for your life, these are how the bits fit together. If we keep God at the centre, then our lives gain meaning and integrity and purpose.

This is H G Wells, you might recognise the quotation, “Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe.” You wouldn’t normally give a four year old child a set of matches to play with. You wouldn’t give him a gun, you wouldn’t give him a flame thrower. But our society is exactly in that state. We’ve got these tremendously destructive toys and we don’t know what to do with them, because we haven’t been taught, we’ve lost our capacity to choose, we have lost the virtue. We have lost the power of control over our toys, hence H G Wells, the choice.

Now this is a spiritual crisis first and foremost. Our culture has turned away from God in a very profound and often unacknowledged way. And the way forward out of all these problems is by returning to God. Now I’ve talked, I’ve quoted Daoism and Buddhism. The living, the major faith traditions all emphasise the process of discipline, of being trained in ways of knowing, ways of living, ways of understanding, and of course in the book of Acts, Christianity is first described as a way. Christianity is simply the way of Christ, and the job of the church is to teach people how to live in the way. In other words it is to instruct, it is to train people in the Christian virtues. You know what are sometimes called the Fruits of the Spirit – joy and peace and gentleness and self control and temperance and so forth. That’s the job of the church. It hasn’t been all that good at it recently.

Finally “The Matrix”. The story in “The Matrix” is that there is a war between humans and machines, and the humans who are losing the war let off all sorts of atomics in order to block out the sun, because the machines are driven by solar power, so they want lots and lots of clouds to shut down the solar power. But what the machines do instead is breed humans and they take the life energy in order to keep their machines running. That’s the basic premise of the plot. But I think that as an image, as a metaphor for what is going on, in our world today, it’s a very good one. That all our lives are devoted to things that aren’t actually from God and don’t actually give us life. So as an image, as a metaphor describing our world, I think it is tremendously accurate. People are batteries for the system, our lives are being used up in ways that don’t give life, western culture is profoundly idolatrous. God doesn’t allow idolatry to continue forever and the crisis which will break it down is coming.

And that took longer than expected. Questions, thoughts – did that make sense?

“I wonder if you could just describe what the precise significance of red pill or blue pill means?”

OK, Morpheus, once he has explained to Neo and this is Morpheus in the sunglasses. Morpheus explains to Neo that you are aware that there is something wrong, you know the image of the splinter in your mind is driving you mad, OK, and before Neo gets out of the system, Morpheus gives him a choice. Actually, I want to use this for a baptism class, because the ten minute sequence is a wonderful description of baptism, anyway, it begins with this choice. He says to Neo – “Look you have a choice, you can either choose the truth, which is the red pill and then I will teach you how deep the rabbit hole goes”, reference Alice in Wonderland, “you can either choose the truth which will be painful and difficult, and will take you out of this world, or you can take the blue pill, all the blue pill will do is remove the pain of the splinter. You will go back to your life and you can forget about all the things that you feel are wrong. You just go back into the system.” So this is the basic choice. We can either take the blue pill, think “Oh there’s nothing really wrong, just get on with our lives, keep on in the way that we have been doing, ignore what’s going on in the world”, and actually, there’s all sorts of attractions about that, it is much more pleasant, it is easy, you don’t have to struggle. Or you can take the red pill and all the red pill will do is reveal to you the truth. And the truth sets us free.

Of course the whole plot of “The Matrix” is that Neo takes the red pill and he is then taken out of the system and he is born again into a new community, you know there are profound Christian images throughout “The Matrix.” Throughout “The Matrix” trilogy in fact. That’s hence the red or blue pill, we have the choice between pursuing the truth which sets us free and leads to life or ignoring it all and just getting on with our lives – “It’s alright I don’t want to worry about that. It’s somebody else’s problem.” You know, that’s the choice. The broad way or the narrow way, exactly so.

“I sometimes end up by being vaguely depressed by the lectures, Sam, especially when you end up by saying things like the crisis is coming. What do you foresee the crisis is coming?”

Were you here last week?

“No.”

Last week I began saying I want your blood to run colder at the end of this talk because I am going to give you the really depressing stuff to set the scene for all the positive stuff which is to come, and really the thing which I want you to take from this is that if you set your hearts on God, God leads you to the Promised Land. But it takes you away from Eygpt, it takes you through the desert and you know, there was a generation in the desert so that people forgot about Eygpt, they do not still have their hearts turned to the fleshpots where the things were good.

I do foresee a calamity of some sort, the details, who knows, but our present system cannot continue. I think this is if you like, the underlying point I want to make. Our present way of life cannot continue, exponential growth within a finite environment cannot continue. But really what I am doing today is coming at it from a different angle, saying it shouldn’t continue, it’s a terrible, terrible thing. And this is probably the first aspect. Our way of life, the western way of life, like excess consumerism, all the things which are held up to be of value, destroy life. And actually the vision of Christian life, of full humanity, hence the overarching theme “Let us be Human”, is something extremely positive. That there is a way of life shown to us by Christ which allows us to be all that God wants us to be, but in order to get to that Promised Land, we need to see and perceive the truth about the present way of the world, in order to reject it, in order to say this is false, this is idolatrous, this destroys life and I choose life.

Coming back to the thing I’ve quoted before about Deuteronomy, which is where I am going to begin in the next session in a fortnight. “I have set before you this day a choice, choose life that you and your descendants may live.” That is what God says through Moses to the Israelites in the desert. And I think we have to hear those words today. Is that an answer?

“Yes.”

“I’m a little bit confused about the broad and the narrow path. Which is which?”

Right, the narrow path is choosing the truth, choosing God, rather than choosing pleasure and comfort and an easy life and ignoring the truth.

“You can take that either way.”

Really, go on.

“Well, either things are set out for you and you go down with blinkers on if you like, or you have got everything laid out before you to enjoy.”

Ah, I see what you mean. I think that the point about the narrow way is that it is more that it doesn’t involve blinkers. It is a bit like climbing up a mountain. If you keep your eye on the summit you will keep going higher but if you are in the valley and it is comfortable land you have grass to graze on, don’t worry about the top of the mountain. But the flood’s coming.

“Can I share two scriptures please?”

Sure.

“Romans 12 v 32, Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is, His good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Exactly!

“Philippians 4 v 12b, I am learning the secret of being content in any and every situation whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

Yes, that phrase from Romans especially, the renewing of our minds. That’s an essential part of what being a Christian is, our minds are renewed and therefore we can see the world as it is. You know, all things in the world were created through Christ, so if we set our hearts on Christ, we see the truth and the truth sets us free. You know, it is really quite, it does all make sense, it does all fit together. That might be a good point to end on actually, thank you for that.

Next week I will be looking at wrath – the Wrath of God. Thank you for coming.

Inertia, theōria, blogging

I’m a very stable and fixed sort of person – you could call it mulish (or if you happened to be interested in astrology, you could say it was because I have a grand cross of major planets in the fixed signs 😉 – but one way of thinking about it, which my wife uses every so often, is to say that I have a lot of inertia. Normally that means that her husband is accumulating too much lard on his backside through being inert, but I actually like the strictly physical definition, whereby a body at rest needs a lot of prompting to move, but also a body which is moving requires a lot of force to change course. For I have been known to move, on occasion.

This sequence of thoughts was prompted by the arrival of Ollie – not an expected arrival, but one which was nevertheless sought out, and is from God – for Ollie is dragging said husband off his backside onto the beach two or three times a day, and the pressure of a wagging tail and a wet nose is a sufficient force to cause the mass to enter into movement. I think this is a very good thing for me – I haven’t been getting enough exercise ever since I got married (and have accumulated nearly an extra three stone in weight) and this exercise is going to persist. So although I find it uncomfortable – my inertia is resisting this outside force – I can see it is a tremendous blessing for me.

Now yesterday I managed to read a review in the Times Literary Supplement which discussed theōria. Theōria is seen by Aristotle as the highest virtue, and it is normally translated as contemplation. My spiritual director once told me that I have a significant contemplative streak, and I think this is true – I like to ponder questions, and weigh them, sifting them for nuggets of truth. Think of Rodin and a part of my self-image is revealed. Yet I have always seen this as a principally sedentary and immobile activity. Now I read this in the review:

“In due course, Aristotle would assert that theōria, meaning philosophical contemplation of the nature of things, is the best, most enjoyable activity there can be; hence it is God’s sole occupation and the central purpose of the best possible human life.

“This is easy to misunderstand, in part because ‘contemplation’, the now conventional translation of Aristotle’s theōria, suggests a single, steady gaze held on a single impressive object, like a telescope focused on the peak of a high mountain… But the original theōros, engaged in “sacralized spectating” at the Olympic Games or watching a tragedy in the theatre at Athens, saw a complex multiplicity of events, which could only be properly understood in relation to one another. (Compare: the spectator’s experience of a modern cricket match is more like following a narrative than viewing a mountain peak.) There is no good reason to think that this complexity dropped away when Plato and Aristotle made the transition to abstract, philosophical theōria. Their theōria is not analagous to a single steady gaze at a single impressive object.”

(MF Burnyeat, reviewing Andrea Wilson Nightingale’s “Spectacles of Truth in Classical Greek Philosophy, TLS February 24 2006)

It seems to me that this sense of theōria has just a little in common with blogging – on going comments on those things which enter into the mental frame of reference of the blogger, which do not have to be fixed and stable like a mountain, but can be an ongoing drama like a greek tragedy, or like the fall of western civilisation as a result of Peak Oil (grin).

So theōria, contemplation, that which I enjoy – this is not a ‘single steady gaze’ – and to undertake contemplation I do not need to be passive, which is the psychosomatic hole in which I have placed myself. My inertia can be mobilised, I can indeed be a body in motion, and still I can pursue that highest, most divine of virtues – “sacralized spectating” – which is, I believe, what my blog should aim to be.

I’m not there yet, but I’ll keep going at it.