philosophy

Problem of Evil and the Moral Argument

December 24, 2020 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

The Moral Argument for the Existence of God

If evil exists, then an objective, obligatory standard of being exists
- A1: analytic truth
If it is obligatory, it was designed by an intelligent agent
- A1: we are not obliged to standards from non-persons
- A2: the concept of being wrong assumes the standard was an intentional creation
If it is obligatory and designed by an intelligent agent, that intelligent agent was a creator that endued the obligation
- A1: avoids the externalist-only regress (and the internalist-only lack of motivation)
So, if evil exists, an intelligent creator exists
Evil exists
- A1: claimed in the Problem of Evil
  - O1: give up the claim from the Problem of Evil
    - R1: special pleading
  - O2: "If God existed, then this would have been evil."
    - R1: impossible counterfactual
So, an intelligent creator (God) exists

O1: entails that atheists can't be moral or that atheists can't have an ethical system
- R1: this is an argument about what makes the moral system true, not what needs to be believed to be moral or have an ethical system

Should we kill off the weak?

July 25, 2019 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

This week we have been considering a view called ethical egoism and I gave you the example of the Plank of Carneades. When I give this dilemma in class, sometimes my students will argue for the egoistic choice by noting that in the moment of choice your survival instinct would kick in. You would naturally want to fight off the other person and giving up the plank would be unnatural. The implication is that things that are natural are good.

This style of argument is similar to what is given by a different but somewhat related system of morality. Evolutionary ethics is the view that we have a moral obligation to aid the evolution of our species. Natural selection hones the human race to be ever more adept at survival. To fight against this could only serve to weaken our race, and this is surely a bad thing. The human race naturally progresses towards a greater goal, so it would be wrong to interfere. However, living in a society instead of in nature creates an artificial environment in which evolution is stymied. Therefore, we should try to correct this as much as possible.

If this sounds at all familiar it should: this is the logic employed by the Nazis. Typically when someone compares something to the Nazis, they do so fallaciously (a phenomenon documented here). In logic, a ‘false analogy’ is reasoning that just because two things are similar in one way, they must be similar in an unrelated way. This is exactly how much politicking goes on. I’ve heard people say (and I’m not endorsing anyone), “President Trump distrusts the press. You know who else had a problem with the press? Hitler.” A couple years back it was, “President Obama blames the rich for the problems in America. You know who else blamed a group of people? Hitler.” The problem is that, just because someone is similar to Hitler in one way doesn’t mean they are similar to him in other, objectionable ways . Otherwise, we could say, “President Lincoln drank water. You know who else drank water?” However, in the case of evolutionary ethics, we are no longer appealing to irrelevant similarities. The Nazis reasoned that the weak would die off naturally but due to artificial circumstances (society) they survive. Worse, they are allowed to breed and thereby pollute the gene pool. The obvious conclusion is that they should not be allowed to survive. So, the Nazis euthanized them (for a gnarly example of what this would be like, watch season 2 of The Man in the High Castle, but not before reading the excellent book by my favorite author, Philip K. Dick.

Hopefully, you haven’t found the Nazi case too convincing because it is logically fallacious. Appeal to Nature is a fallacy on which we assume something is good just because it is natural (for our purposes, assume “natural” means “occurs without human engineering”). So, for example, in the movie “Friday,” Smokey says weed is from the Earth, implying it is good because it is natural. You know what else comes from the Earth? Lead. Does that mean you should shoot yourself (this isn’t a proof that marijuana is bad, but this argument certainly is)? When the evolutionary ethicist appeals to the “nature” part of natural selection, she is making the same assumption. Even if evolution happens in nature, so does murder. That doesn’t make murder good.

The same should be said about the way my aforementioned students argued. They said that since we naturally have a survival instinct, we should employ that instinct. Again, just because something happens in nature, doesn’t mean it’s good. You may want to kill in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean you should. In fact, we have all kinds of natural desires we should avoid. We naturally desire to hit people, take things that aren’t ours, and eat the M&M’s out of the trail mix so dad is left with peanuts and salt-caked raisins. But we shouldn’t.

Do works of art exist?

March 14, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

This week, we are talking about the Constitution View, the idea that a thing such as a famous statue can be constituted by, but not identical to, the material that makes it up. Those are fancy words for saying the statue and its stuff are two different things existing at the same place at the same time. That sounds crazy, but it is the result of some very common sense views. My take-away from this is that these common sense views should be revised.

Consider a famous painting, Whistler’s “Nocturne: Blue and Silver – Cremorne Lights.”

This painting is dope! If it didn't load, you should look it up

Nocturne: Blue and Silver – Cremorne Lights

Imagine the moment before he begins to work on it. Whistler stands there with his materials. What of the painting exists at this moment? Surely just the canvas and the oils. Now the artist applies the first stroke. We don’t have a painting yet. But, do we even have a new thing that has come into existence? Plausibly, we have the same stuff, only some of the oil has been spread onto the canvas. Nothing new exists, but some stuff has been moved around.

Now imagine the artist continue to work. A second stroke does no more than the first. Nor does a third. The only thing that happens is that more oil is spread over the canvas. Continue to imagine him work until he is nearly finished. One stroke left. Each stroke has done the exact same thing (if you are familiar with the philosophical problem of vagueness, this argument is distinct in that I’m not concerned with the quantity of strokes that make a painting). What happens with the next stroke? Does it bring some new thing into existence? It certainly seems like it has done no more than the former strokes. There is no magical life-giving power in it. To my mind, I can’t see that it would do any more than the former strokes: spread oil over canvas.

Notice, however, there is something repugnant about what I have said. If the only thing that exists is oil and canvas, then I could have spread the oil over that canvas instead of Whistler and it would have been identical. However, we love Whistler’s work and no one would love my work except my mom. Further, we think anyone who comes afterWhistler and puts oil on canvas in the same way has violated his intellectual property. Finally, we don’t think there’s anything special about that specific oil and that specific canvas. Were Whistler to have done the same using different oils and canvas, we might say it would be the same painting.

Unfortunately, it’s not just paintings and statues that share this problem. Songs, dances, plays, books, and movies seem to be even more difficult to explain. Rarely do we care about original copies of these, and in the case of dances we rarely have access to original copies. How do we make sense of this? Do we have to give up belief in all things we hold dear? Next week, I’d like to explore this a little more, but what do you think?

What should we think when philosophy gets weird?

February 28, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

This week we are talking about the Problem of Material Constitution: how can a material object retains its identity through change? To bring the problem into focus, we looked at the Ship of Theseus, a very strange thought experiment. A tempting thought when things get weird is to punt to skepticism. You might think, “This is exactly why I hate philosophers. Why waste your time on pointless questions like this?!” After all, it seems obvious that material things survive change and if philosophy is going to say otherwise then it’s stupid. What can we say about philosophy when it seems to go off the deep end? Here are three ideas.

1. Breaking you down to build you back up

Socrates, one of the progenitors of Western philosophy, was sentenced to death for moral corruption of the youth. I like to believe the following account is why. In a passage in Plato’s Meno, Socrates interrogates Meno into exposing his ignorance about the nature of virtue. This can easily be mistaken for an attack on the existence of virtue itself, but I think Socrates’ purpose is to bring Meno to a better understanding of virtue because he believes such understanding will steel Meno’s resolve to be virtuous in the face of temptation whereas a faulty understanding will cause him to falter. For example, I might resist trying heroin because my parents told me so, but I’ll be much more likely to reject it if I see its effect on others and learn the staggering statistics of misery.

In the same way, when philosophy gets wacky such as in the case of material constitution, we might not have to construe our inquiry as destructive. Imagine the Ship of Theseus paradox actually happens. Someone takes all the replaced planks, rebuilds the ship, and posts it on eBay. Had you already bought the continuous ship, seeing the eBay advertisement might shake your faith in the existence of material objects. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a theory as to how material objects can retain their identity through time? Maybe that’s all we’re after when we talk about the Problem of Material Constitution.

2. Philosophy takes time

One of my favorite quotes about philosophy comes from Harm J.M.J. Gorris. When evaluating a philosophical theory that would have us reject a common-sense view of the world, Gorris says, “I think philosophy must first do its homework and present an airtight, non-circular argument before it may dismiss such an intuitive insight as mere illusion.” That stuck with me because it resolved an issue that had been haunting me. When he converted to theism, then-renowned atheist A.J. Ayer gave the rationale that we must, “Follow the evidence, wherever it leads.” What bothered me about that quote was that throughout history people have thought up new arguments for and against God. What if the evidence changes just a little tomorrow so that it slightly favors the opposite? For me, faith is life-changing. Am I to change my life with the academic wind?

Gorris’ quote is important to me because it reminds me that we don’t need to throw out our beliefs just because some new, wacky doctrine comes along. Philosophy actually takes a long, long time to advance, and what is philosophically fashionable today needs some time under its belt before it can be established. Philosophers are working daily to show why philosophical theories are untenable. It could easily be the case that the new, cutting-edge theory of today is the cautionary tale of tomorrow. Maybe when philosophy gets weird, we should just wait.

3. The world is weird

In college, a friend of mine ran into a tree so hard that his legs and arms literally shot out like on a cartoon. It was one of the greatest moments of my life and I still cherish the memory. However, if we are being scientifically accurate, he never did run into the tree. Our best science has led us to conclude all physical objects are actually made up of much smaller particles that never truly touch each other. Both my friend and the tree are made up of a tiny fraction of a percentage of stuff, and the rest is empty space. Instead of hitting the tree, the electrons in my friend were unable to fill the correct role in the atoms of the tree and vice versa due to some bizarre atomic property. When we look at my friend and the tree, however, it certainly doesn’t look that way. It looks like both are totally solid, filled-in objects that smack into each other. In other words, the world is a lot weirder than it initially looks.

Philosophy makes strange claims at times. Sometimes it is only for the sake of better understanding of common sense, sometimes it’s just because philosophy hasn’t had enough time to work things out, but it might be just because the world is weird. If science has established that the world is totally different than it appears, then maybe we should expect the same of philosophy. It would be odd to say that the world isn’t as intuitive as it seems after we’ve done science, but then we do philosophy and it’s totally what we anticipated. Maybe weird is just what we should expect.

Instagram Meddling in Russian Election?

February 21, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

Rational egoism is the idea that the only rational choices people can make are those that maximize their own benefit. In this week’s series, we explored how this applies to individuals, but a further question remains as to how groups can make rational choices. The issue becomes especially poignant when we consider groups we treat as individuals, such as corporations. To illustrate, let’s take a look at a recent development amongst American companies in Russia.

Alexey Navalmy was the only legitimate threat to president Vladmir Putin in the upcoming elections, but that all changed when he was accused of corruption by the Russian government—a move he claims was politically motivated. However, Nvalmy continues to attempt to depose the current powers in Russia, most recently through a video accusing deputy prime minister Sergei Prikhodko of accepting bribery. To do so, he used media showing the deputy prime minister on a businessman’s private yacht. The Russian government ordered him to take the media down and he refused to comply. They then told Instagram and YouTube to take down the offending material and hinted they might block access to the country in case they were disobeyed. Clearly, both companies would stand to lose a great deal of advertisement money if they were blocked from a country as big as Russia. Facebook, who owns Instagram, complied while Google, who owns YouTube, has not (at least at the time of this writing).

Who is making the right choice? If we want to say an American corporation should have no concern about how a foreign government rules itself, then we should also agree it is okay for American companies to sell the material used in NBC weapons to dictators that employ them on their own people. If, on the other hand, we want to say American corporations should get fully involved in how a foreign government rules its own nation, we will be resurrecting imperialism. Probably the truth lies somewhere in between. In this case, however, Instagram and YouTube have a much greater responsibility, because they are providing the platforms of speech. If people are able to access the state’s information but not the dissenting side’s information, then these corporations are providing the means to squash free speech. So, assuming Putin’s regime is fixing the future election, covering up corruption, and blocking free speech, Instagram is at least facilitating crimes. If YouTube gets blocked, they will not be facilitating these crimes, but will be losing a lot of money for themselves and shareholders. The question is whether Instagram is right for worrying about losing money or YouTube is right for worrying about being complicit in the corruption of a foreign government.

Interestingly, this debate shares similarities to our topic for the week. In laissez faire capitalism, it is thought that the goal of corporations is to maximize profit. An obvious objection is that this means corporations should act in morally reprehensible ways, but these philosophers of economy respond that such behavior would be far more likely to result in loss of profit due to competition (e.g., if they cut corners, people will buy from competitor corporations). If corporations are acting rationally and if there is sufficient competition, then they must act in a way that is commensurate with what we typically take to be moral. It is assumed that corporations will act rationally, so the only thing we must concern ourselves with is the sufficiency of competition, something laissez faire economists believe should be ensured by the government. Of course, this is a problem when the corporation is operating outside of the government’s jurisdiction, is operating under a corrupt government, or the nature of the product is such that there can be little competition. All of these are issues in the current case. Instagram is operating outside of the US, it is operating in a notoriously corrupt country, and is a platform not easy to leave because the connections people make on it aren’t transferable (notice that YouTube might hold the first two criteria in common with Instagram, but it is much easier to imagine transferring my material to Vimeo).

It may seem like laissez faire capitalism is just rational egoism applied to corporations instead of individuals, but there is a premise here that is not present in rational egoism. Both views hold that the only rational option is to benefit the chooser, but laissez faire capitalism makes the further claim that the benefit is profit, whereas rational egoism leaves the nature of the benefit open. Because of this, a rational egoist could argue that the right choice is whatever contributes to the common good because it benefits the user more to live in a world where everyone is happy than in one where she hoards all goods. A drawback to this view is that it no longer becomes clear what choice should be made. The laissez faire capitalist has a clear aim: get that money. A rational egoist aiming at the ‘common good’ isn’t totally sure what that means or how to get there. However, he will be much more likely to act in a way we find acceptable than the laissez faire capitalist.

I don’t claim to know what YouTube or Instagram should do. Maybe their goal should be profit—though I find this repugnant—in which case Instagram is right. Maybe their goal should be to most benefit their corporations, in which case it’s hard to see what other benefit there could be for such an entity than profit. However, if their goal should be to most benefit their members, then it is very plausible that YouTube is right. What do you think?

Is philosophy totally useless?

December 22, 2017 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

“When will we ever need to know this? What’s the point?” The question is a semester killer. Until now, most of your students have trudged through the blizzard of information that is your class, naively assuming there is a point. Now they are all jutted upright in exasperation, waiting for your assurances. Surely, you will assuage them with purpose. You are the teacher. You will know why.

“Because it will be on the test,” you say. You blew it. You just told them your class is nothing more than a hurdle to college and career. You serve no purpose but to stand in the way. You are a speed bump. But, this isn’t why you became an expert in your field. You didn’t major in this because it was on the test. Why did you need to know this?

A better answer would have been to show students what they could do with the knowledge you provide. Want to launch rockets? Here’s how to use physics to get your first one going. Like travel? Here’s how to use Spanish to get an experience the average tourist could never hope for. Like money? Here’s how to use math to make it rain. Most people won’t go on to be teachers in your subject—which is good because if everyone were a teacher, we’d have no food, shelter, or surfboards. Showing students how your knowledge helps them do what they want to do makes your knowledge something they want.

However, that’s probably not why you majored in this. It isn’t usually the case that Physics teachers are just former rocket scientists, Spanish teachers are just travelers, or Math teachers are just rich (or have any money at all). No, there is something about the knowledge itself that fascinates people. It should be mind-blowing that we can use physical equations to perfectly plan the trajectory of a projectile. It should be incredible that we can describe how an entire language works through a few rules. It should be awesome that we can use numbers to predict the future of a market. That’s what inspires people to dedicate themselves to something. When knowledge is for the sake of something else it is good, but only as a means to an end. When knowledge is for its own sake, then it is good in and of itself.

There is precious little you can do with the philosophy. You won’t send anyone to the moon, you won’t communicate with foreigners (though you’ll sound like one), and you definitely won’t make money (believe me). But that isn’t why people study it in the first place. After years of teaching philosophy, I am convinced now more than ever that it houses the questions people love most. What are we: souls, animals, machines, illusions? What is happiness and what is the point of this life? Is God real and if so what is God like? How can I know whether this is all just a dream or that I’m not the only person among very realistic robots? Is it better to save a life or respect cultural beliefs? Some have argued that these questions are pointless. Maybe. Some say they are a waste of time. Okay. But, no one says they are uninteresting. And, if something done for its own sake is good, then it is good to philosophize.

Beggars Can’t Be Choosers? Philosophy and Choice

December 15, 2017 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

One day when I lived in Philadelphia a homeless person asked me for money. Normally I would offer to buy him food rather than give him money because I knew there was a problem with drug and alcohol abuse amongst the homeless and I was afraid I might be enabling an epidemic. On this particular day, however, I was running late for something very important. I couldn’t stop to buy something—but I did have a $20 bill in my pocket. I thought quickly: this money could really help someone trying to get back on his feet, or it could really do a lot of damage to someone struggling with addiction. Should I give it to him and hope for the best? Should I withhold it and risk letting someone go hungry? What choice should I make? What would you choose?

One choice would be to give it no thought and just do whatever I felt like doing. However, imagine someone who lived in such an impulsive way: acting purely on desire and without any thought. Such a person (a ‘wanton,’ to use Harry Frankfurt’s term) would be little better than a wild animal: giving or keeping, helping or harming, hugging or strangling with whatever whim happens upon her. Such a capricious life has never been attractive to me, so this wasn’t really a choice. I needed a thoughtful decision.

The problem is that there are so many considerations that choices like this can be confusing. Here are three examples:

Is it best to give people the means to make their own choice or is it best to give them an environment that is most conducive to success?
Is it better to have a society where people help each other or one where people are independent?
Why should I help someone in the first place?

These questions are, respectively, questions of human nature, political philosophy, and ethics. In other words, these are philosophical questions, and they have a direct impact on our lives.

On that Philly sidewalk, I didn’t have the time to sift through all these criteria; I had only a few moments to act. Philosophy is something best done when we have time to sit and consider, not on the fly. So, one reason we have to do philosophy (and read philosophy blog posts) is that it will help us to make the difficult decisions that arise in life.

Beginning philosophy? Here are 3 tips you have to know!

November 30, 2017 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

Philosophy is life-changing. It expands your mind, hones your critical thinking, deepens your appreciation for your world–but, then why doesn’t everyone do it? Well, philosophy is much like getting in shape. The first few days are easy, but very soon afterwards your motivation wanes. You don’t see immediate benefit and it becomes very difficult to continue. If, however, you stick with it, it becomes a habit: something it’s hard not to do. The way you think and see the world will expand dramatically and you’ll love it!

How do you get to the point where philosophy is just a part of you? Here are three tips for any beginning philosopher.

1. Commit!!!

Again, the benefits to your mental life are incredible, but it’s going to take a little effort. I suggest blocking out a short amount of time regularly–if not daily–to read/watch philosophy. And, I don’t mean, “Yeah, I’ll find a few minutes everyday,” because that will never happen. Sit down with a calendar and put down some ink (or pixels). Intentionally commit to learning. Of course, I would suggest watching my videos and reading my blog posts, but it doesn’t have to be that. Throughout our time together, I will continually suggest further reading, listening, or viewing, and my feelings won’t be hurt if you spend your time elsewhere. So long as you’re enjoying philosophy, my job is done!

2. But, don’t go crazy

When you schedule your philosophy time, don’t go too big. In any discipline, the key to sticking with it is personal integrity. As soon as you blow off your schedule, you won’t take your commitment seriously anymore. After all, you already broke your word once; why think you’ll stick with it now? You will be much more likely to remain honest to yourself if your plan is challenging enough to maintain your interest, but reasonable enough to stick with. Or, as the old Air Force adage goes, “Set high, but achievable, goals.”

3. Take philosophy notes

There are several reasons for taking notes. First, a time will come when you want to remember something you heard or read. However, you won’t be able to find it without organizing your information. Second, studies have shown people remember things better if they write them down. Third, the act of organizing what you’ve learned will give you enough time thinking about the material to develop your own ideas. You will then want to write these ideas down and pretty soon you’re a philosopher.

Here are a few suggestions for note-taking equipment. When I am researching, I like to use Microsoft OneNote. I like the fact that you can add pictures easily and I think it allows you to organize your notes very well. Some people prefer Evernote. It lacks many higher-level logic symbols, but this shouldn’t be a problem for beginning philosophers.

I also recommend carrying around a small, physical notebook to jot down thoughts you have throughout the day. OneNote and Evernote are available for your phone, but I find that it’s cumbersome to take out your phone and type in your thoughts. Also, having something in your pocket or bag that is dedicated to your thoughts encourages you to actually take the notes. I prefer moleskine notebooks, but you should choose whatever is appealing to you. If you like the way your notebook looks and feels, you will be much more likely to use it.

Do you have any suggestions for success? Please comment below! The best philosophy happens in dialogue, so let’s start the conversation!