Reading dialogues like Gorgias, it's easy to see why Plato's philosophy became so influential among many early Christian thinkers and writers. Especially with its strong focus on the importance of virtue, defense of suffering martyrdom in the cause of truth, and concluding myth that all souls are judged after death.
Personally, I think Christianity would be much better off just sticking with Plato and the Jefferson Bible, and getting rid of all that Old Testament, grumpy God business, not to mention most of the writings of Paul. (Thomas Jefferson went so far as to deem him "the first corrupter of the doctrines of Jesus.")
I mean, in Plato, you've got all the best things about Christian ethics and theology, just without all the homophobia and gender inequality (especially, e.g., the Symposium and the Republic). It's hard for me to imagine a perfectly loving God condemning anyone's sexuality or their expression thereof as an abomination (Lev 20:13), or excluding women from positions of authority in the Church (1 Cor. 14:34-35).
While I don't believe in a creator God, nor, as a consequence, that Jesus is the son of God/God in the flesh, I do have a soft spot for Jesus as a spiritual teacher, and I think some of the things he's reported as saying in the New Testament are pretty cool. I especially like, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone" (John 8:7), the Sermon on the Mount and his many teachings on forgiveness.
I've also found a growing appreciation for Christianity in general; although I do tend to lean more towards the heterodox, which is precisely why I think Platonic rationality and Socratic dialectic would make a much better ethical and theological foundation than rigid, scriptural dogmatism. In fact, from what I've read, I bet Socrates and Jesus would've been best mates.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
a crisis of modernity?
I find it ironic people seem to be so worried about 'Islamic' groups taking power in the Middle East, but not about 'Christian' groups here. I have to wonder, is the Muslim Brotherhood really all that different from groups like the Fellowship (a.k.a., the Family)? Why should the Muslim Brotherhood be excluded from Egyptian politics? Or, conversely, why shouldn't groups like the Fellowship be excluded from American politics? If our rhetoric about freedom of religion and speech is to remain consistent, it needs to recognize the right of self-determination for all.
In political theory, self-determination is defined as "the right of a nation or people to determine its own form of government without influence from outside." In this case, we say that we support the people of Egypt in their fight for democracy against a dictator we actively supported with billions in military aid, and at the same time, we're speaking out against the threat of Islamic political organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood and trying to exclude them from taking part in the political process in Egypt. To be consistent with our rhetoric about freedom of religion and speech, we need to also recognize the right of self-determination for all, not just for those willing to support us.
If we're serious about promoting democracy, then the people of Egypt need to be able to freely determine their own government without the threat of external interference for it to be a truly democratic movement. They must be the ones to decide what their country is going to look like and who's going to be in charge of it. So I think it's rather hypocritical for the US to say that it supports the people of Egypt in their fight for democracy, but at the same time, tries to exclude Islamic political organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood from taking part in the political process, especially when we have Christian political organizations active here.
I think this just goes to show how hollow all our rhetoric about democracy really is. We want whoever will best promote US interests in power (which in this case is access to the Suez Canal and support for Israel), not necessarily who the people choose. That's one of the main reasons we supported an oppressive dictator like Mubarak for so long. We're worried about groups like the Muslim Brotherhood precisely because they're not very friendly towards Israel and are apparently willing to use the Suez Canal against us and them (most likely by disrupting trade and the distribution of Middle Eastern oil, as well as cutting off an important naval route).
Of course, none of this means that I support the Muslim Brotherhood or everything they stand for; I'm just trying to point out what I see to be the contradiction between our rhetoric and our actions when it comes to promoting democracy abroad. Basically, we're either for democracy or imperialism in regard to foreign policy; and while our rhetoric is very much in favour of the former, our actions seem to be clearly leaning towards the latter. We've been meddling in the affairs of Middle Eastern states since WWII, and our fear of losing what little hegemony we have left in the region is palpable. It's no wonder the Obama administration's statements were so conflicting during the beginning of the Egyptian revolution.
In political theory, self-determination is defined as "the right of a nation or people to determine its own form of government without influence from outside." In this case, we say that we support the people of Egypt in their fight for democracy against a dictator we actively supported with billions in military aid, and at the same time, we're speaking out against the threat of Islamic political organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood and trying to exclude them from taking part in the political process in Egypt. To be consistent with our rhetoric about freedom of religion and speech, we need to also recognize the right of self-determination for all, not just for those willing to support us.
If we're serious about promoting democracy, then the people of Egypt need to be able to freely determine their own government without the threat of external interference for it to be a truly democratic movement. They must be the ones to decide what their country is going to look like and who's going to be in charge of it. So I think it's rather hypocritical for the US to say that it supports the people of Egypt in their fight for democracy, but at the same time, tries to exclude Islamic political organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood from taking part in the political process, especially when we have Christian political organizations active here.
I think this just goes to show how hollow all our rhetoric about democracy really is. We want whoever will best promote US interests in power (which in this case is access to the Suez Canal and support for Israel), not necessarily who the people choose. That's one of the main reasons we supported an oppressive dictator like Mubarak for so long. We're worried about groups like the Muslim Brotherhood precisely because they're not very friendly towards Israel and are apparently willing to use the Suez Canal against us and them (most likely by disrupting trade and the distribution of Middle Eastern oil, as well as cutting off an important naval route).
Of course, none of this means that I support the Muslim Brotherhood or everything they stand for; I'm just trying to point out what I see to be the contradiction between our rhetoric and our actions when it comes to promoting democracy abroad. Basically, we're either for democracy or imperialism in regard to foreign policy; and while our rhetoric is very much in favour of the former, our actions seem to be clearly leaning towards the latter. We've been meddling in the affairs of Middle Eastern states since WWII, and our fear of losing what little hegemony we have left in the region is palpable. It's no wonder the Obama administration's statements were so conflicting during the beginning of the Egyptian revolution.
Monday, January 31, 2011
just another parasite
I think Ayn Rand's use of Social Security and Medicare may very well prove by example that her conception of capitalistic self-interest is ultimately self-refuting. And by 'capitalistic self-interest' I mean the idealization in her moral philosophy of greed (self-interest) over altruism (common good), competition over cooperation, privatization over public ownership, etc. In other words, it seems to me that it was in her best self-interest to take advantage of the very altruistic ideals and services she decried as a "basic evil."
Of course, one may counter that she already paid into the system, so she was entitled to receive those benefits and it was in her best interest to do so, meaning she wasn't a hypocrite and was still being true to her Objectivist philosophy despite receiving benefits. That may be true; however, I think it shows a weakness in her philosophy because (1) one can argue that most recipients of Social Security and Medicare pay into the system and are entitled to receive those benefits, and (2) even if she hadn't paid into the system via taxes, she probably still didn't make enough money as a writer to pay for her own surgery and other medical bills without risking financial ruin and there's no guarantee she would've invested the additional income in such as way as to support all her medical and living expenses.
The first weakness I see here is that she was vehemently opposed the system itself, which she viewed as morally wrong, and essentially called the people who use it "parasites," looters" and moochers." Part of this is based on the assumption that the money is taken from the heroic producers and given to lazy dead-beats who should've simply worked harder and saved for things like cancer surgery themselves. But, instead of doing that herself, she applied for and received benefits under the justification that, like most people who receive them, she'd already paid into the system and was therefore entitled to these benefits.
To me, this undermines the idea that the majority of people who use and otherwise perpetuate the system are "parasites," "looters" and "moochers" because they too have paid into the system, with payments based on lifetime earnings (which, of course, are taxed). If she isn't a parasite for using the system, then most of the people who use it aren't either. This includes people like my mother, who worked hard her whole life until she ended up getting sick and became unable to work.
The second weakness has to do with her illness itself. Rand was big on personal responsibility and the idea that we're responsible for making good decisions, along with reaping the fruits of our own labour. However, Rand herself basically ignored all the evidence that smoking was harmful, and eventually developed lung cancer. It seems to me that, according to her own philosophy, she should've taken responsibility for her smoking and paid for her own medical needs from the money she earned and saved from her writing career. Instead, she signed up for Social Security because she felt entitled to it. By that reasoning, everyone who pays into Social Security is entitled to it, including people who get sick from their own risky behaviour.
This, I think, undermines much of her moral philosophy when it comes to its stress on individualism and personal responsibility. If a successful writer has trouble paying her medical bills and needs help, why shouldn't everyone else who's worked hard but is still unable to afford all the care they need get it? What's so morally wrong with a system that attempts to provide such a safety net? Is a system of taxation and redistribution really more morally reprehensible than a system which lets the sick, poor and elderly die due to lack of means? Charity only goes so far.
I don't have an issue with people who are critical of the government's management of the system (it can definitely be improved), or even those who take the position that taxes are stealing (for those who don't wish to pay them, I suppose they are; although, I don't see how a complex, modern civil society can function without taxes, especially considering how interconnected everything is, and most people I know pay them willing). But I do have an issue with a moral philosophy that more or less blames the victim for being a victim.
Despite all her rhetoric, when push came to shove, she needed the state's help via the very same system of taxation and redistribution she decried as a basic evil, and was as much of a "parasite," "looter" and "moocher" as she accused other users of the system to be. Why? Because, ironically enough, it was in her best self-interest; the so-called "welfare state" that she spent her literary career attacking saved her life and allowed her to live another eight years railing against it. Instead of the productive hero, she became just another "parasite," only one intent on killing the host.
Of course, one may counter that she already paid into the system, so she was entitled to receive those benefits and it was in her best interest to do so, meaning she wasn't a hypocrite and was still being true to her Objectivist philosophy despite receiving benefits. That may be true; however, I think it shows a weakness in her philosophy because (1) one can argue that most recipients of Social Security and Medicare pay into the system and are entitled to receive those benefits, and (2) even if she hadn't paid into the system via taxes, she probably still didn't make enough money as a writer to pay for her own surgery and other medical bills without risking financial ruin and there's no guarantee she would've invested the additional income in such as way as to support all her medical and living expenses.
The first weakness I see here is that she was vehemently opposed the system itself, which she viewed as morally wrong, and essentially called the people who use it "parasites," looters" and moochers." Part of this is based on the assumption that the money is taken from the heroic producers and given to lazy dead-beats who should've simply worked harder and saved for things like cancer surgery themselves. But, instead of doing that herself, she applied for and received benefits under the justification that, like most people who receive them, she'd already paid into the system and was therefore entitled to these benefits.
To me, this undermines the idea that the majority of people who use and otherwise perpetuate the system are "parasites," "looters" and "moochers" because they too have paid into the system, with payments based on lifetime earnings (which, of course, are taxed). If she isn't a parasite for using the system, then most of the people who use it aren't either. This includes people like my mother, who worked hard her whole life until she ended up getting sick and became unable to work.
The second weakness has to do with her illness itself. Rand was big on personal responsibility and the idea that we're responsible for making good decisions, along with reaping the fruits of our own labour. However, Rand herself basically ignored all the evidence that smoking was harmful, and eventually developed lung cancer. It seems to me that, according to her own philosophy, she should've taken responsibility for her smoking and paid for her own medical needs from the money she earned and saved from her writing career. Instead, she signed up for Social Security because she felt entitled to it. By that reasoning, everyone who pays into Social Security is entitled to it, including people who get sick from their own risky behaviour.
This, I think, undermines much of her moral philosophy when it comes to its stress on individualism and personal responsibility. If a successful writer has trouble paying her medical bills and needs help, why shouldn't everyone else who's worked hard but is still unable to afford all the care they need get it? What's so morally wrong with a system that attempts to provide such a safety net? Is a system of taxation and redistribution really more morally reprehensible than a system which lets the sick, poor and elderly die due to lack of means? Charity only goes so far.
I don't have an issue with people who are critical of the government's management of the system (it can definitely be improved), or even those who take the position that taxes are stealing (for those who don't wish to pay them, I suppose they are; although, I don't see how a complex, modern civil society can function without taxes, especially considering how interconnected everything is, and most people I know pay them willing). But I do have an issue with a moral philosophy that more or less blames the victim for being a victim.
Despite all her rhetoric, when push came to shove, she needed the state's help via the very same system of taxation and redistribution she decried as a basic evil, and was as much of a "parasite," "looter" and "moocher" as she accused other users of the system to be. Why? Because, ironically enough, it was in her best self-interest; the so-called "welfare state" that she spent her literary career attacking saved her life and allowed her to live another eight years railing against it. Instead of the productive hero, she became just another "parasite," only one intent on killing the host.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
coffee, dreams and ice cream sandwiches
I'm at yet another crossroads in my life. Everything has changed. I've lost my job. I've lost my direction in life. I've lost my confidence in myself. I have so many new choices to make, and I'm so afraid of making the wrong ones, that most days I just sit and stare at the computer screen, hoping, waiting. For what, I don't know—something, anything: a sign, a vision, a kick in the ass.
In some ways it's exciting. I'm free to choose a new path. A new job, perhaps. Or maybe an extended stay at monastery; it's been so long since I've done that. I could visit my friends and family back in Michigan. And there's always Santa Cruz. I still know people there. But then there are practical matters that have to be considered as well. Time sensitive things like taxes, doctor's appointments, other things that I can't quite bring myself to think about right now. Same old, same old, I guess.
I think I like to procrastinate, putting off decisions and stressful situations until the very last moment, when I'm finally forced to deal with them. I hate being forced to make decisions. I hate having time limits. Tick, tick, tick, BUZZ! I also don't handle stress very well. It gives me stomach problems. I can already feel the tightness. And I haven't been sleeping well, either. Maybe it's depression. Who knows?
Guess what I had for breakfast today: an ice cream sandwich, and it was delicious. That's been the best part of my day so far. It's not important. It doesn't have any particular significance. It was just nice. How I cherish the simplicity of 'nice.' The older I get, the harder it seems for me to simply enjoy something for what it is, to ignore the incessant chatter in my mind. "How are you going to pay your bills?" "What if the doctor says you need surgery?" "If you don't visit now, you may not get another chance for a long time." "That ice cream will go straight to your hips." It never shuts up.
All this time has given me nothing but time to think. Think, think, think. Thinking too much is bad for you, I've decided. I've single-handedly thought myself into a lonely despair. I think the world is conspiring against me, even my friends and family. I have proof, you know. It's right here, all in my head, swimming with caffeine.
I want another cup of coffee, but I know it'll just make me jittery. More than one is never good for me if I'm not doing something, like working or talking to someone. I'd really like to have a nice chat over a cup of coffee right now. I haven't done that in a long time, either. A nice chat over a bottle of red wine might be even better. But I don't feel like wine. I feel like coffee. I love the way it smells. Its warmth. The way it can be smooth and bitter at the same time. Tea is nice, I suppose, but it's not quite the same. Maybe it's too subtle for me to fully appreciate.
I appreciate a lot of things, though, especially people. I appreciate people who can actually put up with me (the real me that is) seeing as they're so rare. (I've been told I'm too negative and it's true.) I appreciate the random acts of kindness that people show towards others, like the guy who gave me a free lunch when he found out I lost my job. I feel bad I don't even know his name. I appreciate the beauty of full-moons and the hope they can inspire (but don't tell Annie that, I'll never hear the end of it).
Life isn't all bad. It seems that way to me sometimes, but I know it's not true. It's just complicated. It doesn't have to be, but we make it that way. It's a strange compulsion, making life more complicated that it has to be. I think we do this in the name of progress, whatever that means. It doesn't mean much to be at the moment. I'm more interested in happiness. I think we all are, but I think we're confused about what real happiness is.
Happiness. A simple word for a simple concept, and yet it constantly eludes me. I wonder why that is? Maybe it's like that one saying, "You can chase a butterfly all over the field and never catch it. But if you sit quietly in the grass it will come and sit on your shoulder." Maybe it eludes me because I chase after it like a fool. But if you never chase your dreams, you'll never catch them, right? Dreams. Reminds me of a song: "Dreams, in the night, they're falling like rain / Dreams, in the night, they drive me insane."
Then again, you don't want to catch a cold. Maybe dreams are the same. Maybe they're not something you want to catch. Dream a Little Dream was a pretty awful movie, after all. But I sure could use a rebellious Corey Feldman kicking my subconscious in the ass or a stoic Jason Robards to help put my messed up life back together for me. If only life could be like the movies.
In some ways it's exciting. I'm free to choose a new path. A new job, perhaps. Or maybe an extended stay at monastery; it's been so long since I've done that. I could visit my friends and family back in Michigan. And there's always Santa Cruz. I still know people there. But then there are practical matters that have to be considered as well. Time sensitive things like taxes, doctor's appointments, other things that I can't quite bring myself to think about right now. Same old, same old, I guess.
I think I like to procrastinate, putting off decisions and stressful situations until the very last moment, when I'm finally forced to deal with them. I hate being forced to make decisions. I hate having time limits. Tick, tick, tick, BUZZ! I also don't handle stress very well. It gives me stomach problems. I can already feel the tightness. And I haven't been sleeping well, either. Maybe it's depression. Who knows?
Guess what I had for breakfast today: an ice cream sandwich, and it was delicious. That's been the best part of my day so far. It's not important. It doesn't have any particular significance. It was just nice. How I cherish the simplicity of 'nice.' The older I get, the harder it seems for me to simply enjoy something for what it is, to ignore the incessant chatter in my mind. "How are you going to pay your bills?" "What if the doctor says you need surgery?" "If you don't visit now, you may not get another chance for a long time." "That ice cream will go straight to your hips." It never shuts up.
All this time has given me nothing but time to think. Think, think, think. Thinking too much is bad for you, I've decided. I've single-handedly thought myself into a lonely despair. I think the world is conspiring against me, even my friends and family. I have proof, you know. It's right here, all in my head, swimming with caffeine.
I want another cup of coffee, but I know it'll just make me jittery. More than one is never good for me if I'm not doing something, like working or talking to someone. I'd really like to have a nice chat over a cup of coffee right now. I haven't done that in a long time, either. A nice chat over a bottle of red wine might be even better. But I don't feel like wine. I feel like coffee. I love the way it smells. Its warmth. The way it can be smooth and bitter at the same time. Tea is nice, I suppose, but it's not quite the same. Maybe it's too subtle for me to fully appreciate.
I appreciate a lot of things, though, especially people. I appreciate people who can actually put up with me (the real me that is) seeing as they're so rare. (I've been told I'm too negative and it's true.) I appreciate the random acts of kindness that people show towards others, like the guy who gave me a free lunch when he found out I lost my job. I feel bad I don't even know his name. I appreciate the beauty of full-moons and the hope they can inspire (but don't tell Annie that, I'll never hear the end of it).
Life isn't all bad. It seems that way to me sometimes, but I know it's not true. It's just complicated. It doesn't have to be, but we make it that way. It's a strange compulsion, making life more complicated that it has to be. I think we do this in the name of progress, whatever that means. It doesn't mean much to be at the moment. I'm more interested in happiness. I think we all are, but I think we're confused about what real happiness is.
Happiness. A simple word for a simple concept, and yet it constantly eludes me. I wonder why that is? Maybe it's like that one saying, "You can chase a butterfly all over the field and never catch it. But if you sit quietly in the grass it will come and sit on your shoulder." Maybe it eludes me because I chase after it like a fool. But if you never chase your dreams, you'll never catch them, right? Dreams. Reminds me of a song: "Dreams, in the night, they're falling like rain / Dreams, in the night, they drive me insane."
Then again, you don't want to catch a cold. Maybe dreams are the same. Maybe they're not something you want to catch. Dream a Little Dream was a pretty awful movie, after all. But I sure could use a rebellious Corey Feldman kicking my subconscious in the ass or a stoic Jason Robards to help put my messed up life back together for me. If only life could be like the movies.
Monday, January 10, 2011
relativity... no true centre... paper bag... fml
For anyone interested, here's a brief explanation of my underlying skepticism regarding objectivity that I sent to a friend of mine — which I originally attempted to reference while trying to make some bullshit ass argument up involving idealism, Darwinism, Buddhism, historical materialism, Zizek and the General Theory of Relativity — but came out as, "Relativity... no true centre... paper bag... Shit, just google 'relativity' and 'no true centre'!" Maybe someone more knowledgeable than myself can help me out here.
Since I did such a bad job of it at Bar of the Gods, I just want to clarify that what I was trying to say the other night concerning relativity is that, the way I see it, making truly objective statements when dealing with relative frames of reference can be problematic. For one thing, it raises questions like, Can certain statements really be said to be objectively true if and when their truth or validity is dependent upon the reference frame (or point of view) of the observer?
If, according to relativity, all reference frames are equally valid, many so-called objective statements become relative (i.e., based on the frame of reference of the observer). For example, the statement 'The Earth revolves around the Sun' is a seemingly objective one. It's a true and valid statement from a particular frame of reference. But at the same time, relativity states that there's no single, true frame of reference or centre to anything, so a geocentric frame (or one utilizing the entire solar system, for that mater) can be just as true and valid as a heliocentric—the mathematics work in any reference frame.
As Einstein puts it in his paper, The Foundation of the General Theory of Relativity, "That this requirement of general co-variance, which takes away from space and time the last remnant of physical objectivity, is a natural one, will be seen from the following reflexion (sic). All our space-time verifications invariably amount to a determination of space-time coincidences. Moreover, the results of our measurings are nothing but verifications of such meetings of the material points of our measuring instruments with other material points, coincidences between the hands of a clock and points on the clock-dial, and observed point-events happening at the same place at the same time. "
Of course, this doesn't mean that specific frames of reference aren't functionally more useful in certain contexts, or that a certain frames isn't a more accurate description of reality, but I do think it means that making truly objective statements about them can be tricky, especially when phrased sloppily. For example, the above statement, 'The Earth revolves around the Sun,' could be amended to say, 'For an observer who's at rest on the surface of the Sun, the Earth rotates around the Sun' and I think it'd be closer to the truth.
But relativity doesn't just make it difficult to make truly objective statements about observations regarding spatial relations; it has consequences in other areas as well, such as measurementation. Things like the observed length of an object, for example, actually depends on the speed of the observer with respect to the object, while similar variables affect an object's mass, which changes with velocity. This means that objective statements about these phenomena are more or less dependent upon specifically defined variables, which are often easier and more accurately expressed mathematically than verbally.
This doesn't mean I don't think there's an objective reality existing apart from my mind, or that we can't express that reality in words, but I do think that making truly objective statements about that reality is a difficult thing to do because I believe that (1) we often unconsciously project objective existence onto phenomena that aren't, in all actuality, independent of the frame of reference of the observer and (2) the ways in which we describe an objective truth can change based upon the amount and quality of the information we have (e.g., gravity as a pulling force vs. a curvature of space-time due to an object's mass.) And this is one of the reasons why I guess I have a difficult time rejecting certain aspects of postmodern thought.
Of course, this is a very muddled argument, and I'm sure my understanding of relativity is way off, but I'm using it mainly to illustrate some of the underlying ideas behind my tentative skepticism regarding objectivity. As much as I've argued against others about notions like objective truth being nothing more than inter-subjective agreement (e.g., arguing that the unknown contents of a paper bag is what it is regardless of what people may think and agree it is), I still find areas where postmodernism is harder to argue against, (e.g., the idea that, as observers, we're governed by perspectives).
Since I did such a bad job of it at Bar of the Gods, I just want to clarify that what I was trying to say the other night concerning relativity is that, the way I see it, making truly objective statements when dealing with relative frames of reference can be problematic. For one thing, it raises questions like, Can certain statements really be said to be objectively true if and when their truth or validity is dependent upon the reference frame (or point of view) of the observer?
If, according to relativity, all reference frames are equally valid, many so-called objective statements become relative (i.e., based on the frame of reference of the observer). For example, the statement 'The Earth revolves around the Sun' is a seemingly objective one. It's a true and valid statement from a particular frame of reference. But at the same time, relativity states that there's no single, true frame of reference or centre to anything, so a geocentric frame (or one utilizing the entire solar system, for that mater) can be just as true and valid as a heliocentric—the mathematics work in any reference frame.
As Einstein puts it in his paper, The Foundation of the General Theory of Relativity, "That this requirement of general co-variance, which takes away from space and time the last remnant of physical objectivity, is a natural one, will be seen from the following reflexion (sic). All our space-time verifications invariably amount to a determination of space-time coincidences. Moreover, the results of our measurings are nothing but verifications of such meetings of the material points of our measuring instruments with other material points, coincidences between the hands of a clock and points on the clock-dial, and observed point-events happening at the same place at the same time. "
Of course, this doesn't mean that specific frames of reference aren't functionally more useful in certain contexts, or that a certain frames isn't a more accurate description of reality, but I do think it means that making truly objective statements about them can be tricky, especially when phrased sloppily. For example, the above statement, 'The Earth revolves around the Sun,' could be amended to say, 'For an observer who's at rest on the surface of the Sun, the Earth rotates around the Sun' and I think it'd be closer to the truth.
But relativity doesn't just make it difficult to make truly objective statements about observations regarding spatial relations; it has consequences in other areas as well, such as measurementation. Things like the observed length of an object, for example, actually depends on the speed of the observer with respect to the object, while similar variables affect an object's mass, which changes with velocity. This means that objective statements about these phenomena are more or less dependent upon specifically defined variables, which are often easier and more accurately expressed mathematically than verbally.
This doesn't mean I don't think there's an objective reality existing apart from my mind, or that we can't express that reality in words, but I do think that making truly objective statements about that reality is a difficult thing to do because I believe that (1) we often unconsciously project objective existence onto phenomena that aren't, in all actuality, independent of the frame of reference of the observer and (2) the ways in which we describe an objective truth can change based upon the amount and quality of the information we have (e.g., gravity as a pulling force vs. a curvature of space-time due to an object's mass.) And this is one of the reasons why I guess I have a difficult time rejecting certain aspects of postmodern thought.
Of course, this is a very muddled argument, and I'm sure my understanding of relativity is way off, but I'm using it mainly to illustrate some of the underlying ideas behind my tentative skepticism regarding objectivity. As much as I've argued against others about notions like objective truth being nothing more than inter-subjective agreement (e.g., arguing that the unknown contents of a paper bag is what it is regardless of what people may think and agree it is), I still find areas where postmodernism is harder to argue against, (e.g., the idea that, as observers, we're governed by perspectives).
Saturday, December 25, 2010
merry christmas
To be honest, I don't believe in a creator God, nor, as a consequence, do I believe that Jesus is the son of God/God in the flesh. Nevertheless, I do have a soft spot for Jesus as a spiritual teacher, and I think some of the things he's reported as saying in the New Testament are pretty cool—I especially like, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone" (John 8:7), the Sermon on the Mount and his many teachings on forgiveness.
I've also found a growing appreciation for Christianity in general (although I do tend to lean more towards the heterodox), thanks in part to my dear friend, Simon (e.g., see my fairly recent blog post, "a new found appreciation").
That said, it's mainly because this day isn't just about the birth of Jesus that I find myself 'getting into the Christmas spirit.' Not only was this a time of celebration for a host of other ancient winter festivals (e.g., Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, Saturnalia, Yule, etc.), but it's the season that in modern times has been traditionally set aside for warm tidings and communion, regardless of who you are or what you believe, which is why I don't have any qualms about wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas.
I've also found a growing appreciation for Christianity in general (although I do tend to lean more towards the heterodox), thanks in part to my dear friend, Simon (e.g., see my fairly recent blog post, "a new found appreciation").
That said, it's mainly because this day isn't just about the birth of Jesus that I find myself 'getting into the Christmas spirit.' Not only was this a time of celebration for a host of other ancient winter festivals (e.g., Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, Saturnalia, Yule, etc.), but it's the season that in modern times has been traditionally set aside for warm tidings and communion, regardless of who you are or what you believe, which is why I don't have any qualms about wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 10, 2010
need over greed: just say no to extending tax cuts for the wealthy
Today I was listening to parts of Senator Bernie Sanders' 8 1/2 hour filibuster (well, not technically since the vote isn't scheduled until Monday) of President Obama's tax cut deal with Republicans (calling it "Robin Hood in reverse") and found myself agreeing with a lot of what he said.
Nevertheless, there's a lot of support for the deal among Democrats since it also includes an extension of unemployment benefits for an additional 13 months, and most conservatives (as well as many liberals) believe that raising taxes during a recession for anyone, especially the wealthy, is a terrible idea. I don't necessarily agree with that, though, and here's why:
A. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, the recession is over, and has been since June 2009.
B. The tax cuts, which were unfunded and arguably removed a substantial amount of revenue from the federal budget, were meant to be temporary. Taxes wouldn't be 'raised' so much as they'd simply go back to 2003 rates once they naturally expire at the end of this year.
C. I think some good arguments can be made for allowing the tax cuts to expire for people making more than $250,000 a year while extending the ones for those making less. For one thing, people making less than $250,000 generally spend a larger portion of their income instead of saving it (mostly out of necessity), which helps to stimulate the economy (for those of you who get excited about that kind of thing).
Conversely, according to an article in Bloomberg, tax cuts for people making considerably more don't really do much to help to stimulate the economy because, much like Plato's oligarch in the Republic, they tend to save (read 'hoard') it.
In addition, worker's average real wages (i.e., wages that are adjusted for inflation) rose every decade from 1820 to 1970, but have essentially stagnated for the last 30 years. Moreover, the majority of the increase in income there has been since 1980 (about 80%) has gone to the top 1%, and according to an article in Slate, "virtually none of the increase translated into wage growth at middle and lower incomes."
D. As Warren Buffet famously pointed out, the top 1% pay a lower percentage of their income in taxes than people who make considerably less. Using himself as an example, he paid 17.7% on the $46 million he made in 2007 while his secretary paid 30% on the $60,000 she made in the same year.
I think this is mainly due to the fact that the wealthiest Americans get the majority of their income from capital gains (e.g., Gerald Scorse points out that the top 1% owns nearly 40% of all privately held stock), which is taxed at a much lower rate than wages. Plus, there are a variety of deductions and loopholes that favour those at the top.
E. According to Donald Cohen, executive director for the Center on Policy Initiatives, this is the first time in our nation's history that we've "sent troops to battle without raising the revenues needed to fight that war."
Since 1812, the US government has either raised existing rates or instituted new taxes during wartime in order to fund its war efforts; however, Bush, in the midst of 2 separate conflicts, actually cut taxes. The more than $1 trillion dollars we've spent to fund the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan is essentially money that we've borrowed, particularly from countries like China and Japan.
What all of this means to me is that, at the very least, we shouldn't allow these tax cuts to become permanent. And if there is to be some sort of extension, I think it makes more sense to extend them for the people who'll actually spend the additional income (and who arguably need it more), thereby spurring demand and stimulating the economy, rather than the people who'll most likely tuck it away (and who arguable need it less).
That's why I completely agree with Sen. Sanders that instead of fighting to extend the unfunded Bush-era tax cuts — particularly for those making over $250,000 — Congress should be focusing on extending unemployment benefits for the over 2 million out of work Americans who desperately need it.
Nevertheless, there's a lot of support for the deal among Democrats since it also includes an extension of unemployment benefits for an additional 13 months, and most conservatives (as well as many liberals) believe that raising taxes during a recession for anyone, especially the wealthy, is a terrible idea. I don't necessarily agree with that, though, and here's why:
A. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, the recession is over, and has been since June 2009.
B. The tax cuts, which were unfunded and arguably removed a substantial amount of revenue from the federal budget, were meant to be temporary. Taxes wouldn't be 'raised' so much as they'd simply go back to 2003 rates once they naturally expire at the end of this year.
C. I think some good arguments can be made for allowing the tax cuts to expire for people making more than $250,000 a year while extending the ones for those making less. For one thing, people making less than $250,000 generally spend a larger portion of their income instead of saving it (mostly out of necessity), which helps to stimulate the economy (for those of you who get excited about that kind of thing).
Conversely, according to an article in Bloomberg, tax cuts for people making considerably more don't really do much to help to stimulate the economy because, much like Plato's oligarch in the Republic, they tend to save (read 'hoard') it.
In addition, worker's average real wages (i.e., wages that are adjusted for inflation) rose every decade from 1820 to 1970, but have essentially stagnated for the last 30 years. Moreover, the majority of the increase in income there has been since 1980 (about 80%) has gone to the top 1%, and according to an article in Slate, "virtually none of the increase translated into wage growth at middle and lower incomes."
D. As Warren Buffet famously pointed out, the top 1% pay a lower percentage of their income in taxes than people who make considerably less. Using himself as an example, he paid 17.7% on the $46 million he made in 2007 while his secretary paid 30% on the $60,000 she made in the same year.
I think this is mainly due to the fact that the wealthiest Americans get the majority of their income from capital gains (e.g., Gerald Scorse points out that the top 1% owns nearly 40% of all privately held stock), which is taxed at a much lower rate than wages. Plus, there are a variety of deductions and loopholes that favour those at the top.
E. According to Donald Cohen, executive director for the Center on Policy Initiatives, this is the first time in our nation's history that we've "sent troops to battle without raising the revenues needed to fight that war."
Since 1812, the US government has either raised existing rates or instituted new taxes during wartime in order to fund its war efforts; however, Bush, in the midst of 2 separate conflicts, actually cut taxes. The more than $1 trillion dollars we've spent to fund the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan is essentially money that we've borrowed, particularly from countries like China and Japan.
What all of this means to me is that, at the very least, we shouldn't allow these tax cuts to become permanent. And if there is to be some sort of extension, I think it makes more sense to extend them for the people who'll actually spend the additional income (and who arguably need it more), thereby spurring demand and stimulating the economy, rather than the people who'll most likely tuck it away (and who arguable need it less).
That's why I completely agree with Sen. Sanders that instead of fighting to extend the unfunded Bush-era tax cuts — particularly for those making over $250,000 — Congress should be focusing on extending unemployment benefits for the over 2 million out of work Americans who desperately need it.
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