Archive for the philosophy Category

The Power of Political Diversity

Posted in philosophy, politics with tags , , , , , on January 8, 2009 by pretnetus

Jared Diamond’s seminal Guns, Germs, and Steel provides a holistic thesis on the origins of all political history from pre-history into the modern era. His argument is a modified form of Climatic Determinism, which means, as he presents it, that environment determines history in the long run. Certain areas of the world, especially Eurasia, possess a greater variety of and more effective crops and livestock. These factors allowed Eurasians to build civilization the fastest and then conquer cultures living on other continents through the accumulation of technology and deadly germs. Crops and livestock allowed technology and germs to develop by facilitating greater population density and classes of people performing work besides the production of food. These factors explain history up to the sixteenth century, at which point European dominance became established.

Diamond stresses history since then far less. The general road history was about to take seemed predestined by the time Spain effortlessly exerted its control over the civilizations of South and Central America. One diatribe he does allow himself is the explanation as to why it was Europe and not China that succeeded in projecting dominance across the world. After all, China had been at the forefront of nearly all technological advance for several thousands of years. It was not until the early modern era that Europe pulled ahead. Diamond asks why that shift took place, given that there were seemingly no environmental factors that would push the societies in opposite directions.

The conclusion Diamond eventually comes to was that the natural political unity of China, which had at times provided ample opportunity for technological innovation, would occasionally stifle change significantly. To make this point, he cites an analogous situation in Japan. At one point in history, Japan had the best firearms in the world. However, culturally, they were scorned since they allowed a lowly peasant to take down a mighty Samurai. This subversion of social custom caused Japan’s government to take action, gradually eliminating guns altogether from the island. The key element to this is the Japanese government’s ability to make such a decision. Elsewhere in the world, such as the Fertile Crescent or Europe, any government that makes such a self-defeating decision (given that guns are innately more effective weapons than even the best sword) is either forced to reverse course at the risk of getting conquered by a nearby competing government. China faced a similar impediment; while it was not an island, China did not face major competition from any other competing, centralized power.

There were points in history that China did begin exploration. In short time, however, a competing faction within the government ended any such experimentation. Exploration was never again allowed until Europeans forced their way in. China’s centralization permitted it to act stubbornly and self-defeating. If there was another nearby competing power, or if China was naturally split into several smaller factions, one of them may have chosen to continue exploration, followed by a run of East Asian dominance throughout the world.

The geography of Europe took its inhabitants on a different path. At no point ever in history has more than half of the continent been held by a single power. While parts of Western Europe are somewhat flat, the geography of the continent is characterized by an unending coast of peninsulas. In contrast to China, this makes conquering every area a difficult task. Europe’s natural condition involves a multitude of competing powers. Again, in contrast to China and Japan, this means that if one begins using guns, they all must begin using guns to defend themselves. All nations are pushed towards progress under threat of destruction.

The best example of this, and one that Diamond cites especially well, is that of Columbus. Portugal, Genoa, and Venice all initially turned the funding for Columbus down. Spain as well left Columbus hanging for two years until finally agreeing to support him. If only a single government ruled Europe, would that single arbiter funded him? Based on Columbus’s experience and the tepid interest in East Asia, such action hardly seems likely.

The force that gave Europe its power was its lack of a single decision-making body speaking for all its peoples. The lack of supernational power gave Europe its power. Such a fact runs completely against the intuition of the historians studying this era, who see centralization of states as the cause of the rise of certain European nations (England, Spain, Austria, and France) over the unorganized states of Germany, Poland, Italy. Yet, this is only the cause of the relative power of states over others. Furthermore, the centralization only pertains to the ultimate subjugation of the noble’s power bases to a single government, not steps of centralizing authority within Europe as a whole. The lack of a central authority within Europe gave each of its members greater strength from and absolute perspective.

Imperialism, science, the Industrial Revolution, capitalism, and any small improvement thereof forced its way through Europe, rapidly providing it with the means to rule the globe. This is the power of political diversity. When there are multiple perspectives available, such the differences of opinion amongst the various European despots, a greater variety of strategies and options can be pursued. No matter how a single government attempts to construct itself to remain open to new opportunities, the intrinsic insularity of set single voices will result in bias. At that point in history, any given European nation could decide to begin experimenting with some new form of mercantilism or representative body. In doing so, all of its neighbor nations had the opportunity to gauge independently its effectiveness. While the nation may hope that its commitments and experiments were those that succeeded, its population still gained tremendously when a nation elsewhere found another solution.

The diversity and dissolution of power in Europe as a whole brought it wealth and prosperity. The technological level of the world would be set back seven hundred years had the decentralization of power not existed. These gifts, of course, are ones that can keep on giving. While the mixed-market capitalism and political systems of Westernized nations are all roughly comparable at this point, we still have the opportunity to experiment and watch one another. Perhaps no better modern example is that of the failure of economic planning within China and the Soviet Union. The world as a whole fortunately did not have to resort to a universal change in political philosophy to see it in action. Had Marxism worked, all other nations could then take advantage of that knowledge. Now, even the remaining socialists are able to take into consideration the difficulties the Soviets faced when further developing their own ideas.

While in the past many logistic barriers impeded the spread of a single government over the Earth effectively impossible, it now is seemingly feasible should the peoples of all existing nations accept it. The growth of the EU and the murmurs of a similar (although remarkably unlikely) North American state demonstrate that. Yet, what history tells us about the power of political diversity does not recommend further movement in that direction. The EU has not yet run into this problem very much given their rightful infatuation with subsidiarity, but greater impediments placed on the powers of the member states will quickly inhibit Europe’s -and humanity’s- ability to experiment with different methods in doing anything from escaping the current economic quagmire to achieving greater social justice. At this point in time, whatever our opinions are, we cannot know how to fix our financial mess and grease the wheels of exchange once more. It is an unambiguous positive that there are many independent nations that can seek their own solution to the problem. The importance of this power cannot be understated.

Even more damaging to political diversity is the viewpoint of those such as George Soros who wish to unite the world under a single government. While arguably this could lead to a reduction in war and genocide, it will also strangle our ability to experiment with new social structures. Nothing is keeping a world government from making a self-defeating decision except our hope that its decision makers approach godlike prescience. The current institutional technology we possess such as democracy and the mixed-market economy would be frozen in place, or at the most advance should the single decision making body agree to change. The world may still continue developing marketable technologies as it has done in the past, but there is little possibility in further optimization of the structure of society that facilitates those technologies to begin with.

There is, of course, no hard evidence demonstrating that the systematic improvements continually brought about by political diversity will outweigh the stability and peace which a one world government promises. At the same time, it is a very real factor that separates the affluence of today from the poverty of the early modern era. Any discussion about merging political powers must take political diversity into consideration. The greater number of independant entities there are willing to commit to new societal structures, the more everyone knows about what real effects those structures will have. With more political exploration, even if we’re not the ones doing it, we’re all better off.

Self-Interest

Posted in Economics, Morality, philosophy with tags , , , , , , on September 21, 2008 by pretnetus

Adam Smith’s Invisible Hand is an effective metaphor in describing how selfish individuals benefit society within the free market. In seeking profit (though not in seeking rent), the entrepreneur pushes costs down for everyone. The selfish entrepreneur gets a bigger piece of economic pie, but in doing so he makes the pie bigger.

This is a cliche, well known by anyone who has spent time studying Classical Economics. The way commentators frequently portray the metaphor, however, causes a great deal of confusion. Smith didn’t want to imply that it is good for entrepreneurs to be selfish. He was saying that, even if you assume the worst in people, profit-seeking behavior is beneficial for everyone. Such selfishness is completely separate from the economic conception of rationality and self-interest.

The difference selfishness and self-interest is very subtle. Selfishness, which is unequivocally not a virtue, provides for one’s own desires alone. In comparison, self-interest provides for one’s values. These values could be feeding the poor, saving the environment, spreading a faith, stopping disease, or any act of concern outside of yourself. They can also be buying a boat. If you do not spend any time or income on anyone but yourself, then yes, such behavior is selfish. Economic theory does not depend on individual actors to be miserly and selfish, but interested in effectively spending their income on the goods, services, and causes they value and in expanding their individual income so that they may continue to do so.

Others have made this delineation elsewhere, but social scientists, moralists, and even some professional economists screw this up. For example, here. Smith, after all, was himself a moralist. A common caricature of a capitalist is an unyielding, power-hungry, cutthroat monster counting his coins for the sake of procuring more coins. Such characterization ignores what many successful entrepreneurs do with their wealth, whose excess allows the possibility of substantial charitable endowments. Of course, there are certain wealthy individuals who do not donate much of anything. Yes, there are selfish rich people out there. That has nothing to do with the morality of self-interest. Whatever our income level, we spend it on what we value most.

The values fueling our individual economic actions, whether that is renting or owning, going to a movie or giving to charity, or visiting family or traveling Europe, are what makes them rational. The choice and the consequences of the choice are born out of the person making the choice. An individual chooses renting an apartment, going to a movie, and visiting family because they are what he values. Hence, they are based on something and thus rational. If another person chooses owning a condo, giving to charity, and traveling Europe, it is equally rational. Questions of whether it is cosmically right to rent, go to a movie, or visit family are completely irrelevant in asking whether they are rational in an economic sense.

Self-interest and rationality are the same concept, viewed from different angles. “Self-interest” defines the heuristic (will this promote what I think is right?) and “rationality” characterizes the decision (was it the same person who made the decision and who lived with the consequences?).  This is what makes a market “rational”. If society allows each individual to decide whether she should buy milk today, the market for milk is rational. Again, it doesn’t matter whether the person had enough milk already, will just let it spoil, or is planning on feeding it to her goldfish. The freedom to pursue her values renders the market rational.

When the government involves itself in the decision-making process, markets are no longer rational. If a town votes to build a bridge, those who voted against it still must pay. If the town then wants to toll the bridge, how much should it toll? If they price it like a monopoly would (which the bridge presumably is), they would be maximizing the revenue for the town, but not maximizing welfare. If they estimate how much it would cost in a perfectly competitive environment, welfare is maximized, but only helps those who can afford to pay the toll. If the price is set as free or otherwise below the average total cost, too many people will use the bridge. Choosing between these options is not simple. If the bridge was privately owned, the decision would have a clear basis. The person who spent the money on the bridge would weigh pure profit maximization against his civic duty. When a simple majority or politicians take the place of individuals, rationality is lost.

It may be possible for government involvement to be desirable, but it will always remain arbitrary. There is rarely a reason why today one value set may win out over another politically. Some may want a bridge to save time and relieve congestion. Others don’t want it because they won’t use it or because they don’t want more cars on the road. Depending on the circumstances, one side may be right from society’s standpoint as a whole, but which direction voters choose in practice could be anything but that. Still, town selectmen may look at the evidence and are unable to conceive of a situation where building the bridge is not a net positive for the public. They must simply keep the true arbitrariness of the action in the back of their minds before freely going forward with the spending.

We no longer expect atheists to give monetarily to churches. Expecting people who don’t prioritize the environment to pay for cleaning it up is analogous. Claims of science aside, spending income on religion is no less rational than spending it on the environment. Cosmically, such spending is ultimately true or untrue, but self-interest motivates either.

Rational Opinion-Forming

Posted in Epistemology, logic, philosophy, politics with tags , , , , , , on September 16, 2008 by pretnetus

Uncertainty differentiates opinions and facts. In truth, there always exists a degree of uncertainty in any assertion. The overly skeptical among us point out that the only reason why we believe China exists is that other people have told us it does, and even if we traveled there, you cannot know that the place we actually went to was China, per se. The blurred line of where facts end and opinions begin further confound the question. Are “facts”, like the existence of China or photosynthesis, only those for which there is no disagreement outside of the solipsist circles? Can we also include historical events, such as the Appollo Moon Landing, which a sizable portion of westerners may disbelieve? Where exactly one draws the line is immaterial so long as one applies it consistently. The important thing is that uncertainty differentiates fact and opinion.

Let’s say you’re “line” is 99.5%, which would mean you are okay with believing something you take as fact to be false one in two hundred times [aside- that isn't quite mathematically true, as only the marginal -i.e. those that have exactly a probability of 99.5%- would be wrong one in two hundred times, but that is only important pedantically. this is for illustrative purposes.]. The probabilities to which you’ve assigned a theory, whether it is 99.9999999999% that the world is not flat or 75% that Obama would be a better candidate than McCain, have a specific statistical definition. They are known as a subjective, or Bayesian, probabilities. Even if you do not explicitly assign a number to how sure you are of any opinions, a truth-seeking mind invisibly thinks in such a matter.

This comes into conflict with how many pseudo-intellectuals view logical fallacies. Certain fallacies, such as guilty by association, appeal to the majority, appeal to authority and correlation does not imply causation do not firmly push an argument in one direction or another in any circumstance. However, this in turn does not mean that they should not affect your view at all. Subjective probabilities are all about bringing all relevant information into your mind, assigning the information weights, and coming to a conclusion. The reasonably strong (although not perfect) scientific consensus on global warming means something, even to an informed adult who can understand the literature and formulate a real opinion. The logical fallacy tells us wisely that the weight shouldn’t be infinite, but Bayesian inference tells us that it musn’t at the same time be zero.

There are times when all the evidence we’ve got in either direction are functions of intuition and “fallacies”. Proving or disproving the existence of God provides a watershed of such arguments that, while not argumentatively rigid, do mean something. Rather than listing them, I’ll point here and here. How much weight an individual places on each should determine the direction of their belief, which in turn results in a subjective probability.

The “wobbliness” of each proof does not necessitate agnosticism, but is very instructive of the uncertainty we share in forming any opinion at all. Analogously, this wobbliness appears in questions such as abortion, where we must weigh the fetus’s right to life against the woman’s right to her own body, whatever either of statements really mean. It doesn’t imply that we are to form no opinion whatsoever.

Informally, when we formulate opinions internally, some logical fallacies stop being fallacious. However, there are certain heuristics that appear to hold subjective meaning, but in reality mean literally nothing. Rather than bits and pieces of extraneous information that could conceivably point to truth, such as invoking the opinion of the masses, they are lies. Primarily,

  1. Confirmation Bias. To selectively choose history and events that match preconcieved notions, rather than forming opinions through empirics or reason. Thomas Sowell refers to confirmation bias in the scope of empirics as “a-ha statistics”, providing the excellent imagery of a reader perusing the entirety of the newspaper for the few facts that he can point to and say, “a-ha, I knew it all along!”. Evidence to the contrary is subsequently considered chance.
  2. Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s “Narrative Fallacy“. Wikipedia gives a very incomplete reference, so I’ll go into more detail on this one. It is the notion that humans look for history to fit into an easily explained narrative, rather than an inconcievably complex entity whose infinite factors and caprice bend in whichever direction for no other reason than they do. Taleb cites, as a starting point, an Italian academic who enjoyed one of Taleb’s earlier works and describes how well it verbalizes the role of randomness rather than reason in success. He then goes on to explain how Taleb could only see this through his upbringing in Lebenon rather than white, Protestant America. Taleb initially agrees, only to realize that such an explanation is ironically against the very role of randomness he argues. Locking onto a single explanatory variable, rather than accepting the existence of multitudes of reasons, gears an individual to a singular, simplistic understanding of what is true, one inflexible to any further incremental information. By perversely believing that whatever chosen variable is the entirety of the truth, he closes himself off to any further information.
  3. Monday Morning Quarterback.  Taking past events as inevitable and providing baseless, haughty commentary. By itself, it isn’t all that dangerous besides being absolutely asinine, but when combined with a couple shots of confirmation bias, truth gets thrown out the window altogether. If you go through life thinking that everything is predictable, selecting for the instances that you may have possibly predicted it, all conversation stops and everything in the future becomes an exercise in reinforcing the opinions you already had.
  4. Demonization. By ascribing the viewpoints of another to evilness rather than the argument they actually make or resort to pure epithets, no one is getting anywhere. If you actually start believing such perverions of truth (see: Bush), you’re going to think perpetually that half the country is evil and/or stupid. To categorically demonize a point of view is to shove your head in the sand.

These four aren’t the only failures in forming personal opinions, but they are the big ones. Their commonality is their desire to simplify the world into discrete, predictable events inevitably falling in tune with the grand score of life, rather than the cacophony we actually live. Evaluating events and facts as they occur, rather than fitting them to something we can readily understand, is the only way Bayesian reasoning can actually work.

There isn’t anything wrong with taking a piece of information that we honestly believe under consideration. To stuffy logicians, these pieces may be irrelevant, but in the real world of uncertainty, they aren’t. Yet, when our minds stop doing the interpreting and weighing of these facts, and instead ignore or force new information into preconcieved ideals, we lose everything. Subjective probability is the only way the human mind can understand the world, but even such forgiving standards are blemished by certain caveats.

Impostor Art

Posted in Art, philosophy with tags , , , , , on September 6, 2008 by pretnetus

Popularly, when nonintellectuals wish to praise their most cherished books, movies, music, or any other media, they characterize it as “art”. If questioned as to why The Royal Tenanbaums or OK Computer is art, they frequently cite how stimulating it is to experience or the virtuosity of its creators. If further pressed, they may retreat into one of two implicit arguments:

  1. Art is a synonym for “really good media”
  2. Art is subjective

The first can be dismissed out of hand. “Art” is a very loaded word and it invokes pretenses of intellectualism and meaning. If one wants to communicate that a piece of media is merely very good, there are a few thousand other more accurate adjectives to say so, lest “art”, much like “awesome”, “fantastic”, and “terrific”, loses any connotation beyond an undefined, but extreme degree, of goodness.

The second position has far more merit and is the shared opinion of many academics. It asserts what I assert, that art’s unique ability to communicate defines it. For example, Picasso’s Guernica and Dostoevski’s The Brothers Karamazov present a view of the world that the audience could never understand equally as well through prose alone. However, the subjective view takes it one step further, fracturing into many possible standpoints. It may contend that,

  1. The artist’s intentions and abilities are irrelevant and its message is whatever interpreters agree is the best interpretation.
  2. All interpretations of the meaning of a work are equally valid so long as the specific interpretation can sufficiently cite the work.
  3. The experience of any emotional “meaning” through any media turns the media into art, regardless of one’s ability to cite reasoning within the text (literal or metaphorical) or even to put specific words to what that meaning is.

(1) is what most academics mean by referring to art as subjective and is not a viewpoint with which I totally disagree. Other academics may mean (2) if they have an affinity towards relativism. (3) is in another ballpark all its own, the equivalent of showing up in Wembly Stadium with an intention to watch hockey. This definition is completely uncritical and self-affirming, neutering the word of any meaning it may have had. To paraphrase The Incredibles and others, if everything is art, nothing is art.

If art communicates something only you personally can understand, it really isn’t communicating anything at all. A beautiful waterfall, rock formation, or ocean view has its merits, but it doesn’t “communicate” in any true sense beyond pleasantries like “nature is trying to tell me something”. Your ability to take a look at a mountain and realize you need to change careers or marry the girl is a function of you talking to yourself, not the mountain telling you something you didn’t already know. True art is not a mountain, existing out of chance and the dalliances of nature, but a communication of truth above and beyond your preexisting knowledge base. Whether or not the author intended that specific message is immaterial.

Modern “art” that is only art in that meaningless third sense abounds in the popular culture of the young, educated adults who should really know better. Even worse, it often seems like the “art” is designed specifically so that it sounds meaningful, without possessing any meaning in particular, making it especially malleable for those inclined to such vagueness. Although I won’t go into detail on any of these, here is a list of such titular impostor art popular today.

There are several common threads running through these. Their underlying dishonesty is the presentation of a vague emotional detachment from modernity and artful dodging or jousting when it comes time to ask why the emotional detachment is so vague. The “artists” or their fans may pretend that the vagueness is an analogue for profundity, which it is as much as the emperor’s clothing was gold.

For example, Reckoner by Radiohead.

Reckoner
You can’t take it with you
Disavow the pleasure

You were not to blame for
Bittersweet distractos
Dare not speak his name
Dedicated to all you, all your needs

Because we separate
It ripples our reflections
Because we separate
It ripples our reflections

Reckoner
Dedicated to all you, all your needs

I’ve listened to this song far more times than I would prefer to admit. The sullenness of Yorke’s voice just sucks you in. The important question is, what the hell does it mean? That the modern world is sad and impersonal and we just need to find a true love to get us through our ridiculous lives, like the “meaning” of the majority of “art” I listed?

I don’t consider myself some literary savant, but can ANYONE tell me what the song is supposed to mean without being flippant about it?

To cite another specific example, here are the lyrics from Politik by Coldplay

Look at the earth from outer space
Everyone must find a place
Give me time and give me space
Give me real don’t give me fake
Give me strength, reserve control
Give me heart and give me soul
Give me time, give us a kiss
Tell me your own politik

And open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes

Give me one ’cause one is best
In confusion, confidence
Give me peace of mind and trust
Don’t forget the rest us
Give me strength, reserve control
Give me heart and give me soul
Wounds that heal and cracks that fix
Tell me your own politik

And open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes
Just open up your eyes

But give me love over, love over, love over this

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse, but there is something fundamentally different than pretty sounding words and something that actually has meaning behind it. Look at the ingenious foresight and subtlety that went into something like Prufrock or Lyrical Ballads and tell me that Garden State belongs in the same category as either.  There is a sharp distinction between the former two, which explain fundamental aspects of the human condition, and the latter, which tells us, that dude, you just gotta live life. That distinction, the place where you draw the line, is where art begins.

I’ll reveal a couple clues that often suggest you might be enjoying impostor art.

If the “artist” refuses to discuss the meaning of his work or gives intentionally vague responses, acting as if the discussion is beneath him, you might be enjoying impostor art.

If ostentatious wordplay or similar virtuosity is the focal point of the “artist’s” oeuvre, you might be enjoying impostor art.

If you’re reading/listening to lyrics that smell oddly familiar to a poem you were forced to read in 11th grade, but you cannot make out any real meaning to the lyrics despite years more wisdom, you might be enjoying impostor art.

If the protagonist in the movie you’re watching comes from a rich background and acts unnaturally stilted in speech or mannerism, you might be enjoying impostor art.

If the “art’s” focus is to set up the “artist” so she can deliver clever, snide comments about mainstream values, which upon consideration, have absolutely no factual basis at all, you might be enjoying imposter art.

Art either implies profundity or has no rhetorical meaning at all. By uncritically accepting whatever band, artist, novelist, or filmmaker is presented to us as artistic, we corrupt the accuracy of any definition of art we may have had. Anointing any media we happen to identify with as “art” is ridiculously elitist, if you think about it. If you don’t enjoy thoughtful, cerebral art – true art – that’s fine. Just please don’t insist that The Brothers Karamazov isn’t art any more art than Juno is.