I recently started tutoring at a centre, where I work with some very bright teens. It's been very rewarding and has reconnected me with parts of myself I had long forgotten. Getting back in touch with the artsy, introverted, dilettante teen with a penchant for magical thinking I used to be has helped me relax and given me a lot of perspective of life. Since one of my students' families is facing a divorce, however, it has also dug up some old questions.
When asked if divorced parents still love each other, it brought on a flashback of decades of inquiry. My parents divorced when I was seven-the perfect age to reflect on theoretical ideas about limits and transitions, like 'when does the fridge door light turn on, exactly?' And 'at what point does food become vomit?'- and I couldn't help but wonder when and how love stopped being love, and what love is anyway. I thought perhaps I could understand it by seeing it come into being, but love of the parental variety was a love I had been thrown into since before I could remember, and the formation of love of the romantic variety remained cryptic, with Disney movies offering little (and often inaccurate!) information through third-party observation.
Liking was easy: when someone has character traits you admired, you liked them. I understood what affection was: it was a phenomenon you could easily point out. And of course there were social norms surrounding love. I knew I loved my mom because that was how children are supposed to feel about their parents, and when my step-dad came into the picture it was implied that that was how I was supposed to feel about him. I knew I was supposed to fall in love with Mr. Right but I would only know when because I 'felt it'.
So I stumbled through my teen years trying to understand the feeling and making lots of mistakes along the way (what else are teen years for?), until in university I finally met 'Mr. Right'. Needless to say it was less than reassuring for him to hear that despite knowing I loved him, I didn't know what love was.
At my cousin's wedding ceremony vows I finally heard an answer that I felt was acceptable. Perhaps I accepted it because it seemed convincing, or perhaps I accepted it because my questioning was hurting others around me (a common problem for philosophical types, I think) the answer was that love is a decision we make. Love was a commitment to act towards others in a certain way. This matched my experiences: I made commitments to the people in my life that I loved, and when my parents divorced, they decided that commitment wasn't something they could do or wanted to do anymore.
Except one thing: a retort that was painfully obvious in the face of this student. If love was just a decision we made, some kind of commitment we choose to participate in or not, then how was it possible to find ourselves at the mercy of incredible heartbreak when things fell apart? Love is something that grabs us and has control over us, it can't simply be opted into and out of. And when our relationships fall apart, what's left behind is a kind of emotional cognitive dissonance, where our hearts simply cannot catch up to reality.
I still don't understand what love is. Perhaps it is something beyond mere intellectualization, but I still want to understand it. I'm not happy with vague accounts that say 'when it happens you'll know', but on the other hand perhaps it is something that can only be understood through experience. Even if sometimes that experience can be incredibly painful.
Wednesday, 21 May 2014
Sunday, 12 January 2014
"Taxpayer"
As part of my concurrent education program in undergrad, our class also earned an ECE (Early Childhood Education) diploma with the nearby college. While we were attending the college, there was a mayoral election, and the candidates had a debate in the cafeteria. We decided to join and ask some questions about the municipal childcare closures in our city. We asked what these candidates would do for the children of our city, and all the responses showed a serious problem with the attitude these candidates had toward our younger citizens.
Each candidate only spoke about children as 'future taxpayers' and how they wanted a promising future for these children to grow into, or would speak of children as the offspring of 'taxpayers'. No one really understood that these children were citizens now and had needs that had to be met presently. No one really realized that childcare services weren't just for the benefit of working moms, but for the good of the children as well. It seemed none of them realized they had obligations to all their citizens, and not just present 'taxpayers'. I found this blind spot in their thinking to be somewhat disturbing, but also I thought it was very strange how the use of the word 'taxpayer' rather than citizen was a recurring theme. Since that day, I see the use of the word 'taxpayer' rather than 'citizen' a lot in political rhetoric, and it makes me wonder what the significance of it is.
My speculation is that perhaps politicians use corporate models to understand their role in government. They see taxpayers as investors who need to be placated and that the 'return on investment' is supposed to be an economically healthy community with lots of jobs. While I think economic development is important, I think such an account of government misses out on a lot of important things. For one thing, if we are reducing citizenship to a process of investment and return, how are human citizens, who are merely investors any different from corporate investors? If money is the only 'currency' in this system then what difference does it make where that money comes from? In other words, I think an approach to government that merely look at investors is an approach which is very vulnerable to, or perhaps can't even give an account of, corruption.
Secondly, when we talk about citizens rather than taxpayers, I think we miss out on certain elements that are central to our understanding of citizenship--the idea that we are human beings with human needs who are socially invested in a community. When we see citizens as investors or taxpayers, we reduce them to a numerical or financial account of their role in government, but what government is is more than just an institution that moves money around. A government is supposed to meet social needs, and a government has to be an institution that its citizens can believe in, or else it simply isn't sustainable. Our legitimacy as citizens isn't based on our ability to invest in our government; it's also based on our willingness to be coerced by the state, which is largely based on our beliefs and ideals.
Some things I wonder about are whether this linguistic trend is a cause or symptom of the attitudes I've described above. Is the way we talk about citizenship a product of capitalism? I think a lot of Marxists would say yes. Another question I have is what we should do about it. If the linguistic habit creates these attitudes then merely altering our language would be enough, but I suspect a much deeper and more radical change is required. Either way, the use of the word 'taxpayer' often leaves me suspicious because it suggests the speaker is acting on a model of government that is oversimplified and perhaps even harmful.
Each candidate only spoke about children as 'future taxpayers' and how they wanted a promising future for these children to grow into, or would speak of children as the offspring of 'taxpayers'. No one really understood that these children were citizens now and had needs that had to be met presently. No one really realized that childcare services weren't just for the benefit of working moms, but for the good of the children as well. It seemed none of them realized they had obligations to all their citizens, and not just present 'taxpayers'. I found this blind spot in their thinking to be somewhat disturbing, but also I thought it was very strange how the use of the word 'taxpayer' rather than citizen was a recurring theme. Since that day, I see the use of the word 'taxpayer' rather than 'citizen' a lot in political rhetoric, and it makes me wonder what the significance of it is.
My speculation is that perhaps politicians use corporate models to understand their role in government. They see taxpayers as investors who need to be placated and that the 'return on investment' is supposed to be an economically healthy community with lots of jobs. While I think economic development is important, I think such an account of government misses out on a lot of important things. For one thing, if we are reducing citizenship to a process of investment and return, how are human citizens, who are merely investors any different from corporate investors? If money is the only 'currency' in this system then what difference does it make where that money comes from? In other words, I think an approach to government that merely look at investors is an approach which is very vulnerable to, or perhaps can't even give an account of, corruption.
Secondly, when we talk about citizens rather than taxpayers, I think we miss out on certain elements that are central to our understanding of citizenship--the idea that we are human beings with human needs who are socially invested in a community. When we see citizens as investors or taxpayers, we reduce them to a numerical or financial account of their role in government, but what government is is more than just an institution that moves money around. A government is supposed to meet social needs, and a government has to be an institution that its citizens can believe in, or else it simply isn't sustainable. Our legitimacy as citizens isn't based on our ability to invest in our government; it's also based on our willingness to be coerced by the state, which is largely based on our beliefs and ideals.
Some things I wonder about are whether this linguistic trend is a cause or symptom of the attitudes I've described above. Is the way we talk about citizenship a product of capitalism? I think a lot of Marxists would say yes. Another question I have is what we should do about it. If the linguistic habit creates these attitudes then merely altering our language would be enough, but I suspect a much deeper and more radical change is required. Either way, the use of the word 'taxpayer' often leaves me suspicious because it suggests the speaker is acting on a model of government that is oversimplified and perhaps even harmful.
Tuesday, 29 October 2013
"Make Believe" and the Philosophical Process
If I had the opportunity to submit to a conference where I could connect my experience with Early Childhood Education and Philosophy, I think I would talk about pretend play and critical thought.
In ECE we set up an inviting environment with tools and materials that evoke concepts, and allow children to 'learn through play'. If you look at what adults who have internalized (or more accurately never lost) a love of lifelong learning, this is exactly the kind of behaviour they engage in when learning. Most independent learning is interest driven and involves research and experimentation with resources they find. It isn't only through books and articles, but also through talking with others and acting their ideas out in the real world.
In the ECE classroom there are certain materials that are considered highly important and ought to be included in every learning environment, such as blocks, text and writing materials, space for gross motor activity and pretend play materials. The last one can consist of a mock kitchen, costumes, or puppets, but this centre is considered highly important for early childhood development. having pretend play allows children to place themselves in a role and test their hypotheses about the functions and behaviours of that role. For example, a child who is playing a baby will demonstrate what they know about babies by pretending to cry. A child who is playing a mother might demonstrate that mothers are the ones who punish bad behaviour.
Philosophers often think of themselves as being quite different from preschoolers in an ECE environment, but when you look at what happens in philosophy i think a great deal of it involves a kind of pretend play. We find ourselves constantly asking "How would my opponent respond to this argument? Would an uninitiated reader need clarification of these concepts?" In fact, whole branches of philosophy have been based on the idea of taking the perspective of some unexplored other--be it the worker, women, animals, children, et cetera. Even though we might be looking at more complex phenomena, I still believe the virtues of the child who learns through play are virtues we should try to emulate as learners today.
In ECE we set up an inviting environment with tools and materials that evoke concepts, and allow children to 'learn through play'. If you look at what adults who have internalized (or more accurately never lost) a love of lifelong learning, this is exactly the kind of behaviour they engage in when learning. Most independent learning is interest driven and involves research and experimentation with resources they find. It isn't only through books and articles, but also through talking with others and acting their ideas out in the real world.
In the ECE classroom there are certain materials that are considered highly important and ought to be included in every learning environment, such as blocks, text and writing materials, space for gross motor activity and pretend play materials. The last one can consist of a mock kitchen, costumes, or puppets, but this centre is considered highly important for early childhood development. having pretend play allows children to place themselves in a role and test their hypotheses about the functions and behaviours of that role. For example, a child who is playing a baby will demonstrate what they know about babies by pretending to cry. A child who is playing a mother might demonstrate that mothers are the ones who punish bad behaviour.
Philosophers often think of themselves as being quite different from preschoolers in an ECE environment, but when you look at what happens in philosophy i think a great deal of it involves a kind of pretend play. We find ourselves constantly asking "How would my opponent respond to this argument? Would an uninitiated reader need clarification of these concepts?" In fact, whole branches of philosophy have been based on the idea of taking the perspective of some unexplored other--be it the worker, women, animals, children, et cetera. Even though we might be looking at more complex phenomena, I still believe the virtues of the child who learns through play are virtues we should try to emulate as learners today.
Thursday, 19 September 2013
A Very Impressive Little Comic
Today I found a very interesting webcomic on questions thanks to a friend. I think you will really enjoy it. http://comicsthatsaysomething.quora.com/A-Day-at-the-Park?ref=fb
Monday, 9 September 2013
Technology, Ethics, and Clumsy Gods
I had a professor who loved to recite the phrase 'ought implies can' in our ethics class. I've been reading The Troubled Dream of Life: Living with Mortality by Daniel Callahan and it's got me thinking about the other side of that phrase--what happens when 'can' influences 'ought'? What I mean by that is, 'how does technology change our moral responsibilities?'
Callahan explains that before the development of effective medicine death was seen as an inescapable evil, but not the kind of evil humans are responsible for, more like a natural and unpreventable evil like a hurricane. as technology improved, however, and various causes of death could be eliminated, it became a moral imperative for doctors to eliminate the causes of death, because of course if an evil can be prevented it should.
Today, we still understand that death in general must happen, but no one dies of 'death in general'. Everyone dies of something, a specific, often treatable something, and in the first world they often die under the treatment of a medical professional. As a result, even though we know death must come for all of us, medical professionals often end up feeling personally responsible for a failure to treat the patient. So, with the rise of modern medicine also came the moral onus of death, whether justly or not.
This reminded me of a passage I read by Hans Jonas where he explained that the scope of modern technology has changed the way we do ethics forever. not only do our actions effect such a large mass of people that we could never consider all of them as individuals, but also our actions have completely unanticipated effects. furthermore, we now have ethical subjects who are non-human and we have the power to redefine qualities that used to be fundamental to the definition of humanity. What Jonas was trying to say was that we are simply no longer equipped to deal with the kind o ethical problem that arise from our incredible technological power.
What I find interesting about all this, I suppose, is that there is a kind of paradox taking place. As we become more capable through technology, our power also reminds us of how limited we are in terms of being able to live up to our ethical expectations. It's as if technology has made us see ourselves clumsy, incompetent Gods. Perhaps if there really were a superhero with superpowers, he or she would feel immense guilt for all the evil that actually took place in the world, that they were in theory capable of preventing and yet couldn't for one reason or another. To have that kind of power would mean taking on the whole of human suffering as a burden. We are capable of wreaking incredible destruction on each other and the planet, but doing the right thing is still incredibly difficult with so much power. We think that gaining more power, improving technology, will somehow make us more capable of acting, and then we open up an entire new realm of ethical problems. Maybe we are like some Greek tragedy or a heroin addict. Maybe our fixation will lead us into a black hole from which we cannot return.
Callahan explains that before the development of effective medicine death was seen as an inescapable evil, but not the kind of evil humans are responsible for, more like a natural and unpreventable evil like a hurricane. as technology improved, however, and various causes of death could be eliminated, it became a moral imperative for doctors to eliminate the causes of death, because of course if an evil can be prevented it should.
Today, we still understand that death in general must happen, but no one dies of 'death in general'. Everyone dies of something, a specific, often treatable something, and in the first world they often die under the treatment of a medical professional. As a result, even though we know death must come for all of us, medical professionals often end up feeling personally responsible for a failure to treat the patient. So, with the rise of modern medicine also came the moral onus of death, whether justly or not.
This reminded me of a passage I read by Hans Jonas where he explained that the scope of modern technology has changed the way we do ethics forever. not only do our actions effect such a large mass of people that we could never consider all of them as individuals, but also our actions have completely unanticipated effects. furthermore, we now have ethical subjects who are non-human and we have the power to redefine qualities that used to be fundamental to the definition of humanity. What Jonas was trying to say was that we are simply no longer equipped to deal with the kind o ethical problem that arise from our incredible technological power.
What I find interesting about all this, I suppose, is that there is a kind of paradox taking place. As we become more capable through technology, our power also reminds us of how limited we are in terms of being able to live up to our ethical expectations. It's as if technology has made us see ourselves clumsy, incompetent Gods. Perhaps if there really were a superhero with superpowers, he or she would feel immense guilt for all the evil that actually took place in the world, that they were in theory capable of preventing and yet couldn't for one reason or another. To have that kind of power would mean taking on the whole of human suffering as a burden. We are capable of wreaking incredible destruction on each other and the planet, but doing the right thing is still incredibly difficult with so much power. We think that gaining more power, improving technology, will somehow make us more capable of acting, and then we open up an entire new realm of ethical problems. Maybe we are like some Greek tragedy or a heroin addict. Maybe our fixation will lead us into a black hole from which we cannot return.
Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Multimedia and the Philosophy Makeover
It was thanks to my friend Grant, who does a great deal of work in public Philosophy, that I was introduced to the problem of how to make philosophy accessible to the public. After all, I feel philosophy has greatly enriched my life, and I want to share that enrichment with as many people as I can. My discussions with Grant have lead me to the conclusion the philosophy as it is done today needs a makeover. (How I wish I had a GIF of Rene Descartes in What not to Wear that I could insert here)
At the beginning of our lectures on Sartre's Existentialism is a humanism, our professor told us about how Sartre had spontaneously delivered this entire piece to a room, packed elbow to elbow with people from all kinds of different backgrounds- Catholics, Communists, Philosophers and the common person. the room had been so packed that several people had to be taken to the hospital for fainting from the heat, and Sartre had sent them into a hushed silence the moment he spoke. Sartre was a rock star, and philosophy was on top of it's game in that time- everyone wanted to know what he had to say, which was great, because he had an important message. Today, I am lucky if prospective undergrads even know what the word philosophy means. What has changed and what can we do about it?
In my undergraduate honors seminar, which focused on identity, the students were expected to lead the discussion instead of the professor. We had a lot of fun and it was more relaxed while still being intellectually engaging, but one thing that quickly came to the fore when student led the discussion was that our early philosophical texts- the ones from which we drew our illustrations and thought experiments- were anything but texts. Most of the time we used films like the Matrix, Blade Runner and Dark City (a personal favourite of mine) as the currency of concepts. This was a great annoyance to our professor, who, likely being on the brink of retirement, had grown up and learned about philosophy in a completely different media landscape.
Today, media has changed even more form the days when people mostly read books for entertainment, and philosophers, as a result, are beginning to look at argumentation differently. Leo Groake for example, has been talking about visual argumentation. What this makes me wonder however, is why academic philosophy has not taken advantage of the diverse media landscape. In his day, Sartre wrote tons of entertaining fiction and some marvelous plays that no doubt led the average French citizen to wonder what philosophy was all about, and today with web 2.0 we have even less of an excuse to abstain. Philosophers have experts on hand to help them navigate the world of text publishing, so why do we not have access to experts in art, film, game development, or theatre?
No doubt this is partly because of tradition and partly because of expenses, but I think one very legitimate reason philosophers work mainly in text is because this makes clear communication (and therefore clear response) easier. Still I wonder if there is a way we could both communicate in a way that is clear and easily addressable and still accessible and engaging to the public. One other concern that I imagine I would hear from theorists like Neil Postman (I love his Teaching as a Subversive Activity) is that as philosophical works become more entertaining students are more likely to sit back passively and expect to be entertained (which is interesting because I find him to be a very entertaining writer). That may (or may not) have held true in an age where such entertaining education came in passive forms such as television or film, but I think in the age of web 2.0 we see a very active response to new information. On the internet, people can't resist the temptation to leave a comment (though such comments are not always well thought-out or rigorous), but we also see people responding to media by creating their own videos, writing blogs, reupholstering furniture, dancing, protesting, or inventing new memes. I think the media climate we have right now is the perfect opportunity to bring philosophy back to the people.
At the beginning of our lectures on Sartre's Existentialism is a humanism, our professor told us about how Sartre had spontaneously delivered this entire piece to a room, packed elbow to elbow with people from all kinds of different backgrounds- Catholics, Communists, Philosophers and the common person. the room had been so packed that several people had to be taken to the hospital for fainting from the heat, and Sartre had sent them into a hushed silence the moment he spoke. Sartre was a rock star, and philosophy was on top of it's game in that time- everyone wanted to know what he had to say, which was great, because he had an important message. Today, I am lucky if prospective undergrads even know what the word philosophy means. What has changed and what can we do about it?
In my undergraduate honors seminar, which focused on identity, the students were expected to lead the discussion instead of the professor. We had a lot of fun and it was more relaxed while still being intellectually engaging, but one thing that quickly came to the fore when student led the discussion was that our early philosophical texts- the ones from which we drew our illustrations and thought experiments- were anything but texts. Most of the time we used films like the Matrix, Blade Runner and Dark City (a personal favourite of mine) as the currency of concepts. This was a great annoyance to our professor, who, likely being on the brink of retirement, had grown up and learned about philosophy in a completely different media landscape.
Today, media has changed even more form the days when people mostly read books for entertainment, and philosophers, as a result, are beginning to look at argumentation differently. Leo Groake for example, has been talking about visual argumentation. What this makes me wonder however, is why academic philosophy has not taken advantage of the diverse media landscape. In his day, Sartre wrote tons of entertaining fiction and some marvelous plays that no doubt led the average French citizen to wonder what philosophy was all about, and today with web 2.0 we have even less of an excuse to abstain. Philosophers have experts on hand to help them navigate the world of text publishing, so why do we not have access to experts in art, film, game development, or theatre?
No doubt this is partly because of tradition and partly because of expenses, but I think one very legitimate reason philosophers work mainly in text is because this makes clear communication (and therefore clear response) easier. Still I wonder if there is a way we could both communicate in a way that is clear and easily addressable and still accessible and engaging to the public. One other concern that I imagine I would hear from theorists like Neil Postman (I love his Teaching as a Subversive Activity) is that as philosophical works become more entertaining students are more likely to sit back passively and expect to be entertained (which is interesting because I find him to be a very entertaining writer). That may (or may not) have held true in an age where such entertaining education came in passive forms such as television or film, but I think in the age of web 2.0 we see a very active response to new information. On the internet, people can't resist the temptation to leave a comment (though such comments are not always well thought-out or rigorous), but we also see people responding to media by creating their own videos, writing blogs, reupholstering furniture, dancing, protesting, or inventing new memes. I think the media climate we have right now is the perfect opportunity to bring philosophy back to the people.
Thursday, 8 August 2013
Rational Discourse and making the world a better place.
When I was applying to different programs for grad school, one of the topics I wrote on was philosophy of sexuality. I'm especially interested in discrimination against LGBT people, and I love the work of John Corvino. I think it's great how he takes a question that is very relevant to people's everyday lives, and present the philosophical arguments surrounding it in an accessible way (I mean accessible not only int the sense that the arguments are clear and understandable, but also in a convenient cool medium like a short entertaining Youtube clip--I really think this is a great way to get the public to understand what philosophy is about and why it is important, but I'll save that discussion for another day)
So I told one of my professors that I was considering working in this area and he said to me that these sort of arguments shouldn't even be a concern for philosophers because it's obvious that "you shouldn't discriminate against people for stupid reasons" (please note this conversation took place in a very casual context). Even though I think what people like John Corvino are doing is incredibly important philosophy, I sort of agree with my professor.
In fact, it seems like many fields of philosophy are exploring issues that seem obvious from a rational standpoint, and yet many people have failed to catch up on. It seems very confusing that the basics of such topics as sexism or racism (and for me, animal ethics) seem obvious while in the 'real world' there are many people who have yet to accept them. For example, it would be absurd in my mind for a philosopher today to support the position that violence against women is OK, and yet many people must believe that considering the rate of violence against women that happens every day.
So the average person does not stop and think philosophically about their actions before beating their wife or shouting at a woman on the street. How could they? What this leaves me wondering is, does philosophical discourse really make the world a better place? I feel like philosophy has made me a better person, but what if I am the anomaly? I often feel like people around me have come to their beliefs through some other means than rational discourse,such as following tradition, but does this mean they are incapable of changing that? Can philosophy be used as a tool for a better world or is there some other tool that would be better (like brute force, indoctrination, or social pressure?) I also wonder, if philosophy can;t be used to make the world a better place, is it still worth pursuing for it's own sake?
So I told one of my professors that I was considering working in this area and he said to me that these sort of arguments shouldn't even be a concern for philosophers because it's obvious that "you shouldn't discriminate against people for stupid reasons" (please note this conversation took place in a very casual context). Even though I think what people like John Corvino are doing is incredibly important philosophy, I sort of agree with my professor.
In fact, it seems like many fields of philosophy are exploring issues that seem obvious from a rational standpoint, and yet many people have failed to catch up on. It seems very confusing that the basics of such topics as sexism or racism (and for me, animal ethics) seem obvious while in the 'real world' there are many people who have yet to accept them. For example, it would be absurd in my mind for a philosopher today to support the position that violence against women is OK, and yet many people must believe that considering the rate of violence against women that happens every day.
So the average person does not stop and think philosophically about their actions before beating their wife or shouting at a woman on the street. How could they? What this leaves me wondering is, does philosophical discourse really make the world a better place? I feel like philosophy has made me a better person, but what if I am the anomaly? I often feel like people around me have come to their beliefs through some other means than rational discourse,such as following tradition, but does this mean they are incapable of changing that? Can philosophy be used as a tool for a better world or is there some other tool that would be better (like brute force, indoctrination, or social pressure?) I also wonder, if philosophy can;t be used to make the world a better place, is it still worth pursuing for it's own sake?
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