when barry met sally
So Sally Quinn thinks that Barack (Barry, get it?) and Michelle Obama should attend the National Cathedral while they’re in Washington. Why? Because it “transcends politics and even the separation of religions. Though nominally an Episcopal church, it welcomes everyone.” (Indeed, this could be said of most Episcopal churches: they are but nominally episcopalian, and but nominally churches. And another day I might go into Quinn’s claim that the way you “transcend” something is by reducing it to nothingness. But not now. Not now.) If the Obamas attended the Cathedral, says Quinn, “They would be sending a message to the rest of the country, as they did during the inspiring election campaign, that this is a pluralistic nation where everyone is invited.”
This makes perfect sense if you’re Sally Quinn, and cannot imagine that churches — or if it comes that what whole religions — have any purpose other than to support the American civic religion. (Though interestingly, she doesn’t expect the Rev. Jeremiah Wright to do that: he gets an opt-out card.)
Meanwhile, on another planet, Pope Benedict XVI has aroused the consternation of the New York Times by appearing to “cast doubt on the possibility of interfaith dialogue.” The Vatican has been making soothing noises every since, but in fact Benedict was stressing a point that he has been making for a very long time: that the whole ecumenical movement of the twentieth century — which was originally focused on creating better understanding among various Christian groups but later morphed into “interreligious dialogue” — has never made much progress, and has never made much progress because it has assumed that the way you have to talk about people you disagree with is by talking largely, or wholly, about points of agreement. “Can we agree that Jesus is the only Son of God? Ummmm, okay . . . Well, can we agree that Jesus is important? Can we agree that there is a God? Wow . . . um, let’s see: Can we agree to support the U.N. Millennium Development Goals? Moved, seconded, passed!”
Benedict, having watched all this going on for many fruitless decades, wonders if we shouldn’t try holding the stick at the other end: what if we try talking about where we don’t agree, and see where that leads us? This violates every tenet — or perhaps the only tenet — of the ecumenical movement, so it’s not going to gain any traction among the professional ecumenists, but still, it’s an interesting and hopeful gesture.
Of course, Sally Quinn and Pope Benedict have different points of view because they have different concerns: Quinn thinks the most important thing is for us all to get along, and that requires (she believes) papering over every religious difference; whereas Benedict believes that the most important thing is that what we believe about God is true. What would you expect from a journalist and a Pope? Still, the comparison is potentially instructive, and I wonder what the Pope would say in response to Quinn’s notion that religious believers — at least, Presidential ones — have to Keep America First even during the Sunday morning worship hour?
(P.S. Sorry about the headline, I just couldn’t resist.)
Benedict believes that the most important thing is that what we believe about God is true.
Not seeking a fight here, but that’s not the lesson I take from Benedict’s writings, in which the imperative of “truth” is nigh indistinguishable from the duty to to promote and safeguard Catholic doctrine. For instance, the Dominus Iesus — which Ratzinger presided over, approved and undersigned — finds problematic (among other “research” practices):
Not that there’s anything wrong or exceptional about a Pope protecting and extending the Church’s organizational influence, but his, ah, inquisitiveness about the nature of God seems to be a tad pinched.
(I realize all this is woefully tired and unoriginal. My bad.)
— JA · Nov 24, 09:26 PM · #
Correct me if I’m wrong (I’m a sympathetic agnostic, not a religious scholar), but hasn’t there been something of a convergence between various Protestant denominations in recent years? At least in the states, I feel that doctrinal differences have been de-emphasized in favor of pragmatic collaboration. And despite Benedict’s observation, I think this has done a lot to reconstitute a unified sense of Christian identity.
From a religious standpoint, I’m not sure if this is at all desirable, but I don’t get the sense that Americans are very aware of seemingly trivial doctrinal differences. Many Christian denominations feel like relics of half-remembered regional and cultural identities rather than vibrant spiritual communities.
— Will · Nov 24, 09:33 PM · #
Can I just say it’s really funny to see the little television at the start of posts like this one?
Then again, I wonder what would be a better symbol that we could all . . . agree on.
— Noah Millman · Nov 24, 09:58 PM · #
JA: You’re right, and I think your point is also Benedict’s. i.e.: Why should we come to the discussion table pretending that we don’t all think that we know a good deal about who God is and what He or She or It wants from us?
Will: I think you’re right too.
Noah: Maybe we need a “religion” icon — perhaps a stylized representation of an angry God smiting Christopher HItchens?
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 24, 10:29 PM · #
Ah the obligatory shot at Episcopalians. I suppose you have a whole routine about how expensive Starbucks coffee is as well.
— berger · Nov 24, 10:39 PM · #
berger, I’ve paid my dues: I was an Episcopalian for twenty-one years. I plan to be handing out the cheap shots from now to the grave.
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 24, 11:01 PM · #
Alan:
I have mixed feelings. I respect Benedict’s unembarrassed certitude way more than the polite cowardice of Sally Quinn. I just get all itchy when I read Benedict: fundamentally, his is a warning to organized religions; to put aside doctrinal differences; to stand together against the “arrogance” of the positivists’ worldview; to redefine Science until she admits Theology; and, finally, to demand equal epistemic respect to revelatory truth.
For someone who believes with Nietzsche that the most important story of the past two centuries was the victory of the scientific method over science, Benedict is a troubling figure — mostly because he might succeed.
— JA · Nov 24, 11:16 PM · #
That shot wasn’t cheap—it was budget-busting. Let’s see where transcending “politics and even the separation of religions” has gotten it:
National Cathedral Cuts Jobs, Programs
Worsening Financial Picture Forces Action, Officials Say
By Jacqueline L. Salmon
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, November 19, 2008; B01
Washington National Cathedral plans to slash its budget dramatically and lay off 30 percent of its staff to close a widening budget gap, leaders said yesterday.
Just six months after its last round of cuts, the century-old institution plans to shut down a historic building on its grounds, cut back on choir performances, shrink its lecture and class schedule, outsource its retail operation and rely on volunteers to take over other functions, the Rev. Samuel Lloyd III, dean of the Episcopal cathedral, said in an interview yesterday.
“This is a very difficult time and it breaks my heart what we’re doing with our staff,” Lloyd said…
— J. G. Pair · Nov 25, 12:28 AM · #
Yes, You Can Resist.
— Adam Greenwood · Nov 25, 12:43 AM · #
I suppose I’d be quite interested to see what a non-cheap shot at the Episcopalians would be…
— Ethan C. · Nov 25, 12:45 AM · #
Mr. Pair, as always, my gratitude.
JA, I don’t think you’re reading Benedict rightly: he is not asking the other organized religions to put aside their differences, he is asking them to acknowledge and discuss their differences. He does not want Europe to be generically religious, he wants it to accept and draw upon its specifically Christian heritage. (See Spengler on this.)
More encouraging from your point of view, the Catholic church is far more sympathetic to science than than conservative Protestant denominations, so there’s that.
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 25, 12:50 AM · #
Alan: Catholic church is far more sympathetic to science than than conservative Protestant denominations, so there’s that.
Don’t I know it (I grew up Southern Baptist in Nashville, live now in Chattanooga, dad’s a gospel music singer).
As to your primary point about Benedict, that he wants to confront theological differences rather than retreat from them, you’re right. The Pope is not nervous about putting Christian theology to the test, and not shy about inviting others to do the same with their faiths.
However, open debate is not his only agenda. He’s also seeking a kind of solidarity of the believers, against the modern scientific worldview, against “the ideology of progress” and the “kingdom of reason.” For instance:
This ethical critique of modernity is the common ground Benedict wants to establish with his competitors among the major religions. As things go, it’s not especially pernicious: it’s just worth noting, like a far distant rumble of thunder.
— JA · Nov 25, 02:15 AM · #
Alan, I thought you were still Episcopalian. Or are you a member of an Anglican church not affiliated with the Episcopal church?
Also, I would not take Spengler for the authority on the views of Benedict; the former tries to recruit the latter into his neo-Christendom and clash of civilization ideas through a selective reading of Benedict’s far deeper writings. Benedict’s game isn’t geopolitics. That doesn’t negate the specific point you’re making, of course, which I would describe as accurate, although the Pope has said that shared values with different religious cultures present an opportunity for cooperation (in defense of the family, for example).
JA, I think you have of Benedict’s project slightly wrong (or see it as more nefarious than I do). He doesn’t want redefine science or make it admit to admit to Christianity. He wants science to admit to not being the sole example of reason. He does think positivism in arrogant in rejecting anything not empirically demonstrable. And he thinks a social order based upon the Enlightenment understanding of reason is bound to reject, in some form or another, the central principle of Christian thought – that all human beings, being created in the likeness of God, have an inherent dignity that isn’t dependent upon personal attributes or gifted by the state. And as for the teaching of Dominus Iesus that you cite, all it does is reaffirm Catholic teaching that in seeking to know/understand God, you start with what he revealed, through both Scripture and the Tradition. Such a teaching didn’t crimp the style of Augustine, Pseudo-Dionysius, or Aquinas, so maybe it’s not entirely accurate to describe the Pope as lacking inquisitiveness about God. To do so demonstrates a rejection of the acceptability of Catholic thought.
— Zak · Nov 25, 02:22 AM · #
I see JA points out a passage illustrating what I was trying to say about the Pope’s thoughts about common ground. And it’s clearer by what you mean by science. But why, JA, do you view this challenge to scientific hegemony as so troubling?
— Zak · Nov 25, 02:31 AM · #
Zak: But why, JA, do you view this challenge to scientific hegemony as so troubling?
I don’t mind the challenge per se; it’s just the wrong challenge, arising out of (an admittedly widespread) confusion about what science can properly claim.
The truth is, there’s plenty of “insoluble mystery” at the top and bottom of existence, mystery that we’ll never expose, let alone understand (this is a human and logical necessity).
The way to look at is this (I borrow from Quine): our knowledge of the world and our place in it is a circumscribed field of interrelated concepts; any attempt to cross the gaping abyss, to cross the perimeter which separates “truth” from “Truth,” requires a leap of faith.
While this is unavoidable (and disturbing when faced with the prospect of annihilation), there is something we can do: we can use science to probe the perimeter, and use reason to narrow the gap, so the leap, when it comes, is not so outrageously demanding. To do this while remaining internally consistent, we must start with the simple idea (Rosenzweig’s) that beyond the gap we know nothing.
Of course, Benedict wants us to do the exact opposite. He teaches that what’s beyond the gap is the only thing we know for certain.
The errors which attach to this position are as unhelpful as they are avoidable. Thus, my problem with it.
— JA · Nov 25, 03:32 AM · #
The first three Sundays after the election, Obama has gone to the gym rather than to church.
— Steve Sailer · Nov 25, 03:45 AM · #
Excellent post as always. I’m always stymied by how excrutiatingly bad the Catholic Church’s PR is. Each time the Pope bats an eyelashes, there is a swirl of panic by everyone in the Church to explain, no, wait, what he really meant is… Granted the press has an anti-religious and anti-Catholic bias but still, the Church itself does everything it possibly can to shoot itself in the foot.
You’re right about secular US journalists, you’re right about interreligious dialogue. In my view, interreligious dialogue is one of the most important issues of the next century, and millenium. The disunity of the Church is one of the most shameful sins out there, and we all bear some responsibility, and it is our duty to mend it back together in any way we can. Obviously the differences are too great for us to become one united Church within anybody’s lifetimes, but maybe there can be a loose Christian confederacy one day, a common set of guiding principles and institutions… (And one that doesn’t lose itself in too much piffle, because if it’s just to create a Christian version of the UN there’s no point.)
But anyway, this is extremely important to me, and it’s also very important not to fall in the pitfall of relativism. Ecumenism doesn’t mean forgetting differences or saying everyone believes in everything, or that what you believe is equally true as what I believe. Once we avoid that pitfall we can move forward. And that’s what Benedict means, I think. And he’s right. He’s probably the smartest, most thoughtful world leader on the stage today. Too bad he’s so bad at spin.
— PEG · Nov 25, 09:30 AM · #
Also, to wade in the debate in the comments:
JA, I think you misunderstand Benedict, and Catholic doctrine more generally. Catholics aren’t hostile to science, or the scientific method. Catholics have made wonderful contributions to science, and the Catholic Church has acknowledged them and praised them at their true value.
What Catholic doctrine does say, and what, in my view, reasonable persons of all beliefs should be able to agree on, is that science alone cannot be a moral guide. The Church doesn’t say that science is somehow immoral, but it does point out (again, something commonsensical that you don’t need to be a Christian to agree with) that science is _a_moral.
The fact that scientists can split the atom doesn’t tell you what the moral status, and the moral and immoral uses of nuclear energy are. The fact that scientists can (or rather, might some day be able to) use embryonic stem cells to replicate human tissue, does not necessarily mean that it is moral (or immoral) to do so. These are extremely complex issues and it seems to me to be self-evident that scientific discovery alone does not tell us much about what is moral and immoral, not about science or scientific discovery itself, but about the potential uses of those discoveries.
If there is one lesson to be drawn from the 20th century, it is that science and technology alone are not guarantors of moral virtue. The Enlightenment philosophers of the 18th century really believed that scientific progress would automagically entail moral progress, and that the more technologically advanced a society was, the more morally pure it would be. Of course, this is the mentality that gave us social darwinism, eugenics, ethnocentrism and a bunch of other very “scientific” doctrines… (I’m not saying they were scientific, they were junk science, but they advanced under the cloak of reason)
Again, to say this, as Benedict, and John Paul II before him, and the Vatican II Council before them, do, does not mean to say that we should somehow “replace” reason with faith (even if it were possible), or that we should reject the scientific method in favor of “faith-based” alternatives. The Catholic Church agrees that intelligent design is piffle and says so. It simply points out that science in and of itself is not a good moral guide. And this seems to me to be a pretty obvious, noncontroversial opinion to reach, even if you’re not religious.
Where Catholics and other people of good will will disagree on, obviously, is what (or rather, Who) that moral guide should be, and that’s a whole nother ball game. But to draw from Benedict’s and the Church’s statements that they are somehow questioning or delegitimizing the scientific method is to make a pretty bad misunderstanding, in my view.
— PEG · Nov 25, 10:23 AM · #
I’m guessing, I said guessing, that 90% of human advancements have been made dispite superstitions/religion. Sally and Benedict are equally ignorant. Alan, I’m sorry about your disabilities.
— Bob · Nov 25, 06:38 PM · #
Whereas most cathedrals are monuments to God, visiting the National Cathedral, I got the impression that it is primarily a monument to itself. The building was full of pictures, exhibits, literature all explaining how beautiful, historic, and important the building itself was.
I also enjoyed kneeling on a prayer cushion that was embroidered (I kid you not) “General William Sherman, Father of Modern Warfare”.
As for Benedict’s proposal, it makes perfect sense to me. Having an honest, civil argument with someone is a much faster and better way to find out where you agree (and where you disagree) than to sit down and say, “Now, what can we all agree on?”
— Michael Straight · Nov 25, 09:26 PM · #
If it’s good enough for this guy …
— Tickletext · Nov 25, 09:47 PM · #
Alan, just curious, have you checked out many of the writers associated with the Emerging church movement? Phyllis Tickle, Don Miller, Brian McLaren, Becky Garrison, Shane Claiborne, Peter Rollins etc.
The one thing they all share in common is the attempt to forge a Christianity beyond the evangelical/mainline divide.
— Bert · Nov 25, 10:48 PM · #
Steve Sailer everyone! Steve Sailer! Don’t ignore him! Say, have you ever read the bell curve…
— Ha! · Nov 26, 01:41 AM · #
For what it’s worth, I went to Mass at the Nat’l Cathedral a few weeks ago, and it was plenty Christian. Straight out of the BCP; no funny business. And preceded by a talk by theologian Keith Ward defending Christianity from its “new atheist” detractors. Just sayin’.
— Lee · Nov 26, 03:17 AM · #
I would take the opposite of Bob’s guess, and say at least 90% of all human advancement (whatever that is) had some traceable involvement by religion or “superstition”, although it is nearly impossible to quantify such a thing.
When you add up Jesuit schools, the immense role monasteries have played in education and knowledge, Christian-lead Universities (like Oxford, motto: The Lord is my Light). Goodness, even my very secular University had the quote from the Northwest Ordinance on the front gate (“Religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.”)
This is just the Christian influences on human advancement I can name off the top of my head. I am certain there a ton of other examples of “human advancement” stemming from other religious/superstitious traditions such as Islam, Confucianism, or Buddhism. Even the Romans, ancient Greeks and Egyptians seemed to offer a lot of human advancements while being quite religious and “superstitious”. Maybe there were advancements their religion prevented them from advancing, but it is kind of a crazy argument.
— John · Nov 26, 03:36 AM · #
Alan,
I’m thankful you could prove your Christian bona fides by insulting the faith of fellow Christians in “most Episcopal churches.” Let me get this straight—you’re supposed to be taken seriously when you say things like that? You may have “paid your dues” but you’ve just lost this Episcopal Priest as a subscriber to your personal blog as well as the American scene. It may not mean much, but it illustrates the loss of respect I have for you at this moment.
God bless
— Jody+ · Nov 26, 05:17 AM · #
Zak, I am now a non-Episcopalian Anglican.
Bert, I am keeping an eye on the emerging church movement, though at the moment I think it may be several different movements.
Jody, criticizing an institutional church is not equivalent to “insulting the faith” of ordinary parishioners within it. That’s not a difficult distinction to keep in mind, unless you’re eager to take up an offense on behalf of others. There are thousands and thousands of faithful Episcopalians, a good many of them in parish churches that have effectively abandoned Christianity, and most of them in dioceses whose bishops have ceased to be bishops. If you can’t respect anyone who holds that view, so be it.
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 26, 03:16 PM · #
Alan,
It is a false distinction. There are indeed Episcopal Churches where the leadership has departed from the faith—as there are churches of other denominations and no denomination where that has happened as well. I am no fan of our national church leadership or the direction of many within TEC, but to say that “most Episcopal Churches” are but nominally Churches is, it seems, to question the presence of Christ in their worship, which means you’re calling into question the faith of those present and are thereby taking up an authority that none of us has (James 4:11-4:12). In your original post you spoke of most Episcopal Churches, as in most local congregations. That is different from criticizing the institutional structures of 815 or the decisions of particular Bishops or even what goes on at the National Cathedral (I’m no fan of the Hindu or Buddhist necklaces I saw for sale in the gift shop the last time I was there, for instance); had you done so, I would not have taken offense. Instead, what you wrote was such a blanket statement that it implicated the congregation which I serve—and even if not, saying “most” must implicate several of the 50 other congregations in my diocese whom I know to be faithful Christians. Could you pick the faithful congregations from the unfaithful when presented with a list? Perhaps your bitterness is to be expected, and maybe you had horrible experiences in the Diocese of Chicago, but you shouldn’t universalize your experience and presume to know the faithfulness or unfaithfulness of “most Episcopal Churches” across the country. That takes a high degree of hubris and bitterness.
— Jody+ · Nov 26, 05:37 PM · #
The first line above should read “it is a false distinction in regard to your comments.”
— Jody+ · Nov 26, 05:47 PM · #
Jody, you could have asked me what I mean when I speak of churches being but nominally churches. Instead, you announce what I mean, and also tell me what I imply, and then you go on to diagnose the moral and spiritual failings that led me to say such things. Can you imagine why I don’t see this as a fruitful conversation?
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 26, 06:22 PM · #
PEG, I’m happy to concede the Magisterium’s friendliness toward “science.” Again, I grew up in the American South, amidst Southern Baptists, Pentacostals, Adventists and Churches of Christ. Next to these . . .
I’m also no romantic defender of Scientific Truth. Rather, I’m a philosopher of science (by training), and know all the inherent limitations.
You write that “science alone cannot be a moral guide.”
But if we aren’t to be guided by method, what other guides do we have? Three: our moral instincts, cultural norms, and religion — neither of which is method, all of which are suspect.
I’m reminded of MacIntyre’s essay on Epistemological Crises, where he writes:
It’s worth noting that behavioral economics, cognitive science, and moral psychology are making our ‘mental schemata’ visible to us. What’s even more striking than the philosopher’s silence on normative crises is the lack of thought given to the type of epistemological crisis which attends visibility of our cognitive, moral, system-1 heuristics.
I guess what I’m trying to say: of course science cannot be the moral guide; however, given the inadequacies of the alternatives, it would behoove us to make it a guide, if only to keep tabs on the others.
Which leads to my worry with Benedict: he doesn’t believe science should have any role in determining morality; he appeals to believers to demand morality remain the business of God and therefore religion. And all this as we finally illumine what morality really is (i.e., an “irreducibly mental way of grouping mental states and events”).
Benedict wants to inoculate the West from an epistemological crisis. I think we need to let the disease run its course.
— JA · Nov 26, 09:17 PM · #
JA,
“I guess what I’m trying to say: of course science cannot be the moral guide; however, given the inadequacies of the alternatives, it would behoove us to make it a guide, if only to keep tabs on the others.”
That’s something I have little objection to, and I don’t think Benedict would, either.
Science is a wonderful thing, it illuminates a lot of things about nature, and about our nature. And this is a process that the Church embraces, and encourages.
But there is a temptation of a lot of people, precisely because of the many wonders of science, to use it (or rather, a bastardized pseudo-scientific ideology) as the only, or the overarching moral guide. This mentality has in the past led to horribly immoral excesses, and so when that mentality tends to come back, we should be wary. This is all that Benedict is saying, and I really wouldn’t read anything else into it.
Take the stem cell debate. I don’t want to get into the actual debate, it’s not the point, and there are plenty of thoughtful, defensible positions on all sides. But there’s an interesting discrepancy: the actual scientists who work on stem cells are very guarded, both about their therapeutic potential, but also about the ethical implications of experimenting on embryonic stem cells, and are the first ones to call for caution and regulation. The commentators, however, the Christopher Hitchenses, are manichean caricatures, whose arguments basically boil down to “But it is Science! How can you stand in the way of SCIENCE!” And when I hear that kind of thing, I tend to want to run for the hills, because that’s the kind of mentality that brought us some pretty shameful things in the past. In that context, Benedict’s warnings, well understood, are a very useful addition to the debate (and again, I think you can agree with that regardless of your religious views or your views on stem cell research).
Also, an aside, but which might have some explicating value: I also think that Benedict is responding to a generational shift that younger people like myself might not be quite aware of.
Up until a generation ago, it was the Cold War, and all our lives were basically hanging by a thread, waiting for someone to push the button and let the power of the Atom fry us all. We don’t like to think about it that way but really, from the 1950’s to 1989 the entire world population was the subject of a Schrödinger’s Cat experiment. So back then nobody needed to be convinced that scientific discovery is not necessarily an unequivocal good.
But after the Cold War we put these unpleasant thoughts out of our minds. And the pace of technological change that was unleashed after the fall of the Wall, and the technology-powered economic growth that came with it, has changed our perspective incredibly. I can’t, and I think most people are like me, imagine how I used to function without the internet. Heck, I practically can’t remember what it’s like not to have an iPhone. So for an entire generation, technology and science have had overwhelmingly good associations. And by the way, I think this phenomenon is an enormous net positive good.
But it has one drawback, it’s that it desensitizes us to the potential downsides of science unchecked by morals. And I think this is an evolution that someone of Benedict’s generation would be more attuned to and would like to remind us of. And again, I think it’s something worth keeping in mind.
— PEG · Nov 26, 11:15 PM · #
JA, I see how science gives us information which can clarify and improve our moral choices — so those choices are not made in unnecessary ignorance — but how could it be a guide as such? Science, as I understand it, cannot say what’s worth doing, what proper values should be. Could you clarify?
— Alan Jacobs · Nov 26, 11:38 PM · #
This all seems to be the price of our recent years of theological politics. Democracy demands (often) the lowest common denominator. As long as one believes that having a president with diverging theological views picks one’s pocket and breaks one’s leg, this is the result. But for my part, I hope politicians (and POLITICAL commentators) soon learn not to waste my time with their prattlings about the infinite.
— GR · Nov 28, 09:57 PM · #
PEG, I don’t disagree with anything you’ve written. In fact, I think you’re exactly right — particularly about Benedict reminding us of the dark side of scientific worship.
Alan (if you’re still reading):
I might be able to clarify a bit (I’ve been working on this for a long, long time, but still can’t manage to condense it into an intelligible and satisfying single-serving).
As you say, finding values and proper ends is beyond the purview of science. Well not quite. All of that is true unless science is investigating a “functional concept”. A good example comes from MacIntyre’s After Virtue, which shows how the concept “clock” and the concept “good clock” are inseparable. Since “clock” is a functional concept, we can use science to illuminate good from bad, and good from better (we can never conclude best).
This is because a telos is embedded in all functional concepts, by definition. The problem, as you point out, is that outside Aristotelian ethical philosophy and Aristotelian theology (both rejected by modern philosophy) the concept “man” has no inherent function, no embedded telos.
Science tells us — well, strongly suggests — that mankind is undesigned, an evolutionary accident, moving toward no final cause and beholden to no purposive maker (other than the selfish gene). Further, science is forced to admit that, even if man does have a prior telos, the scientific method could never unconceal this fact. (It’s also worth noting that modern philosophy has embraced the self’s innate purposelessness (its cosmological worthlessness) as fact, a move which has caused all kinds of epistemological rifts between secular and religious thinkers).
Worse, there is also an unbridgeable chasm within secular philosophy, between the existential and the ethical (what Rosenzweig called the Lebensanschauung and the Weltanschauung). As Kierkegaard pointed out, there is no compelling reason for a self to choose between a completely self-serving aesthetic life, or an other-serving ethical life — especially not when the self embraces the implications of its undesigned and mortal existence. Without a judge to whom I must answer in the afterlife, and without a discernible purpose which I can glean from “the pages of the universe”, I am radically free to choose either-or, both-and, or none-of-the-above (suicide).
If reason is to be our guide, all of this (and more) must be conceded at the outset. Whether as an individual, or as representative man, I see no purpose on which to hang a scientifically-informed moral schema, and no compelling reason with which to simply elect one.
Which brings us back to where we began: because of the pitfalls listed above, the only way we can use science to discover “ought” is if we somehow define “man” functionally, as a functional concept, and did it in a way that was not arbitrary but rather based in fact.
As it turns out, the solution to all this mess is so simple that at first it can seem quite silly: To define man functionally, all we have to do is choose a perspective from which man is in fact a functional object — i.e., we must seek out and choose a perspective from which man’s real-time activities are topologically significant. That perspective is the superorganism, the living system which emerges out of the interactions of the organism homo sapiens. Furthermore, and happily, our understanding of complex system dynamics, of chaos and phase shifts and feedbacks and self-organized criticality, is already beginning to mature, which means that science will soon be able to define the idea of a good man from the superorganism’s non-arbitrary, fact-based perspective.
The final hurdle is to answer “Why should I be good?” and “What happens when my and the superorganism’s interests collide?” It’s on these last that I’ve spent the better part of my twenties. To answer simply, the solution is the Rawlsian contract, negotiated in an idealized space under reflective equilibrium, between parties of irreducibly distinct interests. One party is the superorganism, the other is “I” — and there are openings for still others. A negotiated settlement, with considerations and obligations flowing to each party, is the only way that works, the only way that can be publicly justified and universally, rationally accepted.
— JA · Dec 1, 07:38 PM · #
Thanks, JA, that makes sense. Of course, I would disagree at about seventeen points. . . .
— Alan Jacobs · Dec 2, 12:15 AM · #