I recently read this piece: "Urban myth at Toowong Cemetery remains a mystery" [1]. The article focuses on local business man, Cameron "Jack" Sim (my opinions of this individual are expressed elsewhere) and Haunts of Brisbane's Liam Baker discussing the story of Toowong Cemetery’s ‘spook hill’. The first issue was that no one provided the details (not even what hill of the Cemetery is reputedly 'spook hill'). I was left wondering if the mystery is indeed a mystery at all. After all, have any of those involved actually tested the claim? Is there a real case that shows ‘spook hill’ to be anything but a story?
By way of disclaimer, this is far from the only 'spook hill' (even in Brisbane) and the tale is a basic format often seen in localised folklore of modern Western societies. The narrative runs as follows: a car is placed in neutral at the bottom or middle of a hill (or sometimes on one side of train tracks) then proceeds to move up (or across) by means unknown, a supernatural story including ghosts is then overlaid to account for the car's movement. Such sites have also been referred to as 'magnetic hills' in efforts to account for the phenomenon in more naturalistic terms. To illustrate the supernatural version, let's look at Baker's quoted account:
"The traditional tale is that the graves of two young sisters killed in a car accident lie at the top of `spook hill' and if you sit in the car and put it into neutral the car will defy gravity and roll forwards up the hill ... Legend has it the spirits of the two girls drag the car up the hill and everyone in the car will meet a grisly end.'' [1]
Although that story is open to the same kinds of factual assessment that Baker uses for his Haunts of Brisbane writing (i.e. are there verified reports of a car accident that killed two young sisters and are said girls buried at the top of 'spook hill'?) I haven't seen a piece from him on that particular story. As such, Baker’s views on ‘spook hill’ are as yet unknown. After this quote the article shifts to Sim's perspective. Without really establishing that there exists a verifiable account of a car moving on 'spook hill', Sim states:
"Over the years people have put forward numerous explanations, some say it's an optical illusion or a magnetic pull but the urban legend is that its super natural force ... I searched all the graves along the edge of the cemetery where spook hill is reported to be and have not found any link to the stories which circulate ... It remains a mystery.''[1]
Thus far there are explanations for a non-existent mystery. A simple explanation is that the model for 'spook hill' was adapted to Toowong Cemetery. Perhaps the originators took that basic phenomenon of the moving car from Mt Cotton's 'spook hill' or an international example. Without even a single case of a car moving uphill (let alone the occupants meeting a "grisly end") all of this could be attributed to the universal propensity to invent stories, especially those that lend themselves to the type of "legend tripping" wherein one ends up in secluded place in the comfort of a car with the right company.
Toowong Cemetery is a big place so where exactly is 'spook hill'? I am aware of the particular location that Sim claims to be the site - at the Richer Street Gate looking towards the shelter on Boundary Street. A cursory viewing of that position brings into doubt the applicability of the word 'hill' given that an incline is barely present. Other accounts, indeed most of the ones I’ve come across, have centred on 12th Avenue (a much larger incline). I don't know whether Baker concurs with Sim's positioning of 'spook hill' or not. One such account is worth quoting (for the purposes of dissecting pseudohistory and folklore):
"Apparently a tombstone near the top of the hill [12th Avenue] marks the grave of a child who died in a car accident. His spirit draws all cars towards it, with such a powerful attraction that it overcomes even gravity. The 'scientific' explanation isn't much better: there's a natural magnetic lodestone at the top of the hill, strong enough to drag even large metal objects (like cars)."[2]
Immediately we see the mix of similarities and divergences that characterise such tales. As in Baker's account, the child killed in a car accident is still present but has changed gender and become one instead of a pair. What this indicates, especially when put alongside the different location to Sim's, is that there's no firm description of 'spook hill'. The significance of that rather rudimentary point is that it serves to further demonstrate that we are not witnessing attempts to explain an actual well documented occurrence. The scientific response to 'spook hill' would involve first verifying the existence of the phenomenon (i.e. testing to see if a car did move as suggested) then proceeding to find an explanation.
I recall Sim's site having been investigated by a local paranormal group with the conclusion that the hill is actually an incline downwards. For those unaware of the geometry of Toowong Cemetery, the whole location is on the side of a hill with various plateaus, valleys and slopes all across it. By this account, Sim's site only seems to be uphill from where one is on the slope itself, but in actual fact one is looking down. We should also recall that the fact that Sim's 'spook hill' is fairly level greatly diminishes the contrast of gradients. 12th Avenue would at least make for an impressive story as that really is a slope uphill.
Given the absence of any first-hand accounts (let alone reliable ones) all we can say is that there are stories about certain locations in the Cemetery that are not dissimilar to other stories about hills where cars move due to the alleged influence of spirits. Simply put, there isn't a mystery until someone documents a car moving unaided (by the usual causes of vehicular movement) on 'spook hill' (either one) towards the direction that is uphill and thus contrary to what one would expect. Until then, there isn't a mystery to be solved, just a story to be enjoyed or dismissed as one pleases.
[1]http://www.couriermail.com.au/questnews/west/urban-myth-at-toowong-cemetery-remains-a-mystery/story-fn8m0u4y-1226636562059
[2] http://www.weekendnotes.com.au/4-spookiest-urban-legends-in-brisbane/
Hellhound's Howl
A blog confronting pseudohistory, pseudoscience, and other questionable pronouncements of fact
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Ignorance of History is Never Acceptable, Part I: Comments on the Fringe of Sanity
I encounter pronouncements made in shameless ignorance of history quite a lot when reading work by or about postmodernists. For the moment I draw your attention to some comments made by a man and his collaborator, both of whom are custodians of some of the most significant cultural properties of the twentieth century. As part of a piece I am writing on the depiction of paranormal investigators in television fiction I had to read a few things on Fringe (2008-2013). These quotes come from an interview of series co-creators JJ Abrams, Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman around the time Fringe first went to air. Here are the offending quotes:
Orci: "Lately you can either have a procedural or you can have something extremely serialized and very culty. ... And to us the idea of seeing if you can do both simultaneously is a new kind of storytelling ... The idea of literally crashing Law & Order with Lost basically is very exciting for us." [1]
Abrams: "Every week there will be a case that will challenge [the team] and put them at risk that they'll have to deal with. In many ways it's a puzzle, and there is a classic cop procedural element to it. On the other hand, what they're dealing with, and who is responsible for what they're dealing with, is connected to a larger story. And when the episodes arise with the larger mythology, you will be brought up to speed if you haven't seen it before." [1]
What is the problem? The problem is that The X-Files (1993-2002) did exactly the things which Orci and Abrams are claiming are original a decade and a half before their show. The X-Files is hardly a manor show and has been noted by significant media scholars to have combined episodic and serial narrative in a way that founded a new model of storytelling. Furthermore, it has been likened to Law & Order in a very similar way for the adoption and alteration of the procedural format which it relied upon. Elsewhere Abrams has mentioned drawing on The X-Files in the conception of Fringe [2]. Did I mention Fringe centres on a branch of the FBI? Admittedly The X-Files drew on earlier works itself but it used these creatively. Fringe is symptomatic of the absence of creativity in the vast bulk of recent television. The quotes above are symptomatic of the treatment of earlier works as non-existent or second to the supposed grandeur of newer material. More on that soon.
[1] http://web.archive.org/web/20090319031033/http://www.scifi.com/sfw/interviews/sfw19440.html
[2] http://www.tvguide.com/News/Fringe-Series-Finale-Oral-History-Abrams-Jackson-Torv-Noble-1059131.aspx
Orci: "Lately you can either have a procedural or you can have something extremely serialized and very culty. ... And to us the idea of seeing if you can do both simultaneously is a new kind of storytelling ... The idea of literally crashing Law & Order with Lost basically is very exciting for us." [1]
Abrams: "Every week there will be a case that will challenge [the team] and put them at risk that they'll have to deal with. In many ways it's a puzzle, and there is a classic cop procedural element to it. On the other hand, what they're dealing with, and who is responsible for what they're dealing with, is connected to a larger story. And when the episodes arise with the larger mythology, you will be brought up to speed if you haven't seen it before." [1]
What is the problem? The problem is that The X-Files (1993-2002) did exactly the things which Orci and Abrams are claiming are original a decade and a half before their show. The X-Files is hardly a manor show and has been noted by significant media scholars to have combined episodic and serial narrative in a way that founded a new model of storytelling. Furthermore, it has been likened to Law & Order in a very similar way for the adoption and alteration of the procedural format which it relied upon. Elsewhere Abrams has mentioned drawing on The X-Files in the conception of Fringe [2]. Did I mention Fringe centres on a branch of the FBI? Admittedly The X-Files drew on earlier works itself but it used these creatively. Fringe is symptomatic of the absence of creativity in the vast bulk of recent television. The quotes above are symptomatic of the treatment of earlier works as non-existent or second to the supposed grandeur of newer material. More on that soon.
[1] http://web.archive.org/web/20090319031033/http://www.scifi.com/sfw/interviews/sfw19440.html
[2] http://www.tvguide.com/News/Fringe-Series-Finale-Oral-History-Abrams-Jackson-Torv-Noble-1059131.aspx
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Anniversaries and Incoherent Narratives
Due to the volume of work that presently requires my attention I have been lax about blogging. Nevertheless, consistent posts will return. Although I want to comment further on the Boggo Road situation, I have chosen a different topic for this first post more closely related to what I have been doing.
No doubt many have come across recent pronouncements of the 50th Anniversary of Doctor Who. Besides that it is also the 50th anniversary of The X-Men. My post concerns only Doctor Who though as The X-Men are not currently the focus of massive academic attention despite their similar vintage celebration.
To a large degree I dislike the anniversary being used as cause to talk about the revised series. If, in 2055, we are still talking about Russell T Davies, David Tennant and company then those can be central aspects of an anniversary celebration. Presently we are seeing the anniversary of the original series. I've often said, "I'm a fan of Doctor Who and that's why I loathe the revised series." Despite the shared title and BBC home, these two ventures are markedly different. Given the substantially altered tone and behaviour of characters (specifically the Doctor) the two series are easily likened to the case of Battlestar Galactica. No one would say there is a credible continuity between the original and the reimagined BSG and likewise it is difficult to say the new Doctor Who is heavily associated with its forebear.
Commenting on Doctor Who leads me to an observation I made while attending a recent conference. Two of the presenters, both with qualifications in English alone, engaged in evaluative discussions of the science presented in film and television narratives. By that I mean they were assessing the validity of scientific statements as made in films against actual scientific knowledge. Such a task is quite fine in principle. However, I was concerned at the potential for error that arises from non-scientists making evaluative assessments without possessing the requisite expertise to do so. It is one thing for Anne Simon, Laurence Krauss, and Michao Kaku (all professional academic scientists) to engage in such evaluation. But how can anyone in the audience be sure that what they are being told is accurate? One speaker provided an opening monologue about only ever being an adequate science student. Then during questions it was also acknowledged that information from the science department had been sought on all matters. That raises the question of why someone with an openly avowed lack of knowledge would undertake work wherein they cannot lay credence to their own claims. One example was a description of the use of worm holes for time travel as "a big if". But could that presenter explain anything about why that is so? No. Because they were simply told it was and accepted it.
It was the second presenter whose talk focused specifically on Doctor Who. By the presenter's explanation the talk was derived from a course headed by self same English academic about 'Science fiction and science fact'. There are ways that a non-scientist could engage with that topic but the presenter was connecting part of a fictional narrative with contemporary science. A direct relation was not present at all (i.e. there was not a mention of quantum physics then a discussion of that field); rather, the presenter had decided to postulate a relationship between a new Doctor Who quote about time being "a big ball of timey-whimey wibbly-wobbly...stuff" with M theory (an extension of string theory). The presenter was never explicit on just how the two were connected, likely because of a lack of actual knowledge concerning M theory itself. What was basically provided was a second-hand talk on M theory via verbatim Brian Greene quotes (from an interview) and a direction to read his Elegant Universe. Relying on the statements of others in such a manner is problematic because it clearly displays a lack of awareness with the broader literature. A single source does not an academic assessment make.
After having to type out that loathsome quote I will at least note that it was one of my favourite examples of what happens when the science of science fiction is totally forsaken. I am not arguing that science fiction needs to keep to actual science. What I mean to convey is that when even the illusion of scientific law and character are lost what one gets is a fundamentally incoherent narrative. Events simply happen and cannot be easily questioned because there is no internal logic at work. I challenge any and all who wish to defend the new Doctor Who to provide rational explanation for the events of the episode in which that quote appeared ("Blink") without recourse to some similarly vague and meaningless treacle of childish verbiage. For a further example of the incoherence that results from ignoring any sense of logical structuring see Looper (2012). In the scene where the usual (pseudo)scientific explanation would be given it is simply eschewed leading to a conclusion that makes no sense besides to say that the writer wanted that ending and didn't see fit to actually make it plausible even within the confines of a fictional reality.
No doubt many have come across recent pronouncements of the 50th Anniversary of Doctor Who. Besides that it is also the 50th anniversary of The X-Men. My post concerns only Doctor Who though as The X-Men are not currently the focus of massive academic attention despite their similar vintage celebration.
To a large degree I dislike the anniversary being used as cause to talk about the revised series. If, in 2055, we are still talking about Russell T Davies, David Tennant and company then those can be central aspects of an anniversary celebration. Presently we are seeing the anniversary of the original series. I've often said, "I'm a fan of Doctor Who and that's why I loathe the revised series." Despite the shared title and BBC home, these two ventures are markedly different. Given the substantially altered tone and behaviour of characters (specifically the Doctor) the two series are easily likened to the case of Battlestar Galactica. No one would say there is a credible continuity between the original and the reimagined BSG and likewise it is difficult to say the new Doctor Who is heavily associated with its forebear.
Commenting on Doctor Who leads me to an observation I made while attending a recent conference. Two of the presenters, both with qualifications in English alone, engaged in evaluative discussions of the science presented in film and television narratives. By that I mean they were assessing the validity of scientific statements as made in films against actual scientific knowledge. Such a task is quite fine in principle. However, I was concerned at the potential for error that arises from non-scientists making evaluative assessments without possessing the requisite expertise to do so. It is one thing for Anne Simon, Laurence Krauss, and Michao Kaku (all professional academic scientists) to engage in such evaluation. But how can anyone in the audience be sure that what they are being told is accurate? One speaker provided an opening monologue about only ever being an adequate science student. Then during questions it was also acknowledged that information from the science department had been sought on all matters. That raises the question of why someone with an openly avowed lack of knowledge would undertake work wherein they cannot lay credence to their own claims. One example was a description of the use of worm holes for time travel as "a big if". But could that presenter explain anything about why that is so? No. Because they were simply told it was and accepted it.
It was the second presenter whose talk focused specifically on Doctor Who. By the presenter's explanation the talk was derived from a course headed by self same English academic about 'Science fiction and science fact'. There are ways that a non-scientist could engage with that topic but the presenter was connecting part of a fictional narrative with contemporary science. A direct relation was not present at all (i.e. there was not a mention of quantum physics then a discussion of that field); rather, the presenter had decided to postulate a relationship between a new Doctor Who quote about time being "a big ball of timey-whimey wibbly-wobbly...stuff" with M theory (an extension of string theory). The presenter was never explicit on just how the two were connected, likely because of a lack of actual knowledge concerning M theory itself. What was basically provided was a second-hand talk on M theory via verbatim Brian Greene quotes (from an interview) and a direction to read his Elegant Universe. Relying on the statements of others in such a manner is problematic because it clearly displays a lack of awareness with the broader literature. A single source does not an academic assessment make.
After having to type out that loathsome quote I will at least note that it was one of my favourite examples of what happens when the science of science fiction is totally forsaken. I am not arguing that science fiction needs to keep to actual science. What I mean to convey is that when even the illusion of scientific law and character are lost what one gets is a fundamentally incoherent narrative. Events simply happen and cannot be easily questioned because there is no internal logic at work. I challenge any and all who wish to defend the new Doctor Who to provide rational explanation for the events of the episode in which that quote appeared ("Blink") without recourse to some similarly vague and meaningless treacle of childish verbiage. For a further example of the incoherence that results from ignoring any sense of logical structuring see Looper (2012). In the scene where the usual (pseudo)scientific explanation would be given it is simply eschewed leading to a conclusion that makes no sense besides to say that the writer wanted that ending and didn't see fit to actually make it plausible even within the confines of a fictional reality.
Labels:
conference,
Doctor Who,
Science-fiction
Monday, January 21, 2013
The Moral Landscape: An Ugly Marriage of Confidence and Ignorance
In a brief moment of clarity, Harris observes, “the less competent a person is in a given domain, the more he will tend to overestimate his abilities” before noting, “This often produces an ugly marriage of confidence and ignorance” (ML, p.161). When I first reached this line my initial impression was that herein lay a prescient description of The Moral Landscape and perhaps Sam Harris as well. Despite being a relative newcomer to science (only starting his neuroscience PhD. in his late thirties after no prior experience, it seems, in any field of science), and showing more than a small degree of disdain for philosophy given he has a BA in that discipline (which would only engender a very general level of knowledge as previously indicated), Harris believes that he has overcome Hume’s famous dictum that one cannot get an ought from an is, and shown professional scientists who thought they had nothing to say about morality that they are wrong. Why then, am I not lauding him as a brilliant mind who has revolutionised studies of morality? Irrespective of what he believes to be the case, Harris never does either of these things in Moral Landscape.
I had intended to include aspects of the reviews I read and also go into full detail. The demands of brevity again exert themselves and I must restrict myself in the scope of this analysis. For that reason I will focus on two major issues, both of which are fairly objective and avoid the recurrent issue of Harris’ elusive contentions. The first will be his definition of ‘science’, the second his use of ‘well-being’ as the central aspect of his system of morality.
What I quoted above is far from the only instance where Harris provides a comment which duly describes his own work. At one point Harris notes that anyone is “free to define ‘science’ any way they want” (ML, p.61). Surely though this is an outright falsehood. While Harris claims there are right and wrong answers to moral questions, there certainly are right and wrong definitions. An essential preface to talking about Moral Landscape or Harris’ assertions that ‘science can tell us about morality’ in general is that, in a strict sense, when he says science he doesn’t mean science. Or more specifically, he means a lot more than the hard sciences (physics, biology, chemistry) that are usually indicated or alluded to when ‘science’ is deployed. Harris is open about this (in his notes but not the main text). Therein he writes:
“For the purposes of this discussion, I do not intend to make a hard distinction between ‘science’ and other intellectual contexts in which we discuss ‘facts’ – e.g. history ... I think ‘science’ therefore, should be considered a specialized branch of a larger effort to form true beliefs about events in the world.” (ML, p.249)
Notably, half of the declaration advocates ‘science’ being read broadly yet the final sentence returns to a point of distinction. This is likely so that Harris can achieve his ends (which require the expansive view) and deflect claims he fails to provide science with sufficient identity. Taken in connection to this definition one can read Harris’ efforts as being about factual discourse and morality, not science and morality. Regarding the potential challenge to his assertion about science determining morality posed by restrictive definitions, Harris writes:
“Some people maintain this view [there are no right/wrong answers about morality] by defining ‘science’ in exceedingly narrow terms, as though it were synonymous with mathematical modelling or immediate access to experimental data. However, this is to mistake science for a few of its tools. Science simply represents our best effort to understand what is going on in the universe, and the boundary between it and rest of rational thought cannot always be drawn.” (ML, p.45)
Yes, science does represent our best effort to understand the world (and beyond that, the universe). But it is the best because of the tools which it uses. For Harris then, anything that is the ‘best effort’ is ‘science’. Speaking with greater specificity and accuracy, one might say that while science is quite distinct, scientific approaches do appear in other fields. For example, methodological naturalism is central to hard sciences such as physics and also history in that no one factors supernatural causes into their explanation of events. Likewise, evidence is the ultimate arbiter of one’s conclusions in such fields which is why these may be considered, alongside the traditional sciences, as parts of factual discourse.
What is ultimately wrong with Harris’ inclusivity? Basically this ignores the past two centuries and takes the meaning of ‘science’ back to Coleridge’s day when it referred to any systematic knowledge. Science is no longer just science but a collection of any discipline which aims to produce factual knowledge. These may be called scientific but to label them science is either misrepresentative or in need of further qualification. Most importantly, it diminishes the force of his statement. In an exchange with Peter Singer [1], Harris also accepted the inclusion of philosophy into the list of what could, by his intentions, be called science. Once that concession is made, saying ‘science can tell us about morality’ becomes interchangeable with saying, ‘philosophy can tell us about morality’. What has philosophy been doing since the time of the Ancient Greeks? Among other things it has been trying to tell us about morality, the good life, right and wrong, etc. Instantaneously Harris’ novelty dissipates.
Having dealt with the problem of Harris’ definition of science I will now look at a term Harris fails to define: well-being. Harris claims that ‘well-being’ is the measure of what is good and to what degree it is good. Problematically, he has no clear definition:
“Many readers might wonder how can we base our values on something as difficult to define as ‘well-being’? It seems to me, that the concept of well-being is like the concept of physical health: it resists precise definition, and yet it is indispensible.” (ML, p.24)
Actually the concept is only indispensible in the event that one claims well-being should be the measure of what is good. A major issue arises if one considers that there is no way to scientifically quantify such an amorphous entity. He has been called out on this point before. On the topic of well-being Harris criticizes Sean Carroll’s argument against him in typically assertive yet digressionary style:
“The physicist Sean Carroll has written a fair amount against me on this point (again, without having read my book), and he is in the habit of saying things like, “I don’t know what a unit of well-being is,” as though he were regretfully delivering the killing blow to my thesis. I would venture that Carroll doesn’t know what a unit of depression is either—and units of joy, disgust, boredom, irony, envy, or any other mental state worth studying won’t be forthcoming.” [2]
The difference is that Carroll has not written a book wherein the concept depression etc. is central to his case. In other words, what Harris says does not relieve the burden upon his shoulders to actually define well-being. When Harris lists three “distinct challenges” all of them relate to well-being [2], showing how truly central it is to his case. We will focus here on the last one:
“Even if we did agree to grant “well-being” primacy in any discussion of morality, it is difficult or impossible to define it with rigor. It is, therefore, impossible to measure well-being scientifically. Thus, there can be no science of morality. (The Measurement Problem)” [2]
Exactly as he does in the book itself, Harris’ response is to claim well-being as directly analogous to health. He rephrases each of the challenges replacing “well-being” with health and supposes that this will dispute the validity of the originals. Though pithily acknowledging the imperfection of his analogy Harris nevertheless states, “I maintain that it is good enough to obviate these three criticisms.” Let’s pause to deconstruct that sentence: “I maintain” indicates the point is entirely subjective; “good enough” adds another level of subjectivity; then we finish by having to assume, on Harris own account, that the point is solid. What need one do in order to demonstrate that Harris is wrong? Disagree. When discourse remains on a subjective level we are not dealing with rational argumentation but with mere opinion. If one doesn’t care what Harris maintains and sees the analogy as not “good enough” then the criticism is no longer obviated. It is still in play and able to be called upon whenever one does not accept Harris’ opinion.
He concludes without even returning to well-being, as though the case for valuing health were the topic in question. These continue as he discusses the first two criticisms with regards to health without ever reaching “measurement problem”. His finale gets us back to the essential (for Harris) analogy with health:
“Unless you understand that human health is a domain of genuine truth claims—however difficult “health” may be to define—it is impossible to think clearly about disease. I believe the same can be said about morality.” [2]
Again we are left with a subjective point – “I believe”. All Harris seems to do is make that assertion and to expect us to accept that all the arguments for health can be easily and directly applied to well-being. Health invokes different points of concern than well-being. Whereas the former, in anything but a metaphorical sense, applies to individuals, the latter can operate easily on many levels. As such we may cogently ask whose well-being is at stake. A major flaw is that Harris never quite seems to establish what priorities should be given in cases where there are conflicting interests (between individuals or between societies and individuals).
Instead he relies on naive statements about the best or worst case scenarios where either everyone or no one suffers. As Patricia Churchland (a friend of Harris) put it, “Sam Harris is a child when it comes to addressing morality” [3]. Churchland’s is perhaps the most polite way of phrasing the issue: Harris’ treatment is immature and often reminiscent of reading what a child may postulate if given a simple essay task. Here’s an example of his immature sentiments:
“a universe in which all conscious beings suffer the worst possible misery is worse than a universe in which they experience well-being. This is all we need to speak about ‘moral truth’ in the context of science. Once we admit that the extremes of absolute misery and absolute flourishing – whatever these states amount to for each particular being in the end – are different and dependant on facts about the universe, then we have admitted that there are right and wrong answers to questions of morality.”(p.59)
Discussions of absolute states such as the above have no actual merit resolving practical states. There is not a simple clean choice between maximum good and maximum bad. Notice also the relativism contained in the centre of that quote. Harris does not obviously consider the very possible situation that maximum flourishing could be seen to entail some degree of misery to satisfy any sadistic beings present. On that note it would render the absolute situation of his invention impossible.
Here’s one final part that needs to be pointed out- the morally insane grizzly. When discussing psychopaths, Harris has this to say:
“Consider the prospect of being locked in a cage with a wild grizzly: why would this be a problem? Well, clearly, wild grizzlies suffer some rather glaring cognitive and emotional deficits. Your new roommate will not be easy to reason with or placate; he is unlikely to recognize that you have interest analogous to his own, or that the two of you might have shared interests; and if he could understand such things, he would probably lack the emotional resources to care. From his point of view you will be a distraction at best, a cowering annoyance, and something tender to probe with his teeth. We might say that a wild bear is, like a psychopath, morally insane.” (ML, p.133)
First of all, depending on the other features of the scenario (i.e. is the cage on a deserted island or are there jailors?) surely the bear will see hypothetical-Harris as a source of food “at best”! This would be for the simple reason that the bear’s major biological imperatives are to survive and to reproduce. Given the absence of a female bear, there’s only thing he will be driven to do: ensure his own survival. Moving further into taking this stream of (poor) thought seriously, one might observe that what we have is a legitimate case of relativism. The bear’s alleged “cognitive and emotional deficits” are only deficits from the human’s point of view. In grizzly terms there is no insanity or deficit. What I mean to convey by saying this is a legitimate case of relativism is that we are clearly looking at an example where comparison is impossible. One can argue that those conditions would only be satisfied by a truly alien culture represented by biologically distinct organisms (in this case, that of the bear but hypothetically an extraterrestrial civilisation). Countering relativism with regards to morality, ethics or other matters is merely a matter of recognising that there are no mutually independent of totally incomparable systems of thought in human culture. In the words of Bernard Williams:
“A fully indivisible culture is at best a rare thing. Cultures, subcultures, fragments of cultures, constantly meet one another and exchange and modify practices and attitudes. Social practices could never come forward with a certificate saying that they belonged to a genuinely different culture, so that they were guaranteed immunity to alien judgements and reactions.” (Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy, p.176)
I suggest Williams’ Ethics (now available as an imprint of Routledge Classics) for those interested in the topic of morality. As for Moral Landscape I have the following to say as a final rejoinder: it is poorly informed, ignoring most of the relevant literature; poorly argued as it starts and finishes with the same assertive stance without any convincing case being put forward between these points; poorly structured, reading more like an extended opinion piece that is top-loaded then quickly loses its bearings (even entering into totally spurious territory where the central claims are laid aside to berate Francis Collins – Chapter 4); and simply a displeasure to read due to Harris’ onerous prose style.
[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtH3Q54T-M8
[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-critics
[3] https://www.equinoxpub.com/acumen/index.php/TPM/article/viewFile/Churchland/11706
Postscript:
For those interested the phrase ‘moral landscape’ refers to “a hypothetical space ... of real and potential outcomes whose peaks correspond to the heights of potential well-being and whose valleys correspond to the deepest possible suffering” (ML, pp.18-9). However, as Harris concedes towards the end of the book:
“if evil turned out to be as reliable a path to happiness as goodness is, my argument about the moral landscape would still stand ... It would no longer be an especially ‘moral’ landscape; rather it would be a continuum of well-being, upon which saints and sinners would occupy equivalent peaks.” (ML, p.242)
It is, in actual fact, nothing more than a geography of well-being invoked to reify Harris’ assertions.
I had intended to include aspects of the reviews I read and also go into full detail. The demands of brevity again exert themselves and I must restrict myself in the scope of this analysis. For that reason I will focus on two major issues, both of which are fairly objective and avoid the recurrent issue of Harris’ elusive contentions. The first will be his definition of ‘science’, the second his use of ‘well-being’ as the central aspect of his system of morality.
What I quoted above is far from the only instance where Harris provides a comment which duly describes his own work. At one point Harris notes that anyone is “free to define ‘science’ any way they want” (ML, p.61). Surely though this is an outright falsehood. While Harris claims there are right and wrong answers to moral questions, there certainly are right and wrong definitions. An essential preface to talking about Moral Landscape or Harris’ assertions that ‘science can tell us about morality’ in general is that, in a strict sense, when he says science he doesn’t mean science. Or more specifically, he means a lot more than the hard sciences (physics, biology, chemistry) that are usually indicated or alluded to when ‘science’ is deployed. Harris is open about this (in his notes but not the main text). Therein he writes:
“For the purposes of this discussion, I do not intend to make a hard distinction between ‘science’ and other intellectual contexts in which we discuss ‘facts’ – e.g. history ... I think ‘science’ therefore, should be considered a specialized branch of a larger effort to form true beliefs about events in the world.” (ML, p.249)
Notably, half of the declaration advocates ‘science’ being read broadly yet the final sentence returns to a point of distinction. This is likely so that Harris can achieve his ends (which require the expansive view) and deflect claims he fails to provide science with sufficient identity. Taken in connection to this definition one can read Harris’ efforts as being about factual discourse and morality, not science and morality. Regarding the potential challenge to his assertion about science determining morality posed by restrictive definitions, Harris writes:
“Some people maintain this view [there are no right/wrong answers about morality] by defining ‘science’ in exceedingly narrow terms, as though it were synonymous with mathematical modelling or immediate access to experimental data. However, this is to mistake science for a few of its tools. Science simply represents our best effort to understand what is going on in the universe, and the boundary between it and rest of rational thought cannot always be drawn.” (ML, p.45)
Yes, science does represent our best effort to understand the world (and beyond that, the universe). But it is the best because of the tools which it uses. For Harris then, anything that is the ‘best effort’ is ‘science’. Speaking with greater specificity and accuracy, one might say that while science is quite distinct, scientific approaches do appear in other fields. For example, methodological naturalism is central to hard sciences such as physics and also history in that no one factors supernatural causes into their explanation of events. Likewise, evidence is the ultimate arbiter of one’s conclusions in such fields which is why these may be considered, alongside the traditional sciences, as parts of factual discourse.
What is ultimately wrong with Harris’ inclusivity? Basically this ignores the past two centuries and takes the meaning of ‘science’ back to Coleridge’s day when it referred to any systematic knowledge. Science is no longer just science but a collection of any discipline which aims to produce factual knowledge. These may be called scientific but to label them science is either misrepresentative or in need of further qualification. Most importantly, it diminishes the force of his statement. In an exchange with Peter Singer [1], Harris also accepted the inclusion of philosophy into the list of what could, by his intentions, be called science. Once that concession is made, saying ‘science can tell us about morality’ becomes interchangeable with saying, ‘philosophy can tell us about morality’. What has philosophy been doing since the time of the Ancient Greeks? Among other things it has been trying to tell us about morality, the good life, right and wrong, etc. Instantaneously Harris’ novelty dissipates.
Having dealt with the problem of Harris’ definition of science I will now look at a term Harris fails to define: well-being. Harris claims that ‘well-being’ is the measure of what is good and to what degree it is good. Problematically, he has no clear definition:
“Many readers might wonder how can we base our values on something as difficult to define as ‘well-being’? It seems to me, that the concept of well-being is like the concept of physical health: it resists precise definition, and yet it is indispensible.” (ML, p.24)
Actually the concept is only indispensible in the event that one claims well-being should be the measure of what is good. A major issue arises if one considers that there is no way to scientifically quantify such an amorphous entity. He has been called out on this point before. On the topic of well-being Harris criticizes Sean Carroll’s argument against him in typically assertive yet digressionary style:
“The physicist Sean Carroll has written a fair amount against me on this point (again, without having read my book), and he is in the habit of saying things like, “I don’t know what a unit of well-being is,” as though he were regretfully delivering the killing blow to my thesis. I would venture that Carroll doesn’t know what a unit of depression is either—and units of joy, disgust, boredom, irony, envy, or any other mental state worth studying won’t be forthcoming.” [2]
The difference is that Carroll has not written a book wherein the concept depression etc. is central to his case. In other words, what Harris says does not relieve the burden upon his shoulders to actually define well-being. When Harris lists three “distinct challenges” all of them relate to well-being [2], showing how truly central it is to his case. We will focus here on the last one:
“Even if we did agree to grant “well-being” primacy in any discussion of morality, it is difficult or impossible to define it with rigor. It is, therefore, impossible to measure well-being scientifically. Thus, there can be no science of morality. (The Measurement Problem)” [2]
Exactly as he does in the book itself, Harris’ response is to claim well-being as directly analogous to health. He rephrases each of the challenges replacing “well-being” with health and supposes that this will dispute the validity of the originals. Though pithily acknowledging the imperfection of his analogy Harris nevertheless states, “I maintain that it is good enough to obviate these three criticisms.” Let’s pause to deconstruct that sentence: “I maintain” indicates the point is entirely subjective; “good enough” adds another level of subjectivity; then we finish by having to assume, on Harris own account, that the point is solid. What need one do in order to demonstrate that Harris is wrong? Disagree. When discourse remains on a subjective level we are not dealing with rational argumentation but with mere opinion. If one doesn’t care what Harris maintains and sees the analogy as not “good enough” then the criticism is no longer obviated. It is still in play and able to be called upon whenever one does not accept Harris’ opinion.
He concludes without even returning to well-being, as though the case for valuing health were the topic in question. These continue as he discusses the first two criticisms with regards to health without ever reaching “measurement problem”. His finale gets us back to the essential (for Harris) analogy with health:
“Unless you understand that human health is a domain of genuine truth claims—however difficult “health” may be to define—it is impossible to think clearly about disease. I believe the same can be said about morality.” [2]
Again we are left with a subjective point – “I believe”. All Harris seems to do is make that assertion and to expect us to accept that all the arguments for health can be easily and directly applied to well-being. Health invokes different points of concern than well-being. Whereas the former, in anything but a metaphorical sense, applies to individuals, the latter can operate easily on many levels. As such we may cogently ask whose well-being is at stake. A major flaw is that Harris never quite seems to establish what priorities should be given in cases where there are conflicting interests (between individuals or between societies and individuals).
Instead he relies on naive statements about the best or worst case scenarios where either everyone or no one suffers. As Patricia Churchland (a friend of Harris) put it, “Sam Harris is a child when it comes to addressing morality” [3]. Churchland’s is perhaps the most polite way of phrasing the issue: Harris’ treatment is immature and often reminiscent of reading what a child may postulate if given a simple essay task. Here’s an example of his immature sentiments:
“a universe in which all conscious beings suffer the worst possible misery is worse than a universe in which they experience well-being. This is all we need to speak about ‘moral truth’ in the context of science. Once we admit that the extremes of absolute misery and absolute flourishing – whatever these states amount to for each particular being in the end – are different and dependant on facts about the universe, then we have admitted that there are right and wrong answers to questions of morality.”(p.59)
Discussions of absolute states such as the above have no actual merit resolving practical states. There is not a simple clean choice between maximum good and maximum bad. Notice also the relativism contained in the centre of that quote. Harris does not obviously consider the very possible situation that maximum flourishing could be seen to entail some degree of misery to satisfy any sadistic beings present. On that note it would render the absolute situation of his invention impossible.
Here’s one final part that needs to be pointed out- the morally insane grizzly. When discussing psychopaths, Harris has this to say:
“Consider the prospect of being locked in a cage with a wild grizzly: why would this be a problem? Well, clearly, wild grizzlies suffer some rather glaring cognitive and emotional deficits. Your new roommate will not be easy to reason with or placate; he is unlikely to recognize that you have interest analogous to his own, or that the two of you might have shared interests; and if he could understand such things, he would probably lack the emotional resources to care. From his point of view you will be a distraction at best, a cowering annoyance, and something tender to probe with his teeth. We might say that a wild bear is, like a psychopath, morally insane.” (ML, p.133)
First of all, depending on the other features of the scenario (i.e. is the cage on a deserted island or are there jailors?) surely the bear will see hypothetical-Harris as a source of food “at best”! This would be for the simple reason that the bear’s major biological imperatives are to survive and to reproduce. Given the absence of a female bear, there’s only thing he will be driven to do: ensure his own survival. Moving further into taking this stream of (poor) thought seriously, one might observe that what we have is a legitimate case of relativism. The bear’s alleged “cognitive and emotional deficits” are only deficits from the human’s point of view. In grizzly terms there is no insanity or deficit. What I mean to convey by saying this is a legitimate case of relativism is that we are clearly looking at an example where comparison is impossible. One can argue that those conditions would only be satisfied by a truly alien culture represented by biologically distinct organisms (in this case, that of the bear but hypothetically an extraterrestrial civilisation). Countering relativism with regards to morality, ethics or other matters is merely a matter of recognising that there are no mutually independent of totally incomparable systems of thought in human culture. In the words of Bernard Williams:
“A fully indivisible culture is at best a rare thing. Cultures, subcultures, fragments of cultures, constantly meet one another and exchange and modify practices and attitudes. Social practices could never come forward with a certificate saying that they belonged to a genuinely different culture, so that they were guaranteed immunity to alien judgements and reactions.” (Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy, p.176)
I suggest Williams’ Ethics (now available as an imprint of Routledge Classics) for those interested in the topic of morality. As for Moral Landscape I have the following to say as a final rejoinder: it is poorly informed, ignoring most of the relevant literature; poorly argued as it starts and finishes with the same assertive stance without any convincing case being put forward between these points; poorly structured, reading more like an extended opinion piece that is top-loaded then quickly loses its bearings (even entering into totally spurious territory where the central claims are laid aside to berate Francis Collins – Chapter 4); and simply a displeasure to read due to Harris’ onerous prose style.
[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtH3Q54T-M8
[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-critics
[3] https://www.equinoxpub.com/acumen/index.php/TPM/article/viewFile/Churchland/11706
Postscript:
For those interested the phrase ‘moral landscape’ refers to “a hypothetical space ... of real and potential outcomes whose peaks correspond to the heights of potential well-being and whose valleys correspond to the deepest possible suffering” (ML, pp.18-9). However, as Harris concedes towards the end of the book:
“if evil turned out to be as reliable a path to happiness as goodness is, my argument about the moral landscape would still stand ... It would no longer be an especially ‘moral’ landscape; rather it would be a continuum of well-being, upon which saints and sinners would occupy equivalent peaks.” (ML, p.242)
It is, in actual fact, nothing more than a geography of well-being invoked to reify Harris’ assertions.
Labels:
Ethics,
Sam Harris,
The Moral Landscape
Monday, January 14, 2013
The End of Everyone Else's Faith, Part II: Oxymoron; or, A Religious Critic of Religion
Having established quite simply that Buddhism is a religion, we can now look at what else Harris says about it. In examining his treatments of certain ideas one can see a commitment, founded on faith, in Buddhist concepts. I do not want this Harris-spree to last forever, so I am going to compress the rest of my conclusions (at least those not bearing directly on Moral Landscape or Free Will) regarding his faith into this post. Brevity will naturally win out over comprehensiveness. However, readers are directed towards the cited sources, a number of which elaborate on aspects of the Harris’ hypocrisy [see: 11, 12, 13, and 14].
A rather direct exposition of Harris’ essentially religious commitment to the ‘teachings of the Buddha’ can be found in his “Killing the Buddha” piece. Originally published in the Shambhala Sun, the intro notes that it is written by “Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith, who argues that Buddhism’s philosophy, insight, and practices would benefit more people if they were not presented as a religion” [1]. So we see an agenda quite plainly: to spread the content of Buddhist thought. That the intention requires divesting Buddhism of its status as a religion suggests that those Harris aims at would be less inclined to accept them if they knew the truth.
To say Buddhism deserves different treatment is logically equal to saying that the facets of Christianity should not be presented as religion. Let's examine the logical implications. Creationism (labelled as Intelligent Design) is presented as science; the Gospels are often presented as history. Does this mean that creationism and the Gospel accounts are scientific and historical rather than religious? No. It means that someone is either mistaken (if sincere) or deliberately trying to deceive. Such actions misrepresent what is being conveyed. Hence it is reasonable to say that Harris wants to misrepresent Buddhism. This shows Harris himself to be Buddhist in the same way as other religious persons who try to recast their belief system as truthful and non-contentious. He may claim he is talking about science but the truth of the matter rests uncomfortably beneath his grandiose verbiage.
“But wait”, a hypothetical interjector may say, “Sam says he isn’t a Buddhist.” That he does in his “Response to Controversy” piece [2]. It merits noting that this document was both created and maintained due to the fact that Harris was being ‘misunderstood’. In the previous post I mentioned the fact that he has a problem with communicating and this is some of the best proof of both his failures on that count and also his tendency to express divergent views. In a section concerning Eastern mysticism and Buddhism, Harris states: “While I consider Buddhism almost unique among the world’s religions as a repository of contemplative wisdom, I do not consider myself a Buddhist” [2]. Firstly, his language betrays the knowledge that Buddhism is a religion. Secondly, coming from Harris this assuaging of a label is meaningless. Elsewhere, when countering complaints about his views on the term atheism, Harris states, “My point, with respect to the term “atheist” (or any other), is that the use of a label invites a variety of misunderstandings that are harmful to our cause” [3]. Taken in the context of his own thoughts, not using the term Buddhist is entirely consistent with a general attitude towards labels and the goal of spreading certain ideas.
Here’s a simple illustration of his faith in Buddhism: by Harris own account “According to the teachings of Buddhism, meditation produces profound insights into the nature of human subjectivity; insights that can have a direct a bearing upon a person’s ethical life and level of happiness” [4]. Where that view becomes important is in the pronouncements that Harris makes without overt recourse to the fact he has effectively drawn these conclusions from Buddhist conviction. Consider the following:
“In many respects, Buddhism is very much like science. One starts with the hypothesis that using attention in the prescribed way (meditation), and engaging in or avoiding certain behaviors (ethics), will bear the promised result (wisdom and psychological well-being). This spirit of empiricism animates Buddhism to a unique degree. For this reason, the methodology of Buddhism, if shorn of its religious encumbrances, could be one of our greatest resources as we struggle to develop our scientific understanding of human subjectivity.” [1]
“There is simply no question that people have transformative experiences as a result of engaging contemplative disciplines like meditation, and there is no question that these experiences shed some light on the nature of the human mind (any experience does, for that matter).” [2]
“I believe contemplative efforts of this sort [meditation etc.] have a lot to tell us about the nature of the mind” [5]
“What words should we use to acknowledge the fact that the happiest person on this earth at this moment might have spent the last twenty years living alone in a cave? Any experienced meditator knows that this is a serious possibility. (Indeed, I consider it not only possible, but likely.)” [6]
“As any serious practitioner of meditation knows, there is something to the claims that have been made by mystics over the ages” [6]
Regarding the last two one may say that whether anyone committed to a certain system of belief would admit of the possibility is irrelevant. Until there’s a fact there’s nothing but a religious concept. What is present in this statement if not faith? Looking back to the second statement it is plainly obvious that if “any experience does” then Buddhist practices are disinvested of their supposedly unique utility. Nevertheless, Harris suggests we use Buddhist “methodology” to produce a “contemplative science” [1]. Why Buddhist methodology? No convincing reason is given and we are left with Harris’ (pre-existent) belief that this can be done. Again, we have a conviction on the grounds of faith.
Harris suggests we shear Buddhist teachings of their religious attributes in order to create this “science of consciousness” [1]. To articulate the point he asserts “Christians invented physics as we know it, and the Muslims invented algebra”, therefore it is seen as no great leap to claim as he does that Buddhists could have invented a science [1]. He proceeds to state, “Today, anyone who emphasizes the Christian roots of physics or the Muslim roots of algebra would stand convicted of not understanding these disciplines at all” [1]. Unfortunately, but certainly not surprisingly in the context of Harris’ writing, no substantive explanation is offered to clarify the meaning of these claims. What does it actually mean to say “Christians invented physics”? Does Harris simply seek to make the observation that Newton, Faraday and other pioneers of physics were Christian (albeit of mostly different sects)? Does he actually want to argue that Christianity and Islam involve the nucleus of these scientific practices? Without clarification one cannot be certain which claim to address. Herein we see the aforementioned problem of engagement that plagues Harris’ work and leaves open the numerous doors through which he would abscond if cornered on the point.
While physics and algebra did first arise out of Christian and Muslim societies respectively this does not make them the inventions of religion. To say they were would require a clear linkage between religious beliefs and the final product. Saying that belief in an orderly universe, to take the Christian example often cited by proponents of the unification of science and religion, produced physics is insufficient. Why? Because all that belief does is to suggest a possibility into which one must look to find out what the reality is. That physics was the ultimate result is counterbalanced by the fact that other religious beliefs have failed to produce scientific disciplines. One is therefore not guaranteed of such a result as Harris suggests. As he typically does, Harris is imagining an allegedly possible future. In this case one where Buddhism turns out to have produced the next physics or algebra. He is free (well actually no, not according to Harris himself, who sees free will as an illusion) to have his fancies. None of these represent a convincing argument or a valid case though.
Overall the article seems based on circular reasoning: Harris assumes that Buddhism has something (scientific) to say and then calls for a new science to be developed based on its “methodology”. If Buddhism can make an empirical contribution to knowledge then I am happy to see it do so. However, the claim requires evidence before we can even validly state that it has something to contribute. Minus the evidence it is nothing more than one man’s belief. And that’s what religion often comes down to: one man’s belief, before and without the evidence to make it true.
Both in a spurious chapter of Moral Landscape and elsewhere Harris criticizes Francis Collins, current head of the NIH, for suggesting that his Christian beliefs (which are expansively liberal) do not conflict with contemporary science [7]. What’s the difference between Collins’ claims about Christianity and Harris’ about Buddhism? Both claims that their religion and science do not conflict. Accusing Collins’ religion of undermining his scientific capacity Harris asserts, “It can be difficult to think like a scientist ... few things make thinking like a scientist more difficult than religion” [7]. That’s quite true. But it is a problem equally for Harris as it is for Collins. Moreover, to my knowledge Collins does not attempt to import his beliefs into science or suggest they can bring about new scientific disciplines. In that regard he is more reasonable than Harris.
It appears that Harris is simply being hypocritical, holding a double standard where his religion is valid while anyone else’s must be called into question. For posterity let me say I take an equally negative view of each. Furthermore, although he claims that science can address questions of morality, and rebukes Collins for suggesting that there are questions outside of the scope of science [7], Harris has this to say in End of Faith:
“The idea that brains produce consciousness is little more than an article of faith among scientists at present, and there are many reasons to believe that the methods of science will be insufficient to either prove or disprove it.“ (End Of Faith, p.208)
So apparently there are questions beyond the scope of science. It is just that those questions happen to be those which Harris’ religious beliefs depend upon instead of those that Collins’ requires. A Washington Post article based on an interview with him provides the following self-indictment: “Harris says ... Because Christians and Jews cling to their "delusions," they are in no position to criticize Muslims for theirs” [8]. Basically this amounts to the same moral as ‘the pot calling the kettle black’. Unfortunately for Harris he occupies an equally compromised position wherein the most he can do is rebuke the faith of others while resting on his own. Similar views are expressed by Harris in a New Statesman article where he is quoted as saying, “the devout tacitly reject thousands of gods, along with the cherished doctrines of every religion but their own” [9]. Again, this serves as an apt description of Harris himself: all religions are false save thy own.
It is hard to separate out the beliefs that Harris espouses and those of his Buddhist background. Although Harris has declared that he was formerly a “dogmatic Buddhist” [10], Theodore Sayeed rightly points out that Harris was not raised in a Buddhist context but rather chose to immerse himself in and convert to the belief system [11]. In asking whether Harris “mishmash of Buddhism and "Time-Life Mysteries of The Unknown," might “weaken his case against Christians”, John Gorenfeld observes, “His answer is that Buddhism is a superior product” [12]. Consistently Harris has been shown to adopt the stable maxim of the religious that ‘my faith and beliefs are the true way forward’. As early as 2005 academic and science writer, Meera Nanda provided the following highly acute description of End of Faith:
“In his much acclaimed The End of Faith, Sam Harris declares the death of faith, only to celebrate the birth of spirituality ... This bilious attack on faith only sets the stage for what seems to be his real goal: a defense [sic.] -- nay, a celebration of -- Harris's own Buddhist/Hindu spirituality.” [13]
By not being a traditional or “dogmatic” adherent, Harris can most accurately be described as a religious moderate. On this point, Gorenfeld quite rightly observes that Harris, “Like any religious moderate ... has picked and chosen what he likes from a religion” [12]. Ironically, Harris reserves some of his most direct language for the denouncement of religious moderates. It is telling to see how sheepish Harris acts, when faced with an audience of scientists, regarding his other notable belief (in reincarnation – see: 14) when called out on his leniency towards Buddhism by Laurence Krauss [15]. Starting with Buddhism, Harris has built a faith out of the tenets of his former dogma blended with scientistic language and a few idiosyncratic motifs which make him a paradigm example of today’s spiritual landscape where religious doctrine is eschewed for personal identity bricolage.
In adherence to a religion one has a certain amount of vested commitment to specific ideas and metaphysical schemata. This commitment comes before, and is often seen not to require, rational or empirical deliberation. Having shown that when Sam Harris decalres the end of faith he really means the end of any faith he doesn't endorse, I will move on to critically examining Moral Landscape.
[1] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/killing-the-buddha/
[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-controversy2/
[3] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-my-fellow-atheists
[4] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/a-contemplative-science
[5] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/consciousness-without-faith
[6] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/rational-mysticism
[7] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/science-is-in-the-details
[8]http://www.washingtonpost.com/wpdyn/content/article/2006/10/25/AR2006102501998_2.html
[9] http://www.newstatesman.com/religion/2011/07/god-evidence-believe-world
[10] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fd7u_JieXFI&feature=channel&list=UL#t=2m36s
[11] http://mondoweiss.net/2012/09/sam-harris-in-full-court-intellectual-mystic-and-supporter-of-the-iraq-war.html
[12]http://www.alternet.org/story/46196/sam_harris%27s_faith_in_eastern_spirituality_and_muslim_torture
[13]http://www.sacw.net/free/Trading%20Faith%20for%20Spirituality_%20The%20Mystifications%20of%20Sam%20Harris.html
[14] http://www.skepdic.com/news/newsletter74.html
[15] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lXdIuxATtQ#t=1h47m52s For Krauss’ statements watch from 1:45. Note: Harris claims that his leniency is not because of an “affinity” born of either background or Buddhists but because of a subjective opinion – “I happen to think” – which directly illustrates Harris’ faith-based belief in that system of thought over others.
A rather direct exposition of Harris’ essentially religious commitment to the ‘teachings of the Buddha’ can be found in his “Killing the Buddha” piece. Originally published in the Shambhala Sun, the intro notes that it is written by “Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith, who argues that Buddhism’s philosophy, insight, and practices would benefit more people if they were not presented as a religion” [1]. So we see an agenda quite plainly: to spread the content of Buddhist thought. That the intention requires divesting Buddhism of its status as a religion suggests that those Harris aims at would be less inclined to accept them if they knew the truth.
To say Buddhism deserves different treatment is logically equal to saying that the facets of Christianity should not be presented as religion. Let's examine the logical implications. Creationism (labelled as Intelligent Design) is presented as science; the Gospels are often presented as history. Does this mean that creationism and the Gospel accounts are scientific and historical rather than religious? No. It means that someone is either mistaken (if sincere) or deliberately trying to deceive. Such actions misrepresent what is being conveyed. Hence it is reasonable to say that Harris wants to misrepresent Buddhism. This shows Harris himself to be Buddhist in the same way as other religious persons who try to recast their belief system as truthful and non-contentious. He may claim he is talking about science but the truth of the matter rests uncomfortably beneath his grandiose verbiage.
“But wait”, a hypothetical interjector may say, “Sam says he isn’t a Buddhist.” That he does in his “Response to Controversy” piece [2]. It merits noting that this document was both created and maintained due to the fact that Harris was being ‘misunderstood’. In the previous post I mentioned the fact that he has a problem with communicating and this is some of the best proof of both his failures on that count and also his tendency to express divergent views. In a section concerning Eastern mysticism and Buddhism, Harris states: “While I consider Buddhism almost unique among the world’s religions as a repository of contemplative wisdom, I do not consider myself a Buddhist” [2]. Firstly, his language betrays the knowledge that Buddhism is a religion. Secondly, coming from Harris this assuaging of a label is meaningless. Elsewhere, when countering complaints about his views on the term atheism, Harris states, “My point, with respect to the term “atheist” (or any other), is that the use of a label invites a variety of misunderstandings that are harmful to our cause” [3]. Taken in the context of his own thoughts, not using the term Buddhist is entirely consistent with a general attitude towards labels and the goal of spreading certain ideas.
Here’s a simple illustration of his faith in Buddhism: by Harris own account “According to the teachings of Buddhism, meditation produces profound insights into the nature of human subjectivity; insights that can have a direct a bearing upon a person’s ethical life and level of happiness” [4]. Where that view becomes important is in the pronouncements that Harris makes without overt recourse to the fact he has effectively drawn these conclusions from Buddhist conviction. Consider the following:
“In many respects, Buddhism is very much like science. One starts with the hypothesis that using attention in the prescribed way (meditation), and engaging in or avoiding certain behaviors (ethics), will bear the promised result (wisdom and psychological well-being). This spirit of empiricism animates Buddhism to a unique degree. For this reason, the methodology of Buddhism, if shorn of its religious encumbrances, could be one of our greatest resources as we struggle to develop our scientific understanding of human subjectivity.” [1]
“There is simply no question that people have transformative experiences as a result of engaging contemplative disciplines like meditation, and there is no question that these experiences shed some light on the nature of the human mind (any experience does, for that matter).” [2]
“I believe contemplative efforts of this sort [meditation etc.] have a lot to tell us about the nature of the mind” [5]
“What words should we use to acknowledge the fact that the happiest person on this earth at this moment might have spent the last twenty years living alone in a cave? Any experienced meditator knows that this is a serious possibility. (Indeed, I consider it not only possible, but likely.)” [6]
“As any serious practitioner of meditation knows, there is something to the claims that have been made by mystics over the ages” [6]
Regarding the last two one may say that whether anyone committed to a certain system of belief would admit of the possibility is irrelevant. Until there’s a fact there’s nothing but a religious concept. What is present in this statement if not faith? Looking back to the second statement it is plainly obvious that if “any experience does” then Buddhist practices are disinvested of their supposedly unique utility. Nevertheless, Harris suggests we use Buddhist “methodology” to produce a “contemplative science” [1]. Why Buddhist methodology? No convincing reason is given and we are left with Harris’ (pre-existent) belief that this can be done. Again, we have a conviction on the grounds of faith.
Harris suggests we shear Buddhist teachings of their religious attributes in order to create this “science of consciousness” [1]. To articulate the point he asserts “Christians invented physics as we know it, and the Muslims invented algebra”, therefore it is seen as no great leap to claim as he does that Buddhists could have invented a science [1]. He proceeds to state, “Today, anyone who emphasizes the Christian roots of physics or the Muslim roots of algebra would stand convicted of not understanding these disciplines at all” [1]. Unfortunately, but certainly not surprisingly in the context of Harris’ writing, no substantive explanation is offered to clarify the meaning of these claims. What does it actually mean to say “Christians invented physics”? Does Harris simply seek to make the observation that Newton, Faraday and other pioneers of physics were Christian (albeit of mostly different sects)? Does he actually want to argue that Christianity and Islam involve the nucleus of these scientific practices? Without clarification one cannot be certain which claim to address. Herein we see the aforementioned problem of engagement that plagues Harris’ work and leaves open the numerous doors through which he would abscond if cornered on the point.
While physics and algebra did first arise out of Christian and Muslim societies respectively this does not make them the inventions of religion. To say they were would require a clear linkage between religious beliefs and the final product. Saying that belief in an orderly universe, to take the Christian example often cited by proponents of the unification of science and religion, produced physics is insufficient. Why? Because all that belief does is to suggest a possibility into which one must look to find out what the reality is. That physics was the ultimate result is counterbalanced by the fact that other religious beliefs have failed to produce scientific disciplines. One is therefore not guaranteed of such a result as Harris suggests. As he typically does, Harris is imagining an allegedly possible future. In this case one where Buddhism turns out to have produced the next physics or algebra. He is free (well actually no, not according to Harris himself, who sees free will as an illusion) to have his fancies. None of these represent a convincing argument or a valid case though.
Overall the article seems based on circular reasoning: Harris assumes that Buddhism has something (scientific) to say and then calls for a new science to be developed based on its “methodology”. If Buddhism can make an empirical contribution to knowledge then I am happy to see it do so. However, the claim requires evidence before we can even validly state that it has something to contribute. Minus the evidence it is nothing more than one man’s belief. And that’s what religion often comes down to: one man’s belief, before and without the evidence to make it true.
Both in a spurious chapter of Moral Landscape and elsewhere Harris criticizes Francis Collins, current head of the NIH, for suggesting that his Christian beliefs (which are expansively liberal) do not conflict with contemporary science [7]. What’s the difference between Collins’ claims about Christianity and Harris’ about Buddhism? Both claims that their religion and science do not conflict. Accusing Collins’ religion of undermining his scientific capacity Harris asserts, “It can be difficult to think like a scientist ... few things make thinking like a scientist more difficult than religion” [7]. That’s quite true. But it is a problem equally for Harris as it is for Collins. Moreover, to my knowledge Collins does not attempt to import his beliefs into science or suggest they can bring about new scientific disciplines. In that regard he is more reasonable than Harris.
It appears that Harris is simply being hypocritical, holding a double standard where his religion is valid while anyone else’s must be called into question. For posterity let me say I take an equally negative view of each. Furthermore, although he claims that science can address questions of morality, and rebukes Collins for suggesting that there are questions outside of the scope of science [7], Harris has this to say in End of Faith:
“The idea that brains produce consciousness is little more than an article of faith among scientists at present, and there are many reasons to believe that the methods of science will be insufficient to either prove or disprove it.“ (End Of Faith, p.208)
So apparently there are questions beyond the scope of science. It is just that those questions happen to be those which Harris’ religious beliefs depend upon instead of those that Collins’ requires. A Washington Post article based on an interview with him provides the following self-indictment: “Harris says ... Because Christians and Jews cling to their "delusions," they are in no position to criticize Muslims for theirs” [8]. Basically this amounts to the same moral as ‘the pot calling the kettle black’. Unfortunately for Harris he occupies an equally compromised position wherein the most he can do is rebuke the faith of others while resting on his own. Similar views are expressed by Harris in a New Statesman article where he is quoted as saying, “the devout tacitly reject thousands of gods, along with the cherished doctrines of every religion but their own” [9]. Again, this serves as an apt description of Harris himself: all religions are false save thy own.
It is hard to separate out the beliefs that Harris espouses and those of his Buddhist background. Although Harris has declared that he was formerly a “dogmatic Buddhist” [10], Theodore Sayeed rightly points out that Harris was not raised in a Buddhist context but rather chose to immerse himself in and convert to the belief system [11]. In asking whether Harris “mishmash of Buddhism and "Time-Life Mysteries of The Unknown," might “weaken his case against Christians”, John Gorenfeld observes, “His answer is that Buddhism is a superior product” [12]. Consistently Harris has been shown to adopt the stable maxim of the religious that ‘my faith and beliefs are the true way forward’. As early as 2005 academic and science writer, Meera Nanda provided the following highly acute description of End of Faith:
“In his much acclaimed The End of Faith, Sam Harris declares the death of faith, only to celebrate the birth of spirituality ... This bilious attack on faith only sets the stage for what seems to be his real goal: a defense [sic.] -- nay, a celebration of -- Harris's own Buddhist/Hindu spirituality.” [13]
By not being a traditional or “dogmatic” adherent, Harris can most accurately be described as a religious moderate. On this point, Gorenfeld quite rightly observes that Harris, “Like any religious moderate ... has picked and chosen what he likes from a religion” [12]. Ironically, Harris reserves some of his most direct language for the denouncement of religious moderates. It is telling to see how sheepish Harris acts, when faced with an audience of scientists, regarding his other notable belief (in reincarnation – see: 14) when called out on his leniency towards Buddhism by Laurence Krauss [15]. Starting with Buddhism, Harris has built a faith out of the tenets of his former dogma blended with scientistic language and a few idiosyncratic motifs which make him a paradigm example of today’s spiritual landscape where religious doctrine is eschewed for personal identity bricolage.
In adherence to a religion one has a certain amount of vested commitment to specific ideas and metaphysical schemata. This commitment comes before, and is often seen not to require, rational or empirical deliberation. Having shown that when Sam Harris decalres the end of faith he really means the end of any faith he doesn't endorse, I will move on to critically examining Moral Landscape.
[1] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/killing-the-buddha/
[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-controversy2/
[3] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-my-fellow-atheists
[4] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/a-contemplative-science
[5] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/consciousness-without-faith
[6] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/rational-mysticism
[7] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/science-is-in-the-details
[8]http://www.washingtonpost.com/wpdyn/content/article/2006/10/25/AR2006102501998_2.html
[9] http://www.newstatesman.com/religion/2011/07/god-evidence-believe-world
[10] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fd7u_JieXFI&feature=channel&list=UL#t=2m36s
[11] http://mondoweiss.net/2012/09/sam-harris-in-full-court-intellectual-mystic-and-supporter-of-the-iraq-war.html
[12]http://www.alternet.org/story/46196/sam_harris%27s_faith_in_eastern_spirituality_and_muslim_torture
[13]http://www.sacw.net/free/Trading%20Faith%20for%20Spirituality_%20The%20Mystifications%20of%20Sam%20Harris.html
[14] http://www.skepdic.com/news/newsletter74.html
[15] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lXdIuxATtQ#t=1h47m52s For Krauss’ statements watch from 1:45. Note: Harris claims that his leniency is not because of an “affinity” born of either background or Buddhists but because of a subjective opinion – “I happen to think” – which directly illustrates Harris’ faith-based belief in that system of thought over others.
Labels:
Ethics,
Sam Harris,
The End of Faith
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