Books are Good

One interesting observation that I have made over the course of my time at Baylor, is the extent to which being well read is becoming less and less valued. What is being well read? It is not necessarily reading extensively, nor being up to date on all the New York Times Best-Sellers. More nearly, it is having read the classics – not only fiction, but classic philosophy, mythology, important scientific works, etc. Why would anyone want to be well read? Well it seems to me that there are all kinds of references that are thrown around everyday that are throwbacks to these classics. Having read these texts allows us to better appreciate conversation and references in everyday reading.

A much more important point and a better reason to be well read is the extent to which these classics tell us something about ourselves and human nature. After all that is really why these books are interesting and why we should want to invest so much time in reading them. In the end they are useful to us, not simply to help us make witticisms that go over most people’s heads, or to make ourselves sound more intelligent than we are, but more nearly as being informative and thought provoking. In reading these texts we see ourselves reflected back, and can identify with them. I am always amazed when I go to the bookstore at the end of the semester to sell back a few books, and see people returning classics. Granted, they may have other copies of their own but I take it most are simply returning the only copy they have ever, or will ever own - and for what? A few bucks to buy a sandwich or beer? What a waste! It’s one thing to sell back an expensive text book that will probably be obsolete in another year, but it is quite another to sell back something that is worth infinitely more than the bookstore is willing to give you for it. I don’t think people realize the true value of what they are often forced into buying by their professors of that elective class they had to take for some reason as part of their graduation requirements. Indeed, as that old adage goes, “you can’t judge a book by its cover”, but perhaps you can judge a person by the books they have in their library, if they have one at all…

Heresy among the ancients

For the majority of the past week I have been working on my senior thesis which deals with Nietzsche and Walter Kaufmann. While doing a bit of research I actually stumbled across a discussion of many of the ancient thinkers that we have covered heretofore in class. Kaufmann’s discussion is interesting insofar is it highlights an aspect of ancient thinking that perhaps has been glossed over, and which offers a unique characterization of what it means to do philosophy. Kaufmann’s contention is that these ancient thinkers were heretics. That is, their thinking “not only opposed the common sense of their time and some of the most revered names of the past but they did not presume to speak in the name of the Lord or to interpret correctly a previously misunderstood tradition. They pitted their own thinking against the religion and the poetry they knew. And by breaking the exegetic mode of thought and every other form of appeal to authority, they initiated philosophy.” The radical departure from the past that each of the ancient thinkers presents is in a sense very refreshing. It is extraordinarily unique and perhaps not the same kind of philosophy that is done today. In the case of the Milesians, how easy would it have been to reinterpret Thales, or Anaximander, in order to make Anaximenes point, rather than saying, “No, the arche is not water, but x substance.”

The point at issue is the extent to which each philosopher saw himself as breaking from tradition and contemporary thinking. It seems too often we revere tradition or authority to the extent that we see our ideas not in their own terms, but in terms of the tradition. We are afraid to break with established claims and hence hedge our ideas on reinterpretation or exegetical philosophizing. True philosophy begins when we can clearly state our ideas, differentiate ourselves from tradition, and not second guess ourselves when we find that we are in opposition to tradition or contemporary authority. To do philosophy, we cannot be unsettled to find that we are heretics.

Courage and Conviction

Another topic that is linked to the disparity between Roochnik and Curd is the broader implications for the selection of any text book for any class. It seems that most any text book, given certain subject matter, presents information from the standpoint of the author. While some take greater care than others to present an unbiased or objective position, to some extent it seems inevitable that the author’s opinion is represented in the material.

This bias seems to depend extensively on the material. In mathematics, it is harder, or perhaps impossible to present a biased or non-objective take on a proof or some concept. It is inherently checkable and objectively right or wrong. This seems to also be the case for many sciences. However, there definitely are subjective judgments within these fields. For example in physics, there is some debate about the viability of string theory or a theory of everything, as has been proposed. It seems possible that an author could promote either position based on their subjective opinion. However, even here there is some standard, be it internal coherence, predictive power, or scientific rigor, etc. This kind of objectivity is not available in much of the humanities, philosophy included. Here there can be several viable interpretations, outlooks, etc. for historical philosophical thought. As is the case with Roochnik, we can view ancient philosophy as a dialectical progression, or perhaps simply as a series of unrelated, or non-progressive thinkers.

Given this variability, it seems absolutely necessary that any student or reader approach every text critically and cautiously, especially when first being exposed to the material. Indeed, it is easy to read Roochnik’s interpretation and then read the fragments and find his interpretation. It is another to read the fragments and original material, collect one’s own opinions and then temper those against Roochnik’s.

This critical approach seems to be necessary in many other fields, not simply philosophy. In Economics for example, there are countless “summarizations” and “formulations” of the thought of Keynes, Adam Smith, or even Marx. In each, there seems to be a bias that skews the original material, whether to fit certain circumstances or the authors own opinion. In either case, the original material is important because it allows us to explore what was actually said, rather than what someone tells us was said.

It is interesting to think about the way we have been exposed to ideas, particularly new ideas with which we are novices. Usually we rely on someone, whether a professor, teacher, or author who has more experience in the given field, to guide our exploration of the material. It is important to realize that these people have their own incentives, opinions, and interpretations vis-à-vis what they are presenting, and that we should have the intellectual courage to branch out on our own, read the original material, and not be afraid to formulate an interpretation at odds with what we have been exposed to.

Roochnik's Dangerous Idea

So it has been about a month, and I suppose it’s time for another post, or two. For some time I have been intrigued by the selection of text books for our ancient philosophy class, that is the two main texts, Curd and Roochnik. These are very different from one another and their disparity brings up two interesting topics.

The first is the extent to which Roochnik is presenting an implicit view of the ancients that is smuggled in by the way he organizes his presentation of the material. So far as we have read, Roochnik is viewing the ancients as a linear progression of thought that builds and progresses based on the thinking of each subsequent philosopher. This is apparent in his transitions between philosophers and the framing that he offers between their thought. Not only does he link between the Milesians, which is perhaps less tenuous, but also between completely disparate thinkers including Hesiod and Thales, Heraclitus and Parmenides, etc. This methodology contains implicit assumptions which Roochnik fails to address and in some ways biases his presentation for those who fail to read cautiously.

First, this assumes that indeed there is some progress to the history of ancient philosophical thought. This claim is addressed briefly by Roochnik in his introduction. He claims that he is presenting the material in a chronological and dialectical fashion. Here the dialectical refers to a conversation which describes the evolution of ancient thought. It is this dialectical process which suggests progress though history. Roochnik’s claim seems to rely on the assumption that there was indeed contact between thinkers in antiquity and that they were able to understand their predecessors. While this assumption seems probable in certain cases, i.e. the Milesians, it seems untenable in others, viz. between Heraclitus and Parmenides. Since Roochnik does not offer any real evidence for the transmission of thought among these philosophers, and given the relative timetable of some thinkers, it seems very probable that the dialectical process or conversation between philosophers described by Roochnik breaks down.

Another point of contention is the notion of progress though history. It seems only fitting to refer to Nietzsche and this point. “That the great moments in the struggle of individuals form a chain, that in them the high points of humanity are linked throughout millennia, that which is highest in such a moment of the distant past be for me still alive, bright and great – this is the fundamental thought of the faith of humanity which is expressed in the demand for monumental history.” While it is possible to view history as progressive, indeed there are certain elements of this illustrated in the Milesians, a more compelling overarching view seems to me, to be that presented by Nietzsche. “No, the goal of humanity cannot lie at the end but only in its highest specimens.”

Second, viewing the history of ancient philosophical thought as a progression, corners one’s interpretations within a dogmatic framework. That is, in order to tell a compelling story of the progression of ancient thought, Roochnik must commit himself to certain interpretations of each philosophers thought. In this case, Roochnik is making his reading of a philosopher fit his system or overarching goal of the progress in ancient thought. This seems dishonest since Roochnik is not necessarily presenting the most compelling, reasoned, or accurate reading, but merely one which “fits the story”.

It is very interesting the extent to which MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail still resonates with us today. Indeed, the subject matter of the letter is very timely, since its main thrust is concerned with segregation within Birmingham and the South in general which, arguably doesn’t exist today, or at least not in the same form as in the 1960’s. Given the timely nature of the letter and the discussion it would seem easy for us to pass over it or forget its contents like so many other historical events. Yet, there is a reason why we are attracted to reading it, not just as an annual gesture on MLK day, but more broadly in a serious and interested manner. The fact that we can return to the letter and read it seriously points to the timeless nature of the letter and its contents. This is most poignantly illustrated by the content of the letter. While on face it seems as though MLK’s goal is narrowly tailored to address the reservations and objections of several local pastors and reverends, this cannot possibly the real goal of the letter. Indeed, MLK certainly is not naïve enough to believe that he will erase the entrenched prejudice of an entire region by writing a simple letter. Rather what lies at the heart of MLK’s Letter from Birmingham Jail is a challenge, both to those specifically named in the letter and to a much broader audience. The best way to flush this point out is by examining MLK’s point about Socrates and instigating tension. We may ask ourselves, why is Socrates so famous? After all, what did he really do? Indeed, Socrates is known not for giving man some kind of absolute truth, or ready knowledge or something of the sort. Socrates did not go around Athens merely informing people of something that he had discovered. Rather, Socrates is famous simply for challenging people and their thinking. In this manner he was the gadfly on the neck of Athens. Asking people about their views and conceptions of all kinds of things like justice, love, etc. At the end of the elenchus, there wasn’t a realization of a correct view, or even a consensus about what was the correct answer to the original question. There was instead no one answer, and in its place perplexity and intellectual curiosity. Herein lies the real genius of Socrates, for his real feat was to stimulate the intellect and challenge the thinking of all those he came across. Herein also lays the heart of MLK’s Letter from Birmingham Jail. Like Socrates before him, MLK is issuing a challenge to contemporary and entrenched view about segregation and racial inequality. MLK asks us to think about justice, law, and its application with regard to race. Ultimately, presenting one view allows one to object to and then forget the point, but challenging our intellectual curiosity and views about the world is the real key for bringing about change in the world.