Showing posts with label John Locke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Locke. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Question of Authority Pt 2

In the previous post, I described the overall phenomenon of authority as well as the specific context of academic or scholastic authority. In this post, I would like to examine political authority as well as ecclesial (Church) authority--specifically wherein the authority lies, who acknowledges this authority, what is good or bad about it and how we ought to be aware of these things.
The state has been the subject of much philosophical thought and writing. Philosophers from as far back as Plato to even contemporary political scientists and philosophers have taken up the task of understanding political authority. Most college students are familiar with, even if they haven't read, works such as The Republic, Leviathan, Treatise on Government, The Communist Manifesto, etc. Nearly every "Civics" student has read the Declaration of Independence as well as the US Constitution and probably the Magna Carter as well. It would be pointless and futile to attempt to discuss what all of these documents state, but let it suffice that they all treat of proper governance.
All history (written history) speaks of the existence of political powers. However, what is not made clear by much history is how or why political entities exist. What is much more clear, based on histories about wars or revolutions, is that governments are subject to overthrow or replacement if occasion arises and necessitates. Such occasions are usually a matter of unjust governing, though sometimes they are mere facts of more powerful entities entering into conflict with the powers that be.
Suffice it to say, then that no single government, as history has shown us, has been unimpeachable. The revolutions in France throughout the nineteenth century as well as the rise and fall of Communism in Russia in the twentieth are two recent examples of this fact. Our own nation seems stable and solid. It is, however, important to realize first that the United States is only 235 years old (give or take) and that if there is anything to be learned by assassinations, political protests and riots, it is that we do not live in a utopia. Granted, we are not undergoing political unrest like Egypt is currently, but that is no indication of the permanence of the relative peace we have.
It should be acknowledged, then, that political authority is arbitrary authority. The fact of it is that the people ruled by the powers that be accept it as authoritative. As previously mentioned, from time to time the people reject the forces in power. When this takes place on a large enough scale, revolution is the general course of action. Political authority, then, lies, in a certain way, in the complacency of the people.
However, in the United States, unlike many other nations, national identity is of chiefest importance. The notion of "being American" is one of the most widely touted virtues of our society. The War in Iraq was a highly controversial military campaign in which anti-partiotism was a chief charge used against those who would not support the invasion. Similarly, radio, TV, and billboard ads suggest that we ought to vote, join the military, pay our taxes and do other things that connect us with the state. We don't always realize it, but this subtle psychological manipulation shapes our attitudes and our dispositions. Being "un-American" is almost the worst thing a person can be in our society. The question we ought to ask, however, is why that is the case and what exactly it means to be such.
There is also a bit of intimidation in practice. Normally when we think of political intimidation we think of tyrannical "democracies" (such as the political structure in Iran) or fascist regimes.We should also think of any case of police or military brutality. Even without the brutality, is it not true that we often obey certain laws, not because we believe they're correct or just, but merely because we fear the consequences?
The effect of the state as authoritative can be seen most clearly in American culture. As I said above, patriotism is, perhaps, the highest virtue in American popular consciousness. Because of this, certain positions taken by the state or actions done by state agencies can be justified in the name of patriotism. The "Patriot Act," for example, is an instance in which Americans allowed their privacy and freedom to be restricted in exchange for a sense (note: no guarantee) of safety. Similarly, at US airports, passengers trade their sense of decency and privacy for an imagined peace of mind. True, there are some protests, but the voices are nearly muted.
Additionally, any skilled rhetorician can appeal to patriotism with the vigor of Cicero and use it to bolster his case, however unsound or irrational it may be. Take Glenn Beck, for example. This talk show host never attempts to provide real evidence or logical arguments for his positions, yet he constantly attacks "left-wing nutjobs" as being inherently anti-American (and often with the implication that some dramatic course of action ought to be taken against the targets of his rage).
Furthermore, we can lose sight of our other virtues or values if we attend to closely to our allegiance to political authorities. Take, for example, the Cold War, wherein the entire American psyche was focused on building more armaments than our supposed enemy, the Soviet Union. How many people questioned the fact that the US and the USSR were enemies? What was the ground for the dispute? Was an economic system really a viable excuse for threatening the debilitating and dehumanizing act of war? Finally, was there any viable excuse for building enough weapons of mass destruction to destroy the entire world? Few were the voices of protest during this time, and often they were blacklisted or otherwise shunned. The rational mind SHOULD have realized that the political structures in place were a liability to not just Americans or Soviets, but to the entire human population.
The risks, then, of adhering too closely to political authority can range from a mere wrong order of virtues to the much more pernicious risk of global annihilation. Often a voice of dissent is in order. John Locke, one of the foremost thinkers on political theory suggested that should a government become a liability to the people, the people are obligated to overthrow it. On the other hand, for the time being, many governments help bring peace and order to certain regions. It is important to remember, however, as I have stated in previous posts, that anarchy itself is not necessarily an evil, though chaos, some of which exists within, and sometimes because of, political structures, is.
Much of what has been said about political authority is applicable to ecclesial authority. There are a few points to be observed, however. While history AND political theory agree that political power is subject to the agreement of the people, as far as ecclesial authority is concerned, history suggests it requires agreement while theology, canon law and ecclesiastical documents suggest otherwise.
Ecclesial authorities claim that their authority is divinely imbued. Religious figures, such as popes, prophets, caliphs, archbishops, high priests and dalai lamas all claim a privileged authoritative role granted by supernatural powers. The extent to which people follow a specific religion or at least adhere to the religious leaders of their faith shows how much they believe their specific ecclesial authorities have this divine call.
Ideally, a person will follow a specific faith because, after rational inquiry and investigation he finds that the faith provides for him whatever it is he feels he needs in his life. With his conversion, a person will also grant his religious leaders a certain amount of authority. One does not become Catholic if he thinks the pope has no credibility.
However, more often than not, people are born into a specific faith, and, because of their upbringing and the amount of indoctrination they experience, the authority of religious leaders will be a result of psychological manipulation. The unquestioning Catholic, for example, who thinks every word from the pope's mouth is the word of God, is a product of this psychological manipulation. Fortunately, many religions are increasingly emphasizing informed dissent and genuine investigation of authoritative positions. Thus, Catholics are encouraged to follow their conscience, even when it stands against official Church teaching, and are also advised to question any magisterial teaching. Unfortunately, some religions, such as Mormons and Evangelicals, believe that the leaders of the faith must be correct 100% of the time and to doubt their veracity is a grave sin.
Which leads to the use of intimidation in authoritative positions for religious leaders. While religions don't often use actual violence, especially in the last couple centuries, to reinforce authority, they do often use soteriological (salvation-oriented) intimidation. Points of faith that must be taken as undeniable or infallible for one's salvation illustrate the use of intimidation as a tool of retaining authority. The very notion that the pope can be infallible is enough to keep many Catholics from questioning magisterial teachings. No one wants to go to Hell. Some religious leaders, however, use the threat of Hell to give weight to their teachings or positions.
Of course, there are also many who are simply complacent in their faith. I've met many Jews who maintain their Jewish faith as part of their ethnic identity as well as a marker of who they personally feel that they are. Many Irish Catholics stay Catholic because of this, and many Utah Mormons also fit in this category. Family history and tradition can be a major influence on one's trust in one authority over another.
Religious authorities increasingly seek to promote rational thought and dialogue over unquestioned obedience. The Catholic Church, since Vatican II has encouraged questioning. The Dalai Lama has consistently promoted rational and informed decision making. Protestant churches, since the time of Martin Luther, have always questioned the notion of being unquestionably correct. There is nothing wrong with informed obedience. As followers of whatever faith we follow, it is our duty, as rational beings, to try to understand the tenets of our faith.
On the other hand, blind obedience can have detrimental effects. One has only to think of David Koresh, Jim Jones or the Heaven's Gate Cult to realize how blind obedience to religious authorities can have deadly effects, even today. Because of instances like this, or Imams encouraging their faithful to perform "suicide bombings," many have turned a skeptical eye towards religious authority in general, some even labeling it as wholly destructive.
It is important to understand that if we believe that God COULD have given authority to a certain person or institution, we also ought to believe that God endowed us with a spirit of discernment and rationality. If something seems to be counter-intuitive, it ought to be questioned. If something flat out rejects the precepts of reason, it ought to be rejected. If something seems right, it might be. Just like a political authority there are times when we ought to support the authority and follow it, and times when we need to realize the error of choosing such a path.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The Question of Authority Pt 1

If there is anything that most non-Catholic Christians accuse Catholicism of wrongly being, it's excessively papal. The Magisterium is, for many Protestants and Orthodox, a stumbling block and a scandal. The fact that most Catholics believe that "infallibility" means the pope is never wrong and that everything that comes out of the Vatican is the word of God only helps make this problem worse. This raises, for non-Catholics, the question of authority. Many Catholics, myself included, even question the authority of a body of old, celibate, European clerics when it comes to life in the regular world.
It is my goal to look briefly at examples of authority and attempt to make sense of what really goes into them. This post will examine both the nature of authority and discuss intellectual authority. The next post will discuss political and ecclesial authority.
There are many factors that contribute to what exactly authority is. Different disciplines would even give different definitions and different explanations for it. The political scientist would provide an explanation of power dynamics. The social Darwinist could explain strength and how different attributes, such as brute force, intelligence and charisma affect authority. We will begin our discussion, however, with a look to political philosophers.
John Locke and Thomas Hobbes place the authority of governing structures in the human necessity for protection. For Locke, the authority of a political structure only lies in its ability to successfully benefit the populace. For Hobbes, the political structure necessarily requires authoritative figures to protect us from ourselves. For Friedrich Nietzsche, authority is much more complex and is attributable to several competing factors. One such factor is brute strength and violence, an attribute he gives to the now infamous "blond beast" of ancient Europe. Another such factor is cunning and intellectual manipulation, which he attributes to the "weaker" faiths of Judaism and Christianity.
It seems to me that Nietzsche is partially right, at least when it comes to the intellectual portion. People see some agency or person as an authority because they see that person as well-versed and competent in whatever it is he or she is doing. This attribution may be due to intimidation, psychological manipulation, rational evaluation, or simply complacency.
Intimidation, or fear-based authority, is respect for a person or organization due to what one is afraid that person or agency might do. For example, I might consider the king's authority to be legitimate because he killed the previous king, and if I refuse to cooperate, he could kill me as well. Similarly, a child might be afraid of her parents' anger. This is often the authority that binds more vicious people to the law, but can also be seen in examples of harsh teachers, whom students might not respect intellectually but might fear poor marks, or some preachers, who might preach Hell and damnation for disobedience.
Psychological manipulation, it seems to me, is the most common form of authoritative respect. Buzz words to look out for in this style of authority are "brainwashing," "propaganda," "peer-pressure" and "coercion." While intimidation relies on threats and fear, psychological manipulation does better and relies on people actually believing the authority of a subject based mostly on words. The proper way to garner this trust in authority is rhetoric. Generally, a person we trust, one whose authority we already have established, shares with us her trust in another person or institution. Because we respect the judgment and the authority of the person who tells us this, we, in turn, begin to trust the authority of whatever it is she is promoting. Commonly, one hears, "Becky swears by it," or "Joe says she's a great professor," however it is not strictly limited to choosing an authority. Once we have placed our trust in an authority, the rhetoric of that authority, as long as we have no reason to doubt it, will only strengthen its authoritative power over us. This, then, is the arena that people often find patriotism, ecclesiastic loyalty, partisanship, and brand loyalty. Often the authority is not a person, but a group, thus, it holds more sway by sheer numbers.
Rational Inquiry is the most basic form of trust in authority and occurs mostly on the level of persons. As I get to know a person and his or her ideals, I begin to question whether or not he is worth my confidence. As happens sometimes, this could be prevented by my trust in other authorities, perhaps because I belong to a certain religious of philosophical school and he belongs to another, or because our political views are influenced by different political camps. This, then, is the tragedy of the psychological manipulation mentioned above. If our cultured biases interfere with our ability to rationally judge the veracity of a supposed authority, then we have failed to truly understand what authority is. Notable examples of this are Conservatives who dismiss the authority of Ecologists or atheists who dismiss Christian Ethicists. A truly rationally curious approach would examine the technique and the motivation of the authority. A talk-show host who utilizes irrational accusations, baseless claims and appeals to the Ethos is most often less trustworthy than the biologist who utilizes the scientific method and produces results open to scrutiny and replication. The problem, however, of rational inquiry is that it requires a discerning spirit as well as a hard work.
Then there are instances where people are not swayed by appeals to the Pathos, Ethos or Logos. Due to laziness, confusion or apathy, some people attribute authority to those whom they think "probably just know better." This is often the case with people like the lapsed Catholic or the discontent American. He might not agree with the Church on many issues, but because he feels a certain loyalty to it, he will follow regardless, and likely not attempt to reconcile the cognitive dissonance he feels. Similarly, he might regard the decisions and politics of the government as foolish and futile, but going to the ballot box he'll choose the candidate that he thinks will be less likely to make a mess of things. This is the trust of the pessimist. He thinks nothing good will arise, but he sees no preferable alternative.
These four sources, it seems to me, are the main ways in which we decide which authorities to listen to. They appeal, as previously mentioned, to the Pathos, the Ethos and the Logos and often struggle against other competing voices.
In the intellectual world, our trust in authority often depends on matters of psychological manipulation and rational inquiry. We trust a person or an institution as an intellectual authority usually because we have studied its tenets and found them reasonable. We distrust others because we have found them lacking, or because we have been convinced by other authorities that they are wrong.
In academia, this is most often found in the subjects of philosophy and theology. Theologians often have differing theologies, many of which are incompatible with others, but the average theologian will attempt to achieve "balance" by not decrying those of differing mindsets. However, due to the breadth of theological query, which covers two thousand years of thought and most cultures of the world, there are many times when theories compete. Philosophers, on the other hand, are less likely to gingerly talk about their opponents. Since philosophers are usually not operating under a pre-determined set of doctrines or rules, they experience much more freedom to outwardly deny other philosophies and to freely label other philosophers as fools.
Disciplines where one does not usually see competing schools of thought tend to be the hard sciences, though physicists often argue about string theory versus quantum mechanics versus special relativity. The arts and humanities, such as literature, psychology and linguistics often have differing and opposing views, but, at the end of the day their differences aren't of the same sort of soteriological (saving) or eschatological (end of the world) significance as philosophers and theologians tend to think of their differences.
Often times, when a person decides one school of intellectual thought is right for her, she normally decides so on the basis of what she is used to, what seems most rational or simple to her, or what seems to validate her experience. The mystic is less likely to embrace a purely rationalistic theology than he is an ascetically oriented one, and the existentially curious reader will be more likely to read Sartre than Jane Austen.
Of course, as mentioned before, there is also a great deal of psychological manipulation that influences our decision in intellectual matters as well. Someone raised in a staunch, conservative Baptist household is probably not going to give much credence to the radical Catholic theology of Michael Baxter. On the other hand, a student raised to value empiricism and scientific methodology is more likely to respect Thomas Watson and Albert Einstein as intellectual authorities than he is to respect Jerry Falwell or Billy Graham.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Chaos, Anarchy, and the contemporary world

It occurs to me that the term "Anarchy" has become synonymous with "wrongful disorder." It is seen not as simple disorder, the result of which can be something grand such as the American Revolution (certainly disorder) or struggles for civil rights. Rather, "Anarchy" is viewed as being inherently pernicious--it has been given an ontological polemical attribute. Other words that have such distinction are "defamation," "murder," and "robbery"--words which, as part of their definition, imply that they are wrong.
It is my contention, however, that 1) anarchy is not inherently wrong 2) what we often mean by "Anarchy" is "chaos," 3) this polemical label is, in large part, a product of our modern age and 4) finally, I would like to explain why anarchy might not be too bad.
What I would like to clarify first is what "Anarchy" means. A common definition is "lack of government" or rather "lack of order." This latter definition is certainly false. It is easy to understand "Anarchy" as lack of order since the prefix "a" in Greek often means "no" (such as Atheist, and Apathy) and "arch" often means "government" (monARCH, oligARCH). I would like to note, however that "arch" does not mean "crat" (theoCRAT, demoCRAT, aristoCRAT), which rightly means "ruling." Anarchy does not imply no ruling feature or sensibility, rather it means no central body determining what one does. In its purest form, anarchy means what democracy tries to mean, that is the people decide. In its most adulterated form, it means something like chaos.
Before I get to that part, however, let me first explain the position of a right-minded anarchist. The pure anarchist is not a deviant bent on the destruction of all society and culture. Early anarchists were often affiliated with Marxism, though not all have been. Essentially, the anarchist feels that the government is more interested in self-preservation and self-furthering than it is with the people. It follows the mantra "power corrupts" and the pure anarchist understands why Communism failed in the Soviet Union--because the party forgot the people it had originally promised to save. In this way, the anarchist is often more of a realist. He knows that campaign promises are idle talk and that as much as politicians discuss how to help the poor, they deliberate twice as much about increasing their own salaries and spend countless hours on the road fund-raising in order to maintain their position of prominence. In this way, many Americans today would agree with the original position of the anarchist, however, they disagree where the anarchist decides that having no government to lord over the people is better. This will be addressed more later on.
We often think of anarchy as "chaos" because we understand government as bringing about order. When we think "Anarchy" we think of a number of scenarios 1) the lawlessness of the French Revolution (or even the Soviet Revolution), 2) primeval tribal warfare and 3) post-apocalyptic social Darwinism. If we look at these three examples, we'll see why what we mean is chaos and not really anarchy. In example one, we need to realize that though, technically, revolution is a state of anarchy (because there is, quite literally, no one governing), it is only a transitional state. In the example of the French Revolution, the most gruesome and ghastliest part of the Revolution was the Reign of Terror, which was not anarchy in the least, but rather tyranny. In the second example, we ought to realize that establishing one's society is not really anarchy, and that tribal warfare has not really gone away. Rather, instead of killing a few men with bows and arrows, our advanced government has given us the ability to kill hundreds of thousands at an instant, which leads us to the third case. This, once again, is the crow magnon sense of anarchy. People inevitably in science-fiction, resort to forming tribes once again and the struggle to survive is only a primordial drive (that we still have today). In the first situation, what we fear is that the wrong people will seize power, so we wish to hold on to a government which we have a sort of control over (however Democracy should not be considered to be infallible, as the National Socialist Party was popularly elected in Germany). In the last two examples, what we are afraid of is a lack of resources necessary for survival. In a very real way, this is what a lot of human drama is still about today and people are shot on the streets of Boston, New York and Los Angeles everyday for resources. What we are really afraid of is the utter chaos of the Reign of Terror and the utter chaos of instability of resources.
Now, it must be understood that anarchy has been feared for literally thousands of years. One only needs to read the Book of Judges in the Bible, which most scholars date to pre-exilic Israel (around 800 BC), wherein the lack of a governing body ultimately resorts to the lawlessness of a community gang raping a man's wife, and the resulting near-genocide of the tribe of Benjamin (Judges 19-21). However, though society has had this polemic against lack of governance, it must also be remembered that the rest of the Old Testament (TeNaK) warns against the abuse of power of kings.
The modern polemic against anarchy, as near as I can tell, begins with the writings of Hobbes, realistically. Thomas Hobbes wrote that people were inherently evil and needed government to protect them from themselves. This thought has been very influential in political science. Even his contemporary, John Locke, who took a much more moderate and optimistic approach, stated that though people were probably good, government was meant to serve the people. What is often forgotten, however, is that he also advocated revolution when the government fails (a very influential position for the Founding Fathers). Since Hobbes and Locke, governments have attained enough power to incur the nationalism that created the First World War, per Hobbes, and have been subject to many coups and revolutions, per Locke. In America, however, the note has been Nationalism since early on. Even when many states sought to reassert their own power in the War of Northern Aggression, the Union was reunited with the result of even greater governmental authority as well as the beneficial result of the end of chattel slavery. During the World Wars and the Cold War Era, patriotism was of utmost importance, and loyalty to the government we have was absolutely demanded. Even as the situation became more acceptable to be critical of the government, we had the events of September 11, 2001, which brought back the need for a strong national ethos. So it has been that ever since the late 1860s dissent has not been an acceptable option in this country.
Part of this has been the very propaganda spread by our own government, and much of this has been reinforced by national emergencies. Worrying about the invasion of the Japanese, the Russians or the Terrorists brings with it a certain amount of need for security, found in our government. Here Hobbes and Locke are proven right, and their position of anti-anarchy is only more strengthened. Being "unAmerican" has at times (possibly even today) been tantamount to being a cannibal or a Satanist.
Furthermore, the image of anarchists has been tainted by the counter-culturalists. The Sex Pistols' song "Anarchy in the U.K." became, for years, the anthem by which "punks" and other subversive, non-conformists rallied under. The chant "Anarchy" has been lifted high in punk concerts and other events which the more established and sophisticated of the populace see as pernicious and uncouth. Thus, since the 1970s, the very notion of anarchy has been taken up by those who incur a negative reaction from much of the population while at the same time being demonized by Cold War Era nationalism.
Finally, I would like to make my claim for the virtues (if I might be so bold) to be found in anarchy. Some of my favorite anarchists include Dorothy Day, Ammon Hennacy, and Daniel Berrigan. All of these people have been involved in the Catholic Worker Movement, a movement which seeks to eliminate poverty, sees the inherent worth of people, and stands against violence. None of these people ought to be considered the antichrist. I would argue the contrary. Dorothy Day was one of the founders of the movement and many have called for her canonization since she died in 1985. Ammon Hennacy, though he left the Church, picketed with the migrant workers in the 60s, often worked manual labor, put his two daughters through college, and took care of many of the poor in Salt Lake City for ten years. Daniel Berrigan, though most controversial, was a priest, and worked hard to fight war (often at the cost of damaging property) as well as set up his fair share of Houses of Hospitality. All of these people were for order, all of them were for discipline, but none of them were for the abuses that they saw the government bringing.
Additionally, looking at a few things government has done for us is in part helpful. With the exception of World War II, none of the major wars we have been involved in over the last 100 years have been necessary. We lost Vietnam, we're still in Afghanistan, we defended Saddam Hussein then ten years later deposed him and were involved in a war only about national pride (World War I). Additionally, even though health care has recently been re-evaluated, there is still no "public option." Roads are in disrepair and families are starving while congress men and women have multiple homes. People who are normally friends get in heated, and sometimes friendship damaging, arguments about why one thinks the president is doing a good job but the other disagrees. Politicians spend time that could be used to combat real issues campaigning. Congress itself votes along party lines, not on conscience lines, effectively creating a veritable deadlock. Since the development of Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles, and especially both our and the Soviet Union's stockpiling of them, we now have to face the very real threat that we could all very well die at a moment's notice. Tax cuts to the rich ensure that they get richer while the Middle Class and the poor have to bear the brunt of that burden.
Now try to imagine a world of anarchy. Without inserting the notion of chaos let me define: You will live according to your conscience, and you will do what's in your best interest. We often think that government dictates our morality, but the truth is that it does not. The rules that we agree with, we follow. If speed limits were an issue of morality (which they are, in reality), we would be a lot more hesitant to speed. The real place we get our morality is from those we most closely associate with--our parents, church leaders, other relatives and friends. If we break the law, it is likely because "we hang out with the wrong friends." If we are polite drivers, it is likely because our parents or teachers taught us to be polite. If we take care of the poor, it might be because a sermon had a great influence on us.
Government, in reality, does two things: 1) it enforces a certain brand of morality through the law and 2) it trivializes morality by making it an issue of punishment. Without government, we would not have these. In the first place, our idea of morality would be different. We wouldn't think that allowing people from a certain region come move near us because of opportunity constituted a grave injustice, nor would we think that taking care of the poor and elderly is solved by our paying taxes. We would have to come to grips with a new, more pure, brand of morality--one that transcends the legalism of politics. Secondly, we would have to follow morality for new reasons. We would not shoplift, not because we are afraid of being caught and being arrested but because we feel inherently it is wrong, or that we would not like that to happen to us, or that God would not like it. The speed we would drive would not be determined by our sense of whether we could avoid being pulled over, but rather by what we thought was safe. In short, we would live morally because we found some greater reason in doing it (whether it is religious, deontological, happiness or fairness).
For a more practical example, let us examine murder. It is easy to say that without government, everyone would go about killing other people. To begin with, this happens already. Furthermore, one of the excuses for using the death penalty is that it has deterrent force. Were this the case, after the first or second, or even third person was killed for murder, there would be no more executions. Unfortunately, the truth is that we still do execute people, that people still do commit murder. Death Penalty is no more of a deterrent than is life in prison. On top of this, people don't kill others for the same reason they don't violate all sorts of other moral codes. Either they think life itself is sacred, or they are afraid that someone will take vengeance, or they fear the judgment of God, or they just think that it's wrong. Government does not determine right or wrong, it simply determines legal and illegal.
To conclude, in a world of legalism and government, right is determined by numbers. We win a war if we lose fewer people than we need to. We adjust laws if a certain amount of people die. Our lives are merely a number that has no real significance by itself. In an anarchistic society, persons can truly be appreciated for who they are. We follow the Golden Rule. We adhere to Natural Law. We take care of people for who they are AND we don't have to worry about the threat of nuclear devastation or of paying the salaries of people whose concerns are not our own.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Veritas Invenere

I apologize, first off, for my long absence. The last few months have been fairly hectic, and what with writing papers, organizing club stuff, being an RA and applying to grad schools, I haven't put much effort into keeping this up.
I came back into Vernal yesterday. And while I'm not going to comment on Vernal right now, on the three hour car ride home, I had a lot of time to think about whatever it is that I wanted to contemplate. I utilized the ride to think about why it is that there are so many differing belief sets in the world.
It occurs to me that there must be a certain appeal to any given philosophy or faith. There must be some aspect of it that attracts men and women to it. I feel, then, that any given practice of beliefs must have some truth within it. I believe, as Socrates, that humans can recognize certain truths. This, of course, would be why there are similar beliefs in remote parts of the world--similar in how they conduct themselves and even, to a certain extent, what they believe about our final ends and the governing powers of the universe.
However, we observe that there are also a great deal of differences between the various beliefs. I would submit that this is because, as Aquinas says, it is possible to come to a fullness of truth, but not everyone could come to the truth, and it would only be done by long and arduous labor. So, often, when someone comes upon some great truth, he synthesizes doctrines based on this, though often erroneously.
Of course, these sets of beliefs get propagated because man eventually feels the compulsion to find the truth. As Blaise Pascal said, every man, eventually, comes to the realization that death is coming hurtling at him. When we come to grips with our temporality, we realize seek to find some kind of reason for our being. So often, men turn to philosophies or faiths, especially those wherein they see a truth that they recognize.
But it cannot be the case that every single philosophy or religion is right. So many of them openly contradict each other, that it would be utterly incomprehensible to have a pantheistic or panphilosophic attitude. So the task lies on us to figure out which ones we can embrace and which ones to reject.
Of course, with the differing doctrines within each one, it is impossible to take a look from any perspective of the schools of thought to examine what we should do. Plato thought we should seek to live virtuous lives. Luther taught that we are saved through our faith by Grace, and that our works cannot achieve heaven for us. Hedonists and Nihilists claim that nothing we do has any moral or eternal bearing. If we are already attached to one thought, we cannot fairly judge any other school.
So I will not lie and say my opinion is unbiased. But I will try to demonstrate what I think the correct answer is and why. If the Hedonists, Nihilsts, and even some of the Existentialists are right, then we have no moral obligation to anythin. However, this is not the case, because it is obvious through the ways that societies work that at some level, we have a moral obligation to fulfill. If Locke and Hobbes, and for that matter Caesar and all the current talk show hosts, are right, then our moral obligation is only to the state, and that is wherein our salvation lies. However, this cannot either be the case, since states rise and fall all the time, and oftne men outlive their own body politic (read: in a relatively recent example, East and West Germany, the Soviet Union, etc). So it must be to some greater force, for some greater good. If we follow Luther, then salvation requires faith. My biggest problem with this doctrine is not that we are saved through Grace, but rather that our faith is necessary. This seem ridiculous when there are people in parts of the world who have no access to the Gospel, nor did our ancestors if we go back far enough. Thus, salvation excludes a significant portion of the population, and Grace doesn't really seem like Grace.
So, I find myself taking on a more Platonic ideal. I will not say that we need to try to embrace every single virtue in either a Socratic or Aristotelian method, but we do need to live our lives with a sense of what it is to be a good person. Righteous living is the key to our salvation. Even Vatican II made provisions for the "virtuous pagan" an idea that suggests that morality is actually universal, though faith in Christ Jesus is not.
So, I think that whether or not we devote our entire lives to honoring God is irrelevent, but living our entire lives as if we were serving Him or His children is absolutely relevent. Our salvation lies not in how many times we pray, nor in how often we attend church, but it absolutely depends on how we see our brothers and sisters and how we honor the light of God within them.