Saturday, 4 November 2023

Doing Your Own Research

 I admit that sometimes my essays have become a little loose. Rather than write a post on one theme I have for a while often tried to discuss a number of different topics in a single post, an aesthetic defect. This post will perhaps be like that. There are a number of different thoughts that have occurred to me since my last post and I wish to present these thoughts, niggles, even though there may not be a common theme. If there is a theme, it concerns the way we make sense of the world based on what is reported in the media and what information we can find on the Internet. Of course, the major event that has occurred since my last post is the barbaric attack on Israel by Hamas and Israel's barbaric response and like everyone else I want to venture some opinions on it. I shall discuss the niggles first and the current conflict in the second half of the essay.

The first niggle concerns an error that I might have made myself. A theme of the previous essay was that there are two traditions within philosophy, one constructive and the other destructive. I borrowed the terms Richard Rorty used in Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature to describe them, "systematising" and "therapeutic". In the essay, I argued that Postmodernism, a destructive form of philosophy, had perished and the systematising tradition was again in vogue. I did qualify this statement by saying that I hadn't surveyed every philosophy department in the anglophone world but nevertheless this theme ran through the essay. I have realised, of course, that this view runs counter to the perception of American universities that the right-wing media and Bill Maher, for instance, often present. These cultural commentators often describe universities, usually in the past Berkeley but in the last couple of weeks Harvard as well, as indoctrinating their students in woke Postmodernism. I suspect that the truth is far more complex. In English departments, a lecturer will usually have completed his or her Doctorate on one particular author and will then go on to teach that author although he or she may subsequently pick up other topics. This is probably true of Philosophy lecturers as well– they are all specialists. It may be that general courses giving overviews of whole fields are not taught. This makes it difficult to determine if there is a prevailing paradigm within philosophy at the moment and what it is. 

A second niggle. One of my concerns, as may be apparent, is with the proper use of the English language. Something that I've noticed recently is a small change many speakers, such as CNN presenters and even BBC presenters, have introduced into their speech. They say things like, "How barbaric of an attack by Hamas on Israeli civilians." What is the preposition "of" doing in this sentence? You should simply say "barbaric an attack". This peculiar innovation in grammar started in America and seems to have spread to Britain. I have, however, not noticed any New Zealanders I know introducing an extraneous "of" into their conversation between the adjective and the article. I dislike this recent sloppiness. I know that language changes all the time but it is the moral duty of anyone interested in clear communication to try to hold change back. The pedants are the preservers of the English language. In a wonderful essay called "Authority and American Usage", David Foster Wallace defends prescriptivism over descriptivism when it comes to the meaning and use of words, an essay which I think has profound philosophical implications. It is important to try to stick to the rules. So I think if anyone out there is so sufficiently impressed by the talking heads that they think it grammatically correct to insert the preposition "of" into such sentences, I want you to know that the presenters are getting it wrong. 

A third niggle. For many years I have noticed how often talking heads in particular use (and abuse) the term "deconstruct" and for many years this has really bothered me. I've wanted to talk about this for a long time. The word "deconstruct" was coined by Jacque Derrida in 1967 in the book Of Grammatology. Derrida argued that texts (and philosophical arguments) are built around binary oppositions in which one term has priority over the other: for example Plato set up a binary between spoken speech and writing and argued that writing is pernicious because it is detrimental to memory. This implies that "oral speech" is better than (prior to) "writing". Deconstruction involves inverting the binaries in a text or argument and then showing how the two terms cannot exist without each other. Derrida himself performed this operation on Plato. I think deconstruction is a really useful interpretive strategy and I myself deconstructed Neil Gaiman's comic book A Game of You in several posts way back in 2017. I do not now think Derrida's underlying theory is correct though – Derrida draws inspiration from Saussure and I am unsure if language is a system of differences as Saussure claims. There is a great mystery associated with the nature of concepts (signifieds) because although words are consciously available to us, the concepts associated with particular words are not really accessible. To expatiate on this would take me to far afield. My main point is that since 1967, deconstruction entered the English language through Humanities departments. It took on a vaguer meaning: to deconstruct a text meant to show it had meanings other than the ones intended by the author. Nowadays people use the word "deconstruct" simply as a synonym for "analyse" or "critique". I know I'm being pedantic again but it bothers me when people use words that they don't understand.

The fourth niggle also involves language. I really dislike the relatively recent overuse of the word "impact". American journalists often ask questions like, "How did this impact you?" and CNN has a site called "Impact Your World", a title that strikes me as gibberish. Most of the time you can simply replace the word "impact" with "affect" and not only does the sentence have the same meaning, it doesn't conjure up connotations of people as cars caroming off each other. Even worse is the recent adoption of the incredibly ugly word "impactful", an example of the way Americans are constantly turning nouns into verbs and verbs into adjectives.

The niggles I have discussed are general ones involving language but I also get annoyed when supposed experts make stupid mistakes. I occasionally watch Lawrence Krauss's podcast on Youtube. Krauss has taught physics at several universities, including Yale, knew Richard Feynman and considers himself a friend of Noam Chomsky. It is tempting to regard him as an expert. He often interviews really interesting people but has an irritating way of talking constantly about himself rather than letting the guest talk. Recently I saw an interview he did with Robert Sapolsky who I thought was really interesting – I have ordered Sapolsky's book Determined from my local bookshop. But during the interview Krauss made a stupid mistake. He said the Second Law of Thermodynamics is absolute, inviolable, that the entropy of a macroscopic system can never decrease. This is wrong. I know my suggesting Krauss said something really may seem an extreme claim but let me explain.

Suppose you have a box separated by a membrane into two compartments, with all the gas on one side of the membrane. You then pierce or otherwise remove the membrane. The gas will then almost certainly expand to fill the box more or less evenly. This is the Second Law in action – but note that I said "almost certainly". All the gas molecules are moving around randomly and so could theoretically all end up again in one half of the box if only briefly, although the probability of this occurring is miniscule. Now consider another thought experiment. The box, sans membrane, now only contains one gas molecule. The probability of it ending up in the right side of the box is 1/2. If there are two molecules the probability of them both being in the right side of the box at some specific time is 1/4 (the probability of them both ending up up in the right side of the box at any time at all would of course be much higher). Suppose the box is 1 metre cubed – at normal atmospheric pressure, the number of molecules in the box would be around 10 to the 23rd power (if the Internet has it right). The probability that all the gas molecules would at some specific time be all in the right side is 1/2 to the power of 10 itself raised to the 23rd power. If this did occur, it would be a massive apparent violation of the Second Law but it is possible. Admittedly the probability of such an event occurring is so small it is tempting to say it is impossible – but it is not absolutely impossible. The Second Law is a statistical law rather than a hard law. It simply says that entropy in macroscopic systems overwhelmingly tends to stay the same or increase, not that it can never decrease.

Although I am discussing niggles, there is an interesting aspect of thermodynamics that I think worth pursuing, worth a digression, an aspect that straddles the borderline between physics and philosophy. In the above example, we considered two possible macrostates: the first being when the gas is all in in the right side of the box and the second being when the gas is evenly distributed throughout the box. For each of these two macrostates, there are a vast number of microstates, a microstate being an exact description of where each molecule is and its momentum. It is because there are vastly more possible microstates associated with the second macrostate than the first and because we can assume each microstate is equally probable that the second macrostate is the one that will come to dominate. However the issue here is that I do not think there is any clear definition of the term 'macrostate'. Thermodynamics was invented in the nineteenth century and originally concerned gases (and such gaseous concepts as pressure, temperature, and volume) and then heat engines. As time has gone by, there has been a tendency to extend the notion of entropy to everything, to explain the passage of time itself in terms of the Second Law. I have done this myself. Consider however the following question: what is the entropy of an egg? In order to determine the entropy of an egg we would have to count all the possible molecular compositions, microstates, that what we are calling an egg can take while still being an egg. The entropy is simply (assuming that each configuration is equally possible) the logarithm of this number (according to Boltzmann). But you and I might disagree about the definition of this term 'egg' and come up with different numbers (although we might agree that after an egg falls on the floor, the smashed egg has greater entropy than it did when it was intact). Consider now the following little fable. Bob sends Jane a telegram in Morse code that translates as Shelly's Ozymandius but Jane does not know Morse code and consequently puts the message into the conceptual bin "random collection of dots and dashes", a macrostate with very high entropy. Clyde then sees the message and, knowing Morse code, recognises it as Shelly's Ozymandius and assigns it a very low entropy because there is only a single sequence of dots and dashes that can be decoded into this poem. For Jane the macrostate is "random collection of dots and dashes" while for Clyde it is "Ozymandius in Morse code". Jane and Clyde have different notions of the macrostate that the message belongs to and consequently calculate its entropy quite differently; there seems no clear way to establish which of them is correct. It seems that thermodynamics depends on the way human beings conceptualise and categorise physical systems, on human meaning making, a counterintuitive thought. 

The idea that I have just advanced is not wholly original with me but is inspired by something Roger Penrose says in Cycles of Time although he does not explore this idea philosophically. It may be that information theory also approaches this idea, although I suspect not from a philosophical perspective. I should note that I have of necessity oversimplified somewhat. In reality not only is it hard to define a 'macrostate' it is also hard to define a 'microstate' because positions and momenta are continuous rather than discreet and so a gas in a box actually has an infinite number of microstates. To count the microstates involves a kind of 'course-graining'. Still I think it is an interesting thought.

I have another niggle with Lawrence Krauss. In the interview, in a Youtube clip, and probably elsewhere, he has argued that quantum mechanics is deterministic. His argument is that the wave function evolves deterministically. This is true, it does evolve deterministically – but only up until the point when someone performs a measurement. When a measurement is performed, the wave function changes and, according to conventional theory, this change is partly random. Although Krauss concedes that when we perform the measurement, according to conventional theory, the data we collect is somewhat random, he seems to be arguing that measurements lie outside quantum physics. I know I'm not an expert but everything I've read suggests that the measurement problem, or what is sometimes called wave function collapse, has been the central problem in quantum physics for a hundred years. The measurement problem spawned Everything, Everywhere, All At Once and all the recent Marvel films.  It seems that Krauss is capriciously re-demarcating the boundaries of quantum physics in such a way as to put the measurement problem outside it. Perhaps he just doesn't want to think about the measurement problem. Krauss, like another physicist I follow, Sabine Hossenfelder, thinks the universe is deterministic and doesn't believe in free will, but neither has reconciled these prior metaphysical commitments with quantum physics. I myself am a determinist who doesn't believe in free will but my explanation is that some kind of mystical agency or perhaps élan vital determines where an electron ends up on a detector. But, then, perhaps I'm a crank.

This brings me to Sabine. I like her videos. Recently she relayed research that had found that the probability that a coin flipped will land same-side up is actually not quite 50%, a finding based on a study by a group of physicists who tossed a coin thousands of times. This is very relevant to issues to do with probability that I have discussed earlier this year in this blog. But Sabine also makes mistakes. Recently she argued that capitalism and science go together and used the trajectory from the discovery of penicillin to its mass manufacture as evidence of the way capitalism enables science. A number of Youtube videos have shown that the history of penicillin is more complex than Sabine suggests and in the early years involved public funds and state intervention. These clips can be found on Youtube. Another mistake I believe she made recently is that she said that all hidden variable interpretations of quantum physics are local. I do not feel on as firm ground here as I do when criticising Krauss but everything I've read suggests that the DeBroglie-Bohm pilot wave theory is both a hidden variable theory and non-local. Rather than mount an argument against Sabine myself, I refer the reader to the interesting and accessible Youtube video from PBS Spacetime called "Are Many Worlds & Pilot Wave THE SAME theory?", an introduction to the three main interpretations of quantum mechanics which can be understood with only a little background in physics (and a video which also shows how outside the mainstream Krauss is). This is not to say that people should stop watching Sabine but rather that they should take her video essays with a grain of salt as with other Youtube videos.

Readers may wonder if I am qualified to weigh in on quantum mechanics when I specialised originally in English literature. In 2005 I did a paper in second year physics and didn't get particularly good grades. However for a period of many years after I would read and re-read my physics textbook every night, particularly the chapters on quantum physics, in bed before going to sleep. Eventually the textbook fell apart. It reached the point where I had the chapters on quantum physics memorised and would go through them in my mind at night while lying in bed. I also often used to read popular expositions on physics such as the book by Penrose I mentioned above. Nowadays I am addicted to educational videos on Youtube as readers of this blog may have noticed. I may not be alone. There may be many autodidacts in the world who are constantly absorbing new information from Youtube and other online sites such as Wikipedia and the Stanford Encyclopaedia of the Philosophy. This is partly a good thing because knowledge is now increasingly accessible to anyone who can afford a computer and Internet connection, although it also threatens universities who have traditionally been the repositories and guardians of knowledge. Another downside is that there are so many people expressing views online that it can be hard arrive at the truth about matters. If you only watch the Darkhorse podcast and associated sites you may end up with a skewed view of the Covid vaccine, for instance. This may lead people to think that Youtube and other sites should somehow filter their content so that only verifiable truth floats to the top. The problem with such censorship is that it could lead people to think that contemporary views about matters such as, for instance, psychiatric disorders are correct when they simply aren't. The best approach is for viewers and readers to think critically about what they are digesting and to try to get their information from a wide variety of sources. This may not be a fully satisfactory solution. For instance, I often feel reading Wikipedia that it is authoritative and reliable but over the years have noticed a number of occasions when it has just been plain wrong.

I have been discussing niggling annoyances with the way language today is used in the media and the way 'truth' is presented on Youtube. I have just suggested that so long as you read widely and think critically a person can arrive at some reasonable understanding of the world. It is possible today for a person to 'do his own research' and have as good an understanding of a subject as a person who is recognised as an expert. For instance, although I rarely use Google Scholar, it is possible for a layperson to access a great deal of academic literature, the same literature read by the professorial class. In saying this I know I am running against the received wisdom of many, particularly on the Left, that we should 'trust the experts' and not venture opinions on subjects we lack first hand experience of or have done a doctorate on. This view of course emerged because of the Covid epidemic. There is an interesting issue here. The 'argument from authority' is considered a fallacy but we are encouraged to just accept everything experts say because somehow they have got themselves into positions where they can be regarded as experts. For instance, there is strong social pressure to regard psychiatrists as experts, something that can have highly deleterious effects on patients. In fact, many psychiatrists are incompetent and the whole of psychiatry is founded on false premises. One of the reasons for my recovery from the 'illness' I suffered was that I rejected the power psychiatrists have had over me. The people who experience mental illness are the real experts on their mental illnesses, not the doctors who treat them; certainly, I understand the mental illness I suffered better than the psychiatrist who currently treats me.

The notion of expertise is relevant to the academic teaching of philosophy. Sometimes famous philosophers have made arguments that just make no sense. For example, the modal argument for the existence of God, proposed by Alvin Plantinga, just doesn't work as I pointed out in the post "The Modal Ontological Argument". When the Sleeping Beauty problem was first publicly proposed by Adam Elgar, he defended the 'halver' position with an argument that is incoherent and relies on a confused notion of probability as I showed in the post "Time, Probability and Bad Science Part 2". It is not that I have opinions different from Plantinga and Elgar but rather that their arguments just don't make logical sense. The issue here is that Plantinga and Elgar are famous philosophers, supposed experts, and so students may not realise that they have been presented with dumb arguments. I sometimes wonder if philosophy lecturers deliberately teach bad philosophy to test the critical faculties of their students, to see if the students can spot the errors. 

The theme that is emerging from this essay is the difficulty we have sifting truth from error on issues that have become part of the global conversation. On October 7, Hamas launched a terrorist attack on Israel that claimed 1400 Israeli lives, and took hostage around 220 people. Israel responded by sealing off the Gaza Strip so that food, water, medicine, and electricity couldn't get in, launched an aerial bombardment ostensibly intended to destroy Hamas militia but which has destroyed much of the civilian infrastructure, and has just over the last two or three days initiated a land invasion. Over nine thousand Palestinians in Gaza have been killed so far, at the time of writing, and, according to Defence for Children International, as of two days ago, over 40% of them are children. Since the invasion I have been compulsively watching CNN, BBC, and Al Jazeera. (I don't watch Fox.) Although I already had a little knowledge of the history of Israel and Palestine, my knowledge was very incomplete; I have since read a few articles on Wikipedia about the history and sought out online article and some Youtube videos concerning the conflict. One channel I have found on Youtube that is thoughtful and informative is the New York Times Podcast, which has involved Tom Friedman and Ezra Klein. Klein and Friedman are left-wing Jewish journalists based in New York who, while recognising the horrific nature of the attack by Hamas, also acknowledge the history of Palestinian oppression and dispossession and support a two-state solution. I recommend this channel. I would like to say something about the current conflict myself. I know I am not an expert and that this is a highly charged topic, that it may be risky to talk about it at all. Two or three days ago I read that a National Party MP here in New Zealand had got in trouble with our new Prime Minister for saying something about the conflict in a private email. But the Internet is awash with people expressing opinions and I feel that it might be important for me to say something.

In the previous essay, written before October 7, I discussed rationality and irrationality. When a catastrophe occurs, we all seek to find a 'rational' explanation: religious people sometimes even blame natural disasters on social changes they consider sinful. Similarly we look for a rational explanation for what happened in Israel and is happening in Gaza. We might assume that the leaders of Hamas had rational motives. But if the leaders of Hamas were rational, they must have realised that their attack would trigger this enormous Israeli response. The initial event that led to the 2014 Gaza war in which over 2,125 Gazans were killed and nearly 11,000 wounded was the kidnapping and murder of three Israeli teenagers; what happened on October 7 was orders of magnitudes worse. So if we assume that the leaders of Hamas were rational, in a very real sense we can hold Hamas responsible not only for the Israeli casualties but also for the killing, injuring and suffering of Palestinians in Gaza since October 7 because the leaders of Hamas should have anticipated how Israel would react. Because we look for rational motives, many commentators, including Friedman, have claimed, without real evidence, that Hamas launched the attack because Israel was negotiating a normalisation agreement with Egypt. It has been argued that Hamas, feeling that Palestinians were being abandoned by their traditional allies. sought to deliberately provoke a war in order to garner sympathy from the citizenry of other Muslim countries and trigger a wider war in the Middle East. This is similar to the argument often advanced that Al Qaeda carried out the 9/11 attacks in order to provoke a war between the West and the Muslim world. Such arguments assume that Hamas was behaving rationally but I do not think this is the case. It is likely that the militants who broke through the wall and rampaged through Southern Israel were driven by religious and nationalistic fanaticism and a hatred of Israelis, motivations that seem irrational to liberal Westerners because we tend to believe that rationality involves self-interest or disinterested consequentialism. Perhaps the militants thought God was on their side. In the episode "The Jewish Left is Trying to Hold Two Thoughts at Once", Klein and his fellow contributors go further, suggesting that the barbarity of the attack may not even have been intended by the Hamas leadership, that the militants who broke through, not realising it would be so easy to get past the fence into Israel, ran amok. It is possible that the primary aim of the Hamas leadership was not geopolitical as Friedman and others have suggested but simply to take hostages hoping for a prisoner swap. In fact, a week ago, Hamas offered to release all the hostages in return for the release of all Palestinians in Israeli prisons, an offer that the Israeli government rejected. Many of the Israeli casualties were at a music festival and so one might conclude that Hamas carried out the attack because they knew the festival was being held that day. But the fact that the attack occurred almost exactly on the 50th anniversary of the Yom Kippur war strongly suggests that this was the reason for the timing. That the festival was being held on the same day and therefore the attack so horrific might have been a terrible coincidence.

Although I have said that Hamas can in a very real sense be held responsible not only for the Israeli massacre but the deaths and suffering of Palestinians in Gaza since, in another very real sense very many people are responsible for it because very many people are complicit in creating the conditions in Gaza that inspired such hatred. It has been widely reported that Benjamin Netanyahu had an unofficial policy of deliberately bolstering Hamas because by creating disunity among Palestinians he hoped to make the dream of a Palestinian state an impossibility. Gaza has been under a blockade for sixteen years. The building of Jewish settler communities in the West Bank similarly was a deeply immoral project to pursue. There has been a lack of sympathy with the plight of ordinary Palestinians and the hatred of Palestinians by some commentators inside and outside Israel upsets me. Sam Harris has based his support for Israel on the fact that Hamas has the stated goal of eliminating Israel but a poll of Palestinians in Gaza carried out just before October 7, as reported by CNN, found that over half supported either a two-state solution or a single state in which Jews and Arabs had equal citizenship. (I note here that although this was reported on CNN, I have had difficulty finding the poll on the Internet. I also note, for the sake of balance, that the poll suggests a sizeable portion of the Gazan population does indeed support Hamas.) Bill Maher said recently that we should support Israel unconditionally because Israel shares Western values, such as endorsing LGBT rights and women's rights. This is a weak argument. I suspect that Maher is a kind of consequentialist like Sam Harris and should thus believe, as Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill did, that we should try to aim for the greatest happiness of the greatest number. If this is true, the values people hold are either irrelevant or only indirectly relevant. There is a related point. Although the bulk of Israel's population is liberal, there is a segment of right-wing ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel, a group excluded from military service for religious reasons, and it is this segment that drives the growth of settler villages in the West Bank and got the most right-wing government in Israel's history elected. There is a sentiment among this group that Israel should extend from the River Jordan to the sea because it was the land promised to them by God. In 1993, after the Oslo accord, some move towards a two-state solution seemed possible but the process was stymied partly by an attack on a Hebron mosque by an American Jewish settler and by the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in 1995 by an Israeli settler who opposed the two-state solution. Harris and Maher are both vehemently anti-religious but are guilty of inconsistency because they both fail to call out Jewish religious extremism. Furthermore Harris and Maher are critical of Identity Politics but fail to see how coloured by Identity Politics their views on Israel and Palestine are. 

Something else I've noticed is that even when commentators concede that the establishment of some kind of Palestinian state might be just, they argue that the tactics that have been employed by Palestinian groups, such as for instance attempting to fire rockets into Israel, disqualify them from being morally defensible agents. They argue that if the Palestinians were engaging in non-violent resistance the way Indians under Gandhi did or the way civil rights protestors did in the Unites States in the 1950s and 1960s, the world would have more sympathy for them. An important early moment in the civil rights movement was when Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat in 1955 and another important event was, of course, the March on Washington led by Martin Luther King Jr in 1963. The question I want to raise is this: what forms of non-violent resistance were available to Palestinians? 20 per cent of Israelis are Arabs and can carry out strikes and marches but the Palestinians in Gaza can't somehow cross the perimeter fence and mount a peaceful march on Jerusalem waving banners and placards and calling for the Israeli government to enable them to form a Palestinian state. They are walled in. In the podcast by Ezra Klein, one of the contributors points out that Palestinian leaders who have sought to change the political situation through nonviolent protest and civil disobedience tend to be jailed. In 2018 and 2019, thousands of Gaza Palestinians would gather just inside the perimeter wall to protest on Fridays and sometimes on other days. a movement called the "Great March of Return". They were not calling for the destruction of Israel but rather for a lifting of the blockade and the right to return to lands seized from their forebears in 1947 and 1967. Although sometimes Palestinians would burn tyres, attempt to damage the fence, throw stones and Molotov cocktails, and send incendiary kites into Israel (kites that caused scrub fires but didn't threaten any Israeli lives), the protests were mainly peaceful. The Israeli military would gather on the other side of the fence and snipers would fire on the Palestinians through the gaps. According to the United Nations site "The Question of Palestine" one Israeli soldier was killed and seven injured during the protests. 214 Palestinians were killed, 46 of them children, and 36,100 were injured. Many of the injured required amputations. Yes, 214 Palestinian lives is quantitatively less than 1400 Israeli lives but it is still terrible and there should still have been a global outcry at the Israeli crackdown on this protest but, unlike what happened on October 7 this year, it was hardly covered by the media. Bill Maher recently said that he thinks part of the definition of the word 'liberal' involves support for Israel, but I think this is stupid: part of the accepted definition of 'liberal' involves the idea of universal human rights including the right to peaceably protest. Although the "Great March of Return" was not completely nonviolent, to crackdown on a mostly peaceful protest using lethal force is monstrously illiberal.

To be successful, nonviolent protest needs people sympathetic to it in the oppressor group and in other countries. One reason the US civil rights movement was successful is that African Americans had friends and allies who were white and a major reason the Apartheid regime in South Africa was dismantled in 1994 was the international pressure brought on the South African government to abandon this racist system. A very important event in New Zealand history is the 1981 Springbok tour when tens of thousands of New Zealanders protesting against Apartheid disrupted a number of matches between the All Blacks and the visiting South African rugby team; the tour had been permitted by the then government, under Robert Muldoon, even though there was an international boycott on South African sports games. However there has never been any effective organised internal or international pressure on the Israeli government to try to resolve the Palestinian question. This is discussed in the Ezra Klein podcast mentioned earlier. Since around 2001, there has been an international movement known as Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions which has tried to exert some pressure on the Israeli government and although a number of famous academics and artists have signed on, BDS has never become massively popular, I think at least partly because it has successfully been misrepresented as antisemitic by Israel. Incredibly, Israel actually has a law that allows people in other countries to be sued civilly if they call for a boycott of Israel. In 2018, two New Zealanders, one ethnically Jewish and the other ethnically Palestinian, wrote an open letter to Lorde urging her to cancel her Tel Aviv concert because of Israel's treatment of the Palestinians; Lorde thought about it, read up about it, and decided to cancel the performance. Subsequently the authors of the letter were sued by two Israeli teenagers in Israel claiming that the cancellation caused them mental distress, and fined 19,000 New Zealand dollars. Of course, the idea that two New Zealanders could be fined by an Israeli court for an opinion expressed in New Zealand is absurd and the fine was never paid. I did not pay close attention to this controversy at the time but I think I recall seeing that a New York rabbi had written a piece for a New York newspaper suggesting that Lorde's decision showed how antisemitism was growing among the youth. The fact that criticism of Israeli policies is often conflated with antisemitism means that we live in a world in which it seems that the only people permitted to criticise Israel are Jews like, for instance, Tom Friedman, Sam Seder, and Noam Chomsky.

In discussing the current war in Gaza, in trying to make sense of the ethics involved, it may seem that I have contradicted myself. I have said that in a very real sense Hamas can be held responsible not only for the events of October 7 but also for the subsequent death and misery in Gaza. I have also argued that Palestinian grievances against Israel are justified, have argued for a kind of collective responsibility because very many people inside and outside of Israel have been complicit in creating the conditions that impelled Hamas to launch its attack. The issue here is that the term 'responsibility' is hard to pin down, as implied in the previous essay. However, in presenting the Palestinian case so strongly, I am partly reacting to some of the rhetoric of people I follow. Bill Maher often says that people who criticise Israeli policy don't know their history. This is because in Bill Maher's mind the history of Israel has been one in which the Arab countries and Palestinians have always sought to wipe Israel off the map, have mounted multiple wars to do so, and have been successfully repelled every time. The truth though is more complex. The principle cause of the 1967 Six Day War was Egypt's decision to close the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping and it was Israel who made the first military move. During the war Israel captured a number of territories including Gaza and the Sinai peninsula. Egypt's aim in initiating the Yom Kippur war in 1973 was not to destroy Israel but to reclaim the Sinai peninsula. Of course the history is long and complex and I am only picking out details, but, even if the idea that the whole past history of Israel is one in which it has been defending itself against Muslim nations who want to destroy it were true, we live in 2023 now and the world can change. Before October 7 there seemed strong hope of a normalisation of Israeli relations with its neighbours and hopefully the current war shouldn't derail this. It is true that many Middle Eastern countries do not officially recognise Israel but in practice they now know Israel is here to stay. It is possible that if Palestinian aspirations were realised, either through a two-state solution or the formation of a single Israeli-Palestinian state, this would pave the way for formal recognition of Israel by the countries around it.

I can remember an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher from several years ago in which the political situation in Israel and Palestine came up. Maher, of course, defended Israel. A guest asked him "Have you ever been to Gaza?" The Gaza Strip has often been called the largest open air prison in the world and when the UN Secretary General, Antonio Guterres, visited it in 2021, he described it as "Hell on earth". And this was before Israel started dropping bombs on it.

So, what should Israel and other countries be encouraged to do? Israel's stated war aim is to destroy Hamas but this seems to involve the suffering and deaths of many innocent Palestinian civilians including children. A number of American Jewish writers, artists, and academics wrote an open letter to Biden shortly before October 19 that says, in part, "We call on the US government to seek an immediate ceasefire and to use our resources towards providing aid ensuring the safe return of hostages and building a diplomatic path towards peace." I have been struggling in my own mind to work out the moral calculus. It seems that if a large terrorist attack occurs, the country attacked has a right to declare war on the organisation responsible. But by the same kind of logic the government of Israel should also be held responsible for the oppression of Palestinians and the deaths that occurred during, for instance, "The Great March of Return". Israel's right to defend itself should not also be a right to kill children. Perhaps Israel could have invaded without dropping bombs that have not always been well targeted and without cutting off food, fuel, electricity, and medicine from getting into the territory. I worry also about how the IDF will be able to discriminate between Hamas fighters and civilians on the ground during the invasion. Despite such concerns, a ceasefire may not be a realistic possibility. Setting aside such answerable questions, we also need to ask what political situation should obtain in Gaza when the war, perhaps with the surrender of Hamas, finally ends. Some in the Israeli government apparently favour the expulsion of Gaza Palestinians into Egypt, a policy which would be ethnic cleansing by definition, but it seem more likely that there will be another full scale Israeli military occupation. I would like to suggest an alternative, that some kind of UN agency or organisation, some international force that is sympathetic to the Palestinians, should take over the governance of Gaza, as happened in Bosnia. This UN agency would be an interim government that would exist only until a new state can be established.

I have a strong sense that the two-state solution is no longer a live option. However we can pretend for a moment that some perfect solution is imaginable and realisable. In a perfect world I believe a single state containing both Jews and Arabs with equal rights should be created, a state that could be called Israel and Palestine interchangeably the same way New Zealanders sometimes refer to New Zealand as Aotearoa. This is the best end goal and also Chomsky's favoured position. In fact in 1946, when what we now call Israel and Palestine was simply known as Palestine and was ruled by the British, the Anglo-American Committee of Enquiry made the following recommendation regarding it: "in order to dispose, once and for all, of the exclusive claims of Jews and Arabs to Palestine, we regard it as essential that a clear statement of principle should be made that Jew shall not dominate Arab and Arab shall not dominate Jew in Palestine." This recommendation was rejected by the American government under Truman. The idea of a single state in which Jews and Arabs have equal citizenship rights may also seem an impossibility. It frightens some Israelis because it could mean that Jews would become a minority 'in their own country'. To such objections I would point to New Zealand history. Maori have for well over a century been the minority in their own country but they just deal with it. This solution may just too utopian to be practicable but the alternative is no possible solution at all and utter despair.

As I said above, this essay is partly a reaction to the rhetoric of people I follow on Youtube. Today I watched a little of Bill Maher's show, specifically the New Rules segment, in which he reiterated his argument that we should support Israel because it represents Western values. During the segment, he said that Israel had never seized Gaza but of course, as I pointed out above, it did, during the 1967 Six Day War. Sam Harris has a new podcast episode out called "The Infernal Logic of Jihad" which I am reluctant to listen to because I suspect I know his argument in advance. Harris has long maintained that there is something evil in Islam itself, that it is an evil idea that we should resist. He will almost certainly have argued that Islamic ideology is the root cause of the atrocities committed by Hamas on October 7 and will disregard the fact of many decades of Palestinian oppression. (If I have falsely prejudged this episode and thus misrepresented you Sam, I apologise.) A moral problem with this argument is that although Harris has insisted that we should hate Islam rather than Muslims, it is easy to slip from a hatred of Islam to a hatred of Islamists – despite the fact that many Muslims are not fundamentalists and very very few Muslims are terrorists. A logical problem with his argument that Islamic terrorism arises from Islam itself is that the Koran specifically states that Jews and Christians are also "People of the Book" and should be respected and allowed to practice their own religions. The people Mohammed himself sought to conquer and convert were polytheists at a time when polytheism was common in the region. Anti-Jewish sentiment is not a natural part of Islam; it arose in the Middle East during the twentieth century as a result of the establishment of Israel. In the previous essay, "Rationality and Irrationality" I said that a problem with much philosophical argumentation is that it is untethered from reality. Similarly the arguments Maher and Harris make often strike me as empty rhetoric. I encourage fans of Maher and Harris who read this blog to also do their own research. A good place to start is with an essay I found this evening in the London Review of Books called "Ethnic Cleansing in the West Bank".

This essay was written over a number days. It is based on my own research, that is, what I could gather from media outlets and sources online. Sometimes I have cited my sources and when I haven't, you can assume I found it on Wikipedia, so if there are serious mistakes Wikipedia can be blamed. I'll finish the essay by talking about Real Time with Bill Maher. I have watched Maher's show for a number of years because sometimes he says interesting things. But I am going to be critical of him here. Maher is ostensibly a Democrat and obviously intends his show to be a forum in which Republicans and Democrats can debate the important issues. For instance, he conducted a grovelling interview with the detestable Benjamin Netanyahu and recently interviewed Ron DeSantis, an interview I decided not to watch. The problem here is that Maher spends more time attacking the woke left than Republicans. Recently he disparaged higher education on the grounds that he thinks it is controlled by the woke left and another time quite recently blamed overregulation on the woke left. I would recommend that he make his show a true Democrat show by transforming it into a forum in which moderate and progressive Democrats can work towards common policy; at the moment, Real Time with Bill Maher is a gateway drug to Republicanism. I suspect that the main reasons Bill Maher is a Democrat are that he hates religion, likes marijuana, and has gay friends. And he understandably despises Donald Trump. If he were a real Democrat though he would spend more time discussing the real problems America has today, problems those outside it can so plainly see. These problems include over-incarceration, gun reform, and the lack of universal healthcare, the issues that John Oliver, who has more sympathy for the marginalised and oppressed than Maher, often focusses on. An alternative to this would be for Maher to admit he has become more conservative in his old age and come out as Never-Trumper Republican. 

Thursday, 5 October 2023

Rationality and Irrationality

We generally trace Western philosophy back to the ancient Greeks, particularly the writings of Plato and Aristotle, and from Aristotle we get (although he never states this explicitly) one of the first and most influential definitions of the essence of mankind: "man" is "the rational animal". The ideal of rationality has been at the heart of philosophy ever since. Many philosophers have embraced the optimistic conviction that reason can arrive at truth, even concerning issues of morality.  Kant, for instance, argued that ethical principles can be derived from pure reason. Perhaps the most important ethicist of the twentieth century, at least in the Anglo-American tradition, John Rawls, said, "Human rights are not the consequence of a particular philosophy, nor of one way among others of looking at the world. They are not tied to the cultural tradition of the West alone, even if it was within this tradition that they were formulated for the first time. They just follow from the definition of justice." (I am here quoting from a very interesting Youtube clip by Jonas Ceika "The Problem With Human Rights.") In his very important and interesting book Reasons and Persons, the ethicist Derek Parfit uses the term "rational" repeatedly but, annoyingly, never defines it even though it is often crucial to the arguments he is making. The implication seems to be that the term "rational" is just transparent to everyone and so requires no definition. Of course there has always been an intellectual counterculture that has questioned the doctrine that rationality is at the heart of what it means to be human. Hume famously suggested that we cannot derive an 'ought' from an 'is' and, if we take this seriously, it can lead some of us to wonder if any ethical system can have a rational justification at all. Another subversive, although not a philosopher, Sigmund Freud, argued that often our actions arise from unconscious (i.e. irrational) motivations, and a couple of much later psychologists, ones with an entirely different theoretical bent to Freud, Amos Tversy and Daniel Khaneman, became famous for studies that seemed to show that people are often irrational. 

Richard Rorty distinguished between two different types of philosophical endeavour, the constructive and the destructive, or alternatively the systematising and the therapeutic. It is useful, if perhaps a little simplistic, to suggest that the first tradition is united by a faith in human rationality while the second takes a far more cynical view about whether humans are really rational. Famous exemplars of this second tradition include Nietzsche, Wittgenstein in the later part of his career, Derrida, Foucault, and Rorty himself. Naturally we cannot have a destructive form of philosophy without other philosophies to destroy, to critique or deconstruct. If the second tradition won out we might be left with no philosophy at all, and so, arguably, we need both. Another way of characterising these two traditions, the first assuming that humans are rational and that reason can provide a foundation for morality and an understanding of human nature, and the second questioning these assumptions, is to note that the first is, I would suggest, concerned with 'norms' and the second with 'descriptions'. The problem is that philosophers of the first tradition are not always clear as to whether they are proposing norms that people ought to adhere to or descriptions of actual people and actual practices. This problem has been there from the beginning. It is unclear whether Aristotle's definition is descriptive or normative – are all human beings rational all the time or is rationality a potentiality that humans have that other animals lack, a potentiality that humans ought to exercise but might not? This aporia or equivocation seems to me a serious defect in much systematising philosophical discourse. The problem of whether 'rationality' is descriptive of all humans all the time or a norm humans ought to adhere to but might not will be a significant theme of this essay.

In one of my recent posts, "Probability, Time, and Bad Science Part 2" I suggested that Postmodernism, a form of philosophy very much in the destructive tradition, had died a couple of decades ago. Of course I have not surveyed every philosophy department in the world, nor conducted research asking journalists and other influencers what philosophy books they agree with. My impression nevertheless is that the first tradition is once again in vogue, that a new of kind of 'rationality' has become dominant and, having filtered out of academia, colours much of what passes today for popular culture. A new kind of systematising is in vogue as opposed to the therapeutic tradition we associate with Nietzsche. I put the term 'rationality' in inverted commas because, as I will hopefully show, I do not believe it to be genuinely rational at all (although adherents to what I have termed the New Scientism, such as Steven Pinker, may believe that they have a monopoly on rationality). As my readers will know, early last year I embarked on a Masters of Philosophy. I have, perhaps temporarily, dropped out. I'm not going to go into all the reasons for this here but a part of the difficulty I faced is that, now being forty-four, I have settled opinions on a number of subjects. I don't believe in free will. I don't believe in Neo-Darwinism. I suspect that there may be some kind of supernatural dimension to the world but currently don't believe in an afterlife because I can't imagine what it could be like. I don't draw a clear distinction in my mind between philosophy, science, literature, and literary interpretation, a problem because the boundaries between different disciplines is very important in modern academia, even though arguably literary interpretation is closely related to philosophy of language, and quantum physics and the second law of thermodynamics are very relevant to any discussion of time and free will. I have an issue with Ethics that I will discuss later in this essay. Most importantly, I tend to be most sympathetic to philosophers in the therapeutic tradition, Nietzsche and the French Postmodernists, the philosophers I was exposed to many years ago when I was studying English; the philosophers I studied over the last year and a half however tended to be systematisers. Of course, systematising philosophy has been the mainstream form of philosophising since the Greeks and so it is unsurprising that it has reasserted itself. But, although the tide has currently turned and swept the Postmodernists out to sea, at some point I'm sure the second tradition will return.

Another difficulty I found with some of the philosophy I was exposed to concerns methodology. Philosophers often make claims without evidence. The way it seems to work is that philosophical arguments often depend on shared intuitions: that is, a philosopher will make a claim hoping that the reader will simply nod his head and say to himself, "Well, that seems right to me." The problem with this is that intuitions can be incorrect. Human beings do not have some kind of magical ability to just know that something is true (even though Kant and Rawls seemed to believe this); rather intuitions are shaped by culture and ideology and errors can creep in. How can we show that a commonly held belief is false? Sometimes during the course I backed up my claims by drawing on personal experience, something I do all the time in this blog, but this seems to be bad philosophy, even though it seems to me that when making a claim, a person should find something to support it. The final problem I had with philosophy, as I have indicated above, is that often it was impossible to know if a philosopher was making a descriptive claim or a normative claim, something that bedevils systematisers.

I can illustrate these methodological issues with an example. One of the most influential philosophers of language, Paul Grice, proposed that 'successful' speech obeys something known as the Cooperative Principle, more specifically that it should follow four maxims. The first is that a speaker should say no more and no less than what is required to be informative. The second is that the speaker should only say what she believes to be true and has evidence for. The third is that the speaker's utterances should be relevant to the purposes of the current exchange. The final maxim is that the speaker should be perspicuous. The first issue with Grice's theory is that it is difficult to know if Grice is describing universal characteristics of speech or rather how one ought to conduct oneself during a conversational exchange; a second issue is that Grice supports his argument with simple invented examples of speech use, such as "There's a bull loose in the field!" We are supposed to simply nod our heads and agree that the Cooperative Principle is credible either as a descriptive or normative account of something that underlies language use because it seems intuitively plausible, because we find the invented examples credible. Grice's success seems to be based on the historical accident that philosophers who read him and followed after did indeed nod their heads and say, "Well, that seems right to me." However if you actually consider most language use that people actually engage in, not just those speech acts which are intended to alert another person that a dangerous bull is about or to find out where in the South of France someone is living so the speaker can go visit her, speech acts which can be described as functional, it becomes much more difficult to view the maxims as universal descriptions or prescriptions. Bob might start a conversation with a friend by saying, apropos of nothing, "I read something interesting about Barack Obama last night." Bob says this for no other reason than because he wants to talk about it and hopes that his addressee will find it interesting. The addressee may listen because she does indeed find it interesting or just to be polite. It may make her think of something she has heard or read about someone else and will then take a turn telling a story. And so it goes on, each topic suggesting a subsequent topic, the conversation being something a little analogous to free association. In my view, a person maintains a kind of an interior monologue most of the time and most real world conversations can be considered, and I know this sounds paradoxical, shared internal monologues. Such conversations, and I claim conversations like this form the bulk of actual human language use, violate the Maxim of Relevance because the exchange has no purposes to which to be relevant, as well as the Maxim of Quantity. Additionally, we all know fabulists who often violate the second maxim, as does all literary fiction. It seems then that if we actually consider how we and others actually use language in the real world, that Grice's maxims are not terribly successful at capturing the nature of real conversation. We might then say that Grice's maxims are not intended to describe actual conversation but rather are normative rules that should guide rational language use – and of course we all ought to be rational. But if almost all actual language use violates at least one of the maxims, and if we want to justify the maxims by saying that they undergird rational language use, then we are forced to say that most people most of the time are using language irrationally. And such an argument would, I think, be self defeating. It seems self-contradictory to say that the Cooperative Principle is the rational principle behind all language use whilst conceding that most people most of the time do not obey it.

This is not to say that Grice's theory isn't important or that it might not have paved the way for theories closer to the truth. In some ways the Cooperative Principle does seem somewhat plausible to me. In the remainder of this essay however I wish to discuss four topics within modern philosophy, particularly I think as it comes out of American universities, that I do seriously disagree with. The first is the attitude of modern philosophers to 'schizophrenia', the second is the credence many philosophers give to evolutionary psychology or evolutionary biology, the third concerns 'Decision Theory', and the fourth concerns the modern impasse in ethics. What unites these modern tendencies of or schools within philosophy is a faith in rationality: they either assume that people are or ought to be rational, or they assume that when people are seemingly irrational there is a rational explanation. (The later assumption crops up when philosophers discuss schizophrenia or invoke evolutionary psychology.) They all arise directly or indirectly from the systematising tradition.

I have noticed that Anglophone philosophers sometimes refer to schizophrenia although, in what I have read, they don't have the foggiest idea what it actually is. About three years ago a friend of mine emailed me a philosophical essay concerning Ian Hacking's theory of 'looping' (although not an essay written by Hacking himself) that used schizophrenia as an example. (I shall not define 'looping' here because the reader can look it up on the Internet.) In this essay, the authors imagine a young man, call him Charles, who one day, for no reason at all, starts hearing voices. He sees a psychiatrist who diagnoses him schizophrenic. Subsequently Charles learns that schizophrenics supposedly have trouble looking after themselves and starts overcompensating, going to such obsessive lengths to keep his home and clothes clean that he alienates his friends and acquaintances. I thought this essay was utterly idiotic and having read it I ended up having an argument with my friend via email that ultimately led to us falling out entirely. This essay was an attempt to 'rationally' explain looping grounded on intuitions about schizophrenia that seem plausible to people who have never had a real conversation with anyone unlucky enough to be diagnosed schizophrenic. For one thing, it makes the serious error of supposing that people start experiencing psychotic symptoms for no reason at all; I believe, in contrast, that there are always proximate causes for the emergence of psychosis. Furthermore, if the argument of the essay were correct, we would expect many people who have been diagnosed schizophrenic to start exhibiting behaviours that are the opposite of the textbook signs and symptoms of schizophrenia that psychiatrists look for. This does not happen. It seems to me, rather, that often patients pick up on the idea that they supposedly have difficulty with self-care and, against their will, begin exhibiting a corresponding pattern of behaviour. The essay writers, I suspect, had completely misunderstood Hacking's theory. (I note here that, although I have not yet read any of Hacking's books, Hacking himself seems to be a credible philosopher. He was influenced by Foucault and for a time held an important position at the College de France. He seems to belong more to the therapeutic rather than systematising tradition in philosophy.)

If some philosophers have an interest in schizophrenia, it might be because modern systematising philosophy, particular as it comes out of Anglo-American universities, is concerned with how people ought to rationally behave, and schizophrenia is shorthand for irrationality. If man is the "rational animal", schizophrenics, because they are supposedly irrational, are in a sense not human. There is thus, among some philosophers, a fascination with schizophrenia. However, as I suggested above, most philosophers simply know nothing about it. I would like to suggest now that psychosis may often not result from irrational beliefs but rather from reason misapplied, that schizophrenia is philosophy seen in a funhouse mirror, and that perhaps the reason philosophers are at once fascinated and repelled by schizophrenia is because there is in reality a kinship between the philosopher and the schizophrenic. To support this contention I will say something again about my first psychotic episode.

As I mentioned many years ago in the post "My First Psychotic Episode", in 2007 I decided that the world was ruled by a conspiracy of closet homosexuals and held onto this delusion for about seven months. This was not an entirely irrational delusion but rather resulted from a deductive argument I came up with in April of that year which I spelt out in the other post and will spell out again.

P1. The world is full of closet homosexuals.
P2. Closet homosexuals can recognise each other but heterosexuals usually cannot tell that someone is a closet homosexual.
P3. Like the Freemasons, closet homosexuals want to help each other up the social ladder.
C. Therefore, closet homosexuals percolate to the top or, in other words, the world is ruled by a conspiracy of closet homosexuals.

This argument is valid. But it is unsound. It is very likely that all three premises are wrong. In particular, the notion that the world is full of closet homosexuals is very hard to prove or disprove because closet homosexuals obviously don't disclose their homosexuality on census forms. A little later in the same year I formulated another argument that was, I think, mostly valid but also unsound. I decided that heterosexuality was being systematically weeded out of the gene pool. I can present the argument schematically as follows:

P1. There are two types of people in the world, heterosexuals and homosexuals.
P2. The reason homosexuals are homosexual is that they carry the gay gene.
P3. Selfish-gene theory, as first proposed by Richard Dawkins, is true, meaning that people who carry the gay gene want to outcompete and outproduce the people who do not carry the gay gene. 
P4. The previous argument is also correct, meaning that closet homosexuals have power.
C. Therefore, closet homosexuals are conspiring to have more children than heterosexuals and so weed heterosexuality out of the gene pool..

This argument is not quite valid because it seems to be implying that homosexuals are deliberately conspiring to weed heterosexuality out of the gene pool whereas evolutionary psychologists tend to argue that the biological imperatives, supposedly given to us by evolution, of wanting to survive and produce as many offspring as possible, are deeply unconscious. However this argument is not quite irrational because many of its premises are held to be true by many people. They are assumptions or shared intuitions widely accepted even by philosophers that should I believe be rejected. The first premise may seem plausible to many people – in 2007 and still today, it has been widely believed that there is a sharp dividing line between gay people and straight people. This shared intuition is quite wrong. There are in reality many bisexuals in the world, as I pointed out in the post "Childhood Trauma and Bisexuality". The second premise also seems plausible until one thinks about it critically. Many people still believe in a gay gene: in 2012, Nature actually published an article claiming that the gay gene had been discovered, a study that was later debunked but which (as I know from a Youtube clip I saw years ago) at least briefly swept up Richard Dawkins himself at the time. In fact the idea of a gay gene is (if we think about it critically) quite irrational and more recent research has fairly conclusively shown that no such gene exists. Finally, Neo-Darwinism is accepted quite uncritically by many people but, as I have argued in a number of posts, does not stand up to serious scrutiny as a way of explaining human nature and the human mind. Yes, my conclusion that heterosexuality was being systematically weeded out of the gene pool seems quite insane but the premises of the argument I formed are ones still widely accepted today because few people bother to think through all their implications. In order to repudiate the logic that led to me becoming intensely paranoid way back in 2007, I have had to reject these premises, these shared intuitions, something I did a long time ago.

This discussion leads me to another criticism I have of modern philosophy: the credence given to evolutionary psychology and evolutionary biology. My current position is, I think, fairly clear. Although I believe in evolution, I do not believe in evolutionary psychology and have argued against it in other posts such as "Threading the Needle". Although the people who criticise Neo-Darwinism are often Fundamentalist Christians, I am not a Young Earth Creationist myself– I am not even a Christian. I do not subscribe to any religion at all. It is unfortunate that people assume that if a person opposes Neo-Darwinism this must be motivated reasoning resulting from prior religious commitments. There are in fact some philosophers who oppose Neo-Darwinism but who do not subscribe to any religion, one example being the recently deceased Jerry Fodor. In What Darwin Got Wrong, published in 2010, Fodor argued against natural selection on the grounds that too many phenotypic traits have no survival value and so consequently could not have been selected for. Fodor's argument against the Modern Synthesis is different than mine but there may be some truth to it – it is difficult for me to say because I have not read Fodor's book. Interestingly (and here I am quoting a New Yorker piece), Fodor said, "Neo-Darwinism is taken as axiomatic. It goes literally unquestioned. A view that looks to contradict it, either directly or by implication, is ipso facto rejected, however plausible it may otherwise seem.” I would put it differently. Many philosophers assume that Neo-Darwinism is the most rational explanation for, it seems, just about everything; to oppose Neo-Darwinism is to be (ipso facto) irrational. It seems, at least according to the New Yorker piece, that Fodor was more or less ostracised by the philosophical community because he dared to question the Neo–Darwinist orthodoxy.

I can provide a couple of examples of the way evolutionary psychology and evolutionary biology have seeped into modern philosophy. In Reasons and Persons, published in 1984, Parfit discusses the bias towards the future that humans possess – we apparently care more about future pains and pleasures than past pains and pleasures. Parfit says that this bias seems to him irrational but that we cannot do anything about it because it was "given to us by evolution". It is a throwaway remark. Parfit, although an interesting writer, is not particularly adept at dealing with scientific issues: the problem with his saying that the bias towards the future was given to us by evolution is that no mechanism through which this occurs is proposed. How can a sequence of nucleotides on a chromosome bring about a bias towards the future in the minds of humans (and perhaps in some animals)? Until the scientists can explain how a bias towards the future can be genetically coded for, we are entitled to doubt Parfit's claim. In Faces in the Clouds, published in 1995, Stewart Guthrie argues that animism is genetic. His argument is that, in prehistory, the safest survival strategy was to interpret environmental stimuli, such as the rustling of branches, as the result of intentional activity. The rustling could always be an indicator that a sabre-toothed tiger was about and it is better to be safe than sorry. The problem is again one of mechanism. How can a string of nucleotides on a length of DNA cause people to believe that there are spirits in the rivers and mountains? There is a second problem with Guthrie's theory. I am not an animist, nor is anyone I know. If animism is indeed genetic, if it is coded into all our DNA, why are there so few animists left in the developed world? If animism is a genetic adaptation, a gene or collection of genes selected for by environmental pressures during prehistory, we should still all be animists today.

Another way evolutionary biology has seeped into modern philosophy concerns the definition of 'disease', something I encountered in a course last semester. Many philosophers of biology, such as Christopher Boorse, want to objectively define disease naturalistically, as a failure of biological organs and systems to perform the functions given to them by evolution – that is, a disease is something that impedes a person's ability to survive and procreate optimally. One problem with the absolute faith in the explanatory power of evolution is that it becomes very difficult to explain why organisms undergo senescence and eventually die of old age, although some evolutionary biologists such as Bret Weinstein have made valiant efforts to account for senescence and inevitable biological failure. (I note here that although I disagree with Bret's view on covid vaccinations, he and his wife Heather Heying are still worth viewing on Youtube.) If we also consider animals like Black Widow Spiders, I think we are forced to conclude that if we have deeply unconscious motivations given to us by evolution, it must simply be to procreate, with survival merely being a means to this end. If this is so, if 'health' is simply the capability to produce as many offspring as possible and 'disease' is something that disrupts this telos, then we would be forced to define homosexuality, understood as most people understand it, as a disease, a mental illness. Moreover we would have to define shyness, a willingness to use contraception, and the inclination to become a Catholic priest as all being symptomatic of mental illness. So this naturalistic definition fails because it encompasses many dispositions that most of us would not consider diseases. Consider also the fact that Elon Musk, who has described himself as having Autism Spectrum Disorder, has ten children. Autism Spectrum Disorder is often considered a disease but Musk's 'mental illness' has not prevented him procreating well more than the average person. Thus the naturalistic definition of 'disease' is neither sufficient nor necessary and should be rejected.

One reason the naturalistic definition of disease became popular is that it arises out of the 'rational' systematising tradition within philosophy. Modern Anglo-American philosophers want to believe that the term 'disease' has a definite meaning and are arguing with each other about what this real meaning actually is. I believe however that Wittgenstein's 'family resemblance' theory of the meaning of words is more appropriate for the term 'disease'. The concept denoted by the word is loose and its boundaries are constantly changing as society changes. (Recall that Wittgenstein's later work was more in the therapeutic rather than systematising tradition.). The appeal of the naturalistic definition of 'disease' also stems from the blind faith philosophers and society generally have in 'evolution'. Many modern philosophers place the term 'evolution' at the centre of the system in the same way that medieval theologians placed 'God' at the centre of the system. 'Evolution' has become what Derrida called a 'transcendental signified' and is the heart of a new religion. To reject Neo-Darwinism today is to be a heretic. Furthermore it is to be irrational. Yes, evolutionary psychologists say, people may sometimes behave irrationally but they obeying a deeper rationality, the imperatives "given to us by evolution".

I won't again spell out my own views on Neo-Darwinism here but it is possible that science itself will end up refuting the claims of Richard Dawkins and his disciples. I can recommend several Youtube videos by Anton Petrov: "DNA Mutation and Evolution Are Not As Random As We Thought", "Mind Blowing Experiment Evolved Multicellular Life In Just 600 Days" and "Evidence for Unusual Chemistry and DNA Mutation Due to Quantum Effects". In particular, if we consider the last video (which describes how mutations usually seem to result from quantum tunnelling) in light of the idea that the supposed randomness of quantum mechanics may not really be random at all, it may lead us toward a better although far more spooky theory of evolution than the Neo-Darwinism currently in vogue: evolution may result from what Rupert Sheldrake calls "top-down causation" rather than simply natural selection acting on chance mutation.

The next popular subfield within philosophy that I wish to critique is 'Decision Theory'. I am here drawing from the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy 'Decision Theory' article. (I note that this article is complex and the subject has mainly been explored by mathematicians and sophisticated logicians, and that the version of decision theory I shall present here is perhaps an oversimplification.) The basic idea behind decision theory, as I shall present it, is that we make decisions by choosing options that maximise Expected Utility. When faced with a decision about whether to opt for A or B, I choose A over B because I believe that choosing A will make me happier, satisfy my desires more, or just generally be better than B. (In the theory the term 'utility' is left vague.) One issue that complicates the theory is that one cannot be absolutely confident that one's decision will result in one's preferred outcome and so we need to bring in probability: when a person has more than one option, she should consider not only the outcomes that result from her choice but the probabilities of the various outcomes. Suppose Sue decides to bet a dollar that Bruce will throw a head on a fair coin in the expectation that if she wins Bruce will give her three dollars: her decision is rational because the expected utility is 3/2 – 1 or 1/2, a positive number. In scenarios such as this, scenarios involving gambling in which utility can be measured monetarily, the outcomes are easy to quantify, but it is much more difficult to quantify utility in most other situations; nevertheless modern decision theorists seem to believe that we are somehow weighing up utilities and probabilities whenever we make decisions, that we assign cardinal rather than ordinal values to the different predicted outcomes. The logic seems to be as follows: humans are rational, Decision Theory is the most rational way to make decisions, so humans must be employing Decision Theory whenever we are choosing between different options. 

The issue with Decision Theory as with the other doctrines I have discussed is that it is a theory that seems plausible only so long as we do not consider the real world and how real people actually behave. Our credence in it is again based on reasonable-seeming shared assumptions that are probably wrong. Consider gambling. Every week my mother buys a Lotto ticket hoping to win millions of dollars. However the Lottery Commission makes more money (from ticket sales) than it doles out in prizes. The monetary prizes multiplied by the probability of winning each prize is always less than the cost of a ticket so the Expected Utility is always a negative number – so, therefore, it is irrational for my mother and hundreds of thousands of other New Zealanders to buy Lotto tickets. The same argument applies to casinos: in the long run the house always wins so the expected utility of going out for a night gambling, when measured monetarily, is always negative. It could be argued that buying a Lotto ticket enables a person to daydream about winning millions of dollars in the period before the draw and that this is also a form of utility that should be included as a positive entry in the ledger, so making the Lotto ticket purchase a rational decision. Similarly it could be argued that the excitement of gambling at a casino makes up for the fact that one will almost certainly leave with less money than one came into it with. However bringing in such considerations as a way to show that people are rational and employ Decision Theory when making such decisions seems suspiciously ad hoc.

Decision Theory has its roots in the theories of probability introduced by Pascal (famous for his eponymous wager), theories originally concerning gambling. I have just shown that Decision Theory has trouble with the types of real-world gambling real people engage in. It fails completely when we consider all the real world decisions we make where money is not involved, where the Expected Utilities are unquantifiable, where some of the outcomes are unknowable, and where we cannot even guess at the probabilities of those outcomes we can envisage. In 2006, I rocked up to bFM with the vague hope of resuscitating an old friendship and perhaps helping out at the station. I had no way of knowing what working at the station would be like, and not the slightest inkling that it would result in a serious psychotic episode and the derailing of my entire life. I did not contemplate this outcome at all let alone assign a probabilistic value to it. In 2013, I reentered the Taylor Centre voluntarily with the intention of getting it on the record that I am straight and always have been. I did not envisage that early the next year I would be put under a Compulsory Treatment Order that I am still under today. When I look back on this pivotal decision, I feel that I was driven to take this step, that I had no other choice but to go back to the Taylor Centre and ask to see any psychiatrist other than Antony Fernando. I did not then understand psychiatry and psychiatrists as well as I do today and even today I do not fully understand what psychiatric 'best practice' supposedly is. It feels as though when I made my 2013 decision I was being driven by Fate or some deeply subconscious impetus, what Georg Groddeck called "the it". Either way my decision was not 'rational' and especially not an exercise in Decision Theory: I didn't imagine all the possible outcomes, determine each outcome's Expected Utility, and assign to each a  probabilistic value. Drawing on my own experience in this way may seem like bad philosophy but I would ask you, dear reader, to critically look at significant decisions you've made in your own life. Suppose you have a fairly satisfying job. How can you be sure that, by hanging out a little longer and applying for other jobs, you couldn't have found another with better pay, fewer hours, and a more congenial work culture? Even if we consider the mundane decisions we make every day, it does not seem we fully envisage all the potential outcomes of our actions and assign probabilities to them, even if it were possible for mere humans to assign numerical probabilities to all potential outcomes. If Decision Theory does not actually capture the way real people make decisions in the real world, then it seems to be an abstract project that, while interesting, is useless, is devoid of any real world application (although economists like to imagine that homo economicus does make decisions in this 'rational' way). 

Academic philosophers who like Decision Theory may do so because their lives have been unhindered ascents up the academic ladder, from undergraduate philosophy degrees to positions teaching philosophy in Harvard and Princeton; it may be that such people, people who have never suffered serious misfortunes, believe that they have achieved success as the result of a series of rationally calculated decisions, that they had correctly estimated all the Expected Utilities and probabilities involved on every occasion, that there were never any potential Black Swan Events to derail them, and this is why they find Decision Theory so attractive. I would however reiterate my opinion, an empirical claim based on my own life and I suspect yours as well, that most of our decisions are not rational in the way that Decision Theorists claim that they are. Decision Theorists may seek to answer this objection by saying that their theory does not describe how people actually make decisions but rather how they ought to make decision. We here find ourselves wading into the same aporia or ambiguity that I have suggested bedevils Grice's maxims: is Decision Theory descriptive or normative? A conundrum for Decision Theorist is the Allais paradox (which I will not synopsise here because the reader can look it up online). The Allais paradox strongly suggests that either people are not fully rational or that at least one of the axioms of traditional Decision Theory is wrong. Many philosophers, rather than abandon the Aristotelian notion that rationality is essential to human-ness, have sought to amend Decision Theory to save the idea that people are rational.  Because people are essentially rational, they argue, Decision Theory should be reformulated. I would suggest that they should simply bite the bullet and admit that people are not rational. And if we recognise that almost all our decisions are irrational, the claim that people ought to make decisions with respect to Expected Utility, ought to be rational, becomes harder to maintain. (It is also worth noting that we could ask those advocates of Decision Theory that are also fans of Evolutionary Psychology how we could expect human beings who evolved to live in caves and hunt megafauna to 'rationally' assess the lotteries involved in the Allais Paradox.)

It seems that modern philosophy, as it is inculcated into students by philosophy departments in anglophone universities, is principally concerned with how people ought rationally to behave. It is unsurprising then that although some parts of philosophy have been encroached upon by other disciplines, a core topic which remains firmly within philosophy is ethics and a core sub-discipline is normative ethics (as opposed to practical ethics and meta-ethics, the latter of which I shall come back to in a moment). This is the next subfield within philosophy that I wish to discuss. The three main contenders within normative ethics are consequentialism (which used to be called utilitarianism), deontology, and virtue ethics. I won't define these three theories here because the reader can look them up online. The most popular of these three theories today, it seems to me, is consequentialism, the idea that we should act in such a way as to maximise positive outcomes. The question then arises: what do we mean by positive outcomes? Consequentialism trifurcates into three subdivisions: the proposal that we should try to maximise happiness (known as Hedonism), the proposal that we should try to maximally satisfy desires (sometimes called Subjectivism), and the proposal that there are objectively valuable things that we ought to try to maximise (known as Objective List Theories). A famous example of a modern consequentialist is Sam Harris (although Harris, because his Doctorate was in neuroscience rather than philosophy and because he is not an academic affiliated with Harvard or Princeton, is probably not taken seriously by professional philosophers). In The Moral Landscape, Harris argues that we should try to maximise 'well being' but, as I understand it, never satisfactorily defines 'well being' perhaps because he thinks the meaning of this term is obvious the same way Parfit thought the meaning of the term "rational" was obvious.

One of the most important early consequentialists was Jeremy Bentham. Bentham's "fundamental axiom", first proposed in 1776, is that "it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong." Note Bentham's use of the word "axiom": an axiom can be defined as "a statement that is so evident or well-established that it is accepted without controversy or question". The problem here is that prior to Bentham and since him there have also been deontologists and virtue ethicists and so his "axiom" simply cannot be described as self evident or as something that is accepted without controversy or question. Rather it is an intuition that fans of Bentham share and that opponents reject. Once again we are supposed to just nod our heads and agree but not everyone has or does. Even within consequentialism there is insurmountable disagreement between Hedonists, Subjectivists, and Objective List Theorists and no clear way to resolve this dispute.

If consequentialism is indeed, as I suspect, currently the most most popular major theory within normative ethics, it may be because it dovetails so neatly with Decision Theory, and both fit so well with late capitalist consumerist society where increasingly everything has a monetary value.  Decision Theory says that rationally we ought act in such a way that will maximise Expected Utility and consequentialism simply adds to this the idea that we should try to maximise utility (say for instance happiness) in a general impersonal way. Parfit was a consequentialist although, at least in Reasons and Persons, he leaves the question of which of the three types of utility we should seek to maximise open. In Reasons and Persons, he advances a number of arguments in favour of impersonality and even argues, in the most important part of his book, that we should discard the idea of 'personal identity' altogether. The implication of this book is that we should simply seek to increase the happiness or desire satisfaction of all beings regardless of who these beings are or when during their existence they formed particular desires. Parfit's argument naturally leads us to consider whether we should also take into account the happiness or desires of non-human animals although Parfit does not address this issue himself, perhaps because he believes in the Aristotelian definition and sees humans and non-human animals as quite distinct in that humans are (potentially) rational and animals not. It is not the purpose of this essay to discuss Reasons and Persons in detail except that I will say that there must be a problem with Parfit's ostensibly rational argument if it leads to the conclusion that there are no such things as persons. It is an argument based entirely on 'reason' and sometimes outlandish thought experiments rather than on an understanding of real people and how real people actually behave in the real world.

How do adherents of different schools debate each other? How do they seek to bolster their own theories and debunk those of others? The way that normative ethics often proceeds is through the use of thought experiments, a famous example being the Trolley Problem. The fact that most people would prefer to divert a trolley onto a track that has one person tied to it rather than allow it to run over five is taken by consequentialists as evidence that consequentialism is correct and deontology false, even though we can modify the details of the trolley problem or invent alternative thought experiments that elicit responses that seem to support deontology instead. The methodology is interesting. The use of thought experiments seems to be justified by an implicit assumption that there is a universal moral instinct, a moral instinct that is rational, unified and coherent, which everyone shares, and which can be revealed through our responses to such thought experiments; the aim of normative ethicists is to show that this universal moral instinct aligns best with one of the three major ethical schools and, among consequentialists, with their preferred subdivision of consequentialism. This is similar to the way some philosophers have sought to establish the 'correct' definition of the term 'disease' as though its meaning exists objectively, independent of the way we have tended to use this word. However the fact that no consensus in normative ethics has been reached after centuries of disagreement, that we seem still to stuck in the same stalemate, strongly suggests that no rational universal moral sense exists.

This is not to say that all ethics is a waste of time. Meta-ethics is that part of ethics that assumes that people have a moral sense and seeks to establish what it fundamentally is. It asks: what does it mean to say some actions or people are 'good' and others 'bad'? It is concerned with what the term 'good' signifies; it is descriptive rather than normative. Among meta-ethicists there are some who believe that morality is real, objective, and universal; such meta-ethical theories provide a good foundation for the dialogue among normative ethicists described above because such theories suppose either that there is a universal moral instinct or that somehow morality can be derived from reason or empirical facts. However there are other meta-ethical theories which are subjective and relative. An example of a meta-ethical theory that is anti-realist is emotivism, a theory originally proposed by A.J. Ayer and elaborated by Charles Stevenson. According to this theory, ethical sentences express emotions. For instance, the sentence "Murder is wrong" simply expresses the speaker's distaste or abhorrence of murder. If emotivism is true, this suggests that moral discourse need not have a rational basis. I might have been conditioned as a child not to lie and so whenever I consider lying today I feel nauseous, even in situations where I will never be found out and when lying would have net positive consequences. If emotivism is true the moral instinct not only might not be rational but might be different for every single person. Another example of a meta-ethical theory that is anti-realist is universal prescriptivism, a theory originally proposed by R.M Hare. According to this theory, the sentence "Murder is wrong" should really be understood as an imperative, "Do not murder people!" If prescriptivism is true, it suggests that basically morality is a form of obedience to authority. The reason we recycle our plastic waste is not deontological –  we do not rationally consider this action in the light of Kant's Categorial Imperative. Nor is it consequentialist – we do not rationally compare all the consequences of putting our plastic waste in the blue bin with all the consequences of not doing so. A Virtue Ethicist might say that we recycle because we want to view ourselves as conscientious environmentalists and there is perhaps a little truth to this. But really we recycle because many of us have been brought up by our families to recycle and because we feel that we are expected to recycle by governments, family, and peers, and if we fail to conform to the behaviours expected of us, the behaviours we 'ought' to exhibit, we feel at the very least a nagging feeling of guilt.

It might be possible to sketch out a theory of what morality is rather than what it ought to be. The cells of a human body all have functions and all participate in the proper operation of the body. Similarly, perhaps, human society can be considered a type of meta-organism in which all humans are participating in the proper functioning of this meta-organism. Moral discourse in all its forms, whether exhortatory, legalistic, or in the form of gossip works to encourage people to conform to others' expectations about what is appropriate for the particular positions within society they occupy and for their roles as generic citizens of the state. We obey the rules, rules often established by authorities but also sometimes emerging from our peers, because we are subunits of a larger superorganism – consider, for instance the way twitter mobs descend on people for minor infractions of political correctness. In this sense morality is indeed prescriptive. However we also internalise these rules so that when exposed to someone who has broken a rule or when we consider breaking a rule ourselves, we feel an emotional reaction. This sketch is imperfect because it seems to suggest that morality ultimately has no higher warrant than the interests of society itself, treated as something unitary, and so does not enable us to adjudicate between the moral claims of different societies, to explain how moral disagreement can arise among members of a particular society, or account for the ways moral norms change over time. However it is not the purpose of this essay to explore this theory in detail. My intent here is simply to say that it is more useful and interesting to try to describe what morality is than to wrangle endlessly about what it should be.

In this essay, I have sought to show some problems with modern philosophy. I have diagnosed this condition as being the result of a resurgence of 'rational', 'systematising' philosophy. Such philosophy is defective because it does not clearly distinguish between norms and descriptions, and because it relies on shared intuitions that are often wrong. Grice's cooperative principle, although plausible seeming, does not capture the nature of real language use in the real world. The descriptions of schizophrenia presented by some philosophers may seem plausible to people who know nothing about it or who rely wholly on the DSM, who have never spoken to anyone diagnosed schizophrenic, but are usually complete fictions. Evolutionary psychology seems plausible because it arises from a simple theory, Neo-Darwinism, that philosophers assume to be axiomatic, even though experience of the real world and increasingly science itself show that evolutionary biology needs to be completely rethought. Decision Theory seems plausible because it just seems the most rational way to make decisions even though real people in the real world never make decisions in the way Decision Theory prescribes. And finally Normative Ethics is problematic because although each of the three main theories seems rational to some people, there is no way to adjudicate between the three, and none of the theories really captures the way people conduct themselves morally in the real world. The common theme of my criticisms is that these supposedly 'rational' theories are untethered from reality. We might consider the conspiracy theories I entertained for a period way back in 2007. Those theories were in a sense 'rational' but were also untethered from reality. 

In this essay, I have perhaps made the same mistake Parfit made – I have used the word 'rational' repeatedly without defining it. I cannot propose a good definition here except to say that insofar as philosophical claims follow deductively, inductively, or abductively from shared intuitions, they are only rational if the shared intuitions are correct and if these shared intuitions are grounded in reality, i.e. a person's experience of the world and those psychological, moral, and metaphysical facts that can be gathered from science, history, biography, and literature. Yes, even the most informed person can make mistakes but the errors I have mentioned in this essay seem so flagrant that, if we say that rationality requires empirical support, these theories must in this sense be regarded as actually irrational.

I'll finish this essay by relating modern philosophy to the wider world. We seem to be living through a crisis of meaning-making. Conspiracy theories at least as crazy as the ones I entertained in 2007 are embraced by huge groups of people. Climate change denialism runs through society from the bottom to the top. Here in New Zealand the major party of the Left has rejected a capital gains tax even though such a tax is both sensible and necessary. There is a possibility that Trump could be reelected and even a possibility that he might end up running the United States while under house arrest in Mar-a-Lago. And in philosophy departments across the anglophone world, students are taught Decision Theory and consequentialism and theories of human nature derived from evolutionary psychology as if these theories are as factually grounded as chemistry, as if these theories are indeed all rational. Is this a sign of a disconnect between academic philosophy and the wider world or is there somehow a connection? Perhaps people sense that what we accepted as true twenty years ago is now in doubt. Perhaps there is a sense that the modern return to systematising philosophy is hollow at its heart.  People are scrambling to find alternative mental schemas through which to interpret the world and there is a splintering associated with this crisis of meaning making. I concede that in this blog I have often tried to show that many commonly shared intuitions are incorrect and so this blog may be part of the problem rather than the solution. It is, for instance, conceivable that to argue that there is no such thing as free will is harmful even if it is true. It may be though that what will arise from the current crisis in meaning-making will be a new shared paradigm that is more true than what preceded it, more pragmatic, or both. There is a question about what role academic philosophy will play in the future. What I would like to see is a philosophy that builds on Postmodernism rather than rejecting it and retreating to older theories that have no relevance to the modern world. I want to see a philosophy that is concerned with the truth, whatever that is, rather than with vacuous argumentation. What I want to see is a philosophy that is genuinely rational rather than just 'rational'.

[A house-keeping note. Readers may have noticed that I have unpublished the previous post. This is not because I said anything untrue in it but because I was stepping on someone else's toes. An interesting problem related to autobiography is how a person can tell his or her life story without mentioning other people. This is something that may be worth discussing in a later post.]

Sunday, 9 April 2023

Cavemen in Cars

Tonight's post will be very short. In it, I'm going to present a simple argument exposing an error made by many prominent thinkers today, an error they would not make if they thought critically about the world in which they live. The error I wish to discuss is very common – Tim Poole makes it as does Bret Weinstein and his wife Heather Haying. So, I believe, do Sam Harris and Steven Pinker. The error, a result of a dogmatic adherence to evolutionary psychology, has developed into a myth, a myth that arose with evolutionary biologists but which has promulgated from them to the general populace. Although the argument I will present exposing this error is simple, I believe it is compelling. An argument doesn't need to be long and laboured to persuade others of a simple, obvious truth.

The error, the myth, runs as follows. Human beings are the products of millions of years of evolution. Evolutionary pressures shaped not only our bodies but our brains (and minds). For most of that time humans were hunter gatherers. In the last, say, 150 years we have experienced massive technological changes, such as the introduction of electricity, the use of automobiles, computers, cell phones, contraception, and so on, as well as massive societal changes. Therefore, because evolution designed humans to be hunter gatherers, we are maladapted to the modern world. 

The power of this myth can be adduced from many examples in the culture today – for example, the popularity of the 'Palaeolithic diet' rests on the supposed fact that it is the diet our caveman ancestors maintained of necessity and is the diet evolution shaped us to adopt. (Humans did not historically eat sugars or processed foods and so these are bad for us and should be excluded.) One reason the myth has captured the public imagination so, why it appeals to people as strongly as it does, is that many people feel a kind of malaise, a dissatisfaction with modern life, and they feel they can explain this unhappiness by taking the view that they are really cavemen and cavewomen living in the wrong era.

The argument behind this myth can be expressed schematically as follows:

P1. Evolutionary psychology is true.

P2. If evolutionary psychology is true, we were designed by evolution to live in small hunter gatherer communities.

P3. Modern societies are no longer hunter gather societies but are technologically and societally very different from the communities humans lived in during prehistory.

C. Therefore, humans are maladapted to modern life.

Let us assume that P2 and P3 are true. It seems then that we can express the the argument as a simple conditional: "If evolutionary psychology is true, humans are maladapted to modern life". Many, many intellectuals these days just assume that evolutionary psychology is true (although this is a relatively recent fashion). It is kind of dogma, a religious tenet – it might offend Richard Dawkins to say that he helped found a religion but it is true. Many intellectuals accept this creed on blind faith and ignore all the empirical evidence presented by the world that they live in that shows that it must be false. According to simple logic, when we have a conditional 'if A, then B' and we also we have 'not-B' we must conclude 'not-A'. If humans are not maladapted to modern life, then evolutionary psychology must be false. This is what I shall try to briefly show.

Consider driving ability. When I was a teenager, I had driving lessons and failed my first driving test. These days however I am a very competent driver – it is second nature to me now as it is to most people. When you think about it, driving a car is a very complex skill. One needs to know how to steer a car using the steering wheel and synchronise this with the brake and accelerator pedals, constantly monitor one's environment using mirrors, and obey all the laws of the road. Incredibly, drivers seem to have a very good sense of where the corners of the car are, enabling them to parallel park and manoeuvre through small gaps. This complex capability, a capability that people take for granted, could, obviously, not be evolutionarily endowed because automobiles have only been in use for a hundred years. Driving is a learned ability. If all our abilities were the result of evolutionary pressures, if they were all genetic, we could not explain why modern humans are so good at driving. Even though evolution didn't select for those humans who could drive and weed out those who it couldn't, it seems that, with respect to driving cars, humans are not maladapted but extraordinarily well-adapted.

At this moment, I am writing a short essay. Many intellectuals, such as Steven Pinker, posit a 'language instinct' that has evolved over hundreds of thousands if not millions of years as an explanation for how I can use language in this essay to communicate my point. However we cannot suppose that the ability to write, or even more than this, to spell words, is an evolutionary adaption because writing and spelling are too recent to have been subject to adaptive pressures. I can touch-type, an ability I am exercising now; obviously I could not have inherited this capability from my caveman ancestors because they didn't have keyboards. I can operate my computer and know how to browse the Internet if I need to look something up. A critic might say, "You can use a computer but you don't know how it works!" Of course, this is true but it is a very weak argument. Our prehistoric ancestors, who presumably knew which fungi were edible and which were poisonous, didn't know why some fungi were edible and others poisonous. For that, they would have needed knowledge of chemistry and biology that obviously they didn't possess.

We seem to have many capabilities that are not traceable back to DNA, a fact that gives us reason to doubt evolutionary psychology. If we reject evolutionary psychology, what can we put in its place? It seems that human brains are extraordinarily plastic, meaning that rather than being born with what evolutionary psychologists call modules, modules that are genetic and have arisen (originally through chance mutation) during prehistory, that are innate, the brains of humans adapt to the environments in which these humans find themselves. Because you were born into a world of cars and computers, cell phones and contraception, your brain developed in ways that allowed you to interact with and manipulate these technologies perfectly competently. Rather than being maladapted to the modern world, humans are supremely well-adapted to it. Thus, according to the argument I advanced above, evolutionary psychology must be wrong. 

I have criticised evolutionary psychology in the past, most recently in the post "Threading the Needle", but the argument I have presented above may be the strongest I have put forward. In this argument I am presenting evolutionary psychology and neuroplasticity, nature and nurture, as though they are mutually exclusive, stark alternatives. A critic may say that any reasonable understanding of human nature involves both. According to this view, it may be possible for human beings to be, in some ways and to some extent, maladapted to the modern world without being in all ways maladapted – such a critic may say that that the picture I hinted at above in which cavemen and cavewomen are thrown into a world of cars and computers and contraception is a straw man. Some capabilities, it could be argued, are innate and some are learned. I accept that such a mixed picture is possible. The reason I have presented my argument so strongly is that theories about human nature derived from evolutionary psychology have become extremely popular in recent decades, and this straw man argument is pretty much the picture put forward. I believe the popularity of these theories quite unjustified.

Although the argument I have presented above was the main point of this essay, I wish to finish by briefly discussing another topic. The catalyst for this post was a recent interview between Sam Harris and Tim Poole. In this and recent podcasts, Harris has taken to talking darkly and disparagingly about mental illness, something Bill Maher and Stephen Colbert used to but no longer do. I would like to pretend for a moment that Sam Harris reads this blog and speak to him directly. Sam, many of your listeners may have experienced mental illness, such as depression, anxiety, or even psychosis. They may listen to you because they regard you as a sane voice in an insane world (even if some of them sometimes disagree with you). To talk about mental illness in such a stigmatising way may distress such listeners. Additionally, the way you talk about mental illness suggests that you do not really understand what this term means. This seems a gross oversight by someone who prides himself on using language precisely. I am not suggesting that you censor yourself, nor am I arguing that you should be cancelled for this insensitivity. I am not calling for another twitter mob to descend on you. Rather I am suggesting that you bear in mind the possibility that people who have experienced mental illness might number among your fans. Yes, you may be wrong about evolutionary psychology, but you still have a voice worth listening to. All I am suggesting is that you take a more considered and considerate approach rather than simply blaming everything you dislike about the actions of others in the world on 'mental illness'. It is the most humane attitude to take. This is all I want to say in this post.