Why Every Man Should Study Classical Culture

From the Art of Manliness:

Why Every Man Should Study Classical Culture

Excerpts:

“When the famous Great Books curriculum was created in the 1930s at the University of Chicago, its purpose was to acquaint students with the primary source texts that had played a fundamental role in shaping Western thought and culture. University president Robert M. Hutchins wanted Americans to be able to take part in what he called “the Great Conversation.” For him, this universal dialogue was made up of the deep discussions which form around the philosophical pursuit of Truth, which began with the ancient Greeks and continues today.

Topics of the Great Conversation concern the Big Ideas that philosophers, theologians, and artists have been mulling over for thousands of years. What is justice? What is true friendship? What is love? What is honor? How do you live a good life?

Like any discussion that you take part in, to actively participate in the Great Conversation, you need to have an idea of what’s already been said; you don’t want to be the guy who jumps in and blurts out things that make no sense. Lots of people today are willing to state their opinion on the Big Ideas in life without having taken the time to study the threads of discussion that have come before them. They think they’re contributing to the conversation, but they come off like anyone who jumps into a discussion without bothering to get filled in on what’s already been said — their thoughts are fragmentary, out-of-turn, needlessly repetitive, and lacking in context.

Getting “filled in” on the Great Conversation requires you to go back and read the ancient classics. For example, to understand any philosophers from the 18^th, 19^th, and 20^th centuries, you first have to achieve an understanding of the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle. No philosophy exists in a vacuum; rather, all philosophers have been having an extended conversation with each other for thousands of years, whether explicitly or implicitly. And the origin of this conversation traces back to ancient Athens. Once you’ve got this foundation down, from there you can see how successive philosophers have added, transformed, and rebutted what came out of that city-state. And then, at last, you can start making your own constructive contributions to the Great Conversation.”

*****

“Reading the classics can be hard. The texts often require you to gird up your intellectual loins if you really want to understand and comprehend them. But with that mental exertion comes a strengthening and disciplining of the mind that carries over to other aspects of your life.

One reason I read the classics is because they serve as my intellectual sharpening stone, keeping my mind keen and sharp.”


These are just two of the reasons given for taking up the study of classical thought. Check it out.

When Righteous Wrath Goes Bad

“They burned their own corn to set fire to the church; they smashed their own tools to smash it; any stick was good enough to beat it with, though it were the last stick of their own dismembered furniture. We do not admire, we hardly excuse, the fanatic who wrecks this world for love of the other. But what are we to say of the fanatic who wrecks this world out of hatred of the other?

And yet the thing hangs in the heavens unhurt. Its opponents only succeed in destroying all that they themselves justly hold dear. They do not destroy orthodoxy; they only destroy political and common sense.” 

- G.K. Chesterton, Chapter VIII of “Orthodoxy”

Chesterton is speaking here about the lengths some people will go to in order to attack the belief system of the traditional church, specifically Catholicism. There are individuals who begin by attacking the church (“orthodoxy”) for the sake of liberty or justice or some other ideal, but who eventually end up denying justice and liberty in order to attack the church. Their obsessive hatred leads them to sacrifice even their own ideals in order that they might destroy the object of their wrath.

I’ve noticed a parallel with this recently, but the object of wrath in this instance was not the Roman Catholic Church. Rather it was political conservatism.

Over the last couple of weeks I’ve seen posts and pictures defending the “right” of Muslim women in western nations to wear Burkas (veils). In each case these were put forward by individuals who, as far as I can tell, were fairly left-leaning politically. Now, one should find this surprising. People of leftist persuasion usually champion themselves as defenders of women’s rights, against the “conservative” and “old-fashioned” values of traditional western culture. Women should be fully independent of any sort of patriarchal system that would put limits on their personal/sexual/reproductive freedom, they argue.

Yet, in spite of this, they defend a cultural practice that is linked to the extreme denigration of women. There is perhaps no major religious/cultural force in the world that holds women in contempt more than that of Islam. How in the world can these people defend a woman’s “right” to be treated as a shameful object, a mere piece of property? I’ll tell you how. Because it’s a way to further oppose the political conservatism they hold in utter contempt. For the last couple of years Stephen Harper (cue the theme song for the Galactic Empire) and other conservative leaders and intellectuals have openly opposed some of the cultural practices of Islam. They have attempted to take steps to limit some of these practices. And of course, they’ve met opposition from individuals who, if anyone other than an evil conservative had put forward these motions, would back them fully in the name of women’s rights and freedoms.

It seems they are willing to sacrifice even their most cherished ideals, if only they might continue to oppose the greatest threat they see to humanity – political conservatism. At this point one begins to wonder, do they have any positive vision to offer the world? Is there no place that the two can meet and agree? Has the debate devolved into “whatever they stand for, I stand for the opposite?”…“Multiculturalism and women’s rights have clashed into one another and been found incompatible, now what do we do? We see what “side” the enemy takes, then oppose them because they are bad and wrong all the time. That’s what we do.” That’s the easy way to feel like a crusader for justice without having to do the hard work of figuring out just what justice really is.

Of course, I’m not ragging on all lefties. I am more right-leaning myself, but many individuals of the opposite political persuasion are genuinely nice, well-meaning people (though I still hold that they are mistaken about some of their views). The people I am intending to beat on, however, are the loudmouths with oppositional defiance disorder. That type of attitude destroys rational debate and leads to the dumbing down of public discourse.

I guess the lesson is that one should be careful not to fall into the same trap! The wise man must remind himself daily that he is never, ever above any particular fault – especially one in which he is emotionally invested (perhaps emotionally compromised is a better phrase). Don’t let your righteous anger become an unrighteous prejudice.

  

Good Reads: November 23rd

Mike Flynn on stem cells and (not so) mysterious media silence:

http://tofspot.blogspot.ca/2015/11/missing-inaction.html


Edward Feser on Papal Fallibility:
An often badly misunderstood topic. Feser provides an informative overview.

http://edwardfeser.blogspot.ca/2015/11/papal-fallibility.html

Malcolm Pollack on the Syrian Refugee Dilemma

http://malcolmpollack.com/2015/11/22/the-refugee-question-further-thoughts/

As always, the commentary on social media is of typical fashion. Either you are for immigration, peace, love, sharing, progressiveness and all that warm fuzzy stuff, OR you are labelled a cold-hearted, xenophobic, racist, ignorant hillbilly if you so much as question whether or not mass immigration from certain parts of the world is a good idea. Social media is garbage. Well, that's unfair I suppose. It's just a tool for individuals to share their thoughts. It's depressing to see the level of ignorance exhibited by a significant portion of the population, however. Anyway, I digress.

At this point I am undecided on the Syrian Refugee issue, but lean toward a more cautious approach and a limiting of immigration from that part of the world, largely for the reasons Pollack outlines in this post. My Christian commitments require a certain degree of charity, of course, but this charity must be guided by a consideration of the relevant goods involved - including those of the welfare of my home country and fellow countrymen, as well as the long term development of the culture in which I live. There never seem to be any easy answers!

I would like to think a better solution would involve bringing over orphaned children and finding them homes with Canadian and American families, or setting up some sort of relief program on foreign soil. But what do I know? Maybe those aren't workable solutions.

Universals and Realism: Plato’s Theory of Forms

While Plato’s Theory of Forms ultimately faces intractable problems, it raises interesting questions. Specifically, it is an excellent introduction to the idea of “universals.” What follows is a very condensed summary (skipping over certain bits and pieces) of the instructive outline Edward Feser presents in The Last Superstition.

Consider an object of our ordinary, everyday experience, like a triangle. Better yet, consider a set of triangles. Some are written on paper, some are displayed on a computer monitor, another one is written in the sand. Some are written in blue ink, some red, some are made up of black pixels, and the one written in the sand is just made up of the impressions left by someone’s finger. We call every one of these things “triangles”. Why? What do they have in common that warrants us classifying them all as the same, despite being different individual objects? In the case of triangles, it is the fact that they are closed-plane two-dimensional geometric figures made up of three straight lines. All of the aforementioned triangles, despite being different colours and sizes and being displayed on completely different mediums, have these essential features in common. Let us call that set of essential features “triangularity.” Each particular triangle instantiates (is an instance of, or represents) “triangularity.” That is what is common to each of those triangles, and it is why we label them all with the same name. Simple enough? Now this is where things get interesting.

Consider now how each particular triangle is going to have features that are not essential to triangularity. Being red or blue, big or small, written on paper or scrawled in sand - each of these is not a necessary part of triangularity. Each of these particular triangles will also be missing features that are an essential part of triangularity. The triangle drawn in the sand will likely have crooked lines and breaks in the figure. Even the triangles drawn on paper may have imperfectly closed corners or crooked lines. The triangle displayed on the monitor is likely to be the most perfect of all, but even it will not be comprised of truly straight lines, as closer inspection will always reveal imperfections (in this case due to the fact that the lines are actually comprised of pixels). Every physical triangle we ever encounter is going to have features that are not a part of triangularity, and is going to be missing features that are an essential part of triangularity.

What follows from this, according to Plato, is that whenever we grasp the essence or nature of triangularity, what we are grasping is not something material or physical. No particular physical triangle can actually be triangularity for the reasons outlined above. For example, let us consider a triangle drawn on paper with red ink. Is the colour red a necessary part of triangularity? Nope. Is being drawn on paper a necessary part of triangularity? Nope. Is the triangle going to be comprised of perfectly straight lines? Again, no. Any particular, physical triangle we consider cannot, in principle, actually be triangularity itself. Yet, if triangularity itself didn’t in some sense exist, then we would have no reason to consider all of those different objects as being similar in any way at all. “Triangularity” as an ideal must exist over and above any particular triangle in order for us to be able to relate and compare all of those objects to some common reality.

It follows, therefore, that triangularity not only must exist, but also that it cannot be material or physical. For if it were material or physical, then it would be a particular object in a particular place and time, and therefore could not have the universal applicability it does. Triangularity must be something immaterial. It is also what could be called a “universal”, as opposed to being particular. It is the “universal” that is instantiated by particular triangles, applying to each one of them universally but not being exactly the same as any particular one. Triangularity as we have just described it is what Plato would call a “Form.” Triangles are not the only things that instantiate forms. Trees, dogs, human beings, justice, virtue, etc., are all what they are insofar as they instantiate the form over and above the particular instance.

Plato’s Forms are not material. But their existence is not limited merely to the mental realm either. While we grasp them with our intellect, they have an existence that transcends our own. We don’t invent them - we discover them. The truths that flow from the essence of being a triangle (or a human being, dog, chemical compound, etc.) are what they are, and we cannot change them. We cannot one day decide that triangles will now have four sides while having all angles add up to 180 degrees. Logically impossible. We cannot decide that human beings will now have 56 chromosomes instead of 46. Even if we could create such a thing, it wouldn’t be the same species anymore, and therefore would be the instantiation of a different form. The forms existed before we did, and will exist after we’re gone.

So if these forms are not material, and if they are not merely mental, then what/where the hell are they? Plato situates them in a “third realm” of abstract objects. When we grasp the essence of anything – dogs, trees, justice, beauty, etc. – we are grasping something that is universal, extra-mental and immaterial. We are grasping the “form” of that thing. This third realm, being comprised entirely of immaterial objects, is essentially nowhere. Being somewhere implies spatial location, which implies a material presence (forms are immaterial) and being in a particular place at a particular time (forms are universal).

According to Plato, the forms, though beyond our mere senses (being grasped via the intellect), are more real than the material things which instantiate them. The form of the “good” has a unique and especially elevated place among the other forms. This is due to the fact that any particular instantiation of a form is going to be a better or worse one depending on how well it conforms to the ideal (Consider two triangles, for example. One drawn slowly and carefully, and one drawn quickly and sloppily. One will be a better triangle than the other.) The form of the good permeates everything in a certain sense. This is farther than we needed to go for my purposes, however. Enough said for now.

  

Plato’s theory faced objections (see the “Third Man Argument”), and was therefore refined and modified by subsequent thinkers. For philosophers like Aristotle, whose approach to the existence of universals is said to be much more “sober and down-to-earth,” there are no forms as Plato would understand them. Universals do not have an independent existence in a third realm. Rather they exist only in the things that instantiate them, and in the intellect that grasps them. Augustine held the view that the universals we grasp pre-exist in the mind of God. I suppose his view is somewhere between Aristotle’s and Plato’s; the forms do not have an independent existence of their own, but still exist outside of the things themselves and outside of our intellects – in the intellect of God. I am not all that familiar with the details of his view, however, so I won’t comment any further. Regardless, each one of them holds that the “forms” or “universals” we grasp with our intellect must have some sort of real existence. If they did not truly exist, then there would be nothing tying together the various objects of our experience. We would have no way to account for the fact that many different objects can in a certain sense be “one.” There would be no reason to call those objects “triangles”, “human beings”, etc., if there were not a universal that each particular object was instantiating.

I mentioned at the outset that the Theory of Forms is a good introduction to the idea of “universals.” Philosophers who believe that universals have a real existence (whether Platonic or otherwise) are called “Realists.” Those who deny the real existence of universals are called “Nominalists.” The line of reasoning involved here is foundational for many topics in philosophy. The intellectual activity of the mind – more specifically the use of propositions in logic and mathematics – is a phenomenon that many philosophers argue cannot be understood in terms of purely material operations. Mathematicians who take an interest in the philosophical underpinnings of their discipline often lean toward some version of Platonic Realism as well. Within the field of Ethics, an understanding of universals is one of the building blocks required for the Natural Law and Virtue Ethics theories of morality.

If you are going to study philosophy, even as nothing more than an amateur such as myself, you are best to start at the beginning! Understanding a conversation that has spanned millennia will be much easier if you start where at all started – with the Greeks. Only then will you get a grasp of what the philosophers of the middle ages were saying, and only then will the significance of the debates between moderns and the classical/scholastic philosophers be adequately appreciated.

  

Good Reads: November 14th

Plato and Louis C.K. - If Everything is Amazing, Why is Nobody Happy?

http://www.vqronline.org/essays-articles/2015/10/if-everything-so-amazing-whys-nobody-happy

Mike Flynn on Civilization and Sentimentality

http://tofspot.blogspot.ca/2015/10/the-rise-of-sentiment-and-fall-of.html

“The Good Life” vs. “A Good Life”

In “Philosophy for Dummies”, Tom Morris juxtaposes these two common phrases in order to get us thinking about what “good” really is. It’s a good place to start because it brings two separate ideas into sharp relief.

On the one hand, we have ‘the good life.’ What sorts of images are conjured up when we think of ‘the good life?’ Money. Pleasure. Fame. Fast Cars. Nice things. Comfort. The good life usually connotes material wealth. Contrast this, on the other hand, with what most people mean when they think of ‘a good life’. This phrase usually connotes a life lived in pursuit of something deeper. Family. Spirituality. Charity. The pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. Wisdom. A lasting, meaningful legacy of some sort. It is mostly this latter sense of “goodness” that those old timey philosophers were concerned with.

Aristotle, being a paradigmatic old timey philosopher, was especially interested in making an account of what a “good life” was all about. His approach was very influential in the western world for a very long time - and rightly so. Agree with him or not, you have to respect the man’s methodological approach to almost every topic he tackled. And as we’ll see, his approach to living a good life was in many ways different than ours tends to be.

Let us begin, then, as Aristotle begins.

For starters, Aristotle asks us to consider what is it we truly want from life. Is pleasure the highest good we can seek? Or perhaps fame? Power? Things of this sort, Aristotle argues, are means to further ends. Happiness is our ultimate aim. We seek happiness for its own sake, while we seek things like pleasure, fame and power because they can give us a happy life. So the highest good we are seeking is ultimately going to be some sort of happiness.

But just what is happiness? In order to answer this question, we must first understand what it means to be human. You cannot know what the good for a thing is unless you have some idea about what that thing is and what its purpose is. A good watch, for example, is one that reliably tells time. A good oak tree is one that successfully grows deep roots, gathers nutrients, and reproduces. A good squirrel is one that avoids predators, successfully gathers food, and produces lots of little baby squirrels. These watches, trees and squirrels are good because they are accomplishing what they were intended to accomplish.

In attempting to understand what our purpose is, Aristotle begins by considering our place in the cosmic order. We are animals. We share what he calls the “nutritive” (ex: eating, digesting, growing) and “perceptive” (ex: seeing, smelling, etc.) powers with other animals. What makes us unique, however, is our rationality. Unlike the other brutes, human beings grasp abstract concepts and use reason. We deduce conclusions from premises. If it weren’t for your rationality, the symbols that are scattered across your screen right now would be meaningless. It is because we have a shared understanding of what these symbols mean that they convey my meanings to you, and you understand them. You can accept or reject a philosopher’s reasoning only by exercising your own power of reason.

The highest and most distinctive feature of man, according to Aristotle, is his rationality. It is our defining feature, setting us apart from other animals. The function of man is “…the good and noble performance of our rational actions and activities.” The good for man, then, is behaving in a rational way. We are to pursue wisdom and to act on the knowledge we gain. This is the foundation for virtue as well. Being just, brave, prudent, and temperate is morally right because that is how we better live out our purpose as human beings. Living in this way, we will find true happiness – what Aristotle calls “Eudaimonia.” This is not a mere fleeting feeling of happiness, but something deeper and more lasting.

Tom Morris summarizes Aristotle’s idea of Eudaimonia thus:

“Aristotelians think of happiness as more like an activity, or a process of participation in something that brings fulfillment. Genuine happiness is a byproduct of living in a way that is supportive of human flourishing. It is tied to excellence. Happiness comes from discovering who you are, developing your distinctive talents, and putting those talents to work for the benefit of others as well as yourself.”

Happiness is tied to excellence. From this point we can more clearly distinguish between how the ancient philosophers viewed morality and how many of us moderns tend to view it. Rules and consequences are what we usually think of when we think of “morals.” Those annoying rules that often stand between us and what it is we really want. Too often we set up some inferior good as our highest good – money, power, sex, whatever – and find the moral rules holding us back from taking what we want. We are torn between our obligation to be “good people” and our desire to “have it all.”

That is a grave mistake. True and lasting happiness can be found only in the pursuit of Eudaimonia. Here, morality and the good life are one and the same. There is a unity of purpose, a sort of simple beauty in the classical approach. Virtue leads to fulfillment, and this fulfillment in turn makes virtue easier. The truly good man, Aristotle says, finds virtuous acts pleasurable in and of themselves. His joy flows from living a good and just life. You can lose wealth, you can lose your good looks and your fame and all other goods, but no one can ever take away your freedom to choose a life of virtue.