“Ave, Jeff Bezos, morituri te salutant!”

Bezos.

bez0-008I’ve been thinking about Jeff Bezos this week, in part, because I was also trying to teach about Plato’s Philosopher Kings.

Bezos, for those of you who don’t know, is an evil Sith Lord ruling an all-powerful empire bent on destroying anything that is beautiful and of value to us.

No, of course not. He is, however, the founder and CEO of Amazon.
What he managed to do was found a company which could take advantage of the strength of the internet—ease of ordering, convenience—and couple that with the ability to manage a huge amount of inventory—including inventory he did not actually have to  possess or control—and the new possibilities of rapid shipping. By coordinating all of these parts better than anybody had managed before him, and by using the volume and the lack of actual inventory to keep costs incredibly low, and by coupling these with amazingly good customer service, he managed to build an unequaled on-line bookstore, and then a larger on-line market place, and become the first realistic leader in the electronic book business—a business which played to Amazon’s strengths, eliminating the problems of delivery and inventory, but adding the challenge of actually having to design, build, and maintain a physical product: the kindle.

This is a charitable interpretation, but, I think, an accurate one.

I’ve been a book customer since before I can remember.Shakespeare & Co stairs
I’ve worked in several book stores.
I want to disdain Mr. Bezos, because Amazon is driving bookstores out of business.

But I can’t; he is getting books to people—either electronically or in the mail—with great efficiency, and at a lower cost. How are we to fault that?
Besides, he can get me stuff nobody else can, and Wow! Does Amazon have great customer service!

As I said, I’ve been teaching a seminar class on Plato’s Republic, his utopian vision where decisions are made for us by wise, benevolent rulers.
So, perhaps, we should allow businesses to be dominated by those wise folks who can figure out how to make it work better, how to make it work best, and let them do what they do best. Bezos is sharp, he has read the market well, he offers a quality service, and he does something that is dear to my heart: he gets the written word to people.

However, in doing so, he has forever changed the business of books.

BooksThere are unintended consequences to any series of choices, but with a shift of this magnitude there will be even greater consequences.
We no longer browse shelves in the way we used to—there is no longer the serendipitous moment when we  pick up a random book because it strikes our fancy, and begin to leaf through it. Sure, we can find new books on-line, perhaps even sample some pages, but it is harder to get captured in the ruffling of pages that brings us to a sentence or story that captivates us.
There still can be folks to discuss and recommend books—chat rooms, recommendations, posts, etc.—but these are read in the same way the sample is read: not with the enthusiasm of a flesh & blood human being handing us a book and saying “You have to read Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni!” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msy1ctlRh4Q) I have a friend who actually remembers the names of booksellers at a local Indie and looks for recommendations from her favorites. This is the kind of interaction a local brick & mortar store can give. I have seen it happen on-line as well, but I still think it happens best face to face.

Furthermore, Amazon is primarily a distribution company, and because of its success has been able to dominate the companies which actually produce the product, companies which have greater risk in accumulating inventory, and greater expenses up front. Although Amazon has taken its toll on chain booksellers like Borders (rest in peace) and Barnes & Noble (bless their hearts)—as they, in turn, wiped out smaller bookstores, its greater long term impact—as well as the impact of the move to digital books in general—will be upon publishers, because this will affect the way books are actually produced, eliminating editors and other ways of cultivating talent.

The greatest danger, however, might be one inherent to success and centralization: pb 001markets dominated by a single or even just a few corporations are unwieldy and unstable.  Having the decisions about the future of an entire industry made in one or two board rooms—whether Amazon or Monsanto—is not very different from having decisions made by a centralized Politburo committee.
Freedom aside, a corporation as big as Amazon cannot turn on a dime. It would be nice if those leaders were self-less, all-wise philosopher kings who were capable of making good choices, but they are humans, like we are, and it is hard to judge the unintended consequences of the decisions they make. Unlike the humans who are actually interacting with local customers daily, and have small enough operations to make changes, corporations change slowly, and react slowly.

What can we do?
Well, support alternatives!
Buy local.
If you have to choose, buy regional, since they are more likely to be in touch with the local economy, and with local producers.
Buy Indie.

Independent booksellers and food producers are outside of the decision making process of the corporations, although they are still influenced by it. They are closer to you, and able to adjust their courses based upon what is happening “on the ground” rather than having to wait for decisions from a detached board room. They are also more likely to cultivate diversity, leaving room on their shelves (or in their fields) for genetic variation, so that we won’t just be stuck with pasty golden delicious apples and 50 Shades of Gray.

So buy local. Drop by CSAs like Trosley Farm or a road-side produce vendor.
Share a local microbrew at a local restaurant like The Acoustic Coffeehouse or the Philosophy Bistro.
If you can’t find what you need locally, find an independent dealer like Malaprop’s Bookstore not too far away, or find an independent business on-line like Glynne’s Soaps and use Amazon’s tools against him.live local live grand 10.3

Sensuality, continued.

We Americans are a rather hedonistic culture, placing a high value upon comfort and pleasure.
The sad thing is, we are not very good at it.
We are not very good at being hedonistic, because we really don’t understand how to use our senses.

Any trip to most American restaurant will prove my point—there are huge servings, and way too much salt, fat, and sugar, but there isn’t really that much sensual pleasure to be had. We have made gluttony a national past-time and, at the same time, a chore. In fact, the reason we need so much sauce (besides the low quality of the ingredients—Damn you food industrial complex! Damn you to hell!….Wode-Toad-color-miffed.jpg

                                                ***SLAP!***

But I digress. Thank you, Wode Toad.

The reason we need so much sauce is that we don’t really taste our food. We don’t take the time to find out what the flavor of each item is. We allow our food, our music, our body washes (Thanx, Axe), our entertainment, our sensual experiences (Thanks, 50 Shades) to be over-blown and way too loud, going for quantity, but not enjoying the full array of sensations each moment can bring us.

Among the problems is that we put so much priority upon sight and sound—the least intimate of all sensations—have we barely are aware of the wide variety of input of our other senses.

I already talked a bit about taste in the recipe section, but what of the others?

Step outside. Feel the sun on your face. Close your eyes, and feel the sunlight soal into you as if you are absorbing it, the way a tomato does. Breathe in, and try to figure out how many smells there are in each breath. Dogs absorb most of their information through smell, whereas we tend to ignore this sense entirely. Is there fresh mowed grass? The early browning of tree leaves? New flowers? The roads and sidewalks baking through the afternoon sun?
Or just exhaust and different cigarettes? Can you smell the different smells of the city? At a distance, even unpleasant smells can be interesting—the faint smell of skunk on a summer night is one of the smells in very good coffee.
Speaking of that, how do you drink coffee? Do you feel the warmth of the cup in your hands, look at the rainbow-mottled surface of the liquid (of course there is oil, ya’ mook! Essential oils provide most of the flavors we enjoy), add sugar, and feel it as you drink it—each cup involves taste and smell and sight and feel.

Stretch.
Take a moment and feel different muscles tighten and untighten as you stretch. Tense and relax, and feel your body.
At work, take a hop and then break into a run; feel your legs stretching beneath you as you dash.
Jump up under a tree, grab a branch, and pull yourself up; you will be aware of each part of your body as your feet hunt for new footholds and your hands swing across branches amd you taste and smell each leaf and bark.

Dance! Throw yourself into wide, wild abandon as you feel the rhythm pounding through your body, and your boots against the floor.

A few words about politeness

4 Cavaillon to Gordes (12)On our recent trip to Europe, we were surprised again and again by how helpful most of the people we encountered were. Yes, since you asked, even the French. In fact, some folks at the information desk in Cavaillon went about of their way to help us get the bicycles we needed to travel to Gordes (as was the artist in Gordes whose floor I woke up on after a black-out, but that is another story).

A notable quality of European politeness, however, is that they don’t seem to feel it is necessary to smile at you constantly. At first, many of the people I encountered seemed to be scowling, but they were merely concentrating on what I was saying and trying to figure out if they could be of help. It is ironic that it took me a while to figure this out, since I tend to look a bit dark if I am concentrating, perhaps even hostile. But even total strangers who had no obvious reason to do so were friendly and helpful–even people in Paris were kind and patient with us.

But not cheerful in the way we are expected to be here in the States.

I recently discovered a very obscure 18th Century English thinker named Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 3rd Earl of Shaftesbury (1671 – 1713). I knew his Grandfather, also named Anthony Ashley-Cooper, who was a brilliant man, a lively conversationalist, a marvelous political player–although it almost cost him his head to James II–and who kept a very good table. He was also the patron of the philosopher John Locke, whom he also engaged as a tutor to his grandson.

The 2nd Earl, son of the 1st and father of the 2nd, was a git of the highest order.

Anthony_Ashley_Cooper,_3__Earl_of_ShaftesburyThe Third Earl, however, was an influential and, in  his day, well thought of thinker. Most of the thinkers we associate with what we call Moral Sentiments were influenced by him. Among his claims was the observation that we–human beings, that is–seem to have an innate (sorry, Mr. Locke) tendency towards being kind to others. Contrary to thinkers such as Hobbes or Calvin who tend to take a rather dim view of human nature, Shaftesbury observed that we do have a tendency to help others–much as that wide variety of friends and strangers helped me on my recent trip.
His idea–and this seems insightful–was that it quite simply makes us happy to make other people happy. He coined a term–borrowing it from a jewelers term for the brightness or polish of a gem, and called this politeness. For him, politeness was about structured acts of kindness towards others, not about the snobbish pretensions of court etiquette or the dull, rote, empty obligations of church virtue, but a joyful giving of oneself, and of caring.

This seems true.
This seems to be a really important insight into human nature. We take pleasure in making a baby laugh, or a kitten purr, or a dog happy. We enjoy giving presents to others, and watching their faces light up when we give them something we know they will like. When we help somebody jump-start a dead battery or change a tire, we often feel good for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, like all pleasures, it is not enough; we grow tired of it, and look for other pleasures.315signature

Allotment Gardens

For those of you who do not know, I’ve just returned from 4 weeks of riding the rails through Europe.
Lake District- Hunting for Angus (edit)I am certain that I will have a lot to write about in the coming week, and I will try not to madden you with jealousy, or bore you to tears.

Along the railroad tracks in Austria, Germany, Switzerland, France, and the British Isles, one can spot small gardens. Imagine the grassy area, like a median, between a county road and the railroad track–maybe 12 or so feet before the gravelly slope of the railroad embankment. Now, imagine that area subdivided into little parcels, maybe 20 feet wide. Now, imagine those areas enclosed, en-fenced, and planted with well-tended gardens, and maybe even with an outbuilding. This is an allotment garden.

Allotment gardensAs Europe became increasingly industrialized, this little gardens began springing up. Many Europeans live in large cities with little garden space, or even in apartments with no garden space, sometimes without even lawns that they can actually walk on. Although there are parks, and even wonderful forests and fells to hike in, there are many people who still feel a need to have land of their own. I don’t think it is as much about owning the land (they often do not), as it is about having a little corner that they can tend, that they can grow something upon. You often see them on the weekends, working and then sitting or staying over in the little sheds. Sometimes, they will even invite friends out to their little domains to share wine and eat al fresco.
The part that struck me over and over again was the pride with which this tiny little parcels were cared for and decorated–yes, Virginia, there were garden gnomes. Since I really do not enjoy gardening–it is like housework, but dirtier and hotter, and I am really uncomfortable at the idea of permanent ownership, especially of land–this feeling is alien to me, but perhaps those of you who could imagine the desire for a tiny little farm (or even tending tiny little sheep) could try to explain it to me. However, I do believe that there is something about being human that makes us want to have our little piece of nature and of life to tend and to take care of. I don’t know if this is in spite of or as a result of our increasingly artificial and detached relationship with the natural world and with our food sources.

Either way, it seems like a lovely idea.801signature

Guys: Let’s be Men!

My Dresser My dearest Meg,

I’m not sure if you remember, but a while back there was a day we had a series of conversations, in which the phrase “Because he’s a boy” kept coming up. An example I recall was you wondering why in the world anybody would try to open a banana with a 10 inch butcher knife, and me explaining “because he’s a boy” (luckily, a boy with 10 fingers, for the time being).

Boys do silly, fun and sometimes dangerous things. It is part of being a boy. It is perplexing if you have never been one, but what are you going to do?

wode toad

ahem!

However, at some point, being a boy should stop—well, unless you are the one boy who never grows up; Peter Pan can be grand-fathered in, I suppose. Although if he never grows up, is the word grandfather appropriate?

As I was saying, at some point, being a boy should stop—or at the very least, diminish. In the greater life-cycle of the male of the species—we will use the generic term “guy’—there should at some point be a transition from boy to man. Yet, there seems to be a marked trend at the present away from this, and towards a prolonged male adolescence. Guys who are way past the point where they should have become adults are still being boys. It has even spawned a whole movie genre which the New York Times likes to call the “Man Child.” It appears to be making Judd Apatow rich. Of course, the target audience for these movies is guys in their 20s who themselves do not want to grow up. It can even extend to middle aged men with movies like Grown Ups. I’m not entirely sure it is possible to produce a comedy in which the men are not immature.

The whole thing mystifies me.

SupermanDon’t get me wrong: I did enjoy being a boy, and was quite good at it (I have the stories, some of which you have heard, and the scars to prove it). Nevertheless, I remember looking forward to being a man. I wanted to be a man (OK, to be honest, I wanted to be a man, 36, and tenured, but that might just be me). A big part of it, though, was that my heroes were men. My movie heroes—John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart, Gregory Peck, Paul Newman, Robert Redford, etc.—were all men, even, what you might call “real men.”
Movie heroes, however, aren’t as vivid as flesh and blood heroes. My biggest reason for wanting to be a man was that the men in my life made it look so cool. My uncles were (and remain) people I wanted to be like. My grandfathers were both really great to spend time with. Watching Dad engaged in after dinner conversation with other men—Beautiful LivingFred Norris, Scott Bartchy, and the occasional passer through like Bob Wetzel or Bob Fife—was fascinating, and more entertaining than anything we boys did.
My father made being a man look brilliant and incredible.
He still does.
My goal was to be like him.
It still is.

 

Although being a boy was fun, I didn’t want to be a boy indefinitely.
I wanted to grow up and be a man.

I’m not sure at what point it became more appealing for guys to be boys rather than becoming men. Certainly by the time The Simpsons (which I love) came around, it was clear that it was cooler to be Bart than to be Homer (also more fun to be naughty, but that is another day’s column). But this shift is an alarming trend, and must be stopped before the entire world is populated by Adam Sandler wannabes.
Now, it won’t do for me to just say: Hey! Grow up! I should give some reasons why to be a man.

First (and this is a universal guy reason for doing things): Chicks dig it.
Although there is something charming about a man who can be a boy, there is nothing at all appealing about a 200 pound little boy.
If they are trying to impress someone, especially if they are hoping for any kind of relationship, maturity is a real draw and immaturity is a real turn-off, don’t you think? And you might be the kind of person a guy might want to impress.
Related to this, by the way, a suit and a tie are much sexier than a ratty sweatshirt, baggy shorts, and a backwards baseball cap.
Also more appropriate for church, the theatre, or a date.
Don’t get me started on Man-Child wardrobes, but do let me warm the guys who are reading this to take off your hat in the Bistro; Wode Toad has a really long tongue.

Secondly: Responsibility.
Yes, I know that this is a scary word, and it is probably why these boys are avoiding growing up in the first place, but think about it: responsibility is a part of freedom. It is the price one pays for getting out of footed pajamas and the high chair and joining the adult world. As an analogy, getting a car means having a lot of freedom to go places, but it also means suddenly have a lot of responsibilities which keep it running. Being a grown-up is similar; it gives you new freedoms to go places, but it has its costs.
Being a man means taking responsibility for yourself and for others; it’s what men do. This may seem rather dull at the least and terrifying at the worst, but it has its perks.

Third: Fun.Dad and Bitsy
Again, these boys probably are avoiding growing up because it doesn’t seem to be fun, but one can be a man and still be as playful as when one was a boy.
My father can be a very dignified gentleman. He also once spent a half an hour on his hands and knees in the kitchen entertaining a 2 year old by making zucchini and summer squash dance and run around.
My uncle Dale is quite manly—even to the point of flying planes and working lumber in the Northwest—but is also sillier than any giggling little boy I know. He is also a world-class imaginary jacks player (personally, imaginary table tennis is more my style, mostly because it is noisier). Certainly he has more fun than most of the knuckle dragging college boys I see mumbling through the streets, slouching towards Numan’s Cafe & Sports Bar. Read Brandon’s Articles on playfulness–he is more fun because he is responsible for the girls, not less.
Men still play basketball, still yell at games, still play games, go on road trips (my Dad circumnavigates the globe, your dad flies his own plane), camp, kayak—you name it.

Finally, and most importantly for me: Pride.
grow some miniThis is why I would not be able to abide being a permanent boy. Whenever I see one of these immature guys, I want to yell: where is your pride, man? It’s humiliating! To be a man is to take responsibility for who you are and what you do and to be able to look upon both of those and take pride in them. It is taking responsibility for others that you care about, or for commitments you have made, and taking pride in them. What does the overgrown boy have to take pride in? High Scores on their games? Their Graphic Novel collection? OK, that’s not so bad, but remember: by playing and by reading one is pretending to be somebody one can take pride in; by being a man they could actually be that person.

I don’t accept that boys will be boys; boys are meant to become men.
Take pride in yourself and grow up. Be a Man!

So, that is why one should be a man, but the bigger question, is: How does one go about being a man?
Of course, it goes without saying that mistreating women is cowardly and un-manly, and that being a man of quality also means treating children and animals kindly, but there are so many other practices involved in being a man…

Please greet Richard from me, Meg, and wish him a Happy Father’s Day.
For the rest of you: a home cooked meal is the best thing for Dad (well, second to sailing), but if that doesn’t seem practical, remember that a hand-written note is always appropriate, if not that—would it kill you to call? If nothing else, feel free to bring the great man to Robert’s Philosophy Bistro.315signature

Biology, Community, and Identity

Community & Individuals, part 2

Roan Mountain Walk 022In discussions of human nature, one of the central questions that soon appears is how much of who we are is determined by our biology, our genetic code, how our brains, nerves, & bodies are wired, and how much of it is shaped by our culture, the deliberate and accidental conditioning of our upbringing, the communities to which we belong?

To borrow a phrase I heard our mutual friend Mike use, “It’s a ‘both/and’ sort of thing, not an ‘either/or’ sort of thing.”

Although my area of research is much more focused upon the cultural community social side, I cannot deny that it is closely tied to, even dependent upon, a hard-wiring that makes us capable of being adapted by our environment. Our genetic heritage also seems to make us pre-programmed to live together with others. By nature, we have a long developmental period, which leaves us dependent upon others. Most of the evidence suggests that we have an inborn drive towards interaction with others; we are pulled to nurture and to be nurtured. We are naturally drawn to others like us, and pulled towards living in community. With the exception of some unusual conditions causing sociopathy or developmental delays or other issues, we are capable of empathy and language.
Although we have capabilities for interacting with our world, most of the tools we humans have to make sense of it are derived from our community. Even those that aren’t—those fundamental categories such as time, space, motion, color, cause & effect—these are all skewed and adjusted to fit the tools our community gives us, as well as to meet the need our community presents us with.

Since thinkers first started looking at human nature through the theoretical tool of evolution, the relationship between the individual and their community has proved difficult to deal with. While clearly humans survive as individuals to pass on their DNA to the next generation, is our survival as a species more due to our persistence in groups, much like the survival of other social animals like ants, bees, and termites?

We are, as Aristotle said, sociable creatures, and we areHipsters in Washington Heights drawn to the society of others. That is our genetics, our conditioning, and our habit. However, as Kant pointed out, we are troubled by a human nature marked by “an unsociable sociability;” we want to be with others, but we also want to be alone. As a species, we seem to be designed with an inner dichotomy of occasionally conflicting ends: we are individuals with individual needs, pleasures and desires, and, as a species, we are also communal, needing to be part of a community’s needs.

It’s not even really a “both/and thing;” it is a both/and & more thing.
Persons and groups are constantly engaged, constantly influencing and changing each other. Individuals and communities are in constant conversation, sometimes in a open dialogue allowing both to flourish, sometimes one of control and resistance, mostly somewhere in between. However, just as a community is always more than just a conglomeration of its parts, an individual is always more than just a member of a community.

Since the 80s—ironically, as a pathological individualist in one of the most individualistic decades imaginable—I have been a researcher of, a theorist of, an advocate for, and a member of communities. It seems to me after the isolation, individualism, selfishness, lost-ness and fragmentation of the last few decades, I see many more people moving towards living in community—either accidental communities or intentional communities.

However, as my last post indicated, my 25 years of experimentation have left me uncertain of community as an end in itself. Theoretically, human needs are rather similar and consistent, and forming communities within which these needs are satisfied,
allowing, as my friend Jeffery Nicholas puts it “human flourishing.” However, in practice, humans in groups large or small seem much more complex, and we might consider more flexible social groupings.

It seems to me, instead of being deeply bound to community, instead we have moved towards an individualistic serial sociality, where we connect ourselves to the orbit of a community for extended periods of time, form bonds and relationships, work together towards common goals, but then can shift or even move on. We are not monadic, but we remain nomadic. I think that 25 years ago, I would have critiqued this trend as just another form of individualism—which it is—or as boutique communitarianism or niche tribalism—which it can easily become. I think, however, that serial sociality does satisfy our basic human needs to be part of a group without compromising our own individuality. It also prevents the insularity of belonging to a group and the tendencies to start dealing with other humans through the dualist lens of us and them.

Greenleaf, NYCHealthy socialities form just as easily at workplaces, coffee shops, bars and on the trail as they do in colleges, churches, families, and intentional communities. One might argue that they are not as nurturing or as stable as groups that have a stronger commitment to each other, but I’m not sure that is the case; a bar is as likely to take up an offering for a member in the hospital as a church is.

I have no doubt we need each other; the question is: how?

Communities and Individuals

My Dear Ben,

Yes, Modern Individualism has its problems. It has made us more self-centered. It has made us less connected to others, maybe even colder towards others. It is possible that, as your question suggested this focus upon ourselves has given us a “decreased threshold for discomfort, pain and suffering.”
It seems to me the implied part of your question is to move away from our “increased individualism,” and towards an increased emphasis upon community. Well, community is good, more or less, but it can have its flaws as well.
The individual culture we have produced…

Wait a minute: are we actually individualist? We are such a mass consumer culture marked by group trends and fads that we are constantly conforming to, so much pressure to be part of a group, are we really all that individualistic?WT-black-white-blue2.jpg

ahem.

Sorry, Wode Toad. You’re right; I’m getting off track.

The individual culture we have produced has its flaws, and might have made us more self-centered, perhaps even selfish, but individualism has its strengths as well, especially for those of us who are individuals.

By this, of course, I mean all of us.

There is a core to each of us, something that is our self, which lies outside of the embrace of the community, even outside of the formative powers of our social environment.
If community really does shape us, then why is it that so many of us fit so abysmally into those communities?

I’m thinking of a young man I know who was raised in the verdant fields of the American mid-west, part of an extended family, an active participant in his schools, member—an active member—of his community of faith. He grows up trying very hard to be a part of this community, and working to do what the community needs. He is committed to the values and goals of his community—family, God, soybeans, heaven—whatever it is that Midwesterners believe in.
Yet he still might, and did, grown up to be someone the community has at every step actively worked towards preventing him from becoming. That core within him that can’t quite be explained by genes or environment finds itself attracted to other men, and by the disconnect, the psychic pain, he is aware of two things: the power that the community exerts over him, and the resistance of his own individuality that can not conform to the demands of that power.

So, what am I to say to him?

Should I extol the virtues of community and preach the moral bankruptcy of modern individualism?

What should I say to the High School student whose teachers discipline her when she colors her hair or whose classmates taunt her when she wears black finger-less gloves? Should I talk to her about the nurturing power of community?

What should I say to the 13-year-old Afghan girl whose family sells her to be the wife of a 70-year-old man from the neighboring village? Should I talk to her about how our identity is derived from the community that raised us? Should I talk to her about ubuntu, and how “I am because we are?”

Given the choice between Sartre’s and De Beauvoir’s individualism on the one hand and MacIntyre’s and Hauerwas’ (or Pope Benedict’s) communitarianism on the other, which should I recommend to any of these human beings? Philosophies that say choose who you want to be, but accept the full responsibility for your choices, or philosophies that say find your value within the community?
I would most certainly say read Sartre. Read Nietzsche if it gives you strength. Read Thoreau. Read Virginia Woolf and find a room of your own. Read Carol Gilligan or bell hooks and find a voice of your own.

I would say that Socrates should have left Athens before his noble community killed him, even if that meant facing the world alone.

Turing, Touring, Turn, Turn, Turn.

One of the most important ideas of the 20th Century came from a rather odd but terribly brilliant man, the Cambridge Mathematician and Philosopher Alan Turing.WT brownies2

Normally, I would spend a few minutes telling you stories about Turing, but Wode Toad is holding a tray of brownies with peanut butter cream frosting hostage. (Thanks, Jodie—we stand in awe to your magical skills. The lemon bars last month were great, too)

The problem this mathematician was facing was how to design a machine that could answer your mathematical questions. His solution was to rethink the problem. Most of us would have thought of trying to program answers into the machine, so that you had a huge number of answers like “2+2=4.”
The problem is that the amount of information to be programmed in is not just huge, it’s prohibitive.

TuringIn a paper “On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungs problem,” Turing rethought the problem. Imagine a movable machine and a long line of squares laid out on paper strip. We call this imaginary device a Turing Machine. Put the machine at the second square, and teach it that “+2” mean to travel two squares, which put it at the fourth. Put another way, what the machine needs to know is not that “2+2=4,” but that if it is on second and somebody yells “Plus Two!” it needs to hustle two spaces, which puts it on the four.
If, instead of the infinite line of squares, we can allow the machine to have an astronomically high number of binary combinations, we have the basis of modern computing.

The key here is this: don’t think of the machine as knowing an infinite amount of little things; it only needs to know one thing, one very important thing.
It needs to know what to do next.

At roughly the same time and the same place, the philosopher WittgensteinLudwig Wittgenstein applied a similar idea to how language works. Languages are not logical representational structures; to use a language is to understand that when Wode Toad mutters “Order Up,” my response should be to finish the presentation (he ignores that) and get it to one of our guests.
What I need to know is what to do next.

This week, I have discovered that this fundamental question seems to be vexing a large number of my close friends, and the Bistro’s staff and patrons, and seems to be at the core of my own perplexity. What to do next?

Passage DifficileOur world keeps changing, and all the plans and dreams we thought we have keep shifting. Everybody I know seems to be either at the beginning of adulthood looking for how to start or in the middle looking to start anew. The ground beneath our feet, the markets and workplaces, even the professions themselves seem to be at least shifting, and possibly evaporating. This next week, a brand new crop of graduates will be cast out into the world (geworfenheit, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth).
The challenge is knowing what to do next.

We are all in the uncomfortable position of knowing we must move, Shakespeare & Co stairsbut not knowing to where. We found ourselves thrown, but are still figuring out where to go, perhaps even still spinning and trying to figure out which direction to stand up. If we knew what we wanted, we might be able to figure out how to get there, but we don’t even know that.

At this point in my weekly entrée, I wish I had an answer to neatly tie this up, serve you dessert and coffee, and send you back into the night like the proverbial existentialist sparrow.

I wish I did.

I do not.

At best, I have two observations.

Remember that there is the dream and there is the plan.
The dream is not the plan, but may shape it. Since the plan may or may not fail, you had might as well make the dream big. The dream will tell you what you want, so don’t be a Jeff-says-I-can’t with your dreams. Plans will always be cut down to size by the actual circumstances, reality will force you to improvise, so don’t begin by cutting the dream down to size.
Let it be grand and glorious and very much you.

You don’t need to have figured out everything, just what to do next.

…and if you can’t figure out what’s next, sometimes if you just start you will figure out where you are going before you get there.
It’s how I got to the Philosophy Bistro.

We don’t know how Wode Toad got here; I think he is a fugitive from something, but is quite vague. He also denies having manipulated the Asian currency markets, whatever that means.

Myself, I haven’t figuredRoan Mountain Walk 013 out the next step. I seem to have become boxed in a dead-end, or rather trapped like a wolf in a pit. So, I have decided to take a step back. This summer, I will be backtracking to the city I lived in for a big chunk of the 70s, Tübingen in Germany. Once upon a time, I assumed that I would either live there or in New York or London. Maybe the open road will give me an idea of where I am going before I get there.

One dream I have accomplished though, I managed to become who I 44signatuream, and I have had the good luck to be,  your affectionate friend,

What to do with Eggheads

My Dearest Jerri,
intellect 1Thank you for your question; I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get around to answering it. I got so many great questions to start (although I seem to be running out) that it took me a while to sort through them. If I recall (or, of course, if I can call it up on-line—do folks still recall?), you asked why American culture vilifies intelligence and critical thinking.

My answer would be: Well, it does and it doesn’t.

If Wode Toad were here rather than on a spring trip gigging rednecks in Kentucky (Shine the light right in his eyes!), he might point out that this kind of ambiguity is one of the many reasons why, since America prefers simple answers rather than a complex sic et non.

I mean, we don’t villify intelligence to any extreme—you guys live most days without a mob of villagers with torches & pitchforks showing up on your lawn, as do bright, intelligent people like Jeff & Debbie who live 3 blocks from you, or I, who live 4 blocks east of you, or all the Banks family scattered south of you and north by the river.

Sorry. I guess I’ve given those mobs a fixed location; sorry about that. Hope they don’t show up during Doctor Who, or you’ll hurt them.

On the whole though, people aren’t bothered by intelligence or intellectual pursuits. When I tell people that I have a PhD in Philosophy, they find it a curious oddity, much like the news that my brother-in-law regenerated his wisdom teeth or that my great-aunt used to dress up like Liberace.

We are a democracy, and we like to think of ourselves as a fairly egalitarian society. We tend to feel that any attempt to “rise above” seems a bit “elitist,” and we tend to mistrust it (unless, of course, it makes money; then it’s OK). The problem with smart people is we fear that they are smarter than we. Even if, on some occasions, as in the case of William F. Buckley, Jr., or Adlai Stevenson, we do let the best and the brightest shine, on the whole we dislike it when other people flaunt their intelligence at us. We prefer to let really bright, well-educated people like Bill Clinton or George W. Bush be folksy and talk with accents, rather than showing off their educations.

Our current culture is also driven by the market place, and with most markets it is best to appeal to the lowest common denominator. That explains a great deal about the current crop of idiot comedies and half-hazard action flicks at the movies, as well as most of the dreck on television.
On a recent Friday night, Wode Toad & I were walking around downtown Johnson City, Tn. We were watching the University kids having a good time with their drinking, smoking, carrying on, music and karaoke (two unrelated endeavors apparently), and other forms of fun, and Toady asked me:  “Why shouldn’t America be anti-intellectual?  The lights, the music, the people, the fun, the drinks? Why should we need a world of ideas as well?”

Of course, there also remains the basic problem that we dislike having our comfortable assumptions called into question. I don’t even, and I live in a state of gray ambiguity; I’m sure that folks with easy, casual certainties don’t.
Classical Athens prized intelligence and critical thinking—hey! It was dedicatedPassage Difficile to the goddess of wisdom—but it still killed Socrates. Renaissance Italy tortured Galileo. John Locke fled Enlightenment England for the relative safety of Holland. Spinoza died penniless and ostracized outside of Amsterdam (his unconventional notion of the divine was a little too radical even for the Dutch). Enlightenment France imprisoned Voltaire. America prefers isolating them to hurting them.
Cognitive dissonance is discomfiting—humans dislike being presented with ideas which conflict with our self-evident truths—and we prefer to isolate or eliminate those who cause it.

Women who think are, of course, even scarier….

Mostly, though, I am not sure that American culture knows what to do with thinking, and so it is made a little uncomfortable with it. At the time of our beginnings, the “Old World” (Europe) prided itself on the fiction that it was their culture–their high culture, art , literature, & intellect–that made them superior. We have preferred authenticity to culture. This is a false dichotomy, but a simple, useful, and persistent one. Living with this self-view, we have never quite been able to figure out what to do with thinking, especially not with thinking for its own sake, or even with smart people who seem to want to think about things which are out of the ordinary.
Intelligence and critical thinking seem harmless enough, but is there any possible use for it? It there any real place for it? In the past, we sort of set aside places in libraries and universities and New York and San Francisco, but now that all of us have a role in supporting and building our culture (not just Carnegies, Vanderbilts and Rockefellers), it is hard to see what to do with thought. It can’t be quite as entertaining for most people as, say Music or Theatre (well, it can be the way I do it, but generally).

However, what that leaves us with is an indifference to intelligence. This indifference can at times be stifling, almost as harsh as vilification. Intelligence and critical thinking don’t seem require much in terms of resources or special equipment, so we can still practice them in the face of vilification (your term) or stifling indifference (my prefered term). One would think that we can practice them alone, but that simply isn’t the case. I think that is because using intelligence and practical reason does require a place, and does require some sort of conversation. On this level, indifference limits intelligence as well.
On the other side, the academics have done as much harm to intelligence by limiting this conversation to small places and specialized jargon as those who are openly hostile to it. You and I both know that we have met folks who are incredibly intelligent, yet who haven’t even gone to or haven’t finished college. These friends make us smarter when we have intelligent conversations with them.
Perhaps it would be best not to focus upon getting our culture to provide a place for thinking, but instead to try to figure out just how much we need it, which is the same as figuring out what we don’t know. Although we have explored huge swaths of our planet, and have even taken pictures of space, we are left with an infinity still to explore, a mountain of problems still to be solved, and so much to still figure out—in the words of Kris Kristofferson (or Dr. Seuss or Dr. Pangloss—one of them) “lots of pretty thoughts that I ain’t thunk.”

Regardless of who else cares, as the thinkers of the past did, we must talk together (or write to one another), and reason together, and think critically together. Whether there is a public space for it or not, whether we are vilified or not, thoughts are free.418signature

Die Gedanken Sind Frei, my thoughts freely flower ;
Die Gedanken Sind Frei, my thoughts give me power .
No scholar can map them;
no hunter can trap them
No man can deny, Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
No man can deny, Die Gedanken Sind Frei!

I think as I please and this gives me pleasure;
My conscience decrees this right I must treasure.
My thoughts will not cater
to duke or dictator
No man can deny, Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
No man can deny, Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
And should tyrants can take me and throw me in prison,
my thoughts will burst free like blossoms in season.
Foundations will crumble,
and structures will tumble,
and free men will cry, Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
Yes, free men will cry, Die Gedanken Sind Frei! 

Timely Virtue

Last week, I sat in on a lecture on Ancient Philosophy at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. It was really enjoyable to see how well Brian Hook did the lecture, and also reassuring that there didn’t seem to be anything I was missing. When he was discussing Aristotle’s virtues, my mind began to wander, and I began to wonder what the virtues of our age are, or rather, what they should be. What habits of character do we need to cultivate?

For the Ancient Philosopher Aristotle, living a good life, living “well-souled” (eudaimonia) or happily, was a matter of cultivating virtues, or character traits that lead to living well. He describes these virtues as a proper balance between two extremes. This is sometimes discribed as the Via Media or middle path.Middle Road For example, Courage is a prominent Greek virtue—as Alexander the Great’s tutor, Aristotle was in tune with the Homeric warrior culture that underpinned their culture. For Aristotle, Courage is not an ideal like it would be for Plato, a perfection to be aimed at, but instead it was a balance between Cowardice on the one side, and Fool-heartiness on the other. A man shouldn’t run from every confrontation, but on the other hand, he shouldn’t run towards every confrontation, either. A person shouldn’t allow pleasure to rule them, but he or she shouldn’t be numb, either; a virtuous person should be temperate. Of course, part of the problem teaching Aristotle is that the English words—temperate, magnanimous, etc.—we use for virtues are outdated and almost as alien to our ears as the Greek would be.

We live in an age of speed. I can have books at my doorstep within days or on my device withMountain Time 3in seconds. I can communicate instantly with friends in Germany (if they are still up) or friends in on the Pacific Coast (if they are up yet). The town I live in and the town I work in used to be half a day apart, then were an hour apart, then were 45 minutes apart, when I moved here 30 years ago were 30 minutes apart, and now are 15 minutes apart.

Much of this is good: it is nice to be able to keep in touch with Lois or Daniel or Karyn & Rich or Katy or Brandon. I enjoy the fact that I am able to walk the Appalachian Trail outside of Hampton Tennessee in the morning and work at the Johnson City Tennessee Barnes & Noble in the evening. But for many people, this very speed of life has changed how we live. In order to keep up with all the places we have to be, Mountain Time 5 shadowwe spend more time in our cars. Because we can do soccer and zumba and school and work, most families do all these things. And other things become fast as well. As our employers continue to have to cut costs, and we have to do more and more with less and less, even professions which used to be leisurely, like medicine and teaching and selling books, are feeling more and more like conveyer belts. Fast food—either the drive-through joints or food that relies more and more upon processed food—becomes a bigger and bigger part of how we eat. Fast communication—not just texting and Facebooking, but even the quickness of passing conversations—become the norm. We are speed-dating our own lives.

Let me suggest that a virtue we need to cultivate to live well in this time is something between the speed at which life seems to be forcing us to run and an inertia of resignation, passivity and entertainment which seems to be the other alternative. Mountain Time 2Now, anybody who knows me will be amused that I would be the spokesperson for slowness—it does seem so natural. However, there is something to be said for taking a cue from the various slow movements that have started in the last decade.  I have already written about the importance of slow mail. I have friends who are involved with parts of the slow food movement. In particular, many of my friends have taken to preparing food from the ground up. The answer to fast food thrown from a drive-through window is planting (or raising) your meals, cultivating them, and then cooking them yourself. But there are other areas in which we can slow down. We can try to walk or bike instead of driving. Read instead of watching. Knit or sew.

Slowness seems negative, though, so let me suggest another term. In regard to the speed of life, the mean between the extremes of speed and inertiaMountain Time 4 is moving—and living—deliberately. We can cook and eat at a deliberate pace at which we can be aware of the food and cook it well, and enjoy it. We can communicate at a deliberate pace at which we can be aware of the unspoken cues of our partners, children, friends, coworkers, and clients, and take the time to follow up on questions, and—most of all—to connect. We can move through the world in such a way that we are aware of our surroundings, deliberately, so that we are also aware of ourselves.

In the words of the original hipster and inventor of the No.2 pencil (whose name, appropriately enough, is pronounced like “thorough”):

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.

In an age where the only two options seem to be to join the frenentic rush or to resign ourselves and drop by the wayside, we must learn to choose our own way, and our own pace. What we choose to do, we can do with care, and do deliberately.315signature