Justice

This is the ninth in a series on Franklin’s moral improvement plan, the rest of the posts are be available here.

JUSTICE: Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.
– Franklin

According to Herbert Spencer, there is one law from which all other laws spring: survival of the fittest. Every individual ought to benefit to the extent that he is well adapted to his conditions and suffer to the extent that he is ill adapted. Consequently, all behavior that is conducive to survival is just. But this seemingly selfish principle has a number of caveats.

In the first place, the survival of the species is paramount over the survival of the individual. Spencer comes to this conclusion by comparing the ultimate result of the failure to survive. If any given individual (or even a multitude) dies, the species may live on. But extinction of the species necessitates the death of every individual.

One consequence is that adults have an obligation to the children in their family-group. Although adults deserve benefits commensurate to their fitness, infants deserve benefits inversely to their fitness. “Within the family-group most must be given where least is deserved, if desert is measured by worth.” The adults, therefore, subordinate their own good for the good of the infants.

Likewise, in larger society, individuals subordinate their own good, to some extent, for the good of the group. In living together, each individual gains some additional security against evils and some benefits from cooperation. In exchange, individuals must accept a certain amount of restraint, giving up the freedom to act in particular ways that harm or endanger the group. And ultimately, some individuals may even be expected to die for the good of the group.

Although the sacrifice of some individuals appears to be the complete subjugation of the individual to the group, society remains reducible to the survival of the fittest individuals. After all, the species or group or family is merely an abstract aggregate of concrete individuals. As the overall mortality of the society improves with cooperation, individuals live longer. And the longer individuals live, the more time they have for their superior adaptation has to show itself. Each individual, is therefore in a better position than ever to benefit from his superior adaptation or suffer from his inferior adaptation. “And vaguely, if not definitely, this is seen to constitute what is called justice.”

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Beer of the week: Strela Cabo Verde – Contract brewing is when a brewer outsources the production of his beer. Pabst, for example, does not actually brew any beer any more; all of their beer is contract brewed. This is also common with “foreign” beers. The Bass that I wrote about in an earlier post was brewed in New York.

Strela is a beer from Cape Verde, off the coast of Africa. However, this bottle was brewed under contract in Belgium. On one hand, I would like to try an actual African beer. On the other, I am skeptical about the quality of African beer and well acquainted with Belgian beers. Unfortunately, this is probably the worst beer I have ever had from Belgium. Strela is a very pale adjunct lager. It smells of corn and tastes… bad. I hope that the stuff that is actually brewed in Cape Verde is better than this.

Reading for the week: Justice by Herbert Spencer – The chapter preceding this selection applies the principles of justice to the animals. Like human society, animal society develops more pronounced justice as the society becomes more complex.

Question for the week: Spencer acknowledges that as societies become more organized, individuals gain more benefits, but individuals also also become more constrained. And in some instances, society may demand more from an individual than he gains by being a member. Is there an inevitable tipping point resulting of the growth of society? Must increased organization always tend to a point where constraint outweighs benefit?

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Order

This is the fourth in a series on Franklin’s moral improvement plan, the rest of the posts will be available here.

ORDER:  Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.
-Franklin

Order is the key to success at work. Like a finely tuned machine, an employee who is well organized will smoothly and comfortably move through each task as it comes. At leisure, however, order may be regarded as constraining. If one meticulously plans out his free time, is it free time in any real sense? So there you have it: order in work and disorder in leisure.

Well, maybe. Pliny the Younger seems to think that such a view is backwards. According to Pliny, “a little confusion and disarrangement is all well enough” in one’s work, but leisure time “should be composed and uniform.”

Disarrangement is a necessary component of work. Changes in what the boss or client requires, unforeseen difficulties, market reversals, and so on make business a more or less constant battle against disorder. And, although the result is often stressful, the disorder of work is also the impetus for advancement and discovery. Each new problem represents a new opportunity to improve one’s methods or streamline one’s processes. So if one is able to remain perfectly ordered in his employment, he is probably under-performing.

On the other hand, leisure is best when there is no disorder. And to avoid disorder, one must plan. It is a rare person indeed who has never felt like a vacation or weekend was wasted simply by not having a plan. That is not to say that one must be constantly active in one’s leisure, only that to make the best use of leisure, one must be orderly with one’s time. Lying in bed all weekend or binge-watching a television show may be a good use of free time, but only if one has actually chosen that course of action rather than fallen into it for lack of a better plan. Naps, detours, impulsive decisions, can all be part of an orderly free time. The key is to be conscious of the limited time available, and to make decisions that maximize enjoyment of that time.
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Beer of the week: Firestone Pils – This pilsner comes from Firestone Walker in California. There is not much aroma to speak of, just a hint of lemony hops. The flavor is rather simple, just a bit of malt and more of the hops from the smell. It is refreshing and tasty, if a bit simple.

Reading of the week: Letter to Calvisius by Pliny the Younger: In this letter, Pliny describes the lifestyle of Titus Vestricius Spurinna. At the time, Spurinna was retired from government and the military, and had settled into a comfortable and highly regular home routine. Spurinna made time each day for exercise, socializing, writing, and relaxation. And because he made the most of his retirement, Pliny wrote, “there is no man whom I would sooner choose for my model, for nothing can be more perfect in arrangement than his mode of life.”

Question of the week: Which is most important: well organized time, well organized possessions, or well organized thoughts?


Temperance

This is the second in a series on Franklin’s moral improvement plan, the rest of the posts will be available here.

TEMPERANCE:  Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
– Franklin

As applied to food, the notion of “all things in moderation” is sorely abused. There are certainly some foods that one can healthily do without entirely. Indeed, there are foods that one ought to live without. So recommending that all foods be consumed in moderation is not quite right.

For example, one can eat candy from time to time without any serious threat of injury. But it would be absurd to recommend consumption of a moderate amount of candy. A better recommendation would be the total avoidance of candy, and if one does eat candy, to keep it at a minimum.

Because of this distinction, it is important to be able to tell between those foods that should be avoided, but may be consumed in small quantities, and those foods that are salubrious, but should be consumed moderately.

In Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, the character Gluttony describes his lineage: “My grandfather was a Gammon of Bacon, my grandmother a Hogshead of Claret-wine; my godfathers were these, Peter Pickleherring, and Martin Martlemas-beef.” And Gluttony’s godmother was Mistress Margery Marchbeer. The choice of food and drink associated with Gluttony is quite interesting: cured pork, pickled fish, and dried beef, together with red wine and märzen beer. (To say nothing of the fact that the meat is masculine and the drink is feminine.)

Because the play is from the late 16th century, it goes without saying that there was no refrigeration. So during much of the year, preservation of meat through curing, pickling, or drying was essential if one was to have meat at all. Additionally, beer and wine both served as valuable dietary supplements, and were recommended for a great number of health benefits. So to Marlowe, gluttony is about the over-consumption of healthful foods, not the consumption of foods that are inherently bad for you.

Then again, Marlowe could hardly have imagined the concoctions that pass for food these days.


Beer of the week: Flag Spéciale – This Moroccan beer is brewed in Fez, and is ultimately uninspiring. It is pretty darn bland. On the plus side, the only ingredients are water, malt, and hops; no refined sugars, or anything that should be avoided altogether. Boring though it may be, it is refreshing. And when combined with a bit of atmosphere on a hot day, it is even delightful. And because it comes in a 24 cl bottle, there is little chance of “drinking to elevation.”

Reading of the week: The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, Scene VI – In this scene, Lucifer introduces Dr. Faustus to the Seven Deadly Sins. Faustus says to Lucifer that seeing the Sins in their true form “will be as pleasing unto [him], As Paradise was to Adam the first day Of his creation.”

Question for the week: The proposed distinction between foods that are salubrious and foods that should be avoided entirely is clearly problematic. For example, vegans say all meat should be avoided. Teetotalers say all alcohol should be avoided. Are their any truly clear divisions than can be made?


Equipollence

This is the fourth and final post in a series on skepticism (and Goose Island beers.) The earlier posts can be found here.

One of the hallmarks of Pyrrhonism is arguing equipollent claims. Pyrrhonic skeptics set up opposing philosophical accounts as proof that we are incapable of forming reasonable beliefs. They are always willing to take a contrary position, with the goal of showing that we cannot be firm in any opinion and should therefore suspend judgment. As Montaigne put it:

“If you propose that snow is black, they will argue on the other side that it is white. If you say it is neither one nor other, they will maintain it to be both. If by a certain judgement you say that you cannot tell, they will maintain that you can tell. Nay, if by an affirmative axiom you swear that you stand in some doubt, they will dispute that you doubt not of it, or that you cannot judge or maintain that you are in doubt. And by this extremity of doubt, which staggereth it self, they separate and divide themselves from many opinions, yea from those which divers ways have maintained both the doubt and the ignorance.”

Contrary accounts, with nothing to chose between them, leave us in a state of suspended belief, and therefore άταραξία.

But in The Apology of Raymond Sebond, Montaigne does not restrict himself to openly arguing both sides of any question. Even when he is not explicitly setting up equipollent claims, his overt claims are often undercut by the method of his argument.

At one point, Montaigne derides book learning and the search for knowledge. In part he relies on the quote from Ecclesiastes: “he that acquires knowledge acquires travail and torment.” In context, however, the overt argument against learning seems totally subverted by Montaigne’s delivery. The essay is (at least nominally) a defense of a book by a Catalan philosopher who claimed that man could learn all about God and religion by applying his reason to the world around him. A book that Montaigne had translated himself. And the essay is brimming with quotations from scripture and antiquity. Quotations which Montaigne had, no doubt, learned over a lifetime of diligent study. (And, in many cases, had inscribed on the ceiling of his impressive library.) So on the one hand, he argues that education is actually detrimental, and on the other hand, he relies very heavily on his excellent education to support that claim.

Likewise, Montaigne’s argument against the power of human reason has a strong undercurrent that subverts his overt claim. He sets out to show that man is no more intelligent than any other animal. And, because our faculties are not greater than that of the animals, we have no right to rely upon them. Humans, in short, are simply not that smart. But the next twenty pages are dedicated to showing how very intelligent animals are. (And for Montaigne, twenty pages is a decent chunk of writing; many of his essays are only a couple pages long.) So although his overall point appears to be that human reason is not reliable because it is no greater than that of the animals, the vast majority of his argument is spent on raising our opinion of the intelligence of animals. Again, there is a contradiction that may justify withholding our opinion.

It seems significant that Montaigne is constantly and consciously undercutting his own arguments. I think that it shows that even when he appears to be taking a position, he recognizes that there is always another argument or explanation. And because there is no reason to pick one explanation over the other, the better course is to withhold judgment altogether.

But, to quote Montaigne, “what do I know?”


Beer of the week: Four Star Pils – The name of this beer is a reference to the flag of Chicago, the birthplace of Goose Island Beer Co. Four Star is a pretty golden pilsner with a nice, foamy head. It is a bit if a departure from traditional pilsners, in that the hops are less aromatic and have a little more bite in the back of the throat. It tastes more like the hops of an American IPA (in variety, not quantity) than a Czech pilsner. But it is by no means too strongly hopped, with plenty of malt to balance the flavor. Quite an enjoyable beer.

Reading of the week: The Apology of Raymond Sebond by Michel de Montaigne – It seems that the only copyright free English version is over 400 years old. But it will do for our purposes. This reading describes why the skeptics “desire to be contradicted, thereby to engender doubt and suspence of judgement.” Montaigne maintains that the skeptics oppose dogma by being willing to argue the opposite of any position. But this section has curious subversive tones similar to the ones discussed above. The excerpt is about how the skeptics contend against dogma, which is often simply a product of upbringing and culture. The final lines, though, include an exhortation to “addresse and commit our selves to God.” That exhortation certainly seems to imply some dogmatic belief.

Question for the week: Is it true that everything admits of more than one plausible argument? Is there nothing that we can be sure of?


So Much Duckweed

According to legend, the Chinese sage Liu Ling was at all times followed by a servant carrying a wine bottle and a shovel. The purpose of the wine is obvious; Liu Ling liked to drink. The shovel’s purpose was somewhat darker. Liu Ling thought of the whole world as his home. “The sun and moon [were] the windows of his house; the cardinal points [were] the boundaries of his domain.” Because he felt equally at home wherever he ranged, he had no sentimental desire for his mortal remains to be laid to rest in any particular place; no “bury me on the old farmstead” for him. More important than his detachment from any specific place, it seems that Lui Ling had no particular sentimental attachment to his own body. Consequently, he did not care where it was buried. And so Lui Ling’s servant carried a shovel, ready to inter his master’s corpse wherever he should happen to drop dead.

Many centuries later, Lui Ling’s thoughts on mortality (and on alcohol consumption) inspired Jack London. In his autobiographical novel John Barleycorn, London reminisces about “Liu Ling, a hard drinker, one of the group of bibulous poets who called themselves the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove and who lived in China many an ancient century ago.” In particular, London seems to agree with Lui Ling’s statement “that to a drunken man the affairs of this world appear but as so much duckweed on a river.”

But why the do affairs of the world appear as duckweed? When alcohol reduces the drunken man’s problems to mere trivialities, is it because the alcohol blinds him to the true extent of his troubles? Or does it make him neglectful of things that actually matter? It seems more probable that the drunk man is actually seeing more clearly than before. The alcohol helps him to understand the transience and insignificance of human concerns, a realization that is perhaps difficult for a sober mind to bear. Like Liu Ling himself, the drunken man sees the whole world as his home and all eternity as but an instant.

Pearl River Beer
Beer of the week: Pearl River Beer – This Chinese brew pours clear and golden with little carbonation. The aroma is mostly of grass and rice. The flavor is rather plain with some lingering sweetness. It isn’t a particularly bad beer, especially considering its nation of origin. On the other hand, if it has to travel halfway around the world, it had better be pretty good.

Reading of the week: The Genius of Wine by Liu Ling – The translator tells us that the “old gentleman” of this story is Liu Ling himself. This very short passage gives a couple hints of Liu Ling’s philosophy, and relates how he withstood the intervention of “two respectable philanthropists” who tried to get him to quit drinking by berating and lecturing him.

Question for the week: Why are so many people so adamant about what should become of their mortal remains?


Paradoxical Poetry

An original poem on some of Zeno’s paradoxes:

I.
Traverse a line? Don’t make me laugh!
Each segment’s segment’s cut in half.
One cannot simply walk the line,
‘cross infinite halves in finite time.

II.
Swooping down from high above
The eagle catches fleeing dove,
Yet swift Achilles, to this day,
Cannot o’ertake his tortoise prey.

III.
We see the arrow fly through air,
But surely there’s no motion there.
The arrow, ne’er before it’s caught,
Moves where it is, nor where it’s not.

IV.
In the hippodrome they run their course,
Speeds are measured in length of horse.
Opposing directions they fly past,
Each to the next seems doubly fast.

At the risk of over-explaining, a quick note on the four paradoxes mentioned in the poem:

The first verse deals with a paradox known as the “dichotomy”. This is probably the most well known of Zeno’s paradoxes. For a runner to reach the finish line, he must first reach the midpoint. In order to reach the midpoint, he must first go half way to the midpoint. And so on. As a consequence, before any distance can be traversed, an infinite number of smaller distances must be covered. And to take an infinite number of steps must take an infinite time. Therefore, the runner cannot possibly run even a short distance.

The second verse deals with the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise. It is actually quite similar to the first. Although Achilles is much faster than a tortoise, he can never catch it because in the time that it takes him to reach where the tortoise was, the tortoise will have moved a little further away. Therefore, before Achilles can ever catch up to the tortoise, he must first reach all of the infinite points where the tortoise had already been.

The third verse is the paradox of the arrow. An arrow, just like any other physical body, always takes up a space equal to itself. So at any given instant the arrow cannot move inside that space because the space is exactly the size and shape of the arrow. But it also cannot move outside of that space because it is perfectly contained. Therefore, motion is impossible.

The final verse treats the paradox of the stadium. If two teams of horses, four horses long each, pass each other in opposite directions, an observer will notice that in the time that the lead horse has covered a total distance of two horse-lengths, it will have actually passed all four of the other team’s horses. Therefore the chariot, despite its constant speed, travels two different distances in the same amount of time, which is absurd.

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Beer of the week: Cerveza Monterrey – The term “Corona knock-off” gets thrown around a bit, and this isn’t the first beer I’ve reviewed that might merit that description. This extremely pale Guatemalan lager is very carbonated. On its own, it is fairly watery and tastes of corn. The addition of lime and sea salt, however, makes this a reasonably palatable hot-weather drink. With a lot of lime, it is rather refreshing.

Reading for the week: Lives of the Eminent Philosophers by Diogenes Laërtius, Parmenides, Melissus, and Zeno of Elea – Zeno’s own writings are lost to us. However, Diogenes Laërtius (among others) preserved some of his ideas. Diogenes also relates the gruesome details of Zeno’s death, including the part where Zeno bites off the ear (or nose) of a tyrant. To help give context to Zeno’s life, this reading includes the lives of his teacher (and lover?) Parmenides and his contemporary Melissus.

Question for the week: Are the paradoxes mere logic tricks, or do they point to some more profound truth?


I Spy

“The American of today, in fact, probably enjoys less personal liberty than any other man of Christendom, and even his political liberty is fast succumbing to the new dogma that certain theories of government are virtuous and lawful, and others abhorrent and felonious. Laws limiting the radius of his free activity multiply year by year: It is now practically impossible for him to exhibit anything describable as genuine individuality, either in action or in thought, without running afoul of some harsh and unintelligible penalty. It would surprise no impartial observer if the motto “In God we trust” were one day expunged from the coins of the republic by the Junkers at Washington, and the far more appropriate word, “verboten,” substituted. Nor would it astound any save the most romantic if, at the same time, the goddess of liberty were taken off the silver dollars to make room for a bas-relief of a policeman in a spiked helmet. Moreover, this gradual (and, of late, rapidly progressive) decay of freedom goes almost without challenge; the American has grown so accustomed to the denial of his constitutional rights and to the minute regulation of his conduct by swarms of spies, letter-openers, informers and agents provocateurs that he no longer makes any serious protest.” – The American Credo (1920)

In the nearly 90 years since George Jean Nathan and H. L. Mencken published The American Credo, the country has changed quite considerably. It seems worthwhile to make note of some of the ways that their predictions have turned out:

  • “[T]he dogma that certain theories of government are virtuous and lawful, and others abhorrent and felonious” has been a staple of American foreign policy since the book was published. The whole of the Cold War was dedicated to the proposition that American-style “democracy” is morally superior to Soviet-style “communism”. Our latest military adventures have likewise been sold as “spreading democracy” to countries that have “bad” governments. (Even as the United States has actively participated in propping up violent dictators, so long as they were adequately pro-American, if not pro-democratic.)
  • It is more true than ever that virtually all actions violate some law or other. Federal laws alone are now so numerous that literally nobody can say how many there actually are. Additionally, many federal regulatory bodies have the power to enact rules and regulations that carry criminal penalties. So while there may be as many as 4,500 federal criminal laws, there may also be as many as 300,000 federal regulations with criminal penalties. Consequently, it remains nearly impossible to do anything “without running afoul of some harsh and unintelligible penalty.”
  • “In God we trust” is subject to more or less constant attacks, but so far without any success.
  • The goddess of liberty has been removed from our dollar coins. Her first replacement was Dwight Eisenhower, former general and chief executive. Not quite a “policeman in a spiked helmet,” but not too different either. Eisenhower gave way to more peaceful images of Susan B. Anthony and then Sacagawea. Now we are back to the presidents, although the mint now has such an insane supply that they have stopped releasing new presidential dollar coins into circulation. More important than the image on the coins, however, is the fact that in the middle of the 1960’s the United States officially reneged on the promise to pay silver on demand for its notes, paving the way for unprecedented manipulations of the supply of money.
  • The “swarms of spies, letter-openers, informants and agents provocateurs” are still at work in this country, but with more power than ever. Whistle-blowers such as Edward Snowden have helped to highlight just how vast and pervasive American government spying is. And, true to Mencken’s observations, the vast majority of Americans do not put up any real protest.

The more things change, so they say, the more they stay the same. But it is hard to believe that even Mencken and Nathan could have been so cynical as to foresee the world as it is today. Surely the constant, and actually accelerating, decay of freedom must have a breaking point. How vast our freedom must have been if we are able to have lost so much.

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Beer of the Week: Zlatý Bažant (Golden Pheasant) – Although I have been aware of this Slovakian beer for quite a while, I never tried it until now. When I saw Golden Pheasant for sale in the past, it was always brewed under contract in the Czech Republic. This bottle, however, is the real deal from Hurbanovo, Slovak Republic. The beer is pretty and golden, with a nice white head that leaves decent lacing. It seems very much like any Czech lager, but there is something about it that seems a bit off, particularly in the aftertaste. It really is an ok beer, but there is just something about the Golden Pheasant that I don’t care for.

Reading of the week: The Spy by Svetozár Hurban-Vajanský – Hurbanovo, Slovakia, as it turns out, is named for Jozef Miloslav Hurban, a prominent Slovak freedom-fighter against the oppressive Hungarian regime. His son Svetozár Hurban-Vajanský was a poet and also a prominent Slovak nationalist. So a Hurban-Vajanský poem seems like a good pairing for Golden Pheasant. — The extensive use of spies and secret police against citizens is a sure sign of trouble for all freedom-loving peoples. It has been repeated through history, and the rulers who use those tactics number among the most notorious names in the annals of human society. This poem is a parody of the creation of man from Genesis. The devil forms a body of clay (and spit) and breathes life into it. And the result is not an ordinary man, but something far more evil: a spy.

Question of the week: There is an expression, the origin of which I cannot locate: “agent provocateur is a job so despicable that there is no word for it in the English language.” Do you know who said that? And is the agent provocateur really the worst sort of spy?