This is the forty-sixth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XLVI: Elizabethan Drama 1
Part of the problem of deifying or vilifying political leaders is that each approach dehumanizes its subjects. History’s greatest and most powerful men were, after all, only human. None were gods; none were devils. To think of them as anything but human is misleading and dangerous.
The classic example is Hitler. He was a bad guy, to say the least. But to think of him as evil incarnate or some other non-human abstraction is particularly dangerous because it creates the false impression that such a man could not come to power again. By ignoring Hitler’s humanity, we lower our guard against the next Hitler, and perhaps inadvertently foster the conditions under which such a person may come to be.
For the same reasons, it is dangerous to deify leaders that we like. No matter who your favorite political figure is, that person is, underneath it all, an ordinary person. And like everybody else, that person is subject to passions, temptations, and personal flaws. And when a political hero is a living person, there is the dangerous temptation to grant them unlimited power on the assumption that they can and will wield it with superhuman competency and trustworthiness.
Beer of the week: Smithwicks Red Ale – When the nobles pressured Edward II of England to exile his favorite, Gaveston, he made him Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. This red-brown ale comes from that very island. It has an aroma of toasted malt. The flavor is nicely balanced between that toasted malt and a bit of hops bitterness.
Reading of the week: Edward the Second by Christopher Marlowe – This scene shows Edward II of England as neither saint nor devil. He is misled by ambitious underlings and lets his affection for his favorites interfere with his decision-making. But that does not render him totally incompetent. The rebellion that ultimately leads to his downfall is a back-and-forth affair; at one point Edward captures and executes several of the leading nobles, nearly ending the revolt.
Question for the week: What is the best defense against the worst people coming to power?
This is the forty-fourth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XLIV: Sacred Writings 1
The structure of the Analects, or Sayings of Confucius, is not entirely clear to me. Some chapters apparently deal with more or less specific themes. For example, Chapter X is a description of Confucius’s character and habits. Other chapters, such as Chapter XV, seem to be mere collections of thoughts and precepts without any particular organizing principle. As such, it is rather difficult to know how much the order of the sayings matters. However, it as only fair to assume that somebody thought that the structure was important, otherwise, why should the sayings be in the order that they are?
Assuming, then, that the sayings were purposefully ordered, two adjacent lines in Chapter XV stand out to me:
The Master said: “A gentleman fears lest his name should die when life is done.”
The Master said: ‘A gentleman looks within: the vulgar look unto others.”
I gather that “gentleman” here is “junzi” or “prince”. However, unlike the original meaning of “prince” as the hereditary heir to the throne, the word is used throughout the Analects to signify an ideal moral actor. Confucius appears to have favored a system of meritocracy, where morally superior men of any birth-status could rise to prominence. One goal — perhaps the primary goal — of the Analects is to instruct readers on how to be junzi.
Line 15.19 makes it appear that reputation matters to the gentleman, even after death. However, given the idea of the gentleman as an ideal moral actor, he would not merely want to be remembered, but to leave a legacy of being righteous. He would not want to be remembered for any act or characteristic that is inconsistent with the well-deserved status as “junzi.”
However, 15.19 seems to be at odds with 15.20.
In 15.20, Confucius contrasts the gentleman with “the vulgar.” It appears that Chinese word can also be rendered as “the small man” or “the petty man”. Throughout the Analects, the small man is given as a counterexample to the gentleman. Unlike the ideal morality of the gentleman, the small man’s ethical vision is narrow and self-serving. While the gentleman is inclusive, the small man is partisan. While the the gentleman seeks the good, the small man seeks profit. And so on.
It could be that 15.20 merely extols self-sufficiency; the gentleman is self-sufficent, while the small man relies on — or even leeches off of — others. However, read in conjunction with 15.19, it seems that the gentleman “looks within” for validation of his own worth. That is, he judges himself based on his own (proper) ethical standards, while the small man requires the validation of others. The problem, of course, is that the “others” to whom the small man looks are most likely vulgar themselves. In short, a gentleman takes little stock in public opinion of him because he holds himself to a different (and better) standard. The small man, desirous of public approval, is willing to debase himself for the sake of popularity. This reading is similar to the argument in Plato’s Republic that it is better to be good-but-reviled than to be lauded as good but actually not be. Though all the world think ill of you, it is better to know that you are good in your own heart than to succumb to the wrong public opinion of what is good.
But if that reading of 15.20 is correct, what sort of legacy can the gentleman hope to leave behind in 15.19? Who will remember the gentleman if he has has taken no particular stock of his public reputation? It seems possible that, worse than not being remembered at all, the gentleman will be remembered poorly by the vulgar masses because they lack the capacity to properly judge his virtue.
One way to reconcile the apparent contradiction between these sayings is that the gentleman ought to take stock of the opinions of other gentlemen. The gentleman in 15.19 is anxious to be remembered, not by the masses, but by other righteous men. And the small man’s error in 15.20 is seeking the approval of the vulgar, rather than the approval of his betters. That reconciliation is somewhat unsatisfying because it makes 15.20 appear to be an incomplete thought. Although the gentleman should “look within”, he should also be conscious and sensitive to the opinions of other gentlemen. Although the approval of others should not drive his actions, it may be a useful tool in determining whether his own opinion of himself is accurate.
Beer of the week: Busch Beer – This extremely pale macro lager is a bit of a surprise. It has the classic cheap beer smell and taste, but without much or any of the bad off notes. There is a bit of corn in the flavor, but none of the stickiness or sharp tastes that often come with that. For what it is, Busch Beer is a totally serviceable brew.
Reading of the week: The Sayings of Confucius, Chapter XV – This chapter also includes such gems as “A gentleman does not raise a man for his words, nor scorn what is said for the speaker,” and “Do not do unto others what thou wouldst not they should do unto thee.”
Question for the week: How important is it to leave a legacy?
This is the thirty-ninth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXIX: Prefaces and Prologues
This Sunday marks the hundredth anniversary of the end of World War One. Even during the war, it was known as “the war to end war.” (An expression that may have been coined by H. G. Wells.) So high were the human and economic costs that it was almost inconceivable that humans could ever again resort to war.
It was not mere naïveté that led people to hope World War One would be the end of all war; such hopes have existed throughout human history. In the late fifteenth century, William Caxton wrote that even the ancient Trojan War “may be example to all men during the world how dreadful and jeopardous it is to begin a war and what harms, losses, and death followeth.” And occasionally, people have invented new weapons, such as the Gatling gun or the atomic bomb, that are so devastating that further wars appear unthinkably terrible.
But with a century of hindsight, we know well the World War One did not end all war. It was barely twenty years before a Second World War was underway. In fact, it was less than twenty years, if one takes into account the Japanese invasion of China.
Nearly every year since then, the United States, far and away the greatest military power of all time, has been at war. The most recent American war in Afghanistan is approaching the end of its second decade. (There are some who argue that the United States has not been at war since the Korean War because Congress has not made a declaration of war since then. This argument elevates form over substance. The actions of the United States in Vietnam, Iraq, Panama, etc. were unquestionably acts of war.) As far as I can tell, the most recent year that the United States was not at war was 2000. That means that by next year, there will be eligible voters who have lived their entire lives during wartime. Maybe they’ll somehow have the sense to vote for candidates who want peace. (If such a thing exists.)
Even with centuries and millennia of examples of how dreadful war is, it persists. But it is not unreasonable to hope, pray, and, most importantly, strive for peace. So this weekend, raise a glass and drink to peace in our time.
Beer of the week: Balashi Pilsner- Even the tiny island of Aruba has not been totally isolated from war. During World War Two, German and Italian submarines torpedoed oil tankers anchored there. Over 50 sailors lost their lives as the submarines sunk six tankers and damaged two others. There we’re a couple of German casualties as well, the result of a deck gun exploding due to user error. But for the most part, Aruba has been a peaceful place to have a beer. Balashi Pilsner has a faint but pleasantly malty aroma. Although it is a fairly light beer, it is well-balanced. Frankly, Balashi is better than one might expect from the tropics.
Reading of the week: William Caxton’s Prologue to Book I and Epilogues to Books II and III of The Recuyell of the Histories of Troy – Caxton, the first commercial printer in England, translated many of the books that he published. His own writings are primarily prefaces.
Question for the week: For all its myriad evils, some maintain that war has social value. (Including, perhaps, population control, technological advancement, or economic stimulus.) What is war’s most redeeming value?
This is the thirty-eighth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXVIII: Harvey, Jenner, Lister, Pasteur
The label on this week’s beer (pictured below with a pretty sweet lava lamp) makes the same claim as innumerable other German beers. In case you do not read German, bottle says that this beer is brewed in accordance with the Reinheitsgebot, the Bavarian “Beer Purity Law.” I have railed against that law in the past, but there are a few things that I would like to set straight.
For some background, the original Bavarian Reinheitsgebot was enacted in 1516. In short, the law regulated the ingredients allowed in beer. Under the Reinheitsgebot, beer could be made only with water, malted barley, and hops. Ostensibly, the law was intended to protect consumers from beer made with inferior ingredients. In practice, it stifled the innovative use of other sources of fermentable sugars, such as wheat or rye, as well as herbs or spices that could be used as an alternative to hops. It also proved to be an effective barrier to the importation of foreign beers that might include such ingredients.
When I discussed the Reinheitsgebot before, I claimed that the Reinheitsgebot was enacted as part of a scheme of protection for the local bakers’ guild. By reducing the demand for wheat and rye, the law reduced prices for those grains, much to the advantage of the bakers. However, I have also heard that the Duke of Munich owned virtually all of the hops farms in Bavaria. As if monopoly status was not enough, the duke used the law to force brewers to buy from him rather than use other herbs or spices to bitter their beer. Either way, the Reinheitsgebot is economic protectionism disguised as consumer protection. Whether it was for the benefit of the baker’s guild or the hops growing monopoly, it was certainly at the expense of everybody else. This sort of economic law was called “legal plunder” by French economist Frédéric Bastiat.
Additionally, I have asserted that the law is now only a marketing ploy. However, a version of the law does still exist on the books in Germany. It only applies to domestic beer production though, so non-conforming imports are now allowed into the country. Its value other than as a marketing ploy is totally unclear to me, especially at a time when innovative brewers around the world are experimenting with new styles and ingredients.
Finally, astute readers will have noticed that yeast is not listed as an acceptable ingredient. Back in 1516, yeast was still centuries from being discovered. It was not until Louis Pasteur’s scientific experiments in the middle of the 19th century that we learned that alcoholic fermentation is the product of living yeast cells. Consequently, the modern version of the law lists yeast as a valid ingredient, as well as ground hops and hops extract. Obviously, yeast has always been used in beer making, even if the brewers did not actually know what it was. Hops extract, however is anything but traditional.
I still think that the Reinhietsgebot was a bad law when it was passed and that the current version is no better. I am glad that my own beer choice is not limited by that law.
Beer of the week: Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Märzen – This dark brown rauchbier – German for smoked beer – comes from Bramberg, Germany. The name refers to the fact that the malt is smoked in a kiln over burning beechwood. It pours with plenty of tan head. The aroma is primarily of smoke, as is the flavor. For all the smoke, it is not overbearing. Especially as it warms, Schlenkerla shoes itself to be a very well-balanced brew.
Reading of the week: The Physiological Theory Of Fermentation by Louis Pasteur – For thousands of years before Pasteur’s discoveries, humans have used yeast for brewing and baking. In this excerpt, he describes in part how brewers unknowingly created the ideal conditions for yeast growth and fermentation.
Question for the week: Is yeast really an “ingredient” in beer? Usually, it is added to the wort, where it multiplies and ferments the sugars, and then it is filtered out. That makes it seem more like a process than an ingredient.
This is the thirty-sixth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXVI: Machiavelli, More, Luther
It has been said there is no surer sign that an intellectual adversary is defeated than when he stops attacking your ideas and starts attacking you. Martin Luther writes in his Letter to Pope Leo X, “when we can repel the truth by no other pretence, we escape by attributing bitterness, impatience, intemperance, to our adversaries.”
Anybody who follows political news should be aware that this is the standard tactic of all of the most prominent politicians and pundits. (Obviously not the ones that you like and support. You are far to intelligent to fall for such an obvious logical fallacy. And your favorite politicians and talking heads are too upright to stoop to such petty tactics.) Rather than throughly rebutting and defending ideas, these people simply attack the ideas’ proponents. Consider this representative hypothetical:
A: “We should have a flat tax.”
B: “A is a philanderer.”
It is easy, in such a case, to identify the ad hominem and dismiss it as irrelevant. So what if A is a philanderer? That tells us nothing about whether his proposed tax policy is good bad or indifferent. B’s attack is totally unrelated to A’s proposal.
However, one of the most popular forms of ad hominem can be harder to spot. The appeal to hypocrisy (also known as tu quoque or whataboutism) often appears to be on point. For example:
A: “We should support traditional family values.”
B: “A is a philanderer.”
In this case, B’s statement seems relevant. The fact that A is a philanderer certainly appears to bear on the topic of family values. This appeal to hypocrisy is so attractive precisely because it has the semblance of logical refutation. But on closer inspection, the response does not actually refute A’s statement. Rather, it simply attacks A personally. It is totally possible that A’s statement about family values is right, no matter how bad of a spouse A is personally.
The biggest problem with analyzing ad hominem attacks is that if they are true, they may actually have some decision-making value. Whether A is a philanderer does not directly bear on the merits of his tax plan, but it does call into question whether he can be trusted to direct public funds. If his spouse cannot trust him, how can the voters?
(By the way, this example is particularly fertile ground ground for the appeal to hypocrisy. Politicians across the spectrum have bashed opponents for marital infidelity while defending members of their own ranks on the grounds that their personal lives do not effect their ability to govern. Whether they are right when they bash or right when they defend is not important for our purposes. At best, the very fact that they are inconsistent calls into question their motives. At worst it calls into question their reasoning powers. But in any event, it doesn’t really tell us anything about any substantive arguments, only about the people making them.)
And of course, this is true of most ad hominem attacks. Calling somebody a hypocrite, racist, or misogynist is not a refutation of any of their particular ideas or positions; it is merely a personal attack. But if the allegation of hypocrisy, racism, or misogyny is true, it (quite reasonably) makes us question their motives, reliability, and capacity.
The key, as I see it, is to readily identify ad hominem attacks, and give them the weight that they deserve. In the context of a debate of actual issues, that weight extremely low. When possible, ideas should be assessed on their own merits, not on those of their proponents.
Beer of the week: Julius Echter Hefe-Weissbier – This wheat beer from Würzburger Hofbräu is named for Julius Echter von Mespelbrunn, a leader of the Counter-Reformation, who used his power as Prince-Bishop of Würzburg to combat Lutheranism. I doubt he’d like me pairing this beer with a reading in which Luther writes that the Catholic Church “stinks in the nostrils of the world.”
As for the beer, it is hazy and orangish. The foam consists of large, quickly dissipating bubbles. The aroma has some of the classic banana notes of a German hefeweizen. Ultimately, the flavor is a bit underwhelming. This beer is pretty good, but not great.
Reading of the week: Martin Luther to Pope Leo X – It is no mere coincidence that this post was inspired by a Luther reading. Nearly three years ago, I wrote a post addressing a particular ad hominem criticism of Luther. In this letter, he follows up his statement about ad hominem attacks with several paragraphs of blatant ad hominem criticisms, ending with calling the Catholic Church “the most lawless den of thieves, the most shameless of all brothels, the very kingdom of sin, death, and hell; so that not even antichrist, if he were to come, could devise any addition to its wickedness.” What a hypocrite!
Question for the week: Do you know of any politicians or pundits who consistently stick to the issues and avoid the ad hominem tactic?
This is the thirty-fifth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXV: Chronicle and Romance, Froissart, Malory, Holinshead
Rebellions only occur under a particular set of conditions. The first prerequisite is that there must be some sort of oppression (at least perceived oppression) against which to rebel. In the case of the Peasant’s Revolt in 1381, the commoners rebelled against the oppressive social order known as serfdom. Under serfdom, the nobility could force the common folk to work the nobles’ lands without pay. Naturally, this was resented by the commons.
As John Ball, one of the leaders of the rebellion expressed their cause:
“When Adam delved, and Eve span, who was then the gentleman? From the beginning all men by nature were created alike, and our bondage or servitude came in by the unjust oppression of naughty men. For if God would have had any bondmen from the beginning, he would have appointed who should be bond, and who free. And therefore I exhort you to consider that now the time is come, appointed to us by God, in which ye may (if ye will) cast off the yoke of bondage, and recover liberty.”
Curiously, however, oppression is only one of the necessary conditions for revolt. Another condition is freedom. That is, some amount of freedom. As the chronicler Jean Froissart put it, the Peasants’ Revolt happened “because of the ease and riches that the common people were of.” It seems likely, or at least possible, that the peasants would not have revolted if they were slaves rather than serfs. It is one thing to be explicitly enslaved, it is quite another thing to be nominally free and still be forced to work like a slave.
To rebel, one must be oppressed enough to resent the yoke, but free enough to cast it off. One who is kept in abject constraint is no more likely to revolt than one who is totally at liberty; rebellion happens somewhere in the middle. The ruling class must always be aware of that balance. They must strive to keep the people so free that they are content or else so restrained that they are dispirited.
Beer of the week: Fist City – A beer from Revolution Brewing makes for a thoroughly apt pairing with this week’s reading. Fist City is a liquid homage to the City of Broad Shoulders. It is styled as a “Chicago Pale Ale,” and it pours clear and golden, with plenty of big-bubbled foam. The flavor and aroma seem to have hints of rosemary in a grove of pine, and the whole thing is rounded off nicely with wheat malt.
Reading of the week: Wat Tyler’s Rebellion by Jean Froissart – This excerpt from Froissarts Chronicles describes the beginnings of the Peasants’ Revolt in in 1381. Froissart attributes the rebellion primarily to the teachings of John Ball and discontent about social inequality. As a man thoroughly attached to the ruling class, Froissart shows little sympathy for the oppressed masses.
Question for the week: Is it possible for a society to slowly drift from relatively high freedom to abject oppression? Or must there be a tipping point somewhere along the way that requires either a rebellion or a sudden and violent descent to authoritarianism?
This is the twenty-sixth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXVI: Continental Drama
What do John Wilkes Booth, Marcus Junius Brutus, and William Tell have in common? That question would hardly need answering if not for the fact that so many people only remember William Tell for shooting an apple off of his son’s head. Aside from that spectacular display of marksmanship, Tell’s truly remarkable act was the assassination Hermann Gessler, the Austrian governor in Switzerland. And like every other political assassin, Tell had his reasons.
In Friedrich Schiller’s dramatization of the Tell legend, Gessler is a cruel despot. The law that drives the plot of the story is one which makes it a capital offense not to kneel before Gessler’s hat, hung upon a pole. It is the enforcement of this draconian rule that brings Gessler and Tell into conflict.
By the way, the word “draconian”, like so many other words, enjoys popular usage without its origin being generally well-known. Draco was a legislator, but not a tyrant. Just about 2,600 years ago, he promulgated the first written legal code for the city of Athens. And the Draconian Code was a doozy.
According to Plutarch, “Draco’s laws… were too severe, and the punishment[s] too great; for death was appointed for almost all offences, insomuch that those that were convicted of idleness were to die, and those that stole a cabbage or an apple to suffer even as villains that committed sacrilege or murder. So that Demades, in after time, was thought to have said very happily, that Draco’s laws were written not with ink but blood; and he himself, being once asked why be made death the punishment of most offences, replied, ‘Small ones deserve that, and I have no higher for the greater crimes.'”
Anyway, Gessler was cruel, particularly in his treatment of fathers. For failing to kneel to a hat, Tell was forced to choose between execution and shooting an apple off of his son’s head. Another father was blinded for not informing on his son. It’s clear that to Schiller and the Swiss who regard Tell as a hero, one’s allegiance to family is far more important than one’s allegiance to civil authority. A hierarchy of values that Gessler, like most civil authorities, resented.
Beer of the week: Wolters Pilsner – Tell was Swiss and his son was called Walter. This beer is German and is called Wolters. Close enough? I want to like Wolters more. The brand was acquired by the international beer behemoth InBev a while back, but has since become independent once again. Unfortunately they make a pretty average German pils. It is pale gold, with a quickly fading head of large bubbles. The aroma is faint, and primarily of malt. Nothing special. Also, it’s been a while since I complained about the “German Purity Law” as a marketing gimmick, but this beer is another offender. “Hops extract” was almost certainly not invented yet when the Reinheitsgrebot was enacted, yet it is an ingredient in this beer that is purportedly “brewed in strict accordance to the German Purity Law.” (Which, by the way, is not draconian, because it is not enforced at all.)
Reading of the week: William Tell by Friedrich Schiller, Act One, Scene One – Although Gessler is clearly the villain of the play, the Swiss may have driven him to his cruelty. The first act of defiance by Tell is helping the murderer of a government official escape justice. (To be fair, we learn that the murder was committed in response to “unseemly overtures” the official had made to the killers wife, which lends further support to the reading that the real moral of the play is to prioritize familial loyalty over obedience to civil authority.) But everybody that the murderer encounters in this scene approves of the killing and is willing to aid him in making his escape. Gessler must rule with an iron fist if the people will not even consent to the prosecution of an axe murderer. (Did I mention that the murder was committed by cleaving the official’s skull with an axe?)
Question of the week: Criminal penalties generally serve four purposes: rehabilitation, retaliation, prevention (preventing the offender from offending again by being incarcerated, incapacitated, or dead), deterrence (setting an example to deter others from offending.) How does one even begin to balance those objectives?