John G. Messerly's Blog, page 70

April 1, 2018

Kahlil Gibran: Loneliness and Solitude

Khalil Gibran.jpgYour life is an island separate from all the other islands and regions. No matter how many are the ships that leave your shores for other climes, no matter how many are the fleets that touch your coast, you remain a solitary island, suffering pangs of loneliness and yearning for happiness. You are unknown to others and far removed from their sympathy and understanding.


A few paragraphs later Gibran concludes that solitude is the price we pay for being unique individuals. In his view, we could completely know another, and thus escape our solitude, only if we were identical with them. I’m not sure that conclusion follows but I do think he’s right that we are, at the deepest level, alone.


We can ameliorate this loneliness by sympathizing with and loving others, but we never clearly see the world from their point of view nor they from ours. I’ve had good friends, loving parents and children, but even they don’t know me nor do I know them completely. Even my wife and I, loving companions for almost forty years, remain partly mysterious to each other.


We might even say that we are strangers to ourselves too. But then the self isn’t alone so much as illusory. For who is this me that doesn’t know myself? Is that some other me? And is there another me that doesn’t that me? Such questions can be asked ad infinitum.


This is the flip side of saying that I do know myself. But who is this me that knows myself? Is that some other me? And is there is another me that knows that me? Again we confront an infinite regress.


In the end, I think we are both opaque and transparent to ourselves and to others. I think that’s because we are, simultaneously, both the same and different as everyone else, although I realize these statements are paradoxical. In the end, we just know so little about life. We live, not only alone but largely in the dark.


______________________________________________________________________


Personal Note – In one of the very first philosophy classes I took as an undergrad the Professor told us that this would be serious philosophy, not feel good stuff like … Gibran. Wow was I disheartened. I was only 18 and proud that I had read Gibran. Of course, I now know what the professor meant—good analysis is necessary for good philosophy and Gibran’s poetry was hardly analytical. But sometimes poetic language is so memorable as to sear an idea into the mind better than analytical prose. And that’s why I’ve always remembered those words. “Life is an island in an ocean of loneliness.”  A beautiful image of a profound insight.

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Published on April 01, 2018 01:55

Kahlil Gibran: Lonelines and Solitude

Khalil Gibran.jpgYour life is an island separate from all the other islands and regions. No matter how many are the ships that leave your shores for other climes, no matter how many are the fleets that touch your coast, you remain a solitary island, suffering pangs of loneliness and yearning for happiness. You are unknown to others and far removed from their sympathy and understanding.


A few paragraphs later Gibran concludes that solitude is the price we pay for being unique individuals. In his view, we could completely know another, and thus escape our solitude, only if we were identical with them. I’m not sure that conclusion follows but I do think he’s right that we are, at the deepest level, alone.


We can ameliorate this loneliness by sympathizing with and loving others, but we never clearly see the world from their point of view nor they from ours. I’ve had good friends, loving parents and children, but even they don’t know me nor do I know them completely. Even my wife and I, loving companions for almost forty years, remain partly mysterious to each other.


We might even say that we are strangers to ourselves too. But then the self isn’t alone so much as illusory. For who is this me that doesn’t know myself? Is that some other me? And is there another me that doesn’t that me? Such questions can be asked ad infinitum.


This is the flip side of saying that I do know myself. But who is this me that knows myself? Is that some other me? And is there is another me that knows that me? Again we confront an infinite regress.


In the end, I think we are both opaque and transparent to ourselves and to others. I think that’s because we are, simultaneously, both the same and different as everyone else, although I realize these statements are paradoxical. In the end, we just know so little about life. We live, not only alone but largely in the dark.


______________________________________________________________________


Personal Note – In one of the very first philosophy classes I took as an undergrad the Professor told us that this would be serious philosophy, not feel good stuff like … Gibran. Wow was I disheartened. I was only 18 and proud that I had read Gibran. Of course, I now know what the professor meant—good analysis is necessary for good philosophy and Gibran’s poetry was hardly analytical. But sometimes poetic language is so memorable as to sear an idea into the mind better than analytical prose. And that’s why I’ve always remembered those words. “Life is an island in an ocean of loneliness.”  A beautiful image of a profound insight.

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Published on April 01, 2018 01:55

March 28, 2018

Best Books on History

This is a list of some good books on history that I have read and recommend. For more information click on one of the links below.


• Will & Ariel Durant ~ The Lessons of History

• Will & Ariel Durant ~ The Story of Civilization (11 Volume Set) * (I have read parts of all these volumes but not the collection in its entirety.)

• Will & Ariel Durant ~ The Greatest Minds and Ideas of All Time

• Yuval Noah Harari ~ Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind[image error]

• Yuval Noah Harari ~ Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow[image error]

• Arnold Toynbee ~ A Study of History, (Complete 2 Volume Set)[image error]

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Published on March 28, 2018 01:14

March 24, 2018

Review of Setiya’s “Midlife: A Philosophical Guide”

[image error] [image error]


Kieren Setiya is a professor of philosophy at MIT. I just finished his Midlife: A Philosophical Guide[image error]. Here is a brief review.


As we approach midlife, even the successful among us wonder what we have missed and if our achievements are enough. Setiya begins with some general advice. He reminds us that missing out on things is part of life and that lost opportunities probably look better in retrospect. We can reconcile ourselves with the past by remembering that previous mistakes played a role in our subsequent achievements. Moreover, if we could change the past we might find the present would be worse. What we have now is likely better than what we conjure up in our imagination.


Setiya’s reflections on death are particularly thoughtful. He takes no comfort from Epicurus’ argument against fearing death. Instead, he accepts the deprivationist claim that death is bad because being dead deprives us of the good things of life. 


Now some people gainsay such worries, arguing that we should care no more about not existing after death than we now do about not existing before death. But, as he points out, those situations aren’t symmetrical. While most of us want to live indefinitely into the future, almost no one wants their lives extended indefinitely into the past. We prefer a day of suffering in the past to an hour of suffering in the future; we prefer an hour of pleasure in the future to a day of pleasure in the past. Death is no mirror of prenatal nonexistence.


Others claim that death is really good for us because immortality would be boring, hopeless, or meaningless. But for Setiya, people who say such things either really want to die or deceive themselves. He thinks it’s the latter—they adapt their preferences to what seems inescapable.  


Setiya notes that the desire for immortality isn’t always selfish—we want others not die too. We see that they have a value that we don’t want to be lost. Think about how you don’t want your children to die even long after you are gone. We can also apply this same logic to ourselves. We are valuable and hope that our lives aren’t extinguished either.


Philosophy can’t completely comfort us regarding death, but it helps us to see immortality as an unattainable superpower. (He doesn’t address or isn’t aware of various scientific ways we might defeat death.) Armed with this insight, we can still want the best for ourselves and others but reconciles ourselves to letting go. In short, we can accept mortality without denying life’s value.


(I don’t find Setiya’s conclusion satisfying. The fact is that happy, healthy people almost never want to die and are despondent upon receiving a death sentence. People cry at funerals of their loved ones, accepting death only because they think it’s inevitable. I doubt they would be so accepting if they thought it avoidable. Consider that, after all the books and knowledge, memories and dreams, cares and concerns, faces and voices, then suddenly … nothing. Is that really desirable? No. Death should be optional.) 


I do find Setiya’s response to Schopenhauer’s mistrust of desires convincing. Schopenhauer argued that if you don’ have desires you’re bored but if you have them you’re miserable because your desires are unsatisfied. For Setiya this implies that when we complete a project or reach a goal we have expelled that which gave meaning to our lives. Yes, we can find more projects but if we approach goals this way we are always trying to rid ourselves of what is good about the process of completing them. This insight leads to the salient theme of Setiya’s book.


The real challenge is coping, not with the past or future, but with the present. Rather than chasing happiness that lies in the future we should be content now. Here Setiya offers a strategy based on the distinction between telic and atelic activities. Telic actions aim at terminal states like finishing a book or building a statue, while atelic ones have no end but are valuable in themselves. When we complete the former we check them off our list and are done whereas the latter we do for their own sake. (Put another way, telic activities correspond to instrumental goods while atelic ones correspond to intrinsic goods.)


Setiya advises us to spend more time in atelic activities such as going for walks, conversing with friends, parenting, enjoying nature, or meditating. Even if you enjoy telic activities, try “to love their atelic counterparts, to find meaning in the process, not the project.” Otherwise, we are driven by projects that we don’t enjoy. In that case, completing our projects does eliminate the meaning they previously gave. However, if we enjoy the process of what we’re doing right now, then engaging in that process is itself rewarding.


Even if we want to eradicate suffering or otherwise improve the world such telic activities are given power by the atelic pleasure we derive from living in the present. We want the future to be better, but we should want the present to be better too. Thus we would be wise to adopt a more atelic orientation.


This is a simple but powerful insight. We shouldn’t always be chasing some happiness or contentment in the future, which will likely be followed by another chase. If we don’t find that inner peace now we aren’t likely to find it later. I thank Professor Setiya for his thoughtful book.

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Published on March 24, 2018 02:01

Review of Setiya’s “Midlife: A Philosophical Guide

[image error] [image error]


Kieren Setiya is a professor of philosophy at MIT. I just finished his Midlife: A Philosophical Guide[image error]. Here is a brief review.


As we approach midlife, even the successful among us wonder what we have missed and if our achievements are enough. Setiya begins with some general advice. He reminds us that missing out on things is part of life and that lost opportunities probably look better in retrospect. We can reconcile ourselves with the past by remembering that previous mistakes played a role in our subsequent achievements. Moreover, if we could change the past we might find the present would be worse. What we have now is likely better than what we conjure up in our imagination.


Setiya’s reflections on death are particularly thoughtful. He takes no comfort from Epicurus’ argument against fearing death. Instead, he accepts the deprivationist claim that death is bad because being dead deprives us of the good things of life. 


Now some people gainsay such worries, arguing that we should care no more about not existing after death than we now do about not existing before death. But, as he points out, those situations aren’t symmetrical. While most of us want to live indefinitely into the future, almost no one wants their lives extended indefinitely into the past. We prefer a day of suffering in the past to an hour of suffering in the future; we prefer an hour of pleasure in the future to a day of pleasure in the past. Death is no mirror of prenatal nonexistence.


Others claim that death is really good for us because immortality would be boring, hopeless, or meaningless. But for Setiya, people who say such things either really want to die or deceive themselves. He thinks it’s the latter—they adapt their preferences to what seems inescapable.  


Setiya notes that the desire for immortality isn’t always selfish—we want others not die too. We see that they have a value that we don’t want to be lost. Think about how you don’t want your children to die even long after you are gone. We can also apply this same logic to ourselves. We are valuable and hope that our lives aren’t extinguished either.


Philosophy can’t completely comfort us regarding death, but it helps us to see immortality as an unattainable superpower. (He doesn’t address or isn’t aware of various scientific ways we might defeat death.) Armed with this insight, we can still want the best for ourselves and others but reconciles ourselves to letting go. In short, we can accept mortality without denying life’s value.


(I don’t find Setiya’s conclusion satisfying. The fact is that happy, healthy people almost never want to die and are despondent upon receiving a death sentence. People cry at funerals of their loved ones, accepting death only because they think it’s inevitable. I doubt they would be so accepting if they thought it avoidable. Consider that, after all the books and knowledge, memories and dreams, cares and concerns, faces and voices, then suddenly … nothing. Is that really desirable? No. Death should be optional.) 


I do find Setiya’s response to Schopenhauer’s mistrust of desires convincing. Schopenhauer argued that if you don’ have desires you’re bored but if you have them you’re miserable because your desires are unsatisfied. For Setiya this implies that when we complete a project or reach a goal we have expelled that which gave meaning to our lives. Yes, we can find more projects but if we approach goals this way we are always trying to rid ourselves of what is good about the process of completing them. This insight leads to the salient theme of Setiya’s book.


The real challenge is coping, not with the past or future, but with the present. Rather than chasing happiness that lies in the future we should be content now. Here Setiya offers a strategy based on the distinction between telic and atelic activities. Telic actions aim at terminal states like finishing a book or building a statue, while atelic ones have no end but are valuable in themselves. When we complete the former we check them off our list and are done whereas the latter we do for their own sake. (Put another way, telic activities correspond to instrumental goods while atelic ones correspond to intrinsic goods.)


Setiya advises us to spend more time in atelic activities such as going for walks, conversing with friends, parenting, enjoying nature, or meditating. Even if you enjoy telic activities, try “to love their atelic counterparts, to find meaning in the process, not the project.” Otherwise, we are driven by projects that we don’t enjoy. In that case, completing our projects does eliminate the meaning they previously gave. However, if we enjoy the process of what we’re doing right now, then engaging in that process is itself rewarding.


Even if we want to eradicate suffering or otherwise improve the world such telic activities are given power by the atelic pleasure we derive from living in the present. We want the future to be better, but we should want the present to be better too. Thus we would be wise to adopt a more atelic orientation.


This is a simple but powerful insight. We shouldn’t always be chasing some happiness or contentment in the future, which will likely be followed by another chase. If we don’t find that inner peace now we aren’t likely to find it later. I thank Professor Setiya for his thoughtful book.

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Published on March 24, 2018 02:01

March 22, 2018

Best Books on Writing

These are the best books on writing that I have read. For more information click on one of the links below. (**Zinnser’s is the single best book on writing in my opinion.)


• Mortimer Adler ~ How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading …

• Harold Evans ~ Do I Make Myself Clear?: Why Writing Well Matters[image error]

• Steven Pinker ~ The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing …

• Strunk & White ~The Elements of Style, Fourth Edition

**William Zinsser ~ On Writing Well, The Classic Guide to Writing Non-Fiction **

• William Zinsser ~ Writing To Learn

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Published on March 22, 2018 01:36

March 18, 2018

Teacher Burnout

The teacher-student-monument in Rostock, Germany.


I can still remember the thrill of teaching my first college class over 30 years ago. I walked into the room wondering “What am I going to talk about for an hour, three times a week, for sixteen weeks?” As I soon found out, I could talk that long easily!


For the most part, I enjoyed teaching, but I’m glad to have put it behind me. For one thing, I can now concentrate on my scholarly thinking and writing, and for another, I was burned out of teaching toward the end of my career.


There were many contributing factors to my teacher burnout. First, many of the students in my introductory college courses didn’t want to be there—most of them took my philosophy classes to fulfill a requirement. So it was like teaching someone to play the piano or program a computer who doesn’t want to learn how, not an ideal situation. Looking back I wish that I could have gone into a class and said: “If you want to study and learn then we can do it together but if you don’t please leave.” No, I never said this but I admit I wanted to. Also, you meet a few nasty students when teaching.


Another factor is the inherent conflict surrounding grading. Most students care primarily about grades whereas I care about their learning. This led to occasional, dispiriting battles over grades. Moreover, the cumulative effect of teaching as many as 8 classes in a single semester slowly took its toll. This resulted from the fact that, in addition to a full load at my primary institution, I usually taught community college classes at night. In all, I estimate that I taught about 250 classes in my career covering 25 different subjects to a total of about 9,000 students.


A final factor had to do with the nature of philosophy itself. Philosophy is mostly about controversial topics like ethics, religion, and politics. Thus teaching it well forces such topics to be broached. As Spinoza put it: “I can’t teach philosophy without being a disturber of the peace.” That’s exactly right but the problem is that most students don’t want their peace disturbed. Add to this the current instability and hyper-partisan nature of American culture and the classroom is fertile ground for tension. I just tired of the conflict.


As for the students who wanted to learn, I enjoyed teaching and learning with them, and I remember many of them fondly. I say with all honesty that I did everything I could to contribute to their educations and would spend hours talking with them if that helped. Real education is something I believe in and I’d still teach today if I had interested students.


But now I feel about leaving teaching the way Thoreau did about leaving the woods.


“I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one.”

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Published on March 18, 2018 04:34

March 14, 2018

Good Books on Atheism and Agnosticism

These are some books on atheism and agnosticism that I recommend. For more information click on one of the links below.


• Alain De Botton ~ Religion for Atheists: A Non-believer’s Guide to the Uses of Religion

• Marshall Brain ~ How “God” Works: A Logical Inquiry on Faith

• Simon Critchley ~ The Faith of the Faithless: Experiments In Political Theology

• Richard Dawkins ~ The God Delusion

• Daniel Dennett ~ Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon

• Ronald Dworkin ~ Religion without God

• Greg Graffin ~ Anarchy Evolution: Faith, Science, and Bad Religion in a World Without …

•  A. C. Grayling ~ The Good Book: A Humanist Bible

• Sam Harris ~ The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason

• Sam Harris ~ Letter to a Christian Nation

• S. C. Hitchcock ~ Disbelief 101: A Young Person’s Guide to Atheism

• Christopher Hitchens ~ God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything

• Julian Huxley ~ Religion Without Revelation

• Philip Kitcher ~ Life After Faith: The Case for Secular Humanism

• Stephen Mitchell ~ Imagine There’s No Heaven: How Atheism Helped Create the …

• Michel Onfray ~ Atheist Manifesto: The Case Against Christianity, Judaism & …

• Bertrand Russell ~ Why I Am Not a Christian and Other Essays on Religion …

• Victor Stenger ~ God and the Folly of Faith: The Incompatibility of Science and Religion

• Mitchell Stevens ~ Imagine There’s No Heaven: How Atheism Helped Create the Modern … 

• Phil Torres ~ A Crisis of Faith – Atheism, Emerging Technologies and the Future of 

• Peter Watson ~ The Age of Atheists: How We Have Sought to Live Since the Death…

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Published on March 14, 2018 01:19

March 11, 2018

Summary of “Hunting the Nightmare Bacteria”

EscherichiaColi NIAID.jpg


I recently watched the PBS “Frontline documentary “Hunting the Nightmare Bacteria.” It investigates the rise of deadly drug-resistant bacteria. As the world health organization has recently reported, we may be heading for a post-antibiotic world where common infections will again kill.


Most of us realize that a big part of the problem is that most antibiotics are fed to livestock. Everyone knows that we shouldn’t engage in that practice but the agricultural and pharmaceutical lobbies are just too powerful to defeat on this issue. And those lobbies are interested in profit, not public health.


Perhaps lesser known is that few drug companies are developing new antibiotics because it is less profitable to develop antibiotics which are taken occasionally, as opposed to drugs that need to be taken regularly for conditions like blood pressure, cholesterol, hair loss, or erectile dysfunction. This is a classic example of how the market doesn’t always serve the individual’s best interests. We may get erections and hair but die from the effects of antibiotic-resistant bacteria.


How real is the problem? The CDC claims:


Each year in the United States, at least 2 million people become infected with bacteria that are resistant to antibiotics and at least 23,000 people die each year as a direct result of these infections. Many more people die from other conditions that were complicated by an antibiotic-resistant infection.


Only government research supported by tax dollars is likely to solve such large problems. The purpose of good government is to act in the interest of the common good. This is their raison d’être.


But private corporations answer to their shareholders—profit is their only concern. Need evidence? 1) Consider that while tobacco killed millions over decades, the tobacco industry actively covered up the problem since tobacco was a profitable product. But government slowly exposed the problem by placing constraints on the sale of tobacco and publicizing it as a public health hazard. 2) Consider that after decades of polluting the air, earth, and water, only the creation of the EPA stemmed the tide, successfully enacting measures to clean up the environment. 3) Consider the deadly effects of leaded gasoline, lead paint, and other lead products. Again industry profited, people died, and government saved us. And today, as global climate change proceeds unabated, fossil fuels companies and their allies again lie and deceive. And why not? It is profitable to burn fossil fuels. Only governmental power is likely to stop the ruination our fragile climate.


From an economic standpoint, even larger steps are probably needed including the creation of a new economic system or at least serious changes to our current one. Politically we needed more global cooperation or we should grant intergovernmental bodies like the IPCC or UN more power to make states comply with international law. The fact is that many problems we confront today cross international borders.


So thanks PBS for an informative documentary. It wasn’t profitable to investigate this for a small audience, and without adequate public funds you are forced to beg for money, but this broadcast performed a great public service. Thanks “public broadcasting system.”


Note – The NY Times published this op-ed about the documentary.

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Published on March 11, 2018 01:36

March 8, 2018