Blog 11 -- 3/19/14

A question I was left with following the conclusion of our discussion on “The Grand Inquisitor” concerns that of the relationship between man’s freedom and his freedom of conscience (specifically with respect to good and evil). At first glance, I see how the latter may be considered a subsidiary of the former, and how freedom of conscience and man’s freedom (as a whole) may influence each other. My initial assumption was freedom of conscience was simply a supporting argument for the overarching theme of man’s freedom. Why, then, would Dostoevsky—despite being only a single line—make such a profound distinction between the two ideas, as seen on page 54 of Solomon’s Existentialism? The Grand Inquisitor asserts, “Without a stable conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living, and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance” (54). Prior to this statement, the cardinal speaking seems to suggest that it is the earthly bread, a symbol of worship, which gives man reason to live. This is to say that bread alone, a gift worthy of unrequited worship, cannot sustain man. The cardinal continues by introducing the related, but entirely independent, concept of freedom of conscience. The distinction between the two ideas becomes evident in light of man’s willingness to renounce Him when faced with free choice, as discussed on page 55. If, then, man is willing to dismiss earthly bread in the absence of an object to follow, and humanity is also willing to deny His image and truth when confronted with free choice (regarding good and evil), is he (man) openly willing to serve the anti-Christ provided earthly bread is bestowed upon the masses and the distinctions between good and evil (presumably presented as the latter [evil] and deviations from it considering the nature of the anti-Christ) are made accessible? (Both of which, in reflecting on Satan’s authority and abilities in the Bible, seem for him/her a feasible operation).

Yours Tru.ly

Blog 10 -- 3/17/14

I will start by saying that I am by no means convinced that the alignment of desire and reason will lead to an entirely foreseeable way-of-life. While I agree that should the two paradigms ubiquitously converge man would lose all identity and freedom-of-choice, I do not foresee the entirety of humanity being subjected to this lifestyle. If anything, certain populations or even sub-populations may one day endorse such predetermined existence, but definitely not everyone. The fact that Dostoevsky's logic requires an all-or-nothing investment to hold true lends itself to never actually being fulfilled (in the sense of absolute rationalization, and thus total elimination of desire); this is true because if those guided by reason and those guided by desire were to ever coexist (which I am suggesting to be the furthest extreme to which reason reigns over man, and no more), then provided Dostoevsky's rationale for a rational world as being wholly predetermined, the tabulated lifestyle of reason would not hold up against the unpredictability of desire. In other words, so long as desire exists to introduce stochasticity into the world, the nature of man is incalculable regardless of the mathematical predictions associated with rational living.

Another theme I wish to touch upon is that of ingratitude and its relation to the text. Dostoevsky argues that we are desirous because we are ungrateful, a proposition with which I agree; however, in making the connection between desire and reason, Dostoevsky implicitly requires that we assume ungratefulness and reason are equally at odds, which I must contest. If I may: Since when can the prototypical wise-man who stole away to the mountain-top for solitary reflection not be ungrateful for the burden with which he has been endowed as sage to those afflicted by mundane matters that so often abuse his prowess (assume he is considered wise because he is rational)?

Yours Tru.ly

Blog 9 -- 3/5/14

Week 8 Blog 2 – Truman Combs

In a brief dialogue between Seth and Ben, those in attendance were exposed to the epitome of the debate over whether or not language is necessary for thought. I’m not one to straddle-the-fence, but I would argue both positions are circumstantially observable in nature. Seth introduces the discussion by suggesting that humans are capable of engaging in thought without the need to first consult the language associated with those particular ideas. Conversely, Ben argues that regardless of whether or not we are conscious of it (in fact, I would say that this step is fulfilled subconsciously by most), unspoken thought still relies on linguistics—without which, thoughts would not develop as they do.

The position I take on the matter is somewhat of a synthesis of the two aforementioned. As far as Seth’s logic goes, I believe that for people who do not possess a language (i.e. indigenous populations) are capable of this type of linguistic-less ideation, but not us, or any other population possessing language-based communication for that matter. I would argue that for populations dependent on these more developed forms of communication, language has become such a significant part of our lives that language and thought become somewhat inseparable. This is to say that, as Ben suggests, language always precedes thought—even if instantaneously and subconsciously—and, in considering just how developed one’s vocabulary is, may actually limit it. However, I also believe that Seth’s position serves to restrict the application of Ben’s point given the existence of populations that do not possess such a dependency. They do, however, exhibit the ability to form ideas and exchange thoughts, whereby refuting the absolutism of Ben’s position. 

Blog 8 -- 3/3/14

If we are to assume that a slave is to the herd as an individual is to a master, then I take issue with a statement presented by one of the day’s speakers who says “you can’t have an individual before the herd.” I disagree. I think what Nietzsche means is that for the vast majority of people, for those initially endowed with the herd morality, this is the case. What about those who possess the master morality from the outset? The conclusion made by the aforementioned speaker presupposes all of humanity follows the same basic trajectory: Humans all start out as having the slave morality and either transcend into a state of master morality, or remain static within the herd. The problem I have with this stems from the nature versus nurture debate insomuch that there exist inherent differences between individuals that are not the product of environmental exposure. This is an important point because it touches on the distinctions that are evident within the master morality. While there certainly exists a hierarchy of sorts within the herd—characterized by a continuum of progression representing the path along which a slave may find himself in his journey toward becoming a master—this differs greatly from the hierarchy witnessed among masters. Here we can see that the “extent” of mastery is far more discrete. This results from the nature of what it means to be an individual, a master. Whereas those subscribing to the herd all lack the same quality, the will to power, individuals classified as masters differ in their objectives, and thus in their extent of mastery. This lends itself to some notable inconsistencies within the master morality, making it much more subject to externalities (that may or may not influence the trajectory of the individual).

Yours Tru.ly