Ramblings: Philosophy, Methodology and Certainty.

It was the promise of accuracy that drew me to philosophy. The promise of being able to look into something as messy as an argument and identify clear winners and losers. Ironically it was a scientist, not a philosopher, who got me hooked.  I remember reading the God Delusion as a teen and being floored by Richard Dawkins as he reasoned his way to concrete conclusions on abstract topics like God and morality. For a long time this was what I thought philosophy actually delivered: a systematic grilling of suppositions that removed fuzziness from elusive subjects via cold logical necessity.

 

Of course neither philosophy nor logic operate in the way my young self envisioned them. Noting that the premises "A" and "A therefore B" provide you with the conclusion "B" is all very well, but working in real time to demonstrate the soundness of even a simple modus ponens can be difficult. The problem stems from different people's propensity to entertain selected premises with varying levels of enthusiasm. Not only that but people, philosophers especially, often end up arguing about the appropriateness of various linguistic conventions within which a premise might be expressed.  

This observation is mildly troubling to anyone of a similar disposition to my younger quasi-neo-positivist self. If arguments are to be disputed effectively in a dialogue of pure logic then the participants need to share the appropriate premises. The sheer extent to which philosophers fail to share premises, including fundamental ones like those governing concept identity, somewhat undercuts the idea that philosophy is an activity of just applying logic and coming to a conclusion.

It is important to note however that this isn't a problem for the broader application of logic within philosophy. Instead it is a problem for notions of philosophical truth attempting to approximate "certain truth". Cartesian demons aside, there is a distinction between scientific truth and philosophical truth. While the outer rims of scientific inquiry are uncertain places science does provide us with facts like "water at sea level boils when it hits 100 degrees Celsius"; these are things that philosophy doesn't provide. Even the most instrumental of fields, applied ethics, rarely confronts us with anything like a philosophical consensus out of which could emerge a "fact".

This wide zone of disagreement is a product of philosophical arguments being dependent on premises which are themselves nestled into wider networks of related philosophical arguments which in turn are nestled in even wider networks... ad infinitum... Or maybe not quite ad infinitum, but these chains are long enough and often so complex that tracing them may as well be an infinite endeavour. So, where does this leave philosophers?

Well, assuming that we don't have time to sit debating the truthfulness of every connected premise in a given argument then we will just have to assume certain premises. Of course which premises we question and which we accept are determined by our aforementioned predilections. Furthermore while the arena of debate often acts as an aid forcing us to defend premises that we would otherwise assume to be true, it's efficacy is limited: opponents in a debate only point us towards premises that they would question, not necessarily the premises we should question. 

In light of this I don't think we can position philosophy as the provider of linearly accrued capital K "Knowledge". Philosophers cannot snatch certainty from the jaws of the abstract. Yet maybe they can offer something that is more contingent and perhaps just as illuminating. Philosophical debates rarely end, but they are often developed and deepened. A more realistic goal for philosophy may just be to properly delineate the gaps in our knowledge and provide a selection of placeholders in lieu of definite answers.  

Cut-Throat's Pre-emptive Round Up of 2015

Work, independent research and life has made writing here tricky and, I fear with the new year nearing, my posting will only get more sporadic. January-February time is doctoral funding season and work has already begun with my supervisor on my own applications; accordingly I figured that it was worthwhile doing a pre-emptive round up in case I don't have time for it come hectic December. Perhaps I could have pushed this back another month or so but then again this may make for a good ear-marking of the 2000 view milestone that I just hit: I have no idea whether 2000 views in the first 8 months is good or bad in terms of blogs but it feels sufficiently significant.

Procedurally, the process for this post will involve picking one fiction and one non-fiction book alongside one album to stage as particular highlights of the year. None of these works came out in 2015 but they are nonetheless the highlight of my own personal exploration in culture this year. So, moving beyond the fanfare...

Fiction Pick of the Year

Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh

Welsh, for a long time, has sat on the shelf in my mind labelled "must get round to him someday" and it was a pleasure to finally read him. Trainspotting is a landmark of contemporary Scottish culture which is one of the reasons I wanted to read it: when I lived in Sweden there were a surprising number of people with a strange interest in it; though generally they had seen the film rather than waded through the Scottish accent that characterises the prose. I get the feeling that their fascination was spawned by a morbid curiosity as to how a culture could produce and love a work so notoriously self-loathing.

However, the reputation that Welsh has garnered makes the actual content of the book all the more surprising. In places it is strikingly human and demonstrates a sympathy and keen eye for the foibles, roots and pathologies of its characters. Renton, the narrator focused on in the film but who is one of many in the book, has a clear rebellious streak that occasionally bleeds over into a churlish teenage nihilism but even at his worst has interesting things to say. It's a rather trite cliche but the film really isn't as good as the book; or at least it isn't as in depth. There are startlingly jarring moments such as the feminist-esque parable "The Elusive Mr Hunt" which show a more careful eye for social interaction than that which was allowed onto the silver-screen. I enjoyed it thoroughly and it has thrown my previous perceptions of the author.

Non-Fiction Pick of the Year

The Elements of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth

For the past couple of months I have been experimenting more and more with writing guides; this one is far more of a style book than it is a grammar guide. As Forsyth points out, good grammar isn't necessarily always good writing. Academically, Steven Pinker's "The Sense of Style" - itself a brilliant use of descriptive linguistics to create a field manual in good, readable grammar - has probably been more helpful but The Elements of Eloquence is just so much more fun.

The emphasis is very much on having fun with the English language, its rhythms, sounds and various effects. It may not have clued me in on how to perfect my past and present tenses or navigate the various pratfalls of plurals but it certainly re-ignited the fire in my belly for constructing some good memorable prose.  

Album Pick of the Year

Knowledge is Power by Akala

 I have remarked on this blog a number of times about my quest to search out and enjoy new music this year. In light of such talk I think it's only fair to include an album of the year in my round up. One particular genre, which has lead me to reconsider poetry, is hip-hop. I started watching battle rap about a year and a half ago and was blown away at, sexism and homophobia aside, just how witty a lot the rappers were. 

Akala however, I found through the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle: Boyle invited Akala on to a programme of his in order to talk about racism in the U.K. As you might have guessed Akala is a "conscientious rapper" with a lot his themes and lyrics drawing from the speeches and writings of Malcom X. In particular he has a desire to speak truth to the powerless rather than wasting his breath on the powerful. In this album his focus seems to be on inspiring working class youth, particularly non-white working class youth, to engage in political, social and personal activities that benefit themselves and their communities rather than the owners of capital. Interestingly Akala interprets the role of the modern conscious MC through the tradition of the African Griot, a curator of cultural knowledge, and this no doubt feeds into his role as part of the hip-hop Shakespeare company. I could go on and on, but both the depth of his subject matter and his lyricism when discussing it has made this album a real stand out.

Closing Remarks

As remarked in the title and introduction this is a pre-emptive list. It is only as definitive in so far as I don't update it later in the year, though much of my work will be focused on political philosophy for the next few months and I don't anticipate reading much fiction anytime soon.

"Rethinking Democracy" By Carol Gould: First Thoughts On Reading

 It is a tragedy that this kind of political philosophy is so overlooked. Carol Gould is one of the few authors out there who takes democracy seriously enough to construct a theory from it, and yet her work is often missed when reviewing the literature. Despite the fidelity of Gould's work to the democratic project she barely makes it into the democracy entry on the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy except as a foot-note. In fact the theories of democracy that are touched on in the SEP are largely restricted to liberal, neo-liberal and aristo-monarchic positions.

So why has the work of Gould and her peers been so ignored?

Personally I think the problem lies with its ambigious classification and heritage. The arguments that Gould offers are too radical to fit in with the liberalism of Rawls and Dahl yet too reformist to be discussed alongside Anarchism. Furthermore, theories of participatory democratic theory are so multifaceted in terms of their origins that it is very difficult to slot them into one singular account of modern democratic theory, ergo they are often left out. 

Pragmatically speaking, this kind of book would be very informative for those interested in anarchism: in so far as it delineates an actual modus operandi for future "liberated territories". While Gould does retain both the state and the market as methods of organisation they are so augmented by the time she re-formulates them that they can barely be considered to be the kind of things that anarchists rail against. Her view of a democratic economy, for instance, largely mirrors anarcho-syndicalism (though it is never described in such terms) and her approach to governance consists of bottom up participatory structures. In short, the market that Gould wants is a socialist one and the territorial governance that she envisions needs little tweaking to defy conventional anarchist critiques.

It's not all one way traffic though. Gould's model of democracy could learn a few things from anarchism vis-a-vis institutional practises. Her vision of democratic participation, the actual making of decisions, seems to be focused on conversations followed by, what one would assume to be, a majority vote. Her theory's defence against majoritarian tyranny and persistent minorities is simply an appeal to the democratic character of its subjects. The anarchist tradition could offer here both a model of consensus decision making and an emphasis on decentralisation in order to build a more robust systemic response to the various upsets that can result from majority rule.

The social ontology and the ethical underpinnings of her theory remind me of Susan Neiman's "Why Grow Up?": at its core there's a really invigorating vision of humans as creative beings seeking self-betterment. In line with this, the book's content rests on a moral conception of self-determination as a requirement for human self-development. Gould rejects both liberal individualism and socialistic holism for an intermediate ontology that views humans as individuals whose identities are understood, pursued and realised through social relationships.


In terms of economic justice, this social ontology provides her with a twin pronged attack. If the purpose of freedom is self-development then this defends both "welfarism" and worker control of the means of production. "Welfarism" is justified on the grounds that everyone is entitled, where possible, to the resources that make self-development possible and the "rights to worker control" become justified where work is a social activity in which self-development takes place.

The book is strikingly comprehensive. "Rethinking Democracy" deals with topics as varied and concrete as the relationship between freedom and equality; the role of technical expertise in participatory democracy,  and the consequences Gould's theory has for debates surrounding global interventionism. If you want an idea of how anarchist principles might play out in a future society, but can't stand the more tendentious elements of anarchist rhetoric, then this is a worthwhile read.

"The Utopia of Rules" by David Graeber: First Thoughts on Reading

David Graeber has two distinct strengths: an ability to overturn common intuitions about everyday institutions and an extraordinarily affable rhetorical style. This book trades out on the latter in order to produce something a little more conceptually in depth. Accordingly, the book's primary thrusts are explicitly anarchist, heavy in theory and come with a social theory orientation that may make the books content too niche for Graeber's usual audience. Yet despite the denser prose The Utopia of Rules is a success that displays trenchant thoughtfulness on the topic of bureaucracy; to be clear, I'm not certain whether he's correct all of the time but he certainly is interesting.


Graeber's reason for writing a book on such a dull subject is given by the way of a hypothesises for why right wing movements often sequester the anti-establishment ticket in the face of left wing opposition. Graeber's contention is that left wing movements rarely produce a critique of bureaucracy, despite leftism being, according to Graeber, an anti-bureaucratic project. Such a reading of modern politics stands in stark contrast to more orthodox understandings of the topic. Since the soviet era onwards, political economy has often been thought of in terms of competing left wing desires for social justice and right wing desires for freedom. The respective drawbacks being either the brutality of right wing policy or the stifling bureaucracy of left wing institutions.

Advancing Graeber's account of leftism while overturning the above dichotomy he notes that bureaucracy has infested almost all organisations (not just the governmental) and that the roots and realities of bureaucracy run contrary to leftist ideals (humanism, pacifism, equality etc). Further development of this account sees Graeber make use of feminist theory. The feminist reading being that the function of bureaucracy is to provide tools for the powerful to monitor and control their subjects and that those in power generally do not need to understand their subordinates as said subordinates are often at the mercy of those in power. Ergo, the reason so much of our paperwork and protocol bears no resemblance to reality is that it is often in service to a power pre-occupied with controlling rather than assisting or understanding.

Graeber argues that alongside an avalanche of pointless paperwork, bureaucracy presents other more pernicious problems for the human race. In particular, it denies humans the possibility of organic social progress thereby crushing our libratory potential. It is when the lawyers turn up that a social movements death knell is properly wrung. In short, integrating social movements into a bureaucracy provides the people in charge with the ability to subsume anti-authoritarian movements; this little trick cajoles the group into conforming to the legal constraints of the very system that they intend to fight. For instance, a group of politically motivated squatters may successfully defend themselves from eviction and get the local council to grant them legal protection. But this legal protection requires the squatters to be integrated into a number of bureaucratic systems (such as regulatory housing bodies, land registries) which quickly force a hierarchy of signatories onto the squatters - both negating their anti-hierarchical modus operandi and leaving them at the behest of local governments and banks.

These restrictive outcomes of expanding bureaucracy are sometimes intended. Graeber makes note of figures such as George Gilder and Newt Gingrich: people who bureaucratised research projects with the aim of restricting the radical potential latent in the emergent technologies of yore. It is sections like these that leave me desiring  a more forward and visible referencing style. I'm sure there is plenty of truth to what Graeber says but these more conspiratorial sections would benefit from references being cited and discussed in the body of the text rather than just tacked on as annotations. 

 

It is not all doom and gloom however, Graeber, as promised in the book's blurb, offers up an explanation for why we secretly love bureaucracy. Articulating the idea that within bureaucracy is the romantic promise of a world operating by principles of impartiality and reason he concedes that there is something worth salvaging here. Graeber further emphasises that this utopian vision can be pursued without abandoning anarchist living arrangements. The often cited, and just as frequently misunderstood,  essay "The Tyranny of Structurelessness" is raised in aid of such a discussion.

It's hard for me to dislike almost anything that Graeber does. The neutral tone that he presents his arguments in and its infusion with his general warmth and good humour makes him a fantastic champion for anarchism: a movement often associated with dour nihilism. Finding myself soothed by the quality of his presentation I now question whether I can honestly critique him. To my star struck eyes this book is intelligent, comprehensive and novel: easily worth the money spent and time passed book in hand. My only real criticism is that in the aforementioned sections where "who did what" takes precedence over abstract social theory he risks sounding off like Noam Chomsky- allow me to elaborate. Chomsky, as a political writer, provides his audience with a horrifying vision of contemporary politics. His downfall is making of bold claims about U.S. foreign policy while supporting them with references that are rarely explicitly discussed in the text. Graeber teeters close to falling into the same trap of having his work appear a mite less credible than it would have been if he had discussed his sources more openly.

In fairness this book hasn't really garnered the hype that it deserves. The blurb of the book is dotted with quotes in praise of Graeber's earlier work Debt and this is generally not a good sign. I often hesitate to purchase books marketed in this way, taking it as an indication that this is the authors "problem child". Perhaps this is what has put others off the book but then again the subject matter is ostensibly boring which would make for a more likely explanation. Regardless an interesting, if niche, read.