Cut Throat's Third Quarterly Review of 2016

The final quarter of 2016 is upon us and it is time to retrospectively assess the second half of the year. My initial resolutions for 2016 can be found here, and June's "half time" review of those resolutions can be found here. On with the show...

1. Reading, Writing and Running.

Now that I have picked up Judo and MMA again I no longer have any need for running. My exercise regime splits my week into three rest days and four days of workout; this has been the greatest success of 2016's resolutions so far. Exercise has finally been properly integrated into my lifestyle with an intensity and purpose that makes it both efficient and fun. After spending nearly two years drifting around in limbo, I am finally back in shape.

Progress with both my writing and reading has been encouraging but inconsistent. Reading wise, I have managed to stave off the temptation to buy new books, and have gotten close to clearing my home libraries gargantuan back-log; writing wise, I have begun work on a novella and am enjoying the process of writing poetry. I have begun experimenting with the integration of reading and writing into my morning ritual, this has worked well so far.

2. Get Techie.

No progress here, and little intent to improve. Back in January I thought I had a relatively stripped down set of resolutions. Bizarrely, I didn't spot the folly in wrapping up "read more, write more and run more" under one heading while also expecting to learn computer programming and progress with my cookery at the same time. I have come to my senses and abandoned this resolution in order to better pursue the other two.

3. Get Foodie.

Most of this year in the kitchen has been spent honing the elementary crafts and skills of world cuisine. In particular, mastering simple dishes and processes to the point that I can guarantee a consistent level of quality in terms of homemade curry/pizza/stir-fry/grill meals/omletes etc.

I have also, since getting back into combat sport, moved onto a more calorically restrictive diet. This is less of a stumbling block than you would imagine. The crux of good cookery is in making mediocre things taste great; learning to cook and learning how to enjoy food, that isn't drowned in butter and animal fat, work surprisingly well as a complimentary set of practices.

Lessons Learned.

The maxim "Do Less, Achieve More" was uttered at the beginning of this year: I have only recently begun to take it seriously. Accordingly, I will not pick up any skills in computer programming this year and will focus on consolidating the progress I have made in other fields.

Another life lesson is that if you want to incorporate a new activity into your life you need to properly alot a time and place for it. For example, getting and staying in shape is now fairly easy. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I go to a training session where I can wrestle, puff and lurch myself through endless tai-otoshis and juji-gatames and go home knowing I have had a good evenings workout. After that, all I need to do is work one more exercise session into my weekly schedule and I have met my target.

It's a shame I won't pick up any tech skills but I really should leave it until I am finished working on other areas of my life. What I really miss is the opportunity to engage in an activity with marked cognitive benefits. Meditation appeals to me for similar - but still different - reasons, and would probably be easier to fit into a daily routine. Well... there is always next year.

Can Science Swallow Philosophy?

Why do people ask this question? More specifically, why is the prospect of replacing philosophy with science so exciting?



The most obvious answer is that science "works", and that it is difficult to say the same for philosophy. Not because philosophy is useless but because the contributions of philosophy are necessarily oblique. Philosophy provides a theoretical substrate on which useful stuff can be built. A sad consequence of this is that philosophy is rarely the knight in shining armour which raises living standards and/or puts man on the moon. By comparison, modern science has only been around for a couple of hundred years and since then has significantly boosted humanity's understanding and power over the world.  From this, rather naive, point of view it is understandable then that some might relish the thought of empirical annexation at the expense of philosophers.

You will be unsurprised to hear that I loathe this kind of the question. Primarily because it concieves of science and philosophy in a very wrongheaded way. The whole notion of a scientific takeover of  philosophical terroritory is nonsense.* Philosophy cannot be annexed by science, both because its territory is so qualitively distinct from that of science and because of how vital that rationalist terrotory is to science's progress. Try imagining, for example, the scientific method without Hume or Locke. In fact generally philosophers and scientists work quite well in applying their skills in eachothers fields.

Science cannot swallow philosophy, anymore than philosophy can swallow science. Neither evidence nor rationality can explain away one another. We are condemned to philosophise. But if philosophy and science cannot be sensibly put in competition - since they are co-dependent processes - then precisely what are the annexers proposing? I will be honest here: I do not know. Most of the proposed attempts at a scientific purge of philosophical issues, that I have seen are incredibly vague. Especially with regards to how science would actually deal with important philosophical issues. More often than not the proposed solution implies steamrollong over philosophical debates as though they were non-existent. Case in point, "The Moral Landscape" by Sam Harris.

In this book, which purports to provide scientific solutions to moral problems, Harris' shows us, among other things, that we can scientifically measure pain - provided we make the reasonable assumption that qualia can be mapped onto biology. This is quite an unimportant observation as far as ethics is concerned - although fans of Harris seem to think it has earth-shattering implications.

Why am I not similarly impressed? Because the actual philosophical questions of import: Should pain be the deciding moral metric? Why should we be moral? etc - are left totally unresolved by Harris' framework. In order to accept the argument that hurting animals is wrong I need to accept that pain is of moral import regardless of who/what feels it. The fact that we can measure and track the brain states of a pig, and compare them with that of a human, is quite irrelevent to the actual moral debate. "The Moral Landscape" is a book that discusses evidence for certain empirical questions of possible interest to philosophers. It is, however, not a vindication of noveua logical positivism. The philosophical questions, the ones which an ethical response is suppose to answer, are left relatiely untouched. In response to Harris I would refer him to his horseman peer Daniel Dennet and his remark that:

"... there is no such thing as philosophy-free science; there is only science whose philosophical baggage is taken on board without examination."

Philosophy is necessary; worse, it is inevitable. But that does not mean that "Academic Philosophy", one current reification of rational inquiry, is beyond methodological reproach. There are no doubt many academic philosophers who do not have enough of a grasp of science to be as useful as they could be. I am also as convinced that there are plenty of scientists not as au fait with the philosophy as they need to be in order to reason properly about the implication of their own research. In this respect I am all in favor of promoting science within philosophy as a way of resolving empirical questions that have an impact on philosophical issues, and promoting the role that philosophy plays in directing and understanding empirical research. What I do object to is the notion that philosophy and science should be understood as two parties in a turf war. Considering their intellectual codepedency, I see no benefit in waging civil war.

*Of course, there are cases of early philosophers attempting to answer scientific questions - Aristotle, for example - only to later have their questions answered by actual science. But this is more  a case of actual science swallowing early pseudo-science rather than a case of philosophy qua philosophy being pushed to the margins.

The Problem with Mr Taleb - Antifragile Review

In Antifragule, the economist, philosopher and options-trader Nassim Nicholas Taleb sets out to articulate the principles of "that which gains from disorder". Along the way he discusses a number of other topics, such as iatrogenics and the importance of acknowledging our inability to plan for black swans. There is a varying level of originality in the book's observations - the principle of planning while keeping unpredictability in mind is a fairly old one. In saying that, conceptualising unpredictability as an engine for growth may actually be a new idea.  Even the unoriginal points that Taleb expounds on, highlight ideas that don't received a lot of public attention so Taleb's mentioning of them is still quite welcomed.

The most contentious parts of Antifragile are found in the sections where Taleb argues that academic research comes after, not before, human progress has been made. The tinkerers shall inherit the earth, the nerds know nothing. New medicines are "discovered" by private firms far more often than in publically funded laboratories (p.231), and we should take note of the huge technological innovation that happens in the playground of Silicon Valley (p.42). The question as to whether private firms simply patent/develop more variations of already existent drugs, as opposed to discovering new ones, is left unexplored; as is the tech industry's infamous reliance on publically funded research programs to develop their gadgets. Outside of that, the brash and aggressive writing style, that Taleb is known for, is very prominent. Almost every negative review I have read of Taleb's work mentions his preening arrogance and even the positive reviews often concede this point. Initially, I wanted to conduct a review of Antifragile that didn't dissect his personality. Alas, I have found that to be a difficult task, if only because so much of Antifragile attempts to communicate Taleb's vision of himself.

There is a clear and carefully curated persona on display: Taleb is a cultured, wine drinking, straight talking, poetry loving, power lifter. He is a lone wolf - uninterested in your awards and approval. He tells it like it is. He is streetwise, well-read and cultured, but under no circumstances to be thought of as a nerd. Taleb is manly and brave. Taleb is a man of action, not like those other scholars with their spectacles and atrophied muscle. On its own, this kind of chest-thumping would be a mere annoyance, inconsequential to the quality of the scholar's work; unfortunately, it seems it has bled into the content of Taleb's writing, to the detriment of his argument's credibility.    

Consider Taleb's chapter on the ethics of risk taking. The ethics section of Antifragile lays out a maxim for moral behaviour that focuses on keeping the collateral of risks limited to those who volunteer their own skin. People who risk their own good for others, are heroes; those who risk their own good for their own gain, are passable humans and those who risk others for their own gain, are villains - according to Taleb. To elucidate on the consequences of this moral outlook, Taleb handily provides  us with a table (p.377) which places various professions - artist, writer, businessman, soldier - into one of three columns. The columns are "no skin in the game" (bad), "skin in the game" (neutral) and "skin in the game for others sake" (good). The table however, seems somewhat arbitrary. For example: journalists who analyse and predict events are in the bad column, activists are neutral and rebels and revolutionaries are good.

Why are journalists bad, but activists neutral when both seek to predict and comment on society? It is true that we rarely hold journalists accountable for their failed predictions, but we hold activists accountable even less. A journalist risks embarrassing themself on a public stage; conversely, most activists are voices in an otherwise anonymous crowd. The only real difference between the two is respectability, but that is a matter of scale and Taleb's claim is that there is something qualitatively different in the way they externalise risks. Furthermore why on earth would Taleb place revolutionaries automatically in the good column? Revolutionaries may believe that good things await everyone in the coming social order but the consequences of failed revolutions are well documented. We have every reason to think that the revolutionaries risk the wellbeing of everyone not just themselves - this is precisely the kind of behaviour that Taleb supposedly repudiates.

How then can we explain this bizarre ranking, inferred from the table, that revolutionaries are the most virtuous risk takers when compared to activists and, certainly, in comparison to journalists? The answer is by appealing to Taleb's persona. Once we understand that revolutionaries, activists and journalists are not being ranked in accordance with their management of risks but rather in relation to a warrior/scholar archetype that Taleb identifies with, then the ranking starts to make more sense. Journalists are effete, sheltered members of the establishment; activists are scrappy underdogs but revolutionaries, the most macho of the three, fight wars and topple governments - they are, in Taleb's eyes, the most worthy of respect.

The irony is that Taleb's approach to ethics is, on the whole, quite plausible. I may have my doubts about it, I am not certain that we can ever really take risks entirely on our own, but it is a valid approach to doing ethics in an uncertain world. This is exactly what I mean when I say that Antifragile is a solid work burdened with poor and distracting set-dressing. Antifragile provides plenty of novel angles to work from, but their value is obscured by its author's desperation to be thought of as a scholarly mafioso.

While Taleb is smart enough to know that he should only allude to the mafia-like qualities of his persona, Mafia bosses are referenced to as exemplars of his observations (p.43). And late in the book Taleb makes the more bizarre claim that mafia dons have a form of honour that escapes contemporary leaders (p.376), in so far as Mafia bosses are the most likely to be whacked- or so goes Taleb's account of organised crime. Naturally this is nonsense. Even a casual reader can tell you that frequently the first to die in any given drug-war are the low-level dealers, and that criminal conspiracies are usually orchestrated to leave the higher-ups untouchable, if it all goes wrong. The crime-barons sit safe in their mansions reaping the dividends of their empire, while the youngsters, eager to prove themselves, are left with the dirty, dangerous and incriminating footwork on which the empire is built. The reality is the opposite of what Taleb thinks it to be, but the grim glamour of the macho mafia-don archetype sells it to Taleb and glosses over the lack of veracity.

Taleb, towards the end of the book, also advises readers to think for themselves and savages those who use the opinion of others to gather knowledge about the world (p.419-20), not long after defending tradition (p.257) and advising the reader to prioritise useful heuristics over abstract truth seeking. This is also ignoring that conformity itself is a heuristic. The behaviours and thoughts of others are an excellent resource for selecting a strategy in times of uncertainty. The gazelle that stops to ask "Why am I running just because everyone else is running?" is destined to become lion chow. Taleb thinks of himself as a street-wise "doer" concerned with what works over what is true, but also wants to be the principled, sceptical upstart - not realising that often these two ways of seeing the world come into conflict and that he needs to be much more flexible if he wants to mesh the two ways of thinking.

Most of these problems are just a result of Taleb's romanticised aesthetic crashing against the more reasoned parts of the book: blips of momentary incongruence generated by Taleb's posing as a refined, street-smart, independent scholar. When you step back from these blemishes you find that they are mostly negligible. Antifragile is still an interesting book and well worth reading. What is infuriating however, and what I have been trying to get across here, is that while Taleb may have convinced himself that his opponents are just stooges for the academic orthodox, it may be that the biggest thing standing in the way of Antifragile's credibility, is Mr Taleb himself.    

Thoughts on: Feminism, Eudemonia and The Philosophical Life.

Modern philosophy is an academic institution, not a way of life. This contrasts with its earlier reification where academies were far more reminiscent of religious sects than they were modern universities. Early philosophers, like the Stoics and Cynics, lived in communities that pursued eudemonia, a state of being attained through practise as often as it was through contemplation. Modern philosophy, by contrast, takes place in specialised university departments and is abstract, highly disciplined - motivated by a pay-check.*

This split between modern and ancient philosophical practises is partly a product of modern philosophy's formulation within academia, and particularly its formation within the context of scholarly specialisation. The early-modern demarcation of Natural Philosophy from Mental Philosophy, that gave birth to modern science, gave cause for philosophers to specify their role in relation to the newly emerging sciences. This is where the tradition of Analytic philosophy comes in to play. The Analytic school, often ambiguously referred to as the hand-maiden to science, championed a detached methodology intended to work in tandem with modern empiricism. It was a school of thought that initially went hand in hand with logical positivism and ultimately weathered many of the same criticisms.  Modelling themselves on the impartiality of science, Analytic philosophers embraced a rationalist methodology that emulated scientific values and aesthetics. 

But Moral and Ethical Philosophy, in particular, produce a form of discourse that is decidedly partial. Ethics makes up a large chunk of philosophy both in the disciplinary form of "Applied Ethics" and in the earlier more holistic sense of  eudemonia. It is a subject that asks us to change the way we interact with the world, which is distinct from scientific endeavours which are decidedly descriptive. Just as science and religion are often thought to be irreconcilable, so too are science and normativity. Analytically influenced ethicists have traditionally tried to resolve this idealistic tension by offering a form of philosophy that reads more like the prouct of an advisory panel than it does the outpouring an empassioned exemplar of human virtue.

Of course, despite the professional gloss, there are a number of analytic philosophers who have a personal stake in the arguments they present. Of particular interest are the feminists and their radical off-shoots who promote the interrogation of our preconceptions and celebrate conscious personal change. The rhetoric and literature surrounding identity politics, for example, often calls into question our ability to freely and objectively perceive others. Scepticism as a way of life then returns. Are female writers producing art that is less universal, and therefore less popular, or is their work simply not taken as seriously? Do I like masculine activities because I'm a man, or because I've been socialised to prefer them?

Within modern feminist praxis, and we'll limit ourselves to feminism for now, there is a continuation of early personal and transformative philosophy. A mode of philosophising where participants are invited to change their behaviour and interrogate their own perceptions of the world in pursuit of justice. The older notion of philosophical community can also be found in the modern concept of the affinity group: a collection of individuals who form relationships on the basis of their shared political affiliations.

In this way, the modern intersectional left has inherited the practise of philosophy as a critical approach to good living. Continental philosophy also, particularly Foucault, seems to have a strong tradition of practising philosophy with the intent to liberate. Once again leftism is a big part of that tradition: if only because the philosophical outlook tends to lend itself better to political outsiders than it does to members of the establishment. Outside of this there is a small cottage industry of pop-philosophy writers who aim to keep the transformative tradition of philosophy alive without getting too political. Susan Neiman, a Kantian ethicist, wrote a great book that I reviewed on this blog a while back; Alain De Botton continues to peddle his "Ways philosophy will heal/change you" shtick but a more recent book that I read on the subject was Prof James Miller's "The Philosophical Life".

Miller's book is a series of mini-biographies of famous philosophers throughout the ages. It is presented in the hope that these biographies will help revive the notion of philosophy as a way of life. The book's blurb boasts that it, "confirm[s] the continuing relevance of philosophy today", but what's notable about "The Philosophical Life" is that the most contemporary philosopher dissected is Nietzsche - a man who died over a century ago.

There is a strain of transformative philosophy alive today, but I wonder if its ideas are too contentious to be marketable outside the sphere of politics. Perhaps this sanitisation of transformative philosophy is what drives the critics of de Botton?  Eudemonia is intimately connected to ethics which is frequently bound up in political struggle. Attempting to secularise eudamonia may be what makes De Botton's writing seem so hollow; after-all, once you forgo the critique of your politico-economic reality, what's left outside of curmudgeonly Michael Foley stoicism?


* Okay, that last one was mean-spirited even it was, economically speaking, true.