Cogito issue 1 2017

Gogit-

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Cogtio, I Think Semester 1 2017 Macquarie University Platonic Society cogito.i.think.magazine@gmail.com Magazine Administration: Edwin Chen Editors: Edwin Chen, Matthew Su, Christopher Whyte

Contents: 1 - 3 In Defence of Philosophy - Alexander McDonald

4 - 6 Marx and Rawls: Just Distribution,Exploita

tion, and Alienation - Alexander McDonald

7 - 9 Feminism and Liberal Theory: Rawls, Gen Reviewers:

der, and Family - Alexander McDonald Matthew Su, Christopher Whyte, Thomas Keywood 10 - 11 Romance: What’s Love got to do with it? -

Taylor-Jai McAlister Layout and Copy Editing: Christopher Whyte.

12 - 15 ‘Interstate of Nature’ Hobbes on The Road Nicholas Webb-Wagg Cover Artwork: Mattew Su 16 - 19 Emotional Contagion - Nicholas Webb-Wagg Contributers: Alexander McDonald, Taylor-Jai McAlister, Nicholas Webb-Wagg, Christopher Whyte, Mattew Su, Edwin Chen.

20 - 23 Epiphenomenal Qualia: Guilty Until proven

Innocent - Christopher Whyte 24 - 26 Is the Mind a Computational System?

Alexander McDonald 27 - 31 Ross Contra Dillard on the Immaterial As

pects of Thought - Matthew Su 32 - 34 Responsibility Case Study: Dissociative

Identity Disorder - Edwin Chen 35 - 38 Work and The Good Life - Nicholas Webb- Wagg 39 - 40 Epicurus and Modernity - Edwin Chen 41 - 43 Lex Injusta Non Est Lex - Matthew Su

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From the Editors Welcome, dear reader, to the long-awaited revival of Cogito!

We at the Platonic Society are a pretty easy-going bunch. Our half-drunken Thursday-night discursions, despite the noblest intentions, can often wander far from wisdom and down any one of a hundred (interesting!) rabbit-trails. How Socrates managed to keep on-point at his philosophy-parties is slightly beyond us. Until we figure it out, however, there are times when we want to do something with a bit more polish- we want to slick back our hair, don our academic bow-ties, flex our literary muscles and get down to some serious, sustained, creative philosophising.

Enter Cogito. Cogito aims to showcase the best of what Macquarie University philosophy has to offer.

In these pages you will find many of the different styles and topics of philosophy. You will find philosophy defended against itself, social concepts like economic exploitation and romantic love refined, and the philosophical bones of films exposed. You’ll see philosophers attempt to illuminate the mysteries of mind and body, and reflect on questions of goodness and justice.

Threading together all this diversity, we hope that you will find what we may call the philosophical spirit: the will to chase down the deep questions about first principles of things in a disciplined way, and thereby illuminate some measure of the truth. We hope that the contents of this issue inspire you to make your own submissions to Cogito- reflections, essays, art or literary work are welcome!

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In Defence of Philosophy Alexander McDonald

“In the twenty first century we will feel a pressing need for what should be called a freestanding philosophy of society” - Corina Saftescu-Jescu (2013, ‘A Central Problem of Contemporary Philosophy’, p. 153) The role of philosophy in society has changed dramatically over the previous century (Frodeman et al, p. 314; Habermas, pp. 276-78). For a long period of history, from the realm of the ancients all the way through the late enlightenment period, philosophy had something of a cherished place among intellectual disciplines. Now, however, philosophy is often lambasted as being impractical and therefore without much redeeming merit. In my opinion this is not to the benefit of human society, but rather another sign of the creeping social malaise that has slowly reduced our choice of political leaders down to two recurrent categories: the pall-bearers of the status-quo, and the flag-wavers of the neo-conservatives. Over the following paragraphs I will work to defend the role of philosophy in society through a discussion as to the benefits of a philosophical education, and in the process attempt to comment on whether the academic variety needs to integrate this social role into its own practices.

There is no road map out of this mess.

Philosophical education has stranded itself within the university system: this needs to change.

Philosophy should also be taught at both primary and secondary levels of schooling. There is mounting evidence as to the beneficial impact that forms of philosophical education have upon the development of children and high-school students (Gardelli et al, pp. 16-28). When these students are taught how to participate in philosophical dialogs it has the effect of improving a range of “intellectual skills”, such as the capacity for coherent and sustained argument, a greater ability to judge things for themselves rather than relying on common opinion or rote learning, and a more open-minded and tolerant assessment of the views and opinions of other people (Gardelli et al, pp. 20, 23, 25).

In addition, it seems to improve the capacity for

students, particularly children, to work through difficult and personal problems, not only helping to foster their “self-esteem” and emotional maturity, but in the process giving rise to what are often considered to be foundational “democratic values”, such as the “sense of justice” and fairness required for the assessment and integration of a plurality of reasonable existential preferences (Gardelli, pp.

20, 22-24; Habermas, p. 279). In this sense philosophy has an important social role to play in the development of not only “good citizens”, but also capable and well-rounded individuals (Gardellli, p. 18-20, Boyum, p. 557-58). And so, if we are to remedy the stagnation of the political and public realms of our shared existence, then I would argue that every one of us has a responsibility to develop and refine the skills provided by a philosophical mode of education, and there is no better place for us to start than with those who will one day inherit the sum total of our recent history. Which is to say, if we want to improve our society then we should add the subject of philosophy to the curriculum of primary and secondary school students, and in order to do this the academic discipline will not only have to lend its support to the endeavour, but also work to render its academic practices much more accessible to people unfamiliar with them, such as high-school students, children, as well as those who would act as their philosophy teachers.

In the previous paragraph I offered an instrumental account as to the benefits of teaching philosophy to primary and secondary school students, focusing for the most part upon the individual consequences of such a method of teaching.

However, and as Steiner Boyum notes in his paper ‘The Concept of Philosophical Education’, such an externalistic approach might run the risk of failing to distinguish what it is that a philosophical mode of education can bring about in contrast to other forms of rational discourse and instruction (p.

544). During this paper he presents an account of what might be considered distinguishing features by looking at the lives and works of three significant historical figures within the field of philos-

2 ophy: Plato, Descartes, and Kant (pp. 545, 550, 553). In short, what he identifies is this: a philosophical education is not so much about the “acquisition of knowledge”, but rather about fostering a “change in attitude” that allows for the development of a “sense of knowledge” (p. 548). In this sense a philosophical education is characterized as being a “journey” towards a state of intellectual, emotional, and moral “maturity”, where the individual participant is changed as a whole, not merely through the provision of “technical competence” and specialist knowledge, but through the development of the entire character of a person (Boyum, pp. 555-57; Kreber, pp. 131-32). On the balance of that summary there seems to be a resemblance between this traditionalistic depiction of a philosophical education and the benefits discussed in the previous paragraph. When students are taught how to participate in philosophical dialogues there are additional developments to other aspects of their individual character (Gardelli et al, pp 22, 23, 25).

This again seems to emphasize the social role that philosophy can play through its capacity to help us mature as individuals, and if the current state of the world is any reflection, philosophical maturity is a quality that seems to be in short supply among our modern societies. However, this should also serve as a warning for the academic discipline, for as long as it remains stranded within the university system it not only neglects the traditional concept of a philosophical education, which works to exacerbate its professionalized character, but it also eschews those benefits that can arise from taking a more traditionalistic approach.

Moreover, the previous discussion intersects with the work of Carolin Kreber, who argues that educational institutions have a responsibility to not only provide the “specialist” skills and knowledge required in our professional lives, but that they also need to develop of an “ethics of character” among their graduates (pp. 124-25, 131-32, 134). She makes the case that university educated “professionals” have a role to play in acting as intermediaries between “the individual and society”, and that one of the means of fostering a sense of “social responsibility” that lends itself towards forms of public engagement is through an education that includes philosophy (Frodeman et al, pp. 321-322, 326; Kreber, pp. 124, 132, 134).

And this seems to echo the work of Jurgen Habermas, in the sense that academic philosophers, in the guise of “public intellectuals”, can act as

mediators and guides of the academic landscape, helping to translate between the “idioms” of not only particular academic communities, but also between the language of the academy and that of the average individual (Habermas, pp. 278, 28788, 290). As I stated in the introduction the role of philosophy in society has changed, and as I argued in previous paragraphs, the academic discipline seems to have detached itself from the traditional concept of a philosophical education. And while this might have been to the benefit of the academic strand of philosophy, through the legitimization of its specialist expertise, it can also be viewed as being detrimental in the sense that it stymies the distribution of contemporary philosophical thought into society at large; in other words, philosophy has locked itself within the ivory tower of its own professionalization, and as a result the activity is now conducted between specialists and experts far too often, and between academics and the rest of society far too infrequently (Frodeman et al, pp.

312-14, 319, 323; Habermas, p. 283). And this is yet another argument in favour of the variegation and expansion of philosophical education away from the comfortable clutches of the university campus and across the entire scope of our educational systems. If our aim is to improve society by fostering the development of genuinely public intellectuals, and not just public figures who happen to be intellectuals, then a philosophical education ought to be integrated into the common experience far earlier than it currently is.

In conclusion, philosophy has an important role to play in society, however the academic strand seems to have lost sight of both its sense of social responsibility, and also to the traditional conception of a philosophical education being typified as a journey towards the maturity of our individual character. Over the previous paragraphs I have shown that a philosophical education can help to foster a sense of justice, a sense of knowledge, as well as a sense of social responsibility, and also argued that these capacities are necessary for us to remediate the failures of the contemporary era. If we want our world to improve in such a way that it is to the genuine benefit of every person on the planet, then I am convinced that an education in philosophy needs to once again take a primary role among our educational institutions, and as such, needs to made accessible to all people, at all ages, and from all walks of life.

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3 Reference List: Boyum, S 2010, ‘The Concept of Philosophical Education’, Pub. Educational Theory, Vol. 60, Iss. 5, pp. 543-559 Frodeman, 1 R, Briggle A and Britt Holbrook J

2012, ‘Philosophy in the Age of Neoliber alism’, Pub. Social Epistemology Vol. 263, Iss. 4, pp. 311-330.

Gardelli, V Alerby, E & Persson, A 2014, ‘Why philosophical ethics in school: implications for education in technology and in general’, Pub. Ethics and Education, Vol. 9, Iss. 1, pp. 16-28.

Habermas, J 2003, ‘The Relation between Theory and Practice’, Chp. 7: ‘Truth and Justifica tion’, pp. 277-319 Kreber, C 2016, ‘The ‘Civic-minded’ Profession al? An exploration through Hannah Ar endt’s ‘Vita Activa’, Educational Philoso phy and Theory, Vol. 48, No. 2, pp. 123- 137.

Saftescu-Jescu, C 2013, ‘A central problem of contemporary philosophy: Institutional facts. John Searle’s point of view’, Pub. Procedia - Social and Behavioral Sciences, Vol. 71, pp. 148-153

Marx and Rawls: Just Distribution, Exploitation, & Alienation Alexander McDonald Marx and Rawls were both concerned with economic justice: that is, the just distribution of resources and rewards. This paper deals with the two key concepts of economic exploitation and alienation. It explores how a Rawlsian approach, which aims to secure the greatest benefit for the least advantaged in society, can inform a Marxist critique of exploitative arrangements which make unjust capital out of workers. The Marxist treatment of alienation will be illuminated, and shown to converge with Rawls.

In the following discussion I intend to compare and contrast John Rawls’ account of just distribution with the concepts of exploitation and alienation from analytical Marxism. In the course of this analysis I will begin with a basic description of the Rawlsian concept and mechanism of just distribution. Then, I will introduce the notion of exploitation as understood in analytical Marxism, and contrast this with the just distribution of Rawls, with particular focus on the difference principle.

And finally, I will introduce the phenomenon of alienation, and compare it with the Rawlsian priority of basic liberties, with particular focus on the role of self-respect.

John Rawls, in his work ‘A Theory of Justice’, argues that a “conception of social justice” ought to be regarded as a means of assessing “the distributive aspects of the basic structure of society” (1971, p. 9). Such assessment is important as these distributive aspects, or social institutions, are the mechanisms by which the primary resources (goods) of society, such as rights, income, and opportunities, are secured and distributed to various demographics and individuals (Kymlicka, 2001, pp. 65-66; Rawls, pp. 7-9, 60-4). In short, these institutions dictate everyone’s fair share of social “benefits” and “burdens”, and thus influence the prospects of all participants (Kangas, 2000, p. 510; Kymlicka, pp. 59-60; Rawls, p. 8). It is Rawls’ aim to arrive at what would be considered, to each relevant demographic, an outcome that conforms to some overall pattern of just distribution, and hence agreeable to all parties (Rawls, p. 5-6). To achieve this balance Rawls recasts the “original position” of social contract theory through the “expository device” known as the “veil of ignorance” (Hunt, , p. 53; Kangas, pp. 511-2; Kymlicka, pp. 57-64; Rawls, pp. 11-14). Without digressing into a prolonged discussion, which is outside the scope of this comparative analysis, Rawls offers the “veil”

as a cognitive tool to achieve “reflective equilibrium” in our deliberations on the basic structure of a just society, and the organization of the social institutions within it (Kymlicka, pp. ; Rawls, pp.

11-14, 18). This method helps us to arrive at, in an impartial and rational fashion, an agreement on the just distribution of social resources, while limiting the negative influence of morally arbitrary factors, such as natural and social endowments like talent, disability, class, and other forms of privilege (Kangas. p. 512, Kymlicka, pp. ; Rawls, pp. 60-64).

With the aid of his “expository device”, Rawls’ explains and refines two principles, and their “lexical priority”, in order to help us arrive at a basic structure of distribution that is considered to be both just and fair (Kymlicka, pp. 55-56, 64; Rawls, pp. 61-2). The first is the principle of liberty, in short, that the individual has the right to the most extensive set of basic liberties, so long as they are compatible with an equivalent set of liberties for others (Kymlicka, pp. 56-7; Rawls, pp.

60-61). This first principle has the higher priority of the pair, which is to say, a basic liberty cannot be modified except in exchange for an equivalent modification of another liberty (Kymlicka pp. 63; Rawls, pp. 60-3). The second principle is two-fold, the first part establishes the necessity of equal opportunity, and the second part, more commonly referred to as the “difference principle”, allows for the generation of inequalities, such as different levels of income, if they benefit the least advantaged demographic (Kymlicka,pp. 55-57; Rawls, pp. 14-5, 60-2). These principles, in order of priority, allow for the generation of inequalities on two conditions: firstly, that all social institutions must allow for an equal opportunity of participation, and secondly, that material inequalities, while used initially as a means of incentive, are in the end utilized to benefit the least advantaged through some means of redistribution (Kymlicka,

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5 pp. 59-60, 197; Rawls, pp. 61-2). These principles are, in Rawls’ view, the means by which a just, and hence agreeable, distribution of resources is to be achieved while allowing for some inequalities in the social share of benefits and burdens. As an example, unequal income is justified through both the difference principle, in which some redistribution improves the lot of the least advantaged, and through the commitment to equality of opportunity, which infers that all participants have the capacity to achieve participation in occupations that provide higher than average income. In this manner the just distribution of Rawls allows for fair allotment of social primary goods while respecting the presence of talents and disabilities, so long as some of those surplus benefits accrued through talent work to ameliorate the deficits imparted by disability (Kangas, p. 513, Kymlicka, pp. 58-60). In this sense natural inequalities can be made to benefit the lot of everyone through a mechanism of fair and just distribution, as both the talented and disabled are entitled to some form of fair compensation, either in the reduction of a burden, or the legitimization of a benefit.

Exploitation, as understood in analytical Marxism, is a two-fold phenomenon in which an imbalance of social power is wielded, through the mechanism of employment, to the unjust benefit of the “capitalist” (Kymlicka, p. 178-9). In short, the worker is considered to be exploited by their employer, the capitalist, if the “surplus value” of their labour is extracted in an unfair manner to the benefit of some party other than the worker (Hunt, p. 51, 58; Kymlicka, pp. 177-9). This is thought to be unjust as the worker is seen to be entitled to a fair portion of the surplus value of their labour, and lacks the bargaining power in order to strike such an arrangement with the capitalist, who relies on the extraction of surplus to generate their profits (Kymlicka, pp. 180-2). However, the exploitation that arises from the transfer of surplus value might be legitimized through a combination of Rawls’ difference principle, with the broader “needs” principle of analytical Marxism; the needs principle is, in short, the notion that social benefits and burdens ought to be distributed “from each according to their ability, to each according to their needs” (Hunt, pp. 49-50; Kymlicka, pp. 172, 182, 185, 187-8). In light of earlier discussion, I think it can be argued, in very broad terms, that the transfer of surplus is not necessarily unjust, or unfair, if it goes to satisfy the maximin conditions

of the difference principle, and thereby also satisfy the portion of the “needs principle” that works to compensate for morally arbitrary disadvantage, such as disability (Hunt, p. 52; Kangas, p. 524; Kymlicka, pp. 166, 177-8, 181-5). In some sense we arrive at the same conclusion offered earlier, namely, that inequalities can be made to benefit the lot of everyone through a mechanism of fair and just distribution, but from this perspective it is the fair distribution of surplus value. While this argument avoids the issue of how much of the remaining surplus the capitalist and worker are fairly entitled too, this is in essence beyond the scope of this paper. Furthermore, though we might legitimize aspects of the surplus transfer through a convergence of Rawls and Marx, there are still other issues related to exploitation that we have not addressed, such as the social power-imbalance and the inequality of access that arises from it, and the exclusion of some demographics from concerns of labour exploitation (Kymlicka, pp. 181-5). However, I will attempt to address some of these issues in the following paragraph, as I explore the phenomenon of alienation.

In analytical Marxism there are two primary concerns over the basic structure of capitalism. We explored the first during the previous paragraph, in the discussion about exploitation.

The second objection relates to the phenomenon of alienation, which arises from the wage-labour relationship, the “compartmentalization” of productive roles into simplified arrangements, and the on-flowing affects these have on the individual (Hunt, pp. 50, 53-4, 59; Kymlicka, pp. 190-1; Llorente, 2008, pp. 239, 241-2). There are different accounts of how to interpret Marxist theories on alienation, although there seems to be agreement on two central features. The first relates to the power-imbalance that reserves of capitalistic wealth can create in the political and social spheres of society (Hunt, pp. 50-51; Kymlicka, pp. 176-8).

And the second form relates to the alienation of the individual from “meaningful work” through unequal access to the means of production, which fosters “human impoverishment”, in which our “essential human powers”, such as psychological and cognitive well-being, are negatively impacted (Hunt, pp. 50-1; Kymlicka, pp. 190-1; Llorente, pp. 234, 241-2). In light of the limitations of this paper, I will avoid discussing the inequalities that arise from unfair political and social influence, as these obviously violate Rawls’ liberty principle,

6 as the basic rights of political and social equaliKymlicka, W 2001, ‘Contemporary Political Phi ty ought not be influenced by economic factors; losophy’, Pub. , Chp 3 & 5, pp.53-75, 166- instead, I will focus on the phenomenon of “human 208. impoverishment” and its impact on “self-esteem” Llorente, R 2006, ‘Analytical Marxism and the (Hunt, pp. 53-4; Kymlicka, pp. 55, 205; Llorente, Division of Labor’, Pub. Science & Soci pp. 247-8; Rawls, pp. 62-3). In short, some forms ety, Vol. 70, No.2, pp. 232-51. of analytical Marxism hold that unequal access to Rawls, J 1971, ‘A Theory of Justice’, Pub. Harvard the means of production, which can take a number University Press, Chp 1 & 2, pp. 3-34, 60- of forms, ranging from unemployment to employ75. ment constraints such as “occupational self-direction” and task complexity, can harm the individual’s “self-esteem” and “impede” the psychological “preconditions” necessary for self-respect and self-improvement (Llorente, pp. 242-3, 244-8). If such a criticism is true, and there seems to be some evidence in support of it, then it would invoke Rawls’ concern over the equal protection and just distribution of primary social goods, specifically the “bases of self-respect” (Llorente, pp. 2448; Rawls, p. 62). If lack of “meaningful work”, that results from unequal access to the means of production, does indeed impact the individual’s capacity for self-respect, and thereby their self-development, then it would work to counter the “perfectionist” criticisms of the notion of a right to “meaningful work”, and instead bolster support for some form of “welfarist” argument (Kymlicka, pp.

190-1, 193-4; Llorente, pp. 248-9). Here again we can see some form of convergence between Marxist and Rawlsian theories, where analytical Marxism raises an issue that can be addressed through the framework of Rawls’ principles of justice.

In conclusion, over the course of this comparative analysis I have, in very broad terms to be sure, worked to show that Marxist and Rawlsian theories of distribution need not be seen as being in conflict with one another. While I have avoided and glossed over many of the nuances that an in depth discussion of the topic would deserve, I think the case can be made that these two philosophical traditions can be understood in such a way as to compliment and support one another in a coherent fashion.

References: Hunt, I 2013, ‘Marx and Rawls n the Justice of Capitalism’, Pub. Journal of Value & In quiry, pp. 49-65.

Kangas, O 2000, ‘Distributive Justice and Social Policy’, Pub. Social Policy & Administra tion, Vol. 34, No. 5, pp. 510-28.

Feminism & Liberal Theory: Rawls, Gender, & Family Alexander McDonald Feminist theories and critiques are enormously diverse (Kymlicka, 2001, p 377; Held, 2002, pp. 2).

As such, this paper will focus on the critiques of a particular strand of liberal theory, namely, Rawlsian ‘justice as fairness’ (‘A Theory of Justice’, 1971, pp. 1-607). This paper will not be seeking to prove a particular thesis, but rather, it will examine the topic and offer conclusions where they seem warranted. To begin, this paper will raise a few feminist concerns with liberal theories. Then, it will discuss the gendered structure of the family, with a focus on the unequal division of domestic labour. After which, the paper will discuss the economic vulnerability of women, and the potential effect this has on children. And finally, it will discuss the conflict between the liberal principles of opportunity and neutrality, and how this relates to the apparent incompatibility of the liberal ethic of justice and feminist ethic of care.

There are concerns within feminist theory as to the ability of liberalism to successfully address the gender inequalities that persist in society (Brake, 2007, p. 293; Held, p. 2, 8; Kymlicka, pp.

378, 385, 389. 393; Okin, 1989, pp. 89). For some, liberal theories seem to exhibit reluctance towards engagement of feminist perspectives (Abbey, pp.

12, 15-16, Held, p. 2-3; Kymlicka, p. 377). As Susan Okin notes, the topics of gender and family can, all too often, seem “barely visible” (pp. 93-4).

Even Rawls remains ambiguous on the issue of justice within the family, despite having included it as an institution of the “basic structure” (Abbey, pp. 6-7, 11, 16; Kittay, p. 221, 234; Kymlicka, p.

401-402; Okin, pp. 89, 93, 100-101). And as many theorists have pointed out, this exclusion of the family from the application of his own two principles of justice, and the assumption of its “just” structure, seems to be at odds with its place among the primary institutions of society (Abbey, pp. 8; Kittay, p. 234; Kymlicka, pp. 386-387, 402; Okin, p. 94, 97, 100, 108; Rawls, p. 104, 490). There is a worry that this is an echo of the traditional distinction between the “public” and “domestic” realms, which relied on the assertion that the “natural”

place for women was in the household (Abbey, pp. 6, 9, 16; Brake, pp. 295; Held, p. 1-2, 4-5, 8; Kymlicka, p. 378, 386-388, 390, 394; Okin, p. 9293). This distinction, as many feminists note, has been used to exclude the perspectives of women, by dismissing what were thought of as feminine concerns, whose bearing on public life was argued to be of questionable value (Brake, pp. 308-309; Held, p. 3-5, 8, 12; Kittay, 1997, p. 220; Kymlicka, p. 387; Okin, p. 94-95). But as Ruth Abbey notes in her discussion of Rawls’ major works, this echo of the public/domestic division was weakened in his later writings (pp. 7, 9, 14-15, 18-19). This seems to be most apparent when Rawls applies the liberty principle directly to the family as an association, and in his explicit invocation of “inalienable” rights for women and children inside the family (Abbey, pp. 12, 14-16, 18-19; Rawls, p.

60).

The gendered structure of the traditional family is a major concern of feminism. The burdens of domestic labour are still overwhelmingly borne by women, and this has a significant impact on their capacity to engage in the public and political spheres of society (Abbey, pp. 9, ; Brake, pp. 295, 308-309; Held, p. 3-4; Kymlicka, pp. 378, 381-382, 386; Okin, p. 95, 101-102). From the point of view of Rawlsian liberalism, there seems to a clear case that women’s liberties are being infringed, as the domestic burden that falls on them impacts both their autonomy as individuals, and their opportunities in the public realm of society (Abbey, pp. 18-19; Brake, pp. 295, 305-309; Kymlicka, p. 378, 382, 387). However, Rawls is again somewhat ambiguous on the unequal division of domestic labour (Abbey, pp. 18-19; Okin, p. 103) He seems to allow for this inequality so long as it satisfies the difference principle, but he also acknowledges the role of economic disparities, like the gender pay-gap, that work to impede women’s free choice to pursue a career over a family (Abbey, pp. 10, 18-19; Brake, p. 309; Kymlicka, p.

58, 379; Rawls, p. 62, 65). And as these economic disparities are still present in society, this raises

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8 questions as to how a liberal state might go about intervening in these affairs (Brake, pp. 306-308, Held, p. 4; Kymlicka, p. 379, 393, 395). This is another area of tension between liberal theories and their feminist counterparts, where a clash between the principles of opportunity and neutrality seems to prevent a clear resolution, but I will return this topic later in the essay. Having said that, Rawls does eventually adopt many of Okin’s suggestions towards alleviating the burden of domestic responsibilities, such as flexibility in workplace hours, parental leave, reproductive rights, and subsidized childcare, among many others (Abbey, pp. 18; Brake, p. 306; Held, p. 1). And so, it seems much clearer that there are numerous means of intervention available to a liberal society, and that questions as to the legitimacy of this intervention should pertain as to its scope and thresholds, and not to whether it is has genuine warrant.

The gendered structure of the family, and exclusion of the domestic sphere from the concerns of justice, has had an enormous impact of the economic vulnerability of women in society (Brake, pp. 305-309; Held, p. 3; Kittay, p. 220; Kymlicka, pp. 378-81 Okin, pp. 95-97). As I mentioned earlier, the gender pay-gap is a factor in the on-going economic dependence of women, more than likely playing a role in the internal family distribution of economic responsibilities (Abbey, pp. 18-19; Brake, pp. 307; Kymlicka, p. 382-383; Okin, p. 97). And as Elizabeth Brake mentions, even the traditional arrangement of working hours seems to have some historic basis in the gender structure of the family (Brake, p. 307; Kymlicka, p. 380-381). This ongoing division of economic and domestic responsibilities, granted a foundation in the gendered structure of the family, not only impacts the economic independence of adult women in society, but also the future economic and moral potential of children. As the family is the “first school of moral development”, children exposed to the gendered division of the economic and domestic within the family, they will begin to adopt these views, implicitly, into their understanding of the world (Kymlicka, p. 402; Rawls, pp. 104, 467; Okin, pp. 98-100, 104-105, 108) And as women still shoulder the majority of the child-rearing duties, the presence of this ongoing inequality works to reinforce the societal notion of the domestic being a feminine realm (Abbey, p. 9; Held, p. 8; Kittay, p. 221; Kymlicka, p. 382-383, 390, 393; Okin, p. 98-100, 104-105). In addition to

this, as Olli Kangas pointed out in his comparative assessment of distributive justice, social inequalities that arise from material differences, such as wealth, “are reflected in higher infant mortality rates” (2000, p. 515). As women fair significantly worse, in an economic sense, after divorce, and considering their over-representation in insecure, part-time work, it could be argued that these factors of economic inequality are a direct influence on the lives of children (Held, p. 7; Kangas, p. 515; Kittay, pp. ; Kymlicka, pp. 380-383, 387; Okin, pp. 104-105). Furthermore, as Rawls places such significance emphasis on the well-being of the next generation, exemplified by his “savings principle”, there seems to be a strong liberal justification for the restructuring of the family in line with feminist concerns (Kittay, p. 228, 234; Okin, pp. 108; Rawls, pp. 128-131, 137, 140, 289; Okin, p. 92, 100).

A major impediment to resolution between feminist and liberal perspectives seems to be the conflict between the liberal principles of neutrality and opportunity (Brake, pp. 295-6; Kymlicka, pp.

382-388; Okin, pp. 99-100). On one hand, liberal theory is committed to ensuring the free and equal opportunity of all peoples in society, such as the freedom for choice of occupation, and the opportunity to realize one’s rational life-plans (Kittay, p. 219, 238; Kymlicka, pp. 57, 385, 388; Okin, p.

103). On the other hand, liberal theory is committed to political neutrality, in which it seeks to avoid indicating a preference for any one conception of “the good” over another, and attempts to avoid the promotion of particular lifestyles ahead of others (Brake, pp. 296; Kymlicka, p. 382-382, 387-388).

And while this might not be obvious at first, I believe this relates to the disjunction between the liberal ethic of justice, and the feminist ethic of care; another area of tension between these two political philosophies (Held, p. 2, 5, 8; Kymlicka. pp. 386-390, 399). The principle of neutrality can be viewed as a universalization of the principle of impartiality, in which our own preferences are set aside in the adjudication of justice (Kymlicka, p. 63; Okin, p. 105). And the principle of opportunity can be viewed as a form of particularity, or concern for the individual, that typifies the ethics of care (Held, p. 2; Kymlicka, p. 390, 399). Traditionally, perspectives from the ethics of care, like placing particularity over impartiality, have been associated with feminine perspectives, and have been excluded from deliberations of justice under the antiquated division of public and domestic

9 spheres (Held, p. 2, 5-6; Kymlicka. pp. 386-390, 399). However, modern liberal theory, including that of Rawls, seems to have incorporated elements of moral emotion and sensitivity (Abbey, p. 7; Brake, p. 303; Held, p. 3; Kittay, p. 225; Okin. pp.

97-99). This can be seen when we view the opportunity principle as advocating a form of particularity, and in Rawls use of a “sense of justice” in his discussion on the necessary characteristics of participants in his original position (Brake, pp. 303; Kittay, p. 228, 236; Kymlicka, p. 385, 401-402; Okin, pp. 97-99). In light of the previous discussion, there seems to something of an echo of the conflict between the two opposing ethical systems of care and justice, buried inside the principles of liberal theory. And while there may not seem to be a clear resolution, in the sense that these two principles are going to have to be balanced against one another in some way, the work of Brake may help to provide a means towards improvement (pp.

293-309). Brake offers two suggestions that she believes will help make Rawlsian theories more responsive to feminist concerns. One involves an expansion of the concept of neutrality, so that it recognizes the hidden masculine preferences that are layered into the current structure of society (Brake, pp. 295-6; Held, p. 6; Kymlicka, p. 377380). And the other is an additional “epistemic” principle that can be used to mediate, and if necessary, exclude different conceptions of the good from deliberations on the just structure of social institutions (Brake, pp. 296, 301-303, 305). These two elements are intended to be adopted as modifications to the Rawlsian original position, and are meant to exclude unreasonable conceptions of the good, such as those based in sexism or religious notions of family life, from consideration, while also better exposing the masculine preferences built into gendered social institutions (Brake, pp.

296, 300-301, 305-306; Kymlicka, pp. 60, 380381; Okin, p. 92-93; Rawls, p. 75). While I believe these two suggestion have merit, I also think it may be difficult, in not impossible, to implement them at the political level, because of how many religious conceptions of the good might be excluded. In this sense, Brake’s modifications might run the risk of remaining confined to the conceptual level, used solely by those who have placed themselves within the Rawlsian original position.

In conclusion, this paper has sought to discuss feminist concerns about liberal theory, without seeking to prove any particular thesis. Over the

previous pages, this essay traversed issues such as the gendered structure of the family, the division of domestic labour, and the economic vulnerability of women. The liberal tradition of political philosophy seems to have a lot of potential to address the gender inequalities that linger in society today; but it also might be the case those philosophies will need to be made sufficiently sensitive to the plight and perspectives of women before this happens.

References: Abbey, R 2007, ‘Back towards a Comprehensive Liberalism?’, Pub. Sage Publications, Vol. 35, Num. 1, pp. 5-28.

Brake, E 2004, ‘Rawls and Feminism: What should Feminists make of Liberal Neutrali ty?’, Pub. Sage Publications, pp. 293-311.

Held, V 2002, ‘Feminism and Political Theory’, Chp. 7 ‘The Blackwell Guide to Social and Political Philosophy’ (2002), Pub. Blackwell Publishing, pp. 1-16.

Kangas, O 2000, ‘Distributive Justice & Social Policy’, Pub. Social Policy and Adminis tration, Vol. 34, Num. 5 pp. 510-525.

Kittay, E F 1997, ‘Human Dependency and

Rawlsian Equality’, Pub. Westview Press, pp. 219-239.

Kymlicka, W 2001, ‘Contemporary Political Phi losophy’, Pub. Oxford University Press, Chp. 3, Chp. 9, pp 53-75, 377-424.

Okin, S M 1989, ‘Justice as Fairness: For

Whom?’, Chp. 5 ‘Justice, Gender, and the Family’, Pub. Basic Books Inc, pp. 89- 109.

Rawls, J 1971, ‘A Theory of Justice’, Pub. Harvard University Press, pp. 1-607.

10

Romance: What’s Love got to do with it?

Taylor-Jai McAlister For decades, our society has been infatuated with the concept of romantic love… so much so that romantic love is widely considered to be a universal element of humanity.

Romanticism emerged in Western Europe in the minds of philosophers like Plato who argued for the inevitability of love through the idea of ‘soulmates’1 . His student, Aristotle, expanded on this idea and argued that love is a ‘complete friendship’2 that involves an admiration of a person that is long-lasting. These philosophers weren’t too far off, as their idea of romantic love evolved into the contemporary idea of romantic love that we accept today. A love that is defined by a perfect balance of passion, intimacy and the promise of commitment.

Romantic love is commonly seen in movies, art, literature and even fairy tales as something that is all-consuming, life-changing and inevitable.

But what if romantic love isn’t a universal aspect of humanity? Perhaps the foundations of romantic love are the very reasons it doesn’t work out for most of us. It seems more often than not that the freedom, security and companionship that romantic love provides are also its undoing. The devastating effects of love have been well-founded and documented both in philosophy and pop culture: break-ups. The promise of such an intense, fulfilling love comes crumbling down once we realise that the aspects of relationships we are so fond of are the reason they end.

Security: One of the most established foundations of romantic love is the security and commitment it brings. Romantic love involves an assumption of sexual and romantic exclusivity, due to the foundational belief that humans are in search of a ‘soul mate’ and once we find them, we will be happy. Infidelity is seen as breaking the boundaries of romantic love, as the idea of fully committing oneself to ones’ partner is valued so

highly. With commitment being such an important aspect of romantic love, it leaves us to wonder why so many people are unfaithful. 20-60% of married people have reported infidelity during marriage3, and western cultures show shockingly high divorce rates4. It seems that the boundaries of sexual and romantic exclusivity aren’t too strictly followed, so then why have them? If humans are meant to be in long-term partnerships, why are there so many rules and boundaries around romantic love and marriage? Perhaps the security that we value so much in love is just as fickle as the security we have when meeting someone at a bar: either way, they can leave us.

Philosophers like Albert Camus and Simone De Beauviour argued that we have too high expectations for the people we love5 and perhaps love shouldn’t be put under the pressure of a lifelong commitment6. Both argue that humans can experience enriching, passionate love, but that it doesn’t necessarily need to come with a promise of forever. The ability to admit that there may be an end to a relationship doesn’t seem romantic, and in the quest to find a soul mate seems sort of pointless, but Camus and De Beauviour emphasise that the only way to have a fulfilling relationship is to accept that it may not be forever. So perhaps the issue isn’t the end of a relationship, but the idea of the end of a relationship being a failed relationship.

Perhaps the true failure is staying in a relationship longer than we should. In fact, Neil Strauss7 argued that a relationships’ success should be measured by its depth rather than its length.

Freedom: This idea of staying in a relationship past it’s used-by date is one that has been around for a while, with the Ashley Madison scandal as a prime example. Why were 37 million people using a website for infidelity- choosing to be unfaithful rather than leave a relationship? Perhaps

1. Plato, The Symposium. Translated by Christopher Gill. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1999 2. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics. Translated by Roger Crisp. Cambridge University Press, 2000, p147 3. Buss, D., M. & Shackelford, T. K. (1997). Susceptibility to infidelity in the first year of marriage. Journal of Research in Personality, 31, p193-221 4. Oppenheimer, Y.K. (1997). “Comment on ‘The Rise of Divorce and Separation in the United States, 1880-1990.’” Demography, 34, p467-472 5. Camus, Albert, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. Translated by Justin O’Brien. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 2000 6. Beauvoir, Simone de, The Mandarins. London: Harper Perennial, 2005

11 Sartre8 was right in that love limits our freedom.

Sartre argued that the unrealistic boundaries we place on each other in romantic relationships may be an attempt at ignoring the terrifying responsibility of actually deciding to end a relationship. If we enter into a relationship with the promise of unending love and it ends, we can blame the other person. He argued that the freedom of being able to choose to be with someone or leave someone freaks us out and makes us control each other. And this within itself is selfish: sacrificing our freedom to get rid of this anxiety may be good for us, but isn’t it a horrible thing to do to someone else? The high value that we place on marriage and commitment makes people who conform to it seem courageous and inspiring, but what’s so courageous about being limited and limiting your lovers’ freedom in order to shake some responsibility?

So, it seems as though the romantic conceptualisation of love that we have all grown to love (haha) may be deeply flawed. But rest assured, the philosophers who bought up its forthcomings also provided us with a new conceptualisation of love: practical love. De Beauviour and Camus paved the way for philosophers to argue for a new kind of love that encourages lovers to explore their own projects and connections with other people while accepting that their lover has the same freedom. Pop Philosophers like Alain de botton9 also highlight this need to move away from romantic love , showing that people can constantly revise their definition of love and accept our lovers’ freedom to leave us. The acceptance that the relationship might end releases the pressure that comes with expectations and boundaries and allows for a secure, honest love that is constantly enlightened and redefined.

It seems as though romantic love’s boundaries of commitment and exclusivity fails the very needs it aims to fulfil and perhaps humans need to adopt a concept of love that better aligns with our need to balance freedom with security. Perhaps the new conceptualisation of love that is currently being redefined by philosophers today will allow us to accept the reality that everyone has the same freedom as us and our lovers could leave us at any time: not very romantic, is it?

7 Strauss, Neil, The Truth: An Uncomfortable Book About Relationships. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2015 8 Sartre, Being and Nothingness, p224 9 Botton, Alain de, Essays in Love. London: Picador, 2006

‘Interstate of Nature’ Hobbes on The Road Nicholas Webb-Wagg Imagine a world without rules or the structures in place that enforce them. There are no obligations, no promises you must fulfil, and nothing to inhibit you from acting as you please towards other people and their property. Does such a world sound desirable? If so, perhaps you had better think again. Humanity without society is what Thomas Hobbes describes as a “state of nature”, with each individual pursues their own interests, perpetually placed in desperate competition with other human beings, and where morality is discarded in the race for survival. The Road attempts to create a sober, unromanticised depiction of such a world in all its mercilessly bleak intensity. The film employs its hauntingly desolate setting and primal human interactions to frame a number of grave moral dilemmas. As the cinematic experience transports the filmgoer, they are forced to confront one particular fundamental question: “If you had to, would you sacrifice your morality – your humanity – in favour of survival?” This essay will examine The Road through the lens of the state of nature, paying particular attention to the ways in which the cinematic medium is used to evoke emotional exhaustion and distress in order to generate a raw authentic-feeling glimpse of humanity at its lowest ebb.

Unlike many films set in a dystopian post-apocalyptic future, The Road does not attempt to glorify or romanticise the setting1. Society has completely collapsed after some unspecified, degenerate into scattered opportunist scavengers2. The narrative follows a Man and his Boy (Vigo Mortensen and Kodi Smit-McPhee) on their seemingly endless trek across a blasted wasteland continent that what was once the U.S.A. In the absence of other social structures, they have had no need for names. There is something awe-inspiring and humbling about the vast emptiness that

hangs over the landscapes they traverse. Most of the film is eerily silent, evoking a sense of isolation, timelessness, and anxiety. The sun is never more than a grey smudge in an ash-choked sky.

The bleak monochrome vacuum is contrasted with the, colours, light and health seen in the Man’s sporadic flashbacks of a beautiful Woman, his wife (Charlize Theron), in a vibrant and colourful world before the catastrophe.

Though the narrative of The Road is interesting, it is not what makes the film significant.

As Daniel Frampton says, it is not some puzzle to be understood; I have an aesthetic, non-practical motivation to see it, to “float through a living artwork”, which is not diminished by viewing it again and knowing the story already3. Frampton and Tarja Laine believe films can be seen to “think” and “feel” (retrospectively) a certain way about the things they dipict. We are guided into a form of engagement with the film that is more than just a response to its imagery. Camera angles, ambience, background and narrative context all invite us to “meet the film halfway” – to entangle our thoughts and emotions with the presentation of the film and see things through its eyes as an emergent “filmind”4.

Despite the overpowering weight of the dead world setting, the film focuses primarily upon the stressed and often violent interactions between starving human beings. Conflict seems inevitable, and the film encourages us to respond to the barest hint of another human presence with a sense of suspicion and dread. And with good reason, according to Hobbes. In the event that society and its institutions break down, he reasoned that there are four factors that contribute to the eventuation of such a dog-eat-dog world: All humans have roughly equal basic needs; The resources avail-

1. By this I mean films that make the setting seem exotic, thrilling, or entertaining. I have in mind such films and series as Mad Max (1979, 1981, 1985), The Terminator (1984, 1991, 2003, 2009), Waterworld (1995), Judge Dredd (1995, 2012), The Matrix (1999, 2003A, 2003B), and The Book of Eli (2010). Each of these films portrays the setting as brutal and unforgiving, but also colourful, action-packed and exciting. 2 The two most likely causes of the disaster seem to be nuclear catastrophe and ensuing nuclear winter, or objects from space striking the earth. McCarthy (author of the 2006 novel) purposefully omitted these details to take the focus away from the catastrophe itself and concentrate entirely upon the human beings surviving in the present 2. The two most likely causes of the disaster seem to be nuclear catastrophe and ensuing nuclear winter, or objects from space striking the earth. McCarthy (author of the 2006 novel) purposefully omitted these details to take the focus away from the catastrophe itself and concentrate entirely upon the human beings surviving in the present 3. Daniel Frampton – Filmosophy (London, Wallflower Press, 2006), p. 109 4. Frampton – Filmosophy (2006), p. 111-12; and Tarja Laine – The Diving Bell and the Butterfly as an Emotional Event – in ‘Midwest studies in Philosophy’ vol 34 (2010), p. 302

12

13 able to meet those needs are limited; Humans are intelligent and adaptable, therefore always dangerous and roughly equal in power; and finally, there are limits to human altruism: we cannot expect a person to person to place somesone else’s survival above their own5. Individuals would be in a constant state of bitter competition for scant resources.

The parallel between the philosophical and cinematic dystopias is particularly apparent: “[In the state of nature] every man is enemy of every man… …men live without other security, than what their own strength, and their own invention shall furnish them withal.

In such condition, there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain and consequently no culture of the earth… …no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short” Thomas Hobbes – The Leviathan6 “The clocks stopped at one-seventeen...

I think it’s October, but I can’t be sure. I haven’t kept a calendar for years.

Each day is more grey than the one before.

It is cold and growing colder as the world slowly dies. No animals have survived, and all the crops are long gone...

The roads are peopled by refugees towing carts, and gangs carrying weapons, looking for fuel and food... There has been cannibalism. Cannibalism is the great fear.

Mostly I worry about food, always food.

Food and the cold and our shoes.”

‘The Man’– The Road

Hobbes’ theory assumes people are basically self-interested, but it is important to distinguish self-interest from selfishness. To be self-interested simply means to be motivated to do what is good for me; whereas to be selfish entails that I pursue my own good at the expense good7. Taking proper

care of yourself is not necessarily incompatible with other people’s interests. Part of what makes the state of nature so monstrous is that even the most basic self-interested act of survival becomes unavoidably by reducing the resources available to other survivors. Hobbes claims that we can observe this actually happening in the world when governments break down8, and it is certainly observable in The Road.

Even the Man’s bright memories of the women slowly sour as our story progresses. The vivid colours and light steadily fade into an ever darker night, and the last few flashbacks are amongst the darkest scenes in the film (which is saying something). The flashbacks reveal the progression of the Women’s slow despair. The waxing darkness mirrors her waning hope: most vibrant, she is happily basking in sunlight; next, the sun shines weakly through a window, and uncertainty is cast upon her face. A kind of nihilism is setting in: “some kind of sun seems to have set; some old deep trust turned into doubt: to them, our world must appear more autumnal, more mistrustful, stranger, ‘older’.” Here, Nietzsche ponders how many of our structures, built on traditional morality, must collapse into nihilism with the death of God9. With this final sunset, the Woman is only seen at night10. The open fire dwindles to a candle, and her demeanour takes an ugly turn. Her despair becomes agitated and aggressive. Suicide, she insists, is their only saviour, and she resents the Man for every day he forces them to fight on. Their life has no meaning, just suffering and fear, as they wait for a horrifying end at the hands of monsters that were once called human. She is never more calm than the moment she finally gives up, and lets the empty blackness both figuratively and visibly swallow her.

The theme of light representing hope and humanity and darkness as evil and despair is a classic device employed very elegantly in The Road. The most poignant use of the theme is the concept the Man and Boy. Throughout the journey, the Man teaches the Boy not just how to survive, but how to preserve our most vital sparks: our morality and humanity: that which separate the “good guys” from the “bad guys”. It is thematically opposed by the idea of cannibalism: the film’s

5. James Rachels – The Idea of a Social Contract – in ‘Elements of Moral Philosophy (McGraw-Hill, 1999), p. 144-5 6. Thomas Hobbes – The Leviathan – in ‘Ethical Theory: Classic and Contemporary Readings’ (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 1995), p. 54 7. James Rachels – Egoism and Moral Skepticism – in ‘Elements of Moral Philosophy’ (McGraw-Hill, 1999), p.464 8 Rachels – The Idea of a Social Contract (1999), p. 145 8. Rachels – The Idea of a Social Contract (1999), p. 145 9. Friedrich Nietzsche – The Gay Science (Cambridge University Press, 2001), p. 343 10. With the exception of one final happy memory near the conclusion of the film

14 primary horror, a mark of inhumanity and disgrace.

The Fire is a sign of the hope that mankind will eventually recover and rediscover its lost innocence and grace. As such, it is explicitly forbidden to eat people. In a vital sense, cannibalism can be seen as a gesture of final abandonment of this hope for the future.

As a symbol of altruism at its most tested, the Fire represents a direct refutation of the theory of egoism (self-interestedness) at the heart of the state of nature11. Theorists like Hobbes believed we can only afford to be altruistic once we have established civilisation12. The Fire demands that we have this backwards: it is only once we allow ourselves to be altruistic that civilisation can arise.

The debate over whether humans are fundamentally egoistic or altruistic is an ancient one. Plato’s dialogues, Glaucon argues in favour of egoism, and uses the story of the Ring of Gyges to illustrate his point13. Gyges was an ordinary farmer who found a magic ring that rendered him invisible – that is to say, immune to the repercussions of his actions.

Glaucon argues that people only act morally out of fear of the penalties of misconduct, and anyone with Gyges power would do as he did: abuse it to its utmost to gain every advantage in life. Even a supposedly moral man would act in the same way, and if he did not, he would be a fool. In the isolation and chaos of The Road, anyone can act as Gyges does: behaving as unjustly as they wish without punishment. The Fire borne by the protagonists is a promise not to use that power.

The true carrier of the Fire, the last embers of humanity, resides in the Boy. He frequently exhibits a degree of care for others incongruous with the setting. He does not wish to steal (even from the dead), and gives thanks for what he takes. He is charitable to strangers on the road. He even begs for mercy for a thief that almost left them both for dead. The film contains a positive message, as optimistic as the setting is bleak: even if all our carefully laid social structures come crashing down, we will only descend into the state of nature if we give up the will to be good people.

When the Man and Boy reach the ocean after fighting to get there for so long, they find it to be grey and endless:

Boy: What’s on the other side?

Man: Nothing.

Boy: There has to be something.

Man: Maybe there’s a father and his little boy, and they’re sitting on a beach too.

In our own world, we reach out for heaven but find only endless black space, and wonder if there’s actually anything out there on the other side. Like the Man, we might suspect not. But we like to imagine, and that hope helps fight off the chill of the void14. Nietzsche argues that pessimism can be a symptom of strength and a will to live, while optimism can be a sign of resignation15. The Man outlook is similar: “I told the Boy when you dream about bad things happening, it means you’re still fighting and you’re still alive. It’s when you start to dream about good things that you should start to worry.”

Nietzsche’s answer to the problem of nihilism was the idea of “eternal recurrence”, in the form of a hypothetical question: Do you affirm your life strongly enough that you would have it again and again, and never change a thing16?It is this sort of will that can overcome the loss of all other structures of meaning. Life on The Road is a terrible, yet it is not worthless. And so we have this affirmation at the closing of the film: “If I were God, I would have made the world just so and no different. And so I have you... I have you.”

If we meet half way along The Road, and see the journey through its own filmind, we find ourselves sharing in its emotional and moral exhaustion, which in turn permits us to answer its moral dilemmas with a degree of honesty we might not achieve in our comfortably civilised lives17.

The film permits us to engage with a sober vision of humanity stretched to its limits, teetering on the edge of an abyss. Wretched as our race can be, it would like us to reject the Hobbesian assertion that humanity is purely self-interested at heart and, minus social institutions, we would descend into a rat-race no one can win. Giving up the Fire is a choice we make; so long as we carry it, there is hope for the future of humanity.

11. Rachels – Egoism and Moral Skepticism (1999), p.460 12. Rachels – The Idea of a Social Contract (1999), p. 146 13. Plato. – The Ring of Gyges – in ‘Vive and Virtue in Everyday Life: Introductory Readings in Ethics’ (Harcourt School, 1993), p. 448 14. Nietzsche – The Gay Science (2001), p. 124 15. Friedrich Nietzsche – ‘The Birth of Tragedy & the Case of Wagner’ (New York, Vintage Books, 1967), p. 17 16. Nietzsche – The Gay Science (2001), p. xv-xvi 17. In the end, I had to make the pun

15 References: The Road – Directed by John Hillcoat; screenplay

by Joe Penhall (‘2929 Productions’, 2009) [based on the 2006 novel by Cormac Mc Carthy] Frampton, Daniel. – Filmosophy (London, Wall flower Press, 2006) Hobbes, Thomas. – The Leviathan – in’ Ethical Theory: Classical and Contemporary Read ings’ (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 1995) Laine, Tarja. – The Diving Bell and the Butterfly an Emotional Event – in ‘Midwest Studies in Philosophy’ vol 34 (2010) Nietzsche, Friedrich – ‘The Birth of Tragedy &

the Case of Wagner’, trans. Walter

Kaufman (New York, Vintage Books, 1967) Nietzsche, Friedrich. – The Gay Science (Cam bridge University Press, 2001) Plato. – The Ring of Gyges – in ‘Vice and Virtue in Everyday Life: Introductory Readings in Ethics’ (Harcourt School, 1993)

‘Emotional Contagion’ Nicholas Webb-Wagg

In philosophical discourse, “Empathy” is used to denote a broad class of mental processes, ranging from the ability to imaginatively simulate and adopt another person’s perspective, to the socially beneficial instinct for compassionate behaviour.1 In her article Catching Characters’ Emotions, Amy Coplan analyses the “primitive” form of empathy known as “emotional contagion”. In this essay I will examine Coplan’s account of emotional contagion, and especially her claims about the role it plays in our experiences of narrative films.

I will explore the processes by which contagion can occur, which distinguish it from other forms of empathic response, and why films should trigger these processes so readily. Finally, I will address two potential complications with Coplan’s association between emotional contagion and narrative narrative film: whether only direct sensory (i.e. audiovisual) stimuli can trigger an emotionally contagious response; and whether the nature of emotional contagion is in fact essentially communicative, rather than merely experiential.

In one of the most memorable and heartbreaking scenes in Walt Disney’s The Lion King (1994), the infant Simba discovers the body of his wise and noble father, Mufasa.2 The capacity for this scene to infect us with Simba’s emotions was so profound that it was parodied in other media, including Pinky and the Brain. In the episode “Brain Song” (1996)3, Brain attempts to condition away Pink’s capacity for empathy by exposing him to a similar film4 but some power within the footage undermines even Brain’s stoic composure.

The effect that Brain has stumbled upon (and subsequently attempts to weaponise) is what we call emotional contagion.

Coplan defines emotional contagion as “the tendency to automatically mimic and synchronise expressions, vocalisations, postures, and movements with those of another person, and, consequently, to converge emotionally”5. The emotional state of the targe6 appears to be the observer, as though by infection. Coplan goes on to stress that the contagion process is almost always automatic and involuntary, and that the infected party will often be unaware of the origins of their emotional change.7 Adam Smith provides the example of flinching, “When we see a stroke aimed, and just ready to fall upon the leg or arm of another person, we naturally shrink and draw back on our leg or our own arm.”8

While Coplan is mainly concerned with emotive facial expressions, contagion can also be transmitted via emotional cues embedded in a target’s body-language, actions and voice. She employs two primary examples of contagion in action: the Omaha Beach sequence from Saving Private Ryan (1998),9 and the opening scene from Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003).10 In Saving Private Ryan, we see a long series of shots of the scared and anxious faces of the soldiers about to wade into a fearsome battle. Similarly, in Kill Bill, we witness a distressed woman trapped underground. In both cases there is little to no contextual information about the characters, the setting, or the narrative itself, and yet we are compelled to share in these characters’ feelings of anxiety and fear.

1. Hatfield, Le, & Rapson – “Emotional Contagion and Empathy” in The Social Neuroscience of Empathy, (Boston, MA: MIT Press, 2007), p.1 2. The Lion King” - Roger Allers & Rob Minkoff (directors), Walt Disney Pictures (1994) Simba’s tragic scene can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=84Irg8xn4bg (Accessed September 2014)Featured image: http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/810000/810077_1313793069379_full.jpg (Accessed September 2014) 3. “Brain’s Song” - Pinky and the Brain: Seaons 2, Episode 5; Liz Holzman (director), Amblin Television & Warner Bros. Animation (1996) The relevant scene is in the first 5 minutes of the episode, which can be viewed here: http://www.animecartoon.tv/pinky-and-the- brain-season-2-episode-8/ (Accessed September 2014)Featured image: http://ia.media- imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTcxMzMwOTA0MF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNDA4MzczMjE@._V1_SY317_CR104,0,214,317_AL_.jpg (Accessed September 2014) 4. In a scene reminicent of the condition sequences from Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) 5. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotional: Contagion Responces to Narrative Fiction Films” in Film Studies, Issue 8 (2006), p.27 6. I will use the word target to refer to the person being observed, who is the source of the contagion 7. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.27 8. Adam Smith, quoted in Bavelas, Black, & Lemery – “Motor Mimicry as Primitive Empathy” in Empathy and its Development, (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1987), p.317 9. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.26 10. Ibid. p.29.

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By using these examples, Coplan firstly illustrates that emotional contagion is basic enough that it does not utilise the sort of contextual knowledge we might use to inform our more sophisticated emotional states11. Simultaneously, she shows that emotional contagion can be transmitted through narrative film. Indeed, many studies of emotional contagion employ audiovisual recordings.12 This also indicates that the source of a contagious response need not be aware of the observer’s reaction, nor even physically present (in the case of film).13 Also, we can deduce that the target of emotional contagion need not actually be experiencing the emotional state they transmit, merely perceived to be in such a state (e.g. they can be acting). Coplan states that the source of emotional contagion need not even be human.14 One or both parties could be a non-human animal,15 or the target could be artificial (e.g. animated or computer generated, such as Simba in The Lion King).

To understand why film should be such an effective vector for emotional contagion, we will first need to briefly touch on the nature of emotion, as well as the processes by which the contagion response operates.

What constitutes an emotion? several components, including physiological expression; nervous system activity; conscious awareness; and behaviour. 16 Emotions can also be thought to possess three dimensions. Besides the intensity of an emotion, and its relative valance (positive or negative attitude), it is commonly held that emotions possess intentionality (an object or idea that the emotion is about or directed towards).17Intentionality raises an interesting issue for emotional contagion. If contagion precedes more sophisticated emotional processes, it seems probable that it might also precede evaluation of the intention content of the emotions observed, resulting in “caught” emotions with no directedness. That notion, that said, the notion of “free floating” emotions is not inconsistent with Coplan’s assessment

of contagion (after all, when we share anxiety of the soldiers in Saving Private Ryan, it is not as though we are frightened of the German guns).

However we categorise emotions, it is apparent that they are more closely associated with bodily states (e.g. muscle tension, heart rate, etc.) than are other mental states, such as thoughts and beliefs.18It is this fact that makes emotional contagion possible, as contagion itself is a highly physiological process.19

Hatfield, Le, and Rapson (2007) divide emotional contagion into three concise stages:

Stage 1 – Mimicry20 People tend to mimic expressive behaviour they observe. This includes adopting facial, vocal or postural changes to mirror those around them.21 This mimicry occurs far quicker than deliberate, conscious replication can manage.22

Stage 2 – Feedback

People are influenced by the physiological state of expressive behaviour they adopt, such that they experience the emotions associated with those states. Like mim icry, feedback can relate to facial, vocal or postural stimuli. Outward expressions of emotion tend to amplify those emotions: we tend to feel happy when we smile, and sad when we frown24.

23

Stage 3 – Contagion Finally, when mimicry is combined with feedback, we have contagion. That is to say, people will tend to experience the emotions expressed by others they observe, because A) They will tend to mimic the

11. Ibid. p. 26 12. E.g. Bavelas et al. – “Motor Mimicry as Primitive Empathy”, p.322 13. Compare with Bavelas et a .’ communicative view of emotional contagion, below.

14. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.27 15. E.g The experiments involving chimps mentioned in Bavelas et al. – “Motor Mimicry as Primitive Empathy”, p.32014. Hatfield et al. – “Emotional Contagion and Empathy”, p.2 16. Hatfield et al. – “Emotional Contagion and Empathy”, p.2 17. Mandik – “This is Philosophy of Mind”, (John Wiley & Sons, 2014), p.167 18. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.28. See also: Mandik – “This is Philosophy of Mind”, p.166 19. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.28 20. While some authors (e.g. Bavelas et al. 1987) refer to motor micicry as synonomyous with “emotional contagion”, I choose to identify it with only the first stage of the process (i.e. “micicry”).

21. Hatfield et al. – “Emotional Contagion and Empathy”, p.3-4 22. Ibid. p.5 23. Ibid. p.6 24. Ibid. p.6

18 physiological states expressed by those they observe, and B) They will tend to experience feedback emotions generated by emotionally expressive physiological states they adopt.25

Coplan refers to the successfully infected state as “synchrony”, distinguish it from more sophisticated forms of empathy. The observer need not understand how or from where their new emotional state originated, nor this state itself impart any insight into the cause or context of the target’s emotional state.26 At best, we can analyse our experiences of emotional contagion after the fact, and potentially glean some greater ’ understanding of the target’s situation, but this is distinct from the experience itself.27

Coplan touches on the idea that contagion involves fast, reflexive, sub-cortical processes.28 This may place it closer to phenomena like “pareidolia”; automatic facial recognition in objects and images (e.g. Rorschach inkblot tests). Studies suggest that the recognition of faces (including false-positive responses) occurs almost instantaneously upon perception, and it is therefore not a subsequent late-cognitive reinterpretation of sense-data.29 An observer who registers a face-like object will activate mental processes that can instantly identify the target – along with their emotional state. These processes occur well before the conscious mind can even receive the data.30 Even faces perceived in electrical sockets, or stick figures, will convey the apparent mood of the target.31

But how far can emotional contagion can be applied? If the range of valid triggers extends to any face-like or seemingly emotive stimulus, the concept may lose meaning. Coplan indicates that illustrations and audio recordings are valid triggers for contagion,32 but at what point does a disembodied laugh-track; the mournful cry of a violin; or the anthropomorphic stubbornness of a malfunctioning car, stretch the boundaries of this idea beyond usefulness?

Coplan readily admits that contagion is

not adequately studied, but some of her claims need a more rigid defence. She insists that contagion cannot be transmitted via imagination or simulation (such as literature),33 but that films (including animated films) are valid triggers. On what grounds then to we disqualify characters in dreams, memories, or other purely mental origins?

Coplan may respond that the emotions of a mental-character are already within the observer. But surely, if I can project emotions onto something like a power-point (or an actor?), and subsequently (validly) experience contagion, then a vivid dream of an emotional character should be even more infectious than a power point. This issue needs to be more thoroughly addressed.

One competing interpretation of emotional contagion is the communicative view. Under this theory, proposed by Bavelas, Black, and Lemery, contagion is not merely an internal state produced by the observation of the target; it is purposively expressive to the other person.34 It is supposed to nonverbally communicate to the target that the observer is “like them”, and knows how they feel: “[Emotional contagion] is a function of the interpersonal, communicative situation, not the by-product of private experience.”35

They support their interpretation with a number of experiments designed to detect whether emotional contagious responses are more or less noticeable when the observer believes they are visible to the target. They found that their test subjects expressed far more pronounced reactions when the target made eye-contact.36 The reactions of the eye-contact subjects were even faster than the control group, which indicates there was no second-stage social behaviour adopted after a baseline contagion reaction.37

However appealing the communicative interpretation of emotional contagion may be, it struggles to address our reactions to non-present targets, such as in films. Bavelas posits three brief solutions. First, they suggest that, during all their experiments using film and photographic triggers, the test subjects were still aware that they were

25. Ibid. p.10 26. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.27 27. Ibid. p.35 28. Ibid. p.27 29. Hadjikhani, Kveraga, Naik, & Ahlfors – “Early (N170) Activation of Face-Specific Cortex by Face-Like Objects” in Neuroreport (20:4; 2009) 30. Ibid.

31. Ibid.

32. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.35 33. Ibid.

34. Bavelas et al. – “Motor Mimicry as Primitive Empathy”, p.325. While the trio use the term “motor mimicry”, and focus primarily upon what we earlier called “mimicry”, their process functions like emotional contagion by another name.

35. Ibid. p.325 36. Ibid. p.326 37. Ibid. p.328

19 being observed, and so would still react communicatively. However, this does not explain why we respond emotively to film stimulus when we are alone. Bavelas can only suggest that, in the heat of the moment, the stimulus must seem “real”. Finally, it is possible that contagion responses are similar to language. Language is obviously communicative, but we still sometimes speak aloud when we are alone.38 However, they offer no explanation of how a relationship between spoken language and contagion might function.

One of the most interesting consequences of Coplan’s account of the emotional contagion as automatic and involuntary is that responses need not be compatible with our beliefs, judgements, or higher emotional processes. It is possible for an utterly vile and repulsive character to trigger sympathetic emotions. By way of example, she uses one of the final scenes from Alien Resurrection (1997), in which a monster we naturally find abominable nevertheless manages to express fear, pain, and betrayal, which we can’t help but share.

This generates an unsettling paradoxical concoction of emotions in response to this scene.39 This same disturbing sensation is exploited in Maniac (2012), which follows the unsavoury exploits of a serial killer. By using first-person perspective, the film exposes the audience to his behaviour, vocal cues, breathing; even his heartbeat, all of which thoroughly convey his emotional state. Consequently, the audience can’t help but be infected by his distorted excitement; even while our more sophisticated emotional processes implore us to be repelled.40

I agree with Coplan’s assessment that emotional contagion is more significant to our experiences of films than the degree of academic study on the topic would suggest. While it may be argued that there are more important, sophisticated, or useful mental and emotional processes at work while we watch a film, we cannot deny that contagion will often change our subjective experience of a film. Regardless of the possible communicative purpose of this process, the fact remains that emotional contagion has an influential experiential quality that needs to be studied and accounted for.

Stricter qualifying criteria will also be necessary, to help explain why imagining an audiovisual trigger would not qualify as an instance of emotional contagion, when other contrived emotive imagery 38. Ibid. p.331 39. Coplan – “Catching Characters’ Emotions”, p.33 40. “Maniac” – Franck Khalfoun (director), La Petite Reine & Studio 37 (2012)

can be valid.

References: Bavelas, Janet B.; Black, Alex; Lemery, Charles

R. – “Motor Mimicry as Primitive Em

pathy” in Nancy Eisenberg and Janet

Strayer (eds), Empathy and its Develop

ment, Cambridge, Cambridge University

Press (1987) Coplan, Amy. – “Catchi ’ : Fiction Film” in Film

Studies, Issue 8 (2006) Hadjikhani, N; Kveraga, K; Naik, P; Ahlfors, SP.

– “Early (N170) Activation of Face-Spe

cific Cortex by Face-Like Objects” in

Neuroreport (20:4; 2009) http://www.ncbi.

nlm.nih. gov/pmc/articles/PMC2713437/

(Accessed September 2014) Hatfield, Elaine; Le, Yen-Chi; Rapson, Richard. –

“Emotional Contagion and Empathy” in

J. Decety & W. Ickes (eds.) The Social

Neuroscience of Empathy, Boston, MA:

MIT Press (2007) Mandik, Pete. – “This is Philosophy of Mind”,

John Wiley & Sons (2014)

20

Epiphenomenal Qualia: Guilty Until Proven Innocent Christopher Whyte 1.0 Introduction

The first of the two arguments, The Knowledge Argument, asks readers to consider Mary.

There seems to be a chasm between explanations Mary is a scientist who has lived her entire life of consciousness, in terms of functional mechainside a monochromatic room studying the neunisms and how our experiences appear to us. It rophysiology of vision through a black and white should, therefore, be of no surprise that many of monitor. During her training, she has acquired all the objections to physical accounts of consciousof the physical information about vision there is ness are based on a priori considerations. In Jackto attain. Mary can give an exact physical account son’s 1982 paper Epiphenomenal Qualia he argues of what is happening in the nervous system when for an epistemological gap (a gap in knowledge) people use terms such as red and blue. Since Mary 1 between physical information and qualia (the already knows all the conceivable physical facts qualitative aspect of experience). From this, he about the neurophysiology of vision the question makes an abductive leap to a metaphysical gap (a is when Mary is allowed into the outside world gap in nature), positing epiphenomenalism2 as an and sees colour for the first time, will she learn explanation. This essay shall oppose this approach anything new? The thought experiment pumps to consciousness on two fronts. Firstly, I will argue the intuition that since Mary obviously does learn that explanatory power is of the utmost importance something new, namely how colour subjectively in scientific and philosophical theorising, and, appears to her, physicalism must be false. Mary secondly, I will ground The Knowledge Argument already knew all of the physical information about in the Multiple Drafts Theory of consciousness vision, and, yet, she still learnt something new. to demonstrate how a physical theory can explain There is a gap between physical explanation and away the intuitive appeal of epiphenomenalism qualia. The central claim of this argument is that whilst also accounting for all the necessary data it is possible to have all of the relevant physical points. This essay begins by examining Jackson’s information of a domain while still leaving somearguments in detail, ensued by an argument for the thing out. (Jackson, 1982). If epiphenomenalism importance of explanatory power, and, following is true, or more exactly, if the physical brain gives this, a distinction will be made between types of rise to non-physical qualia that lack causal efficacy memory and mental content. A brief account of the this would account for the intuitive gap between Multiple Drafts Theory of consciousness will then physical concepts and qualia. be provided, and, finally, using the Multiple Drafts The second of the two arguments defends Theory of consciousness I will place The Knowlepiphenomenalism from the objection that the edge Argument into a physical framework. view lacks explanatory power. Jackson (1982) argues that this objection is dependent on an overly 2.0 The Knowledge Argument and epiphenom- sanguine view of humans and our ability to obtain enalism. knowledge. Humans are evolved creatures; our capacity to comprehend the world would only have This section will outline two arguments made by been selected for to the extent that it conveyed Jackson (1982); the first of which argues that phys- some kind of adaptive benefit. Epiphenomenal icalism is incapable of accounting for qualia, and, qualia have no adaptive benefit, and, as such, even the second, defends epiphenomenalism. if there were an organism that was able to under1. The term qualia will be used interchangeably with, subjective character, phenomenal character, what it is like and subjective appearance.

2. Epiphenomenalism as is the notion that consciousness is like the steam that is emmitted by a train. Consciousness is the product of the brain but it lacks causal efficacy.

21 stand how their mind was caused it would have no additional selective advantage. Physicalism on this account also rests on the same overly optimistic view of human knowledge. At no point would humans have been selected to understand matters of such extraordinary complexity. It is for this reason, that epiphenomenal qualia seem to fall outside our realm of comprehension (Jackson, 1982).

2.1 Evolution and explanatory power Before we can examine The Knowledge argument it is necessary to address Jackson’s defence of epiphenomenalism from the objection that it has no explanatory power. I argue that in making this move, Jackson undermines his own account and is altogether too flippant about the objection. We have good reason be sceptical about postulating epiphenomenal qualia as an additional entity to explain the gap between physical information and subjective experience. It rests on the dubious assumption that we have reliable intuitions. The presence of an epistemic gap between physical explanations and how the world appears to us is not unique to the study of consciousness. Many thoroughly vindicated theories throughout science are at first glance unintuitive. It does not intuitively seem like solid objects are mostly empty space or that we have an optic blind spot. And, until the Copernican Revolution in the 16th century, it seemed intuitively obvious that the earth was standing still (Churchland, 2013). Is not at all problematic for a theory of consciousness to seem intuitively unsatisfying if it can account for all the necessary data points. Once we acknowledge that our intuitions are highly prone to error there is no need to posit an epiphenomenal entity to explain them.

As Pinker (1997) points out, we are highly fallible organisms that did not evolve to perform complex conceptual tasks:

importance. If a theory has no explanatory power, that is to say, if it does not provide independently ostensible predictions and explanations that are falsifiable, we have no way to verify between it and an erroneous theory. Epiphenomenalism provides no predictions, it is not falsifiable, and, it is only proposed in order to account for the intuition that there is a gap between physical explanations and how our experiences appear to us.

2.2 Content and memory.

For The Knowledge argument to be placed into a physical framework, we need to make a distinction between two types of long-term memory; semantic memory and episodic memory. The content of representations stored in semantic memory are of a non-personal nature. For example, I can remember that oxygen has two valence shells or that cone cells are mostly concentrated in the fovea. I will, however, have a great deal of trouble remembering where and when I learnt this information. In contrast, the content of representations stored in episodic memory are of events of a personal nature. For example, I remember getting a bus home last night, what the bus looked like and the basis of the conversations I had while on the bus. (Kolak, Hirstein, Mandik & Waskan, 2006). The case study conducted by De Renzi, Liotti and Nichelli (1989) gives impetus to this distinction by demonstrating that these two forms of memory can dissociate. I argue that in conflating these two types of content and memory The Knowledge Argument pumps the dubious intuition that a physical theory is incapable of accounting for Mary’s experience of colour.

I deny the first premise of the argument, specifically, that Mary knows all the conceivable physical facts about colour. To have knowledge of a mental state’s phenomenal character, that is, to know what a mental state is like, the central nervous system has to instantiate the functional role that is said “We are organisms, not angels, and our mental state. Knowing what it is like to see colour minds are organs, not pipelines to the truth. necessarily involves the visual system representing Our minds evolved by natural selection a section of the electromagnetic spectrum, workto solve problems that were life and death ing memory maintaining said representation, and, matters to our ancestors not to commune eventually, the encoding of the representation in with correctness or to answer any questions episodic memory. Semantic knowledge of the visuwe are capable of asking.” (p.561) al system and episodic knowledge of the phenomenal character of visual experiences are entirely This is why science and philsophy has to be condifferent mental states. The subjective character of ducted in such a careful and exact manner. And, mental states cannot be deduced a priori from third it is why explanatory power is of such profound person semantic knowledge.

22

With this distinction in hand, the datum of the Knowledge Argument can be restated. Mary has episodic memories of her life in the monochromatic room and semantic memories of exactly how the visual system functions. When exposed to colour for the first time Mary claims to have learnt something new. If a physical theory can account for this The Knowledge Argument does not pose a challenge to physicalism.

2.3 The Multiple Drafts Theory of consciousness.

Our brains are constantly and invariably flooded by sensory input, and, as a result of this, there are innumerable information processing mechanisms operating all the time that guide us through the world. The Multiple Drafts Theory of consciousness is an account of how it is that some of these processes become available for verbal report.

The Multiple Drafts Theory of consciousness maintains that there is no single place in the brain where everything unites for consciousness.

Brain states are necessarily spread out over space and time in the brain. There is also no single stream of consciousness. There are multiple specialised processors operating in parallel, constantly competing in a state of pandemonium for significance in the brain. Unconscious specialised processors can also be utilised by other specialised processors that have gained significance, performing functions they may or may not usually perform. There are thousands of these specialised mechanisms processing information all the time within a single brain, shaping its dispositions.

Some of these competing processors ‘win’, or in other words, some of these processors succeed in gaining significance in the brain thereby fixing the content of a reportable state when combined with language processors. This technique of self-representation allows for the creation of a memory on which we can reflect. And, beyond the content fixation that is encoded in memory, there is no matter of fact about the content of consciousness (Dennett, 1991).

2.4 Multiple Drafts of Mary.

Now that we have made a distinction between the content of semantic memory and the content of episodic memory, and, are equipped with a physical theory of consciousness, we are ready to place The

Knowledge Argument into a physical framework.

Until leaving the black and white room Mary had semantic memories of exactly how the visual system works and episodic memories of personal level events inside the black and white room. It is not until Mary has left the black and white room that she will have representations of colour encoded in memory (initially working memory, and, subsequent to this, episodic memory). When Mary leaves the room, photoreceptors in her eyes will transduce sections of the electromagnetic spectrum she has never before been exposed to into neural signals that travel via the optic nerve to the lateral geniculate nucleus of the thalamus and then to the primary visual cortex in the occipital lobe (this barely scratches the surface of the sub-personal mechanisms involved in vision, although further details are superfluous to the present argument) (Kolak et al., 2006). The visual perceptual discriminations will compete in parallel with other processing mechanisms in a state of pandemonium. If they ‘win’, that is to say if they gain significance in the brain the contents of a reportable state will be fixed. This competitive process is likely to be rapid as consciousness has a strong perceptual bias (Baars, 1988). Once significance has been achieved, the content fixation of colour will be encoded in her memory allowing verbal report and reflection. And, beyond this, there will be no matter of fact about the content of Mary’s consciousness. The intuition that there is a gap between the physical explanation of the content of Mary’s consciousness and her qualia is the result of a theoretical oversight. The language used to report the content of consciousness is being taken too allegorically. If there is no matter of fact about the content of consciousness beyond what is encoded in memory it follows there is no matter of fact about the subjective character of Mary’s experience of colour beyond what is encoded in memory.

3.0 Conclusion.

The Knowledge Argument in no way threatens physical theories of consciousness. We are evolved creatures that are highly susceptible to intuitive error, and, because of this, explanatory power is of the utmost importance. Theories need to provide falsifiable predictions. Epiphenomenalism provides none. By failing to make a distinction between the types of content stored in long-term memory, The

23 Knowledge Argument gives rise to an erroneous intuition. And, once placed into a proper physical framework, the data point of The Knowledge Argument – Mary’s learning something new – can be fully accounted for. Furthermore, the intuition that epiphenomenalism is posited to account for can be explained away as a theoretical oversight. Epiphenomenalism is surplus to explanatory requirement, and, as such, ought to be regarded as a violation of Occam’s razor.

References: Baars, B.J. (1988). A Cognitive Theory of Con

sciousness. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge

University Press Churchland, P.M. (2013). Matter and Conscious

ness. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Dennett, D. C. (1991). Consciousness Explained.

Boston, MA: Little, Brown & Co. De Rezi, E., Liotti, M., and Nichelli, P. (1987).

Semantic Amnesia with Preservation of

Autobiographical Memory. Cortex, 4, 234- 250.

Jackson, F. (1982). Epiphenomenal Qualia. The

Philosophical Quarterly, 32(137), 127-136.

Kolak, D., Hirstein, W., Mandik, P., & Waskan, J. (

2006). Cognitive Science: An

Introduction to Mind and Brain. New York,

NY: Routledge.

Pinker, S. (1997). How the Mind Works. New

York, NY: W.W. Norton.

24

Is the Mind a Computational System?

Alexander McDonald In this essay I will argue that the mind, understood as human intelligence, is not exclusively the result of a computational system. In doing this, I will make the case that while computation might be necessary and sufficient for some types of intelligent behaviour, such as those of autonomous formal systems, that it is not a sufficient condition for mentality in and of itself. In other words, I do not believe that a computational system is capable of reproducing all the phenomena of the mind, but rather, that computation requires additional joint conditions in order to produce more than intelligent, autonomous behaviour. In lieu of an essay roadmap, and as something of a preface, I would like to comment on a few of the things I will not be discussing. I intend to avoid the topics of representation, semantic content (meaning), and consciousness altogether. I am doing this in order to address the essay question in a more direct manner, and it is my belief that a discussion of these topics will lead to unnecessary complication without any substantial resolution.

In cognitive science there are two significant theories of what computational systems, like artificial intelligence (hereafter AI), might be capable of achieving. These are the theories of “Strong” and “Weak” AI (Searle, 1990, pp. 26-7, 29, 31; Crane, 2003, p. 109). In concise terms, Strong AI suggests that the “right” computational system, in and of itself, is enough to produce thought and mentality (Searle, pp. 26-7, 29; Crane, p. 109, 126). In comparison, Weak AI suggests that computational systems are useful for modeling, and therefore understanding, those aspects of the mind, or anything else, those systems can achieve a formal, and/or functional equivalence with (Searle, pp. 26-7, 29; Crane, p. 109). I have introduced this distinction because of its similarity to the essay question; in short, we are discussing the plausibility of the Strong AI thesis, and whether or not a computational system, in-itself, can produce, or be equivalent to, a mind. In the next paragraph I will offer an argument to support my claim that Strong AI is implausible, and why I think a computational system cannot produce mentality alone.

As I have said, I do not think that Strong AI is plausible. This is not because I doubt the intelligence, or potential, of computational systems, but rather, it is because of the terminological overreach of the central premise of Strong AI itself. This consideration is related to another problem, which is something in the manner of a conflation between functional and causal equivalence. In other words, I believe physiological aspects of the brain and body play a causal role in producing the phenomena of the mind, and that Strong AI ignores these features in favour of achieving a functional equivalence. These two issues, the ambitious nature of the Strong AI thesis, and the role of physiology in the causation of mind, seem to be of concern to not only John Searle, but other philosophers as well (Clark, 2001, pp. 8, 20, 36, 39, 87-9; Crane, pp. 109, 115, 117, 126-8; Haugeland, 2000, p. 15; Hutto & Myin, 2013, pp. 10-11; Searle, pp. 26, 29, 31). In short, the argument is this: while computational systems can manage to achieve formal and functional equivalence with aspects of the mind and brain, they do not achieve causal equivalence with the neurobiological features of the brain and body in-themselves (Clark, p. 36; Searle, pp. 26, 29, 31). This is not an argument against computational intelligence, merely a criticism of the ambitious overreach of the central premise of Strong AI, and it is the broadness of this premise that leads Searle to criticize Strong AI as being “profoundly antibiological” (p. 29). Strong AI would have significantly greater plausibility as a theory, if it suggested that a computational system in conjunction with a causally equivalent substrate, would be capable of achieving something like mentality (Clark, pp. 34-39, 87-9; Crane, p. 128; Hutto & Myin, pp. 4-5, 13-14). Unfortunately for Haugeland, I think Strong AI will have to allow some of that “messy physiology... to get in the way” if it wants to produce mentality (Haugeland, p. 15, Clark, p. 87-9). As such, I do not believe a computational system, in-itself, is equivalent to the mind.

Other factors also influence my belief the mind is not merely computational. One is the

25 notion that AI and human intelligence are distinct forms and expressions of the more fundamental phenomenon of general intelligence (Clark, p. 20; Crane, p. 115; Haugeland, p. 15; Hutto & Myin, pp. 13-14). In other words, I do not think AI and the human mind are sufficiently comparable to one another to be equivalent in their identity, even though both are capable of sophisticated cognitive functions. Tim Crane, in his book ‘The Mechanical Mind’, uses the metaphor of an aeroplane, a bird, and flight to discuss this very notion (p. 115).

In essence I hold the same basic intuition; I think they are different ways of achieving intelligent behaviour, and that AI might be better understood as being a “nonhuman” form of intelligence, rather than as a human-like duplication of intelligence (Clark, p. 20, Crane, p. 115). While both forms utilize similar features of computation to converge on behavioural outcomes, I do not think every aspect of human mentality is reducible to the operations of a computer program. That is to say, I doubt that a computational system is ever going to achieve the entire spectrum of human cognition, however, at the same time I also doubt that humans will ever possess the full range of intellectual capacities that will become available to AI. This is similar to another aspect of Crane’s discussion, namely, that the field of AI research should not be “constrained” by the manner in which human psychology actually works (p. 116) In broader terms, AI should focus on developing ever more sophisticated computational systems and theories, rather than trying to duplicate the human mind with implausible exactitude. Something of the opposite seems to apply here too, while AI should avoid unnecessary constraint imposed by a degree of incomparability with the mind, cognitive science should avoid the hindrance of having to explain all computational phenomena in terms analogous to human psychology. In short, these are distinct types of intelligence, and as such, they differ in the manner in which they employ their various cognitive strategies and attitudes.

Hutto & Myin, in ‘Radicalizing Enactivism’, argue that there is “more than one way to get around” in an intelligent fashion, suggesting that the computational aspects of the mind might only be the “tip of the cognitive iceberg’ (pp. 13, 46). While I am not prepare to go as far as that, the differences between the cognitive strategies of AI and humans are another reason why I believe the mind is not strictly computational. In short, there

are three significant ways in which I think AI and human beings differ in their use of intelligence.

The first is the contrast between the “brute-force” computational strategies of AI, that can rely on enormous volumes of calculations and rule-checks, and the subtle-depth of human intuition and experience, faculties that seem to accomplish similar outcomes without access to the sheer calculatory force available to a computational system (Clark, pp. 20, 31, 37; Crane, p. 115; Haugeland, pp. 8, 10; Hutto & Myin, p. 46). The second difference corresponds somewhat to the first, and is related to the narrow teleological focus of computational systems in comparison to the broad existential attitude of human beings (Clark, p. 11, 37, 71; Haugeland, p.8). Computational systems are goal-oriented and focused on the completion of errands dictated by their programs and programmers, humans on the other hand, while also goal-oriented to a large degree, are also drawn toward existential considerations and activities, such as contemplating the meaning of life, or experiencing an enthralling and inspiring artwork, and these attitudes do not seem to be reducible to a set formal instructions without also trivializing them as activities and concerns.

The third and final difference centres on the role and importance of systematicity in thought and intelligence (Clark, p. 15, 37, 86, Hutto & Myin, p. 41). I am not convinced that human thought is all that systematic, at least, not compared to a computational system. While our higher rational functions are “reason-respecting”, some human thought and behaviour seems to defy ready explanation; humans can be irrational, and behave on inexplicable whims and motivations (Clark, p. 15).

I also believe that human language is the culprit, or one of the culprits, behind the systematic nature of our rational experience, and that the accretion of culture has helped to provide us with an externalized set of computational tokens to further aid the increasing systematicity of our intellectual environment (Hutto & Myin, p. 41). These intellectual differences between AI and human intelligence, in addition to the issues covered in the previous paragraphs, form the basis for my belief that the mind is more than a computational system.

In conclusion, I think the notion behind Strong AI, that a computational system, in-itself, is enough to produce the mind, is little more than a spurious exaggeration. However, I do have hope that some form of “Medium” AI can be achieved through an integration of relevant physiological

26 features with the right computational system. I also think it be would be useful to foster the notion that AI should considered as a distinct form of nonhuman intelligence, rather than allowing it to be conflated with human-like intelligence.

References: Clark, A 2001, ‘Mindware’, Pub. Oxford Universit

y Press, Chp Introduction, 1-2, 4, pp. 1-41, 68-87.

Crane, T 2003, ‘The Mechanical Mind’, Chp 1,

4-5, pp. 2-30 , 109-208.

Haugeland, J 2000, ‘Semantic Engines: An intro

duction to mind design’, Pub. Oxford

Blackwell, pp. 1-16.

Hutto, D & Myin, E 2013, ‘Radicalizing Enactiv

ism’, Pub. MIT Press, Chp 1-3, pp. 1-48.

Searle, J 1990, ‘Is the Brain’s Mind a Computer

Program?’, Pub. Scientific American, pp.

26-31.

Ross Contra Dillard on the Immaterial Aspects of Thought Matthew Su Is there some aspect of thought which is not material of physical? James Ross argued in an important 1992 paper that there are such immaterial aspects to thought. Using some of the most famous sceptical puzzles in philosophy, Ross illustrated why abstract, logical thought has (or must have) a peculiar quality, determinateness, which picks out one meaning (or range of meaning) amongst innumerable others, which is both the basis of logical inference and impossible to realise in a physical system. He argues, in short, that physical systems are by nature too limited to do what we do every time we conceptualise or reason! This paper will set out and defend Ross’s arguments against the recent criticisms of Peter Dillard.

Introduction.

James Ross’s argument from determinacy to the immateriality of some aspects of thought, is an oft-neglected member of the family of arguments which draw immaterialist conclusions about the nature of the mind. Rather than seeking an immaterialist account of ‘qualia’ (i.e., the non-quantitative aspects of the world), or of intentionality (the capacity of thought to be “about” something else), Ross’s argument focuses on the ‘determinacy’ of thought- its capacity to think about and carry out particular formal functions. His argument that thought is determinate where no physical system can be has roots in classical Platonist and Aristotelian accounts of the intellect, but Ross motivates his argument by reference to modern sceptical puzzles1. This paper will set out the argument and affirm Ross’s conclusion. Two main objections by Peter Dillard to Ross’s argument will be considered: first, that Ross does not show formal thinking to be necessarily determinate, because alternatives are possible; second, that Ross has not shown thought, even if it is ‘indeterminate,’ to be genuinely sui generis (i.e., completely ‘other’ than material) and thus Ross does not demonstrate that thought is immaterial. I argue that each of these arguments fails.

Ross’s argument on the immaterial aspects of thought.

Ross’s argument aspects follows the following general structure: 1) 2)

Some thought is determinate Nothing which is wholly material

can be determinate c) Therefore, some thought is not wholly material (i.e., is immaterial).

Each premise bears examination.

The First Premise: Some thought is determinate.

Ross claims that some thought is “determinate.”

By “determinate,” Ross means to say that some thought-functions are performed in a manner that is unambiguous between incompossible functions2.

“Determinateness” is especially obvious when we consider ‘formal’ functions like logical and mathematical operations, which allow us to infer conclusions non-fortuitously from any given set of premises. Consider the following argument-form: 1) If A, then B 2) A c) Therefore B.

This argument-form (modus ponens) is valid, as long as we perform the logical operation that the ordinary use of the letters and numbers in English indicate. Letters and numbers, of course, are what Ross would call indeterminate with respect to the operations they purport to describe: there is nothing about the sequence of letters and words themselves which specifically denotes the valid function modus ponens, as distinguished from all other possible functions (e.g., from some program designed to simulate the outputs of modus ponens for a limited set of inputs).

This may not at first seem a novel concern.

Words are not intrinsically meaningful, and might

1. Edward Feser, ‘Kripke, Ross and the Immaterial Aspects of Thought’ in Neo-Scholastic Essays (St Augustine’s Press 2015) 218 2. James Ross, ‘Immaterial Aspects of Thought,’ (1992) 89(3) The Journal of Philosophy 136, 137

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28 therefore be thought by their very nature to be indeterminate in the functions they indicate. Unlikeletters and numbers on a page, however, it seems that at least our thought is determinate in its function when we carry out logical operations. When we carry out modus ponens, for example, it appears that we are not merely generating our conclusion mechanically, nor performing some near-enough function, but executing a logical function which in every instance is truth-preserving for all possible premises. In the very act of understanding the difference between addition and the infinite forms of quaddition, our thought seems to have an intrinsic determinacy which mere words do not have.

Indeed, not only is determinacy introspectively obvious, it is also indispensable to logical inference, since being truth-preserving for all possible premises is constitutive of logical validity.

Because such scope is the very means by which the modus ponens function entails its conclusion, if ever we reason validly using modus ponens (and the same goes for other valid modes of inference), we must be reasoning determinately. If we were using some other function for which the conclusion did not necessarily follow from the premises, then even if we happen to be correct on the case, it would not be in virtue of the function that the conclusion could be logically inferred. Logical inference, then, depends upon the determinacy of our logical processes. Even to deny that thought is determinate, we would have to presume the determinacy of thought to justify the denial. We therefore have very strong reasons for believing that our thought is determinate.

bizarre) whether there is any fact of the matter as to whether one has hitherto been performing “plus” functions, or mere “quus” functions. This ambiguity is more than just epistemic: if human beings had never calculated sums involving values greater than 50, it might seem that there is nothing in the actual operations one has performed which can distinguish between addition, involving the ‘plus’ operation, and ‘quaddition,’ involving the ‘quus,’ operation. One might set the relevant value at an arbitrarily high value, such that all human addition hitherto is ambiguous between ‘plus’ and ‘quus,’ (or some other ‘quus-like’ function). If it is ambiguous, then there would be no fact about us which distinguishes the function we perform as addition, as opposed to ‘quaddition.’

Now clearly it is extremely implausible for reasons discussed above that the function which we carry out when we add actually is indeterminate.

On reflection, however, that in virtue of which the functions are determinate cannot be physical, as the following makes clear.

That which makes a function determinate cannot simply be a given output-history, since there are always further incompossible functions with respect to which that output-history is ambiguous. Indeed, even a physical process with an output history extending infinitely into the past and future could not successfully distinguish between addition and some quaddition-like function, for quaddition-like functions which involve counterfactual considerations (e.g., a function which acts like addition unless Abraham Lincoln was not assassinated) can always be raised as alternatives with respect to which a given function cannot be The Second Premise: nothing material can be physically distinguished. The capacity for determideterminate. nate, formal thought is, at least in the case of logical and mathematical operations, an infinitely selective Determinacy, however, is a very strange feature one. In order for the operations of a physical mechof thought, when we consider it in light of certain anism to be fully determinate (and thus capable sceptical puzzles raised in modern analytic philos- of constituting our formal thought-operations), ophy.

Ross argues that it would have to be able not only

Consider, for instance, the function ’quus,’3 to perform every action it ever will, but also perwhich given inputs below an arbitrarily high value, form every action it might have performed, under acts like addition: X quus Y yields the sum of X and every condition which might have eventuated, even Y, for instance, just as X plus Y yields the sum of X incompossible (i.e., conditions which cannot both and Y, with the difference that “quus” yields 1 for X be possible) ones. Clearly, such a task is physically or Y values above 50. impossible.

If one had never calculated sums for

The reason for this impossibility is best statquantities greater than 50, one might reasonably ed as follows: whatever else they are, physical obwonder (even if this would be psychologically jects, however far extended in time and space, are 3. Saul Kripke, Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language (1998) 7-9

29 concrete particulars, situated in a particular time and place. This very particularity and concreteness, by contrast to the abstract mode in which formal functions are carried out, limits the physical structure’s ability to determinately perform formal functions. This concrete particularity is the mark of the physical, since it is what distinguishes actual instantiations of the patterns we conceive from the conceptions themselves. Whatever is to some degree free of this particularity, then, as whatever it is that carries out determinate functions would have to be, is to that degree not material.

applies universally to a potentially infinite number of never-realised cases under an infinite number of incompossible counterfactual conditions, which is an impossible feat to physically perform.

If our conceptual apparatus is physical, it would be impossible to define greenness with the determinateness necessary to understand the difference between greenness and the diverse ‘gruenesses’; the conceptual content of “green” would be indeterminate in itself, mutatis mutandis for all conceptual content whatever, to the detriment of formal inferences from such content. If there is no determinate fact of the matter as to what we assert, hope for, or The conclusion: Some thought is, in some reinquire about, then thought itself seems to become spects, immaterial. impossible.

For Ross, then, the price of denying the With his two premises established, Ross can derive immateriality of the intellect includes not only his conclusion: that formal thought is not material. logical validity in individual acts of reason, but It is important here to note that the mode of imma- any abstract thought. This would serve to make teriality here need not be a kind of sui generis fun- any materialist account of such features of thought damental phenomenon like Cartesian ‘mind.’ For self-refuting, unless they can meet the challenge of Ross, the immaterial component of thought just articulating logical validity and conceptual content is the ‘idealised,’ purely formal aspect of thought,4 in ways that do not presuppose determinacy. something which is realised to some degree

(though not perfectly) even within the indetermiObjection: There are reasonable alternative acnate phenomena which we grasp through formal counts of meaning and rational thinking which processes. Formality (and thus, the non-physical do not require determinacy. component of things) is thus not without precedent in nature, though it is ‘purified’ in the human Dillard’s response to Ross attempts to meet Ross’s intellect to an unprecedented degree. Conversely, challenge head on in two ways: determinate thought being something incompat In the first place, Dillard objects that there ible with the particularity of concrete physical is no incoherence in motivating deflationary views things prevents purely formal thinking from being of content, which are sceptical of the existence of successfully reduced to the physical. any such thing as a determinate content that can be attached to thought. Dillard thus objects that Ross The problem of determinacy generalised. makes out his first premise: that formal thinking is determinate, on the basis of the incoherence of The problem that Ross raises could be generalised the alternative. The argument he is trying to underto any grasp we have of formal concepts- that is, mine runs as follows: to any universal ideas applicable to diverse partic Even in order to propose sceptical puzzles ulars, which pick out one kind among the infinite of the ‘plus-quus’ sort, we require that we truly unothers there may be. Take the example of Goodderstand the difference between the genuine article man’s ‘grueness’5- a thing is ‘grue’ if it is green (addition) and the counterfeit (mere ‘quaddition’). before 2017, and blue thereafter. The conditions, Thus, any argument for the sceptical conclusion, or as with quaddition earlier, under which a ‘grue’ even the raising of the question, must presuppose thing differs from green, can be set with the same the falsehood of the sceptical conclusion, and ararbitrary counterfactual conditions which render guments for the sceptical conclusion are therefore it impossible to physically ground the distinction self-undermining. The argument is meant as a sort between the thought of greenness and that of of ‘tie-breaker’ between the response which affirms ‘grueness.’ Distinguishing between greenness and determinate thinking, and the sceptical response to ‘grueness,’ after all, is to pick out a property that the Kripkean sceptical puzzle; even if the two are 4. Ross, above n 2, 144 5. Nelson Goodman, ‘Fact, Fiction and Forecast’ (Harvard University Press 1983) 73

30 equally well-motivated, one view inconsistent with the puzzle motivating it, and so is self-undermining.

Dillard says that the notion of ‘understanding’ in such an argument is not necessarily of a determinate sort: An account of ‘understanding’ which appeals to ‘not giving bizarreness reactions,’ for instance, suffices to float the sceptical puzzle without incoherence: there need be no determinate fact as to ‘that-to-which-one-is-not-giving-bizarreness-reactions,’ in order to raise the question of whether there is such a fact of the matter.6

I think Dillard’s move here fails to dodge the force of the objection. If it is indeterminate what “giving bizarreness reactions” means, and the function performed when giving such an alternative is indeterminate between “defining” and any near-enough function, then it seems that the definition given in terms of bizarreness reactions cannot in fact act as a definition. Because of its indeterminate content, rational inferences on the basis of its identity cannot be justified, which is the essential function of a definition in logical argument.

Indeed, it seems that any move that seeks to fully replace formal definition will similarly undermine our ability to draw inferences on the basis of such definitions, because the formal derivability of the inference from the definition relies on the fact that the inference follows in every case to which the definition may apply. Without the determinateness necessary to perform formal acts of definition, any inferences we do draw will be conjoined not by formal rules but by fortuitous accident, which in turn undermines all formal thinking whatever, including that necessary to set forth a definition of thought as constituting ‘bizarreness reactions.’

Secondly, Dillard claims that it is perfectly possible to give a definition of validity which can apply to sentences uttered without regard to the determinacy of thought, and that therefore facts about the determinacy of human thought are irrelevant to the validity of arguments7. Dillard’s definition of validity turns on the ability of an utterance to be rewritten as a sentence in a formal language, L, which is capable of modelling diverse content.

For Dillard, ‘validity’ is simply any sequence of

utterances which, when rewritten in L, is true in every model. Even if it is indeterminate what the individual does when they reason, then, the objective reasonableness of what they are saying is extrinsic to their thought, and therefore facts about the determinacy of their thought are irrelevant as to whether what they say is reasonable.

This second attempt to meet the challenge fails as well, because the problem which Ross points out is just that if it is indeterminate what is being said when someone utters a sentence, then it is impossible to treat any sentence uttered as a sentence in L. If it is indeterminate what they are saying, then there is no fact of the matter as to whether they are uttering a valid sentence in any formal language, and consequently, no fact of the matter as to the validity of what is said. Dillard’s move here does not allow him to rescue the validity of any actual speech-act, and so Ross’s self-refutation problem remains unaddressed.

Objection: Thought is not sui generis.

A critic of Ross’s argument might further comment that the indeterminacy of underlying physical facts is simply a symptom of irreducibility rather than immateriality. Dillard makes the point that even if the physical facts as such were underdetermined as to their conceptual content or rational operation, this might simply imply that there is a ‘level’ of properties of matter which is irreducible to the physical ones.8

The key problem with Dillard’s objection here is that the kind of determinacy that Ross requires is incompatible with the mode of existence of a wholly material thing. Ross’s argument for the immateriality of some aspects of thought, is not merely that the underlying physical phenomena of formal thinking are indeterminate with respect to the higher-level irreducible properties, in the way that mitosis is irreducible to facts about chemistry. Rather, Ross is more interested in the mode in which those properties are instantiated.

If higher-level irreducible properties are instantiated as concrete particulars, that very particularity will prevent determinacy. The reasons for this are shown above: the concrete particular cannot

6. Peter Dillard, ‘Ross Revisited: a Reply to Feser,’ (2014) 20(10) American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly.

7. Dillard’s definition is as follows: “Let L be a formal language including sentences constructed from statement letters (p, q, etc.), truth-functional connectives, n-adic predicate letters, and first-order quantifiers. All the sentences of natural science and mathematics can be rewritten as sentences of L. Let a model of a sentence in L be an assignment of a set U as the universe of discourse to any quantifiers the sentence contains, subsets of U as extensions to any predicate letters the sentence contains, members of U to any free variables the sentence contains, and truth-values to any statement letters the sentence contains. An L-sentence is logically valid just in case it is true under every model, and an L-sentence is a logical consequence of other L-sentences just in case any model under which the latter sentences are true is also a model under which the former sentence is true.”

8. Dillard, above n 6

31 ground the distinction between pure functions tion that can dispense with determinacy are still involving different counterfactual conditionals. doomed to self-refutation.

While there certainly is no shortage of controversy as to what it means to call things physical, it seems that whatever else physical things are, they must be concrete particulars rather than abstract universals. Thus for Ross it is not merely the case that the determinate is irreducible to the indeterminate, but that it entirely lacks one of the preconditions of materiality.

This reply raises an interesting worry, however: if physical reality is indeterminate with respect to pure forms, it would seem, then, one might conclude that no particular process ever occurs in nature: if what happens in cells cannot be distinguished as ‘mitosis’ from ‘schmitosis,’ in the way that addition cannot be physically distinguished from quaddition, does that mean that no such physical process occurs at all?

For Ross, this is no great puzzle. He would quite agree that concrete physical instances of mitosis cannot be distinguished from ‘schmitosis,’ where each has some formal definition. What it is to be a concrete physical instance of mitosis, however, is not to be some formal act of definition, but to be a concrete physical structure with certain formalisable, idealisable aspects, which are nonetheless not idealised as they exist concretely. Thus Ross would say that all that this objection amounts to is the observation that physical instances of mitosis will not be exhausted by our abstract idealisations, but will, as acts of mitosis, involve further facts about structure and composition. The denial that concrete physical structures are determinate between mitosis and ‘schmitosis,’ then, would not be denying that the structures exist, nor that there are real differences and commonalities among them, and so this objection does not give rise to any real problem.

Conclusion.

Ross’s argument for the immaterial aspects of thought seizes upon a new way of articulating an ancient problem: how to ground metaphysically a mode of reasoning which deals with conceptual content as abstract universal rather than concrete particular. As Ross makes clear, the problem of realising determinate formal functions in a world of concrete particulars turns out to be real and acute with no plausible materialist solution. Attempts to avoid the problem by posing models of cogni-

Responsibility Case Study: A response to the Interim Report with respect to self-control, future agency and Dissociative identity disorder Edwin Chen 1.0 Introduction.

This report considers the role of memory and self-control in future agency of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) individuals in relations to the recent Interim Report by the Reference Group on Welfare Support. The theoretical literature relevant to personal identity in connection to agency is reviewed, arguing that consistent moral continuity is of greater importance than memory in personal identity will be summarised. Discussion will focus on implications for a disabled welfare recipient’s well-being include reduced work capacities affected by inconsistent personal identity. Also, disruptions to moral identity may be such that they have no realistic permanent work capacity, whilst retaining cognitive level work abilities in a technical sense. Analysis will highlight how the ability to maintain and control a consistent personal identity is essential to employment prospects and permanent work capacity, and DID individuals lack this.

I will argue that a realistic welfare-to-work policy must take into account both theory and observational evidence for it to be effective and fair.

2.0 Discussion.

A quick survey of the background literature on personal identity is relevant to this discussion paper and concerns the way personal identity is connected to moral continuity, self-regulation, future agency and moral responsibility. The literature on personal identity started from Locke’s (1690) basic insight of it requiring the necessity of overlapping memories for the basis of personal identity, to a transformation to requirements of the right kind of psychological continuity (Parfit, 1984), to how continuous moral identity (Schechtman, 1994) is essential to conceptions of moral responsibility, self-control, autonomy and future agency. It is a common view that moral identity is central and an important part of personal identity (Strohminger & Nichols, 2014).

Modern refinements to the debate that Locke started, advance from overlapping remembrance of different stages of life and a storehouse view of memory, to psychological and moral continuity. This then transitions to a reconstructive narrative summary view of memory, and how

mental time travel is clearly important in conceptualisation of rational deliberation, self-control and autonomy, which in turn is essential to our intuitions about moral identity. How our personal identity is shaped by social relationships (and physical appearances and disadvantages), also impact on our moral identity, continuity, narrative and autonomy. This lack of autonomy impacts on the extent an individual can be held morally responsible for their actions. Moral components of personal identity have been highlighted in recent research (Strohminger & Nichols, 2014) and suggests the folk view is that consistent morality is central and the most important component of personal identity.

Examples of breakdowns of personal identity include a movement from “multiple persons” thesis of Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD)/ DID (Wilkes, 1981) to a “single but disintegrated persons” view of MPD/DID (Lizza, 1993). This debate has shifted responsibility of single person thesis of meeting ordinary threshold criteria for responsibility (Sinnott-Armstrong & Behnke, 2000), to lack of control (and therefore lack of responsibility) when in an altered state (Kennett & Matthews, 2002) - these altered states are a form of delusion and should be treated the same as other psychiatric conditions (e.g. schizophrenia). This shift to altered states is uncontrollable and unpredictable and may lead to diminished cognitive and moral capabilities in respect to autonomy.

Concepts of responsibility entail that matters are under an individual’s control for them to be held blameable or accountable for them. This concept of agency also entails deliberative capacity and consistent moral judgement and direction of behaviour in line with these deliberations – i.e. knowing what they are doing and intending to do it. DID disrupts memory thus affecting self-control and future agency – the lack of memory of an event or plans is problematic in terms of deliberation. Deliberation requires self-knowledge and mental time travel abilities (Schechtman, 1994), which involves the ability to project oneself into the future. DID reduces individual autonomy and ability to plan for the future and should be considered analogous to other major mental health problems (e.g. schizophrenia – Kennett & Matthews, 2002). The episodic nature of DID changes the capacity for agency and moral consistency and neither is controllable or predictable to the affected individual – thus, they cannot be viewed as having permanent deliberative capacity over future actions and cannot be held responsible for their capacity to work.

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Current debate accepts that in personal identity, it is the moral aspects that are the most important, and DID disruptions to moral continuity render them unfit for most workplaces, even if they are otherwise psychologically and physically healthy. The Reference Group on Welfare Reform needs to take these important implications into their recommendations if they are to come up with effective policy solutions.

2.1 Analysis.

and providing support for episodic work capacity disruptions of serious mental health disorders, and avoiding encouraging perceptions of hopelessness of those classified as disabled. Encouragement of the acceptance of the “principle of reasonable adjustment” and recognition of the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of these disorders needs to be promoted amongst employers. Employment capacity assessments should recognise periodic impairments, and the differences between full, partial/episodic and lack of work capacity should be defined by clear criteria. Prospects of DID individuals for The purpose of the Australian welfare system is to completing demanding intellectual challenges can provide for the attainability of modern life’s essen- be better fulfilled by a flexible education system, tials for those with reduced, or no work capacity that recognises the nature of their condition and and to restore to independent well-being those provides consultative supports and flexible assessof working age with a capacity to work. Mental ment timeframes needed to accommodate adverse health disadvantages present challenges to employ- episodes. Its episodic nature requires understanders and welfare, and the Interim Report suggests ing and flexibility in order to accommodate its targeted specialist health and disability employdemands – welfare/education/employment systems ment services should form part of the policy of which are neither, will not achieve equitable treatprograms that break down stigma in the communi- ment, nor fulfilment of any work capacities of DID ty, and enhance individual skills and confidence. individuals.

The effects of episodic psychological

Moral identity inconsistency episodes conditions on moral identity, disrupts the employ- are by nature, disruptive to educational and work ment and educational capacities of individuals capacity. Welfare reform’s focus should be on and presents obstacles to the return-to-work focus reducing motivations to exaggerate disability’s of the Interim Report. DID affects memory and effects, maximise consultative support, reducing the capacity to deliberate about future plans – an barriers to attaining and maintaining participation, essential component of consistent moral and and educating employers/community about the personal identity, memory and work capacities for nature and capacity of mental health affected indideliberative reasoning which are disrupted by DID. viduals. These objectives are achievable through a Individuals have reduced work capacity when they targeted training/awareness campaign to employers lack control over future mental health states, and and welfare recipients in returning mental health lack future agency and autonomy in deliberations affected individuals to participation. Where this about completing work assigned tasks. Whilst DID is not achieved, the provision of a safety net and is episodic in nature, the general DID condition adequate consultative support is needed. itself is permanent and has been theorised to result from severe early child abuse stress that causes the 3.0 Conclusion. mind to fragment as a survival strategy.

The Interim Report suggests that the DisThe Interim Report should consider both theory ability Support Pension (DSP) should be reserved and observed evidence of DID work capacities and for those who have no capacity to work. This clearly distinguish (with criteria) between no casuggestion fails to take into account the realities pacity, episodic/partial, and full capacity to work. of those with serious mental health conditions. A Being unable to control/predict the onset of epibetter approach would be to reserve the DSP for sodic disruptions tests the tolerance and patience those with reduced capacity to hold down a perof employers and greatly affects the employability manent job – this would capture DID’s reality as and work capacities of DID individuals. these situations require working capacity assess Recommendations must recognise mental ment to account for not only their general cognihealth conditions that influence the consistency of tive abilities, but autonomy and self-control over moral identity (e.g. DID, schizophrenia, major defuture actions, and how social/interpersonal/work pression, bipolar disorder). Employment capacity relationships change and are negatively affected by evaluations must include impact on social/interperthe unpredictable episodes. Human nature desires sonal skills and more general cognitive abilities of consistency from everyday contacts. Only a tiny adverse episodes - This is due to how stigma in the minority of employers will tolerate otherwise and community influences social/work relationships provide the necessary flexibility – it is not realistic, and employability. or in their self-interest to expect employers to look Recommendations must provide specialist after the vulnerable in a modern Australia society and safety net support for those with mental health focused on wealth acquisition. problems, and a public education campaign tar In providing hope for future participation, geted at employers/managers/community to break a balance must be struck between recognising down participation barriers, and to enhance com

34 munity acceptance of the uncontrollable effects on work capacity.

References: An Interim Report by the Reference Group on

Welfare Reform to the Minister for Social

Services – A New System for Better Em

ployment and Social Outcomes. Australian

Government, June 2014

Jabour, B. Mentally ill people could lose

disability support pension in welfare over

haul The Guardian, 30th June, 2014.

Kennett J. and Matthews S. “Identity, Control and

Responsibility: The case of Dissociative

Identity Disorder.” Philosophical Psycholo

gy, vol. 15, no. 4 (2002). pp509-526 Lizza, J. ‘Multiple personality and personal identity

revisited’, The British Journal for the

Philos ophy of Science, vol.44, no. 2

(1993), pp.263-274.

Locke, J. An Essay concerning Human

Understanding (1690): ‘Of Identity and

Diversity” (Book2. Chapter 27, para 9-11)

P.H.Nidditich, ed., (Oxford: Clarendon

Press, 1975) pp335.337.

Parfit, D. Reasons and Persons (Oxford: Clarendon

Press, 1984) chapter 10: ‘What we believe

ourselves to be,’ pp.199-209.

Sinnott-Armstrong, W. and Behnke, S., ‘Respon

sibility in Cases of Multiple Personality

Disorder,’ Nous, vol.34, supplement14

(2000), pp301.23.

Schechtman, ‘The truth about memory’ Philosoph

ical Psychology, Volume 7 (1994) pp.3-18.

Strohminger, N., and Nichols, S. “The Essential

Moral Self,’ Cognition, Vol.131 no.1 (2014) pp.159-171 Wilkes, K. ‘Multiple personality and personal

identity’, The British Journal for the

Philosophy of Science, vol.32, no.4 (1981), pp.331-348.

35

Work and the Good Life Reflective Portfolio Nicholas Webb-Wagg

What’s In a Name?

changing them. So I think it is with work.

As this exercise is about reflection, it seems fitI have developed a habit of simplifying the titles of ting that I should go through some of what I have many of the courses at university. learned in reverse.

For instance, The Moral Psychology of Good & Evil (PHIL226) often becomes simply, as Work Without The Recognition Necessary For some of my peers point out, we have really only Meaning. examined evil. When referring to this course, I find myself calling it “The philosophy of work,” and I The final issue broached in the course, and the first know I’m not the only one. Work is the crux of the I will discuss, revolves around meaningless work, unit, after all. and how it threatens our fulfilment in work through

But the more I reflect upon what we have alienation and subjectivisation (which I will return been studying – of what work is to our lives, and to in a moment). It is, I think, easily the most interwhat I think it should be – the more I understand esting and important subject in the course. It is also that a philosophy of work must first answer what the topic that most readily unifies and contrasts it is that humans ought to do. To decide what we the two titular topics of the unit: work life and the should do with our individual and collective indus- good life. In my mind, the good life for a person try, we must first identify what we should be living does not necessarily involve pleasure, happiness, for. wealth, prestige, physical health or reproduction.

Periodically, I return to the full title of These things may be desirable, and conducive to the course: Work and the Good Life, and realise a good life, but not strictly essential. I believe that how appropriate and essential that name is. I try a good life is a meaningful life: one in which the to guess why it is that I keep forgetting to keep person achieves a sense of purpose and fulfilment, in mind both halves of the equation. Sometimes I and in which their deeds seem to have some signifwonder whether this failure to mentally connect icance. our labour with our fulfilment is symptomatic of

If everyone has a project of self they seek our age; an indicator of what I believe to be a fault to realise, then a good life is one in which a perin our day-to-day sense of the role work must play son is faithful to their project1, and is authentic in our lives. Or perhaps my peers and I simply for- to themselves in the choices (and sacrifices) they get to look at the ‘Good’ half of any of our courses. make. This may be achieved even at the expense of My lingering impression is that people are not ter- good health, wealth, fame, pleasure and happiness. ribly reflective when it comes to the nature of work The readings for week 12 (Smith2 and Vosmin(its purpose, personal cost, and role in shaping our kel3) reveal two primary ways in which work lived experience), or else, if they do reflect, their can threaten our need for meaning. On the one contemplation feels somehow divorced from their hand it can fail to satisfy our need for fulfilment, workaday activities. In a sense, it reminds me of such as when work is necessary but mindless and moral and epistemic scepticism, where we find that soul-crushingly monotonous. On the other hand it even if the arguments are logically sound and com- can undermine our authenticity itself, as in subjecpelling, we are encouraged to politely disregard tification, where we are expected to identify with them, because to take those criticisms seriously our working role and internalise the objectives of would undermine institutions that are so integral to the company. our way of life that it is distressing to even imagine 1. Contrast with “Bad faith” in the Sartrean sense, where the subject chooses to be inauthentic by forgoing their own power to negate the world and choose their own project. For example, Sartre’s waiter, who pretends he is just a waiter.

2. Nicholas Smith – ‘Meaningless Work’ [2015?]

3. Stephan. Vosminkel – ‘Admiration without Appreciation - The Paradoxes of Recognition of Doubly Subjectivised Work’ [2012]

36 Zombification & Alienation.

about the popularity of this mindset (that everyone can be the exception), given the sheer volume of I think the first case above is what comes to mind articles, books and other media that advocate it.5 when people ponder meaningless work. It is the

The problem Vosminkel describes is subclassic image of the drudge – the cog-in-the-majectivisation. He claims that recognition as apprechine factory worker with no personal interest or ciation has fallen by the wayside with the shift in investment in whatever it is they are helping to cre- late 20th C. business models6. Employers now ate. This alienation from work is a recurring theme presuppose that their employees identify with their in films, music, and other art.4 The fear that the work. That is to say, they believe that by applying labouring class are becoming zombies seems to be for the job, the job is in fact a means of self-exthe same concern described by several of the clas- pression for the employee – an integral part of their sical philosophers we have studied. Adam Smith project of self-realisation. There is no noble sacriin ‘The Wealth of Nations’ (p.735) admits that the fice involved – the person must choose the job as benefits of the productive society he advocates their own autonomous project –and therefore the will likely result in a caste of stupid and ignorant employee can never be owed appreciation recoghuman creatures, with no opportunity to exercise nition. But this means the only form of recognition their higher human capacities (understanding, available to them now is admiration. This is part of rational conversation, sentiment, good judgement, Vosminkel’s paradox of recognition: When exceletc). Alienation from working activity is one of lence becomes the norm, workers are expected to the primary themes throughout our brief foray into surpass expectations.

Marxian philosophy. The nature, direction, and product of the activity is decided by others, well Absurd Circles. removed from the labourers who undertake the work itself. The instrumentalised activity has no

In Existential Questions (PHL238), I saw intrinsic meaning for the man on the ground. how recognition from others plays an integral role in the formation of the self and one’s personal Acquiescing to Subjectification. world. We are constantly creating and recreating ourselves, adjusting our project of self as we In the second case, Vosminkel argues that the accept or reject the ways in which we perceive expectations companies have of their employees the Others perceiving us7. Therefore recognition has changed significantly in recent decades, replays an important part in the creation and assigflected in the shifting ways we confer recognition. nation of meaning in general. So the implications Vosminkel identifies two forms of recognition / es- of Vosminkel’s argument are quite profound: We teem: Recognition as appreciation is owed to those can no longer rely on appreciation to give meanpeople who exemplify (usually moral) norms, such ing to our work. So in order to find recognition as duty, obedience and loyalty, typified by some (and meaning) in work, we must earn admiration. sort of personal sacrifice for the sake of the comBut admiration is only awarded to the unusual mon good. We are obliged to appreciate the sacriand outstanding worker, so most work must necfices of hard working people who dutifully accept essarily become meaningless. But even for those in some way becoming a victim of the job they who excel, there is a strong sense in which they must perform in order to contribute to the commu- are recreating their own project of self to fit the nity (the ‘greater good’ mentality). expectations of the job. I am reminded of Arendt’s

Conversely, recognition as admiration is claim that we have transformed all our action- the due to those individuals who excel in their chosen most noble and human of activities– into mere task. Outstanding achievement, singular skills, and animal labour. Thus, even if they earn admiration, above all, success: recognition of this sort is reit is a hollow recognition, because they are being served for those people who surpass expectations. inauthentic and faithless to themselves. Between They cannot be trivially replaced, like another cog alienation and subjectivisation, all work faces the in the machine. I tend to agree with Vosminkel threat of becoming absurd and meaningless.

4. Stephan. Vosminkel – ‘Admiration without Appreciation - The Paradoxes of Recognition of Doubly Subjectivised Work’ [2012] 5. For example, in this article ‘Here’s how to find a career that is both personally satisfying and will make a difference’ by William MacAskill. While it is geared towards discovering a career that will aid in charitable work, it is still typical of career advice I’ve seen online.

6. Appreciation tends to have moral undertones, whereas modern business feels distinctly non-moral.

7. I am thinking of my own interpretation of Heidegger, but similar descriptions can be found amongst the other existentialists.

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Work Without The Recognition Necessary For Respect.

From a lack of meaning to a lack of respect: We initiated week 11 with a brief discussion on bullying, but quickly discerned that this is just one symptom of a wider problem: a lack of respect in the workplace. Whether people feel belittled, victimised, patronised, or ignored, the common factor seems to relate to a perceived failure on the part of other people in the working environment (perhaps not even other staff, but customers) to treat the worker with the basic dignity or recognition they deserve.

the person expected to do the work, it must mean that we too are disvalued and unworthy.

The Role of Work in Fulfillment.

I know that as a child, and well into my 20’s, I considered work with a mixture of dread and resentment. I’ve been trying to understand what belief lay at the heart of this aversion, and I think relates to authenticity. I felt that work was beneath me – not because I was anything special amongst the human race, but because the human race is special. We are unique beings with the capacity for profound ideas and experiences, and soulful, meaningful lives. Lifelong work seemed to be an unfair burden. The sacrifice seemed too great to be Forms of Respect. justified: the best of everything we have to offer, from the best hours of the day, the best years of our In Ethical Theory (PHL225), I was particularly life, the best efforts our minds and bodies. I defiinterested in an article by Stephen Darwall’s called antly resolved that I’d rather be poor but free than ‘Two Kinds of Respect,’8 in which he divides waste the greater share of my life in pointless toil.9 respect between recognition respect and apprais What I’ve come to appreciate, and what al respect. Recognition respect is the disposition this course has helped me to articulate, is how to limit our behaviour in regard to some factor, work can become the greatest means of personal either because the potential consequences make it expression and activity in my life. After school I prudent to do so (as when we are careful around quickly realised that a life without some task to wild animals, hazards, strangers, etc.), or because perform is a sedentary and ultimately unlived life – we recognise the (moral) rightness of some state a continuous non-event. I couldn’t even mark time, of affairs (as when we choose not to interfere with and even now the years following high school a process we believe is just). Appraisal respect is remain a black uneventful blur in my memory, like reserved for when we hold someone in high esa years-long night of insomnia. I can confirm many teem, due to a positive evaluation of their merits or of the observations we made in week 9 concerning excellence. the negative effects of long term unemployment,

There seems to be a connection here beespecially depression and lack of motivation as tween Darwall’s moral recognition respect and well as limitations on agency. It wasn’t until I Voswinkel’s appreciation recognition, in that we forced myself to work that I began to develop a find the normative rightness of their action morally healthier sense of agency. I had this in mind when commendable. Furthermore, Darwall’s appraisal we looked at Hegel in week 5, who argued that respect seems quite analogous to Voswinkel’s adfreedom is (at least partly) generated and enjoyed miration recognition. As such, I find that the topics through engagement in social roles and instituof week 11 and 12 (work without respect and work tions. There is no “Man” enslaving each of us and without meaning) are far more closely connected forcing us to be worker-drones. If there is a “Man,” than first appears, and the common thread seems to it is all of us together, in an interdependent web of be the importance of recognition in the formation needs and capacities to satisfy those needs. of a healthy self. When our company or peers are actively disrespectful or passively fail to show New Outlooks. us proper respect, we feel as though our identity as a person is being disvalued, which is naturally In Marx and Arendt I found ideas that have helped distressing. But it is just as distressing to come to me to reflect on both my anxieties and my ambelieve that one’s work has no value, that it is fubitions for work. I fear my labour being utterly tile, or not worthy of recognition. By extension, as alien and irrelevant to me: a kind of loveless 8. Stephen Darwall- “Two Kinds of Respect” in Ethics, Vol.88 No.1 [1997]

9. “Is that why you chose to do philosophy?” some of my more smartassed friends might ask (probably fellow philosophy students).

38 giving-of-myself to faceless others in exchange for subsistence. Marx calls this alienation from one’s labour, and it seems utterly appropriate. Arendt fears modern man has transformed even his most creative works into mere animal maintenance (labour), robbing him of his expressive potential.

But both Marx and Arendt also present the possibility for something far more optimistic: a means of engaging with our work that is not merely better for us, but actively revitalizing for our lived existence. Marx advocates returning to work as an expressive action. We have the power to reintegrate (rather than alienate) ourselves with our works, to make them personal and reflective extensions of our being. That said, I’m not sure how I can live this ideal, except to take a more active role in the production and use of the things I want and need in my daily life. I’m more confident about Arednt’s solution, in which we break the cycle of basic animal labour and attempt to become more political, socially concerned beings, invested in the wider narrative of our world.

Furthermore, these sorts of systems (especially Smith’s) lead to workers being alienated from the products they create. Locke and Marx in particular place great emphasis on the bond a person should have with the products of their own hands. It feels strange to claim that a person has no right to something they themselves have toiled to create.

Finally, there is the interesting way in which Plato and Smith’s systems generate the fear of unemployment. In Smith’s system, each person is only as necessary as the mechanism they correspond to. It is almost trivial to replace any given person with another worker, or even a machine, if they can perform the same menial task. Therefore, there is an inherent level of anxiety and uncertainty hanging over the head of each worker. In Plato’s society, each specialist seems more uniquely suited, even cultivated, and so replacing any given member of the society might prove difficult. But it also seems easy to mismanage. We might end up with too many cobblers or fletchers, leaving many out of business with no other specialities. FurtherBack to the Beginning: The Division of Labour. more, in either society there is the risk of overburdening a given worker to the point they burn out, I’d like to conclude by briefly reflecting on where causing emotional and physical damage.\ we started. We began the course with a look at sev- Our societies have made a lot of positive eral successive theories of the division of labour, changes since Smith’s time, allowing for greatmost notably from Plato and Smith (the two most er individual agency and freedom in how we are iconic iterations, I think). Plato believed that jusemployed. But this brings us back to Voswinkel’s tice and the good life can only flourish when soci- concern about the commodification of our autonoety is well ordered. In a well ordered society, each my itself. person has a role to play or task to perform, for

Overall, at the end of this course, even which they are the best suited. Injustice prevails though I don’t know how these problems can be when people fail to meet expectations or overstep solved, I feel far better equipped to identify when their boundaries. Smith believed that the more a things are going wrong. I’ve also been left with civilisation’s industries create specialised roles, a keen interest in how some of the more positive th more production can be sped up and refined, theories (such as Arendt’s) can be made to work. I escalating productivity tremendously, and with it guess it doesn’t feel like the course is ending here. wealth for all participants (at least indirectly).

Rather, it feels like my work has just begun.

I still find this state of affairs intuitively unsettling, and at the conclusion of the course I can point out a few factors that give me pause. For one thing, Plato claims these sorts of societies should necessarily be just societies when they are working well, but this seems at odds with contemporary associations between justice and fairness (e.g. Rawls’ famous paper). It does not seem fair that some people should be forced to perform menial tasks endlessly while others reap seemingly disproportionate rewards for services (politicians, lawyers, and CEOs are common targets in the media).

Epicurus and Modernity Edwin Chen

By arguing that pleasure is the “starting point and goal of the happy life” (PHL132 Reader p.4), Epicurus means that all other considerations are unnecessary to leading the truly good and happy life, during the ancient times in which he was writing.

Epicurus has a particular conception of pleasure in mind, freedom from bodily pain, fear and mental disturbance – i.e. ataraxia. In this hedonistic, consequentialist philosophy, mental pleasures are more valuable than physical pleasures, and ataraxia is the ultimate pleasure and goal necessary for achieving true happiness. O’Keefe suggests it is less misleading to call Epicurus a “tranquilist” (PHL132 Reader p.9).

Epicurus argued for three types of desires: natural and necessary (health sustaining needs e.g. basic bread, water, shelter); natural and unnecessary (e.g. meat, wine, sex); unnatural and unnecessary (e.g. wealth, fame, status, power). He advocated simple living, only pursuing necessities in pursuing pleasure and that by self-limiting to health sustaining essentials, we will be happier as those needs are more easily satisfiable and we will avoid mental disturbance from unsatisfied, inconsequential desires.

In lectures, Deranty pointed out that Epicurean philosophy is selfish and self-centred however friendship is included amongst natural and necessary desires. Also, Epicurean friendship is instrumental towards the goal of ataraxia – as without friendship, we suffer the pain of loneliness and consequently, suffer poor mental health and so we seek the company of friends and take pleasure when they flourish. In pursuit of living simply, Epicurus advocated retreating from cities to minimise socially-based corrupting influences and mental disturbances.

Epicurus argues that the two main threats to ataraxia are the fear of the gods and death. But the gods are not concerned with rewarding or punishing humans, and pain or pleasure are not felt when dead as we cease existence - so fear of either is unnecessary.

Epicurus advocated neither the seeking of

every pleasure, or avoiding every pain. He argued for “sober thinking” - that sound judgement be used in making calculations in pursuit of the best long term pleasurable effects. For gaining some long term pleasures, we should tolerate some short term suffering (e.g. pain of discipline in studying at university in order to gain the pleasure of mastery of knowledge) and some pleasures should be avoided where pursuing them in the long run leads to significant pains (e.g. regularly consuming sugary foods and beverages, although enjoyable, leads to diabetes and poor health).

For Epicurus, the virtuous life and pleasant life are inseparable - it is impossible to live virtuously and unpleasantly, or unvirtuously and pleasantly. He argues that living pleasantly is living “sensibly, nobly and justly” (PHL132 Unit Reader p5), and vice versa, living sensibly, nobly and justly is living pleasantly, and this is based on sound rational judgement which itself is the beginning of ataraxia.

Epicurean lifestyles may work for small groups living in a rural setting, but cannot work for the majority - for Epicureanism to be of true value, it must have realistic, universalisable applicability.

Whilst tranquillity is valued by all, there is more to the good life than retreating from interaction with non-friends in pursuit of mental imperturbability. Attempts at ignoring serious problems of others (e.g. famine, slavery, genocide) would upset tranquillity for many practitioners. For there is a problem in retreating from others to pursue peace of mind, i.e. for many, abandonment of people to these problems will be a cause of mental disturbance in itself. Those who take this philosophy to the point of retreating from society (like Epicurus did) are wholly selfish, self-centred and are not disturbed by the suffering of others and thus, these views cannot, in good conscience, be pursued by everyone.

If everyone aimed at ataraxia as the goal of a happy life, the world would probably be simpler and more peaceful – but realistically, not everybody

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40 does (or can agree on conceptions of what desires are needed to achieve tranquillity, and some of these may disturb it in others). While there remains serious problems (e.g. unjust wars, crippling poverty, violent crime, disease), pursuing ataraxia by retreating from others (like Epicurus did) is not tolerable for many - inaction on serious harm prevention opportunities do not fit conceptions of morality (or happiness) that many can accept and attempts at ignoring these problems by retreating from people, is a cause in itself that will cause many thinkers mental disturbance (e.g. action on harm prevention might take the form of engagement in public advocacy in civil or politic debates on collective action). I ask Epicurus, how does inaction on harm prevention opportunities fit into his conceptions of living justly?

It has been pointed out that in modernity, an Epicurean lifestyle is impractical - you need wealth to be self-sustaining, even if you lived simply. Basic foods, water, shelter and medical treatment require money in modern times and thus you need income and skills, which implies living in a community with an economy large enough to sustain employment and education. If you already had wealth, minimal income would suffice (e.g. with friends you could buy or rent a small farm which satisfies its own necessities), but unless you inherited or won the lottery, how would you attain the necessary currency? In modernity, living as Epicurus lived is unrealistic for all, and it would need to be realisitic for his arguments to be taken seriously.

Epicurean aims of living simply, tranquilly and distinctions about pursuing and avoiding specific calculated pleasures and pains are unobjectionable. In modernity, many pursue unnecessary desires (e.g. status symbols like big houses with great views in fashionable locations), or which when fulfilled are detrimental to our long term well-being than the pleasures in pursuing them would suggest (e.g. regular drug-taking leading to addiction and poor health). Epicurean lifestyle can be appealing, but is naively unrealistic in modernity, not applicable to everybody, and retreating from the problems of cities and humanity takes it too far. While simple living and pursuing ataraxia based on sound rational judgement is agreeable, the extent that Epicurus himself took it - ignoring other’s problems – is unconscionable.

References: Cooper, D.E - Epicurus, “Letter to Menoeceus”

and “Leading Doctrines” in Ethics: The

Classic Readings, Oxford, Blackwell -

PHL132 Unit Reader S1 2014 p.1-6 Deranty, J.-P. - PHL132 Lectures on Epicurus and

Stoicism - weeks 2-3 S1 2014 O’Keefe, T. - Epicureanism University of

California Press - PHL132 Unit Reader S1

2014 p.7-12

Lex Injusta Non Est Lex Matthew Su What is the relationship between law and justice? Can laws which are not just be ‘laws’ at all? This paper attempts to answer these questions by asking how we derive the categories of law and justice in the first place, and illuminating the deep connection between these concepts. The paper will draw upon the “natural law” tradition, which derives the content of justice and the boundaries of law from human nature. It will be defended against the school of positivism, which thinks law can be understood as a purely sociological phenomenon, without requiring any understanding of justice in order to understand what law is.

Introduction.

This paper deals with the basic question, ‘What is law?” It will argue that positive law, (the law that human beings make), exists only within the boundaries of natural law, the principles of action implicit in human nature itself. It will further be argued that law compels our behaviour only insofar as it reflects the natural law. I hope to show that law exists only insofar as it conforms to a prior standard of natural justice, and that therefore the question of what laws are cannot be divorced from issues of natural justice. The natural law model to be considered will be that of Thomas Aquinas. Methodological, substantive and pragmatic objections from the positivist point of view will be considered, and it will be argued that these objections fail and in fact Aquinas’ normative account of law is superior even as a descriptive method.

Natural Law.

“political.”3 That is, to be a rational animal just is to be the kind of being which distinctly can relate to fellow rational animals in recognition of their rationality by coordinating rationally toward the common good. Hence the distinctively human, or “good” way of behaving as a group just is to exist in a community that itself is essentially ordered toward the common good by reason.

Aquinas recognizes that the natural law by itself, fixed by necessity in human nature, is often indeterminate with respect to many contingent operational and coordination problems of the community.4 The coordinative nature of the community entails the existence of a coordinating authority that solves such problems, and so part of the good of the members of the community consists in obedience to this authority. Positive law- law created solely on human authority- thus by its very nature is an institution of the natural law, and in this sense is both intrinsically and derivatively authoritative. An unjust law, as intrinsically counter to the good, is not part of the operation of distinctly human community (which operates insofar as it coordinates the actions of society toward the good of its members) upon its parts. It therefore cannot properly speaking be considered a kind of internal “social coordination” at all, but is rather an act of violence by an individual or group, acting apart from the community, just as a policeman who breaks the law is not acting as a policeman in so doing. We cannot have obligations to obey such a so-called “law” in itself, though there may be other grounds for such an obligation.

For Thomas Aquinas, the positive law is by nature a derivation of the natural law.1 The latter is called “natural” because it is grounded in human nature and accessible to reason. Aquinas’ contentions about human nature are not statements of mere regularities in human behaviour. Rather, they are contentions about human essence- of what it is to be human at all.2 Natural law derives its normative force from the inherently perfective aspect of conforming to human nature; human beings who conform to their essence are more perfectly human, hence whatever conforms to that nature is part of their good as humans- this is a denial of the is/ Objection: Is Natural Law faith-based? ought distinction. For Aquinas, it is part of the human essence, as a distinctly rational animal, to be The first kind of objection can call into question 1. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I-II, Q. 95 art. 1 2. Ibid II-I Q. 94 art. 3.

3. Ibid II-I Q. 96 art. 4.

4. Ibid. Q. 95 art. 2.

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42 the philosophical approach of natural law, which is supposedly “religious,” “metaphysical”, or “non-empirical” – shorthand for “not accessible to reason.” These objections seem to be based upon caricatures of Aquinas. The fact that Aquinas’ model is couched in an ultimately theistic metaphysics does not imply that his conclusions cannot be justified without reference to theism, for his proximate justifications for his conclusions are based on premises that are independently obvious.

That there is a human nature, and thus there are such things as human beings as opposed to non-human beings, for example, can be granted independently of theism, and it is the existence of human nature, rather than God, which is the starting point for understanding the dictates of natural law.

Aquinas furthermore regards the understanding of natural law as the deliverance of reason,5 specifically the disciplined inquiry into the real natures of things, or metaphysics. Indeed, his metaphysics gives him reason to deny Hume’s is/ought distinction, for it allows him to demonstrate how the “ought” is “baked into” the “is” by way of essence.

Aquinas thus conducts a disciplined study of ethics that makes moral facts more accessible to observation, not less. One might deny the metaphysical essentialism upon which natural law depends, but as involved as the arguments for essentialism can be, it hardly seems reasonable to say that there is an obvious basis here to reject natural law wholesale. In any event, the anti-essentialist has to contend with formidable defences of essentialism as in Oderberg, which renders this objection very unpromising.6

similarity between just and unjust laws, for example, leads positivists to accept that they belong to the same class of social phenomenon.7 If morally normative language has a place in the description of law qua law on positivism, it is in beliefs about law that need to be taken into account, rather than as part of an objective description of law’s nature8.

If law is thus not intrinsically connected to moral rectitude qua law, then the critical natural law thesis- that positive law is intrinsically dependent upon the moral law to be positive law, is false.

Thus, the positivist challenge is a very serious one for the Thomistic natural law theorist.

The Thomist’s reply to this is to say that a full description of the reality must encompass the metaphysical reality of normativity, because he denies the erroneous bifurcation of reality into normative/descriptive upon which positivism depends.

It would do no good to argue that such argument must be suspended, as positivists do.9 If categorization is to be truly descriptive, it must conduct its analysis on the basis of what human beings are, qua human beings, for an analysis of human community will have to describe how humans qua humans relate. Such an analysis must have normative implications when the “perfective aspect” of human nature is borne in mind. To describe the relations of rational animals qua rational animals is to describe a perfect society of rational animals, hence to assert a norm of human community. A truly descriptive approach of the principles of human community thus necessarily brings our philosophical taxonomies of law to the bar of human nature, just as biological taxonomies are brought to the bar of physiology and evolutionary history. The Objection: Is Positivism descriptively superior positivist’s class of just and unjust laws together as to natural law? equal members of the category of law, because it is not sufficiently grounded in the nature of human A second objection might begin by arguing that action, is akin to the classification of whales as moral (or, better yet, metaphysical) normativity is fish. It is a categorization that ignores the underconceptually superfluous to identifying law. If a lying reality of human relations, which is also truly superior description of law must be concepnormative for human beings, in favour of grouping tually divorced from moral normativity, then one according to similarities that turn out to be metamust conclude that the law cannot carry any moral physically superficial. This metaphysical superficinormativity qua law. Positivism justifies its claim ality means that the positivist “law” is necessarily to descriptive superiority by the merits of its meth- a mere abstraction rather than a substantive acod of focusing on the observable similarities in count of human institutions. It is precisely insofar structure between systems of law, while eschewing as jurisprudence seeks to analyse law in terms of a involvement in ethical speculation- the impressive metaphysical analysis of human nature, with all its 5. Ibid Q .90 art 1.

6. David S Oderberg, Real Essentialism (Routledge, 2007).

7. William Twining, General Jurisprudence (Cambridge University Press, 2009) 26.

8. Herbert Hart, The Concept of Law (Clarendon Press, 2nd ed, 1994) 88-89.

9. Ibid 254.

43 normative implications, that it actually performs the descriptive task of truly perceiving the human categories into which behaviour properly falls. The corollary of the conclusion that, in order to be law, law must conform to human nature, is that laws which do not conform to the nature and norms of the human community- unjust laws- are not laws at all. As St Thomas put it, “lex iniusta non est lex.”

All that is left then for the positivist conception of “law” is the status of a convenient fiction, a sociological abstraction which purports to describe law only in a qualified sense, for limited sociological purposes. At best, in guiding the action of officers of the law, the positivist “law” is a rule of thumb which allows the officers of the law to pick out those things which are, for the most part, true laws which are rightly action-guiding. Such a demotion, however, leaves positivism powerless to dispute the authority in principle of natural law reasoning, when it is seen fit to bring the latter to bear.

institutionalise natural law-friendly assumptions in a piecemeal manner, can only be salubrious to the functioning of law.

Secondly, such an objection does not do justice to the subtlety of Aquinas’s own conception of positive law, which allows for imperfection in the positive law and for a society governed by an imperfect (and therefore, to some degree unjust) law. Very famously, Aquinas argues that the positive law ought to a large extent take into account the moral state of the people, and institute only that which is practicable for the preservation and flourishing of the community, given the community’s ability to be governed.11 There can be further reasons (such as avoiding worse injustice) for the sake of which some injustice in the law is tolerated. Such laws would, despite having elements which allow unjust outcomes (and thus, having non-legal elements which are not in themselves compelling), nevertheless also compel obedience on such a practical basis. A positive law limited by the natural law, then, can tolerate the ordinary Objection: Is Natural Law Legally Impractical? injustice of a well-run but imperfect society, while providing a philosophical basis for the exclusion of

A third objection must be pragmatic. It manifest and intrinsic injustice. might be said that natural law subjects people’s obedience to law to the dictates of private conConclusion. science, or, if judges were to give effect to natural law’s claims that natural justice trumps common I have argued that Aquinas’ metaphysically rich law and statute, this would lead to unacceptable approach to description is superior to the positivunpredictability in the operation of law. ist approach as description, and it easily deflects

I think that in the first place, law already the caricatures of its critics, in fact standing in a gives effect to judges’ consciences. The leeway position to criticise the alternative as defective. His and discretion allowed to judges under many laws argument, grounded in human nature and defiant of is a positive invitation to employ a judge’s expethe is/ought dichotomy, shows that law does have rience and philosophical commitments to bear. a normative claim upon our conduct simply for beIndeed, it is a common law principle of statutory ing law, and as a corollary that insofar as law is not interpretation that, absent explicit instructions to just, it is not truly law. True law just is the particithe contrary, laws cannot abrogate fundamental pation of human reason in the natural law, which in rights and duties.10 Even bodies of law such as turn defines our good individual and communal. equity originated in principles which subordinated the letter of the law and of precedent to natural justice. Such principles, which reflect natural law assumptions about the subordination of law to human flourishing, are in fact essential safeguards which help ensure that the operation of law works for the good of the governed. A natural law philosophical stance on law can only illuminate such principles and provide a common philosophical resource on which to draw. The practical effect of a natural law philosophy, then, given that we already 10. JJ Spiegelman, ‘The Principle of Legality and the Clear Statement Principle’ (2005) 79 Australian Law Journal 769, 769.

11. ST I-II Q.96 art.2.