Tag Archives: Modernism

Maxim: Don’t try to reason with a “happy drunk!”

Happy Drunk

Here are a few cautionary maxims for today’s Socratic Gadflies who have no plans to drink hemlock.

Don’t try to reason with a happy drunk. He’ll hate and despise you for it.

Don’t try to wake up one who insists on sleeping. He’s likely to slap you.

Don’t try to convince someone who believes without any doubts that he has found “The Truth” and therefore that there cannot be other great truths, or that his understanding of “truth” may be limited and partial rather than total and comprehensive.

Don’t try to reason with a man who is committed in principle and practice to irrationality and absurdity, especially if he cloaks his irrationality behind a veil of rationalism and rationalization. Nothing is more crazy-making than using critical reason to deny reason and rationality, or denying the primal experience of subjectivity and consciousness, along with our experiences of narrative, aesthetics and intersubjectivity to deny the fundamental reality of subjectivity and consciousness. If “matter and the void” is all there is, that who is it that is speaking? How does an irreducibly conscious and relational being know that these subjective and inter-subjective experiences are not “really real” but merely the ghost in the machine, the epiphenomen of originally dead and mindless matter? Has one not used “rationality” to argue for the fundamentally irrationality of our minds?

Don’t try to convince anyone whose “final vocabulary” is a dogmatic,  ideological and exclusive commitment to any single intellectual discourse and language-game, whether it happens to be that of science or religion, philosophy or literature, history or mythology, psychology or sociology, economics or politics. Any of these intellectual domains can become a fixation and fetish that undermine the rich and diverse ecology of mind. Our educational system today is increasingly based on narrow academic and technical specialization. Many educators and scholars live in bunkered silos that isolate them from the culture-at-large.

Don’t try to reason and dialogue with those who prefer to live exclusively in only one intellectual discipline and have an ideological axe to grind. They will not see the point in cultivating other intellectual disciplines and critical perspectives since they’ve already made up their minds and are committed to “brand loyalty.”

Don’t try to get a “One Note Charlie” to play all the notes, chords and harmonies and dissonances of the musical scale, and to play many genres of music in a wide variety of keys and registers.

Don’t try to reason with those who are absolutely  committed to the dogma of exclusive bottom-up causality, of matter influencing mind but mind having no causative agency since it is a mere epiphenomenon of matter.

Don’t try to reason with those who are absolutely committed to the dogma of exclusive top-down causality, of mind influencing matter, but matter being merely an illusion of universal mind.

Don’t try to reason with those who are absolutely committed to the dogma that the mental and physical dimensions of experience are two entirely separate and non-overlapping realities.

Don’t try to broaden the perspective of anyone who has fallen insanely in love with one and only one explanatory principle that he applies mechanistically to all domains of knowledge and realms of life experience. Sometimes “multiple explanatory dimensions and levels” may be more helpful than forcing a single descriptive explanation upon all phenomena of experience.

Don’t try to convince those who are content spending all their free time watching TV and listening to the radio that reading good books and articles that invite them think more deeply about life may be a better and more rewarding use of their time. Those who prefer to be zoned out and have made this the habit of their lives will resent those who try to get them to think about anything at all.

Don’t try to explain to those who are content to live “unexamined lives” that “it is better to be Socrates discontent than a pig content.” They will tell you that “the examined life” is  over-rated. Instead, they will explain that what matters is to live instinctively and sensuously in our appetites and egos as noble savages. They will tell us “to stop thinking and have a good time.” Their hedonistic counsel is “to eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

When does it occur to either the “rationalist” or the “sensualist” that it is possible to integrate the entire ecology of our being, including the natural, sensuous, emotive, imaginative, cognitive, volitional, ethical, intuitive and spiritual dimensions of our lives?

Don’t try to broaden and expand the sensibilities and tastes of the exclusively  partisan purveyors of “high-brow” classical culture who are contemptuous and condescending toward “middle-brow” bourgeois pop culture and “low-brow” bohemian folk culture, or of those who exclusively identify themselves with either of these two other cultural levels of experience and expression. Each has his own “elective affinity” with different sensibilities and tastes.

When does it occur the partisan purveyors of high-brow culture, middle-brow culture and low-brow culture that each speaks in its own distinct idioms and dialects, and that each “cultural brow” has something unique to contribute to the greater ecology of being?

Today’s “Socratic gadfly” who values “the examined life” encounters as many intellectual, cultural, civic and social “mind-fields” as Socrates did in his day. What we have today that was not available to Socrates is a better understanding of the role that biological genes and culture memes play in the formation of different metaphysical assumptions. It would seem that these are rooted in pre-verbal feeling and in what Michael Polanyi calls the “tacit dimension” of “personal knowledge”, and are only secondarily cognitive and empirical. We have a genetic and psychological predisposition as well as cultural and societal preference for holding a particular set of metaphysical and epistemological beliefs, as well as aesthetic tastes, ethical norms, economic interests and political values.

Today’s “Socratic gadfly” who would avoid the hemlock experience had better be prepared to encounter these irreducible differences between individual persons and fiduciary communities. He had better recognize the common tendency of human nature to see and interpret everything through the lens of one’s own predispositions, assumptions, beliefs, values, loyalties and commitments. There is no neutral and independent “view from nowhere.” All human knowledge and experience is physiologically conditioned, psychologically influenced, historically situated and linguistically expressed. It is precisely this humbling knowledge of our ignorance and limitations that makes the Socratic gadfly so irritating and perplexing, especially to those who are content to live “unexamined lives” of metaphysical and epistemological slumber. Once we begin to ask the fundamental questions of life we realize that we stand in the presence of Great Mysteries in which there are no easy answers. Here are the Socratic Questions: What is the nature of prime reality and the phenomenal world in which we live? What can we know and how can we know it? How are subjective introspective experience, intersubjective relationships, and knowledge through rational theory and empirical observation related? What are the further reaches of human nature? How ought we to live? What is our vision of the good society? What is our potential for transformation and renewal? For what can we strive and hope?

Here are a few positive maxims:

Cultivate the examined life, even if those around you prefer to remain unconscious, medicated and asleep.

Stay open to the primacy of “immediate experience” in all its paradoxical radiance and pre-linguistic plenitude where the gifts of silence, contemplation, music and art “speak” in the ineffable language of the soul that like the Tao must remain unspoken.

Seek to make meaningful and creative connections between all the vital domains of human knowledge and life experience that constitute the rich and diverse ecology of being.

Learn to speak with at least minimal fluency in all the liberal disciplines rather than putting all your eggs in one basket.

Master at least two intellectual disciplines, preferably one that is right-brain dominant such as music and arts, and another that is left-brain dominant, such as the physical and natural sciences.

Try to give “equal time” to the intellectual and creative disciplines of philosophy and literature, to ideas and narratives, concepts and conversations, theories and stories, paradigms and metaphors, principles and personalities.

Become  conversant in the cultural paradigms of the primal, traditional, romantic, modern, post-modern, and trans-modern perspectives. Include the intuitive and perceptive, authoritative and fiduciary, idealistic and aesthetic, rational and scientific, eclectic and ironic, pluralistic and integrative.

Develop a healthy respect for intuition and sensation, feeling and thinking, introspection and observation, perception and judgment.

Appreciate the perennial human dialectic of pluralistic and integrative impulses, that is, the movement “outward” from the One to the Many, and the counter-movement “inward” from the Many to the One.

Finally, become a Socratic Gadfly if you must, but remember that drinking hemlock is bad for one’s health.

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F.R. Leavis: The Literary Critic As Anti-Philosopher

F.R. Leavis

Thesis: The various academic disciplines of the university world are each “jealous gods” who proclaim, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” This is true whether we are speaking of philosophy, history, literature, arts or sciences. Each would be the Master Discipline, the organizing center of intellectual and cultural life. Each one may develop a natural antipathy to its competitors. Each one may create a vortex of knowledge that becomes a silo of power. But there are better options.

I hold in my hands a collection of essays and papers by the great English literary critic F.R. Leavis entitled “The Critic as Anti-Philosopher.” The companions to this book include Dickens the Novelist, Nor Shall My Sword, The Living Principle: “English” as a Discipline of Thought, and Thought, Words, and Creativity: Art and Thought in D.H. Lawrence. Leavis was invited to deliver the prestigious Clark Lectures at Cambridge in 1965 that was later published as “English Literature in Our Time and the University (1967). Leavis’ subjects of literary criticism included Blake, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Conrad, Coleridge, Arnold, James, Hopkins, Hardy, Joyce, and Dickens, among others. Leavis did admire the philosophical writings of Michael Polanyi, author of “Knowing and Being,” and so his “anti-philosopher” stance was selective rather than universal.

Leavis was a friend of the philosopher Wittgenstein who also taught at Cambridge and on one occasion playfully (but seriously) urged him to “give up philosophy.” This is ironic because in fact Wittgenstein did give up teaching philosophy for a while to go teach school children, something for which he was singularly unsuited. Leavis describes Wittgenstein as an intellectual genius of remarkable intensity who was fascinating to watch at he wrestled in a sustained spontaneous effort to resolve self-imposed problems of his intellectual discipline. Leavis writes, “Wittgenstein has an intensity of a concentration that impressed itself on one as disinterestedness.” But the same could be said of Leavis. There is something obsessive in each of these men’s intellectual passion. Maybe there is something “obsessive” in the temperament of all intellectuals who enjoy working tirelessly on various thought-problems they assign themselves to work on.

And yet it must also be said that there was an intellectual incompatibility, “an antipathy of temperament” between these two men of genius. Leavis puts it this way, “Wittgenstein couldn’t in any case imagine that literary criticism might matter intellectually. Even at that time I had the opposing conviction: it was, as it is, that the fullest use of language is to be found in creative literature, and that a great creative work is a work of original exploratory thought.”

Another literary critic who shares Leavis’ sensibility is Michael Wood, author of “Literature and the Taste of Knowledge.” Wood is the Charles Barnwell Straut Professor of English and Professor of Comparative Literature at Princeton University, and from 1995 to 2001 he was the Director of Gauss Seminars in Criticism at Princeton. He is a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. But here’s his difference from Leavis. He is also a member of the American Philosophical Society. His works include books on Stendhal, Garcia Marquez, Nabokov, Kafka, and films. In addition, he is a widely published essayist and book reviewer. And so we can deduce that Michael Wood is a secular henotheist who is able to render some limited devotion to the god of Philosophy but his supreme devotion belongs to the god of Literature.

Several blogs ago I wrote about the binary nature of intellectual discourse within the various intellectual disciplines of the university world. But it is also true that there is a binary fixation between the liberal disciplines as well. For some that binary tension between Literature and Philosophy. For others it will be a binary tension between Philosophy and Science, or say philosophy and Religion. Any combination of intellectual disciplines can become a binary fixation and focus of dialogue, discourse, dialectic and debate.

What happens rather spontaneously in the complex mental lives of intellectually inclined individuals in general and of professional academics in particular is a gradual concentration and intensification of knowledge and reflection that consolidates principally around one “master discipline.” Its scholarly body of knowledge, assumptions, methods and styles become normative. The deeper one goes into that intellectual discipline and critical domain the more it becomes a creative vortex that gathers up and organizes one’s thought until we see the world almost entirely through its lens. Of course this same process is what creates academic silos from which the intellectual partisans come to view each other across disciplines with growing suspicion.

Occasionally something surprising will happen. A few “organic free-range” intellectuals and “home-grown polymaths” will adopt a radically pluralistic and pragmatic approach to intellectual and cultural inquiry. Such a pluralistic and diversified approach is characterized by “interdisciplinary complementarity” in which no single academic discipline or ideology of any discipline “captures the flag” or “gets to have the last word.” It is a continuing and open dialogue between multiple modes, methods and styles of discourse, like learning to fluently speak multiple languages and dialects. This, of course, is extremely rare. Most domesticated and sequestered academics believe, whether they will publicly admit it or not, that only one intellectual discipline can serve as the master discipline that explains (at the most fundamental level) what is really going on, and it just happens to be the one they have devoted their lives to studying with almost religiously passionate intensity of sustained devotion.

Occasionally something perhaps even curious will happen. An intellectual who had devoted his life to the primary study of one academic discipline, for example natural science, decides that his time would be better spent in the study of philosophy or literature, music or art, and so he switches horses. One can become disillusioned or weary of one’s own intellectual discipline. It may lose its magical luster and persuasive power. And of course this switching of horses may happen in any direction.

In addition, let us admit that we are each naturally influenced by the people around us and by the interests of others. Academic types figure out what seems to have intellectual pizzaz and cultural cache. Let us say one is studying and teaching the humanistic disciplines such as philosophy, religion, history, literature or the arts in an academic community that is overwhelming dominated by the prestigious and well-funded disciplines of science, technology, business and economics. In such an institution professors of the humanities and the arts are likely to feel marginalized and irrelevant to the serious business of the increasingly corporate university, which is, well, business. Colleges and universities that can’t generate income, compensate their faculty, staff the administration and pay their bills go out of business. Let’s be realists here.

One “realist” approach to teaching follows the principle: “If you can’t beat them join them.” Let’s say one is teaching philosophy, an intellectual discipline that some utilitarian cynics question as being relevant, since it is unlikely that one will ever be able to use it to make a living or become a success in the world. The sensible way for a politically astute professor of philosophy to attain at least a measure of status, relevance and respect in a science and technology-driven institution is to teach courses in “Philosophy of Science” and “Ethics of Technology.” Likewise, if theoretical and practical studies in “Economics, Finance, Business and Management” have become the academic center of university  then one hones his liberal academic discipline to address the philosophical and ethical problems of those domains. The ways in which the liberal disciplines of history, linguistic, literature and the arts justify their existence in such a utilitarian academic institution remain deeply problematic.

In any case, it is not only the specialized literary critic like Leavis who is the anti-philosopher. Every intellectual specialization will breed disciplinary elitists who can at best tolerate the distracting presence of the competing intellectual disciplines. They will assume that what is “explained” or left “unexplained” by other disciplines is “fully explained” by their discipline. After all, we only have so much physical and mental energy to spread out and use up.

Here’s my pitch: The great benefit of a true liberal arts education is that we “learn how to learn” through broad and in-depth encounters with multiple disciplines and perspectives that continuously engage each other in critically reflective and constructive dialogue. We learn how to question, compare, contrast, communicatecooperate and collaborate. We learn from others who have “casts of mind” and “styles of temperament” that are quite different from our own. We learn that philosophers, theologians, historians, scientists, literati and artists, among others, can be friends and colleagues without succumbing to suspicion, contempt, alienation or reproach. And this knowledge is precious in any progressive society that values the importance of cultural literacy, intellectual discourse, human solidarity and civil society.

What Are You Seeking?

OldCezanne3 Paul Cezanne, “The Seeker”

I suppose I have been a “seeker” my entire life. This is not to say that I could tell you exactly I have been seeking. It’s a moving target. Nor is it clear to me even today that the object of my search has been for any one distinct thing among other things. The best I can come up with is this: It has been a search for Wholeness, Unity, Totality, the Comprehensive. But as will be apparent in the course of this essay, even that is not the whole answer. The other half is Diversity, Plurality, Individuality and Freedom.

Even though it has now more than forty years ago, I can still remember Dr. George Vick, a philosophy professor at California State University at L.A. telling his class that if we students were looking for “Salvation” or “Enlightenment” that we had come to the wrong academic department. For these we would have to take courses in the religion department. He explained that philosophy was about something else. At first I was not sure whether he was being satiric or sincere. As it turned out, he was being quite sincere, for I later discovered that Dr. Vick was both a philosophical scholar and a spiritual seeker.

Philosophically Dr. Vick was fluent in the ideas of Plato,  Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, Plotinus, Maimonides, Al Ghazzali, Pascal, Montaigne, David Hume, Kant, Schopenhauer, Descartes, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Merleau-Ponty, Martin Heidegger, Ludwig Wittgenstein, William James, John Dewey, and a host of others. Dr. Vick was a master teacher with a passion for ideas and a love of teaching. He knew how to make the great thinkers and their ideas come alive in the classroom.

Spiritually Dr. Vick was a complex hybrid of multiple religious traditions. He had roots in the Roman Catholic Augustinian and Thomistic traditions, as well as the Christian mystics across the ages. But his “spirituality” also included an eclectic blend of Jewish, Islamic, Hindu, Buddhist and Taoist teachings. For Dr. Vick there was no contradiction between Catholic Faith, deep ecumenism, Vedanta, phenomenology and existentialism. He became a kind of spiritual advisor to me while I was in college and introduced me to Thomas Merton among many other authors. I was into reading all things Bonhoeffer at the time, including the provocative idea of “Religionless Christianity.” I was also into Theodore Roszak’s The Making of a Counter-Culture and Alvin Toffler’s Future Shock. Moreover, my academic major/minor was a combination of literature and philosophy, and I was perplexed by the complex intersection between these two disciplines with their divergent methods and styles for engaging the great human questions.

Allow me to digress for a moment. While I was back in high school I had been converted to evangelical Christianity through Youth for Christ and a local Evangelical Covenant Church. That’s a long story, best saved for another time. So it was natural that I got involved with Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship on my college campus. At the same time I found my way to the Hollywood Presbyterian Church because it had developed a counter-culture ministry to hippies called “The Salt Company,” a Christian coffee-house. All of this was worlds apart from my university studies in philosophy and literature, though I did make some attempts at integration.

I remember discovering Mere Christianity  by C.S. Lewis in the college bookstore. I read nearly every book that C.S. Lewis had written – including his Christian apologetics, literary criticism, children’s stories, allegories, poetry, and his novel Til We Have Faces. Then it was on to G.K. Chesterton, George MacDonald, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Dorothy Sayers. I was becoming a lover of all things British. I loved T.S. Eliot’s collection of literary and cultural essays, even when I disagreed with him.

During that period I also remember being introduced to Inter-Varsity Press and to the books of Francis Schaeffer such as Escape from Reason and The God Who Is There. I also remember reading books by Paul Little, Clark Pinnock, John Carnell, Elton Trueblood, Bernard Ramm, James Sire, and many other protestant Christian Apologists.

When I graduated from college I enrolled at Fuller Theological Seminar and received a further education in the evangelical-reformed theological tradition. Because I was now an eclectic general reader who regularly read outside of the assigned curriculum, my studies carried me well beyond the Reformed Tradition. This included the mystical-contemplative, Eastern orthodox, radical-reformed, anglo-catholic, modernist- liberal, neo-orthodox, neo-liberal, existential, deconstructive, and radical revisionist theological traditions. Christianity was splintering into a dozen disparate movements, each claiming to have found the true historical Jesus and to be the authentic apostolic tradition. Any serious study of the world religions would have to wait until I graduated from seminary. But eventually I would get there.

In any case my college education experience, my involvement in the Christian youth counter-culture in Hollywood, and my graduate theological studies in the Reformed Tradition were all worlds apart from the middle-class “religiously allergic” family in which I had been raised. All this was even more culturally distant from the experiences of my childhood, which included the working-class Country Music Hell-Fire-and-Brimstone Pentecostalism on the one hand and New-Thought Mind-Cure Religious Science on the other.

So it is not surprising that by the time I was a young adult I was  religiously and philosophically perplexed by the many options before me, and desperately seeking “a place to stand. “Added to the perplexity was the social turbulence of the late ’60s and the 70’s, including the Civil Rights Movement, the New Left and Counter-Cultural Movement, the Anti-War Movement, the Feminist Movement, the Black supremest Movement, and much more, all of which were being dramatically acted out across the college campuses of America. Given all this cultural confusion and social turbulence, perhaps it was inevitable that I become a “seeker.”

As I moved out of the academic world and into a ministry vocation the big questions of life that perplexed me never went away, nor did I ever feel satisfied that anyone truly saw the whole picture, least of all myself. I went on to spend years quietly explore the world religions, even while my “day job” was within the “main-line” Presbyterian Church, and eventually in ecumenical campus ministry. This later career move gave my greater intellectual freedom to continue my search.

Once I left parish ministry and I re-located myself on the college campus as an ecumenical (and eventually interfaith) campus minister, I was free to devote all of my energy to “the search.” What interested me now was not so much the intra-faith ecumenical conversation that was happening within Christianity, or even the interfaith dialogue between the world religions, though I have great admiration for Hans Kung and the other ecumenical theologians who have taught us so much about the art of dialogue. Increasingly I became interested in several other dimensions of  dialogue: (1)  the dialogue between the Humanities, Arts and Sciences, (2) the dialogue between the Major Worldview Perspectives, and (3) the dialogue between the Great Historical Epochs. Accordingly, I became fascinated by three questions:

(1) How can the realms we designate as spirituality and religion, literature and philosophy, psychology and sociology, mythology nd history, arts and sciences learn from and dialogue with each other in a mutually informed and respectful manner? In William James’ language, how can the “tender-minded” and “tough-minded” temperaments get along with and learn from each other? Behind this question is reflection concerning the Jungian dialectic of introspection and observation, intuition and sensation, feeling and thinking, perception and judgment. To what extent are we capable of transcending (or rising above) our biological endowment,  psychological temperament, cultural context and social conditioning?

(2) How can the various worldview perspectives make room for each other in a pluralist society and global age? How can religious and philosophical dualists, idealists, positivists, panpsychists, pragmatists and others agree to disagree without being disagreeable? How can liberals, conservatives, communitarians, libertarians, and radical centrists foster a constructive dialogue in a democratic civil society?

(3) How can Pre-Modern, Modern, and Post-Modern sensibilities learn from and respect each other? How can the epistemologies of revelation and illumination, reason and science, rhetoric and narrative grant each other some quarter without selling out their own first principles?

The more I spent time exploring the liberal arts, the worldview perspectives and the historical epochs, the more I came to realize that I was experiencing the post-modern condition. Kenneth Gergen calls it “.” In his book entitled “The Truth About the Truth: De-confusing and Re-Constructing the Postmodern World,” Walter Truett Anderson described my experience perfectly: The Post-Modern experience is “how it feels to live amid such a rich, often contradictory barrage of cultural stimuli: what it does to us and what kind of people we become. They say the postmodern individual is a member of many communities and networks, a participant in many discourses, an audience to messages from everybody and everywhere–messages that present conflicting ideas and norms and images of the world.” Gergen believes that this condition is a major problem of our time, but also perhaps the birth-pangs of a new kind of human being.

What am I seeking? In the postmodern age in which one belongs to many communities and networks, participates in many discourses, and is an audience to often conflicting ideals, norms and images of the world that come from everybody and everywhere, the question itself becomes problematic. What has become self-evident is that there is an irreducible and incommensurable plurality of human ideals and desired ends. Even the ideas of “Salvation” and “Enlightenment” with which I began this article have their historic roots in different existential questions and visions of human fulfillment. There can be no “universal common search” that fits the needs and temperaments of all people. We search after different things, and even what we seek may change at different times in our lives. Moreover, we often have no idea that we are seeking anything at all. We just muddle through. Sometimes only in hindsight do we realize that we have been on a great search, even perhaps on an archetypal “Hero’s Journey.”  This journey involves leaving home for the Quest, entering the Mysteries, and returning home to celebrate, mourn, laugh and remember, content to savor the quiet and picturesque life while stepping aside to let the next generation take up the Hero’s Journey as they are ready and able. We learn to practice contentment and gratitude. Our search for the Holy Grail has brought us full circle.

What do I seek? I began by saying that I seek Wholeness, Unity, Totality, the Comprehensive. But that’s not all. One of my literary mentors, Lionel Trilling, reveled in “Variability, Possibility, Complexity, and Difficulty.” I say, “Well yes, me too.” Richard Rorty, the post-modern neo-pragmatist celebrated Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity. He convinced me that Self-Creation and Human Solidarity are both worthy ends, even though they are probably incommensurable pursuits, neither reducible to the other.  What I often experience is life, whether I seek it or not, is Mystery, Ambiguity, Multiplicity and Paradox. I don’t seek these so much as they seek me. As much as I would love to have a “Grand Narrative,” these primal experiences provide a counter-balance of “Learned Ignorance” that calls me to simply “Live the Questions.”

What do I seek? Life is a moving target, not a fixed point. That which I seek may have a “still center” like a hurricane but be swirling with incredible force and speed around its expansive circumference. The center is “moving” and “still”, changing and permanent at the same time. Maybe Heraclitus and Parmenides were both partly right.  I am seeking to live serenely and gracefully in the eye of the storm, to be an aware and observant “witness” to the perennial yet ever-changing dynamics of nature, life, consciousness and civilization, but not to be swept away by the fads, obsessions, manias and spectacles of the fragmented, distracted, chaotic and confusing age in which we live.