You say that brain activity correlates with experience, well, but brain activity is not the experience lived. So, we cannot identified psychic activity with superior nerve activity. The superior nervous activity is the material substrate in interaction with the world that makes possible that world of images, ideas, etc. — armonie
It is not a belief that you reach, it is a logical contradiction; or it rains or it doesn't rain. — armonie
All I have is the information I have now. As far as we know, there is nothing more than what we know through our experiences and senses. — schopenhauer1
My point was other forced acts are considered an aggression, but not this one. Outcomes would not matter, but if we are going to talk about outcomes, there is also collateral damage with this forced action (not just positive experiences). In any other realm of life, if someone forced upon another an action (especially one with mixed outcomes), it would be suspect at best, and deemed wrong at most. The principle of non-aggression was violated. — schopenhauer1
What do you mean by "happy" here disconnected from the qualifiers "being" or "feeling"? — Dranu
Correct, which would be the difference between "being good (in itself)" and "being good for x". Both refer to "fulfilling some x". "Being good" fulfills its own nature and "being good for x" fulfills x. — Dranu
Yet if one is lacking good feelings, isn't there at least some quality of that person that is lacking goodness? Certainly feelings might not be as valuable as promoting other goodness in oneself, but its not nothing. Hence "feeling good" might not be "being good" even if its necessary condition for fully "being good." — Dranu
If no one was born in the first place, no one would need to collaborate. — schopenhauer1
However, I bet you certain aspects of non-aggression are followed in that culture, and I would simply use that. — schopenhauer1
We can do that. But I should mention that I don't think we're free. The responsible, free agent seems to me like an important fiction, but a fiction nevertheless. As I see it, we're all entangled in the causal nexus. Even if we're not exactly predictable, I think we all have a sense of human nature. To have a nature is to be caught in necessity. — Eee
Our ideas appear in our 'minds' in languages that have evolved over centuries, though. — Eee
Set aside the complexity of the issue for the moment and consider that given all initial values of a system the outcome pathway is fully determined. leo said that this isn't possible with 100% accuracy which I disagree to. — TheMadFool
Take the simple example of a space probe. Using rockets in the right locations and fired for the correct durations we can and do predict that the probe lands right side up. — TheMadFool
This is a 100% prediction accuracy and if there are any inaccuracies they are due to unforseen cotingencies like wind or instrument malfunction. — TheMadFool
I hope we can agree now that physical systems at the human scale are deterministic and that includes a fair 6-sided dice which I want to use for this thought experiment. — TheMadFool
1. We know that the system (person A and the dice) is deterministic because person B can predict every single outcome.
2. We know that the system (person A and the dice) is probabilistic because the experimental probability agrees with the theoretical probability which assumes the system is non-deterministic.
There is a contradiction is there not? — TheMadFool
I must confess that 'will' was a concept in Schopenhauer that I could never digest. I like many of his ideas, but 'will' struck me as too vague, and I'm still finding it vague here. — Eee
Certainly human beings created laws, and certainly they had certain feelings tangled up in that. I can make sense of 'feelings' and 'actions.' — Eee
I agree, and for this reason I expect the fact that we and the universe are here in the first place will remain mysterious. Or even unexplainable on principle, in that any explanatory principle would seem to have to be true for no reason. — Eee
I agree about the problem of induction. But note that you suggest the will as an explanatory entity. This would be the law of the laws. Why should we expect to will to continue as it has? The will as intelligible entity (albeit vague) seems to be tangled up in time. It has a nature that can be leaned on as a source of hypotheses. — Eee
Personally I don't believe it, but I do have other narratives, such as the value of mortality for forcing ourselves outside of our vanities, into a realization of how distributed and networked human virtue and knowledge are. If we were individually immortal, we might remain little monsters. Only together are we semi-immortal. The same great ideas and feelings move from vessel to fragile vessel. It's a hall of mirrors. Our own good and evil is reflected in millions of faces around us. My will is not at all single. For me we're all terribly multiple. — Eee
To me this sounds like God, which is fine. But I need a voice from the sky or a burning bush. And even then I'd look for hidden technology. Even if certain things are possible, I'm also keenly aware that human beings are masters of fantasy. As I see it, we are haunted by visions. Our big brains are like fun houses. Perhaps we only face reality, when we do, in order to arrange things so that we can go back to sleep for as long and often as possible. Even this philosophy forum and philosophy itself is a bit like a dream in the context of the rest of my life. And yet I love to dream philosophy. — Eee
So where’s the good and evil? Why mention good and evil? — Brett
What is the evidence, though, of this will? Of course we have some intuitive notion, but don't we have an equally good intuitive notion of law? The idea of nature includes necessity. To me it seems that something like law is fundamental to any kind of talk of nature of essence. Time is quietly involved in all of our thinking. What can knowledge be if we don't expect what we have knowledge about to continue acting as it has acted? — Eee
So what is this ’evil’ that wants to separate? Can you name it? — Brett
What are these forces? — Brett
That makes sense. But then when the individual wants to know what the world's like independent of anyone perceiving it, questions about realism, epistemology and science come into play. And they might want to know this because they think there is a world that's more than just humans perceiving it. — Marchesk
It doesn't follow from the statement "We've been mistaken about some things" that we're been mistaken about everything. It does not follow from the statement "We do not see some things as they are" that we cannot see anything as it is. — creativesoul
Yes, basically that's it, although the visual metaphor bothers me a little, because one might argue we're being fooled by thinking only in terms of vision, where illusions can occur. — Marchesk
Ok. Let's suppose that a normal-sized dice is a "chaotic system" and is actually probabilistic. Just blow-up the dice - increase its size to that of a room or house even. Such a dice, despite its size, would continue to behave in a probabilistic manner despite our ability to predict the outcomes accurately. After all you do accept that rocket trajectories can be predicted and therefore controlled. — TheMadFool
Physics/mechanics???!!! We've put men on the moon. Surely a humble dice is within its reach. — TheMadFool
Augustine was Manichean before converting to Christianity. And a point that is worth considering is Augustine's post-conversion teaching of 'evil as the privation of the good'. This is the principle that evil has no intrinsic or ultimate reality, that it merely comprises the absence of the good, which is real. So, as illness is the absence of health, and shadow the absence of light, then evil is the privation of the good. So it doesn't see the same kind of stark opposition, even though it can recognise evil as evil. — Wayfarer
a disappointing meeting with the Manichaean Bishop, Faustus of Mileve, a key exponent of Manichaean theology, started Augustine's scepticism of Manichaeanism. In Rome, he reportedly turned away from Manichaeanism, embracing the scepticism of the New Academy movement. At Milan, his mother's religiosity, Augustine's own studies in Neoplatonism, and his friend Simplicianus all urged him towards Christianity. Not coincidentally, this was shortly after the Roman emperor Theodosius I had issued a decree of death for all Manichaean monks in 382 and shortly before he declared Christianity to be the only legitimate religion for the Roman Empire in 391.
Manichaeism was repressed by the Sasanian Empire. In 291, persecution arose in the Persian empire with the murder of the apostle Sisin by Bahram II, and the slaughter of many Manichaeans. In 296, the Roman emperor Diocletian decreed all the Manichaean leaders to be burnt alive along with the Manichaean scriptures and many Manichaeans in Europe and North Africa were killed. This policy of persecution was also followed by his successors. Theodosius I issued a decree of death for all Manichaean monks in 382 AD. The religion was vigorously attacked and persecuted by both the Christian Church and the Roman state. Due to the heavy persecution upon its followers in the Roman Empire, the religion almost disappeared from western Europe in the 5th century and from the eastern portion of the empire in the sixth century.
In 732, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang banned any Chinese from converting to the religion, saying it was a heretic religion that was confusing people by claiming to be Buddhism. In 843, Emperor Wuzong of Tang gave the order to kill all Manichaean clerics as part of his Great Anti-Buddhist Persecution, and over half died. They were made to look like Buddhists by the authorities, their heads were shaved, they were made to dress like Buddhist monks and then killed.
Many Manichaeans took part in rebellions against the Song dynasty. They were quelled by Song China and were suppressed and persecuted by all successive governments before the Mongol Yuan dynasty. In 1370, the religion was banned through an edict of the Ming dynasty, whose Hongwu Emperor had a personal dislike for the religion.
Manicheans also suffered persecution for some time under the Abbasid Caliphate of Baghdad. In 780, the third Abbasid Caliph, al-Mahdi, started a campaign of inquisition against those who were "dualist heretics" or "Manichaeans" called the zindīq. He appointed a "master of the heretics" (Arabic: الزنادقة صاحب ṣāhib al-zanādiqa), an official whose task was to pursue and investigate suspected dualists, who were then examined by the Caliph. Those found guilty who refused to abjure their beliefs were executed. This persecution continued under his successor, Caliph al-Hadi, and continued for some time during reign of Harun al-Rashid, who finally abolished it and ended it.
Whether there can be love without attachment is a valid question, to which a Buddhist would answer in the affirmative. To explain how and why is perhaps better left to actual Buddhist teachers and not me.
To the question of how to deal with destructive forces, I would tend towards a "turn the other cheek" approach. The assumption is that all men are Good in essence, but are corrupted by their material existence. By giving the right example one may cause them to see the error of their ways. An "eye for an eye" or "fight fire with fire" approach are fundamentally flawed as solutions, though.
However, understanding attachment and the cause of suffering doesn't mean one may never act to preserve something, like in the act of self-defense. One would simply have to accept the suffering that may come along with such an act.
Lastly, I would disagree that loss or separation is the root cause of suffering, since without attachment there is no sense of loss or separation. — Tzeentch
So here Leo bases good and evil on happiness and suffering. He's actually a hedonist. — Banno
That's what counts as quality philosophical thinking now? — Banno
This thread ought be removed. — Banno
The political system, coupled with high initial inequality, gave the moneyed enough political influence to change laws to benefit themselves, further exacerbating inequality
Americans have been criminalizing psychoactive substances since San Francisco’s anti-opium law of 1875, but it was Ehrlichman’s boss, Richard Nixon, who declared the first “war on drugs” and set the country on the wildly punitive and counterproductive path it still pursues.
I started to ask Ehrlichman a series of earnest, wonky questions that he impatiently waved away. “You want to know what this was really all about?” he asked with the bluntness of a man who, after public disgrace and a stretch in federal prison, had little left to protect. “The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I’m saying? We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”
Nixon’s invention of the war on drugs as a political tool was cynical, but every president since — Democrat and Republican alike — has found it equally useful for one reason or another.
The desire for altered states of consciousness creates a market, and in suppressing that market we have created a class of genuine bad guys — pushers, gangbangers, smugglers, killers. Addiction is a hideous condition, but it’s rare. Most of what we hate and fear about drugs — the violence, the overdoses, the criminality — derives from prohibition, not drugs.
“if you fight a war for forty years and don’t win, you have to sit down and think about other things to do that might be more effective”
What exactly is our drug problem? It isn’t simply drug use. Lots of Americans drink, but relatively few become alcoholics. It’s hard to imagine people enjoying a little heroin now and then, or a hit of methamphetamine, without going off the deep end, but they do it all the time. The government’s own data, from the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, shatters the myth of “instantly addictive” drugs.
In other words, our real drug problem — debilitating addiction — is relatively small. Addiction is a chronic illness during which relapses or flare-ups can occur, as with diabetes, gout, and high blood pressure. And drug dependence can be as hard on friends and family as it is on the afflicted. But dealing with addiction shouldn’t require spending $40 billion a year on enforcement, incarcerating half a million, and quashing the civil liberties of everybody, whether drug user or not.
Attachment to material things, including people and indeed one's own life, is the source of most if not all of man's suffering. Since all that is material is fleeting, loss of these things is unavoidable, and attachment to these things is irrational. By attaching ourselves to things which one will unavoidably lose, one is setting themselves up to suffer. — Tzeentch
Not necessarily. Some methods of ‘stopping evil’ contribute greatly to suffering. War, for instance, does not ‘emit a good’. — Possibility
If you see a model M, then you can argue that they satisfy a theory T. Fine, but now you also see that there are facts in the model that cannot possibly be predicted by such T. That creates the situation that there are statements that are true in model M but not provable in theory T. According to model theory, this means that there must be at least one other model M' which also satisfies theory T but in which these facts are false. That is why these facts are true in M but not provable in T. — alcontali
We cannot create these other worlds. — alcontali
Well, in normal English, yes. In model theory, no. In model theory, a theory T is a set of rules, while a model M is a set of values, i.e. an "interpretation", that satisfy these rules.
The universe itself is not a set of rules. It is a set of values that satisfy the rules of the ToE. — alcontali
Every ontology that a social scientist adopts has an auto-referential import for the epistemic status of the impersonal knowing subject. More simply put, general ideas about the ordinary knowledgeability of social agents impinge back upon the one who offers these ideas – for that person is a socio-cultural agent as well. This means that, in the case of the philosophy of the human sciences, there is a need for metaphysical reflection which moves further than reflecting on an ontological scheme – that is, a need for reflection on the fact that the sociologist, as a knowing subject, is existentially related to her or his partial or greater object
One implication – and a useful example – of this problematic is that relativist theories, which deny or suspend the possibility of (fallible) reflection, face this auto-referential problem. As Lawson nicely puts it:
The denial of the possibility of knowledge may seem a wild and anarchistic claim, but it is at first sight intelligible and logically unremarkable. But matters cannot be left there. This denial involves a reflexive problem, which appears trivial but which cannot be eradicated with the ease that one might expect: if it is not possible to provide knowledge, then how are we to regard the text of the philosopher that asserts this very point? Since it is evidently paradoxical to claim to know that knowledge is not possible, philosophers who have wished to make this type of claim have usually engaged in the more wide-ranging attempt to alter the nature of their text in order to avoid a self-contradictory stance. (H. Lawson, 1985: 14)
Following the same line of thought, deterministic social ontologies, which deprive social individuals of their creative agency, are similarly problematic. For ‘just as the sceptic or relativist seems, in asserting his thesis, to be making the sort of knowledge claim his thesis excludes, so also the determinist is said to be doing something in asserting determinism which this very thesis excludes’ (Boyle, 1987: 193). And in attacking sociological relativism and social determinism, I intend to propose an epistemic criterion in response to this auto-referential problem of epistemic reflexivity.
Accordingly, for Lynch (2000), general philosophical and epistemological problems like the theory-ladenness of observation, the under-determination of theory choice by evidence, or the omnipresent problem of how descriptions correspond to their objects, are classic and important, but bear no special, either positive or negative, epistemic implications for specific local scientific engagement. For this reason, scientists should ignore this general and abstract philosophical problematic and focus on the specific issues arising from their particular research programs. For reflexivity cannot offer anything more than what every effort to attack objective truths offers, so there is no particular benefit to being radically reflexive unless something worthwhile emerges from it (Lynch, 2000: 42). Consequently, it is pointless to require that, every time a scientist makes a statement, he or she should list all the presuppositions and contingent conditions which influenced his or her research, thus pre-emptively replying to every possible imaginary critique regarding the uncertainty connected with these conditions. After all, ‘a project that deconstructs objective claims should be no more or less problematic, in principle, than the claims it seeks to deconstruct’ (ibid.).
Hence, for Lynch, the limit to the number of meta-theoretical ‘confessions’ necessary in order for one to be reflexive is social, and there is no single way of being reflexive.
Within this framework, Lynch suggests ‘an alternative, ethnomethodological conception of reflexivity that does not privilege a theoretical or methodological standpoint by contrasting it to an unreflexive counterpart’ (Lynch, 2000: 26), and which underlines the ordinary and uninteresting character of the constitutive reflexivity of accounts, that is, of the uninterested reflexive uses of ordinary language and common-sense knowledge. This constitutes a minimalistic attitude towards self-reflection, the ordinariness of which implies that its epistemic virtues are not certain and determinate. It is in this sense that Pollner complains that ‘from Lynch’s perspective, the analyst is deprived of any analytic vantage point. It is the move from referential to endogenous reflexivity’ (Pollner, 2012: 17).
Yet, in this article, I would like to argue against this minimal ethnomethodological form of self-reflection and thus claim that there are various forms and degrees of self-reflection, which are always relative to each specific society, group, class, etc. Indeed, Archer (2007: 49) is right that it is unintelligible to conceive of a society with such a level of socio-cultural cohesion that agents do not need to reflect on the content of action. And, indeed, this is somehow an ordinary socio-cultural phenomenon. However, Lynch (2000) does not leave theoretical space for such a variety of levels and degrees of self-reflection. Thus, what Lynch is implicitly against is the presupposition of the self-reflective knowing subject (reflecting on her or his own ontological presuppositions), which constitutes a sub-class of the general presupposition of the general, omnipresent and ordinary notion of self-reflective subjectivity.
Again, both ordinary self-reflection and its radical maximalistic version of the knowing subject should be distinguished from epistemic reflexivity, which is an auto-referential property of social ontological schemes.
Say that there is a Theory of Everything (ToE) and that this world is its model. — alcontali
A reconstruction of Keeley’s argument that we discussed in my Philosophy of Religion class is the following: — ModernPAS
An analogous argument can be made for the claim that religious belief is self-defeating: — ModernPAS
Focusing on the issue of falsifiability/unfalsifiability, we might conclude further that religion is a kind of conspiracy theory, perhaps the “ultimate” conspiracy theory: — ModernPAS
We have very different ideas about what evidence philosophy works with and our general view of the world.
Thanks for expressing yourself. — I like sushi
Randomness is what empowers the war between good and evil (ie: the potential for the devil to doubt God).
Laws are merely described ideas, and ideas certainly exist.
Destiny is at odds with randomness, but one who has power to maintain control even when circumstances are beyond their control, can manufacture destiny.
To say there is no death is to misuse language itself. Death describes the end of a period of life, and everything that can be observed as living, also can be observed as dying. — Serving Zion
Are you describing life after death? If so, can you show evidence to support this? — Serving Zion
For starters are Evil and Good similar? Do neither ‘feel’ or ‘want’? If not then they don’t appear to be completely related. — I like sushi
If they can be mistaken for each other how are we to know which is which? — I like sushi
I don’t think anecdotal evidence from singular individuals holds up well in a philosophical discussion - interesting, but not really convincing evidence. — I like sushi
Personally I don’t see how anyone can appreciate anything without suffering. If we don’t know how bad things can go then how do we protect against such things? Think of children. They are innocent and vulnerable because of this. — I like sushi
We also see left and right, hot and cold and numerous other flavoured antonyms (gradable, relational or complimentary). I am assuming you don’t consider them all aspects of Good and Evil — I like sushi
I see no evidence of Good or Evil up to anything anywhere else in the cosmos. — uncanni
The point is you’re talking in absolutes aren’t you? Some hypothetical ‘pure’ form. — I like sushi
If Evil wants to be Evil and Good stops it surely it suffers? — I like sushi
Is it possible for an Evil person to do something Good or is it the intention that matters more? — I like sushi
I disagree. If Evil wants Evil then Good must make Evil suffer, ergo the Good causes suffering and is therefore Evil by your definition. — I like sushi
So, in your view, what is evil? Where does it stem from? How is it different from Good? — Tzeentch
"If" can be a perfectly good place to start an argument, but at some point the 'if" has to be removed, else the whole edifice rests on it, and "Ifs" don't make good foundations. — tim wood
To hold that the good and the evil in some way exist - are real - apart from their instances, is the mistake of scholastic realism, supposing that universals are real existents. — tim wood