I'm suggesting that being civilized or sane means that lots of issues are and must be 'dead' for us. They are 'irrationally' foreclosed. We inherit certain norms of decency and intelligibility that make discussing norms possible in the first place. In simpler terms I'm suggesting that open-minded-ness has its limits. To be sane is to be deaf and blind in a good way. — jjAmEs
I disagree. I do think that to make productive headway in conversation, some topics need to be closed off, but those topics that need to be closed off should be closed off for good reasons, not irrationally; the reasons to close off those topics should be readily apparent the more "indecent" or "insane" such topics of conversation are; and the "insanity" or "indecency" of people who insist on trying to force the conversation there anyway lies in their inability to understand the obvious good reasons not to go there as readily as other people do.
Really, much of my whole philosophical project consists of giving the reasons to foreclose certain large swaths of clearly unworkable ways to investigate things, showing how a bunch of different ways of trying to investigate things boil down to those two clearly unworkable ways and so should be foreclosed along with them, showing how a bunch of proposed answers to various philosophical questions are tantamount those those ways of trying to investigate things, showing what's still left after all of that has been foreclosed, and then letting the sciences take it from there, using those not-insane-or-indecent approaches still left to do the actual hard work of figuring things out.
But surely you see how convenient that is. Why is there something rather than nothing? Why is all of this...here? What I have in mind is (for instance) presented in Sartre's Nausea. If the big questions are excluded as meaningless, isn't that a little fishy? — jjAmEs
I think some of those kinds of questions have answers, though the answers are usually as trivial as the questions themselves. It reminds me of a joke I modified decades ago. "What is the answer to this question?" someone asked me, and supposedly their 'correct' answer was that "What" is the answer to that question; but I say instead, "This is the answer to that question." The moral of the story is: Ask an empty question, get an empty answer.
That's the big objection. But the little objection would be questions that seem answerable in principle for which we don't have answers. How can humans achieve immortality? What social order maximizes happiness? — jjAmEs
I say that the role of philosophy in those kinds of questions is to show the means to answering them, not to answer them itself. Those are contingent questions that must be answered with a posteriori investigation. Philosophy's only job there is to clarify how to conduct such an investigation.
I guess it would still be nice to have the discipline to type up a system, but it's hard enough to find people who care about the famous books that already do that, let alone my necessarily repetitive contribution — jjAmEs
I know that feeling. I'm still not completely sure why I bothered writing a philosophy book. Mostly, it seems, because there wasn't already such a book out there. I studied philosophy and jumped from one school of thought to another trying to figure out what to call myself, but none of them fit completely; like pants that are either long enough but not wide enough, or wide enough but too short, or where somehow one leg fits right but not the other or vice versa.
So I guess I thought, "I'm going to make some philoso-pants that fit people like me". Sure, it's just pants that are the same length in both legs as this pair are in one leg, and the same width in both legs as that other pair are in the opposite leg, so I'm just stitching together aspects of pairs of pants that already exist, but on the whole I've not found any pair that fits right in every way, so I thought I should make some.
But now that I have, it seems, most people like their skinny jeans or their high-waters or their weird lopsided pants that are too tight on one side and too short on the other or vice-versa, and nobody wants my pants... or I don't know how to let the people who would want them know that they exist now.
I say embed philosophy within a narrative — jjAmEs
I liked that idea so much it was the original plan for my philosophy book. You can still read
the old, incomplete work-in-progress version of that if you want. It had five characters, two representing the skinny jeans and high-waters, two representing the lop-sided pants, and each of them a kind of contemporary social archetype (the religious preppy, the gothpunk nihilist, the hippie "social justice warrior", the nerdy "silicon valley libertarian"), except the fifth who was to be my author-avatar. It's a story about us going to see a fictional movie-within-the-story that prompts a philosophical dialogue as we dine and walk around the neighborhood surrounding the theater nearest my old university.
But I realized after a decade of writer's block and then a year of trying to write fiction (that turned into just
a 60,000-word outline) that I absolutely suck at writing dialogue, and would make more progress if I just described my views and those I'm against in my own natural voice.
I have vague dreams of maybe meeting someone, or several someones, who agree with the overall aim of my project, who might like to collaboratively work on turning it into a narrative again, someday. But I have no idea how to go about that.
Don't you feel forced to compromise or self-censor?Isn't one constrained to keep it all a little dry and vague in that situation? — jjAmEs
Not at all, really. I was having passionate arguments on the internet in the days before pseudonymity was a widespread norm, so it was all under my real name, and back when I was a teenage no less. UseNet archives and what remains of old mid-90s early web forums are full of records of my views from the time, and it's never hurt me. I think that some of it is because the controversial views are so nuanced and buried so deep among other nuanced views that they're not smacking anybody in the face; I'm an anarcho-socialist for example, and argue for that in my book, but nobody who stumbled across my website is going to come away with that as their first impression, and probably nobody is going to read over 60 thousand words deep into the work to get the the chapter where I talk about that.