Interesting, I didn't totally catch that the first time.
To modify Hamlet a bit, "there is nothing true or false, thinking makes it so."
Well, I see nothing necessarily objectionable there. What could it mean for something to be true if falsity is not a possibility? But it also seems that states of affairs must
precede knowledge of them. If I am to know I am mad, I have to be mad; if we are to discover a new superconductor, it needs to be able to act as a superconductor.
But notice that my reply deconstructs your Cartesian metaphysical assumptions
I'm not sure what's supposed to be Cartesian here? The idea that a rock and knowledge of "the rock" are not the same thing doesn't seem to necessitate anything like the mind/body dualism Descartes is most famous for. I was thinking in terms of the simple observation that our view of things depends on our perspective and that multiple subjects can have different experiences of what is, in some respect, the same thing.
So, we might say the truth of a thing is the whole, the grand total of all observations of it, all relations that obtain relevant to that thing. This doesn't require dualism, but rather
precludes dualism. The unified whole is the truth, the partial revisions of the subject merely a
part of the truth. The truth is the whole process, not any one "moment" of the process, e.g. my current conception of the truth of x at time t.
Rather than thinking these notions in terms of correspondence between subject and independently real objects, it defines the truth and the real on the basis of the ongoing success of our construals of the world in making sense of, predicting and ordering, in a harmonious and coherent way, the continually changing nature of the flow of new experience.
I'm with you on truth here, in that it is processed, but on the real? I'm not sure.
How do you deal with disagreements? When people first began to argue over whether or not the Earth revolves around the Sun or vice versa, surely there was, in some sense, a relationship between the two (Sun and Earth) that obtained before anyone was satisfied with their understanding of the matter? States of affairs aren't true or false, but we can later formulate descriptions of them that can be true or false.
If we were all solipsists, and did not believe in the truth of any experiences save our own, it seems there must still be a "truth of the matter." Either others would have experiences, and each solipsist would be wrong, or only one individual would have experiences, and that individual would be correct. Otherwise, it seems like there would be as many worlds as there are observers, and I'm not sure how such discrete worlds would come to be
unified when one observer comes to "know" or believe that another's experience
truly exist.
Maybe I'm misunderstanding something here, but it seems to go beyond dualism into a voluminous
plural[l]ism. And yet, if each world exists, and they interact, then they are actually part of a whole.
Bedrock isn’t defined by what is independently ‘real’ in itself, apart from us, but by what makes sense to us in as harmonious a way as possible relative to our ways of construing the world. This bedrock of anticipatory understanding is an endless struggle, because the goal is nether out there in the world nor inside of us, but in the reciprocally re-adjusting coordination between the two.
How does this avoid the problem of multiple, sometimes contradictory truths? Or does it?
On the other hand, we generally settle for whatever guide for proceeding through life allows us to make sense of it in an open-endedly harmonious and robustly flexible way. And why shouldn’t we, since a flexible approach is a creative approach that has built into it the continual possibilities of self-reinvention?
Sure. But a partial and powerful motivator for the social endeavour that is "the search for truth," (science, philosophy, etc.) is that knowledge allows for causal mastery. And even though the correspondence idea of truth is in some ways deeply flawed (is science really a search for "truth?"), here it shows its pragmatic merit. The quest for the "true description," is tied up in the fact that knowing such a description shows you how you can edit it, the leverage points that exist for enacting an individual or collective will. I think this is sort of what your were getting at too.
Correspondence gets on well enough popularly because it does describe something deep about the world, that there is a difference between what we accept as true about the world and how the world reacts. But it's an incomplete description.
The reason most choose to wake up is that they buy into the matrix metaphysics of a Cartesian ‘real’ world. If reality is assumed to be some independent thing in itself, then surely our ‘simulated’ happiness is a cheap knock-off of the real thing, depriving us of a richer, deeper, more meaningful quality of experience. This is how most of is were taught to think about the real and the true. It doesn’t occur to us that experience is neither invented (simulation) nor discovered (empirically true reality), it an inextricable dance between the two.
I don't think the primary motivation has to do with "happiness," per say. The whole premise of the Experience Machine is the it will make you happy, and yet people turn it down. I suspect that people are skeptical of the Machine because it means being heavily determined by that which lies outside us. It lies outside us and we have no way to learn about it.
It's a lack of freedom then, not a lack of pleasure or happiness.
The fear is that, if the Machine is always working to guide us towards a happy state, towards pleasure, we won't develop or transcend. We cannot go past ourselves because the machine is posterior to our experiences.
But the sort of constant questioning you describe is what people want. I don't think it can be reduced to another desire in a straightforward way though. To question is to be going beyond what one already is, to go beyond current beliefs and desires, to transcend the current limits of the self.
In "The Dark Night of the Soul," Saint John of the Cross describes a period of purgation, where the senses are dulled and nothing brings joy to the soul. Event spiritual pursuits and contemplation no longer bring joy. Desire dies, sensuousness becomes muted. He describes it an an extreme "aridity."
This is an emptying, a letting go of all desire, and a letting goal of all concrete attachment to the sensuous world in preparation for the beatific vision, which is not one of pleasure, but of total oneness with all, through the One who is all.
That his work became a classic, and that similar guides are so popular among Sufis, in Zen, etc. bespeaks to me a sort of yearning for going beyond all desire, its own sort of desire, but a self-annihilating one. The machine is offensive to this drive because it seems to set limits on transcendence.
But I suspect some mystics might actually take the machine. If your life in the machine gives you more space for preparation, it can't hurt. It too can be transcended.