I agree with this, but it’s missing my point somewhat. I’m wanting to know how you justify that there is only one absolutely correct answer in any given circumstance. There always appears to be more than one acceptable answer, but you seem to try to claim that out of all the acceptable answers, there is one that is clearly better than all the others. I guess something like “limited relativity” is more in line with what I meant. — Pinprick
Such "limited relativity" is just universality plus uncertainty (which is what I'm advocating). It accepts that everything is either permissible or impermissible in an objective/universal sense, and among the permissible things, it's possible for one to be objectively/universally better than another even though both are permissible, and when that is the case it's still possible that we may have no idea (and practically speaking very little hope of determining) which is better than the other even though one is.
But what is the criteria you use to determine which answer out the the acceptable ones is best? Assuming listening to music and exercising both relieve my anger equally, what could there possibly be to make one of these options better than the other? — Pinprick
All of the innumerable consequences that come from doing one vs the other, that practically speaking you'll probably never know or care to know about.
The point of liber(al|tarian)ism, like falsificationism, is to stop from focusing on pinning down one exactly correct solution, since we'll never get to there, and instead just focus on staying within (and narrowing down) the range of permissible/possible (respectively) solutions.
I take a materialist view because that's all I can speak intelligibly about, and in those terms - existence is a pre-requisite to everything else. The continued survival of the human species is what makes anything else matter. — counterpunch
Sure, and I agree, but my point is that in defending that view you're already doing philosophy. Philosophical issues like what is a good end to strive for are logically prior to issues about practical means to particular ends.
I thought that's what you were doing; I don't remember why I thought that. My objection is that science is not phenomenalism - because phenomenalism is subjectivism, and science is objectivism. Science assumes that objects exist independently of our experience of them. Phenomenalism does not. — counterpunch
Distinguishing different kinds of "objectivism" and "subjectivism" is what I was doing, and that's what you seem to not be doing here. The point is that "objects exist independently of our experience of them" can mean (at least) two different things:
- There is something about those objects that transcends experience, such that nobody could ever tell from empirical observation whether those aspects or qualities or whatever of the object were there or not. This is "objectivism as in transcendentalism", which I'm against. (Phenomenalism is its negation, saying that there is nothing about the objects besides the observable properties of them, which is also the position that science takes.)
or
- The existence of those objects is not just relative to any particular person experiencing them at a particular time, but continues as the potential to be experienced even when not actively being experienced. This is "objectivism as in universalism", which I am for. (Relativism is its negation, saying that the objects are only real to those who are actively observing them, and science of course generally takes a position against that).
How so? I think you're conflating senses here. — counterpunch
I'm doing the opposite of that, I'm de-conflating senses that it seems you are conflating. See above for the two senses of "objective" I'm differentiating from each other. Their negations in turn are the two senses of "subjective" I'm differentiating from each other. You can have one without the other: universalism doesn't require transcendentalism, so phenomenalism in turn doesn't require relativism. You can have a universalist phenomenalism, which is what science generally assumes: an empirical realism, where there is a reality independent of it being actively observed, but in no part beyond the potential for observation.
No. Take light - and the famous experiment by Newton with a prism. I'm sure you've heard of it. If science were subjective, it would be satisfied that light is white - but instead, Newton uses a device to begin to break down the electromagnetic spectrum, much of which is not apparent to the senses at all. — counterpunch
And we learn about that by observing the output of the device with our senses. That's like "seeing the wind" (which is invisible) by its effects on the motion of leaves in the trees. That's indirect observation, which is still observation, and so still "subjective" in a sense that doesn't mean "relative" but just "phenomenal".
I've no qualm with this as an aim, but you used the word 'should'. What do you think 'should' means here? — Isaac
I take all moral language, including my use of it there, to be essentially exhortative in function, so in saying that that kind of state of affairs 'should' be, I'm saying something to the effect of "let it be the case that [that state of affairs]".
It can't mean 'it would be morally right too...' because what is morally right is what you're trying to establish, so an argument assuming it would be begging the question. — Isaac
In that case I was just clarifying what it is that I take a morally right state of affairs to be, which is to say, what state of affairs I would exhort to be. I was not just then
arguing that it should be, just clarifying the conclusion of my argument.
What is the normative force of the above argument - we certainly could think of 'morally right' as being synonymous with matching the world to it's current and future population's appetites... but why should we? — Isaac
Because that view is essentially composed of the negation of two positions (as discussed further below), and assuming either of those two positions would leave us operating under assumptions that would render us unable to conduct a rational investigation of what ought to be.
On the one hand, the position that what is good or bad can be wholly unrelated to what what feels good or bad in our experiences would leave us stuck having to just take someone's word on it, leaving nothing to do but pick for no rational reason whose word to take without possibility of question.
On the other hand, the position that what actually is good or bad can differ between different parties just because those parties differ in their opinions obviously leaves no room for rational reconciliation because all you'd have to appeal to is your own opinion and the other guys already disagree with that so that gets you nowhere.
So if we hope to have any rational discourse about what ought to be, we have to assume the negations of those both (and at this point in our reasoning, assuming one way or the other is all we can do, because we haven't even established grounds for justification yet).
Reconciling the negations of those both, figuring out some way of having a universal morality nevertheless grounded in phenomenal (hedonic) experience, in turn requires differentiating appetites from desires, because of the obvious impossibility of reconciling conflicting desires without a deeper concept like appetites to turn to.
We could instead see that consequent suffering as the problem, that's the point I was making (as you later allude to). So normalcy does have something to do with it, it's partly how we choose which suffering to treat. — Isaac
I don't follow the connection between these two sentences. I agree completely with the first one: the reason why drug addiction, overeating disorders, etc, are problematic is because they cause later suffering, and we don't currently have the ability to prevent that consequent suffering, so we can only treat the behavior that causes it, even though that behavior is in the pursuit of enjoyment, as behavior should be.
If it were possible to avoid that consequent suffering, or if there just wasn't consequent suffering at all, then those behaviors being unusual (abnormal) wouldn't be any reason for concern.
It's like homosexuality no longer being classified as a mental disorder: it is unusual (statistically speaking), but harmless, so it's rightly no longer considered a problem. Or, I don't know if anything like "sexual promiscuity" was ever considered a mental health problem per se, but it's certainly been socially condemned, and for much of human history that may have been for good reason (there is plenty of suffering it could cause), but nowadays with birth control and disease prevention and treatment technologies, it's possible to be sexually promiscuous while avoiding the consequent suffering, which makes it no longer anything to condemn.
Not really. It depends how you define 'enjoyment'. Both neurologically and phenomenologically, maximum enjoyment is not obtained by getting things you want. Gamblers aren't addicted to the payoff, they're addicted to the chance of a payoff. Even in mice, maximum dopamine response is achieved at the anticipation of a reward (of which there's a just above 50% chance of achieving), not the reward, or even the certainty of it. The human brain is extremely complex and this disneyfied 'eliminate the bad things and make all the good things' version of the way the world should be may well not match the actual neurological mechanisms behind our subjective judgements of state.
To take the example above, the theory is that this particular dopamine system is evolved to sustain striving, to reward risk-taking (in a limited fashion). — Isaac
I was actually alluding to a phenomenological take on this very thing when I said that. Just not having any appetites for anything, not caring about anything, is not, phenomenologically, a very enjoyable state to be in. It's basically depression, speaking from experience as someone clinically diagnosed with that. It doesn't feel good to not want and not care about anything. In contrast it feels good to want things, to strive for them, to work up an appetite for a good meal, to look forward to an adventure, or a piece of entertainment, or to your favorite hobby, to get horny and want to fuck your significant other, etc.
But then if you are denied those things you were longing for, it feels bad. You could avoid that bad feeling by not wanting them... but while that's often better than the disappointment, it's still not great. What feels best is to want for things... and then to get them. And then to keep wanting for things, and keep getting them, and keep that feeling of striving and winning and moving forward and making progress going.
Then you keep coming back to "my ethics ... is more useful for resolving ethical dilemmas". It's not. We've just established that. It provides nothing whatsoever by way of guidance in the resolution of such ethical dilemmas. Don't be a psychopath, and don't be a religious fanatic are the only positions your ethical system advises. Everything in between is arguable on the basis of being some form of matching world to appetites. — Isaac
Not being a psychopath or religious fanatic
is more useful for resolving ethical dilemmas than being either of those, I think you will agree.
But that aside, you're missing part of the very thing you quoted to respond to with this. The "don't be a relativist or transcendentalist" thing is just the first layer of my ethical system. That's my "moral ontology". There's another layer, my "moral epistemology". And then a political philosophy modeled after the usual (ideal) practices of modern academia, what you might call a "moral peer review". But all these things build on top of each other, and whenever I try to work toward laying them out I can't get past the first part with you, the part about agreeing on the investigation into a morality that is both universal and phenomenalist, an altruistic hedonism. None of the rest of it is applicable if we can't even agree on that. But there
is a "rest of it", I just never get to move on to that because you get all hung up on disputing the basic groundwork.
I'm not sure what's given you that impression, but that's not my meta-ethical position. — Isaac
That's the negation of my principle of objectivism/universalism, and you keep objecting to that principle, which makes it sound like you favor its negation.