Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Philosophy's Only Problem
“Albert Camus once said that death was philosophy's only problem, and anyone who has watched a loved one die understands that philosophical problem well.” —Ravi Zacharias, Can Man Live Without God, p. 158.
Monday, August 25, 2003
Some years back, a pro-life (anti-abortion) group protested outside an abortion clinic in Eugene, OR. Passersby cursed and shook their fists at the protesters. One protester held a sign that read simply: "ABORTION: If it's not wrong, why are you angry." A man rode past on a bicycle, cursing and gesturing...but he stopped a block away. After five or ten minutes, he returned to the protesters and admitted that the one sign had arrested him. "You know," he said to the protester holding the sign, "You're right."
What did that sign mean, and what was going on in the biker's mind? I suppose the passersby were angry because the protesters were hindering women from exercising their right to an abortion. But how were they hindering anyone? Not physically. Anyone could have walked past the protesters into the clinic. Were the protesters hindering women seeking abortions by embarrassing them or making them feel guilty? Perhaps, but that probably explains the power of the sign. Who would feel guilty or embarrassed by crackpots protesting, say, eating peanut butter, or pulling teeth. And who would shake their fists and curse someone protesting the eating of peanut butter in front of a corner market?
My heart goes out to anyone who has had to struggle with abortion issues first-hand. No one who hasn't had an abortion can relate to the emotional and relational issues dealt with by someone who has. However, the issues are not going to go away in our culture. Abortion touches too directly on the question of who we really are as human beings.
What did that sign mean, and what was going on in the biker's mind? I suppose the passersby were angry because the protesters were hindering women from exercising their right to an abortion. But how were they hindering anyone? Not physically. Anyone could have walked past the protesters into the clinic. Were the protesters hindering women seeking abortions by embarrassing them or making them feel guilty? Perhaps, but that probably explains the power of the sign. Who would feel guilty or embarrassed by crackpots protesting, say, eating peanut butter, or pulling teeth. And who would shake their fists and curse someone protesting the eating of peanut butter in front of a corner market?
My heart goes out to anyone who has had to struggle with abortion issues first-hand. No one who hasn't had an abortion can relate to the emotional and relational issues dealt with by someone who has. However, the issues are not going to go away in our culture. Abortion touches too directly on the question of who we really are as human beings.
Thursday, August 21, 2003
The mind-body problem, so debated between reductionists and dualists, continues to intrigue me. As Jaegwon Kim asks in The Oxford Companion To Philosophy, "...how, and why, does conscious experience emerge out of the electrochemical processes occurring in a grey mass of neural fibres?"
Reductionists tell us that there is no such thing as an immaterial mind, but if thought is only another variation of stimulus and response, why do we think thoughts rather than just feel feelings? Okay, human language seems to provide form for some feelings, clothing them as thoughts. From a physical stimulus in my stomach, I can imagine that a physical feeling might somehow get itself wrapped in language to appear as the thought, "Arrgh, me hungry; go now to fine restaurant." But how do higher thoughts, scientific, philosophical or artistic spring fully formed into one's mind without any preceding physical feeling? How does the brain (of reductionism) decide to think a thought in the absence of physical stimuli?
And if mind and thought really are only the response to physical and chemical stimuli, why should you care about my opinions any more than you care about how your dog barks when you kick it?
Reductionists tell us that there is no such thing as an immaterial mind, but if thought is only another variation of stimulus and response, why do we think thoughts rather than just feel feelings? Okay, human language seems to provide form for some feelings, clothing them as thoughts. From a physical stimulus in my stomach, I can imagine that a physical feeling might somehow get itself wrapped in language to appear as the thought, "Arrgh, me hungry; go now to fine restaurant." But how do higher thoughts, scientific, philosophical or artistic spring fully formed into one's mind without any preceding physical feeling? How does the brain (of reductionism) decide to think a thought in the absence of physical stimuli?
And if mind and thought really are only the response to physical and chemical stimuli, why should you care about my opinions any more than you care about how your dog barks when you kick it?
Thursday, August 07, 2003
My friend from Iraq, who holds a PhD in architecture, is preparing to return from America to his homeland. For him, the fall of Saddam's regime is a dream come true. He hopes the US stays in Iraq for a long time (a different Iraqi perspective than that emphasized in our American media).
I asked him how Saddam and Saddam’s sons had become so profoundly evil, in contrast to the general Iraqi population. His response: a polluted blood line. Hmmm.
I asked him how Saddam and Saddam’s sons had become so profoundly evil, in contrast to the general Iraqi population. His response: a polluted blood line. Hmmm.
