One thing I have been thinking about recently is when and why people start to appear in dreams, and also when they disappear from them. This morning I had my first dream (at least that I can recall, I suppose) where my baby Liam was conceptually and visually in it. Liam, as of yesterday, is 5 months old. Before then, I had talked with my wife Lindsay on how I hadn't had a dream with him in it yet; Lindsay hadn't either. We talked about how even with each other, we didn't have dreams of the other person until in our marriages, although we had dated for 11-12 months before marrying. It has got me thinking about what tends to hold for a person to appear in our "dream space." I remember that I use to dream of high school friends, and still do of some of them from time to time, but the majority of them no longer come into my dreams. This is certainly the case of middle school or very young childhood friends. I haven't dreamed of my grandmother who passed away almost 4 years ago in a very long time.
What is it that qualifies one to be a character in one's dream space? Is it that they have a certain enough "reality" in one's mind, or that they are an important enough figure in one's life? There may be something to this, but I have had many dreams in the past couple of years where the characters in the dreams have no resemblance to anyone I am close to. It is possible they were pulled from someone I glanced at in passing, or it possible I simply conjured their looks up, them having no correspond figure in the waking world. If the former, it is not the intensity of familiarity that draws a person into the dream space. Though perhaps the intensity affects the probability of appearing in the space. After all, I cannot say that I have recognized a person that was not in the waking world as reappearing in another dream. However, Lindsay, my parents and many friends have been recurring characters in my dreams. What makes them more recurring? The familiarity/intimacy with these people? Often people point to dream symbolism, and here they might suggest that one associates that person more with a certain thing about life. I think we tend to over-symbolize the dreams, since many of my dreams are also straight-forward narratives. There are no "caged eagles," suggesting my lack of freedom, for instance. Anyway, thinking about the appearance of Liam in my dreams has been a source of amusement. Have any of you thought about this?
A place for friends to share their thoughts about philosophy, art, literature, science, theology, and culture.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
William James: "What the Will Effects" Part 1
Summary: James begins his article by asserting that all animal activity belongs to reflex action; consciousness is simply an adjustment to the environment. Some reactions to the environment are voluntary and others are not. Surprisingly, James argues that the voluntary actions are derived from the involuntary. With involuntary action, the action is not mentally seen or understood until afterwards. In voluntary action properly called, the act is foreseen, the idea preceding its execution. Hence, no action can be voluntary the first time it is performed. Until we have done it, we have no idea of what sort of a thing it is like, and do not know in what direction to set our will to bring it about. We could not picture it, and one cannot will into the void. Once we get a sense for the feeling and what needs to be done, then we can train our voluntary power. Voluntary action is thus a secondary action, not of a primary sort. The consequence is that a creature with no memory can have no will, and that volitional utterances are built out of the automatic. James specifies that he does not mean a man cannot commit a murder voluntarily until he commits one involuntarily. Murder is a complex combination of movements, including crouching, springing, stabbing and the like. These elementary movements cannot voluntarily be performed unless already involuntarily performed.
Psychology’s second point is that our will needs nothing else but a recollection of how movements feel to execute its desires. They are sufficient conditions. All of us experience ideomotor actions. For example, while having a conversation we might become conscious of a pen on the floor, or of some dust on the sleeve. Without interrupting the conversation we brush away the dust or pick up the pen. No express resolve is made; the perception of the object and the fleeting notion of the act seem to bring the action about. James includes amongst these acts snacking on nuts when one is no longer hungry and they meet no express contradiction in the mind (if nothing stops it from having its way). With such actions, no separate fiat of the will is required. James generalizes his claim: anywhere and everywhere the sole known cause for the execution of a movement is the bare idea of the movement’s execution, and that if the idea occurs in a mind empty of other leading ideas, an attempted movement will fatally and infallibly take place. James suggests this is why the hypnotic subject passively acts out nearly every suggestion his operator makes. When ideas harmonize they reinforce a movement, but when they conflict, they block the path of its discharge and inhibit its motor efficacy. James urges that all our thoughts correspond to processes in the cerebral hemispheres. We know that certain thoughts conflict with others and that certain acts are only possible so long as objections to them do not arise. In fact, James thinks that most of our activity is not best described by a creative architectural volition, but by a nodding consent. Most of the time (James gives an arbitrary 75%) our conduct consists in taking off the brakes, and letting ideas and impulses have their way. Volition would in these cases lie in refusing consent. This refusal need not always be energetic either. Either consent or inhibition may require energy, but not as much as we think.
The ideas that most inhibit muscular activity, keep us quiet, are those of pains and pleasures. Think of the paralyzing effects of the bed’s warmth and of the cold in the room when you awaken. Pains and pleasures most urge us to action or to avoid an action. However, James denies psychological egoism: he declares it is absolutely false that pain and pleasure are the only possible or rational inciters to voluntary action. We can act from abstract goods and duties. Thus pleasure/pain regulates, but need not operate; steers, but need not propel. James believes experience alone can decide which ideas have power, and innumerable objects stimulate us. Ninety‐nine times out of a hundred we no more act for the pleasure connected with the action, than we do for the pleasure of the frowning, or blush for the pleasure of the blush. Often blind reactive impulses are there. A drunkard cannot often tell why so often falls prey to temptation. His nerve‐centers are unlocked by every passing conception of a bottle and a glass. He does not thirst for the beverage; the taste of it may even appear repugnant; and he perfectly foresees the morrow’s remorse. But when he thinks of or sees liquor, he finds himself preparing to drink and does not stop himself; more than this he cannot say. James summarizes his thoughts: We are mobile organisms placed in environments full of things that pull and clamp the triggers of our muscular machinery in various pre‐appointed ways. This is the involuntary life. But these involuntary actions form likenesses in images and pleasure‐pain consequences (amongst others). These images in turn incite to new discharges and reinforce and inhibit each other like the originals. This is the volitional life of consent.
Psychology’s second point is that our will needs nothing else but a recollection of how movements feel to execute its desires. They are sufficient conditions. All of us experience ideomotor actions. For example, while having a conversation we might become conscious of a pen on the floor, or of some dust on the sleeve. Without interrupting the conversation we brush away the dust or pick up the pen. No express resolve is made; the perception of the object and the fleeting notion of the act seem to bring the action about. James includes amongst these acts snacking on nuts when one is no longer hungry and they meet no express contradiction in the mind (if nothing stops it from having its way). With such actions, no separate fiat of the will is required. James generalizes his claim: anywhere and everywhere the sole known cause for the execution of a movement is the bare idea of the movement’s execution, and that if the idea occurs in a mind empty of other leading ideas, an attempted movement will fatally and infallibly take place. James suggests this is why the hypnotic subject passively acts out nearly every suggestion his operator makes. When ideas harmonize they reinforce a movement, but when they conflict, they block the path of its discharge and inhibit its motor efficacy. James urges that all our thoughts correspond to processes in the cerebral hemispheres. We know that certain thoughts conflict with others and that certain acts are only possible so long as objections to them do not arise. In fact, James thinks that most of our activity is not best described by a creative architectural volition, but by a nodding consent. Most of the time (James gives an arbitrary 75%) our conduct consists in taking off the brakes, and letting ideas and impulses have their way. Volition would in these cases lie in refusing consent. This refusal need not always be energetic either. Either consent or inhibition may require energy, but not as much as we think.
The ideas that most inhibit muscular activity, keep us quiet, are those of pains and pleasures. Think of the paralyzing effects of the bed’s warmth and of the cold in the room when you awaken. Pains and pleasures most urge us to action or to avoid an action. However, James denies psychological egoism: he declares it is absolutely false that pain and pleasure are the only possible or rational inciters to voluntary action. We can act from abstract goods and duties. Thus pleasure/pain regulates, but need not operate; steers, but need not propel. James believes experience alone can decide which ideas have power, and innumerable objects stimulate us. Ninety‐nine times out of a hundred we no more act for the pleasure connected with the action, than we do for the pleasure of the frowning, or blush for the pleasure of the blush. Often blind reactive impulses are there. A drunkard cannot often tell why so often falls prey to temptation. His nerve‐centers are unlocked by every passing conception of a bottle and a glass. He does not thirst for the beverage; the taste of it may even appear repugnant; and he perfectly foresees the morrow’s remorse. But when he thinks of or sees liquor, he finds himself preparing to drink and does not stop himself; more than this he cannot say. James summarizes his thoughts: We are mobile organisms placed in environments full of things that pull and clamp the triggers of our muscular machinery in various pre‐appointed ways. This is the involuntary life. But these involuntary actions form likenesses in images and pleasure‐pain consequences (amongst others). These images in turn incite to new discharges and reinforce and inhibit each other like the originals. This is the volitional life of consent.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Bertrand Russell: Problems of Philosophy Chapter 3 The Nature of Matter
Summary: Believing that he has shown that accepting a world with mind-independent objects is more rational, Russell next considers the nature of these objects. He explains how the science of his day has reduced objects to their motions and positions in space. Scientists admit that the objects may have other properties, but do not require them to explain natural phenomena. However, scientific explanations do not explain our sensations: light is what we immediately see, not a form of wave-motion, even if the sense-data is caused by wave-motion. Thus, a blind man could understand the scientific assertion, but not understand the sensation of light. The sensations of color, sounds, and even our experience of space emerging from sense-data, are absent from scientific discourse. The coin that appears to be oval, but we judge to be intrinsically circular, is so in an idealized space. Hence, science/math's idealized "real space" is public, and apparent space is private. But how are these spaces connected? Russell summarizes the prior conclusion that our sensation of sense-data is caused by matter, independently-existing stuff. If this is the case, Russell believes this presupposes a physical space in which these objects and our bodies are contained where one can pass on sense-data to the other. Sensation of sense data occurs when persons are in contact with a given object (say, an apple) via close bodily proximity, and no other impeding objects (closed cupboard doors) are in the way. Variation occurs through the relative positioning of the body and other objects in science's physical space, and this is borne out well in our private experience. While different spaces emerge in sight, touch, and so forth, we learn to group them together since they bear a similar testament. Russell gives this example: if one sees a house that looks nearer to oneself than another, our kinaesthetic experience confirms this by it taking shorter to reach the house that appeared visually closer. These spaces interlace because there is an actual physical space.
But while private spaces testifies of the real space, we cannot know much about the real space. Russell asserts that we can know only what is required to secure correspondence betwen the private and physical spaces; we don't know anything about the physical space as it is in itself. What this boils down to is us only knowing the "properties of the relations" necessary for holding correspondence. We reason towards the real objects from the sense data, not through the sense-data (studying observations versus the observing). So we can know that during an eclipse, the earth, moon and sun are in one straight line, but not know what a real "straight line" is. We lack the immediate acquaintance with the real "straight line" that we have with a line drawn by a ruler in our private space. Our feeling of duration is often disparate with "clock time" depending on our mental states and activities, so that our experience of time is private, although we recognize there is also a physical time. Despite how long I perceived the basketball game as being, I understand that the tipoff occurred before the end game buzzer. This order of before and after that things appear to have seems to correspond to real time order. It is not the case that the real objects have the same time-order as the sense-data constituting the perception of those objects. Really speaking, thunder and lightning occur at the same time, although I hear the thunder later than its occurrence. Russell also notes the delay in observing star light. Turning to everyday objects, Russell gives more examples of us understanding relational differences in the "real world," due to differences in the apparent one. When 2 objects give visual sense-data of different colors, we reason that there must be something different about the real objects, even though we are not immediately aware of the quality in the real object making it have a specific color. We might naturally assume that the real object has a color (some intermediate color between the various shades appearing at different times and to different people) and if lucky we will catch a glimpse of it. But Russell thinks that this naivity is groundless as we consider the influence of light waves, air, our own eyes; we discover that color is the result of the travel of the ray reaching the eye, not originating in the object itself. Given that a natural assumption about objects' color is wrong, we might wonder if there is any philosophical argument (form/method of reasoning) that can show us if matter is real, it must have a certain nature, so that a more prolonged investigation is unnecessary.
But while private spaces testifies of the real space, we cannot know much about the real space. Russell asserts that we can know only what is required to secure correspondence betwen the private and physical spaces; we don't know anything about the physical space as it is in itself. What this boils down to is us only knowing the "properties of the relations" necessary for holding correspondence. We reason towards the real objects from the sense data, not through the sense-data (studying observations versus the observing). So we can know that during an eclipse, the earth, moon and sun are in one straight line, but not know what a real "straight line" is. We lack the immediate acquaintance with the real "straight line" that we have with a line drawn by a ruler in our private space. Our feeling of duration is often disparate with "clock time" depending on our mental states and activities, so that our experience of time is private, although we recognize there is also a physical time. Despite how long I perceived the basketball game as being, I understand that the tipoff occurred before the end game buzzer. This order of before and after that things appear to have seems to correspond to real time order. It is not the case that the real objects have the same time-order as the sense-data constituting the perception of those objects. Really speaking, thunder and lightning occur at the same time, although I hear the thunder later than its occurrence. Russell also notes the delay in observing star light. Turning to everyday objects, Russell gives more examples of us understanding relational differences in the "real world," due to differences in the apparent one. When 2 objects give visual sense-data of different colors, we reason that there must be something different about the real objects, even though we are not immediately aware of the quality in the real object making it have a specific color. We might naturally assume that the real object has a color (some intermediate color between the various shades appearing at different times and to different people) and if lucky we will catch a glimpse of it. But Russell thinks that this naivity is groundless as we consider the influence of light waves, air, our own eyes; we discover that color is the result of the travel of the ray reaching the eye, not originating in the object itself. Given that a natural assumption about objects' color is wrong, we might wonder if there is any philosophical argument (form/method of reasoning) that can show us if matter is real, it must have a certain nature, so that a more prolonged investigation is unnecessary.
I'm bad at finishing stuff
I recently decided that I need to make a shift in my approach to creativity. I wanted to be prolific, which was something I've never been in my life. I decided that this was something that could be learned, so I started a project. The idea is that I would create something everyday, and post it to a blog dedicated to the project, and do this for 100 days. I made no restrictions on what the something was, be it a song, drawing, short story, rant, or philosophical treatise. I got off to a good start, but I've gotten behind. I've crashed headlong into the reason I started this project to begin with. I'm bad at doing things consistently.
Even as I've forced myself to learn to be creative on command at work, I've somehow failed to learn the same thing in my personal creative life. Part of this, at least, is a "path of least resistance" problem. It's much easier for me to lapse into the consumption of creative work (e.g. playing a video game or reading a book) than to create. I value those activities, as I love to have my imagination and emotions fired by the creative works of others, but we can't allow something good to rob us of something great.
Another problem may be that I seem to be slightly defiant most of the time, even to myself. As soon as a yoke of any kind is placed on my shoulders (even a self-imposed one!), I immediately want to do something else. This has been a recurring problem throughout my life. I can't fully explain its genesis, either. I especially don't understand why I resist even my own projects and goals. It's really self-destructive and I have no explanation.
Finally, something of Søren Kierkegaard's "despair of the infinite" rings in my ears. I sit down, knowing that I can do anything I want, and end up doing nothing. Sometimes, I don't even do anything else (like watch TV or play a game). I just sit there, overcome with the infinite possibilities, and end up doing nothing. It's really silly.
Anyway, I'm really just complaining to all of you. Any tips or suggestions?
Thursday, January 12, 2012
SWTOR: Companions and the Other
Now to take things to somewhere less serious: a video game. I have long been aware of how the presence of other people impacts how I behave. If someone else is in the room, I won't typically pass gas, laugh obnoxiously, and so forth. If I am talking to someone and a stranger is there, I state things differently in case of offending some bystander's sensibilities. What I didn't expect is how this would carry over in a video game with digital characters. In the new MMORPG, Star Wars: The Old Republic (SWTOR), each player is giving a set of companions that can help them out on their journeys. As players make choices--perform certain actions or state certain things--they can impact their companion's "affection" for them. Usually, the impact is negligible, but sometimes the impact is tremendous. I am not sure what this change in affection spells out to in the game; I have not read about it or progressed far enough into the game to know. I expect perhaps one of them could betray/leave you depending on how much they like you, or maybe they will get a stats boost? It is hard to know, but the "points" also adds a dimension to the relationship.
Regardless, as I had a companion with me, I noted that I wouldn't make certain choices that I typically would if they weren't around. I didn't want to "offend" her or hurt our relationship. For actions that I wanted to make despite their feelings, I found that I would send them away on a mission, so that they didn't have to be there for me to make that decision in their presence. I was surprised to find myself caring about the feelings, responses, and reactions of make believe digital characters. This had happen in the past in certain games, such as when I did not want to betray Tali's trust in Bioware's Mass Effect 2, but it has never occurred to the extent that it has an SWTOR. It has brought the impact of "the other" on me far more than I expected, and I applaud the game for adding this level of depth to the game. It is also nice that all of the companions really have different views--you cannot make them all happy with any decision that you make; just as it is with real people.
Taylor Petrey: "Towards a Post-Heterosexual Mormon Theology"
Following up on Eric's post, I wanted to read and summarize Petrey's pioneering article for those who are interested. I wish I could have made this shorter, but it was hard to scrunch down as it is. Feel free to give suggestions for where clarity can be improved, or what can be cropped to narrow this down.
Summary: Much LDS discourse has discussed homosexuality to consider its causes, give pastoral advice to LDS homosexuals, or to encourage a change in our attitudes towards practicing homosexuals. Taking on a suggestion from Alan Michael Williams, Petrey attempts to speculatively explore how Mormon theology might accomodate non-heterosexual relationships, in the hope that our sealing/family doctrines might make more "soteriological sense" for the emerging diversity in families.
He admits few LDS will believe there can be any reconciliation between homosexual relationships and church doctrine, and while they may be right, this is debatable. He suggests that we consider homosexuality not in terms of desires or practices, but in terms of relationships, such as we do for her heterosexuality (eternal marital relationships). Petrey believes this should be acceptable since some LDS heterosexual couples are celibate (physical incapacitation): marriage should not be reduced to sexuality.
Much resistance to accepting homosexual relationships comes from weakly supported LDS beliefs regarding celestial reproduction through sealed male and female couples. Petrey points out "theological tension" between beliefs in spirit birth and the eternal nature of intelligence. Some views of spirit birth employ a sexual edge to them (requiring something supposedly biological from the mixed-sex pairs), while others are more metaphorical and are likely disconnected from reproductive organs. Petrey thinks that the former views are pitiful, suggesting it must lead to a strong commitment to biological literalism (spirit babies gestasting for nine months in celestial female wombs). Besides this, Petrey believes it is strange that resurrected, celestial bodies should give birth to spirit bodies instead of ones like their own. If mortal bodies produce mortal bodies for their children, should not celestial bodies produce celestial bodies for birth? Petrey also suggests that each stage in our progression does not seem to require birth through other's bodies, such as in the case of the resurrection. Hence, we should not assume that moving from the intelligence stage to the spirit child stage required a biological birth, but instead a loose "organization" from matter that we may consider symbolically as a birth, as in the case of baptism. God's embodiment should not make us assume that God must engage in a sexual union to produce life. The creation of life on the earth, Eve from Adam's rib, and the virgin birth suggest otherwise. Thus, we might imagine reproduction for same-sex partners. With women, it becomes more problematic if creation is a priesthood function and women do not currently possess the priesthood. Eschatological reproduction set aside, what about the problem of same-sex partners being unable to "multiple and replenish" the earth in the here and now? Petrey notes again that there are mixed-sex partners that cannot fulfill this command and still consummate their relationships, and if afterlife procreation is not like mortal procreation, he thinks the inability to procreate here should not be a censorship for sealings. All couples should have the responsibility to provide for and rear children, but this can be done through adoption and reproductive technology.
While sealing often involves biological kinship ties, Petrey notes that the kinship ties have not historically been biological or for reproductive couples. By examining different culutures--African American, rural Chinese--we see kinship models that are not based on a father-mother-child paradigm, so it is not unique to same-sex relationships. Sealings for same-sex couples could provide ritual legitimization for existing social relationships, while also priviliging unions of long term filiation (marriage). Before 1894, Mormons sealed themselves to church leaders regardless of their blood/reproductive relationships, and this also established an alternate way of establishing kinship. The focus was not on sealing genealogical chains, but on uniting humanity into one sacred fellowship with the most righteous acting as the rulers. This older form of sealing helps us imagine same-sex relationships in a gospel sense. Woodruff's shift towards sealing in genealogical chains still provided for members to be sealed to Joseph Smith, but he paved the way for the emphasis of sealing to be about the ordinance and not getting sealed to the "right person(s)." Currently, adopted children are sealed to others they are not biologically/reproductively related to, so there is no sense of exclusivity to those relationships even amongst sealings now. Petrey notes how in rare circumstances children born into the covenant can be adopted by others and then sealed to the adoptive parents (he is personnally aware of one instance). Next, he thinks that since children born in the covenant maintain their "birthright" regardless of parents cancelling their sealings, the importance is not biology, but the sealing itself. With biology/reproduction being replaced with spiritual kinship, same-sex couple sealings are less jarring theologically.
The concept of an "eternal gender" is an important issue in this discussion, as gender is used in church literature as a means of normatively guiding behavior for and spelling out the inherents traits of the gendered person. It is often argued that same-sex marriages could cause "gender confusion." Petrey tries to investigate what eternal gender means in the LDS Community to address this allegation of "gender confusion," but finds the term lacking in ready-made distinctions. He tries to analytically break down the term's use in LDS discussion into the following: the morphological bodies of males and females (their sex), the sense of identity corresponding to those bodies that includes sexual desires, and the social roles assigned to those bodies.
(1) Gender as Sex. It isn't clear how "gender confusion" could emerge from same-sex relationships if it is about bodies or one's eternal marker as being a male/female (male/female bodies persist regardless). The sexes could be fixed, but the particular configuration of relationships could also be changeable. However, Petrey doubts whether there is a "natural" sex division, which may really be politically motivated to establish ideological goals. His evidence for this doubt is that intersex persons resist the sex binary, and some scientists like Anne Fausto-Serling have suggested that there are more than 2 sexes. Furthermore, Petrey struggles to discover what it is about our sexes that is eternal. If gender refers to body differences, what body differences persist from a person's premortal existence to be considered eternal? Sex is part of one's contingent genetic makeup. What reason is there for assuming that one's genitalia (or whatever else one wants to specify about a particular body that makes it male or female) is an eternal/fundamental part of one's physical make up and not some other characteristic that is non-sexually related? Also, if the physical characteristic was present in the premortal self, what function did it serve (such as the genitalia)?
(2) Gender as Sexual-oriented Identity. Petrey describes gender identity as is some sort of proper/balanced relationship between sex, gender and desire. Confusion here would seem to claim that homosexuality leads men/women to be effiminate/masculine as they have incorrect desires, which they shouldn't have. Petrey finds this claim unsatisfactory. First, there is the problem that what is masucline/feminine varies culturally. Next, if this gender identity is eternal, it isn't clear why children must be taught and encouraged constantly what their gender identity is. Petrey thinks this view is incompatible, asserting that if gender is performed/developed, then it is not naturally possessed.
(3) Gender as Social Role. In this area, the assertion of "gender confusion" seems to be that one partner in the same-sex relationships is failing to conform to his/her proper eternal gendered role that one's sex has inherent traits to help fulfill (such as women being more nurturing, which is supposed to help them be better mothers). Petrey again criticizes this position for failing to observe the wide variety of difference in such roles between men/women across cultures. When it comes to church policy, Petrey admits same-sex relationships to challenge the 1 presiding, but both equal paradigm in current heterosexual marriages as advocated by the church. In a male same-sex relationship, who presides over the other? Or with 2 women? Yet Petrey doubts whether father/mothering roles can make sense eternally, since it is not clear what they were in the premortal life. How were males breadwinners or women mothers?
One last criticism that Petrey discusses is the charge that homosexual relationships encourage gender separatism. He thinks this charge falsely assumes that the only valuable mixed-sex interactions can happen in marriage/procreation. He believes this is not the case.
Summary: Much LDS discourse has discussed homosexuality to consider its causes, give pastoral advice to LDS homosexuals, or to encourage a change in our attitudes towards practicing homosexuals. Taking on a suggestion from Alan Michael Williams, Petrey attempts to speculatively explore how Mormon theology might accomodate non-heterosexual relationships, in the hope that our sealing/family doctrines might make more "soteriological sense" for the emerging diversity in families.
He admits few LDS will believe there can be any reconciliation between homosexual relationships and church doctrine, and while they may be right, this is debatable. He suggests that we consider homosexuality not in terms of desires or practices, but in terms of relationships, such as we do for her heterosexuality (eternal marital relationships). Petrey believes this should be acceptable since some LDS heterosexual couples are celibate (physical incapacitation): marriage should not be reduced to sexuality.
Much resistance to accepting homosexual relationships comes from weakly supported LDS beliefs regarding celestial reproduction through sealed male and female couples. Petrey points out "theological tension" between beliefs in spirit birth and the eternal nature of intelligence. Some views of spirit birth employ a sexual edge to them (requiring something supposedly biological from the mixed-sex pairs), while others are more metaphorical and are likely disconnected from reproductive organs. Petrey thinks that the former views are pitiful, suggesting it must lead to a strong commitment to biological literalism (spirit babies gestasting for nine months in celestial female wombs). Besides this, Petrey believes it is strange that resurrected, celestial bodies should give birth to spirit bodies instead of ones like their own. If mortal bodies produce mortal bodies for their children, should not celestial bodies produce celestial bodies for birth? Petrey also suggests that each stage in our progression does not seem to require birth through other's bodies, such as in the case of the resurrection. Hence, we should not assume that moving from the intelligence stage to the spirit child stage required a biological birth, but instead a loose "organization" from matter that we may consider symbolically as a birth, as in the case of baptism. God's embodiment should not make us assume that God must engage in a sexual union to produce life. The creation of life on the earth, Eve from Adam's rib, and the virgin birth suggest otherwise. Thus, we might imagine reproduction for same-sex partners. With women, it becomes more problematic if creation is a priesthood function and women do not currently possess the priesthood. Eschatological reproduction set aside, what about the problem of same-sex partners being unable to "multiple and replenish" the earth in the here and now? Petrey notes again that there are mixed-sex partners that cannot fulfill this command and still consummate their relationships, and if afterlife procreation is not like mortal procreation, he thinks the inability to procreate here should not be a censorship for sealings. All couples should have the responsibility to provide for and rear children, but this can be done through adoption and reproductive technology.
While sealing often involves biological kinship ties, Petrey notes that the kinship ties have not historically been biological or for reproductive couples. By examining different culutures--African American, rural Chinese--we see kinship models that are not based on a father-mother-child paradigm, so it is not unique to same-sex relationships. Sealings for same-sex couples could provide ritual legitimization for existing social relationships, while also priviliging unions of long term filiation (marriage). Before 1894, Mormons sealed themselves to church leaders regardless of their blood/reproductive relationships, and this also established an alternate way of establishing kinship. The focus was not on sealing genealogical chains, but on uniting humanity into one sacred fellowship with the most righteous acting as the rulers. This older form of sealing helps us imagine same-sex relationships in a gospel sense. Woodruff's shift towards sealing in genealogical chains still provided for members to be sealed to Joseph Smith, but he paved the way for the emphasis of sealing to be about the ordinance and not getting sealed to the "right person(s)." Currently, adopted children are sealed to others they are not biologically/reproductively related to, so there is no sense of exclusivity to those relationships even amongst sealings now. Petrey notes how in rare circumstances children born into the covenant can be adopted by others and then sealed to the adoptive parents (he is personnally aware of one instance). Next, he thinks that since children born in the covenant maintain their "birthright" regardless of parents cancelling their sealings, the importance is not biology, but the sealing itself. With biology/reproduction being replaced with spiritual kinship, same-sex couple sealings are less jarring theologically.
The concept of an "eternal gender" is an important issue in this discussion, as gender is used in church literature as a means of normatively guiding behavior for and spelling out the inherents traits of the gendered person. It is often argued that same-sex marriages could cause "gender confusion." Petrey tries to investigate what eternal gender means in the LDS Community to address this allegation of "gender confusion," but finds the term lacking in ready-made distinctions. He tries to analytically break down the term's use in LDS discussion into the following: the morphological bodies of males and females (their sex), the sense of identity corresponding to those bodies that includes sexual desires, and the social roles assigned to those bodies.
(1) Gender as Sex. It isn't clear how "gender confusion" could emerge from same-sex relationships if it is about bodies or one's eternal marker as being a male/female (male/female bodies persist regardless). The sexes could be fixed, but the particular configuration of relationships could also be changeable. However, Petrey doubts whether there is a "natural" sex division, which may really be politically motivated to establish ideological goals. His evidence for this doubt is that intersex persons resist the sex binary, and some scientists like Anne Fausto-Serling have suggested that there are more than 2 sexes. Furthermore, Petrey struggles to discover what it is about our sexes that is eternal. If gender refers to body differences, what body differences persist from a person's premortal existence to be considered eternal? Sex is part of one's contingent genetic makeup. What reason is there for assuming that one's genitalia (or whatever else one wants to specify about a particular body that makes it male or female) is an eternal/fundamental part of one's physical make up and not some other characteristic that is non-sexually related? Also, if the physical characteristic was present in the premortal self, what function did it serve (such as the genitalia)?
(2) Gender as Sexual-oriented Identity. Petrey describes gender identity as is some sort of proper/balanced relationship between sex, gender and desire. Confusion here would seem to claim that homosexuality leads men/women to be effiminate/masculine as they have incorrect desires, which they shouldn't have. Petrey finds this claim unsatisfactory. First, there is the problem that what is masucline/feminine varies culturally. Next, if this gender identity is eternal, it isn't clear why children must be taught and encouraged constantly what their gender identity is. Petrey thinks this view is incompatible, asserting that if gender is performed/developed, then it is not naturally possessed.
(3) Gender as Social Role. In this area, the assertion of "gender confusion" seems to be that one partner in the same-sex relationships is failing to conform to his/her proper eternal gendered role that one's sex has inherent traits to help fulfill (such as women being more nurturing, which is supposed to help them be better mothers). Petrey again criticizes this position for failing to observe the wide variety of difference in such roles between men/women across cultures. When it comes to church policy, Petrey admits same-sex relationships to challenge the 1 presiding, but both equal paradigm in current heterosexual marriages as advocated by the church. In a male same-sex relationship, who presides over the other? Or with 2 women? Yet Petrey doubts whether father/mothering roles can make sense eternally, since it is not clear what they were in the premortal life. How were males breadwinners or women mothers?
One last criticism that Petrey discusses is the charge that homosexual relationships encourage gender separatism. He thinks this charge falsely assumes that the only valuable mixed-sex interactions can happen in marriage/procreation. He believes this is not the case.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Gender and Speculation
Taylor Petrey recently published an article in Dialogue titled "Toward a Post-heterosexual Mormon Theology." In it he argues that there are many different ways to think about gender, marriage, and sexuality within the LDS framework and outlines ways in which we could alter our views of homosexuality in order to accommodate the rapidly-changing social views on sexuality and marriage. I found it to be a rather well-written piece: exploratory, but not too prescriptive. Adam Miller posted a response on T&S in which he praises Petrey for doing what he (Adam) considers good theology.
Ralph Hancock responded to Taylor Petrey and Adam by arguing against both. Not only did he seem to think that Taylor was mistaken in many of his ideas, he takes umbrage with the project of speculation about theology and Adam's praising of it. He feels that this is something best done in private, rather than projecting these ideas into the public sphere.
Check all three articles out if you have a chance - I think they address two important concepts that are burdening LDS thought at the moment. First, obviously, is the place of homosexuality in LDS life. Second, how is theology to be done? There is so much unfruitful anti-intellectualism and anti-anti-intellectualism that many times the real issue gets left behind in a cloud of angry posts on T&S. How are we to approach the doctrines of the church (how to define that term is in itself a sticky situation)? Is there a place for public speculation of theology? Should we be publicly discussing our struggles with the occasional incongruities we feel between what we're taught and what we experience?
I welcome any and all thoughts on any topics connected with this idea. Bring it, people!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Bertrand Russell: Problems of Philosophy Chapter 2 The Existence of Matter
Summary: Russell continues to consider the possible difference between appearance and reality. In the past, we instinctively believed that sense-data were equivalent to objects, but observation, discovery, and dreams have at least at times shown them to be disparate. Given this, we can wonder whether or not there is in the general sense "matter" : something behind the absolutely certain sense data that continues to exist when no one is looking or if no minds were to exist at all. Russell thinks that if we cannot ascertain a matter with independent existence, then we may lapse into solipsism. If others are only known via their bodies, and the independent existence of bodies is doubted, then the existence of other minds also becomes debatable. Russell admits solipsism as a possibility, but he thinks we have no reason to suppose its actuality. Next, Russell reviews the Cartesian methodology of systematic doubting anything not shown to be clearly and distinctly true. While Descartes believes the method leads him to the certainty of his own existence, Russell doubts this. Particular experiences have far more certainty than personal existence. The sensation of a color is far more "a color is being seen" rather than "I am seeing a color." Even though an experiencer may be presupposed, this does necessarily involve any "I." The main payoff of the Cartesian method is to show that primitive thoughts, feelings, and experiences are the most certain, even if the sensations are of illusions.
Can we infer from these primitives the existence of something else? Clearly, our common sense says yes. When we put a tablecloth over a table such that the sense data attributed to the table is hidden from view, we do not believe that the table has disappeared and that a levitating tablecloth remains in its place. However, common sense has often been wrong. We might next refer to our public commerce that involves the supposition of "public neutral objects," objects that are the same for all parties even though the sense data received by each person is privately received. We believe this due to the similarity of sense data being received. Russell, however, believes that this reasoning begs the question because other people are being used to prove that there actually are other people. If we are to make headway, we have to look at our private experiences and show that they tend to show that there are others. Russell doubts that this can be shown certainly (the dream sequence is always a logical possibility), but it can be shown probabilistically. Russell's mainly argues that the hypothesis that there are independent objects is simpler. Several observed regularities such as the motion, the hunger, and language of sets of sense data attributed to objects require less explanation if they belong to real objects. Russell admits this conclusion is weaker than we might hope, but he argues it is typical of philosophical arguments. He believes knowledge is based upon instinctive beliefs, so that if all are rejected, nothing is left. After all, we cannot have reason to reject a belief except on the ground of some other belief. Nonetheless, instinctive beliefs can through philosophical reflection be organized into an hierarchy that forms a harmonious, coherent system that is "most possible." Yet it remains possible that the whole system is mistaken, so a healthy bit of doubt should be applied to all beliefs.
NOTE: To relate Russell's tangent at the end of the chapter back to the case in point, Russell implicitly seems to be asserting that we can compare an explanation asserting the existence of independent objects and one that does not, and that while both may be coherent, the latter will require far more propositions to do so. Since it requires the acceptance of more propositions to explain sense data, it is "less possible," since we can imagine far more possible universes in a system that has less propositions (like the independent object explanation). If we place our bets with the more possible, we have a greater chance of being right if we rolled the cosmic dice. While this may be valid, it is debatable whether or not the non-independent object universe requires more propositions. Furthermore, even if this is the case, it may not give Russell what he wants to say here: that it is more reasonable to believe in what is more possible, and therefore it is more reasonable to believe in a world with matter when it comes to explaining sense data.
Can we infer from these primitives the existence of something else? Clearly, our common sense says yes. When we put a tablecloth over a table such that the sense data attributed to the table is hidden from view, we do not believe that the table has disappeared and that a levitating tablecloth remains in its place. However, common sense has often been wrong. We might next refer to our public commerce that involves the supposition of "public neutral objects," objects that are the same for all parties even though the sense data received by each person is privately received. We believe this due to the similarity of sense data being received. Russell, however, believes that this reasoning begs the question because other people are being used to prove that there actually are other people. If we are to make headway, we have to look at our private experiences and show that they tend to show that there are others. Russell doubts that this can be shown certainly (the dream sequence is always a logical possibility), but it can be shown probabilistically. Russell's mainly argues that the hypothesis that there are independent objects is simpler. Several observed regularities such as the motion, the hunger, and language of sets of sense data attributed to objects require less explanation if they belong to real objects. Russell admits this conclusion is weaker than we might hope, but he argues it is typical of philosophical arguments. He believes knowledge is based upon instinctive beliefs, so that if all are rejected, nothing is left. After all, we cannot have reason to reject a belief except on the ground of some other belief. Nonetheless, instinctive beliefs can through philosophical reflection be organized into an hierarchy that forms a harmonious, coherent system that is "most possible." Yet it remains possible that the whole system is mistaken, so a healthy bit of doubt should be applied to all beliefs.
NOTE: To relate Russell's tangent at the end of the chapter back to the case in point, Russell implicitly seems to be asserting that we can compare an explanation asserting the existence of independent objects and one that does not, and that while both may be coherent, the latter will require far more propositions to do so. Since it requires the acceptance of more propositions to explain sense data, it is "less possible," since we can imagine far more possible universes in a system that has less propositions (like the independent object explanation). If we place our bets with the more possible, we have a greater chance of being right if we rolled the cosmic dice. While this may be valid, it is debatable whether or not the non-independent object universe requires more propositions. Furthermore, even if this is the case, it may not give Russell what he wants to say here: that it is more reasonable to believe in what is more possible, and therefore it is more reasonable to believe in a world with matter when it comes to explaining sense data.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Bertrand Russell: Problems of Philosophy Chapter 1 Appearance and Reality
Summary: As we search for certain knowledge, we often start with listing statements about what we think our immediate experience absolutely shows us about the world. Such statements, such as claims of knowledge about the color of a nearby table, seem initially evident, but Russell thinks that methodical doubt can show that they are likely wrong. Russell notes the difference in color throughout the table, the change in color when lighting is removed or adjusted, the alteration of color as one moves, or the different color reported by a color-blind person. The same could be done with the claims about a table's texture. If one asserts the table is smooth, one could look through a microscope and see the hills and valleys in the grain. For Russell, as one digs down and tests these statements, one becomes aware of the difference between appearance (how things seemed) on the one hand, and reality (how things are discovered to be) on the other. As one continues to dig and discredit appearances, the questions arise is there a table at all, and if there is, what sort of object is it? Russell suggests that our common existential assertions about the table (its color, texture, etc.) are really about sense-data. Our immediate awareness of the data is sensation. While this data is sensed, we might honestly doubt whether there is something, a reality or "matter" behind the data. While the science of Russell's day views matter as "a vast collection of electric charges in violent motion," Russell treats matter as meaning something more general: anything that is "behind" the sense data.
For if matter is treated as something opposed to mind that occupies space, there have been several parties that historically have disagreed. Berkeley maintained that the sense-datum do stand for some outside reality, but this something is mental--minds or ideas entertained by the mind. He believed this is necessary to explain how we know the outside world: knowing the object is easy since qua idea it may inhabit the mind for a time. He supposed that if the reality of the table was drastically different from its appearance it could not be known. The ideas responsible for our sensation of sense-datum linger even when we are not present, sustained by the mind of God (where all ideas linger in its all-perceiving gaze). Russell observes that in absolute idealism Berkeley's concept of the all-perceiving mind of God is secularized into the collective mind of the universe. Russell summarizes the general idealist argument for an exclusively mental reality is: "'Whatever can be thought of is an idea in a thinker's mind; therefore nothing can be thought of except ideas in minds; therefore anything else is inconceivable, and what is inconceivable cannot exist." Russell rejects this argument, but also points out that idealism is not so radical about the question between appearance and reality. We can doubt the existence of a non-mental reality outside of appearance, but might we not also doubt any sort of reality altogether (matter in the more general sense)? We wonder, if reality is not the same as appearance, do we have any means of knowing whether there is any independent reality? And if we do, are there any means of knowing what that reality is like?
For if matter is treated as something opposed to mind that occupies space, there have been several parties that historically have disagreed. Berkeley maintained that the sense-datum do stand for some outside reality, but this something is mental--minds or ideas entertained by the mind. He believed this is necessary to explain how we know the outside world: knowing the object is easy since qua idea it may inhabit the mind for a time. He supposed that if the reality of the table was drastically different from its appearance it could not be known. The ideas responsible for our sensation of sense-datum linger even when we are not present, sustained by the mind of God (where all ideas linger in its all-perceiving gaze). Russell observes that in absolute idealism Berkeley's concept of the all-perceiving mind of God is secularized into the collective mind of the universe. Russell summarizes the general idealist argument for an exclusively mental reality is: "'Whatever can be thought of is an idea in a thinker's mind; therefore nothing can be thought of except ideas in minds; therefore anything else is inconceivable, and what is inconceivable cannot exist." Russell rejects this argument, but also points out that idealism is not so radical about the question between appearance and reality. We can doubt the existence of a non-mental reality outside of appearance, but might we not also doubt any sort of reality altogether (matter in the more general sense)? We wonder, if reality is not the same as appearance, do we have any means of knowing whether there is any independent reality? And if we do, are there any means of knowing what that reality is like?
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