Philosophy debunked: making the sensible, sensible (in 500 words or less) - Perry Smith

Philosophy debunked: making the sensible, sensible (in 500 words or less)

This is the part of the newsletter where we take a particular philosopher/philosophical theory/term and debunk it, to take it, and make it (hopefully) in some way more understandable, less wordy, but also interesting (and maybe give you something to show off to the boss/significant other with). For me, and us (at the Philosophy Takeaway), this is what philosophy is/should be, anyway (when it's not just written for: a) stuffy, dust-covered academics, to show how big their brains are - by their being able to understand and use such terms, and b) to give a reason why they're single, and most probably will die alone - by their having to spend so much time learning what these terms mean, and having none left over for a social life, which is something, again, we, at the Philosophy Takeaway, too, only know too well.

Now, without further ado, Rationalism (in 500 words or less). Rationalism is the philosophical school whereby we can simply come to the knowledge of things by the use of our logic alone. Using deductive reasoning - that is to use our intellect, we can see the truth of propositions, such as those of mathematics (like 1+1=2), but also, in some cases, of the truth of things outside this analytic (of things being true in themselves) framework, and is also extended to such things like the existence of God (this being opposed to Empiricism, whereby knowledge/truth is derived by induction- that is, acquiring knowledge from experience and the sensations we derive from the world). Because of this intellectual capability, Rationalists also believe that there are such things as innate principles (of there being things that we can know before experience), due to this inbuilt capability of our being able to find truth, without having to experience it. Another prominent feature of Rationalism, therefore, is the mind/body distinction; Rationalists, in the most part, are also Dualists, which means they see the mind and body as being two separate, distinct, things (and also view the mind as being more important), as it is through the mind that we come to know things about the world. Some examples of Rationalists include Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz; a good text to help understand Rationalism further would be Descartes’ “Meditations on First Philosophy”. And there you have it, Rationalism in 500 words or less!

 

And now for some Takeaway Teasers

 

I) Descartes takes his date for the night, a young Spinoza, to a posh restaurant, after the two of them had a falling out over Descartes’ mind/body Dualism, to make it up to him. Them both being Rationalists, they thought it best to go out, as logically, this would preclude there being any washing up afterwards, and would also allow for more time for the playing around with candle wax for the both of them. The waiter seats and hands them the wine list, with Spinoza then asking to order the most expensive bottle on the list, citing the fact that, due to their both being expressions of the same one substance, God, it would be as though, in a roundabout way, he (Spinoza) would be paying as well. To this, with a knowing glare, Descartes chortles: "I think not!", and *POOF* he disappears, leaving Spinoza the bill.

II) A man walks in to a café. This is not any ordinary café, however, but is one that is solely made up of either benevolent spirits or deceiving demons (though the two are not physically distinguishable from one another, say, by appearance). Spirits, by nature, then, always tell the truth; however, demons, again, by their nature, always lie. Suffice to say, this, and the café’s supernatural inhabitants, were not something this man was aware of before he chose this particular café to have lunch in. Upon entering, the man is confronted by two individuals, and for the purposes of this, they shall be named individual ‘A’ and individual ‘B’, as the man was not given either of their names. Individual A, upon this meeting, immediately tells the man that individual B is a demon; B says, in response, that neither A, nor themselves, are demons. So, who is the spirit? And who is the demon?

Perry Smith

The Philosophy Takeaway Issue 46 'Open Topic'

Spinoza on emotions, self-preservation and our being

Emotions: pesky little things aren’t they? Some bring joy; others anguish, with a whole host of different feelings betwixt the two. Think of the first time you fell in love, or got a present you really wanted, or passed an exam or driving test. Now, think of a saddening event. Thence, think of how you felt before and after. A whole host of emotions plague us, day in day out: to be torn in all directions is the natural human condition.

For a certain Mr Baruch de Spinoza, who believed that we are all defined through a non-religious God who ultimately controls all things in the universe, emotions are beautiful, logical things. This is because God is defined by logic: he is self-causing and his essence is this self-causation – he must thus continue to produce things to continue to exist. Logical, no? If we are thus created by a logical God, and so is everything else – every imaginable thing: plants, cars, muscles, thoughts, pens and paper, musings and eyebrow raises – emotions, too, are logical. ‘Emotions can be treated and explained through logic, as if they were geometry’, to paraphrase the good man. 

Power of acting; definition of emotions

How though, do we get to this idea? What, first of all, is an emotion? Spinoza tells us in the following statement to define it as the modes of a body by which the body’s ability to act is increased or decreased, the perceptions of these and the resultant reaction. 

Let us take the following example to understand Spinoza’s idea better: I am punched in the face. I see it coming, I feel it – my face feels it and my mind registers it simultaneously. I now stumble back: I cannot act, or be, as well as I could before the punch. I feel anger – my power of acting, of moving, of doing anything, may be better than before, but still not as good as before I was punched. Emotions cannot be controlled by us, says Spinoza – they are logically defined.

Spinoza gives us two base emotions, upon which all others are constructed: joy and sadness. It is through emotions that we can see how the environment is working for us. Emotions are the link between our inner state and the outer world. We can only find our ‘power of acting’ indirectly through the emotions – it can never be grasped directly.

We constantly desire to maintain a joyous, happy state – as everyone, of course, likes to be happy. We thus attempt to repel things that will have the ability to make our power of acting decrease – be it a sad event in our lives, an argument with somebody or a punch in the face; we always strive for the happier ones, as these give us a bit more ‘oomph’ and confidence.

Conatus

The notion of the ‘power of acting’, Spinoza takes yet a step further. Spinoza notes that we all have a certain drive within us: a desire and striving to stay alive. As we are all ultimately created by God, and he, as noted above, must necessarily create to keep existing, he leaves a little imprint of his power in all things, including humans: the desire to survive, the power of self-preservation at whatever cost. This power, he coins as the term ‘Conatus’.

The Conatus is in all things: it can be as obvious as someone running at us with a knife and us fleeing, or as abstract as an electron figuratively turning away from a proton or neutron. Self-preservation is what makes us, us. We do not want to be destroyed, hence we run – this is at our very being.

As the mind and body are simultaneously aware of each other through perceptions of the outside world (as one hits the body, the mind registers it and vice versa) and as the body cannot come into contact with something that would destroy it, neither then, can the mind. This means that the mind cannot think of anything that would destroy it: it cannot comprehend or even have a vague notion of death. To have a vague notion of death, would equate to its feeling of death through the body and it cannot do this, for if it had felt that, it would, by definition, be dead and thus unthinking. As a result, for Spinoza – the mind can only feel incredible highs and the depths of sadness, but nothing beyond that: death is not an option.

A few questions...

This also means that suicide is not an option – how is this explained? Spinoza would say that we can be killed, but only through an external cause, from an outside object. The mind would have no idea that we would die if someone stabs us: it would only sense threat. Can suicide ever exist in a Spinozian world?

Spinoza goes on to elaborate on every conceivable emotion in over 40 pages, all based upon the base emotions of happiness and sadness. Is it right to say that these are the basic emotions that we all feel?

Spinoza says that our basic desire for self-preservation makes us who we are. Is there not more to us than this?

Joe Sturdy

Spinoza’s Ethics - By Joe Sturdy

 Spinoza’s Ethics

Imagine that there is a God. Not a religious God, but just a thing, a power, called God – it is in nature and is absolutely infinite, that is – it has no beginning or end and causes itself. This is a key concept. It is the only such thing in the universe and can only be so, as it causes itself and for anything else to do so, would mean that it wouldn’t be by itself in the cosmos. You get the idea.

This ‘God’ must exist. As a result, if it must exist and self-causes itself, it must have some life-force. It cannot negate itself: it must thus produce something to carry on living, says Spinoza: he calls these 'somethings' modes. This is a very versatile term: they can be thoughts, imaginings, memories or anything at all physical – not just human bodies, but animals, carrier bags, cars, trees, the molecules and atoms that we breathe and come into a contact with on a daily basis. Think of a mode like this: the cricket ball smashing the window, the person tripping over the ball that was just kicked. Each of these, the cricket ball, the window, the person are modes.  These are produced endlessly, constantly. These are an abundance of richness.

As each of these is produced by God, which has a certain power as its life-force: the power to exist and thus produce, each of these modes too, has a little bit of God’s power in them. While they cannot, as God does, create themselves, they do have a bit of life-force within them: the power to keep living at all costs. This makes sense to us with humans: we snatch a hand away from intense heat, but what about a table? Spinoza would say that its property of staying upright and not breaking would consist as its life-force.

God has this life-force and constantly has to pump these modes out into existence, for that is what its essence and self-cause is: the force of needing to do whatever is needed to carry on existing. God cannot negate itself – it must keep on existing: by production of modes. As a result, we should see God as a power.

What sort of power? ‘One that creates all events and all things’, says Spinoza rather simplistically. The things, we understand: modes. But events? Each little event – the bag floating up into the air (caused by the movement of air), or the cricket ball smashing the window? Really, this is caused by God? Ultimately, yes; except to us, we don’t picture it as that; rather we see it as the cricket ball that was thrown by the child, smashing the window. In one way, that is of course true: the cricket ball did smash the window; modes can still interact with one another – but God is, in Spinoza’s eyes, the cause of events, as he produced the modes.

At this point, then: What have we got? Let’s take stock. The following points should be able to be seen:

An infinite (never ending, never beginning), self-caused and producing being that must necessarily do this to exist: ‘God’. It is non-religious. It produces a huge abundance of modes.

Modes – thoughts, memories, imaginings; physical things – atoms, molecules, trees, animals, human beings, carrier bags, cars, sugar, wood – you name it. These are produced by God and have a little bit of desire to do what they can to survive within them.

At this point, a couple of points should be made: if this has been set out well, it should be clear by now that, while we traditionally think that life events revolve around one another: the child cries and the mother sees this and picks it up and makes it happy again; what actually occurs is that each of these events is determined by God.

As a result, choice does not exist. Everything is determined by God, through God: he is the mover and shaker of the universe – he is within everything. Even though modes (the child and mother, for example) can still interact, ultimately all this is decided by God. We are, contrary to our beliefs not the most intelligent things on Earth: we are just another mode, fighting for survival like everything else (or so says Spinoza in part 1 of his Ethics, but will he maintain this deterministic world view in later parts? - Ed).

The traditional hierarchies of the Church, and indeed life, are now abandoned. There is no more supreme being: he is in all of us, in all things. Equality, should, according to Spinoza, now exist.

By Joe Sturdy