I suppose I'd usually put this in a notebook, but anyway… it seems to me that materialism is, ultimately, an attack on consciousness. I suspect that, at heart, the materialist is unable to believe in the obvious (consciousness being the obvious). And an attack on consciousness is probably also an attack on free will, since if there is any path to free will at all, then it must surely be consciousness.
But since we all experience the obvious, the materialist must find ways to undermine this. The intention to undermine is revealed when the contradictions of materialist argument are pointed out. If humans are nothing more than matter, whence consciousness? The argument, of course, is that consciousness is an epiphenomenon. It is only matter that is conscious. And yet materialists are the least likely of all people to believe that any matter other than human matter can be conscious. 'The Fall of the House of Usher'? Preposterous, they'll say. Even living animals they are dubious about. So matter can't be conscious? Which gives rise again to the question, whence consciousness? But this time we know that the agenda of the materialists is to wipe out consciousness if they possibly can (IE, the assertion that consciousness is only an arrangement of matter is not meant to elevate matter – which in other contexts they cannot believe is so elevated as to be conscious – but to denigrate consciousness to the level of the matter that they cannot believe is conscious). Presumably because it is irksome to them to have something they cannot explain and control. They will move from 'epiphenomenon' somehow to 'hallucination' (but what is hallucinating consciousness if not consciousness?), and they will move from 'hallucination' to 'nothing', if they can.
Another illustration of the contradictions of materialism can be seen in the standard argument against telepathy: nothing immaterial can possibly have an effect on the material universe. But, hang on a minute, aren't you the same people who say that there is nothing but the material universe anyway? Therefore, thoughts are material and there is no reason why they should not have an effect on the material universe. At which point they might try to reverse their argument and say there are non-material things. (Note: the reason they have to reverse the argument is that they're looking for a way to say that consciousness doesn't exist. If they admit that consciousness is material, they have to admit also that it exists. They reverse their arguments because some things have to be 'imaginary' and therefore non-material in order that they can banish them from existence.) Yes. And we're back to the question: where do those non-material things come from?
Robin Davies writes:Who are these “materialists” who are “attacking” consciousness? Can you give a specific example? I was under the impression that the nature of consciousness was a very lively topic and that there were almost as many theories as there are books on the subject.
I should add that if such people don’t exist and I’m arguing with myself then so much the better, but since I encounter them almost daily, at least on the internet if not at the supermarket checkout, where I don’t stop to ask people’s views, I’m making the vague assumption that they do exist, even if not in an ideal form.Do materialists exist? Christians? Atheists? Logical positivists? I would tend to say that they don’t exist. But some people identify themselves according to these concepts, and the concepts are, after all, human. So, if I have an argument it’s with the concepts and with identification with those concepts, which often come in packages for no very good reason, etc.It’s interesting to me that I can criticise religion till the cows come home and no one cares, but I’m frequently challenged when I criticise materialism, or what some people call humanism.
http://newhumanist.org.uk/1518/thinker-francis-crickThat's two I can think of immediately – the subject of the article and the author.
is the idea of a word a substance?i read the page about crick. http://newhumanist.org.uk/1518/thinker-francis-crick i experience a level of attention thinking as i read; associating and imagining naturally without any need of willing myself to think. that is mechanical. so i have to conclude that in the state i had to be in, bodiless, as far as awareness is concerned, that i was in a different realm of materiality. so there must be levels. and as far as thought can go in an ordinary state there is nothing but recombinations to review.but there are other states of mind. there are different levels of being and the materiality of thought in those, lets say higher mind experiences, is of a finer materiality, lighter, faster and non dimensional. anyway, i think its all material but 99% percent of consciousness is imaginary.where am i going with this? i have no idea. my brain is tired now. it ran out of energy.(another proof of that consciousness is flowing material.)people have said that god exists because we think of him.but i say god exists because there is a world. god exists unless i am making this enormous hologram myself. what is making it if not a supermind? nucleic acid ordering protein around? the miniscule rules everything? i don’t think so. there even has to be a seven dimensional blueprint.if you have a blueprint you need an architect with a degree in physics and engineering. even einstein said, “if you have a clock you have to have a clockmaker.” that could have been ‘watch’ and ‘watchmaker’.finally, i agree that all the religions have got it wrong. but i don’t blame them. mankind was just recording their misunderstandings.
But perhaps if you give some examples of the lively debate, I can attempt to say what I think of them, if that would be of interest.
I think about consciousness a great deal, and I don’t do so with agreed scientific terminology – often it’s non-verbal reflection, even. I can’t say that I know what’s going on, but I have at least observed that my experience of consciousness doesn’t tally with what I am often told is going on. I think my point is that for me, actually, more than the concepts, it’s the attitudes that matter. If it’s just concepts, then it could all be linguistic miscommunication, but it does concern me that there might be a very real (not conscious, I don’t think) movement to get us to see ourselves as less free and less valuable than we might actually be.Phone… more later…
Karl writes:Quentin, perhaps the materialists aren’t attempting to “disprove” consciousness; they are simply trying to explain its origins. To say consciousness originates from matter isn’t to deny its existence. The Acropolis is made of bricks and mortar, but that doesn’t mean the acropolis doesn’t exist. I think the attack on free-will is more serious, due to the political and ethical consequences of accepting determinism. Perhaps an analogy could be drawn between free-will and beauty here. Consciousness exists, we feel we have free-will although it cannot be technically proven in the sense of being seen under a microscope. Similarly, we may find the Acropolis beautiful, but that quality of beauty doesn’t exist objectively in the bricks and mortar; it’s a result of a live process between the observer and observed.
I’m actually at work now (at ‘the office’, no less). My mind is currently disintegrating because of work/financial worries. Therefore, I may not be able to give much attention to my blog for a while.I’ll try and get back to all this, though.Looking from the window of the Windsor and Eton train, at Waterloo Station, platform 15, I saw a stick-thin old man sitting on one of the backless benches. He was struggling (mechanically or spiritedly?)… he was struggling with the clasp of his valise in his lap. Something about his body language made me feel that I knew, somehow, exactly what he was feeling. I thought to myself, “Go on, mate, you’re doing all right”, as he finally got the clasp into its clippy little yoke (can’t think of the proper word) and got stiffly to his feet, and walked away.
Robin Davies writes:I’m not well up on this subject but my “lively debate” comment was based on the two books I have to hand – ‘How The Mind Works’ by Stephen Pinker and ‘The Beginning Of Infinity’ by David Deutsch. I suspect Daniel Dennett (author of ‘Consciousness Explained’) might be one of your targets so it’s interesting that both Pinker and Deutsch disagree with him. Deutsch agrees with those philosophers who think that Dennett’s book should be called ‘Consciousness Denied’! I don’t know if any of their arguments are summarised on the internet so it might be necessary to read the books. Incidentally, the Deutsch book covers a very wide range of science and philosophy and is one of the most fascinating books I have ever read. I strongly recommend it.
That David Deutsch book looks very interesting. I’ll have to check that out.I suppose I incline to “naturalism,” which might be a less problematic word and concept than “materialism.” After quantum physics, who even knows what matter is any more, except possibly for a few theoretical physicists, if they even know (which seems doubtful). Of course, naturalism itself could be seen as a problematic concept. I have more confidence in what could be called epistemological or methodological naturalism, than in ontological naturalism — the former merely being methods of knowing, with the ontological pictures they reveal; the latter being a claim to know more about what reality *is* than I think anyone can claim to know.Here are a few philosophers’ speculations, which you may or may not already know about and may or may not be interested in. None of this is, to my mind, irrational or mystical in the slightest; it is simply philosophers speculating in their own conceptual realm, which is not science but (at least in the following cases) is not anti-science either. I think that philosophy does have its own legitimate speculative realm apart from science (some scientists and philosophers wouldn’t agree, but so what?); and of course there still are rational standards by which philosophy can be judged.And literature, of course, doesn’t have to abide by philosophy’s rational standards, just as philosophy doesn’t have to abide by science’s empirical standards. (I’m one of those boringly conventional people who think that these familiar divisions, these domain-categories of endeavor have legitimacy.)Jeez, that was a lot of throat-clearing.I find Colin McGinn’s notion of “transcendental naturalism” to be compelling. He thinks there are hard problems, such as consciousness and free will, that human beings may simply be incapable of understanding. See his books Problems in Philosophy: The Limits of Inquiry and The Mysterious Flame: Conscious Minds in a Material World.However, I recently ran across this trenchant critique of “mysterian materialism” by William F. Vallicella (who is a theist but who argues rationally as a philosopher): http://maverickphilosopher.typepad.com/maverick_philosopher/2011/11/the-mysterian-materialist-speaks.htmlFor weirder speculations, see Galen Strawson’s Consciousness and Its Place in Nature: Does Physicalism Entail Panpsychism? In the words of the following linked review, Strawson’s position is that “the materialist who is serious about consciousness has no choice but to embrace panpsychism”: http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/25286-consciousness-and-its-place-in-nature-does-physicalism-entail-panpsychism/The philosopher I’m most interested in these days is Graham Harman. I’ve been reading about his fascinating conceptions of object-oriented ontology for a few years now. Here is a blog post in which he succinctly explains his object-oriented position, as against materialism and scientism (and Harman is withering about Metzinger’s attempted deconstruction of the self): http://doctorzamalek2.wordpress.com/2011/01/24/the-case-for-objects/I'm still assimilating all this (and more) and I’m not sure where I stand. My thinking is incoherent because I’ve been influenced by a lot of different things I’ve read, and I’m probably too old to suddenly change my mind about anything (so much mental furniture to rearrange).
Originally posted by anonymous:I’m not well up on this subject but my “lively debate” comment was based on the two books I have to hand – ‘How The Mind Works’ by Stephen Pinker and ‘The Beginning Of Infinity’ by David Deutsch.Have been meaning to read Pinker for ages (have only read a couple of short articles of his). Deutsch is a name I’m familiar with, but I haven’t read his work.Originally posted by gveranon:I’m still assimilating all this (and more) and I’m not sure where I stand. My thinking is incoherent because I’ve been influenced by a lot of different things I’ve read, and I’m probably too old to suddenly change my mind about anything (so much mental furniture to rearrange).These links look fascinating. In relation to some of the content of your summaries, the other night, wondering again about this whole consciousness thing, I was struck by the question, “What does it actually mean to explain something?” Can you explain consciousness in the same way that you explain… the rules of cricket, for instance, or the workings of a motor car? Some things do seem to be susceptible to explanation, but perhaps we apply that word sometimes to areas beyond those for which it has any useful application. I suppose I can illustrate what I’m trying to get at with the help of Douglas Adams and his notorious ‘meaning of life = 42’. Supposing that that were the explanation of consciousness (and an explanation as such, would have to be something like 42), no one (surely?) would say, “Ah, of course, it all makes sense now.” Anyway… these are brief musings. I’ve just been tackling part of that financial problem mentioned. How much money do you think Egg Card (now taken over by Barlcays) charge on a debt of (now) £918 which is being paid back at £23 a month? Answer: £15 a month. How is that even legal?Once this is paid off, I will never own a credit card again.Anyway… work.More later, I suppose.
looks like around 23%. that’s normal around here too. usury is immoral but not illegal anymore. i think, once it was.but being able to borrow even at that rate can sometimes be a big help i found. i look at it as paying to have something now instead of a year from now by saving the money.
Incidentally, I wonder if I’ll ever get an apology (let alone compensation) from the countless doctors who have told me over the years that my depression is due to lack of seratonin:http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/01/23/145525853/when-it-comes-to-depression-serotonin-isnt-the-whole-story?ps=cprsOne critic I talked to said the serotonin story distracted researchers from looking for other causes of depression. But Delgado agrees with Frazer and says the story has some benefits. He points out that years of research have demonstrated that uncertainty itself can be harmful to people — which is why, he says, clear, simple explanations are so very important.”When you feel that you understand it, a lot of the stress levels dramatically are reduced,” he says. “So stress, hormones and a lot of biological factors change.”This makes me angry. The same people would never accept the same argument from a priest – that simple certainties are good for people. It doesn’t compensate me, either, for being treated like a simpleton by this kind of scum for years because I didn’t believe them.
Karl writes:Hi, Quentin. In regard to this particular debate, you may find the following of interest:http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jan/27/science-delusion-rupert-sheldrake-review?newsfeed=true
Originally posted by anonymous:Hi, Quentin. In regard to this particular debate, you may find the following of interest:http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jan/27/science-delusion-rupert-sheldrake-review?newsfeed=trueThanks. Predictably for the Guardian, the comments section is full of people rubbishing the review with no reference to specifics, but merely because it is respectful of someone suggesting that science might be better if…Recently I read an article about how seeing Jesus in a piece of toast, or whatever, is a phenonemon arising in the same part of the brain that is used for general pattern recognition… I’ll try and find the link if I can. Hardly earth-shattering stuff. Anyway, there was actually a phrase used in this article… I’ll find it. I don’t want to be accused of misquoting or exaggerating, or making things up. This is it:http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=wired-for-weirdAnd this is the quote:Although we are still in the early stages of learning which features of the brain cause us to form unscientific ideas, one interesting finding suggests a possible unifying theory for belief in ghosts, precognition, telepathy, and the like.And this is in what I believe is a respected magazine. I come across this kind of ridiculous assumption all the time in these articles, but I’m offering this as an example. There are apparently “features of the brain [that] cause us to form unscientific ideas”. So, presumably, if we just remove these unscientific areas or features of the brain, the world will be perfect, since science is perfect?This kind of thing just sets my teeth on edge.By the way, my favourite comment from the comment thread there:”Belief in the paranormal arises from the same brain mechanisms that shape most human thought.”So… thought comes from the same mechanisms that shape thought…amazing.I think the reason I hate this kind of stuff so much is that I am surrounded by people who treat science as sacred in a weird way. Even this following comment, with which I broadly agree, seems to parrot the mantra about science being the best intellectual system we’ve got:http://www.guardian.co.uk/discussion/comment-permalink/14356938Says who? For what purpose? In what way? Why?I suppose in relation to that particular question, I would agree with Gveranon that the divisions between areas of intellectual endeavour have some meaning, though these divisions are at least partially fluid. At the very least, I wouldn’t like to see someone claim that science contains some other area just because the two overlap.I’ve also noticed what seems like a trend amongst vocal atheists of making ‘tolerance’ and ‘open-mindedness’ into vices, and their opposites into virtues. (Presumably, with some people, this is a tactic they have to take: “Yeah, well, what if I am narrow-minded?… er… Narrow-mindedness is a good thing. Because… because… because open-minded people are stupid.” etc.) Pen Jilette joins Dawkins in calling tolerance ‘condescending’. Tim Minchin perpetuates a new meme by using it as the title of a song: “If you open your mind your brain will fall out” (or something like that). Yeah, really culturally enlarging stuff, guys. Thanks for that. It shouldn’t really surprise me that Pen Jilette says he respects fundamentalists more than liberal Christians. There just seem to be people on… well, I’m forced to say ‘both sides’, because that’s the way they want it… people on ‘both sides’ who want to keep the whole thing to ‘both sides’. This includes Stephen Fry, who has repeated the Chesterton quote that the problem of not believing in Christianity is not that you believe nothing, but that you’ll believe anything. Fry, like Chesterton, wants to keep it simple: We’re playing chess. There’s black and white. One side will win. Same for Hitchens, who tried to make out agnostics are really atheists. Same for Dawkins, who says pantheists are sexed-up atheists. Same for Terry Eagleton, who criticised Alain De Botton’s book about religion for atheists, concluding that Hitchens gave Christians something they could get their teeth into.What the hell is wrong with these people? Why do they want to divide the world into theists and atheists and force everyone to choose a side?(Note: I don’t group the above-named people together except inasmuch as they share the attitude that I have described. My attitude towards each of them varies. The world is not black and white.)
There’s something key about this kind of thing:http://www.guardian.co.uk/discussion/comment-permalink/14359080It hasn’t been explained yet, but I have more faith in scientists being able to answer it than just-so-storytellers, or ‘theologians’, as they are apt to call themselves.The ‘gap’, it seems to me, cuts both ways. On the one side, atheists accuse theists of explaining everything just by saying, “God did it”, and they call this blind faith. But their own fundamental faith seems to be that science will eventually explain everything. Do we know that science will explain everything? No. It is faith.The question here is really about explanation. I don’t care about ‘God’, as I’m not sure what the word means, but it seems to me that if, instead of saying ‘God’, we just say, ‘something very important but unexplainable’ then this puts the argument in a slightly different light. I’m not sure this is what theists mean, but to me, anyway, the ‘gap’ is exactly that: something very important and unexplainable. It’s not an attempt to explain things. You can’t explain things by saying that they’re unexplainable. It’s an attempt to say, “There’s more to life than going around explaining things.” Whether or not I’m right, I at least see that the faith in science eventually to explain everything leads those who hold this faith to treat people in a shoddy way, as they did me all the years they dismissed my problems as lack of seratonin. After all, that was the scientific explanation.Anyway, I’m neglecting my work.
EG:http://www.guardian.co.uk/discussion/comment-permalink/14357555And on and on and on.
I have nearly finished reading a book called The Origins of Agnosticism, by Bernard V. Lightman. This book is a careful examination of the writings, letters, and speeches of Victorian agnostics such as Huxley (who evidently coined the word), Stephen, Spencer, Tyndall, and Clifford. Quite interesting and, for me, eye-opening. At the risk of oversimplifying, Lightman portrays this 19th-century agnosticism as arising from the following influences: Christian theists such as Hamilton and Mansel who deployed Kantian epistemology (limits of human knowledge) in an attempt to *defend* Christianity (of course, Huxley et al. then used Kantian epistemology to *attack* ecclesiastical authority and traditional doctrines); a commitment to scientific naturalism; natural theology!! (inspired to some extent by Paley, but then transformed by their understanding of Darwin); and a Romantic reverence for nature which, given the language used by the agnostics themselves, could accurately be called religious (along the lines, sometimes of pantheism, sometimes of Deism). Oddly, Lightman doesn’t mention Deism (so far, anyway), although some of what these agnostics wrote seems like classic Deism to me. I get the sense that Lightman has his own take on all this, his own argument to make, but I haven’t yet read his Conclusion. Anyway, suffice it to say, as extensively documented by Lightman over many pages, the early agnostics were not “atheists” in the sense used by Hitchens, Jillette, et al., in the contemporary argument.More important to me than the specific opinions of these particular agnostics, or the formative significance of their historical context, is the example given by the philosophical amplitude and heft of all this. Yes, there is philosophical space for a substantive agnosticism apart from both theism and atheism as those terms are commonly used today. And it doesn’t seem right to me to regard agnosticism as just a middle ground between theism and atheism, as some today regard it. Agnosticism could probably be better described as a somewhat *different* ground.
Thanks. That sounds like an interesting read. As usual, I may write more here later.
Robin Davies writes:>The ‘gap’, it seems to me, cuts both ways. On the one side, atheists accuse theists of explaining everything just by saying, “God did it”, and they call this blind faith. But their own fundamental faith seems to be that science will eventually explain everything. Do we know that science will explain everything? No. It is faith.
Sorry about the rather topical lack of gaps in the guest comments at present.In answer to the question, there are some things I’d probably be keener to have an explanation for than others. If I felt fairly confident that the goblin was real, I’m not sure I’d worry too much about explanations, though. I do understand the point of the question you’re asking, and this is something I’ve wondered about, too. Surely, I’m also trying to understand things – I say to myself – so why is the idea of everything being explained objectionable to me? I’m not sure yet, except that I feel there are distinctions to be made somewhere. I mean, I feel the same kind of dilemma – theoretical, if you like, but emotionally it feels like a real dilemma – concerning ‘the meaning of life’. To have a meaning seems intolerable, since it then robs one of the freedom of interpretation, but not to have a meaning is intolerable in a different way. Also, I’ve always felt there’s something that smacks of cop-out to the assertion that you can “make your own meaning”. I kind of feel like there’s something that inevitably resists explanation, though, a kind of inherent stangeness to existence, like an air-bubble in wallpaper, that, when you flatten it out in one place, pops up somewhere else.Why worry?I’ve asked myself that question, too. One answer is that maybe we do shape reality itself in some way, in which case, I’d rather we didn’t shape a dreary reality.
Robin Davies writes:Sorry that last post went wrong for some reason! I’ll try again:>The ‘gap’, it seems to me, cuts both ways. On the one side, atheists accuse theists of explaining everything just by saying, “God did it”, and they call this blind faith. But their own fundamental faith seems to be that science will eventually explain everything. Do we know that science will explain everything? No. It is faith.Well in terms of explanation science has worked so far and religion hasn’t so science at least has the better chance of explaining everything. I don’t think all (or even most) scientists would claim that science will explain everything though. Every explanation reveals new mysteries. Anyway, we’re nowhere near that point so why worry?>The question here is really about explanation. I don’t care about ‘God’, as I’m not sure what the word means, but it seems to me that if, instead of saying ‘God’, we just say, ‘something very important but unexplainable’ then this puts the argument in a slightly different light. I’m not sure this is what theists mean, but to me, anyway, the ‘gap’ is exactly that: something very important and unexplainable. It’s not an attempt to explain things. You can’t explain things by saying that they’re unexplainable. It’s an attempt to say, “There’s more to life than going around explaining things.” Fair enough. That’s like Robert Aickman’s “reverence for things we can’t understand” and it’s fine in fiction. But in real life it’s a kind of full stop isn’t it? If you did encounter something like a ghost or telepathy or a gremlin then wouldn’t you wonder what it was and look for an explanation?
By the way, I would say that the reverence for the unexplainable is important in real life, too – not just in fiction. I’m just not sure where to mark a borderline, or how exactly.
Honestly, if I met a real goblin – if I was satisfied it was a real goblin, whether such satisfaction indicates its reality or my insanity or whatever – I think I’d be more taken up with thinking, “This is great! This is weird! Everyone said goblins were imaginary. That means I’ve finally entered the world of the imagination. Fantastic!!”, than with taking blood samples and sending them to the nearest laboratory. I suppose that’s just me.
I suppose humanity has to be denigrated in order to justify ‘progress’.
The odd thing is… this kind of denigration has different permutations not just in the idea of secular evolution towards a technological utopia (in which area it’s a bit of a paradox), but in almost every other area of human thought I can think of. The one area it doesn’t have much currency in, is in what might be called ‘politics’, which is interesting.In other words: The Christian idea of original sin = denigration. The Buddhist idea of selflessness = denigration. The materialist idea that humans are merely machines = denigration. Etc.But when, politically, people treat other people as the above concepts seem to suggest people should be treated – as unworthy, unimportant nobodies – the results are objectionable to everyone except tyrants. Justin Isis just sent me this:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ag-yGpGpkOII don’t speak French, so I don’t know what they’re saying, but there seems to be some disapproval of Josephine Baker jumping on to the stage midway through. That disapproval (it seems to me) is the “Who do you think you are?!” of the denigration I’ve described. But who wants to live in a world where everyone goes around saying, “Who do you think you are?” I approve entirely of Josephine Baker jumping onto the stage.