Category: Politics

On Science and Religion

In the previous discussion, Derek Jarvis asks about the “side issue” I mention there, concerning the relationship between religious thought and politics.  I’ve been scowling at my computer, trying to decide if I want to go there; it is going to get messy, and very likely in a way I won’t enjoy.  On the other hand, it is a valid question, and it was a little unfair of me to bring it up and then ask people not to talk about it.

So I’ll make this as concise as I can, then dive into the nearest foxhole.

Some believe that science and religion have separate “spheres” and can comfortably co-exist. I do not; I believe the methods are in conflict, even if, at a given point, an individual may be unaware of the conflict.  I further believe that scientific analysis is the only way to understand society well enough to consciously change it, and that conscious change is objectively necessary.

Another aspect can be expressed by example. The Eighth Commandment forbids stealing.  I believe the only way to save civilization will require at some point (at some not very distant point) that we expropriate the means of production. As Engels said, expropriate is another word for steal.  Someone who believes in the Eighth Commandment, when faced with that sort of crisis, must make the choice between rejecting an element of theological principle, and rejecting a social necessity.  I make no claims about which way a given person will jump; only that the choice will be there.

Does that help clarify matters?

 

My Feelings About Feelings

Some years ago, I kinda got into it with a few people on Making Light. I still don’t understand what the big deal was–we were only talking about religion and politics; why should that generate any heat?  (WARNING: Irony).

The discussion involved the relationship between the two, and my contention that, ultimately, to be a theist is, in some measure, to support reaction; if not now, then someday.

First of all, can we please not talk about that?  I bring it up only for context.  I might be full of shit on the subject; that isn’t the point right now.

What struck me so hard was when someone said, “I feel personally insulted by your comment.”

My reaction was, and still is, “What the fuck?”

Now, it isn’t as if I find the reaction completely befuddling.  I mean, if someone told me, “because you’re an atheist, you will someday become a child murderer,” I would, I’m sure, feel insulted.  No, what got me is that this person appeared to believe that was an answer.  I was croggled.  I am still croggled.  “Oh, well, you are insulted by my opinion about how the world works, therefore I must be wrong.”  What?  If I find it personally offensive that the speed of a falling body is independent of its speed parallel to the ground (which I do, by the way; it pisses the hell out of me) does that change how we do the calculations?

Sure, sometimes we feel insulted, and sometimes we feel attacked, just by what someone says about how things work. Of course we do; we live in this world, and who we are is innately tied to our understanding of where we fit in the world. Believing, “my religion makes me a better person,” is pretty vital; so it is quite natural that an attack on that will be insulting.  If we reverse that and apply it to me, yeah, sure, I’ll feel insulted.

But that has nothing to do with whether it is true. 

We are either going to share our feelings and try to make sure everyone feels good, or we are going to try to understand how the world works in order to change it.  Of course, there are times when what matters is that the people around you feel warm and accepted as much as possible.  Hanging out with friends, listening to music, many other activities that I love can be destroyed or harmed by an insulting comment at the wrong time.  But in the fight to understand the broader world, it absolutely amazes me that there are people who believe, “I feel insulted by your opinion,” is a reasonable part of the conversation.

The thing is, versions of this seem to be coming up more and more often.  Is it true, for example, that men and women have differences in their brains that, purely on biology, lead them to excel in different sorts of fields? I happen to think that’s a load of horseshit; or, at the very least, no one has ever come close to presenting a convincing argument.  But the answer to it lies in research, in understanding biology, in analyzing test results the way Cordelia Fine did in Delusions of Gender.  True or not, the fact that the position is offensive to women (which I think it is),  is not an answer to the argument.  (Caveat: If someone is taking the above position and claiming it is a defense of women, then pointing out that, in the end, it slanders women is entirely reasonable.  I trust everyone can see the difference).

If we are going to change the world,  if we are going to strike a blow against the oppression of women, then the first thing we need to strive for is the truth.   And whether someone feels insulted just doesn’t enter into it.

Please note that this is not a reference to any particular discussion going on here, or anywhere else. So I hope you don’t feel insulted.

Presidential Crime

I was listening to NPR yesterday. They were talking about the information the NSA was collecting on phone records.  In the course of the conversation, there was an offhand remark to the following effect: “Obama is doing the same thing Bush did, although now it may be legal.”

Now, there are a lot of places to go with this. We can discuss whether it actually is legal, and we can chuckle about how, in effect, we’re now in the fourth term of Bush’s presidency.   We can talk about how they skimmed past the “may be.”  But what hit me at once was something different: a journalist casually mentioned that a President of the United States had committed crimes, and then breezily went on to other matters. The fact that the President had committed a crime was treated (correctly) as simply something everyone knew, and at no point was there the least hint there could, would, or should ever be any sort of prosecution for it.

How far have we come?  Think about it.  A major news organization mentions in passing that a President has committed a crime, and it isn’t even worth a pause in the conversation.

Are you angry yet?  Disgusted?  Appalled?  I am.

 

On Language, Politics, and Why and How to Argue

Rhetoric.  Rhetorical devices.  Politics.

There’s been a discussion of free speech and censorship lately, falling into the usual camps of, “It isn’t censorship unless a government does it” (clearly nonsense), and overblown statements calling any criticism an attempt at censorship.  My issue isn’t with either of these, it is with the language used.

A few posts back I did a post in which I discussed various political camps using curing cancer as a metaphor.  Most people, I think, got what I was doing (a few didn’t, but that always happens). But when you do something like that, you aren’t trying to convince anyone of your position on the major issue. What I mean is, anyone who read that and had the reaction, “Oh, gee, he’s right. I’ll become a socialist now,” isn’t someone I want on my side.

The point of something like that is to draw some distinctions. Ideally, those who read it, while still not agreeing with me, went, “Okay, now I’m a little clearer on how he views the difference between a liberal and a pseudo-leftist.”  I consider that valuable. If someone who reads that finds himself, because of events in the real world, questioning his basic assumptions, then maybe some of that will come back and help clarify a few things.  And there’s a second purpose: to help things become more sharp and clear in my own mind.  And a third purpose: it is an argument with those who are in 95% agreement with me for the purpose of making it 96%.  (Also a fourth reason, because it made me smile, but let’s skip that one for now.)

The object of the exercise can be stated as follows: To make distinctions and differences in our minds accurately reflect, as much as possible, the differences and distinctions in the real world. I oppose liberals every bit as much as I oppose conservatives; but they aren’t the same.  I oppose pseudo-leftists as much as I oppose Libertarians; but the differences between them matter.

With that in mind, take another look at the second paragraph above.  In it, I say, “overblown statements calling any criticism an attempt at censorship.”  The trouble with that is, it is exactly what I ought to be showing, rather than simply stating it.  And by failing to do that, I pretty much remove all value from it.  The question is, where are the lines between criticism that attempts to clarify and sharpen issues, and an attempt to shut someone up, and when does the latter become censorship?  Now that is an interesting question, and one I’m going to ignore, because I want to talk about the more general case.

When does one refer to another by a derogatory label? That is, when is it correct to refer to someone as an imperialist, as a reactionary, as a pseudo-leftist? When two conditions apply: 1) it is accurate, and 2) the other is not whom you’re trying to convince of anything.

Were I to try to convince someone that his position was that of a pseudo-leftist, I would explain what I meant by the term, discuss the implications of it, and attempt to show how that person’s positions fit into that category.  When I, in another discussion, refer to someone as pseudo-leftist, I’m not trying to convince that person; my agenda is to make distinctions in the context of another discussion.  Does that make sense?

As part of the conversation mentioned above, some of the more extreme opponents of censorship (which is not, mind you, a bad thing to be) will refer to those who differ with them as “anti-speech” or “pro-censorship.”  What this tells me is, those people are not the intended audience. They are not who you are trying to convince of anything.  If your argument takes the form, “By taking position X, you lend support to excessive censorship because of Y,” then there is an effort to convince those people. If your argument takes the form, “The reason I object to the pro-censorship people is,” then you are attempting to make a different point, aimed at different people.

I bring it up because I sometimes see people using a derogatory label for positions they oppose, and then, apparently, trying to argue with those who hold those positions. This makes nothing more clear or sharp for anyone.  Following a friend’s Tweet, and then link to link to link, I recently came across some Men’s Rights Activists. Seriously, I have nothing to say to those people. I don’t want to convince them of anything. We have no common basis for action or discussion.  But if I did want to argue with them, I wouldn’t say, “The trouble I have with you sexists is…” because convincing them that that label applied would be exactly the goal.

Bottom line point: Do not enter into political discourse without knowing what you want to accomplish and why, after which you can give some thought to how.  “Because he’s wrong,” is not a sufficient reason.  Now, if I can just remember to apply that rule to myself, all will be well.

 

 

 

….and a Followup. Because Hegel.

Over on the previous rock, Jonas made a comment that I’ve been thinking about.  My reply got a bit long, so I’ll quote sections of it and reply here.

“I do generally agree with what you’re saying, but I think it’s become harder than it was before to talk about certain things – even for purely artistic reasons. I recently watched an interview with Frankie Boyle, one of my favourite comedians, and he said that the kind of edgy, often very political material that he does has great trouble finding a venue nowadays. The crisis of capitalism seems to have produced a panic in the powers that be, and they’ve taken much tighter control of the media. The changing role of the BBC, from mildly progressive and vaguely objective to right-wing government mouthpiece, is a good example of that. Yeah, you can go out and say whatever you want on the internet, but who’s going to actually hear it?”

Yes, you’re probably right about the increased difficulty in art that contains serious criticism of society. I think it is important to speak out on this, and to act on it as best we can.   Exactly how to fight it, I don’t know–that’s what a revolutionary party is for: to explain stuff like that to guys like me.  (Well, okay, that isn’t what it’s for, but it’s one thing it does).

‘On the other hand, I think mass entertainment may almost be the better place for this kind of material. I have become very suspicious of “activist” art, which seems to consist mostly of identity politics and cliquishness.’

And I certainly agree with that.

But there are reasons for it. It’s a class question, isn’t it? Artists emerge overwhelmingly from the middle class, just because of the degree to which the working class is denied access to culture. Hence, the concerns are going to be middle-class concerns, and so we find identity politics so prevalent.  At the same time, the hopelessness and cynicism of sections of the middle class are reflected in post-modernism.

On the one hand, this, I think, will to some extent correct itself as the mass movement of workers begins to be felt–a lot of that stuff will become irrelevant; the remaining supporters exposed as reactionaries; the best elements among the artists will find themselves drawn into the movement in their own way.

But, on the other hand, that does not mean we should be complacent about it–that we don’t have a duty to fight it. So, how do we do so? Well, polemics are always useful. But more to the point, we fight it in our work by (here I go again) telling the truth.

The point about identity politics and post-modernism is (in my opinion, of course): they’re lies.*  One tells us that divisions of race, sex, sexual preference, &c &c are fundamental and real; the other tells us that there’s no such thing as progress, and we can’t actually know anything.

You do not combat those by preaching. Seriously. “Well,” said Brad, “the problem with post-modernism is…” or you make up a character who supports identity politics just to show that person as wicked and misguided. That’s dumb. That’s bad art.

Always, always, always play fair with the reader, the characters, and the story. Always.

But if your world-view is truly a part of you, you don’t need the phony stuff. You will write stories in which people’s decisions actually matter. In which characters are real, and the things that connect and divide them are the things that actually do connect and divide human beings. In which consequences flow from actions, and in which it is worthwhile to struggle.  If you’re a materialist, you don’t have to preach materialism; without thinking about it, you’ll find that ideas in your stories–even fantastical ones–flow from being, are products of the “real world” you have created.  Not because that’s what you’ve decided to write, but because that is part of who you are.

Three big things can get in the way of writer being able to express truth to the best of his ability: lack of technique, lack of understanding, and trying to force ideology on the story, rather than letting the story work it’s way through on it’s own terms.  Those are where, in my opinion, an artist’s efforts are best spent.

 

*Full disclosure: My own work has some post-modern influence, just because I “went to school” with Zelazny.  But I take a Pre-Joycean approach: mock it, abuse it, kick it, and use any part of it you like.