I listened to "Crito" this morning for what may have been the tenth time, perhaps more. (Summary: Crito visits Socrates in prison and tries to convince him to escape into exile. Socrates will have none of it. He will obey the law--if not the people.) If this summary isn't detailed enough for you and you decide to catch up on your Socratic Dialogues on wikipedia or Spark Notes, you'll be told that this dialogue contains the seeds of Rousseau's "Social Contract." Perhaps. Probably. Every time I listen to Crito, I can't decide if I buy Socrates's argument--oh, not for me. I'd wave goodbye to Athens and be on my way to Thebes.
There's no doubt that as described in "Crito," that Socrates made the harder choice, though for him it was neither harder nor a choice. By his own understanding of ethics, it was entirely necessary for him to obey the law, even though the law be wrong. It is not the choice Gandhi would have made. Both admirable men. Both doing what they were sure was the right thing. Diametrically opposed to each other.
Does it make a difference that Gandhi opposed colonial rule? To a certain extent; I think Socrates might have accepted the difference had he not seen these as Athen's laws, but laws imposed from afar. Interesting, though, that Gandhi's goal was similar to Socrates's, not to throw off British rule--important, but actually a prereq to his real goal--to revive the spiritual lives of the people of India. And that was Socrates's goal as well, to make Athens a virtuous city. You're call as to which either were successful.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Friday, February 19, 2016
Planter Fasciitis
Got a case of planter fasciitis on a six mile run, barefoot,
on the beach at South Padre Island. It would start to get a little better and
I’d push it, and of course, it would get worse again. Was planning on signing
up for the McAllen Marathon, but let the registration deadline pass because I
wasn’t sure the planter fasciitis would clear up in time.
I cut my mileage in half, which helped, even though I’m
discouraged about the time it’s going to take to ratchet it back up.
I decided to get off the sidewalk, where the repetition of
movement isn’t doing my heel any good. I’ve come to the conclusion that planter
fasciitis is **** in the foot. It comes from repetition of the same movement.
That repetitive movement is reinforced when running on a smooth concrete
surface.
From now until the planter fasciitis is completely clear I’m
going to run on the grass in the greenbelt along Second Street. Grass is softer
than concrete, 17% softer according to an article in Runner’s World. More important than that, the surface is uneven,
changing the range of motion in my leg with every stride. It will take a couple
of days to see if this will work, or if I have to do that one thing that all
runners dread, take a week off.
Friday, February 12, 2016
The First Scene of The Republic a Retelling of the Trial of Socrates?
The Republic opens with Socrates, accompanied by Glaucon returning from the port of Athens to the main city. He is overtaken by Polymarchus and his companions, who laughingly tells Socrates that they are many and stronger and that he must accompany them. Socrates asks if he could persuade Polymarchus and his companions to let him go. Polymarchus replies, "But can you persuade us, if we refuse to listen to you?"
Though this exchange is done in jest, the parallel with the trial of Socrates is unmistakable; though the vote as close, many chose not to listen to Socrates's "Apology."
Is it a coincidence that Polymarchus, like Socrates, was forced to drink hemlock? The dates work out (Republic written in about 380 BCE; Polymarchus's death about 405 BCE.) Plato's readers would have know the history, and the parallel.
Socrates goes with Polymarchus to his house and has a conversation with Polymarchus's father, Cephalus. The gist of the conversation is whether wealth is beneficial in old age. Cephalus tells Socrates that wealth is beneficial for a man who has lived a just life, but not for one who has not. I freely admit that I may be reading more into this than Plato intended. Nevertheless, I cannot shake the idea that this exchange is a statement on Athens, her wealth, and her lack of justice.
The final parallel is the discussion of justice between Socrates and Polymarchus on the nature of justice. Polymarchus, quoting Simonides, says that justice is the repayment of debt. Socrates, of course, will have none of that, slowly backing Polymarchus into a corner in which Polymarchus can no longer defend his own interpretation of Simonides, that repayment of debts means doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies. Eventually Socrates gets Polymarchus to admit that "the injuring of another can be in no case just."
Enter Thrasymachus, who angrily exclaims, "I say that justice is nothing other than the advantage of the stronger." This is certainly the "justice" of the trial of Socrates.
Though this exchange is done in jest, the parallel with the trial of Socrates is unmistakable; though the vote as close, many chose not to listen to Socrates's "Apology."
Is it a coincidence that Polymarchus, like Socrates, was forced to drink hemlock? The dates work out (Republic written in about 380 BCE; Polymarchus's death about 405 BCE.) Plato's readers would have know the history, and the parallel.
Socrates goes with Polymarchus to his house and has a conversation with Polymarchus's father, Cephalus. The gist of the conversation is whether wealth is beneficial in old age. Cephalus tells Socrates that wealth is beneficial for a man who has lived a just life, but not for one who has not. I freely admit that I may be reading more into this than Plato intended. Nevertheless, I cannot shake the idea that this exchange is a statement on Athens, her wealth, and her lack of justice.
The final parallel is the discussion of justice between Socrates and Polymarchus on the nature of justice. Polymarchus, quoting Simonides, says that justice is the repayment of debt. Socrates, of course, will have none of that, slowly backing Polymarchus into a corner in which Polymarchus can no longer defend his own interpretation of Simonides, that repayment of debts means doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies. Eventually Socrates gets Polymarchus to admit that "the injuring of another can be in no case just."
Enter Thrasymachus, who angrily exclaims, "I say that justice is nothing other than the advantage of the stronger." This is certainly the "justice" of the trial of Socrates.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Hume: Inductive vs. Deductive Reasoning
In An Inquiry Concerning Human Understanding, Hume distinguishes between demonstrative
, or a priori reasoning, and experience, or inductive reasoning, a distinction that I find fascinating. He argues that once you have figured out the math of the circumference of a circle, you know everything you need to know about every circle that ever existed or will exist. "Circle" is a universal, discoverable through reasoning.
He then writes about one billiard ball striking another. Hume argues that one such event cannot tell you anything without multiple repetitions of the same event: inductive reasoning. Of course, math and science (physics) have advanced to the point that we can now make the same kinds of predictions about a billiard ball as we can about a circle. However, we gain that understanding through induction rather than deduction, experience (augmented by scientific instrumentation) rather than reason.
Here's the passage:
"The conclusions which it draws from considering one circle are the same which it would form upon surveying all the circles in the universe. But no man, having seen only one body move after being impelled by another, could infer that every other body will move after a like impulse. All inferences from experience, therefore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning7." (V.1.36)
There's are some interesting word choices in this passage. Notice that "conclusions" about a circle are drawn by "it." The "it" in this passage is reason, knowledge that precedes human understanding, that simply is.On the other hand, "men" infer. We might quibble about distinctions between found and constructed knowledge, particularly since the physics of the billiard ball can eventually be discovered by science.
The last line, though, that "inferences from experience," that is inductive reasoning, is a function of custom rather than reasoning, limits "reasoning" to a very narrow band of knowledge, that which can be known inside the head of the reasoning animal, that needs no outside confirmation. Not sure what to make of this yet, though I keep thinking about Spinoza's Ethics, which is based entirely on reasoning about God.
He then writes about one billiard ball striking another. Hume argues that one such event cannot tell you anything without multiple repetitions of the same event: inductive reasoning. Of course, math and science (physics) have advanced to the point that we can now make the same kinds of predictions about a billiard ball as we can about a circle. However, we gain that understanding through induction rather than deduction, experience (augmented by scientific instrumentation) rather than reason.
Here's the passage:
"The conclusions which it draws from considering one circle are the same which it would form upon surveying all the circles in the universe. But no man, having seen only one body move after being impelled by another, could infer that every other body will move after a like impulse. All inferences from experience, therefore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning7." (V.1.36)
There's are some interesting word choices in this passage. Notice that "conclusions" about a circle are drawn by "it." The "it" in this passage is reason, knowledge that precedes human understanding, that simply is.On the other hand, "men" infer. We might quibble about distinctions between found and constructed knowledge, particularly since the physics of the billiard ball can eventually be discovered by science.
The last line, though, that "inferences from experience," that is inductive reasoning, is a function of custom rather than reasoning, limits "reasoning" to a very narrow band of knowledge, that which can be known inside the head of the reasoning animal, that needs no outside confirmation. Not sure what to make of this yet, though I keep thinking about Spinoza's Ethics, which is based entirely on reasoning about God.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
A run in Bastrop State Park
Two fires hit this area, the Bastrop County Complex fire in 2011, and the Lone Pines fire in 2015. Most of the trails I ran on covered land devastated by the Bastrop County Complex Fire.
A placard at one trail head said that the loblolly pines had been growing in the area for 18K years.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
What Runners Are Thinking
According to this article in The Atlantic, runners are thinking trivial thoughts, about their pace, their pain, traffic. The conclusion the article comes to is that onlookers shouldn't assume runners have entered some zen state of mind in which time and space become one, or disappear. They're just thinking about how hungry they are.
The problem in this conclusion can be found in juxtaposition of the phrases "zen state of mind" and "What they're thinking." A zen state of mind is a state of "not thinking." So, okay, they asked runners to record what was going through their brains while running; on the surface, they got trivialities. What I question is the assumption that those surface thoughts are the whole of the running experience.
It is the experience, not the thoughts, that bring me back to the trail every day. There is something internal, something well below the level of conscious thought that is happening while I'm running. And, whether I'm thinking about moon pies or not doesn't touch that experience.
The problem in this conclusion can be found in juxtaposition of the phrases "zen state of mind" and "What they're thinking." A zen state of mind is a state of "not thinking." So, okay, they asked runners to record what was going through their brains while running; on the surface, they got trivialities. What I question is the assumption that those surface thoughts are the whole of the running experience.
It is the experience, not the thoughts, that bring me back to the trail every day. There is something internal, something well below the level of conscious thought that is happening while I'm running. And, whether I'm thinking about moon pies or not doesn't touch that experience.
Friday, November 6, 2015
The 18th Century Meets the 21st Century
This e-mail exchange between Dr. Randall Monty and myself:
Me: “Can you add Graduate Recruiting to the schedule?”
Monty: “Absolutely.”
Me: “Been listening to Hume lately. He's got me convinced that nothing is absolute.”
Monty: “One of these days, we'll get you into the twentieth century!”
Me: “Bud, I'm living in the future. The Twenty-First Century.”
Monty was kidding me about my habit of listening to what has been derisively referred to as “dead, white males.” And I often think he has a point. There’s so much interesting stuff out there. But, of course, 21st Century writing isn’t in the public domain, so isn’t available on librivox, the website I download audio books from, and Amazon doesn’t record audio for the books I’m interested in, because they don’t sell enough to justify the expense.
The exchange between Monty and myself made me think about the intersection of the 18th Century, when Hume wrote, and 21st Century technology that makes it possible for me to listen to his words. What I do wouldn’t be possible in the 20th Century. Librivox just celebrated its 10th anniversary this year. They didn’t exist in the 20th Century. Neither did the smart phone that allows me to access their site while running. True, I remember listening to cassette recording on the thirty-minute drive to school every day back in the 20th Century. But I wasn’t a runner then.
So, the technology of the 21st Century makes it possible for me to connect with a mind from the 18th Century in a way I would not be able to in written form. I’m not simply talking here about the convenience of being able to get some good reading in while I’m running. If all I was looking for was more reading time, I would listen to these writers on long drives as well. But I don’t, though I’m not sure why there is a difference. Ah, but there does seem to be a difference.
I’m not arguing something as strong as the “oral” theory of Havelock or Ong. Nevertheless, there are some writers, and some writing, that opens up when heard. Plato is one such writer, Aristotle only sometimes so. The Nichomehean Ethics listens well, The Topics less well, Prior Analytics, not at all. William James’s Pragmatism is a delight to listen to; Essays on Radical Empiricism is almost incomprehensible, even though I read it long before I tried to listen to it. Kant? Impossible.
Why those differences, both between listening and reading, and between various authors and works? I’m not entirely sure. When I first started listening to Plato, I thought his writing was accessible because the dialogues were written to be heard; the dialogue format encourages us to be listeners rather than readers. After listening to other writers who are firmly entrenched in textuality, I’m not so sure. Perhaps I’ll eventually come up with a theory. Perhaps not. I will keep running and listening though.
Me: “Can you add Graduate Recruiting to the schedule?”
Monty: “Absolutely.”
Me: “Been listening to Hume lately. He's got me convinced that nothing is absolute.”
Monty: “One of these days, we'll get you into the twentieth century!”
Me: “Bud, I'm living in the future. The Twenty-First Century.”
Monty was kidding me about my habit of listening to what has been derisively referred to as “dead, white males.” And I often think he has a point. There’s so much interesting stuff out there. But, of course, 21st Century writing isn’t in the public domain, so isn’t available on librivox, the website I download audio books from, and Amazon doesn’t record audio for the books I’m interested in, because they don’t sell enough to justify the expense.
The exchange between Monty and myself made me think about the intersection of the 18th Century, when Hume wrote, and 21st Century technology that makes it possible for me to listen to his words. What I do wouldn’t be possible in the 20th Century. Librivox just celebrated its 10th anniversary this year. They didn’t exist in the 20th Century. Neither did the smart phone that allows me to access their site while running. True, I remember listening to cassette recording on the thirty-minute drive to school every day back in the 20th Century. But I wasn’t a runner then.
So, the technology of the 21st Century makes it possible for me to connect with a mind from the 18th Century in a way I would not be able to in written form. I’m not simply talking here about the convenience of being able to get some good reading in while I’m running. If all I was looking for was more reading time, I would listen to these writers on long drives as well. But I don’t, though I’m not sure why there is a difference. Ah, but there does seem to be a difference.
I’m not arguing something as strong as the “oral” theory of Havelock or Ong. Nevertheless, there are some writers, and some writing, that opens up when heard. Plato is one such writer, Aristotle only sometimes so. The Nichomehean Ethics listens well, The Topics less well, Prior Analytics, not at all. William James’s Pragmatism is a delight to listen to; Essays on Radical Empiricism is almost incomprehensible, even though I read it long before I tried to listen to it. Kant? Impossible.
Why those differences, both between listening and reading, and between various authors and works? I’m not entirely sure. When I first started listening to Plato, I thought his writing was accessible because the dialogues were written to be heard; the dialogue format encourages us to be listeners rather than readers. After listening to other writers who are firmly entrenched in textuality, I’m not so sure. Perhaps I’ll eventually come up with a theory. Perhaps not. I will keep running and listening though.
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