Monday, January 28, 2013

Breaking point

Here’s a bit of Aristotle De Caelo 2.13:
ὥσπερ ὁ περὶ τῆς τριχὸς λόγος τῆς ἰσχυρῶς μὲν ὁμοίως δὲ πάντῃ τεινομένης, ὅτι οὐ διαρραγήσεται, καὶ τοῦ πεινῶντος καὶ διψῶντος σφόδρα μέν, ὁμοίως δέ, καὶ τῶν ἐδωδίμων καὶ ποτῶν ἴσον ἀπέχοντος· καὶ γὰρ τοῦτον ἠρεμεῖν ἀναγκαῖον. 
This is like the hair that is stretched strongly but equally at every point at will not break, or like the case of the person who is intensely but equally thirsty and hungry, but who is equally distant from the food as from the drink – for he will necessarily stay put. 
Aristotle is interested in various explanations for why the earth stays where it is. He is discussing the idea that it stays where it is because of homoiotēs, i.e. because it is no closer to this edge of the cosmos that to the opposite edge and so has no more reason to move this way than that… Here are two other arguments of the same type.

I asked an engineer friend about the example of the hair. He said, first of all, that it is a silly example because as things are there will always be variations along the length of a hair or wire which mean that it will be weaker in one place than in another. This seemed to me to be a very unhelpful reaction since I wasn’t really interested in the facts of the matter. Just suppose that there were no such variations: this is a perfect and perfectly homogeneous hair or wire. Then what? He sighed and tried to leave. But I made him answer what he obviously thought was a very silly question. The answer I eventually got was that at a certain point the hair or wire would break at each and every place where there was a break between the atoms or molecules. This wouldn’t be of much interest to Aristotle, of course, who was convinced that atomism is a daft idea.

Then I wondered about the example of the person who is equally—and intensely—hungry and thirsty. There are obviously other versions of this (e.g. Buridan’s ass) but I like the detail in this version, particularly the idea that the opposing desires are for different objects but that the different objects are (i) desired with equal intensity and (ii) equally easy or equally difficult to obtain. There is no more reason to slake my thirst before satisfying my hunger than there is to satisfy my hunger before slaking my first. So, the argument goes, if I have no reason either to slake my thirst first or satisfy my hunger first I do neither – until, at least, one desire gets larger than the other or someone helpfully takes away the tray of biscuits and I then get released from my torture and pick up the mug of tea.

Here’s a thought: suppose this kind of reasoning is correct. Does it offer a way of avoiding acting in a way you know is contrary to your best interests? Suppose you know you’re the kind of person who over-indulges in puddings. One way to help yourself to do the right thing is to cultivate an equally intense desire for something else and make sure you have an equally easy-to-hand supply of all the different things you desire. This sounds like it might be more fun than Plato’s answer that you have to make sure you train your desires properly, have the desire for what is genuinely good always in command etc. etc. Instead, you should combat the potentially damaging desire by cultivating lots of other competing and equally intense desires. The just make sure that all of these competing desires are equally easy to satisfy.  You run the risk of never doing anything at all, but at least you won’t act in accordance with a damaging desire.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Policy question

I've just turned down a request to referee an article submitted to a journal because the (helpful) abstract made it clear that much of the argument was aimed at refuting something I wrote. Is that the right decision?  I was concerned I was precisely the wrong person to give the submission a fair assessment because, although I wrote about this stuff a long time ago, I wasn't sure I could give the criticisms a fair hearing. 

Does anyone else have a policy/view/thought about this?

Monday, January 21, 2013

What will I want?

There was an interesting column in the paper on Saturday by Oliver Burkeman.  It discusses the difficulties we all have in realising that we will change over time.  It's easier to recognise the fact that our characters, preferences, desires, and the like once used to be rather different from how they are now.  But we all tend to think that the way we are now is likely to be stable over time in a way that we know our past character was not.

Here is a link to the paper in Science by Jordi Quoidbach, Daniel T. Gilbert, and Timothy D. Wilson that sets out the research and the main conclusions.

Here is the abstract:
We measured the personalities, values, and preferences of more than 19,000 people who ranged in age from 18 to 68 and asked them to report how much they had changed in the past decade and/or to predict how much they would change in the next decade. Young people, middle-aged people, and older people all believed they had changed a lot in the past but would change relatively little in the future. People, it seems, regard the present as a watershed moment at which they have finally become the person they will be for the rest of their lives. This “end of history illusion” had practical consequences, leading people to overpay for future opportunities to indulge their current preferences.
I find it interesting because I have been thinking about prudential reasoning and, in particular, about extreme forms that recommend that our plans, decisions, and so on ought to take into account the consequences for our well-being throughout the remainder of our lives.  If it does not matter when a benefit or a harm happens within my life, then I have no reason to favour nearer rather than further goods, for example.  But if the 'End of History Illusion' holds, then this is one more psychological obstacle to making the right kinds of decisions, on this temporally neutral model.  Not only is it difficult to imagine how our character, plans, preferences and the like will alter over the remaining period of our lives, but we apparently suffer from the illusion that the character etc. we currently have is the one on which we should base decisions and plans from the remainder of our lives.  And in this we are very likely to be mistaken.

Tough, isnt' it?

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Never go back?

I've been spending the last few days trying to get some thoughts together about a section of Diogenes Laertius book nine (9.67-73) where he mentions various earlier philosophers that were apparently admired by Pyrrho and then lists some poets and philosophers who might be thought to anticipate Pyrrhonism in one way or another.  It's all for an interesting conference in October.  (That will also be the first conference I will attend via video-conferencing, because it's mostly happening in New York and I can't get away in the first week or so of our term.)


Anyway, it's an odd feeling going back to some things that I haven't thought about very much since I wrote about them in my PhD.  When I look back it's quite amazing how much I must have read and how learned some of the footnotes seem.  Good job they are there, though, because so long as I have sufficient confidence in my former self I can shortcut what would have been a much longer job getting sorted all the tricky business of the scholarship on Diogenes' sources.

I'd prefer to be able just to write about Diogenes and to talk about what he is doing, but unfortunately sometimes it is hard to discern any clear organisation on his part and you do have to start wondering about just what has been cut and pasted together to end up with the text as we have it.

So, some of this at the moment seems quite slim pickings.  But you never know, perhaps inspiration will strike soon.


Tuesday, January 08, 2013

What Plato needs is a jazz background

Happy new year.  This amazing track was posted recently on The Philosophy Smoker.  It's Sidney Poitier reading Jowett's translation of the Cave simile from Republic VII against a jazz background.



Nice.

But that's not all.  There's a whole album of this stuff out there.



This is from it too, I think.  Part of the Apology.

Smooth.