Chapter 2: The Embodied Mind

Chapter 2: The Embodied Mind

Thesis #5: One’s experience is phenomenological in nature and derived from the senses; the development of the mind and our understanding of the universe is therefore derived from sense experience and interpretation of said experience

In the previous chapter1, I established that all knowledge is experiential. Even matters of “divine revelation”, ESP, or any other alleged spontaneous acquisitions of knowledge are still experiential in nature, as one is still experiencing such an event within their own mind, regardless of whether or not it is actually happening in a manner consistent with how one perceives it taking place. When we first addressed this state of affairs, it was in the context of one being solely informed by experience. In this instance, we are approaching it from an incrementally more nuanced position: that one’s experience is phenomenological in nature and derived from the senses.

Man has an inborn faculty of intellect. The intellect is a complex and frustratingly mysterious thing; I will describe it in as concrete and simple terms as possible. In the words of medieval philosophers, the intellect is the capacity to which matters of fact make themselves apparent, “like a landscape to the eye”2. This is the primary faculty by which one experiences the world, providing man with direct apprehension of the things around him. Essentially, intellect is the seed containing the mind, the ratio3 within man. This is seen in an infant as he begins to focus on various elements within his environment and as he gathers rudimentary sense data.

With sufficient time and experience, the capacity (seed) of intellectus can grow into the faculty of reason. Again, using the medieval scholars, “Ratio is the power of discursive, logical thought, of examination, of definition and drawing conclusions.”4 A more modern and specific definition would be, possessing the qualities of, or capacities for, self-awareness and a fundamental potential to learn and think logically”. The manner in which the intellect receives those experiences is sensational5; an infant may have a very basic set of instinctual “programs” by which they “know” how to feed, breathe, cry, and squirm, but they do not even have control over the movements of their own limbs, let alone any cognitive faculties. The intellect allows the infant to begin gaining control of their movements through the repeated cycle of stimulus and response in each of its limbs. Through prolonged exposure to patterns in environmental stimuli, the infant begins to expect the patters to continue in the same manner: the first fledgeling sparks of reason.

Before continuing to analyze the relationship between intellect and reason, it would be prudent to expand on thesis number two. “Reason dictates one’s understanding of the universe.” Reason, or the ratio we defined above, is a uniquely human experience. As mentioned previously, animal “experience” is nothing more than a perpetual cycle of stimulus and response. Conversely, humans have the experience of experiencing; or rather, the intellect serves as an intermediary step between stimulus and response. The intellect, as it develops into reason, begins to identify apparent patterns and categories. This pattern recognition is not infallible6, but is the basis of all human experience. While reluctant to abandon his skepticism, Bertrand Russell expresses a very similar and more detailed opinion as this in his Problems of Philosophy7. His term for this process, which I will borrow, is “induction”.

Following induction, both Russell and I approach “deduction”. Deductive reasoning, also called syllogistic reasoning, are matters of logical calculation. Through induction, one can begin to assume patterns, and can even express them syllogistically. “If the stove top is red, it is hot” is a simple premise, which can be derived from simple experiences. Upon witnessing that the stove top is in fact red, one can assert, “if the stove is red, it is hot. The stove is red. Therefore it is hot.”. This is an assertion which is derived from a combination of experience and reason. However, no degree of experience can account for the initial element of reason that dictates that such a syllogism is possible, let alone reliable. Modern research into early human development, though, has discovered that there are strong indications of innate mathematical reasoning within infants. I assert that these mathematical operations are an example of that very intellectus earlier mentioned. Ultimately, mathematics is an expression of logic in it’s purest form8, meaning that logic is something more than just a mere brute fact9: it is a faculty inherent to man.

Deduction can express hypotheses beyond the realm of immediate experience. While our first example was purely experiential and practical, a brief survey of the philosophical tradition will show that deductive reasoning can be (and is) applied to every imaginable circumstance. The accuracy of these deductions is wholly contingent on two virtues, the accuracy of premises as they relate to reality and its adherence to what Russell calls the”Laws of Thought”10. They are as follows:

  • The law of identity: ‘Whatever is, is.’
  • The law of contradiction: ‘Nothing can both be and not be.’
  • The law of excluded middle: ‘Everything must either be or not be.’

In other words, the “Laws of Thought” is another manner of describing the principle of non-contradiction. The best formulation I have seen of the PNC to-date is, “The logical principle that something cannot both be and not be in the same mode at the same time.”

We are fortunate that we are inherently conditioned such that these principles are immediately apparent to us as they are, themselves, unprovable. Our experiences can serve to reinforce these principles and, through their applications, prove their utility even if one cannot prove them in themselves. Through experiences of particular instances, we can come to a greater understanding of the nuances of such a simple and self-apparent set of principles. All the laws of reason, which will be explained and elaborated as they become pertinent in this work, are simply expressions of the particular nuances of the PNC.

The more abstract or complex lines of deductive and inductive thought are no doubt somewhat removed from immediate experience, either by way of their conceptual nature setting them apart from the physical world or by speaking of physical events that are not within a proximate vicinity to the one deducing. This does not make the reasoning any more or less valid. For example, one can engage in mathematical exercises concerning triangles without referring to any actually existing instances of a triangle. Another instance would be a deduction that determines all kangaroos are mammals, even if one has never seen one before (and isn’t likely to… how many people go to Australia, really?). Both of which are valid regardless of whether the one doing the deducing is immediately experientially present to the subject matter or not.

These rules of logic and their applications obtain in such a manner that renders relativism (in all but its softest forms) impossible. Something is said to “obtain” if it is necessarily true in every instance, such as triangles having three sides or the PNC. I say that these obtain in such a way so as to render relativism impossible because relativism is, fundamentally, a denial of objective truth. Extreme relativism denies all objective truths whereas softer forms only deny particular categories of truth such as moral truths. This denial necessarily results in violations or denials of the PNC. Any instance in which one says, “there is no objective truth,” is an instance in which they are categorically denying categorical statements. This is an age-old objection to relativist thinking11 which has simply been hand-waved by the proponents of relativism. Admittedly, there are more refined and delicate relativist arguments, but they all fall prey to this fallacy at some point or another.

Thesis #6: The mind is an embodied entity; all language and imagining is clearly based in bodily experience and all imaginable entities outside the immediate physical world are conceptualized in a sensational metaphor.

This experiential and embodied basis of our knowledge is clearly evident in our language. Every aspect of our imagination physical in nature. It is fitting that, when discussing material circumstances, one should use material language. For instance, “that dog is sitting under the tree.” That statement can be a literal expression of a matter of fact. However, while it may feel intuitive, the same material language is used to express abstract concepts. For instance, “The prospect of war weighs heavy on my heart.” In this case, “the prospect of war” is immaterial and possesses no weight as a result. Additionally, one’s heart is unaffected by some immaterial state of affairs external to the person in whose chest it resides. I do not mean to claim that the above statement is devoid of meaning or veracity, but wish to illustrate the metaphorical nature in which we express immaterial concepts. While I lack the space and attention span to enumerate the various metaphorical uses of material language in the style of Wittgenstein, I contend that there is no instance of using language in a literal and comprehensible manner when expressing an immaterial state of affairs.

Upon brief inspection, I see three common uses of embodied language as referencing phenomena metaphorically. Firstly, it is used with regards to invisible material things, many of which we see the effects of but never the things themselves. Secondly, it is used with regards to metaphysical or spiritual12 entities. Thirdly, we employ embodied language with regards to ontological, or divine, concepts13. It would be prudent to, at least exemplify each of these categories and the relationships between them.

Many will object to me asserting that we use embodied language with regards to material objects metaphorically. “Of course we use material language when speaking of material things!” they say, “why would it be a metaphorical use?” With some invisible material things, like most gasses or electrical currents, metaphorical language in unnecessary; it is literally the case that air can push, pull, heat, or cool things as well as electric currents14 and the like. However, in the case of more esoteric fields such as particle physics or quantum mechanics, we do use physical language metaphorically. A couple easy examples would be the “color” of quarks or the “spin” of particles. Quarks are too small to be directly perceived by way of light and color, but the choice of “colors” provide certain useful conceptual assumptions based on our knowledge of actual colors. The same type of metaphor applies to the “spin” of particles, providing those that study and discuss these things with applicable and comprehendable language to do so even if the terms are literally meaningless is such a context.

Admittedly, I have not yet allowed metaphysical or ontological existants15 into this framework but that doesn’t disallow this analysis of language to enter into our discussion. Even if such immaterial things do not actually exist, we still speak of them and the manner in which we speak of them is indicative of the point I am making presently. Metaphysical entities, such as the principles of logic which were discussed earlier or the fundamental laws of physics, are frequently discussed in the language of math or logic; however, they are frequently expressed in physical language in order to make it practically useful. In the case of a particle’s “spin”, quantum particles travel along vectors as if they have angular momentum, like a spinning object, despite not necessarily spinning. Additionally, in the case of non physical narratives, whether fictional or real, such as dreams, out-of-body experiences, revelations, ghosts, angels, etc. are expressed in physical metaphor. An easy example would be the common narrative which occurs in reports of out-of-body experiences, “I was outside my body, kind of floating above it. I was there, but I wasn’t; I could see everything, but not like one does with their eyes. I was also in the next room over and still inside my body at the same time. I could see a long, dark tunnel, but it wasn’t really there, with a light at the end.” The only intelligible manner in which we embodied creatures can describe a circumstance which was clearly non-spatial and non-bodily is by use of spatial and visual language in an approximate metaphor.

Before we discuss ontolocal language, we must first define “ontology”. Ontology, as it is frequently used, is typically assumed to mean “the philosophy of hierarchy” or “the study of existants”. In my usage, ontology is best defined as “the philosophy of that which precedes physics and metaphysics”. This means that there are ontological commitments inherent within the fields of physics and metaphysics which, themselves, require investigation. These commitments typically involve the status of things as either existing or not, the relationships and nature of substances and logical principles.

As one can assume from the above definition, ontological language tends to be complex and ambiguous at times. This area of study tends to involve exclusively mathematical concepts, the nature of eternity/infinity, discussions pertaining to God, and ideas16. Not one of the things on that list are material or sensual things. Typically, in the case of God, anthropomorphic language has become so prevalent so as to make caricatures of the actual concepts themselves (ie. God is a bearded angry old man in the sky who smites people for petty acts of impoliteness.) Not one of those terms are easily applicable to ontology, let alone accurate metaphorical language for ontological concepts. However, this gross abuse of language does not detract from the fact that the only way a human can grasp such concepts as infinity, especially when attempting to avoid instantiating an infinite17, is through metaphorical use of embodied language.

Additionally, we, as (apparently) willing creatures, tend to use mindful language to express the behavior of non-willing and/or necessary beings. Where we may have refined our language in physics since Empedocles, “Things fall because like things desire to be proximate to like things,”18 we certainly still fall into this trap. Again, it is most common in the more esoteric areas of physics and in ontological discussions, such as particles “seeking out each other” or being “entangled” despite lacking a will or an actual entangling medium. That doesn’t change he fact that we use a language that is limited to embodied experience as a metaphor for more advanced concepts.

There is yet another likely mistake that one can make in reading this chapter. That mistake would be assuming that I am conflating the mind with the body (or the brain). I will not make a case to either materialism, idealism, or substance dualism here. Instead, I intend to explore the manner in which we express such concepts linguistically.

One of the most interesting cases of language operating in an unexpected manner is with regards to the self. For example, phrases commonly used are “my body”, “my mind”, “my soul”, and “my self”. We speak of certain aspects of ourselves in the same manner we would speak of our property; “my car”, “my robot slave”, etc. This linguistic phenomenon implies two things. Firstly, it implies that one’s mind, body, soul, self, and property are each distinct entities which are not reducible to one or the other. Additionally, it implies that what exactly an individual is is either an amalgamation of the above listed possessives, or something radically distinct from them.

We will address the question of what exact relationship the mind and body have, whether they are the same thing, one reduced to the other, or as two distinct and intermarried elements, later in this book19. The additional question of what, precisely, the individual is will be addressed briefly, but it will require far more space and time in order to reach a meaningful answer than I have available in this work. It will also require more intermediary steps than the mere twenty needed to discuss the mind-body problem. For now, it will suffice to merely express the manner in which our mind is embodied, practically speaking.

For fear of being accused of making the same mistake that Nietzsche made,20 I feel compelled to leave a disclaimer at the end of this chapter. I recognize that being a young American, my sole focus in this chapter is the way an individual thinks and speaks in American English. However, I believe, based on my limited grasp of Latin and Japanese as well as my exposure to Hebrew, Greek, and Spanish, this argument still obtains in some manner or another in every human language, with some slight modifications.

95 Theses

1Ch1, “Epistemic Assumptions”

2 Pieper pg 139

3Reason

4 Pieper 139

Also, Thesis #22

5Pertaining to the senses

6A state of epistemic affairs where one in incapable of being wrong

7Russell, Problems of Philosophy chapter 6

8 citation

9Something that simply exists without the possibility of explanation

10Russell ch 7

11The discussion between Thrasymachus and Socrates in Plato’s Republic (Book one, Chapter one) is an easy example.

12 I am not equivocating the two, mind you

13 In this case, the two may at times be equivocated

14Also, electromagnetism

15Simply defined, “a thing which exists”

16 Not to mention imaginary things like unicorns and free national healthcare

17For an introductory example of this type of reasoning, I recommend reading “The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy”.

18Aristotle attributes such a claim to Empedocles in his work De Anima

19 Chapters 8 & 9

20Namely, being a philologist instead of something a little more… real.

Chapter 1: Epistemic Assumptions

Chapter 1: Epistemic Assumptions

Thesis #1: One is solely informed by experience

“We must, as in all other cases, set the apparent facts before us and, after first discussing the difficulties, go on to prove, if possible, the truth of all the common opinions about these affections of the mind, or, failing this, of the grater number and the most authoritative; for if we resolve both the difficulties and leave the common opinions undisturbed, we shall have proved the case sufficiently.”1 As a read through the canon of philosophy2 will evidence, there is a long-standing tradition of beginning with and stating atomic, self-apparent, facts followed by exploring the ramifications of accepting those facts. While some philosophers may begin with assumptions more apparent and verifiable than others, it remains the case that all worldviews are predicated on basic assertions which are made by the one (or group) which crafted said worldview.

This assertion is, itself, a self-apparent truth. There is no real way to prove that all reason is derived from immediate facts, only to disprove it. The principle of non-contradiction is one such principle: a thing cannot both be and not be in the same mode at the same time3. There is no way to conclusively prove this to be the case, but it is the foundation of all our reasoning. I assert that any example that could be presented contrary to this claim is either simply a convoluted example of my assertion or is an exercise in irrationality and absurdity4. I will choose to arbitrarily select one out of all the available examples of a beginning paradigm which attempts to circumvent this reality. A common line of reason in modern American society is the claim that “There exist, among men, a large percentage of bad actors who harm others. We wish to be protected from bad actors. Therefore we must place men in positions of authority over other men in order to protect them from bad actors.”5. Of course, in this case, there will undoubtedly be bad actors introduced into the aforementioned positions of authority, amplifying rather than mitigating the negative effects of bad actors in society.6 This is one of innumerable examples which demonstrate the impossibility of escaping the paradigm I have presented.

As can be assumed, these self-apparent facts are apparent only through the experience of the one to which the fact is apparent. Each of these (and all subsequent) experiential facts are, themselves, informed solely by experience. Even the most extremely outlandish claims to the reception of knowledge, like divine revelation or telepathy, are in their own way experiential. Ignoring whether or not it is possible or likely that one can have a vision or spontaneously altered awareness which is factual or true, what is guaranteed to be the case is that those who honestly make this claim have had an experience of such which has informed their worldview.

Reason, then, as the faculty by which one can analyze and make judgments about one’s environment, is ultimately derived from experience7. The experience of fundamental principles, like the PNC, allows one to generate the praxis8 of reason. By using the tools and flexing the muscles of the mind, one can begin to develop the faculty of reason.

Thesis #2: Reason dictates one’s understanding of the universe

One without reason, like an animal, exists in a perpetual cycle of stimulus and response. No different than a complex computer program, the sum of all an animal’s behaviors is dictated by a genetic, instinctual, rubric by which an animal eats when it is hungry, mates when it is fertile, and flees predators when threatened. Every nuance in their behavior is simply a property of their programming. This can lead to amusing circumstances when an animal’s conditioning is no longer appropriate for their environment, such as dogs refusing to walk through doorways due to certain cues which lead them to believe the door is closed or Andrew Jackson’s parrot swearing so profusely it must be removed from its owner’s funeral9. These amusing behaviors, though, are prime indicators as to the lack of a key characteristic which makes man unique from the animals: reason.

Both man and animals have experiences: certain events as perceived through the senses. However, man has the unique experience of experiencing that he is experiencing. In other words, “We are not only aware of things, but we are often aware of being aware of them. When I see the sun, I am often aware of my seeing the sun; thus ‘my seeing the sun’ is an object with which I have acquaintance.”10 Experience, itself, is clearly not sufficient, then, to be considered reason or a source of reason. Experience, as the animals have it (animal experience as I will refer to it), is little more than a sensational input to an organic calculator which produces a result. That result, even, is no more than an action of the body which, in turn, generates further sensational input. This cycle simply repeats itself thousands of times per minute, millions of minutes in succession, until the animal dies. The experience of man (or just “experience”, as I will call it), however, is different.

Man still experiences via the senses, but there is a slightly more complex process in operation after that initial sense experience. If a man is still in his infancy, is drunk, caught sufficiently off-guard, is mentally disabled, or is one of my critics (or is any combination of the above), it is incredibly likely that they will have a form of animal experience by which reason doesn’t enter the picture until some time after an instinctual and automatic response takes place. Even though that may be the case, there will be an opportunity later to reflect on the experience and interpret it as one wishes (though, at times, that opportunity is ignored). More commonly, an individual has the opportunity to process sense perceptions with a rational mindset, deliberating whether he should say a particular sentence or another while on a date, for example.

In this example of a date, one, we will name him Mike, can draw on experiences from the past to inform the present choice. Upon reflecting how poorly his last date went, Mike may opt to avoid describing in graphic detail what it feels like to shoot oneself in the leg over a veal entree… at least on the first date. This is an example of how one’s understanding is a direct result of one’s internal narrative. After experiencing the horror and disappointment of a first date ending abruptly and with no prospects of a second, Mike would have the rational faculty to reminisce over the experience in order to find a way to succeed in the future. Having reached an understanding that such behavior is not conducive to a successful date, he can choose to avoid that behavior in the future. This applies in all circumstances besides the aforementioned date. If, say, Mike were to decide to read this book, after reading a miserable and arrogant introduction, he may come to an understanding that this book is not worth it and return to watching football never to read philosophy again (that sorry bastard).

Of course, it is possible that one’s interpretation of an experience can be flawed. In the case of Mike, it’s possible that his earlier failed date had less to do with his choice of conversation and more to do with the fact that his would-be girlfriend was a vegan with a touch of Ebola. In the case of his current date, it is distinctly possible that his current would-be girlfriend is a red-blooded anarchist meat-eater who listens to Cannibal Corpse songs when she eats dinner at home. By misinterpreting previous experiences, Mike is going to spoil his chances with a real keeper. For this reason, I find it necessary to delineate between one’s subjective understanding of particular instances, which may or may not be inaccurate, and one’s faculty of understanding.

Thesis #3: One’s understanding of the universe dictates one’s behavior

As we addressed when discussing the differences between animal experience and actual experience, man behaves in a manner distinct from animals. Due to man’s faculty of reason, understanding and justification are elements which interject themselves between the phenomena of stimulus and response. In any instance of stimulus, a man must choose to assent to the stimulus and choose to respond. In the case of Mike, while reading my book, he would be exposed to the stimuli of mind-expansion, intellectual challenge, existential intrigue, and more. Being unaccustomed to such stimuli, our example, while incredulous of the stimuli, assents and then chooses to cease to read and retreat to the comforts of the familiar simulated manhood of football. In the case of a dog, however, whatever new stimuli it is exposed to are immediately either perceived through the filter of instinct or disregarded outright, much like a blind man being the recipient of a silent and rude gesture. As that stimuli is perceived, the dog’s instinct causes it to behave in one manner or another. For instance, being of domesticated genetic stock and trained to assist his blind owner in particular ways, he may maul the one performing the rude gesture, with no rational process involved, merely organic calculation.

This difference, however, does not mean that man is devoid of animal experience or instinct. As mentioned before, under certain circumstances, man can behave in a manner consistent with animal experience. As a matter of fact, it is the case that instinct may play, at a minimum, as much as half of the role in man’s experience and understanding. Man is clearly not the “tabula rasa” of Avicenna and Locke11. As I have asserted, the faculty of reason is inborn. Evidence exists to support my claim in that infants instinctively act on stimuli in order to feed, cry, swim, and flail their limbs; there are also contemporary scientific claims that the brain operates as an organic calculator, the evidence of this also exists in the behavior and brain structure of infants. Additionally, evolutionary psychologists have observed similar phenomena in grown adults concerning phobias, pain reactions, sexual attraction and many other areas of the human experience. As will be addressed later in this book, it is even possible that this rational faculty my argument hinges so heavily on is, in fact, nothing more than a uniquely complex form of animal experience12. Until such a time that I do address such claims, though, we will continue to operate under the belief that rationality exists per se.

Understanding and habituation, then, drastically impact one’s behavior because they are the medium by which one’s experience informs and dictates one’s behavior. Through experience of particular sensations, and the application of reason to those sensations, man can come to understand his environment. Through application of reason to any given circumstance of stimuli, he can then choose an action understood to be most appropriate in any circumstance. Habituation, additionally, impacts man through the instinctual inclination to maintain a certain consistency in one’s actions. In the case of Mike, this would result in choosing to watch sports over reading philosophy.

Thesis #4: The epistemic and phenomenological endeavors of philosophy (and, by extension, certain areas of physics which pertain to the human experience) are crucial to one’s understanding of the universe and one’s resultant behavior.

In choosing to watch sports rather than read philosophy, Mike is attempting to avoid the discomfort of a new experience for which he is ill-equipped. However, in avoiding that experience, Mike is attempting to shirk his need to engage in public discourse and exposure to culture. Whether or not he succeeds in such an endeavor is less important to us now than what such an experience represents. The experiences of public discourse and culture are key experiences which inform one’s understanding and behavior. Our example in the introduction to this book concerning the need for communication and language is a prime example of the fundamentals of public discourse and culture. “This mushroom bad,” clearly establishes certain cultural norms as well as informing one’s attitudes towards certain concepts. In the case of Mike, it could be a friend coaching him with dating advice or beer commercials during the football game altering his expectations of his date. If he had read my book, Mike would be more likely to succeed in his date, having better equipped himself with a tool set for working with the human condition.

These tools have been graciously provided for us through the long-standing traditions of philosophy, most notable in this instance would be epistemology and phenomenology. Through the study of knowledge and how man acquires knowledge13 and experiences and how man feels what he does,14 philosophy can aid significantly in one’s quest for understanding what and how he knows what he does and how to influence those around him. Most of what has been written in this chapter is lifted directly from discussions I have had regarding various works in epistemology and phenomenology. In this regard, I believe this work is a paradigm example of the assertion made, that one of the most crucial kinds of experience for the formation of one’s understanding is one of a social and philosophical nature.

A strong cultural and public formation of one’s understanding is crucial because a well-informed understanding can ultimately provide maximal utility to an individual and society15 whereas a poorly-informed understanding can effectively cripple one’s ability to develop their rational faculties or provide much utility to themselves or others. As was mentioned earlier, one’s subjective, personal understanding can be flawed. Some merely make a small error in their reasoning while others may be mentally disabled by either material means or due to a cripplingly misinformed understanding. The strongest influence to both the possibilities of an accurate understanding or mental disability is that public influence on the individual. As discussed in the intro, when done correctly, philosophy creates the circumstances most conducive to a well-informed worldview.

In this way, we see that one is solely informed by personal experience. That experience allows one do develop inherent faculties such as reason. Reason, in turn, allows one to analyze one’s experiences and engage one’s culture. This analysis generates an understanding and worldview within the individual, which also has a bearing on one’s habits as well. This understanding is the premise on which one makes a decision regarding how to behave in any given circumstance. As forming an accurate worldview is crucial to one’s successes, philosophy (the strongest candidate in this regard) is crucial to forming said worldview.

95 Theses

1Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (Oxford World’s Classics) p.118

2The widely accepted list of “most significant philosophers to-date”.

3We will explore the Principle of Non-Contradiction, or the PNC, more thoroughly in chapter 3: Orders of Knowledge.

4A claim which is logically self defeating, whose conclusions deny the very premises on which it is built.

5This is an example of how Philosophies written in the mid-17th century (Hobbes’ Leviathan) have percolated though the social consciousness for centuries and are no longer questioned.

6Additional examples and further exploration of absurdity can be found in Hobbes’ Leviathan, chapter 5.

7The next chapter will explore this concept more fully.

8The method by which one, through either experience or theoretical knowledge (“knowledge that”), can develop practical, active knowledge (“knowledge how”).

9 Volume 3 of Samuel G. Heiskell’s Andrew Jackson and Early Tennessee History

10“Problems of Philosophy” Bertrand Russell ch.5

11“Tabula rasa” refers to a “scraped tablet” or “blank slate”, evoking a description of the mind in which there is initially no knowledge or activity whatsoever.

12In Chapter 2: “The Embodied Mind”

13epistemology

14phenomenology

15In this case, I’m using the term “utility” in a very loose way. The best definition of “utility”, though, would be, “the capacity for a thing to provide or contribute to one’s flourishing.”

Introduction to the 95 Theses

Introduction

“A Philosopher’s 95 Theses”, a silly and audacious title for a work by a college dropout with little to no substantive endorsements. What is this work even supposed to be? This work is primarily an attempt to begin a systematized and traceable discussion concerning my particular brand of philosophy. Having spoken in various public forums, from in the classroom, to hosting salon discussions (thank you, Voltaire), to water cooler discussions, to arguing on Facebook (a noble means of communication, to be sure), teaching and tutoring homeschoolers, and managing a blog, I have found that many people in my generation and social stratum lack even rudimentary exposure to true philosophy or even formal logic. This isn’t the case for everyone, but a majority. Many times, people disagree with my statements or beliefs, not because of any logical or ideological error on my part, but rather a lack of understanding of how conclusions follow from premises. Ultimately, the discussions belie no understanding of the objective material at hand, but merely emotional attachments to already-existing prejudices as well as a fundamental lack of foundation from which they are arguing. When presented with this fact, others are wont to accuse me of the same. In this work, I hope to both soundly establish a defense from such accusations as well as begin to spread a culture of “lower-class intellectualism”: a culture of self-education and intellectual progress compatible with and available to “the lower class”, economically speaking. The first step of doing so would be to make something accessible and affordable available to what I call “my social stratum”, as well as simply raising awareness of alternatives to the current institutions which are fueled by big money and political agendas.

Clearly, as a starting place, this work is merely the beginning of what I hope to be an expansive and pervasive body of work. I hope to one day move beyond this project of establishing my foundations to making these concepts concrete and practical, providing a certain utility to all that would be open to a paradigm shift from our current postmodern sensibilities. From this body of work, I intend to expand and build on these ninety-five theses using the same style and methods contained herein, as well as writing a series of philosophically weighted articles concerning how one ought to live from day to day.

As most anyone who reads this work can tell, there is nothing groundbreaking or even original in this work, other than the arrangement of these ideas pulled from the atmosphere of the philosophical tradition. As a foundational work, I would expect this piece to be fairly conventional. Besides, as one prone to taking things too far and stating the outrageous, I want to give myself a moderate baseline from which to work in order to give some credence to my more extreme assertions which I have begun to publish already, alongside this work.

Despite the conventional content, I chose a particularly evocative title, (if I do say so myself). The title “A Philosopher’s 95 Theses” is an unabashed attempt to cash in on the fairy tale of Martin Luther’s dramatic succession from the Church. There is a narrative in which Luther made official his succession through the posting of the 95 Theses on the church doors as an overt “Eff-You” to the Church. While evidential support for this re-telling of history is nonexistent, the actual format and concept of the work itself is worthy of emulation. This is certainly the case if this is to be a beginning of a break from the status-quo of contemporary philosophy.

To be honest, the suggestion for the title and style for this work was presented to me by a friend who seemed quite earnest in wanting me to write my thoughts for his own edification. The suggestion was made primarily from a religious awareness of the Theses as a work of philosophy which could be easily adapted to a social media format. The concise nature of each thesis makes it easily tweeted in ninety-five segments. He leveled a challenge to me to post ninety five philosophical theses in ninety five days on Twitter and Facebook in order to encourage me to begin writing my ideas in a codified and discussion-friendly format. After a hilariously disorganized and epistemically infuriating four months, I had ninety-five theses, a ton of notes from discussions that were sparked (by the early theses, I think many friends and loved ones lost interest around #35 or so), and a new-found energy for attempting to publish something of worth.

The name and format of the original “95 Theses” has been lifted, but much of the argumentation and content has been abandoned, as Luther and I have very different intentions and circumstances concerning our respective works. Where Luther simultaneously affirmed and protested various Church doctrines and principles of theology, I intend to do the same for the philosophical doctrines which many contemporary philosophers have confessed. As such, rather than explicitly arguing the finer points of revelation and redemption, I intend to establish a solid foundation for later arguments in the philosophical realms.

As I will address in detail later, philosophy is a historical and holistic entity. Due to the nature of philosophy, I don’t expect to have come up with any original material, even if I know not where it has been written before. In the words of Descartes, drawing on Cicero, One cannot conceive anything so strange and implausible that it has not already been said by one philosopher or another.1 The ideas and truths of philosophy are simply “in the air”, as it were. One of the marks of truth in the philosophical world is its longevity. Many ideas that emerge in these theses, as well as my other works, are strongly rooted in classical philosophy as it has survived to this day.

I borrow heavily from existing works, as all philosophers do. I give credit where I can recall or research the original source, but it would be impossible to trace the genealogy of every idea which springs from my mind. This arrangement of concepts and their relationships is likely to be original, but the ideas themselves are old and deep-rooted. It is the perennial duty of the philosopher to water, trim and tend to the tree of knowledge which is philosophy: to hold the ideas in one’s mind, to criticize and correct errors, and generally allow the Truth to become known. Not a bonsai tree, but a veritable orchard of delicious and ripe fruits.

This work, hopefully, will establish a faux a priori2 foundation from which I can assert all of my later reasoning. Now is your chance, critics. Now is the time, in this work, to correct my premises, my errors, my moments of weakness, before I attempt to plumb the depths of truth in this vessel I have cobbled together. It will be too late, I am sure, when I arrive at a premise so incomprehensible and flawed to point out that I had overlooked a basic truth here and now.

I have grandstanded long enough on what philosophy is, without giving an appropriate definition and description of it. One should not assume that one’s use of terms is identical to that of one’s readers or opponents.

What is philosophy and why bother?

I believe that all who can rightly claim to be a philosopher will recognize certain fundamental characteristics which I believe to be necessary conditions for philosophy. It must be rational, as even the most blasé and stale philosophy assumes the basic precepts of logic, non-contradiction, and the ability of the mind to grasp truth. It must be consistent, as rationality simply can not allow for the possibility that the principle of non-contradiction is invalid. Therefore, all rational things are self-consistent. It must be empirically viable, as our experiences determine our understanding of the universe and, subsequently, the truth (the theses themselves will discuss this3); we cannot hold a belief which predicts or necessitates an experience divergent from what we actually experience. It must be universal, as any truth which is contingent upon circumstance is not a truth, but merely a fact.

In addition to these necessary attributes of the practice itself, I believe it must also produce certain results, fruits if you will, lest it be nothing but a mental exercise. Without ethical agency, this exercise would have no bearing on our lives as a prescriptive measure which, in the absence of an equivalent authority for prescription, would result in aimless and irrational lives, driven simply by the reptilian and hedonistic pleasures of our own genome. Without utility, this exercise would be superfluous to any other activity man would undertake; very few (and no sane) men would choose an impotent and laborious endeavor at the expense of something enjoyable and productive. Ultimately, without truth, there would be no rhyme or reason to the philosophical endeavor; if it were to be self- consistent and pursue truth, it must actually be capable of and ultimately accomplish the task of acquiring Truth. For these reasons, I assert with a fair degree of certitude that the purpose and goal of philosophy, as well as its necessary and sufficient conditions, (and, therefore its constituent elements, such as theology, physics, etc.) is to create an internally consistent, logically sound, empirically viable, and universal worldview which possesses ethical agency, utility, and (ultimately) Truth.

As mentioned in the above definition, philosophy possesses many constituent elements and tools of which it avails itself. As a reading of Aristotle or many of the enlightenment philosophers will support, I find that it is most natural to begin the philosophical journey in the realm of epistemology or phenomenology. A definition of each is in order, I believe, before addressing the practicality of such a method. Epistemology, taken from the Greeks, can simply be considered “the philosophy of knowledge and thinking, an explanation for how one thinks and knows”. Similarly, phenomenology would be “the philosophy of experience, an explanation for how one experiences and interprets those experiences”, also from the Greeks.

An approach starting from the angle of philosophy of thought and experiences does present some inherent issues, like the infamous discussion between Kant and Hegel:

“We ought, says Kant, to become acquainted with the instrument, before we undertake the work for which it is to be employed; for if the instrument be insufficient, all our trouble will be spent in vain… But the examination of knowledge can only be carried out by an act of knowledge. To examine this so-called instrument is the same thing as to know it. But to seek to know before we know is as absurd as the wise resolution of Scholasticus, not to venture into the water until he had learned to swim.”4

Hegel presents a very pragmatic alternative approach, which was quite popular with later Hegelian philosophers, like Marx. Essentially, he asserts that one ought to simply begin thinking and doing philosophy and will learn how one learns by witnessing one’s own experiences, much like how one learns to swim. As one can see, in reading the first ten or so theses, my assumptions and their descendants take a very Hegelian approach to early epistemology.

Amongst the historical traditions of philosophy, a debate as old as the pre-Socratic philosophies rages to this day: the theists vs. the atheists. Despite the greatest attempts of the moralist atheists, though, the arguments between theism and atheism ultimately deal with a more fundamental question. Whether or not there is a God is ultimately an argument as to whether there is any Truth at all. Again, as the theses address, either the universe is nihilist (devoid of any fundamental or objective meaning and purpose) or it is teleological (purposeful and directed)5. The most common theistic argument made is one concerning teleology, “What’s the point, if there’s no point?” Conversely, the atheist makes an absurd or existential (presenting logically inconsistent facts, or asserting that the universe itself is logically inconsistent) argument, “If there is no point, I can make one.” These arguments will be addressed in the theses6.

Ultimately, all forms of science and pseudo-science (assuming that they are rational and logically rigorous) are constituent elements of philosophy. If our definition of philosophy is accurate, then all rational activities which are directed at the goal of achieving ethics, utility, or Truth are elements of the grand attempt that is philosophy. The scientific endeavors are all part of the philosophical school of physics, by which one establishes the empirical viability of any particular philosophical view. The pseudo-sciences, ranging from sociology, to psychology, to astrology, to magic (again, assuming that they are rational and logically rigorous) can sometimes be appropriated into either physics or metaphysics. Some rare cases may even wander further from physics into epistemology or phenomenology, but all intellectual pursuits are ultimately an element of philosophy. Many of the individuals which pursue these endeavors lose sight of the forest for the trees, but that does not make their work any less valuable to the philosopher.

Bertrand Russel asserts, in chapter fifteen of “Problems of Philosophy”, that science becomes science by divorcing itself from philosophy once it becomes useful. Joseph Pieper, similarly contends that scientific inquiry is capable of achieving conclusions which are resolute and unyielding, whereas the philosophical endeavor can not.7 Both Russell and Pieper have a distinctly post-enlightenment flavor to them in this regard, which is unfortunate. They both fail to see that science is but a tool and a field contained within philosophy. Science may try to distinguish itself apart from its mother, with such cultural figureheads as Neil DeGrasse Tyson outright ridiculing her, but it can never truly extricate itself from the frameworks from which it came. Instead, it would be more appropriate for the specialists to concern themselves with their specialty and the philosophers to draw on them when needed.

Above all, reason is the driving force of man and his works. Above all rational pursuits, philosophy reigns. While not all men may have the ability to be great philosophers, all men are called to be philosophers, nonetheless. If in no other way, one must examine their choices and their lives in such a manner to achieve the best outcome available. Unfortunately, in this day and age, I fear that even this minor task proves to be too much for most.

It is no surprise, really, that this task has proven too much for my generation. The heart of philosophy is discourse and my generation is illiterate and disjointed in this regard. Rather than bemoaning our state of affairs, however, I ought to concern myself presently with the discursive nature of philosophy. Whether the discussion be oral debate in the city square, essays and books written in the solitude of a cave or study, or a college dropout’s ramblings on social media, philosophy only flourishes when an idea is shared, tested, refined, and put into practice. The manner in which this discourse and implementation takes shape is varied and veiled, but it is very real, even today.

The ideas and themes in popular philosophy pervade every area of our society, especially in the United States of America. They are boiled down to aphorisms and images and spread like a plague or meme through the cultural ether. I say “especially in America” as our nation was founded on a social experiment derived from the popular philosophies of the time (social contract theory), and that is a tradition that has continued for two centuries. Those that participate in the creation and sharing of art in society play a crucial role in the spread of these ideas.

Literature has been a long-suffering companion to philosophy. As far back as Homer and Gilgamesh, we see philosophical themes and musings riddle the characters and narratives of the culture. In more modern times, with the rise of the printing press, we saw an emergence of overtly philosophical fiction and some less-overtly philosophical fiction. There was such literature before the press, to be sure, just look at the classics. However, I find it unlikely that “Candide” or “Thus Spake Zarathustra” would have lasted the way the “Iliad” or “The Divine Comedy” has in the absence of the press. Even popular works of both fiction and nonfiction, whether intentionally or not, are rife with philosophical commitments.

These commitments are equally prevalent in film. While film is a fairly recent advancement in technology, it shares a common lineage with literature. We can easily trace its heritage from screenplay to stage play to oral traditions which stand as the forebears of ancient literature. For the sake of this discussion, I will consider video games and television shows as film, as their storytelling devices and methods are more-or-less identical. In addition to the words and language used in literature, film also presents ideas and commitments through the visual medium as well, certain images or arrangements can, consciously or unconsciously, link certain ideologies and characters together. The same holds true for music, sculpture, painting, any artistic or cultural endeavor, really, even dance.

Through the public discourse and permeation of cultural works, philosophy drives a society’s zeitgeist8. Any of the uninterested or uneducated who participate in cultural events, from watching movies, going to school, being subjected to advertising, have their minds and views molded by the underlying philosophy. Through exposure and osmosis, ideas that were once held in contempt have become mainstream and vice versa. This is the natural cycle of philosophy, and it is always made possible by the liberty of the minds of true philosophers. Even if the zeitgeist demands that the world be one way or another, the free thinkers are always at liberty to pursue the truth and share that quest with others through discourse.

Philosophical Schools, the Good and the Bad

Philosophies, taken in their historical and cultural context, ultimately tend to land in two categories: that of “the man” and that of “the rebel”. Whatever cultural or institutional norm for a culture may exist, it exists because of the philosophers who have brought those concepts to light and shared them via the public discourse. Those ideas that find themselves in favor of the ruling class or establishment naturally become the driving force of a society or state. Those ideas which are newer and less conformed tend to become popular amongst the counter-culture. It is important to note: this observation does not lend any judgment to the truth value of any one or another idea, simply its cultural impetus. It is the duty of the free-thinking philosopher to sort thought these ideas, regardless of the cultural context, and to ascertain the objective truth value of each respective idea. This often makes their philosophies unpalatable by both “the man” and his reactionaries. (C’est la vie.)

This cultural presence and impetus of popular ideas is revealed in every cultural work. From little nuances in color choice, sentence structure, musical tonality, to overt themes and statements, certain ideologies become manifest to an audience. These manifestations can be analytical and conscious and others can be more insidious or subconscious. The two most prominent contemporary examples are in the mainstream news and popular film, where phrasing and imagery is specifically designed to impart a worldview and philosophy on the unwashed masses.

It is no mistake or coincidence that the more authoritarian a state becomes, the more strictly social discourse and cultural works are censored. It is always in the best interest of the establishment to engender in their subjects conformity of thought and philosophy. The most intuitive and frequently used methods towards that end are limiting the subjects of discourse and subverting the thoughts of the masses. I believe that now, like any other time in history, the people of the world are having their thoughts and philosophies subverted and censored by the social and political establishments around the globe. An easy example of this phenomena would be the blind adherence to material reductionism, Neo-Darwinism, and cultural relativism which is strictly enforced in academia as well as by societal pressure, despite the lack of compelling rational evidence to support any of the three.

It is possible, however, that the prevalence of “bad philosophy” in popular culture is less a conspiracy of idiocy and more a benign zeitgeist of an uneducated time. Regardless of whether it is intentional or incidental, there is a silver lining in this situation. Philosophy, when maligned, can be a powerful tool for subjugation, but it is also, by its fundamental nature, liberating. Philosophy, as the pursuit of truth by rational means, necessarily drives its earnest adherents to freedom. By questioning the reasoning behind the social structures and institutional norms one encounters, one comes to understand where the truth lies and liberates oneself from the lies perpetuated by a society devoid of reason. Because of this, we see a dichotomy emerge: popular culture and its discontents. Now, this doesn’t mean that philosophers cannot enjoy and partake in the fruits of popular culture; it simply means that one ought to be aware of what is being imparted upon oneself, especially when there is a surplus of material available.

Reality exists such that there are several misconceptions and maligned concepts in the realm of contemporary philosophy. One of the popular misconceptions concerning philosophy and intellectualism is that it is a domain primarily inhabited by out-of-touch nerds arguing about stupid questions. “Which would win in a skirmish, the Enterprise or the Executor?” While the answer is obvious after a short bit of reflection (Enterprise), it is a dilemma that only a specific and small demographic will ever face. It is also a question that has questionable practical significance. I have witnessed in both the media and the general public a rising belief that those that contemplate such questions are to be considered intellectual and philosophical, at the expense of those that are deserving of the titles.

Of course, those that are deserving of the title have long been plagued by equally absurd-sounding puzzles. “When removing stones from a pile of stones, at which point is it no longer a pile?” While the answer may appear to be obvious to a mathematician or engineer (the pile is a designated set, it remains a pile even if there are no units in the set), it has far-reaching implications in the way man thinks and knows, or in other words, in the realm of epistemology.

Without philosophy, man would lack a crucial tool of introspection and rationality. The very question “What is knowledge?” does not have a satisfactorily categorical answer. Through our pursuits in philosophy, man has made great strides in addressing such a fundamental question which has evolved from “What is justice?” and moving onto “How can I be certain I exist?” and now addressing a wider, more complex assortment of queries. The fact remains, we must always ask, “How do I know this?”

These questions form our culture and our ethos. Or, rather, the pursuit of answers to this class of questions drives the popular zeitgeist. Even banal entertainment, like prime time television and late night talk shows touch on the questions which plague all sentient beings. “Why am I here?”, “Why am I unhappy?”, “What’s for lunch?”9 are all questions which people are desperately trying to answer whether they are aware of it or not. Philosophy attempts to codify and rationalize the pursuit of these answers, to make it accessible to our contemporaries and future generations, not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of man as well. These attempts are frequently used to answer these questions by taking our common assumptions and putting them to the test.

In each age and culture, there are certain ideas that become popular and omnipresent. An example would be polytheism in ancient Greece, or Christianity in 13th century Europe, or social Darwinism in the early 20th century. As can be seen through the examples presented, many of the common assumptions of the time fall to the wayside as a culture’s awareness evolved. In the words of Paschal: “Whatever the weight of antiquity, truth should always have the advantage, even when newly discovered, since it is always older than every opinion men have held about it, and only ignorance of its nature could [cause one to] imagine it began to be at the time it began to be known.”10 In some cases, those changes are for the better or worse (the shift from superstition to reason or the social ideology which fostered Nazism) at the time that change occurs. However, in the long run, philosophy always allows the individual and their culture to learn from the past. Typically, though (as I indicated above), this puts the individual at odds with his culture until the culture can catch up with him. This often makes the more notable philosophers those that were considered nonconformist.

A popular postmodern mindset in the philosophical landscape today has attempted to artificially generate that notoriety through philosophical non-conformity. What I mean is, they attempt to protest even philosophy itself. This is a trend which began in the enlightenment and found its perfection in the existentialist movement. Where enlightenment philosophers tended to either decry the philosophical mindset as some form of mental illness or feel the need to announce that it isn’t a “real” science, existentialists were (and are) wont to denounce not just the rationale of philosophy, but the very existence of logic altogether.

Absurdity is, fundamentally, simply denying or violating the principle of noncontradiction: asserting that something both is and is not in the same mode at the same time. Absurdism is a whole realm of postmodern philosophy in which one, such as Jean-Paul Sartre, attempts to use the tools of philosophy without following the rule of logic. While such attempts are entertaining and mind-expanding, they are just as the name says: absurd. As the 95 Theses (like all philosophy) assumes the existence and necessity of logic and rationality, this treatment of absurdism will be short and off-handed. Even so, Sartre, Camus, and other existentialists manage to contribute observations and arguments of value to those pursuing truth. I hope, in other works, to address the good and the bad of absurdist philosophy, but not today. This will be explicitly outlined in the theses themselves11, but this will help to better prepare a novice for the oncoming vocabulary contained in this work.

Nihilism is not a new concept in philosophy, but it has recently found a surge in popularity after witnessing the World War and all of its continuations. It is tempting to deny the existence of meaning when witnessing the most inhumane behaviors being perpetrated by man. “What is the meaning in millions of men killed by other men?” can easily become “What is the meaning?” However, as a being capable of asking such a question, the answer literally precedes the question. If one is able to witness and analyze whether or not something has meaning, there is, at a minimum, the production of that question. In the case of an absurdist, he looks no further than the mind of the inquirer, asserting that the inquirer/philosopher must give meaning to an otherwise meaningless world (and ultimately violating the PNC to do so). In this way, nihilism, in using a meaningful discourse to establish that there is no meaning besides the absurd is, itself, absurd. In the case of a philosopher, one asks “from whence does that desire for meaning come?”

In order to make sense of the universe at large, philosophy must be logical. Taking the evidence available to the philosopher and arranging it into a coherent narrative which is both satisfying and capable of producing utility and accurate predictions of cosmic behavior. The fact that our minds and our philosophical endeavors exist in such a way, and the fact that it is successful as such, we conclude that the universe itself must follow a form of logic. While the human intellect may be limited to codifying and adapting a series of laws to describe the universe’s behavior distinct from that behavior itself, the universe’s behavior is quite clearly consistent and logical, regardless of our perception of it.

This, of course, brings us to the subject of relativism. Relativism, in all but its softest forms, asserts and assumes the absence of objective existence, either in the form of moral reality, or physical or ontological reality. Moral relativism and its twin, cultural relativism, asserts that, because of the diversity of contradicting perceptions of ethical truth, there can be no absolute moral truth. Naïve relativism follows this form of logic to its inevitable conclusion: anything that can have contradictory observations or beliefs concerning it does not exist objectively, therefore reality itself does not objectively exist. While, at times, some form of scientific study is used in an attempt to justify such an assertion, typically it is an extreme reaction to scientism.

As objectionable as relativism is, it is at least identifiable and easily refuted. Scientism, however, is a beast of a different nature. Scientism is a strict adherence to the scientific method predicated on the philosophy of materialism, it is a union of empirical positivism and material reductivism. Anything not immediately falsifiable12 is of no consequence and ought to be done away with. Not all elements of scientism are bad (coming from a former adherent to scientism); a strict adherence to the methods of reson and empirical observation is what has elevated the school of physics to become the driving force of modern society it is today.

In recent centuries, most noticably the twentieth, there was a sudden surge in scientific thought and progress in all of the civilized world. There were innumerable factors that contributed to this phenomenon and, thankfully, I have no intention of going into detail concerning them. At the moment, I am far more concerned with the fruits of this technological renaissance than its causes. In the nineteenth century, the perpetual swell of knowledge and increasng standards of living appeared to be infinitely sustainable. This led to an optimism in the whole of society, but most especially in philosophy and its constituent sciences.

Confidence in science’s ability to cure all of humanity’s ails was joined by a popular trend in science known as reductionism. It was widely believed that science’s messianic qualities were a result of its percieved ability to reduce the most complex psychological or biological ailments into some simple alchemical formula (female histeria and electroshock therapy come to mind) and even the darkest and most troubling metaphysical questions could be exorcized with a simple application of mystical scientific hand-waving. Reductionism isn’t a modern invention, even the pre-Socratics strove to reduce all things to one atomic principle (the world is air/water/fire/flux/love/whatever), but never before was it so widespread and influential as during the rise of modernism and postmodernism.

Unfortuntely, in all their excitement over the leaps and bounds that were being made in their discoveries, true scientists (one who studies the physical sciences) became “scientists” (those that adhere to the philosophy of scientism). Subsequently, some bad science was introduced into the realm of sceintism without sufficient criticism. A handful of non-falsifiable theories, like Neo-Darwinism and String Theory, have managed to charade their way into the cult of scientism and are now defended with a fervor and blindness rivaled only by the most rediculous of religions. While it is not currently my goal to write a full-fledged indictment of scientism and other instances of bad science, I am compelled to at least demonstrate that materialism is insufficient and direct my readers to a work that more than completely shows that materialism and Neo-Darwinism are incomplete and illogical worldviews13. In favor of misguided science, many are equally prone to jihad in favor of bad philosophy (ie. relativism and consequentialism14). Some of these people have legitimate exuses for doing so (public education and demographics of their upbringing come to mind), ultimately, their excuses can be reduced to the defense of, “I didn’t know any better.” Some despicable men, however, are quite aware of the logical fallacies they commit in the name of furthering an agenda contrary to the pursuit of Truth.

Sophists, since ancient Greece, have always profited from making defenses of the indefensible, either for the acquisition of wealth or the silencing of their own conciences. Whenever an ill-informed or malignant trend emerges in a culture, it is certain that some sophist or another will emerge from the woodwork to champion it. Unfortunately for true philosophers, most sophists find their roots in philosophy and academia. This is unfortunate because, to the unwashed, the sophists and philosophers are indistinguishable between each other, save for sophists defending the fulfillment of their base desires while the other demands intellecual rigor and consitency. These sophists were the enemy of the ancients and are the enemy of philosophy today. As certain historians through history (like Cicero) have noted, there has been a noticeable trend of cultures falling for sophistry not long before their demise. In our modern culture, we see popular philosophy dominated by sophistry and intellectual vacuity. In academic philosophy, it would appear that a certain apathy to the common man and common culture has gripped the hearts of philosophers as they discuss the impractical and esoteric. Worse, though, than the philosopher turned sophist, is the celebrity or lawyer turned “philosopher”. Lawyers are paid to play by the rules and obfuscate the truth. Celebrities are paid because they make people feel good. Both of these careers are antithetical to the pursuit of truth. In such a case that one who makes a career of pursuing personal interest (whether it be thier own or their clients’) turns their attention to announcing certain ethical, social, scientific, or really any intellectual claim, they ought to be met with close scrutiny. An example which has plagued America (and the world) in recent years is the Hollywood zeitgeist of celebrities loudly and aggressively endorsing the political ideologies of the radical left. While these endorsements ought to be recieved skeptically, we instead have seen a widespread voice of agreement in the public forum. This is no different than the phenomenon observed by historians of bygone empires and cultures.

The same cult of irresponsibility and self-promotion in both popular culture and academia that existed in ancient Athens still plauges true philosophers today. At times, given the ascetic15 nature of the philosophical disciplines, it can be incredibly temptng for one to compromise one’s integrity for the sake of wealth or popularity which a philosopher would never see otherwise. Additionally, even if one is unaware of what they are doing, it is common for one to confuse one’s ideas with one’s self, which leads one to take justified criticism poorly and leaves no room for improvement and correction of ideas. When one is more concerned as to whether they are well-liked or can turn a profit rather than engaging in a genuine loving pursuit of wisdom and truth, it can only end badly.

As Socrates is credited to have said (which is more likely a paraphrase of his entire body of work), “The unexamined life is not worth living.” In order to successfully achieve eudaemonia16 or Truth, one must be vigilant and develop the ability to accurately assess one’s self. As will be expressed in the theses, one’s experience and examination of that experience is fundamental in one’s understanding of the universe and subsequent actions. Additionally, seeing as how eudaemonia and truth are the goals of the philosopher, it is clear that any philosopher and, truly, every man must live an examined life.

Now, this is not to say that every man must so thoroughly analyze and examine every atomic facet of his life in perpetual stoic apatheia. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite. While the philosopher must develop a categorical and pervasive habit of self-assessment, this could be crippling in other endeavors. Some men are simply incapable of this degree of introspection and others live in an environment which disallows such behavior. Even these men, though, can and ought to engage in what could rightly be called a “partially examined life”17: a lifestyle in which one at least routinely examines one’s conscience and actions. Training in and awareness of philosophy are invaluable tools in such an endeavor.

After all, our definition of philosophy clearly illustrates that philosophy is universally applicable. In clearly defining how the universe operates and why, as well as exploring what our actions must be in any given circumstance, philosophy establishes itself as the prime candidate to be the very center of culture and individual lives.

Through careful examination of one’s self and of the universe at large, one can come to an understanding of what one needs in order to acquire self-fulfillment. The desire for self-fulfillment is already the driving force behind culture. In developing and advancing the understanding required to achieve self-fulfillment, one contributes to the formation of a culture of self-fulfillment. This culture, informed by philosophy, would be a haven for those seeking eudaimonia.

As the centerpiece of ancient Greek culture and subsequently of philosophy, eudaimonia deserves a more thorough examination and definition. While it is alluded to in the 95 Theses, it may not get the fullest treatment it deserves. It then falls on the introduction here to give at least a high-altitude explanation with which to work. Eudaimonia as it is used here and in the theses can most easily be described as “the freedom to excel”. This means not only the presence of the mental faculties required to conceptualize and pursue excellence, but also the material and metaphysical circumstances required. In truth, I believe that this has always been the pursuit of man: to live in a culture of eudaimonia.

Philosophy: a Brief Genealogy

Regardless of which narrative one adheres to concerning the origins of man, there are certain circumstances which must have occurred at some point. While the beginnings of just such a narrative exist in the theses, I will attempt to imagine the worst-case scenario for the point I am attempting to illustrate. That point is, from the inception of the human race, philosophy has existed. With the emergence or creation of the first man, whether he was a mutated member of an ancestor race or created fully formed from the dirt by the very hand of God, his was the unique responsibility of siring the human race. While language and conceptualization may not be required in order to find a mate, it could certainly help. However, from the birth of the first progeny of man, communication and conceptualization become necessary for the continuation of the species. In order for her offspring to survive long enough to fulfill its duty to the species, our Eve must be able to express the concepts necessary for survival. Even if one is to assume that genetics supplied her offspring with instincts concerning fight-or-flight responses or aversions to creepy-crawlies that could be harmful, they would be insufficient for the task of allowing the offspring to learn, “This mushroom is bad,” or “This is how you kill a boar,” when they are one-chance circumstances which drastically impact survival.

It is clearly in the best interest of humanity’s survival to build on and diversify the material each generation inherits. “This mushroom is bad,” can only take one so far; it certainly does not place one at the top of the food chain. However, inquiry, discovery, and purpose can drive a nomadic people, scratching a meager sustenance from the earth, to ever greater achievements. I may not be able to kill a bear in hand-to-hand combat (I have never had the chance to try), but I don’t have to. By virtue of the utility of philosophy (and its constituent physical sciences), I live in an environment which is naturally repulsive to bears (though, in the instance of this region, the case was quite the opposite until recently); as added protection, though, I have many tools at my disposal, not the least of which is my Mosin–Nagant.

Aside from mere survival though, philosophy also provides mankind with an awareness of purpose and ethics which provides far more utility and impetus than survival, especially once the requirements for survival are met. In the pursuit of eudaimonia, we can imagine a genealogy of thought, moving from, “This mushroom is bad,” to, “Why is this mushroom bad?” to, “Why is?” With as many intermediary steps. Alongside this line of reasoning, we also see a diversification of material, branching from mere survival and pagan “gods of the gaps” into physics (including biology, astronomy/astrology, chemistry/alchemy, etc), metaphysics, epistemology, theology, etc.

While all these endeavors are oriented towards one end: the creation of an internally consistent, logically sound, empirically viable, and universal worldview which possesses ethical agency, utility, and (ultimately) Truth, they are sufficiently detailed and esoteric that one could spend their entire lives in devotion to one small element of a particular area of philosophy. This should not, however be used as a justification for skepticism18 as it would only serve as justification if philosophy were a solitary venture. Philosophy, by it’s nature, is collaborative. Each area of philosophy, no matter how distinct from another in focus and subject, bears at a minimum a holistic relationship to each other. In the same way that each area of study collaborates with the others, so too must individual philosophers. This relationship of the areas of study is due, in part, to their common material and practical significance; each area of philosophy informs the others and serves as a check against fallacious reasoning.

Being a human endeavor, philosophy finds itself the victim of human error quite frequently. As optimistic and teleological as my views are concerning this endeavor, I am not ignorant of the inherent shortcomings and roadblocks such an endeavor faces. I fully expect that even in the case of my own contributions, I will find myself (many years from now) arguing against the very assertions I make in this work. These shortcomings often lead to the development of dead-ends and half-truths. Some of these are quite speedily identified and handily defeated (like geocentrism) but many others are quite bothersome. Concepts which are rooted in truth or bear tangential resemblances to the truth often mislead the philosophical discourse. One need only to look as far as Epicurus’ problem of evil and subsequent resolution, or Puritanism, or the Copenhagen Interpretation, or Marxism to see what kind of damage can be done by philosophy run awry. These mistakes, as damaging as they may be, will, ultimately become a footnote in philosophy as failed experiments, as the utility of accurate reasoning becomes apparent and the march of the true philosopher continues unabated.

As the definition I am using for philosophy states, philosophy is an ongoing pursuit of truth (or, the Truth). All legitimate philosophers have, at one point or another, made a categorical assertion regarding truth. Even most faux philosophers make categorical assertions regarding truth, even if that assertion is a naive and misguided utterance of, “There is no truth.” While I do not necessarily believe that the “end of philosophy” has some metaphysical role to play in directing philosophy or that it may be attainable in this world, I do believe that the simple utility of truth allows and encourages “those who have eyes to see” to be diligent in selecting the philosophies to which they ascribe. This “natural selection” of memes will, naturally, lead towards the end of philosophy. I know this sounds quite similar to the Darwinist narrative which I have rejected mere pages before now, and it should, as there are some good ideas buried amidst the bad science. The survival of the fittest, as Herbert Spencer is credited with having formulated it, is one such concept.

Such memes as survival of the fittest are a prime contemporary example of how philosophical concepts tend to simply be a part of the atmosphere in which society functions. Most everyone has heard that phrase in one memorable context or another, even if they have no idea or a misconceived notion of what it means. In the case of philosophical culture, or rather the culture of philosophers, far more obscure and odd concepts are part of the atmosphere. In this way, a well-read and intelligent philosopher may breathe in Descartes, Scholasticus, Nietzsche, and Groothuis in order to utter forth a synthesis of these elements unique unto himself, even if it is identical to another’s work.

What utterance do I have to make? What can one such as myself bring to the banquet table of philosophy? I desire to partake of the feast about which those before me have written, but what can I do to pay admission? As will be clear to those who will bother to read these Theses, I am not yet sure, but I hope to one day have applied myself thoroughly enough to this, my vocation, so as to be worthy to touch the garment of lady philosophy.

This work, itself, is an attempt to codify my existing ideas in a format suitable for public development and critique. Philosophy, by its nature, is discursive and social by nature. I could not rightly call myself a philosopher if I were to merely wonder at the cosmos. Only if I were to share my wonder with others and argue my way to the truth alongside my companions would I be worthy of such a name. This is my first of a thousand steps towards the banquet for which I was created. I hope to bring along as many as can come with me to sing the praises of the Grand Architect of such a marvel as creation.

All I can rightly ask of philosophy and of those philosophers who would aid me in this journey would be that I contribute one more voice to this chorus as old as man: to be heard and considered by others, to have what truth I can find be perpetuated while my own shortcomings be disregarded. A lesson I have learned from Ayn Rand: to be considered sophomoric and redundant is still, at least, to be considered. If I could rightly ask more, however, I would ask that I be granted a personal fulfillment of my unslakable thirst for answers.

Hopefully, I can play an integral role in this chorus, can make an impact. I want to bring the practice of true philosophy back from the grave that enlightenment dug, existentialism filled, and postmodernism hid in the woods. The death of god19 was less a death of god and more the abortion of philosophy. I want to aid in the restoration of Lady Philosophy to her former glory, to clothe her once again in dignity and honor, and to bring her back to the common people, not as an object of rape, but of royalty. This novitiate book is the inauspicious beginning of such a daunting career choice.

95 Theses

1Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting One’s Reason and of Seeking Truth in the Sciences” Pt. 2

2Self-evident and deductively reasoned

3Chapter 1: Epistemic Assumptions

4Hegel, Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences p10

5Chapter 5: Teleology?

6Also Ch 5

7“Leisure: The Basis of Culture” p110

8German: “Spirit of the times”

9“Time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so.” Douglas Adams

10Groothuis, On Pascal (Stamford: Thomson Learning, 2003), 202

11Chapter 5

12 a theory resulting in an empirically verifiable prediction which, if inaccurate, determines that the theory is wrong

13Groothuis “Christian Apologetics” chapter 13

14An ethical school of thought which argues that the result of an action determines the ethical quality of said action

15Self-disciplinary and abstinent

16Flourishing and fulfillment

17 A phrase that is certainly as old as the Socrates quote from before, but never better implemented than as by the people on the Partially Examined Life podcast: http://www.partiallyexaminedlife.com/

18 disbelief that it is possible for one to obtain truth or knowledge of the truth

19Nietzsche used the phrase “god is dead” quite frequently. Most notable of which is his parable of the madman from “The Gay Science” book three.