Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Response to panel discussion

In the first section of the Third Essay, Nietzsche writes (in my version), “But that the acetic ideal has meant so many things to man expresses above all the fundamental truth about human will, its horror vacui: it must have a goal – and it would even will nothingness rather than not will at all” (77). I was thinking about this last night after the panel discussion about capitalism. A few things that were said last night… humans have basic needs: food, water, shelter, healthcare. How do we quantify and decided who needs how much of each thing? People working in sweatshops are living lives that could have been much, much, much, much worst had the sweatshop not existed. The people who are living at the very bottom of the economic food chain are living better and have “more” than the people who were living in that place 50 years ago. I think that this idea about simply the ability to will being more important that what it is being willed can speak to these dilemmas from last night. There is not a victory in the fact that people are living “better” than people in their same position 50 years ago if those people are still working to simply live and are exploited to the fullest potential of the system. These people, to me, do not get to even will nothingness.. which is why the question is not necessarily about improving the literal living conditions of the poor, but to improve their status within the system form being that which is exploited to members of a system who are able to will. I might have interpreted this passage from Nietzsche completely wrong… but I stand by my interpretation of/response to last night’s comments nonetheless.

Friday, April 20, 2012

The Self-destructive Nature of Guilt

Following Tuesday's class, I have been made aware of my own 'bad conscience', my own guilt, which plagues me in every day life, and which society has taught me is a natural phenomenon. On analysis, however, Nietzsche shows us how unnatural it is, for it is a type of self-torture, a 'will to life' which, previously discharged on the world, is now discharged into ourselves; an internalised rather than externalised cruelty. In this way, man "wounds himself, this master of destruction, of self-destruction" (Nietzsche 121) and renders himself sicker with every deepening feeling of guilt.

Interestingly, the novel "Mrs. Dalloway" provides a exemplary example of this destructive process, and  religion in this case (as with many) is the driving force which encourages and exacerbates guilt. Indeed, guilt seems to be the primary tool utilised by religion to bring people under control. Miss Kilman claims that turning to religion sooths "the hot and turbulent feelings which boiled and surged in her" (Woolf 124). These feelings, however (which could be seen as Nietzsche's 'will to power'), rather that being assuaged, are internalised instead of discharged on the world. This causes Miss Kilman intense suffering and unhappiness. Her very act of "trying to subdue [the] turbulent and painful feeling" (128) fails, because even if she masters it and convinces herself that "it is in the flesh" (128) she will continue to feel a "violent grudge against the world" (129), that is, a resentment stemming from bad conscience or the internalised violence against herself.

Other than religion, what other societal mechanisms wedge guilt and bad conscience in place?

Nietzsche's Economic Claims (Creditor/Debtor Relationship)

So far, Nietzsche's second essay intrigues me the most. In this essay, there is a strong economic tone is entrenched in this idea of the creditor/debtor relationship. Stemming from Nietzsche's history of promises and memory, the concept of costs and prices (not in a monetary sense, but a morality one). 

Historically, man was primitive in the sense that our animal instincts valued the strong, while glorifying violence as a necessity to life. While the strong only dealt with the strong, making promises was economically beneficial to the two parties. If there were no benefits in making promises,  then it would not have existed. This benefit to man explains why promises are carried out. In order for both parties to benefit, the promises must be kept by memory. This is what I understand that Nietzsche's logic lies but I am still unconvinced of this history. This origin of memory is hard to swallow since memory technically is not born out of a concept. Memory is just an operational function of the brain. With that in mind, it is imperative to remember the promises that are made. Nietzsche does not associate kept promises on the grounds of economic benefits, but on the grounds of pain. I think that this is where he bends his ideas a little too far for me to completely appreciate. Memory is not just grounding to avoid pain, but memory is for both the benefactors of an agreement. The way that my ideas carry is like this: agreements are made to benefit both parties, then memory comes into play because the party wants to benefit. The way that Nietzsche depicts it is that memory comes into play because if one does not remember, then pain is in the near future. 

I think that this is such a negative twist of logic. Even though Nietzsche continues with the creditor/debtor relationship and the concept of "owe" and "guilt", I do not think that this is the important part. To me, what is important is this idea that in the creditor/debtor relationship, there is always a hierarchy. I do not think that this is true. When a promise is made, one party is not better than another party. But the party that fulfills the promise is obviously better than the party that does not fulfill the promise, only leaving me to think that promises should not be made if it cannot be kept. Economically, one would not get into a promise if it is not beneficial. 

In my opinion, people do not weigh the cost of an action out of the need to punish those who do not follow through with the promises, but people weigh the cost and prices of actions and promises at the time that the promises are made. 

Tell me what you think. I feel like I am rambling on. 

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Eternal Return


                During Tuesday’s class, we spent a significant amount of time discussing Nietzsche’s conception of eternal return.  In this thought experiment, one posits that every life being lived has already been lived and will continue to be lived in precisely the same manner for all of eternity.  In this sense, all that happens has occurred already and could not have (and won’t in the infinite loop of recurrence) occur any other way.  It can be said, therefore, that all experience and circumstance is determined (although not predetermined, as we must differentiate between what simply must happen and what is designed to happen).  Nietzsche concludes that this thought experiment, whether it is a reflection of actuality or not, is tremendously frightening to most people who, at the thought of reliving every preceding experience in precisely the same manner, are dissatisfied at in two related ways.  Firstly, dissatisfaction arises from knowing that every non-pleasurable experience must be experienced again without hope of a different outcome.  Secondly, the knowledge that all of existence can, does, has, and will unfold in a singular way causes a feeling of entrapment, as it is easy to feel that agency is stripped from the individual when one considers that his/her ‘choices’ do not coexist with popular conceptions of freedom and will. 
                It must also be considered, however, that the eternal return scenario enables a variety of freedom unique not experienced by most people.  This freedom, I believe, is rooted in a kind of relieved meaninglessness.  If one accepts that his/her actions are not the product of individual will and agency but instead of immutable determinism, he/she is free to experience for the sake of experience alone.  In other words, despite the invisibility of the ‘future’ (which, in this thought experiment, doesn’t exist in relation to typical understanding), one can find solace in realizing that prior notions of moral and ethical obligations are not owned or enacted with purely independent agency by specific people.  Instead, one is free to simply enjoy the experience of living with the comforting knowledge that all which happens is entirely unchangeable. 
                In order to reach this point of acceptance, however, one must be at least satisfied enough with the experience of experiencing to justify the continuation of living.  If presented with this thought experiment as truth, it would be irrational for the predominantly dissatisfied alive person to continue living. 
                Given the implied meaninglessness in this philosophy, I am curious about the relationship of the eternal return scenario with epicureanism, hedonism, and nihilism. 

Illness and the Ubermensch

This week in class we talked about the ubermensch or the ‘overman’ or ‘superman’ and how he is the future of mankind (gendered language here and in the rest of the post is Nietzsche’s not mine). While this ubermensch will go beyond man as he is thought of today, he will also come from man in an almost dialectical manner. If we see our current (slave morality) views of human beings as the thesis, then Nietzsche is arguing that we need an antithesis. This can be seen in the way Nietzsche characterizes exactly what the sickness of bad conscience is. “The bad conscience is an illness, there is no doubt about that, but an illness as pregnancy is an illness” (88). Pregnancy is first of all an illness that can only last for a certain length of time. After nine months, either the illness kills you, or you are then able to return to being healthy. Also, pregnancy is a kind of illness for the mother, but is not for the baby. In fact, it is only because of the illness that the baby can be. It is also only because the mother endures the illness and does not seek treatment for it that the baby is allowed to be born. This ‘illness’ is both a positive and negative symptom of modern society and slave morality. It is positive because it leads to the ubermensch, but it is also negative because it is a kind of nihilism that is life-denying.



Nietzsche describes this illness in reference to Europe. “Here precisely is what has become a fatality for Europe – together with the fear of man we have also lost our love of him, our reverence for him, our hopes for him, even the will to him. The sight of man now makes us weary-what is nihilism today if it is not that? – We are weary of man” (44). Here Nietzsche is recognizing the illness as nihilism, but rather than remove the problem, he is in fact advocating that we must embrace man. This does not mean that we look past his faults, but rather that we recognize the illness for what it is, and move beyond our current, nihilistic conception of ourselves. At the end of the second essay, Nietzsche argues that the “man of the future” will “redeem us not only from the hitherto reigning ideal but also from that which was bound to grow out of it, the great nausea, the will to nothingness, nihilism” (96). This man of the future is not just wishful thinking, but “he must come one day” (ibid).



Given Nietzsche’s insistence on necessity, it makes sense that this man of the future must come. But what will this look like exactly? Is it Hegelian/Marxian insofar as it is a dialectical process?

Friday, April 13, 2012

Necessity and Value

Last class Dr. J mentioned an asphorism from The Gay Science about necessity. Here's a part of that asphorism:

"But how could we presume to blame or praise the universe? Let us be on our guard against ascribing to it heartlessness and unreason, or their opposites; it is neither perfect, nor beautiful, nor noble; nor does it seek to be anything of the kind, it does not at all attempt to imitate man! It is altogether unaffected by our aesthetic and moral judgments! Neither has it any self-preservative instinct, nor instinct at all; it also knows no law. Let us be on our guard against saying that there are laws in nature. There are only necessities: there is no one who commands, no one who obeys, no one who transgresses. When you know that there is no design, you know also that there is no chance: for it is only where there is a world of design that the word 'chance' has a meaning" (Book III, paragraph 109).

Nietzsche's point here is similar to the one he makes in the Geneology of Morals about the strong acting strong and the weak acting week. It is absurd (says Nietzsche) to fault the strong for being strong. It is who they are. In both texts, what Neitzsche is basically saying is that there is no such thing as an 'ought' claim, only 'is' claims. Saying something ought to be a certain way can be true regardless of whether that thing is that way or not. For Neitzsche, this is complete fiction. We may be able to imagine the ability to make such claims, but they have no relationship to the real world. According to this logic, morality is meaningless because it prescribes normative claims about the way we should act.

By arguing this, Nietzsche’s critique goes beyond the current ‘slavish’ moral systems we have today. Yes, asking the strong to be weak is absurd, but in a way, so is asking them to be strong. If Nietzsche is right, then ‘asking’ to do anything is not appropriate, regardless of what we are asking. The insight that ‘there are only necessities’ not only questions the legitimacy of slave morality, but also any kind morality in general. It questions the possibility of values in general. If everything is necessity, then my choosing to value something as good or bad (or any other value for that matter) is also a necessity. In this way, the noble morality falls into a similar problem if it is articulated as the principle ‘might is right’ or ‘might determines right.’ What this principle assumes is that the strong deserve to make choices about what good and bad mean. But this is just as problematic as allowing the weak to determine good and evil.

Perhaps this is why in addition to warning us that we shouldn’t think of the world as perfect, eautiful, or noble, we should also “guard against ascribing to it heartlessness and unreason.” The universe is neither organized nor unorganized, it just is. This appears to me to be a very strange metaphysical stance. It seems like such a world is devoid of any meaning. While many have argued that Nietzsche is a nihilist, Nietzsche himself says that nihilism is one of the worst consequences of slave morality and is something he wants to avoid.

How can Nietzsche advocate for a particular way of looking at the world when there is only necessity? Nietzsche often uses medical metaphors, arguing that people in the modern world are ‘sick.’ How can Nietzsche make a judgment claim about sickness? Why not prefer sickness to health? Sickness, after all, is a natural phenomenon. Isn’t it ‘necessary’ for people in the modern world to be sick?

Judgments as Rank-Ordering

Last class, we emphasized the point that all value judgments should be regarded as rank-ordering and rank-establishing. This is a striking statement, but with some thinking I think we can confidently conclude that it is true. It seems intrinsic to the very nature of what values are (however we may disagree on the finer points) and what judgments do: Values, by definition, are attached to things in order to set them apart as "higher" in some respect, so a value judgment should be establishing something as higher than something else -- at least in some sense. Generally, I think this statement is fairly uncontroversial; however, it does get a little tricky when we examine moral judgments as a subcategory of value judgments. Some of us might be hesitant to admit moral judgments as rank-ordering as well. I still think, however, that it holds that all value judgments, including moral ones, intend to establish rank, and I will attempt here to defend why.

The protest might go: "If we subscribe to some moral system (e.g., a deontological theory like Kant's), then our judgments/actions are not motivated to establish rank but rather to do the right/good thing (like acting for the sake of duty and the moral law). I think Nietzsche's naturalist approach will be helpful in seeing how even these moral judgments/actions are still in fact rank-ordering. Given Nietzsche's set-up of master (aristocratic, Homeric, etc.) values and the oppression experienced by slave peoples, it seems then that moral theories, or morality in general, seem to arise as an expression of ressentiment of these slaves. The very nature of this expression is indicative of the higher motive to invert the values of master morality. We should note a distinction here, a sort of dual-way we can look at morality: either as (1) within a moral system or (2) outside of a moral system (such as the naturalist perspective). Within the confines of a given moral system, actions and judgments are never regarded as rank-ordering. However, if we step outside of these confines into the perspective of the naturalist observer, we see that these ostensibly "good deeds" actually have an ulterior motive to invert the values of the master class -- and inverting values is in fact one way of establishing rank. The ulterior motive of any morality project then seems intrinsically rank-ordering.

For comments, is there a way that we can view morality from an objective third-person standpoint (not as an adherent to the moral system) and still see moral judgments as actions as genuinely for the sake of the good, or are we forced to admit that there is always an ulterior rank-ordering motive?

Friday, April 6, 2012

Is Abraham "behind the world"?

In the Preface, Nietzsche references his separation of theology from morality and that he stopped looking for origins of good and evil “behind the world” (5). This statement and his subsequent writing bring up two questions for me in terms of relating Nietzsche to Kierkegaard.

1. Regarding our conversations about whether or not there is a religion grounding the telos of the ethical… if theology is separated from morality of Nietzsche, how does this relate to Kierkegaard’s understandings of the groundings of the ethical. I’m sure the answer to this will arise in our readings of Nietzsche, but I generally think of lessons in theology as grounding the origins of “good” and “evil” and our rules of what are good and bad actions as being received from theological teachings.

2. Would Nietzsche consider the Abraham story to be something that is “behind the world” or part of our actual experience? If thinking of morality in terms of God is to not look at historical/anthropological evidence, how would the Abraham story classify? Would Nietzsche count it as something that is part of human history? Or something that is a “lesson” from God, something “behind the world”? In reading his later discussion on the relationship between Judaism and Christianity I would think that Nietzsche would consider the development of these religions as part of the history of people that concepts of “good” and “evil” came from, as he describes the evolutions of the language, but Nietzsche does not want to consider the story of Adam and Eve as the origin of good and evil? Nietzsche’s references to the writings of Tertullian at the end of Essay One would give me reason to believe that he would consider the actions/repercussions of the Abraham story as legitimate contributions to the evolution of “good” and “evil”, however I’m not sure that Nietzsche would agree with the way Kierkegaard describes the story. Does Kierkegaard refer to the story in a too “behind the world” way for Nietzsche?

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Towards Kierkegaard's Lessons

After all the many discussions about Kierkegaard's aim -- his actual lesson behind asserting the strenuous difficulty in acquiring faith -- in Fear and Trembling, some interesting possibilities have been teased out of the material. I will elaborate on two here.

Firstly, Kierkegaard is upping the price of faith, and therefore making Christianity as a whole more expensive. He is showing the rarity (and horror) of faith, asserting the almost inhuman courage it involves, and thus rendering faith priceless. Moreover, this is not only an attack on non-believers who disregard faith as easy, something anyone could do. It also seems to be aimed at those believers too who assert that they have faith; Kierkegaard wants to show how faith is not a commodity. He shows how the leap of faith does not involve a small gap but rather an ever-widening gulf, one that very few are selected to jump in the first place. Perhaps, then, Kierkegaard is suggesting that most people are not required to have faith in order to be Christians. Since faith is such an exclusive thing, Christians are only required to believe in God and admire, as well as respect, the suffering and strain faith requires. Rather than using Abraham as the model of faith, Kierkegaard calls him the father of faith, which suggests  a guiding figure who, rather than expecting actual reproductions of his faith in his followers, requires only belief in God and his use as a great guiding figure to Christians.

Secondly, Dr J suggested a more abstact, overarching interpretation of Kierkegaard's aim. That is, Kierkegaard may be using the story of Abraham, and the faith that thereby results, as an analogy of the paradox humans are forced to face in their everyday lives. In other words, it makes visible, if not understandable, the fact that we are forced -- everyday -- to live with the paradox that I mean everything and nothing. We are required to believe both these contradictory things simultaneously. In a certain sense then, the Abraham story is able to elaborate on a fundamental aspect of human life.

Are there any other lessons in which Kierkegaard would have been interested?

Friday, March 30, 2012

Reposing of the Question

Last class, we brought up the question (I think Kharys was the first to ask it), "Just what is Kierkegaard getting at in this writing?" There was a general feeling that said, "Okay, Kierkegaard's done a great job characterizing faith as that paradox of the single individual being higher than the universal, but so what? Does this mean that we should think twice and maybe look admirably on those people who show such great 'faith' by murdering their kids because they say God told them too? We still say that, as moral people, we have to condemn them, so what are you trying to say Kierkegaard?" While I don't think that Kierkegaard is advocating looking for morally objectionable situations where we can demonstrate our faith, he certainly does want to get the word out to the people around him that faith is more difficult than it seems. I think we're all curious, however, as to what the value of this awesome faith is. If faith requires us to be prepared to commit something morally blameworthy all in order to enter into some mysterious relationship where the individual is absolutely related to the absolute in such a way that he won't be able to communicate this relationship, resulting in no rest in the universal and plenty of anguish at thesingularity, then how many Christians would jump for the chance at having faith? But perhaps that is the whole point that Kierkegaard wants to make to the community around him, but it's still difficult to find something unmistakeably positive about faith. It almost makes more sense to read Kierkegaard as a criticizer of Christianity, showing what kind of nutty things the Christian has to commit to in order to be faithful. It's really ironic that Kierkegaard is actually a Christian himself.

I don't have a positive thesis to put forward here, but I have re-articulated the sentiments we had over "what the point" of all this is about. For comments, I think it might be insightful to provide a defense for why we should consider faith as something intrinsically valuable. From Kierkegaard, it seems sort of taken for granted that faith is good and something to be achieved, but his description of it makes the value of its attainment very dubious.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Questions about the Third Retelling


                Of the four exordium introduced in the beginning of Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, I find the third to be the most compelling, albeit the most confusing.  I am particularly fond of this exordium because it, regardless of which interpretation the reader adopts, unavoidably highlights the tragedy of Abraham’s experience during his demonstration of faith.  In spite of my enthusiasm for this retelling, I find myself puzzled by many elements therein and do not know how best to interpret the reading.  Kierkegaard writes that “it was a quiet evening when Abraham rode out alone, and he rode to Mount Moriah; he threw himself down on his face, he prayed to God to forgive him his sin, that he had been willing to sacrifice Isaac, that the father had forgotten his duty to his son.”  This interpretation of the story is starkly different from the others in a single major way: Abraham does not bring Isaac to Mount Moriah for sacrifice.  However, despite Abraham’s solitary journey, upon arriving at Mount Moriah alone, he seeks forgiveness for his supposed willingness to sacrifice his son.  At this point, I find myself confused.  In what way was Abraham willing to sacrifice Isaac?  Is Abraham penitent simply because he considers sacrificing Isaac?  Doesn’t the fact that Abraham does not bring Isaac to Mount Moriah for sacrifice demonstrate his unwillingness to comply with God’s command?  If so, how is this retelling a proper demonstration of faith?  Alternatively, it seems possible that Abraham misinterpreted the manner in which God was testing him.  Abraham may have thought that God was testing Abraham’s love for Isaac.  Surely, this sort of test puts Abraham in a unique predicament.  On one hand, he can obey God, thereby potentially expressing the limited extent of his love for Isaac; on the other, he could disobey God and in doing so, demonstrate his lack of faith.  Either way, however, the tragedy of Abraham’s experience in this instance becomes apparent. 
                Kierkegaard ends the third retelling with the following metaphor: “When the child is to be weaned, the mother, too, is not without sorrow, because she and the child are more and more to be separated, because the child who first lay under her heart and later rested upon her breast will never again be so close.  So they grieve together the brief sorrow.”  Although I understand how this analogy illustrates the misfortune inherent to Abraham’s experience, I’m confused by Kierkegaard’s classification of the sorrow as “brief”.  Why is their sorrow characterized this way?

Abraham's Breasts


During our last class we had discussed Kierkegaard’s Exordiums and their potential meaning. In the beginning of the Exordium is the tale of a man who greatly admires the story of Abraham. As the man grows older “his enthusiasm for it became greater and greater, and yet he could understand the story less and less” (9). This man wants to witness the events leading to Abraham sacrificing Isaac so that he may better understand the nature of Abraham and its meaning for faith.
Because this man is incapable of understanding the paradoxical nature of faith, the man ponders over four potential scenarios of how the events took place, and concludes each scenario with an analogy to a mother trying to wean her child from her breast.
In the first scenario, Abraham says to himself: “I will not hide from Isaac where this walk is taking him” (10). Abraham explains to Isaac that he is to be sacrificed, which Isaac could not understand. Abraham, in order to offer a motive for Isaac to understand, pretends to be a homicidal maniac where, “his gaze was wild, his whole being was sheer terror”. This of course is a noble sacrifice on Abraham’s part, for he had severed his bond of father and son so that Isaac may not lose faith in God and instead lose faith in Abraham. Johannes concludes the first scenario with the analogy of a mother blackening her breast so that the child may be weaned, which is very much like the scenario Abraham had done for his son.
In the second scenario Abraham loses faith in God, and includes an analogy of the mother concealing her breast. In the third scenario Abraham rides out alone to Mount Moriah to beg forgiveness from the lord, and is concluded with a mother and child mourning over the weaning, for never will the child be as close to the mother as it had been when suckling her breast. The fourth scenario is of everything going to plan, but Isaac notices that Abraham is holding the knife in despair. Forever after Isaac’s faith is lost. The concluding analogy is a remark of how a mother has more solid food for her child to feed upon.
In all of these instances, the man is trying to conclude the kind of faith Abraham must have had for in order to act as he did. And each analogy corresponds to the tale written. I believe that the analogy represents the father Abraham, the son Isaac, and finally the Lord. What other connections do you see amongst the analogies and the short stories?

Faith's Disturbing Repercussions

In Fear and Trembling Kierkegaard argues for the importance of faith and the way in which it has been reduced to a diluted, cheapened form, making it something people think is easy to have. Thus he offers the story of Abraham and Isaac, and suggests the inverse through it: that doubting and knowledge is easy -- anyone can doubt -- whereas faith is one of the most difficult qualities to develop. This because faith involves a paradox, that is, something singular that cannot be communicated logically because it cannot make use of universals. The story of Abraham and Isaac, then, involves the most unequivocal paradox and therefore exemplifies faith. At the moment that Abraham is about to slay Isaac, he believes with all his being two contradictory things: that Isaac will and will not die, that God has both kept and broken his promise. Faith involves the teleological suspension of the ethical, as is illustrated in this emblematic example, because Abraham's experience is a singularity and therefore moves above the ethical (because it exists in the realm of universals). In this way, Kierkegaard suggests the limits of philosophy and the way in which it fails to capture the unsayable, irrational, unmediatable, and singular that is found in faith. Philosophy is unable to appreciate the formidable and unreaceable nature of faith in other words.
While I think I am able to brush the contours of understanding here, I am unable to understand how this argument can be applied practically. If the irrationality and singularity of faith is applied in practice, it seems to involve worrying repercussions, and I can't seem to see beyond these consequences. Maybe it wasn't Kierkegaard's aim for it to be applied practically, but surely he wanted faith to be something that is adopted, or rather taken up as "a task for a whole lifetime" (Kierkegaard 23). If this is the case, then how would Kierkegaard respond to cases in which people literally emulate the story of Issac and Abraham, except without the happy ending? This is no insignificant worry, for there have been instances of exactly this. A few years ago I read an article about a mother who drowned her four kids, claiming that God had told her to do it. There seems to be a whole collection of reports on this; here is a link to a similar article http://articles.cnn.com/2004-04-03/justice/children.slain_1_deanna-laney-jury-rules-god?_s=PM:LAW.
How are these examples any different from the story of Abraham, except that 'God' allowed them to go through with the murders? Surely, then, by Kierkegaard's logic, these murderous mothers are even better exemplifications of faith, because they actually had to go through with the murder.  Why are these mothers categorised as insane, while Abraham is considered the "father of faith"? For there is no way to show that these women didn't actually hear God, in the same way that there was no way to prove that God ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son. Like Abraham, in fact, these women satisfy the fundamental characteristic of faith: the belief in the proof of things that can't be proved.
In brief, I find the irrationality and incommunicability of faith extremely disturbing. It seems to me like a facade behind which to hide, but maybe that is because I have been sold the 'cheap' version of faith and I'm entangled in and too attached to universals. But even if this is so, Kierkegaard's assertion that faith transcends the ethical realm (because of its dependence on universals) and therefore that it suspends the ethical, seems to result in horrific actions such as the ones mentioned above. What good is Kierkegaard doing then? What is his aim? Because to me all it seems to do is exonerate or excuse these people when they are insane and in fact the need help. I am open to anyone showing me that I have completely missed the point!

Faith and Kierkegaard

Rewinding back to our class on Tuesday, I have done some serious thinking. Doing so, I have adapted my ideas a little better to the text.

This is the third time I am reading Problem I, so this text is not that brand new to me. Honestly, every time that i do read it, though, I am learning new things or I change my ideas. This time I have came to the conclusion that if I were to follow Kierkegaard's idea of faith, I absolutely would agree with him. Kierkegaard's faith is a submission into a paradox. This is true in the sense that if you count irrationality a paradox. And this is what Kierkegaard says himself. When an individual moves beyond the ethical realm, they are moving beyond rationality (or beyond the rationality that can be explained with this telos). This is where I agree with Kierkegaard. Honestly, it may seem like in class that I had a problem with Kierkegaard, I really do not think that he is wrong. But reading this text, I am forced to be skeptical and to ask questions (especially in a text that draws from religion).

Kierkegaard believes that faith is cheapened by the general public. Our model of faith, honestly, lacks understanding from so many of the religious. While Abraham's story is definitely one of a kind, people do not really understand why it is that way. (A) I believe that he is right that he embraces the paradox. (B) He is able to manifest his faith into a test that shows his faith. But also (C) where God has chosen a covenant with him prior to testing his faith.

In the Merriam-Webster, it says, "firm belief in something for which there is no proof."
Dr. J is right in saying that faith is a paradox. While Abraham's story of faith is special, it is not because of the faith, but because he had the opportunity to prove it. However, ordinary people everyday believe in something for which there are no proof. This is not special, even though it is paradoxical. The two things that (in the ethical) cannot happen is the belief and the "no proof". In the ethical, beliefs needs evidence or reason for it.

Even though faith is a belief in the paradox, please tell me how embracing a paradox is special. This is including the idea that there are no real thresholds for faith; if you have it, you have it. But religious people, who believe that there is life after death. This is a belief in the paradox. I am talking about a textbook definition of faith and paradox. While Abraham's story is special because he could prove his faith, faith is not nearly impossible to obtain.

Please tell me what you think.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Back to the Bible

After our conversation on Tuesday, I decided to dust off my New Oxford Annotated Bible and look back over the story of Abraham. One dispute we were having was about the covenant that God makes with Abraham concerning his fathering of nations. According to my translation, God says “this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations” (Genesis 17:4). One question that was raised was whether or not Isaac was necessarily the fulfillment of this covenant. While it is true that Abraham actually had a son before Isaac with the slave Hagar, my translation at least makes it pretty clear that the covenant God is making with Abraham not only names Sarah as the mother but tells Abraham to name their son Isaac and that it is through him that He will keep his covenant: “your wife Sarah shall bear you a son, and you shall name him Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his offspring after him” (Genesis 17:19). This passage shows that God’s covenant rests on miracle that Sarah, in her old age, bore a son. Even though this was a miracle, there isn’t really any reason for Abraham to think that God might establish another covenant with him through another son.

As for the actual passage of the binding of Isaac, God says too Abraham “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you” (Genesis 22:2). While God doesn’t explicitly say that He won’t provide another son if Abraham kills Isaac, He does emphasize the fact that Isaac is Abraham’s only son, and that he is a son Abraham loves. This is obviously a big deal for Abraham, yet he complies without complaint. He also briefly discussed whether Abraham could have known that God wouldn’t actually make him sacrifice his own son. Before Abraham tells Isaac that the Lord will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, he tells the two attendants: “stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you” (Genesis 22:5). While this might suggest that Abraham assumes that both of them will be returning, it could also be Abraham concealing the true purpose of their travels from Isaac. When the angel comes down to stop Abraham from killing Isaac, he says “for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Genesis 22:12). This wording seems to indicate that what Abraham needed was fear and devotion. This makes it seem like Abraham was being praised for trusting in God and being willing to sacrifice his son for His sake, instead of believing in a paradox.

What, if any, does this textual evidence suggest? Does it support Kierkegaard’s interpretation of the Abraham story? In what ways might the translation play a part in the way we understand this story today?

Unsettling Paradox?

I generally understand people’s volunteered (as opposed to forced) involvement with religion (whether it be routine or on an as-needed basis) to be sought out as a comfort. I am in Community Psychology and today we were talking about stress and the ways people cope with stress. There is extensive research and empirical evidence around the ways in which people turn to religion as a coping mechanism. I think that a “higher power” and something bigger than an individual helps the individual to cope with things that are uncontrollable and hard to understand.

I realize that there is a great difference between religion and the concept of faith that we were talking about yesterday, but I think they are linked if the cheapened version of faith gave way to religion and religious organization today. What I’m wondering (the point of all this rambling) is, if the purpose of religion/faith (at least for many) is to find comfort, is it possible that we utilize religion in a way that includes true faith (as according to Kierkegaard)? Could people find “having faith” in the paradox fulfilling in the way they find organized religion fulfilling? If Kierkegaard explains faith as accepting paradox, does this imply that being a person of “faith” (be it Christian, Jewish, Muslim, anything) involves accepting paradox, though it may be unsettling? Then where is the comfort and safety of religion? Or maybe coming to find peace with the paradox is the path of finding faith and religion becomes obsolete? Maybe this is where the “cheapened” version comes into play. People are under the impression that faith/religion/spiritual life should be the “easy” and comforting counterpart to the rest of life that is hard to understand.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Four Passages from Marx


With this post, I’d like to address a few of Marx’s points one by one and see what everyone thinks:

1.      1.  “The whole of society must fall apart into the two classes—the property-owners and the propertyless workers” (70). 

Surely, at least in the modern day, to proclaim that all of society must fall into one of two classes is reductive.  Even if one regards the delineation of classes as defined by the ultra wealthy vs. everyone else, it mustn’t be the case that the latter group consists only of propertyless workers.  Doesn’t the diversity inherent to the working class in a modern setting indicate the existence of some combinatorial progression?

2.      2.  “The alienation of the worker in his product means not only that his labour becomes an object, an external existence, but that it exists outside him, independently, as something alien to him, and that it becomes a power of its own confronting him; it means that the life which he has conferred on the object confronts him as something hostile and alien” (72). 

Do you think that Marx is referring to the worker’s labor as objectified or the objectification of the product of the worker’s labor or both?  This seems to me a potentially crucial differentiation.  Is it possible to experience one without the other?   

3.      3.  “If his own activity is to him an unfree activity, then he is treating it as activity performed in the service, under the dominion, the coercion and the yoke of another man” (78).

This passage makes me wonder whether or not it is possible to be a free, uncoerced member of the working class.  Is it possible for a worker to feel as though he, under any conceivable circumstances, would perform the same activities?  Would such a mentality relinquish the worker from his worker status? 

4.      4.  “The laws of political economy express the estrangement of the worker in his object thus: the more the worker produces, the less he has to consume; the more value he creates, the more valueless, the more unworthy he becomes; the better formed his product, the more deformed becomes the worker; the more civilized his object, the more barbarous becomes the worker; the mightier labour becomes, the more powerless becomes the worker; the more ingenious labor becomes, the duller becomes the worker and the more he becomes nature’s bondsman” (73). 

Although I understand much of what Marx is saying in this passage, I’m confused by his assertion that “the more value [the worker] creates, the more valueless, the more unworthy he becomes.”  Why is it that the worker’s continued productivity results in progressive devaluation?  I’m inclined to believe the reverse, despite my (admittedly tepid) agreement with the rest of this quotation.