Crossing a line

Mr. Johnson is not exactly Dan Brown's greatest fan. Nor am I. To make money spreading falsehood and promoting bigotry, if not outright hate, is a sad pathetic existence. But I'll publicly declare that I don't believe even Mr. Brown capable of this. Click here for background. I'm interested in your thoughts.

Who is this guy, and why haven't you heard of him?

His name was Alexander Solzhenitsyn, one of the most important minds of the 20th century. Yet, upon his death on August 3rd, hardly any attention was given to him in the mass media. Why was he important? The first essay I link, here, will give you a good idea. What is he forgotten? Aside from the general lack of history that we sandflies have I also think he doesn't jive well with liberal smugness. For more on that, read his 1978 address at Harvard. It's pretty cool, and well before any of the problems we're experiencing today with Islam and the like.

Have a gander and tell me what you think. I think the man was brilliant, a prophet.

I'll be away the next two weeks, visiting family on Vancouver Island. I MIGHT get a chance to toss a post up while I'm there, and I'll certainly be reading the com-boxes. Until I'm back, however, farewell.

A Post for an Anonymous "Someone"

Sorry it's taken so long to mention good books to read to help explore the Church and all that. You could do far worse than start with C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. Good reading, well-considered, and easy to get hold of.

And yeah, I'll mention more books as we go. Feel free to ask questions. And yeah, others might benefit from the books I drop here. So go forth and read! Oh, and trying to get to Mass wouldn't hurt. :) I'll dig up some info on the liturgy though, since I know not everyone is familiar with it.

Ok, book #2 already (since I'm thinking about it.) Scott Hahn, A Father Who Keeps His Promises will more or less show you how the Christian story unfolds (you'll like this one... it's epic.) I'll post over the next few weeks about it, thoughts on the Catholic world-view, how Christ is necessary to the world-view we all think of as Modern and Western.

Lame Headline

IOC "surprised" by Games web censorship

Really? How could this possibly be a surprise?

It's that time again...

"It's Clobberin' time!"

The quote is, of course, attributed to the Thing. And while the line from Marvel comics isn't scintillating, at least his prose doesn't fall into some of the pitfalls of other, more prominent American writers.


Speaking of which:



Here is one of the best threads I've ever seen covering various errors in Dan Brown's works. No, wait! It's just the errors he made in his new-to-be-made-in-a-movie-starring-Tom-Hanks-and -Tom's-Bad-Haircut! Angels and Demons!

Seriously. And don't stop at the blogger's words; read some of the additions by his commenters. Hilarious. I'm actually glad that Rob Howard is making a second one. It gives me an excuse to continue with the ranting!

Enjoy.

This Week in the News!

So a lot of my students have heard me talk about torture, particularly how the soul of America is fighting through this issue right now. Well, here's an interesting story on how fiction helped certain people sneak torture in through the back door of America.

Wow.

Is it possible that this level of stupidity can really affect policy?

Banners, Crusades, and the Real Point

So, Mr. Corrigan and I have been chatting a bit, and it's interesting how some points slip by when one's head is full of glorious visions, the blood flowing at the thought of storming the gates of ancient cities. So, a word on living metaphors:

I, in certain moments, speak a certain way. And sometimes I think I'm successful in rousing certain emotions in certain people. Now, this is all well and good, and it is my position that the blood gets roused by certain visions because of the virtue of the vision (and not so much my merit... this is in fact important, as I'll get to later.)

Mr. Corrigan recently posted about the Governor General's Award, and how a very virtuous society gave theirs back. So, let's talk about that.

So far I've heard some fairly ringing words about marching forth with Johnson to some wondrous conquest. Thank-you, the sentiment is lovely. But, people, have you taken a look ahead to see where I'm going? Follow me, fine, but you do so at your peril because in me you'll find a rather fallible fellow, a very fallible fellow. Further, if you base anything on a single personality then your attachment lasts only so long. Shoot higher, folks. Do you dare follow the Christ, for example? Because all of the glory of the history I talk up is a reflection of Him. All the Crusades were waged by men who bowed at His feet. And that bowing doesn't mesh too well with the modern mind. There is in that bowing a rather profound letting go of a lot of things.

We wonder at the example of St. Thomas More, executed at the word of Henry VIII for being true to the Church. But are you prepared for the derision he faced? A recent comment caught my eye, in which a young man I respected said he was prepared to be accused of arrogance. That's fine, and many who read this would say similar things. But are you prepared to suffer arrogance? Because that's what the world has for you if you take up the banner of Christ.

Consider: The return of the Governor General's Award Mr. Corrigan cited. That's something that makes my blood sing; it's so noble, so right. But the vast majority of comments I've found mock it. Many are even openly angry, claiming that these Catholics are trying to impose their morality on Morgentaler. Go ahead, dig around and see some of the poisonous things people have said. And yes, you might say that this happens because people don't have a clue it's also true that they are in the majority. And when the majority think you're nuts, well- good luck.

So, Mr. Johnson and the walls of Constantinople. Let's turn that into metaphor, shall we? When I talk about Constantinople what I'm really talking about is taking something back that used to be ours. The same is true of Western civilization. The walls of the West have been taken, the barbarians are within the gates and they are us. So how do we take this proud citadel back? How do we rally beneath the flag of the Church and take back what was lost?

The answer is by being it, living it. You want to be something other than what our industrial-political-consumerist society wants you to be? Try going to Church. You want to fight back against the dying of the West? Consider the priesthood.

I find it fascinating that in this age of "individualism" that everyone is the same, and that our tolerance for people who genuinely think differently is so poor. And yet adolescents ache to be different, yet don't really DO anything different. So? Do it. Do something radical and different and break from the way the West lives. Pray. Read. Think about what the world could be like if there were more breathing, believing, loving Christians.

And as for Chesterton, because Mr. Corrigan and I will refer to him often, remember that none of his opponents found him arrogant. On the contrary, they found him to be one of the humblest men they had met and even his most strident political and philosophical opponents loved him for his brilliance, his warmth, and especially his humour. This is a fight you will win through only the most difficult way, a revolution and reconstruction of the self in the name of God. It is glorious precisely because it is so low and humble, I should say humbling.

Clear?

Okay, okay

I know, I haven't posted in a long time. I'll throw a few things up for you over the weekend. Until then, please enjoy this. Apparently it's only up and free for the next few days! Joss Whedon, Nathan Fillion AND Neil Patrick Harris in a free Evil-Scientist-Musical???

Love it.

desiderantes meliorem patriam … “they desire a better homeland…”

In looking over the blog, I've begun to wonder if we've come across as negative. One of my students wrote in on the com boxes that when I initially presented Chesterton to him, he was turned off, because he saw him as arrogant. Once he realized that Chesterton was anything but arrogant, he was open to what he had to say. My concern is that in trashing those things that rightly deserve to be trashed, Mr. Johnson and myself come off as arrogant as well. Arrogance, or even its appearance, can turn people off from the truth.

Like Chesterton, nothing could be further from the truth with us. I know just enough to know how little I know. More importantly, I know enough to know how much more I could be doing in the world. I'm aware enough to see that there are still giants out there, even in our age, strong, uncompromising, yet handling themselves and those around them with charity and grace.

Some of those giants make their living in downtown Edmonton, at a place called the Marian Centre. They live in the middle of the worst part of Edmonton, having taken promises of obedience, chastity and poverty that they take very seriously. They spend their days praying and helping the poor. They make meals for the poor daily, and live off the same things they give out donations. They are part of a larger group called the Madonna Apostolate. Most of them are not Priests or religious, but just regular folks who have chosen to live a different way.

They, like many of us, were shocked to hear that the famous abortionist Dr. Henry Morgantaler was recently given the Order of Canada for his work in spreading abortion clinics across the country. Unlike me, they did something about it.

Go here to read about it, make sure to scroll down to read their powerful letter to the Governor General.

What I'm not watching this summer....

Here's one for you. What's similar between these four world event:

a. In Darfur, tribes of mostly Christians are being tortured, killed, raped and exiled from their homes. There is no secret to this atrocity,; it is fairly outlined. Expert after expert declares that what is needed is "boots on the ground." In other words guys with guns to stop the insanity.

b. In Tibet, a formerly autonomous country, the people are under foreign control and not allowed the practice their own faith. What's worse, they are being forcibly moved to other regions while non-Tibetans are being settled in their area so that they will soon be a minority in their own country. Cultural genocide. Media are not allowed into the region the report to the world what happens there. Tibetans are fighting, almost exclusively through non-violent means, to gain their freedom.

c. In Zimbabwe, the "President" has just won an election. He did so by outlawing his opponent (who fled into hiding) and forcing the people to the polls at gunpoint. His aide has said that those in the West who oppose this can "go hang a thousand times." Many nations would like see free and fair elections, or at least a suspension of the arms trade to Zimbabwe; arms that are currently being employed against her own citizens.

d. Burma has been taken over by a small group of dictators (who renamed the country Myanmar, a name I don't use because it gives the dictators credence), who refused even food and medical supplies into the country for the citizens who lives were destroyed by natural disasters. The Buddhist monks who led protests against the government have been put behind bars, and it is illegal to disagree with the government. Many countries would like to see strict sanctions against this regime.

Guessed yet? Spoiler alert! Scroll down for the answer.







All three of these things are allowed to go on because of the influence of the Chinese government. Through its influence in regions and its veto at the United Nations security council, these activities are allowed to continue. Certainly there are other countries who block and stall action as well (i.e Russia), but they would likely fall to the wayside without the ringleader, China.

Yet this summer we are called to celebrate China in the Olympic Games. China will be the showcase of the world. Not for me. I believe that both spectators and athletes should boycott the Olympics.

But the Olympics are all about sport you say? A trans political gathering of goodwill, that has nothing to do with politics. Nonsense. If that was the case China would never have wanted the Olympics. The reason they are pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into the Olympics is for the attention it will give their country, and the legitimacy it will give their dictatorial regime.

I'm a sports fan. I enjoy watching the Olympics, but some things are more important.

A Few Days Off

School is done, and I'm heading to the mountains to rest, play with my children, sip cider and puff on my new pipe. A very brief hiatus from blogging ensues; see you Tuesday.

Revolution, Heretics, and Crusade

Or:

Why it's Good that I Want to Storm Constantinople, but a Bad Idea nonetheless...

A recent post made me think of a few other posts, and a horde of comments I've heard over the year. As a highschool teacher in a Catholic school (up here in Canada they're publically funded- which is both good and bad) I've had the fortune of teaching Church history. And the interesting thing is that the majority of my classes, which are optional, are young men.

More interesting is how these normal young men react to words like "heretic" and "Crusade." I would hear the word "heretic" in the hallway (generally as a joke) but the question kept coming up in class as well. Is this person a heretic? This historical figure? This pop culture icon? The question as also come up in the com boxes.

This is something that these fellows gave me a lot of when we were studying the Crusades,a s well. I could see that surge in the blood, as if some of them wanted to come with me to storm the gates of Constantinople (and I'll admit that my blood surges at the image too.) They weren't simply interested in the notion that the Crusades were a necessary act of self-defence on behalf of the West, they were excited about it. And they wanted, on some level, to do something about it.

But where was all of that coming from? Admittedly some of it comes from being men, particularly young men, and relishing the notion of adventure. This isn't a bad thing. Some of it doubtless comes some disgust with how the world is and the fact that it was not always so. Some of it is probably a kind of vindication, that the West isn't necessarily the root of all sins as some of our own brethren would have us believe, leading us like lemmings to some kind of cultural suicide. But another part of it must be that yearning that we have for something beyond us which sometimes leads young men to join gangs but is really a yearning for God.

So, since several of those young gentlemen still read this board, let me remind you of a few things. Heresy still exist, and those who adhere to heresies are indeed heretics. But you need to somehow follow the Christian message before you can try to warp the Christian message, so only those people can be heretics. And it's a tragic diagnosis, not a warcry. (Though you all have the cuteness of puppies at play when you say it.)

Nor can we retake Constantinople, or at least it seems very unlikely at this point. And if Islam ever does fall it will not be to swords, but to Truth. So your war, if you wish to take up the banners of the ancient Crusaders, must be one of Truth and not bloodshed.

This would be the same for any Chestertonian revolution. But the good news is that Chesterton would have been happy to bandy words with you over a good beer at a small pub that felt like home. A Chestertonian revolution would be so very fun. We would roar and wave our walking sticks about, grinning and fighting the world because we love it and hate it at once.

Why Chesterton?

My students often wonder why I have such enthusiasm for Chesterton, a zeal that often outstrips my wonder for more famous writers. The answers are manifold, but here's a shot at putting the whole thing into perspective.

Imagine that Jane Austen (since we've discussed her) was forgotten, almost completely left in the ashes of the past, abandoned by the literary canon. Now imagine that you, being a fan of fine words and British literature, are introduced to this stuff by a friend. Imagine your surprise at learning that one of the greatest writers in English history had been forgotten. It would be a tragedy, would it not?

Now stretch that a bit, a great bit, and put in her place a great, fat, jolly specimen of an Englishman: Chesterton. He wrote far more than Austen did (I've read of his four books, a few dozen essays, a handful of short stories and poems yet I have barely scratched the surface of this mammoth collection) and he was widely known in his day. He was friends with many prominent names, debated almost anyone of any importance who would try him, always winning, and was loved by friend and foe alike. People would travel for miles around just to hear the man speak.

And have you heard that Chesterton's Everlasting Man was one of the reasons C.S. Lewis converted to Christianity, or that he was an influence on Tolkien? Or that dozens of writers from Hemingway to Kafka were admirers as well? Or that his book on Dickens was one of the reasons that author saw his own revival in the early 20th century? Did you know that one of the most influential hagiographers (an academic whose specialty is saints) of the 20th Century, Etienne Gilson, greatly admired his work on St. Thomas Aquinas?

This is Chesterton. His writing is not only beautiful, lyrical at times, but also brilliant. And he has been forgotten in a way that is truly frustrating for his admirers. One of the greatest Canadian writers, Robertson Davies, called Chesterton the most unfairly forgotten writer of the 20th century. But my zeal grows greater because I don't think it's an accident that Chesterton was forgotten. Because he was Catholic.

Tolkien, you might note, was also Catholic yet remains popular. But Chesterton was a warrior (named a Defender of the Faith by the Pope, and a better one then Henery - Henery!), his arguments irrefutable, his worldview vast and inescapable. A postmodernist has great difficulty answering Chesterton, so the postmodernist ignores Chesterton.

In his way, Chesterton was a greater phenomenon than Jane Austen, yet unlike her he is forgotten. So, sometimes I speak with the zeal of the converted because I've only been poking into Chesterton's works for so little time (the past two years only.) But I read him because his writing is beautiful, and his thoughts similarly so.

For a long time now I've been trying to escape the mind-slavery of our time. That's what brought me to the study of history, and to literature. I've also been trying to recover a Catholic imagination, the psychology or perspective that my ancestoprs had when they looked out at the world. And I find that, as I read Chesterton, I not only discover the Catholic imagination. I slowly begin to assume it into who I am.

These aren't the cats you're looking for

Good day all. Thanks to the ineffable Mr. Johnson for managing to compliment me and essentially force me to join his blog all in one masterstroke. Well played!

I am just recently returned from one of what certainly ranks as the high points of my short (much shorter than other posters) life so far. A G.K Chesterton conference. Please, contain yourself. Mountain Dew through the nose is not becoming. I'm serious. In case you missed it, the large fellow to the left is not me, but in fact is Mr. Chesterton himself. He was a prolific author of the early twentieth century; though his material sounds eerily like it was written for us a hundred years later.

This the conference focused on one of Chesterton's masterpieces, Orthodoxy. It will be 100 years old this September. He wrote it as a challenge. He had written a book called "Heretics" outlining many of the incorrect streams of thought that were popular then (and today), and systematically crushed them. Upon reading this book, many critics challenged Chesterton not just to attack others theories, but to submit his own. He gladly accepted the challenge, his theory was Christian Orthodoxy. In it he outlines his own "spiritual journey", he creates a system for himself and discovers it is a pale imitation of the 1900 year old Church.

His style, humour, wit are magnificent additions to his profound and deep message about humanity, about civilization, about Christianity. A great primer on Chesterton is "Common Sense 101" by Dale Alquist, president of the American Chesterton Society. It is available here.
At the conference, we were treated to a chapter by chapter ride through Orthodoxy by speakers from around the world. Here is a sample section from the book.

Modern masters of science are much impressed with the need of beginning all inquiry with a fact. The ancient masters of religion were quite equally impressed with that necessity. They began with the fact of sin—a fact as practical as potatoes. Whether or no man could be washed in miraculous waters, there was no doubt at any rate that he wanted washing. But certain religious leaders in London, not mere materialists, have begun in our day not to deny the highly disputable water, but to deny the indisputable dirt. Certain new theologians dispute original sin, which is the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved. Some followers of the Reverend R. J. Campbell, in their almost too fastidious spirituality, admit divine sinlessness, which they cannot see even in their dreams. But they essentially deny human sin, which they can see in the street.

The strongest saints and the strongest sceptics alike took positive evil as the starting-point of their argument. If it be true (as it certainly is) that a man can feel exquisite happiness in skinning a cat, then the religious philosopher can only draw one of two deductions. He must either deny the existence of God, as all atheists do; or he must deny the present union between God and man, as all Christians do. The new theologians seem to think it a highly rationalistic solution to deny the cat.

Regarding Certain Cutting Remarks

Ok, they weren't cutting, not at all; but I couldn't resist the pun. A reader commented on our local "educational" show, Body Worlds, and asked why our local bishops have been against it. On the other side of it, I was actually surprised that they didn't speak more strongly. So, a few things:

First: the charge that the Church was against autopsies for medical purposes during the Middle Ages. That bit of pop-history is false (as is the idea that medieval people believed the Earth was flat. They actually had a good idea of its circumference.) Medieval men were not stupid, not any more stupid than their modern counterparts at any rate (and often less so.) For more on that you'd have to study, but here's a reasonable article by peer-reviewed academics. It gives a fair representation of how the period is understood by those who study it for a living (the whole piece is good, but check the part regarding the Dark Ages.) The article is here. But if this is common knowledge for academics, why would there be such a disconnect between academia and common history? My notions on that aren't at all kind, so never mind. (Oh fine, here it is: I think it suits most people to think poorly of their ancestors. If the people of yesterday were stupid neanderthals, we can forge bravely ahead into madness, right? It's more convenient to discount the past than to actually engage it.)

As for the Bishops of Edmonton (Latin and Ukrainian rite) and their document. If you actually read it, you find that the Bishops aren't against science at all; they are simply for humanity. So let's take stock for a moment. Here we have an exhibit of human bodies in various poses with all sorts of folks paying to come and take a look. They (the human beings, the people on display) gave their bodies to science, presumably for medical research, the training of doctors, etc. But that isn't what's going on. Instead we get something that really harkens back to a day when insensitivity reigned and people really were a bit nastier than today. What we have, ladies an gentlemen, children of all ages, is an honest to goodness Freakshow, complete with admission payments and snacks and giggling children.

Now, if there were something you could accomplish with plastinated corpses that you couldn't do as well with plastic models, I'd agree with the whole thing. But is this medically necessary? Is there any research going on? These were people once, with families, with dreams, and they died. A measure of a people is how we honour our dead and this is a contemptible treatment of humanity without any of the necessity of research or medical training, or organ donation for that matter. These aren't Med students filing through, gawking at the flayed corpses; it's regular folk come for a glimpse. It isn't a matter of rushing a heart to a transplant recipient. If I ever give my organs to some anonymous person, I hope he doesn't inflate my bladder and use it like a ball to amuse his children.

That would be medieval.

Guest Blogger!

Don't be surprised if you come across the occasional post by a good friend of mine, Mr. Corrigan. Some of you have met the man (and fortunate you were.) The past fifteen years for me have been filled with talking with this man, both in laughter and in argument. It's become almost habit with me to want to flesh out ideas with him; those who know us well find our pack mentality in debate annoying. But, to quote Mr. Miyagi, "If done right, no can defense."

What I'm saying is that this is a friend so dear to me that any thought without his stamp seems only half complete to me. And so he has graciously accepted my invitation to throw his own thoughts in here from time to time.

Punchlines and Angry German Philosophers

So, how was Nietzsche the father of the Nazi movement and not Christianity? I'll be adding to this post (it's exam season) but let me start you with an article by a man I admire, Peter Kreeft (any Kreeft book on the philosophers or the Church is worth reading.)

So, I'm cheating. But it's Kreeft. Enjoy.

Finally, an addition.

So Nietzsche is a bit hard to pin down, but here are a few things you can highlight. As Kreeft says, these come from simply taking Nietzsche at his word. And if this does not satisfy as a mode of analysis (and often it will not do) then we must remind ourselves that the Nazis certainly seemed to take him at his word. Sort of a Nietzschean Fundamentalism (though I think any attempt to live Nietzsche's philosophy is mad.)

So, some highlights:

1) Nietzsche's assumption is that there is no God, the Universe has no ontological (meaning built-in) meaning.
2) Nietzsche believed that there is strength and weakness (much akin to Hemingway's expression of existentialism, actually. But Hemingway drank instead of trying to take over Europe. He was a freedom fighter, not a monster.) This belief in only strength and weakness led Nietzschea few places.
3) Since there is no good, no God, there is only the force of human will. Will and strength are one.
4) There are moral systems that praise strength and moral systems that praise weakness. Master Morality vs Slave Morality. And slave morality, which glorifies weakness and gives it names like "mercy" saps the strength out of men. In Nietzsche's mind, these systems (including Judaism and Christianity alike) are abominations.
5) A Master Morality is necessary to foster strength and usher in the age of the Superman (can you say ubermensch?)

Now, the Nazis ate this stuff up and tried to put it into practise as well as they could. That is why certain terms show up in Nazi lingo: Ubermensch (Supermen), Master Race, Slave Race. That's why eradicating the Jews was more than just a scapegoat thing; the Nazis thought the world would be better off without them. And that is also why, among the saints and martyrs, there are those Catholics (and other Christians of course) who died at the hands of the Nazis specifically because they were Christians.

Nietzsche, Jesus, and Hitler walk into a bar...

Or: Dawkins, Christianity, and the Nazis. Who belongs to whom?

So, in his efforts to show how religion is really a nasty business (particularly Christianity) Dawkins points out that Hitler was born Roman Catholic, and claims that Nazism is really just a natural offshoot of Christianity. He isn't alone in doing this; uber-atheist Christopher Hitchens does the same.

Why?

Christians get unhappy with being accused of atrocities and having all the world's ills blamed on the their religion (though it isn't the first time they've been accused of being enemies of humanity, the irony of which is hopefully not lost on my readers.) Some Christians point out that we get to see two fairly important atheist regimes at work in the twentieth century, the Nazis and Soviets. Between the two millions were killed, and while this hardly goes to prove that atheists are nasty monsters (the opposite is usually true) it does show that atheists are capable of terrible things.

And that does not satisfy the militant atheist. He is not satisfied with an arguable human equality; he wants his system to be morally superor to his religious counterpart. So, it becomes important to make the counter-claim, palying hot-potato with those nasty Nazis and asserted that they are (keep a straight face) Christian.

The accusation would be laughable if it weren't so terrible. Here these atheists are claiming that Christianity is responsible for the Nazis and the Holocaust when the historical record is that Christians were suffering alongside the Jews, albeit in fewer numbers. No historian in any serious, accredited University, is ever going to claim this. Yet Dawkins and Hitchens do.

So, let's take a look. And bear in mind, it's getting close to final exams so I'm going to lean on other sources a bit. But some of them are pretty fascinating:

Here are pdf reproductions of Nuremburg documents covering the Nazi attack on Christianity and the attempt to replace it with a nationalist, Aryan religion.

Here is an interview with a Vatican official (a Jesuit priest) working on the committee for the canonization of Pope Pius XII. It represents historically demonstrable truth. Of particular interest was the very unusual decision to write an encyclical in German and smuggle it into Germany to be read in Catholic churches across the country.

In the New York Times' editorial of December 25, 1941 we read:

"The voice of Plus Xll is a lonely voice in the silence and darkness enveloping Europe this Christmas... he is about the only ruler left on the Continent of Europe who dares to raise his voice at all... the Pope put himself squarely against Hitlerism... he left no doubt that the Nazi aims are also irreconcilable with his own conception of a Christian peace."

And, because too many think the Church just went along with Hitler, and that the Pope was in his pocket, consider this.

I find it frustrating in the extreme (and by that I mean I get over run by rage) when I think of what history shows, and how history is then hijacked by people with their own philosophical agendas, all the while ignoring the immense pain that people in Europe were suffering back then. No one blamed the Church then, the Jews themselves declared Pope Pius XII a righteous man in his day. Who the hell are these people who think they can blame these monstrous acts on those who in some measure shared in a victimhood that is appalling? Certainly no one suffered as the Jews did, but Hitler was ruthless to anyone who opposed him.

So, whatever Nazism was, it didn't come from Christianity. So, where did it come from? That comes tomorrow, with the punchline...

Dawkins and Philosophy

Alternate Title: Big Bang Bites Man!

Okay, so let me state something for the record. What I'm about to offer is not meant to be a compelling proof of God's existence. My answer is not evidence but faith which, contrary to the opinion of some, is not akin to fairy tales (unless you think your mother's love is akin to fairy tales - hopefully not the ogre-ish kind.) It is meant to be a response to the atheist assumption that belief in God is not rational. By the end of this post, my hope is that you can at least sit back and say "I get it" and see that there is validity to the theistic proposition that matter/energy/spact/time isn't all there is.

So.

One of my problems with Dawkins is that he ignores the philosophical dimension of Christianity and attacks the very ugly caricature of a religion that he's created. For example, he ignores the necessary questions raised by Big Bang theory, such as: "What caused it?" The question of first causes has been around for hundreds of years. Basically the idea is this: The universe contains and is everything physical. It is made of matter and energy in all their forms existing in a matrix (that just means spatial context) of space and time. Before the Big Bang (and I use the word "before" metaphorically here, since there was no "before" due to time not existing, time being a physical substance) there was nothing. Then there was something. What was the cause of that first explosion of light and energy?

Yes, yes, some posit that there has simply been an infinite number of explosions, universal expansions, and eventual contractions. Two rseponses: First, that only pushes back the question, where did all this matter come from? Nothing comes from nothing, so where is all this from? Second, recent evidence is that the universe is accelerating in its expansion, not slowing down as it should. A question: Where is the "energy" coming from to cause space to expand at an ever increasing rate? Who's driving this crazy thing?

Are there several answers? Certainly. Are they logical? They may well be. But my point here is that the universe needs a cause, something which itself is non-physical and does not require that matrix of space and time to exist. If we compared the whole physical universe, with all its matter/energy/space/time to a globe of water, we would need a First Cause that was able to exist outside that globe of water. Again, "outside" here is used metaphorically. The theist's answer is that, if we move down the checklist, we see some familiar things. So we need something that would Cause or Create (check.) This thing needs to be non-physical in nature (dare we use the word- spiritual? check, check.) As a non-physical reality this Thing therefore is without measure both physically and in time, since it is outside of that bubble of the Universe (and here, we can use the word, infinite- check, check, check.) This is the theist's God.

I know, I know, there is nothing in this exploration that requires the Christian God. No, it doesn't and you could believe this theory and attach all sorts of religions to it. That's fine, and Deism is a god example of where you could go. The point, again, is to show that the theistic proposition is a rational one, not the lump of superstitions presented by Dawkins. You may disagree with the theory, but you should at least allow that it is reasonable. Oh, and there are good articles on the history of the Big Bang theory (I get a kick out of that one) and St. Thomas Aquinas and Big Bang Theory.

For the record, let's call this Proposition A.

A Word: Empirical!

Very briefly, we would be fools to limit ourselves to empirical evidence alone. It is certainly compelling, but faith in the empirical is not the primary foundation of argument. The first assumption in most rational argument is that things exist. Consider for a moment: Do you hav direct evidence that the physical exists? Really? All our data is second hand, analog rather than digital if you will, passed on through the senses. I can see that this thing exists, you cry! Really? And how are you sure that your physical senses exist? If you try to empirically prove the existence of your own senses you will be engaged in a circular argument: "I know my senses exist because my senses inform me of their presence." Sorry, not good enough.

That's why the existentialists have a point: I can only be absolutely certain of the existence of my own mind (That's what Cogito ergo sum means: I think therefore I am.) Everything else beyond my own bare existence is uncertain. You can't prove your physicality since the only thing you directly experience are your own thoughts; your senses could be imagined. And that's something we can't disprove. So much for empiricism, since it can't fight us out of this particular wet paper bag.

And it is a wet paper bag if we're willing to turn to something that offers proofs which are non-physical: logic. Sartre tells me that I can only know my own thoughts? Fine. Logic then can do the work that empiricism can't.

For example, I can use logic to point out that my five senses seem to exist because they all have a different basis (apparently) yet they all give the same data. Things that look round also feel round. Of course, the existentialist will point out that these could also be imagined. Very well. But Hume, God bless his Scottish soul, provided some limitations to existentialism. If all that exists is the mind, then where did it come up with the idea of a tree, or a rock, or notions of trigonometry? How would it come up with a frame of reference without that any of these things exist? It is, if you ever study philosophy, a compelling point.

But the mind can also accomplish this, which is the Catholic answer. You say I cannot "know" anything with what you call "certainty?" That's fine. There are any number of things we believe that can neither be proven nor disproven because they can't be directly measured, weighed, put under the microscope. Things like love, God, freedom, mercy, goodness, evil, the human will. Yet we have faith in these things, so it doesn't bother us if we add the whole of physical existence to the mix. Faith, after all, is an act of will, choosing to trust that a thing like love or God's salvation exists. We trust God that He is there. So I trust my senses as I trust my wife's love, two things I depend on, neither of which I can prove empirically.

So, frankly, philosophy is more useful than science and empiricism rests on a philosophical assumption and not on hard facts.

If we argue God's existence, then, let's rely on rational argument and not a flawed and doomed addiction to physical proof (this, by the way, is the error of both Dawkins AND the Intelligent Design crew that try to prove God through science.)

Why Study History?

The past two posts have been a bit of a reminder for me of how much I enjoy the study of history. It is, I think, undervalued - maybe because there aren't enough "concrete" benefits to for a utilitarian culture. But I think it's essential, and here's why:

History doesn't just help give you perspective on why the world is the way it is (though it can do that.) History is about freedom and identity, freedom from the slavery of imagining only one worldview and the ability to develop an identity which spans the centuries rather than relying on name brand logos.

Study history; pick your period. Read it, study it, imagine it and you'll find, in time, that the people in those hazy times start to come into focus. They become more human, motivated like humans, sharing in our basic blend of dreams and hopes, fear and suffering, bravery and weakness. You'll be delighted with some of the ways they responded to challenge, uplifted by the fact that it isn't simply the 21st century version of Homo sapiens that has the capacity for creativity. In short, you will find yourself sympathizing with these people. In time you may come to love them.

And: If you can bring yourself to to love another age for its people, its dress, and its customs you are finally free. You can at last turn your eyes back on your own time and judge it with some clarity. You'll still be in your time - nothing can turn the clock back- but you will be a little less beholden to it, its claws won't be so deep in you.

That leaves you free to keep the good and reject the bad, since every age will have both. It is also, ladies and gentlemen, a way to achieve a real non-conformism that so many youth seem to yearn for.

And as for identity, just imagine your own memory for a moment. Your memory is so integral to your being that your very self-identity would collapse without it. How can I have a sense of myself if I've forgotten everything? Imagine it for a moment, looking out on the world and recognizing nothing. Imagine having lived a life but not recalling any single choice you've ever made. How do you know anything at all?

Ignorance of history is like amnesia on a vast scale. How are we in the West supposed to have a good sense of what the "West" even means if we've forgotten everything? There have been attempts at inventing a history, but these are coloured by a desire to justify the present. So, most of our stereotypes of the past, of the middle ages for example, are negative. All we see are brutes mucking about in a dark age that was only illuminated by the light of science and secularism.

What that means though, in some ways, is that you're being asked to assume the worst of your ancestors. Studying history is a reconnection with those ancestors, like renewing a relationship with your beloved grandparents. Because the history of our civilization is not just necessary to the broader culture, but as an act of renewal and self-discovery for the individual.

Which brings me back to the Church. If you are of European ancestry your history is Catholic. Your ancestors celebrated the sacraments in stone churches under starry skies. Your blood is full of the assumptions bred into you by a hundred generations of Catholic thought: the sanctity of life, the equality of man, free will, the beauty of the individual. A rigorous and imaginative study of history will bear this out.

Another Horror in History

Ok, a very brief post this time. The other big rock that gets thrown at Catholics in particular is the Inquisition (and yes, I restrain myself, since you should have all expected - this time at least - the Spanish Inquisition.) The mythology that has emerged around this thing is amazing, including the happy neo-pagans and their claims that millions of women were killed during the "Burning Times." Well, the Burning Times never happened, and the Spanish Inquisition didn't kill tens of thousands of innocents. The truth is much more complex, much more human, and far less sinister than the Church's critics would like to believe. Forunately, the Spanish Inquisition was made up of trained legal minds who left reams and reams of archival evidence of their machinations. And it ends up looking less than conpiratorial.

Here are two good articles on the subject. Yes, people died in this time. Yes, that is terrible. But the scale of the thing leaves one feeling that perhaps the source of so much outcry should feel more evil.

Read here and here for a pretty good idea of how current historians view the whole thing. It's too bad that contemporary academic work tends to take so long to filter down to the masses, or we might be able to hope for a break from the pseudo-history.

Dawkins and the Horrors or Religion

One of the things that Dawkins and the new atheists like to do is point out the terrible things that religion has done over the ages. They pull together enough examples to leave their audience stupefied and conclude, rather wildly, that religion must be therefore evil. Or, at least, the world would be better off without it. All of it.

There are a lot of problems with this, both historical and logical. The logical problem is this: do religious communities perform atrocities because they are religious, or because they're made up of humans. Again I wonder if Dawkins has used that handy old scientific method to isolate his variables. For example, do we see less aggression, greed, etc from atheists than we do from normal people? I'd certainly never argue that atheists can't be good people; I think they can be. But are we suddenly going to take the dizzying leap into saying that atheists tend to be better people, more generous, forgiving, etc? Shouldn't we have a problem with atheists even using the word "better" and thereby imposing their morals on us? That's what they accuse me of doing. Isn't that at least a little bit ironic?

Historically, the case is even better. The trouble here is that neither Dawkins nor his ilk seems to have read any recent, peer-reviewed literature on some of the pop-history they're parading around. (And yes, for the record, I have - history is my background. No pun intended.) Here are two big examples, since Christianity is often picked on in these debates, being the dominant faith in the West.

We'll deal with one thing at a time, since they're worth talking about in their own right. Others will get their own posts. First up:

1) The Crusades! Look at that, shout the new atheists, "Holy wars! Holy wars!!!" Much is made of this one, but it's a canard. And, honestly, the objective version is much more interesting. So:

The Pop-History Version: Those nasty Europeans, goaded by that nasty pope, launched a war against those poor people in the Holy Land. I hardly have to go into it; all the stereotypes speak for themselves. And, admittedly, atrocities occurred on both sides in this war as in any war. The attacks on Jews, for example, or the sack of Constantinople. But consider-

The Historical History: Europe at the time of the Crusades was hardly a super power. In fact, Islam was far more powerful and culturally advanced than Europe. Europe was the underdog and, more importantly, Christianity was the underdog that had been beaten back by the conquering Muslims for the first 400 years after Mohammed. In the first hundred years of Islam's life a full half of Christian lands fell to their armies. After the dominance of the Romans, this was an impressive feat.

But they also continued from their, pushing across North Africa into Spain and Sicily, taking much of Asia Minor (Turkey.) The Byzantine emperors fought as well as they could, with some success, but then the nomadic Seljuks arrived from the steppes, converted to Islam, and layed waste to the Bysantine Empire. In desperation the Emperor called on the Western Pope for aid and he was answered.

The old idea was that knights went for the purpose of gaining land, but current scholarship has knocked that theory on the head. Many who went were already wealthy and funded both themselves and their retinues. It was an extremelt costly endeavour and a knight would have to provide his own supplies, requiring as much as a year worth of income. Modern historians are discovering that crusaders generally believed in what they were doing, which was pushing back an oppressor that had been hounding them for centuries.

In that sense, the Crusades were a series of defensive wars fought to stem the attacks on Constantinople and to take back some of what had been lost, especially Jerusalem. In the end they were a failed defense, though they were able to accomplish wonders with the small number of men who actually made it, and considering how rarely they were given reinforcements. But it was a wash, and the world of Islam remained undiminished.

For a Christian Europe that wanted to remain Christian this was unfortunate. Islam continued pressing on its borders, taking lands in Eastern Europe and holding Spain until almost 1500. In 1453 the Muslims took Constantinople (renaming it Istanbul of all things, which was just a bastardization/mispronunciation of the Greek word for "The City") and continued pressing in on Europe. As late as 1683 the Ottoman Turks threatened Vienna itself, though they failed in that at least.

In the end it was only the discovery of the New World and the wealth that came with it that allowed Europe to build the ships and the armies it would take to defeat Islam. Much later it was the Europeans who were colonizing. But that was much later. If we examine the Crusades we see a very different picture than mere imperialism. Europe was too weak and divided to be imperial in its ambitions, and imposing an 18th Century vision of Europe onto the 11th Century hardly seems fair. Colonialism hadn't even been invented yet!

Now, every culture has a right to exist. European culture also has that right. The Crusades were a matter of a civilization struggling and failing to defend itself from an outside threat. Christianity was certainly involved, since the words Europe and Christian were (at the time) more or less synonymous.

Summation? Here's one historical nugget that often gets cited as a proof of how brutal religion is at its core. And yet these wars were justifiable, far more so than some of the recent conflicts we've seen in the name of democracy.

Dawkins and the Scientific Method

A brief word on Dawkins and the scientific method: First, I do respect this man's capabilities as a scientist. The man is Oxford trained and is vastly influential in genetic and evolutionary biology. However, when he departs from science into the realm of religious debate he seems to forget the very objectivity and consideration that make the scientific method work.

I responded to someone in a comment box that I thought Dawkins was deficient in his consideration of the other side of the God question. He has not read Thomas Aquinas, for example, or any of the other philosophical heavy-weights (Aquinas really was a heavy-weight) supporting a theistic world-view. His response is that he doesn't have to, that the opposing view is so ridiculous that it doesn't bear examination. One response of his was to point out that we hardly need to read the works of leprechaunologists in order to dismiss a belief in leprechauns.

I disagree.

Or, I should say, I would agree that Dawkins doesn't need to study "leprechaunology" unless the majority of humanity for the vast majority of human existence believed in leprechauns. I would have to disagree with Dawkins and insist that we look more closely if the belief in leprechauns had become the basis of various moral systems and legal codes. I would disagree if millions alive today claimed that faith in leprechauns had changed their lives for the better, or if belief in leprechauns had become inspiration for much of the world's best art.

If all of these things were true, that the belief in leprechauns was widespread and deeply important to people, I might still simply dismiss it like the old atheists would, content in my personal freedom from the wee folk. But Dawkins doesn't do that; the new atheist isn's satisified with his own personal state. The new atheist needs to prove it to others. And if I, like Dawkins, were trying to prove that leprechauns didn't exist, and that belief in leprechauns was foolish, it would be incumbent on me to at least look at the real beliefs of these faerie-worshippers in order to properly engage them. And further, if I then claimed that belief in leprehcauns was a major cause of war and suffering, if I claimed that teaching children about leprechauns amounted to child-abuse then I might have a responsibility to respond to the objections of my detractors.

This sort of glib leprechaun statement is such a dodge. That sort of belief, in fairies, is so harmless and risible that it doesn't rate a real debate. But then, you wouldn't write books about the "Leprechaun Delusion" if it weren't worthy of debate, would you? So treating the whole theistic mindset, whether Christian or Jew or otherwise, as if it equates with childhood fantasy, is not a sincere attempt at engaging in a debate. And Dawkins has engaged these systems in debate, so the question still remains: how does he respond to Aquinas or the many others who have presented reasonable cases for the belief in God?

Dawkins is primarily a scientist. He's the one who went out on a limb and proposed his theory that runs counter to the Christian theory. But he attempts to do so without seriously examining the Christian body of work on the matter, without inquiring about our intellectual methods (and they do exist.)

If nothing else, it is Dawkins' stature as a heavy-weight scientist that places him in a situation where we have to criticize his objectivity. He's so personally certain of this thing that he refuses to look into it, not even to further the debate, equating all those who oppose him as participating in a childish delusion. And it's that personal certainty that's the problem; it's not at all scientific.

This all in itself doesn't constitute an argument, nor does it touch on the substance of what theistic philosophers would argue if Dawkins were to read them. It is simply an opener to suggest the possibility of a gap in Dawkins thinking.

Dawkins and the New Atheism

In the next week I plan a spree of posts dealing with Richard Dawkins. But when I refer to Dawkins, I'm also referring to a new brand of atheism that is not satisfied with unbelief but feels a moral obligation to spread the good word to the people. This new atheism is militant, spreading, and carries with it views of history and humanity that a Catholic must object to.

Again, I am a Catholic writing with a Catholic philosophy. It is my opinion that my set of beliefs are reasonable and good, though ultimately not proveable. Dawkins does not believe that my beliefs are justified by reason and believes the world would be a better place without them. I believe his position amounts to ill-considered bigotry.

Now, there are enough points to argue in this that I'll be breaking it down into pieces. Please feel free to point out anything I haven't touched on yet; if it isn't already on my list of items I'll gladly add it. Last, this represents my core beliefs. I've come to this place through a long road of reading, thinking, arguing, etc. I think I'm right, which is fair since I wouldn't be standing on this little hill and defending it if I thought I was wrong. You're more than welcome to comment or argue, but please maintain courtesy and fairness while doing so. I will attempt to do the same.

Richard Dawkins - An Introduction

Here's a lovely fellow for you, if you've never heard of him: Richard Dawkins. He's a briliant scientist and a famous, outspoken atheist. In fact, his atheism has become something of a crusade, as he thinks that the world would be better off without religion. Hitler, for example, is something he lays at the feet of Christianity (rather than Nietzsche, say.) If Christianity did not exist then there would have been no Nazis. Lovely.

So, the man is mad and woefully unformed in matters of philosophy. I'll post on free will and genetics next week, for example, and you'll see where he falls down. Hell, we'd better discuss the whole Darwinist catastrophe (one which Darwin himself would roundly reject.)

For now, watch this and consider this a friendly introduction. And, yes, millions of people listen to this man, read his books, and agree that the world would be a better place without religion. Long live diversity!!!

Oh. Did I mention he's on record as saying he considers it child abuse to raise a child in a religious atmosphere?

Richard Dawkins Owned, Note he did not answer the question

I love guys like Dawkins. By all accounts he's a wonderful chemist. But he's a lousy philosopher without much grasp on the logic of ideas. Unfortunately he's part of a new wave of militant atheists who believe that they can prove God doesn't exist, and that religion is evil. Now, of course, we might inform Mr. Dawkins that if God doesn't exist then nothing is objectively evil, so he should stop bothering us with his subjective and relative constructions of the real. Bah.

In Defense of The United States: Part One

An interesting response to a goofy tid-bit here prompted this post, a defense of the Americans. I'll probably post a few of these just to clear the air about what I think of the American people. This is a blog, and people have a right to their own opinions. But keep the following in mind (Warning, warning! Opinion inbound!)

I think American history has left an indelible mark on the American psyche, both for good or ill. Their War of Independence saw them bleed for their freedom, and their experiment in democracy was as a result one of the best beginnings to a human political endeavour. I say again: the American experiement started as well as anything the world has ever seen (and I'm thinking of times and places like the early Roman Republic.) It started far better than the French with their Revolution, for example, that muddled thing that ended in an Emperor anyway.

The founding fathers of the United States were great men, and the United States has it within itself to be great (in its good moments it may just be the best damned country on the planet.) I'll make that case, which is a weird one for me, over the next few weeks.

For now, let me say two things. First, all the things we say to criticize the American people they freely do themselves. They are a political people, like any, so they'll disagree with one another while they're doing it, but few would say and mean "My country right or wrong" (which Chesterton said was like proclaiming "My mother, drunk or sober.") So they hold certain things fairly dearly, and we should value them from that.

The second thing is this. Look at our country. Canadians are generally a pretty decent people: friendly, relatively peaceful, all of that. But we can be smug. Oh we can be smug. And yet we do as much, on our scale, to hurt others as anyone. Our military is small, so our imperialism doesn't manifest in the form of fighter squadrons or carrier groups, but our banks and our multinationals have proven very effective at taking it to the little guy.

A case study (and home-work for anyone who's curious): Google "Canadian Mining Companies" and scroll past the actual corporate websites to the many reports on atrocities in Africa or South America. Canadian companies own more than 50% of the world's mining corporations. There are places you don't want to admit Canadian citizenship because of that.

Another thought: Look at our standard of living. We're part of that small North American population that consumes to much of the world's resources (40% or something like that? Anyone?) We live on the blood of others as much as any Westerner. So, Iraq aside, we don't have a great deal to brag about.

Ben. Yes, I write this as an ode to the flower that is you. But don't take it too heavily; you just sparked some thoughts, and I appreciate the comments. You're a good man.

Us and Them

Continuing with my notion that Canadian culture ought to be an offshoot of British rather than American culture, I thought I'd make a brief comparison. Ahem- at least they share a colour.









British culture gave us this.









The American equivalent, while strong on enthusiasm, lacks something in historical nuance...







My question: How many ways can you think of in which these two pictures represent the differences between British and American?

Men and Jane Austen

I might have listed this under "the Problem with Jane Austen" but it seemed to deserve its own heading. The problem is that the most likely to resist Jane Austen (or similar literature) in the classroom are the young men. Some aren't into it; some are against it altogether. Some claim they don't like the characters, etc, etc, etc...

I think it's common to have men reluctant to read real literature. Our society doesn't exactly go out of its way to promote literature as something "manly" after all, and the breakdown of males vs females in the academic literature classroom isn't in favour of boys at all. But literature isn't of itself a feminine pursuit; it's a human pursuit, as human as dreaming. If anything our culture is a bit out of sync, and is experiencing a pretty word reverse-sexist thing where men avoid letters (esp. here in Alberta!) whereas a century ago it would have been men who in many ways dominated letters. Solutions? Hug your children! Other than that or the occasional rant, I don't know.

But Jane Austen, by God, is something worth reading. Aside from some of the patriotic stuff I pushed a few days ago there's the sheer humanity of it. Love! Passion! And the male characters! Gentlemen, if you've read the book, read it again and pay close attention to Mr. Darcy. A manlier man there is none. Even his faults are simply manly virtues misperceived through the haze of prejudice started by Wickham. Chesterton (who?) thought that Austen understoon men better than some men he knew. And if you look at the men in the book, this is true. Wickham, Bingley, Darcy and Mr. Collins are all types of men we see around us (well, maybe not Collins) and the mistakes they make are related to their respective characters.

Yes, the unaccustomed mind doesn't immediately see all of this in the reading. But that's what practise is about. If you read carefully (slowly enough as if you meant to -gasp- enjoy the book) you'll find sarcasm, dry wit, genuine warmth and a sense of romance that is not at all restricted to women. God help us all if only the women in the world oare capable of that!

Gentlemen, read the books. If nothing else, you don't want to turn yourself into the sort of man who genuinely doesn't understand women nor care for their pleasures, their dreams, or the kind who genuinely thinks that the sorts of things a woman values are weak. You want to be that guy? Good luck getting married.

Long Weekend Blog Break

more on Monday

"Progressives" and the Lot of the Common Man

I plan on writing several posts about this idea: that the left, in its own way, is as bent on the repression of the common man as the right is. This is, surprise, surprise, a central idea that comes up when reading Chesterton. (Who is he? Check here. There's a solid introduction to him as well as a lot of his work.)

Generally the idea is this. Once upon a time people owned things. They owned land, their own businesses, their own houses. That time has passed, and with it a lot of the autonomy that people used to enjoy. Chesterton blames this on big industry and big government, and you shouldn't be surprised to read more about that later.

What I'd like to focus on is a certain feel on the Left that's hard to pin down, as if the common man isn't to be respected. Think of the very term "common man." It used to be something you could refer to in stirring tones, as if it were the common man holding things together (which was and is often the case.) Or consider the ideas of common wisdom, common law, common sense. They all used to have a certain weight to them. No longer. And why?

There are probably a few answers to that question. One is certainly the slow failing of Tradition in the West (along with its prophets, the elderly, who here like no place else are mocked and marginalized.)

Another big one is the marginalization of the common man himself (and -ahem- herself.) To say common implies things in common, meaning normalcy. And normalcy itself has become a taboo word to the Politically Correct crowd. The Progressive stands for progress, which means Change, which means that simply doing with people has always done has to go, whether it was good or not. And the fruits are heavy: relativism, transhumanism, some would say the impending demographic crisis in the West (more than impending if you're Russian.)

These are the days, I believe, in which the West either falls are somehow redefines and reinvigorates itself (and it has done so in the past.) The upcoming posts on the Common Man will outline why I think the normal, everyday people we pass on the streets will have more to do with that than any dubious cultural elite.

Man, oh Man!

Like wow! A brief word on how I intend on using language on this site. I will use words like "he" and "man" (though not together, I think - that part of my childhood is well behind me) and I will use them in the generic sense, a default grammatical expression when the biological gender of a thing is unknown or when the group is mixed, as in Mankind.

Sexism! you cry. No. In fact it isn't. Many think so, bu that's simply because they haven't dug deeply enough. The word homo in Latin, for example, is known as a common noun. That means it can be used for humans of either sex. Likewise the word "man" began as a common noun way back before the days of dark Grendel, in the shadowy roots of continental linguistic history (think thousands of years.) Then mann in Germanic languages meant a person of either sex, and the special words wer (think werewolf) and wif-man (woman) were used when referring specifically to one or the other. Edmund Burke could use the word to use both sexes as late as the last days of the 18th century, only two-hundred years ago. ("Such a deplorable havoc is made in the minds of men (both sexes) in France")

The individual use of man has become distinct in its reference to an adult male, but the collective "Man" and "Mankind" remain, or ought to remain. Reference to the collective "human" lacks any poetic weight, after all. Too clinical.

Therefore I will use the term as it has always been used (the case is similar for "he"). My household is not a particularly sexist place, and I hold that men and women are equal in worth and in dignity. That's non-negotiable for me. But I won't needlessly sacrifice language for that, nor will I avoid or any way censor older writers.

So there.

BBC Documentary

I want it to be true!

Word of the Day: Antidisestablish-Americanism???

Or "A Refinement"

There have been enough posts about this (and a few questions in the hall) that's I'd like to refine the whole "American Lit" vs "British Lit" thing.

First, let me say that the revolution brought about by American Literature in the second half of the twentieth century was good. The literature it has produced, at its highest, is good. Further, I'm pretty fond of a lot of that literature myself, both the good stuff and a lot of the dime-store stuff. And though I get tired of some shock-writers (who will not be named) a lot of my reading, even most of my reading, comes from this school. And that, dear children, is okay. But it is American, and more the power to them for adding something to the language.

But if it is all you read then you become dependent on it and incapable of making it through even a moderately challenging read (like Tolkien's Silmarillion, which is indeed only moderate.) That closes the door to too much good reading, so one ought to broaden one's horizons. That would go for any reader in the English language: Don't ignore the hard stuff!

Specific to Canadians I would go the step further. We began as an offshoot of Britain, first colonial, later a Dominion, and even now we're still a part of the Commonwealth. That's part of our shared heritage even if we aren't all from British stock. And with that should come some kind of cultural awareness. Again, I'm a big lover of American history and culture. I don't have much patience for some of the smugness that Canadians have towards our southern cousins because it's uncharitable and unjustified. But we're not Americans. We're Canadians and a shared literature is part of that. So for us, reading things like Jane Austen or the others I listed the first time (and countless more, Lord: Dickens, Conrad (though English was his second langauge,) Melville, Wilde, etc) is part of getting back in touch with something older. Try Robertson Davies, a Canadian writing in the British idiom, yet still fresh (and sometimes scandalous.)

My advice? Grab your Pride and Prejudice, or a copy of Bleak House, and hoist a cup of tea for what was. There's no reason to turn your back on the past just because you've forgotten it. After all, that's what reminders are for.

Utilitarianism and the Christian ethos

More words.

We've talked a little about Utilitarianism and some of the problems that go with it. It's a subject that makes me want to rant a little, foam at the mouth and all that. After all, it's so fuzzy! But then, maybe that's why some people slip into it. Add a dash of relativism and the "good" you're seeking can be anything, especially in a Western mindset that has twisted freedom and personal autonomy into licence and narcissism.

Take the Wiccan commandment, for example: "An (if) it harm none, do as thou wilt." Now, I like commandments (especially commandments written in Elizabethan English!) but "harm" is a very fuzzy concept, and solidly consequentialist in its basis (another sign, by the way, of Wicca's newness on the world stage, all those carefully placed "thous" and "wilts" notwithstanding.) All of this leads to a case by case approach to morality that applies extremely vague ideas like Good and Harm, with a measuring stick of Consequence that we can never fully measure. You would need to be omniscient to fully know the consequences of any act.

Then there is the opposite of the Consequentialist approach, which is really just the principled approach. You begin with a set of principles like "All life is sacred" or "All men are created equal" and then simply apply them (okay, the application can be complicated and demanding.) People dislike doing this because it requires too much thinking, or maybe because operating from principles invites dangerous conversation, like where those principles comes from. Much easier to go with the fuzzy "do less harm than good" even if you can't properly define harm or good, much less quantify them.

Some people asked, after the post on Aristotle, how that really disproved or countered Utilitarianism. The answer is also a Christian answer, that good or ill lies in the nature of the thing itself and not merely in thinking it (though Catholic thought has room for the intent as well, as in accidentally killing for example.) The Christian thic comes from the Christian Faith, namely that there is a God who created the world out of love. He came down among us and died for our sins (more on that later) and has commanded us to live in love for our good and happiness. That seems easy, but look how it plays out and see how you might just be a Utilitarianism: If I kill one to save many, I am still a murderer. Don't ask how many; there is no sudden tipping point where 9 isn't enough but 10 means I can shoot the guy. It's always wrong (unless it's defensive, but let's assume an innocent victim for this discussion.)

That's Catholic. The individual life is sacred. More than that, so is your soul. Last time I talked about the Aristotelian idea that our actions slowly change our essence. Imagine that the essence we're talking about is not simply your psychology but your soul. Imagine for a moment that you have one (hopefully no struggle.) The Christian ideal is focussed on both this world and the next, neither at the cost of the other. Hence the Scripture: "What does it profit a man to gain the world if he lose his soul?" Hence also the Jewish proverb: "He who saves a single life saves the world entire." The single soul, every single soul is as important as anything. Every one.

Now that's pretty radical, you say. And it is. Christianity is only easy and self-satisfied if it isn't attempted but only glossed over. It was Chesterton who said that "the Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried."

The Christian philosophy rejects measuring consequences as a means of founding morality for so many reasons. Consequences can't be measured. Humanity cannot invent any "Good" on its own and agree on it. Consequences, when they can be measured, allow the few to suffer so the many can be happy: that's tyranny. The Christian response to this is revolutionary, counter-cultural, exactly the sort of rebellion that so many young people are looking for. It is only a matter of stepping into it, adopting a different worldview, and exercising your human will. Hopefully some of you do.

Requests!

No surprise, I have tons (tonnes I say) of things I'd like to blog about. No lack of opinions here. But please email or post if there are things you'd like to read about.

Team Hoyt: Father and Son

I think of this when I think of what real manhood means, and fatherhood. This is what you do when your son can't walk...

The Problem With Jane Austen

(for Canadian readers only)

I'll start by saying that Jane Austen is one of the best writers in the English language. But a lot of people find her difficult (and by this I mean that a lot of students don't seem to enjoy her, especially males. But more on them, later.) There are a few reasons for all of that, but I don't accept them. Surprise, surpise.

So, here it is. My essay on how reading Jane Austen is patriotic. (Again, Canadian readers are the least likely to be offended by this post. I say least.)

British English started forming long ago, hundreds of years before even Shakespeare. In the 1200s to 1300s French was the language of the aristocracy, thanks to the vigour and success of William of Normandy and the happy aristocrats that followed him in 1066. But in over those centuries there was also a growing resentment of the supremacy of a foreign language, as well as the awareness that French was more civilized. So, English writers (like Chaucer in the Canterbury Tales) were revolutionary in pursuing English as a proper language for literature: until then it was only a language for peasants.

But as they wrote these writers were also finessing English, adding words (Latin and French) and altering its style to suit a more civilized mode. (The peasants still spoke - peasant. Don't worry.) As an example, it was considered a virtue in Latin to be able to express a complex and elegant thought with a similarly elegant and complex sentence. Cicero was a master of this; some of his sentences are a paragraph long. But they were beautiful and they made sense. Latin writers also enjoyed using ironic understatement and double-negatives (sometimes at the same time) and the British eventually took on a surprisingly similar tone in their language. Hence the wordy, ironic, dry British prose that we so often can spot but not understand.

Now, fast forward to the mid-twentieth century. An American group of writers, including such greats (ahem) as Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein, broke from this old mode in favour of shorter, more direct language. Hemingway in particular, who was a fan of boxing and bullfighting (not to mention drinking and getting married) felt that writing should be like wrestling: strong, visceral work with no room for elegant rejoinder. Almost all our literature today is a child of the American system of Hemingway et al. And admittedly, the style is easy to read and powerful in its own way. But it has two problems. Three. (Three, milord.) Right.

First, it makes it hard to approach British literature. When you're used to short, pre-chewed senetences expressing short, pre-chewed thought, Victorian sentences are hard.

Second, and more specifically: it makes Jane Austen seem like a burden rather than a blessing for young Canadian students. So they often avoid it.

Third, and for Canadian students only: An addiction to American style prose makes your mind a small colony to the United States; your thoughts become their thoughts. Our history as a country, whatever your ethnicity (and I'm a Francophone for the love of all that's holy, and I'm writing this) is decidedly British. So, at least we have an excuse to follow one mode rather than the other, since we have yet (I say yet) to be American. Reading something like Jane Austen is more than a wonderful literary experience: for the Canadian it can be a step towards reclaiming a lost heritage and exercising some real independence from the Yanks (God Bless 'Em.) Seriously.

So, an unlikely entreaty: Free yourselves! Free your minds from the oppressive burdens of lazy prose! Revitalize a past that is British in focus rather than American! Read Austen! Read Robertson Davies! Read Shakespeare, Chaucer, O'Brian, Milton! And maybe, just maybe, your mind will slowly awaken to subtlety and the joy of an English language that was, once upon a time, dry, clever, and mischievous. I dare you.

Weird Mix: Beatles, Juggling, Interpretive Dance

I have to admit that I was impressed. But watching the expression on the guy's face was its own reward. And it's a good song. Strangely hypnotic.

Word of the Day: Aristotelianism!

Well, not all of it. The whole of the man's philosophy is huge. The only part of Aristotle's philosophy I'll talk about here is whatever seems to knock Utilitarianism on the head. This is the second part of a post dealing with the shortcomings of Utilitarianism. There will be at least a third, probably after I blog on something a bit different.

Aristotle said - well lots of things. But I'll start with this one: Things have natures. Now that seems straightforward, but it means that things are the way they are because that is their nature. They need to be that way or they become - something else. And yes, so far I hear people nodding and saying "Seems obvious." But the danger of most common sense is that it has logical consequences (like the fact that men don't have ovaries... but - ahem - that's a post for later.)

But Aristotle would have meant more than the natures of birds and trees. He would have meant everything, including the nature of humanity at its core, beyond the physical. Now, John Stuart Mill called Aristotle an early Utilitarian because the Greek philosopher claimed that happiness resulted from the actions a man took in his life. But that seems a stretch. And here's why:

Mill would say that the happiness is a consequence of those actions if they make the man happy (or the group) - which is close enough to being circular that we'll ignore it. But Aristotle wasn't concerned with external consequences (though he was concerned with how the community fared.) He was concerned with how a man's actions change his essence.

And there's the main insight for this post: Aristotle and essence. Aristotle felt that a man could change his essence by immersing himself in another essence. Do a good thing, then another until it becomes habit, and keep the habit until it is so firmly ingrained in your person that you are permanently altered. "Moral excellence comes about as a result of habit. We become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts." he says. (Hamlet mentions it to his mother by the way: Assume a virtue if you have it not... For use almost can change the stamp of nature") That isn't to say this sort of change is easy: ask anyone trying to break a habit. But it's possible, and not just for the better.

The point here? Things are too hard for a Utilitarian to measure. For if you torture to defend freedom, you change yourself slowly into an enemy of freedom. You make yourself darker everytime you commit evil in for some mythical "greater good." And in the end, you risk becoming an enemy of the very things you are defending. How can you defend liberty by destroying it, truth by betraying it? Those bent on "results" by doing wrong for the sake of good can't understand the nature of goodness, nor the nature of their selves.

And that's a point the Utilitarians never touch, because their philosophy is too fuzzy, too simplistic to stand up to that kind of scrutiny. They only look at the greater good of the group and aren't concerned with the inner life of the individual. And that is a lovely segue into a philosophy that is immensely interested in the internal state of the person. But more on that later...

Utilitarianism: The Economy of Deeds

Utilitarianism seems easy to define. At its basis it's simply a matter of trying to achieve the greatest possible happiness for the greatest possible number. And who can argue with that? It seems like arguing about the merits of motherhood (though today that happens) or apple pie (which in my mind is unassailable.)

But like most things, you just have to dig below the surface a bit. What, after all, is happiness? Can we agree on a definition? And is happiness the highest good? What do we mean by "the highest good" anyway? As you'll see, the way in which utilitarians answer these questions and how they seek happiness for the "greatest number" can pose a problem.

The generally ackowledged fathers of utilitarianism are Mill and Bentham (though Sidgwick and others have had their influence.) They suggested a system of morality that is based on consequence rather than focusing on the nature of the act or the intent of the person. They seek the greatest possible happiness (or the greatest possible fulfillment of people's desires, Sidgwick's refinement of the system.) For that reason they are often called consequentialists.

There are a couple of problems with that consequentialism that I'd like to address here. I won't suggest an alternate system (that comes later); I'll just throw a few rocks at this one.

One problem with consequentialism as a moral system is its lack of morality. By that I mean that it boils too much down to numbers. Consequentialists (those happy utilitarian bean-counters) go through a lot of effort to quantify the greater good and how much bad you can inflict before it becomes - well- bad. It's like using a slide-rule to figure out whether something is good or bad: I've inflicted 15 units of suffering and gained 100 units of happiness. A net gain! But if the right thing is based entirely on some numerical quantity then the individual is lost. For example:

Groups often identitify themselves along cultural or ethnic lines. And who's to judge that this is wrong, so long as they're happy? But what if you have a small minority within a community. Should they suffer if the larger group wills it? What if the larger group is afraid or suffering and don't know where to turn. What if seeing a common enemy unites them and gives them a sense of comfort, a greater sense of solidarity that allows them to pull through difficult times? The modern utilitarian will balk at that, worried that you're about to invoke Nazis and Jews. But he can only resist by appealing to the relative intensity of the Jewish suffering and the mildness (and questionable veractiy) of the comfort or economic gain of those people forcing them to work slave-labour in the ghettoes. His complaint is still quantifiable and not moral. At some point, in the Utilitarian mind, few enough people are suffering that the scale tips and atrocity becomes allowable.

The classic objection to Utilitarianism is the reference to a group of people who are all going to die if they don't get their own unique organ transplants. With the utilitarian slide rule it becomes allowable to kill the one healthy man outright in order tosave the many, whether he volunteers or not. The greater happiness of the greater number rules. Numbers rule. The good of the many, yada yada... But wait - if the good of the many outweigh the good of the few, the many rule the few.

So, utilitarianism is simply rule by numbers, a moral twist on the old "might is right." (Admittedly, Democracy itself is a twist of "might is right" by weight of numbers. That's why democracy is a politcal system and not a moral one.)

The second objection is simply this: Utilitarianism destroys any sane philosophy the West has presented. More on that in another post.

And what the heck: a third objection. One reason that utilitarianism isn't sane is that anything goes. If the harm isn't there, or if it's outweighed by the benefit, anything goes. But while the "anything goes" part is straightforward the rest of it is all so impractical. How do you measure happiness anyway? How do you compare the intensity of suffering in one person and the level of happiness in another? What IS happiness? Is it simply a bio-chemical state of the person, or something else? Utilitarianism doesn't even try to answer these things.

All in all the system is a mess. It assumes a lot about certain questions, primarily the spiritual ones. And if I were to throw two systems at Utilitarianism they would be Aristotelianism and the entire Judeo-Christian ethic. (to be continued...)

First Things (not really)

I've been thinking about making a blog for a while now. Whether it's as a touchpoint for old friends and students, a way to explore ideas, or a vessel for continuing conversations both manifold and fascinating, this is the place. Facebook doesn't allow for real communication (cute as it was.) So I'll try this: