Most ethical theories stop at one
or other of the restricted dimensions that make up the whole context of human
life. They stop at the individual, as in egoism, or at the societal, as in
Utilitarianism or they restrict themselves to the cosmic as in religious or
divine command ethics. Why thinkers on matters ethical feel obliged to choose
one of these or why all of them should not be taken into consideration at once
is something of a conundrum. But then, perhaps it’s not as surprising as all
that, since humans have consistently shown themselves prone to take a
restricted view of themselves and of their world. But our imagination will not
allow us to stop short and be satisfied with some restricted view. The basic
issue is that of doing the best with the mind: this ultimately involves
establishing a creative tension between the three principal dimensions of human
consciousness, the individual, the societal and the cosmic. It is impossible to draw boundaries between these three, but increasingly one or other of them is neglected, as is the manner in which
they interact. It is clear that the question ‘what
is good for humans?’ can not be answered by any individual or societal recipe
for happiness alone, though in contemporary society that is in effect what is happening. The cosmic dimension is more and more regarded as irrelevant. But we neglect it at our peril. We locate ourselves in the cosmos and our happiness is
bound up with what we take to be its character. Locate us in a cosmos that intelligently brought us forth and that has a place for us and we are at ease. Locate us in a
cosmos in which we are anomalous and alienated beings for whom there is no place apart from
that which we carve out for ourselves and we become brutalised and brutal.
It is notoriously difficult to
state what is the good for human beings. It is difficult to define this good.
The problem here lies with our desire for definitions or rather with the kinds
of ‘thing-like’ definitions we desire. This being the case, it is probably
easier to say first what is bad for humans. We won’t bother with metaphysical
notions such as ‘evil’, for there is little need for these outside of a
religious context. It is much more convincing to point out in what way the
thing-ideology imposes certain defective beliefs that are bad for us; for make
no mistake about it: the thing ideology is bad for us. Once we have done that,
we can show why we no longer need to put up with these defective beliefs. If
what is bad for us is the consequence of a defective set of beliefs and a
defective set of assumptions, then arguing or imagining ourselves out of those
assumptions may well open the way for counteracting their effects upon our
minds. Once we have outlined what is bad for us, logically the absence or maybe
the opposite of these things could be good for us.
So what are the bad effects of
the thing-dogma?
One of the chief sources of
damaging disruption to natural systems is the injection into the system of
defective, inappropriate or irrelevant information. For example, viruses
constitute defective information as far as our bodies are concerned and their
disruption of the body is obvious to all. Cancers arise from a kind of
defective information. Similarly, many of the problems and discontents of
western culture arise from defective information, defective beliefs. Richard
Dawkins was right in this to the extent that his ‘memes’ can be extremely
resilient and extremely deleterious. He was wrong in thinking that he could
isolate a certain category of memes – the religious ones – and show that these
are uniquely damaging. It is not the holding of this or that particular belief
in human culture, that makes it damaging, it is the use made of it. It is the case that the scientific dogma
according to which Dawkins operates is a damaging meme precisely because of its
monopolistic domination of areas of life over which it has no right to
pronounce. Thus the bad effects of the dogma are those that suggest that human
life is meaningless and worthless, that despite the deepest convictions of the
human race, its most universal conceptions of the value and purpose of human
life are utterly misguided and untrue.
Of course it is bad for humans to
suffer poverty, disease, oppression and so on; and there are enough people
around the world suffering from these. But to a great extent, these problems
are exacerbated by the moral bankruptcy of the developed west. The concern here
is with this latter and not necessarily with societies at other stages of
development. A basic assumption is that getting the self right in the west will
do much to produce improvements to the global situation. So the goal here is to
address the spiritual and moral malaise of the west and not so much the
consequences of this malaise in the rest of the world. It is to attempt to change
the view that human beings have of themselves as things. To see a human being
as a thing is to deprive him or her of all value and meaning; and it is
precisely these two features of human life that we wish to bring back into the
foreground of discourse. In the west a set of damaging assumptions concerning
human life that grow directly out of the thing-ideology impacts directly on our
psychological health. These assumptions and the beliefs constructed on them
have inflicted on us the intellectual and moral malaise from which we suffer.
This has in turn afflicted us with a whole range of disorders that are the
direct result of what are not only defective and oppressive beliefs, but also
now redundant beliefs.
Some of the assumptions and
beliefs that are bad for us are listed here. The list is not exhaustive.
It is bad for humans:
- to be told that whatever they
may think they are merely things;
- to be told that however they
may feel they have no freedom;
- to be bossed around by dogmatists
or subjected to this sort of totalitarianism;
- to be made to believe that they
are machines and as such, robotically determined;
- to be told that their mind is
an illusion or a delusion;
- to believe that any notion of a
soul or spirit is even more of an illusion;
- to believe that only external
relations are possible with others or with the world;
- to believe that they have only
physical, external ‘material’ relations with any reality;
- to be told that as isolated
objects they are fundamentally alone and cut-off;
- to be made to believe that
their lives have no intrinsic structure or value;
- to be told that only things
have value for them;
- to be made to believe that
their lives have no purpose;
- to believe that the universe around
them is a senseless machine;
- to believe that the universe is
an uncoordinated jumble of things;
- to believe that nature is
governed only by chance or necessity;
- to believe that human
intelligence is a freak of nature and without context;
- to believe that they have no
stake in the order of nature;
- to be hectored into believing
that their intelligence excludes them from nature;
- to be alienated and terrorised
by any or all of the above.
It requires no great insight or subtlety to see that
morality in modern western societies is deeply problematic. Philosophy,
particularly of the Anglo-Saxon variety has pronounced ethics impossible
because values are not things and moral ‘oughts’ cannot be found in nature as
one finds rocks, trees, clouds, turtles, galaxies, viruses and other things. Since
in our culture the only authoritative sorts of sentences are those that
describe things and since in the examination of things, nothing like a value
can be detected, sentences that describe the way things ‘should’ be are
pronounced to be meaningless expressions of knee-jerk likes or dislikes, mere
noises like ‘yuk’ or ‘yum yum’. It has never occurred to the luminaries who
thought up this piece of philosophical nonsense that the problem lies with
matters of methodology, with midworld, that is to say with a particular use of language and not with the absence of value from the world as such. The
empiricist dogma pontificates grandly that only sentences describing things are
meaningful and therefore talk of values is gibberish. But value is intrinsic to
the world and to all its systems. It’s just that the concepts that designate
such value have to be holistic concepts and not reductive ones. Language is
particularly well adapted to talking about objects; but this is the weakness of
language and it should not blind us to the primacy of values.
Pronouncing ethical statements to be meaningless because
they are not reducible to properties of things is about as intelligent as
someone’s pronouncing a move in chess illegitimate because, firstly he doesn’t
admit to the existence of chess, but only to that of tiddly-winks, and, secondly
because the move does not conform to the rules of tiddly-winks. There is a
gaping hole in the intellectual fabric of the west and that is its inability to
talk the language of wholes. The question, ‘what is the good for humans?’ is
therefore a very western question, because it implies some identifiable thing
called ‘good’ that can be isolated, as an electric charge or a pungent odour
can be isolated along with all other partial things and defined. Thus the good
for humans has variously been called ‘happiness’, ‘pleasure’, ‘power’, ‘wealth’
or some such ultimate irreducible thing that can be obtained, like any other
commodity, by some mechanical procedure or other. According then to the logic
of the thing-ideology, this ‘good’ is deemed to be obtainable for all humans by
the application of a set of rules, just as a chair can be obtained from a tree
by following a distinct procedure or set of prescriptions.
True to the reductionist methods that dominate intellectual
life in the west, we can conceive of the good only in terms of identifiable
goods, even to the point of taking that word quite literally: the good is goods.
We should have the courage to turn this cast of mind around and invert the
reductive spirit in ethics. We only pursue our manic focus on parts because of
our prior understanding of wholes. Indeed, the concentration on parts is
actually in the service of the understanding of wholes, though we tend to
forget this. We understand instinctively that health and happiness are good for
man, but we mislead ourselves in identifying those states altogether with what
we imagine are particular attainable examples of them. Just as health is not
the optimum condition of any one organ, but the complete and harmonious
functioning of the entire body and mind, so happiness is not the acquisition of
any one aspect of the whole range of potentially agreeable things. We want to
know when we ask what is good for man, not what might give him pleasure or
satisfaction, what might gratify or entertain him, what might enhance his
self-love or increase his feelings of self-worth. We want to know what
happiness as a whole, on the analogy with physical health, may entail for the
human being as such. We shall therefore ignore the individual goods and try to
understand the holistic conception in virtue of which every individual good,
from the acquisition of an object to the experience of oceanic ecstasy is
understood to be of value.
Western ethics, apart from suffering from the handicap of
having been pronounced ‘nonsensical’ by western philosophy, suffers also from
the Greek and Judaeo-Christian input that the Middle Ages bequeathed to us. In
Ancient Greece, the fundamental ethical question was thought to be ‘what is the
best kind of life for a human?’ or ‘how does the individual human flourish?’
The answer to this question was thought to be found in the acquisition of a
particular kind of technical know-how; for Plato it was knowledge of the Forms, for Aristotle it was the development of adaptive patterns of behaviour called
‘virtues’ or ‘excellences’. For the Jew and the Christian, however, the
fundamental ethical question was rather ‘what does God command me to do?’ And
these ‘commands’ were understood to be codifiable rules laying down the best
kind of life. These two conceptions of the good life are vastly different, but
they had one thing in common: both the Greeks and the Judeao-Christians busily
went about trying to establish a method for obtaining the right kind of
knowledge in question. As always when humans apply their reason to such
matters, however, this led to reductive definitions and punitive prescriptions.
So while the Greeks taught that a certain kind of learning
resulted necessarily in the individuals' becoming ‘good’ in the sense of
‘successful’, or ‘well turned-out’, and in their ‘living and faring well’, the
Jews and then the Christians, following the monotheistic notion of a divine set
of rules for everything in the universe, set themselves the task of clarifying
these rules, imposing them on everyone and enforcing them. (And Islam, as a latecomer, is still trying to do this.) Now while the
Christians retained the Greek conception of the good life for human beings,
considering it simply as complete conformity to the will of God as interpreted
by the authority of the Church, in post-Enlightenment Europe God dropped out
of the picture and the ego took his place. The good life for a human being became a life of
desire-satisfaction and the rules turned into a procedure for ensuring that the
desire-satisfaction of every individual member of a given group did not damage
the mode of desire-satisfaction of the majority.
This grotesquely impoverished notion of ethics combined
the worst of both the Greek and the Christian views on matters ethical. It
designated the individual as a unit of pleasure-seeking and announced that,
since no one unit has a greater right to pleasure than any other unit, the
pleasure-seeking of each unit had to be controlled in such a fashion as to
ensure that the greatest amount of pleasure was obtainable by the greatest
number. There was of course no compellingly authoritative reason for this at
all. It was simply a hang-over from the old Greek and Christian ideas that the
good was to be obtained by some sort of procedure and constituted some sort of
knowledge; and this knowledge was assumed, particularly by Bentham and his
Utilitarians, to be available by scientific means. It was to be acquired by
means of the so-called ‘felicific calculus’. Since the search for factual
knowledge was deemed to be the amassing of the finest-grain unit facts and
combining these facts according to some rules, the same was thought to go for
ethics. The ‘facts’ were those that the ego deemed to be the facts of human nature,
namely that each human being, as a kind of atomic unit of humanity, was
motivated by an entirely selfish desires for kinds of pleasure. Bentham
believed that all the individual satisfactions could each be given a score and that
on the basis of some ill-defined arithmetic these scores could reveal some
optimum state of society, just as the properties of atoms combined them
together to form a world. This caricatural conception of human life remains the
dominant ethical theory in the west today – albeit without the wacky
mathematics – and is an indication of the extent to which, in desperation,
westerners are liable to believe the veriest nonsense merely because they have
no other means of intellectual control of reality than the thing-ideology.
What, then could the alternative be? What alternative view
could we develop of the good for human beings if we ditch the thing-ideology
and learn to speak the language of wholes?
The reductive language of fragments that is imposed upon human beings by
the thing-ideology suggests to each individual that he or she is completely
cut-off and alone as an object among objects and has only external relations
with other individuals or atomic units and all the other ‘ills’ resulting from
the thing-ideology listed above. The result of belief in this fragmentary view
of life is that each individual feels obliged to exploit every situation as an
opportunity for personal gratification, since there is no other value. This
personal gratification has no other substance than the obtaining of certain
types of commodities. The ethical ideal of the average western individual is
thus officially viewed as the acquisition and consumption of a certain sum of
these commodities. Of course, an extra ethical dimension is bolted on to this
in a completely irrational manner, which states quite flatly that one person’s
acquisition and consumption of commodities must not damage another person’s
chances of obtaining and consuming commodities. There is no particularly moral
justification for this from the basic ideology, which is purely egoistic, but
it is bolted on nevertheless, because even the thing-ideology has to recognise
that ethics has a group dimension that it would be absurdly inefficient to
ignore.
One other reason for the utilitarian inhibition of egoism
is also, of course, the mechanistic need for predictable organisations: society
in utilitarian ethics is viewed as a well-oiled machine – since everything else
in nature is an efficient machine – and it would seem that pure egoism as a
social principle could not work very well. It becomes evident from an
understanding of this fragmentary approach to reality, that not only can it not
really deal intelligently with the dynamics involved in the relation of
individual to group, it cannot understand human life in any way at all, because
human life is only comprehensible as a series of integrated systems that go
from particles to cells, from cells to organs, from organs to the body, from
the body to social groups, from social groups to cultural groups, from social
and cultural groups to the world, from the world to the totality of nature and
the cosmos; and without some way of integrating all of these systems, it is
impossible to grasp what is good for the individual human being and for the
human group. It is as arbitrary to cut off the ethical questioning at the
societal or cultural level of systems as it is to declare that it belongs to
the individual alone. Every human being is aware that questions concerning the
good for humans go from the individual through the societal to the cosmic
without any obvious boundaries and they do so because it is in the nature of
human self-consciousness to situate itself in these contexts and to understand
them holistically.
Some sort of realisation is dawning that a holistic
language and a conception of complex feedback loops is needed with respect to
recommendations concerning human behaviour, for example in the ecological
movement, but it needs to be much more consciously and much more systematically
developed in conscious opposition to the fragmenting effects of the
thing-ideology. The ethical phenomenology of the human race has to be
considered as an emergent property of the most complex thing in the whole known
universe, namely the human being, not just singly, but as a whole species. And
let us remember here that these properties are called ‘emergent’ by us only
because our habit of looking at every whole in terms of what we identify as its
simplest parts makes wholes challengingly mysterious. Each sub whole of
relevance to the human being, from sub-atomic particle to planet, has to be
regarded as essentially and fundamentally connected both to the immediate
subordinate whole and to the immediate superordinate whole and, thereby, to the
totality both at the micro and at the macro scale. There is a flow of
information from all levels of the system to all other levels. The flow of
information is from what we call ‘the simple’ to what we call ‘the complex’ and
from the complex to the simple. In reality, there is no such thing as the clear
distinction between ‘the simple’ and ‘the complex’, for the simple can behave
in complex ways and the complex in simple ways. There are no ‘fundamental
building blocks’ to nature, no ultimately ‘simple’ bits, the properties of
which, along with the rules of their combination, govern all phenomena. Wholes
at all levels have irreducible emergent properties that cannot be understood
reductively. Parts are only apparently parts; they are in fact either sub-wholes
or superordinate wholes depending on the
point from which one views them; and this relation of parts to whole is an
essential property of the entirety of the biosphere, and, we must assume, of
the universe as a whole.
The life of the individual human being is set in a nested
series of systems, each of which has to be considered as a whole that is not reducible
to its parts. Moreover, each whole has either to be viewed as a sub-whole within a superordinate whole, rather than merely as a part of that whole, or else as a superordinate whole the parts of which are its sub-wholes. As for the wholes relevant to ethics, there is the
body, to begin with, then the family, then the various larger social groupings,
after which comes the ecosystem of the planet and thereafter the universe as a
totality. The idea that the individual human could somehow seek integration
into the universe as a whole is not as barmy as it sounds when one realises
that according to the de Broglie interpretation of the individual particle,
each particle reflects the whole universe in the information encoded in the
wave-potential that accompanies it. Imagine, in order to put a bit of reality
on this abstract notion, what is indeed the case: the light from every visible
source in the universe, the light that encodes the information concerning every
object in the visible universe, is present at every point within the universe,
for every part of the visible universe can be observed from every other part. Thus
every ‘part’ of the universe that we experience is present in every other ‘part’. The information
governing the entire universe is present everywhere in the universe,
holographically present, if you like. A human being can not be fully human
without feeling ‘at one’ with each of the systems of which it is a sub-whole.
The good for a human being is therefore a living sense of belonging to each of
the systems in turn in which its life is set, from body to universe. The link
between each of these systems is information-processing or intelligence, the
intelligence specific to the level in question. The old notion of man as the microcosm
mirroring the macrocosm returns in new guise if one considers the notion of ‘self-similarity’
in chaos-theory. It is one of our deepest instinctive conceptions of ourselves
that suggests to us that the relation between our creative minds and our earth-bound
bodies might be a dim reflection of the relation between the physical cosmos
and the universal intelligence that animates it.
The intelligence of the individual is not just
brain-function, it is rather an aggregate function of the indeterminate
information that accompanies every particle of the individual’s body, a
function of the complex information-bearing field that fundamentally is
each apparent part and that is connected to the indeterminate intelligence of
each superordinate system above it. The information-bearing field that is each
apparent part unfolds itself to us in ways that are peculiar to our particular
ability to experience. We experience a world of separate things – that is our brain-imposed
handicap. But our experience can be trained to broaden itself and become an
experience that the self has of fields, of the universal field. We can
experience the universe as universal light, universal energy, universal
intelligence, and its various phenomena, ourselves included, as bound forms of
these. This is a kind of myth, and will be rejected with cries of “juvenile
idealism” or something similar. But the mechanistic dogma is a myth, too, and a
destructive one. The holistic myth proposed here is the sort of myth that is needed
to counteract the corrosive and fatal effects of the mechanistic-deterministic
thing-ideology.
It is a consciousness of the integrated totality of the
universe, in which the individual has a stake and a role, that has the
potentiality to combine all the disparate elements in ethical theories as diverse
as Utilitarianism, Natural Law ethics, Kantianism, Virtue-Ethics, Divine
Command Ethics, Situation Ethics, Egoism, Prescriptivism, Anarchism and so on.
It can combine deontological and consequentialist notions. It can combine
prescriptive and descriptive ethics and abolish the spurious distinction
between cognitivism and non-cognitivism. It can do these things by the simple
expedient of not restricting knowledge to knowledge of parts. The forces that
forge the many moral codes that exist and that have existed in human groups
have the purpose not only of connecting the individual to a system, but also of
revealing and imparting to individual life a structure, a purpose, a sense, a 'meaning' if you like, that is inherent to it and not simply imposed for the convenience of this or that
power-hungry authority. Whatever the Existentialists may have said about the
lack of a human essence, there has to be an essence of the human in order for
life to function, though this essence clearly is not identifiable with any one
aspect of human existence. It is precisely the doctrine of meaningless that has
given rise to the existential notion of absurdity and to the view that
fundamentally ‘anything goes’ except where the majority has decided – on the
basis of its superior power – that in the interests of its comfort, certain
things will be forbidden. The good for humans is therefore substantially the
opposite of everything proposed by the thing-ideology and is found in a
rediscovery of the ancient values of spiritual connection with universal
meaning. That it is physics that can begin to make these things comprehensible
demonstrates that we are not dealing here with mere mystification, but rather
with intellectually serious matters of vital importance that we have no reason
any more to obfuscate with any half-baked ‘scientific’ dogma.
When one has got rid of the pusillanimous notion that the
only good for humans is vegetable health it is fairly easy to see that what is
good for humans is the same as what makes their existence meaningful: it is being
dynamically and permanently aware that the self-conscious mind is integrated into
the cosmos and thus actively involved in its ceaseless creativity. There
is no more consummately meaningful, no better life than to be in creative
partnership with the creativity of the cosmos. To create, to be creative, for
us humans is to be created, even if we know it or not. The cosmos is infinitely
varied and infinitely complex because it is a process of constant creation. We have a stake in this perpetual creativity
whether we understand this or not. Clearly, it is better to understand our
status as created creators than not.
No comments:
Post a Comment