Analytic Philosophy (and Other Stuff) in the Anal-Retentive Tradition. Since 5 November 2003. By Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D., Associate Professor of Philosophy, Department of Philosophy and Humanities, The University of Texas at Arlington. The views expressed on this page are not necessarily shared by others at my university, including my departmental colleagues. Hell, they're not even necessarily shared by me, their author. All material copyrighted.
Calamity,n. A more than commonly plain and unmistakable reminder that the affairs of this life are not of our own ordering. Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others.
At 10 a.m. last Sunday morning I stopped in at Whole Foods Preston-Forest to buy a few fresh breads for breakfast. She stood behind me in the "express" checkout lane. Her cart overflowed with a lot more than "10 items or less."
I mentioned to her that there was a customer with just one item behind her, and maybe she could let him check out ahead of her. She frowned, "I'm in a really big hurry," was her reply.
I said "Gee, that's a shame since he has just one item and he's holding his money in his hand." She pushed the cart forward toward me and, as it clanged into my basket, she stormed out of the store.
"I don't need to listen to this" were her angry words as she left her cart filled with milk cartons, packages of meats, produce, breads and other groceries. She stormed out of the store.
Last week while coming home from work, in 5 o'clock traffic on a Wednesday, I was maneuvering toward the Dallas North Tollway entrance lane from I-35 northbound. Suddenly, I see an SUV moving over on me--driving my small Toyota Prius. My choice is either be run off into a retaining rail or honk to alert the driver of my plight. I honked at the driver who had to let me pass and who ended up right behind me.
For the next several minutes she punished me with honking, obscene gestures and road-raged tailgating my vehicle. She pulled ahead of me, with more gestures along the way, cut me out in traffic and repeatedly hit her brake just to let me know how displeased she was that I honked at her. Then off she sped, sure that she had taught me a lesson as to her superiority.
Sisters, what's up with you? Both of you were white, middle-aged women--just like me. I got a good look at you both. You were well dressed. You have good surroundings judging by where you were shopping and the vehicle you drive. So, what's up with the rage?
I usually think of road-ragers and angry checkout line incidents as a "male thing." If either of you is reading this--please let me know why.
A reader (Cynthia) asks why I don't have a comments section on this blog. She says it will save me from having to post comments "by hand."
Newspapers don't publish just any letters that come in. Only some letters (usually a small percentage) get published, and even these are edited (though usually not enough). Think of this blog as a newspaper and me as its editor. By the way, I believe that the main shortcoming of the Internet is that it's unedited. Editors are filters of quality. Without editors, there is chaos (anarchy). Come to think of it, the Internet is chaotic. In some ways this is good. In some ways it is bad.
There are many reasons why I don't want a comments section. First, it draws my attention to the blog when I should be doing other things. Who can resist seeing what readers are saying? I had a comments section on my Animal Ethics blog when it was communal, so I know whereof I speak. It was a relief to get rid of it. I also get comments on my Tech Central Station columns. I check the feedback section several times a day for three or four days, until the comments stop coming in.
Second, it will draw me into controversies, which I don't need. I can barely find the time to post entries each day. Having several running debates with readers would undermine my blogging. David Hume (1711-1776) resolved as a young man never to respond to his critics, and with one or two exceptions, he didn't. I admire that. I almost always regret engaging my critics, some of whom are nasty. It's a distraction from the work I'm doing. I'm trying to simplify my life, not complicate it.
Third, people grandstand. This used to happen with e-mail. I would send a missive to six or eight people, not all of whom knew the others. Someone would invariably respond to all instead of just to me. I never understood this. I sent the missive to all because I know all. But the one who responded to all didn't know all! It was grandstanding, plain and simple. In some cases the responder sought to embarrass me in front of the others. That's despicable. There's also a fair amount of grandstanding in the feedback section of Tech Central Station. People have axes to grind. They grind away, oblivious to what I said in the column. People who have axes to grind should take up blogging. People who enjoy watching axes ground should read these blogs.
Fourth, I read recently that spammers have learned how to post advertisements on comments sections. The very idea infuriates me. Spammers should be hung by the neck until dead.
All things considered, I neither need nor want a comments section. I love my blog as it is. This is not to discourage you from writing to me. Far from it. A link to my e-mail address is prominently displayed to the left. Feel free to write. If I like your letter, I may ask for permission to post it (after editing for grammar, punctuation, style, and clarity). I read all letters, so even if I don't ask to post yours, it wasn't a waste of your time to compose it. Nor should you be insulted if I post someone else's letter and not yours. I try to post one letter a day, in the "From the Mailbag" feature. Sometimes I post two.
As many of you know, Dr Leonard Carrier, a retired philosophy professor from The University of Miami, has been making a case against the war in Iraq. His missives have been criticized by various others. Let's step back for a moment and ask what's going on. In other words, let's think philosophically about what we're doing. (The unexamined life is not worth living.)
Dr Carrier believes that the war in Iraq was unjustified. I and many others believe that it was justified. It's tempting to think that only one of us can be right. Dr Carrier believes p; we believe non-p. But that's incorrect. Dr Carrier and I may have different standards (norms) of justification. The war may be unjustified by his standard but justified by mine. Suppose we shared a standard. Then we could simply apply it and reach a mutually acceptable conclusion. A given standard either is or is not complied with in a particular case. Whether it is complied with is a factual question. Factual questions, in principle, are the easiest to answer.
The differences expressed in this blog are of two sorts. Some are factual, such as what the war cost, whether Saddam Hussein was a threat to others, or what the war's long-term consequences will be. But I think the correspondents have different standards of justification. This is a whole other matter.
Suppose Dr Carrier and I have different standards of justification (as I believe we do). Can anything be done? Yes. I can try to get Dr Carrier to replace his standard with my standard. How do I do this? I have to show him that something else he accepts, such as a more fundamental standard, commits him to it. He will try to do the same with me. Persuasion, to be effective, must be ad hominem. It must begin with beliefs or values already subscribed to by one's interlocutor. If my interlocutor rejects one or more of my premises, I get no traction with him or her and have no chance of changing his or her view.
It may come as a surprise to hear me say this, but I have no interest in persuading Dr Carrier or anyone else to share my view of the war's justification. I'm convinced that it's justified--by my standard of justification. I have a coherent view of the war in Iraq. I'm sure Dr Carrier has a coherent view as well. If Dr Carrier wants to change my view, he must show that I have contradictory beliefs, not merely that my beliefs differ from his.
I read jan's 4/3 post with interest. I was disappointed, however, in its being rather long on rhetoric and short on facts. Give me an argument to confront and I'll gladly discuss it. Give me opinion and conjecture and I can only respond with the following story.
A young philosopher dreamt that he was arguing with all the great philosophers--Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Hume, Kant, and others. One by one they came before him, and he devastated them with a singular criticism of their arguments. Becoming half-awake, he realized that he had discovered a universal refutation. Fearing that he would forget it upon fully awakening, he stumbled to his nightstand and wrote down the words he had uttered in his dream; and then he fell back asleep. In the morning he looked at what he had written on his writing pad. It contained the words, "That's what you say!"
To the liberal mind, the end justifies the means. Think about what this signifies. The end is so important, so essential, that literally no means to achieving it are ruled out. Anything goes! This is as true in campaigning as it is in policymaking. If you doubt me, read this excerpt from an interview between a liberal Air America radio host and Ralph Nader, at Peg Kaplan's blog What If? As Peg says, scary.
Dr Bill Keezer over at Bill's Comments has posted a reply (see here) to Dr Leonard Carrier, whose carefully written missives in opposition to the war in Iraq have appeared on this blog. Bill just installed a visitor counter on his blog, which will allow us to watch his readership grow. Take a look. If you have a blog of your own, please give Bill a little publicity. New bloggers need the equivalent of a push to get started.
On the windy banks of the river Rhone I spent my boyhood, guided by my parents, and then, guided by my own fancies, the whole of my youth. Yet there were long intervals spent elsewhere, for I first passed four years at the little town of Carpentras, somewhat to the east of Avignon: in these two places I learned as much of grammar, logic, and rhetoric as my age permitted, or rather, as much as it is customary to teach in school: how little that is, dear reader, thou knowest. I then set out for Montpellier to study law, and spent four years there, then three at Bologna. I heard the whole body of the civil law, and would, as many thought, have distinguished myself later, had I but continued my studies. I gave up the subject altogether, however, so soon as it was no longer necessary to consult the wishes of my parents. My reason was that, although the dignity of the law, which is doubtless very great, and especially the numerous references it contains to Roman antiquity, did not fail to delight me, I felt it to be habitually degraded by those who practise it. It went against me painfully to acquire an art which I would not practise dishonestly, and could hardly hope to exercise otherwise. Had I made the latter attempt, my scrupulousness would doubtless have been ascribed to simplicity.
(Petrarch, "Letter to Posterity," in Selected Sonnets, Odes, and Letters, ed. Thomas Goddard Bergin, Crofts Classics, ed. Samuel H. Beer and O. B. Hardison Jr [Arlington Heights, IL: AHM Publishing Corporation, 1966], 1-17, at 4-5 [letter written about 1373])
Re "The Evolution of Women's Roles, Chronicled in the Life of a Doll," by Carol E. Lee (Editorial Observer, March 30):
Once demonized as a 12-inch bimbo, the newly liberated Barbie is now extolled as a role model for generation ABC. Lighten up already!
When my 31-year-old son was 3, I bought into the feminist manifesto by buying him a doll to help him get in touch with his feminine side. At the same time, a friend bought her daughter a truck. To our dismay, both objects were ignored unless we visited each other's homes.
My daughter grew up with two brothers, surrounded by He-Man toys that held little interest for her. But she opted instead for a menagerie of homely Cabbage Patch dolls, followed by a long line of theme Barbies with all the requisite accessories.
If the adults who consider doll a four-letter word would try to get in touch with their inner child, they might conclude that any toy, whether it's a Barbie or a Mack Truck, ultimately represents whatever the child needs it to be. And sometimes a doll is just a doll.
HELEN SCHWIMME Brooklyn, March 30, 2004
To the Editor:
It took a darling 2-year-old to get this radical feminist grandmother to extol the virtues of Barbie (Editorial Observer, March 30).
As a parent in the 1970's, I would have died before buying a Barbie for my little president in the making. Now I realize that all the to-do was just that, much ado about nothing.
I watch my granddaughter with this anatomically incorrect doll, and she has it talking, moving furniture, being a mother, singing songs, fixing a car and using its imagination.
Why is it that we don't get as upset about G.I. Joe, the doll that kills people and hardly nurtures, and is also anatomically incorrect?
And why is it that we don't get as upset when our daughters play with boys' toys as we do when our sons want girls' toys?
RENEE ROSENBLUM-LOWDEN Columbia, Md., April 1, 2004
Here's the Democrat strategy, reduced to its essentials:
1. Point out everything that's wrong with this country, from its laws to its customs to its history to its institutions to the attitudes, values, and beliefs of its inhabitants.
2. Blame everything that's bad, wrong, or unjust on President Bush.
3. Hope voters buy it.
Americans will tire of the first prong. They know that the United States is a good place in which to live. Many of us believe that it's the best place--ever. Is it perfect? No. No place is or ever will be perfect. Nothing humans make or do is perfect, with the possible exception of baseball.
By harping on the bad, Democrats will come to seem imbalanced, mean-spirited, and pessimistic, all of which go against the American grain. Americans are balanced, kind, and optimistic--and pride themselves on it. They know that every cloud has a silver lining. If you look hard enough, you'll find it. They believe that things are basically good and can be made only incrementally better--and that sometimes, trying to make things better ends up making them worse. (Americans do not like do-gooders.) When they hear Democrats say that America is rotten to the core, a place of injustice and indifference to misfortune, they will cast a wary eye. When is the last time we elected a pessimistic president? We threw one out on his ear in 1980.
The second prong violates American beliefs in honesty and fairness. President Bush, qua president, is a powerful man--more powerful than you or I--but he is not omnipotent. He is not responsible for everything bad, wrong, or unjust. He can't single-handedly create jobs. But if you listen to Democrats and read the screeds of, say, Paul Krugman, you can't but think that they believe President Bush both caused all the bad stuff to occur and stood in the way of all the good stuff. This is dishonest and unfair. Americans will see it and punish it.
The third prong is most insulting of all. Americans don't like being played for fools or taken for granted. They'll see that Democrats are playing fast and loose with the truth and hoping to dupe people into voting for them. They will take a hard look at John Kerry and see that he stands for appeasement of our enemies, higher taxes (punishment for success), less personal responsibility, and pandering to special interests. Are you a special interest? Neither am I. I'm just an ordinary, hard-working American, playing by the rules, taking responsibility for my actions, trying to be self-sufficient, and wishing that everyone else did the same.
Democrats care about welfare, not autonomy; liberty, not responsibility; equality, not desert. To a Democrat, you are an eater and a breeder, not a thinker or a doer. You are a patient, not an agent. You are assumed to be incapable, incompetent, and vulnerable without assistance from governmental do-gooders--who, of course, know what's best for you. You are defined by your needs, not by your interests, abilities, or values. If you're productive, you're ripe for the picking, however much your productivity rests on initiative, hard work, and discipline. This November's election will come down to two visions of what America is all about. Choose wisely.
One of my readers, Kelion, sent a link to this essay by John Kekes, who, as many of you know, is one of my philosophical heroes. (I have many.) Thanks, Kelion! I'm fairly sure I would not have discovered the essay on my own. By the way, in case you get a Kekes craving, here is another of his essays. I think you'll agree that the man is brilliant. Did I mention that he's a conservative?
I must say that Len Carrier [see here] still has not convinced me.
His alternative to sanctions or war, using other Arab states to apply diplomatic pressure, seems ungrounded in reality. The Arab states that weren't openly supporting Saddam, were tacitly supporting him, and rabidly anti-American in any case. Ditto much of Europe. France, Germany, and Russia at a minimum were on the take, and who knows how many other countries? Who could we have trusted to not stab us in the back, that Saddam would have listened to? Kuwait might have cooperated with us in good faith, but it's not likely that Saddam would have listened to them, since they called on us to kick him out in the first Gulf war. Turkey is both Muslim and democratic, but no Arab is going to listen to the Turks. Mr. Carrier also fails to understand that in order to negotiate with someone, you have to have something that they want. The only things that Saddam wanted were things we would never have ceded to him: elimination of Israel as a state, nuclear technology and long-range missiles, control of Kuwaiti and other Arab territories, elimination of the no-fly zones, etc. So what was there left to negotiate with? Nothing.
I don't understand his statement "Eventually, he would have fallen, perhaps earlier rather than later if tried and convicted in absentia by an international court." What international court? No court exists that has the jurisdiction to convict dictators of anything. And of course Saddam would have fallen eventually, he was mortal like the rest of us, so he would have died of old age if nothing else. Having a dictator fall, however, is only half of the equation, and not necessarily the important half. As important or more so, in my opinion, is who the dictator will be replaced with. Is Mr. Carrier seriously suggesting that the situation would have been better after Uday and Qusay took control? Or alternately, the corrupt bureaucracy of the U.N.?
The U.N. inspectors were well on their way to proving nothing, with Saddam in control of their every move. There is no proof that he destroyed any weapons at their behest either. We only discovered the real state of affairs after toppling Saddam, taking control of the whole country and having unlimited access. I'm not convinced that he was a "paper tiger" in any case. According to Douglas Hanson, Chief of Staff of the Ministry of Science and Technology (one of several ministries of the Coalition Provisional Authority in Baghdad), the Iraqi Survey Group headed by Dr. Kay was so underfunded, unfocused, uncoordinated, and lacking in security that stockpiles of weapons "may be literally right under the feet of coalition forces."
Mr. Carrier also sees "no causal connection between our invasion of Iraq and, e.g. the lack (to date) of attacks on U.S. targets." I would agree that our presence in Iraq has not been the main cause of this lack, though there is a great deal of circumstantial evidence of a connection between Saddam and Al Qaeda. Proof of anything in the shadowy world of terrorists is hard to come by. Of greater impact is our presence in Afghanistan, the toppling of the Taliban, the cutting off of their funding, the destruction of their training camps, and the capture or death of most of Al Qaeda's leadership. We've proven to them sufficiently that this administration, unlike the previous one, will fight back. They can't challenge us on a level playing field militarily and they know it. Therefore Al Qaeda has turned to softer targets, targets like Spain and Italy that will appease and submit, and not fight back.
Toppling Saddam however, is of great strategic value in many other ways. He openly supported Palestinian terrorists, sending large amounts of money for the families of suicide bombers. He sheltered and trained other known terrorists. He was an ongoing threat to Saudi Arabia, and like it or not, most of the world depends on Saudi oil. Neither we nor they could afford to let Saddam control those reserves, it would absolutely decimate the world's economy. There is also a large psychological component to be reckoned with. As the only Arab leader to openly defy the United States, however unsuccessfully, he was a hero and champion to many.
Mr. Carrier concludes with the question "Why did we not employ with Iraq the policies that we are now pursuing with North Korea, Syria, and Iran?" If I may say so, Mr. Carrier reminds me of the proverbial man whose only tool is a hammer, and therefore sees every problem as a nail. Every battle requires different tactics on different fronts, both military and diplomatic. In the case of Syria, because we toppled Saddam, they now recognize negotiation as being in their best interest. There was little realistic chance that they would have negotiated beforehand. Iran and North Korea both have very advanced nuclear programs and we cannot disregard the likelihood that they may already have usable weapons. Knowing how unreliable intelligence from those countries is, and how frequently we have (drastically) underestimated each country's nuclear progress, a military response is inappropriate. But to absolutely prevent Saddam from getting similar weapons? Certainly. That and what we have subsequently learned about nuclear proliferation are worth everything that this war has cost and more. Is Mr. Carrier honestly willing to trust his life and that of his family to the self-restraint and sanity of a Saddam Hussein?
jan
(Sorry this is so long, but as someone else once said, I didn't have time to make it shorter!)
Your story about your dog Ginger [see here] almost made me cry. I too had a Ginger. The sweetest, most beautiful Irish setter you'd ever want to meet. So gentle that even my grandmother would pet her. (My grandmother was attacked by a dog when she was 4 years old, and was so terrified of dogs and other animals that she had never once touched an animal of any description in the subsequent 70+ years. To this day even, my Ginger is the only animal she's ever touched.) Anyway, I noticed Ginger limping one day and took her to the vet. It was determined that she had a tumor in her abdomen that was pressing up on her spine at the base of her tail and cutting off the nerve connections to that leg. As the muscles atrophied they rotated her hip further up, lifting the foot. It didn't take long before they were pulling the joint further than it could go, causing her quite a bit of pain. She told me one morning that it was time for her to go, so I took her in and had her put to sleep. It was 11 days from when I noticed the limp, she was 9 years old. I'm so teared up right now that I can hardly see the screen. It was over a year before I could take a walk without feeling that she was missing, or come home from work and not listen for her tags as she ran to the door to greet me. Fourteen years later and I still miss that dog. The best of friends never leave our hearts.
I am fairly good at debating (not to toot my own horn) and I am a fairly strong advocate of laissez-faire capitalism, and as such I occasionally get called "dogmatic." I, in fact, try to avoid being dogmatic by explaining the logic behind my thinking, providing outside links, not using personal attacks, etc. It just so happens that I usually present a strong argument. I suspect that, even though dogma does exist, it's a charge often used as a discrediting tactic by those who disagree, but have no solid argument.
I saw on your blog that recently, someone had sent you a post from another blog that called you "dogmatic" and I was wondering, what are your thoughts on this? And how does one deal with these claims? (I usually try to turn the claims back on the person, while disassembling their claims of dogma.)
Thanks for writing, Dave. Here is the Oxford English Dictionary, 2d ed.:
dogma
1. That which is held as an opinion; a belief, principle, tenet; esp. a tenet or doctrine authoritatively laid down by a particular church, sect, or school of thought; sometimes, depreciatingly, an imperious or arrogant declaration of opinion.
2. The body of opinion formulated or authoritatively stated; systematized belief; tenets or principles collectively; doctrinal system.
Here is Simon Blackburn:
dogma In general, a belief held unquestioningly and with undefended certainty. In the Christian Church, a belief communicated by divine revelation, and defined by the Church. (Simon Blackburn, The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996], 109)
Here is Robert M. Martin:
dogma A particular belief or system of beliefs proclaimed by authority (especially religious authority) to be true. Thus, this word has also come to mean anything someone believes merely on authority, without reason, especially when stated arrogantly and intolerantly. (Robert M. Martin, The Philosopher's Dictionary, 3d ed. [Peterborough, Ontario: Broadview Press, 2002], 95)
There appear to be two meanings, the primary one having to do with the grounds of belief and the secondary or derivative one having to do with the attitude with which belief is expressed. A belief that is grounded only in authority (or that lacks grounds altogether) is said to be a dogma. In some contexts, such as religion, this is (or may be) acceptable. In other contexts, such as science and philosophy, authority is an unacceptable ground of belief. One is expected to (be able to) adduce other grounds besides authority for one's beliefs.
Let us call a person whose beliefs are dogmas in this primary sense a dogmatist, and his or her doctrine dogmatism. Dogmatists tend to express their beliefs dogmatically, i.e., with a certain arrogance and intolerance. The characteristic attitude of a dogmatist, in other words, is arrogant intolerance (or intolerant arrogance). But someone can express beliefs arrogantly and intolerantly without being a dogmatist. For example, suppose a scientist has--as scientists are supposed to have--revisable, tentative beliefs about some matter, but that he or she expresses these beliefs arrogantly and intolerantly, as by saying, "I've proved theory T." (Scientists don't prove anything. They formulate and test hypotheses. The most they should say, therefore, is that a given hypothesis [or theory] has not [yet] been refuted, or that hypothesis H1 is superior to its rivals, H2 and H3, by the prevailing criteria. The hallmark of science is revisability. Its characteristic attitude--and mode of expression--is modesty.) We should say that the beliefs of the hypothesized scientist are expressed dogmatically but not held dogmatically. The scientist should dial it down.
I think this is what gets me in trouble. I have reasons for all (most? many?) of my beliefs, which makes me nondogmatic, but I have a tendency to state my beliefs arrogantly and intolerantly, as if they're unrevisable and indubitable. Sometimes I do this to draw out my interlocutor. Sometimes it's just feistiness. (I love to argue.) Sometimes it's pure affect. But it often elicits the label "dogmatist." I know my beliefs have grounds other than authority, so I don't let the label for my manner of expression bother me. Philosophers have thick skins. Hell, we show affection for each other by criticizing!
Dallas (twenty-five miles from my Fort Worth house) is the home of America's Team, the Cowboys. (Actually, the team plays in Irving, a suburb of Dallas.) How is "Cowboys" pronounced? In Texas, I hear it pronounced with an "a" sound. Compare "California" and "Colorado." Say "Colorado" a few times and then "Cowboys." That's how the word is pronounced in Michigan, where I grew up. Now say "California" a few times and then "Cowboys." That's how I hear it in Texas. Not always, of course, but often. Y'all come back now, ya hear?
Your April 1 front-page photo of the burned bodies of Americans hanging from the bridge in Falluja, Iraq, is nerve-shattering. The crowds cheering and dragging other American bodies through the streets add to the gut-wrenching reaction.
What in the world does it take to get us to view these cheering mobs as the enemy? Why isn't our military taking them out?
This failure to take such an action is the major difference in why we won in Germany and Japan and lost in Vietnam.
We are at war, not engaging in some type of politically correct game. Let's get on with it!
JEROME F. MCANDREWS Claremore, Okla., April 1, 2004
I wish to add my thanks to Matthew's for Keith's allowing discussion to continue concerning the justification for the Iraq war. At the risk of overstaying my welcome, I should like to respond to Matthew's 4/2 post. I'll try to be brief.
What alternatives besides sanctions or war were there? My answer is that international diplomatic pressure, especially in concert with other Arab states should have been tried. We're doing it with North Korea, with China as a go-between. Matthew seems to think that there had to be immediate regime change, but there is no evidence that the Baathists had anything to do with international terror. Saddam was a ruthless dictator, but he wasn't threatening us or our allies. Eventually, he would have fallen, perhaps earlier rather than later if tried and convicted in absentia by an international court. The U.N. inspectors were well on their way to showing Saddam up for being a paper tiger.
He also says that "there is no possible way that we could have accurately predicted the full consequences of the war." I agree. But that's all the more reason for not initiating a war. What we could and should have predicted, though, is that we would be met with fierce guerrilla resistance, not with flowers and kisses.
Matthew says that, had I not ignored the multitude of ends to be considered, I would have found the means proportional. But all the ends he mentions are really "ends-in-view," not actual consequences nor even rationally predictable consequences. In waging war one must also consider the likelihood of achieving these goals, and what the additional consequences would be. This wasn't done by the Bush administration. They expected a "cakewalk."
I don't deny that, after a war begins, the U.S. goes out of its way to limit civilian casualties. The question, though, was whether it was justified to initiate the war. Why even begin that "ugly business" when the inspectors were on the ground and actually getting Iraq to destroy their conventional missiles?
Matthew mentions other happenings that have made us safer. I fear that, except for the removal of the Baathist regime (which was at odds with al-Qaida), this is a case of post hoc, ergo propter hoc. I see no causal connection between our invasion of Iraq and, e.g. the lack (to date) of attacks on U.S. targets. I also wish it were true that anti-American rhetoric is simply rhetoric. The recent barbarism in Fallujah, however, goes counter to that.
My question to Matthew is this: Why did we not employ with Iraq the policies that we are now pursuing with North Korea, Syria, and Iran?
I hope you plan to read Bill's Comments with me on a regular basis. Bill has just posted a short autobiography (literally, self life writing), which you may find interesting. I love reading biographies, auto or otherwise, long or short. They remind me that while human beings have much in common, they have many differences. Vive la difference!
William L. Rowe of Purdue University is one of my favorite philosophers. Everything I've ever read by him (see here, for example) is carefully reasoned and beautifully written. As if this weren't enough, he's one of the fairest philosophers I know, and fairness means a great deal to me. Let me give an example. Suppose Rowe disagrees with person P about a particular matter, but thinks P is being unfairly criticized by Q, with whom Rowe agrees. Rowe will defend P from Q's unfair attack. Many people, even philosophers, find this difficult to do, but not Rowe. He'd rather be fair and wrong than unfair and right, although obviously he wants to be both fair and right.
In 1979--a quarter of a century ago--Rowe published "The Problem of Evil and Some Varieties of Atheism" in the American Philosophical Quarterly, which is one of the top periodicals in our discipline. I use the essay in my philosophical-writing seminar as a model. I lecture on it in my Philosophy of Religion courses every other year. I've discussed it in print (in a review of Richard Swinburne's book Is There a God? [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996]). Every time I read the essay, I learn something, something that escaped my attention on previous readings. It is a treasure trove of ideas, distinctions, arguments, and techniques. Here is the second paragraph of the essay, which will show you how careful a writer Rowe is:
Before we consider the argument from evil, we need to distinguish a narrow and a broad sense of the terms "theist," "atheist," and "agnostic." By a "theist" in the narrow sense I mean someone who believes in the existence of an omnipotent, omniscient, eternal, supremely good being who created the world. By a "theist" in the broad sense I mean someone who believes in the existence of some sort of divine being or divine reality. To be a theist in the narrow sense is also to be a theist in the broad sense, but one may be a theist in the broad sense--as was Paul Tillich--without believing that there is a supremely good, omnipotent, omniscient, eternal being who created the world. Similar distinctions must be made between a narrow and a broad sense of the terms "atheist" and "agnostic." To be an atheist in the broad sense is to deny the existence of any sort of divine being or divine reality. Tillich was not an atheist in the broad sense. But he was an atheist in the narrow sense, for he denied that there exists a divine being that is all-knowing, all-powerful and perfectly good. In this paper I will be using the terms "theism," "theist," "atheism," "atheist," "agnosticism," and "agnostic" in the narrow sense, not in the broad sense. (William L. Rowe, "The Problem of Evil and Some Varieties of Atheism," American Philosophical Quarterly 16 [October 1979]: 335-41, at 335)
All of the following propositions are implied by Rowe's definitions:
1. All narrow theists are broad theists.
2. Not all broad theists are narrow theists. In other words, one can be a broad theist without being a narrow theist. Indeed, one can be a broad theist while being a narrow atheist (or agnostic)!
3. All broad atheists are narrow atheists.
4. Not all narrow atheists are broad atheists. In other words, one can be a narrow atheist without being a broad atheist.
5. All broad agnostics are narrow agnostics.
6. Not all narrow agnostics are broad agnostics. In other words, one can be a narrow agnostic without being a broad agnostic.
You might wonder about the significance of this. What problems does Rowe's distinction help us solve? What it does is what any classification, scientific or philosophical, does. It sorts things (in this case people) out. Rowe and I, for example, are broad atheists (and therefore narrow atheists). Richard Swinburne is a narrow theist (and therefore a broad theist). Paul Tillich is a broad theist but a narrow atheist. David Hume, in my judgment, is a broad agnostic (and therefore a narrow agnostic). Rowe and I have something in common with Tillich (viz., narrow atheism) but also an important difference. Swinburne and Tillich have something in common (viz., broad theism) but also an important difference. Rowe and I have nothing in common with Swinburne (at least with respect to theism).
There are always many ways to classify a collection of objects. No classification scheme (taxonomy, typology) is true (or false); they are only more or less useful for our theoretical or practical purposes. For example, I can divide the class of things (a numerically large class!) into (1) those that are both red-haired and left-handed and (2) those that are not both red-haired and left-handed (i.e., those that are either not red-haired or not left-handed or both). These categories are mutually exclusive (meaning no object goes in both categories) and jointly exhaustive (meaning every object goes in at least one category), which is a desideratum of any classification scheme, but are they useful? Are they fecund, in the sense of suggesting testable hypotheses? Probably not. But that doesn't mean the classification scheme is false. It's just useless.
Rowe's distinction between broad and narrow theism has many theoretical and practical uses. If nothing else, it dispels confusion by sharpening our terminology. Rowe, for example, wants it to be clear how he uses the terms "theist," "atheist," and "agnostic." To a philosopher, getting clear about things is an end in itself, not a mere means to some further end. The philosopher's job, as mundane and uninspiring as it may sound to the uninitiated, is to sort things out. The philosopher is a conceptual cartographer, a mapper of logical space. What people choose to do in that space, with that map, is up to them.
Many of you know that I'm a dog person. (See my essay "Doing Right by Our Animal Companions," a link to which appears on the left side of this blog.) My beloved Sophie is eleven years old. We've been together for all but the first two months of her life. I call her my "old pup." She's my best friend. A few months after bringing Sophie home from the breeder's kennel, I brought Ginger home from the Fort Worth Humane Society. The next seven years were, in a word, wonderful. The girls (as I call them) and I rambled thousands of miles through the neighboring woods. We had many adventures and more than a few close calls (floods, rampaging cows, hail, skunks, snakes, &c;). On Thanksgiving Day 2000, to my horror and everlasting grief, Ginger died. She had appeared perfectly healthy until three weeks before, when she became lethargic. Then, over a period of about a week, she had (at least) two seizures, which frightened me greatly. She spent time in a hospital. It turns out she had a lung tumor that had spread to her brain. There was nothing anyone could do. I would have given any amount of money to save her life.
Sophie and I soldiered on, heartbroken, for almost three years. Finally, this past July, it was time to bring some sunshine into our lives. I went to the Humane Society to rescue another dog. There in a cage, on my second trip into the visiting room, was the cutest little girl you've ever seen. She seemed tired, but she walked up to me to say hello. That did it. I had her home in an hour. The card said that Shelbie was three and a half months old, so I gave her a birthdate of 2 April. That means Shelbie is one year old today. Happy birthday, stinker! A few minutes ago I took several pictures in the back yard, after our morning walk. I'll post one in a couple of days.
Shelbie is everything I hoped for and more. She's smart, pretty, affectionate, active, and playful. She reminds me very much of Ginger. Don't say that all dogs are alike. They're as different as people. Sophie, for example, has a different personality from either Ginger or Shelbie. Puppies are susceptible to various diseases, but Shelbie is probably through the riskiest part of her life. She's happy and healthy. She loves everyone (including the mail carrier) and everything (including the arms of the sofa, which are chewed to shreds). She keeps Sophie and the Big Ape on their toes, and goodness knows they need it. Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) said that he would not want to live in a world without dogs. I concur. Pun absolutely intended.
Cur 1. A dog: now always depreciative or contemptuous; a worthless, low-bred, or snappish dog. Formerly (and still sometimes dialectally) applied without depreciation, esp. to a watch-dog or shepherd's dog. (Oxford English Dictionary, 2d ed.)
Has anyone tried to send me e-mail and gotten a Mailblocks challenge? Several months ago, I paid ten dollars for a one-year subscription to Mailblocks, which claims to be a spam-prevention tool. I couldn't get it to work. The instructions made no sense to me. (They were too technical.) Finally, in frustration, I gave up and uninstalled the software (or rather, deleted the Mailblocks stuff from my Outlook Express e-mail accounts).
Fast forward to yesterday. One of my readers, Jan, said something about having to use Mailblocks to get through to me. I was astonished. A few minutes ago, I went to Mailblocks and found that I had over 500 e-mails stored there. It appeared as though all of them had gotten through to me via my EarthLink account, so I deleted them.
I have so many questions I don't know where to begin. First, if Mailblocks has been working all this time, why have I been receiving spam? I don't get a lot of it, but I get some. Why should I get any? Second, assuming that not everyone who sends e-mail to me has had to respond to a challenge, why are only some people (such as Jan) having to do this? Third, why is e-mail being stored by Mailblocks? It's supposed to be forwarded to me. (In other words, why is it both stored and forwarded?)
There appears to be no way for me to terminate my account, so I wrote to Mailblocks asking to have the account disabled. I want nothing to do with such an incompetent company. Please don't waste your money on it. Oh, by the way, did I mention that I never got a response to my e-mails, except one saying that my ten dollars couldn't be refunded? Some company. It's a rip-off.
In case you're wondering, here's what I expected to get for my ten dollars. I expected all of the mail sent to my UTA and EarthLink addresses to be filtered through Mailblocks. When someone sends e-mail to either of those addresses, he or she must respond to a challenge. This keeps spam out. I would get only mail from real people who are willing to take a few seconds (one time) to respond to a challenge. That's it! I don't ever want to see the word "Mailblocks" or have to go to the Mailblocks site. I want Mailblocks to be invisible. It sounds so simple, and yet five college degrees couldn't help me figure it out. Is it me, or is it Mailblocks?
I want to thank Dr. Carrier for taking the time to engage in this dialogue and for his thoughtful responses [see here]. I'd also like to thank Keith for being such a generous host.
I'm glad that I could clear up the issue surrounding the international tribunal needed for assessing the crimes of Saddam and his government. I'll grant that the wheels of justice do turn slowly but grind exceedingly fine, especially when you have the accused in custody. I point out that such procedures are costly and time-consuming because they would serve little or no purpose when the accused is not in custody. Odds of Saddam leaving Iraq like Pinochet left Chile: -1. Odds of Saddam cementing power in Iraq, while the West holds a mock trial: 100%. What would be the punishment of such a trial in absentia, a letter of condemnation, a warrant for arrest, or punitive damages? I fail to see what such a trial would accomplish in any practical sense.
I don't see that you answered my question one. You responded that, "I disagree that we knew enough to reasonably expect anything more than we got." That is not an answer to what a plausible alternative would have looked like, is it? Nor does it seem to answer how you would measure the difference between the real outcome, which is yet to be seen, and your plausible outcome. At this point I'd say that the full consequences are yet to be known, and there is no possible way we could have accurately predicted the full consequences of the war.
In response to question two on proportionality, you give a mixed response employing both jus in bello and jus ad bellum concerns. Jus ad bellum concerns of proportionality address whether the desired end is proportional to the means used. I think that when considering the jus ad bellum notion of proportionality you ignore the multitude of ends that are to be considered; including but not limited to an end to the ongoing Iraq-US conflict following Gulf War I, an end to the sanctions regime, an end of a state known to sponsor terrorism, liberation of the Iraqi people, removal of a brutal dictator, etc. The means employed to achieve these aims were well within accepted and conceivable limits of proportionality.
To address your jus in bello concerns over proportionality, concerns that seek to limit the extent of destruction and casualties by soldiers, I would point out that no other government goes to the extent that the US does to protect noncombatants. Even if we were to accept the worst estimates of a partisan group like Iraq Body Count, the numbers range from 8,799-10,649, which pales in comparison to estimated 400,000 children killed by the sanctions regime. It is not clear under what circumstances these people were killed, obviously some died due to bombing by the US, but I'm left to wonder how many were actual civilians and were they near military targets. That said there is good reason to reject the IBC numbers, which is clear if you look at their methodology. Only 692 civilians have actually been identified according to the IBC. Unfortunately, jus in bello proportionality suffers from lacking a real metric to measure the number of casualties that are acceptable. Obviously any civilian casualties are bad, but it would be naive to think a war could be fought without casualties. Bombs go astray and people make mistakes. War is an ugly business, but I think that when it comes to jus in bello concerns over proportionality and discrimination, US troops are as good as you could reasonably expect.
The evidence contrary to your three is that we have captured a number of top al-Qaeda operatives, removed the Baathist regime in Iraq, seen Libya start to return to the civilized world, enlisted Pakistan to actually combat terrorism (along with a number of other states), seen stronger democratic attempts in Iran, and movement on the issue of Iranian nukes. I could go on and point out the lack of attacks on unprotected US targets like embassies, the USS Cole, Twin Towers, etc. Let me also say that anti-American rhetoric is simply that, rhetoric. Based on that kind of argument we can expect to see French, Spanish, and German terrorists any day.
I mention the sanctions because it seems to be the only alternative to either leaving Saddam and company free to go, or the present war. I'm curious as to what other alternatives you thought existed. Most people who disagreed with the war urged continued containment, or complete withdrawal. I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts on other real alternatives.
As a conservative, I accord a presumption to tradition (the way liberals accord a presumption to individual liberty). But presumptions, by their nature, are rebuttable. Here is a tradition the presumption in favor of which is rebutted.
I've met a lot of interesting and pleasant people in the blogosphere. One of them is Bill Keezer. Bill started a blog today, Bill's Comments. I plan to visit it regularly to partake of Bill's wisdom. I hope you do, too. Welcome to the blogosphere, Bill! Please put up a site counter so we can watch your progress.
Clothing is a part of our difficult, post-Edenic lives; and dress, stationed at a boundary between self and other, marking a distinction between private and public, individual and social, is likely to be vexed by the forces of border wars. Philosophers, those who believe that the life worth living is the examined life, should find that willful ignorance of these matters ill suits them. Could something else be disturbing their thought of fashion?
Philosophers define themselves as the lovers of wisdom, not the beloved. They are the cognizers, and their purest professional aim is to know, not to be known, to think, not to be thought about. A personal interest in dress and open responsiveness to the changing whims of fashion depend upon a recognition that one is seen, that one is--among other things--an object of others' sight, others' cognition. The activity of philosophy may engender a deep antipathy to the acknowledgement of personal passivity, an acknowledgement required for this recognition. And yet we humans are seen--no one is really just a seer. There is a passive phase in the human being, and philosophy is wrong to deny or to berate it.
(Karen Hanson, "Dressing Down Dressing Up--The Philosophic Fear of Fashion," Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy 5 [summer 1990]: 107-21, at 119 [italics in original; endnotes omitted])
"Reason to Run? Nader Argues He Has Plenty" (front page, March 31) continues your tradition of underestimating the breadth of Ralph Nader's appeal.
True conservatives know that Mr. Nader has been as much an opponent of big government as he has been of big corporations, and they are as dismayed as he at the Patriot Act, the Bush deficits and the loss of American sovereignty to international corporate power under the World Trade Organization.
While you are dismissive of Mr. Nader's claims to right-wing support, national polls that were released this week by USA Today/CNN/Gallup and by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press both show Mr. Nader drawing support equally from President Bush and John Kerry.
Further, many on the left see supporting Mr. Nader at this stage as necessary to keep Mr. Kerry from caving in to corporate power.
These voters may be available to Mr. Kerry in the fall, whereas conservatives who see Mr. Bush as crushing individual liberties while selling out America to international corporations are unlikely to see much between now and November to change their minds.
GREGORY KAFOURY Portland, Ore., March 31, 2004 The writer was a chief organizer of the Nader Super Rallies in 2000.
The other day, a former student sent a link to this site. I scrolled through the images, reading the text as I went, and put up a link. It didn't affect me at the time, but it's been haunting me ever since. I had heard of Chernobyl, of course, but never seen images of the region or given much thought to the people who were killed or displaced. The images bring home the human tragedy. I can't get it out of my mind. I think the young woman's bravery has gotten to me, too. Her prose is both matter-of-fact and sensitive, or rather, her sensitivity comes through in spite of her attempt to be matter-of-fact about what she describes. Has anyone else had a delayed, melancholy reaction to this site?
I welcome Matthew's two posts of 3/31 criticizing my reasons against our invading Iraq. I wish to thank him for curing my ignorance concerning the specific international tribunal needed for assessing the crimes of Saddam and his government. I presently hope to return the favor with regard to the other observations that he made. But first, by all means, let justice be served by those bi-lateral agreements that allowed Milosovic to be tried. Matthew complains that such procedures are costly and time-consuming. Yes, but so has been our invasion of Iraq; and the wheels of justice, as Matthew should well know, turn slowly but grind exceedingly fine.
As for the four points he raises in his first post, I have already answered them in what he refers to as "Carrier's new four" in his second post. I should only add that, with regard to point (3), we are not safer for having invaded Iraq because we have wasted hundreds of American lives and billions of dollars that could and should have been used to root out and destroy the al-Qaida terrorists. Instead we have created even more zealots who hate us.
With regard to Matthew's second posting, he points out that the sanctions were failing. Did I say that I supported the sanctions? I did not. They resulted in the deaths of perhaps 400,000 children. My point is simply that it is not rational to replace one failing strategy with another. To think that we can impose democracy by force of arms--especially in the Middle East--is really to bury one's head in the sand.
Finally, he asks for my take on Safire's column on "Kofigate." Well, there's just no limit to human greed. Just ask Halliburton, Brown & Root, and Ariel Sharon. As others reap benefits, the people of Iraq have been made to suffer mightily for living in a land of vast oil reserves and sharp ethnic divisions.
In your post of 3/31/04 1:22:05 PM, you classify chess as an intellectual contest rather than as a sport, which is a physical contest. You seem to be saying that chess (and checkers) are intellectual contests with no physical, hence no sport, dimension. If this is what you are saying, then I disagree.
Tournament chess, which, like all serious chess, is played with clocks, is extremely demanding physically as well as mentally. Suppose the primary time control is 40 moves in 2 hours, the secondary control is 20 moves in 1 hour, and the tertiary control is 1 hour sudden death. Such a contest could last 8 hours with no adjournment! But even if a game lasts 3-4 hours, the physical demands become considerable. To play well, one must be physically fit and keep oneself supplied with nutrients during the game. Physical training is an essential part of the training regimen for the top players.
So I would say that chess counts as a sport. The Dutch employ the term, Denksport. Besides the sport aspect, it is easily arguable that chess has aspects of an art and a science.
There can be no doubt about it: Chess is the game of kings, and the king of games!
Enjoyed your article on Tech Central Station re: traditional values and conservatism [see here]. It prompted the following blog entry at www.stephennewton.com:
A rare insight by way of a blog by Paul, a 'right-of-center, gun-owning, gay Texan', here quoting Keith Burgess-Jackson (BJ), who calls himself AnalPhilosopher: 'Conservatism is committed to a presumption in favor of tradition. Presumptions by their nature are rebuttable. Law is filled with presumptions. There is a legal presumption that people accused of crimes are innocent. To a conservative, traditions are innocent until proved guilty.'
This idea ties in nicely with a US government funded study of the psychology of conservatism, published last year by some of Stanford, California, and Maryland Universities' finest minds. Amongst other things, they discovered rightwing thinkers to be rather dogmatic and averse to ambiguity. So BJ calls on us to follow tradition dogmatically, without proving its value first and he talks of black and white concepts like innocence and guilt.
Yet BJ talks in the abstract, neither defining his traditions nor the crimes of which they're accused. And he talks as if a tradition accused is on a par with a person accused of crime, which is just silly. Of course, leftwing thinkers--and US liberals--do care less for tradition. They tend to concern themselves with issues like prejudice, poverty, and inequality; aberrations they regard as criminal. And all too often they find dogmatic, traditional values--a woman's place in the home, say--at the root of these crimes.
Here is my reply:
31 March 2004, 3:55 P.M. Stephen: Thanks for writing. With all due respect, your letter expresses the liberal bigotry I discussed (and condemned) in my column. You think you're open-minded and I'm a bigot. That's a distortion of the situation. (At a minimum, it's a contentious description.) Our values differ. You accord a presumption to individual liberty (or equality). We conservatives accord a presumption to tradition. We can call each other bigots if we like, but what's the point? Why not just acknowledge that our values differ, and that this leads us to create (and act upon) various presumptions? Each of us is trying to gain power through the political process so as to implement, solidify, and protect our values. kbj
As you were. Time to play softball with the geezers.
I wanted to personally inform you about the death of my father, Joel Feinberg, on Monday around 8:30 AM. He died peacefully after sleeping for about 6 days. There will be a memorial this Saturday at Academy Village, 13701 Old Spanish Trail, at 2 PM.
Do you remember Bart Giamatti? He's the classicist who presided over Yale University and served a stint as commissioner of Major League Baseball. He's the commissioner who kicked Pete Rose out of baseball and then, as punishment for this historic misdeed, died of a heart attack. Giamatti wasn't a philosopher, but to his credit he thought like one. One of the things philosophers do is impose order on (or discern order in) chaos. They classify. They organize. They array. They construct classification schemes, models, taxonomies, flowcharts, and typologies. They sort things out. The rest of us, philosopher and nonphilosopher alike, are the better for it. We grasp relationships that might otherwise have escaped our attention and understanding. Philosophers--the analytic ones, at any rate--help us make sense of the world.
One concept that fascinated Giamatti, as it should fascinate all of us (we are, after all, homo ludens), is play. What is it, and how does it differ from other things to which it's related and with which it might be confused? What do all cases of play have in common that leads us to classify them as cases of play? Perhaps there is no single feature that all cases have in common. Perhaps there is only a cluster of playmaking characteristics (playmakers?) such that possession of some significant subset of them makes a thing a case of play. In other words, perhaps play is a family-resemblance concept.
Here, for your contemplation, consternation, and edification, is Giamatti's taxonomy of play. (If I could insert one of my famous charts in this blog, I would; but I can't, so I won't. Feel free to draw your own chart.) First, Giamatti distinguished between spontaneous and organized forms of play. He called the latter "game." A game, by definition, is organized play. Within the class of games, Giamatti made another distinction: between those games that are competitive (which he called "contests") and those that are noncompetitive. All contests are games, but not all games are contests. Finally, within the class of contests, Giamatti distinguished between those that are intellectual in nature and those that are physical in nature. He called the latter "sport." A sport, by definition, is a physical contest.
Obviously, these last two categories are not mutually exclusive (even if they are jointly exhaustive). Baseball, for example, is both intellectual and physical. I doubt that any physical contest is devoid of intellectual content (with the possible exception of soccer), but some intellectual contests lack a physical dimension. So let's restate the distinction as follows: Contests are either purely intellectual or a mix of intellectual and physical. That makes the categories both mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive.
Giamatti's three distinctions create four mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive categories of play. The first is spontaneous play. This is exemplified by children playing with trucks in the sand. The second is intellectual contest. This is exemplified by chess and checkers. The third is sport. This is exemplified by the sport of the gods, baseball, and by its siblings, bicycle racing and footracing. The fourth is noncompetitive games. This is exemplified by solitaire.
What do you think? I, for one, find Giamatti's taxonomy illuminating. By the way, I was kidding about soccer. I personally get nothing out of it (except unremitting boredom), but I know lots of people do, and I can't afford to be losing readers by disparaging them! I do wonder, however, where golf goes in the taxonomy. I'm inclined to put it in the intellectual-contest category with chess. It grates on me to call golf a sport. Do golfers even sweat? (Oops! There goes my golfing audience.)
In case you're interested, here are the publication details of Giamatti's book: A. Bartlett Giamatti, Take Time for Paradise: Americans and Their Games (New York: Summit Books, 1989). The taxonomy is set out on page 14. Rest in peace, Bart. Our beloved game, baseball, is alive and, well, alive.
Monikers like "Geezers, Gerries and Golden Agers" (Week in Review, March 28) may seem funny to some, even to those they "describe," but they are part of the ubiquitous bias of ageism that I have come to believe does more to emotionally disable and marginalize elderly people than all natural age-related illnesses combined. And you don't have to be very old to be adversely affected.
And while I don't "go gently," and continue to write and speak against age discrimination, I am more and more discouraged by the growing acceptance of this societal injustice (even by older people's advocates and organizations), to which no one in the "no longer young" group is immune.
To be sure, death is not always and necessarily a harm to the one who dies. To the person in hopeless, painful illness, who has already 'withdrawn his investments' in all ulterior interests, there may be nothing to lose, and cessation of agony or boredom to be 'gained', in which case death is a blessing. For the retired nonogenarian, death may not exactly be ardently desired, but still it will be a non-tragedy. Those who mourn his death will not think of themselves as mourning for him, but rather for his dependants [sic] and loved ones, if any, or simply in virtue of the capacity of any memento mori to evoke sadness. In contrast, when a young vigorous person dies, we think of him as chief among those who suffered loss.
When North Texas weather is bad, it's very bad. When it's good, it's very good. Today it is good. We have sunshine, dry air (from the north), and a temperature of 67.1 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course). Walking Sophie and Shelbie just now, I was serenaded by birds of many species. Their individual songs created a beautiful symphony. Native Americans were fond of saying that it's a good day to die. No. It's a good day to live. Alas, I have student essays to grade, but I can do it outside, on my back patio, with an avian symphony as my soundtrack.
Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) on Gratitude to One's Philosophy Teachers
And so too, it seems, should one make a return to those with whom one has studied philosophy; for their worth cannot be measured against money, and they can get no honour which will balance their services, but still it is perhaps enough, as it is with the gods and with one's parents, to give them what one can.
(Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, trans. David Ross, rev. by J. L. Ackrill and J. O. Urmson, The World's Classics [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980 (1925)], 221-2)
"(1) the consequences of our invasion have turned out to be worse than plausible alternatives" [see here].
In what regards and by what measurement? Plausible is not necessarily probable. I think possible worlds in which we may have expected rosier consequences are remote. That said, I certainly think there were lessons to be learned on the part on the US in regards to rebuilding infrastructure, securing the peace, and reinstitution of government.
The other important point to consider here is that the complete book on Iraq has yet to be written. If in the next 10-20 years Iraq turns out to be a decent democracy and a leading state in the Middle East, then the war will appear to future generations as a complete success and Bush will likely be looked on as a hero.
"(2) the means used to wage war were not proportional to the effect to be achieved."
Again I'd have to ask for better explication. The US used targeted conventional weapons to overthrow a brutal regime, not biological/chemical agents or nukes. I can't imagine that you are urging that we should have used fewer troops or lighter munitions.
By the way, proportionality is a secondary jus ad bellum concern. If you wanted to make a just-war argument you'd be on firmer ground basing your critique on the three primary jus ad bellum concerns: just cause, just authority, and right intention. One ongoing concern regarding just war and Iraq is the doctrine of preemption versus preventative war. (Thought I'd throw you a bone.)
"(3) the results of our invasion have not made us any safer."
If you think Saddam was not a threat to the US then I'd have to kindly urge you to pull your head out of the sand. Saddam may have not been the greatest threat facing the US, but that doesn't negate that he was a threat. For your argument to succeed you'd have to show that Saddam and his loyalists were not and never would be a threat to the US.
"(4) it is unjust to wage war."
I don't want to whip out a thousand years of just-war theorist on you, but if you really want to go down this road I think you have no chance of winning this argument.
In regards to Carrier's new four you might point out that the sanctions were failing and there was growing world pressure to drop them. Sanctions are not non-violent. I'd think most ethicists would know that sanctions hurt the people at the bottom the most, and they only help dictators cement their power. If Carrier is concerned about consequences he ought to consider the consequences of the sanctions regime which killed far more Iraqi civilians than the war did.
Further, Carrier has no grasp of the international legal system. By "World Court" I take him to mean the International Court of Justice. Well, at least he didn't say the International Criminal Court, since the court cannot hear cases from before July 1, 2002. Unfortunately for your argument, the ICJ cannot prosecute for war crimes either. Only UN states may appear before the ICJ, not individuals. Besides which, to my understanding, it is not a criminal court. You may have been thinking of the existing ad-hoc tribunals: the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) and the International Criminal Tribunal for Yugoslavia (ICTY), which were created by the UN Security Council. Although they try individuals for genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes, their mandate is limited; in the case of the ICTY to the region of the Former Yugoslavia, and in the case of the ICTR to crimes committed in Rwanda between April and June 1994. Setting up such ad-hoc courts is expensive and time-consuming, and because they are established after the fact, they are often criticized as victor's justice.
One side note. I wonder what your take on William Safire's piece "Follow-Up to Kofigate" was. [See here.]
Here is the latest on Ralph Nader's presidential candidacy. I'm one of the rare birds mentioned in the story: a conservative supporter of Nader. Go, Ralph, go!
Brian Leiter has a nice tribute to Joel Feinberg here. I agree with everything he says about Joel. I was Joel's student from mid-August 1983, when I started my graduate studies at The University of Arizona, until 1 August 1989, when I defended my dissertation. Joel served on all my committees and directed my dissertation. I was always in awe of the man and felt undeserving to be mentored by someone of his stature. That he asked me to teach his courses from time to time, wrote about me in one of his books, invited me to his house, helped me get a job, responded to my letters long after I left Tucson, and in general treated me with kindness and respect, meant more to me than words can convey.
Let me give one example of Joel's kindness. After one of my major exams (probably the Ph.D. qualifying exam, which determines whether one is allowed to proceed in the program beyond the M.A. level), I was in my small apartment on the east side of town. I was probably celebrating by listening to a favorite album. The telephone rang. It was Joel. He said he wanted to let me know that everyone on the committee thought I had done very well on the exam. He called because he didn't want me to think I had scraped by or anything. Imagine how this made me feel. Joel had a way of making every person he knew--including his many students--feel special.
In all honesty, I have never heard a single disparaging word about Joel, personally or professionally. I am honored to have known him. He is one of the most important people in my life. Think about it. I'm deliriously happy with my life as a philosopher. Joel made that possible. He's responsible for my happiness! Whenever I explained this to him, he dismissed it by saying he was only doing his duty. "You shouldn't express gratitude to those who do their duty," he would say. "Gratitude is appropriate only in cases where one has gone beyond the call of duty." But that's just it. He did far more than his duty by any reasonable standard. That he thought he was doing his duty and nothing more demonstrates his magnanimity. He was the Mother Teresa of philosophy.
I am grateful to Keith Burgess-Jackson for letting me air my arguments on his weblog. It is also interesting to me that, from reading his ethical views, I find that we do not differ that much in theory. I am also a subjectivist in ethics, believing that Hume was right in speaking of that "sentiment of humanity" to which all our evaluative judgments must appeal. I am also an ethical pluralist in holding that there is no one ethical principle that is without exception; and, given the circumstances, any one of them might be overridden. I also believe that the rational thing to do is to try to keep one's beliefs in a moral equilibrium.
Where we disagree, apparently, is on the facts. Let me take the points of Professor Burgess-Jackson's 3/30 post in the order that he presents them.
(1) He says that justification for invading Iraq must look to "what consequences could be reasonably expected, given what was known." I agree. I disagree that we knew enough to reasonably expect anything more than we got. Other old hands, including an ex-CIA correspondent of mine who worked many years in the Middle East, predicted the aftermath. Their advice was simply disregarded by those in the Bush administration who had unrealistic expectations.
(2) Burgess-Jackson thinks our means were appropriate to the end. I think he confuses "end-in-view" with "end" as consequence. Granted, there was a wonderful end-in-view--democracy dominos in the Middle East after Saddam's fall. But that end-in-view was unrealistic. One can't employ bunker busters and cluster bombs that kill innocent people solely on the fervent wish that Arabs would flock to Western-style representative democracy. Islam is more important to Arabs than our form of government.
(3) Burgess-Jackson says that we are safer because of the war. Where is the evidence? Judging from the anti-American rhetoric that is emanating from Iraq, we are making new enemies every day.
(4) Burgess-Jackson disagrees that other means could have been used to oust Saddam Hussein. I maintain, rather, that war should be a last alternative. We could have continued to keep international pressure on his government, including prosecution for war crimes in the World Court. This is not a simple solution, since it takes time. But even Chile's Pinochet finally had to answer for his crimes, and it was done in a legally sanctioned way.
I've been blogging for almost five months. During that time, as my regular readers know, I have linked to many sites, including personal blogs. I'm happy to help aspiring bloggers, in part because I received so much help of my own (from the likes of John Ray, Greg Goelzhauser, and Matthew Mullins). I'm paying it forward. I'm delighted, for example, with the success of Peg Kaplan over at What If? and Steve Headley over at Texas Conservative. But I don't link only to sites of those who share my values. How many times have I linked to essays with which I disagree? Just this evening, I linked to the text of Peter Carruthers's book The Animals Issue. I read this book in 1996 and disagree emphatically with its conclusion that animals lack rights. You, however, might read it and agree with Carruthers. Would I prefer that you not agree with Carruthers? Yes--for the sake of the animals. Does that prevent me from recommending it to you? Of course not. Of course not.
I try to be fair. The blogosphere should be open to reasoned discussion. Let the truth emerge from the clash of opinions. As a philosopher, I welcome and encourage debate. I want you to read what I write, obviously, but I also want you to read what's written by those with whom I disagree. Unfortunately, not everyone sees things this way. I've come across several prominent bloggers who refuse to link to sites in which views contrary to their own are expressed. Brian Leiter is the most conspicuous example. I hinted quite broadly to him early on that I would appreciate a link. I never got it. At first I thought he was dense, but now I think there's a different explanation. Leiter is a Leftist. He knows I'm a conservative. He doesn't want to direct his readers to a conservative site. If I'm wrong about this, he can prove it by linking to my blog. Don't hold your breath.
Another culprit is Andrew Sullivan. How many times have I linked to his blog? Dozens, right? Has he linked to my blog? No. I've sent him many of my blog entries by e-mail, so it's not as if he doesn't know me. Ah, you say, but you've been critical of him. Exactly! Wouldn't an honest, confident person engage his or her critics in a public way? Not Sullivan. Nor am I alone in this regard. Sullivan refuses to link to Donald Luskin. See here. Don Luskin is a dogged critic; but he's fair. He gives reasons for his disagreements, whether they're with Paul Krugman, Andrew Sullivan, or someone else.
Sometimes I think there's a game being played. There's a kind of hierarchy among bloggers. Andrew Sullivan gets upwards of 50,000 hits a day (or so I read some time back). I get about 400. Sullivan may think that I'd get more out of a link from him than he would out of a link from me. Okay, but so what? Many relationships are like that: parent and child, for example. Suppose everyone reasoned in this manner. Glenn Reynolds of InstaPundit wouldn't link to anyone, because he's the top blog dog. I would link to Sullivan and Reynolds, but not to people who get fewer daily hits than I do. Isn't this stupid and petty? With all due respect to Leiter and Sullivan, I think they're afraid of their critics. By refusing to link to them, they (1) insulate themselves from criticism and (2) hide their shortcomings from their readers. This is pusillanimity. One wonders why they took up blogging in the first place.
Full disclosure: Don Luskin linked to my site right away, and has linked to me several times since. He even put a permanent link on the left side of his blog, for which I am grateful. I can tell from my site-counter data that Don's links have sent many of his readers my way. What did it cost him? Nothing. Okay, a few seconds of his time. What did it gain him? Respect--and a loyal reader. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Don Luskin is a better person than Brian Leiter and Andrew Sullivan.
Peg Kaplan is back home in Minnesota, home of the irrepressible Jesse Ventura and the irresponsible Walter Mondale, after a fabulously successful bridge tournament in Reno. She's back to blogging as well. See here. Good to have you back, Peg! The average intelligence of the blogosphere just increased.
The question whether Christianity requires vegetarianism is open. If you think it's closed, you're not keeping up. Here is a list of books on the topic. May I make a suggestion? Until you've read and digested these books, why not institute a moratorium on meat-eating? Give animals the benefit of the doubt.
Dance,v.i. To leap about to the sound of tittering music, preferably with arms about your neighbor's wife or daughter. There are many kinds of dances, but all those requiring the participation of the two sexes have two characteristics in common: they are conspicuously innocent, and warmly loved by the vicious.
Len Carrier, a retired philosophy teacher (but not a retired philosopher!), opposed the war in Iraq. He writes (see here for the full letter):
My main reasons against our invasion are as follows: (1) the consequences of our invasion have turned out to be worse than plausible alternatives; (2) the means used to wage war were not proportional to the effect to be achieved; (3) the results of our invasion have not made us any safer; (4) it is unjust to wage war, foreseeing that the conflict will result in the deaths or maiming of innocents, which otherwise could have been prevented.
(1) Carrier says the consequences of war "turned out" to be worse than plausible alternatives. Unless one is an actual-consequences consequentialist, which I am not, that's irrelevant. The question is what consequences could reasonably be expected at the time, given what was known. (2) As for the means, I disagree with Carrier. I believe the means were proportional and appropriate to the end. (3) I also disagree that we (I assume he means Americans) are no safer as a result of the war. We're much safer, as are Iraqis, Iranians, Kuwaitis, Israelis, and others in the Middle East. Not only are we safer, but the world is a much better place in other respects as a result of the war. It's freer, for example. It's more just. (4) I reject Carrier's fourth reason.
Carrier has done nothing to change my mind that the war in Iraq was justified. Has he changed your mind?
Here is an interesting essay by William Saletan on the misguided strategies of the so-called pro-choice movement. I'm reminded of the tendency of students asked to defend a thesis to say or imply that there is no case for the denial of the thesis. But things are rarely this stark. There is almost always a good case to be made for the other side (as every lawyer knows). The pro-choice movement appears to think that unless the fetus has no moral or legal status whatsoever, the case for abortion rights collapses. They therefore do everything they can to deny moral and legal status to the fetus. But this leads to absurdities, as Saletan shows.
This is in response to your post of 3/29/04. Far be it from me to be considered a "pundit." I rely only on logic and the power of observation. I am certainly not one of those who would criticize our invading Iraq only by questioning the motives of those who made that decision (although those motives might make the reasons given for our invasion suspect).
My main reasons against our invasion are as follows: (1) the consequences of our invasion have turned out to be worse than plausible alternatives; (2) the means used to wage war were not proportional to the effect to be achieved; (3) the results of our invasion have not made us any safer; (4) it is unjust to wage war, foreseeing that the conflict will result in the deaths or maiming of innocents, which otherwise could have been prevented.
As you can see, these reasons contain both consequentialist and deontological considerations. I am willing to challenge anyone who disputes these claims. Of course, as a philosopher, I am willing to revise any of my claims in the light of further evidence. But I should remind those who disagree with me that the waging of war requires serious reasons; those who dissent are the ones entitled to those reasons.
I was startled to read in "Less Jaw, Big Brain: Evolution Milestone Laid to Gene Flaw" (front page, March 25) your reference to "the more graceful human jaw, in contrast to apes' protruding jaw and facial ridges."
This is uncalled for. Believe me, we don't look so pretty to chimpanzees either.
Here is Paul Krugman's latest rant, courtesy of The New York Times. Reading it, one wonders about two things. First, did Krugman apply the same standard to the Clinton administration, which was every bit as vile, ruthless, and duplicitous as Krugman says the Bush administration is? Second, will he apply the same standard to the Kerry administration, should there be one? (Perish the thought.) I think it's clear that he didn't and won't, in which case, he's applying a double standard. Double standards without relevant differences are irrational. When they involve human beings, they're immoral.
Madonna is the true feminist. She exposes the puritanism and suffocating ideology of American feminism, which is stuck in an adolescent whining mode. Madonna has taught young women to be fully female and sexual while still exercising control over their lives. She shows girls how to be attractive, sensual, energetic, ambitious, aggressive, and funny--all at the same time.
American feminism has a man problem. The beaming Betty Crockers, hangdog dowdies, and parochial prudes who call themselves feminists want men to be like women. They fear and despise the masculine. The academic feminists think their nerdy bookworm husbands are the ideal model of human manhood.
But Madonna loves real men. She sees the beauty of masculinity, in all its rough vigor and sweaty athletic perfection. She also admires the men who are actually like women: transsexuals and flamboyant drag queens, the heroes of the 1969 Stonewall rebellion, which started the gay liberation movement.
* * *
Contemporary American feminism, which began by rejecting Freud because of his alleged sexism, has shut itself off from his ideas of ambiguity, contradiction, conflict, ambivalence. Its simplistic psychology is illustrated by the new cliche of the date-rape furor: "'No' always means 'no.'" Will we ever graduate from the Girl Scouts? "No" has always been, and always will be, part of the dangerous, alluring courtship ritual of sex and seduction, observable even in the animal kingdom.
Madonna has a far profounder vision of sex than do the feminists. She sees both the animality and the artifice. Changing her costume style and hair color virtually every month, Madonna embodies the eternal values of beauty and pleasure. Feminism says, "No more masks." Madonna says we are nothing but masks.
Through her enormous impact on young women around the world, Madonna is the future of feminism.
(Camille Paglia, "Madonna I: Animality and Artifice," in Sex, Art, and American Culture: Essays [New York: Vintage Books, 1992], 3-5, at 4-5 [essay originally published in 1990])
Has anyone besides me noticed Andrew Sullivan's slipperiness? See here. When it appears that homosexual "marriage" is going to be forbidden by constitutional amendment, he's a federalist, clamoring for the rights of states to decide for themselves. When it appears that there's a chance for state or federal courts to mandate homosexual "marriage," he talks the language of fundamental rights. He's a federalist when he's losing but not when he's winning. For him, federalism isn't a principled position; it's a hedge. What he really wants--as readers of his blog well know--is to force homosexual "marriage" down everyone's throat. Don't trust him.
Jody Kraus, my friend from graduate school (and now a professor of law at The University of Virginia), just forwarded the following message to me (thanks, Jody):
Friends, I regret to inform you that Regents Professor of Philosophy and Law (Emeritus) Joel Feinberg died today, March 29, in Tucson following a long illness.
Professor Feinberg retired from the University of Arizona Philosophy Department in 1994 after 17 years on the faculty. Prior to his appointment at Arizona, Professor Feinberg taught at Brown University, Princeton University, UCLA, and Rockefeller University. He held the B.A., M.A., and Ph.D. from the University of Michigan.
Professor Feinberg was internationally distinguished for his research in moral, social, and legal philosophy. His major four-volume work, The Moral Limits of the Criminal Law, was published between 1984 and 1988. Professor Feinberg held many major fellowships during his career and lectured by invitation at universities around the world. He was an esteemed and highly successful teacher, and many of his students are now prominent scholars and professors at universities across the country.
Professor Feinberg is survived by his wife, Betty, daughter, Melissa, and son, Ben. The family is planning a memorial to be held later this week on a date to be determined.
Professor Jules Coleman of Yale University is presently composing a proper professional obituary for Professor Feinberg.
You are welcome to forward this message to others.
I will write about Joel in days to come. Here, for those who would like to savor the work of a great philosopher, is his bibliography. Incidentally, my department just created an award in honor of Joel. See here. It would be nice if all of Joel's students throughout the world created awards in his name at their universities.
I agree with the points you made [here], however I would add something to this. Never should a civilized nation or group of nations negotiate with terror groups. We should however try to understand why in particular Middle Eastern people dislike the West. I think the Bush administration is heading in the right direction by trying to turn Iraq into a Democratic state. This should make the rest of this slag heap take notice.
If we look at all the economic numbers coming out of Iraq at the moment they are just fabulous. Electricity shortages are occurring because consumption has gone way up--much higher than when the creep was running the country. There are gas shortages because since the end of the war 500,000 vehicles have been imported and sold. Real estate prices in the major cities are much higher. White-goods sales are off the charts. Most importantly real wages are going higher. This is all great stuff and it's all due to the wonderful liberation of Iraq by America.
Fool,n. A person who pervades the domain of intellectual speculation and diffuses himself through the channels of moral activity. He is omnific, omniform, omnipercipient, omniscient, omnipotent. He it was who invented letters, printing, the railroad, the steamboat, the telegraph, the platitude, and the circle of the sciences. He created patriotism and taught the nations war--founded theology, philosophy, law, medicine and Chicago. He established monarchical and republican government. He is from everlasting to everlasting--such as creation's dawn beheld he fooleth now. In the morning of time he sang upon primitive hills, and in the noonday of existence headed the procession of being. His grandmotherly hand has warmly tucked-in the set sun of civilization, and in the twilight he prepares Man's evening meal of milk-and-morality and turns down the covers of the universal grave. And after the rest of us shall have retired for the night of eternal oblivion he will sit up to write a history of human civilization.
How have you been? I've been enjoying your recent columns on Tech Central Station and your Animal Ethics blog. In case you're interested, I just wrote an essay attempting to persuade my fellow libertarians of what I call a "reasoned animal rights position" based on the so-called Argument from Marginal Cases:
My feeling is, if I can persuade just a few libertarians or conservatives that animal rights is not as ridiculous as they thought--that it is a legitimate position that a person can accept rationally--I will have accomplished something.
Re "Jefferson, Madison, Newdow?," by Kenneth C. Davis (Op-Ed, March 26):
As Mr. Davis so eloquently stated, my brother Michael Newdow stood before the Supreme Court for all of us.
By seeking to remove "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance, Dr. Newdow is protecting all Americans. Who can say if and when any one of us will be in the minority?
Isn't it astounding that the settlers came here to escape religious persecution, and yet we continue to do the same thing by condemning atheists or anyone else we deem as nonbelievers? On 9/11, when religious zealots caused the unspeakable destruction of our hearts and souls, they did it in the name of their God.
True freedom is the right to practice your religion but not inflict those beliefs on anyone else. Religion is fine, it just does not belong in government. Period.
Only a fanatic--someone so zealous as to have lost the capacity to think clearly--could oppose a law that punishes feticide. See here. This has nothing to do with abortion, the legal right to which, for better or for worse, remains intact. (See here for discussion of this point by experts.) Look: I have a right to destroy my property. That doesn't give you a right to destroy my property. I have a right to spank my children. That doesn't give you a right to spank my children. Women have a (legal) right to kill their fetuses. That doesn't give anyone else a (legal) right to kill their fetuses. It's so simple and so obvious that it makes you wonder about the intelligence and good will of those (see here and here) who oppose the law.
Here is a PDF version of the bill, which is known as the Unborn Victims of Violence Act of 2004. President Bush has announced his intention (see here) to sign the bill into law. Once he does, fetuses will be protected from everyone except their mothers.
I just subscribed to The Salisbury Review: The Quarterly Journal of Conservative Thought so I can keep up with British conservatism. The review was founded by Roger Scruton, so you know it has high literary and philosophical standards. For more information, including details on how to subscribe, click here.
By the way, did I ever tell you that I'm attracted to all things British? I love British rock-and-roll music (Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Queen, Yes, Genesis, The Who, &c;), British humor, British philosophy, and, especially in women, British accents. I'm an Anglophile. I'm also a Francophobe, despite having studied French for four years and despite loving the Tour de France. I'm the anti-Jefferson.
It pains me to say this, but the quality of argumentation concerning the war in Iraq is low, even among pundits. One might expect the uneducated to commit fallacies, but it's inexcusable for anyone with any education to make the reasoning errors I see every day.
For example, there's still an obsession in many quarters with President Bush's motivation in going to war. He did it for ulterior reason U, it is said, not for stated reason S. But what's the upshot of this? Is the implication that, if President Bush were badly motivated, the war was unjust, so that the only question is whether he was badly motivated? That's a non sequitur. Well-motivated, good people can act wrongly and poorly motivated, bad people can act rightly. We can and should evaluate persons, motives, and actions separately, by different standards.
Nor does it follow from the fact (if it is a fact) that President Bush's stated justification for the war was inadequate that the war was unjust. There can be more than one argument for a given proposition, such as "The war in Iraq was just." That some or all of these arguments are unsound does not establish the falsity of the conclusion. Unsound arguments can have true conclusions! Critics of the war must do much more than find fault with President Bush's stated justification for the war. They must address all arguments for the war. Having found fault with all of them (not just some), they must construct a sound argument against the war. I haven't seen anyone come close to doing this. There's usually a quick dismissal or questioning of President Bush's motives or reasoning and then a leap to the conclusion that the war was unjust. This is sloppy thinking.
Let me discuss another war-related matter. I've heard it said that the war in Iraq does not satisfy the requirements for a just war under just-war theory. But theories, whether in science or in morality, are revisable in light of experience. The process known as reflective equilibrium requires that one find a balance between one's theory or principles on the one hand and one's judgments in particular cases on the other. If the theory gives too many unacceptable results, it may have to be modified or abandoned. Sometimes accommodation should be made in one's judgments rather than in one's theory.
Suppose just-war theory entails that the war in Iraq was unjust. That doesn't prove that the war was unjust; it just raises the question whether the theory should be modified or abandoned. There are three possibilities:
1. Modify or abandon the theory (while retaining the judgment that the war in Iraq was just).
2. Retain the theory but abandon the judgment that the war in Iraq was just.
3. Show that the theory, properly understood, does not have the stated implication. In other words, show that just-war theory does not, in fact, entail that the war in Iraq was unjust.
My point is that it's not unreasonable for a proponent of the just-war theory to revise it in light of the judgment that the war in Iraq was just. Perhaps the just-war theory needs revision in light of our experience with terrorism. Our theories must change with the times, and the times they are a changin'.
I say again here, what I have said in the pages which follow, that from the faults and weaknesses of bookmen a notion of something bookish, pedantic, and futile has got itself more or less connected with the word culture, and that it is a pity we cannot use a word more perfectly free from all shadow of reproach. And yet, futile as are many bookmen, and helpless as books and reading often prove for bringing nearer to perfection those who use them, one must, I think, be struck more and more, the longer one lives, to find how much, in our present society, a man's life of each day depends for its solidity and value on whether he reads during that day, and, far more still, on what he reads during it. More and more he who examines himself will find the difference it makes to him, at the end of any given day, whether or no he has pursued his avocations throughout it without reading at all; and whether or no, having read something, he has read the newspapers only.
(Matthew Arnold, Culture and Anarchy, ed. J. Dover Wilson, Landmarks in the History of Education [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960], x [originally published in 1869])
