Rational Philosophy

Who am I? What am I? What is that?

In New York, many people who work in corporate environments also pursue artistic endeavors. If you ask someone what she does, she may say she’s a financial analyst, but that she acts in her spare time. I have a friend who introduces himself as an artist, even though that is not what he does to earn a living. In fact, he does not try to make a living by selling his artwork because he believes that would alter his artistic vision. For him, honesty in being is paramount; declaration of identity becomes a matter of trying to live honestly.

Florida has begun to respond to an alarming increase in unprovoked attacks on the homeless, many committed by young people. Warren Messner, who is serving a 22 year sentence for his part in the death of homeless man Michael Roberts, admits his culpability, but says, “I’m not a killer. I know that. A lot of people, they see this story and call us killers. I’m not a killer.”

Interviewed for the story, Maria Foscarinis, executive director of the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, indicates that the rising trend in violence against homeless people reflects a lack of respect for the homeless that “has reached such extreme proportions that homeless people aren’t viewed as people.”

This would explain why Messner still doesn’t see himself as a killer. He regrets his crime, but can’t quite grasp the idea that he killed another person.

John Locke recognized that the concept of personal identity rests on our consciousness. But the label we ascribe to our identity has less to do with a consistent sence of self, and more to do with our relation of self to others. It is language-based. We use words to express the person we want to believe ourselves to be in the eyes of others, or who we want others to believe us to be.

My friend, for example, prefers to call himself an artist because this word corresponds most closely to the truth he wants to convey to others. He feels himself an artist. Therefore that is the word he uses. Messner does not want to call himself a killer because this term does not tally with his sense of himself; in Messner’s mind he is not a killer because the term “homeless person” corresponds to an inferior being, something less than a person.

Homeless advocates point out that as society curtails the rights and freedoms of homeless people it devalues society’s sense of the homeless. The term ‘homeless’ becomes freighted with new and dangerous meaning; it begins to mean ‘less than our equal.’ The same things happens with the label assigned to any group being persecuted or discriminated against.

For some reason I have connected this matter of identity with a story from the world of astronomy.

Astronomers and lay-astronomers have used a new and mind-bogglingly subtle technique (micro-lensing) to detect and analyze planetary systems thousands of light years from earth. Einstein predicted that massive objects curve space-time. His theory shows that the path of light waves will be bent as they pass by a massive object. This means that as two stars far out in space become briefly aligned, the light from the more distant star will be focused by the nearer star creating a sudden increase in intensity that astronomers now watch out for. By measuring fluctuations in the brightened light, astronomers can detect the existence of any large planets around the nearer star, since they will cause some additional brightness.

A report of one such event indicates the existence of a solar system possibly somewhat similar to our own about 5,000 light years from earth. Alan Boss, a theorist at the Carnegie Institution of Washington, said, “The fact that these are hard to detect by microlensing means there must be a good number of them — solar system analogues are not rare.”

The quest to detect life or the possibility of life on other planets seems to be inspired by two motivations: To satisfy our curiosity about whether other life exists, and to confirm our own identity as being alone or not alone in the universe.

Which does find us back, I think, at language and identity. Depending upon how we define the terms, we are either alone or not alone, either in our head, in our home, in our city, on our planet or in the universe. If we cannot treat our fellow human beings with respect as equals, we may as well see ourselves as a collection of individuals, discrete and disconnected. But, if we can understand that all life and all existence emerged and congealed out of the primordial energy soup, we become aware of the oneness of everything, and the danger of labels.

For a rational, science-based explanation of life’s meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

(OK, that’s one of my four lies for today.)

On lying and its uses: Rudy, McCain, Bush, and your average guy.

After Giuliani’s thankfully dismal showing in Florida, the rush to spout fibs found Giuliani and McCain vying for who could tell the biggest whopper. First Giuliani suggested that he had failed in Florida because his opponents had built up too much momentum in earlier primaries, whereas, in fact, Giuliani spent a lot of money and time in New Hampshire before retreating from that state. McCain countered with the gracious and fallacious compliment that Giuliani had “invested his heart and soul” in the race, which of course was exactly what Giuliani hadn’t done, otherwise he would have performed much better. McCain followed this up swiftly with an upper-cut of an untruth declaring that Giuliani had “conducted himself with all the qualities of the exceptional American leader he truly is.” Giuliani tried to recover with a transparent falsehood of his own; that he had run “a campaign of ideas.” But McCain, again, clearly had him beat.

On a less happy and more serious note, the editorial board of the NY Times brings our attention to the latest lies from George W. Bush. If you’re going to tell lies, I suppose that delivering them in a state of the union address endows them with a deep and lasting sense of moment and history. The Bush legacy will be in large part one of mass deception – about weapons of mass destruction, the illegal activities of the government and its agencies, and the intent and actions of Bush himself. As The Times points out, Bush’s reconciliatory rhetoric conflicts with his deeds, yet again, as he refuses to respect certain new legal provisions that would increase oversight of military contractors, their actions, and the acts of government agencies by asserting in his signing statement that these provisions step on his constitutional powers.

Bush is an inveterate and habitual liar. One can presume, by studying his behavior and his words, that he feels no remorse about his lies and that he believes the ends justify the means.

Which brings me to a recent study that finds that people admit to telling about four untruths per day and that two-thirds of those polled don’t feel guilty about lying. Now, statistics can be misleading, but in this case, as one commentor wryly observed, asking people to admit to how many lies they tell will probably result in under-reporting rather than over-reporting. (Another study lends support to this theory by finding that people underreport the number of their sexual partners unless they’re told that they’re hooked up to a lie-detector.)

The actual numbers concern me less than the philosophy of lying.

We lie, it seems, to avoid unwanted repercussions, to sway the course of events by untruth. This applies to the fib “no, you don’t sound bitter” as well as to the deception of a nation so that you can fill your cronies’ coffers. 

Essayist Harold Nicolson defined a person who tells the truth as ’someone who, when they tell a lie, is careful not to forget they have done so, and who takes infinite precautions to prevent being found out.’ This is humorous, of course, but hints at the “humanness” of lying. Surely very few people habitually tell the truth, and those that do would be considered odd and unnecessarily blunt. One generally likes to be lied to if one looks lousy or has made a fool of onesself, for instance.

Is this a distinction that helps us? Lies are OK if the person wants to be lied to.

And what about lies that avoid unreasonable conflict? If we know that someone will react unreasonably to the truth, does that justify a lie?

It seems that we get much more worked up about the lies people tell to get away with something, to avoid being held accountable for their actions, unless the accountability is unreasonable or irrational. (We like the idea of Robin Hood. And we support the concept of the resistance fighter who lies to the oppressing power.)

The intent of the lie and the legitimacy of the repercussions of the truth then seems to be far more important, rationally speaking, than the act of lying itself.

Which brings us to the concept of honesty. When we speak of honesty as a virtue, we are really speaking of the bravery that comes with telling a difficult truth, of risking the consequences. What seems to be lacking in politics today is the bravery to tell difficult truths. One by one the candidates shift positions in order to sound more appealing to the voters, or to cast shadow on an opponent. McCain has done it, Romney has done it, Clinton has done it, Obama has been accused of doing it (did he snub Hillary Clinton deliberately or unintentionally before the state of the union address?)

And I wonder if we were to be served up an honest politician, would we elect them, truth and all, or would we prefer to be lied to?

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