On Books and Gratitude

Occasionally, Robert Paul Wolff says something at his blog that I agree with completely, for instance:

To an extent I did not anticipate when I set out on life’s path, books have provided many of the joys and satisfactions I have encountered.  I am constantly grateful to the scholars and thinkers who have written, and continue to write, the books from which I derive such pleasure, both the great authors of the past . . . and those less exalted . . . .

Gratitude is a characteristically conservative virtue; hence its presence in Wolff softens my attitude toward him. 

As Wolff suggests, our gratitude should extend to the lesser lights, the humbler laborers in the vineyards of Wissenschaft, the commentators and translators, the editors and compilers and publishers.  Beyond that, to the librarians and the supporters of libraries, and all the preservers and transmitters of high culture, and those who, unlettered themselves in the main, defend with blood and iron the precincts of high culture from the barbarians who now once again are massing at the gates.

Nor should we forget the dedicated teachers, mostly women, who taught us to read and write and who opened up the world of learning to us and a lifetime of the sublime joys of study and reading and writing.

Once Again: The Importance of Self Control

A post from last year applicable to the Michael Dunn case.  Like Trayvon Martin, Michael Dunn has ruined his life by failing to exercise self control.

…………..

There is so much to learn from the Trayvon Martin affair.  One 'take-away' is the importance of self-control.  If Martin had been taught, or rather had learned, to control himself he would most likely be alive today.  But he didn't.  He blew his cool when questioned about his trespassing in a gated community on a rainy night.  He punched a man in the face and broke his nose, then jumped on him, pinned him down, and told him that he was going to die that night.  So, naturally, the man defended himself against the deadly attack with deadly force.  What George Zimmerman did was both morally and legally permissible.  If some strapping youth is pounding your head into the pavement, you are about to suffer "grave bodily harm" if not death.  What we have here is clearly a case of self-defense. 

Does race enter into this?  In one way it does. Blacks as a group have a rather more emotional nature than whites as a group.  (If you deny this, you have never lived in a black neighborhood or worked with blacks, as I have.)  So, while self-control is important for all,  the early inculcation of self-control is even more important for blacks. 

Hard looks, hateful looks, suspicious looks — we all get them from time to time, but they are not justifications for launching a physical assault on the looker.  The same goes for harsh words. 

If you want to be successful you must learn to control yourself. You must learn to control your thoughts, your words, and your behavior.  You must learn to keep a tight rein on your feelings. Before leaving your house, you must remind yourself that you are likely to meet offensive people.  Rehearse your Stoic and other maxims so that you will be ready should the vexatious and worse heave into view.   Unfortunately, liberals in positions of authority have abdicated when it comes to moral education.  For example, they refuse to enforce discipline in classrooms.  They refuse to teach morality.  They tolerate bad behavior.  So liberals, as usual, are part of the problem.

But that is to put it too mildly.  There is no decency on the Left, no wisdom, and, increasingly, no sanity.  For example, the crazy comparison of Trayvon Martin with Emmet Till.  But perhaps I should put the point disjunctively: you are either crazy if you make that comparison, or moral scum. 

Less crazy, but still crazy is the comparison of Michael Dunn to George Zimmerman.

Had enough yet?  If not, read this and this.

The Afterlife of Habit upon the Death of Desire

Desire leads to the gratification of desire, which in turn leads to the repetition of the gratification.  Repeated gratification in turn leads to the formation of an intensely pleasurable habit, one that persists even after the desire wanes and  disappears, the very desire without whose gratification the  habit wouldn't exist in the first place.  Memories of pleasure conspire in the maintenance of habit.  The ancient rake, exhausted and infirm, is not up for another round of debauchery, but the memories haunt him, of pleasures past.  The memories keep alive the habit after the desire has fled the decrepit body that refuses to serve as an engine of pleasure.

And that puts me in mind of Schopenhauer's advice.  "Abandon your vices before they abandon you."

The Parable of the Tree and the House

A man planted a tree to shade his house from the desert sun. The tree, a palo verde, grew like a weed and was soon taller than the house. The house became envious, feeling diminished by the tree’s stature. The house said to the tree: "How dare you outstrip me, you who were once so puny! I towered above you, but you have made me small."

The tree replied to the house: "Why, Mr. House, do you begrudge me the natural unfolding of my potentiality, especially when I provide you with cooling shade? I have not made you small. It is not in my power to add or subtract one cubit from your stature. The change you have ‘undergone’ is a mere Cambridge change. You have gone from being taller than me to being shorter; but this implies no real change in you: all the real change is in me. What’s more, the real change in me accrues to your benefit. As I rise and spread my branches, you are sheltered and cooled. The real change in me causes a real change in you in respect of temperature."

Heed well this parable, my brothers and sisters. When your neighbor outstrips you in health and wealth, in virtue and vigor, in blog posts or the length of his curriculum vitae – hate him not. For his successes, which are real changes in him, need induce no real changes in you. His advance diminishes you not one iota. Indeed, his real changes work to your benefit. You will not have to tend him in sickness, nor loan him money; your tax dollars will not be used to subsidize his dissoluteness; the more hits his weblog receives, the more yours will receive; and the longer his CV the better and more helpful a colleague he is likely to be.

Thus spoke the Sage of the Superstitions.

Two Cures for Envy

Envy 1To feel envy is to feel diminished in one's sense of self-worth by the positive attributes or success or well-being of another.  It is in a certain sense the opposite of Schadenfreude.  The envier is pained by another's success or well-being, sometimes to the extent of wanting to destroy what the other has.  The 'schadenfreudian,' to coin a word, is pleasured by another's failure or ill-being.

Envy is classified as one of the  Seven Deadly Sins, and rightly so.  Much of the mindless rage against Jews and Israel is the product of envy. Superiority almost always excites envy in those who, for whatever reason, and in whichever respect, are inferior.

This is why it is inadvisable to flaunt one's superiority and a good idea to keep it hidden in most situations.  Don't wear a Rolex in public, wear a Timex.  It is better to appear to be an average schmuck than a man of means. In some circumstances it is better to hide one's light under a bushel.

If greed is the vice of the capitalist, envy is the vice of the socialist.  This is not to say that greed is a necessary product of capitalism or that envy is a necessary product of socialism.  There was greed long before there was capitalism and envy long before there was socialism.

One cure for envy is moderate, the other radical.  I recommend the moderate cure. 

Consider the entire life of the person you envy, not just the possession or attribute or success that excites your envy.  You say you want  what he or she has?  Well, do you want everything that comes with it and led up to it, the hard work, the trials and tribulations, the doubts and despairs and disappointments and disasters?  Unless you are  morally corrupt, your envious feelings won't be able to survive a wide-angled view. 

The radical cure is to avoid all comparisons.  Comparison is a necessary condition of envy.  You can't envy me unless you compare yourself to me, noting what I have and am as compared to what you have and are.  So if you never compare yourself to anyone, you will never feel envy for anyone.

The radical cure ignores the fact that not all comparisons are odious, that some are salutary.  If I am your inferior in this respect or that, and I compare myself to you, I may come to appreciate where I fall short and what I could be if I were to emulate you.

That being said, "Comparisons are odious" remains a useful piece of folk wisdom. You can avoid a lot of unhappiness by appreciating what you have and not comparing yourself to others.

As for the bombshells at the top of the page, the blond is Jayne Mansfield and the other Sophia Loren.  The picture illustrates the fact that, typically, envy involves two persons, one envying the other in respect of some attribute. Jealousy, however involves three persons.  This why you shouldn't confuse envy with  jealousy.  This is jealousy, not envy:

Jealousy

Machiavelli, Arendt, and Virtues Private and Public

An important but troubling thought is conveyed in a recent NYT op-ed (emphasis added):

Machiavelli teaches that in a world where so many are not good, you must learn to be able to not be good. The virtues taught in our secular and religious schools are incompatible with the virtues one must practice to safeguard those same institutions. The power of the lion and the cleverness of the fox: These are the qualities a leader must harness to preserve the republic.

The problem as I see it is that (i) the pacific virtues the practice of which makes life worth living within families, between friends, and in such institutions of civil society as churches and fraternal organizations  are essentially private and cannot be extended outward as if we are all brothers and sisters belonging to a global community.  Talk of  global community is blather.  The institutions of civil society can survive and flourish only if protected by warriors and statesmen whose virtues are of the manly and martial, not of the womanish and pacific,  sort. And yet (ii) if no  extension of the pacific virtues is possible then humanity would seem to be doomed  in an age of terrorism and WMDs.  Besides, it is unsatisfactory that there be two moralities, one private, the other public.

Consider the Christian virtues preached by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.  They include humility, meekness, love of righteousness, mercy, purity of heart, love of peace and of reconciliation.  Everyone who must live uncloistered in the world understands that these pacific and essentially womanish virtues have but limited application there.  (I am not using 'womanish' as a derogatory qualifier.) You may love peace, but unless you are prepared to make war upon your enemies and show them no mercy, you may not be long for this world.  Turning the other cheek makes sense within a loving family, but no sense in the wider world.  (Would the Pope turn the other cheek if the Vatican came under attack by Muslim terrorists or would he call upon the armed might of the Italian state?)  This is perfectly obvious in the case of states: they are in the state (condition) of nature with respect to each other. Each state secures by blood and iron a civilized space within which art and music and science and scholarship can flourish and wherein, ideally, blood does not flow; but these states and their civilizations battle each other in the state (condition) of nature red in tooth and claw.

The Allies would not have been long for this world had they not been merciless in their treatment of the Axis Powers. 

This is also true of individuals once they move beyond their families and friends and genuine communities and sally forth into the wider world. 

The problem is well understood by Hannah Arendt ("Truth and Politics" in Between Past and Future, Penguin 1968, p. 245):

     The disastrous consequences for any community that began in all
     earnest to follow ethical precepts derived from man in the singular
     — be they Socratic or Platonic or Christian — have been
     frequently pointed out. Long before Machiavelli recommended
     protecting the political realm against the undiluted principles of
     the Christian faith (those who refuse to resist evil permit the
     wicked "to do as much evil as they please"), Aristotle warned
     against giving philosophers any say in political matters. (Men who
     for professional reasons must be so unconcerned with "what is good
     for themselves" cannot very well be trusted with what is good for
     others, and least of all with the "common good," the down-to-earth
     interests of the community.) [Arendt cites the Nicomachean Ethics,
     Book VI, and in particular 1140b9 and 1141b4.]

There is a tension  between man qua philosopher/Christian and man qua citizen.  As a philosopher raised in Christianity, I am concerned with my soul, with its integrity, purity, salvation. I take very seriously indeed the Socratic "Better to suffer wrong than to do it" and the Christian  "Resist not the evildoer." But as a citizen I must be concerned not only with my own well-being but also with the public welfare. This is true a fortiori of public officials and people in a position to  influence public opinion, people like Catholic bishops many of whom are woefully ignorant of the simple points Arendt makes in the passage quoted. So, as Arendt points out, the Socratic and Christian admonitions are not applicable in the public sphere.

What is applicable to me in the singular, as this existing individual concerned with the welfare of his immortal soul over that of his  perishable body, is not applicable to me as citizen. As a citizen, I   cannot "welcome the stranger" who violates the laws of my country, a stranger who may be a terrorist or a drug smuggler or a human trafficker or a carrier of a deadly disease or a person who has no respect for the traditions of the country he invades; I cannot aid and abet his law breaking. I must be concerned with public order.  This order is among  the very conditions that make the philosophical and Christian life possible in the first place. If I were to aid and abet the stranger's law breaking, I would not be "rendering unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's" as the New Testament enjoins us to do.

Indeed, the Caesar verse provides a scriptural basis for Church-State separation and indirectly exposes the fallacy of the Catholic bishops  and others who confuse private and public morality.

NYT op-ed

The Pope is a Buffoon When it Comes to Economics

Pope buffoonThere is too much buffoonery in high places.

It would be nice to be able to expect from popes and presidents a bit of gravitas, a modicum of seriousness, when they are instantiating their institutional roles.  What they do after hours is not our business.  So Pope Francis' clowning around does not inspire respect, any more than President Clinton's answering the question about his underwear.  Remember that one?  Boxers or briefs?  He answered the question!  All he had to do was calmly state, without mounting a high horse, "That is not a question that one asks the president of the United States."   And now we have the Orwellian Prevaricator himself in the White House, Barack Hussein Obama, whose latest Orwellian idiocy is that Big Government is the problem, not him, even though he is the the poster boy, the standard bearer, like unto no one before him in U. S. history, of Big Government!

But I digress.  Here are a couple of important points in rebuttal of Francis (emphasis added):

To begin, we note that “trickle-down” economics is a caricature used by capitalism’s critics and not its defenders. Those of us who embrace free markets do so not out of a belief that the breadcrumbs of affluence will eventually reach those less well-off, but, rather, out of a conviction that the free market is the best mechanism for increasing wealth at all levels. As for being confirmed by the facts, we believe the empirical evidence is conclusive. Compare the two sides of Germany during the era of the Berlin Wall or the China of today with the China that hadn’t yet embraced an (admittedly imperfect) form of capitalism. The results are not ambiguous.

To this I would add that it is a mistake to confuse material inequality with poverty.  Which is better: everyone being equal but poor, or inequality that makes 'the poor' better off than they would have been been without the inequality?  Clearly, the second. After all, there is nothing morally objectionable about inequality as such.  Or do you think that there is a problem with my net worth's being considerably less than Bill Gates'?  There is nothing wrong with inequality as such;  considerations of right and wrong kick in only when there is doubt about the legality or morality of the means by which the wealth was acquired.  My net worth exceeds that of a lot of people from a similar background, but that merely reflects the fact that I practice the old virtues of frugality, etc., avoid the vices that impoverish, and make good use of my talents.  I know how to save, invest, and defer gratification.  I know how to control my appetites.  The relative wealth that results puts me in a position to help other people,  by charitable giving,  by hiring them, and by paying taxes that fund welfare programs and 'entitlements.'  When is the last time a poor person gave someone a job, or made a charitable contribution?  And how much tax do they pay?  There are makers and takers, and you can't be a giver unless you are a maker, any more than you can be a taker if there are no givers.  So, far from inequality being the same as poverty or causing poverty, it lessens poverty, both by providing jobs and via charity, not to mention the 'entitlement' and welfare programs that are funded by taxes paid by the productive.

You don't like the fact that someone has more than you?  Then you are guilty of the sin of envy.  And I think that Francis is aware that envy is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.  Here is a question for socialists, redistributionists, collectivists, Obaminators: Is your redistributionism merely an expression of envy?  I am not claiming that envy is at the root of socialism.  That is no more the case than that greed (also on the list of Seven Deadlies) is at the root of capitalism.  But it is the case that some socialists are drawn to socialism because of their uncontrollable envy, a thoroughly destructive vice.

There’s a more fundamental misunderstanding at work here, however. When Francis talks about “economic power,” he misapprehends a fundamental aspect of free markets – they only provide power consensually. Apart from government, no one can force you to buy a product or purchase a service. There’s a similar error in his citation of Saint John Chrysostom’s aphorism: “Not to share one’s wealth with the poor is to steal from them and to take away their livelihood.” The economics of capitalism are not zero-sum. Trade only occurs when both sides are made better off by the transaction. The wealthy don’t get rich at the expense of the poor.

Lefties hate business and especially big corporations.  I give the latter  no pass if they do wrong or violate reasonable regulations.  But has Apple or Microsoft ever incarcerated anyone, or put anyone to death, or started a shooting war, or forced anyone to buy anything or to violate his conscience as the Obama administration is doing via its signature abomination, Obamacare?

On the other hand, did the government provide me with the iPad Air I just bought?  You didn't build that, Obama!  Not you, not your government, not any government.  High tech does not come from politicians or lawyers, two classes that are nearly the same — yet another problem to be addressed in due course.

 Be intellectually honest, you lefties.  Don't turn a blind eye to the depredations of Big Government while excoriating (sometimes legitimately) those of Big Business.

Why Would Obama Say He is not Ideological?

Ed Rogers speculates:

The president’s belief that little of what he does is ideologically driven suggests he is living with a pampered, unchallenged mind. He has been told he is so smart for so long that he sees only clarity in his actions and unchallengeable reason in his conclusions. The president’s belief in his own intellect makes him think that whatever he does is simply the only thing a thinking person would do. Nothing ideological about that.

Roger's reading is possible, but not likely.  I incline to  a darker view.  Obama knows that he is a leftist and that leftism is not the only option.  He knows that there are sincere, highly intelligent, principled people who oppose the leftist agenda with an impressive armamentarium of facts and arguments.   Although Obama hangs with his sycophantic own for the most part, he cannot not know about the black conservative Thomas Sowell, for example, and his views.  And given how smart Obama is supposed to be, he will have discerned that Sowell and other black conservatives cannot be dismissed as Uncle Toms.

When Obama said that he is not ideological he was simply lying.  He was stating something he knows to be false with the intent to deceive.

It is right in line with what he said last month:

As soon as I took office, I asked this Congress to send me a recovery plan by President's Day that would put people back to work and put money in their pockets. Not because I believe in bigger government — I don't.

In this example, Obama's mendacity enters the Orwellian.  Opposing bigger government, he is for smaller government.  Bigger government is smaller government. 

The truth is that the man is thoroughly untruthful.  Why does he so brazenly lie, bullshit, prevaricate?  Because he believes that there is nothing wrong with mendacity in the service of a noble cause.  I don't think the man is simply out for his own wealth and power: he sincerely believes in the leftist agenda and that the glorious end justifies and requires the mendacious means.

For this reason he never comes clean about his real goals and values.

If you think about it this way, it all makes sense.  He had to lie again and again about the content of the ACA.  Otherwise it would not have passed.  He knows best what is good for us, and his lies are for our own good.

Promise or Lie? Falsehood or Half-Truth?

Some pundits and journalists keep referring to Obama's signature "If you like it, you can keep it, period" as a promise.*  This is an incoherent  use of 'promise.'

Suppose  a loan originator hands you a mortgage contract and says, "I promise you that this loan is not callable." (A callable loan is one in which the lender reserves the right to demand payment in full, plus interest, at any time.)  If you are not stupid you will point out that this is not a question of the making and keeping of promises, but only one of the actual and explicit content of the contract.  You will demand to see where in the contract it is stated that the loan is not callable.  If the loan officer cannot locate the passage, or you find words to the effect that the loan is callable, then you know that the loan officer is lying about the content of the mortgage contract.  At this point you might say to the officer, ironically, "I see you broke your promise, or perhaps it was a false promise from the start."

The point ought to be obvious and equally obvious its relevance to Obama's signature lie.  One cannot promise what a document will contain given that there is an easily ascertainable fact as to what it does contain.  Obamacare was a bill before it became law, but either way it has a definite content. It is not for Obama to promise what is in the ACA but to report truthfully as to what the definite content is.

Coherent:  "I promise to sign the bill." "I promise to have a bill written that will provide that anyone who wants to keep his plan or doctor can do so." 

Incoherent:  "I promise that I was once an adjunct professor of  law."  "I promise that the ACA provides that anyone who wants to keep his plan can do so, period."  "I promise that if you read the bill, you will see that it does so provide."

If you insist that our  POMO POTUS made a promise with his signature avowal, will you say that he broke his promise or that he made an insincere promise from the start?  Either way you don't understand the concept of promising.

Another mistake that some journalists make is to  describe the Obama lie as a half truth.  Not so.  A statement that is false cannot be half-true.  Compare

1. All of you who like your plan can keep your plan, period.

2. Most of you who like your plan can keep your plan, period.

(1) is false and (2) is true.  (1) is not rendered half-true or partially true due to the presence of the universal quantifier or the fact that (1) entails (2).

 'All politcians lie' entails 'Some politicians lie.'  The latter is true; the former false, not half-true.  Note finally that 'wholly true' is pleonastic.

_________________

* For example, "President Barack Obama’s “if you like it, you can keep it” promise has House Democrats facing a dilemma as they look ahead to a vote on Republican legislation to preserve existing health plans."

For a Lie to be a Lie, Must There be an Intention to Deceive?

Tully Borland writes,

You host my favorite blog on the internet.  I can’t believe I didn’t find out about it until just a few months ago.  May you blog forever.

Here’s a counterexample to your latest definition which still includes an “intention to deceive”, i.e. here is a case of a lie where there is no intention to deceive:

Larry is on trial for felonious assault (he punched his grandma in the face repeatedly because she turned the channel when Chris Matthews came on).  His whole family was there.  There was blood found on him when the cops arrived that was his grandma’s, and there was no blood found on anyone else.  His grandma and his own mother testify in court against him, weeping because Larry has been such a disappointment.  There is no evidence presented for the side that he did not do it.  His lawyer has presented absolutely no evidence in his favor.  EVERYONE in the courtroom knows that he did it.  Moreover (and more importantly), he KNOWS that they know that he did it (the jurors repeatedly shake their heads in disgust every time he looks at them).

But Larry is corrupt to the core, lacking any remorse.  In the sentencing phase, as a last act in defiance of his family, the court, and his hometown, he coldly looks the jurors square in the eyes and says, “I did not do it.”

Liar! 

Very interesting case. It puts me in mind of O. J. Simpson and Bill Clinton.  When Clinton told his famous lie, (almost) everybody knew he was lying, and Bubba knew that (almost) everybody knew he was lying. So when he made his false statement ("I did not have sex with that woman") he knew that hardly anyone would be deceived by what he said.  I think Borland would say about this actual case what he said about his hypothetical one, namely, that the agent lied shamelessly but without any intention to deceive.  If so, then any definition of lying that includes as a necessary condition the intention to deceive is mistaken.

There are at least thee ways of responding to this putative counterexample.

A.  Run the argument in reverse.  Borland's argument is that Larry lied but had no intention to deceive his audience; therefore, an intention to deceive is not a necessary condition of a statement's being a lie.  But the argument can be run in reverse with no breach of logical propriety:  An intention to deceive is a necessary condition of a statement's being a lie; Larry had no intention to deceive; ergo, Larry did not lie.

Or as we say in the trade, "One man's modus ponens is another man's modus tollens."

On this approach, Tully's example is not a counterexample to my definition but merely an illustration of a phenomenon like lying but distinct from it.

B.  A second approach is to question Tully's assumption that there is no intention to deceive where there is no possibility of deception.  Is the belief that it is possible for me to deceive you a necessary condition of my intending to deceive you? Or can I intend to deceive you while knowing that it is not possible to deceive you?

It seems to me that, necessarily, if an an agent A intends to do X, then A believes that it is possible for A to do X.   The following, though not narrowly-logically contradictory, strikes me as broadly-logically contradictory:  I fully intend to complete the 2014 Lost Dutchman marathon in under three hours but I know that  this is impossible for me.

Therefore, necessarily, if a person intends to deceive his audience about his or that , then he believes that it is possible for him to deceive his audience about this or that.

The (B) response to Borland's putative counterexample, therefore, does not look promising.

C.  On a third approach we abandon the attempt to capture in a definition the essence of lying.  We treat lying as a family-resemblance concept in roughly Wittgenstein's sense.  Accordingly, there is no one essence specifiable by the laying down of necessary and sufficient conditions that all and only lies have in common. 

Or perhaps I should put the point like this.  There are correct uses of 'lie' and cognates in English and incorrect uses.  But there is no one univocal sense shared by all the correct uses.  So if a person uses 'lie' interchangeably with 'false statement,' then he uses 'lie' incorrectly.  But a use of 'lie' that does not involve the intention to deceive is correct  as well as a use that does involve the intention to deceive.  And there is a correct use that requires that a lie be a false statement and a correct use that allows a lie to be a true statement.

But I should think that the paradigm cases of lying all involve the intention to deceive and the notion that a lie is a false statement and not merely a statement believed to be false by its producer.

 I think the best response to Tully's counterexample is (C).  What he has shown is that there is a correct use of 'lie' in situations in which there is no intention to deceive, and no deception either.  But this use of 'lie' is non-paradigmatic and peripheral to the main way 'lie' is used in English which (dare I say it?) is my way.

More on Lying

Chad McIntosh e-mails:

Here are some thoughts on your recent post on lying. You offer the following definition:

A lie is a false statement made with the intention to deceive.

I wonder if more should be said about what counts as a statement. You leave open the possibility that there are other ways of tokening statement-types than uttering them when you say a statement type isn’t a lie until someone “utters or otherwise tokens the type.” Do you have in mind other ways to token statements that aren’t utterances?

BV:  Well, there are written statements in addition to spoken statements.  A written statement is not an utterance but it tokens a statement type.  Obama has been caught numerous times lying via speech acts about the content of the PPACA.  But suppose he publishes a written statement that includes the sentence, "After the PPACA passes, you will be able to keep your health plan and your doctor if you so desire."  That sentence is a token of a statement type.  It too would be a lie.  Every lie is a statement, i.e., a stating, but not every statement is a spoken statement.

If so, we need to see if they, too, count as lies on your proposal (i.e., are there forms of deception that token statements without uttering them?). If a businessman leaves his home porch light on as he leaves for vacation, is he tokening the statement “someone is home”? Or does a football player token the statement “I’m going right” when he jukes right but goes left? If so, we have false statements being made with the intention to deceive. But it would be counterintuitive to say the business man and the football player here are lying.

BV: The question Chad is raising now is whether a statement type can be tokened by a non-sentential entity.  Can one make a statement without speaking or writing or displaying (as on a sign) a declarative sentence?  I would say no.  A statement type is a linguistic entity the tokens of which must themselves be linguistic entities.  The statement type *Obama is a liar* is tokened by my stating that he is a liar, i.e., by my assertive utterance of the sentence 'Obama is a liar.' But it can also be tokened by my writing the sentence, 'Obama is a liar.'

Note that not every utterance of a sentence is an assertive utterance.  I might utter the sentence 'Obama is a liar' in oratio obliqua, or in a language class to illustrate a sentence in the indicative mood.  And the same holds for writing a sentence.  If you ask me for an example of an English sentence, I might write on the black board, 'Obama is a liar.'  But I haven't thereby made a statement.

Or here’s a possible counterexample that avoids the non-utterance category. Suppose the CIA discovers that Al-Qaida has tapped the phone line on which the president’s whereabouts are discussed in an effort to plan an attack on his life. Knowing this, a CIA agent says over the line, knowing the terrorists are listening, that the president will be at the Washington Memorial at 4pm, when in fact he will be safe at camp David at that time. Has the CIA agent lied to the terrorists? It doesn’t seem to me that he has; not just because the deception here is not wrong, but because it just doesn’t seem like a lie period.

BV: This is an interesting example that Chad intends as a counterexample to my above definition.  I utter a sentence that I know to be false with the intention of deceiving any terrorists who might be listening, without knowing whether any terrorists are listening.  According to Chad, I have made a false statement with the intention to deceive, but I have not lied.  Chad's point, I take it, is that a lie necessarily involves an interpersonal transaction in which the maker of the false statement knows that the adressee is in receipt of it.  If that is Chad's point, then I can accommodate it by modifying my definition:

A lie is a false statement made by a person P and addressed to another person Q or a group of other persons Q1, Q2, . . . Qn, Qn+1, . . .  such that (i) Q or some of the Qs are in receipt of  P's statement and are known by P to be in receipt of it, and (ii) P's statement is made with the intention to deceive Q or some of the Qs.

But I should say that I do think all lies are morally blameworthy. I see here a distinction similar to that between murder and killing. All murder is morally blameworthy and also killing, but not all killing is murder. Similarly, all lies are morally blameworthy and deceptive, but not all deceptions are lies. So I’m inclined to see your definition as capturing only a necessary condition of lies. I have some ideas about what sufficient conditions are needed to get a better definition, but I’ve said enough for now. What do you think?

BV: Murder, by definition, is wrongful killing, whereas killings (of human beings) are some of them morally permissible, some of them morally impermissible, and some of them — I would argue — moral obligatory.  It seems that Chad wants to pack moral wrongness into the concept of lying, so that the following is an analytic proposition: *Lying is wrongful intentional deception.*  That would give him a reason to deny that the terrorist example is an example of lying.  For while there is deception, and it is intentional, it is not wrongful intentional deception.

Suppose the SS are at my door looking for Jews.  I state falsely that there are no Jews in my house.  On Chad's analysis I have not lied because my action is morally praiseworthy, or at least not morally wrong.  On my view, I have lied, but my lie is morally justifiable.  But then moral wrongness cannot be packed into the concept of lying.  I agree that lying, in most cases, is wrong.  But I don't see the connection between lying and wrongness as analytic.

Suppose once again that the SS are at my door looking for Jews.  I state what I believe to be false, namely, that there are no Jews present.  But it turns out that, unbeknownst to me, what I state is true.  So I make a true statement with the intention to deceive.  Monokroussos in an earlier thread took this to show that a lie need not be a false statement.  What's necessary is only that the statement be believed to be false by its utterer.  I wonder what Chad would say about this case. 

Annoying Habits of Some Philosophers

Herewith, a partial catalog of some habits that I at least find annoying.  

1. Calling an opposing view with an impressive pedigree a 'mistake' as if the opposing view can be simply dismissed as resting on some elementary blunder.  Here is an example by a distinguished contemporary:

. . . it is possible to distinguish between the being and the nature of a thing — any thing; anything — and that the thick conception of being is founded on the mistake of transferring what belongs properly to the nature of a chair — or of a human being or of a universal or of God — to the being of the chair. To endorse the thick conception of being is, in fact, to make . . . the very mistake of which Kant accused Descartes: the mistake of treating being as a ‘real predicate.’ (Peter van Inwagen, Ontology, Identity, and Modality, Cambridge 2001, pp. 3-4, emphasis added.)

What van Inwagen is saying here is that the conception of being represented by such luminaries as Thomas Aquinas and all the lesser lights of the Thomist tradition is a mistake because it rests on a mistake.  Now it would indeed be a mistake to "transfer what properly belongs to the nature of" an F to the being of the F-item.  But that is not what the thick conception does.  So if anyone is making a mistake here, it is van Inwagen.

That the thick conception of being does not rest on anything that could be called a mistake is argued by me in "Existence: Two Dogmas of Analysis," in Neo-Aristotelian Perspectives in Metaphysics, Routledge, 2014, pp. 45-75.  

2. Attempting to refute by fallacy-mongering.  This is a perennial favorite of cyberpunks.  Having swotted up a list of informal fallacies, they are eager to find 'fallacies' in their opponents' reasoning.  Cyberpunks are beneath refutation, so I'll cite as example  A. C.  Grayling's ham-handed attempt to pin the fallacy of petitio principii on Plantinga.  See Sensus Divinitatis: Nagel Defends Plantinga Against Grayling.

3. Dismissing seriously posed questions as 'rhetorical.'  Example.  Thomists take a hylomorphic approach to the mind.  Roughly, they maintain that anima forma corporis: the soul is the form of the body. I am not my soul, as on Platonism: I am a composite of soul and body, substantial form and proximate matter.  But they also believe that the soul can exist in a disembodied state post mortem.  There is a tension here inasmuch as form and matter are incomplete items, 'principles' uncovered in the analysis of complete items, primary substances.  But if souls, as forms, are incomplete items, how can they exist when apart from matter?

Now consider that question.  Is it rhetorical? No.  It is a genuine question and a reasonable one which may or may not have a good Thomist answer.  To dismiss such a sincerely intended and reasonably motivated question as rhetorical is not a legitimate philosophical move.  It is a way of disrespecting one's interlocutor by dismissing his concerns. 

4. Using 'surely' as a device of bluster. Little is sure in philosophy, hence uses of 'surely' border on bluster.  "Don't call me 'Shirley'" is a way of combatting this bad habit, one to which I have been known to succumb.  I may have picked up the habit from Plantinga's writing.

"Surely, there is a property expressed by the predicate 'is Socrates,' the property, identity-with-Socrates." (This is not a quotation from Plantinga.)  Shirley?  Where's Shirley?

Just as one ought to avoid the cheap dismissals illustrated in #s 1-3, one ought to avoid the cheap avowal illustrated in #4.

5. Advertising one's political correctness.  I am reading an article on some arcane topic such as counterfactual conditionals, when I encounter a ungrammatical use of 'they' to avoid the supposedly radioactive 'he.'  I groan: not another PC-whipped leftist!  I am distracted from the content of the article by the political correctness of the author. As I have said more than once, PC comes from the CP, and what commies, and leftists generally, attempt to do is to inject politics into every aspect of life.  It is in keeping with their totalitarian agenda. 

If you complain that I am injecting politics into this post, I will say that I am merely combatting and undoing the mischief of leftists.  It is analogous to nonviolent people using violence to defend themselves and their way of life against the violent.  We conservatives who want the political kept in its place and who are temperamentally disinclined to be political activists must be become somewhat politically active to undo the the damage caused by leftist totalitarians.  By the way, there is nothing sexist about standard English; the view that it is is itself a leftist doctrine that one is free to reject.

6. Responding by repeating.  If I raise a question as to the intelligibility of, say, the Chalcedonian definition, then it is no decent response merely to repeat the definition.   Otherwise I become annoyed.  And we don't want that.

7. Excessive use of 'of course.'  I am guilty of this.  It is like 'surely': more often than not a device of bluster in philosophy.

8.  Feigning incomprehension.  Saying, 'I don't know what you are talking about,' when you have a tolerably clear idea of what I am talking about.  This may be the same as Petering Out.

What is offensive here is the dismissal of an idea or an entire philosophy because it is not totally clear, when it ought to be one purpose of philosophical dialog to clarify what is not totally clear.  You say you have no idea what Emmanuel Levinas is driving at in Totality and Infinity?  Then I say you must be one stupid fellow or uneducated or both.  Same with Heidegger and Hegel, et al.  You say you don't know what Hegel is talking about what he says, at the beginning of his Science of Logic, that Being passes over into Nothing?  No idea at all?  Then you are dumb or inattentive or lazy or a philistine or something else it would not be good to be. 

Don't feign incomprehension.  If you find what I maintain unclear, explain why you think it unclear, and then ask for clarification. In that way, we may make a bit of progress.

9. Taking the names of great philosophers in vain.  If you are historically ignorant, don't attach the names of  great philosophers to your pet theses.  Don't use 'Leibniz's Law' for something that cannot be found in Leibniz.  See 'Leibniz's Law': A Useless Expression.  Don't call 'Aristotelian' the view that there are immanent universals.  If you have never read Brentano or Meinong, why are you dropping their names in your labels for theses that are not theirs?

10. Confusing philosophy with the history of philosophy.  Kant says it best in the second paragraph of the Introduction to his Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics (LLA ed. p. 3):

There are scholarly men, to whom the history of philosophy (both ancient and modern) is philosophy itself; for these the present Prolegomena are not written. They must wait till those who endeavor to draw from the fountain of reason itself have completed their work; it will then be the historian's turn to inform the world of what has been done. Unfortunately, nothing can be said, which in their opinion has not been said before, and truly the same prophecy applies to all future time; for since the human reason has for many centuries speculated upon innumerable objects in various ways, it is hardly to be expected that we should not be able to discover analogies for every new idea among the old sayings of past ages.

11. Criticizing a philosopher for thinking for himself and not discussing one's favorite historical figure. 

It must have been in the early '80s.  A paper of mine on haecceities had been accepted for reading at a regular colloquium session of the A. P. A., Eastern Division.  The paper focused on Alvin Plantinga's theory of haecceity properties.  Although I had a good job, I was looking for something better and I had also secured an interview with Penn State at that same APA convention.  The late Joseph J. Kockelmans was one of the members of the Penn State philosophy department who interviewed me.  When he heard that the paper I was to read dealt with haecceities, he asked whether I would be discussing Duns Scotus.  I of course explained that there would be no time for that since I had twenty minutes and my paper dealt with ideas of Plantinga.  Kockelman's question displayed the typical bias of the Historical/Continental type of  scholar.  Such a person cannot understand how one might directly engage a contemporary question without dragging in the opinions of long dead thinkers.  They cannot understand how one could think for oneself, or how philosophy could be anything other than its history or the genuflecting before texts or the worshipping at the shrine of Heidegger, say.  

And then there was a colleague I once had.  He was a Leibniz man.  Interested as I am in metaphysics, I once brought up the Identity of Indiscernibles with him.  I asked him whether he accepted it.  His reply was of the form: in one place Leibniz says this, and in another place he says that, and according to commentator X . . . " But what do YOU think of the principle, Dan?"  Well, in the Discourse onMetaphysics Leibniz takes the view that . . . .  And so it went.  He was a scholar of philosophy, but no philosopher.
 
Examples are easily multiplied. 

12. Compiling lists such as this one.  This doesn't annoy me, but it might annoy you.

Temptation

A striking one or two sentence formulation taken from a wider context is not an aphorism, strictly speaking.  But I'm in a loose and liberal mood.  So I present for your consideration and delectation the following sentence from Paul Ludwig Landsberg (1901-1944).  It is from his essay "The Moral Problem of Suicide," translated from the French by Cynthia Rowland and bound together with "The Experience of Death" in a volume entitled The Experience of Death (Arno Press, New York, 1977).  The sentence occurs on p. 69.

Temptation is an experience of the difference between the vertigo of power and the decision of duty.