Is Speech Violence? Culture War 1.0 and Culture War 2.0

Peter Boghossian:

The rules of engagement relate to how we deal with our disagreements. In Culture War 1.0, if an evolutionary biologist gave a public lecture about the age of the Earth based on geological dating techniques, creationist detractors would issue a response, insist that such dating techniques are biased, challenge him to a debate, and ask pointed—if unfairly loaded—questions during the Q&A session.

In Culture War 2.0, disagreements with a speaker are sometimes met with attempts at de-platforming: rowdy campaigns for the invitation to be rescinded before the speech can be delivered. If this is unsuccessful, critics may resort to disrupting the speaker by screaming and shouting, engaging noise makers, pulling the fire alarm, or ripping out the speaker wires. The goal is not to counter the speaker with better arguments or even to insist on an alternative view, but to prevent the speaker from airing her views at all.

Today’s left-wing culture warriors are not roused to action only by speakers whose views run afoul of the new moral orthodoxy. They combat “problematic” ideas anywhere they’re found, including peer-reviewed academic journals. In 2017, Portland State University Political Science Professor Bruce Gilley published a peer-reviewed article titled “The Case for Colonialism” in Third World Quarterly. Many academicians were enraged, but rather than write a rebuttal or challenge Gilley to a public debate (as they might have done in the era of Culture War 1.0), they circulated a popular petition demanding that Portland State rescind his tenure, fire him, and even take away his Ph.D. “The Case for Colonialism” was eventually withdrawn after the journal editor “received serious and credible threats of personal violence.”

Christian organizations have a long history of censorship, and this has continued to some extent even in recent decades. All the same, such an attempt to suppress an academic article would have been almost unthinkable during Culture War 1.0. There were some analogous attempts on the part of Christians during precursors of this culture war, as for example in the incidents surrounding Tennessee’s Butler Act of 1925 and the subsequent “Scopes Monkey Trial.” And religious would-be censors during Culture War 1.0 did occasionally make attempts on novels and movies interpreted as blasphemous or obscene, such as The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). But for the most part, Creationists in the first Culture War didn’t want evolutionary biologists to lose their tenure and their doctorates. They wanted to debate and prove them wrong.

One common theme running throughout Culture War 2.0 is the idea, endorsed by many well-meaning activists, that speech is violence. And if speech is violence, the thinking goes, then we must combat speech with the same vigor we use to combat physical violence. This entails that we cannot engage supposedly violent speech, sometimes referred to indiscriminately as “hate speech,” merely with words. If someone is being punched in the face, it’s futile to say, “Would you kindly stop?” or “This is not an ethical way to behave.” You need to take action. The rules of engagement change if speech cannot be met with speech—with written rebuttals, debates, and Q&A sessions. If speech is violence, it must either be prevented or stopped with something beyond speech, such as punching Nazis, throwing milkshakes, or using institutional mechanisms to smother unwanted discourse.

Is Speech Violence?

As the nursery rhyme goes,

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words can never hurt me.

No speech is physically violent, and so the first thing that ought to be said is that unwanted speech, offensive speech, dissenting speech, contrarian speech, polemical speech, and the like including so-called 'hate speech,' ought not be met by physical violence.  There are exceptions, but in general, speech is to be countered, if it is countered and not ignored,  by speech, not physical assaults on persons or property private or public.  The speech may be sweet and reasonable or ugly and combative.

Here is an exception. Some speech is of course psychologically violent and psychologically damaging to some of those who are its recipients. The young, the impressionable, and the sensitive can be harmed, and in instances terribly, by psychologically violent speech.  Suppose one parent is verbally abusing a sensitive child in a psychological damaging way. ("You worthless piece of shit, can't you do anything right? I wish you were never born!") The other parent would be justified in using physical violence to stop the verbal abuse.

A second exception. Blasphemers invade a church service.  It would be morally permissible to force them to leave by physical means.   A third exception. Protestors block a major traffic artery. The police would be justified in using physical force to remove the law breakers.  In this case it is not the speech that is being countered by physical violence but the protestors' illegal action of blocking the artery.

But in general, no speech may be legitimately countered with physical violence to the person or property of the speaker.  Speech is not a form of physical violence and may not be countered by physical violence.

That's one point. A second is that we of the Coalition of the Sane are justified is using physical violence against those who try to shut down our dissent by physical means if the authorities abdicate.  This is why Second Amendment rights are so very important.

Finally, as I have said many times, dissent is not hate to those who can think straight and are morally sane.

Could it be Reasonable to Affirm the Infirmity of Reason?

Any reasons one adduces in support of the thesis of  the infirmity of reason will share in the weakness of the faculty whose weakness is being affirmed.  Is this a problem for the proponent of the thesis? Does he contradict himself? Not obviously: he might simply accept the conclusion that the reasoning in support of the thesis is inconclusive.

Suppose I argue that, with respect to all substantive philosophical theses, there there are good arguments  pro and good arguments contra, and that these arguments 'cancel out.'  Now my thesis is substantive, and so my thesis applies to itself, whence it follows that my meta-thesis has both good arguments for it and good arguments against it, and that they cancel out.

Where is the problem? I am simply applying my meta-philosophical skepticism to itself, as I must if I am to be logically consistent.  Now I could make an exception for my meta-thesis, but that, I think, would be intolerably ad hoc.

I am not dogmatically affirming the infirmity of reason; I am merely stating that there are reasons to accept it, reasons that are not conclusive.

Deeper into this topic:

Seriously Philosophical Theses and Argument Cancellation

Thought, Action, Dogma, and De Maistre: The Infirmity of Reason

The Deep Thinker

Elias Canetti, The Agony of Flies: Notes and Notations (Die Fliegenpein: Aufzeichnungen), Noonday 1994, tr. H. F. Broch de Rothermann, bilingual ed., p. 25:

His thoughts have fins instead of wings.

It flows better in German:

Sein Denken hat Flossen statt Flügel.

The title is my creation.

Many of Canetti's notations express insights; others, however striking, are exercises in literary self-indulgence, not that there is anything wrong with that.

Here are some good ones:

No code is secret enough to allow for the expression of complete candor. (5)

He will never be a thinker: he doesn't repeat himself enough. (13)

He desires the existence of the people he loves, but not their presence and their preoccupations. (15)

He wishes for moments that burn as long as match. (15)

I read that as a protest against time's fugacity.

He is as smart as a newspaper; he knows everything and what he knows changes from day to day. (19)

Even the great philosopher benefits from exaggeration, but with him she must wear a tightly woven garment of reason. The poet, on the other hand, exposes her in all her shimmering nudity. (19)

It's easy to be reasonable when you don't love anyone, including yourself. (21)

On fair days he feels too sure of his own life. (23)

That resonates with me.  But it is not an aphorism if an aphorism must present a universal truth.  This is an aphorism: On fair days one feels too sure of one's own life.  But this is the philosopher talking with his zeal to transcend the particular toward the universal. The poet is more at home, or entirely at home,  with the particular. There is an advantage to Canetti's formulation: it cannot be contradicted. He is reporting the feeling of a particular man, presumably himself.  The corresponding aphorism invites counterexamples.

God does not like us to draw lessons from recent history. (23)

I surmise that the thought driving the aphorism is that the horrors of the 20th century make theistic belief psychologically impossible. Who can believe in God after Auschwitz?

Related: Susan Sontag on the Art of the Aphorism 

Addendum.  Contrast

On fair days he feels too sure of his own life

with 

He whose days are fair feels too sure of his own life.

'He' in the second sentence functions as a universal quantifier, not as a pronoun.  Pronouns have antecedents: the 'he' in the second sentence has no antecedent.  Nor does it need one. The 'he' in the first sentence, however, could be called a dangling pronoun: its antecedent is tacit, and is presumably 'Canetti.'  If this is right, the two sentences express different thoughts and are not intersubstitutable salva veritate.  

I rather doubt that Canetti would approve of this analysis. Too philosophical.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Varia

Bob Dylan, Cold Irons Bound. When your name is 'Bob Dylan' you have your pick of sidemen. A great band. "The walls of pride, they're high and they're wide. You can't see over, to the other side."

Joe Brown, Sea of  Heartbreak.  Nothing touches Don Gibson's original effort, but this is very satisfying version.

Elvis Presley, Little Sister 

Carole King, You've Got a Friend

Buddy Guy, et al., Sweet Home Chicago. Looks like everyone is playing a Strat except for Johnny Winter.

Ry Cooder, He'll Have to Go.  A fine, if quirky, cover of the old George Reeves hit from 1959.

Marty Robbins, El Paso. Great guitar work.

Why the Right-Left Divide is Unbridgeable: Three Reasons

One reason is that we differ over values.  That's bad. Worse still is that we differ over what is true and what is false.  Disagreements about values and norms are troubling but not surprising, but nowadays we can't even agree on what the facts are. Worst of all is that we differ over what truth is and whether there are any truths.  The point about values is obvious. I won't say more about it on this occasion. Here are some examples of how we differ over what is true and what is false:

The left believes the president colluded with Russia to win the 2016 election. The reality is that there was no collusion. This is the conclusion of the Mueller report, but still, the left doesn’t accept it.

The left is certain President Trump said the neo-Nazis are “very fine people” when referring to the protesters in Charlottesville, Virginia. The right is certain the president didn’t say there are good neo-Nazis any more than he said there are good “antifa” members. When he said there were “very fine people on both sides,” he was referring to those demonstrating on behalf of keeping Confederate statues and those opposed. See “The Charlottesville Lie” by CNN analyst Steve Cortes.

The left believes socialism is economically superior to capitalism. But the reality is that only capitalism has lifted billions of people out of poverty.

These examples are from Dennis Prager. I will now go Prager one better: we don't just disagree about what is true and false; we disagree about whether there is truth is the first place.  

The Left is culturally Marxist, and part of that line is that there is no objective truth.  What there are are perspectives and power relations. 'True' is whatever perspective  enhances the power of some tribe. Thus the abominations 'our truth' and 'my truth.' 

We are obviously in deep trouble and it is not clear how to avoid disaster.   Hot civil war would be a disaster. But we conservatives are not about to accept dhimmitude. Secession is unworkable. We need to find the political equivalent of divorce. But how to work this out in detail is above my pay grade.  And yours too.

The consolations of philosophy, and of old age, are many.

‘For’ and ‘Because’: A Linguistic Bagatelle

My sense of the English language tells me that (1) below, but not (2), is good English.

1) On presentism, what no longer exists, does not exist at all. For on presentism, only the present exists.

2) On presentism, what no longer exists, does not exist at all. Because on presentism, only the present exists.

As I see it, (1) is good English because 'for' in a context like this means 'it is because.'

The Romantic Fool

It has been my experience that the folly of the romantic fool  has an expiration date — at least with respect to any given object of his folly, if not with respect to his propensity to make a fool of himself in matters amorous.  The wayward heart is fickle. The older and wiser see the need for the custody of the heart, but to attain the insight is one thing, to play the custodian another.  Popular music testifies eloquently to the problem. 

Fools rush in, where wise men never go;
But wise men never fall in love;
So how are they to know?

Wise men say
Only fools rush in;
But I can't help
Falling in love with you.

On a Roll

America is on a roll with Trump in control, and I'm on a roll on my Facebook page beating lefties into the dirt.  All of my posts are public, so you should be able to read them if you have a FB account. To comment, though, you will have to send me a 'Friend ' request.  Hard experience has taught me that discussions with 'liberals' are a waste of time, such is their level of insolent ignorance and willful self-enstupidation; so no 'liberals' need apply.

Some Questions About Divine Simplicity

This recently over the transom:
 
Dear Dr. Vallicella, I'm a reader of your blog, and have really enjoyed much of your work. Since you wrote the Stanford Encyclopedia article on the topic of divine simplicity, I thought I might reach out to you to ask your opinions on some things. I am on an e-mail list with a Christian philosopher who is extremely critical toward the idea and I'd like to know what you think of the following:
 
First, he argues that, while there are some rationally acceptable arguments for divine simplicity, they do not rise to the level of demonstration. Based on some of your recent work, I gather you might agree with this.
 
BV: I do agree.  The doctrine cannot be demonstrated or proven. There are 'good' (rationally acceptable) arguments for the doctrine of divine simplicity (DDS), but they are not rationally compelling. To my mind this is but a special case of a general thesis: few if any substantive theses in philosophy are demonstrable or provable.
 
It's the second part I'm curious about. Further to his argument is that divine simplicity rests on questionable metaphysical premises, and that many are far too confident in the position given their familiarity with metaphysics. He is exceptionally critical of James Dolezal, saying that consulting him on the topic "is like going to a bike shop to get your car repaired." He believes that, for one to really understand and engage with the ideas, academic training and great philosophical experience is required (which Dolezal may not possess, not having earned his Ph.D. under recognized philosophers). Since you cite Dolezal multiple times in your article, I assume you would disagree with this at least on some level. While I only have undergraduate philosophical training, I am familiar with the debates on the subject, and the metaphysics involved, to have at least some rational justification for my opinions. (The big exception is questions of simplicity and modal logic—I back off when things go into that territory). So, my actual questions: what level of philosophical training (especially official) is necessary to engage in these debates? And is his evaluation of Dolezal in particular correct?
 
BV: Dolezal is competent, and your friend's 'bike shop' comment does nothing to show otherwise.  You don't really need any 'training' other than what you can provide for yourself by careful study of the literature on the topic, assuming you are above average in intelligence and have a strong desire to penetrate the problem. I don't set much store by training and trappings and academic pedigrees. What matters in philosophy is love of truth, intense devotion to her service, intellectual honesty, and the willingness to follow the arguments whither they lead.
 
Second, he has a criticism of simplicity I haven't seen anywhere else. I'll have to summarize it as the paper has not been published.
 
It goes like this: a key premise in the argument for simplicity is that whatever has parts depends on those parts, and so must be composed by something else. God is not dependent/composed by anything else, therefore he must be simple. He questions this idea and puts forward an "individuals first"  account, suggesting that parts are in some cases only definable by the wholes of which they are parts, thus actually making the parts dependent on the whole. He provides two possible examples: the notions of necessity and possibility, which are dependent on each other for their definitions; and the doctrine of the Trinity, where Father, Son, and Spirit are exclusively defined in terms of relations among them. This suggests, he argues, that we can conceive of wholes that have parts, the parts all being mutually dependent upon one another and thus not composed by anything else. And so, God might have parts while not being composed by anything else.
 
What are your thoughts on this idea?
 
BV: One kind of whole can be called compositely complex, while another can be called incompositely complex. A wall of stacked stones is a complex of the first sort: its parts (the stones) can exist without the whole (the wall) existing, and each stone can exist apart from any other. The parts can exist without the whole, but the whole cannot exist without the parts. Such a whole needs an ontological factor, a 'composer' to ground its unity and to distinguish it from a sheer plurality.  The wall is not a sheer manifold, a mere mereological sum of stones, but a unitary entity. It is one entity with many parts. God cannot be complex in this way. For then he would depend for his existence and nature on the logically/ontologically prior existence of his parts including his attributes (omniscience, omnipotence, etc.) if these are assayed as 'parts' or ontological constituents of God.  
 
Now your friend's suggestion seems to be that God is an incompositely complex whole of parts.  God has parts, but these parts cannot exist apart from the whole of which they are the parts, and no part can exist apart from any other part. The parts are then mutually dependent and inseparable.
 
I don't think this works.  Consider the 'composition' of essence and existence in a contingent being such as Socrates. The 'parts' — in an extended sense of the term — are mutually inseparable. The existence of Socrates cannot itself exist apart from his essence  and the essence of Socrates cannot exist apart from his existence.  And neither can exist apart from Socrates, the composite of the two.  But Socrates is a creature and God transcends all creatures. His absolute transcendence cannot be accommodated  by any scheme that allows God to be in any sense partite, not even if the parts are mutually inseparable.  God's absolute transcendence requires that he be absolutely simple.  God belongs at the fourth level in the following schema:
 
Level I.  Pure manyness or sheer plurality without any real (as opposed to mentally supplied) principle of unity.  Mereological sums. The sum just is its members.
 
Level II. Composite complexity.  A whole of parts the unity of which is contingent, as in the case of the stacked stones. There is one wall composed of many parts, but the parts can exist without the whole. The whole, however, cannot exist without the parts.
 
Level III. Incomposite Complexity.  Wholes the parts of which are mutually inseparable, whether weakly inseparable or strongly inseparable.  Suppose a particular cannot exist without having some properties or other, but needn't have the very properties it in fact has, and (first-order) properties cannot exist without being had by some particulars or other, but not necessarily the particulars that in fact have them.  We then say that particulars and properties are  WEAKLY mutually inseparable.  If, however, particulars cannot exist without having the very properties they have, and these properties cannot exist without being instantiated by the very particulars that instantiate them, then particulars and properties are STRONGLY mutually inseparable.
 
Level IV. Absolute Simplicity. The absolutely simple transcends the distinction between whole and parts.  Whereas in Socrates there is a real distinction between essence and existence despite their strong mutual inseparability, in God there is not even this distinction.
 
In sum, God's absolute transcendence requires absolute simplicity. Your friend's suggestion as you have reported it is stuck at Level III and does not reach Level IV.

The ‘Progressive’

A typical 'progressive' will insist that the law-abiding citizen exercising his constitutionally protected (not constitutionally conferred) right to keep and bear arms has no need of weapons since it is the job of the police to protect the citizenry against the criminal element. At the same time, this  'progressive' works to undermine the police and empower criminals. Examples are legion, e.g. the recent bail elimination in New York State.