Austin Hall Library

Lewis on Time

It may have been C.S. Lewis, although I am not certain, who first introduced me to the question of the nature of time. In his well-known and popular book, Mere Christianity, Lewis mentions, almost in passing, that God's life almost certainly does not consist of moments following one another. He says, "All the days are 'Now' for Him." His point was that God does not have eras; he doesn't have history. All time is present to him. That's perhaps why in Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Lucy could step through the wardrobe into Narnia, be in the wardrobe for less than a minute by her siblings' time, and claim she had been in Narnia for hours. There is a world not subject to a time system.

I think this idea, or at least this discussion about the temporal/non-temporal nature of time, is Aristotelian (time as the measurement of motion or change). Aristotle discussed the nature of time at length in Book 4 of his Physics. Augustine, in Book X of his Confessions, has an interesting but confusing (to me) discussion about time (not its nature), in which he addresses the question of how we can consistently speak about temporal being in a language primarily oriented to talk about permanent beings. He points out that the things we normally talk about as existing in time, despite their apparent permanence, are not at all permanent in their being.

What is temporal can be measured by time because it is subject to motion or change. What is eternal cannot be measured by time because, by definition, it is a permanent entity rather that a successive entity. The permanent doesn't have eras or history. All its days are "Now." Although such thinking may seem impractical, it is helpful in conceptualizing ideas beyond our temporal selves--heaven, hell, purgatory, eternity--and in concluding that only hubris prevents us from thinking about a world beyond our own. 

For the Philosophy-Minded

I have a number of short lists of helpful books on a variety of topics taken from the frequently changing list of my one-hundred most influential books. The larger list changes frequently because I strictly limit it to one-hundred books, thus necessitating the dropping of a title if one is to be added.

The short lists are simply suggestions on how to organize and approach focused reading projects on certain topics based on my own experience. One of my short lists is titled Five Helpful Books on Reasoning and Introduction to Philosophy. The list is below and the books are best read in the order I list them.

1. The One-Minute Philosopher by Montague Brown
2. The Art of Reasoning by David Kelley (intermediate)
3. A Guide for the Perplexed by E.F. Schumacher
4. Philosophy: An Introduction by J.M. Bochenski
5. The Unity of Philosophical Experience by Etienne Gilson

Is There a Difference Between a Tyrant and a Saint?

As James Schall puts this question in The Order of Things: "That is, are there norms the opposite of which would be also equally acceptable, equally human, equally valid?" If there is no difference between a tyrant and a saint, then no standards, political or otherwise, can be upheld. If there is no definable and objective difference, then whatever we do is justified on the sole grounds that we do it, whatever it may be.

Although the average person often feels uncomfortable with expressing  modern realities in this way, they deny it only in the abstract. Practically speaking, it seems as if what it is to do "wrong" or what it is to do "right" these days is arbitrary. Socrates held, however, and Christ reiterated, that to be a complete human being we must affirm that it is never right to do wrong. A society that has lost its ability to readily discern, affirm, and explain the difference between a tyrant and a saint is "out of order."

Would We Be Better Off If We Were Someplace Else?

Wendell Berry in The Distant Land writes: "And in some of the people in the town and the community surrounding it, one of the characteristic diseases of the twentieth century was making its way: the suspicion that they would be greatly improved if they were someplace else."

Berry believes that this idea (we would be "greatly improved" by being "someplace else") undermines the very notion of self, family, and community. As James Schall notes: "If we wish to improve the world, the place to begin is not "someplace else", with institutions or cultures, but with ourselves, within where we actually live innermost to ourselves." Improving the world, or our own circumstances, begins with ordering our own soul. 

"You Need a PhD to be This Stupid"

The title of this post are the words of an Amazon reviewer of Professor David Benatar's recent Oxford Press book Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming Into Existence. Benatar is a South African academic who embraces utilitarianism in its most consistent form, and he is not afraid to take it to its logical conclusion--nihilism.

Professor Benatar is a clear writer and, while it is very hard not to recoil at his central thesis--that life is so dreadful we humans would all be better off if we never existed--his conclusion seems to flow logically from his philosophical perspective. As a utilitarian, Benatar assesses the benefits of existence by balancing benefits against harms. And, for such a consistent utilitarian, the pleasure in a person's life although good, would not be missed if the person never existed. Thus, it makes sense that in a life where existence always brings unpleasantness (which is undeniable), and never existing brings no unpleasantness (which is undeniable), coming into existence is always bad.

It is not the consistency of Professor Benatar's logic that I find troubling. It is the fundamental presupposition of utilitarianism that good is to be measured by a soulless balancing of benefits against harms. It appears to me that such a view is not wrong because it cannot be logically or consistently done, but because the mechanical balancing test is not in agreement with reality. One doesn't have to have a PhD to know that certain things in life, though accompanied by a degree of pain or unpleasantness, amply compensate for such pain by love, joy, a deep sense of fulfillment, and other such intangibles.

One can, as Benatar does, go about calculating the good by a cold balancing of benefits against harms. But, the degree to which one does so is the degree to which that person has lost touch with some part of what it means to be human. A philosophical system that concludes, consistent or not, that we should cease to have children, that women have a moral obligation to have abortions, and that we should prefer death to life is manifestly false and destructive because it is not in agreement with what is.

But, Professor Benatar is not stupid. On a certain level, I must confess a certain appreciation of his views. Without an understanding of the union of suffering and joy in suffering found only in the Christ of history, Benatar’s philosophy makes perfect sense. If the incarnation and passion of Christ were not true, even our own children would become an immeasurable burden instead of a source of incalculable joy. The benefits of existence can never be fully understood and calculated unless our existence finds its ultimate fulfillment in something that transcends ourselves.    

Tractors, Art, and the Immaterial Self

The Southern Agrarian in me has been thinking of purchasing a tractor for several weeks. I have finally decided that the desire for such a purchase likely evolves from my immaterial self--the soul. Justified by the realization that my desire for a tractor comes from the part of me made up of wishes and hopes, things transcended, of imaginations, creative aspirations, and value ascriptions, I seem to have reached the point where owning a tractor makes very good sense.

I actually arrived at this somewhat tenuous conclusion over the weekend while thinking about art. In my reading I was reminded that even the most primitive people seem to have had the urge to express themselves creatively, or to depict themselves in some fashion. Man raises himself out of his surface primitiveness and poverty first through immaterial projections of how things can be if he fulfills his inner hunger and sense of wonderment by making something good, true, or beautiful out of disorder. And, it seems that the more man is daunted by the heartbreak or tragedy of his lot, the more he dramatizes his relation to the world (e.g., the Greeks, the Elizabethans, the music and art of African slaves in 19th century America). All this can't be accounted for in the reductionist formula of materialism.

And so, I am going to make some immaterial projections, get a tractor, move some dirt, and see if I can't create some culture on a small piece of material property prone to disorder. And I might get a dog if I can think of how that fits in all of this.

The Quotable Borruso

A few memorable quotes from Silvano Borruso's A History of Philosophy for (Almost) Everyone:

"Truth has never claimed to offer happiness. Very often it offers discomfort at best, persecution and even death at the worst. The one thing it offers-and delivers-is interior freedom."

"Willingness to do anything about error depends, of course, on the ability to see it . . . But the ability to see truth or to spot error largely depends on personal integrity."

"Truth is the agreement of the mind with what is." (Although not a direct quote, Borruso draws here from St. Thomas Aquinas, who in turn got the definition from Ibn Sina, a Muslim philosopher. The truth of the definition, however, belongs neither to St. Thomas nor Ibn Sina; it belongs to philosophy).

By the way, I took the picture in this post from the vantage point of the Ponte Garibaldi, over the Tiber River in the Trastevere District of Rome--looking back toward the Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica (enlarge the picture for a beautiful view). And, speaking of the bridges of Rome, here is a view of the Ponte Sant'Angelo (View this photo), and note the close up (View this photo). The construction of this bridge dates back to 126 B.C. and was ordered by Roman Emperor Hadrian, so that he could gain access to the Mausoleum that he had built and in which he was eventually buried. Originally called Elio, the bridge was later known as Ponte Sant'Angelo (the Mausoleum eventually changed its name to Castel Sant'Angelo and went from imperial tomb to papal fortress). In the year 600 A.D. Pope Gregory I is said to have seen a vision of an angel sheathing his sword. This was interpreted to mean that God's wrath, caused by man's wickedness, had abated, and with it the pestilence that had recently killed so many people. One hundred thirty-five meters long, the masonry bridge has five arches, the two lateral ones partially underground. At the bridge end opposite Castel Sant'Angelo (the second photo above), there are statues of angels symbolizing Christ's passion. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, the preeminent Baroque sculptor, received the commission for the angels and personally finished two of them.

Silvano Borruso--A Fascinating Thinker

While perusing philosophy stacks in the bookstores of Rome, I ran across the writings of a little known educator by the name of Silvano Borruso. Virtually unknown in the United States, Borruso began his teaching career in 1957 and lived and taught in Kenya from 1960 until 2006, when he retired from Strathmore School, a private day school in Kenya. A brief interview on his retirement may be read here .

Although on paper (apparently a single degree in Agricultural Science) Borruso does not appear particularly learned, he is a brilliant student of the history of philosophy and the development of ideas, as well as a master of the Classics. He has one of the newest translations out of The Confessions of St. Augustine, and his brand new translation of St. Augustine's De Ordine (On Order) is now available at Amazon Books.

But, it is Borruso's delightful A History of Philosophy for (Almost) Everyone that I stumbled first upon in Rome, and was not able to put down. So interested in the content, and his clear and readable style, I spent the next few afternoons on the portico of my residence in Rome reading that book. Borruso is a rare original thinker and his brief and even-handed analysis of Scholasticism and its importance is particularly excellent. I also recommend his book The Art of Thinking.

Unfortunately, Borruso's books are quite difficult to find in English. After some time, I was able to find only one place on the Internet where his books can be purchased in English (other than the one book on Amazon). It is here. The good news is that the cost is one-third of that I paid in Rome.

Read this great little article by Borruso on the study of Latin. In fact, if you are interested in the intellectual life, read whatever you can find by Borruso.

Human Dignity and Acts Freely Chosen

After having seen the poignant movie The Elephant Man on DVD, I purchased it so that I would have in my possession the rare evidence that modern media could produce works that highlight and elevate human dignity instead of those that highlight acts freely chosen that undermine it.

If you have not seen this movie, you should. Directed by a virtual neophyte (David Lynch), this deeply moving film tells the true story of Joseph Merrick, a Victorian-era man better known as The Elephant Man, due to his grotesque physical deformity. The book by Ashley Montague, upon which the film was closely based, tells the story of a human being reduced to an existence as a side-show freak and slave of a carnival barker.

The story of Joseph Merrick is immediately recognized as a sad one. But, it is much more than that. It is a tribute to human dignity. It is a reminder than humans do not receive their dignity from their outward and unchangeable appearance. It comes from elsewhere. First, it is intrinsic, natural, inalienable, and an endowment from the Creator by virtue of having been made in His image. Second, and also intrinsic, but the result of an achievement, human dignity comes from the acts one freely chooses. Finally, there is a human dignity, also intrinsic, that is a gift that surpasses man's nature and is the result of being a member of the divine family. Joseph Merrick possessed all three forms of human dignity despite the ridicule he endured for his outward appearance.

It is not possible ever to lose the first form of human dignity. Humans have intrinsic dignity simply by virtue of bearing the Creator's image. That recognition should form the basis of all human interaction. The third form of human dignity, is a gratuitous gift of divine life, offered to all, received by some. But the second form, so evident in the story of Joseph Merrick, is the dignity we are called upon to give to ourselves (with the help of God's grace) by freely choosing to shape our choices and actions in accord with truth, regardless of how difficult life and choice might be.

Getting to the Heart of Utilitarianism

Following up on a previous reference to the philosophy of utilitarianism (here), philosopher Stephen Buckle has written perhaps the best short article on the subject I have seen. In the article, he specifically mentions Peter Singer's ethical theory--"preference utilitarianism." Buckle gets to the heart of the matter when he states that what is really at issue in this philosophy "is the nature of the human being." The article is available online here.