This from Kleiner’s blog:
An article that talks about the “raised hopes” that we may not be unique in the universe:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23212185/
I am always confused by people who “hope” that we find out that we are not unique. If there is extra-terrestrial intelligent life, that would be an extraordinary thing to be sure. But why “hope” for something like this? One might be curious, but “hopeful”?
Walker Percy addresses this in his brilliant little book “Lost in the Cosmos.” Percy suggests that Sagan and others are so hell-bent on finding intelligent life elsewhere (or that apes have language here) because they are desperate to affirm science’s apparent judgment that we are not unique in the cosmos (that we really are just an accidental pile of cosmic dust). But why be so bent on proving you are not unique?
The real trouble, for Percy, is that they spend so much time looking out into the universe that they do not know themselves – and they manage to ignore how singularly amazing the event of human language is.
Sagan, like every other ET searcher, is in need of connection – community. He is alienated (lost in the cosmos). But is the answer as much “in here” as it is “out there”? Will we really know ourselves and secure “hope” by the finding of other allegedly random bits of matter organized in a way similar to us?
USUPhilosophy 
I agree that I don’t understand the “hope” business. I’m curious about life on other planets, and I guess Sagan somewhere provides a good probabilistic proof that there is life out there, though very probably so far away (in either time or space) that we’ll never encounter it. I wonder if the “hope” comes in the form of people hoping against the odds that life will be found on a planet we can in some way reach, since that would be nifty. If the “hope” is anything more than that, I’m genuinely puzzled.
I don’t see why discovering life on another planet would prove that some form of atheism is right. I really can’t imagine theists suddenly saying, “Oh, gosh, I guess God doesn’t exist.” Wouldn’t they say, “Whaddya know? God made creatures on other planets! Let’s send missionaries!”
I think Percy’s got this one wrong. Either my fellow atheists are inexplicably goofy about this, or the “raised hope” business refers only to the excitement of discovering novel forms of life.
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Sounds like the beginning of a great Kilgore Trout sci-fi novel.
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I think that some of your fellow atheists (Sagan) are that goofy about this, but I would not insist that atheists must be goofy in this way.
Maybe I could rephrase this to get a bit more mileage out of it: Is “hope” a legitimate category for a materialist?
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I have lots of hopes, by which I mean: though the future is determined, I don’t know which way it is determined, and it would please be greatly if it turned out to be determined in that particular way, so I “hope” this is the case.
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I was packing more into the concept of “hope” than what you seem to have assumed. I don’t mean the sort of hope like ‘I hope the Red Sox win the Series this year’. I mean profound hope. I mean something like this: can the materialist hope for the overcoming of alienation (however we might cash that out)? In other words, our lives are a question – can we hope for an answer? And will it be an answer that makes us despair?
I am assuming that the “there is no real meaning to life” answer will lead most ordinary people, including me, to despair. In fact, this is not just restricted to ordinary people – it is worth adding that none of the great thinkers of despair can really tolerate it. They all know that alienation is a problem, but they cannot just live with it. Forgive my oversimplification here, but: Sartre ends up trying to muscle his way out of despair through pure acts of freedom. Camus seems to simply ignore it. Nz cannot handle the “there is no real purpose” answer so he makes up his own “noble lie” for himself with the eternal return and the call to create. And Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky know they need Christ.
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OK, I understand. In that case, I am indeed hopeless!
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My question then would be this: Do you think “alienation” is an issue? I am using “alienation” in a very broad sense, something like ‘man not being fulfilled’ or there being something in the human condition that has ‘gone wrong’. Pick your poison when it comes to the characterization (Kant, Hegel, Marx, Nz, Kierkegaard, Sartre, Rousseau, Emerson, etc).
It seems to me you have two options:
(a) Deny that alienation is a real problem, perhaps arguing that it is an illusion manufactured by metaphysical and religious lies.
(b) If you think alienation (in whatever form) is an issue, then you bite the bullet and remain hopeless. You admit that you cannot speak to a profound and primordial part of the human condition (alienation).
I think (a) would be a stretch. Nearly every philosopher in history grants that “alienation” is an issue. So does the honest naturalist just have to admit that the situation is really hopeless, that nausea is the feeling proper to authentic man? (Recall that great scene in Nausea by Sartre where Roquentin sits under the tree and is overwhelmed by nausea upon the thought of his life).
In other words, can naturalism really answer the question of human existence? JPII was fond of saying that “Jesus Christ is the answer to the question posed by every human life.” I guess you bite the bullet and admit there is no answer, that Camus is right in saying suicide is the fundamental problem of philosophy. But then you quickly fill yourself up with projects and noble lies, becoming the “naught” which Percy so brilliantly describes in Lost in the Cosmos?
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I’m tempted to say that alienation is a problem for some people, but not all. I believe there are some people who can read Camus et al. as much or as deeply as anyone pleases and, at the end of it, honestly say: “I just don’t feel the despair. I have a loving family, good friends, etc., and I like being alive, and I know I’ll die, and that’s that.” Other people can be shortchanged at the Quickie Mart and write a 900-page manifesto on the inherent injustice of being alive. Of course, some people are happy only because they are distracted; and others perhaps are miserable only because they are distracted. And there are chemical imbalances, and so on, thrown into the mix.
But I think the truth remains: some people feel alienation as a problem, and some don’t. (The latter folks tend not to write philosophy, by the way.)
By the way, wouldn’t Nz fall into your (a) category?
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Of course, the retort of the existentialist (Sartre, Camus) to those who “just don’t feel despair” is that they are inauthentic or in “bad faith”. I am not defending that claim (though it might be worth defending). But you know the drill: ‘If you do not agree with me, then you must be lying to yourself.’
Regarding Nz: I think this is a very interesting question. Please correct me if my interpretation here is spurious
I think he wants to fit into my category (a), but even after he thinks he has bucked off the religious/metaphysical delusions, he still confronts this problem of justifying his life. Isn’t that why he has to invent myths like the eternal return? In other words, I think Nz wants to be in camp (a), but finds himself still dealing with alienation on the hither side of metaphysics, cannot tolerate it, so becomes a myth-maker (a metaphysician!!!) himselfl! This is Heidegger’s claim – Nz is still knee deep in metaphysics because he is still knee-deep in a narrative about freedom/possibility. That said, Heidegger would not suggest that alienation is simply a metaphysical delusion. He would think that alienation is a concern even on the hither side of metaphysics (as do Levinas and Derrida).
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I don’t think Christianity or any metaphysics we might resuscitate solves this problem of alienation. They just give us other ways to despair. Like trying to reconcile this world as the best of all possible worlds or reconcile God’s goodness with his silence. Switching around your metaphysical beliefs doesn’t allow you to avoid the problems of existence. (i think that’s what Kleiner was saying at the end of that last comment? I got lost in the hithers.)
If you want to see what good Christianity (et al.) does form a more empirical point of view you might collect some stats about depression and the use of depression medication among different belief systems.
But this is what I always say… worldviews, metaphysics, etc…. fancy decorations.
The coolest thing about being a philosopher is that you try to face life from whatever perspective you or anyone else can conjure up. Yesterday I tried to face this life as an athiest, today I’ll try out some theism, I might even pick up some reincarnation on the way to the store tomorrow.
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Mike and I just don’t see eye to eye very often, but that is all right.
I don’t think the problems that might attend theism (like the problem of evil) are the sorts of things that would make us “despair” or feel “alienated” in the sense in which I am using those terms. I am not denying that those are real problems, just that they are not the kinds of things that “alienate” us. (Besides, I think those issues (the problem of evil and the question of miracles) can be attended to in a satisfactory manner.)
I also don’t think that depression statistics would tell us much that is relevant here. Clinical depression is not the same thing as existential despair. Not even close. Read Sickness Unto Death, you will know that these are different things. On the flip side, “hope” (the opposite of despair) is not the same thing as clinical mental health (though the two might overlap).
Theological interlude: Christianity does think it resolves the problem of alienation – though it means this in some ultimate sense. We still see through a looking glass dimly. Reconciliation is underway, but we are in an “already not yet” condition (Christ has come, Christ will come again). By that I don’t mean that Christ cannot affect you in a profoundly personal, existential way here and now. He does. I just mean that the world is still alienated.
Here is where Mike and I really do not see eye to eye. Unlike Mike, I think that “worldviews and metaphysics” are much more than “fancy decorations”. Ideas have consequences, concrete lived consequences. I know that Mike always wants to put the practical ahead of the theoretical. I don’t oppose that per se, hence my fondness for Levinas. But what I really think is that you cannot really separate the theoretical from the practical because they are so completely bound up in each other. Mike tries to treat the theoretical as window dressing, but his practical positions are always already bound up in metaphysical commitments (as is the case for all of us). What makes doing philosophy worthwhile is not that we can playfully “conjure up” various perspectives to cycle through. Philosophy is worthwhile because those that engage in it take seriously an investigation into our suppositions that ground our concrete engagements/judgments about the good, true, and beautiful.
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I also disagree that “suppositions” ground anything (I follow Wittgenstein’s story about language, at best words point to something going on in the real word, at worst they point toward nothing… confusion). I agree a particular metaphysics often seems implied by practical positions however, the fact that these can change so easily and that life really represents this flux leads me to believe they aren’t any sort of foundation for anything. Well, that combined with the terrible history of disagreement on the subjects.
If a person has the opposite view as you do you can either say they’re dishonest, say you’re dishonest or say you don’t have access to the same knowledge. Since we’ve been going over these issues for thousands of years, I’m going to rule out the third possibility. Now we’re in a terrible situation that can’t be resolved and will just lead to endless battles. But there is still one more option… the area of inquiry you’re looking at is beyond human understanding.
I know that just ends up being a segway into a religious conversation about revelation but that’s not where it should be taken.
I also agree that “ideas have consequences” but some more than others. Empirical research should easily show which have more consequences than others. I think Kleiner also would want to argue that a belief change is a valuable consequence.
One last thing, I think the exact same sort of alienation Kleiner’s describing can be found inside the Christian worldview. You just have to use your imagination a bit to see it. If there’s anything to it then it’s a shared concern. This whole “our view doesn’t lead to despair and your view does” is a huge, longstanding copout.
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My position?
Either metaphysical positions can be changed or they can’t be changed.
If they can, then they aren’t solid enough to provide the foundation for anything.
If they can’t then what’s the point of arguing over them?
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Not all consequences can be empirically verified. So I would be resistant to limiting ourselves in that regard.
Life is a task, so despair is always a possibility. I am not claiming that somehow becoming a Christian “cures” you of despair in any proximate sense (though it might cure you ultimately). My only point is that most “meta-narratives” speak to alienation and its cures, others (like naturalism) do not. I happen to think that Christianity is distinctive in the medicine is prescribes, and that its prescription (Christ) is the only real cure. But just about every major religious and philosophical tradition speaks to the issue and offers it own cures. Naturalism is pretty unique in this regard. So my question is this: is its unique avoidance/inability to speak of alienation in the human condition a virtue? Or does it make it an untenable point of view, existentially speaking?
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I can’t really defend naturalism because I think humans are terribly odd. Feel free to replace naturalism with any other ism at will.
If “the aim of philosophy is to make us better human beings” (Huenemann), we should probably get to that. What are the sorts of things that actually make us better human beings?
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I have a Christian friend who thinks of the Christian God and possibility of the afterlife in terms of a terrible otherness. Nothing friendly at all. When goodness isn’t defined in human terms (God’s ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts) it can take on some really terrible qualities especially if that’s what you expect in the eternal afterlife. You really need faith to believe that you’re going to be ok with God’s goodness since it’s not really graspable. I see that as terrible despair, alienation zone. But there are a gazillion other ways to look at Christian theology that don’t make you feel good about it when you’re a believer. Humans really do conjure up all sorts of madness wherever they happen to attach their beliefs.
I think these problems are human problems that get couched in different terms situated in different mental structures. I don’t think changing metaphysical views cures anything. Delving into the problems of metaphysics can be pretty therapeutic though. Learning the methods that each philosopher employs and seeing how you can be more honest with yourself and the world by employing that method. I also think there are so many different sorts of Christianity (that teach different things and live in different ways) that I find it hard to characterize it as a collective belief system anymore.
From one Christian to another I find extremely different viewpoints, just look at Barack Obama vs. GWB. Same religion? not in any way that I find important. I’ve also started reading Prothero’s “American Jesus” which doesn’t help (not great writing but interesting subject matter).
There’s also something to be said here about the comparison between one state and another. Expectations get trained in particular ways which leads to different feelings and causes certain situations and belief systems to exacerbate those feelings. I imagine this whole process is very subjective. I would also guess like Charlie that despair and alienation in philosophers is particularly acute and prevalent. But maybe they’re just the only ones who have learned how to express what they’re feeling.
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I think one end of philosophy is to make us better human beings, but I am not sure if that is the sole end. In fact, it might be more like a symptom. Anyway, as Mike hinted in his most recent post, what may make us better human beings is the practice of philosophy. And that is what we are doing right now.
Vince hinted at it, but let’s have at least a basic definition of despair on hand (generalized perhaps to the point of being mistaken):
It seems to me all of the views of despair (from Sartre to Kierkegaard) have this in common – they have to do with man being a paradox. That he is thrown into the world (determined) and yet free (Sartre). That he is articulating thrown projection (Heidegger). That he is finite and infinite related (Kierkegaard).
Man falls into despair, on all of these accounts, when the relation of these “parts” is out of whack. Thus, despair is a lack of self (this is explicit in Kierkegaard). Despair is not an emotional state – in fact one could be in despair and yet feel quite happy. One need not even be aware that they are in despair.
Alienation is related for most of these thinkers we all have in mind. It might mean being separated from oneself (very close to despair), from society, from God, etc.
Now, simply changing metaphysical views would not cure anything. Life is a task, not a shopping cart of metaphysical ideas that we browse and purchase. But there are metaphysical implications (even if we don’t want to call them “metaphysical” anymore) to the tasks we take up, so reflection on that aspect is not only possible, but important. The question is, what kind of life taken up as a task can address despair and alienation? Do certain “lives” hold the paradox in tension (one becomes a self) while others rip it apart (one fails to be a self)?
Regarding God’s “terrible otherness”. I quite agree that we should be extremely careful to not domesticate God. Also, know that when I refer to “Christianity” I am keeping in mind a distinction between “Christianity” and “Christendom”.
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so
Despair – existential disjoint (of some sort)
Alienation – separation (of some sort)
If these aren’t feelings then what is the cause for concern?
Let’s assume that alienation and despair as you’re defining them are genuine cause for concern. What are the solutions that are so helpful which these “meta-narratives” provide?
totally unrelated — I’m working on my conception of philosophy and this is the first thing that came out.
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The voice from the skeptic: I think you guys all know that I’m an avid reader of the existentialists. But at the same time I’m as skeptical of them as I am of Plato, Aristotle, and Kant. I find it both comical and pathological the way philosophers turn an honest sentiment like “Isn’t it science wonderful?” into “The mind imposes space and time onto reality.” Same goes for turning “I feel crappy today” into something like “The human condition is essentially alienation.” I can anticipate the response: “Kierkegaard et al. aren’t just expressing how they feel on some day; they’re getting a grip on the foundation of their own existence.” Hogwash, I say. That’s what they think they’re doing. And what they end up writing is beautiful, and has the power to get us to think about things and doubt things in daring and provocative ways. But they’re self-deceived about what they are doing, just as many artists are: “I’m providing a link between images and eternal forms.” Yeah, right, brother.
All this just to say: why on earth should I believe that all are humans are ‘essentially’ (so to speak) articulating thrown projection, or that if anyone is reflecting, there is regret? What hasty generalizations!
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While I appreciate (and might even agree) with part of Huenemann’s sentiment above, I do not agree with it entirely. It seems as if, on Huenemann’s view, philosophy is just so much mental masturbation. People making mountains out of molehills.
Philosophers might sometimes do that, but not always. This is part of my attraction to phenomenology – it seeks to avoid unnecessary abstraction and excessive theoreticism.
I don’t want to overly-Kantianize Heidegger here, but this is one way of thinking about it:
Let us say I feel disappointed. Well, it is not as if there is a non-stop flight from there to “the human condition is essentially alienation” (as Huenemann seems to suggest). Rather, my disappointed feeling is itself a sort of question – what are the conditions of the possibility of my feeling disappointed?
This is what Heidegger is up to in Being and Time, I think. He starts with the ordinary and the everday – and he does not want to lose that! But he asks, what must be the existential structure that could manifest itself in the existentiell everydayness of feeling/action/etc.
This is trying to get clear on my experiences, and what must be true of me in order that I might have the experiences that I actually have. Why should you believe you are “articulating thrown projection”? Because that account just might explain the structures (the conditions of the possibility, as it were) of your everyday existence!
This is not hogwash. I know Huenememann anticipated this response. But why should I think he is right when he says that they are all just “self-decieved”? Is it deception to want an account? Is it their particular methods that are deceptive? Is it their accounts that are deceptive? Why are we necessarily decieved about such things? And if Huenemann wants to say we are necessarily decieved about such things, isn’t he himself making a foundational claim about our existence?!
In short, I am never sure why the purported skeptic is above self-deception, and it is just everyone else that is decieved (and the skeptic gleefully points this out). Of course, in pointing it out the skeptic is making existential claims!!!
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Thanks for being patient with me. I guess I don’t want to deny the fact that many (ok, maybe all) humans experience some level of despair, and I don’t want to characterize the great philosophers as pulling big conclusions out of the silliest particular experiences. (I know, I did characterize them in this way — I was wrong, and am now contrite.)
But here is what I do want to say: ultimately, when philosophers look inward and think hard and try to discover what’s necessary for the possibility of (whatever), what they then come up with is more like a work of artistic creativity than a logical/scientific discovery. Some look inward and drudge up poetry, others music, others philosophy. A poem/symphony/treatise may resonate with you, or it may not, depending on your circumstances and how much you have in common temperamentally with the author.
The problem is that not many philosophers know this about themselves. They usually think what they have come up with is the only possible solution for any human being. This I think is ridiculous and comical. I also think it is the real lesson to be learned from the 19th century, a lesson that seems to have been drowned out by the upheavals of the 20th.
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Well, I am trained in Continental philosophy, which means I never make logical arguments!!
I end up thinking of a philosopher’s work as an invitation. Being and Time is a great example. There is not a single “argument” in the book. This might make it worthless in the eyes of some real hard core analytic folk (and they say as much), but I certainly don’t agree. It is a sort of invitation – does the characterization of Dasein resonate with you or not?
If not, well then I guess you should go read something else.
So I quite agree (as does Heidegger, by the way) that philosophy is not that much different than poetry in this sense. That said, I am not as quick to abandon the hope of a “universal” philosophy. I am inclined to think your condition is roughly the same as mine. If that is so then, for example, a fundamental ontology that accounts for me should also account for you. You may not enjoy reading Heidegger (who does?) but if he has something right well then he has something right.
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Let me add a bit to that last thought:
There are a number of ways of disclosing truth. We often make the mistake of thinking there is only one way (this is part of what Heidegger is critiquing in his attack on technological thinking). We should be wary of insisting that every bit of phenomena fit neatly into a logical argument or even a scientific theory. In fact, those modes of disclosure may actually cover up as much as they disclose (that is Heidegger’s principle critique of the “metaphysics of presence”).
That said, Huenemann seems to assume (I am reading between his lines, so correct me if I am wrong) that logic and science do have some special status. That is, he seems to assume that they are the only modes of thought that get you some kind of truth – whereas what he calls “artistic creativity” does not. I don’t see why we should need to say that. Why can’t poetry disclose truth every bit as much as logic or science? In fact, Heidegger would argue that poetry is a better disclosure, since it does not so easily fall into a metaphysics of presence. In other words, let’s not make the mistake of reducing the disclosure of truth to one or two modes of thinking, as if then everything else is just relative artistry that can’t get to anything that has “universal” resonance.
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Heidegger is incredibly difficult to read. I think there are three possible reasons for this (and these reasons are not mutually exclusive):
a) Heidegger is subject to that very German habit of making oneself ridiculously difficult to understand (see Kant, Hegel, Husserl, …)
b) Heidegger is trying to break with the metaphysical tradition, and this forces him to break new ground in language. He has to literally make up new words so as not to carry forth the baggage of the old.
c) Sometimes I think Heidegger himself is struggling with his own thoughts, as you suggest. Especially in the “later Heidegger”, Heidegger is clearly struggling to articulate this new way of thinking. It is not obvious that he succeeds, despite his many attempts (art, boredom, poetry, Holderlin) though there are tantalizing hints of what this “thinking which is beyond thought” might look like (silence, conversation, listening).
Regarding your last thought, that if you cannot explain something clearly, then you probably don’t understand it. One some level I of course agree. But if Heidegger is right, our thoughts think us as much as we think them. Part of the danger of technological thinking (and what is sometimes called the “metaphysics of presence”) is the insistence that we “understand” something in the sense of grasping it and bringing it under our control. Heidegger argues that in so disclosing, the thing which we seek actually recedes into the shadows. Disclosure is a dynamic affair (an “event”), it is not prone to mastery.
So not being able to explain something might just mean that you have a thought that is too great for your thinking! The task of thinking is never finished, it is a “way”.
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