Culture of Death

For those that think the talk of a ‘culture of death’ is overblown, check out this book from philosopher David Benetar called ‘Better Not to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence”.  He defends an ‘anti-natalism’ view that suggests it is always a serious harm to come into existence.  It is, on this view, always wrong to have children.  He then argues that, when combined with pro-choice views, you get a pro-death view that sees abortion as something of a moral mandate.   

Among the central claims: ‘Those that never existed cannot be deprived’.  Apparently our psychology tricks us into thinking life is worth living when it isn’t, so we are ‘resistant to the suggestion that they were seriously harmed by being brought into existence’.  Umm … isn’t that basically nonsense?  If what he is referring to are things that are not, then ‘who’ is he talking about?

Can anything get published now, so long as its politics are on the right (well, left) side?

Is there another you scattered around the universe somewhere?

Here is a fun and interesting argument suggesting that the answer is “yes, probably.” The conclusion, as the author states it:

As long as somewhere in the universe, in some temporal order there exists a functional equivalent of each of your cognitive states, no matter where, in what material, or how grossly distributed over time and space, then there is a mental duplicate of you in existence.

Some good comments on the post are worth reading, too.

Having masters

Here is a fun little article by Ralph McInerny on how the best thought begins by thinking with someone else.  He mocks (rightly I think) the Enlightenment notion that to ‘accept anything on anyone else’s say-so’ is practially ‘immoral’.  

For my part, I have no trouble accepting things because other people think them (I am Catholic after all!).  In fact, as I grow older and less and less sure of my own capabilities, I am coming to see my thinking as more and more dependent on the masters from whom I have learned (both my ‘local masters’ like Kreeft, Schrag, and Lawrence but also my real masters like Aquinas, Heidegger, Aristotle, and Plato).  I am more and more concerned about thinking with them rather than thinking for myself.  This is why I suggested, in PHIL 3180 the other day, that I have moved almost completely past any notions of ‘authenticity’, a category that is suspiciously adolescent in its requirement that one says ‘no’ to both those whom have come before and to common sense.