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The Scrivener

Occasional scrivenings by the Scrivener, a scrivener and aspiring knowledge worker.

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Location: Fort Lauderdale, Florida, United States

Research librarian. Technologist. Lawyer. Bon vivant. Trivialist.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Eine Kleine Nietzsche-musik

Mystical explanations are considered deep. The truth is that they are not even superficial.
- Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, s.126

I was going to include this, one of my favorite Nietzsche quotes, in my last post, but then I realized it undercuts my argument somewhat.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"

Wittgenstein's Poker and Restoring the Lost Constitution

My friend Chagrin and I both recently read Wittgenstein's Poker: The Story of a Ten-Minute Argument Between Two Great Philosophers, by David Edmonds and John Eidinow. I found the book frustrating because I couldn't get a sense of Wittgenstein's philosophy from it. Or, rather, the sense I did get was frustrating. (Note 1.)

According to Wittgenstein's Poker, Wittgenstein founded two schools of philosophy, denoted by Edmonds and Eidinow as Wittgenstein I and Wittgenstein II. "But in Wittgenstein II the metaphor of language as a picture is replaced by the metaphor of language as a tool." (p. 228)

Further, according to Wittgenstein's Poker,
Philosophical questions, then, are puzzles rather than problems. In unraveling them, we are not uncovering the hidden logic unearthed by Russell and Wittgenstein I, but merely reminding ourselves of what really exists, how language is actually employed. Can I "know" I am in pain? Well, in ordinary usage this is not a question that can be raised. Expressions of knowledge -- "I know that Vienna is the capital of Austria," for example -- are predicated on the possibility of doubt. But my pain is, to me, beyond doubt. What time is it on the sun? We cannot say -- not because we do not know the answer, but rather because the concept of time on the sun has not been allocated a place in our language; there are no rules to govern its application.

Does all this mean that philosophy is useless except to those intent on learning their living in it -- those liable to fall into the mire of self-deluded profundity? As Gilbert Ryle put it, what has the fly lost who never found himself in the fly bottle? The answer of Wittgenstein II [the second school of philosophy founded by Wittgenstein] was that his method combats the philosopher in us all. We are almost bound to topple into fly bottles -- it comes with the language. Although only a few of us are philosophers lecturing at the podium, all of us are philosophers at the kitchen table or in the Dog and Duck.
pp. 231-32

So according to Wittgenstein, there are no philosophical problems, only language puzzles.

But as a lawyer with an interest in the philosophy of law, I have to say that there are real philosophical problems. I am reading Randy Barnett's Restoring the Lost Constitution: The Presumption of Liberty, which is itself a work on the philosophy of the U.S. Constitution. I intend to blog about Barnett's book as I read it; consider this the first post.

In Chapter Two of Restoring the Lost Constitution, Barnett addresses the legitimacy of a constitutional regime without unanimous consent -- the current state of affairs in the United States. He takes as an example of unanimous consent Leisure World, the private residential community his parents live in.

Unlike the town and state I live in, Leisure World originally purchased and owned all the land on which it is built and sold parcels on condition that the purchaser accept its governance structure. Because of its original ownership, it could rightly condition the sale of its property on obedience to the governance structure of Leisure World. There is a world of difference between obtaining land rightfully and conditioning its sale on consent to a lawmaking process, and imposing a lawmaking process on a nonconsenting rights holder. It is the difference between real consent and no consent.
(p. 41)

As Barnett acknowledges in a footnote to the above paragraph, he is eliding a number of philosophical issues.

Though I am not unaware of the serious philosophical issues raised by this paragraph, it would be unduly distracting to parse and pursue them at this point. For example, how do physical resources come justly to be privately owned in the first place, and what conditions can justly be placed on their alienation [i.e., their sale or rental]? However they are resolved, the difference remains: justifying the control over property exercised by persons who obtain title by the consent of previous rightful owners, or by first possession,is a substantially different matter from justifying the claims of some to rule territory belonging to others. For further discussion on the rightful acquisition of property, see Barnett, The Structure of Liberty, 69-71, 153-54.
Id.
What we must do, thought Wittgenstein II, is battle against the bewitchment of our language. We should constantly remind ourselves about everyday language -- language in the home. Our bafflement arises when language is used in unfamiliar ways, "when language goes on holiday." Can something be red and green all over? No, but that is not a deep metaphysical truth--it is a rule of our grammar. Perhaps in a far-flung corner of the world, in a distant part of a remote jungle, there is an undiscovered tribe in which descriptions of shrubs or berries or cooking pots as "red and green all over" are commonplace.
Wittgenstein's Poker, p. 231.

To a legal philosopher, consent and ownership are real issues. No amount of language manipulation can do away with the philosophical problems of individual consent to a legal regime, or ownership of property. These problems do not exist because of lacunae in the language used to describe them. To use one of the metaphors of Wittgenstein's Poker, there cannot exist a tribe somewhere whose language somehow untangles the "confusions" of consent and ownership.

I don't mean to deny the existence of language problems, or even language puzzles; I just refuse to grant them primacy of place in philosophy. I like language games -- as anyone who knows me will attest. But it is because I like them that I know that they are not the sole concern of philosophy.

Note 1. I confess: I tried to read Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-philosophicus while reading Wittgenstein's Poker, and found it impenetrable. I know it's bad form -- and possibly intellectually dishonest -- to rely on someone else's interpretation of philosophy in criticizing it, but c'mon.

Grace versus (Matrilineal) Descent, Part III

Another follow-up post to my friend Chagrin's comment.

I like the "triangular religion" paradigm (could call it a meme, but nah -- too teuthid). Nationality, ethnicity, and personal beliefs. Many Israelis are, for example, ethnic, secular Jews. I am an American secular Jew. Chagrin is an American ethnic Protestant Deist, while her father is an American ethnic Protestant with a "personal relationship" with Jesus, i.e., an Evangelical Christian.

Chagrin again: "I think it's important that one not get too lost in the overlap of issues of nationality, ethnicity, and personal beliefs, because there is no perfectly triangular 'Jew', 'Japanese', or 'WASP'."

I think that wraps this thread as well as anything I could say.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Grace versus (Matrilineal) Descent, Part II

My friend Chagrin posts a very interesting comment, not least because it anticipates my next post in this thread.

She writes: "WASPs go to church for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is finding a life-partner or a business partner. They network."

Interesting, isn't it, that skeptic, humanist, agnostic that I am, I hung out in the chatroom on JDate.com, a Jewish dating website, married a (very) Jewish woman I met there in a Jewish ceremony (Note 1), and have expanded my connection -- certainly mostly cultural -- to Judaism through her, her enormous, very Jewish, family, and the Jewish community in her hometown? (Note 2.) It's even true, even though, as I say elsewhere, I married a a shayne maydeleh from Barranquilla, Colombia, that her family and my family are from the same area of Eastern Europe, then the Pale of Settlement, but now Poland.

More in my next post.

Note 1. I actually married my shayne maydeleh wife in two ceremonies: one civil, one religious. This is one of those things (the other was having a woman rabbi officiate at my bar mitzvah) that made much more sense to me, philosophically, after the fact. After all: what part of "Congress shall make no law" don't they understand?

Note 2. I even represent the Centro Israelita Filantropico, the Jewish community center in Barranquilla (and I have the permission of its President to disclose that -- but there's another blog post there).

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Grace versus (Matrilineal) Descent

I just read an entry in a good friend's blog (who shall remain nameless) in which her father, a self-professed Christian, tearily told my friend, who is not: "I love you, and I don't want to go to heaven without you."

This caused me to reflect about something that's been on my mind a lot of late. My beliefs, I suspect, are similar to my friend's. I'm more a militant agnostic (politically as well as religiously militant) with atheist tendencies, while my friend and her teuthid spouse are (or so I infer) flat-out atheists. (See note 1.)

But my situation's more complicated than that -- allow me to elaborate.

I was just reflecting that a humanistic outlook (which is another way of describing my views) fits much better into Judaism than into Christianity -- especially given Christianity's emphasis on salvation by grace. My friend's father is (for certain values) a Christian -- because he has accepted fanciful stories written down a hundred years after the events they allegedly describe occurred as the revealed, inerrant word of God. (And yes, I'd describe the Tanakh -- similar but not identical to what my friend's dad'd call the Old Testament -- the same way, but change "hundreds" to "thousands.") My friend, however, is not a Christian. Had my friend been born into a Jewish family, however, her mother would have been Jewish, and she would be too -- whether she wanted to be or not. In that crucial respect, Judaism is a tribe, not a religion. So I am Jewish because my mom is, and regardless (within limits) of what I profess to be. My friend, on the other hand, doesn't accept Jesus as her ShorDurPerSav, um, that is, personal savior -- and that's that.

There are two related issues here that I am eliding. One, what happens in a Jewish family where the father is Jewish, but the mother is not. This is a complicated question; each branch of Judaism (across the spectrum: Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist) has different rules, which interact awkwardly. I don't have the time or the energy to address these issues here, but here is a good basic discussion, and here, courtesy of Wikipedia, is more then you probably want to know about Judaism, the word "Jew," "Who is a Jew?", and the Israeli legislation that lets Jews obtain Israeli citizenship as of right, the Law of Return (which article also has a link to the text of the Law of Return, in English, at the website of the Knesset, the Israeli parlament). (Hey! I just edited my first Wikipedia article!)

And two, the religious status of a Jew who has converted to another religion, especially one incompatible with Judaism. Being a Buddhist Jew is, rather than a contradiction, easy, according to this practicing Buddhist (a teacher of Buddhism, even) and observant Jew and this dialogue between a Buddhist Jew and a rabbi. Being a Christian Jew -- while it may have been true in an historical sense in the early part of the first millennium C.E. -- is and was, theologically, a contradiction in terms.

Of course, who am I as a humanistic/Reconstructionist Jew to say who is, and who is not, Jewish?

Note 1. I mis-read the signals. To quote my friend, "You might consider calling dad an evangelical, born-again, fundamentalists nutball. You might also add that I am a Jeffersonian deist with strong Buddhist and humanist leanings. What an oddball." No oddball she!

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