philosophy

The Disappearance of Deference: Dissolving Morality

by C. P. Lawrence

Part IV: The Disappearance of Deference: Dissolving Morality

Full disclosure: this one is a bit long, but the subject matter demanded the length. My apologies.

When it comes to morality, Aristotle believed that moral principles were ingrained into one’s character by past actions “done in right ways and with right attitudes.” These past actions would come from community from those older and wiser. All of this could only take place in communities of differences where morality was much more than a list of wrongs and rights. This was, as Aristotle asserted, ingraining moral principles into one’s character through repeated physical actions done in community with others who would either confirm or correct. It was the action that revealed the morality. Aristotle believed that communal interaction with those older and wiser was how we would recognize the right application for the situation, which, for him, was a form of morality, but none of it mattered without the action. We are born into and live within communities for a reason; we are raised in families with parents; we are taught in schools by teachers and eventually we work and submit to others in vocation, and all of it develops in us a moral sense. The process of maturity, including the development of morality and the ability to reason, involves communities of difference and our interaction with them.

It is important to note the role that action plays in cognitive recognition and moral development. I see this as evidence in support of the importance of communities of difference, which supports Aristotle’s assertion of the relationship between reason and desire, but it would render Kant’s views of reason as merely practical null and void. There is ample evidence to support Aristotle’s notion that a gap exists between reason and desire. This gap between reason and desire has an important distinction; a smaller gap, the more likely we are to think in moral and practical ways, and the more inclined we are to have deference. This smaller gap would also indicate that reason was impacting desire, which is moral in context. A wider gap, the less likely we are to think in practical or moral ways and to have deference, but the issue does not stop there. A wider gap also indicates that we are more likely to reach a point of malicious intent when it comes to morality, due, in part, to reason and desire operating autonomously with little to no impact on each other. 

As sensual people, desire will trump reason if they act independent of each other. In this situation, it will be our desire that pushes us to the point of narcissism and even madness when it comes to morality. Every decision, including moral ones, will be rooted in self, which turns our selfish desires into our own morality. In this moral state, there is no greater good, no concern for others, no empathy and certainly no deference. Our morality and our desire become one. We become hostile to anyone who does not share our ideology, our thoughts or reason as we do, which pushes us to seek community with only those who are like us. We join homogenous groupings that we think share our ideas and beliefs, which seems to confirm our rightness and everyone else’s wrongness, but the opposite is true. These groupings become our morality and determine our thoughts, ideas, and values. In these groups, we think one dimensionally, do little to no thinking on our own and repeat the groups as our own. We do not think in a dialectic way, and our morality becomes narrow and skewed.  

In this moral state, decisions are not based on a greater good or on a concern for others; instead, decisions, policies and even laws are based only on the morality of the group and their explicit ideology or worldview, manifesting through our own perception. It is our perception that becomes our truth, and all thoughts, ideas and decisions are based upon it, which are not original but merely an extension of our grouping. In this moral state, we feel safe and right because we are surrounded by those who share our morality, and our perceptions are always true and right as long as they are rooted in the morality of the grouping. The concept of a greater good dissolves along with empathy for others and all that is left is power. At this point, Aristotle would see this situation as a complete moral failure due to it being based on desire alone. He would see it as a failure to think practically and reason rightly because every situation would be perceived according to one’s own internalized values and for one’s own personal gain, which would come at the expense of all others and any kind of general good. There would also be a personal cost. In this situation, there is no growth or maturity; there is no development. There is only sameness, bitterness, and cynicism.

Sadly, I see this situation playing out before us today. In this moral state, internalized personal values become one’s morality and the main means of reason which form their own reality. In one sense, it is a shared reality with those in the grouping, but in another sense, it is a lonely and isolated place where one feels trapped; to think different thoughts is to commit treason to the grouping. This is devastating because the grouping has become family. It is welcoming and accepting, but only of those who align with its morality and ideology. This causes a loss of a proper perspective on the world and gives way to an isolated and egocentric approach to life. In such a moral state, one’s perceptions are flawed as they become skewed and narrowed, leaving only room for the grouping’s own ideology and morality. Perception instead of reason merges with desire evolving into something masquerading as morality used in moral ways.  

Perception, for Aristotle, was a psychophysical state, which lead him to this idea of akrasia (Please return to my first post for a reminder of what this is.) which revealed the importance of physical action to morality. When a thought moves us to action, we believe and value that thought to the point that we act on it, which is the physical part of morality. Aristotle thought an individual’s actions were not solely defined by their circumstances, thoughts, or ideas but they also included the actions produced by these thoughts and ideas. These physical actions were powerful and moral. For Aristotle, this narrow egocentric view of the world would be unlikely and unable to produce any moral action on behalf of others; it would only be able to produce action for the benefit of self. We are an egocentric people, and our morality is an ongoing fight between the desire to be selfish and the conviction to be selfless, which Aristotle recognized as the battle between reason and desire. 

Aristotle thought that this polarized immoral state was the result of desire dominating reason. For him, it was a lack of character development, which was needed to withstand the temptation of self, that allowed this immoral state to thrive. As people, we will always battle the temptation to be selfish, but it is a battle meant to be fought in community with others who are different and not in isolation on our own. In isolation, especially morally, there will be no means to fight this temptation and to develop the character required to withstand it. It is the relationship between the circumstance of the immediate situation and the circumstance of the particular or the “perfect form” that are the battle lines in the fight to develop the character needed to ward of those temptations. He considered these communities of difference as the proper environment needed to win these battles. 

Aristotle referenced that the battle between reason and desire was difficult because all states of practical thought converge at the same point, which obscured the differences between those who speak of judgment, understanding, practical wisdom and reason with those who possess judgment, understanding, practical wisdom and reason. When we only speak of these issues and no longer act on them, we will never possess them, and they will never become ours to use. These situations indicate that reason and desire are operating independently from one another, and discernment, which is a product of a right relationship between reason and desire and is morally necessary for practical thinking and deference, is no longer being produced, leaving us in an ongoing moral dilemma. 

The answer to this moral dilemma is phronesis, which is roughly translated as practical wisdom, prudence, and sound judgment; it could also be considered deference. For Aristotle, it was this phronesis that acted as intellectual virtue, allowing individuals to make right choices in difficult situations for the greater good, but it was produced only in communities of difference, which is where we learn about virtue. It is virtue that is necessary for phronesis (or deference). Phronesis cannot exist without virtue, and virtue needs phronesis to be developed. For Aristotle, phronesis was the “eye of the soul” and enabled a person, who was virtuous—this virtue came from those past actions done in right ways with right attitudes in community—to do what should be done in a situation, and, if necessary, do it at the expense of person’s selfish desires. It was phronesis that pushed akrasia to the side and replaced it, but again, this could only be developed in communities of difference.  

This phronesis was not about following a set of rigid rules or an explicit ideology; instead, it was more akin to respecting and allowing reason and desire to work as perception and experience, and together, they would serve as the means to finding the “golden mean,” which, for Aristotle, was the appropriate middle or moderate response. Where have all the moderate responses gone? This golden mean does not come from within us, but instead, it comes from outside of us, from others, from community, and from our own internalizing of our interactions with differences. Phronesis, in a virtuous person, gives that person the ability to recognize the right action for the situation in much the same way a coach would coach players. It would be akin to a coach using knowledge, experience, and sense to determine how to prepare players in practice to perform well in a game. This would come from your own knowledge and your own experience developed by someone who mentored you. It would also come from your own sense for the game, which would be based upon how you internalized your past knowledge and experience with your current situation.  

Aristotle compared this phronesis to prudence, which is also analogous to deference. While deference is not practical thinking per say, it does begin in the same right position … an openness to the right action for the situation at the expense of self, which would make its nature moral. Aristotle suggested that when we act morally, we act with courage. Courage is an action made that is right even if it come as the expense of our own desire. He stated that to act this way would require our perception of the action to function as an instantiation, which is a form of courageous behavior (the perfect “form”). In a way, he was saying that acting in moral ways is acting in courageous ways because it is acting for good at the expense of self. It is how reason and desire come together to make a good decision. Sometimes that decision will also be our desire, but many times it will not. 

Aristotle saw practical thinking as a kind of moral temperament, in part, due to the need practical thinking has for selfless action of the individual. This selfless action, according to Aristotle, was a learned action in community and could not be produced in moral isolation by desire alone; it required reason and virtue. Kant suggested it was a priori while Aristotle a posteriori, in part due to the need for virtue. Aristotle believed that passions (desire) alone, which isa priori, could not respond in right ways because of their sensual, self-centered, and innate nature. They are rooted in who we are as people, in our daily desires. However, he also believed that virtue could only be acquired through a process of intentional conditioning through training in communities in possession of virtue, and yes, you guessed it, these communities would need to be communities of difference.

This opens another line of thinking altogether regarding virtue. I will tackle that subject next time. Until then …

The Disappearance of Deference: The Changing Nature of Reason

by C. P. Lawrence

Part III: Reason

In my last post, I submitted a thesis regarding who we have become as human beings. We are egocentric; we live in communities of sameness and deference is slipping away from who we are. Has reason also changed? To find that answer we need to go back to Aristotle and start with his thoughts on reason. 

Aristotle claimed that abstract forms of reasoning—and most reasoning begins in abstract form—are impossible without imagery; imagery used in reasoning tends to be concrete and come from community. Aristotle suggested that this “imagery” presented a “particular” that the thinker used as an example to measure a thought; he called this imagery a universal (a standard) used to adjust and correct one’s thoughts. One way to think about these particulars or universals would be as if they are akin to Plato’s perfect “forms.” The particular or the form was thought to be the center of cognition, especially when we think about moral ideas. It was a baseline of sorts on which to measure our initial thoughts and perceptions, but, according to Aristotle, these standards do not come from within us; instead, they come from outside of us, from community and the morality and differences found there. It is community that is part of the development of practical thinking and of reason, and, for me, deference is the gate that allows for that development.

But if all ideas are a priori, as many assert today, then reason would also be a priori, which makes little sense if we consider Aristotle’s ideas on reason as accurate. If reason is a priori, it would mean that these particulars, or forms, would no longer function as universal standards because we would no longer interact with community in the ways of the past, which would reduce their impact on us. Our interactions would be primarily with communities of sameness, which would no longer provide moral baselines. Instead, we would seek these communities for confirmation and encouragement, especially if the only communities we engage are those who share our same ideology. In such situations, we would no longer reason; instead, our thinking would be an extension of our own ideology and come in isolated chunks or pieces extending from our own thoughts and in support of our own thoughts. We would not rationalize or even contemplate; we would simply act or not. Everything would be personal to us because every thought would place us at the center. Every thought counter to ours would be perceived as hostile and threating because, in essence, they would be. 

Change, correction and accountability would be our enemy, which means we would keep repeating the same mistakes and never grow or mature. There would be no such thing as a general good because we would have no concern or need for such a good; our only concern would be for our own good. Every thought and action would extend out from us and be rooted in who we are. We would be offended more than encouraged; everything would be personal, and gossip and rumor would serve as a means of confirmation and promotion of our own ideas and thoughts. Thinking this way would not produce any kind of truth or morality, but instead, produce irrationality, dysfunction, and chaos, leaving those who think this way always seeking power and offended if they do not find it. The idea of good would be mangled and reduced to plays of power; the ideas extending from these people would only have two purposes: accumulate power or reluctantly submit to those who have power. There would be no need for respect, deference, truth, or morality. There would be no learning and certainly no reasoning. There would only be divisions, insults, lies and everyone would be watching out only for themselves. Excellence would evaporate and any idea of morality would be considered weakness because every situation would be a play for power, which would be selfish and pragmatic, with morality considered a weakness. Any moral decision for sake of others would be crushed and used for the sake of self.   

With abstract thought, even in this situation, we would still first seek clarification and understanding about an idea before we moved it to action, which is still a form of learning and reasoning, but if we no longer interact or embrace any kind of difference, then, there would be no way for that difference to impact us. Our actions would be reduced to reactions in ways that either benefited us or submitted to the most powerful good at our own expense. Our actions would be reduced to only reactions, which would be purely pragmatic and practical. Any new situation would force either our reaction, which would be based upon an old situation, a power play, if we had power, or our submission to the most powerful idea, but there would be no practical thinking or reasoning as those elements necessary for both would no longer be part of who we are. In each new situation, our own personal good would be the goal. We would no care for others, the greater good or doing what is right.

The absence of practical thinking, according to Aristotle, is ultimately a failure to be moral when we should be moral, which is what separates human beings from all other beings. It would also be a failure to reason properly. Reasoning, practical thinking … both, for Aristotle, were moral in nature. Our tendency, according to Aristotle, is to be too easily swayed to be general in moral situations for selfish purposes, which is what is produced when we live in a world void of deference. Is this not what we see playing out before us in culture? In such a moral state, we would make the choice that is beneficial to us, regardless of its application or situation to others or the greater good. Deference, respect, and concern for others would be gone. The only issue that would matter to us would be our own well-being and this would come at the expense of the greater good and of others. 

The even more disturbing part is that the morally right decision would mean very little to us. We would see it as weak and lacking excellence; we would even present it as a poor decision when it was merely a decision against us. Our response would either be to submit to the decision or invoke our own power to sway the decision toward us. I would question whether we, in this moral state, would even recognize how morally upside-down or selfish our decision was, in part, due to who we had become as a human being. Would the general good be general or even considered good anymore? I am not sure. Would there be a right way to do things, or would that merely be a distant memory? 

Do you recognize any of this? It is the path that we are on. Politicians, entertainers, athletes … all with power and all looking out only for themselves at the expense of everyone else while lecturing the rest of us on what we should be doing. If truth is relative and merely a means to a personal end, then there is no moral basis on which to lecture anyone anymore. There is no good and evil. There is only self. What would be the first sign that our culture is on this wrong path? In my opinion, it would be the disappearance of deference.

This concludes this section, but there is another one the way. Until then … 

The Disappearance of Deference: Thought and Perception

by C. P. Lawrence

Part II: Thought and Perception    

As I begin this section, it is important that we not leave this idea of akrasia behind. Aristotle saw akrasia as a failure (actually, a state of failure) to accept the circumstances associated with the context of an individual action, which, in certain situations could be considered delusional. This akrasia was powerful and could and would become presuppositional, due to its nature, if employed consistently. According to Aristotle, the state of failure found in akrasia is produced by the strained relationship between thought and perception. When one’s perception reaches the point of reality and impacts thoughts and actions, it’s nature will become presuppositional for the individual. It will become their reality and impact who they are and how they live.  

The Thomas Theorem applies here, which states, “if men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.” This theory refers to the point when an individual’s subjective perception of a situation trumps the objective facts of the situation and shapes and impacts behavior, affecting the resulting actions of the individual’s behavior. The application of the Thomas Theorem indicates the presence of the following assumed truths as lived out by the individual:

  1. It is assumed that human behavior is guided only by one’s own perception and interpretation and not impacted by objective truth. 
  2. It is assumed that it is the individual who defines what is taking place, even when involving others, by way of their own perceptions and interpretations which are the basis for one’s subsequent actions. 
  3. It is assumed that even if one’s actions are based upon one’s own false perceptions, there are real world consequences to these actions due to the person acting on them amid others. 

There is a point where delusion begins, and the Thomas Theorem presents the elements needed for that point. I believe the ability to accept the actual consequences of a situation over one’s perceptions of that situation is reality, but it is a reality that does not necessarily emanate from within us even if the impact is predominately on us. Reality is, in most cases, based upon our thoughts aligning with most others in the situation. The deeper we retreat into ourselves the more the potential for our delusion to become our reality, which is what I see in our world today through our use of phones, social media, and technology. 

This Thomas Theorem presents one scenario on how impactful diverse versions of truth can be on us, especially when our own beliefs and subsequent actions are responses to those versions of truth. There are many terms for these situations: one of the most common would be referenced as self-fulfilling prophecies. How are we to respond to this existential threat to who we are as people. In the past, we have not had to respond as we have lived and socialized inside, what I call, communities of difference. These tended to keep our delusional tendencies in check, as we all have them, but those communities are diminishing in number. Instead, what is growing in number and in impact are communities of sameness, which promote one predominant ideology as true and right over all others. It is these communities that clamor for power; the more powerful they become, the more they will impact the moral structure of who we are as human beings. 

In the past, we co-existed amid our differences, in part, due to the mutual respect of our differences which were developed in these communities of difference. To be clear, there were problems in these communities as well, but from my perspective, there were also readily available solutions too. This is why I believe the absence of deference is important. To solve anything involves change, whether that change is an original thought or a perception, it will require both difference and conviction. Both of those come from a community of difference and not from an individual in moral isolation. Living inside one’s own isolated morality tends to produce a person who is suspicious of difference, void of respect and in possession of little consideration for others; all of these just happen to be the moral foundation of deference.

The problem we face today is that morality is presented as reason and as a priori, which would make it pragmatic and situational. In this situation, there would be no alternate consideration for one simple reason: there would be no source for it. This would be, in part, due to the isolation of the individual from difference. If every person lives inside their own homogenous morality, there can be no deference because deference depends on difference and the respect of that difference. An absence of deference would be due, in part, to a community where akrasia and its state of failure and the assumed truths of the Thomas Theorem existed as norms, which would make reason circular and morality pragmatic and situational. To reason away from an original thought at the expense of self would require an alternate thought that was embraced as valid, reasonable, and equal. The geneses of that alternate thought would have to come from a source external to who we are in our isolated moral situation; it would have to come from a community where difference was allowed to exist. Without difference and deference to that difference, would we even consider anything external to own thoughts? I think we know the answer. 

This alternate thought to our original one would have to be respected and perceived as valid and equal. We would have to live with it and see it each day in action in community. The only way our minds would be changed would be if we were convinced that our original thought was wrong. That conviction, in my opinion, would begin, in part, with deference, which would be an openness to change. The change itself would come from the community and the different moralities found there. To be clear, a community used to be a heterogenous collective of which an individual was a member of difference. Not too long ago, communities were everyone shared the same ideology and morality were not referenced as a community or even in a positive light. There are many forms of community. Community could be one’s family, school, friend group, church, workplace, or neighborhood, but these communities of difference are dying due to the consolidation of communities into one morally homogenous community group with one moral ideology. Many of these communities have a home that is often online, making it much easier to expand but also much easier to educate the community in the isolated morality.

Considering all this, what does reason look like today? That is the next question I will tackle in my next post. Until then … 

The Disappearance of Deference: Analyzing Cultural Divides

by C. P. Lawrence

Is Deference Gone for Good?

Part I: Akrasia

I think we can agree that we are a divided people. It may be one of the last issues on which we agree, but that does not make it any less true. As divided people, we tend to view those who hold different values and beliefs as the enemy; we offer them no respect, no friendship, and certainly no deference, which prompts my question: Is deference gone for good? Does its absence divide us or are we divided because of its absence? I should probably offer my understanding since the term is one that can now mean many things. 

Deference, for me, is a posture of respect for others and their judgements or opinions, especially those with whom we differ. It is a humility of self and a courteous regard for others. Deference extends beyond a concern for a person; it is also a concern for that person’s reputation and character. It is careful consideration of one’s own thoughts and opinions to avoid gossip, slander, and false accusations. I also see it as embracing difference in such a way as to respect it in both people and ideas. Today, difference divides, which may explain why deference is disappearing. This situation is unhealthy because we have now been given the means to isolate ourselves into our own homogenous groups of sameness. Now, we not only avoid difference—we attack it. I recently read an article on Aristotle’s views on reason that presented an interesting perspective on all this. This series of posts will explore this line of thinking. 

The author began the article with a statement … that Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics was generally about practical thinking. While I hold a slightly different view, this idea of practical thinking does speak to my concerns regarding deference. The author suggested that practical thinking, according to Aristotle, was something that “we, as human beings, use to impact others by way of our reason.” It was this statement that garnered my attention because it was a statement rife with implications regarding reason. If Aristotle was right, and I believe that he was, then he has something to say regarding both reason and deference. Let’s begin with Aristotle’s semantics associated with practical thinking. He thought that any kind of thinking that required the “conceptualization of one of more actions” was considered practical thinking due, in part, to the movement of a thought to a physical action. This, for him, was the natural progression of practical thinking, which makes a cleaner distinction between it and cognition. 

According to the author, to understand Aristotle’s views on practical thinking, it is best to begin with the term, “akrasia,” which, for him, was acting against one’s better judgment. Aristotle saw akrasia as “lacking self-mastery; it is often translated as “weakness of will” or “incontinence,” which is an action against one’s better judgment or in accord with one’s own desires at the expense of a right decision, which tends to represent the general good. Could we also say, in a secondary sense, that akrasia is a lack of deference as well? Maybe. According to Aristotle, the failure to act against one’s better judgment for the sake of good was a conflict between reason and desire and a lack of self-control. It is the action that is key. Aristotle saw thinking that produced a physical act as the manifestation of thoughts to actions governed by beliefs and values, making practical thinking moral in nature. It was one’s beliefs and values that often determined when a thought became an action. To act for the good of others or for the general good at the expense of self was, for Aristotle, an element of practical thinking, and, for me, foundational to deference, because the implication is that both practical thinking and deference are moral in some way. However, there are those who would say that the same could be said of evil acts. They, too, are thoughts manifesting as acts, but their moral make up is, instead, immoral in nature. The point being that practical thinking is practical when its thoughts manifest as actions, but it is the nature of those actions that determine its moral makeup, which is where I see it impacting deference.   

I see deference disappearing from our culture and there are many reasons why. After reading this article, I have become convinced that the loss of practical thinking that is moral in nature could be one of those reasons. I believe one major contributor to this loss is technology and its many forms. It now provides the means to promote self while also attacking difference, which is not deference, but it is practical thinking. I believe Aristotle would agree that technology does contribute to this idea of akrasia. Today, most accusations are based upon one’s own perceptions and feelings. While I acknowledge that perceptions and feelings matter more today than they did yesterday, they are still personal and limited, especially when applied beyond oneself and in communal ways. In the past, it would be at great personal risk to apply one’s personal insecurities broadly, and yet today, those expressions seem to be more the norm. Modrak, the author, referenced that a consistent failure to act according to one’s better judgment or for the general good would seem irrational and maybe even criminal. These acts, regardless of their composite, are still moral in nature even if their foundation is more immoral than moral.  Too many of us determine truth according to our own perceptions and feelings with no concern for others or their perceptions and feelings. We often act on these thoughts, and it is this action that makes our thinking practical, but action alone does not determine good or bad in regard to the morality of our actions.  

Determining morality today has less to do with right and wrong and more to do with personal perceptions and feelings. When we use our own perceptions and feelings to determine moral goodness, we are using them as presuppositions—those beliefs that are foundational and guide all our other beliefs—but they remain personal preferences in support only of ourselves. This is problematic. In most cases, they are in direct contrast to our better judgment and to the general good because they are rooted in who we are. The idea that practical thinking is merely the conceptualization of a thought into an action is skewed, and only partially the issue. This, too, is due, in part, to technology. When we use a preference as a presupposition, which we do in social media, when it is actually a preference, we will eventually perceive our preferences as presuppositional thoughts and ideas due to our constant use of them in presuppositional ways. Yet, their sole purpose will still be self-proliferation, which, is, at best, a lack of deference and, at worst, a form of madness.

Let me stop here and explain why I made this logical leap. Acting against one’s better judgement for good is considered moral, but acting for self against what is good used to be considered immoral or amoral, but today, those distinctions have become cloudy. If practical thinking rooted in an individual’s selfish preference now functions as a presupposition, it would be thinking akin to asserting one’s selfish desires as one’s moral foundation, with those selfish desires governing all other beliefs. In the past, we saw selfish actions as evil. It was the villain who was the one who wanted to take over the city for personal gain, but it was the hero who saved the day. Why? Well, it was the hero who acted for the greater good on behalf of the general population at great personal expense. Today, perceptions of actions like these are no longer cut and dry. There is no longer consensus as to their nature.  

According to our nature, our personal perceptions and feelings, as good as they may be, are self-centered and meant to be vetted in community to determine their communal validity before they ever manifest as practical thinking. However, with the onset of technology, more and more perceptions and feelings are finding their way online into like-minded platforms and in like-minded communities. They are no longer vetted in communities by difference, but instead, they are confirmed in online communities of like-minded perceptions and feelings. The dialectic process (thesis – antithesis – synthesis) has all but disappeared in culture, and it is quickly disappearing in academia as well. The vetting process, used in the past to confirm the true from the false, has been replaced with homogenous confirmation celebrations that promote a group’s specific thoughts and ideas as true and right because, in such groups, they are. This is from where the divide comes. Both sides celebrating their thoughts and ideas as true and right.

I see deference, common sense, empathy, and the like developed and refined, in the past, by way of community. Community was necessary because, as social beings, we are meant to live in community with other human beings who will almost certainly be different. We will respect some, dislike others, and befriend others, but we will socialize with everyone and learn and develop inside these percolators of differences found in communities. It is statistically impossible for all our thoughts to be right and true all the time. However, today, we have become isolated, but the isolation I reference is not just a physical one. It has extended into a moral and psychological one, manifesting in forms of moral absolutism or cognitive bias. Living in such moral isolation is living inside one’s own moral rightness in a community of others who share our moral rightness. It is a moral isolation that is reinforced daily through a homogenous community. In this community, individual goals of self-preservation and self-proliferation and those preferences are shared and masquerade as morality. 

In any situation of conflict, the morality of the community will be right because its communal moral focus will always be itself, which makes every decision rooted in the protection and promotion of self. Morality, in this sense, is a priori, innate, and always emanating from within. Living in such a state is living in a created moral reality that is circular, producing more and more of its own morality, which is a vortex of sorts that pulls its members deeper into itself. This is the nature of a cult, but on a more macro-level. It is a belief system in alignment with Kant’s view of morality. That it was rooted in purely rational thought but separate from sensory experience. This view, as we will come to understand, contradicts Aristotle’s views on practical thinking and my views on deference.

This is the context for our next discussion which will focus on the differences between thoughts and perceptions and reason and desire and their relationship with practical thinking and deference. Until then … 

A Deep Dive into Artificial Intelligence

by C. P. Lawrence

A Deep Dive into Artificial Intelligence:

What is Artificial Intelligence (AI)? According to NASA, AI “refers to computer systems that can perform complex tasks normally done by human-reason, decision making, creating, etc.” NASA states that there is “no single, simple definition” regarding AI and that is because it is changing and growing constantly. 

As I speak with people on the topic, I tend to receive two responses: one of fear and one of reckless abandonment. There are those who are extremely concerned about AI and what it will do to us as human beings. Then, there are those who can’t wait to open Pandora’s Box and see all the wonderful benefits waiting to be used. 

In the little research I have done about AI, I have discovered that, in general, there are three fundamental components of all AI Systems. There is Data, which is how a system learns and makes decisions. Without large quantities of data, there are no decisions. There are Algorithms. These are sets of rules systems use to process these large quantities of data. Then, there is Computing Power. AI systems need computing resources to process these large quantities of data through their complex algorithms. As you can imagine, there are needs for large quantities of power to run these AI systems.

As far as the history of AI, the groundwork for the idea began in the early 1900s, but the largest advances are recent. Alan Turing began exploring artificial networks in the 1950s; he published a paper entitled, Computer Machinery and Intelligence, in which he proposed a test of machine intelligence. He called this test the Imitation Game, which eventually became the Turing Test. This was a watershed moment as AL technology began to develop rapidly after this point.

Computer development began with increasing processing speeds in the 70s and 80s, producing faster, cheaper more accessible computers. During this time, the very first AI language was created, but computers were still too weak to demonstrate any kind of intelligence. The 80s were a time of growth and of increased interest in AI, and this was due, in part, to breakthroughs in research, which increased funding opportunities. The 90s produced the first functioning AI systems: the first AI to defeat a world champion chess player, AI robots, AI self-cleaning vacuums, and AI speech recognition software. In the late 1990s and 2000s, there were significant advances in AI. Automation and machine learning were used to solve problems in academia as well as in the real world, which brings us today.

There are AI systems all around us and their use continues to increase daily. Ai is used in law, medicine, education, engineering, science and more. There are enormous benefits to its use. It can solve problems and diagnosis diseases, but like anything else, with the benefits come the detriments. There are detriments, even though I have spoken to several who see none. I have my own concerns, but for today I will just address one: entropy. 

AI systems are created with entropy in mind, but it is the entropy found in thermodynamics. The second law of thermodynamics states that the entropy of an isolated system can only increase or remain constant; it never decreases. As great as AI is, it is still a created system, and it still must deal with entropy. I tend to look at entropy and its relationship with AI from the perspective of physics, which indicates that the tendency of systems is to move towards a greater state of disorder and randomness and not away from it. If I am right to look at entropy’s relationship with AI this way, what does it say about AI’s future? Is it endless? Is it immune from entropy? 

As AI becomes more a part of its own data, and by data, I mean that content which it creates that is added to the data to which it has access, what will happen to its state of entropy? Will it decrease or increase? I believe it will most certainly increase. I do see, in the distant future, an ancestral relationship with its data when its data base moves past a 50% bifurcation point. What I mean by this is that at some point in the future I see AI creating so much data that become part of the data base ( the internet) that it begins to use its own created data to make decisions. Will this matter?

I do think this will matter. What will it do to its ability to think and reason? Here is a harder question, will it be too late? What I mean by that question is will it be too late for us at this future date due to our conditioning and dependence on AI systems? If, at a future date, this ancestral state of entropy is reached and it results in AI systems suddenly providing some false information or some untrue truth, will we be able to recognize this information as false or will we be too far gone? There are hard questions not being discussed regarding AI that need to be discussed. Will we take the time to discuss them or are we too in a hurry to usher in AI as the solution to all our problems. When that day comes, AI will be the least of our worries. Until next time …  

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part IV

by C. P. Lawrence

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part IV

            We have examined deconstructivism, but there is one question that remains: how are we to respond to it? I would suggest that any response begins by, first, coming to an understanding of instability as it is defined by deconstructivism. There are questions that come with any speculation of instability as an organic state of language. What if its organic state was, instead, something else? What if instability was merely the tension of determination? Derrida provided some support for this type thinking when he referred to the openness of instability as “aporia,” describing it as a puzzle or quandary (Jackson & Massei, 2012). What if “aporia” was that which was imposed over meaning by deconstructivism? Nothing is for certain and should not be thought of in those terms.  

Let’s begin this post, instead, with some hard truth; instability is a part of life, but it is a part of life we fight against. No one wants to be unstable, even when it comes to language. We seek clarity not confusion, especially in our communication. What do we do with confusion? We look for ways to clarify it and eliminate it, and yet deconstructivism seems, to me, to seek to keep it. I see it seeking to be the means of clarity. Do I dare go further? I think it goes beyond clarity and seeks to be “the” means of meaning. What other purpose would it have for keeping instability alive, especially in language? Let’s back up a bit and look at what instability does, if left on its own. Simply, it destroys stability. As we have studied deconstructivism, we have referenced its interaction with norms. Instability undermines stability, especially when it comes to stable norms. Derrida advocated that an important part of the process of deconstructivism was to keep asking questions, which is a theoretical device used to keep meaning and language from falling into a sameness, which is never seen as a critical tool of analysis or as positive. Sameness is never welcomed in critical analysis and always viewed with suspicion and as bias. 

Derrida saw both language and thought as living in what he called binary opposition, which he suggested was a confirmation of the instability of language. He saw language relying on opposing concepts like good/evil, true/false and happy/sad to sustain itself. He did not see these as part of the natural state of language but as constructions imposed on meaning and language by human beings. What is language if not a tool of communication for human beings? I do not see language as entity unto itself; I see it strictly as a tool used by human beings to communicate. In my reading of Derrida, I did not get the sense that he saw language in the same light as I see it. He saw these binary oppositions as existing within a dangerous possibility: that one term would be given the privileged status over the other term, thus affecting the natural state and balance of language. He claimed that this privileged status (one term over the other) prevented meaning from “disseminating out beyond its initial intended meaning” in multiple directions, which assumes language is not a tool but an entity unto itself. One question I have regarding binary oppositions is this one: do they not define each other? Is not dark the absence of light? Is not false the answer that is not the right answer? What is the alternative if these binary oppositions are removed? I don’t see them as constructions of human beings but instead, as observations of human beings. Human beings did not create dark or truth or even good. They observed its presence or its absence through, in many cases, its binary opposite.

When it comes to communication, I do not seek to protect two binary opposed meanings, at least not when I am seeking to be clear in my communication. Communication, for me, is determining shared meaning for the purposes of effective and clear communication. It is understanding meaning and embracing the same meaning. Did Derrida see language impacted by context or was he afraid of the impact of context? I am not sure. Derrida claimed to have seen language and thought as indecideable (his word), a term he used to describe meaning as having no clear resolution, which, from my perspective, leaves language in one place … in a state of confusion, which could also be referenced as instability. Is this what he saw or is this what he needed language to be for deconstructivism to grow and thrive? How we see and respond to deconstructivism will do one of two things: it will either feed it or starve it and kill it. 

Deconstructivism if often referenced with terms like unpacking, destabilizing and undermining in regard to its interaction with norms, which it would define those that are stable as assumptions, as binaries and as privileged. These are intentionally negative terms designed, in my opinion, for them to be unpacked or destabilized. But, again, what if the theory of deconstructivism is wrong when it comes to norms? What if instability is not a natural state but instead, one created for the purposes of destabilizing those norms that are stable? If this is the case, then we would need to confirm through a dialectic method whether deconstructivism is viable or not. When it comes to literary theory, deconstructivism operates in literary theory by encouraging us to read literature closely but with skepticism, questioning binary oppositions, resisting final interpretations and embracing ambiguity. When we put all these words together—skepticism, questioning, resisting and ambiguity—what do we get? These words encourage doubt, challenge authority and embrace uncertainty, which could be summed up in one word, instability. The question then becomes does deconstructivism identify instability or produce it? 

Considering this question, I think we must, first, understand deconstructivism for what it is. I am not advocating that it produces instability, but I am say that there does exist a possibility that it does. Therefore, we cannot assume that it does, nor can we assume that it does not. It is important to understand that any disagreement with its principles—its skepticism of fixed meanings, rejection of absolute truth and tendency towards destabilizing established frameworks—if not done critically and constructively will be engaging it in the very manner being criticized and result in confusion or ambiguity, which is exactly what deconstructivism wants and, in many ways, needs. In this series, I have tried to provide a picture of this theoretical position from different angles for the purpose of understanding. Ignorance is offering criticism of that which we do not understand without understanding; analysis is offering constructing critical analysis in a thoughtful, respectful and knowledgeable manner. Back to our question, how do we respond to deconstructivism?

Let’s begin by seeking to understand what we believe and subjecting our own beliefs to the same analysis to confirm whether our beliefs are true or not. So many of us are unwilling to do that but must be willing to do that if we are seeking truth. We must, next, understand that our perceptions, as right and as true as they feel, are only our perceptions. They are not reality or even true, at times. Sometimes they are true and other times they are not. Most of the time they are built and re-enforced by someone else’s perceptions, which should be analyzed as well. For example, I have been advocating in this series in subtle ways that one of the weaknesses of deconstructivism is its lack of focus on the pragmatic reality of communication. To communicate, we need “shared linguistic and cultural frameworks,” and my example of that is language. English speakers do not communicate well in other parts of the world if they are monolingual or unwilling to engage in the language of the region in some way. If they expect everyone to speak English and have a very superficial view of communication, then they will struggle to communicate because they are allowed instability to reign and seek no action to clarify. There are other aspects of communication like culture, attitude, countenance and a willingness to engage and communicate. If none of these are engaged, communication will be lacking and remain ambiguous and confused. That sounds nothing like the state of communication needed to effectively communicate, and yet, that is a practical example, albeit simple, of deconstructivism at its simplest level.   

As we engage deconstructivism, and you will engage it, it will be helpful to you to recognize it. How will you do that? Let’s start with its tendency to blur all distinctions. Not only will it seek to destabilize stable norms, but it will blur clear distinctions which tend to lead to relativism, which is another sign of the presence of deconstructivism. Where do we see this? Right now, the most prominent place we are seeing this is in the blurring of the genders, male and female. This is clear indication of the presence and the impact of deconstructivism, but it is also an opportunity to address deconstructivism’s weakness when it comes to practicality and real-world applications. While there is a blurring of the genders (per deconstructivism) there is not a blurring of the product of this burring, which is contradictory and an opportunity to determine its validity that we need not miss. Again, our response depends on our ability to identify the presence and impact of deconstructivism and then respond respectfully and lovingly to it inside its own theoretical methodology. This means we must understand it, something most of us are unwilling to do. It is helpful and intelligent to read and study both sides of an issue. As difficult as this is to do, to really understand and respond well, we must do this. Another tendency of deconstructivism is its push towards ambiguity, which is not applicable in several vocational situations, especially in areas like medicine and engineering. We should not blindly and emotionally reject deconstructivism outright because of these two examples but use them by applying them back on top of deconstructivism as a means of pointing out weaknesses, gaps and breakdowns and asking questions.

Deconstructivism is a critical theory that is used in academics effectively in micro-situations, but its struggles, like most academic theory, begin when it is applied in culture in real-world macro-situations or used to push an agenda and change behavior. Any theory, good or bad, if applied in similar situations, will produce similar results. We should respond as civilized respectful human beings with a critical eye towards its application in wrong settings to learn more about it and use it to pursue truth. In the right settings, it is effective in rooting out bad theory and paving the way for good theory, but in the wrong settings, it quickly becomes a hammer akin to propaganda used by those with malicious intent to inflict their ideas on others via power, and that is not considered ethical nor critical analysis.  This concludes this series on deconstructivism. I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time …     

Derrida, Jacques. (1988). “Derrida and difference.” (David Wood & Robert Bernaconi, Trans.). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. (Original work published 1982).

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part III

by C. P. Lawrence

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part III

In this post, I jump back into the rabbit hole known as deconstructivism. Let me begin with this statement: the process of deconstruction is not the opposite of anything, but instead, it is a means of instability. This one statement will color everything else in this post. This much I know—deconstructivism is prevalent in our culture. It perceives any control or order outside of itself as detrimental, unnatural and as a threat to itself. It is built to attack all of this for the sake of its own preservation. A word of caution before reading this post … it is longer that usually and that is due to jumping into the world of philosophy. In that world, language’s importance cannot be understated. It is the primary tool through which philosophical thought is communicated, analyzed and debated. I do not plan to go down into the depths necessary to adequately explain language’s importance to philosophy, but I do plan to dig a little deeper than normal. So, let’s get started. 

When discussing deconstructivism or any other philosophical theory, the role of language must be addressed. Language is a communication system that involves words and systemic rules that organizes those words for the purpose of communication. We need language but so does philosophy and its theories. Language, as one of the main forms of communication, is important to philosophy, but before we get into why we need to understand the configuration of language. Language, as a form of communication, has specific components; two of the most important ones are a lexicon and a grammar. A lexicon refers to the words used by the given language. These words have meaning which must be understood to communicate. The grammar is a set of agreed-upon rules used by the lexicon to convey meaning. Without an agreed-upon lexicon and grammar, all communication would be ineffective. Therefore, language is used by philosophy as vehicle of change to deliver its theories and communicate them; deconstructivism, however, took this idea to another level, as we shall see. Over the next several paragraphs, I hope to accomplish two tasks. First, I hope to address how deconstructivism delivered this change, and second, I hope to address the change that was delivered. 

How does deconstructivism deliver change? You have probably already presumed that language was involved in some way, and you are correct. Deconstructivism, like all other theories, uses language as means of delivery, but deconstructivism does something no other theory has done … it goes beyond using it for communicative purposes and challenges its authority, or its grammar, by way of tension. It posited that the natural state of language was not fixed or absolute but unstable and fluid. This one fundamental belief does a lot of heavy lifting for deconstructivism. It provides a posture of change in both the lexicon and the grammar of language. Most philosophers assume a prejudice of general language to justify creating their own language. There are many reasons for this; some pure; some not. My point is that when they do this, they assume control of the language and the power associated with it. Deconstructivism is similar in approach but different in scope. It did create some of its own language, but it did this to control all of language. Language is its means of delivering change, but unlike other theories, the scope of change extends beyond its theory and to all of language and culture. It sought to position itself to be the lexicon and the grammar of all language for the purpose of culture coming under its control. How did it do this? 

It began with an attack on norms. Any past or pre-established norm was considered a threat to deconstructivism due to stability. Deconstructivism posited that stability is not a norm’s natural state but is, instead, a sign that a norm has moved away from its natural state of instability. The first battle began with language. Is there any bigger norm out there? If it could deconstruct language and re-create it in a way under its control, then, nothing was out of its reach. Culture, in many ways, is defined by its norms, and there is no other factor as impactful as language. We may quibble over whether it is a norm or not, but it does color the culture in which it lives. Norms along with language are two of the standards that define culture. If we understand this, we may better understand some of the political battles taking place and why the fight is so intense. What is at stake? The answer is our norms. They define our culture, and they define us. 

Norms are norms because they are behaviors or mindsets considered acceptable by most people of a specific culture despite their own individual beliefs. Norms that are stable define our culture and define who we are, but stable norms are under the constant attack of deconstructivism for one simple reason: stability threatens deconstructivism. Why? We only need to go back to the first paragraph and remember that deconstructivism is not the opposite of anything, but instead, it is a means of instability. Norms that are stable produce consistency, sameness and constancy. Stability is often seen as the opposite of change, and when it comes to human behavior, stability is seen as the neurological basis for consistent habits which involve the stabilization neural information. Stability makes change more difficult, and it makes control next to impossible. For deconstructivism to impact culture, it needed instability to be a norm and then it had to become “the” norm of all norms. How did it do that? It created cultural instability and then became the stability in the instability. Establishing instability as the natural state of language allowed language to be the vehicle of change. It was language that did the work of deconstructivism; it was language that delivered instability to culture. 

Deconstructivism still had to address those norms that were most dominant. Deconstructing any norm requires the general population of the culture in which it lives to embrace the change. Support for a change to something stable will only be accepted if there is initial suspicion of the norm. This suspicion flows out of the instability of the norm, which would have been established by deconstructivism. When a tried-and-true norm is perceived as unstable, our human condition takes over rendering us suspicious of it. We begin doubting it and the other norms associated with it. You have experienced it over the last several years … removing statues of past leaders, attacking the integrity of institutions put in place to protect and serve and even promoting bias and oppression as good. This is how deconstructivism delivers the change it needs to live. It has changed you and me, and it is fundamentally changing culture.   

What change has deconstructivism presented as normal? That one is easy; it is instability. Instability comes in many forms. It is tension and doubt. It is skepticism and isolation. What do these things do to us? Well, they weaken our foundations and punch holes into our existing norms, reducing everything to its lowest form, which makes us doubt everything.  When we do this everything is vulnerable to the dominant idea of the day, which would be, you guessed it, deconstructivism. Norms are not just commonly held beliefs; they are guard rails of the highway we call culture. Removing them does not bring freedom but danger. A culture without norms was what Derrida wanted because he wanted deconstructivism to be the guard rails of culture. He would call such a state the “absence of presence” or the “already-always present,” and he would embrace it because it would be a culture of instability. Derrida would refer to such a situation as “trace” and see it as a means of stripping away the “supposed” contradictions of language, opening it to new “true” meaning. He would call it “the absent presence of imprints on our words and their meanings before we speak about them” (Jackson & Mazzei, 2012, p. 19).

This is deconstructivism in its truest form. It is “the norm” that defines all other norms by pushing every other one to instability while it remains as the lone stable dominant norm. We see and experience it every day. It is present in our media and especially in our government. If you listen, you will hear it. Truth is no longer that which is true, but that which is repeated and situational. Any belief in anything stable is to be challenged because everything must be unstable. The media is no longer the watch dog of the people but the mechanism of manipulation and change. Anything presented as an absolute is attacked, viewed with suspicion and perceived in negative ways for one simple reason: it is a threat to instability. Then, there is suspicion—we have become suspicious of everything. This is the impact of deconstructivism.

Suspicion is only a short path to the cliff of paranoia. Those who are suspicious of everything eventually doubt everything, which is a form of paranoia. What do you trust in culture? What do you know to be true in culture? Are you concerned that there are no longer real answers to these questions? This is deconstructivism. It works by giving everyone access to itself through suspicion brought on by instability. Someone said to me, but we have community, don’t we? We are told that we have community, but what we really have is isolation. Our “community” is no longer in-person but one of technology. We text, tweet, post and email more than we talk in person; that is not community. That is living inside instability and calling it other things: individualism, preference, perception and self-preservation. Make no mistake, these are not elements of community but elements of instability and deconstructivism.

This world of deconstructivism is a strange world. It is a world where everyone is king. The problem is that when everyone is king, no one is king, except the one who made everyone king. We embrace and encourage selfishness. We no longer talk about integrity and honor. Difference is a means to an end, and we have eviscerated any idea of excellence by calling it intolerance. Everyone has become a judge without ever looking in a mirror. Integrity has been pushed aside and replaced by self-preservation and empathy for others has evaporated into the air. Hard work is viewed with suspicion and all forms of submission are labeled as oppression. We choose criticism over encouragement, negativity over positivity, selfishness over selflessness and materialism over minimalism. This is our world. How are we to respond to it? That is for another day and another post. Until then …  

  Derrida, Jacques. (1988). “Derrida and difference.” (David Wood & Robert Bernaconi, Trans.). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. (Original work published 1982).

Deconstructing Deconstructionism: Part II

by C. P. Lawrence

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part II

Looking at the process of deconstruction through the lens of deconstructivism is a bit like looking at the world through the eyes of Alice as she looks at the world through the looking glass; you can see shapes and colors, but nothing is clear. Derrida explained the process of deconstruction in a curious way when he stated that, “[it] acquires its value only from its inscription in a chain of possible substitutions, in what is too blithely called a context” (Derrida, 1985, p.2). Derrida presented deconstructivism as an organic act of creation found inside language, but he also presented it as that which was only determined by the context of its use. It is this one word, “only” that provides deconstructivism its protection, which is its ambiguity. Contexts are different and always changing. If deconstructivism is creation determined by the context with which it interacts inside language, then it is never the same and always evolving into something different. My point is that the process of deconstruction is an action of instability acting on that with which it interacts. This we do know. What we do not know is whether its interaction is an act of imposition or of revelation? 

I would like to suggest that the use of the term “organic” is an intentionally heavy term, and more calculated than not. Derrida claimed that he did not create deconstruction but found it as it was, always “going on around us,” which, interesting enough, was in the same state in which he claimed to have found language and meaning. They both, according to Derrida, were found … as unstable in their natural and true state, which begs the question: is instability their nature and true state? Were they found unstable before their interaction with deconstructivism or as the result of their interaction with deconstructivism? This is an important point because we know that there is instability in the world; what we do not know is whether this instability is organic, manufactured or a combination of both, especially when it comes to language?

Each morning, you and I awake to an unstable world. You can feel it just like I can. I am old enough to remember the stability of the world years ago. Sure, there were issues but there was decency and common sense; there is now tension and instability in their place. Both are now norms, replacing the stable ones of the past. It is disconcerting to me that stability is now perceived as a negative in relation to language and meaning. Words have meaning and will always have meaning. That should never change and yet, it has. In the next several paragraphs, I will present a case that deconstructivism, like its cousins, Marxism and Critical Theory, is intentionally providing the means to deconstruct stable norms and replace them with unstable ones for one reason: power.

Jackson and Mazzei, in their book, Thinking with Theory in Qualitative Research, describe their views of deconstructivism, which are directly linked to Derrida’s views. Jackson and Mazzei quoted Derrida when they wrote, “Deconstruction in a nutshell is the tension between memory, fidelity, the preservation of something that has been given to us, and, at the same time, heterogeneity, something absolutely new, and a break” (Derrida, 1997, p.6). The process of deconstruction is now an accepted part of qualitative research. It creates tension which allows it to be analytical, but it also needs this tension for itself. The process of deconstruction required tension to become an organic part of language, but to maintain this status it also needed man to be perceived as a threat to it because, like every other theory, there will be men and women who challenge it, as there should be.

Derrida thought—and I think he is right on this— that we (human beings) perceive tension as negative and seek to move away from it or eliminate it whenever we can, which would be detrimental to deconstructivism. Derrida understood that, as people, we tend to reject tension and seek stability, especially in our language. This would destroy the process of deconstruction. Derrida wanted tension … he needed tension, and he needed it to be embraced and accepted as a natural part of meaning and language, but he knew that would only happen if instability was language’s true and natural state. Jackson and Mazzei posited that deconstructivism’s presence will be where we find “unsettling,” or a “ruffling” of current normative structures (Jackson & Massei, 2012). This is part of the analytical nature of research, and part of the process of deconstruction, which began as theory, but has now extended into everyday life. Tension and instability, which are part of our world, are presented as evidence of the presence of the process of deconstruction, which I acknowledge, but what I struggle to acknowledge is that both are also presented as evidence of the true and natural state of language. 

What I believe instead is that the process of deconstruction is acting upon language, producing both tension and instability. It would be akin to me making the case that all trees exist in the natural state of being cut down, which I label as downcut. When they stand erect and grow, I label this as an imposed will upon them and not organic to them; instead, their natural and true state is downcut. My evidence in support of my theory is my ability to take my ax and chop down a tree. As the tree falls to the ground, I present it as evidence of the presence of downcut and as evidence of a tree’s natural and true state. Is that evidence of its natural state or of me (downcut) acting upon that tree with my ax? Is this unsettling or ruffling of a stable norm an indication of the presence of the process of deconstruction or is it simply change, adjustment or the imposed will of the process of deconstruction on that with which it is interacting? This is the confusing world of deconstructivism and why it is worth exploring. It is a roller coaster ride with plenty of ups and downs. There is much more to address. Please come back for the next post as I continue to try and deconstruct deconstructivism. Until then … 

Derrida, Jacques. (1988). “Derrida and difference.” (David Wood & Robert Bernaconi, Trans.). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. (Original work published 1982).

Deconstructing Deconstructivism: Part I

by C. P. Lawrence

Deconstructing Deconstructivism.

Deconstructivism, another theory critically aimed at the norms of culture, is a theory that has impacted all of us and yet, most of us have never heard of it. To understand it is, at best, to attempt to understand it because, be warned, it is ambiguous and vague. It is like nailing Jello to the wall; once you think you understand it, it interacts with something else and changes. Deconstructivism is change and difference and criticism and tension all rolled up into what I see as varied disparity. It first appeared in a 1967 book entitled, On Grammatology, and has grown in reference and documentation ever since.

Let’s begin with a quote. Jacques Derrida, in his article, Letter to a Japanese Friend, explained deconstructivism to his friend by insisting that it is “an event that does not await the deliberation, consciousness or organization of a subject or even modernity” (Derrida, 1985, p.2). If this seems a rather odd way to describe an event, you are right, but it is not an event that he is describing; it is deconstructivism. Inside that seemingly innocuous description is affirmation to deconstructivism’s metaphysical reality. Derrida stated to his friend (Professor Izutsu) that to define it or even translate the word “deconstruction” would take away from it, which is a suggestion to its nature and to its protection. How does one disagree with that which cannot be defined or translated? The answer is simple: one does not because one cannot.

Derrida, in my opinion, was stating that deconstruction was a notion of a reality rooted in situational agency. It was designed to avoid the confined corner; to avoid the proverbial box or the closed door and to assert its own agency in interaction with individualism (or context) as a means of truth. According to Derrida, it was and is a critical methodology that analyzes how meaning is organically constructed and deconstructed within language, which we all understand to be the primary means of communication between human beings, and yet it is not language that seems to be under attack. Instead, language seems, to me, to be the vehicle of delivery for deconstructionism.

Let’s be clear; deconstructivism is not a form of Marxism nor of Critical Theory, but it is related to both, although indirectly. The process itself claims to reveal the instability of language, which it presents as language’s true and natural state. Is language unstable or is language, as my cynical mind suspects, being pushed to instability by deconstructionism? I would like to posit a question: if instability were not language’s true and natural state, could deconstructivism determine language’s state or would it, instead, change its state? I am not sure, but I look forward to exploring that possibility and others. I do know this; its existence depends on instability of language and meaning.  

Back to this question, is language unstable? Yes and no! I think language is like anything else; it works from instability to stability. I know I seek clarity in my communication and one of the ways I do that is to ensure that meaning is consistent with those with which I am communicating. How is language unstable? I believe language is unstable if meaning inside language is unstable. How does that instability remain and not work towards stability? One of the methods of maintaining instability is through addition. When other meanings are added to true meaning, clarity is not produced but instead, instability is maintained.  Addition, for me, creates instability, especially when it comes to language. If we have found instability as a state of language and this discovery was the direct result of deconstructivism’s interaction with language, then, there is another more difficult question to consider. Is the instability of language its true and natural state or is it a direct result of deconstructivism’s interaction with language? 

Deconstructivism claims that one of its goals is to push meaning to its “natural” limits and expose its “true” nature which, according to Derrida, is instability heavily dependent on difference (addition). I am not a big fan of coincidences and see them as problematic. Here is my issue. If language is considered unstable in its natural state and deconstruction is instability in its interaction with language, is this a coincidence? Again, I don’t really buy into coincidences. I do know that when instability interacts with stability the results will generally be less stability. We know this through the study of physical systems, biological systems and even social systems. We also know instability manifests in three ways: gradual change, sudden transitions and oscillations, and there is nothing to indicate that when instability is introduced to a stable system, that stable system stays the same or even stays stable. It always changes; at times, stability may eventually be achieved again but not before the system goes through a period of instability. My point is that I am not convinced that the natural state of language is instability. There is a solid case that the instability of language is due, in part, to its interaction with that which is unstable. Are you confused yet? Buckle up because this roller coaster ride is just beginning. This post is the start of a deep dive into the world of deconstructivism. Stay tuned for my next post in this series. Until then … 

Derrida, Jacques. (1988). “Derrida and difference.” (David Wood & Robert Bernaconi, Trans.). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. (Original work published 1982).

Epistemology: Knowledge, Understanding or Both

by C. P. Lawrence

Epistemology: Knowledge, Understanding or Both

Have you ever said, “I do not understand?” I am sure you have, but have you ever thought about what it means to understand? It seems so basic a concept that everyone should understand what it means to understand, but do we? Do we understand in the same way as we used to understand? Is understanding someone the same as understanding something? This post explores understanding through the lens of philosophy.  

It is fascinating to read that this concept of understanding, in philosophy, has been “sometimes prominent, sometimes neglected and sometimes viewed with suspicion,” as referenced in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (SEP), which was my main resource for this post (Grimm, 2024). As it turns out, understanding, or as it is known in philosophical circles, epistemology, differs depending on time frame. Who knew? 

Let me start with the word “epistemology,” which was formed from the Greek word episteme, which, for centuries, was translated as knowledge, but in the last several decades “a case has been made that ‘understanding’ is the better translation” (Grimm, 2024). This is due, in part, to a change in the semantics of the word “knowledge.” That change was prompted by a shift towards observation as the primary means of obtaining knowledge, which is not so much a change in understanding as it is in the semantics of knowledge. But, should that change how we define understanding?

The SEP references theorist Julia Annas, who notes that “episteme [is] a systematic understanding of things” as opposed to merely being in possession of various bits of truth. We can know (knowledge) what molecular biology is, but that does not mean that we understand molecular biology. There is a clear difference between knowing something and understanding something, or at least there used to be. Both Plato and Aristotle, according to the SEP, considered “episteme” as an “exceptionally high-grade epistemic accomplishment”. They both viewed episteme as both knowing and understanding. The Greeks and most of the Ancients valued this dual idea of understanding and yet, according to the SEP, subtle changes in the semantics of the word took place over time, moving the semantics of episteme from knowing and understanding to just knowing, which, in my opinion, allowed observation a more prominent role regarding understanding. The question is, did observation improve our understanding of understanding? 

There are many theories on why this shift in the semantics of understanding occurred, but it did occur. My concerns do not center on the “why”, but instead, they center on the impact of this shift on present understanding. The idea of understanding went through a period in the past where its overall importance diminished and was replaced by the idea of theorizing, which is not understanding but speculation. According to the SEP, theorists throughout history have proposed various theories about understanding, and most theories did two things: they pulled us away from the original idea of understanding and pushed us towards a focus on self. It was self that was understanding’s biggest threat in the past and it is self that continues to be its biggest threat presently.

When I read that understanding was neglected in the past, I struggled to make sense of why it was neglected. Who would not want to understand? It was only when I understood that, at the time, understanding was thought to be primarily subjective and psychological, with a focus more on an understanding that was familiar, that it made more sense to me.  Familiarity is the idea of being closely acquainted with something or someone. Regarding familiarity’s impact on understanding, it pushed it towards self and away from the dual idea of knowledge and understanding. This push mutated understanding into what equates to an opinion, making it foundationally subjective, that is, until it bumped into science. In the world of science, understanding, or as it is often referenced, epistemology, was forced to move away from subjectivity and towards objectivity to interact with positivism, which was foundationally dominate in science until recently. 

According to the SEP, the notion of a subjective understanding inside epistemology was, rightfully, downplayed in the philosophy of science due, in part, to the efforts of Carl Hempel (Grimm, 2024). Hempel and others were suspicious of this “subjective sense” of understanding and its interaction with science. According to Hempel, “the goodness of an explanation” had, at best, a weak connection to understanding, especially regarding real understanding. Hempel’s point was that a good explanation might produce understanding but then again, it might not but it would still be familiar and seem like understanding. That was not objective, which was needed in science. The work of Henk de Regt made a distinction between the feeling of understanding and real understanding. He argued that “the feeling is neither necessary nor sufficient for genuine understanding.” His point, which seems straightforward, was that real understanding had little to do with feeling. Feeling is not scientific nor is it objective. It is always rooted in self, which is not understanding. 

Understanding is thought to be a deep knowledge of how things work and an ability to communicate that knowledge to others. This presented a question: what is real understanding? According to the SEP, there are multiple positions regarding this one question. It is interesting to note the presence of “luck” in positions of understanding, with one position asserting understanding as akin to full blown luck (the fully externally lucky position). This is where I defer from the SEP and dismiss the idea of luck altogether. These positions assert, in subtle ways, understanding as a pragmatic product-oriented method; all that seems to matter is that you understand, which, by all indications, would not be true for true understanding. True understanding is being able to explain to others in detail the understanding you understand. The fully external lucky position is rather pragmatic and contrary to this idea of understanding. It seems to stop at one’s understanding and does not consider that to truly understand, one must be able to pass on the understanding one understands to another. 

The contrasting position argues that one needs to understand in the “right fashion” in the right manner to understand again, and for me, the word “again” is key. In other words, understanding, to be considered as understanding, always needs to be replicated in a way that can be communicated to others so that they understand, and to do that one must understand the process every time and not just one time. The first position, for me, violates the duality of understanding and knowledge. This is important because, for me, it is the duality that completes understanding. To understand a concept, one must know what the concept is and understand how it works. The first position, the fully externally lucky position, blends knowledge and understanding into something that loses the semantics of both, pushing understanding into a pragmatic area where understanding becomes almost tangible, discounting the process in favor of it as product. This is not understanding but a lower form of knowledge. True understanding is always a process that explains how the product became, how the product works and how the products is applied. 

There are those who argue that understanding does tolerate “certain kinds of luck.” These philosophers hold positions that understanding can be “partly externally lucky.” Is it me or does luck have no place in understanding? If luck has any place in understanding, then that understanding is not understanding but a stumbled upon form of knowledge. No one stumbles onto a medical degree nor the knowledge needed for it. Most would not equate this as the proper application of their position, but understanding builds on itself, and if it does that, then, this application is not as stretched as it would seem. I believe the idea of understanding goes beyond the discussion in this post. It is an esteemed element of our humanity. It is who we are as human beings, and a large part of what makes us a human being.  

There are those—and the number grows daily—who no longer value understanding nor want to spend energy doing it. They consider it an antiquated process and no longer needed because we have technology, specifically, we have AI to do all our understanding for us, right? But do we? Does AI help us understand or does it only provide explanations? Are explanations understanding or are they something else? I believe understanding is distinctly human. I believe it is how we interact and build community. Maybe we don’t need to understand chemistry (I think there will always be a need to understand chemistry and everything else.), but we will always need to understand each other because we all are different. 

If we no longer strive to understand the things that we do not know, how will we ever understand anything or anyone? Will we even want to understand in the future if we no longer seek to understand in the present? Will we become conditioned to enjoy being isolated and introverted? That seems sad and not human. This idea of understanding is much more complex than most realize. The issue is not just one of episteme but one of humanity, at least to me it is. Think long and hard about understanding because once you lose it recovering it will not be easy. Thanks for reading! Until next time …   

Grimm, Stephen, “Understanding”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy(Winter 2024 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2024/entries/understanding/&gt;.

Zetetic Philosophy: The Pursuit of Understanding

by C. P. Lawrence

Zetetic Philosophy: The Pursuit of Understanding

I recently read an article about the pursuit of understanding related to Zetetic Philosophy. The term “zetetic” is not a term we often hear or even use, and yet it is an important one. The term is derived from the Greek word “zeteo,” which means “to search or to examine.” Zetetic Philosophy emphasizes the importance of questions and investigation over relying on preconceived notions, facts and assumptions. This sounds familiar but what many do not realize is that most philosophy today begins at a culturally- accepted position, which is preconceived. The article suggested that we should view Socrates as a Zetetic Philosopher due in part to his detailed explanation in the Republic of the ideal type of formal education. This intrigued me, but education is not the reason I read this article; understanding is. 

If you read the Republic (and I recommend that you do), you will encounter the philosopher-kings, Socrates ideal rulers. They are noble and intelligent known by their virtues who think through a certain praxis, thus the moniker philosopher-king. Socrates referred to their thinking process as the dialectic and presented it as a positive form of dialogue that incorporated “arguments in order to achieve a sure and true understanding of reality (Being).” The dialectic was a form Socrates used to test how and why things are the way they are. For Socrates, the dialectic was a method to achieve knowledge, of what he called the “Good-in-itself,” by distinguishing “the good” from everything else. Many see the dialectic as the Socratic Method. They are not one and the same but two different methods. 

The Socratic Method differed from the dialectic, in part, due to the “method of questioning,” which expressed more ignorance than understanding, which seems odd and counter intuitive. Both processed through the antithesis to confirm what is true, but only the Socratic Method embraced uncertainty as a healthy part of the process. In the Socratic Method, the teacher must hold knowledge—know something and give account of that something known—to impart knowledge or lead others in obtaining knowledge. The teacher must master both the knowledge and the method of distribution of the knowledge to move past the stage of personal ignorance to lead others to understanding. This is not a weakness of the Socratic Method but a strength. Read any of Plato’s dialogues, you will find that Socrates was this type of teacher. 

The author suggested that Socrates, as a teacher, had the following characteristics as a teacher: the desired results were met, he had the answers he sought from his students, his method unfolds in a “teleological” manner and his form of knowledge is different than the knowledge associated with the virtues he conceived. This is in stark contrast to Socrates numerous claims of ignorance, but this idea of ignorance is important or else he would not keep using it. In the Republic, Socrates denied several times that he was in possession of a certain kind of knowledge. He stated several times that he knew nothing. What is happening here? Is ignorance an important part of knowing? 

Several authors have pointed out that Socrates sought to be a co-participant in the learning process with his students, even abjuring the moniker of “teacher” as too formal to achieve equal status with his students. Was ignorance a means of this equal status? This is, in some sense, Socrates maintaining a posture of seeking and yearning for wisdom in the same manner as his students. The author implored us not to fall for Socrates trying to present himself as a radical nihilist skeptic but to look deeper, deeper into this idea of understanding as it relates to ignorance. Seeing Socrates as a zetetic philosopher is “antithetic to the philosophical ideal of the philosopher-kings of the Republic who were to lead their city-state towards that which is good and true,” or at least that was their goal?

These philosopher-kings are referred to as echonic philosophers (traditional), and Socrates never claims to be their equal. This idea of echonic philosophy, which these kings are thought to possess, is found in Book VII of the Republic and represents authenticity and proper education which was supposed to provide the possessor of both an ability to grasp what it takes to rule. Yet, the author references Socrates as a zetetic philosopher, which is a philosopher who embraces a a philosophy that is ongoing, dynamic and critical in analysis. It is one with no real answers and instead seeks to continue to inquire. Its understanding is not found in Plato’s forms but grounded in humanity and its limits and finitude. This is an important point regarding the pursuit of understanding. It is a never-ending process that is always fluid, ongoing and never ending. 

The author implies that we must learn from Socrates that real education is based on zetetic philosophy, as this is, according to Plato, a “turning around of the soul” back to itself in an enlightened state. This suggests something more about education and about understanding, especially if we look at the three moments referenced in the zetetic journey found in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. First, there is liberation from bonds, then there is ascent upward to the light and finally there is the return to the cave. These three moments come together to fully express enlightenment or education and understanding. This idea of zetetic philosophy was thought to be that which avoided expecting absolute, irrefutable instances of truth, as if they did not exist. 

The implication is that we must recognize our ignorance and our limitations as human beings first. This is where the pursuit of understanding begins. It does not begin within the knowledge itself, but within us, recognizing first our humanness and acknowledging second our limitations. Therefore, all pursuits of understanding, as hard as this may be to understand, seem to begin within us and not within the knowledge that we seek to understand. Is this the message of Socrates? Does this make sense? I am not sure, but it does force me to do one thing … think and that is always a good thing. Until next time …   

How Do We Know What Is Real?

by C. P. Lawrence

How do we know what is real?

I took a trip back to where I was raised to visit family and friends. It was a wonderful trip but quick and too short, but that is sometimes life. It was good for my soul and even better for my mind. I loved all the conversations I had. I loved listening to how others arrived at their own points of view. Some of us still hold the same values and have adapted to life in some of the same ways. Others hold different values and have adapted to life in different ways. Why? One of the subjects that came up was reality and how many different versions of reality are out there now. As I was driving back home, a question came into my mind—how do we know what is real? —and I could not shake it. 

My standard practice when I get one of these questions is to go poking around those people I respect, read or follow and see what they think. In my latest search, I stumbled upon a reference to an article with an interesting title, so I looked it up and read it. The article was in Psychology Today, which, for me, is not one of my usual references, but the title was too inviting. The article, “How Do We Know What Is Real?” By Ralph Lewis, M.D., was well worth my time and maybe worth yours too. Before I get into the article, let me set some foundational timbers for this post.   

First, let’s be clear; we experience the world through our five senses; that is given. Second, it is best to experience the world with all five of our senses. Most agree on that point as well. It is the way most of us live and we give it little thought. We just do it. Point three: Most theorists would call this experience subjective and question its reliability, but Lewis points out that “subjective perception” is still a crucial source of data for almost everyone. We rely on it every day as we live our lives. Consider science, even its practices and methods incorporate senses, i.e., observation, which is technically considered subjective and yet still a foundationally part of the scientific method. Dr. Lewis writes, “Science is just a method to minimize the distorting effects of our perceptions and intuitions and to approximate a more objective view of reality.” This is intuition and it is and should be greatly valued. You use it and so do I. It is the primary focus of this post. Most professionals use it. They depend on their own “trained” intuition to do their job. Doctors, financial advisors, plumbers, teachers, engineers and many others, all use trained intuition to excel in their vocations. 

But here is the issue I want to focus on; trained intuition is not universal absolute truth nor is it reality. It is a form of discernment that allows us to problem solve. It is assumption and inference developed through our education and training that works with who we are to solve issues. It is also based on our ideology which is a composite of our beliefs and values. This makes it uniquely ours, and it tends to work only for us. But this means that we often see our intuition and as reality. In some respects, it is, but it is not ultimate reality for us. The more success we experience the more egocentric we become, and this puts us in a position to think our reality is everyone’s reality. It never is. Your doctor may have an intuition about why you are sick, but that is the result of his or her interaction with you and your issue. At best, it is a temporary situational reality that works for your current situation, but that is as far as it can go. As Lewis states, “But it [intuition] can be completely off base” and lead even experts astray.” Lewis continues, “We have to be aware that our intuitions and firmly held assumptions may be completely wrong.” This leads me to a question. Where does intuition lie? The answer is the brain. 

The brain is a “well-honed but imperfect virtual reality machine,” according to Lewis. We don’t have a brain; we are a brain. Our brains produce subjective perceptions which are representations of our external world—our very own form of virtual reality. According to Lewis, we can be confident that most of the time these subjective perceptions that our brains produce are faithful representations of our actual external world. Social cues are just one example of our brains making a subjective perception. In most instances, we are right, but I think we have all experienced a time or two when we were wrong. 

Our brains, according to Lewis, rely on patterns, approximations, assumptions and best guesses. Our brains often take shortcuts, fill gaps and make predictions and all of these things are based upon our intuition which flows from those subjective perceptions. Lewis is clear; subjective perceptions are real, but they are not what they seem, even to those of us who own them. The brain is a “confederation of independent modules,” all working together. Lewis writes regarding this, “The vastly complex unconscious neuronal determinants that give rise to our choices and actions are unknowable to us.” 

The brain just works, and it works well due to the subjectivity of our experiences, but, as real as they seem, they are not reality for us, and they cannot be reality for us. The more successful we are the more our tendency will be to think that our reality is everyone else’s reality, which, again, is when we get in trouble. When we push our intuition as if it is reality, then we will think it is reality. When this happens, we merge our intuition with our existing ideology, and they become one. We will always find others who share and reinforce our ideology, then it is our ideology that becomes our reality. This tends to isolate us inside our ideology which becomes our ultimate reality. This is the Land of Oz and not reality at all. This is where real issues arise in the form of narcissism and nihilism.

Lewis goes into mystical experiences and hallucinatory or dissociative experiences to make his point. He posits that these experiences seem so real to those who have them that they believe that they have discovered a transcendental reality. They have not discovered an alternative reality. They have merely experienced the power of a chemical or drug or the power of suggestion. The brain thrives because of subjectivity, but that subjectivity makes it vulnerable to external influences like drugs and persuasion. We would be naive to assume that our subjective perception of the world was anything but that, and yet this is where many are today. There is no longer a concern about doing the right thing, working hard, having integrity, honor or even telling the truth. The only concern right now is for self … to be right. We are in a war of opinions, and everyone is armed with their own editorial comments. The battles wage because the winners get to declare what is true, until the next battle comes, and then, the cycle starts all over again. This is our world today and determining what is real is no longer determining what is true. Our elections have revealed that, have they not? How do we know what is real? I think the better question might be, do we care about what is real? Until we do, we will never determine what is real.

Education, Painted and Soiled: Part V

by C. P. Lawrence

Education, Painted and Soiled:

Part V: True Education 

In 1916, John Dewey referred to education as “a social process—a process of living and not a preparation for future living.” While I think Dewey got many things about education wrong, I think he got this one right. Education is a social process. It is life and for a lifetime, but defining it seems to limit it. Definitions are ends for the means they serve. Education, for me, cannot be put into a box, nor should it be, which suggests that I am engaged in a fool’s errand. Let’s find out. 

Aristotle implied that education was not formal instruction nor was it just knowledge; it was much more, but what was it? For Aristotle, it involved developing both intellectual and moral virtues through practice and experience, and it was for a specific purpose, to produce flourishing human beings. This idea of human flourishing was, for Aristotle, the ultimate telos, i.e., the end goal, for all human beings, but this telos implies something else about education.

In this post, I will look at education from one last angle with the hope that I see something that makes sense to me. I want to look at education from the perspective of how we experience it. One author I recently read referenced Erich Fromm and his distinction between having and being. This is as good of a lens as any other to use. Fromm defines “having” and “being” as modes of existence and as different ways of understanding ourselves, the world in which we live and those living in this world with us.

According to Fromm, “having” is concerned with ownership and possession with a focus on controlling; “being,” on the other hand, is rooted in love and concern with a focus on shared experience and productive activity. Being engages the world while getting seeks to possess and control the world. Fromm saw these as two modes of human existence: the mode of having and the mode of being. The mode of having perceives everything as a potential possession while the mode of being perceives self as the carrier of certain properties and abilities.

Fromm thought “having” emphasized a duality between the owner and the thing owned. It was a view of the world with self at the center and all other things arranged in a circle around self. They are distinct from self and their relationship to self is only through their ownership by self. Being is about those qualities that merge with our existence … skills that belong to us that we can exercise, but these skills cannot be taken from us. They are part of us. They are ours. What Fromm proposed was that we have a choice on how to live. Do we live lives having or being? Fromm emphasized that there was a difference between a society set to live for people or for things. Where did that difference take root? I think you know the answer. 

Looking at education through the ideas of “having” and “being” clarify some things for me. In one sense, education can be something possessed as in, “I have a degree.” In this sense, education is one of those things to be possessed by self. It is part of the circle of stuff surrounding self, but then in another sense education can become part of us in the sense of “being” educated. If education is merely a paper on a wall, then, yes, there is a chance that I could lose that piece of paper, but if I am educated and continue to be educated then I lose nothing and gain everything. 

This approach forces me to confront my pursuit of education. I have been looking at education as something to define, but I have learned that such an approach is misaligned and the pursuit untenable. Education is not a thing to possess but instead it is a part of being, of who we are, or at least it should be. If education is as Dewey says—a social process—then we must treat it as a social process. Education, then, is like other aspects of our social world. It is akin to the interaction of family. It is friendships and courtships. It is an evening with friends, a day at work or even a family vacation. How do we define these things? The quick answer is we don’t because they are part of who we are as social beings. We learn these things over the course of a lifetime, starting as children. We are taught by our parents, progress into school and then into college. We eventually have our own children and start the cycle all over again. 

If education is “being” then it will define who we are more than we care to admit. It is not a neutral process but one that will impact us. In the same way that our parents defined who we are as children, education will have the same impact if we grant it the right. The push to educate your children at younger ages—there are many K4 programs out there—is a push to replace your impact on your own children with an educational one. This impact is masquerading as knowledge, either a core body of knowledge or a survey of chosen content. There is a hidden curriculum inside this content, and that hidden curriculum is this: every teacher and school teach from a perspective of the world which they will present to your children as true and right. Do you know what perspective of the world your school presents to your children as true and right? Many schools will claim that their focus is only on knowledge and content. Well, that is a perspective of the world, is it not? Shouldn’t you be the one who defines what is right and true for your four-year-old?  Do your beliefs and values align with the beliefs and values of the school your children attend? These are good questions to have on your mind when considering educational choices.

As I close this series on education, let me sum up what I have learned. First, education is not just content. It is so much more and no matter how hard we try to make it just about content, it will never be just about content. Two, education is not one dimensional. It is multi-dimensional, and it is always social. Aristotle presented the idea that education is about the posture of wisdom, heath and morality and a lifetime of movement, and there are implications if he is even a little right. Third, the foundation of education is morality whether one cares to admit that or not. Fourth, education will change culture. If we do not understand this aspect of education, then we are doomed to be overrun by those who do. To change culture, you must gain control of the schools. History tells us that there are many who have understood this and used this understanding to their benefit. Fifth, with great wisdom comes great responsibility. One does not gain education for only knowledge’s sake. Education provides power. Finally, education is a social process. It is akin to life and something we should engage for our entire lives in a manner akin to friendships, marriages and families. We work at these over the course of our lifetimes. We should do the same in our educational interactions. 

There is much more to address inside this topic of education, but for me, this concludes this series on education. Remember, thinking matters and so does education. Until next time …   

Education, Painted and Soiled: Part IV

by C. P. Lawrence

Education: Painted and Soiled

Part IV: More of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics  

A clearer picture of education is beginning to emerge. One that is more removed from current views, which is not really a surprise. As I dig a little deeper into Aristotle’s views, I must confess that I have not been Aristotelian for much of my life, but in the later years, I have seen the errors of my ways and come to him. It is projects like these that add to my appreciation of him and his work. 

I begin this section with a quote. Aristotle, in his Metaphysics, wrote, “It is through wonder that men now begin and originally began to philophise … he who wonders and is perplexed is ignorant; but, to escape ignorance [that] men studied philosophy.” The word “escape,” in this instance, is an infinitive which binds itself to ignorance. Ignorance, in this quote, is presented as that which is common, normal, pedestrian and functions more as a trap. The takeaway is that ignorance, to Aristotle, required escape; without escape, every human being was vulnerability to its enticement. Wonder, however, was a door away from ignorance and to philosophy, but be warned, Aristotle understood that wonder would perplex us, especially without philosophy (education). It would become ignorance which would be there waiting to ensnare us if education were not our guide; it would always be waiting for us, to settle, to take the easy way out, to be stagnate—it would always be there to accommodate us if we ever left education. Nothing much has changed.  

Aristotle believed that philosophy (education) was the love and pursuit of wisdom, which destroyed ignorance which he saw as temptation in the forms of apathy and sedentary. It was philosophy (education) that was different, but it required pursuit which was proactive action on the part of the human being. It suggested that the nature of education was fluid and active and not stagnate and sedentary. It would have to be pursued and it would demand our work and commitment. Wonder was the key to all of this; it would draw us deeper into the process. It would be there when we were weary or tired. Wonder was always the beginning, suggesting something important. Wonder was the antithesis of ignorance. It was protection and philosophy’s beginning but never its end. We wonder and risk ignorance the moment we stop. Wonder is also education in every sense of the word. It is wonder that prompts us to know. It is wonder that keeps us knowing and learning. Aristotle considered wonder necessary for both the learner and the teacher.

Aristotle saw the process of instruction as rooted in thinking and learning. It was a series of steps that must be taken by both the instructor and the learner with wonder as the first step in each series. To begin instruction, wonder must be present. It was necessary and if not present, the teacher was to create it for the learner must enter the learning process with curiosity (or wonder). But both the teacher and the learner were responsible for the own posture, and part of their postures was always to be wonder. Both were to enter the encounter curious as to what awaited them. They were to be eager in anticipation of the things they would learn. They were also to understand that they needed each other, and that education could not happen in isolation. It isolation it would always be limited.   

Aristotle’s second step, “individualized” instruction, rested in his belief that each student harbored unique talents, interests and preferences, which demanded a personalized approach to learning. For education to take place, the teacher had to know the learner, but the learner had to know the teacher and had to want to know the teacher. He posited that curiosity, critical thinking and individual inquiry in a student must all be reinforced through the personal guidance and support of the teacher. The role of the teacher was crucial to the success of the student, but the teacher’s role was tied to the learner’s attitude and posture. If the learner did not enter the interaction curious, ready to learn and seeking to know the teacher then the teacher’s role was limited. Education was threatened and ignorance was possible.  

His third step is more well known, The Socratic Method. Aristotle borrowed this concept from Plato and expanded on it. It is a cooperative form of dialogue based on thought-provoking questions and guided reflection thought to produce meaningful learning outcomes. Aristotle encouraged open dialogue between students and teachers for purposes of collaboration and discovery, but they were not to be equal participants. They must respect each other and their respective roles. It was up to the teacher to walk the learner through a process rooted in rigorous debate, which exposed erroneous reasoning leading to deeper understanding. The process was continuous and balanced, and it required both the learner and the teacher to embrace it and respect it.   

The fourth step was theory and practice. For Aristotle, the two came together as one. As I have referenced, he believed that for learning to happen theoretical knowledge and practical application must interact. He saw understanding as requiring both. He wrote, “For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them, e.g. men become builders by building and lyre-players by playing the lyre.” Aristotle often encouraged his students to apply theoretical concepts to practical problems because he believed, in doing so, his students would develop practical wisdom, improve critical thinking and become better problem solvers. For Aristotle, doing was as important as listening and studying. Process was important and could only be learned by doing repeatedly.   

Aristotle believed in many formats and methods. His lectures were thought to be littered with quotations, references, examples and images as he acknowledged the power of enhancing understanding through additional means. His goal was always to engage his students in the best possible ways, and he was always seeking new modes of engagement. As Aristotle taught his students, he understood that learning extended into the cultivation of virtue and morality in students. He sought to nurture individual virtues through his teaching. He believed that to live a fulfilled life we must be morally upright and virtuous. We must put these virtues into practice, or we could not be considered educated. He wrote, “These virtues are formed in many by his doing the actions … The good of man is a working of the soul in the way of excellence in a complete life.”

Aristotle was always faithful to what he called “the mean.” The mean was a balanced approach to life. It was not being over strenuous or excessive nor overly simplistic, superficial or sedentary. His answer was living a life of “harmonious balance,” which he saw as wedded to learning. The Mean or, as it has also been called, the Golden Mean, is moral behavior between two extremes: excess and deficiency. As people, he thought the proper way to live was to find a moderate position between two extremes and live that position to the best of our ability. Aristotle saw right living as living morally upright, which was to live a life faithful to the mean. 

According to Aristotle, education was that which equipped human beings to live such morally upright faithful lives. Education, to provide the means to live such a life, had to be active, moving and an active pursuit. It was not easy, not stagnate and not reactive but it was intentional. It was a process that rested with the learner and the teacher, and both must enter the interaction willing, fully committed and exerting ample effort or very little learning would take place. Virtue, morality, personal responsibility … all of these were important parts of education to Aristotle and marks of an educated life.

I have found that this idea of education is not simple. It is more complex than imagined but it is well worth my efforts and time. Until next time … 

Education, Painted and Soiled: Part III

by C. P. Lawrence

A Portrait of Aristotle

Part III: Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics  

In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle presented four principles that I believe clarify his thoughts on education and provide more information in my quest to discover what education truly is. It was Aristotle’s belief that through these four principles human beings think and learn and would think and learn “all the more.” A picture of what education is supposed to be is beginning to form. Let’s get started. 

The first principle he called Anamnesis, which loosely translated means reminiscence or recollection. In the Greek, it is literally “a calling to mind.” As a concept, it suggested that we acquire knowledge externally, but we also have it inherently within us. Both were important and both were meant to interact with each other. Therefore, processes of introspection and reflection were considered important as both were manifestations of this interaction. These processes today are considered higher ordered thinking, but to Aristotle, they were foundational and necessary to all learning. Anamnesis, for Aristotle, was many things but it was primarily for the sake of remembering; he also thought it had secondary uses, as also that which facilitated, perceived, imagined, thought and understood. The proper aim of Anamnesis was the establishment of a truthful relationship between the representation (present) and the represented (past) through the interaction of the external and the internal leading to “the” truth. 

The second principle was termed Experience, which was thought, by Aristotle, to be required for understanding. A person with experience was one who had acquired external knowledge through interaction over time with one’s environment. It was one who engaged in the education for life. Experience was also that which developed coping skills, an appropriate attitude and a sense of the situation. Experience, to Aristotle, was not a knowledge of universals that could be memorized and applied but instead it was a knowledge of particulars, specifics, much like theories or axioms, regarding the way the world work. Aristotle saw culture and the environment through a lens of particulars and not universals, which speaks to his views on both. Experience, for Aristotle, took the form of the recognitional and the practical. It was not one over the other; it was both. He saw experience as compatible with general facts and was clear; understanding cannot be obtained through reason (inherent) alone; it required more. This idea of experience was not limited to the cognitive (inherent); it also required the engagement of one’s entire being (external), and the interaction of the two. 

The third principle was habituation (ethos). This is an important principle as it reflects Aristotle’s belief that we are what we repeatedly do. Aristotle believed that learning, like life, was a process that was active and moving. He argued that virtuous behavior—he saw life as needing to be lived in virtuous ways— was not just something learned, a good idea or even an intellectual pursuit; it was living through consistent practice, moral training and learning, which he thought required intentionality. We live according to what we believe, and we tend to act according to those beliefs with intent. There is personal responsibility applied to each of us and it flows out of our intent. This idea of intentionality was prominent in Aristotle’s thoughts on education and in his other areas of study as well. Believing alone was not sufficient; reactions and feelings were not sufficient. According to Aristotle, we must be actively engaged with and ultimately embody the values we believe. We must live them and be them or they do not exist in us and are not us. They instead become items we carry like luggage and apply situationally. Values alone without consistent application were more emotion than education, more ideas than virtues. To be educated, Aristotle believed one must live that which they believed, which he saw as living virtuously. The implication was that if we did not live the values we believed, then we did not really believe them or worse, they were not worthy of emulation. Living a life without virtues was living uneducated, less civilized and more barbaric.  

The fourth and final principle was practical wisdom. Aristotle believed that sound judgment and ethical decision making are the products of a synthesis of theoretical knowledge and real-world application. Practical wisdom was the manifestation of being an educated being. This was a blend of the cognitive (inherent) and the physical (external) coming together in the form of experience, which Aristotle saw as habitation manifesting as deliberation. This was education to him. Deliberation is long, conscious and careful consideration; it is applying those principles that you believe are true and right, that you have become convinced over time through scrutiny and analysis are true and right. Practical wisdom requires deliberation to discover the best course of action for a given situation. It is not a reaction or a quick decision. Deliberation was the result of the first three prior principles applied in full. To deliberate, Aristotle believed, was to function as an educated person.   

As I examine Aristotle’s ideas on education I see a balance between two conflicting concepts: theory and practice. Aristotle believed that true education required engagement with knowledge inherent (internal and a priori) and knowledge external (experience) to become wise, but dwelling only in one area or the other was not wisdom to Aristotle. Wisdom was a balance between the two; knowing something was not the same as living the something that you know. We find these same beliefs present in his ideas on pedagogy. He believed teaching required personalized instruction, active engagement, and the cultivation of wisdom; all focused on the learner and not the teacher and yet, he considered the teacher vital to the learning process. 

To many of us, these concepts are strange. Our perception of education is as a door. Education is the key that unlocks that door and on the other side of that door is a wonderful world of opportunities that await us. But that is not the picture that Aristotle paints. Education for him, was much different. It seemed more like maturity or growth, more a norm than a privilege. It seemed to be something common and necessary to human beings much like food and water. It was individual but for the sake of community. It was almost as if community would not happen without it. There is more to explore and discover as this quest for the origins of education continues. Until next time …