Morality and Intellectual Incoherence - last of a series
In the early part of the 19th century, John Keats lodged a protest against what he saw as the cold science of Isaac Newton for “unweaving the rainbow” and draining the wonder from the natural world. One hundred and seventy five years later Richard Dawkins issued a rebuttal of sorts with his book Unweaving the Rainbow: Science, Delusion, and the Appetite for Wonder.
Both Keats and Dawkins, I think, missed the point. Our pleasure in the rainbow is not necessarily less for understanding the prism effect. I would go so far as to say that the more we know about material phenomenon, the more our wonder increases. The heart of this particular darkness lies elsewhere.
Derk at Mind Floss said this:
So what? Only this: If we conclude that there is nothing beyond us, that nothing exists outside of physical objects and the abstractions that describe them, it means that we just happen to being making our way through a highly improbable world with moral beliefs that, though existing for a reason of sorts, float – untethered to any real meaning or value - in our minds.
This is a profound conclusion and profound conclusions have profound consequences. Once we accept this conclusion as viable, three paths are presented to us: 1.) We accept it and fully embrace it, 2) we accept it but act as if we really don’t – we live a lie, or 3) we believe that the final truth of these matters is beyond our grasp and we defer to a higher power. Few follow the first path since people like Dylan Klebold, Eric Harris, and Pol Pot are probably already there. Most everyone who accepts the darwinian worldview ambles down the second path. They say things like “this world is sacred” (Dennett) or “there is a difference between the way we know the world is and the way we know it ought to be” (Dawkins) and leave it at that. They then occupy themselves with beating to death the ‘illusions’ of the people on path three, using their own as club.
It is easy for a child to pretend to be a fireman. The excitement, the noise, the heroics, are the stuff of childhood fantasy. He’s not concerned with (even if he is aware of) the reality of the job – long hours of boredom, short moments of panic, low pay, and the horror of having to confront charred bodies and bereaved victims. I think that if one follows the second path, he is like the child pretending to be a fireman, but I am inclined, like Samuel Clemens, to draw down the curtain of charity on this scene. Just don’t yank it back up unless you want it to stay up. I am pleased to read the books of Dawkins and Dennett about the charms of natural history and the very interesting ways our minds operate, but I ask that they spare me the chimera of their illusions being better than somebody else’s because they are ‘scientific’.
In the early part of the 19th century, John Keats lodged a protest against what he saw as the cold science of Isaac Newton for “unweaving the rainbow” and draining the wonder from the natural world. One hundred and seventy five years later Richard Dawkins issued a rebuttal of sorts with his book Unweaving the Rainbow: Science, Delusion, and the Appetite for Wonder.
Both Keats and Dawkins, I think, missed the point. Our pleasure in the rainbow is not necessarily less for understanding the prism effect. I would go so far as to say that the more we know about material phenomenon, the more our wonder increases. The heart of this particular darkness lies elsewhere.
Derk at Mind Floss said this:
The properties of water are not obvious from the properties of hydrogen and It is not clear to me why the moral domain can’t find its justification right here, in this world. Hydrogen is not wet. Oxygen is not wet. Yet when they are combined in the right combination, wetness emerges. Viewed in isolation, atoms, mass, and velocity may be amoral, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that morality is not a product of their combined effects.The properties of water emerge from the atomic properties of hydrogen and oxygen. True. Morality can also be said to be a product of the combined effects of physical phenomenon. Again, true, but only in the sense that throwing a dozen darts can result in a dozen bullseyes (or any other combination of results). The properties of water are written into the atoms of oxygen and hydrogen, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together in the molecule of water. Unless thwarted by temperature, pressure, or some other condition, it will always be so; you will always end up at the same place. If you rewind the tape of evolution will you end up at the same place with the same ‘morality’? Unless morality is a real, though immaterial, thing like a circle or a line segment, no. So although morality (in the Darwinian view) is the product of combined material effects, it is fundamentally different than the combined effects that lead to water.
So what? Only this: If we conclude that there is nothing beyond us, that nothing exists outside of physical objects and the abstractions that describe them, it means that we just happen to being making our way through a highly improbable world with moral beliefs that, though existing for a reason of sorts, float – untethered to any real meaning or value - in our minds.
This is a profound conclusion and profound conclusions have profound consequences. Once we accept this conclusion as viable, three paths are presented to us: 1.) We accept it and fully embrace it, 2) we accept it but act as if we really don’t – we live a lie, or 3) we believe that the final truth of these matters is beyond our grasp and we defer to a higher power. Few follow the first path since people like Dylan Klebold, Eric Harris, and Pol Pot are probably already there. Most everyone who accepts the darwinian worldview ambles down the second path. They say things like “this world is sacred” (Dennett) or “there is a difference between the way we know the world is and the way we know it ought to be” (Dawkins) and leave it at that. They then occupy themselves with beating to death the ‘illusions’ of the people on path three, using their own as club.
It is easy for a child to pretend to be a fireman. The excitement, the noise, the heroics, are the stuff of childhood fantasy. He’s not concerned with (even if he is aware of) the reality of the job – long hours of boredom, short moments of panic, low pay, and the horror of having to confront charred bodies and bereaved victims. I think that if one follows the second path, he is like the child pretending to be a fireman, but I am inclined, like Samuel Clemens, to draw down the curtain of charity on this scene. Just don’t yank it back up unless you want it to stay up. I am pleased to read the books of Dawkins and Dennett about the charms of natural history and the very interesting ways our minds operate, but I ask that they spare me the chimera of their illusions being better than somebody else’s because they are ‘scientific’.
