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Name: Patrick
Country: United States
State: Michigan
Metro: Ann Arbor
Gender: Male
Interests: Friendship, love, writing, psychology, physics, philosophy, ethics, science, photography, art, gaming, technology, computing
Expertise: My skills are primarily in writing, science, and mathematics, though I have a knack for Latin, I'm pretty good at painting and photography, and I'm not atrocious at drawing, singing, or composing. Not much of an athlete, nor do I care to be, though I do try to stay fit and eat right. I'm still working on that whole relationship business. Love is hard to find.
Occupation: Student, Researcher, Author
Industry: Literature, Science, Education
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
5/3/2005
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| This has not been a good semester for
me. I suffered H1N1 influenza, I experienced a relapse in my
depression and migraines; I have been getting mediocre grades (Bs and
Cs instead of As); I've done basically nothing on my honors thesis
after being completely discouraged by a lack of support from
professors.
It could just be luck: The infection
and subsequent recovery triggered my depression, which triggered my
migraines; the combination of the three and the resulting loss of
attendance and focus has damaged my academic success. I have
ambitious research plans that are difficult to achieve, and I
reasonably expected better support in my research than I actually
received; thereby I became discouraged.
But it could also be subconscious or
semi-conscious intentions on my part. I stand before a crossroads in
my life, with many options laid out before me. I could go on to
graduate school; I could join the Peace Corps; I could seek a
teaching fellowship; I could combine these things through Peace Corps
Master's International; I could take a year off to finish my book;
and there are thousands of other options I might sometimes be tempted
to consider but would generally consider less viable.
And in the face of all these options,
I am afraid, or anxious,or
some similar aversive emotion. I fear that I will make the wrong
choice, or that I won't be given the opportunity I deserve. I feel as
a tiny kayak on a fast and forking river, trying desperately to
choose my course as I am swept ahead. I feel that I need time to
consider these options, time to reflect upon my true goals and
aspirations, time to plan my future. And yet I am not being given
this time; the hours and days and months carry me relentlessly closer
to graduation.
"Life
is what happens when you're busy making other plans" said John
Lennon, and a month later he'd been murdered. I am continually
reminded of this thought, because it is so troubling to me. I don't
want my life to be so random, so far beyond my control.
I
want time to think about what I want to do in my life; I want time to
develop deeper theories of the Hard Problem; I want time to write my
books. I want to shunt a log across the river so that I can plan my
course.
I'm
not sure this is a reasonable desire; life goes on regardless of what
we want. Yet at the same time, I see so many people around me with no
plans, no dreams, simply carried forth into lives in which they will
ultimately be unhappy and unfulfilled. Worse, even if they are happy,
they are unlikely to achieve great good in the world; some might be
satisfied with helping only those near to them, but I feel a deep
drive to achieve something great, something lasting. In order to do
that I need to seriously reflect upon the best path for myself.
Perhaps
I should take the next semester off? That's the closest I can see to
shunting the river. I could spend the winter of 2010 reflecting, then
come back in 2010-2011 to finish my degree. This feels unappealing to
me... I think this is primarily because it seems "weak" or
like "surrender". I feel as if I am giving in to my
anxiety—or even to my depression. I am "losing" some sort
of "battle".
Alternatively,
with significant effort I could psych myself back to full potential,
finish my degree in time. This latter plan raises additional
questions: Should I cancel my honors thesis? What should I do after
graduation—and shouldn't I be applying to these things now?
Increasingly
I'm thinking time off is warranted. I'd need to make sure that I use
the time—that it isn't just
wasted—but I think I could do that. The sense of "weakness"
or "surrender" increasingly seems a poor reason for
choosing a particular direction in my life. Indeed, I feel a sense of
relief simply from proposing the option: Even if I ultimately decide
not to do so, I have found a way to shunt the river. Will my parents
be disappointed? Will others think less of me? Possibly—though not
necessarily. And even if I make the wrong choice, there will be time
to change that decision—many people change careers well into middle
age. I could stay on this path now and change later.
Yet
this is my life, and my life's direction that I am trying to decide.
I want to do it right the first time. My autonomy here is not
negotiable. In the absence of some foolish fantasy of divine destiny,
autonomy in planning our lives is essential to fulfillment. Achieving
what I want means knowing what
I want and planning appropriately. I should not sacrifice that
autonomy for the sake of some mild and transient disapproval.
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| First, it proved that the local chapter of the Center For Inquiry has odd taste in events---why a political scientist to dissect New Atheism, and a miniscule promotion campaign that only attracted CFI members and a few from the SSA?
Second, it reprised much about what I despise about criticism of the New Atheists. "You're too angry! You're too strident! Why can't you be nicer?" The speaker even began by accusing the New Atheists of being the "New Dogmatists"---he in fact proceeded to use the word "dogmatic" to describe at least three separate phenomena: first, angry dismissal of obviously false beliefs ("New Dogmatists"), second, strongly held belief without sufficient evidence (the usual definition), and third, violent militancy for ideological causes (Marxist, Islamist, Maoist dogma; what we'd usually call "fanaticism"). The third is obviously terrible, and the whole point of the New Atheists is to point out that the second is almost as bad; but to then place us in the same category, simply because we're a little "aggressive"? This is an inversion of morality that rightly angered me.
But speaking of my anger, Ewan pointed out to me that I may have become too angry in the discussion. My raised voice (though I note I never used profanity, name-calling, or really anything but logical argument delivered with vocal emphasis) may have been off-putting to some, in this case and perhaps in others as well. For all the absurdity of comparing Richard Dawkins to a suicide bomber, there was a kernel of truth in the speaker's argument---namely that perhaps our anger, however justified, might be hurting our ability to persuade. In my own case I know I anger easily when faced with foolishness, and I think this probably describes the "stridence" of Dawkins and Hitchens as well.
It's not that I get angry at those who disagree with me: Propose a competing theory of the Hard Problem, or disagree about the best approach for resolving global warming, or even debate with me about the proper time in gestation to allow abortion, and I will be civil and rational. But try to claim that there is an invisible immortal soul, or that global warming is a myth, or that zygotes deserve full human rights, and yes, I'll raise my voice at you. Some ideas are just wrong, and like Dawkins and Harris and Hitchens, I am sick of stupid ideas being respected and considered on equal terms with obvious facts.
On the other hand, it may not be working. Perhaps a calmer approach would be better. Then again, when have calm logical arguments changed history? Maybe outrage is precisely the proper response, both in principle and in practice.
I certainly don't see a lot of evidence to the contrary.
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| I couldn't have said it better myself, so read it there: it's the God Conundrum.
| | |
| Philosophers are quite promiscuous in
their usage of the word "orthogonal".For instance: Daniel
Dennett writes in Freedom Evolves that free will and
determinism are orthogonal. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
article on "Moral anti-realism" has a section arguing that
subjectivism and relativism are orthogonal. Accommodationists toward
religion will often claim that science and religion are orthogonal.
What these philosophers seem to mean
is that the concepts are independent,
that when one changes it is not logically necessary that the other
change as well. This is no doubt correct; but orthogonal is
a far stronger notion than this, one which has not at all been
demonstrated.
Two
vectors are (linearly) independent if
they are not parallel or antiparallel; similarly, two concepts are
independent if they are not perfectly correlated or anticorrelated.
Determinism and free will, subjectivism and relativism, science and
religion, are surely independent.
But
two vectors are only orthogonal if
they are perpendicular, if they share no linear components
whatsoever. Similarly, two concepts should only be considered
orthogonal if they are completely uncorrelated.
This is difficult to find in nature, though it does occur---typically
in completely unrelated domains. Belief in free will is basically
orthogonal to theoretical claims about dark matter.
Clearly
determinism and free will are not completely
uncorrelated---in theory and in
practice beliefs about determinism are closely connected with beliefs
about free will. Similarly, subjectivism and relativism are closely
correlated, and belief in science and belief in religion are strongly
anticorrelated (hence, 95% of the National Academy of Sciences is
atheist or agnostic).
It's
not a big deal, I suppose; but I think more consistent usage might
alleviate some confusion. When one person says "orthogonal"
and another objects that the two concepts aren't completely
unrelated, and the first
responds that this isn't what he meant... basically the two are
talking past each other until both can agree about what "orthogonal"
really means.
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| We all feel them, we all think we know what they are... but what are emotions, really?
Are they cognitive states? Are they physiological reactions? Perceptions? Behaviors? Motivations?
I know when I am angry or I am sad---indeed I know so deeply no one could ever convince me otherwise---but what exactly does that say about me?
It seems to me that emotions are in fact what makes a sentient being; while a car or a rocket ship could be outfitted with sensors that detect outside objects (perception) or detect damage (sensation), we would not say it actually sees or suffers. But if such a vehicle could be made to feel emotions, to actually hurt when it was damaged, it would seem to me much more like a real sentient being. Similarly if I look at an injured squirrel or even an injured fly, the motions it makes suggest to me that it doesn't like this experience, that it is hurting in some emotional way. The empathy I feel for these creatures is not due to their cognitive processing or their perceptual acuity, but due to their display of emotional experience.
Yet if I stop to think about just what "emotional experience" entails, I really can't say. The way I observe it in a squirrel or a fly is in particular behaviors, but these are behaviors that could be easily simulated by a robot or a computer program. In my own brain emotions are accompanied---perhaps even caused---by particular patterns of electrical and chemical activity; but it seems deeply perverse to say that emotion just is a particular chemical, that the essence of anger is C8H11NO3. Indeed it seems obvious to me that other beings---perhaps aliens or AIs---could experience anger without anything remotely like this chemical acting within them; for an ammonia-based lifeform perhaps anger is CO2; for a silicon AI perhaps it is 1011101110101010001011101.
I don't have an answer. But I think we need one. I think emotional experience is central to what it means to be conscious, and without an understanding of emotion I do not think we can have a coherent theory of cognitive science.
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