Category Archives: Humanities

The Thinker. The Box.

Samhain                          Waxing Wolf Moon                          Holiseason

It’s easy to get stuck in the way we approach problems and problem solving.  That famous box we all want to think outside of only illustrates the consensus that most of would not know the box we were in if we saw it.  The web offers several different ways to jar our thinking out of its rut and onto new superhighways.

In this post I want to point you toward five websites that I’ve come across in the last year that have jarred me out of old patterns and presented new, surprising paradigms.

Grain

The new concept for me:  agro-imperialism.

GRAIN is a small international non-profit organisation that works to support small farmers and social movements in their struggles for community-controlled and biodiversity-based food systems.

VerticalFarm

New concept:  just as it seems, vertical farms for urban areas and other sites.

Bio-Physical Economics

New concept for me:    ” the vision of the Earth as a thermodynamically closed and nonmaterially growing system, with the human economy as a subsystem of the global ecosystem. This implies that there are limits to biophysical throughput of resources from the ecosystem, through the economic subsystem, and back to the ecosystem as wastes. ”

Mega-Regions

Not as new idea for me, but expressed in an up-to-date form, mega-regions notes that various areas of the US are joined by geography and economics into areas larger than states.  This has implications for many of the important policy matters facing us today.

TED

Riveting talks by remarkable people, free to the world.   Their tag-line says it.  These are video clips, none more than 15 minutes long by break through thinkers in multiple fields.  They come together at TED conferences and give these speeches, limited to 15 minutes to 6,000 or so fellow innovators.

Curiosity

Fall                                   New Blood Moon

“Curiosity is one of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.” – Samuel Johnson

That may be, but I can tell you from experience that it can also lead one astray.  Since I was old enough to trek off to the library on my own, I’ve followed so many different paths, walked so many ancientrails.  The problem is this.  Each one leads to another one, or, somewhere in the midst of searching for material on liberalism I might find a remark about Greek ideas about justice.  That leads me in thought back to the Greeks, but instead of pursuing Plato I may wander off to the Iliad or perhaps to the  idea of the classics in general which might push me over to Ovid or, aware of the vast chasm between our Western knowledge of the Greek classics and any knowledge of the Asian equivalents I might get shunted off to, say, Confucius or Lao-Tse.  By that time I may recall a tour of Asian art I have on October 16th, feel a slight twinge and decide to  prepare for that.  And, where did all this start again?

This sort of meandering (I have seen the Meander River which gave rise to the Greek symbol so often seen in decorative arts.) does accrete knowledge.  It’s a slow process and the linkages may not become apparent for years, but I find now that associations, not obvious ones, come more easily.  Perhaps all those ancientrails had secret or frequent intersections that were not apparent the first or even the second or third times I used them.  I’m not sure, but there is a richness to thinking now that I don’t believe I had access to when I was younger.

Any of you have a similar experience?

More on the Humanities

Fall                             Waxing Blood Moon

Walked the fence today, checking for limbs, plants I’d missed.  Sure enough, about a third of the way around a large fallen tree branch pressed against the chain link shorting the fence and creating a hissing, popping sound when nudged.  The air smelt of burnt plastic fibers.  A visit with the chain saw fixed that problem.  Later on I tightened up the rope from a place where it had sagged.  After turning the fence off of course and putting Rigel in her crate.

This fence is a great metaphor, but for what I’ve not yet discerned.

On a topic close to my heart a professor of English for forty years wrote this essay:  The Decline of the English Department. Mr. Chace places yet another shot across the bow of careerism and the practical major while trying to suss out just what went wrong.  He puts his finger on the fragmentation of the humanities into gender, race, media and technology studies as well as the lack of passion for books and the traditional humanities.  In general I appreciate a man who takes responsibility for the dismal thing that has happened and I like Mr. Chace’s posture in this piece.

While I would like to blame the victims, too, the politically wracked departments attempting to right ancient wrongs in scant years by creating university departments, I find it lets off the hook the real culprit.  A relentless scanning of the horizon for opportunities to make money without regard to the social or environmental costs lies at the bottom of this debasement of education.

Crass instrumentalism has invaded every aspect of our lives.   Witness the prosperity gospel.  The growth of the mega-church. The new business orientation of medicine where patients are now consumers and doctors employees.  The rank greed filleted for all to see as the great economic crisis unfolded last fall.  The loose expansion of credit with fine print so dense not even its creators understood it.  Partisan politics make the party a blunt instrument for personal and factional advancement rather than a representative tool for negotiating compromises amongst civilizations conflicting interests.  Professional sports now have contracts in the quarter of a billion dollar range.  Tens of millions are not unusual for catching or throwing a football.  Educators at the elementary and secondary levels now teach to the test, a strategy created to insure that they meet federal standards and that their students pass high stakes tests.

It is this coarsening of the social fabric, gone from a workmanlike denim for the post World War II economy to a scratchy burlap in this age of the derivative, that has led to a pushing aside of any thing that does not promise economic or political gain.

This is not new.  A friend of mine has a neighbor in his condominium who was hired to teach philosophy at West Point.  In the time period before he began teaching a widespread cheating scandal unfolded.  The honor code had no clothes.  Leadership at West Point told him, “We can’t believe it, but we just never thought to teach our students ethics.  You have to put together a group of experts and develop a curriculum.”  Ethics is one of those disciplines that you can be taught, that you can know well, and that will have no affect on you at all unless you have the will to apply it.

It is not enough, in other words, to teach justice and critical thinking and wisdom and equality if there is no social will to honor them.  That social will comes from a shared conversation about our past, about our common destiny and our mutual responsibility.  Instrumental thinking places all the emphasis on results with means receiving attention only as they bend circumstance to the result.  This is a recipe for disaster as any historian, English or philosophy professor can tell you.  It is not new, it is not a new thing under the sun.  Rather it is a lesson learned by Moses when he came down from Mt. Sinai and found even his brother Aaron bowed before the golden calf.

Judgment came then and it will come now.

Estranged

Fall                                   Waxing Blood Moon

Tomato picking and compost bin rebuilding, the bulk of the morning.  To keep our young pups from celebrating life by knocking down the straw bales out of which I designed this compost bin a wire fence now encircles the bales, with an other, shorter wire fencing material for a gate.

The day started chilly, but has warmed up to 69.  It’s one of those fall days when the Andover H.S. Marching Band can be heard carrying pompoms and the thud of padded football players in its wake.  As this sound comes across the fields of vegetables and the cul de sacs between our home the football field, I become at once both younger and older, thrust back to Alexandria High School and Friday night football while by necessity comparing that time with the present.  It’s not an unpleasant feeling, just a bit strange.

Caught episode 1 of a Harvard class on Justice taught by Michael Sandel.  It’s well worth the time.  Sandel’s teaching style combines the Socratic/law school method of hypotheticals with analysis of responses.  The engagement of the students makes it obvious Sandel is a teacher as well as a philosopher.  I only want to comment on one, striking observation he made about philosophy.  “Philosophy,” he said, “is not about something you don’t know; it is about making you look at what you know from the perspective of a stranger.  Philosophy creates an estrangement from our own experience.”  This is so true, as is his follow-on comment that once you gain this insight you cannot go back to the naive state.

Every hour of every day I see my self and the world through the lens of philosophical analysis, the lens fitted over an anthropological  camera body.  The two together make the world a strange and exotic experience at every turn.

More on Liberalism. Not there yet.

Lughnasa                              Waxing Harvest Moon

Another day spent happily with my nose in The Contested Enlightenment, parsing out threads of intellectual history that I can then weave together into a new tale, one that clarifies liberalism in the United States today and, also, the place Unitarian-Universalism, a liberal faith, has in that larger context.

Liberalism proceeds from three high-powered engines: reason, liberty and individualism.  It is the individual who is central in liberalism in all its forms and liberty creates the protected space around the person that ensures expression of their individuality.  The source of the break away from the old monarchical, aristocratic, traditional and ecclesiastical authority lay in a newly aroused faith in the ability of human reason as the key to truth.  Logic, evidence, skepticism and radical investigation of such matters as revelation, the divine right of kings, the feudal caste structure, and precedent peeled away their nakedness.  They simply did not make sense.

The enlightenment itself stands for the light of reason casting off the darkness of the ancien regime.   Its roots lay in the new empirical methods of Galileo, Copernicus, Francis Bacon.  These men and their brethren advanced the now commonplace notion that one must gather evidence, data from the world before making a conclusion about scientific fact.  Thus, consulting a theological or scholastic assumption of human priority in the great chain of being and using that conclusion to place the earth in the center of the solar system, indeed, the universe might well be true, but if it is true then data gathered from telescopes and manipulated through mathematical formula should confirm it.   If they don’t, and they didn’t, it is the traditional conclusion that gets shelved among yesterday’s ideas.

Further back in time even than the emergence of early science and the philosophical work of Descartes and Spinoza, however, was critical work, for liberalism at any rate, by Petrarch and his humanist buddies, the development of a nascent individualism, a notion of the worth of the person and their unique qualities.

Ideas.

Lughnasa                                Waxing Harvest Moon

Breaking news from the 16th century.  Revolution gets legs from philosophical ideas.  When I grew up in the study of philosophy, the history of ideas was the primary teaching method.  Ideas, this approach claims, grow up in contest with each other, one claiming this and another positing that.  Idealism, like Platonic forms, would find itself ground down by realists or materialists.  Empiricists would find rationalists bugging them at every turn.  The metaphysicians became prey for the logical positivists and linguistic analysts.  From time to time someone would start out on a brand new tangent like Descartes cogito ergo sum, or  Immanuel Kant’s masterly synthesis of empiricist and rationalist approaches.

It was the first way I learned how to think in an academic sense and a history of ideas approach still comes most naturally to me when I examine big problems, like the roots of liberalism, for example.  Thus, it shocked me a bit to learn, in reading Israel’s Contested Enlightenment tonight that the last few decades have seen the history of ideas bashed in academic circles, especially by those claiming material and social reasons for such historical events the Enlightenment and the Revolutions of the 18th and 19th centuries.

The argument apparently has been made that ideas cannot matter in real history since so few people take an intellectual stake in big ideas at any point.  If they do not appreciate them intellectually, the argument goes, they cannot be affected by them.  This underestimates the

This thought broken off by another escaped dog.  Rigel broke the truck gate open and escaped.  Frustrating.

Thoughts of Your Own

Lughnasa                                Waning Green Corn Moon

“To find yourself, think for yourself. ” – Socrates

Gnothi seauton, written over the door into the temple of Apollo, the home of the Delphic Oracle on Mt. Parnassus, means, Know thyself.  How, you might ask?  Listen to Socrates: to find yourself, think for yourself.  This seems so straightforward, but humanity society pushes more toward thought focused on blending in, getting by.  The need to belong and to have respect is so strong it bends our thoughts, often before we know they have been changed.   We change our values so they conform to the group not because we are weak, but because we are social animals.

Our life in community cuts against the grain of thinking for ourselves.  This is why so many people have trouble with finding themselves.  We seek out meditation, religious dogma, political ideology, even scientific certainty in place of careful examination of evidence for themselves.   It is, at first, so pleasing to quiet the anxiety by replacing your own thought process with ready mades that we do not realize we have begun to censure ourselves.

Yet this much is true:  if you have not weighed and considered a matter using your own reason, your own intuitions, your own feelings then you have moved further away from finding yourself.  To do otherwise  is a harsh discipline, often not pleasant, but it has one saving grace: you know who you are.

As you go through the day today, ask yourself if that thought is your own.  Ask yourself if the value you hold comes from your decision making or the pre-cut cloth of public or group opinion.  Ask yourself if you want to be who you are or who others would shape you to be.

It’s A Beautiful World

Beltane              Waning Flower Moon

Hilton Head Island, S.C.

Kate and I went out to the Jazz Corner tonight.  We listened to the Earl Williams Blues Band.  They were excellent musicians.  Earl played New Orleans most of his life and his patter, his stage presence made us laugh, drew us into his songs.

He happened to meet Kate and me at the door.  He introduced himself, “I’ll be playing the music tonight.”  I asked him what he played and he gave a list of instruments not all of which I recognized.  I knew the saxophone(s), the harmonica, but the occa and others I had not heard.

Near the end of the first set Earl turned to Kate and me, said, “I’d like to dedicate this next song to Katie and Charlie Ellis.  From Minnesota.  They drove all day just to be here tonight!”  He then gave a credible imitation of Louis Armstrong singing his It’s a Wonderful World.

We had table for two against the wall, the furthest toward the front.  At one point, engrossed in the music, following it with my heart, a realization popped into mind.

We were in a setting very similar to Max Beckman’s Blind Man’s Buff.  In that tryptych, which hangs in the Minneapolis Institute of Art, the center panel has a band playing in a cabaret setting.  The side panels have cabaret patrons in various enigmatic poses.

Beckman said the band in the center are the gods playing.  I imagine them playing the world into existence.  We sat off to one side, in one of the panels.  In that situation the other panel would have people far across the room from us.  We listened to the same music, sat in the same cafe, but we could not communicate.

The world at the end of World War II had many people in the same cafe, listening to the same music and unable to communicate.

In the Merry, Merry Month of May

Beltane                      Waxing Flower Moon

Beltane marks the beginning of the growing season so fertility is the essence of the celebration.  In a pre-refrigeration, pre-food preservative (except salt and drying) culture fertility during the growing season carried with it survival, for animals and humans.  Thus, anything to encourage the land and to safeguard the animals that could be done, would be done.

This holiday, Beltane, used to separate the Celtic year into halves, the other half coming six months later at Samhain, or Summer’s End.  Later the Celts adopted the solstice and equinox celebrations of other peoples and added Imbolc and Lugnasa to make an 8 holiday year.

Beltane, Lugnasa, Samhain and Imbolc are cross-quarter holidays.  They occur between the quarter year events of Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox–Imbolc,  between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice–Beltane, between Summer Solstice and Fall Equinox–Lugnasa and between Fall Equinox and Winter Solstice–Samhain.  The cross quarter days were the occasion for markets, festivals/fairs and certain seasonally observed matters like short term weddings, labor contracts and preparation for winter.

The fire jumping and making love in the fields at night preserved and magnified fertility.  The May pole which you may have gaily stomped around as a child in elementary school symbolizes the male aspect of fertility while the young maidens with May baskets symbolize the feminine.

The choosing of a May queen carries over the honoring of the goddess in her maiden form, when she can become pregnant and bear children.    This tradition has almost died out in this country and I don’t know whether the selection of a mate for the May queen ever crossed the pond.  At certain points in Celtic history the May Queen’s mate was king for a year and a day.  Over the course of the year and a day the king received all the honors and trappings of royalty.  After the year finished, however, the king died at the hands of his people.  His blood fertilized the soil.

Today we have much less feel, if any, for this holiday.  It has faint impressions on our culture with May Day celebrations, sometimes with construction paper baskets for paper flowers.

As we have distanced ourselves from the land and the processes that bring us food, we have also distanced ourselves from the celebrations that mark seasonal change.  We can let Beltane pass by with no bonfires, no cattle purified, no holiday related love making in the fields.

It may not seem like much, this cultural dementia, at worst a mild symptom.  It might, though,  reveal a more severe underlying affliction.  As we forget the world of fields and cattle, the oceans and their wild fish, cattle ranches and dairy farms, the subtle body may die of starvation or dehydration. Continue reading In the Merry, Merry Month of May

The Titan

Spring           New Moon (Flower)

Lost sleep night before last, got up early yesterday and had a long day at the museum.  I still feel loggy, not quite focused this morning.   This kind of dulled down makes everything just a bit more difficult like walking and thinking through a bog.

I’m nearing the end of Dreiser’s The Titan, the second book in his trilogy of desire.  I finished the Financier awhile ago.  The book jacket on my copy, a used $.75 paperback from long ago, describes this trilogy as the forerunner of the modern business novel.  That may be so but it’s like saying the Mona Lisa is the forerunner of female portaitature.  Perhaps true, or if not exactly true, then you can see the point, but the point pales in comparison to the work itself, so much more than just a portrait.

These three novels:  The Financier, The Titan and the Stoic give a thick description of life in fin de siecle Philadelphia and Chicago, valuable insights into life itself, not only business, which is merely the fictive vehicle for the life of Frank A. Cowperwood, aka Yerkes.  His life has appetites for money, yes, but more for power, and more than power for beauty and for a particular kind of woman.

Both the Titan and the Financier have eerily familiar scenes developed around financial panics, panics that bear striking resemblance to the one underway right now.  In fact, these books could, at one level, be read as cautionary tales about the dramatic affect personal ambition and animus can have in economic affairs.  In the same vein they give a privileged insight into the mental calculations of a monied set, how it comes to be the case that, “This is only business, nothing personal.”

They show the Faustian bargain successful men (and women) make as they scramble for this rung, Continue reading The Titan