Archive for philosophy

Are we hard-wired for war?

Posted in Books, Kids with tags , , , , on October 27, 2013 by xi'an

“There is a story, believed to be of Cherokee origin, in which a girl is troubled by a recurring dream in which two wolves fight viciously. Seeking an explanation, she goes to her grandfather, highly regarded for his wisdom, who explains that there are two forces within each of us, struggling for supremacy, one embodying peace and the other, war. At this, the girl is even more distressed, and asks her grandfather who wins. His answer: “The one you feed.””

Another opinion piece from the New York Times I (also) read in the train to the airport bound for Warwick is about the Hume-an human (supposed) predisposition for war, hence the title “are we hard wired for war?” This question reminded me of my daughter’s philosophy dissertation of last week as war may appear as the ultimate example of the “nature vs culture” debate, wars resulting from societal pressures… until one thinks of the constant fighting in most animal societies, where from ants to chimpanzees, groups within the same species are fighting for supremacy. The paper in itself is rather inconclusive, with good feelings and little folk tales like the above replacing scientific evidence and deeper philosophical arguments (also missing from this post!)…

Something I just noticed when looking at both authors (of this tribune and the previous one on traditional Chinese medicine) is that they both mix a Buddhist approach with scientific arguments, Asma with his book Why I am a Buddhist, and Barash with his book Buddhist Biology: Ancient Eastern Wisdom Meets Modern Western Science. It is thus no wonder they entertain the idea of an absence of boundaries between science and religion.

L’œuvre au noir

Posted in Books with tags , , , , , , on September 28, 2013 by xi'an

L‘œuvre au noir (The Abyss) is a 1968 book written by Marguerite Yourcenar I read decades ago and took with me this summer. It tells the story of Zeno(n), a mediaeval precursor of the Renaissance humanist, involved in medicine, alchemy, engineering and philosophy, but above all fighting or at least resisting the pressure of irrational beliefs and superstitions until they lead him to suicide. As acknowledged by Yourcenar in her notes, the character borrows from Renaissance scientists like Erasme, Giordano Bruno, Mikołaj Copernic, Leonardo da Vinci, and medical pioneers like Paracelsus (very much like Paracelsus!), Michel Serat and Etienne Dolet. Zenon is an atheist at a time when atheism is punished by burning at the stake, and an experimenter in an epoch when alchemy and dissection were assimilated to sorcery. The original title (translated as nigredo) is the first of the three steps in the alchemist transmutation process but also applies to the transformation of Zenon from what the society planned for him into a free and rational man. So free that he could choose himself the time and manner of his death. So rational that he reached a spiritual solitude that made him see his fellow humans with the doctor’s detached compassion and the philosopher’s pessimistic analysis of their superstitions. (The English title is just missing the point!)

This is a 20th century novel (on which Yourcenar tolled for many years, from three short stories to the final version), which makes the highly modern vision of the imaginary Zenon less remarkable than the steps made by the above real characters, but the text abounds in remarkable discussions and monologues that reminded me of similar passages in Memoirs of Hadrian. Both books are centred on (impossibly and unrealistically) exceptional men with visions that set them out of their historical time. The fate of Zenon is somehow underlying the whole book and his weak and failed attempt at fleeing Bruges and the Inquisition can be understood at the first step towards his philosopher’s suicide, preferring to face the ecclesiastical tribunal and debate of some of his ideas than Flemish smugglers and an inglorious end by being tossed into the North Sea. L‘œuvre au noir is a remarkable if pessimistic book that reflects on science and intolerance in a beautiful style, a book that I put in par with the equally great Memoirs of Hadrian.

on the Jeffreys-Lindley’s paradox (revision)

Posted in Statistics, University life with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 17, 2013 by xi'an

As mentioned here a few days ago, I have been revising my paper on the Jeffreys-Lindley’s paradox paper for Philosophy of Science. It came as a bit of a (very pleasant) surprise that this journal was ready to consider a revised version of the paper given that I have no formal training in philosophy and that the (first version of the) paper was rather hurriedly made of a short text written for the 95th birthday of Dennis Lindley and of my blog post on Aris Spanos’ “Who should be afraid of the Jeffreys-Lindley paradox?“, recently published in Philosophy of Science.  So I found both reviewers very supportive and I am grateful for their suggestions to improve both the scope and the presentation of the paper. It has been resubmitted and rearXived, and I am now waiting for the decision of the editorial team with the appropriate philosophical sense of detachment…

falling asleep in/on the bed of Procrustes

Posted in Books with tags , , , , , , , on November 11, 2012 by xi'an

Frankly, I must admit I bought this new book of Nassim Nicholas Taleb out of sheer perversity, as I am quite prejudiced against the author’s stance as a cynic (in the philosophical sense), delivering drops of antique wisdom to the modern World from his ivory tower… Having made a living from the financial system he despises so much. The description of himself “as a flâneur, meditating in cafés across the planet” found on the flip-cover of the book did nothing to decrease this prejudice. (Nor did the fact that the editors thought relevant to quote the magazine GQ in support of the book!)

The book is a collection of aphorisms on themes dear to Taleb like randomness, religion, capitalism, culture, media, love… At 100 pages of roughly 4 aphorisms per page, this makes the cost of an aphorism in the bed of Procrustes a par with the one of a fortune cookie, with the difference that you can at least eat the cookie if the message does not suit you. (Hence an easy pun on cheap philosophy sold dear.) Indeed, the art of the aphorism is a subtle one and very few can reach the depth of Pascal, Nietzsche, or Cioran…  I do not think Taleb comes any near this level: his aphorisms fall flat and dead, having none of the impact that could drive one’s life or even one’s current day-life. Take for instance “There is no intermediate state between ice and water but there is one between life and death: employment” (p.8). What does this sentence convey? That being employed by a company, which is the case for most of our contemporaries, is a semi-death. Or a form of modern slavery. (There are other aphorisms with the same underlying idea.) Great: Now what should we do about it?! Turn all people into self-entrepreneurs?! Tag employees as suckers and members of the lower class or cast and despise them from our lofty ivory tower or a trendy boulevard Saint-Germain café?! Take again “Marriage is the institutional process of feminizing men—and feminizing women“. Even though I presume this pearl of wisdom considers solely heterosexual marriage, I have serious trouble understanding what this means and in which sense this is a criticism of marriage… Does this imply we should switch to the more macho tradition of bride rapts?! (Again, there are other aphorisms with similar sexist undertones, e.g. p.38,  p.95, p.99 or p.103.) I could go on like that for almost every entry in the book…

Hence this unsubtle title to the post: while I realise how dangerous it is to fall asleep in Procrustes’ bed, I sort of fell asleep on the bed of Procrustes, at least figuratively!  I (again) see no point in this collection of aphorisms as they only serve to illustrate both the huge ego of the author and his aristocratic views on life and society. And to surf on the editorial success of the Black Swan and Fooled by Randomness. In conclusion, I got just what I was looking for! However, I see no point in recommending a book where the author scorns with “polite disdain” at least 99% of his contemporaries…

Aphorism

Posted in pictures, Travel, University life with tags , , , , on July 4, 2011 by xi'an