Recently I read On Liberty by John Stuart Mill. It’s an essay on Political Liberty, or the legitimate limits of the interference of the state with individual people’s freedom. Perusing this masterpiece and juxtaposing its moral philosophy with those of rationalistic philosophers like Immanuel Kant have provided me with a good opportunity to consider such fundamental questions as what it truly means to be a free agent and whether it is possible for us to be free in a true sense. Here I’ do like to share some thoughts on these questions, mainly based on Kantian philosophy.
Freedom is such a familiar concept that we seldom pause to think what it truly means. Once we begin to consider exactly what it is, however, we will realize how elusive a concept it is and how difficult it is to be convinced of its actual existence. For example, I believe that I choose to do whatever I like and that in blogging like this, I am choosing to do so as a free subject. But is it truly so? Am I not just obeying my desire to blog? Is it really possible to say that I’ve chosen to blog and that I’ve been autonomous in that choice?
Indeed, if you begin to consider this kind of problem, you are already standing on the threshold of philosophy, and all you need to plunge into the exciting field is a little courage and leisure. Although the image you have of philosophy may be as a recondite subject, it’s actually far simpler than is commonly supposed, and the problems it deals with are not so different from the ones that every child, with their uncontaminated minds, poses to their puzzled parents. So you don’t need to be afraid of foraying into this riddle-laden field.
Kant’s definition of freedom is extremely stringent. His epistemology makes it impossible to conceive its possibility in the world of experience, where the law of causality reigns supreme, so that nothing can escape from its grip. According to Kantian view, causality is one of those things that make the world of experience possible. So, for something to exist in the sphere of experience entails that it is ruled by the law of causality, or caused by some other thing. But if everything is caused by something, it follows that nothing is unconditioned or that nothing is totally free. That is why freedom is impossible in the realm of possible experience. Nothing or nobody can be truly free in this down-to-earth world. But if so, how is the concept of freedom itself possible?
Practical reason comes in here. It can dictate a priori---or independently of and prior to experience---that so and so ought to be the case. This is the universal moral law. On Kantian view, it is only in our ability to choose to obey this law for its own sake that freedom is possible. For as a rational subject every individual has this transcendental faculty called practical reason, and obeying the rule prescribed by it does not mean obeying some other thing but following our inner rational voice.
Despite the fact that Kant’s moral philosophy is highly intriguing and has indeed inspired such modern thinkers as John Rawls and Michael Sandel, it is untenable from our point of view. It gives reason a privileged status it does not actually have. Though reason is palpably a higher faculty than sensation, still it’s not a metaphysical but an anthropological faculty, and as such requires some biological and sociological foundation. That it is totally unfettered by experience, be it ontogenetic or phylogenetic, is simply inconceivable. But if we reject Kantian moral philosophy on this ground, we have to return to the question: Is freedom really possible? Kant's epistemology is so cogent that it's impossible to completely jettison its basic idea but if we accept its tenet that causality is one of the indispensable components of this empirical world and yet reject Kant's rationalistic account of freedom, we cannot avoid concluding that free will in a true sense is completely impossible. How can we extricate ourselves from this predicament?
I’d like to consider what Mill thinks about this problem next time.
2011年3月25日金曜日
2011年3月18日金曜日
Take Heed, and Beware of Irrational Fear
The tremendous difficulty we have controlling our irrational feelings reminds us of our inherently bestial nature. Although it’s said that reason, or vernunft if you like, sets us apart from the rest of the animal kingdom, ironically this exquisite human faculty seldom comes to rescue us when we need it most.
As I said in the previous posting, Tokyo didn’t suffer serious damage from the earthquake and tsunami. True, the nuclear plant crisis triggered by them has made it all but impossible for Tokyo Electric Power Company to supply enough electricity, as a result of which it has now put into practice the rolling residential blackouts in its covered areas, thus influencing Tokyoites’ lives too. But even before this they were fear stricken. Immediately after the earthquake hit, many of them rushed to supermarkets and convenient stores to stock up on essentials. This stupid panic buying still continues despite the admonitions on the part of the government officials and TV news commentators. If you think rationally about the current situation, it is the most affected areas in northeast Japan that are in serious shortage of essentials. Tokyoites don’t lack anything at this moment. Still, they do stock up, thus making it all the more difficult for relief goods to reach those survivors in Tohoku. Nothing could be further from rational behavior.
Behind this irrational behavior lies an egocentric desire to avert death even at the expense of others’ lives. Another possible factor is the strong tendency of Japanese people to simply ape what other people do without considering whether it is a reasonable thing. Both of them can be subsumed under the heading of “fear.” On the one hand, they fear death; on the other, they fear to lag behind others. These feelings are understandable enough, but not commendable from a rationalistic point of view. And in my opinion, overcoming them ultimately helps us to protect what we fear to lose.
Not only in this panic buying but also in people’s interpretation of what’s happening in the nuclear plants in Fukushima prefecture does this irrational fear make itself felt. The reportings of the foreign media and the Japanese media are so different in tone that they are at a loss which of the two is true. The foreign media suggest that the nuclear crisis is far worse than the Japanese administration admits, something that people don't want to belive, but if the worse scenario should turn out to be true, those who have listened for it, they think, will be more likely to survive than those who have ignored it. As a result, they are frustrated. But even if the foreign media should be correct, there is nothing we could do at this moment. What point is there in scratching our heads over what we cannot do anything about? The only rational way to respond to the current situation is to be always prepared for the worst scenario, be it a Chernobyl or anything else, so that we can remain calm should it come. This might be regarded as a form of resignation. But far from being so, this is the most practical way to weather the crisis. The worst scenario doesn’t always mean that we all perish. But it would take stupendous efforts to overcome it. So, suppose that the worst thing happened, what would be the biggest impediment to containing it? People’s irrational fear and behavior. Even now, they are in confusion. If it should turn out that the crisis is far worse than they think, it is almost inevitable for the situation to be chaotic. In such a case, those who will keep calm and behave in a rational manner will be most likely to succeed.
I know that this mental attitude is hard to maintain. After all, we are part of the animal kingdom. Rational behavior is not the rule but the exception. But if reason cannot help us at this critical moment, what is it for?
As I said in the previous posting, Tokyo didn’t suffer serious damage from the earthquake and tsunami. True, the nuclear plant crisis triggered by them has made it all but impossible for Tokyo Electric Power Company to supply enough electricity, as a result of which it has now put into practice the rolling residential blackouts in its covered areas, thus influencing Tokyoites’ lives too. But even before this they were fear stricken. Immediately after the earthquake hit, many of them rushed to supermarkets and convenient stores to stock up on essentials. This stupid panic buying still continues despite the admonitions on the part of the government officials and TV news commentators. If you think rationally about the current situation, it is the most affected areas in northeast Japan that are in serious shortage of essentials. Tokyoites don’t lack anything at this moment. Still, they do stock up, thus making it all the more difficult for relief goods to reach those survivors in Tohoku. Nothing could be further from rational behavior.
Behind this irrational behavior lies an egocentric desire to avert death even at the expense of others’ lives. Another possible factor is the strong tendency of Japanese people to simply ape what other people do without considering whether it is a reasonable thing. Both of them can be subsumed under the heading of “fear.” On the one hand, they fear death; on the other, they fear to lag behind others. These feelings are understandable enough, but not commendable from a rationalistic point of view. And in my opinion, overcoming them ultimately helps us to protect what we fear to lose.
Not only in this panic buying but also in people’s interpretation of what’s happening in the nuclear plants in Fukushima prefecture does this irrational fear make itself felt. The reportings of the foreign media and the Japanese media are so different in tone that they are at a loss which of the two is true. The foreign media suggest that the nuclear crisis is far worse than the Japanese administration admits, something that people don't want to belive, but if the worse scenario should turn out to be true, those who have listened for it, they think, will be more likely to survive than those who have ignored it. As a result, they are frustrated. But even if the foreign media should be correct, there is nothing we could do at this moment. What point is there in scratching our heads over what we cannot do anything about? The only rational way to respond to the current situation is to be always prepared for the worst scenario, be it a Chernobyl or anything else, so that we can remain calm should it come. This might be regarded as a form of resignation. But far from being so, this is the most practical way to weather the crisis. The worst scenario doesn’t always mean that we all perish. But it would take stupendous efforts to overcome it. So, suppose that the worst thing happened, what would be the biggest impediment to containing it? People’s irrational fear and behavior. Even now, they are in confusion. If it should turn out that the crisis is far worse than they think, it is almost inevitable for the situation to be chaotic. In such a case, those who will keep calm and behave in a rational manner will be most likely to succeed.
I know that this mental attitude is hard to maintain. After all, we are part of the animal kingdom. Rational behavior is not the rule but the exception. But if reason cannot help us at this critical moment, what is it for?
2011年3月15日火曜日
Not Hope but Will
Prime Minister Naoto Kan referred to the disaster as the worst crisis ever since WWII. He may have been correct. But Japan has always been able to overcome tremendous hardships. Japanese people's fortitude and perseverance have been admired all over the world. Economic stagnation? Political deadlock? Yes, these are problems, but nothing compared with what Japan has accomplished since the end of the war.
The Kobe earthquake in 1995 is still fresh in my memory. It devastated the beautiful city out of recognition. But people got together under the banner of "We Love Kobe" and made herculean efforts to redeem the city's beauty and dignity. Now Kobe is a far more wonderful city than before the disaster struck.
The most important thing about this is that those who lived in Kobe at that moment, including myself, never doubted it would recover from the damage it suffered. Indeed, eventual recovery was so natural to me that it didn't occur to me to have any doubt about it. And Kobe did emerge from the crisis a stronger city.
The NYT columnist Nicholas Kristof, who witnessed the resuscitation of Kobe in person as a correspondent, attributes this resilience to a form of fatalism. He observes that Japanese people tend to accept quietly what has happened. This is reflected in such Japanese phrases as “shikata ga nai,” which we often use to express the view there is no point in grumbling about what has come to pass. Indeed, one old survivor of this Tohoku earthquake is reported to have said, “It is no use complaining about what happened, we can rebuild our city.”
This aspect of Japanese culture has long been pointed out by Westerners, but almost invariably in a negative light. For example, Sir Laurens van der Post suggested, in his autobiographical short stories that are based on his own experience as a POW, that this kind of self-effacing fatalism has been responsible for Japanese people’s fanatical behaviors in the war. What makes Mr. Kristof’s observation special, therefore, is that it draws attention to the remarkable feat this Japanese character could accomplish in a crisis. And Mr. Kristof cannot be so wrong, as is evidenced by the case of Kobe and the survivor mentioned above.
So why should we be so pessimistic? I am confident, and I believe everybody is confident, that Japan will regain its strength. True, there is no denying that this disaster will be a traumatic event for the entire nation and that it will be extremely hard for those who suffered serious damage, be it physical or mental, to stand up and move forward. But still more difficult for me is to imagine that they will never stand up again.
In the face of this unprecedented crisis, let us remember an important truth, fully articulated in the superb Japanese comic "ARMS": "What prevents people from moving forward is not despair but resignation; what prompts them to move forward is not hope but will."
-------------------------
Appendix:
The following comment is on Mr. de Botton’s article “Tsunamis and Stoicism”
(http://theschooloflife.typepad.com/the_school_of_life/2011/03/alain-de-botton-on-tsunamis-and-stoicism.html)
Tokyo was affected by the earthquake that hit Japan five days ago, but the damage it suffered was relatively small, especially compared with the colossal havoc wrought upon the northeastern part of Japan. Basically, I can go about my daily business as before. Therefore, I do not realize what it would truly mean to see one’s own house falling down or one's own relatives and friends being swept away by tsunamis. In other words, despite my nationality, I am as objective an onlooker as anybody else.
From that onlooker's point of view, I couldn't agree more with Senenca. When an unexpected, catastrophic event happens, people tend to complain of its unfairness and unreasonableness. Some even say that they don't deserve it because they didn't do anything wrong. But they at least know that those events have happened over and over again in the history of human beings. For example, great earthquakes have recently struck such countries as Indonesia, China and New Zealand, causing many innocent people to die. Even if we confine ourselves to Japan, the Kobe earthquake happened in 1995 and the Niigata earthquake in 2004, in both cases resulting in large casualties. So for a disaster to strike is not unreasonable at all. What is truly unreasonable is the groundless assumption we often fall into the trap of harboring that it is impossible for us to fall victim to such disasters. And Seneca's purpose, from my understanding, was to rectify that unreasonable attitude.
Still, I cannot help but think that I can say this so calmly because I have never seen my beloved ones being engulfed by death waves. It might be a piece of sentimentality to say this, but I am not sure whether, if I should experience the tragic events that happened to the northeastern part of Japan a few days ago, I could say the same thing with as much equanimity. And if I couldn't do that, isn't my current agreement with Seneca a spurious one? A tough question.
The Kobe earthquake in 1995 is still fresh in my memory. It devastated the beautiful city out of recognition. But people got together under the banner of "We Love Kobe" and made herculean efforts to redeem the city's beauty and dignity. Now Kobe is a far more wonderful city than before the disaster struck.
The most important thing about this is that those who lived in Kobe at that moment, including myself, never doubted it would recover from the damage it suffered. Indeed, eventual recovery was so natural to me that it didn't occur to me to have any doubt about it. And Kobe did emerge from the crisis a stronger city.
The NYT columnist Nicholas Kristof, who witnessed the resuscitation of Kobe in person as a correspondent, attributes this resilience to a form of fatalism. He observes that Japanese people tend to accept quietly what has happened. This is reflected in such Japanese phrases as “shikata ga nai,” which we often use to express the view there is no point in grumbling about what has come to pass. Indeed, one old survivor of this Tohoku earthquake is reported to have said, “It is no use complaining about what happened, we can rebuild our city.”
This aspect of Japanese culture has long been pointed out by Westerners, but almost invariably in a negative light. For example, Sir Laurens van der Post suggested, in his autobiographical short stories that are based on his own experience as a POW, that this kind of self-effacing fatalism has been responsible for Japanese people’s fanatical behaviors in the war. What makes Mr. Kristof’s observation special, therefore, is that it draws attention to the remarkable feat this Japanese character could accomplish in a crisis. And Mr. Kristof cannot be so wrong, as is evidenced by the case of Kobe and the survivor mentioned above.
So why should we be so pessimistic? I am confident, and I believe everybody is confident, that Japan will regain its strength. True, there is no denying that this disaster will be a traumatic event for the entire nation and that it will be extremely hard for those who suffered serious damage, be it physical or mental, to stand up and move forward. But still more difficult for me is to imagine that they will never stand up again.
In the face of this unprecedented crisis, let us remember an important truth, fully articulated in the superb Japanese comic "ARMS": "What prevents people from moving forward is not despair but resignation; what prompts them to move forward is not hope but will."
-------------------------
Appendix:
The following comment is on Mr. de Botton’s article “Tsunamis and Stoicism”
(http://theschooloflife.typepad.com/the_school_of_life/2011/03/alain-de-botton-on-tsunamis-and-stoicism.html)
Tokyo was affected by the earthquake that hit Japan five days ago, but the damage it suffered was relatively small, especially compared with the colossal havoc wrought upon the northeastern part of Japan. Basically, I can go about my daily business as before. Therefore, I do not realize what it would truly mean to see one’s own house falling down or one's own relatives and friends being swept away by tsunamis. In other words, despite my nationality, I am as objective an onlooker as anybody else.
From that onlooker's point of view, I couldn't agree more with Senenca. When an unexpected, catastrophic event happens, people tend to complain of its unfairness and unreasonableness. Some even say that they don't deserve it because they didn't do anything wrong. But they at least know that those events have happened over and over again in the history of human beings. For example, great earthquakes have recently struck such countries as Indonesia, China and New Zealand, causing many innocent people to die. Even if we confine ourselves to Japan, the Kobe earthquake happened in 1995 and the Niigata earthquake in 2004, in both cases resulting in large casualties. So for a disaster to strike is not unreasonable at all. What is truly unreasonable is the groundless assumption we often fall into the trap of harboring that it is impossible for us to fall victim to such disasters. And Seneca's purpose, from my understanding, was to rectify that unreasonable attitude.
Still, I cannot help but think that I can say this so calmly because I have never seen my beloved ones being engulfed by death waves. It might be a piece of sentimentality to say this, but I am not sure whether, if I should experience the tragic events that happened to the northeastern part of Japan a few days ago, I could say the same thing with as much equanimity. And if I couldn't do that, isn't my current agreement with Seneca a spurious one? A tough question.
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