[MD] The Moral Landscape

[Platt Holden]

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Steven Peterson" <peterson.steve at gmail.com>
To: <moq_discuss at moqtalk.org>
Sent: Wednesday, October 20, 2010 9:31 AM
Subject: Re: [MD] The Moral Landscape


Hi Platt,

> Steve:
> What you see as a weakness of science Pirsig sees as its key strength
> relative to religion (but that's not surprising since you and Pirsig
> don't seem to agree on much):
>
> "...it's science's unique organization for the handling of the Dynamic
> that gives it its superiority. Science superseded old religious
> forms, not because what it says is more true in any absolute sense
> (whatever that is), but because what it says is more Dynamic. If
> scientists had simply said Copernicus was right and Ptolemy was wrong
> without any willingness to further investigate the subject, then
> science would have simply become another minor religious creed. But
> scientific truth has always contained an overwhelming difference from
> theological
> truth: it is provisional. Science always contains an eraser, a
> mechanism whereby new Dynamic insight could wipe out old static
> patterns without destroying science itself. Thus science, unlike
> orthodox theology, has
> been capable of continuous, evolutionary growth. As Phædrus had
> written on one of his slips, "The pencil is mightier than the pen."
>
> Platt
> So this is what you want -- an ever changing moral code? Not too 
> "reasonable"
> in my book. .

Steve:
Yes, an ever-improving moral code. Just as rational inquiry has
increased our knowledge about every other subject, it has and will
continue to add to our knowledge about morals.

What do you propose as the alternative to rational inquiry into
morals? Just go with whatever people used to believe? Go with whatever
the Catholic Church says? Personal moral intuition?

Platt
An ever-changing moral code based on what a bunch of scientists
say at any given time? That's not my idea of the good life. I like to
plan ahead with some assurance that what is right today will be right
tomorrow. Nor do I want to governed by a bunch of scientists
susceptible to corruption by money and politics. As I stated before,
my morality is based on individual liberty to do as one wishes unless
causing direct physical harm to others and taking full responsibility
for the consequences of one'sown decisions. If you have a better
morality, let's hear it.

> Rationality" that recognizes that science presupposes values
> and can apply its reason to study values. This is Pirsig's dream but
> apparently your nightmare.
>
> Platt
> That science can become a nightmare is well documented. Do you not know of 
> the
> Tuskegee experiment? Ever heard of Josef Mengele?

Steve:
Have you heard of the Catholic priest sex abuse scandal?

Of course being a scientist does not ensure that someone will always
act morally anymore than being a priest does so. The question here is
how can we learn about what is right and wrong? Can rational inquiry
increase our moral knowledge? Is there even such a thing as moral
knowledge?

In the past science has been viewed as value-neutral. Both Harris and
Pirsig try to change that view and point out that morality is amenable
to rational inquiry. Why do you oppose Pirsig's view that we can
rationally inquire into values? What altrernative way of learning
about morality are you proposing here?

Platt
I think Pirsig's rational approach to values is fine and dandy. But,
science plays no part in his argument. In fact, he scorns science for
its moral deficiency. And I doubt there's a scientist in the world who
will buy Pirsig's premise that the world is a moral order. If there is,
please tell us about him or her.

Platt:
> As for Pirsig's dream, when Harris finds morality in the behavior of 
> atoms,
> then maybe he along with other scientists and academics will have 
> something of
> value to offer about appropriate social behavior. Until then, Pirsig's 
> dream
> will remain largely unfulfilled.

Steve:
The fact is that the word morality is generally not used in that
sense, and I can't see how thinking of atoms as having morals will
help us determine what is right and wrong for human beings. Perhaos
you can explain.

Platt
Read Lila. The explanation is there in full.

> Platt:
>> As for not believing in any religion, you're wrong. I believe in the 
>> religion
>> of individual liberty to think and act as one wishes (without direct harm 
>> to
>> others) and to accept responsibility for the consequences of one's 
>> choices in
>> life -- the religion of "endowed by their Creator with certain 
>> unalienable
>> Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
>
>
> Steve:
> And what exactly do you think of the claim that Jesus was born of a
> virgin? that Muhammad flew to heaven on a winged steed? that God
> occasionally decides to heal people if someone prays for it to happen?
> that Joseph Smith talked to angels? that Jesus will come back to earth
> some day to raise the dead and to decide who is to go to heaven and
> who is to go to hell? What do you think Pirsig thinks of such claims?
> That it is impossible to apply mere reason to such "spiritual"
> questions? Certainly not. Do you think that Pirsig is any less hostile
> to such claims as Harris is? Certainly not.
>
> Platt
> I don't buy all the claims of religion just as I don't buy all the claims 
> of
> science. Pirsig is hostile to static religious patterns, but is open to
> religious mysticism. Is Harris? Are you?

Steve
Yes and yes. We've already been through this. I already posted an
essay where Harris goes into his mystical experiences.

Platt
He plays lip service to meditation and the "contemplative life."
 But does he have any concept of Dynamic Quality as a moral
force? Not that I can see. In fact, his faith in science suggests
that religious mystic experience plays no role in determining how
to moral behavior. Reason is his church -- a restrictive, narrow
view IMO. .

Steve
Here it is again:

Selfless Consciousness Without Faith
I recently spent an afternoon on the northwestern shore of the Sea of
Galilee, atop the mount where Jesus is believed to have preached his
most famous sermon. It was an infernally hot day, and the sanctuary
was crowded with Christian pilgrims from many continents. Some
gathered silently in the shade, while others staggered in the noonday
sun, taking photographs.
As I sat and gazed upon the surrounding hills gently sloping to an
inland sea, a feeling of peace came over me. It soon grew to a
blissful stillness that silenced my thoughts. In an instant, the sense
of being a separate self—an “I” or a “me”—vanished. Everything was as
it had been—the cloudless sky, the pilgrims clutching their bottles of
water—but I no longer felt like I was separate from the scene, peering
out at the world from behind my eyes. Only the world remained.
The experience lasted just a few moments, but returned many times as I
gazed out over the land where Jesus is believed to have walked,
gathered his apostles, and worked many of his miracles. If I were a
Christian, I would undoubtedly interpret this experience in Christian
terms. I might believe that I had glimpsed the oneness of God, or felt
the descent of the Holy Spirit.But I am not a Christian.
If I were a Hindu, I might talk about “Brahman,” the eternal Self, of
which all individual minds are thought to be a mere modification. But
I am not a Hindu. If I were a Buddhist, I might talk about the
"dharmakaya of emptiness" in which all apparent things manifest. But I
am not a Buddhist.
As someone who is simply making his best effort to be a rational human
being, I am very slow to draw metaphysical conclusions from
experiences of this sort. The truth is, I experience what I would call
the “selflessness of consciousness” rather often, wherever I happen to
meditate—be it in a Buddhist monastery, a Hindu temple, or while
having my teeth cleaned. Consequently, the fact that I also had this
experience at a Christian holy site does not lend an ounce of
credibility to the doctrine of Christianity.
There is no question that people have “spiritual” experiences (I use
words like “spiritual” and “mystical” in scare quotes, because they
come to us trailing a long tail of metaphysical debris). Every culture
has produced people who have gone off into caves for months or years
and discovered that certain deliberate uses of
attention—introspection, meditation, prayer—can radically transform a
person’s moment to moment perception of the world. I believe
contemplative efforts of this sort have a lot to tell us about the
nature of the mind.
There are, in fact, several points of convergence between the modern
sciences of the mind—psychology, neuroscience, cognitive science,
etc.—and some of our contemplative traditions. Both lines of inquiry,
for instance, give us good reasons to believe that the conventional
sense of self is a kind of cognitive illusion. While most of us go
through life feeling like we are the thinker of our thoughts and the
experiencer of our experience, from the perspective of science we know
that this is a false view. There is no discrete self or ego lurking
like a minotaur in the labyrinth of the brain. There is no region of
cortex or stream of neural processing that occupies a privileged
position with respect to our personhood. There is no unchanging
“center of narrative gravity” (to use fellow "On Faith" panelist
Daniel Dennett’s fine phrase).
In subjective terms, however, there seems to be one—to most of us,
most of the time. But our contemplative traditions (Hindu, Buddhist,
Christian, Muslim, Jewish, etc.) also attest, to varying degrees and
with greater or lesser precision, that this point of view is
vulnerable to inquiry.
Consider what the brain is doing as a matter of conscious
representation. What are we conscious of? We are conscious of the
world; we are conscious of our bodies in the world; and we are—we
think—conscious of our selves in our bodies. After all, most of us
don’t feel merely identical to our bodies. We feel, most of the time,
like we are riding around inside our bodies, as though we are an inner
subject that can utilize the body as a kind of object. This last
representation is an illusion, and can be dispelled as such.
Selflessness is a quality of consciousness that can be subjectively
discovered. Indeed, it is in plain view in every present moment, and
yet it remains difficult to see. If this seems like a paradox,
consider the following analogy:
The optic nerve passes through the retina, so as to create a point in
each of our visual fields where we are effectively blind. Most of us
had this demonstrated to us in school: one marks a piece of paper,
closes an eye, and then moves the paper into a position where the mark
disappears. Of course, only a small minority of people in history have
been aware of their blind spots. And even those of us who know about
them go for decades without noticing them as a matter of direct
perception. And yet they are always there, available to be noticed.
There is an analogous insight into the nature of consciousness—too
near to us, in a sense, to be easily seen. For most people it requires
considerable training in meditation to catch a glimpse of it. But it
is possible to notice that consciousness—that in you which is aware of
your experience in this moment—does not feel like a self. It does not
feel like “I.”
As a critic of religious faith, I am often asked what will replace
organized religion. The answer is: many things and nothing. Nothing
need replace its ludicrous and divisive elements. Nothing need replace
the idea that Jesus will return to earth wielding magic powers and
hurl unbelievers into a lake of fire. Nothing need replace the notion
that death in defense of Islam is the highest good. These are
baseless, dangerous, and demeaning ideas.
But what about ethics and spiritual experience? For many, religion
still appears the only vehicle for what is most important in
life—love, compassion, morality, and self-transcendence. To change
this, we need a way of talking about human well-being that is as
unconstrained by religious dogma as science is.
As I write, the second in a series of meditation retreats for
scientists is just getting underway, sponsored by the Mind and Life
Institute. One hundred scientists will spend the next week in silent
meditation, to see whether, and to what degree, this technique of
sustained introspection can inform their thinking about the human
mind. There are also several neuroscience labs now studying the
effects of meditation on the brain. Western interest in meditation has
opened a dialogue between scientists and contemplatives about how the
data of first-person experience can be brought into the charmed circle
of third-person experiment. The goal is to understand the
possibilities of human well-being a little bit better than we do at
present.
I believe that most people are interested in spiritual life, whether
they realize it or not. Every one of us has been born to seek
happiness in a condition that is fundamentally unreliable. What you
get, you lose. We are all (at least tacitly) interested in discovering
just how happy a person can be in such a circumstance. On the question
of how to be most happy, the contemplative life has some important
insights to offer.

By Sam Harris  |  January 8, 2007; 12:30 PM ET