the audacity of individuality

You can't get very far in a Philosophy degree without butting heads with Nietzsche: the unfortunate playboy for all things anti-Christian, anti-conformist, or anti-anything. You don't believe in anything? Must be Nietzsche's fault. Pissed off at your parents? You can probably quote Nietzsche. Mad at God? Well, you get the idea. The problem with studying Nietzsche is that he has an unfortunate mythology surrounding him. While the Christians and Modernists were calling him a nihilist (which has regrettably stuck), he was dishing out the same accusation back (especially towards the Buddhists though, yes, Nietzsche was just as anti-Buddhist as he was anti-Christian). Holding a "Nietzchean" philosophy among most circles continues to be a negative or even dangerous perspective. I, like many others that have spent a fair amount of time studying Nietzsche, could write a book concerning the discrepancies between Nietzsche's works and the Nietzsche of popular culture. Since this, however, is not the purpose of this particular piece, I will not get into any specifics.

In my top 25 most influential persons list there will be several existentialist, or "proto-existentialist" (such as Nietzsche), thinkers, all for various reasons. Nietzsche finds himself not as prominent on my list due to the lack of common ground with his worldview. He makes the list, however, because it was Nietzsche who first attracted me to existentialist thinking - a way of thinking about things very differently than I originally had. Once I had started reading about Nietzsche, many things that I had previously started to question made sense. I desperately wanted to consider myself a rationalist, but the harder I tried the more I realized that the objective truths I so desperately wanted to contain and comprehend simply faded into obscurity. Enter Nietzsche.

The nineteenth-century German was more of an anti-philosopher than he was a philosopher. There is little analytical philosophy to be found in Nietzsche's works, and his conclusions are rarely the result of traditional logic. The moral philosophies of the Judeo-Christian traditions, Kant, and Bentham were cast aside by Nietzsche's "will to power" as attempt to derail the "slave moralities" Nietzsche perceived throughout humankind's history. The ideas of the "slave morality" and the "will to power" (along with other goodies such as "God is dead"), are just some of the fallouts of Nietzsche's overarching perspectivism. The reason that Nietzsche came to play such an influential role in my own philosophy was this concept of perspectivism. Granted, I would gut it and warp it into my own paradigm, but the distinction between perspectivism, relativism, and objectivism would become crucial to my thinking.

In layperson's terms, objectivism is the idea that humans, using their various tools of perception, are capable of translating the objective facts of reality (it is erroneous to conflate objectivism with philosophical realism). Relativism, on the other hand, states that their are no absolute truths, moral or otherwise, and all forms of judgment must be based on historical or cultural contexts. Nietzsche's perspectivism, however, understands that humans make judgments (i.e. form ideas, concepts, etc.) based on our individual circumstances. Whether there is an objective reality or not is of little concern, as we are constantly competing to persuade other individuals and society as a whole of our own perspective.

It is our needs that interpret the world; our drives and their For and Against. Every drive is a kind of lust to rule; each one has its perspective that it would like to compel all the other drives to accept as a norm.

-Nietzsche, The Will to Power 

The ideas of absolutism, objectivism, relativism, and the like are hence subject to the perceiver. Truth is relative, not in truth itself, but relative in the sense of degrees of validity based on circumstantial grounds that cannot be simplified to "truth" and "not truth." Rather, the perceiver(s) is/are able to say whether something is [more] truthful or [probably] truthful without complete certainty of the truthfulness.

I must qualify, however, that one of the key aspects of Nietzsche's philosophy that is impossible to accept for myself is the philosophy of social hierarchy. His blasts against Christian had more to do with his greivence against the humble Christ than anything else. Pity and humility, according to Nietzsche, were degenerations of the human condition that were created by religious weaklings so that they could overpower those who are socially superior. I find it strange, however, that a warped version of Calvinist thinking in the United States, especially in the last generation by "prosperity gospel" messages, has used Christianity to advance the sort of morality that Nietzsche advocated.

Later known as Peter Waldo, Pierre de Vaudes (or Valdes) began a movement that some, including myself, consider the practice run for the Protestant Reformation - three and a half centuries earlier. Tradition has it that de Vaudes made his monetary fortune through usury; historically, we know that he was wealthy merchant of some type. Sometime in the 1170's CE around Lyons, France, de Vaudes had a major paradigm shift motivated by the second half of Matthew 19:

Then someone came to him and said, "Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?" And he said to him, "Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good.If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments." He said to him, "Which ones?" And Jesus said, "You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not bear false witness; Honour your father and mother; also, You shall love your neighbour as yourself." The young man said to him, "I have kept all these; what do I still lack?" Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me… And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first."

De Vaudesput his affairs in order, arranging a place for his wife and daughters and made sure they were taken care of, and began preaching. His followers would refer to themselves as "Brothers", but more specifically the "Poor in Christ," "Poor in Spirit," or "Poor of Lyons" - they would later be known by their pejorative, the "Waldensians." For contemporary readers, the Waldensians seem simply like a very pious sect of Protestant Christianity, but at their time anything differing from the status quo was considered dangerous, especially in a place where the gnostic Cathars were flourishing.

In 1176, De Vaude sold his possessions and became a wandering preacher. By 1179 he had amassed a significant following, so much so that he had the attention of Pope Alexander III and was forbidden to teach. De Vaude and his brethren (there is little indication that females were prominent in the movement) continued to preach regardless of the order and five years later they were declared schismatics by Pope Lucius III and then excommunicated.

So what were De Vaude's insubordinations? His first effort was to fight for a literal interpretation of the Bible. Nowadays this is usually associated with fanaticism and regressive perspectives, but at that time the literal interpretation of the Bible meant what it is: help your fellow man. When Jesus says "sell your possessions and follow me" he, well, actually means it. Certainly the Catholic church could not have a problem with this. No. In fact, Pope Alexander III actually blessed their lifestyle. This is also the case with De Vaude's second effort to practice genuine poverty. While his contemporaries may not be falling over dead like Ananias and Sapphira, De Vaude most likely thought that the institution of tithing was a watered-down version of Jesus' teaching, a relic from Jewish first-fruits - genuine tithing was declaring absolute poverty in favour of spiritual fulfillment.

So if it wasn't the Biblical literalism or the absolute poverty, what was it? It actually wasn't what De Vaude was preaching, it was that he was preaching. De Vaude was a layman. Only clergy were allowed to preach on doctrinal matters. De Vaude had crossed the ecclesiastical boundary. A year after De Vaude's death in 1207, many of the brethren were indiscriminately murdered during the crusade against the Cathars and in 1215, the Poor of Lyons, orthodox in every way Catholic, apart from the ecclesiastical hierarchy, were officially declared heretics.

Needless to say, De Vaude is easily one of the most under-repesented heroes of church history, overshadowed by more "successful" calls to poverty, as in the case of Francis of Assisi, and a more politicized rejection of traditional authorities, as in the case of Martin Luther. Unlike Francis or Luther, de Vaude lived at a time where alternative views were not being sought out and ripe for massive change. He had no ulterior motives other than a call for church leadership to return to the ways of the disciples of their Christ.

I first read about Peter Waldo around the same time I was studying the Sermon on the Mount, and the impact of both would forever change my political and social views. Discussions between "hand-outs" and "hand-ups" became transparent and irrelevant. Somehow, going to Bible college, attending chapel and vespers, and proclaiming a love for Jesus became empty. Although my life would take me in a different direction, the story of Pierre de Vaude and his Poor of Lyons would remain, for me, a beacon of light among the darkness of Christian history.

I am in good company when I say that I don't even pretend to understand a fraction of Hegel's works; philosopher Bertrand Russell exclaims in the "History of Western Philosophy" that Hegel is the most difficult philosopher to comprehend. Yet Hegel's emphasis (or obsession?) on historical scholarship and his philosophy of dichotomies, dialectics, and absolute idealism cannot be ignored by any student of philosophy.

Most students first meet Hegel through the works of Karl Marx (or at least through works about Marx). Hegel's three-step dialectical method (thesis-antitheses-synthesis) served Marx's purpose for his own philosophic endeavours. Unfortunately for Marxist purists, the terminology of the dialectic is more "Hegelian" than "of Hegel" - this would late be expanded on by Fichte and exploited by Marx. I did not have this faux encounter with Hegel, rather, I first came across Hegel while reading Will Durant's "The Story of Philosophy." The historical dialectic certainly captured my attention; the more I thought about it, the more it made sense on a micro-philosophical basis. At the time I glazed over the rest of Hegel's concepts. Over the next couple of years he would appear, usually in reference to Marx, every now and again in classrooms, texts, and discussions.

It would not be until my final year of undergraduate studies that Hegel became a powerful influence in my philosophical thinking. Granted, it was not the famed historical dialectic that re-captured my attention, but his master/slave dichotomies (which is a triadic dialectic as well). The master/slave dichotomy is interesting because of its ramifications on identity and language - two of what are arguably the most critical tools for the scholar of religion. I will not get into a philosophy lesson here, but the master/slave struggle essentially shows mastery through slavery and the slavery of mastery. A master loses sovereignty simply by carrying out the duties of a master since the master needs the slave for his/her own recognition (there is no master without slaves). However, what sort of recognition can the slave really offer, if the slave is, in fact, lesser than the master (i.e. can a lesser fully recognize something greater)? The pinnacle of Hegel's argument arrives when he states that it is through the fear of death, a fear encapsulated by the position of the slave, that humans may experience their own authenticity/essence/existence. 

So why is this so influential in my own thinking? It is mainly the idea of perverted symbiosis in our day-to-day lives that attracts me to Hegel's thinking. Those figures that are in positions of power, political or otherwise, may only attain power, and more importantly, hold power, if others below them accept the position. Furthermore, people of power often lose their "humanity" in the eyes of others. Those in the public eye may be spoken about as if they are not human, and so we often here the self-identifying cliche by Hollywood stars and government officials, "I'm just a regular person."

So why did I pick the number 26 to start my list of the most influential thinkers in my life? Why not 25? Well, because I considered this 26th person as sort of a bonus, mainly because this man has had so much influence in the development as a critical thinker despite the fact that we don't really know much about him. What we do know about Arius of Alexandria is only through the works of the theologians that opposed him, notably Alexander of Alexandria and his successor, Athanasius. Arius of Alexandria (256-336 CE) was the son of a historical unknown, Ammonius, and was tutored by a "non-trinitarian" church leader, Lucian of Antioch.

Arius was ordained as a deacon by the the bishop of Alexandria (a very important post in pre-Nicene Christianity), Peter I, despite a previous unfriendly confrontation between the two. However, the reconciliation did not last and Peter I excommunicated Arius, only for Arius to be re-instated six years later by Peter's successor, Achillas, whom Arius had befriended. Achillas held Arius in such high esteem that in 313 CE, he made him presbyter of the Baucalis district in Alexandria, where Arius would continue his studies. That same year Achillas died and Arius had hoped to succeed Achillas office of Patriarch of Alexandria. The office, however, went to Alexander I, who the modern day "Church of Arian Catholicism" calls a "Sebellianist heretic" (Sebellianism is the view that Jesus and the Holy Spirit are "modes" of God, later called "Modalism", rather than the three distinct persons of future orthodoxy), an accusation I have not personally found evidence to support (although it was hardly be unbelievable).

At this point the records begin to get a little sketchy as the orthodox tradition has generally used Arius's indignation with his loss of the prestigious office as an impetus for his later heresies. However, since he was trained by a non-trinitarian church leader and was already stirring up trouble beforehand, it is hardly indubitable that he held the beliefs of the so-called "Arian heresies" much earlier than his failure to attain the Alexandrian patriarchy. Although the details and the specific reason are indefinite, Arius argued that Jesus, as Son of God, was not eternal and was subordinate to God the Father. Arius's heresy was influential to myself mainly as a consciousness-raising experience.

During my time at a conservative Bible College, Arius was, of course, never even mentioned (controversies during the early Christian period are avoided like the Bubonic plague). At said college, however, I searched as genuinely as possible for the absolute truth and held fast to the idea that it could be deciphered from the pages of the Bible. The problem with any student taking a deeper look into the Bible is that he or she will eventually come across some extremely problematic passages. I did. I came across a lot. Hoping for clarity, I dove even deeper - how have the theologians explained these spiritual conundrums? Yet their answers often complicated matters even moreso, or they were cheap tricks and excuses. While there were many of these issues, one became the center of my curiousity - the doctrine of the Trinity, stirred mainly by Mark 13:32:

Heaven and earth shall pass away: but my words shall not pass away. But of that day or that hour knows no one, not even the angels in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.

The usual magic trick for this verse is as follows: when Jesus came down from the heavens, he did not retain his divine omniscience. This, for very obvious and apparent reasons, did not sit well with someone who wanted to believe that Jesus was God incarnate without the casual exceptions or limitations on his Godhood: had Jesus wanted to move a mountain, he could very well have, he simply chose not to (see Mark 8:11-12). Confused, I delve a little more into the abyss of once questionable, but now indisputable, church doctrine. It is here that I found Arius - not in some special "Church Heretics" or even "Church History" course, but rather buried among the rhetoric of untaught histories of Biblical canonization and development of church orthodoxy.

Apparently I was not alone in finding odd passages throughout Scripture that just did not jive with the complicated theological models we now had. If Jesus was truly God incarnate, does it not seem odd that his human form would limit him in such a mundane way? Peter, James, John, and Andrew were not challenging Jesus to create a rock he himself could not lift - they were simply asking when the temple was going to be demolished. This cryptic nature of Jesus, especially in the Gospel of Mark, would be the beginning of much further study and essentially was my door to the world of Biblical criticism. Arius's heresy became a symbol of my continuing search for truth.

Resources

• Catholic Encyclopedia entry on Arius
• Arian-Catholic biography of Arius
• Encyclopedia Britannica entry on Arius
• Catholic Encyclopedia entry on Alexander
• Alexander's Letter Against Arius
• Athanasius' 4 Discourses Against the Arians
• Eusebius' Letter on the Council of Nicea
• Constantine's Opposition to Arius

Several years ago I watched a special on, I believe, A & E, documenting who they believed to be the 100 most influential people of the millennium. Lists like those are always controversial - are Spielberg (#91) and Jane Austen (#63) really worthy to be one of the top 100? - and their methods are questionable at best - how can one really say that Machiavelli (#46) is more influential than Magellan (#55)? Despite these shortcomings, I continued to watch the show with keen interest to find out that Gutenberg, Newton, and Luther rounded out the top 3. I continue to keep my eye out for these sort of lists: a guilty pleasure that I justify by saying I am more interested in the erratic methodologies than the list themselves. Lately, however, I have wondered whom, apart of the obvious parental and academic authority figures, I could list to be as the most influential people in my life - so I began a list, if only to satisfy the uber-nerd in me.

For the next while I will post the top 26 thinkers that have been the most influential to me, a 24.5 year-old white male from Canada who is on the cusp of defeating the endless spell of undergraduate studies. I do this mainly in order to crush my recent writer’s block and to invigorate my recent mental sloppiness.

First, a couple foreword notes. I stated my age, sex, and geographical position for a reason. This is my list of influential people. It is of no use to others other than to be used as sparks of curiousity. It is not meant to be my view of who are the most influential people that have ever lived for everyone, but who are the most influential to me. That said, you will regrettably not find many women or thinkers outside of the western intellectual traditions. The majority of my studies have been in religious traditions and western philosophy, both of which have been notoriously patriarchal (although I do love Virginia Woolf’s quote, “For most of history, Anonymous was a woman”).

Although it seems somewhat frivolous, I must insist on mentioning that just because someone has deeply influenced you, it does not mean that you agree with everything, or even most things. In my posts, I will outline why said person is influential to me and will not debate aspects of any particular thinker that may be specifically problematic.

So, in order to keep some sense of suspense, I will not list my top 26 - I will merely post my blogs from the 26th most influential to the most influential. However, I will list here some honourable mentions that will not be on my top 26:
Aristotle, Baruch de Spinoza, Bertrand Russell, Charles Darwin, Constantine the Great, Isaac Newton, Martin Luther, Thomas Aquinas, David Hume, Paul Tillich, Murray Bookchin, Peter Kropotkin, Robert Nozick, and Jacques Derrida. Some of these people will be the philosophical parents of the people on my list, but I could not justify some of the great thinkers due to either my vehement disagreement or my simple ignorance of their works.

1. An infallible, inerrant, inspired Holy Book contains no fallacies or errors.

2. The aforementioned Book states that 'penguins do not exist'.

3. Penguins exist.

4. (3) conflicts with (2).

5. If (3) is true, (1) is false.

6. If (1) is true, (3) is a trick of the devil.

P.S. This post has nothing to do with my previous post. 

Last summer, the Wall Street Journal published an article about a soon to be released magazine. I did not read it. I wish I would have. That September, GOOD Magazine hit the stores on the eve of the US midterm elections. I did not see it in any of my regular stores (ie. Save on Foods, Indigo Chapters, etc.). Apparently it made the shelves of Whole Foods, Barnes and Noble and Borders (which all have in common that they are exclusively American). Fast-forward to March 3, 2007. My wife went to go change a smelly diaper while we were shopping in the West Edmonton Mall, I happily marched to the Chapters outlet. I was already drinking a Green Tea slushy sensation from Second Cup so I skipped past Starbucks towards the magazine section. Ah, a new Adbusters and… what is this? A snazzy looking magazine with four huge letters: G-O-O-D.

It was issue 003, “The Media Issue.” I squatted down, trying to find a comfortable position that did not completely obstruct others from the best part of the magazine section (Harpers, New Yorker, Adbusters, Walrus, Time, etc.). I picked up the magazine and sifted through and found myself impressed after a brief look before my wife returned. The magazine was only $5.95 CDN, so I purchased it. A couple hours later I took a deeper look. Pages five and six included grainy pictures of real-life advertising with slogans such as “ABUSE OF POWER COMES AS NO SURPRISE” and “KISSING DOESN’T KILL: GREED AND INDIFFERENCE DO,” the latter with scenes of three kissing couples - a heterosexual couple, a gay couple, and a lesbian couple - all interracial. The ads to come, although not overtly political, were almost entirely made up of socially-conscious products or independent films.

And that’s only the ads. The design is immaculate, integrating easy-to-read functionality with abstract creativeness: a cross between National Geographic and, well, Adbusters. Likewise, the content is substantial, relevant, and significant. From articles concerning water parks in Africa to the ratings of world democracies to the stalwart grandeur of HBO, GOOD is a damn good magazine “for people who give a damn.” Their “Transparency” section uses, literally and figuratively, black and white facts that remind readers how little we know about those things that we pretend to know about. Sure, you know there is some animosity between Sunni and Shiite Muslims, but what’s the diff? You “know” Big Brother is watching, but how many cameras are in Time Square, NY?

The magazine is entertaining and informative, but what right does it have to call itself GOOD? While it probably does not meet Jesus’ standard of good (see Mark 10:18), the magazine boasts probably the most innovative scheme to build circulation: give 100% of subscription fees to charity. For Americans, your $20 fee goes straight to one of twelve charities, including Millennium Promise, Teach for America, and UNICEF. So while a magazine like Adbusters is busy using any extra dough to pay its legal cases (libel, copyright, etc.), GOOD appears to actually be doing some useful activism on top of merely educating the general public.

Check out the GOOD Magazine website.

Thanks to Jim for the graphic.

There is a lot of hoopla out there concerning the use of “Web 2.0″ as a “buzzword”. There is also a lot of dialogue within the philosophic community in regards to the effect that the relations created by community is having on today’s society. Obvious examples comes to mind: Myspace, YouTube, Digg, Del.icio.us, Wikipedia. I can guarantee that there is a PhD student right now, somewhere, working on a thesis concerned with such matters.

Although I am interested, I certainly cannot consider myself an authority or even remotely qualified to tackle the philosophical questions that have been raised by the so-called “Web 2.0″. Where my area of future expertise is interested is in the growing “metaphysics” of the web - the “collective consciousness 2.0″ if you will. Problems of identity within this new consciousness are all too apparent and come up in the crudest of places - such as in the legal troubles of copyright or the existentialist issue of “internet schizophrenia”.

I was recently talking to a friend of mine over concerns he had, as a fledging musician, with copyright infringement and the internet. This, of course, is nothing new, but there is a lot more at stake here than just legalities and royalties. One famous metaphor, often used in first-year logic courses, comes to mind. Consider a wooden boat, built in the late-1700s. 50 years go by and some of the planks that make the boat start to rot and are in need of some serious repair. However, the industrial revolution has encouraged the use of metal and so the owner starts replacing some sections of the wooden boat with metal. The boat, of course, is still the same boat. As time goes on, it takes its toll on the boat - more wooden sections must be replaced, and it is done so with the same metal as before. This goes on over the next couple of years. Eventually the boat is entirely made of metal. Is it the same boat? This same question arises, albeit in extremely complicated ways, when “art” or “culture” is involved.

I found the following video today which tackles some of the things I have been thinking about recently. Take a look. (Kudos to Michael Wesch of Kansas State University)

Judging by the last two blog titles, you’re probably thinking that I have some sort of theme going on. Although it was not intentional, it was probably my last post (religion and post-postmodernism) that automatically had me responding to this article in this way. If you do not want to bother reading it, here are the important facts: Harvard needs to update its core curriculum, Harvard’s Task Force on General Education proposed a required category “Reason & Faith”, enough critics (led by scientists, “of course”) marched against the category and forced the change to “What It Means To Be a Human Being”.

First of all, the new category name is intuitively awkward and almost purposely silly. So what was the case against “Reason and Faith”? According to Harvard psychology professor, Steven Pinker, having such a requirement is comparable to having an “Astronomy and Astrology” requirement. This is a Harvard professor. Apart from his horrible comparison, Pinker just doesn’t seem to get the whole “Reason and Faith thing”. He states he does not mind that world religions be taught, but will not tolerate it as a requirement. His reason is not stated in the article, but there are not many ways to interpret his attitude: science is real, religion is not; let’s study what matters. Read the rest of this entry »

I have been in recent contact with an old friend of mine from my Bible college days, which has spurred the start of what could be a great discussion (he is currently out the the country and so we are limited to email). While responding to some questions he had, I found myself referring to the so-called “post-postmodern” era, also known as the “performatist” era (see Tom Turner’s City as Landscape). For artistic elitists or amateur philosophers, this term is probably familiar; for others, this term is not only counter-intuitive, but possibly absurd or downright silly. I concur. Read the rest of this entry »