Well after about a year, and 110 posts, I have decided to call it quits on my blog. Why? Well because blogging and philosophy are incommensurable.

Blogging is at its best when it is crisply written, relevant and catchy – philosophy is at its best when it is terribly written, irrelevant to all but a few, and absurdly dreary and technical. Also, blogging flattens out complexity, whereas philosophy tries to map out complexity in fine detail, patiently searching for small steps forward. Blogging is about personal interaction and entertainment, and philosophy, alas, is often an impersonal and unentertaining activity.

This all may sound like I’m a defeatist of kinds, or that I’m experiencing some bitterness towards my chosen specialization. Far from it! I want to get even better at philosophy. Blogging, however, will have no place in this. At least for the next little while.

My parting advice to the loyal reader? Read a book. And then think about it.

Next week I have the privilege of running a seminar at the Sydney University Evangelical Union’s Annual Conference on Christianity and philosophy. I’m calling the seminar, ‘If you are a Christian, how come you study philosophy?’ (The title was originally reaching for a G. A. Cohen pun, but I’m quite sure no one will get it).

Anyway, I am still working on the seminar and trying to read a lot of the literature that presents a number of different takes on the issue. Can anyone recommend any important articles, chapters, books, blog posts, pamphlets, treatises, epistles, papal bulls, apologies, summas, or polemics to read on the subject? Since I’ve never studied theology, I’m particularly interested in recommendations from that perspective…

The society we have described can never grow into a reality or see the light  of day, and  there will be no end to the troubles of states, or indeed, my dear Glaucon, of humanity itself, till philosophers become kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers.

Plato, The Republic, 473d

The idea of a philosopher king is generally taken to be one of Plato’s most abhorrent views. He seemed to think that a very small group of people should wield political power. A very small group of people who shared a particular vision, had been enculturated into a certain way of life, came from a similar background, and shared a narrow set of values to do with all matters of life and governance. This idea is thought to be so abhorrent because it sounds so elitest, in privileging some group over all other groups, and so undemocratic, in not allowing the people to have sufficient  influence or control over the government.

Yesterday’s political events, in which Kevin Rudd stepped down as PM and Julia Gillard replaced him, leave a bitterly undemocratic taste in my mouth. Who would have thought that in a democratic country like Australia, a small, mysterious group of people who share a particular vision, have been enculturated into a certain way of life, come from a similar background, and share a narrow set of values are able to change the leader of the country? Moreover, who would have thought  that they are able to do so with such obscure, private, political reasons?

Democracy my foot!

Someone (I think Simon Critchley?) once said that Dostoevsky’s books make for a better introduction to philosophy than most ‘introduction to philosophy’ books. I think the same is true of Ian McEwan’s Saturday (2005). If you are interested in ethics, the philosophy of mind, politics or moral psychology, this book makes a superb introduction, throwing into an interesting light many central concerns of those areas.

Philosophical questions get a grip on us, I think, once we are provoked into reflection about how complicated and opaque we and our world are. Literature (and art in general) is particularly capable of providing this provocation, and this book does so in spades. 

If I were designing an intro-to-philosophy type course, this book would definitely be on the summer reading list.

Contemporary analytic philosophy is ambivalent towards what it calls our ‘pre-philosophical convictions.’ A number of recent philosophers have noted that we come to philosophy with a number of convictions already, and we oughtn’t try to hide these. Perhaps we value freedom, perhaps we believe in God, perhaps we are convinced that the world could have been arranged some other way. Either way, these convictions are not strictly the results of philosophical inquiry, but are just convictions that we just have.

A couple of good examples of this way of philosophizing are John Rawls and Alvin Plantinga. John Rawls was deeply committed to a defense of his pre-philosophical convictions about liberal democracy and justice; and Alvin Plantinga is deeply committed to a defense of his pre-philosophical convictions about the existence of the Christian God and the rationality of theistic belief.

Contemporary philosophers are split about whether this new trend (and when I say ‘new’, it’s been going on for 50 years!) is good or bad, but many think it is a positive step, and I’m inclined to agree.

One thing it reveals, though, is how radical the Protestant doctrine of sola scriptura is. Christians are people who are committed to revising potentially any and all of their pre-biblical commitments, if they come to believe that the biblical narrative points us towards some certain truth. How scary is that!

Proof that Christians are braver than philosophers!

I have been enjoying the series over on Andrew Katay’s blog about (among other things) his stance towards the New Perspectives on Paul. As someone who has been greatly encouraged by the writings of the most popular author associated with this movement, N. T. Wright, and as a person with strong Evangelical convictions, I thought I would engage in a little sociological speculation as to why N. T. Wright is able to whip us Evangelicals up into such a defensive and somewhat confused frenzy.

The reason is, I suggest, that Evangelicalism harbors an uneasy alliance between a deep conservatism and the radical Protestant principle of sola scriptura. Let me explain.

Evangelicalism is a conservative cultural movement. By this, I don’t mean that it holds old-fashioned views, or is committed to certain political values of one stripe or another. I mean that it is a movement that will always try to conserve existing structures, practices, systems and values, before it will try to change existing structures, practices, systems and values. The opposite of this institutional attitude would be something like a progressivism that is disposed to challenge existing arrangements, and frequently try out new structures, practices, systems and values. In the abstract, I don’t think either is better, and in their most popular incarnations, viz. as political models, they both have their excesses and blind spots. Combine this conservative disposition with a hierarchical and deferential institutional arrangement, and you have a recipe for a cultural movement that is geared towards maintaining the status quo of its own organization and collective self-conception. So that’s the first peg: Evangelicalism tends to be, and certainly is in Sydney, conservative in the sense just described.

The second peg is this. My little corner of Evangelicalism is also proudly and strongly committed to its Reformed heritage, and this is often given expression by affirming the five sola‘s, one of which is sola scriptura. However you want to fill this out, sola scriptura will end up meaning something like: the bible is to be the sole authority in matters of life and doctrine. Or as one of our own poets has said, the chief hallmark of Evangelicalism is the disposition to believe whatever the bible can be accurately shown to teach, and to allow this to deeply shape peoples’ lives. This is a radical doctrine because it lays out a strong, one-way principle of authority. Evangelicalism always claims to put itself under the authority of whatever scripture can be accurately shown to teach. Therefore, Evangelicalism is never in a position to maintain any of its settled habits, convictions, values or institutions if they turn out to be opposed by the bible.

So. What happens when a conservative sociological movement is told that by its own lights, it has been getting some things wrong? What happens when a conservative movement is told that it has good reasons, in virtue of a consideration that it values terribly highly, that some part of the status quo - be it doctrinal, institutional, or cultural – has got to go? Well. It freaks out! It is predisposed to take exactly these kinds of reasons more seriously than any other reasons, but it is also predisposed, well, not to change. One part of its self-conception directly clashes with another. Call this, the existential crisis of Evangelicalism.

In my opinion, this is what seems to be happening with Evangelicalism’s reaction to N. T. Wright. The reason N. T. Wright generates so much heat is because he confronts Evangelicalism with an instance of this crisis moment. He fundamentally agrees with Evangelicalism that understanding and listening to the bible is supremely important. But he believes that popular Evangelicalism, in some measure, can improve in doing just that. His message is, in some part, that Evangelicalism ought to let its conservative tendencies give way to its sola scriptura commitments, at least on some important front.

I’m sure that N.T. Wright isn’t the first critic from within to be received in such a way by Evangelicalism. It would be interesting for a historian to fill out this picture by recounting how Evangelicalism has dealt with what I’ve called its existential crisis at other points in its history.

“Philosophy without the history of philosophy, if not empty or blind, is at least dumb.”

- Wilfrid Sellars, Sciene and Metaphysics: Variations on Kantian Themes (1965)

My good friend Angus Courtney has started his own podcast! It’s very good, and can be found either on iTunes under ‘Dwarfs and Giants’, or on his website http://www.dwarfsandgiants.com/

The podcasts seem to be about history and theology, particularly about how history may have subtly shaped theological ideas and our reactions to them. If you are into either of these topics, or are into listening to smooth, calming baritones speak to you through your iPod, you should check it out!

I’ll be listening.

Every now and then a song comes along and reminds me that music is one of my favourtie things in life. Thanks to Bel for putting me onto this little number!

I am about halfway through the new book by the good bishop, aka. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Ostensibly it is about the remainder of life after conversion, and particularly the importance of character. I’m finding it really stimulating and helpful. The book is trying to fry several fish at once, which at times makes it seem a little unfocused, but its main thoughts emerge clearly enough. The main point could be put like this (apologies to the author for my sloppy summary):

Humans have been created with a job to do. The Ancient Greeks like Plato and Aristotle knew this, and this is why they talked about virtue so much. Virtue is just a rough-and-ready translation of the Greek word arête which also means something like ‘excellence’, or ‘success’. The Greeks answered these questions falsely, but they were onto something with making virtue an important ethical category. To answer the question, ‘What is it to live a virtuous life?’ or ‘What is an excellent human life?’ or ‘What is a life of success?’ we need to have an answer to question of the ends of humanity. What is the purpose of humanity? What is its role in creation? What did God create and redeem humans to do? Answering these questions Christianly, must involve telling the story of the creator God, his relationship with Israel, and the job the disciples took upon themselves after the resurrection.

The book’s answers to these questions have been a little inspiring. At once they have tried to be more descriptive than ’give glory to God’, and more motivating then ‘don’t sin’. Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite.

Worship and stewardship, generating justice and beauty: these are the primary vocations of God’s redeemed people. And the habits of the heart, mind, and life to which we are called are designed to form us, gradually and bit by bit, into people who can, with the hard-won “second nature” that we call virtue, freely and gladly take forward these tasks.

- N. T. Wright, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters (2010), p. 83

Like his previous Surprised by Hope (2007), this is a really accessible book that is aimed at the popular level. It does a great job of retelling the whole biblical narrative, and presenting an account of how disparate parts of the bible fit together into the one story. Along the way it reclaims some important spiritual terrain of everyday life that evangelicals of the past few decades have been in danger of abandoning – including the importance and role of aesthetics, justice and work.

Heartily recommended!

p.s. I have a North American copy of the book, published by Harper Collins. In the past, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has published his popular level books with different publishers in North America and the rest of the world, and sometimes with entirely different titles. So if you’re hunting for this book in Australia, it may have a different name and cover. All part of his cunning ‘shock and awe’ infiltration tactics designed to distract us I suppose!