I didn't get around to asking these questions in class today, but they relate to our discussion of the anti-Semite: can critical thinking help us reach people who don't value it? Presumably we want racists to replace prejudice with understanding and appreciation. Some people believe that this change has to come from within. But assuming that we can do something to further this goal, how do we communicate with people so set in their ways that they reject a rational analysis of their beliefs?
Mark Twain said "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." I think this is part of the answer. What do you think?
(Aside: How funny, I just heard an ad on one of my online radio stations for studying abroad at NYU.)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Gone Fission
I would like to expand the argument I started to make last class that objective knowledge can neither be inherently dangerous nor safe. I think this topic came up in our discussion of whether or not a teacher should shield certain students from a specific piece of knowledge because of immoral implications. This issue fascinates me, but in this post I'd like to focus on the nature of objective knowledge itself.
I make the ontological assumption that there exists a universe external to myself. I consider objective knowledge to be truths about this universe that have passed public tests of validity. Nuclear fission is one example of objective knowledge. Objective knowledge helps us understand the universe in which we live. The process of gathering objective knowledge forms the basis of all branches of mathematics and hard science.
Properties of the universe, in and of themselves, can neither harm nor help anyone. Their existence is neither inherently good nor inherently bad. In order to begin categorizing these properties as good or bad, we have to learn of their existence. This objective knowledge is our understanding of the properties of the universe, and it is closely related to but distinctly separate from the properties themselves. (Our observation of the properties may change them, but that is an issue for another essay)
So now we are once removed from the properties themselves, in that we have objective knowledge about them. Imagine, then, a third layer: we project the value judgments required to determine something's goodness or badness onto objective knowledge. The distinction between helpful or harmful is not a characteristic of the objective knowledge, nor is it an aspect of the properties themselves.
Let's return to nuclear fission to illustrate this idea. Nuclear fission is a chemical process that occurs in man-made situations and the natural world, although the latter happens less frequently. This process is inherently neither harmful nor helpful. I argue that the knowledge gained from learning about spontaneous nuclear fission and conducting nuclear fission experiments is neither good nor bad. (It may be harder to argue that the experiments themselves are also benign because of the risks involved, immense financial cost, the waste material produced... there are probably additional reasons.)
Harm and help can only be determined when the knowledge of nuclear fission is applied to social interactions, whether within one society in particular or all of humanity. Knowledge of nuclear fission can be used to make nuclear weapons, which have controversial moral implications in Western society because they have the power to destroy life, and we value life. But this doesn't make nuclear fission dangerous knowledge.
That's all for now. Any thoughts?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
I make the ontological assumption that there exists a universe external to myself. I consider objective knowledge to be truths about this universe that have passed public tests of validity. Nuclear fission is one example of objective knowledge. Objective knowledge helps us understand the universe in which we live. The process of gathering objective knowledge forms the basis of all branches of mathematics and hard science.
Properties of the universe, in and of themselves, can neither harm nor help anyone. Their existence is neither inherently good nor inherently bad. In order to begin categorizing these properties as good or bad, we have to learn of their existence. This objective knowledge is our understanding of the properties of the universe, and it is closely related to but distinctly separate from the properties themselves. (Our observation of the properties may change them, but that is an issue for another essay)
So now we are once removed from the properties themselves, in that we have objective knowledge about them. Imagine, then, a third layer: we project the value judgments required to determine something's goodness or badness onto objective knowledge. The distinction between helpful or harmful is not a characteristic of the objective knowledge, nor is it an aspect of the properties themselves.
Let's return to nuclear fission to illustrate this idea. Nuclear fission is a chemical process that occurs in man-made situations and the natural world, although the latter happens less frequently. This process is inherently neither harmful nor helpful. I argue that the knowledge gained from learning about spontaneous nuclear fission and conducting nuclear fission experiments is neither good nor bad. (It may be harder to argue that the experiments themselves are also benign because of the risks involved, immense financial cost, the waste material produced... there are probably additional reasons.)
Harm and help can only be determined when the knowledge of nuclear fission is applied to social interactions, whether within one society in particular or all of humanity. Knowledge of nuclear fission can be used to make nuclear weapons, which have controversial moral implications in Western society because they have the power to destroy life, and we value life. But this doesn't make nuclear fission dangerous knowledge.
That's all for now. Any thoughts?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Monday, October 18, 2010
Please excuse this slight detour from our class material...
In one of my classes today I wished that the professor* leading our discussion was a student in our Philosophy of Teaching, Learning, and Knowing class. He said some things about Plato that I didn't agree with. (I.e. he told us that Plato believed art and poetry are merely copies of copies, and thus they are far removed from Truth.) He brought this up simply in comparison to our discussion topic, so I didn't want to correct him because it would slow down the class discussion, which would be disrespectful to my fellow students. I also thought that I should respect his position as teacher by acknowledging that he may have had some purpose for simplifying Plato that I do not comprehend. I think that excessive nit-picking is disrespectful anyway. What he said about Plato wasn't heinously wrong, though I think he over-simplified. Regardless, I felt that his comparison between Plato and our discussion topic was legitimate, for our purposes, so I kept mum on the subject.... until now.
Should teacher-student relationships include the possibility of remonstration? And if they should, how and when should it be done?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
*Author's Note: I avoided mentioning the name of the professor, class, and subject matter on purpose.
Should teacher-student relationships include the possibility of remonstration? And if they should, how and when should it be done?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
*Author's Note: I avoided mentioning the name of the professor, class, and subject matter on purpose.
Monday, October 11, 2010
"Handing a student who challenges your expertise with an insightful question"
I love the webcomic "xkcd". This one is especially pertinent to the pedagogical aims of our class. Look below or check out the original at the following url: http://www.xkcd.com/803/
I wish that Socrates would respond to his students' questions more often with the "right" response, but usually he settles for the "wrong" one. But on the other side of the desk, I wish that Adimantus and Glaucon would challenge Socrates more often. They often force him to elaborate on certain issues, which hopefully helps them learn better. But I don't think they exhibit much of the critical thinking skills that Socrates (may have) wanted them to develop. Do Socrates' goals of keeping his students out of politics and teaching them to think critically conflict with one another? And what, if anything, is Socrates learning from his students if they accept everything he says at face value? If he tailors everything in the conversation to fit his goal of keeping his students out of politics, then Socrates is interrupting the natural flow of conversation and philosophical thought process. And how does Socrates know that keeping his students out of politics is what's best for Athens anyway?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Re: "Experiential Learning"
In response to Michael’s post, “Experiential Learning” (Proper grammar for quoting blog post titles?) http://morepageswithmaps.blogspot.com/2010/09/experiential-learning.html#comments
The Objective Arts
I read a lot growing up because it was fun and easy for me. Reading was strongly encouraged in my house. My parents encouraged me to join humanities and communication arts magnet programs, which seriously strengthened my reading and writing capabilities. I think this has definitely improved my capability for abstract thought. Discussion-oriented classes engage me more than lecture-based classes, as long as the professor knows what he's doing. I can’t learn by just listening and taking notes, though I do appreciate the power of a great lecture.
Since middle school I've had trouble with the more analytical disciplines because actually doing math and science often bores me, and because I have the annoying tendency of only wanting to practice what I naturally excel at doing. However, I often enjoy learning about certain mathematical and scientific concepts (it’s actually doing math and science that bugs me).
Some disciplines, like physics and biology, interest me but require too much of something I don't like (math and memorization, respectively) for me to pursue them to the same degree that I pursue the humanities. However, sometimes I enjoy learning about them in the classroom, and especially via informal discussion and reading on my own time. I've often yearned to be disciplined enough to tackle the hard sciences so I would fully understand all the interesting stuff they can offer. Alas, you have to sit through a lot of boring crap before you're ready to know anything interesting ( I'd say this applies to the humanities as well).
Liberal arts classes may not be as subjective as you think. If you consider the philosophy toolkit version of subjective/objective (see page 5) then a claim can be objective even if it is not the only one of its kind, as long as there exists a public method for investigating its cogency. So just because a historical event or philosophical text has multiple interpretations doesn’t mean you can claim anything you want. You have to support any claim you make with verifiable truths. And in so-called “objective” disciplines, the upper levels of math and science can offer room for creativity and interpretation (ex. writing algebraic proofs). And often this open-endedness can be frustratingly ambiguous (so I’m told).
With that said, I do sympathize with your frustration regarding the liberal arts. When I took Philosophy 101 and Introduction to Hinduism one semester, I felt myself missing math for the first time ever. Though originally I wanted to be a Philosophy major, I’ve discovered that I enjoy cultural studies more on the whole, in part because they strike a nice balance between interpretation and fact that I can’t quite get from Philosophy.
Michael, I hope this ramble has been somewhat helpful to you.
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
The Objective Arts
I read a lot growing up because it was fun and easy for me. Reading was strongly encouraged in my house. My parents encouraged me to join humanities and communication arts magnet programs, which seriously strengthened my reading and writing capabilities. I think this has definitely improved my capability for abstract thought. Discussion-oriented classes engage me more than lecture-based classes, as long as the professor knows what he's doing. I can’t learn by just listening and taking notes, though I do appreciate the power of a great lecture.
Since middle school I've had trouble with the more analytical disciplines because actually doing math and science often bores me, and because I have the annoying tendency of only wanting to practice what I naturally excel at doing. However, I often enjoy learning about certain mathematical and scientific concepts (it’s actually doing math and science that bugs me).
Some disciplines, like physics and biology, interest me but require too much of something I don't like (math and memorization, respectively) for me to pursue them to the same degree that I pursue the humanities. However, sometimes I enjoy learning about them in the classroom, and especially via informal discussion and reading on my own time. I've often yearned to be disciplined enough to tackle the hard sciences so I would fully understand all the interesting stuff they can offer. Alas, you have to sit through a lot of boring crap before you're ready to know anything interesting ( I'd say this applies to the humanities as well).
Liberal arts classes may not be as subjective as you think. If you consider the philosophy toolkit version of subjective/objective (see page 5) then a claim can be objective even if it is not the only one of its kind, as long as there exists a public method for investigating its cogency. So just because a historical event or philosophical text has multiple interpretations doesn’t mean you can claim anything you want. You have to support any claim you make with verifiable truths. And in so-called “objective” disciplines, the upper levels of math and science can offer room for creativity and interpretation (ex. writing algebraic proofs). And often this open-endedness can be frustratingly ambiguous (so I’m told).
With that said, I do sympathize with your frustration regarding the liberal arts. When I took Philosophy 101 and Introduction to Hinduism one semester, I felt myself missing math for the first time ever. Though originally I wanted to be a Philosophy major, I’ve discovered that I enjoy cultural studies more on the whole, in part because they strike a nice balance between interpretation and fact that I can’t quite get from Philosophy.
Michael, I hope this ramble has been somewhat helpful to you.
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Friday, September 24, 2010
Plato is to Devorak what I am to Qwerty
I am typing this on Sharon's Macbook (thank you Sharon!) and the keyboard is Devorak but we switched the software to Qwerty because I am way too impatient to hunt and peck. Just wanted to let y'all know.
Attention students taking the Philosophy of Teaching, Learning, and Knowing: you should be here with me eating Sharon's brownies and getting ready to watch Memento. Shame on you!
Kidding, of course. I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend so far.
Now that the preamble is over...
Whenever I listen to literary analysis of any book, I wonder what the author's real intentions were in writing it. While I think our class' interpretations of Plato's Republic are usually reasonable, I wish Plato could give us feedback on our ideas. I wonder if we can make true interpretations that weren't intended by the author. If we can, does that mean that Plato's ideas continue to develop long after his death? Not just last through the ages, but actually grow and adapt to modern minds and situations? Can literary ideas develop beyond an author's understanding and intention?
Don't get me wrong, I think interpreting literature is a noble and worthwhile pursuit. There are just some times when I feel like that guy in Annie Hall, when the screenwriter tells him that his interpretations were crap, he got everything wrong...
As always,
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Attention students taking the Philosophy of Teaching, Learning, and Knowing: you should be here with me eating Sharon's brownies and getting ready to watch Memento. Shame on you!
Kidding, of course. I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend so far.
Now that the preamble is over...
Whenever I listen to literary analysis of any book, I wonder what the author's real intentions were in writing it. While I think our class' interpretations of Plato's Republic are usually reasonable, I wish Plato could give us feedback on our ideas. I wonder if we can make true interpretations that weren't intended by the author. If we can, does that mean that Plato's ideas continue to develop long after his death? Not just last through the ages, but actually grow and adapt to modern minds and situations? Can literary ideas develop beyond an author's understanding and intention?
Don't get me wrong, I think interpreting literature is a noble and worthwhile pursuit. There are just some times when I feel like that guy in Annie Hall, when the screenwriter tells him that his interpretations were crap, he got everything wrong...
As always,
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The Art of Picking Classes
While I was reading Book V of Plato's Republic I experienced a mini-revelation. I have been pursuing my collegiate education in much the same way that Socrates has been preparing his guardians to become good and just. He allows them to learn in ways which he deems "good," such as physical and cultural education, but he limits or eliminates anything that might corrupt the guardians, such as music and poetry. By surrounding the guardians with the good and the just, he hopes that they will become good and just, the best possible rulers for this city of words.
I have tried to take classes at St. Mary's in large part according to which professors my friends and acquaintances love the most. So far it has worked out fabulously well in terms of how much I enjoy the classes. But something Matt has said several times in class, about being able to learn a lot from people you don't like (ex. Alan Bloom), got me thinking... am I missing something?
It is all well and good to seek out people who are beloved for their wisdom and humor, professors who are purported to be good teachers. But by surrounding myself with only the wise and good, am I missing out on what I can learn from "worse" teachers? And should I be allowing my peers to influence my opinions of professors, and consequently the classes I take, in such a profound manner, before I have even met said professors? This way I miss out on any opportunity to discover for myself a great professor who may be underrated by his students. And the reverse is true - I may be taking at face value the reputations of good professors without really wondering if they deserve such praise. (Though in actuality I sincerely think all the highly-lauded professors I've had here did deserve their praise, but in a more theoretical sense I might run into someone who didn't.)
Thoughts?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
I have tried to take classes at St. Mary's in large part according to which professors my friends and acquaintances love the most. So far it has worked out fabulously well in terms of how much I enjoy the classes. But something Matt has said several times in class, about being able to learn a lot from people you don't like (ex. Alan Bloom), got me thinking... am I missing something?
It is all well and good to seek out people who are beloved for their wisdom and humor, professors who are purported to be good teachers. But by surrounding myself with only the wise and good, am I missing out on what I can learn from "worse" teachers? And should I be allowing my peers to influence my opinions of professors, and consequently the classes I take, in such a profound manner, before I have even met said professors? This way I miss out on any opportunity to discover for myself a great professor who may be underrated by his students. And the reverse is true - I may be taking at face value the reputations of good professors without really wondering if they deserve such praise. (Though in actuality I sincerely think all the highly-lauded professors I've had here did deserve their praise, but in a more theoretical sense I might run into someone who didn't.)
Thoughts?
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The Art of Parenting
According to Plato's Republic, when, if ever, would Socrates/Plato believe that it is moral for a parent to physically punish his or her child?
In 355e of Plato's Republic, the character Socrates concludes that it is never right for a moral person to harm anyone. But he doesn't explain whether or not a moral person may be forced to hurt someone because no better alternative exists.
On first glance, it would seem that Socrates is against parents hurting their children as motivation for them to stop severely misbehaving. As he explains in 347 d-e, good rulers (stronger) look out for the well-being of their subjects (weaker), so a moral person would look out for the well-being of people who are less moral. If I apply this metaphor to the art of parenting, then (stronger) good parents and custodial guardians look out for the well-being of their children (weaker), and according to Socrates, this involves not hurting them.
But what if the parents have no other options? Parents try to motivate their children to respect them, and punish children when they are disrespected. Parents who allow a disobedient child to continue disrespecting them because they have not found an effective method of changing his behavior definitely are not looking out for their child's best interests. He will boss peers and authority figures around until someone stands up to him, and when this happens it will take a lot of time and patience to teach him how to respect others. He will probably be confused and angry because he does not understand his place in the social hierarchy - he might lash out physically and/or emotionally at others until he is stopped. Surely no moral parent wants this for his or her child.
Let us assume that the most gentle forms of reprimand have already been employed (ex. asking for an apology and to stop the bad behavior, giving warnings if he doesn't comply). If physical punishment is only employed as a last ditch effort, when parents believe that they're out of options, it may be in the child's best interests, much as it pains both parties to do so. If successful, then this small suffering now may prevent greater suffering later.
As long as the smallest amount of violence possible was used, I think Socrates would not believe parents who employ physical punishments were immoral necessarily, though perhaps he'd think them too impatient or unimaginative.
*Author's Note*
I hope this essay has not offended anyone. This essay does not represent my personal views, but what I think Plato or Socrates might say. I'm not sure how uncommon it was during Socrates' time for Greek parents to smack their children around if they misbehaved. If this was a common cultural practice, it may affect his views on the subject.
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Just So Art
If you're hoping for an interpretation of Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Best you turn back now.
When I go to art museums, I like watching the people as much as I enjoy looking at the art. Especially museums in DC, which cost nothing to see, and are located in an international city teeming with tourists from other states and countries. I love listening to the hodge podge of languages surrounding me. Some will talk about everything but the art on the walls, and some insist on enlightening any willing ear on the history and importance of each piece. I am generally a quiet observer, though when a piece is especially good I will express my satisfaction, and discuss its merits with friends or family.
I'm certain that knowing art history and/or composition better would grant me further insights on what makes a piece of good art, and perhaps I would even enjoy it more. I would never discourage someone from learning as much as they wanted to know about art and its creators. Though I personally have very little interest in art history, I like reading those little plaques that briefly explain an artist's life and/or mission in creating his work. But I consider this epistemologically different from appreciating the art itself. And, if someone were to know everything in the universe that could be known about art but refused to allow themselves to react genuinely to their subjects of study when viewed - in other words, if they analyzed the art to death but squashed their emotional response to the pieces - they would understand art less than an uneducated child gazing in awe at the Statue of David.
Art must speak to me on its own, without any historical or social context. When I like a piece of art, it's not because of its political commentary, or what it did for any social movement. Something about the piece must reach out to me on its own merit, independent of anything objective I could learn about the artist. It sings to me with colors, shapes, and lines, something beautiful and profound, singular and universal. The art just is, for its own sake. The artist may have had more complex reasons for creating it, but the art itself can be appreciated simply because it is beautiful. It may not call out the same response in every viewer. Even if you do not like a particular paining or statue, everyone can acknowledge the great ones because they evoke some kind of powerful emotional response, be it positive or negative. This connection to the viewer, and the viewer's subsequent reaction and communication with other viewers is really what art is all about.
In summary, art must be appreciated as it is, just so. Added layers of information can provide deeper appreciation, but only if they add meaning and power to the experience instead of obfuscating the intuitive emotional reaction that arises naturally upon viewing a masterpiece.
Walk in Beauty ~ Lisa
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