Why?

I'm trying to write little bit of a phenomenology of everyday life for practice. Here's a phenomenology of the question, "why?" .... Because, why not? (I couldn't resist) No idea if this makes sense, but it's my first attempt! 

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We might ask ourselves what the most important question is, but doesn't even this asking require a preceding question? The "What" here must necessarily come after a conception of "Why?" When asking What one is inquiring about the nature of something. It's a simple inspection of properties which presuppose some short of shared understanding of that which is the focus of our attention. That which is the subject of my asking immediately becomes an object of inspection. Scientists are very good at answering questions of "What?" Epistemologists are skilled at answering "How?", but one should consult a metaphysician for an attempt at "Why?". An answer might not be available because unlike determining the properties of something in order to determine why something is, we might not have a shared conception of it. In fact its conception is that which is most elusive, prompting an originary examination. "What" is not the only question we can ask although it would sometimes seem that it is such given the way we tend to speak. All we must do is start with experience and explain it without diminishing it. To ask what is to always already restrict an experience. The phenomena that are associated with asking the question "Why" relate to an overflowing of being. This excess is demonstrated in the imaginations ability to perceive that which is through a reference to that which isn't.  Curiosity finds it force in going beyond what is. This is why "Why" finds it relevance in metaphysics as it is that which is beyond the physical. 

Winter is Coming

When I first moved to Chicago my old boss, a proud midwesterner, would reassure me that winter was the time when we all slowed down. My mind would drift to images of cocoa, days at work that were spent in cozy sweaters watching snow fall outside, and intimate conversations by fireplaces. These things are tenable, but but most of the winter consisted in taking frantic pictures of EVERY TIME it snowed, trying not slip on ice, and wondering why the heck did I move away from my home which was 80 degrees in January?

This winter is supposed to be worse. I don't know if I'm mentally prepared for it. Like a trauma victim I get flashbacks to when it was painful to be outside or what it felt like to take off a bajillion layers every time you went inside. I'm just whining. I'm not a midwester yet, prairie folks don't whine. I need to compose a Lutheran sensibility about that matter and buck up! After all, didn't I spend every winter of my childhood "snow hunting" only to come up empty handed each time? No need to hunt anymore. There's stilly something romantic in waking up and looking out your window and saying "first snow of the season". Of course followed by running throughout the house like a mad woman waking everyone up by screaming"SNOW, THERE'S SNOW!!!!"

Check back in with me in a month. Winter is coming. Prepare. I was born in the long summer. 

Politics as Usual

In thinking about the state of the world and the global poverty crisis I think one can quickly arrive at the conclusion that we are doing something wrong. We are the privileged in the world who have obtained such privilege through hundreds of years of oppression, colonialism, and a general lack of concern for the rights of others. Thomas Pogge has something to say about this, so does Peter Singer. Both believe that the "developed" nations are responsible for the massive scale of global poverty, Pogge approaches the issue from a more palatable standpoint of positive rights while Singer (in true fashion) argues that we possess a positive duty to the poor. 

Before continuing I'd like to throw out some facts. More people die from conditions relating to poverty than have ever died from any genocide combined. To eradicate poverty would be cheaper than to engage in a war for change. And as Pogge says, to this regard our institutions are engaged in the biggest cover up of all history. Certainly if we can argue for intervention in the Holocaust we can also argue that we must do something to prevent all of these unnecessary poverty related deaths, right?

I think so, but we can still ask ourselves whether this a reasonable comparison to make given that the extremity of the Nazi case? Is it the same thing to directly infringe on the human rights of an other in a face to face situation than it is to perform the same act, but from an anonymous distance? I believe that there are a couple of methods of approaching this question that will provide insight as to how there is ultimately little difference between these two cases where guilt is concerned. In either case we must recognize that others have the positive right to life, for instance, which we have violated either whether it be indirect or direct.

Firstly, by taking a utilitarian approach one can see that the plight affecting the world's poor is just as bad or perhaps if not worse according to the strict utilitarian, than the atrocities committed by the Nazi's. World poverty produces substantially more harm than fascists ever did and it is less costly to eradicate than fascism is because it does not require military engagement, for instance. If it is our goal to maximize good or pleasure and decrease suffering then we have ethically failed. The utilitarian approach however possesses limitations that do not seem to appeal on a moralistic level in the sense that we might not want to limit our responsibility to just the “worse off” atrocities; rather, we can aim to maintain the basic rights of subsistence for everyone.

A thought experiment comes to mind: If one were driving along the highway in a brand new Mercedes, but was shocked to see a bloody and almost dead victim of a tragic accident on the side of the road, one would almost always stop pick up the passenger and drive them to the hospital even it meant ruining the interior of the car. It is hard to conceive of a person who would say “Sorry, but the repairing this leather would just be far too costly” and drive away letting the poor individual bleed to death. Yet we are constantly exposed to stories, images, and appeals to help from those in need. If one is starving to death in far away country or even in your own country for that matter, wouldn't it be just as wrong to ignore the cry for help from a dying individual just because of a financial burden? Should proximity to an individual limit our rights to them? A possible response that could be made is that this argument relies too heavily on a notion of “positive duties”, yet perhaps if we alter the scenario to include that it was you who accidentally hit the individual by the road we can see where Pogge's distress lies.

It is not just that we are actively choosing to ignore the call of others in distress, but that they are in distress because of our actions. This is a good point for critique; yet, there are many convincing counter arguments, which demonstrate that we all possess blame where world poverty is concerned (without going into those here and now). I believe that to say that we as individuals don't have say over our institutions is to some degree express a real concern for the state of affairs. Still, if enough people are willing to admit that we have no control then surely we must also desire control? And if control cannot be given under such a corrupt system then we are responsible to change it.

The danger resides in a resignation. One might resign themselves to the notion that they cannot help to alleviate global poverty, that they cannot change their corrupt institutions which ensures global poverty's continuation, or even that they are not able to stop the genocide of a group of people as undertaken by a fascist regime. In any of these cases it is a resignation of one's agency to corrupt institutions that allows for death of others to continue. I think that we always have to believe that we can change things for the better, no matter how disenfranchised we may be in reality. If one has the slightest opportunity to voice what is wrong with the world then we must take it and if one does not have a voice we must act so that they can be assured one.

The argument that many individuals in wealthy nations for instance, are too victims of corrupt institutions, is not lost on me. In this respect we are in the same boat as the Germans; however there is a key difference here. Unlike the German's world poverty is primarily caused by immoral institutions that are built upon a histories worth of corruption. This system is highly more complex than what occurred under the Nazi regime although its affect is similar. Because the guilt here lies primarily with institutions it is not that we should all be punished for actively and intentionally harming millions of people, but rather that we need to be woken up from our apathetic slumber and realize the realities of the institutions that we support via our very benefiting from them.

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I also just had to share this video although I believe it is more closely related to Singer's argument in favor of positive duties. Essentially Singer says that if we gave up on the most minimal of luxuries and instead donated that money we could eradicate world poverty quickly and efficiently  Here is Louis CK talking about just that!

Revisiting Desire in a Metaphysical Context

Some more thoughts on this subject just because I think it's interesting!

In the way that metaphysics appears as the study of being we can examine that which gives being meaning and possibly call it desire or eros. To talk about that which isn't is simply to talk about a separate but particular reality of influence. I do not have access to eros since that which I most desire is always already out of my reach, in this way we can see an alternative version of metaphysics presented: metaphysics is that which does not claim mastery over reality, but seeks to engage with the reality of experience. It appears that philosophy is transcendent in this way and has something to say not about infinity itself, but our relationship to it via desire. This picture of metaphysics is presented as an alternative to the one painted by what seems to historically be the philosophical approach, at least taken by modern philosophers who sought mastery of the world through the lone self as the “master thinker”. Instead here we are confronted with a self that is lacking and in this lack desperately reaches out towards the infinite in an already failed attempt.

This relates to my initial feelings of solitude as associated with this concept of desire. The notion that that which does not exist could force me into self awareness via an encounter with infinity is quite alarming. Furthermore the idea that we are reaching out towards others who will always be out of my reach in an attempt to answer their call in our own wounded and failed fashion is solitude at its best. There is something poetic in this notion I think, that despite the insurmaountability of it all we are required to keep responding; yet, I wonder if others also see this relationship between philosophy and desire in such a fashion.

What are your thoughts?!

Is desire a condemnation or a blessing? What is the meaning of our efforts? I would be interested in an existential perspective on this question as well. 

A Wandering Mind

Sometimes my mind wanders in class. Totally normal. This is what happens:

I'm also practicing my cursive. Coming along-ish?!

Reflections on Desire

[Read the following question in the Carrie from Sex and the City journalism format please...]

In these postmodern times we can find a new richness in meaning to the old tradition of desire?

Okay, so this sort of question is really Carrie Bradshaw's style; however, if prompted I would answer that we feel the pain of want more often and more fiercely today. Whether this does or should permeate and even drive philosophical inquiry is maybe another matter to take up. Desire's particularly interesting character lies in that it is a longing for what is not; the notion that human beings can be so compelled by what isn't is rather extraordinary. My initial reaction however is one of sadness because to know that human existence is driven out of absence comes with a profound feeling of solitude. I find the discussion of the Cartesian ideal about philosophical autonomy relevant here. I don't prescribe to a particular standpoint with regards to an autonomous philosophy; however, it does seem to me that it is possible that philosophy is a way of reaching out towards others from a place of solitude. Perhaps the original lack that we feel is an absence of others and then maybe of an Other, who help to alleviate feelings of solitude by supplanting them feelings of purpose or direction. One of the best ways to ensure a long lasting connection and guard from feelings of absence is to ensure it in the preservation of ideas, the philosopher’s fecundity.

Philosophy is Eros because it is the search for that which will never be realized. Human existence is Eros by nature because we are driven towards that which we will and never could see completed. I believe that there is sadness in this notion and beauty as well. That is, if all that we have created for ourselves has been out of a feeling of lack that can never quite be satisfied. If the absence that we desire is characteristic of the Good and if it's beauty that we are disposed to crave, this picture for me becomes more palatable. In relationship to the idea of solitude, it seems that being able to commune with the Good, this ultimate Other, would be the most satisfactory completion of our desire because it is the lack of the Other's presence that we feel so deeply. It appears that we are searching for a perfection that couldn't possibly be found in the realm of existence, yet it is precisely because we feel its absence so strongly that we know of its possibility.

I am reminded of the Kabbalist origin story told by Isaac Luria. The story goes that in the beginning everything was God and it was perfect; however, if God takes up all the space in the universe, there is no room to create within this God's infinitude. The first act of creation is then an act of retraction. In this negative God space, God places the vessels that contain the elements of creation and into the vessels God puts the divine light. Yet, these vessels cannot contain the divine the light and so the vessels shatter. What is then left are sparks of the divine which are contained within everything. According to this story any act of creation first requires a contraction or absence, yet what motivates this creation is an inspiration via “light”.

Perhaps it is relevant that since I am not a religious person my first intuition upon dealing with God language is to attempt to secularize it. I don't necessarily think that this is a bad thing because we often employ difficult words such as God, when we have representations of beauty all around us, though I do think that there is inspiration in our desiring what is un-worldly beautiful. I believe that we're pre-disposed towards what is Beautiful or Good, and that it is able to provide us with a sense of meaning that draws us out from feelings of solitude is wonderful. That we are constantly desiring what is impossibly Good in that it is unobtainable, is even more wonderfully human.

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This entry is adapted from a response paper I wrote for grad school. Oh yeah, I'm in grad school now for philosophy... anyways, I thought it might work for this blog as well! 

Judaism and the Environment

The following is the text of a presentation I gave for my work, it's more "personal" in nature than I prefer to post on here. But it's time for a new post, so I thought I would recycle it.

Lately I've been thinking about the tensions between religions and the environment though, so I'll do a little article providing a counter argument to what I've presented here.  Debating with yourself is fun right?!

Environmental justice, a concept dear to many of my contemporaries, is for me also greatly intertwined with my Jewish background.

Judaism is a culture and tradition that I was born into, but a faith that I didn’t truly ascribe to until relatively recently. In Florida I grew up with a bit of ambiguity surrounding what it meant to be Jewish. My mom, a Lutheran from Illinois, converted to Judaism when she met my dad who had a typical “Mizrahi” or Middle Eastern Jewish experience growing up in Iran. Both are agnostics who attend a reform congregation and decided to send my sister and me to an orthodox day school for six years. Confusing is one way to frame this sort of upbringing, but I think it was the ever present political and at times religious dinner discussions that probably were my formative influences in how I approached faith. 

I believe that environmental justice is a form of social justice - not only because human beings are inevitably intertwined with the fate of the Earth, but also because we have a responsibility towards that which is other and furthermore greater than ourselves. I think that the Earth certainly commands such respect. The Hebrew word for land is “adamah” from the root “adam,” which means man. In the creation story God creates humankind from the Earth; a particularly astute observation by our ancient ancestors, but it’s a teaching that we’ve departed from in the modern age as we’ve become, well, increasingly less and less human. These days it seems that we rarely feel the “adamah” the land within our being “adam” or human.

Judaism is a religion that is tied to the land; from its explication of our very being, down to the myriad of laws that are supposed to govern our interactions with the land. Last year I worked at the Urban Adamah Program in Berkley, which is a Jewish organization that is attempting to create a farm that observes Jewish agricultural and moral laws. I had an opportunity to explore contemporary applications of Jewish traditions on the food justice movement, which involved everything from practicing “Pe’ah”, which literally translates to corner – a practice where you leave a portion of your harvest for those in need of food. Or even the simple act of saying a bracha a line of prayer before eating and creating the intentionality around the piece of food that I was about to consume, was portrayed with new understanding perhaps because for the first time I was growing a large portion of the food that I was eating.

The symbiosis between these two values: Judaism and environmentalism to me is evident. Yes I would probably still be interested in environmental work if I wasn’t Jewish, but I’m not sure that Judaism could exist without it’s connection to the environment.  My own relationship to environmental justice has been nurtured through Judaism and provides deeper meaning and motivation for me as go on to exist with the aim of positive impact in this world. I believe that environmental justice is a form of social justice - not only because human beings are inevitably intertwined with the fate of the Earth, but also because we have a responsibility towards that which is other and furthermore greater than ourselves. I think that the Earth certainly commands such respect. The Hebrew word for land is “adamah” from the root “adam,” which means man. In the creation story God creates humankind from the Earth; a particularly astute observation by our ancient ancestors, but it’s a teaching that we’ve departed from in the modern age as we’ve become, well, increasingly less and less human. These days it seems that we rarely feel the “adamah” the land within our being “adam” or human.

Judaism is a religion that is tied to the land; from its explication of our very being, down to the myriad of laws that are supposed to govern our interactions with the land. Last year I worked at the Urban Adamah Program in Berkley, which is a Jewish organization that is attempting to create a farm that observes Jewish agricultural and moral laws. I had an opportunity to explore contemporary applications of Jewish traditions on the food justice movement, which involved everything from practicing “Pe’ah”, which literally translates to corner – a practice where you leave a portion of your harvest for those in need of food. Or even the simple act of saying a bracha a line of prayer before eating and creating the intentionality around the piece of food that I was about to consume, was portrayed with new understanding perhaps because for the first time I was growing a large portion of the food that I was eating.

The symbiosis between these two values: Judaism and environmentalism to me is evident. Yes I would probably still be interested in environmental work if I wasn’t Jewish, but I’m not sure that Judaism could exist without it’s connection to the environment.  My own relationship to environmental justice has been nurtured through Judaism and provides deeper meaning and motivation for me as go on to exist with the aim of positive impact in this world. Judaism is a religion that is tied to the land; from its explication of our very being, down to the myriad of laws that are supposed to govern our interactions with the land. Last year I worked at the Urban Adamah Program in Berkley, which is a Jewish organization that is attempting to create a farm that observes Jewish agricultural and moral laws. I had an opportunity to explore contemporary applications of Jewish traditions on the food justice movement, which involved everything from practicing “Pe’ah”, which literally translates to corner – a practice where you leave a portion of your harvest for those in need of food. Or even the simple act of saying a bracha a line of prayer before eating and creating the intentionality around the piece of food that I was about to consume, was portrayed with new understanding perhaps because for the first time I was growing a large portion of the food that I was eating.

The symbiosis between these two values: Judaism and environmentalism to me is evident. Yes I would probably still be interested in environmental work if I wasn’t Jewish, but I’m not sure that Judaism could exist without it’s connection to the environment.  My own relationship to environmental justice has been nurtured through Judaism and provides deeper meaning and motivation for me as go on to exist with the aim of positive impact in this world.