Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays

have lighted fools The way to dusty death.

Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow,

a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more:

it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing


Thursday

Freedom is Slavery


One of the principal goals of modern society has been the expansion of freedom. The underlying issue has been a fundamental disagreement over freedom's true meaning. In response, Western society has largely adopted two basic stances. The first was championed by John Stuart Mill in his discourse on liberty. In this view, freedom exists in the absence of coercion. He famously argued that the rights of the individual extend only to the point where they infringe upon the rights of another. The second was that of Jean-Jacques Rousseau in his Social Contract. He held that freedom was the right of self-determination. While these ideas may seem mutually compatible, in practice they are often antithetical views, where the opposing concept is perceived as tyranny.

Mill was an advocate of British empiricism and free trade. He believed, as did Adam Smith, that the greatest freedom would be found in spontaneous order. He argued that, guided by the invisible hand of market forces, prices would be regulated by the random interaction of self-interest. It was an economy that, in this view, valued production through what might be considered vice. In this new world, there was no need for tradition, or nobility, or even God to guide human affairs. The merchant would rise, as a new middle class, that would guide humanity into the future. And this was the ideal of the modern man.

Rousseau would have none of it. He was of the firm opinion that when humans left the trees, that was generally a bad idea. He asserted that nothing mankind had accomplished with its science and technology was of any value whatsoever. Primitive life, he believed, was superior to modern man in every aspect.

In response, Voltaire famously retorted:

"I have received your new book against the human race and thank you for it. Never was such a cleverness used in the design of making us all stupid. One longs, in reading your book, to walk on all fours. But as I have lost that habit for more than sixty years, I feel unhappily the impossibility of resuming it. Nor can I embark in search of the savages of Canada, because the maladies to which I am condemned render a European surgeon necessary to me; because war is going on in those regions; and because the example of our actions has made the savages nearly as bad as ourselves."

To Rousseau, the first evil was ownership. That possession had led to humanity's loss of innocence. In a natural state, equality was the proper condition of society. With ownership came a sense of dependency between the master and the servant. This led to a growing alienation, because the love of self was replaced with the concept of social status. This led to our sense of consumerism, and the need to maintain our image within society. To this he famously said:

"Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains."

The solution he devised was the social contract. He argued that humanity must enter into a self-ruling community based on equality, where we would work together to serve the collective, and not merely individual interest. This leads us to an underlying question of freedom.

Can a wealthy drug addict be free?

J.S. Mill would answer yes. They can afford the habit. They only hurt themselves. They are not being coerced into bondage; they have chosen this lifestyle of their own accord.

Rousseau would answer no. The true self, for him, is identified by what is best for the community. By taking drugs, they are diminishing their role in society, surrendering their freedom to self-interest and vice. So, by taking corrective action, we are setting them free.

Thus, we have our contradiction: a freedom of individual action versus the freedom of society as a whole. This has led to all sorts of problems within our popular political debate.

Monday

The Great Learning


      What the great learning teaches, is to illustrate illustrious virtue; to renovate the people; and to rest in the highest excellence.


      The point where to rest being known, the object of pursuit is then determined; and, that being determined, a calm unperturbedness may be attained to. To that calmness there will succeed a tranquil repose. In that repose there may be careful deliberation, and that deliberation will be followed by the attainment of the desired end.


      Things have their root and their branches. Affairs have their end and their beginning. To know what is first and what is last will lead near to what is taught in the Great Learning.


      The ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons. Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowledge. Such extension of knowledge lay in the investigation of things.


      Things being investigated, knowledge became complete. Their knowledge being complete, their thoughts were sincere. Their thoughts being sincere, their hearts were then rectified. Their hearts being rectified, their persons were cultivated. Their persons being cultivated, their families were regulated. Their families being regulated, their states were rightly governed. Their states being rightly governed, the whole kingdom was made tranquil and happy.


      From the Son of Heaven down to the mass of the people, all must consider the cultivation of the person the root of everything besides.
      It cannot be, when the root is neglected, that what should spring from it will be well ordered. It never has been the case that what was of great importance has been slightly cared for, and, at the same time, that what was of slight importance has been greatly cared for.
      Confucius Written ca. 500 B.C.E


While never achieving great worldly success in his lifetime, Confucius is remembered as one of humanity's most profound teachers.

In his teachings, primarily recorded and elaborated upon by his disciples in texts such as The Great Learning, he points to the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. A truly good ruler, for instance, requires an ordered state, which in turn depends on a well-regulated family, then on an ordered self, a rectified heart, sincerity of thought, and the extension of knowledge derived from the investigation of things. One element seamlessly leads to another. When all these layers are in harmony, the entire kingdom flourishes and is successful.

When asked to explain in a single word how one should live, Confucius answered: "Reciprocity." This basic principle of Confucian ethics, often summarized as the Golden Rule, states: "Do not do to others what you would not want them to do to you."

The core teachings of Confucius, as further developed and interpreted by later influential thinkers like Mencius and Xunzi, can also be generally summarized through these five essential virtues:

  • Ren: Benevolence, encompassing charity and humanity.

  • Yi: Honesty and uprightness.

  • Zhi: Knowledge and wisdom.

  • Xin: Faithfulness and integrity.

  • Li: Correct behavior, propriety, good manners, politeness, ceremony, and worship.

Sunday

The Search for Truth

Humanity's enduring quest for truth has shaped philosophical inquiry across civilizations, revealing both profound insights and persistent paradoxes. This analysis will trace the intellectual journey through diverse perspectives – from ancient wisdom to modern critical thought – to illuminate how philosophers have grappled with defining, attaining, and understanding the nature of truth.

Both Socrates and Confucius, despite their distinct cultural contexts, converged on a foundational principle: that the sincere pursuit of truth must begin with an acknowledgment of one's own ignorance. For Socrates, this 'intellectual humility' was the cornerstone of the Socratic method, challenging unexamined beliefs and leading to a deeper, albeit often aporetic, understanding. Confucius, in The Great Learning, similarly stressed the "investigation of things" as the initial step in personal cultivation, believing that true wisdom—derived from confronting what one does not yet know—was essential for rectified thoughts, a sincere heart, and ultimately, a well-ordered society.

It was David Hume who would ultimately articulate a profound paradox concerning our empirical knowledge. While we derive our understanding of the world through experience and employ inductive reasoning (inferring general rules from specific observations), Hume argued there is no rational, non-circular justification for assuming that past uniformities will persist into the future. Our belief in cause and effect, for instance, is based on habit, not logical necessity, thus undermining the possibility of absolute certainty in any knowledge derived solely from experience.

Faced with Hume's radical skepticism, the question arose: can any foundation for knowledge survive? To deny the very existence of truth would render all inquiry meaningless. Therefore, to proceed with any coherent understanding, one might, by necessity, posit that truth must exist. This imperative echoed the foundational quest of RenĂ© Descartes, who, through his method of systematic doubt, sought an indubitable truth. He famously arrived at "Cogito, ergo sum" ("I think, therefore I am") – a self-evident truth that became the secure bedrock for reconstructing knowledge, immune to the skepticism that challenged empirical claims.

Immanuel Kant, in his Critique of Pure Reason, offered a profound reconciliation between rationalism and empiricism, and a direct response to Hume. He argued that while experience provides the content of knowledge, the mind possesses innate structures, or "categories of understanding," that shape our experience. Thus, we possess "synthetic a priori" knowledge – truths that are both informative and known independently of experience, such as the impossibility of infinitely extended parallel lines ever meeting. This provided the necessary certainty that Hume's empiricism lacked, securing the foundations of science and mathematics. However, this triumph came at a significant cost, earning Kant the moniker "the great destroyer." He asserted that we can never know "things-in-themselves" (the "noumena") directly, but only their appearances as structured by our minds (the "phenomena"). While we can affirm the existence of an external reality and its adherence to natural laws, our knowledge is ultimately limited to our perception of this reality, not its ultimate, unconditioned truth. This confined human reason to the realm of experience, effectively "destroying" the possibility of traditional metaphysics.

In essence, the philosophical journey from ancient self-awareness to Kantian critical philosophy reveals a persistent human yearning for truth, yet it also highlights the profound and perhaps inherent limitations of human knowledge. While Socrates and Confucius initiated the quest by recognizing ignorance, Hume exposed the fragility of empirical certainty. Descartes sought an undeniable foundation, but it was Kant who offered a sophisticated, albeit bittersweet, resolution: securing knowledge of the world as it appears to us, but forever sealing off direct access to ultimate reality. This enduring tension—between the undeniable impulse to understand and the philosophical boundaries of that understanding—continues to define the human condition's relationship with truth.

Saturday

Flotsam And Jetsam

It's been a long time since I wrote for my blog. This past year, of course, has been a busy one. I embarked last year on a new adventure, a new profession, and it has treated me well. For the first time in my working life, I have financial security, and despite the hours, I genuinely enjoy driving. I see much of the country, and it gets a little smaller every day. I imagine in 20 years, it will be like the back of my hand.

 One of the benefits of driving, naturally, is that I spend a lot of time studying. I listen to audiobooks en route, and I spend my days with the greatest minds of all time. This immersion has given me a fresh perspective on how to approach my intellectual journey.

Meanwhile, I've continued to write, pen and paper filling my quiet moments. I've never been adept at editing, preferring a free flow of thought. In this regard, the blog has always worked well. Perhaps, one day, I will publish; for now, this serves as a daily exercise. My new plan, at least, is to write a little every day. I have a new computer and Microsoft Word, and that's where I'll start.

I don't know if anyone will ever read my blog. I've never been good at social networking. I don't care to advertise, and I don't really need to. I'm not doing this for a living. I write to focus my thoughts, to know what I believe, what I actually stand for.

This is a quality so often lost in popular society. We float around in the flotsam of daily headlines, and we never truly know ourselves. That self-knowledge is just a whisper in the darkness, always present, yet somehow lost in the shuffle.

So with this in mind, I have returned to my blog, in the hope that, perhaps, I might find myself. And maybe in the course of my journey, others will join me, and take comfort that there is another, out there, wandering, too, for the smallest glimpse of truth.