I traveled to Taiwan last week to present a paper at a conference. It was my first time to Asia and I really enjoyed it! It's fun for me to see different cultures, hear different languages, try different food ... and at the same time, to see how similar we all are regardless of culture, race, etc. I also got to catch up with one of my favorite professors from undergrad days years ago and that was really fun. He's a great guy and it was refreshing to talk to someone so intelligent that shares a lot of the same values and ideas that I have. I think he's one of the most intelligent people I've ever known and I was happy that he thinks well enough of me to want to spend time talking with me.
I was gone for a week, but being so far away from family made the time seem a lot longer than that. I had a bit of a rough time adjusting to the new time zone, but it wasn't as bad as adjusting to Europe. I didn't sleep very well while I was there and only had about 2-3 hours' sleep on the 17 hour flight home. When I finally did crash last night, I slept so hard! I ended up sleeping for 15 hours and missed the whole day of work today. Waking up at noon kind of messed up my plans, but that's ok.
My wife let me borrow her camera, so I took a ton of pictures. Here are just a few.
A statue of a dragon in the hotel where I was staying. This dragon has some spiritual significance, though I won't do their religion the dishonor of attempting to explain it.
The LDS temple in Taiwan - I presume the lettering on the steeple says something like "Holiness to the Lord", but those letters mean nothing to me. I met some LDS missionaries there and I told them how amazing I thought they were for learning Mandarin. I have learned German and some Spanish, but I didn't have to learn a new alphabet. All of my languages are part of the same family, so they all have a lot of words that are similar. Asian languages are TOTALLY different. I did learn to say "Hello, how are you?", "Good morning", "Thank you", "butterfly", and a taxi driver even taught me to say "Hello, beautiful", but there are NO similarities to the Latin-influenced languages.
The entrance to the hotel where I stayed. Through the arch, you can see the tallest building in Taipei.
Taipei skyline including the tallest building in Taipei and what used to be the tallest in the world.
More of Taipei's skyline.
I loved seeing the Chinese lettering everywhere.
My hotel from a distance.
An intersection in Taipei. I saw a LOT of mopeds as I walked around.
I found a McDonald's and Subway. Once again, I love the lettering.
I found a park and snapped the two pictures above.
A closeup of part of the architecture of the National Museum. I walked to the museum and underestimated the heat and humidity. I was out for a couple hours and arrived soaked in sweat and pretty tired. I sat down for a few minutes in the air conditioned lobby to relax before going inside. As I got up to go in, the man next to me jumped up and followed me. In my exhaustion, I had left my wife's zoom lens on the bench. He jumped up to return it to me. By the way the man was dressed, I believe he was a Buddhist monk. Thank God for good people of all religions. He gave me a huge smile and I gave him one back. We bumped into each other a few times in the museum and exchanged smiles since we couldn't exchange much in words. I felt a connection to this strange, kind man and a warm feeling inside each time I saw him. I know a little of Buddhism, but after this experience, I have a desire to learn more. I read Siddhartha in High School, but that's about it. I've learned a fair amount about Hinduism and have a lot of respect for that religion, but I know much less about Buddhism. Any suggestions on where to start?
A piece of crystal in a store. I wasn't allowed to take pictures in the museum, but there were some amazing Jade sculptures there. This was the best I could do outside the museum.
I was a little surprised to find a Bible in my room. It was neat to see English with the Mandarin next to it.
Walkenhorst Family
Friday, May 21, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
The Death of Why
I started reading a book called "The Death of Why" on the recommendation of a friend. The book laments the lack of questioning in our society and particularly in our schools. The author thinks that we're in such a frenzy to get information and quick answers to questions that we don't pause to ask and ponder the really difficult questions, the ones that expand our minds, teach us to reason logically, and cause us to question our assumptions and worldview.
I agree with the author's basic premise. I think our school system can't adequately prepare our students to engage in the world by teaching to standardized tests. We teach rote memorization instead of creative inquiry. No Child Left Behind may have sounded like a good idea, but it further entrenched this mentality and tied Federal money to success in standardized tests. It may seem ironic that the more money Congress and our states pour into the educational system, the worse our results seem to get. I think it makes perfect sense, actually. Those dollars come with strings attached and creativity can't flourish in an overly regimented system. It requires freedom. Freedom won't guarantee successful results either, but I think it's much more likely to create the right kind of environment where success can be achieved.
The author also discusses the Internet and the effect that the availability of such massive amounts of information can have. Not knowing what to make of all the information can be overwhelming and may cause us to seek help in processing it by listening to talking heads or reading opinions pieces that interpret the world for us. Rather than making up our own minds, we rely on "experts" to do our thinking for us. We may decide not to bother even attempting to process all that information. One example the author laments when students fall into that trap is, rather than thoughtfully researching a topic, students print off the first few search results that pop up on a certain topic to hand in for a not-so-well-thought-out research paper, allowing Google's business-driven algorithms to do their thinking for them. Advertising wins once again. Being overwhelmed with busywork at school may also be contributing to that seek-the-quick-answer mentality.
All of this reminded me of a scripture in 2 Timothy 3:7: "Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." Paul claimed this state would exist among men in what he called "the last days" (2 Timothy 3:1). Hmm ... did Paul forsee the Internet?
I work in the wireless communication industry, but here's a glance at some of the potential negative effects of information overload that wireless can help create: http://spectrum.ieee.org/computing/it/how-to-beat-information-overload. That article comes from a professional journal in my field. It was refreshing to read that kind of perspective from a peer.
I recently gave up on the book "The Death of Why". I agree with her overall premise, but the book is so full of ideas and philosophies that are so incongruous with my own that I found it too annoying to finish. I try to give every book a chance by reading at least half of it. If, at that point, I just don't find any pleasure in it, I usually give up. I agree with another statement in the book that we should read and expose ourselves to things we don't agree with. But after being exposed to it enough, I reserve the right to save myself a few hours and do something I enjoy. I almost always finish books that I start, but I've quit on a few of them - one of them was from one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. I couldn't get through his book "Miracles". He started with some premises I just couldn't agree with and I found myself fighting his arguments the whole way through because they were based on ideas I couldn't accept. Oh well. I've never read a book I completely agree with and sometimes I don't agree with myself from one day to another, but I've learned that life is too short to spend too much of my time doing things I don't enjoy. Life is meant to be happy. And happiness, for me, requires, among other things, that I limit the amount of information that gets thrown at me. Consequently, I try to make sure that such information is uplifting, encouraging, interesting, ... and fun.
I agree with the author's basic premise. I think our school system can't adequately prepare our students to engage in the world by teaching to standardized tests. We teach rote memorization instead of creative inquiry. No Child Left Behind may have sounded like a good idea, but it further entrenched this mentality and tied Federal money to success in standardized tests. It may seem ironic that the more money Congress and our states pour into the educational system, the worse our results seem to get. I think it makes perfect sense, actually. Those dollars come with strings attached and creativity can't flourish in an overly regimented system. It requires freedom. Freedom won't guarantee successful results either, but I think it's much more likely to create the right kind of environment where success can be achieved.
The author also discusses the Internet and the effect that the availability of such massive amounts of information can have. Not knowing what to make of all the information can be overwhelming and may cause us to seek help in processing it by listening to talking heads or reading opinions pieces that interpret the world for us. Rather than making up our own minds, we rely on "experts" to do our thinking for us. We may decide not to bother even attempting to process all that information. One example the author laments when students fall into that trap is, rather than thoughtfully researching a topic, students print off the first few search results that pop up on a certain topic to hand in for a not-so-well-thought-out research paper, allowing Google's business-driven algorithms to do their thinking for them. Advertising wins once again. Being overwhelmed with busywork at school may also be contributing to that seek-the-quick-answer mentality.
All of this reminded me of a scripture in 2 Timothy 3:7: "Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." Paul claimed this state would exist among men in what he called "the last days" (2 Timothy 3:1). Hmm ... did Paul forsee the Internet?
I work in the wireless communication industry, but here's a glance at some of the potential negative effects of information overload that wireless can help create: http://spectrum.ieee.org/computing/it/how-to-beat-information-overload. That article comes from a professional journal in my field. It was refreshing to read that kind of perspective from a peer.
I recently gave up on the book "The Death of Why". I agree with her overall premise, but the book is so full of ideas and philosophies that are so incongruous with my own that I found it too annoying to finish. I try to give every book a chance by reading at least half of it. If, at that point, I just don't find any pleasure in it, I usually give up. I agree with another statement in the book that we should read and expose ourselves to things we don't agree with. But after being exposed to it enough, I reserve the right to save myself a few hours and do something I enjoy. I almost always finish books that I start, but I've quit on a few of them - one of them was from one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. I couldn't get through his book "Miracles". He started with some premises I just couldn't agree with and I found myself fighting his arguments the whole way through because they were based on ideas I couldn't accept. Oh well. I've never read a book I completely agree with and sometimes I don't agree with myself from one day to another, but I've learned that life is too short to spend too much of my time doing things I don't enjoy. Life is meant to be happy. And happiness, for me, requires, among other things, that I limit the amount of information that gets thrown at me. Consequently, I try to make sure that such information is uplifting, encouraging, interesting, ... and fun.
Playing Soccer
Last week, at my oldest son's last soccer practice of the season, the coaches of two of the teams invited the parents to play against the boys' teams combined. We were hopelessly outnumbered, but big enough, and some of us good enough, to score several goals without letting the poor boys score one. They did a great job, but they couldn't compete with us. Not fair. Sometime after half-time, a couple of us switched sides, but it still wasn't enough to turn the tide.
I was really proud of my son. He played his heart out just like he always does. It was fun to play against him and then to play with him. His team does a great job and they had a couple of GREAT coaches. Those two men were always positive, supportive, and encouraging. The assistant coach knew the sport really well and did a great job teaching the boys some strategy and they both really helped the boys work together and become better soccer players. Their team was called "The Heat" and the coaches were always telling them to "bring on the Heat".
I'm so glad my boys love soccer. I don't know why I like it so much. I'm not that good at it, but I love to play. And it was SO much fun to play with my son. Hopefully we can do stuff like that more often.
I was really proud of my son. He played his heart out just like he always does. It was fun to play against him and then to play with him. His team does a great job and they had a couple of GREAT coaches. Those two men were always positive, supportive, and encouraging. The assistant coach knew the sport really well and did a great job teaching the boys some strategy and they both really helped the boys work together and become better soccer players. Their team was called "The Heat" and the coaches were always telling them to "bring on the Heat".
I'm so glad my boys love soccer. I don't know why I like it so much. I'm not that good at it, but I love to play. And it was SO much fun to play with my son. Hopefully we can do stuff like that more often.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
The Abolition of Man
I finished reading The Abolition of Man last night and I wish I could convey the power of that third and last chapter of the book. I feel like I've been able to glimpse the power and beauty of what Lewis was trying to say, but I still don't have the vocabulary necessary to completely understand and internalize it. If you understand it, please explain it to me. I will make a lame attempt to explain part of it here.
Lewis claims that in seeking to tame nature or overcome her, we pay a great price for our advances. We chop her up into little pieces, analyze and understand each little piece, and reassemble a corpse. Our models of reality are crude approximations that yield great results in terms of power over nature, but all too often destroy the beauty of the whole. Our reductionist theories grant us control over our environment, but somehow in the process, we lose sight of the purpose behind our investigations. Ultimately he claims that these advances, once complete, will result, not in victory over nature, but enslavement to her. More on that in a minute.
Lewis claims that the end result of our conquest of nature must be the conquest of human nature. We, in our relativistic theorizing, will seek to eliminate all convention and tradition in order to be finally free to shape our environment and ourselves according to our pleasure. But without some absolute measure, some value by which to guide our decisions, what will our pleasure be? Surely not something "good" or "benevolent" because radical relativism can have no absolute conception of such values. Lewis tells us that our "pleasure" will be just that - whatever impulse or appetite dominates us in the moment. We, in seeking to conquer nature, in seeking to free ourselves from all constraints of history, of philosophy, of tradition, of absolute moral or ethical standards, have in the end become slaves of our own nature. Having cut out our own chests, we then deliver our souls to the demands of our bellies. We will be ruled by our physical desires and appetites. And while the ruling class may see fit to impose some sort of arbitrary system of values on the ruled for purposes of their own, they themselves can not be subject to any such thing because they have rejected all such authority. They will be ruled by their stomachs and thus will have lost their humanity. And nature, which we sought to subdue, will have become the master of us all.
Lewis suggests that the redemption from such a disastrous outcome may include a reformulation of scientific inquiry. Rather than seeking to slice reality into manageable bits in the form of modern scientific modeling and analysis, perhaps we can perform such analysis without killing the object itself. We can retain a worldview that recognizes the beauty of the whole and accepts an alternative model to the scientific one as being of equal or even greater value depending on the circumstance. For example, the answer to the question, "What is color?" may be answered by science through discussions of electromagnetic waves and propagation, wavelength, cones in the human eye, representations in the brain, etc. But after all that discussion, the weary student may wonder whether all of that actually answered the question. The question may be better answered by an experience of viewing colors, by a discussion of the aesthetics of color, or by some other method I don't know about. Discussing the pieces of the system in isolation with the aid of a mathematical structure may be useful in a lot of ways, but it's also sort of like answering the question "What is a tree?" by chopping up a tree into little bits, examining the pieces one by one, and saying "There; that is a tree." Something important and essential in the concept is missing.
I think the problem is more than just one of science. Science has become something of a religion to many people because of the "miracles" it has brought about ... and I don't wish to minimize the wonder of those miracles. I am a scientist myself and think there is great value in that field. But it shouldn't be held up as the supreme source of truth either. Still, the problem is broader than that. Lewis ends his book talking about science, but as he points out earlier, the denial of an essential, absolute truth inevitably leads us to the destruction of all objective value and morality. By accepting that stance, we're left in a boat at sea with no anchor. We have no ground to stand on. Logic can take us from point A to point B, but it can't create point A out of nothing. Reason must have a place to start. Something Thomas Reid called "First Principles". Something like Aristotle's "Final Cause". Some self-evident truth. These things are not deducible because they are the premise on which deductions are built. They cannot be judged by a subsequent principle because they are the creators and judges of such principles themselves. We can't even really argue about them properly because there is no basis on which to argue. We can try to argue, but ultimately it comes down to what you believe at your core.
Lewis doesn't claim to know what all these First Principles are - he actually avoids discussing what they are, but he claims that they exist. Our conception of them may change, but they themselves do not change. As we operate within that framework of First Principles, our understanding of them may improve and we may better pattern our life after the truth we discover. But our discovery did not create them. They exist independently. When we refuse to acknowledge the existence of such principles, we are left with nothing from which to begin to reason. To avoid the problems Lewis describes, we have to be willing to accept that something simply IS true. That truth exists in a state that is independent of us. Whether we perceive it correctly is a different question. That may seem like common sense, but it's amazing how the alternative can be taught in a way that seems so compelling.
Lewis claims that in seeking to tame nature or overcome her, we pay a great price for our advances. We chop her up into little pieces, analyze and understand each little piece, and reassemble a corpse. Our models of reality are crude approximations that yield great results in terms of power over nature, but all too often destroy the beauty of the whole. Our reductionist theories grant us control over our environment, but somehow in the process, we lose sight of the purpose behind our investigations. Ultimately he claims that these advances, once complete, will result, not in victory over nature, but enslavement to her. More on that in a minute.
Lewis claims that the end result of our conquest of nature must be the conquest of human nature. We, in our relativistic theorizing, will seek to eliminate all convention and tradition in order to be finally free to shape our environment and ourselves according to our pleasure. But without some absolute measure, some value by which to guide our decisions, what will our pleasure be? Surely not something "good" or "benevolent" because radical relativism can have no absolute conception of such values. Lewis tells us that our "pleasure" will be just that - whatever impulse or appetite dominates us in the moment. We, in seeking to conquer nature, in seeking to free ourselves from all constraints of history, of philosophy, of tradition, of absolute moral or ethical standards, have in the end become slaves of our own nature. Having cut out our own chests, we then deliver our souls to the demands of our bellies. We will be ruled by our physical desires and appetites. And while the ruling class may see fit to impose some sort of arbitrary system of values on the ruled for purposes of their own, they themselves can not be subject to any such thing because they have rejected all such authority. They will be ruled by their stomachs and thus will have lost their humanity. And nature, which we sought to subdue, will have become the master of us all.
Lewis suggests that the redemption from such a disastrous outcome may include a reformulation of scientific inquiry. Rather than seeking to slice reality into manageable bits in the form of modern scientific modeling and analysis, perhaps we can perform such analysis without killing the object itself. We can retain a worldview that recognizes the beauty of the whole and accepts an alternative model to the scientific one as being of equal or even greater value depending on the circumstance. For example, the answer to the question, "What is color?" may be answered by science through discussions of electromagnetic waves and propagation, wavelength, cones in the human eye, representations in the brain, etc. But after all that discussion, the weary student may wonder whether all of that actually answered the question. The question may be better answered by an experience of viewing colors, by a discussion of the aesthetics of color, or by some other method I don't know about. Discussing the pieces of the system in isolation with the aid of a mathematical structure may be useful in a lot of ways, but it's also sort of like answering the question "What is a tree?" by chopping up a tree into little bits, examining the pieces one by one, and saying "There; that is a tree." Something important and essential in the concept is missing.
I think the problem is more than just one of science. Science has become something of a religion to many people because of the "miracles" it has brought about ... and I don't wish to minimize the wonder of those miracles. I am a scientist myself and think there is great value in that field. But it shouldn't be held up as the supreme source of truth either. Still, the problem is broader than that. Lewis ends his book talking about science, but as he points out earlier, the denial of an essential, absolute truth inevitably leads us to the destruction of all objective value and morality. By accepting that stance, we're left in a boat at sea with no anchor. We have no ground to stand on. Logic can take us from point A to point B, but it can't create point A out of nothing. Reason must have a place to start. Something Thomas Reid called "First Principles". Something like Aristotle's "Final Cause". Some self-evident truth. These things are not deducible because they are the premise on which deductions are built. They cannot be judged by a subsequent principle because they are the creators and judges of such principles themselves. We can't even really argue about them properly because there is no basis on which to argue. We can try to argue, but ultimately it comes down to what you believe at your core.
Lewis doesn't claim to know what all these First Principles are - he actually avoids discussing what they are, but he claims that they exist. Our conception of them may change, but they themselves do not change. As we operate within that framework of First Principles, our understanding of them may improve and we may better pattern our life after the truth we discover. But our discovery did not create them. They exist independently. When we refuse to acknowledge the existence of such principles, we are left with nothing from which to begin to reason. To avoid the problems Lewis describes, we have to be willing to accept that something simply IS true. That truth exists in a state that is independent of us. Whether we perceive it correctly is a different question. That may seem like common sense, but it's amazing how the alternative can be taught in a way that seems so compelling.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Anatomy of a Murder
Emily and I watched an old movie last night called "Anatomy of a Murder". It's a courtroom film where Jimmy Stewart plays the defense attorney for a man accused of murder. I'm still having a hard time explaining exactly what I liked about the movie, but I REALLY liked it! It was a well-written story that made you think and it had great acting. The accused is a Lieutenant in the Army. He claims his wife was raped by another man and that he, after learning of the rape and seeing his wife's state, became temporarily insane and killed the man. This is a 1959 movie and the adult themes are handled very well. All of the characters are beautifully written and acted and the winning points scored by the defense near the end of the movie made me want to cheer. Some of those one-liners are still making me smile the day after.
I think Jimmy Stewart was an awesome actor. Another film of his that I really like is "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington". In that film, he plays a simple local guy who's appointed by the governor to a seat in the U.S. Senate because the political machine thinks it can walk all over him. He ends up discovering the corruption they thought he was too simple to see, battling it, and winning. I love the way the movie highlights the propaganda and deception employed by the corrupt political machine. It makes you think about the levels of depravity to which humanity can sink. It makes me think about selections from history ... various times and places. It makes me think about certain elements within our own political machine. Great movie. If you haven't seen it, check it out.
And check out "Anatomy of a Murder" too. Not as politically prescient as "Smith", but an interesting criminal law story. Thought provoking like "Twelve Angry Men", but more fun.
I think Jimmy Stewart was an awesome actor. Another film of his that I really like is "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington". In that film, he plays a simple local guy who's appointed by the governor to a seat in the U.S. Senate because the political machine thinks it can walk all over him. He ends up discovering the corruption they thought he was too simple to see, battling it, and winning. I love the way the movie highlights the propaganda and deception employed by the corrupt political machine. It makes you think about the levels of depravity to which humanity can sink. It makes me think about selections from history ... various times and places. It makes me think about certain elements within our own political machine. Great movie. If you haven't seen it, check it out.
And check out "Anatomy of a Murder" too. Not as politically prescient as "Smith", but an interesting criminal law story. Thought provoking like "Twelve Angry Men", but more fun.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Back to Full Time
I'm back to working full-time again starting in May. As I described earlier on this blog, I cut my work hours to 80% starting in February and I've really enjoyed it. Unfortunately, I was only able to keep up the mom and dad combined role for the first half of those three months. As that began to wear on me, I became more stressed out and we shifted a lot of Emily's responsibilities back onto her shoulders. I don't know how single parents do it. My hat's off to all of you out there. I got burned out pretty quickly.
Another stress related to that situation was that I knew I would eventually come back to full-time, so I felt the need to keep up with projects so that I could easily transition back in. The nature of the projects we've been working lately and various circumstances have kept me pretty busy, so I've basically had as much or more to do than normal, but only 32 hours a week to do it in. I've been feeling overwhelmed and have decided that the break was good for me and good for my family, but it's time to get back to the office and get more of my job done.
I'll miss spending so much time with you, Emily. I've enjoyed it. Thanks for helping me to make it fun.
Another stress related to that situation was that I knew I would eventually come back to full-time, so I felt the need to keep up with projects so that I could easily transition back in. The nature of the projects we've been working lately and various circumstances have kept me pretty busy, so I've basically had as much or more to do than normal, but only 32 hours a week to do it in. I've been feeling overwhelmed and have decided that the break was good for me and good for my family, but it's time to get back to the office and get more of my job done.
I'll miss spending so much time with you, Emily. I've enjoyed it. Thanks for helping me to make it fun.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A Tribute to My Wife
Around this time of year, my wife and I celebrate our Anniversary. It's hard to believe we're celebrating another year together! I hesitate to put too much personal information on this blog, which puts me in a bit of a bind. On the one hand, I want this blog to be a reflection of me, a way for me to express myself, and a way for others to get to know me better. On the other hand, I don't want to put too much personal information out there for random people to find out things about me that they could somehow use against me. For those of you who know me, I'm happy to share details like the date of our Anniversary, how long we've been married, etc. For the blog, I'll write my feelings, but leave out certain details.
Recently, Emily and I talked about some frustrations I was feeling. She was so supportive. She gave me some great advice and the day after we talked, I had one of the happiest, most productive days I had had in weeks. She told me she had prayed for me throughout that day and was so happy to hear that my day went well. In addition to her prayers, my attitude was enlivened by the support and love she gave me the night before. She listened to my problems, avoided judging me (she never does), and gave me her love and support. She really is a fantastic wife and I am so grateful for her.
We've been through some tough times together. Like any relationship, there have been times that have really challenged us and times when we felt like giving up. But we're stubborn and we refuse to give up! We're both far from perfect, but we try hard to be good to each other in good times and bad and we're making it work.
One of the important things I've learned that I believe makes our marriage work is that we try to give each other freedom to be who we want to be. Emily has almost always given me that respect. While I've always had a great respect for the ideal of freedom, I've had to learn how to practice granting that freedom to my wife in everyday life. She has put up with a lot from me over the years and she has been very patient with me when I've been arrogant and domineering. To really appreciate the virtue of my wife, I have to divulge some of my own weaknesses. Her patience with me has been one of the things I've admired about her the most. Did I mention that she's an amazing woman? Well, in addition to being an angel on the inside, she's gorgeous on the outside. Check this out.
Isn't she beautiful? I really am lucky to have her. Happy Anniversary, Emily. Thanks for making life good.
Recently, Emily and I talked about some frustrations I was feeling. She was so supportive. She gave me some great advice and the day after we talked, I had one of the happiest, most productive days I had had in weeks. She told me she had prayed for me throughout that day and was so happy to hear that my day went well. In addition to her prayers, my attitude was enlivened by the support and love she gave me the night before. She listened to my problems, avoided judging me (she never does), and gave me her love and support. She really is a fantastic wife and I am so grateful for her.
We've been through some tough times together. Like any relationship, there have been times that have really challenged us and times when we felt like giving up. But we're stubborn and we refuse to give up! We're both far from perfect, but we try hard to be good to each other in good times and bad and we're making it work.
One of the important things I've learned that I believe makes our marriage work is that we try to give each other freedom to be who we want to be. Emily has almost always given me that respect. While I've always had a great respect for the ideal of freedom, I've had to learn how to practice granting that freedom to my wife in everyday life. She has put up with a lot from me over the years and she has been very patient with me when I've been arrogant and domineering. To really appreciate the virtue of my wife, I have to divulge some of my own weaknesses. Her patience with me has been one of the things I've admired about her the most. Did I mention that she's an amazing woman? Well, in addition to being an angel on the inside, she's gorgeous on the outside. Check this out.
Isn't she beautiful? I really am lucky to have her. Happy Anniversary, Emily. Thanks for making life good.
Men Without Chests
Several years ago, I read C.S. Lewis's "The Abolition of Man" and realized pretty quickly that it was way over my head. I thought I was a reasonably intelligent guy, but that book was humbling to read. I plowed through it anyway and, although I understood parts of his argument, I couldn't explain it to someone else. I know because I tried once. It didn't work. Last week, I picked it up again and read the first chapter entitled "Men Without Chests" and it was really gratifying to find that I was able to understand much more of it. The Latin, Greek, etc. he uses may always throw me off, but I have a much clearer picture in my mind of what he was trying to say. I still don't think I can explain it clearly, but I'm going to try the first chapter here. I sometimes wish I could spend a few years getting an education in the Classics and Liberal Arts. I can't imagine going back for more formal education, but I never want to stop learning. Some of the most important ideas in life are outside the major I chose.
The Abolition of Man is a defense of absolutism and attempts to make the case that relativistic theory ultimately destroys the humanity of men. Lewis begins the book by discussing a passage in an English textbook for young boys. The passage tells a story of Coleridge at a waterfall speaking with two tourists. One described the waterfall as "sublime" and the other as "pretty". Coleridge agreed with the first assessment, but was disgusted by the second. The authors of the textbook then make the claim that in describing the scene, the two individuals were not so much describing the waterfall as they were their own feelings upon viewing it and the implication is made that those feelings are not important or, if important, are at most only relatively valid. When I read Lewis' description of the passage, I originally didn't see much to complain about, but Lewis rips the authors apart for what he sees as the pernicious end of this line of thinking.
There are two issues here that Lewis attacks. The first is 1) the relativity of value and the second is 2) the undesirability or unimportance of emotion. The first idea is a step down the path toward total relativism. The authors of the textbook are implying that an object or an idea can not actually BE something of value. Its only value lies in the emotional response of people experiencing it. The second issue is the implication that these emotions are unimportant or undesirable. This idea is again implied in another passage from the textbook debunking a piece of slick propaganda in an attempt to protect young boys from making foolish decisions based on emotion. The debunking is done by demonizing the emotional response, which can often be duped by propaganda.
Relative Value
In dealing with the first issue, Lewis claims that objects, events, etc. have value independently. He also claims that there is a proper emotional response for such values in objects or events. The waterfall, he says, really IS sublime, not simply because an observer recognized it as sublime, but because it has objective value of its own. When the viewer recognized and acknowledged it as sublime, he did so because he felt feelings of veneration and humility upon viewing it, those feelings being the appropriate response to the sublimity of the waterfall. Lewis cites Aristotle and others who claimed that a proper education consists in training young people to feel the proper emotion fitting to objects or events. The proper emotional response on seeing a violent crime, let's say murder, for example, might consist of horror, revulsion, and a desire to bring the criminal to justice. A morbid fascination or excitement is a twisted, improper response.
Lewis deals more with the relativistic issue in two later chapters, so I won't dwell on it too much here. In the second chapter (I read it again earlier this week), he shows that an attempt to walk the middle ground between absolutism and radical relativism is unworkable. Those two paradigms are, he claims, at least self consistent, but an attempt at compromise, as the textbook authors seem to be doing, is laden with paradoxes. In his third chapter, my memory tells me that, having established that there are only two self-consistent theories, he makes the case that the radical relativistic scenario takes the humanity out of men. But I haven't gotten that far yet. What really struck me on reading the first chapter again was how Lewis deals with the second issue - something I totally missed the first time I read it.
Unimportant Emotions
Lewis states that we are, by nature, made up of three basic parts. First, we are intelligence, represented by the head, with the power to reason. Second, we are emotion, or, I would also say, spirit or a power of will. These passions are thought to reside in the chest or the heart and should rightly be subservient to reason as the chest is below the head. Third, we are material creatures with physical appetites and passions. These appetites may be thought to center in the stomach. Lewis claims that the emotions are critical in governing the physical part of our nature because reason is incapable of doing it. Reason may, with practice, learn to govern emotions, but it is emotion that can govern the physical appetites.
Since emotion is seen as being centered in the chest, the evisceration of emotion by teaching young people that emotions are relative, unimportant, etc., is to surgically remove the "chest" of a man and leave him powerless to govern the baser instincts. I say "man" because Lewis talks about men and also because men are more likely than women to try to eliminate their emotions. Without emotion, we become, in a sense, mere animals, driven by our passions and instincts with our reason firmly intact, but unable to properly govern those drives.
By eliminating emotion, we may smugly think we're too smart to let someone use our emotions against us (again, think propaganda), but we also become cynical. I've fallen into that trap before, seeking to eliminate emotion rather than let those emotions govern me. The correct path, Lewis argues, is not the elimination of emotion, but learning to rein it in and guide it in the right direction. When made the servant of reason, those emotions empower us rather than enslave us. This path, by the way, also inoculates against propaganda and other forms of deception, but tearing out the chest is less work.
After reading the first chapter again, it occurred to me that, like our mind and body, maybe our emotions need exercise. When I listen to beautiful music, my emotions are swayed by the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. I read a book recently called "Dear John" that tugged at my heart and although not all of those emotions were pleasant, it seemed to me, as I was experiencing it, to be a healthy exercise to have them tugged in different directions.
Rather than tearing out our chests, perhaps, to be true men, we need to nurture proper emotion, train ourselves to feel the emotion fitting to an event or idea, and seek to govern emotion rather than eliminate it. In Lewis' words, "For every one pupil who needs to be guarded from a weak excess of sensibility [or emotion] there are three who need to be awakened from the slumber of cold vulgarity. The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles but to irrigate deserts."
Men Without Chests. Lewis noted the widespread deformity in his day. It's a continuing epidemic today. Welcome to the Brave New World. Let's buck the trend.
The Abolition of Man is a defense of absolutism and attempts to make the case that relativistic theory ultimately destroys the humanity of men. Lewis begins the book by discussing a passage in an English textbook for young boys. The passage tells a story of Coleridge at a waterfall speaking with two tourists. One described the waterfall as "sublime" and the other as "pretty". Coleridge agreed with the first assessment, but was disgusted by the second. The authors of the textbook then make the claim that in describing the scene, the two individuals were not so much describing the waterfall as they were their own feelings upon viewing it and the implication is made that those feelings are not important or, if important, are at most only relatively valid. When I read Lewis' description of the passage, I originally didn't see much to complain about, but Lewis rips the authors apart for what he sees as the pernicious end of this line of thinking.
There are two issues here that Lewis attacks. The first is 1) the relativity of value and the second is 2) the undesirability or unimportance of emotion. The first idea is a step down the path toward total relativism. The authors of the textbook are implying that an object or an idea can not actually BE something of value. Its only value lies in the emotional response of people experiencing it. The second issue is the implication that these emotions are unimportant or undesirable. This idea is again implied in another passage from the textbook debunking a piece of slick propaganda in an attempt to protect young boys from making foolish decisions based on emotion. The debunking is done by demonizing the emotional response, which can often be duped by propaganda.
Relative Value
In dealing with the first issue, Lewis claims that objects, events, etc. have value independently. He also claims that there is a proper emotional response for such values in objects or events. The waterfall, he says, really IS sublime, not simply because an observer recognized it as sublime, but because it has objective value of its own. When the viewer recognized and acknowledged it as sublime, he did so because he felt feelings of veneration and humility upon viewing it, those feelings being the appropriate response to the sublimity of the waterfall. Lewis cites Aristotle and others who claimed that a proper education consists in training young people to feel the proper emotion fitting to objects or events. The proper emotional response on seeing a violent crime, let's say murder, for example, might consist of horror, revulsion, and a desire to bring the criminal to justice. A morbid fascination or excitement is a twisted, improper response.
Lewis deals more with the relativistic issue in two later chapters, so I won't dwell on it too much here. In the second chapter (I read it again earlier this week), he shows that an attempt to walk the middle ground between absolutism and radical relativism is unworkable. Those two paradigms are, he claims, at least self consistent, but an attempt at compromise, as the textbook authors seem to be doing, is laden with paradoxes. In his third chapter, my memory tells me that, having established that there are only two self-consistent theories, he makes the case that the radical relativistic scenario takes the humanity out of men. But I haven't gotten that far yet. What really struck me on reading the first chapter again was how Lewis deals with the second issue - something I totally missed the first time I read it.
Unimportant Emotions
Lewis states that we are, by nature, made up of three basic parts. First, we are intelligence, represented by the head, with the power to reason. Second, we are emotion, or, I would also say, spirit or a power of will. These passions are thought to reside in the chest or the heart and should rightly be subservient to reason as the chest is below the head. Third, we are material creatures with physical appetites and passions. These appetites may be thought to center in the stomach. Lewis claims that the emotions are critical in governing the physical part of our nature because reason is incapable of doing it. Reason may, with practice, learn to govern emotions, but it is emotion that can govern the physical appetites.
Since emotion is seen as being centered in the chest, the evisceration of emotion by teaching young people that emotions are relative, unimportant, etc., is to surgically remove the "chest" of a man and leave him powerless to govern the baser instincts. I say "man" because Lewis talks about men and also because men are more likely than women to try to eliminate their emotions. Without emotion, we become, in a sense, mere animals, driven by our passions and instincts with our reason firmly intact, but unable to properly govern those drives.
By eliminating emotion, we may smugly think we're too smart to let someone use our emotions against us (again, think propaganda), but we also become cynical. I've fallen into that trap before, seeking to eliminate emotion rather than let those emotions govern me. The correct path, Lewis argues, is not the elimination of emotion, but learning to rein it in and guide it in the right direction. When made the servant of reason, those emotions empower us rather than enslave us. This path, by the way, also inoculates against propaganda and other forms of deception, but tearing out the chest is less work.
After reading the first chapter again, it occurred to me that, like our mind and body, maybe our emotions need exercise. When I listen to beautiful music, my emotions are swayed by the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. I read a book recently called "Dear John" that tugged at my heart and although not all of those emotions were pleasant, it seemed to me, as I was experiencing it, to be a healthy exercise to have them tugged in different directions.
Rather than tearing out our chests, perhaps, to be true men, we need to nurture proper emotion, train ourselves to feel the emotion fitting to an event or idea, and seek to govern emotion rather than eliminate it. In Lewis' words, "For every one pupil who needs to be guarded from a weak excess of sensibility [or emotion] there are three who need to be awakened from the slumber of cold vulgarity. The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles but to irrigate deserts."
Men Without Chests. Lewis noted the widespread deformity in his day. It's a continuing epidemic today. Welcome to the Brave New World. Let's buck the trend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)