How Scientific Can Philosophy Be? or, Scientific Progress Really Does Go Boink On Occasion

A study done recently claims that people tend not to assume an objective standard in morality. The writers of the study argue that, contrary to the view of many philosophers, most normal people have a fairly relativistic view of ethics.

The experiment is as follows. Subjects were asked to imagine two people who are asked to evaluate a situation involving killing. One of these hypothetical people is a college student, the other is (a) also a college student, (b) from an Amazonian culture, or (c) a cruel extraterrestrial race. In this imaginary scenario, one person thinks the act is morally permissible, the other thinks it's morally wrong. The subjects were then asked whether the hypothetical evaluators would agree or disagree in terms of their moral judgment.

Depending on how closely related the two speculative people are, the subjects responded variously. In the case of (a) two college students from the same campus, they were imagined to agree. In (b) a college student and an Amazon, they were imagined to be less in agreement. In the case of (c), a college student and Evil ET, the imagined level of agreement was even lower.

In other words, a few college students in philosophy courses believe that between two individuals, the level of agreement is inversely proportional to the closeness of the similarity of those two individuals. The greater the difference between cultures, the greater the difference of agreement on ethical issues.

I'm afraid the experiment seems quite flawed. Leaving aside the more general problem of the extent to which statistics should determine how we actually think about ethical questions (doesn't every logic textbook consider the argumentum ad populum to be a fallacy? Har-har); leaving aside the even more serious problem of the extent that those numbers should influence how we ought to think about such problems, there are serious difficulties with the experiment presented here.

Basically, the actual sample is not representative - of anything, let alone of "ordinary folks." All the participants were students taking philosophy courses at one college. Hardly the average Joe. And it was a small sample at that: only 223. Let's put that into perspective. In 2006-7 alone there were 11,969 philosophy BAs awarded. This comes from a total number of 1,524,092 BAs awarded in that year. (Figures taken from the National Center for Educational Statistics.) The study doesn't specify whether all the subjects were philosophy majors, but for the sake of perspective and generosity, let's assume they are. And because we're feeling extra generous today, let's assume that all the undergrads completed their studies.

In other words, the sample consisted of 1.45 x 10^-4 of the total undergrad population. This out of an estimated general population of 301.6 million. Assuming the number didn't rise between then and now, this means the sample would only account for less than 2% of the philosophy undergrad population, which itself constitutes less than 1% of the total undergrad population. In the US. (The Census Bureau's estimate for 2007 can be found here; world population figures taken from the Population Reference Bureau.)

That means the study yields a sample of 7.4 x 10^-7 of the US population, or 3.38 x10^-8 of the world's population - in a snapshot of the world's history. Representative it ain't.

Now I confess to knowing little about what experimental philosophy is up to. But if it's trying to be more scientific about philosophy by collecting data, it has to be more scientific in its data collection than is presented here.

Ode to Turkish Coffee

Today's post is half-and-half: one part serious, the other not so much. I'm not sure myself how seriously it should be taken, so - sensitive or snobbish? delicate or dorky? You be the judge. (Oh, and it'll morph like a Wikipedia entry, so mind the timestamp when you cite me for your term paper.)

I want to make a case for the supremacy of Turkish coffee; I'll do this by way of analysis of the idea of civilization. If there ever was a pretentious-sounding word, it's "civilized." With that one word (or its negation) you can piss on anything you want, verbally speaking:

"He doesn't wash his hands? How uncivilized."

"Oh, you can't eat with utensils - use your fingers, like civilized people."

I'm no sociologist, but it seems to me that civilization is marked by at least two things: gratuitous objects and exercise of self-control. And I want to say that it's not merely a matter of one or the other, but the instances of both occurring in an object - something you lovingly devote a fair amount of effort to, even though it serves no purpose beyond its own existence. When, say, you start playing with the decor just because you can, that strikes me as one of those things: there's no reason to move the furniture around except to stave off boredom. But see? you can afford to be bored by the decor.

Let me take coffee as one of those indexes of civilization. If I'm right about all this, the highest form would be Turkish coffee.

Think about it: you don't need coffee to begin with, but there it is, waiting for you to cradle in your hands. Doesn't that feel nice? There's no nutritional value in coffee; we got along just fine without it. So right there we've got something totally useless. "But I need it to stay awake!" you protest. Fine, have a Red Bull then. Mmmm, cough syrup with a kick. And you can chug it.

Too much Red Bull?

We like fast. (How else can you justify the fast food feed bag, even as a joke?) Now you can run by a Starbucks for a triple-shot skim-milk cappuccino - wet or dry - or you can go in some drive-thru joint and grab a paper cuppa. And it's all fast. But a Turkish coffee can't be made fast. You could easily automate it, but you can't speed it up much: its essence is precisely the process of slowly heating up the brew, stopping just short of a full boil - three times. To make good Turkish coffee, you have to be patient.

And even when you get it in your hands, you have to be patient. First you wait - some more - to let the fine coffee silt settle. Then when you do drink the coffee, you can't just swill it down: it's one sip at a time. At best you can hasten slowly. But why would anyone want to hurry down a cup of this deep, rich, gratuitous drink?

This sort of patience is an exercise in delayed gratification - or, put another way, self-control. Little kids think that way: more is better, so a lot more must be a lot better. Faster is better here, so it must be better everywhere, and the faster the better.

Self-control seems generally to be considered the path to quality. Ask any artist or athlete, they'll tell you it takes a lot of work and discipline to make it. You've heard it all before: "Talent will only take you so far; to go that extra mile, you gotta work."

Have I learned this valuable lesson? Not fully, I have to confess; there are plenty of times I've gone for the quick-and-easy way out. I need more practice. Hmmm. Think I'll have me another Turkish coffee. It's good practice.

(Images perilously purloined from http://www.flickr.com/photos/blhphotography/501306828/ and http://www.troys-drums.com/archive/2006_10_01_troys-drums.htm)

Will Pay to Work for Free

Un-friggin-believable this is, if true.

According to mediabistro.com, Room to Grow is celebrating its 10th anniversary at Christie's in NYC. Among the festivities: internships at Vanity Fair and Rolling Stone to be auctioned off. In other words, you can buy your way into an unpaid temporary position.

Just for fun - OK, and to procrastinate a little - I did some snooping. Room to Grow is indeed having their wing-ding at Christie's, and indeed there is an auction. But what they're auctioning isn't disclosed on the website. If it turns out to be true, though, that's a bit troublesome to me.

It wouldn't be the first time: in May the Associated Press reported that a man got an internship at GQ Magazine for his son. How? By paying more than $30,000 - on EBay.

Unless this is common practice, I take this as a bad sign. And if it is common practice, it seems like a pretty iffy one. My understanding was always that internships (and paid jobs) were landed on the basis of merit, not moolah. Readers, I'm appealing to both of you to enlighten me on this point.

In Memoriam: Aimee Alcarez Cowan (1975-2008)

I was blessed to know her in my first two years at TMC. I heard how she did right, teaching at Tufts - she must've been a good professor. Today she passed away. A bright little light has gone out, but I was lucky enough to see. I was lucky enough to be her friend. My prayers go out to her family and friends, but so do my memories. We've all been blessed to know her.



Brian Eno and Harold Budd, "Late October"

Awakenings

I just realized something. In 1988 I was a god-damn no-good dope-smokin' tie-dye wearing long-haired starry-eyed hippie freak.

Well, twenty years later I don't smoke - anything. I don't wear tie-dyes anymore, and my hair's not so long.

So I guess I look different.

Do I regret any of it? Am I ashamed?

Not on your fuckin' life.

Links, links, links

I don't have time for this, but I'm gonna take time anyway. It can't be said strongly enough: Tuesday was one of the biggest days in recent history, not just American history but world history.

Whatever I say really can't do justice to the significance of all this; instead let me offer links to various thinks...Obama said this was a long time coming - just ask Amanda Jones. Courtesy of Agent Intellect, who got it courtesy of Instapundit. Parasitic, these blogs.) The Onion, known for its satire, manages to tell the truth here and here.

For those who think all the racist bigots have gun racks in their pick-em-up trucks - and why the election is so important - check out this by Untravel, which took place right here in so-called cultured Europe, and his friend's little encounter in Moscow. (Stupidity knows no bounds, probably because it can't read a map.) Agent Intellect has rightly said that we should pray for Obama; he couldn't be more correct.

Lots of people have great expectations for Obama; some doubt he'll do much in the Oval Office. I think this: he's there. Obama. Is. There. And that speaks volumes, both for him and the nation that elected him. Never mind quibbles about his being half-black; get real, it doesn't matter. What does matter is - something is happening...

Out of the Mouths of Babes

"Sweetheart, what do you want for your birthday?"

"A president that doesn't suck."

"That's nice."

Done? Well, I'm getting close...

Please accept my apologies, dear readers; I don't want either of you to think I'd been ignoring you. The dissertation is almost finished (yay!), but it's going to take a lot of work (boo!), which means I have no time to blog (hiss!).

One of you - or both, I forget - might've been told the work was almost done. And I forget how many times I might've told you that. Really, I must sound like Bullwinkle...hey, now here's something I hope you really like!

Something good had to come out of the financial meltdown

This must be read to be believed.

Hedge fund investor Andrew Lahde retired in style at 37, leaving behind the ripest farewell letter you ever saw. You can read the whole letter here. The whole financial sector gets lambasted, from Lahde's rivals (whom he candidly calls "idiots whose parents paid for prep school, Yale and then the Harvard MBA") right down to their very lifestyle.

It's only right that somebody as jaded as Mr. Lahde would go into a field he would prefer not to, become one of the players and succeeds wildly by playing the game to the hilt, and then reveal the game for the dysfunctional burning house it is. It's too bad the word could only come out of the ashes.

I can't say the financial sector is inherently evil; that seems more ideological than factual. But certainly there were folks who thought they could work the system in their favor. And the consequences of such short-term thinking, by so many people, came together in an awful way. They were in it for the money, and so was Lahde. The difference: Lahde knew what he was about, and he knew what the game was all about. His fallout rivals knew neither.