5 posts tagged “ethics”
"Existentialism is nothing less than an attempt to draw all the consequences of a coherent atheistic position. It isn't trying to plunge man into despair at all. But if one calls every attitude of unbelief despair, like the Christians, then the word is not being used in its original sense. Existentialism isn't so atheistic that it wears itself out showing that God doesn't exist. Rather, it declares that even if God did exist, that would change nothing. There you've got our point of view. Not that we believe that God exists, but we think that the problem of His existence is not the issue. In this sense, existentialism is optimistic, a doctrine of action, and it is plain dishonesty for Christians to make no distinction between their own despair and ours and then to call us despairing."
Funny that it's always the TED talks that get me fired up enough to blog. Here, "fired up" means positively inspired, which is a nice contrast. In the past few days I've been very frustrated with the global status quo. I won't deny my frustration with the world is positively linked to trouble with my research... but that doesn't mean these nagging concerns are baseless! (Throw me a bone! It's fun!)
There's a post on MetaFilter asking a darn good question: What can I do to lead a more environmentally conscious lifestyle? There are a lot of answers, which is reassuring. Most of them strike me as off the point, which is depressing. The good responses: do donate money to good causes, focus on your CO2 footprint, and try to develop a sense of priorities. Bad: farmers markets, water bottles.
This small site appears a repository for one kind of complaint from me, so I needn't bother making it in full again--but why am I in Michigan? Will my education here offset my crazy CO2 usage? Will all this fretting about our rate of adaptation result in mitigation that genuinely improves people's lives? I want to believe that material standards of living make a difference. Maybe they don't. Maybe we're all better off reproducing freely, even if some future generation suffers enormously. I just don't know how to measure happiness and suffering. I don't begin to understand my own happiness and suffering.
Aesthetics are tricky. My brief Christian education makes me wary of them. But I love good lines. I love color. I stayed up until 4:30 a.m. on Monday night looking at beautiful furniture online. I love, love, love nice spaces and interesting patterns. I will spend more money on pretty sheets than plain ones. This money could've gone to people who need medicine/vitamins/education/etc. Enormous guilt. I don't know how to balance these competing desires.
The people speak very fairly about aesthetics are Virginia Postrel, and, just now on TED, Stefan Sagmeister. Keats doesn't cut it.
Are there any psychologists who are making progress here? I remember the subjective well-being and per capita GDP plot I saw in The Atlantic--that was reassuring (positive correlation, if you couldn't guess). But at what prevalence of malaria infections can I spend more time on interior design? Zero, I'd say. And yet I really, really like pretty things. Fortunately, global dynamics can be lovely to study too.
Now James Howard Kunstler on suburbia. I love the internet. Woof.
From an article by Andrew Revkin in today's New York Times:
"This is a mega-ethical challenge," said Jerry D. Mahlman, a climatologist at the National Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, Colo., who has studied global warming for more than three decades. "In space, its the size of a planet, and in time, it has scales far broader than what we go-go Homo sapiens are accustomed to dealing with."
Hell, yeah. The article otherwise (ironically, given it is on "moderate" scientists in the climate debate) imposes false contrasts between scientists who are quite alarmed and fear catastrophe and those who... want to do something pragmatic? (??) I don't quite see the point, but at least it's another article on climate change!
I've started reading Moral Minds by Marc Hauser (thanks, Dad!). I'm excited. It looks like a properly reasoned argument. I'm on p. 24 so far, and I'm happy he has already illustrated how our altruism/empathy is so constrained by what we can see, and the people whom we actually meet, rather than abiding ethical principles. We wouldn't hesitate to stop at the side of the road to help someone with a bloody leg, even if it involved expensive damage to our car's upholstery, but we toss UNESCO mailings into the recycling (or even the trash!) without much thought. (Again, we're faced with a uniquely large cooperation problem that selection has yet to act on.) The contrast is especially damning because the lives of many people far away can be saved cheaply. Drink a latte or treat someone for malaria. Something like that. It's funny to read these descriptions of Saddam maintaining the "clan" mentality as a ruler--we, too, think on damagingly small scales, both spatial and temporal.
My dad kindly ordered "The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices Matter" for me off my Amazon wish list a few months ago. It took me about two months to read it, though it's just under 300 pp. and very well-written. There's no revelatory research, but it's impressive (and long overdue) in its scope--the review considers ethical implications for animal welfare, the environment, and human health and culture. I was particularly happy to read (finally!) a critique of the "buy local" invocation, which makes little sense to me, especially considering the enormous impact a few dollars can have on the well-being of farmers in developing countries. I was surprised that often the environmental impact, in terms of CO2 produced, is much lower for food shipped halfway around the world (by sea or freight rather than air) than items grown locally in greenhouses. I have an urge to give this book to most everyone I know, but they seem to fall into two camps: either they have already reached >90% of the conclusions summarized here and adjusted their habits accordingly (though the book is useful reinforcement), or they don't seem the least bit interested. I have no idea how to touch the latter. I'm reminded of a relative of mine who, when I asked her if she had seen "An Inconvenient Truth," replied, "Why should I go see that?!"