The Life of Pure Consumption

As I continue with my research project on Marx and freedom, I'm finding Marx's conception of human nature to depend hugely upon productive activity. For him, it seems that this ability to produce and "objectify our essence" through production is what makes us uniquely human. While I am largely sympathetic to this view, I think one thought experiment might clarify things a bit. Is it possible to live the life of pure consumption, i.e. one which involves no productive activity? Of course we all want leisure time and to consume at minimal cost (or no cost), but is it actually possible to produce nothing? If it is possible, than perhaps Marx is wrong. Perhaps we can live as the morbidly obese humans aboard the Axiom as in WALL-E...

In case the question is still unclear, imagine the following. You live in a cushy Upper East Side apartment, with an unlimited credit card. You can buy whatever you want, and you are free to move about and do as you please. Your apartment has a kitchen, with beautiful granite counters but no stove or oven, for to cook would be to engage in productive, creative activity. You can buy clothes from the most expensive stores, but you must only wear them as entire outfits, for to assemble your own would be to produce, to create. As you move about your social life, you can shower your friends with lavish gifts, but only objects which you can purchase in their entirety. You may not bake them a cake, or write them a card, or even use poetic language in your speech, for to do so would be, again, to create. You may have sex with anyone (and anything), but only if you agree to be sterile. You are free to take and to consume anything you wish -- but you must never create.

Is this life possible? Could it be fulfilling, and livable? To me, it seems to be clearly a distopia, but must it be so? Must our lives include creation, or is this demand simply that of a misty-eyed dreamer divorced from reality?

For a Ruthless Criticism of Everything Existing

As I embark upon a whirlwind tour of lesser known Marxian texts through Tucker's Marx-Engels Reader (2nd ed.), I've found quite a few gems that seem to confirm many of my suspicions about various aspects of Marx's views. The following quote from a letter to Arnold Ruge in September 1843 (just a year before the Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts) is one of particular clarity:

Our motto must therefore be: Reform of consciousness not through dogmas, but through analyzing the mystical consciousness, the consciousness which is unclear to itself, whether it appears in religious or political form. Then it will transpire that the world has long been dreaming of something that it can acquire if only it becomes conscious of it. It will transpire that it is not a matter of drawing a great dividing line between past and future, but of carrying out the thoughts of the past. And finally, it will transpire that mankind begins no new work, but consciously accomplishes its old work.

So, we can express the trend of our journal in one word: the word of our time to clarify to itself (critical philosophy) the meaning of its own struggle and its own desires. This is work for the world and for us. It can only be the work of joint forces. It is a matter of confession, no more. To have its sins forgiven mankind has only to declare them to be what they really are.

Though this passage is not terribly exciting as an expression of his stance against ideology (as it is just one statement amongst many of similar philosophical substance), it elucidates a view on the task of the social philosopher that I find myself being very sympathetic to. More on this later, but for now, I thought I'd just share this rather beautifully written passage. Onwards!

The Dfficulty of Writing Poetry

I recently had an interesting conversation with a young poet and good friend that has made me pause and think about some of the philosophical issues regarding poetry, specifically the difficulty of writing it, and the questions one is confronted with when attempting to do so. This entry is somewhat deviating from more formal philosophical inquiry, but I hope it will prove to be interesting intellectual fodder nonetheless. Given my lack of background in this area, I will dive into this topic essay-style with some reflections and questions. (If you have answers or theories, please give them!)

Allow me first to recount my (very recent) experience of writing a poem, one which I assume is rather generic, at least insofar as it seems to make clear to me some of the frustrations many poets have expressed towards language and words. As I began to write, I maintained a dual purpose: (1) to empty, in a therapeutic manner, parts of the whirlpool of emotion I found myself drowning in, and (2) to create a "poem," however one might choose to define that. General wisdom seems to dictate that the process of accomplishing (2) often leads to the successful overcoming of the problematic and/or unwanted emotional state in (1). In reality, I found it difficult to accomplish both (1) and (2) simultaneously. When I channeled my "true," "honest" emotions, my words emerged as trite overstatements that one might find in the lyrics of some tacky power ballad. Conversely, when I tried to create an original, coherent, perhaps even beautiful (if I am to admit of my ambition) work of art, the words seemed to gain a life of their own, crafting elaborate shapes and sounds and donning upon me a Yeatsian mask against my will.

So what, then, is the philosophical importance of this conflict? Well, first of all, what is honesty in the context of poetry? If you did not conduct extensive research into every word and every possible combination of words, how could you be sure that the given combination is reflective of your true feelings, or emotions? Are words themselves not just fundamentally inadequate as a form of expression? It seems like no medium could be adequate. Even a sophisticated event-recreation machine which mimicked all sensual and emotional information entering the brain within a particular moment is insufficient to capture any such truth. What's perhaps even trickier is the exact nature of emotional truth and how it is affected by the basic ways in which we view the world in addition to our (untrustworthy) memories. Can such things be defined?

To continue the story of my intellectual journey as a (highly amateur) poet, I found that there was indeed a way in which my two tasks supported each other, though in a somewhat unexpected fashion. As I was writing, I became bored with certain words and substituted them with more exciting ones. For example, the line "the moment was right" (a very true reflection of the feeling I was trying to convey) became "the dove's arson alight." The dove is a symbol of hope, and its arson is a darker version of fire, which--since it is alight--also represents hope, with connotations of passionate longing as well. The latter surely represents a more complex emotional story, but is it my story? Was the alliteration of "arson alight" just too aurally pleasing to pass up, or did a tinge of evil really lurk behind this potential-ridden but regret-filled moment? Is my work authentic, even relative to me? To what degree was I being honest, and not just with a potential reader -- but with myself? It seems that modern, mainstream society has tended to hail darker, more emotionally charged poetry as being inherently most honest, but was I truly being more honest in the revised line or was I perhaps just letting myself fall into the now-Romanticized notion of a dark, brooding poet?

This brings me to another point: mimesis. Though I generally believe art to imitate life (at least, historically, if not categorically), I think that the increasing pervasiveness of art in our modern world (likely due to technological advances and the rising of a middle class) has generated increasingly widespread exceptions. As Oscar Wilde writes famously in The Decay of Lying (1889), it is often the case that "Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life." It is interesting to think about how slightly different tastes in aesthetic qualities of either appearance or sound can produce almost chaotic results in the final form of the poem. Furthermore, if Life is imitating Art, then our own understanding and conception of our past memories, when committed to paper (or, computer screen), is shaped at least to some extent by our (oft-irrational, oft-unpredictable) aesthetic preferences. Though the anti-memetic concept is often frightening because of its connotations of the power of mass marketing and brainwashing, it's fascinating to see it work at an internal level. By writing and by choosing words with which to express ourselves, we make concrete a fleeting thought and we take a chisel to our memories and carve it into the most appealing shape that we can then fit into our precarious identities.

The Problem of Transparency

One of the major issues in the management of any democratic organization is transparency. Though the word itself takes on primarily positive connotations and is oftentimes presumed as absolutely necessary in any democratic organization. However, experience in political offices and organizational leadership positions tells us that the degree of transparency employed by the leadership or executive body is a difficult political as well as ethical question.

In a democratic organization or state, transparency is prima facie necessary. If political or organizational power is to be derived from the constituent members, then its members must be informed. However, there are two glaring problems.

THE NOBLE LIE

The first is the essentially the Platonic kallipolis-style noble (or "virtuous") lie. The masses do not always know what is best for themselves, and it is sometimes necessary to control their access to certain information in order to produce the most desirable consequences. In the Republic, the noble lie is the story where people are born constituted by three different metals, a "lie" used to maintain social harmony by giving legitimacy to the proposed social stratification. Though used in the kallipolis to relate a false myth, the noble lie can be thought to operate through omission as well. Thus, transparency is often undermined by the control of information access for good social consequences.

This is undoubtedly the more dubious of the opposing forces to transparency. From a Kantian perspective, withholding information in such a way is to treat the masses not as ends in themselves, but as means to a socially desirable ends. However, it is important to note that it is a non-ideal policy, operating under the (non-ideal) premise that people are not able to know what is best for themselves. Perhaps a more robust educational system founded on a rigorous study of the liberal arts from the very beginning would be enough to push society towards a more ideal state, but for now, the non-ideal situation must be assumed, and legitimacy given to the noble lie.

INFORMATION MANAGEMENT

The other caveat working against transparency is the management of large volumes of information. Given our new technological age, the access to information is becoming less and less of an issue. With the advent of the internet and constant streams of information coming from every individual (and organizations such as Wikileaks), the problem is less how we access information and more how we sift through all of it to discover what we want to know. We have more than enough information now; in fact, we have too much, and most of the things we publish and share are lost in the annals of cyberspace. An extra email from an executive body (be it the leadership of an organization or political power) becomes hidden amidst thousands of other messages. Even if a responsible, executive power is 100% transparent in their communications, it is not necessarily true that the correct information will reach the correct hands.

So we are left with a difficult problem about transparency. On the one hand, it is the ideal under which democracy is even possible. On the other hand, there are many instances where full disclosure is perhaps not the most wise, and--even if it were--the dissemination of the information is not always a simple task.

PUSH vs. PULL

One possible solution to the issue of transparency is to distinguish between various ways of distributing information. In this way, it will be possible to reject the binary of disseminating and withholding information by being aware of several intermediaries.

One fundamental distinction to make is the difference between push and pull information, terms traditionally used by software engineers to describe data flow. In communications technology, the data-push model consists of an individual pushing the data stream continuously to the clients whereas the data-pull model consists of an individual pushing the data stream to a server where it is held until the client decides to pull the data off the server.

This distinction can be applied to an organizational executive body's control of information access. There are many ways that an organization can choose to convey various information, a variety made much wider by social networking technology, and each of these ways represents a different information conveyance model. A letter, an email, or an announcement at a mandatory meeting would all be a examples of push information. A tweet or a posting to a bulletin board would be examples of push information.

BEYOND THE PUSH/PULL BINARY

It is important to realize that the push/pull information distinction is not a perfect binary. Given the present culture, a client is relatively free to ignore an email. Thus, email is not perfectly an example of push information, and contains elements of pull information as well -- the client would need to actively decide to open the email for the information conveyed to have proper uptake. The specific situation is also important to where the mode of communication falls on the spectrum between push and pull. For example, a direct email from Barack Obama is likely to be opened automatically, whereas an email from the Vice President of the Society for Socially Responsible Electrical Engineers of Manhattan would most likely merit some consideration before opening and reading.

Thus, the urgency of a particular piece of information is given by the relationship between the sender and the recipient, other particularities of the situation, and the mode of communication chosen. We take urgency to be a technical term, which can be defined as the objective degree to which a piece of information can be construed as push information (as opposed to pull). The the term is taken to be an objective quantity, its measurement is extremely difficult and impossible to fully precisify.

MOVING FORWARD

To conclude, the reason why the issue of transparency is so difficult to resolve is because the question is formulated based on an oversimplified binary. The question should not be about whether transparency is good or just. Rather, it should be about the level of urgency given a piece of particular information and whether that is good or just. Discussions about transparency should investigate the relationship between sender and recipient, and then decide on the appropriate means of communication by appeal to the proper level of urgency that should be attributed

Consistency of World Views

Consumption of caffeine is almost ubiquitous in American society (particularly in New York, the city that never sleeps). It is a behavior and cultural phenomenon that is hardly ever put into serious question. But what can we say about its performance-enhancing aspects? Is a lawyer's or student's cup-a-day coffee habit different than a baseball player's creatine regimen? This morning, I had an interesting conversation with a friend regarding caffeine consumption and his choice to not consume caffeine. Although I was far from being convinced from abandoning my occasional use of caffeine (frequent use during finals week), the argumentative structure he used was interestingly foreign to me, and our conversation seemed to almost represent the east-west paradigmatic difference in philosophy.

This friend of mine claimed that use of caffeine was bad, and explained his choice to avoid caffeine with the following two supporting arguments:

Argument 1
P1 = Caffeine is a performance-enhancing substance.
P2 = It is morally wrong to consume any performance-enhancing substance.
C = Caffeine consumption is morally wrong.

Argument 2
P1 = Caffeine consumption causes positive effects such as increased alertness, etc.
P2 = Caffeine consumption causes various side effects such as the jitters, fast heartbeat, etc.
P3 = The negative side effects of caffeine consumption outweigh the positive effects.
C = Caffeine consumption is impractical.

We have, then, a two-sided argument for why the consumption of caffeine is bad. We can summarize the overall argument, then, as follows:

Overall Argument
P1 = Caffeine consumption is morally wrong.
P2 = Caffeine consumption is impractical.
C = Since caffeine consumption is both morally wrong and impractical, it is bad and we ought not to do it.

Disregarding the soundness of the argument for argument's sake, it seems quite apparent that the argument is valid. If something is both morally wrong and impractical, must it not then be bad in all senses of the term? What seems to be problematic with this position is that the two premises assume two fundamentally competing world views, i.e. deontological ethics and consequentialism. Thus, while the argument is valid for the issue at hand, it assumes two inconsistent world views. If one is to judge the goodness of an action based on its adherence to moralized rules such as "It is wrong to consume any performance-enhancing substance," how can one also judge the goodness of an action based on its consequences such as health benefits?

In this case, both the deontological and consequentialist view produce the same result that caffeine consumption is bad, but it is not difficult to come up with a case where the produce starkly contrasting results. [See end for such an example.] Thus, if one is to maintain a consistent and systematic approach to ethics, the two views can not be maintained simultaneously across all issues. This division of deontology and consequentialism is a characteristically western canonical distinction, and my friend raised a very good question in response to my counter-argument:

Why can't I hold these two views simultaneously? Do my two arguments not compliment each other in helping me to formulate my decision on this particular issue of caffeine consumption?

The answer is perhaps not so clear. And perhaps it is worth thinking about whether, as logical and rational beings, we ought to enforce this idea of consistency in world view. Although it serves to simplify matters and the appeal to consistency is certainly compelling, perhaps it is also important to consider the possibility of being more flexible on systematic views in order to allow a more complete and holistic approach to individual issues...

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The following is a case where the deontological and consequentialist view produce contrasting results. Suppose I donate $50 to a non-profit masquerading as a world hunger advocacy group that is actually an under-cover terrorist organization. The deontologist would condone my actions on the basis that I acted upon my duty to aid the world's poor. The consequentialist, however, would find my actions to be deeply problematic in that I just contributed to $50 worth of supplies for a suicide bomber.

Pornography and Capitalism

Airing first in 2002, "American Porn" is a Frontline documentary on the American porn industry. It sheds light into some of the practices of the porn industry (especially with the current technology and internet explosion) and traces some of the history of porn legislation. In particular, the film discusses the "Miller Test," which is the current standard for determining whether or not speech can be labeled as "obscene." Based on "community standards," this rule seems to be fundamentally flawed given our capitalistic society.

First of all, I must say that I am a firm supporter of pornography in general. I think arguments against pornography as a whole are weak at best, and the current proliferation of porn represents a healthy move beyond past sexual repression. However, there are certainly examples of porn that seem intuitively unnacceptable -- child pornography, depictions of rape and (sexually charged) homicide -- that complicate the matter. Part of the beauty of capitalism and globalization is the ability for individuals to satisfy their very particular desires. Sexual fetishism should certainly not be discouraged. But where do we draw the line? "American Porn" discussed (and partially depicted) an example of a pornographic video where a woman is kidnapped, violently raped, and murdered afterwards. Though I do not immediately feel the need to place a ban on such depictions, I must admit that something does not feel quite right and am hesitant to immediately condone such forms of pornography.

The current Miller Test, defined in the 1973 case Miller vs. California, is as follows. A form of expression can be labeled obscene (and therefore not be subject to protection from the 1st Amendment) based on:

• Whether "the average person, applying contemporary community standards," would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest,
• Whether the work depicts/describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by applicable state law,
• Whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political or scientific value.

[taken from Wikipedia and based off findlaw.com]

The use of "community standards," nebulous to begin with, seems to be fundamentally incompatible with our capitalistic system if we are to maintain a morally acceptable position. Assuming that there exists some extreme varieties of porn (perhaps the previously cited example, perhaps worse) that are prima facie morally unacceptable, it is not difficult to see the way the Miller test allows capitalism to continually push us towards the boundary between acceptable and unacceptable.

The fact that the pornography industry is profit-driven, that it is in part run by average Joes whose business choice was dictated by the market means that the business is purely driven by consumer demand. As consumers demand more, these businesses produce more. Given their organizational and administrative prowess, these firms help to institutionally condone a specific genre of pornography. Now accepted by the community due to this influence, the sensationalism fades and a new wave of demand for the most experienced consumers proceeds to push the boundaries further. There is no patent mechanism for some sort of moral intervention into this process. Thus, it can be said that the Miller test for the legality of pornography is questionable in the face of our profit-driven capitalist system. (Or, we could say that it is capitalism that's the issue, but issue is much more complex and for some other time...)


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[A link to the online stream of "American Porn" can be found here.]

On Alcohol and Human Nature

Last night, I attended Sigma Nu's formal, a night traditionally filled with copious amounts of dancing and debauchery. Though I can't say that I was present last year to have a yardstick with which to measure, the night seemed to be more tame than usual; the people, more lucid. Perhaps this was due to the proximity of the night to final exams, but could it have been something else? This morning, my brother Derek suggested that perhaps the alcohol being served to us was not really alcohol. While I still remain skeptical that this was the case, the idea is interesting. It certainly would not be the first time that the placebo effect has been examined via psychological experiments. Although I cannot be bothered to dig up the articles detailing this experiment, it is certainly known that people "act drunkenly" when they genuinely believe that their drink is alcoholic (even though it is not). In fact, as Derek elaborated, this phenomenon happens at bars all the time, when bartenders serve overly-intoxicated individuals virgin drinks in order to appease their desire for alcohol without facilitating alcohol poisoning.

At first glance, this phenomenon does not seem to be very novel or exciting. Anecdotal evidence would've suggested what the psychological experiments proved. However, if we examine this phenomenon as a feature of human nature, the resulting thoughts are rather disturbing.

Let's begin with alcohol and the reason why we drink it in the first place. Discounting more marginal cases of unhealthy drinking, most people seem to imbibe with the idea of "social lubrication" in mind, seeing alcohol as a magic tonic that can loosen up those uptight New Yorker tendencies (which are not limited to New Yorkers). In many ways, this is true, and the observed effects of alcohol (again, in isolated psychological experiments) confirm our belief that being moderately intoxicated does often loosen us up to a certain degree.

What is troubling is that people are able to successfully achieve this effect without the actual alcohol, which is what the phenomenon of fake drunkenness shows us. If we all walk into a party expecting a certain behavior and environment of socially lubricated drunkenness, and if we truly believe that there is some external force responsible for this, we will act accordingly. If we realize this, and that we can achieve all of the (positive, at least) effects of intoxication without the actual alcohol, then why do we feel the need to consume alcohol? Are we not collectively intelligent enough to decide to do away with alcohol so we can avoid all of the negative side effects? Why is it so necessary for us to have alcohol as a scapegoat for our actions? It is as if drunkenness is a free pass to act outside of social norms.

My answer as to why we cannot do this is because alcohol has become so "fetishized," in the Marxist sense. Alcohol is imbued with so much cultural meaning and significance that we cannot abolish it without doing away with our cultural identity. For many teens, alcohol represents a rite of passage. For adults, alcohol is symbol of social life. Unfortunately, it seems like our more spiritual concerns of looking cool and fitting in will override the minor problems of vomit and liver cancer for now...

[NOTE: I am not trying to take a moral stance against alcohol. I am simply trying to point out the illogical and irrational nature of our alcohol consumption.]