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And here's my letter to Descartes. I was never able to find any adress he ever lived at, but I was able to find the adress for the church where he is currently buried. (Apparently, he was exhumed and re-buried a couple of different times in the decades following his death.) We read David Hume this week, and I need to write his letter today, and the next two weeks we'll spend on Kant.
INDEPENDENCE, OR 97351
February 20, 2007
Rene Destcartes
l'Eglise St Germain des Prés
3, pl St Germain des Prés
75006 Paris, France
Dear René,
Thank you for sending me a copy of your Meditations on First Philosophy. I enjoyed reading them, and I found the thought experiments in them to be quite interesting. I understand that it is a work of philosophy, not theology, but given the subject matter the distinction is a bit blurred, for persons of faith such as ourselves, so I hope you will not mind if I treat them as such. Also, being a theologian who works in a parish as a pastor, I am necessarily more familiar with practical concerns than theoretical ones. Accordingly I will focus on the practical aspects of your work and leave the high philosophy to those better suited to it.
This brings me to my first comment. I agree wholeheartedly that entering into a dialogue with those who do not believe in God requires a common ground, and a non-theological proof of the existence of God and the soul is one of the better places to find it. And circular reasoning should be avoided at all costs in such dialogues if credibility is to be maintained. I don’t believe, however, that “a mind wholly free of prejudices” is possible. Everyone has prejudices and preconceptions, and they persist no matter how hard we try to eradicate them. What generally happens when one tries to ignore them is that they go underground, and affect one’s thinking in less obvious—but no less important—ways. I’ve found, personally, that the best way to handle such things is by stating my prejudices up front, and then examining my thoughts in light of them, but your mileage may vary. If nothing else, stating one’s prejudices up front allows the readers to make a better-informed decision about one’s reasoning, as they don’t have to stumble over implicit assumptions.
There is one particular implicit assumption in the third Meditation that would cause problems were this work to be read by someone from a non-Western background: the assumption that there is only one God. Self-evident as this may seem to us, most of the world considers it a very strange assertion. Westerners, even Western atheists, are steeped in a tradition derived from the strict monotheism of the Hebrews on the one hand and Plato’s philosophy on the other; it is difficult to remember that apart from these two traditions, polytheism and henotheism are the rule, and that both elements of our own tradition were thought very strange indeed when they first developed. Your definition of God as “infinite, independent, all-knowing, all-powerful” and that “by which I and everything else … have been created” is a good basic definition (I would add references to His grace and mercy, but what you have is good and His grace and mercy would probably require Scripture to prove, anyway). But in a world of growing multiculturalism we must take into account the idea that there are a great many people in the world who would not agree with it. And if (as you stated in your dedication) your aim in writing these Meditations is to reach such people, this definition of God cannot simply be taken for granted.
I also have an issue with the contention in your third Meditation that “we need not fear that falsity can enter the will and into affections.” Humans are capable of a great deal of self-deception, particularly as regards matters where the world’s opinion is strong and vocal. We sometimes convince ourselves that we desire something we really don’t because we think we should desire it. Consider Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind, who believed for years that she was in love with Ashley Wilkes because he was the perfect model of a Southern gentleman, and tried to ignore Rhett Butler because he was a bit of a scoundrel. Yet in the end, when Ashley was within her reach, she realized that she didn’t actually want him. She threw away what she truly wanted to get what she thought she preferred. Her affections were false. True, this is a fictional story, but it is one that has endured because of the kernel of truth in the relationships of its characters. Three paragraphs after your statement on falsity of affections you note that natural impulses have often led you to choose vice over virtue; this is most certainly true. If you had applied this principle to affections and will, I doubt you would have drawn the same conclusion.
The other Meditation with which I have problems is the fourth, “Of the True and the False.” I know that belief in the Devil has been out of fashion for quite some time, particularly among the intellectual elite. I happen to believe in him (though I don’t insist on his personification). In any case, I would argue that evil does exist, and there is a great deal more of it in the world than can be explained by “a certain negative idea of nothing.” An error may be regarded as “simply a defect” to be sure, and many evils in the world are caused by ignorance or lack of knowledge, but not all or even most. If the only people who committed murder or theft were those who did not know that it was wrong, who did not recognize life and honest work as “true and good,” our prisons would be far emptier than they are. Even granting that they may not perceive what is true and good with as much clearness and distinctness as one might wish, it does not take a moral or intellectual genius to realize that murder and stealing are wrong. This does not prevent people from committing those crimes anyway.
You further argue that “it is a greater perfection in the whole universe that certain parts should not be exempt from error as others are than that all parts should be exactly similar.” It’s a good argument, and I would say that it holds up when the errors involved are relatively minor, the sort generally found in day-to-day life. When one holds this same argument up against greater “errors,” such as the various genocides, attempted genocides, and jihads of the Twentieth Century, it becomes less convincing. Those are not errors. Those are evil. If I believed that God allowed such horrors to happen simply because the universe would be more interesting if it were not all the same, I would refuse to worship him. If, however, one admits to the possibility of evil as greater than simply the absence of good, these problems become much easier to deal with.
The next part of this argument is that “every clear and distinct conception is without doubt something, and hence cannot derive its origin from what is nought, but must of necessity have God as its author.” This is the case only if one limits “clear and distinct conception” to good, moral ideas. “Good” people are not the only ones capable of clear and intelligent thinking; the world would be a much safer place if this were not so, but it is. For example, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics had an official ideology that was clear and distinct and based on a work that (despite its severe problems in practical application) has some logic to it and was based on a desire for justice and equality, two ideals that are certainly good when taken in the abstract. The USSR used its clear and distinct official ideology to create and maintain one of the most oppressive totalitarian regimes in modern history. I commend your efforts in this Meditation, but I’m afraid that when one applies the principles you develop in it to the real world, they are less than useful at best.
I’ve concentrated in this letter on the things I disagree with in your work. This is not because I don’t like or value it, but because those areas of it which I think are good (particularly the first two Meditations) are very good indeed, and I find myself with little useful to say except thank you for such a fascinating journey through the mind.
Cordially,
Beatrice Otter
INDEPENDENCE, OR 97351
February 20, 2007
Rene Destcartes
l'Eglise St Germain des Prés
3, pl St Germain des Prés
75006 Paris, France
Dear René,
Thank you for sending me a copy of your Meditations on First Philosophy. I enjoyed reading them, and I found the thought experiments in them to be quite interesting. I understand that it is a work of philosophy, not theology, but given the subject matter the distinction is a bit blurred, for persons of faith such as ourselves, so I hope you will not mind if I treat them as such. Also, being a theologian who works in a parish as a pastor, I am necessarily more familiar with practical concerns than theoretical ones. Accordingly I will focus on the practical aspects of your work and leave the high philosophy to those better suited to it.
This brings me to my first comment. I agree wholeheartedly that entering into a dialogue with those who do not believe in God requires a common ground, and a non-theological proof of the existence of God and the soul is one of the better places to find it. And circular reasoning should be avoided at all costs in such dialogues if credibility is to be maintained. I don’t believe, however, that “a mind wholly free of prejudices” is possible. Everyone has prejudices and preconceptions, and they persist no matter how hard we try to eradicate them. What generally happens when one tries to ignore them is that they go underground, and affect one’s thinking in less obvious—but no less important—ways. I’ve found, personally, that the best way to handle such things is by stating my prejudices up front, and then examining my thoughts in light of them, but your mileage may vary. If nothing else, stating one’s prejudices up front allows the readers to make a better-informed decision about one’s reasoning, as they don’t have to stumble over implicit assumptions.
There is one particular implicit assumption in the third Meditation that would cause problems were this work to be read by someone from a non-Western background: the assumption that there is only one God. Self-evident as this may seem to us, most of the world considers it a very strange assertion. Westerners, even Western atheists, are steeped in a tradition derived from the strict monotheism of the Hebrews on the one hand and Plato’s philosophy on the other; it is difficult to remember that apart from these two traditions, polytheism and henotheism are the rule, and that both elements of our own tradition were thought very strange indeed when they first developed. Your definition of God as “infinite, independent, all-knowing, all-powerful” and that “by which I and everything else … have been created” is a good basic definition (I would add references to His grace and mercy, but what you have is good and His grace and mercy would probably require Scripture to prove, anyway). But in a world of growing multiculturalism we must take into account the idea that there are a great many people in the world who would not agree with it. And if (as you stated in your dedication) your aim in writing these Meditations is to reach such people, this definition of God cannot simply be taken for granted.
I also have an issue with the contention in your third Meditation that “we need not fear that falsity can enter the will and into affections.” Humans are capable of a great deal of self-deception, particularly as regards matters where the world’s opinion is strong and vocal. We sometimes convince ourselves that we desire something we really don’t because we think we should desire it. Consider Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind, who believed for years that she was in love with Ashley Wilkes because he was the perfect model of a Southern gentleman, and tried to ignore Rhett Butler because he was a bit of a scoundrel. Yet in the end, when Ashley was within her reach, she realized that she didn’t actually want him. She threw away what she truly wanted to get what she thought she preferred. Her affections were false. True, this is a fictional story, but it is one that has endured because of the kernel of truth in the relationships of its characters. Three paragraphs after your statement on falsity of affections you note that natural impulses have often led you to choose vice over virtue; this is most certainly true. If you had applied this principle to affections and will, I doubt you would have drawn the same conclusion.
The other Meditation with which I have problems is the fourth, “Of the True and the False.” I know that belief in the Devil has been out of fashion for quite some time, particularly among the intellectual elite. I happen to believe in him (though I don’t insist on his personification). In any case, I would argue that evil does exist, and there is a great deal more of it in the world than can be explained by “a certain negative idea of nothing.” An error may be regarded as “simply a defect” to be sure, and many evils in the world are caused by ignorance or lack of knowledge, but not all or even most. If the only people who committed murder or theft were those who did not know that it was wrong, who did not recognize life and honest work as “true and good,” our prisons would be far emptier than they are. Even granting that they may not perceive what is true and good with as much clearness and distinctness as one might wish, it does not take a moral or intellectual genius to realize that murder and stealing are wrong. This does not prevent people from committing those crimes anyway.
You further argue that “it is a greater perfection in the whole universe that certain parts should not be exempt from error as others are than that all parts should be exactly similar.” It’s a good argument, and I would say that it holds up when the errors involved are relatively minor, the sort generally found in day-to-day life. When one holds this same argument up against greater “errors,” such as the various genocides, attempted genocides, and jihads of the Twentieth Century, it becomes less convincing. Those are not errors. Those are evil. If I believed that God allowed such horrors to happen simply because the universe would be more interesting if it were not all the same, I would refuse to worship him. If, however, one admits to the possibility of evil as greater than simply the absence of good, these problems become much easier to deal with.
The next part of this argument is that “every clear and distinct conception is without doubt something, and hence cannot derive its origin from what is nought, but must of necessity have God as its author.” This is the case only if one limits “clear and distinct conception” to good, moral ideas. “Good” people are not the only ones capable of clear and intelligent thinking; the world would be a much safer place if this were not so, but it is. For example, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics had an official ideology that was clear and distinct and based on a work that (despite its severe problems in practical application) has some logic to it and was based on a desire for justice and equality, two ideals that are certainly good when taken in the abstract. The USSR used its clear and distinct official ideology to create and maintain one of the most oppressive totalitarian regimes in modern history. I commend your efforts in this Meditation, but I’m afraid that when one applies the principles you develop in it to the real world, they are less than useful at best.
I’ve concentrated in this letter on the things I disagree with in your work. This is not because I don’t like or value it, but because those areas of it which I think are good (particularly the first two Meditations) are very good indeed, and I find myself with little useful to say except thank you for such a fascinating journey through the mind.
Cordially,
Beatrice Otter
