Epistemological Relativism

So, I went to see 300, again; this time in IMAX. I had two reasons for going. The first is obvious for anyone who has seen the movie. It is a great graphic novel to film adaptation. The stylized cinematography is incredible and fits the character of the novel. But I won’t be discussing this reason here. The second reason I was inclined to see it again is because I continue to hear complaints from the Persian community that this film misrepresents, distorts, caricatures and otherwise tramples upon Persian history and culture. With this second reason in mind, I attempted to watch the film through Persian lenses. I hoped that I might detect within the film the reasons why many are disturbed, angry and upset at this film. In short, I did manage to see what may be offensive to the Persians. I could, of course, be totally wrong. In any event, it was an excellent experiment in attempting to be objective and to step outside one’s own societal and cultural context.

Some of the popular complaints that I hear are that the Persians within the movie are ugly, demonic and utterly fantastic. This, so the argument goes, portrays the Persians of that period as monsters to the viewers. Somehow this picture of fifth century Persians will jump across time and space and cause people today to view modern-day Persians in the same light. Now, whether this is what will happen is difficult to say. All I can offer is my assessment.

In the film there are Persian Immortals and an “uber” Immortal that are by all accounts rather unpleasing to look at. Nevermind the fact that their appearance doesn’t quite match the description given by Herodotus, but I digress. And nevermind the fact that Herodotus may have indeed fallen victim to what I am about to describe, but I digress again. These guys are ugly. Just take my word for it. If I were a Persian and this elite military unit were portrayed in this way I too would be a bit perturbed.

But, think about this for a moment. Think about the Immortals from the perspective of those who had or would very soon be engaged in battle with these military elites. They were a unit who seemingly never died. We know that any member of this unit who was killed or injured would immediately be replaced by another highly skilled warrior. Their ability in battle was perhaps legendary even in that time. Their equipment, however inferior to the Greek’s of that period, was still impressive. Those that had faced the Immortals and lived perhaps told tall tales of their encounter. Word spread and soon there were fantastic accounts of this elite fighting force. From the eyes of a Greek, would they not have thought these things? Would they not have told similar stories?

The Immortals within the film 300 are nothing more than projections or personifications of the Greeks. Instead of the standard Persian Immortal of history (if we can really know who that was, but I digress again) we have a picture on screen of the Immortials within the minds of the Greeks during that period. It is not terribly original, but it does make for an interesting movie when what is in the minds of an opposing army confronts them in the flesh. All the tales of these Immortals were conflations of a imaginative warrior. So, instead of being perturbed, I would, as a Persian, be proud that the battlefield skills of he Immortals where the cause of terror, dread and renown. Maybe this is not something that a Persian today would be proud of? I don’t know, but Immortals were the type of force that would instill these strong emotions in the enemy. And they did this because they proved it.

This explanation settled it for me, but I am not Persian. This is both good and bad. Perhaps because I am not Persian I can be a bit more objective in the assessment. But, because I am not Persian, I cannot see other dimensions of this insult. In the end, I am convinced. This explanation is useful for the character Xerxes in the film as well. Approaching the Persians in the film from the eyes of a conquered nation or one that has experienced their might in battle may be illuminating for the Persians out there.

This leaves only one more general consideration. There is also complaints that the Persians are vilified in the film. On all levels, some claim, the Persians are represented as unsophisticated, conquering savages with no sense of culture, honor and decency. This is quite a bit to extract from a film inspired by a comic book as imagined by its author, but let’s try to sort it out. I think I’ve dealt sufficiently with the savages part above. For the other attributes, I would argue that the Battle of Thermoplyae and stories about it, does not have as its goal the enumeration of all the Persian achievements of the period. Instead, it attempts to communicate a battle between a group of relatively sovereign states and a foreign power intent on acquiring more. I won’t bother to stir the pot and discuss what this nebulous more is. The point is made, I think, without that.

So, if this is true, why are some still upset? It is the romantic in all of us. We all look back fondly at the cultures we are a part of. We praise all of the incredible social, economic and technological advances. The Persians accomplished a great deal in all of these areas. That is without question. What many fail to realize, and this may be where perspective will help illuminate, is that the Persian empire of that period conquered many nations. To presume that fifth century Persia simply annexed territories for itself by mutually beneficial treaties offered at the hand of a benevolent ruler is pure fantasy. Sure, there are cases where the conquered territories were treated with some level of dignity and respect, but what about the others? Look at the history. This period of time was a tumult of violence and, unfortunately, Persia was not immune. The survival of a nation required it. In the final analysis, many failed to remember the complete legacy of the Persian Empire of this period. And no matter how romantically we may look back at the Persian culture in the fifth century, to say nothing of whether it is justified or not, we are confronted with the simple fact that the Persian army traveled across the Mediterranean with the intent to draw the Greeks by forceful coercion into submission and subservience to the Persian Empire. If this is offensive I am sorry, but these are the facts as we know them.

So ends my analysis of the film 300 and the response of the Persian community. Many may still be unconvinced by my brief sketch, but I encourage all to look back at history and while doing so look at it from beyond our respective cultural context. If this is done, I believe that my arguments will not be seen as the opinion of a confused western movie-goer.

After a good conversation with some friends the other day I realized that we have a habit of rejecting arguments from someone who does not possess some set of qualiications. Sometimes these qualifications are education, sometimes they are a certain set of experiences. At other times we reject the arguments for reasons not at all related to the subject. Instead we reject the argument because we don’t share the person’s habits, way of thinking or way of living. This type of thinking or lack thereof can best be captured by the Genetic Fallacy. The Genetic Fallacy “is committed when an idea is either accepted or rejected because of its source, rather than its merit.”

How often do we reject outright an argument from someone who we consider not up to the task? How about finding flaws in someone when they give us an opinion which we don’t particularly like without really considering whether it is true or valid? Watch yourself today, see how often you fall victim to this fallacy. It is important, I think, because the more we fall victim to this the more our minds become closed to alternate views, new ways of thinking and most importantly of all correction of our erroneous views. It this effect we should fear above all others.

Genuine truths of faith are never in conflict with logic or with the sciences; they conflict only with the rationalistic or positivistic metaphysics, that is, with a reason that arrogates to itself the right to define the whole range of truth from the standpoint of man.

- Emil Brunner, Revelation and Reason (The Westminster Press, 1946) 213.

Tolerance is a humane attitude, which respects the personality of the other, but it has nothing to do with the truth or falsity of ther “other’s” opinions and ideas.

- Emil Brunner, Revelation and Reason (The Westminster Press, 1946) 219.

That which can be based on rational grounds is, by its very nature, not revelation but rational truth. The truth of reason is that which we as rational beings can tell ourselves; the truth of revelation is that which, by its very nature, we could not tell ourselves, which by its very nature is truth that has been communicated, and indeed is transcedent, communicated truth. Anything a human being can verify or deduce for himself by any process of argument, investigation, or proof, cannot possibly be revelation, and, vice versa, that which is revelation cannot be verified by any such process.

- Emil Brunner, Revelation and Reason (The Westminster Press, 1946) 207.

Let the games begin! Now, I’m not sure I agree with all that Brunner has to say here, but he does give some food for thought. I don’t particularly relish the idea of moving theology into Schaeffer’s “upper story”, but at the same time, this is almost the defintion of real theology isn’t it? Of course, some out there will wonder about competing revelatory claims and such. My answer is that I haven’t finished the book yet.

Moral values are interesting creatures. This is especially so when we see people having lively discussions regarding them. Most people believe that moral values are derived from convention, society or some other utilitarian sources. But, if they are derived from these sources, the only discussions we can have regarding them is whether we prefer one or the other. Yet, ironically, this is far from what people have in mind when they have this sort of discussion. They intend to demonstrate by the volume of their voice or their well-intentioned reasons that some or all of their moral values are right and the other person’s are wrong.

If moral values do come from convention, society or some other utilitarian source they can’t truly be wrong can they? What does wrong actually mean in this context? Well, wrong in the classical sense usually means we’ve erred or are mistaken. However, if moral values actually derive from the sources above then it follows that there will be a plurality of conventions, societal mandates and so on. If this is the case how can we really say that some are wrong? Instead all we’re really saying is that we don’t particularly prefer “their” moral values. But this is like criticizing someone’s preference in cars and hair color (hi Keith!). It becomes almost pointless. The truth is, we don’t actually mean this when discussing moral values.

In order to use the term wrong appropriately we must have some measurement that is more fixed than “what works” or “what society tells us”. But placing moral values on something as unstable and dynamic as utility and society forces us to either drop this serious conversation or else consider alternatives to our theories of where moral values ultimately derive. Ground moral values on these changing conditions makes conversations about competing moral values pointless if not meaningless. Pointless because there isn’t much point in convincing me that my taste in ice cream is wrong. Meaningless because moral values based on the above criteria are incapable of being wrong or right, much less true or false. This is only the tip of a large iceberg.

While driving home and flipping through the radio station I heard a program that was dicussing the recent decisions by congress aimed at getting our troops home. I was amazed by the announcer and the callers. The announcer claimed that if we stop the war we will eventually be fighting “them” on our soil. Others called in and said that if we left, other more powerful regimes would move in a take control of the region. Yet others claimed that we cannot and should not stop the war against Al Qaeda. I was mortified at the lack or willingness to think carefully about the reality of the situation. I won’t debate about how we got into the war, because, quite honestly, that is water under the bridge. But, to pretend that we are there to “fight Al Qaeda” or prevent terrorist attacks through preemption is silly.

Iraq was under the control of a despotic regime. Nobody argues with that. What many miss is that because of this absolute rule Sadam was able to “unite” (read: suppress) all of the other groups and cultures within Iraq. There are Kurds with unique nationalistic views and there are Shiite and Sunni Muslims. And don’t think because I grouped the two together that they are similar. They diverge in the level of secularization, political outlook and, of course, the usual cultural differences. Even though they may have gotten along more peacefully in times past the recent history of abuses has led to a situation in which it is difficult for anyone to get along.

There is now a vacuum in the region. Groups are attempting to gain control of what they think is their’s or what they are entitled to. Can we really blame them? We removed a totalitarian regime, but we failed to consider what this would do in a region with several different groups of people. So now, we pretend that Iraq is just a big plot of land with a bunch of “islamo-fascists” that need to be taken out before they take us out. Let’s be real. Many (most?) are laying claim to what they think is rightfully theirs whether through political process or by force.

Instead of fighting the battles of all these groups perhaps we should figure out how to undo what we (in the past few years) and the Brits (after WWI) have done and make it right? This talk about fighting Al-Qaeda, preventing terrorists from attacking us here and other rhetoric is getting old. Haven’t we screwed up enough nations? Haven’t we learned from history and in particular British colonialism? Haven’t we learned that we get it wrong more often than not (Just take a look at the decisions of the League of Nations)?

I shouldn’t have to say this, but this isn’t “anti-war” in the broad sense, because I believe there is a place for war. I have had relatives, as most people have, serve this country with honor and distinction. But, to continue this particular effort under these false pretenses I think dishonors their courage and sacrifice. There are dozens of cases where military action was required (read: we were morally obligated to act) and has stopped the abuse of people at the hands of those with power. There are consequences even for these good and noble causes. In the case of Iraq, I don’t think we considered what would happen when the people, all the people, were freed from the regime. They are now free from the regime and its atrocities, but instead of living life like they were minus Saddam, they want something different.

Theological knowledge is no different than your everyday propositional knowledge. By this I mean it is no more certain. I know, this may sound shocking, but try to stay with me. It is not because somebody’s god made a mistake or two. This is not because there are flaws within a particular theistic framework. If anything there is a certain, ummm, certainty about this framework. Direct and unmediated revelatory information from the divine (if you believe in that sort of thing or even temporarily agree for the sake of argument) is hard to dispute. However, this isn’t what we’re talking about.

Most of the time we’re talking about some intermediate delivery system. I say intermediate precisely because the Christian bible, to use a relevant example although any holy book will do, was communicated, written and compiled by human authors. Sure, there are some examples of a direct divine communique to a faithful servant (the Ten Commandments are a good example), but most passages do not follow this pattern. Keep in mind that there are wide disagreements on just what sort of “divine influence” affected the original autographs (if there were such things, but let’s not chase that one for now). Even if we allow for any of these, there still remains a rather acute problem. The problem is that this information when communicated in this way is indirect.

At first glance this may seem to be a trivial difference. Looking back at my previous post on being objective you may be able to see what the implications are. In order to get at this information it isn’t simply a matter of automagically processing it and out come the results. You have to wade through not only your own time and place circumstances, but also that of the author’s. These texts, if we allow for the sake of argument that they are divine communications using a human intermediary, are fixed in time and place. This is so by the very definition of a human intermediary. They are constrained in their ability to communicate by their language, culture and experiences. This leads to some seemingly troubling results. Some portions of our theological truths when derived from these types of texts are not as certain as we like to think. I say some because, as always, we may happen to get lucky (even though we won’t actually *know* this in the epistemological sense).

People, as part of a religious community, and through faith or a priori beliefs know that their texts are god’s communication to mankind. Even allowing for this, we cannot easily overcome the challenge of the human author. This is a problem because within this type of framework some assume their holy texts are not merely the source of propositional knowledge, but the sure, certain and concrete kind of knowledge. The problem is we have to wade through the twofold human element (author and receiver). But, using this reasoning process to extract the most probable meaning (which I believe can be done using reason), however refined and systematized, unfortunately results in merely propositional knowledge. It must be said, that this is not to mean that it is not “good enough” or close enough. Because, for most endeavors, religious or otherwise, this is the type of knowledge we act upon day in and day out. However, we must realize this isn’t the certain and immutable kind of knowledge and many make that mistake.

There have been attempts that assert that certain holy texts have a simple, literal and plain meaning that is mysteriously not subject to the author/reader problem. But, we must ask where this presumption comes from. Is it a divine transmission sent to a select group? Obviously only some get this transmission and the subsequent simple meanings from the texts. Perhaps god is like the phone company’s service. Some people get the right message, others get parts and others get a completely garbled messaged. In the end, even if, as Barth claims, our knowledge of god is certain, how do we get from that knowledge to theological knowledge that isn’t merely propositional? We can’t. But, this is okay and yet causes a great deal of angst among many people. They want the certain and immutable type. Without question it is comforting and secure, but is it really possible or, better yet, necessary to live within the confines of a religious system?

Obviously this only scratches the surface and is incomplete or completely hopeless in certain parts, but I think it is worth reflecting on this and the implications of such a position.

I was having yet another interesting conversation about life’s most difficult or though-provoking questions. I won’t focus on those questions, but I did happen to use the phrase “It is a vexing question”. I’ve decided that I really like that word. I think it captures the essence of those types of questions. You know, the ones that you struggle to properly formulate and then seriously struggle with the possible answers. And I don’t just mean intellectually struggle either. I think “vexing” is one of those words that adds real depth and precision. I nominate it for my word of the week. You didn’t know I had a word of the week? Yeah, neither did I. As an aside, I would show you the etymology of vex, but I don’t have this yet.

EDIT: Here is the etymology of vex, although it is a bit incomplete.

It is quite a challenge to objectively assess information. Think about it (objectively) for a moment. What do we mean when we say that we’re being objective? Aren’t we saying, in essence, that we have this hope that our personal experiences and idealogies do not cast a glare upon the incoming information that may prevent an honest assessment and fair conclusions? However much hope we have, our personal experiences and idealogies do manage to creep into this process. Sometimes this is intentional and at other times it happens despite our best efforts. This is so, I believe, because these experiences and idealogies are what constitute or construct our presumptive framework or starting point. We don’t really have nor can we attain the ivory tower Baconian position that allows us to automagically and fairly assess information in a machine-like fashion. This is not to say that we cannot introduce methods that limit or curb the introduction of result-skewing presumptions, but it is by no means the silver bullet.

In the strictest sense can we really be objective? Our very existence is particular and not general. It is defined by experiences. These experiences, private and public, are particular and shape the way we view the world. When we make the being objective claim I think what we are aiming at is one of two things. The first is that we are attempting to suspend our personal way of organizing and processing information based on our personal experiences. The second is that we have some sort of methods that minimize the effects of experience that obscure objectivity. Which one are you?

I know this may sound a bit postmodern, but we all have a particular way of viewing the world. We all have a particular ways of handling and processing information. To presume that we can magically suspend all that we have been through, all that we hope for is sorely misguided. So how do we step outside ourselves when analyzing ideas, concepts and other forms of information? Well, we can’t. This is why being objective is a difficult task. Obviously we can have justifiable reasons for arriving at valid and consistent conclusions. Although it sounds almost impossible we can use reason and evidence to form propositional knowledge. But doubt still remains. This is okay and it is inescapable. Where it really causes problems, as always, is when we run to either pole. We either avoid the possibility of being objective altogether or falsely presume that we are being objective and certain when, in fact, we are neither objective nor certain. Obviously, this does not mean that there is no independent objective reality or that we can’t know it. Far from it. It is simply the case, as always that far too often we delude ourselves into thinking our conclusions are perfectly objective or, on the other side, we give up because there is apparently no hope for objectivity.