Nashville Great Books Discussion Group
A reader's group devoted to the discussion of meaningful books.
Monday, September 28, 2015
Last
week Claude Bernard explained how we use the tools of observation and
experiment to evaluate physical phenomena. What tools can we use to evaluate
literature? Flannery O’Connor probably
put it best. “When anybody asks what a
story is about, the only proper thing is to tell them to read the story. The meaning of fiction is not abstract
meaning but experienced meaning, and the purpose of making statements about the
meaning of a story is only to help you to experience that meaning more
fully.” If we want to know what a story
is “about” we have to read the story and experience it ourselves. Bernard said in order to be scientific “the observer’s
mind must be passive.” It’s impossible
to read Flannery O’Connor’s short story with a passive mind. What is this story about? An ungrateful son? Racism?
Many different interpretations are possible because Flannery O’Connor is
a very good writer. Here are a couple of
examples how she uses literature to flesh out her themes and makes them come
alive for our reading experience.
The
theme of the ungrateful son. Consider
this sentence. “Julian did not like to
consider all she did for him…” Why not? Isn’t he grateful for his mother’s
sacrifices? “Everything that gave her
pleasure was small and depressed him.”
Why does Julian get depressed when his mother finds contentment in the
simple joys of life? “It occurred to him
that it was he, not she, who could have appreciated (the old mansion she grew
up in)…all the neighborhoods they had lived in had been a torment to him;
whereas she had hardly known the difference.”
Whether she lived in a mansion or in a run-down neighborhood it was all
the same to her. Why did this irritate
Julian? According to him “she lived
according to the laws of her own fantasy world, outside of which he had never
seen her set foot.” He believed she
lived contentedly in her own “fantasy world” while his own world of reality was
bleak and lonely. But what really irked
him about his mom was “the dwarf-like proportions of her moral nature.” In Julian’s eyes she was an outright
racist. She was just too dumb to realize
it. He, on the other hand, had been to
college and was enlightened about the new racial landscape. This is a pretty good picture of an ungrateful
son.
The
theme of racism. Julian’s mom viewed the
world through her own prism. Instead of
breaking light down into a few colors her own personal prism broke life down into
a few classes of people. Here’s how her
prism worked: “…if you know who you are, you can go anywhere.” (She said this every time he took her to the
YMCA reducing class.) “Most of them in
it are not our kind of people,” she said, “but I can be gracious to
anybody. I know who I am.” When she uses the phrase “not our kind of
people” she’s not talking about black people. She’s talking about other white folks in her
YMCA class. She can be gracious to them
because that’s what people from her background do. They act graciously toward their inferiors. When she says “I know who I am” she’s really
saying I know my place in society; I know how I should live. And Julian’s mom applies this same equal
opportunity cultural prism to everyone, regardless of race. She says “I remember the old darky who was my
nurse, Caroline. There was no better
person in the world. I’ve always had a
great respect for my colored friends.”
This is the kind of talk that makes Julian cringe. But what about his own enlightened attitude? The story tells us “he had never been
successful at making any Negro friends.”
Why not? Julian wants to make
friends with black people because they’re black; and to get back at his
mother. Julian’s mother wants to make
friends with black people because they’re people; and because she likes
them. Her racism is a mile wide but it’s
only an inch deep. Of course that’s just
one personal observation. Other readers
may make different observations. Claude
Bernard’s method is scientific: observation and experiment. Flannery O’Connor’s method is literary: observation
and experience.
Friday, September 18, 2015
BERNARD: Observation and Experiment (for Non-Scientists)
In
last week’s reading Tocqueville outlined how it was entirely possible (and even
probable) that a new aristocracy would arise in America out of “the bosom of
democracy.” Two hundred years later he
might revise his theory and show how modern American “aristocracy” is driven more
by science and (new) technology rather than the old aristocratic standards
based on land and/or manufacturing. In
this week’s reading we meet another Frenchman from the 19th century,
Claude Bernard. He’s very different from
Tocqueville. Bernard isn’t interested in
culture and how politics works. He’s
interested in science and how Nature works. Professional scientists may understand exactly
what Bernard is talking about. Many of
us non-scientists will struggle with it.
After reading this selection on Observation and Experiment we may come
away with more questions than answers.
We might begin with a simple question.
What is the purpose of science?
Then we might make a stab at a couple of simple answers. The purpose of science is to understand
Nature as it really is, on its own terms.
But how can we understand Nature on its own terms? We can only understand things on human
terms. Ok, then how about this: the
purpose of science is to express Nature in a system we can understand. That sounds fine but leads to a troubling
conclusion. What we know then is a
system we’ve developed ourselves. How do
we know the system accurately reflects Nature and not the nature of our own
minds?
Maybe
Bernard can help us figure it out. He
says there are “two classes of conditions” called ideas and facts. That’s fine.
But what does he mean by that? What’s
the difference between an idea and a fact?
And how do we distinguish between them?
Is gravity an idea or is it a fact?
What about evolution? The theory
of relativity? Bernard says we need “two
qualities of mind” to answer questions scientifically. One quality of mind is that of observer. Bernard says “the observer’s mind must be
passive, that is, must hold its peace; it listens to nature and writes at
nature’s dictation.” That sounds easy
enough. But will two people observing
the same phenomena necessarily “see” the same thing? Compare two accounts of a presidential
debate. Obviously we need a standard method
and language if we plan to study Nature; so we need to add another quality of
mind. Bernard calls this quality of mind
“experimenter” and goes on to explain that “an experimenter’s mind must be
active.” But this presents another
problem. How do we know all this human activity
won’t distort the phenomena we’re trying to study?
Let’s
assume the observer’s report is accurate and the experimenter’s method gives us
a true reflection of Nature. Then
what? Bernard says “as soon as Nature
speaks, we must hold our peace; we must note her answer, hear her out and in
every case accept her decision.” Now
another question pops up. Why? Do we have to accept Nature’s “decision” as
final or can we bend it to serve our own human needs? And the questions keep on coming. Bernard says “it is the scientific
investigator’s (experimenter’s) mind that acts; it is the senses that observe
and note.” For the purposes of science,
which is more important: the mind or the senses? Bernard says we need both but goes on to make
a curious statement: “we must give free rein to our imagination.” Hm.
What is the role of “imagination” in science? Is this the same kind of imagination we bring
to poetry and drama? Would this kind of
imagination work just as well in another field of study, such as mathematics? What about history? Science is different from literature and
mathematics and history. It has
different aims and uses different methods.
Bernard says scientific “hypotheses, unverified or unverifiable by
experiment, would engender nothing but systems and would bring us back to
scholasticism.” But what is science itself
if not a system? And what’s wrong with
scholasticism? So many questions in such
a few pages.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
The Future of Human Labor
Regarding the quote by President Coolidge, I think he was
mostly right. I think the "business of America" is what most people
do to earn a living. But earning a living is not the same thing as the abstract
pursuit of wealth. Earning a living is how people pay their bills, which
consists primarily in feeding themselves, finding shelter and acquiring the
things necessary for a normal life. Anything beyond the basic necessities for
life is often considered a luxury. But most
people (certainly most Americans) are not content with the bare necessities for
existence. They want a higher level of comfort in their lives. Over time, as
our economy has grown, our "pursuit of happiness" became associated (perhaps
mistakenly) with a desire for physical comfort, i.e., leisure. Is comfort the
same thing as luxury? Well, it can be. It all depends on how much comfort you feel
you need in your life. The industrial revolution made possible the creation of
wealth on a larger scale which made some people rich, while giving many other
people the ability to acquire things which made life more pleasant, such as
washing machines, televisions and cars.
Adam Smith talked about the social organization of labor.
Thanks to the industrial revolution and its compartmentalization of labor, the
factory became a more efficient system for producing goods than the old pre-industrial
arrangement based on individual craftsmanship. With machines, you no longer
needed skilled labor to do many of the jobs which could now be done faster
through automation. Unfortunately, we learned that repetitive behavior and
treating people like machines leads to boredom and the loss of pride in one's
work. This results in higher absenteeism in the workplace. Today, many employees
no longer feel any loyalty to their work or their employer because they know
that they can be easily replaced by other non-skilled workers. This results in
a downward spiral of low self-esteem, absenteeism and a steady decline in quality
control. This trend was famously exposed in the American auto industry in the
70s when Japan started bringing its cars into the American market. Japanese
cars demonstrated a higher level of quality for less money than American cars.
Within 10 or 15 years, Japanese cars dominated the American market. Some of
this can be explained by saying that the price of labor was cheaper in Japan.
But the Japanese also proved to be more innovative in their systems management.
The relationship between employer and employee is completely different over
there.
Monday, September 14, 2015
TOCQUEVILLE: How an Aristocracy May Be Created by Industry
In
this week’s reading Tocqueville begins by stating “I have shown how democracy
favors the development of industry (by multiplying without limit the number of
those engaged therein).” Does
this mean democracy (American style) is primarily an economic system or a
political model? President Calvin
Coolidge once said the business of America is business. Was he right?
Or is the “business” of America
to build a democratic form of government?
Tocqueville was interested in what the industrial revolution was doing
to society. He wrote “the man is
degraded as the workman improves.”
Factories were taking the place of farms and family-owned shops. Factory work is repetitive. Tocqueville thought
it stunted a worker’s human potential. But
farming and small retail shops take lots and lots of work hours. What if factory jobs significantly reduced the
number of hours needed to earn a living?
Couldn’t factory workers use those extra leisure hours to expand their
human potential? By reading Great Books
for example? That was the original
vision of the Great Books program. They
envisioned factory workers and other ordinary people reading and discussing the
classics in Great Books groups across the country in libraries and homes. Tocqueville might respond, in a good way: only
in America.
But
he seemed less approving of America’s industrial policies. He said, “An industrial theory stronger than
morality or law ties a worker to a trade, and often to a place, which he cannot
leave.” Is that true today? In a rapidly changing economy American workers
may have the opposite problem. They’re often
forced to change jobs or careers and move to another city to find work. Of course “morality” can also tie workers down. A man may feel obligated to take over his
father’s business. Or he may choose to
stay in his hometown at a lower paying job because that’s where his family has
lived for generations. These aren’t the kind
of people Tocqueville has in mind. Those
poor Russian dock workers in our last reading (Chelkash) were stuck. There was no other work they could do and
they had nowhere else to go. These were
the workers he was talking about. What
should we do about people on the bottom rungs of society?
That
problem is still with us today.
Tocqueville says “at the same time industrial science constantly lowers
the standing of the working class, it raises that of the masters.” Today we call it income inequality. Economists still ponder questions such as
these. In what way does “industrial
science” lower the standing of the working class? Does it seem reasonable that all classes would
benefit from increased production and wealth?
Who’s going to buy all those extra goods and services our economy
produces? Tocqueville’s main point was
this. “It would thus appear, tracing
things back to their source, that a natural impulse is throwing up an
aristocracy out of the bosom of democracy.”
This is an interesting observation and leads to an interesting
question. Which is more “natural” to the
human condition: aristocracy or democracy?
If the answer is aristocracy then the American experiment in government
will naturally find its way back to the more normal human condition of an
aristocratic society. Or it may be that
there is no “natural” form of government.
Democracy may work for some people in some times and places but not for
other people in other times and places.
Tocqueville seems to take this view when he writes “the more I see this
country (America) the more I admit myself penetrated with this truth: there is
nothing absolute in the theoretical value of political institutions, their
efficiency depends almost always on the original circumstances and the social
condition of the people to whom they are applied.” Political institutions that work in America
may not work somewhere else. And our original
question remains. Is the primary business
of America business or is it government?
Two hundred years after Tocqueville we’re still working it out.
Tuesday, September 08, 2015
GORKY: Chelkash (Virtue and Freedom)
In
our last reading Adam Smith (Intro GB1) claimed “the propensity to truck,
barter, and exchange one thing for another… is common to all men, and to be
found in no other race of animals.” This
tendency is deeply ingrained. Whether we
live in Scotland or America or Russia it’s common for people to ask what we do
for a living. In this Russian story by Gorky
a young country bumpkin named Gavrilla drifts into a port city and meets a
streetwise older man named Chelkash. Gavrilla
asks, “‘What are you, a cobbler, or a tailor, or what?’ ‘Me?’ Chelkash mused awhile and then said:
‘I’m a fisherman.’” Chelkash is not, in
fact, a fisherman. He has another
occupation. Human beings may have an inclination
to “truck, barter, and exchange” goods and services. But some human beings have a strong inclination
to engage in another occupation: stealing (which gives a special twist to the
term “free market”). Chelkash is a professional
thief. And he’s a very good one. Two questions come to mind for this story. Can a thief be a virtuous man? Do we choose our occupations and lifestyles or
do they choose us?
Let’s
consider the social and economic conditions these two characters lived in. “‘Here’s what I’m up against,’ (said Gavrilla).
‘My father died without leaving anything much, my mother’s old, the land’s
sucked dry. What am I supposed to
do? I’ve got to go on living, but how?’” Most young men at some point walk in Gavrilla’s
shoes and ask the same question. What am
I supposed to do? How am I going to earn
a living? These are important questions
because the answers determine the options for navigating through life. A person’s occupation isn’t the only factor in
living a good life but it’s an extremely important one. In Adam Smith’s mind a philosopher isn’t much
different (considered strictly as a human being) from a “common street porter.” But a man who teaches Plato and Aristotle at
a university surely has more options than a man who loads and unloads luggage
for a living. What options does Gavrilla
have in this story? He can load and
unload freight on the docks; which is hard work for low wages. Or he can become a thief like Chelkash;
dangerous work for high wages. Or he can
go back home.
What
should Gavrilla do? Could Great Books help
him? Here are three samples from earlier
readings. William James (Intro GB1) wrote
“A man’s fame, good or bad, and his honor or dishonor are names for one of his
social selves… What may be called ‘club-opinion’ is one of the very strongest
forces in life. The thief must not steal
from other thieves.” This would have
been useful information for Gavrilla after a heist. It’s ok for Chelkash to steal from other
people; but it’s not ok for Gavrilla to steal from Chelkash. Socrates would have a field day with this
notion of honor among thieves. He would
ask what kind of virtue is this. In The
Republic (GB5) he said most people want more than they really need and that’s
when a small community with simple needs starts running into trouble. What does Gavrilla really need? Adam Smith (Intro GB1) gave this formula for
people to get the things they really do need: “you give me that which I want
and I’ll give you this which you want.” The
trouble begins when that simple formula is changed to a worse one: give me
that which I want or I’ll either take it
from you or kill you. The Athenians used
this tactic to get what they wanted from the Melians (Intro GB1).
Short
summary. A young man comes to town looking
to improve the limited “social self” options he had back home on the farm. In town has a chance to make money; big
money. He can get rich. But to get it he has to abandon his core values
and his good and simple life. He'll never be the same and he’ll never be able to go back
“home” again. Is it worth it? No one can answer that question but Gavrilla;
not even Great Books can tell Gavrilla what kind of man he is.