J’Accuse! Dissecting an accusatory comment

I don’t get much time these days to reply to comments as I once did. I used to greatly enjoy responding to comments on MercatorNet, and still miss the discussions and debates.

But ultimately I think my replies were solipsistic. I tried to resist the urge to reply snappily or angrily to insolent or sarcastic replies. I rarely indulged the desire to mock someone for their half-arsed arguments or complete misunderstandings of the issue at hand.  Instead I viewed the comment as an opportunity to check and correct myself, as though I were posing it as a challenge to my own reasoning and beliefs.

Solipsism isn’t always a bad thing. Unfortunately, there are diminishing returns on even the most charitable approach to argument. We must, I think, proceed with the assumption that the commenter will get nothing from the exchange. Only then can we respond freely.

In that vein, reader ayametan posted the following comment in response to my article on religious perspectives on lust:

The consequences of a “lustful” (i.e. natural) life are usually far less than the consequences of not having sex (and here I include mastubation) at all, such as stress, pent-up frustration, boredom, etc., and it removes an outlet for stress.

Sex also plays a crucial bonding role for many couples.

Zac, I find it the epitome of hypocrisy to claim that people who enjoy sex are hedonistic, especially when you work for a Catholic website, and beleive that those of your religion will receive eternal paradise. Nothing I can imagine could be more hedonistic.

Firstly, apologies to ayametan for replying to your comment indirectly. By way of direct reply, it’s clear we disagree on a great deal. Any further elaborations would be contained in the following observations.

The disconsolate reality is that once we adopt an appropriately detached attitude, far too many such comments begin to feel like answers to a question that was never asked. This is not so much a critique of the commenter, but an observation of my own detached response to such comments.

Take the first line for example:

The consequences of a “lustful” (i.e. natural) life are usually far less than the consequences of not having sex (and here I include mastubation) at all, such as stress, pent-up frustration, boredom, etc., and it removes an outlet for stress.

Firstly, I am not a consequentialist. Telling me that the consequences of A are worse than the consequences of B leaves as much unanswered as telling me that I should follow football because it is better than cricket, when really I am uninterested in sport generally.

Therefore we have to ask:

1. Are consequences the only relevant or most relevant factor?

Secondly, I know enough about consequentialism to know that the evaluation of consequences is a vexed question, not only in terms of where to draw the line, but also in terms of how to weigh the relative consequences. It is not self-evident that consequences such as boredom outweigh consequences such as prostitution, for example, but this in turn refers us back to where we draw the line.

Therefore we have to ask:

2.i Where do we draw the line between direct and indirect consequences?

2.ii How do we weight the relative consequences?

Thirdly, the commenter implies an equivalence between the terms “lustful” and “natural”. What is meant by these terms? Do we agree on the definition of either term? Is there an implication that “natural” lends normative weight to the exercise of lust?

Therefore we have to ask:

3. How do we define our key terms? Do we agree on the terms we are using?

Moving on to the next line:

Sex also plays a crucial bonding role for many couples.

I might agree with this, but looking at it critically we have to ask more questions.

4. What is the relationship between sex and lust?

Question 4 is clearly dependent on the answer to question 3.  Question 5 could, if pursued, take us deeper into the various religious systems touched on in my original article:

5. How does bonding relate to the spiritual disciplines contained in the various religions?

I would also envisage question 5 examining in greater depth how these religions deal with the overlap between lust and sex, and how this unfolds through their broader sexual morality.

Moving on to the final paragraph:

Zac, I find it the epitome of hypocrisy to claim that people who enjoy sex are hedonistic, especially when you work for a Catholic website, and beleive that those of your religion will receive eternal paradise. Nothing I can imagine could be more hedonistic.

My first thought is:

6. What is hypocrisy? Does this scenario match actual definitions of hypocrisy?

Followed by:

7. Is this scenario accurate? Does it match my experience and circumstances? Is this a fair accusation?

And then we’re back into the more philosophical domain, which overlaps somewhat with questions 6 and 7, but also with question 3 and maybe others:

8. Am I claiming that enjoyment of sex is hedonistic?

Clearly this question requires answers to question 3 regarding the definition of terms, including now hedonism, as well as question 4 regarding the relationship between sex and lust. We could in fact turn this whole question into a separate subcategory beginning with 8.a. What is hedonism? This would actually be quite pertinent given the concluding assertion:

Nothing I can imagine could be more hedonistic.

The commenter’s accusation that the desire for eternal paradise amounts to hedonism is by no means novel. It is better known in the context of psychological egoism: the claim that all actions, including supposedly altruistic ones, are ultimately selfish. The standard example given in undergrad philosophy courses is that Mother Theresa was not truly selfless, but acted selfishly on the belief that helping others would earn her a heavenly reward.

The accusation is not usually crafted around hedonism, as hedonism is typically described as the belief in pleasure as the only, or primary good, and there is debate over to what degree this belief would facilitate or be compatible with long-term delay of gratification, or with the allegedly hedonistic endorsement of non-hedonistic moral standards.

But as the philosophy teachers will explain, the bigger problem with defining all action as selfish is that it diminishes the descriptive power of the concept itself.  Clearly there are meaningful differences in behaviour for which the terms “selfish” and “selfless” have arisen. It’s all very well to argue that “selfless” is an empty category, but that doesn’t negate the distinction between acts for which those two terms first arose.

If we were to pursue this further, it would lead us to the question:

Q. What do we mean when we say that an action is selfish?

That’s a lot of questions contained within one brief comment. To be fair, my article also left many questions unanswered. But for me it is important that an article be the product of my own best attempts to ask and answer the right questions for myself. Too often, I find that commenters seem to have done little of this work for themselves before attempting a critique.

I think many people comment without realising the questions implicit in their opinions, accusations, and conjectures. It is rare to find someone sincerely asking questions that can be answered, because those who are sincere are either capable of finding the answers for themselves, or else, perhaps, they are more justifiably preoccupied by their own questions and interests.

If nothing else, I think philosophy can give us an appreciation for the immense difficulty of knowing. Confucius put it well:

“When you know a thing, to hold that you know it, and when you do not know a thing, to allow that you do not know it – this is knowledge.”

 

 

 

I’m moving to Finland, to be with my people

Comments on my latest MercatorNet piece have been surprisingly supportive of the whole ‘white genocide’ idea.

For example, a reader calling itself “Time to think” writes:

Africa is still for the Africans and Asia is still for the Asians, but white countries are for everybody. Only white countries are going it, only white children are affected by it, it is indeed genocide. WHITE GENOCIDE. Go and look up the laws for the definition of genocide and you will see that this is true.
Even if the idea of white privilege were true, how does it justify genocide? And this is not only happening in Australia. It is happening in UK, France, Germany, USA and all other white countries. Just research Sweden. Every multicultural position places us in a world with no white people in it. In your opinion white identity is racist, you are only say that to whites, anti racist is code word for anti white.

To which I replied:

Genocide is:

“…any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life
calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

— Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, Article 2”

Okay, I looked up the definition, still not impressed.

You say it’s happening in “all other white countries”. Is Finland not ‘white’? As of 2013 it was still 89.33% Finnish. What about Lithuania: it’s 84.2% Lithuanian as of 2011. Is that enough? How about Estonia: oh wait, it’s only 69.7% Estonian! Genocide! No, wait, 25.2% are Russians…
Maybe they complain about Estonian Genocide in Estonia? I wish I knew, but I don’t know how to say ‘genocide’ in Estonian, because despite being members of the one glorious white race, we are completely different ethnic and linguistic groups.

Perhaps you could come up with a new slogan other than ‘white genocide’ which on the one hand includes all the nations where you think white genocide is happening, but at the same time excludes those nations where it isn’t happening? Then it might be an accurate label rather than an incendiary polemic tool.

It is indeed time to think. Whenever you’re ready….

Head over and enjoy the careful and reasoned debate in its full glory:
http://www.mercatornet.com/articles/view/white_identity_in_a_multicultural_world

Arguing on the internet

I spend a fair bit of time in comments defending my articles, explaining my meaning in greater length, and thanking people for sincere and thoughtful contributions.

Actually, I spend a lot of time, but it’s rewarding.  I get to see what people think, challenge them, defend myself, learn from them, and sometimes engage in the most interesting conversations.

One of the lessons I learned early on was that there are plenty of people who appear to be after the truth, but who are in fact just looking for a fight.  They use the language of philosophy and argumentation, but really they are only interested in winning.

Thanks to a recent lecture on Plato’s dialogues, I learned that this approach is called ‘Eristic’.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica:

eristic, (from Greek eristikos, “fond of wrangling”), argumentation that makes successful disputation an end in itself rather than a means of approaching truth. Such argumentation reduces philosophical inquiry to a rhetorical exercise. Eristic argument is closely associated with the Sophists and was ridiculed by Plato in his dialogue Euthydemus. The term is often used more broadly to characterize arguments that rely on subtle but specious forms of reasoning.

I’ll leave you with an abridged version of my latest comment on my MercatorNet article

 

You shouldn’t apologise for leading someone to the truth.

The quality of internet debate is generally quite low, so you’ll have to forgive me for not taking you up on these points sooner, and allowing instead a more casual discourse. Personally, I find it embarrassing to be wrong, and so I try to read and reread carefully my own and others’ points before invoking logical fallacies and telling people explicitly that they’re probably wrong.

If I may offer some strategic advice: you’re at a disadvantage in picking an argument over a line made in passing in an article that was not explicitly the subject of the whole article, because the author (me) knows much better than the reader what he actually meant by that statement, and readers must either draw out a great deal more information, or risk making rash assumptions about the intended meaning.

After all, my initial line in the article was so ambiguous that picking it out as worthy of sustained debate suggests to me (as author) that either a) I’ve unwittingly committed some horrendous faux pas, or b) the commenter has an axe to grind, or is simply looking for a fight, such that he is willing to engage on the mere possibility that my line made in passing might uncover a hidden trove of bad thinking and hidden fallacies.

In tandem with this advice, might I suggest more generally that you practice the principle of charity in argumentative discourse? That is, err on the side of giving your interlocutor the benefit of the doubt by interpreting his arguments in their strongest possible light. Not only does this save oneself the embarrassment of being overly rash in error, it also trains oneself to find the strongest arguments in any context, and thereby strengthens one’s own position as well.

Otherwise, one might come across as a proponent of Eristic argument.