Dear Theo,
First, thank you for the opportunity to air my views, which, jejune as they may be, have been knocking around in the confines of my head for far too long. I began by dreading criticism, but now I feel that any criticism that can break or modify a way of thinking that threatens to become fixed and rigid should be welcomed. Ultimately its not so much what we think as our willingness to communicate that matters.
Having delivered this homily, I shall pass on to other matters.
In response to your remarks on my last contribution (C88, p.17): No, its not as cut and dried as religion or science, in what I take to be their basic stances, seem to imply, and presumably this is what both are coming to admit in their various rapprochements. The subject-object dichotomy that each relies on in its own way is the creation of human reflexive awareness. Once this is realised both religion and science can be put in their proper context.
I look forward to hearing the results of the question in New Scientist that you mention (C88, p.24): "When an animal looks in a mirror does it realise it is looking at itself? Which, if any, animals successfully make this connection?" Of course, this question has been looked into before by various researchers. My understanding of the position is that the apparent ability to recognise a reflected image has only been observed in humans and the "higher" apes. Of course "absence of evidence is not evidence of absence" but what has been observed is e.g. a male blackbird attacking its own reflection in a pane of glass, and injuring itself in the process, in the belief that it was confronted by another male of the species. This sort of thing seems consistently the case for all species, including monkeys. Only apes have a sufficient degree of neural complexity to permit recognition to arise. This is discussed in 'The Ape's Reflection' by Adrian Desmond (Blond & Briggs, London 1979). Even in humans the ability is not present from the start. On p.171 of that work the author states: "In the months before the self strengthens in a child he sees a mirror companion, and in the months when it disintegrates in a schizophrenic the person may stand and stare intently in the mirror, progressively losing all powers of self-recognition".
With reference to Rick Street's remarks (C88, p.19) I would point out that in my earlier contribution (C87, p.5) I used the term 'reflexive awareness' rather than 'self-awareness'. The latter term seems to imply that there is, prior to the advent of reflexive awareness (the realisation that the eye that is seen is the eye that is looking: which is more than just the "understanding of reflective surfaces", as Rick puts it), a self is ready and waiting to emerge into awareness. Indeed the above quote from Desmond indicates that the self must have a certain integrity before reflexive recognition can occur. I would argue, however, that the act of reflexive recognition actually constitutes the formation of a self. Prior thereto, the organism has no notion of itself as object, and therefore no notion of itself as subject either. It has no concept of itself as a discrete entity. An animal without reflexive awareness is not aware of 'its own' existence because it has nothing relevant to refer its awareness to: its awareness is wholly directed towards the fulfilment of 'its' needs (the maintenance of the homeostasis of the organism), consciousness being part of the organismic process whereby those needs are fulfilled. But they are not strictly speaking 'its' needs. They are not 'selfish'. They are integral to the totality of the environment of which that organism forms a part, and constitute part of the 'web of life'.
The birth of a self through the act of reflexive recognition involves a partial withdrawal from that totality, and a partial disidentification of the nascent self with its body. The self is caught in a quandary: that of the subject rendered object due to its subjection to bodily existence, and it may attempt to escape that quandary by denying that it is grounded in the body and in bodily existence generally, with the potentially disastrous consequences to the ecosphere that are becoming increasingly apparent.
Once the self is born all action and perception is referred to a subject because to an individual embarking on the subject-object dichotomy there is no other explanation for anything happening. It therefore seems to me that it is not quite the case that, as Anthony Owens puts it (C88, p.26) "gods and spirits were invented to fill the role of that which must be responsible for those events for which our ancestors could find no explanation". It is not a question of looking for explanations. The world is conceived initially in terms of the action of subjects visible and invisible. This is the 'participation mystique' of which I believe Mircea Eliade writes. The idea of an impersonal cause, or of any cause that will supply 'an explanation', is a relatively recent development. It is interesting to note that the first recorded use of the word 'fact', in the sense in which it is commonly used today (of something objectively established) dates, according to the Oxford Dictionary, from as late as 1632. A very interesting book in this context is 'Before Philosophy: The Intellectual Adventure of Ancient Man' by Henri Frankfort and others, Pelican Books 1949.
Those puzzled by all this might try resorting to 'On Having No Head' by Douglas Harding (although this might of course make their predicament worse). There is a certain mental trick or gesture whereby the perspective of an unselfconscious organism can be in part regained. Once it has, however fleetingly, the non-dichotomous ground of experience becomes evident.
Lastly, prompted by Dave Botting's contribution (C88, p.4 paragraph 1) I would like to throw in a few thoughts, in edited form, that first appeared in a letter of mine published in the February 97 issue of Mensa Magazine in response to an essay by Victor Serebriakoff:
It seems to me that all moral and ethical systems have this in common: that their intention or tendency is to create or facilitate a coherent society, 'some kind of unified human community, lifestyle or culture' to quote Mr Serebriakoff. In other words, we call that moral which tends towards coherence among persons, or between persons and their social and natural environment, the basic moral proposition being that all persons are akin to ourselves and should be treated accordingly. Such systems differ, however, in the way that they define the person. The more extreme the system, the narrower and more rigid the definition. To the Nazi only the 'Aryan' properly falls into that category (others are 'unmenschen'). To the religious fundamentalist 'those who are not for us are against us', mere 'vessels of wrath'.
It is interesting to note in this context that, as I understand it, many tribes refer to themselves by a word that translates as 'the people'. By implication, if you don't belong to the tribe you're not quite human.
It follows that the most adaptable form of morality will be that with the broadest definition of the person. Rigid and narrow definitions ultimately become extinct, along with the moral and political systems that they underpin.
Michael Nisbet
P.S. I have a book entitled 'Self-Knowledge and Self-Identity' by Sydney Shoemaker (Cornel University Press 1963). Chapter One opens with the following sentence: "What we mean when we assert something to be the case cannot be different from what we know when we know that thing to be the case." If anyone with a knowledge of the work of this philosopher can explain what the hell this means, I would be grateful.
On Shoemaker, I have no knowledge of his work beyond what can be gleaned from The Oxford Companion to Philosophy. I imagine he’s saying that an assertion is a claim to know. Ie., if I say "Smith lives in Watford", I’m claiming to know that Smith lives in Watford, else I’d have said "I think Smith lives in Watford", or some such, which is merely a claim to know what I think (as only I can).
Theo