Our Moral Abyss

First, let me state my basic thesis poetically. To some, it will sound unoriginal, implausible, and overwrought:

We in the West are falling in a moral abyss. We are in mid-fall. It's been long since we careened off the precipice, though we have not hit bottom.

abyssPoetic language is vague, so let me explain what I mean.

1. Plumbing the abyss

We began falling when we (many of us) stopped earnestly using the language of moral judgment, i.e., the discourse of individual responsibility, of suffering the hard consequences of foolish action, of liberal knowledge, hard-earned wisdom, of bad judgment, of the risky exercise of freedom that entails and requires judgment, of sound character and good habit, of courage, humility, and other virtues. In short, our strength of character is weakened, and the cultural wisdom needed to keep it strong, the cultural capital we built up over thousands of years, has been squandered in the space of a few generations.

So many good and necessary habits we used to have, which strengthened our character and that of our children, have been carelessly tossed in the dustbin of history. Instead, look at what we have. Look honestly. Look past your partisan or religious contempt and your haughty reactions, and try to judge soberly how far what I say here is actually true.

Blaming others, rejecting responsibility... What we have is a society that blames others for our failings. Our problems are blamed on benighted parents, racism and sexism, evil corporate masters, venal politicians, the corrupting influence of mass media, violent video games, and other dark forces. But ultimately, these too are all thought to be pawns and tools, and our problems are really all "structural" or societal. Ultimately we must engineer a better way to control the dark forces that inflict all our problems. In any case, our problems are not individual. We, too many of us, act as if we have no individual responsibility for our failings. We cannot be blamed.

freewill...because of a rejection of personal freedom. We have a society that increasingly rejects personal blame because it increasingly rejects personal freedom. This is a natural human belief that dies hard, but it is dying with contemporary education. Cynical journalists and "thought leaders" quote philosophically sophomoric scientists who assure us that free will is an illusion. Many educated young people believe this. Many educated older people also act as if they believe it. Our society is bathed in the language of therapy rather than philosophy and ethics. We are not lazy; we are depressed. We are not selfish, vain, and nasty; we have narcissistic personality disorder. Our children aren't immature and irresponsible; their frontal cortexes are incompletely developed. We are not evil; we have antisocial personality disorder. Mass murderers are not inhumanly wicked, they are always "troubled" and must have a history of mental illness. The most appalling enemies of our civilization, groups like ISIS, are not monsters, they are merely reacting to abuse of Western power in their home territory. Even positive responsibility—praise—sometimes goes by the wayside. The inventors and entrepreneurs of every sort, the people who actually create progress, are sometimes denied their accomplishments by an egalitarian tendency to say, "you didn't build that": it was society, it was all of us working together. Both blame and praise are shared out into society at large.

Collectivized risk and coddling above freedom. We have a society that insulates our youth from risk, that cushions every blow, that places safety above freedom. Our older generations remember a society in which one saved diligently for "a rainy day." Now, we have collectivized risk, with credit cards, bankruptcy meaning only the loss of credit, the social safety net beneath it all. These are not bad things in moderation, surely, but we have gone too far. We are forced to buckle up and we may not smoke in public—all for our own good, of course, and who really can complain? Many of our professors and university administrators are increasingly comfortable with and even insistent upon sheltering our children not just from harsh behavior but from harsh talk and offensive ideas, ideas known by society's enlightened elite to be benighted and wrong. A growing number of young people, meanwhile, being so used to their cocoon-like existence, demand such coddling; they were apparently never taught that there might be something wrong with it, wrong because inconsistent with their self-reliance, rights, and freedoms.

"The salt of the earth"—ignored, at best. We have a society that indeed glorifies foolish youth and is fascinated with famous idiots, finding hard-earned wisdom—as opposed to the latest fads handed down from on high—to be just another, quaint point of view. The ordinary, solid man and woman, who get married, stay together, maintain a stable household for children, are productive and pay their taxes, obey the law and do their duty, and grow old and full of wisdom—these people used to be thought of as "the salt of the earth." Today they are ignored, forgotten; worse, sneered at as bourgeois, middle class, and old-fashioned; or worse still, dismissed as merely "privileged" and as part of an oppressor class. They are rarely honored, except by their families and friends. The former "salt of the earth" hear signals everywhere that their lives are boring, inauthentic, even offensive. Many philosophers and priests of days gone by would disagree, but they too are boring and offensive.

winsor-mccay-good-bookWisdom literature—ignored, at best. We consult psychologists, celebrities, and pundits for wise advice on living, rather than philosophers and priests—but perhaps that's understandable, since so many of today's philosophers and priests have really gotten out of the wisdom game, after all. The philosophers focus on technical questions far more than broad, useful soul- and mind-craft, and I have heard that our religious leaders focus not on how to avoid sin and live more pure and holy lives, but instead on how to rely on God to inspire us to success and abundant joy. Increasingly, our teachers reject the wisdom of "dead white men," glorifying whatever is new or genuinely produced by online communities, so long as it can be consumed quickly and easily by those who have never been taught to pay attention. The great books are less and less thought of as sources of perennial wisdom but instead are increasingly forgotten or, when remembered, viewed with contempt and hatred.

Increasingly, we lack the cultural capital needed to pass on the classic virtues.
So very much has been lost already.

A society of educated fools. Wisdom—gone. Although more of us than ever are college educated now, fewer than ever seem acquainted with or comfortable discoursing in terms of the best concepts, examples, and narratives of perennial, classical Western values. It's all so old-fashioned and pretentious to us now. Much wisdom could be found in the Bible, whatever its faults might be, but in a largely secular society, those things are mentioned only the church services that a dwindling minority of the population attend on Sunday, and often not even there. Public discourse, which now mostly takes place online, the happyfoolsdiscourse that at least among educated adults ought to be the most informed by classical standards of knowledge and logic, is mostly an exchange of tiresome fallacies, insults, and memes, when it does not consist of outraged head-nodding in Internet silos. We have become a society of educated fools.

Conscience replaced. And the practical wisdom, the wisdom that ought to inform how we spend our time and guide important decisions, seems a dwindling commodity as well, as more and more supposed adults act like selfish adolescents in their personal habits and relationships. Judgment of ourselves in moral terms, once called "conscience," is rarely done or discussed. We can't help but feel guilty at our faults—moral feelings die hard. But we don't put a moral description on our faults. They are mistakes, self-destructive behavior, stresses, failures, embarrassments, addictions, flare-ups of psychological problems. They are so rarely vices, bad habits, foolish choices, bad actions, shameful behavior. The very idea of practical wisdom sounds increasingly antique and even foreign. Today we have "life hacks" that sound like technology instead of soulcraft.

Out of control, with a shrug. Self-control, or temperance—gone. Since around the 1990s we have freely admitted to binging on everything. We waste thousands of hours of our free time in front of television sets, not improving ourselves. We smile indulgently as many of our college students get drunk every weekend and "hook up"—it's merely a rite of passage and youthful high spirits. Of course, everyone can agree there's a problem when one of these hook-ups ends in a rape accusation. But the problem, society's leaders say, is that our young men have failed to receive the proper sensitivity training. It is not due to a thoroughly vicious tendency on the part of everyone, men and women of all ages, to dehumanize others, to use others. We don't discuss how appallingly damaging this high-spirited behavior can be to the souls of some students, those who go on to become alcoholics (not drunkards), who get pregnant and abort the babies and regret it for the rest of their lives, who cannot view the opposite sex with a sense of romance and without cynicism. Avoiding the entire morass, many of our men are glutted on desensitizing porn. Even our boys are glutted—on time-wasting video games. Many of us are glutted on social media, a huge time-suck that is often strangely impersonal. In the face of our many and varied temptations, it seems most of us can barely hold it together. We can't stop ourselves—or so we tell ourselves, with a self-indulgent shrug.

laziness
Kindness and humility, uncool. 
Humility, unselfishness, kindness—the winning social graces of caritas, they too are sadly mostly gone. We are still restrained by peer pressures to behave more or less politely. But there is something at once pretentious and very small about so many people today. Few seem to find a value even in the outward display of ostensible humility, such as self-deprecating remarks. Besides that, actual humility involves candidly admitting faults, limitations, and ignorance, apologizing, allowing others to go first—everything that flows from a realistic assessment of human frailties and an acknowledgement of others as true equals. Instead, we are told to promote our personal brands and "never apologize, never explain." In big cities especially, civilization has evolved in such a way that "taking what's yours" and aggressive self-assertion are expected parts of being an ambitious go-getter. It is also simply part of being "cool." Indeed, the very idea of "cool" involves some amount of contempt or cynicism toward other human beings. The notion seems to be that it is cool to act like you don't really care about basic civility and kindness, about acting like ladies and gentlemen. The sheer inhumanity of man toward man sometimes on display online and in traffic still sometimes surprises me, and I'm almost 50; younger people don't realize that "polite society" wasn't always like this. It's changed—really. Things have gotten better in some ways, yes, for example toward women and minorities; but they have also become ruder, cruder, and less graceful toward everyone.

I could go on but I don't want to write a book—I just want to make it clear what I mean when I say we are in a "moral abyss."

2. What the abyss is not

A nonpartisan abyss. I have not mentioned the moral criticisms conservatives make of the liberals: I take no stand, here, on whether the problems I have sketched are related to the conservative political bêtes noire of abortion, gay marriage, and drug legalization. Nor do I mention the moral criticisms liberals make of conservatives. Whether lingering intolerance, racism, sexism, anti-intellectualism, etc., are part of the abyss, I will leave the reader to decide.

The abyss is throughly nonpartisan. I have many friends who would take great issue with any suggestion that any such moral abyss is a consequence of the post-1960s liberal drift of society. I think they will mostly agree that good habits, and the classical virtues I have discussed, are important. I think my conservative friends will agree as well.

The sociological abyss. While I find our moral abyss can be described in a politically neutral way, there are some deep social problems I do associate with this moral abyss. Divorce rates have stayed at 50% for the last half-century; illegitimacy rates have soared over 40%, while marriage rates have shockingly declined; in Western societies and especially among elites, childbearing has fallen below the replacement rate, and appallingly, certain radicals in the "childfree" movement readily admit that they hate children; drug addiction is widely regarded as one of the leading ills of society; homelessness remains a huge problem; crime, while it has declined, lingers above pre-1970 rates, and it has probably declined in the U.S. because of how many criminals we lock up for long periods; etc. Arguably, these are each related to the common atrophying of our character.

Call all that the sociological abyss, and as appalling as it is, it is not the abyss that I mean. As bad and as consequential as all that is, I am more concerned about the moral abyss that resides within each of us.

childrenofignorance

The abyss in us. I mean an abyss within me and within you. There are "saints" among us, no doubt. I'm not one of them, and I doubt you, reader, are one either. Our souls, so to speak, have collectively atrophied. When I talk about such things as lack of temperance and unkindness, I think ruefully of myself, my friends, and my family as much as I think of anyone else. I'm not trying to be falsely modest; I am making a hand-wringing confession. These problems seem to be in all of us, or nearly all of us, to some extent. If my hypothesis is correct and there were some valid way to measure at least the classical virtues I have mentioned, then as a society we would have seen a measurable decline from a hundred years ago until now.

Aren't we living in a golden age? Still, you might say, it seems somehow ridiculous and perverse to complain about a moral abyss, and, if not motivated by a religious point of view, my complaint is simply weird, I will be told. (Especially by my fellow libertarians.) The world has gotten better. Literacy rates worldwide have grown. Standards of living have risen. Crime has declined. We live in nothing short of a golden age of invention, entrepreneurship, and technology.

A gilded age. All true. But all completely and utterly irrelevant to the problem I'm endeavoring to describe. Please, please make an effort to understand what I'm saying; it's important. The problem I'm describing is not reliably reflected in sociological or partisan issues. Of course it seems bizarre, to someone strolling down the bustling, famous, elite avenues of New York City, San Francisco, London, or Paris, to hear we are falling in a moral abyss. I understand the attitude. I get it: our society is deeply impressive, yes, in many ways. I'd say we live in a gilded age.

If this is your reaction, I want to grab you metaphorically by the collar and shake some sense into you, because you don't comprehend at all. The outward trappings of civilization in the centers of power mean nothing to the character of the everyday person in the civilization. Surely, if you are liberally educated or have some moral sense, you must know this.

FoolLand

 

3. We need to change

The challenges of parenting in the 21st century. So many parents lack a knowledge of the religious texts, the literature, the history, and the philosophy teaching such virtues. They have a weak grasp of the concepts and of the language needed to pass them on. Above all, they lack the virtues within themselves to teach them by example. Consequently, parents today produce children that must struggle to learn the qualities of character they so desperately need to know to lead decent, contented lives and ultimately maintain our civilization. And not surprisingly, we parents fail a lot, even if we try. It was always so, I'll be told. Perhaps, but it's gotten worse, a lot worse. The virtues were already weakened in our own parents' generation.

Keeping up with the equally decadent Joneses. I admit that the problems I'm describing here might seem relatively unimportant "first world problems." Your family is not homeless, probably nobody is strung out on drugs, the children are loved by their parents (whether together or divorced), etc. You're doing fine. In that case, then yes, OK: you're doubtless doing just fine compared to the Joneses. But you and the Joneses and everybody else together are living in a weakened version of Western civilization. I fear we are living on borrowed time, running on the fumes of the Enlightenment. The moral fiber within each of us has weakened, and in some it has thinned to the breaking point.

What is to blame for mass murders. It breaks in various startling ways. It was, for example, the recent shooting in Roseberg, Oregon, of nine innocent people, that inspired this cri du coeur.

Here's why I don't blame guns for mass murders. We went through generations in which guns were much less restricted than they are now, and we did not have regular mass shootings. Blame, instead, our moral abyss. We need to begin by blaming ourselves, our bad habits, and above all our utter foolish incomprehension about the way freedom, responsibility, and morality work in the world. After these atrocities, all too often we see hear stories that a brazen killer was "a nice guy" and good citizen and seemed normal enough. To be sure, sometimes the evil among us hide their evil thoughts and habits very well. But I think more often the actual behavior of those people is just not morally judged, period.

The rejection of responsibility makes the atrocities possible. The fact that we must look to societal causes rather than within the souls of the murderers—that is of course what these people are, after all, cold-blooded, soulless killers—is a profoundly deep part of the problem that brings these monsters into existence. If they had been raised in a society in which they were taught to take responsibility for themselves, in which the tools in their hands are not blamed, but instead the characters that wield them, then they might have found within themselves the moral wherewithal to resist the temptation to take out their frustrations on innocent others.

We are the abyss. I blame the monsters first and foremost. I also blame their parents and the abysmally amoral society they were brought up in, without which they would not seek to lash out as they do. "There but for the grace of God go I," says the lovely, humble Christian sentiment. I do blame the abyss. But we are the abyss, all of us. The abyss is in the killers, it is in their parents, and it is in me, and you, and almost everyone in this utterly degenerate old world.

We need to change.

If we find a purpose in the so many senseless killings of innocents, let it be a call to all of us, a call from somewhere outside of the abyss, so that we may all climb out of it. We need to stop making excuses for our moral failings. We need to own up to them, hang our heads in shame, support each other in correcting them, and improve our souls and improve our society.

We need to regain our moral sense.

rabbits

A video of this post (play it with close captions on):


No Social Media During Work! Take the pledge NOW!

Social media is a time suck. I'm not as bad as some, but I need to focus better. I think a lot of us do, frankly. Don't you agree? Then let's start a No Social Media During Work campaign!

I'm pledging to abandon social media networks when I am at work, except for narrowly defined work purposes. And I'm asking you to hold me to it and slag me mercilessly if you catch me at it! And I'm inviting you to take the pledge, too!

Here is my pledge. This feels like a big step. Here goes!

I pledge, as of NOW, to abandon social media networks when I'm at work! Pledge with me!

I am at work weekdays at least from 8 a.m. until 5 p.m. Eastern, taking noon until 1 p.m. for lunch; and also from 9:00 p.m. until 11 p.m.; on Infobitt.

I want to do as well as I can on it! So I hereby pledge to abandon social media networks when I am at work. Hold me to it and slag me mercilessly (after your work) if you catch me at it!

I am @lsanger on Twitter, larry.sanger on Facebook, Larry Sanger on Quora, and Larry Sanger on YouTube. Hold me to my pledge!

Exceptions are very, very narrowly limited to: posts and discussion about Infobitt; also, holidays and declared sick days.

Checking for responses on any network is permitted only if I recently posted something work-related, and I might actually get a response.

I also promise to track my friends' pledges. If I notice a broken pledge, I will call them on it!

If you, too, want to take the pledge, then post a copy of your pledge to all social media networks you spend time on. Feel free to double down by adding your pledge to the bottom of this pagehttp://larrysanger.org/2015/06/take-the-pledge/ . Make sure to include your pledge somewhere on your user page, not just as a separate post, so you and others will not forget your pledge. Do make a video of yourself (here's mine) reading a written version of your pledge on any video networks of yours, like YouTube.

Work hard, and then play hard!

Wow. I hope this is the right decision. I think it is. It feels like a big one. I'm actually very excited!

OK, are you ready to take the "No Social Media During Work" pledge with me? Come on, DO IT! Not only will you get more work done and feel better about yourself, if you post it publicly on all your networks, then you can help improve the productivity of the world! And you can publicize your own social media presence. It's a massive win for everybody!

Come on, somebody write an app to catch me and others in violations, and I'll use it (the iPhone version) and link to it!

Here's a pledge form you can fill out:

I pledge, as of NOW, to abandon social media networks when I'm at work! Pledge with me!

I am at work weekdays at least [ list your work hours; list breaks if you want, though I didn't list any, except for lunch] on [your company, project, school, etc.—optional].

I want to do as well as I can on it! So I hereby pledge to abandon social media networks when I am at work. Hold me to it and slag me mercilessly (after your work) if you catch me at it!

I am ___ on Twitter, ___ on Facebook, [ list other social networks similarly]. Hold me to my pledge!

Exceptions are very, very narrowly limited to: [ list exceptions as carefully as necessary]; also, holidays and declared sick days.

Checking for responses on any network is permitted only if I recently posted something work-related, and I might actually get a response.

I also promise to track my friends' pledges. If I notice a broken pledge, I will call them on it!

If you, too, want to take the pledge, then post a copy of your pledge to all social media networks you spend time on. Make sure to include your pledge somewhere on your user pages, not just as a separate post, so you and others will not forget your pledge. Do make a video of yourself reading a written version of your pledge on any video networks of yours, like YouTube.

Work hard, and then play hard!

Well, are you in?


Some unpopular opinions

Here are some unpopular opinions, for your outrage or delight.

1. One of the biggest but least recognized reasons that American school system sucks—and it most certainly does—is that so many teachers and education professors are just as anti-intellectual as most parents. This is why we homeschool.

2. A large contingent of geekdom is actually anti-intellectual, too, as paradoxical as that might sound. Not all; certainly not my friends.

3. The most important purpose of education is not vocational education, but to train and liberate the mind, to create fully competent and responsible free citizens of a free republic. This, contrary to the much-celebrated Sir Ken Robinson, is not "boring stuff." We've got to adopt the right educational goals, lest we continue to suffer great opportunity costs of various inefficient educational methods. It's a goddamned shame that national treasures like Marva Collins have not been listened to and learned from.

4. Knowledge—which is a key element of the mission of education—involves no small amount of memory work. No, it doesn't matter that research is updating our knowledge base very regularly. If we could only jettison our distaste for memory work, we might learn the tremendous advantages of spaced repetition.

5. Television is mostly a friggin' waste of time. You're better off without access to broadcast and cable TV. You can watch the good stuff on your own time via Netflix, Amazon Prime, etc.

6. Latin and Greek are still good languages for kids to study.

7. Yes, babies can read. Robert Titzer (of Your Baby Can Read fame) was badly misunderstood and unjustly attacked. At least, babies can start to learn to read. By the time they're preschoolers, they can read well. This doesn't require pressure in any way. It's fun. Maybe you just didn't know this. Try to keep an open mind.

8. Joyful, disorganized early education can generally do great things for little kids. It's a completely avoidable national disgrace that so many kids exit first grade without knowing how to read.

9. All that just goes to show you that experts can be really friggin' dogmatic, or so I find, as much as I do respect them. They're highly susceptible to groupthink, and we must not confuse devotion to science and scholarship with uncritical acceptance of whatever trends happen to be in the ascendancy among the current generation. Follies are frequently collective, even among smart, well-educated people. Sad, but all too true.

10. Another example of dogmatic experts: yes, we do have free will, properly understood. Oh-so-clever science students stupidly assume that science alone can establish the contrary. They pretend not to be doing philosophy, when that is exactly what they are doing (albeit badly). They are annoying in their stubborn failure to understand the issues. Compatibilist free will is the only sort of freedom we need.

11. Our university system is broken, but it's a huge mistake to conclude that college is a waste of time. I propose that we pop the education bubble by creating a new, more independent and modular system of higher education, with degrees by examination among other things.

12. It makes no sense to use reason to call into question the use of reason. "He must either be a fool, or want to make a fool of me, that would reason me out of my reason and senses," said one of my heroes, Thomas Reid. It is per se rational to begin our reasonings from the principles of what philosophers like Reid and G. E. Moore called "common sense."

13. An objective morality does exist. Relativism is dangerous and wrong. It is not the case that, if God is dead, everything is permitted. As Aristotle knew, life itself is the basic good that underlies our moral judgments; so our basic duty is to live well.

14. While in some ways Western civilization has never been more powerful and enlightened, it has also become morally and intellectually arrogant, sclerotic, and stunted. This can't end well.

15. More specifically, I am appalled and saddened by how cynical and morally bankrupt so many people can be today when acting as part of governments, bureaucracies, parties, corporations, schools, social cliques, the dating scene, gangs, law enforcement, publishing, etc., etc.—and when our supposed intellectual leaders mostly avoid moral judgment of the contemptible behavior that takes place in these social contexts. Corruption and cynicism are not OK; it doesn't matter if "everybody's doing it." Someday I'll write an essay, or a book, about this.

16. We've lost our moral and intellectual bearings. Religion is no longer a unifying force, of course. Even the formerly unifying ideals of western civilization—knowledge, freedom, dignity, excellence, self-control, etc.—have come under attack by much of our intelligentsia. Ideology is no substitute; no, nothing substantial is in its place. As a society, we're sleepwalking. It's alarming. Again, it can't end well.

17. Goddamned Hollywood is a morally depraved hot mess. They have got to get their house in order. They generally don't deserve our attention beyond any worthwhile entertainment they happen to produce.

18. I'm sorry if this offends, and I'm not saying this about my many liberal friends, who are generally very original and brilliant, but I'm going to say it anyway: conventional, dull, social-climbing, ambitious people are now mostly liberal or progressive Democrats. Being a lefty is no evidence that you are a smart nonconformist, not that it ever was. There are still plenty of dull, conventional conservatives too, of course. But at some point we've got to start talking about big-government left-wingers in this country as "conservatives," just as unreconstructed communists in the old Soviet Union were called "conservatives." Then I'll ask for the good old word "liberal" back.

19. I am particularly appalled by the illiberal hostility that certain left-leaning students, and some older people as well, are showing toward the fundamental American ideals of free speech and intellectual tolerance. In the Facebook alumni group for my alma mater, the uber-liberal Reed College, a lot of older liberals share my consternation at these trends; no, they aren't conservative or even libertarian.

20. Jonathan Chait is correct that there is a new political correctness. We have become too sensitive and rely far too much on dismissive arguments regarding how people have allegedly broken new social norms that not everyone shares. We ought instead to engage on issues of substance. That we don't is really screwing up our civic culture.

21. Speaking of political incorrectness, I have some guilty pleasures on YouTube that aren't quite politically correct for me to admit to liking. I admire their outspokenness, their intellectual courage in an increasingly censorious age, and their thoughtfulness. Let me introduce you to them:

Pat Condell. In-your-face atheist, old-fashioned liberal, vociferous defender of free speech. I might not always agree with him—actually, I often do—but in any case, I admire his spirit.

Karen Straughan. I'm really going to catch it for endorsing her, so let me just say first that I'm not convinced that her general take on feminism is right—it's a lot to process and I need to think her views through more (a book would help). Still, I love that she's a bisexual single mother and yet has the courage to comes down, hard, against the bigger stupidities of radical feminism. She comes across as remarkably articulate, intelligent, and frequently shows she's done a lot of research; it's hard to believe she doesn't even have a college degree. She's going to be famous in 10 years if not sooner.

I also like the brand of feminism of my fellow philosopher Christina Hoff Sommers; I have ever since reading her Who Stole Feminism? back in the 1990s.

"Rockin' Mr. E." He's sort of a long-haired Greek-Welsh cross between Pat Condell and Karen Straughan. Again, I don't always agree, often because his arguments would require research and thought to evaluate properly—but I often do find myself inclined to agree, anyway. I appreciate his nonconformist, independent spirit, anyway. And his chops on the electric guitar.

Let the sneering begin!

I'm sure I've managed to piss off everybody to some extent. I swear this isn't my intention. I'm not a troll because I actually believe what I say and think it actually important to say. I do own up to being a gadfly and possibly a pretentious, annoying git. But a troll, no.


How to pop the education bubble

1. Soul-making and the education bubble

One of my biggest pet peeves is the reduction of education to an economic transaction—to the gaining of marketable skills in exchange for fees.

That's all wrong.

Professional and vocational education is all fine and well, but education at the K-12 and college level is essentially soul-making. To be educated, we must be liberated from our prejudices, from our bad habits of lazy thinking, from our tendency to rely upon emotional reaction and dogma in place of critical analysis. To be well and liberally educated, we must learn to value the truth and how to seek it, and we must be given background knowledge and academic tools to do so.

I think there's a crying need for this today. All too much of what I encounter online that passes for argument seems to be more the spewing of reactions and dogma than the rational support of conclusions based on evidence, reasoning, and credible research.

We need to be better educated.

But let's face it: there's an education bubble. As many have pointed out (e.g., this guy and this one, both of whom were well-educated), education has become too expensive for "mere" soul-making.

Tuition at my alma mater, Reed College—one of the few colleges left that are still wholeheartedly committed to the liberal arts—rose from around $14,000 to $18,000 when I was there. (If I remember right.) The cost has simply continued to rise. The coming school year will cost $50,000. Of course, it's not the most expensive: Harvard is up to $60,000. That's absolutely insane. That does not reflect the real value of what one pays for when one attends college. It's clearly and simply a bubble.

But to say it's a bubble is to say it can be popped. How? Won't there always be an enormous demand for the connections and status conferred by an elite degree?

Well, no. Not if the price continues to rise. The market will find a way. Eventually, many of the best and brightest, even students from rich families who can afford to pay the tuition bill, will balk at the opportunity cost and seek, or create, cheaper and better alternatives.

2. What people want (and don't want) out of a college education

I made the contentious claim that Harvard's $60,000 tuition "does not reflect the real value" of a Harvard education. OK, OK, I don't really know if that's true. In fact, I don't even know what the words "the real value of an education" would mean. But let me explain what I was thinking.

Here's what's valuable about a college education:

• The credential itself.

• Knowledge and academic skill—and the liberal effects thereof.

• Marketable skills.

• The enjoyable "college experience," consisting both of the joy of learning and the forging of meaningful (not just mercenary) relationships.

• Connections formed via friends and acquaintances and within an alumni community. These can be very valuable at elite colleges.

• Recommendations professors are willing to make to graduate school or employers.

• The credential itself.

• Other things (e.g., it's easier to get into grad school at the university where you went to college; connections with researchers or practitioners in the field).

I don't know what all that's worth, but it's a heck of a lot. The thing is, we already know it's overpriced—because college tuition has gone up much faster than inflation, while the value of education has not increased. If anything, since more people have college degrees, and a lot of them are unemployed, the economic value of the degree has decreased.

The fact is, the things listed above, as valuable as they might be, can be had for a hell of a lot less than $60,000.

We also want a college education to treat us like adults with brains of our own. So there's another reason the education bubble needs popping: the system of higher education is increasingly politicized. For libertarians like me, it's ripe for revolution. A lot of people are disgusted with the fact that college, at least in the humanities and social sciences, has become as much a place of political indoctrination as of legitimate education. I remember some professors being extremely biased, back in the day; one could learn from them, but it was annoying. Things are several times worse now.

In addition, as a guy, I certainly would be thinking twice if I were getting ready for college, with so many stories of spurious harassment charges and so many students apparently incapable of handling controversial issues without freaking out (see the links listed in this Quora question). I think college should be a time of bold intellectual exploration, with students willing to fearlessly question and discuss anything together. I doubt I'd want to pay $50,000 per year in order to walk on eggshells around hyper-sensitive classmates, only to be indoctrinated by half of my professors.

Oh yeah, there's a bubble, and it's ready to be popped.

3. How to pop the bubble

The big question is, how on earth can we get the huge benefits conferred by college education, without actually going to college?

If we could answer that question, we'd have instructions for lancing the boil.

So here's my solution. (The following is an updated version of this old manifesto of mine from 1995.) This is what I might tell my boys when they're ready to start university-level study. It wouldn't be free, but it'd a lot cheaper than a college degree.

First, how to get the credential:

(a) Plan on getting your degree itself by examination. Degree-by-examination programs already exist. So that problem is solved.

But you probably need more than such a degree, particularly if you want to go to graduate school or get certain high-powered jobs. So:

(b) In addition, plan to pay a distinguished expert to test you in your major. I think that, when there is a demand, comprehensive and prestigious exam services will come into being. Basically, you register for an exam, you pay $100 or $1,000 (it really depends on how comprehensive it is and how good the examiners are) to sit the exam, and at the end, the institution awards you a degree. Until such programs come into being, you arrange to have a private written, oral, and/or practical exam with a distinguished expert. Then you'll be able to say, "Famous and distinguished scholar Dr. Knowitall gave me a final eight-hour written and oral exam about my subject area of  Wonkology. Dr. Knowitall judged my level of mastery to be 'Very Superior,' which is defined as 'superior to 90% of students awarded a bachelor's degree.'" I think you'll be able to find plenty of graduate programs that wouldn't accept that sort of recommendation in lieu of an actual bachelor's degree. And if one such examination doesn't seem persuasive to graduate schools or employers, arrange for two or three from different scholars.

But what about actually getting the knowledge and academic and marketable skills? How does one do that?

(c) With plenty of help, execute a program of independent study. When you've decided to start getting an actual college education, head on over to a city with lots of colleges and highly-educated people. Boston and the Bay Area are obvious choices, but there are many others. Audit classes—many professors don't care if you sit in on their lectures. For purposes of getting feedback on your work, hire tutors. Find the most distinguished professors you can who are willing to help (for a fee; and be prepared to pay a fair bit, as they are worth it). Get a guest library card from a large academic library. If I were advising my sons on how to do this, I would tell them to hire a freelance academic adviser to help them plan and manage their studies in the way described here. Such a person might also help motivate the student, and make sure he or she doesn't get off track.

The more people do this, the more a group of independent students might be able to get together and pay professors in the area for independent courses, a la carte. And of course if there are enough people doing that, then support mechanisms—apps, companies serving basically as registrars—would inevitably come into being. What I would not recommend is simply cracking open books and viewing The Great Courses, as excellent as they might be. Of course that could be part of your program, but I recommend against becoming an autodidact. A real education absolutely requires (a) discussion, preferably with peers as well as professors, and (b) feedback on your written and oral work, which you use to improve. It's best if both (a) and (b) are done face-to-face, but today, no doubt some of this work will be done via the Internet.

But what about the "college experience" and the social connections you get from college? Where could they come from?

(d) Seek out like-minded students to study and live with. A central part of a new ecosystem of independent study would be, one hopes, study groups and shared housing, like independent dormitories. The idea is that a group of students all starting to study the same subject might rent a house together, near some big prestigious university. This might forge relationships very similar to those found in the college setting. Such houses might invite professors to teach classes. (Speaking as a former college instructor, I have to say that that sounds like a blast.) Other academic social activities—invited lecturers, etc.—can be organized via the Internet and would no doubt be supported by a highly entrepreneurial ecosystem supporting such independent study. (Digital Badges and Uncollege are two forays in this direction.)

Perhaps, as such an ecosystem begins to cause problems for universities, some universities themselves might support the independent students in various ways. This is what happened when distance education started getting popular in the 1990s.

What about official letters of recommendation?

(e) Relationships between tutors and independent scholars would naturally be closer than between professors and students. The tutors would probably know and be better able to write letters and make other recommendations than they do for regular college students. Obviously, we won't know the details until we've done more experimentation, but there's no reason to suppose someone who has undergone a course of study described above could not find a berth in graduate school or industry, directly with the help of distinguished experts who know the students' work very well.

If enough students followed the path of independent study, there would be various competing national testing services capable of vouching for your level of expertise in a subject and for your overall educational attainment. One advantage of such a system is that it would be potentially more meritocratic: rather than saying you have an English degree from Harvard, you would say that you scored a 96 (out of 100) on the Yalvard B.A. English exam and an 83 on the Yalvard B.A. General Liberal Arts exam. To be able to reach such scores, you would not necessarily need to attend an elite school. But such scores might well get you into graduate programs, and they would naturally open other doors as well.

The system envisioned would replicate the college experience, but without the college and without the exorbitant college fees. I'm sure you could get away with paying instructors $10,000 per year or less; maybe much less. The biggest risk that I can see is that the economies of scale don't exist yet, making a bit of the plan less feasible, or harder to execute anyway, for the early adopters. But not a lot of it.

It's a little like homeschooling for college (a notion Dale Stephens was talking about a while back). Public schools in the U.S. are so unsatisfactory to so many people that a significant number of parents (like me) are opting out of the system and doing it themselves. The affordances of the Internet and the entrepreneurial spirit of the early 21st century could combine to enable a bunch of people to drop out of high-priced colleges and come together in a less-expensive but still high-quality, less-politicized, face-to-face system.

And it sounds like fun to me. It almost makes me wish I were a college student myself, because if I were, this is almost certainly what I would want to do.

A final bonus: the early adopters can make a business out of it after they've learned how to do it and worked the bugs out.


The Free Speech and Intellectual Tolerance Credo, Draft 1

This is a credo in defense of freedom of speech and intellectual tolerance. As a credo, anyone can endorse or sign this; please do, in whatever form you wish. Feel free to add, subtract, or respond.

It is a DRAFT statement of belief in response to certain claims sometimes made, loosely implied, or perhaps occasionally assumed by those whose main focus is social justice—people called perhaps unkindly "social justice warriors" (SJWs). (I prefer the phrase "radical social justice advocates" (RSJAs) to refer to the same people, but without the associations.) The worry is that some people seem to lack adequate respect for free speech rights in their fight for social justice. But before you call these statements "straw positions," please bear in mind that we are not saying that any particular individual actually denies any particular statement here. I'd be happy to include some planks directed more specifically to problems with free speech that conservatives have.

I want these statements written so that they are acceptable by a wide range of people of progressive, liberal, centrist, libertarian, and conservative points of view. So please suggest edits.

1. Free speech, why important. Free speech is a deeply important right, because it enables responsible, democratic government, liberal education, more accurate journalism, conscientious religion, deep and critical philosophy, fair discourse, and through all of these, good habits of individual, rational deliberation.

2. Freedom of dissent. Free speech entails freedom to disagree, dissent, and criticize.

3. Open disagreement in forums. Simply expressing open disagreement with the tenets of—to take a few instances at random—religion, feminism, progressivism, conservatism, and government policy is and should remain free and welcome speech in most forums.

4. Free speech on campus means academic freedom. Speech and dissent should especially remain free on the university classroom and campus, in official and unofficial functions. Censorship of ideas, especially on a college campus, is wrong. Academic freedom extends not just to professors but to students as well.

5. Freedom of speech does not entail a right of respect. No matter how certain you feel about your views, you do not have a right for those views of yours to be respected.

6. Privacy of conversation. It is simply wrong to attempt to shame a person by sharing what they have stated in what they reasonably expected to be a private conversation publicly online or with their employer.

7. "Doxxing" is unacceptable. Even worse is an attempt to silence a person by sharing private information—their address, ID or credit card numbers, etc.—about them online.

8. Silencing through threats is unacceptable. Attempting to silence a person by threatening them with bodily or other harm is, obviously, completely incompatible with free speech. This must stop.

9. Offensive speech. The speech most in need of protection is offensive speech; after all, inoffensive speech is not in need of protection. If you do not support a protection for offensive speech, you do not support a right to free speech.

10. You do not have a right not to be offended. That means others have a right to say things you find offensive. This is a basic part of being an adult in a free society.

11. Offending is not harming. Words, especially about hot topics such politics, religion, race, gender, etc., can cause all manner of upset. Nobody likes that, but you aren't being meaningfully harmed by those words in the legal sense. Society long ago agreed to set aside minor, passing emotional discomfort, such as is caused by ordinary discourse, as something you can be punished for causing—or else the government's job becomes too big and too prone to unfairness.

12. Speech you hate is not necessarily hate speech. Speech that you hate is "hateful" (obnoxious, offensive, annoying) to you, but that does not by itself make it "hate speech" (expressing hatred of people for their, e.g., racial or ethnic identity). Careful not to mix these up.

13. Avoid false claims of triggering. Being "triggered" is something different from feeling offense or discomfort or outrage. If you don't actually have a PTSD, you don't deserve to be taken seriously if you claim to be triggered. In that case, you're just expropriating the scientific language of therapy and applying it to your own feelings of discomfort.

14. Your trauma should not prevent others from learning. If a topic, book, or other media so traumatizes you that you cannot participate, you do not have the right to prevent others from learning from it.

15. Trigger warnings should not be required. Of course, polite warnings about difficult material are a fine idea. You may request that they be made, but a requirement puts pressure on instructors to avoid controversial or emotional material, which is at odds with the very purposes of education.

16. Free speech is not "unsafe." The following things, all by themselves, do not in fact make you unsafe: someone disagrees with your opinion, your religion, your ideology, your cause; someone criticizes you; someone else is merely angry or offended; someone has an opinion that you find "hateful."

17. Feeling unsafe is different from actually being unsafe. The circumstances matter, of course, but in general, simply claiming or even feeling that you are unsafe is not enough for you to be unsafe.

18. Avoid false claims about being "unsafe." To state that something someone says makes you feel unsafe only because you wish to silence the person is wrong, contemptible, and a direct attack on free speech.

19. Free speech and intellectual tolerance go together. A society committed to free speech is also committed to intellectual tolerance, or tolerance of a wide variety of points of view. Societies that have many rules about what people may say are consequently strongly intolerant of the verboten points of view. A society devoted to free speech "agrees to disagree."

20. Intellectual tolerance, what. Intellectual tolerance involves "letting" people have a different point of view from yours. You don't have to like it. You don't even have to respect it. But you should respect the moral right of people to hold those different views.

21. Intellectual tolerance means not shutting others' speech down. If you're personally committed to free speech and tolerance, you won't shout people down at speeches they're giving.

22. Intelligent people disagree with you. Just because somebody does not immediately agree with you, that doesn't mean that they are ignorant or unenlightened.

23. Privilege does not need to be silenced. Just because someone is a member of a "privileged" group, it doesn't follow that he or she deserves to be silenced or shamed.

24. Fixation on "privilege" can make you a bigot. Constant attention to the identity groups of your "privileged" opponents means you're engaging in identity-based bigotry and stereotyping—which is something social justice is supposed to be opposed to.

25. Don't pull out the big guns so quickly. Someone is not a sexist simply because he expresses skepticism of one of the tenets of feminism. Someone is not a racist simply because does not agree with you. Someone is not a socialist just because they are a Democrat or in favor of Obamacare. Words like these tend to shut down conversation and harden positions. They should be used only with evidence.

Anything else to add? Anything directed more toward conservatives?

Once this is completed, I might seek out more attention. For now I've just posted it on the blog and have sought a input from a few acquaintances.

Ultimately, I'd love to see such a statement drafted and posted for many people to sign. Of course, it should only include statements that (1) we have seen radical social justice activists (RSJAs) or conservative opponents of free speech make (or which they appear to assume), (2) seem to be very implausible, and also such that (3) some contrary point of view appears to be a matter of common sense. So, no conservative talking points, of course. Just the obvious stuff that most free speech-loving liberals, libertarians, and conservatives can agree upon and on which they disagree with RSJA types.


How to end Western civilization

[A video version of this post is at the bottom of the page.]

I was reading Climbing Parnassus, a book-length defense of learning Greek and Latin, and it goes into historical depth about the role of education as a preserver of the best of culture. This resonated strongly with me, because I think it explained my own revulsion at most educational practices today: perhaps what bothers me the most about the way children are educated by our schools is the fact that they are left almost completely ignorant of the substance, the foundation, and the beauty of Western civilization.

But the problem is not just a matter of ignorance of books and art. The problem is that knowledge of Western culture has a moral function—it is enculturating. Despite spending thousands of hours in school, students learn little of what can be called the ethical culture of Western civilization, apart from a few lessons drilled home especially hard, such as empathy, ethnic tolerance (not intellectual tolerance), and egalitarianism. Heard only in faint echoes in most classrooms, or in many cases long gone from them, are the texts, the art, and the discussion that would inculcate the rest of the great virtues: self-discipline and hard work, critical thinking and suspicion of superstition, love both as a romantic ideal and as the agape that drives our regard for all humans and maybe all life, good sense or wisdom, and so on. This has been the case since I was a student, and probably since before that, and I think it's gotten worse. As a result, our popular culture has become crass, rude, and in a word (which would not sound so quaint if we all studied classics more) barbaric.

In largely the same way, despite a few perfunctory efforts here and there, most of our students emerge from high school largely ignorant of the Constitution and our civic culture. First, they lack the education to appreciate The Federalist and The Anti-Federalist, or even to read and understand the founding documents themselves, but beyond that they are simply ignorant of the concepts and the defenses of them that, together, undergird our free republican form of government. They have virtually no clue about such things as freedom of speech, freedom from warrantless search, division of powers, and many other things that one must understand well in order to criticize politicians who, today, are actively trying to limit these aspects of our government. And as a result, the government of what was once supposed to be "a city on a hill" standing for freedom, tolerance, and civic virtue has become a nanny state, constantly rescuing us from ourselves, and one of the largest and most powerful governments in history. As the three branches of government each slowly, gradually remove more and more of our liberty, most of our people lack the tools to articulate or even appreciate objections, and those who have such tools are misunderstood and smeared.

Two historical movements, among others, have brought us to this situation. The first is progressivism in education, beginning with Dewey and his colleagues in about the 1920s. This was a profoundly anti-intellectual movement and transformed education from being a force for the teaching of the entire body of Western culture and values to a bland, smothering force for vague "life skills" and "socialization" and "creative self-expression." It is progressivism that has left our students incapable of understanding and appreciating our civic culture and values, leaving us open to gradual but inexorable domination of what might aptly be described as a new empire.

The second—and please don't misunderstand here—is the decline of religion as a serious cultural force for most people. I hasten to add that I'm agnostic, not a Christian, and I know very well that religion still does influence politics, mostly on the right. That's not what I'm talking about. Apart from a small percentage of evangelical Christians, few Americans (and of course many fewer Europeans) take religion seriously, as providing a broad moral basis that structures how we live our lives. Critics of the religious right often seem to forget that Christianity as a moral culture, beyond its religious and political tenets, instructed people to work hard, to hope for a better life, to treat others kindly and donate to charity, to practice the graces of humility and self-respect, to rein in our passions and practice moderation, to take responsibility for ourselves and our dependents, and much more. It wasn't all good, but much of it was. It taught the very idea of obligation, which has grown much weaker for many of us. It was an organizing, all-encompassing, core part of the Western civic culture. But really no more. Many don't go to church; many of those who do go to church don't believe; even those who do believe don't take religious moral strictures very seriously; even if they do, they probably don't understand them well; and finally, those who understand them aren't supported by most others, who are both ignorant and deculturated, and all too willing to "tolerate" all manner of sins. So, as I say, as a serious cultural force, inspiring us to live well, religion is a pale shadow of its former self. Even as a nonbeliever, this strikes me as a truly profound loss.

So we lack both the education and the cultural strength to resist enslavement both to our passions and to our government.

This is why it is so important that we reinvigorate our commitment to the liberal arts and that we show educational progressivism the door. I don't know or particularly hope that we will get religion per se back; I think relearning the classic virtues and the civic culture of the early United States could heal many ills. But if that is not enough, then perhaps we do need some sort of ethical cultural movement, something not associated exclusively with the left, as what goes under the name "ethical culture" is.

We can hope and we can make efforts. But I fear that we'll simply continue to leave our children largely incapable of assimilating Western culture, while we allow our governments both in North America and Europe to grow and become more authoritarian and centralized, running up massive debts. I fear the results of that situation. Our children and grandchildren will be very lucky if it ends well.


Why There Is Free Will

1. Some quick preliminaries

I believe there is free will. I am a compatibilist.

In this essay I will defend this view. I’ve taken this line ever since college, but have never taken the time to elaborate it since then. Especially with neuroscientists and other scientists asserting that free will doesn’t exist, and others buying their incompatibilism, I felt moved to respond.

So I decided to do a blog post, which is a lot easier than doing research and writing a journal article, which frankly I don’t have time to do these days (I’ve got a startup). To the philosophers out there: I know I’m probably just reinventing the wheel.

Let me admit up front that while I was trained as a philosopher, this isn’t my area of expertise. While I have given this argument some thought over many years, this isn’t a researched academic paper. I don’t claim to have the final word. That would take a book or two.

2. Some observations about the concept of free will

Free will exists and is compatible with determinism. The way to defend this is by explaining what “free will” means—and, more importantly, by arguing against an assumption about “free will” that incompatibilists make.

The way to motivate an argument for a certain definition is to make some observations about free will, and then hunt about for a concept that answers to those observations.

(1)   Free will gives us moral responsibility.
It is the freedom of our will that accounts for our being morally responsible for our actions. If we are guilty of doing something wrong, or praiseworthy for doing something right, then we must have acted freely; if we had no control and are not answerable for our actions, neither can we be praised or blamed.

(2)   Free will gives us our human dignity.
Whatever else we might want to say about it, it is our freedom that gives us our dignity qua human beings. I don’t merely mean our political dignity as citizens, though that is surely related; I mean our dignity as unique, valuable individuals who deserve the regard of other individuals and institutions. This is a common assumption about free will and dignity. This is why, for example, B.F. Skinner titled one of his books Beyond Freedom and Dignity.

(3)   Sometimes we act with free will, and sometimes we don’t.
If the concept of free will is to have some value, it should have instances where it applies and instances where it doesn’t apply.

(4)   The law gives us a clue as to when we lack free will.
The law finds people lacking in free will, and hence (in keeping with proposition (1)) less culpable or sometimes completely innocent, when people are insane, under the influence of drugs or alcohol, hypnosis, brainwashing, and of course under duress.

Now let’s see if we can find a concept of free will that makes these four observations come out true.

3. Why does free will require a lack of causal determination?

The assumption incompatibilists make is that freedom of will requires a lack of causal determination. But why make that assumption?

A common way to formulate the problem motivates an argument. If we are free, philosophers often point out, then we have the sense that we “could have done otherwise.” But science increasingly shows us that we couldn’t have done otherwise, say determinists; there was just one causal path we could have taken. And if we couldn’t have done otherwise, then we weren’t free, even if it seemed that we were. Freedom is just an illusion.

The problem with this lies in the operative phrase, “could have done otherwise”: it isn’t obvious what this means. “Could” makes the phrase modal, one about possibility, and as such it is deeply freighted; in fact, it carries a lot of theoretical freight. Sometimes “possible” means logically possible, sometimes physically possible, and sometimes it simply means consistent-with-some-assumptions.

Now, when we act freely, and could have done otherwise, which sense of “possibility” do we actually mean? The incompatibilist says, “physical possibility.” But why think that? Why think that, when we assert that we could have done otherwise, we mean it was physically possible for us to do otherwise? That seems far too strong to me.

Similarly, I see no reason to think that free will requires a lack of causal determination. This is a common assumption, and it seems to be commonsensical; but on examination it becomes clear that it is not.

The problem is that it does not square with my four observations. Let’s go through them in turn.

(1) Does lack of causal determination give us moral responsibility? One might say so, because if we aren’t determined, then we are the original source of our actions, and nothing and nobody else can be credited or blamed for our actions.

But on reflection, this doesn’t make very much sense, at least not to me. If indeterminism were true, then our decisions would have no cause whatsoever (or at least an inadequately determining cause) and it is the lack of a cause that would make us responsible for them. But why should we be saddled with the responsibility of decisions that lack causes? On the one hand, sure, it makes sense that since the decisions come from us, they have to do with us; but it is their failure to have a cause that makes us responsible. Wouldn’t it make more sense, in that case, to say that our decisions can’t be blamed on us precisely because they lack any causes? Why would the causelessness of our decisions make us responsible for them?

As far as explanations of free will go, we can do better (as I’ll argue further down).

(2) Does lack of causal determination give us our dignity? This makes even less sense. Death penalty critics find a basic level of human dignity even in murderers. What does our will’s lacking a cause have to do with that? Imagine a death row inmate’s defense making the following argument: “Your honor,” the defense says, “we cannot put John Doe to death. After all, like all of us, he has dignity. His decisions are uncaused.” Surely that’s a non sequitur.

(3) Is it possible that we sometimes have free will, and sometimes we don’t, on the view that free will is uncaused? It seems it would be more of an all-or-nothing affair. If determinism is generally correct, then the “free will is uncaused” view would entail that we never have free will. I think that philosophy’s main subject is concepts that are found and applied in natural language. If, by some proposed definition of a word, the word does not apply where we ordinarily think it does, that is excellent reason to think that that definition is incorrect. This is all the more true if a definition is available that does justice to the assumptions we ordinarily make about the concept.

(4) The law makes assumptions about free will. As I said above, legal concepts of freedom, which I suppose are grounded in the ordinary notion of free will, are used to distinguish between culpable and non-culpable (or less-culpable) states of mind. Does the “free will is uncaused” view do justice to these legal concepts?

Surely not. After all, when a court asserts that a defendant lacks free will, and is found not guilty by reason of insanity, are they saying that the defendant’s will was causally determined, whereas normally it is not? Of course not. Abstruse questions of causal determinism don’t even enter legal deliberations. Questions about whether the defendant was functioning normally, unimpaired, not under duress, etc., however, do.

As with moral responsibility and dignity, lack of causal determination doesn’t appear to explain such legal concepts—which are eminently useful and consequential—at all.

4. A commonsense notion of free will

We are discussing free will; we may take a clue from the word free.

Sometimes the will is free, and sometimes it isn’t. So when it is free, of what is it free? Free will lacks something; it lacks constraints of some sort. What sort?

We merely have to look at the four observations about free will to find an answer suggested. Let’s take observation (4) first. Notice what circumstances lead us to say that a defendant in a legal case did not act freely: such things as duress, severe alcohol- or drug-induced impairment, hypnosis, brainwashing, sleep (as in action taken during sleepwalking), senility, insanity, and let’s not forget childhood. If those circumstances prevent, remove, or impair our freedom of will, then what can we say, in general, about what freedom of will is?

I propose the following account:

The will is free, if it is an operation of a normally-functioning brain that is not impaired by anything that would prevent normal, rational, adult deliberation on our actions, whether or not we actually perform such deliberation.

If I act without thought, I might still act freely, because I could have stopped, taken stock, and restrained myself, even if I didn’t; I “could have” in the sense that nothing was stopping me.

Next let’s see how this account makes sense of my four observations about freedom.

As to (4), I listed circumstances that I said do, or probably should, prevent legal culpability. Each circumstance is rather handily explained by this account. Duress, of course, can cause us to make decisions we would not make but for the duress. Drug- and alcohol-induced impairment, as well as hypnosis, brainwashing, sleep, senility, and insanity, do in varying degrees impair our ability to deliberate about our actions normally and rationally. Under such influences we might act out of emotion, delusion, or incomprehension where we would not so act if we were functioning normally. As for childhood, we say children, especially small children, are not fully free agents simply because their ability to deliberate maturely, and regulate their decisions based on such deliberations, is not fully developed.

In this way, as you can see, my account of free will satisfies (3): there are instances of free will and instances of non-free will. Adults are normally free agents with free will, because we are functioning normally and not under duress. But when for example a person completely breaks with reality and starts fighting with things that aren’t there, he is no longer properly considered a free agent with free will, precisely because he’s no longer functioning normally.

Perhaps the most interesting argument for my account of free will is how it satisfies (1), i.e., how it explains why free will makes us morally responsible. This has nothing whatsoever to do with a will that lacks causal determination—again, why would that matter? But what clearly does matter is that our ability to deliberate, and thus our ability as adults to take full moral stock of our actions and compare them both to our personal principles and our legal and social constraints, be functioning normally. We are normally regarded as having free will, and are normally accorded respect qua fully adult, free agents, because we are normally unimpaired and not under any duress. We aren’t laboring under severe delusions, drug-induced hallucinations, insane rage, fear of harm from criminal influences, and so forth.

It is precisely our ability to deliberate that gives us our culpability. Regardless of the causal influences and streams, we (in my view, quite rightly) expect each other to own our free choices, regardless of the amount or type of thought we put into them. That’s because we could have given them more thought, we could have considered how they stack up against our duties, and we could have chosen the difficult but right way over the easy but wrong way. And if a person’s scruples were not sufficient to restrain him from the wrong thing—or, by the same token, if a person’s principles are so finely developed that they impel him to do the difficult but outstanding thing—then we blame or praise the person precisely because of the influence of his own deliberations on his course of action.

Similarly, my account of free will explains (2), or why free will is sometimes thought to give us our dignity qua human beings. It is, in short, our capacity for reason and rational action, our ability to guide ourselves as rational agents, that gives us our dignity. This also explains and comports very well both with the tradition of human rights and, for better or worse, with the view that animals lack the sort of dignity that humans have.

I’ll explain the latter points a bit further in the next section.

5. The functions of the concept of free will

My arguments so far go some distance to showing that, as it is normally used in ordinary language, “free will” is more of a moral concept than a metaphysical one. To assert that we have free will is to hold ourselves responsible for what we do, and in particular to highlight the importance of our rational, deliberative capacity in guiding our action. Those who lack such a capacity are not free. That’s why we do not treat drugged-out wastoids, the severely mentally ill, sleepwalkers, animals, small children, zombies (if they existed), and so forth, as free, rational agents as they move about in the world. They lack free will. That’s why they require institutionalization or special care of other kinds. (Or in the case of zombies, shotguns.) In this way, the notion of free will has real-world use.

This use is important and, indeed, indispensible—decidedly not something we will ever be able to discard, some determinists notwithstanding. This is not just because of how we treat those who lack free will, but much more because of how we treat those who have free will, and so are free agents. Let me explain.

To be treated as a free agent is to be treated as an autonomous individual, capable of making and being held responsible for important decisions. To operationalize this in the realm of the law: an autonomous, free individual answers for himself before the courts and in legal agreements; neither another person nor society as a whole (in the form of the government) may take on these responsibilities for him, unless he is found legally incompetent.

In the moral realm, to be treated as a free agent is, simply, to be treated as morally responsible. How we apportion praise and blame depends deeply on questions of a person’s maturity, basic mental competence, and further on how well the persons exercises his judgment. If someone gives $1,000 to charity for “pure” motives, we find it much more praiseworthy than if the person was forced or incentivized to give. And if a person kills in self-defense, the decision to kill is one made under duress and not nearly as heinous as one taken without duress (or insanity, etc.). In this way, how a person exercises his free will is crucial to how we evaluate the merit of his actions.

It also means something to be treated as a free agent in the political realm. In short, it means to be treated with the sort of respect that adults expect, and that children crave more and more as they get older. Adults give a certain sort of credit to the decisions of other adults; whether wise or foolish, our decisions are our own. The notion of tolerance owes something to the notion of freedom: it is not contradictory to tolerate things we find morally objectionable, because when we exercise tolerance, we respect not the action (or the speech) but the free decisions of persons out of respect for the varieties of human reason and experience. Rights in general are often regarded as being based on human dignity, which in turn is, I think, a function of the normal human capacity to deliberate and take action on our deliberations.

If we jettison the concept of free agency, we are in effect treating rational, responsible adults as if they were zombies, or children, or the enemy “other.”

Without the notion of free agency, we have much less reason to treat individuals as legally autonomous and uniquely competent to speak for themselves. In such a case, the law can disregard the wishes of individuals and replace them with somebody else’s notion of what serves the individual’s (or the public) good. Without the notion of free agency, we are neither to be praised nor blamed for our actions, or if we are, our good actions are praised not as our own achievements but as the community’s, and our bad actions are criticized not as our faults but the community’s. And without a robust notion of free will and free agency to inform concepts of political freedom, we are treated as children, and governments tend to act paternalistically, as “Big Brother.” Treating their citizens like children, governments do not credit citizens with the free agency, and therefore the basic levels of tolerance and rights, that citizens normally feel they deserve.

In general, it is the freedom of will that forms the basis for political freedom and human rights.

Those who claim we don’t have free will seem to be completely unaware of these deeply important functions that free agency play in our legal, moral, and political life. If one accords freedom of contract little respect, thinks culpability is always collective and morality generally outdated, and has contempt for tolerance, rights, and dignity of one’s political enemies, then one will also probably be comfortable chucking the notion of free will.

6. What about determinism?

The account advocated here may be especially difficult to swallow if you have drawn a strong equation between “free will” and “uncaused will.” Some people who discuss free will and determinism ad nauseam appear simply to assume there is such an equation; and so incompatibilism seems obvious to them.

Nevertheless, I think the arguments above make it clear that “free will” doesn’t mean “uncaused will.”

There remains a difficult problem. Many people do, for whatever reason, have the overwhelming sense that, if our decisions are completely determined by forces ultimately outside of us, then those decisions simply are not free. And perhaps in that case we don’t have moral responsibility for our actions. It might not be a matter of definition, but it’s a strong intuition nevertheless. So, some might find what I’ve said about the meaning of “free will” plausible, but still find themselves unable to agree that we have free will for the simple reason that it seems incompatible with determinism. Call this the “incompatibilist intuition.”

So there’s one part of my case in defense of free will, namely, I need to explain where the incompatibilist intuition comes from—and then explain, further, why this intuition is wrong.

Presumably, the intuition originates approximately like this: if I lack control over all the inputs to my decision, then I lack ultimate control over my decision as well. It is one thing to be able to deliberate about whether I’ll have soup or salad, and perhaps that gives us the illusion of control; but unless we can go back in time and control our own parents and teachers, we don’t really have control over whatever habits and principles we bring to bear in our deliberations.

This, I want to argue, is irrelevant to free will.

When we are deciding whether someone acted freely and is responsible for, say, committing an assault, we do not really care whether their parents taught them to be mean. Maybe they did; too bad, if so. If we accord them respect as free agents then we credit them with the ability to change.

But more to the point, we credit adults with their principles and habits, and the decisions that flow from them, as all coming from themselves. The point can be made more forcefully and relevantly: such principles and habits are part of who we are. Insofar as the person’s moral identity or selfhood partly consists of such things as internalized principles and habits—insofar as things like selfless honesty or self-serving dishonesty are part of who a person isthen in acting out of such principles and habits we are expressing ourselves. This is why our actions are free. When we credit a decision or action as free, and a person as a free agent, we are honoring the choice as flowing from “who the person is,” from the person’s identity or selfhood.

It is true that “the people we are” is made by our upbringing, environment, and genes, and that our decisions are influenced by various ephemera. And all of that might indeed mean that we are determined by those inputs. Nevertheless, whatever I—bundles of principles and habits that I am—happen to decide is credited as my free choice precisely because it comes from me. So the fact, supposing it is a fact, that I am causally determined to be as I am is perfectly irrelevant to my freedom and agency.

Consider an example of something that removes or attenuates our responsibility. Suppose someone holds a gun up to my head and tells me to give him my wallet. I am not acting freely when I hand over the wallet, because a relevant input to my decision comes from elsewhere. Except for the mugger’s threat, I wouldn’t hand it over. Another example. After ingesting hallucinogenic mushrooms, someone decides to climb a tree, because he hallucinates a bag of money up in the tree. There are elements of free action in the drug-induced state, but the tree-climber is not fully free because we do not credit the hallucination as coming from the drug user but from the mushrooms.

To say that a decision or action is free is not to say it is uncaused, but that it comes from habits, principles, etc., that we ascribe to the person himself and not to outside influences. To ascribe a principle to a person is not to say the person adopted the principle for no reason whatsoever; it is simply to say that he has in fact adopted it—that he owns it, so to speak.

I’m not sure many incompatibilists will be able to take this line very seriously, because the “uncaused will” view of free will is very much ingrained in our discourse about free will and determinism. Old habits die hard. But I think I’ve made an excellent case that free will means something along the lines of what I’ve explained.

In that case, we might resign ourselves to talking about two concepts of free will. Then I would agree that we have no free will, on the metaphysical, incompatibilist concept. But I would hasten to add that that concept simply does not matter. The ethical, compatibilist concept matters because we rely on it in our legal, moral, and political discourse.

We do have free will—in the sense that actually matters.


Why Edward Snowden deserves a pardon, explained in 10 easy steps

Let me put this briefly and simply. The government should not be snooping on us. But they started anyway. That was wrong and unconstitutional. When they did, they made their snooping program secret. That was wrong twice over, a cover-up of a wrong. Then they actually lied about the existence of the program to Congress, and the bureaucrat who perjured himself doing so is getting off scot free. Trebly wrong. And now when a low-level contractor, at tremendous risk to himself, courageously blows the whistle on this operation, he is threatened with extradition and very severe prosecution, rather than being pardoned. Quadruply wrong!

1. The Fourth Amendment is clear: the government may not indiscriminately snoop our private things. In the language of the Amendment, American citizens have the right to be "secure" in their "effects" against "unreasonable searches" except "upon probable cause" and a specification of the things to be searched.

2. But indiscriminate snooping is just what PRISM does. A surveillance program that regularly searches private telephone call metadata, as well as private Internet data, of virtually all American citizens seems on its face to vi0late the Fourth Amendment.

3. So PRISM is illegal and wrong. It sure looks unconstitutional.

4. And we had a right to know about it. Why wasn't the decision to start PRISM put before an open, public Congress? It was a decision with enormous potential consequences; it seems obvious that the American people had a right to decide whether it would be surveilled to this extent.

5. So it is doubly wrong that the PRISM program was hidden from us. We should have been able to voice our concerns to our representatives and the President when this program was started. But because it was implemented in secret, we couldn't. When it comes to how the entire population of the U.S. is treated--not just terrorism suspects--we have a constitutional republican democracy, not a secret government.

6. James Clapper's perjury is outrageous. When National Director of Intelligence James Clapper was asked by Sen. Ron Wyden on March 12, 2013, "Does the NSA collect any type of data at all on millions or hundreds of millions of Americans?" and he answered, "No, sir … not wittingly," he was not merely committing perjury. He was lying about a program that Americans had a right to know about, that it was important that they know about, because it affects all Americans' constitutional rights, and they have a right to assess and object to just such a program.

7. Edward Snowden is a hero for revealing the facts about PRISM. If it hadn't have been for the courageous whistleblowing of Mr. Snowden, we would still be ignorant of this massive violation of our constitutional rights. Considering the huge risks to himself, his whistleblowing was simply heroic.

8. It is shockingly and trebly wrong that Edward Snowden is being persecuted for whistleblowing. It is true that, in leaking classified documents, Edward Snowden broke the law. But he did so in order to reveal a much more dangerous sort of official lawbreaking. He arguably had a moral obligation--and, fortunately, the courage--to do so, since he observed that no one else in the government was making the program public. It is outrageous that a person who reveals a wrong perpetrated by a supposedly open and democratic government is persecuted for it by that same government.

9. Instead, those responsible for PRISM--and for making it secret--should be made to answer for their actions. Even if they are not punished, they should be made to answer publicly for their clear abuse of their public trust. They should not have made this unconstitutional program, and just as importantly, it should not have been kept secret from the American people.

10. It will be quadruply wrong if Edward Snowden is not pardoned. "Often the best source of information about waste, fraud, and abuse in government is an existing government employee committed to public integrity and willing to speak out. Such acts of courage and patriotism ... should be encouraged rather than stifled." Who said this, and where? A libertarian defending Edward Snowden in Reason, perhaps? Not exactly. It was on the Obama transition team's website in 2009, back when Obama was being lauded as a "friend" to whistleblowers.

President Obama should pardon Snowden and, probably, Clapper too--and, on the assumption that they had laudible intentions, everyone involved in the creation of the program.

And then President Obama should actually encourage a public debate, and Congressional vote, on whether PRISM should continue to exist.

Wouldn't that be something.


Who might you find in the lowest circles of hell?

I liked my answer to this Quora question so much that I had to put it here on my blog as well. I also used it to answer the question, "Why is murder a crime?" N.B. I do not believe in hell.

Murderers, particularly mass murderers, must occupy the very lowest circle. This sounds like a boring answer. Let me try to make it a little less so. I think many people do not understand what a horrific crime murder is. This is a shame. So let me explain it.

Frankly, the crime of murder makes all others pale in comparison. The trouble in understanding this is that murder is more "metaphysical" and so its evil, more difficult to comprehend. When a person is dead, nothing else happens to him qua person. Thus the crime of murder seems to have a short shelf life. It takes ten minutes to sharpen the knife, a minute to confront the victim and do the deed, a few hours for the body to be discovered, a year or two for the survivors to grieve, and then life goes on. For the murder victims themselves, many of them, the terror and pain last for only moments; is it really so bad?

But, no. That's not how it is. If you think this way, you probably also don't understand the economic concept of opportunity cost. The evil of murder lies not in the pain of dying and grieving, but in the enormousness of what it deliberately prevents: an entire life.

If you (wrongheadedly) think of life materialistically, as collecting stuff, then consider that murder involves not only robbing a person of all of his current possessions, it also involves robbing him of all possessions he would ever earn and enjoy in the future. The murderer as it were leaves you utterly naked for eternity. He's stolen your car, your house, your computer, your devices, your toys, your clothes--and everything you would have had in the future, too. That's a lot of stuff!

If you think of a life as a series of experiences, many of which are worthwhile in themselves--"peak experiences" and all--then consider that murder involves robbing a person of all the experiences he would have in the future. The murderer as it were locks you in a plain, windowless room forever. All chance at experiencing books, movies, relationships, food, etc., all gone.

If you think of a life as "love," as a collection of meaningful relationships, then consider that murder involves abruptly breaking every single one of those relationships, between parent and child, sibling and sibling, friend and friend, husband and wife. All of them, all at once, never to return. The murderer as it were restrains you from all future dates, outings, time with children and parents, all of it. He has stolen your power to enjoy your parents, your husband or wife, your children, your friends--everyone you know, everyone you will know, everyone you might otherwise have brought into the world. That is truly an incredible loss.

If you think of life as service, as helping others, then consider that murder involves preventing you from helping anyone else, ever again, in any way whatsoever. The poor, sick, ignorant, and powerless, whoever you might have helped, will not be helped, at least not by you. The murderer as it were ties your hands and makes you watch helplessly as others try to shift for themselves even when they simply don't know how.

If you think of life as the pursuit of meaningful goals, then consider that murder permanently and irrevocably removes a person's ability to achieve anything whatsoever. The murderer as it were chains you to a wall with everything you might want to do far out of reach. The murderer makes every one of your dreams permanently, irrevocably impossible. Imagine how outrageous it would be for someone to come to your dream job and then physically restrain you for five minutes from doing that job. Then imagine someone doing that for the rest of your life. That's what murder does.

There are, of course, some other truly horrific crimes, such as abuse and torture. But murder is worse than abuse. Many abused people go on to live good lives and give life to others. In the end, they would rather have been abused than murdered. Murder is also worse than torture. Think of the war heroes who were tortured even for years, who later went on to have happy families and achieve great things. In the end, they would rather have been tortured than murdered.

Stalin, being responsible for more deaths than any single individual in history, would have to be at the bottom. Hitler would be very close to the bottom as well. Just try to think of everything that these monsters robbed from the world. It's inconceivable.


Is it time to establish Internet user unions?

Since everybody and his grandma have gotten on the Internet in a big way in the last few years, the social influence of giant Internet companies has skyrocketed. Google, Facebook, Wikipedia, Amazon, Twitter, and many more wield enormous power over us.

We have given them that power. Their success is built on participation, and we willingly participate.

For those of us who have watched the Internet grow from the time we had to dial in to local bulletin boards, or log onto big mainframes, these are somewhat troubling developments. Facebook makes decisions that are deeply consequential to all of us, but without consulting us. They violate our privacy expectations and too readily share our information with people who might abuse it. Another example is Wikipedia. People who find lies about themselves on Wikipedia pages, who otherwise might have recourse to libel law, are often forced to participate in an arcane and often unfair system. Wikipedia also lacks any filter for their enormous porn holdings, while its representatives continue to tout it as a great resource for school children.

I could go on, but this is not just about Facebook or Wikipedia, or any one website. This is about participatory Internet companies that are so huge that their users--and the broader public affected by them--essentially have no meaningful input in their governance. But shouldn't they? We live in a democratic age. If we participate in a community, we expect to have a say in how that community operates; the community becomes, in a real sense, ours.

The patriots of the American Revolution said, "No taxation without representation." Now, participation and use are not exactly taxes, but they are obviously very valuable to Internet companies, and those companies are now in a position to abuse what is so freely given to them. Why shouldn't we say: no participation without representation!

I don't propose an online revolution. These are issues that must not be left in the hands of the state, wielding "the blunt instrument of the law." If the state were to address these issues, it would be making itself into an editor, and the state cannot edit without censorship. Rather, these issues should be left in the hands of civil society--in free associations of free people.

But civil society lacks effective institutions and mechanisms to deal with these problems. Let me propose one: Internet user unions.

In the 19th century, when economic influence consolidated in the hands of factory owners, the union movement sought to give a voice to workers who, individually, had no way to negotiate with their employers.

In the 21st century, we find social influence consolidating in the hands of website owners. Shouldn't there be corresponding unions of Internet users to negotiate with the websites that they participate in and use?

A Facebook User Union might call Facebook executives to the negotiating table about any significant changes to policy, or else face days of boycotts. That union's nuclear option would be, after an open, transparent process, to recommend that masses of users abandon Facebook for any number of competitors.

A Wikipedia User Union might represent the voices of Wikipedia's users, which have never been represented within Wikipedia's insular decisionmaking processes. They might influence Wikipedia to install a porn filter--or to admit that they have an "adult" website.

In addition to unions for participating websites, there could be unions for special issues. There might be an Internet User Union of Families, which represents the interests of children online. There could be scholarly unions, which blow the whistle on media companies and others online, who get facts wrong and who organize their users' collective influence to engage in their essential role of teaching. There could even be, simply, an Internet User Union, although they would have to think hard about what their goals are, precisely.

But let's be careful about what we wish for. These would be inherently political organizations. The consequences, at least in some cases, could be as troubling as companies acting on behalf of users without adequate user input. One can imagine a "rogue" union--like Anonymous, but bigger--coordinating cyber-attacks. One can also imagine openly political unions that use their influence to flood ideological opponents' forums with hostile comments.

To my mind, however, the best effect that Internet User Unions might have is to organize people to build things that are useful to everyone. I have been thinking about the enormous untapped potential of people working together online since before I spearheaded Wikipedia in 2001. The Big Problem, not really solved by Wikipedia itself, is getting enormous numbers of people to agree upon a well-designed system. Wikipedia would be dwarfed by a system that I imagine is really possible, one that is appealing to a much broader cross-section of the public than Wikipedia itself is. An Internet User Union might develop the idea for such an organization, launch it with many thousands of people ready and raring to go, as well as find enough funding to keep it independent and non-profit.

If you're interested in this idea, let's start talking about the philosophical, social, and broadly technical issues. This is something new. We do not want to go off half-cocked.