Friday, November 24, 2006

Really Fun Books

I think all of the books listed below are really fun reads, and perfect for a long trip or for a relaxing Sunday afternoon by the water fountain in the LMU library. The main criterion for inclusion in this list is absorption: I found all of these books totally absorbing (with a few exceptions, which I note).

Adventures of a Treasure Hunter, Charles P. Everitt (read 12/04)
Ballad of the Whiskey Robber, by Julian Rubinstein (read 11/05)
Conman, JR Weil (read spring '05)
Consolations of Philosophy, Alain de Botton (not completely absorbing)
Darwin Wars, Andrew Brown (read 8/06, not completely absorbing)
Down and Out in Paris and London, George Orwell (read multiple times)
Flame Trees of Thika, Elseph Huxley (read 7/06)
In the Heart of the Sea, Nathaniel Philbrick (read 10/06)
Going Solo, Roald Dahl (read winter '06)
McGoorty, Robert Byrne (read winter '06)
Telephone Booth Indian, AJ Liebling
Voyage for Madmen, Peter Nichols (read 11/06)
Where the Money Was, Willie Sutton (read fall '05)
White Nile, Alan Moorehead

Truth Evaluability in Metaethics

In simpler times, it was possible to identify where one stood on certain fundamental metaethical issues by finding out how one would answer the question 'do you think ethical judgments are truth-evaluable?'. Non-cognitivists argued that we should deny truth-evaluability to ethical judgments; cognitivists argued (largely in response to non-cognitivist attempts to deny truth-evaluability) that there are important reasons why it is wrong to deny truth-evaluability to ethical judgments. The simplicity of this manner of demarcating the argumentative space was nice, not just because it was clear-cut, but also because it highlighted some of the characteristic tendencies of each side: non-cognitivists were radical philosophers unafraid to question aspects of our ordinary practice of trafficing in ethical judgments (such as our ordinary practice of using the words 'true' and 'false' to evaluate them) in order to provide an illuminating account of what's distinctive about ethical judgment as such, whereas cognitivists were traditionalists worried about the possibility that revisionary philosophical accounts of ethical judgment may distort our self-understanding and thereby erode many important aspects of ordinary ethical practice (such as its use of the words 'true' and 'false').

Things are no longer so simple. With the widespread acceptance of minimalism about truth has come widespread acceptance of minimalism about truth-evaluability. Blackburn and Gibbard, for instance, two of the most important contemporary advocates of expressivism—a direct descendant of non-cognitivism—both insist that they think our ordinary practice of using the words 'true' and 'false' to evaluate ethical judgments is perfectly in order. In fact, they see their positions as attempts to explain why this practice is perfectly in order. (Sadly, one of the better ways to identify where one stands on fundamental metaethical issues today is to ask whether one thinks that a philosophical account of the truth-evaluability of ethical judgments is needed: answering 'yes' more than likely puts one on the non-cognitivist side of things, whereas cognitivism—once again a reactionary position—has become the view that no such philosophical account is needed. This is sad because it equates cognitivism with not caring to offer a philosophical account of ethical judgment.) Thus, it is no longer possible to distinguish opponents in contemporary metaethical debate by asking whether or not someone thinks ethical judgments are truth-evaluable, because everyone thinks they are truth-evaluable.

I think the widespread acceptance of minimalism about truth has had its benefits—for instance, it has revealed the central importance of truth-functional inference for ethical judgment, which has undermined once and for all many earlier forms of non-cognitivism (such as Stevenson’s and Ayer’s)—but it has also come with a cost. The cost is that we have lost sight of the honorific nature of evaluating a judgment as true. Minimalism about truth holds that the meaning of ‘it is true that Nat is an Anglophile’ is the same as the meaning of ‘Nat is an Anglophile’. And while this is surely true for many importance intents and purposes, it flat out ignores an obvious functional or pragmatic difference that exists, at times, between utterances asserted to be true and utterances merely asserted. The difference is that we sometimes reserve the practice of explicitly declaring an utterance to be true for utterances that we are particularly inclined to defend, were this truth questioned. And I simply do not think that this is true (sorry for the overuse of the word ‘true’—it’s unavoidable) of everything that we’re willing to extend a minimal notion of truth to. Consider the following pair of utterances:

(i) Nutella is delicious.
(ii) Nutella is not delicious.

(Similar pairs of utterances, invoked with similar intentions as my own, but eventually put to a different use, can be found in Crispin Wright’s ‘Truth and Objectivity’, Max Kolbel’s ‘Truth Without Objectivity’, and John MacFarlane’s ‘How to be a Relativist about Truth’.)

We can easily apply a minimalist notion of truth to either of these utterances. In fact, I think we’re especially inclined to accept minimalism about truth for examples such as these in which the honorific character of ascriptions of truth is conventionally lacking. But I think it is important to note that were someone to disagree with us about, say, (i), we wouldn’t, ordinarily, respond by declaring ‘but it is true that Nutella is delicious’. And we wouldn’t do this because, I think, it would entail treating (i) as possessing a kind of warrant that it more than likely lacks. Of course, if one took oneself to have good, perhaps definitive, reasons for asserting (i) and expecting others to agree with one because of these reasons, then I think one would be willing to declare ‘but it is true that Nutella is delicious’. And that is precisely my point: in ordinary practice, we reserve the honorific use of truth for cases in which we take ourselves to possess sufficient justification for our utterances such that, were the utterances questioned, we could justify them by reference to reasons that should suffice to allow for our interlocutors to assert the utterances themselves, without qualification.

I realize that’s a mouthful. But I hope my point is clear. My point is that with regard to (i) and (ii) we don’t normally think of ourselves as possessing this kind of warrant (which is not to say that warrant is lacking altogether: the kind of warrant that these utterances do have is that Nutella tastes good, or doesn’t, to the utterer). And I think that our unwillingness to apply the honorific notion of truth to these utterances reveals the lack of this kind of warrant.

To return to my original topic—the age-old debate between non-cognitivists (and their descendants) and cognitivists in metaethics—I think that our willingness to apply this honorific notion of truth to ethical judgments might just give us a new way to identify a substantive debate in contemporary metaethics. The question to ask, in order to identify where one stands in this debate, would be whether or not one thinks that this honorific notion of truth is applicable to ethical judgments. Those inclined to think that we often make such judgments without sufficient warrant to convince others to assert these utterances themselves, will deny that such an honorific notion of truth is applicable to ethical judgments (right now, this is where I am tempted to place myself). Those inclined to think that we often make such judgments with sufficient warrant, will insist that the honorific notion of truth is applicable.

What’s particularly useful about this question, I think, is that it allows us to move away from the question currently used to identify one’s position in metaethics: i.e., whether one is interested in trying to give an account of ethical judgment. That question makes cognitivists out to be lazy reactionaries, unwilling to offer a positive account of their own. My question, on the other hand, gives them something positive to argue for: namely, the importance of the use of the honorific notion of truth for ethical debate. That should suffice to get them out of their therapeutic armchairs.

I’m interested to hear what others think of this proposal, as well as where others stand with regard to the question itself (i.e., of the use of the honorific notion of truth with regard to ethical judgments).

[This post was originally published in Nov. 2005, but I deleted the original posting so I'm re-publishing it here now.]

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Thanksgiving Dinner




My family and I had dinner at the restaurant pictured in the top photo, just outside Wilkes-Barre PA. My dinner included, among other things, something called "Piggies". (It was not a pork product.) Check out the restaurant's ceiling.

The bottom two photos are of the owner of the restaurant. The middle photo is of a painting of her that hangs behind the cash register. The bottom photo is of her today. Sorry for the low res photos: I didn't exactly ask if I could take a close-up picture of her or her painting.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Portrait


I don't normally post photos of people, but I think I'll make an exception. It's of Ben C. I took it last weekend in East L.A.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Hold on, I'm coming


I'm looking forward to the In-N-Out burger I'm going to have for dinner tonight, as well as some of the old camp friends I'm going to see.

Food prop provided by Melody
Food modeling provided by Ben C.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Reader-Submitted Neon Photo!


Submitted by Jay L., from Brooklyn, NYC. He took the photo in Rochester ("Crotchinfester").

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The License Plate


I was in a car driving by the Courthouse metro in Arlington, Virginia tonight when we drove by a car with this license plate. Don't ask me how in the world I noticed it, I just did. It was magnetic. I immediately asked Sarah N. to pull over and I took this picture. The plate was on a blue sports car. I didn't get a good picture of the whole car, because of the low light conditions. Can you believe it?

Saturday, November 11, 2006

The Best/My Favorite Movie Soundtracks (OST)

I've long been a fan of a good movie soundtrack. I'm not talking about the music in the background, scored for the movie (although I like that as well). I'm talking about the collection of pre-existing songs that are played in the course of the movie. (Admittedly, this distinction gets blurred with Blacksploitation movies.) So I'm going to make a list of my favorites. Please suggest addtional titles, which I'll add to the main body of the text if I agree that they're among the best.

The Best/My Favorite Movie Sountracks (OST)

American Graffiti (1973)
The Big Lebowski (1998)
The Big Chill (1983)
Black Caesar (1973)
Black Orpheus/Orfeu Negro (1959)
Dazed and Confused (1993)
The Harder They Come (1972)
Jackie Brown (1997)
Lost in Translation (2003)
Manhattan (1979)
Match Point (2005)
Soundtrack Music from Woody Allen's Movies (1990)
Superfly (1972)
The Virgin Suicides (1999)
Wild Style (1983)

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Corn Maze



Some time ago, I said I would mention in a future post how I went to a corn maze. Well, I went to a corn maze out on 66; I set a new record for finishing the maze. It wasn't very hard to do.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

North Side Powell's Philosophy Section



This is the philosophy section at the North Side Powell's, on Lincoln Ave. in Chicago. When you combine this section with the section at the Hyde Park Powell's, I think you've got the best used philosophy section in the English-speaking world. I mean, what could possibly compare? Sadly, I'm not going to provide an exhaustive account of the merits of their philosophy sections, nor am I going to compare and contrast them. Suffice to say: they're pretty damn good!

Upper photo: the philosophy section itself
Lower photo: a small selection of some of their philosophy books, including a personal fave

Monday, November 06, 2006

Halloween


'Nuff said.

Leon's Bar-B-Q


Went to Leon's with Nat and Melody last night. It was a treat, and remains on my list of Chicago faves. Their sauce is just the right mix of spicy and sweet.

When we first arrived, Nat and I both spent a while trying to take a good picture of the beautiful neon piggy in the window. As much as I tried, though, I couldn't overcome the glare from the bright fluorescent light directly behind the neon light, so I didn't get a decent photo of the neon itself. Our rather excessive attention to photographing this aspect of Leon's drew the attention of one of the other customers, who rather politely asked Nat what we were doing. He responded with the honest explanation that we like neon signs and Leon's neon sign is quite nice, and she seemed to accept this as a reasonable explanation. When we went inside, the two Leon's employees' attention was being taken up by two entrepreneurs who were trying to sell them various bath and body supplies at discount prices. At first, the Leon's employees seemed rather uninterested in buying anything, but the entrepreneurs gave them the hard sell--which included saying things like "So you don't want to buy any because you don't use deodorant?"--and the employees eventually caved in and both some toothbrushes or somesuch. The employees then turned their attention to us and were overwhelmingly nice and friendly (notably unlike your average Harold's Chicken Shack experience). We ate our BBQ in the car outside, which was messy but fun. The lack of adequate hand-washing supplies made for a sticky ride home. If the entrepreneurs were selling Wet-Ones or Purell, they would make a killing.

Two additional Leon's notes:

(1) The Regal Theater directly across the street from Leon's was boarded up and had an enormous "For Sale" sign on it. I don't know if that means its days are numbered. I hope not.

(2) Michael Stern's review of Leon's at Roadfood.

Here's the rest of my Chicago faves list, as it currently stands. Let me know if you think I'm leaving anything off, or you think I'm including anything that shouldn't be included.

Chicago Faves

Al’s Deli (Evanston)
Carson Pirie Scott Department Store Building
Chess Studios
Crazy Man Records
Dusty Groove
Garfield Park Conservatory
Pita Inn (Skokie)
Poochie’s (Skokie)
Powell’s Bookstore (Hyde Park and North Side)
Ribs and Bibs
Seminary Co-op Bookstore

I need to find a bar/restaurant with a view of downtown to add to the list. Nat has offered up one suggestion, but it was closed last night when we drove by, so I haven't been able to check it out yet.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Getty Tomb




Top photo: Louis Sullivan's Getty Tomb
Middle photo: Daniel Burnham's gravestone
Bottom photo: Louis Sullivan's Kraus Music Store facade

In an effort to try and see all of Louis Sullivan's Chicago projects before the mysterious Sullivan arson burns them down, Nat and I went and saw the Getty tomb that he designed, as well as his Kraus music store facade. The Getty tomb was easy to find in Graceland Cemetary. We just drove right up to it. It was impressive, albeit rather straightforward. If you've seen pictures of it, you've seen it. Funnily enough, it turns out that Daniel Burnham's grave is right by it, and his gravestone was rather distinctive: it was an uncut rock with a plaque in it. (Actually, it looked like all of the big Chicago families' graves are located in this part of Graceland Cememtary: the McCormicks, the Palmers, etc.)

The Kraus music store was being renovated, so we couldn't really get a very good look at it through the scaffolding. But at least it's still there.

The Deepest Philosophical Divide?

I'm going to try and articulate an intuition that I've had for a while, but have never tried to state explicitly before. I think that a very deep, perhaps the deepest, philosophical divide centers on a question about the relationship between similarity/difference and interest. Here are several ways of articulating this question:

Can we formulate a coherent idea of types of similarities and differences that are completely independent of the interests that inquirers have in identifying these types of similarities and differences?

Are similarities and differences themselves dependent upon the interests of inquirers?

Are some similarities and differences relative to the parochial interests of certain inquirers and other similarities and differences independent of inquirers altogether?

Here's where I stand on this question: I think part of what it is for things to be similar and different in a certain respect is for inquirers to have an interest in identifying this respect. If, on the other hand, you think it is possible for things to be similar and different in a certain respect completely independent of whatever interests anyone would have in identifying this respect, then we disagree.

And here's a related divide: do you think that similarities and differences that are dependent upon our interests are somehow or another less than fully real? If you agree with me about the interest-relatively of all similarities and differences, then I think you should NOT think that similarities and differences that are dependent upon our interests are less than fully real. But, of course, some are inclined to think the interest-relatively of similarities and differences makes them less than fully real. But note that thinking that this makes them less than fully real presupposes that for a similarity/distinction to be fully real, it has to be completely independent of any interests anyone would have in identifying it.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Louis Sullivan


Chicago: the city that Louis Sullivan should have built. And now it turns out that what small parts of Chicago he did get to build are rapidly, and I think rather mysteriously, disappearing. This morning another Chicago Sullivan building burnt down. This is the third Sullivan building in Chicago to burn down in the past year. His house in Mississippi was destroyed by Katrina last September, adding up to a total of four Sullivan buildings that we have recently lost.

I don't know what to say except that three fires in a year is awfully coincidental. And this year is his 150th birthday, recently celebrated by the Chicago Historical Society. Some birthday present. I myself gave a talk yesterday that included a discussion of the right way to understand Sullivan's notion of the relationship between form and function (as opposed to Mies van der Rohe's understanding of this relationship). I assigned some pretty funny sections from Sullivan's "Kindergarten Chats" as background reading. I think it went pretty well.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Cheeseburger Pumpkin


Another photo submitted by Meredith.