Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Regulating Our Sugar Habit
A tension that comes up often in ethical debates is between paternalism and autonomy. We want to protect other people from harm; but, at the same time, we want to let people have the freedom to do what they want to do. Obviously these goals can come into conflict. Consider laws having to do with wearing seat belts or laws requiring children to attend school. Such infringements on our freedom are often deemed justified--these seem like good laws to have. And this is true even if it means that people then don't have the freedom to refrain from using seat belts or going to school. But paternalism surely has its limits. Is this bill a case of paternalism running amok?
There may be rather strong philosophical arguments for extending things beyond food stamp reform. Foods that are very high in sugar and fat have severe negative health impacts and have very high costs to society (e.g., medical care costs, lower productivity at work, lower life expectancy, environmental deterioration, fewer people are able to serve effectively in the military, etc.)*. It might appear, then, that we ought to ban such products altogether. Surely many people would object to this sort of policy. But if we take paternalism seriously and we really care for members of society, then we've got fairly good reasons for banning such food or, at least, seriously rethinking our policies related to the food we eat.
Comments related to these issues are most welcome...
*These are all things that I've heard in debates about our food policy. You might be surprised to hear about worries regarding our ability to field an effective military, but this is something that's receiving a good deal of attention from the folks in Armed Forces recruiting in the U.S. This is a testament to how far-reaching the negative effects of our diet can be.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Undergraduate Conference in San Diego
announce the very first San Diego State Undergraduate Conference in
Philosophy located right here in San Diego. The focus of this year's
conference will be on Philosophy in Contemporary Life.
Possible questions addressed:
What is the purpose of philosophy in contemporary life?
How is philosophy informed by contemporary culture?
How can philosophy affect contemporary life?
What are some philosophical issues present in the contemporary world?
Keynote Speaker:
Dr. Noël Carroll,
Distinguished Professor of Philosophy
CUNY Graduate Center
Paper submissions:
Please prepare your abstract of no more than 150 words for blind
review and submit electronically, along with a cover letter including
name, title and institutional affiliation to sdsuphilconfug@gmail.com
by March 23rd. Applicants will be notified of decisions in early-
April.
Conference Contacts: mark.wheeler@sdsu.edu and paras.nikolas@gmail.com
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Statues and Lumps of Clay
We’re going to soon be getting into a really fascinating discussion in my Metaphysics and Epistemology course having to do with material object metaphysics. One fascinating case raises a host of philosophical issues. The “statue and clay” example has been discussed for centuries. Here’s how Carroll and Markosian spell it out in their book An Introduction to Metaphysics.
“Suppose that on Monday you bring home a lump of clay and place it on your workbench. Then on Tuesday morning you carefully fashion the clay into a beautiful statue of a snowy owl, which remains in your workshop for all your friends to admire... But suppose that on Wednesday you wake up in a bad mood and decide that you don’t like the snowy owl after all. So that morning you squash it back into an amorphous lump of clay”
How many objects are there on your workbench on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday? Does the number change over these days? In other words, are the clay and the owl the same thing or are they, alternatively, two distinct objects?
Ted Sider puts one of the problems raised by this case as follows. (This might as well be this week’s paradox. Please suggest a solution to this.)
(1) Before the sculptor's action, a lump of clay exists and after the sculptor's action a statue exists.
(2) The lump of clay continues to exist after the sculptor's actions.
(3) The statue comes into existence when the sculptor makes it.
(4) The lump of clay and the sculpture have different properties after the sculptor's actions: one existed before the sculptor's action, and one did not. (This follows from (1), (2), and (3).)
(5) If x and y have different properties at the same time, then x ≠ y. (This is called Leibniz’s Law - see here for a robust discussion of this principle.)
(6) The statue ≠ the lump of clay. (This follows from (4) and (5).)
(7) The statue and the lump of clay occupy the same location at the same time.
(8) Two distinct objects never occupy the same location at the same time.
(9) The statue = the clay. (This follows from (7) and (8).)
(10) Therefore, The statue = the clay and the statue ≠ the lump of clay. (This follows from (6) and (9).)
Of course, the statue can't be identical to the clay and also not identical to the clay. So what went wrong? Which premise(s) of the argument should we reject?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Love Thy Neighbor
Further, things are much more complicated than I'm making them out here. We have to also consider the relative needs of individuals. Suppose Kent loses his job and he needs some money to cover his rent; and suppose that a stranger in some other country lives in a village that has an inadequate supply of potable water. Does the fact that the villager is in more dire need than Kent matter? It seems clear to me that it does. This is part of Singer's point. We have an obligation to help those in dire need--wherever they are--and giving aid to someone that needs our help less is to spend resources in a way that's not morally ideal. According to Singer, it would be good, of course, to help Kent; but it would be better to help the villager.
I know that some of you do not agree with Singer on this point and I wonder why exactly? Why do you think our loved ones are more deserving of help than strangers?
One thing that I have to stress is that there's a difference between what you would do and what you ought to do. This is something that students often get confused by. I'm not asking something about my psychology--whether I would help Kent and not the villager. I'm asking about morality. It's a question about what one ought to do in this kind of situation. I might be overcome by sympathy for my friend and thus help Kent. Of course, this doesn't mean that I am doing the right thing.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
The Extended Mind
His example of a smart-phone is an interesting one. He notes that my phone stores memories (e.g., phone numbers) and serves as an "executive decision-maker" (e.g., helping me find a good restaurant). Chalmers thinks that my phone is actually part of my mind and not merely a tool that I use to form my beliefs, desires, etc. Indeed, his view is that a great many objects in one's environment are part of one's mind. Consider things like address books, Google, Facebook, GPS devices, and the various lists we make like "to do" lists and grocery lists. The upshot of Chalmers' view is that the mind "ain't all in the head."
I wonder what you think about his talk, his arguments for the extended mind thesis, etc.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Answering Singer's Call
MOVED UP FROM 2/9: I've moved this post up in the hopes that I'll get a few more suggestions...
Friday Paradox:
The Surprise Exam Paradox
Imagine that a professor provides the following blurb on her syllabus:
"In addition to the final paper and final exam, we will have one pop quiz (for 99% of your grade) on some class day between now and the end of the semester. (The topic will also be a surprise.) I won't tell you which day I am going to give the exam, but I will tell you this: I will definitely give an exam on one of the remaining class days, and on that day you will have no good reason to believe that it will be on that day, rather than some other. (This is just what it means for it be a surprise exam, of course.)"
You might object that what the professor has described is impossible. Consider how a sharp student might reply to the prof.
"Well, you can't give the exam on the last day of class, since then we would know that, there being no more classes remaining, you had to give the exam that day; and in that case it would not be a surprise. So we can safely eliminate the last day of class from the list of possible days on which you can give the exam. But then you can’t give it the second-to-last day of class either; for on that day we would know that you couldn’t wait until the last day-since then it would not be a surprise-and so we would know that you had to give it that day. But then, of course, it would not be a surprise. So we can also safely eliminate the second-to-last day of the semester as a possible date for the exam. But then you can't give it the third to last day either… (and so on, until all the remaining dates on which the professor could give such an exam are eliminated.) Therefore, you can't actually give a surprise exam!"
So here’s the paradox: Something is wrong with the student's reply. A professor can clearly give a surprise exam. What went wrong?
(Thanks to Jeff Speaks at Notre Dame for providing materials on paradoxes online. I've borrowed very heavily from this document.)