08.20.08
Posted in Environment, Philosophy at 8:21 am by Anthony
Six years ago when I was reflecting on the consequences of reaching half a century, I decided that henceforth all work on my house would be done with the aim of reducing maintenance to a minimum.
The first project was to get rid of the likeable but aging and difficult to maintain wooden garden shed. Once the sparkling new, galvanised steel, zero maintenance shed had been installed, I set about demolishing the old but much loved version.
I started by knocking out the back wall and breaking a window but then got tired and went in for a cup of tea. That was about five years ago and the shed is still there.
My first second thoughts about demolishing the shed came when I noticed that my cat Moggy, (Yes, I know, I know, very original) and some of his pals had commandeered it as a ‘summer house’. Situated at the edge of his territory it also made a good frontier post to fend off intruders.
Later, I read an article that described the best conditions for the proliferation of the beautiful and useful Ladybird. The old shed fitted the bill to a T. And I had indeed observed a noticeable increase in the population of this attractive creature.
Then one summer I noticed a group of wasps apparently ‘eating’ the whitened and decaying wood. Straight onto the ‘magic’ Google for enlightenment to learn the following;
“Unlike bees, the wasps have no wax producing glands and therefore cannot construct wax combs. To get around this they use paper which they make from wood pulp, just like we make paper from wood pulp. The wasps use their powerful jaws to scrape wood from trees and fence posts, this is then chewed up and mixed with saliva and then spread out to make combs.”
In addition, I learned that an abandoned shed like mine was an ideal shelter spot for fertilised female wasps to sit out the winter.
Over time, the roof of the shed developed a slump, the door would no longer close and the climber plant (Woodbine, I think) that I planted at the side has made its way through the broken window and is getting a firm grip on the roof.
I now look on the slowly decaying structure, not as a shed but almost as a living creature that has become part of nature itself. A creature that has struck a deal with the cats, ladybirds, wasps and all the countless other creatures that live in and off its bounty.
“Convince the human that I’m still useful, that I’ll provide shelter and food for you. That way I can live out my life to its full and natural end.”
By times, as I lounge in my seat looking at this ‘work of art’ created by nature, this inanimate object that has metamorphosed into a ‘living creature’ I think to myself:
“Anthony, the real reason you didn’t finish the job is because you’re a lazy fecker and now you’re trying to bullshit your way out of it.”
Opinion by return post please.
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08.11.08
Posted in Philosophy at 7:32 am by Anthony
A few years ago I attended a public lecture in University College Cork. The subject matter of the lecture was “What is Philosophy?” and it was delivered by a long serving and highly respected lecturer in philosophy.
I was surprised; therefore, when this ‘philosopher’ started off his lecture by saying that whenever he was asked what he worked at he always replied that he was an academic or a college lecturer. He never referred to himself as a philosopher because he felt it made him sound like he was making unwarranted claims about himself.
The ‘philosopher’ AC Grayling, incredibly, holds the same view. It’s worth quoting directly from his book (The Reason of Things, Page 219).
“I do not say ‘I am a philosopher,’ for a certain temerity attaches to the claim – a claim which, because it seems to assert too much, does not sound as straightforwardly and unpretentiously descriptive as ‘I am a barrister/soldier/carpenter.’
The title of philosopher, especially as denoting Socrates, Aristotle, Descartes, Spinoza, Kant and other great thinkers in history, is an honorific which can only properly be applied by third parties and only to those who merit it. And such need not necessarily be – indeed, may well not be – academic teachers of the subject.”
This, to be blunt, is rubbish - both these men are philosophers and they shouldn’t be shy about admitting so to the world. The question is – Why are they so reluctant to publicly state that they are philosophers?
Personally, I think it has a lot to do with the medieval philosophical ‘how many angels can dance on the head of a pin’ phenomenon of the scholastic philosophers. In an absurd and doomed effort to reconcile reason with the superstitions of religion these ‘philosophers’ did untold damage to the reputation and credibility of the profession.
But this attitude to philosophy is only a relatively recent development. For almost all of human civilisation philosophy was a highly respected activity and philosophers were much sought after by heads of state and society in general.
Grayling’s reluctance to describe himself as a philosopher in the same way that a barrister, soldier or carpenter would describe themselves simply doesn’t make sense.
When a person qualifies as a barrister or carpenter they become a barrister or carpenter. When a philosopher qualifies as philosopher he becomes a philosopher. Indeed, a person can be a philosopher without any qualifications whatsoever.
Nor does it make sense for Grayling to put himself down by making unfair comparisons to great philosophers like Aristotle, Kant and Descartes. If he was a politician would he refute his profession on the basis that he wasn’t a great politician like Churchill or Gladstone? If he was a scientist would he refute himself on the basis that he wasn’t one of the greats like Einstein or Newton? – I don’t think so.
I also disagree with Grayling’s assertion that the title of philosopher is an honorific one that can only be applied by third parties and only to those who merit it.
I believe that every human is a philosopher to some extent; that philosophy is natural to humans simply because we have a brain that allows us to be aware of and reflect on our own existence. Grayling himself hints at this when he says that even great philosophers need not be academic teachers of the subject.
For me, there are four principal types of philosopher.
Universal: Any human that has ever looked up at the stars and wondered what might be out there, any human who, usually after a major event in their lives like birth or death, wonders what life is all about, is a philosopher.
Academic: An academic philosopher is not just someone who has achieved a high level of scholarly qualifications but who can also handle the challenge of teaching a wide range of philosophic concepts to a demanding and questioning group of students.
Natural: A natural philosopher is someone who, without any formal training whatsoever, can comfortably engage in deep discussions on a wide range of subjects like religion, politics and philosophy itself. I have met a number of natural philosophers in my life and it has always being an enjoyable and rewarding encounter.
Great: A great philosopher is someone who has made a significant contribution to humanity’s struggle to understand, cope with and ultimately find happiness within the particular existence that we find ourselves in.
I qualify as a philosopher under the headings ‘Universal’ and ‘Natural’. I do have a college degree in the subject but have little capability (or urge) to teach as an academic.
AC Grayling certainly qualifies under Universal, Academic and Natural. He also has the potential to be a great philosopher in light of his brilliant and easily understood writings that have made such a contribution to bringing philosophy out from behind the gates of academia.
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AC Grayling
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