Dale Fights Back Against Literary, er, I mean, Personal Criticisms of Chesterton

Dale will be reviewing William Oddie’s new biography of Chesterton in the March issue of Gilbert.
Dale adds:

“A. N. Wilson has reviewed the book for the Times Literary Supplement. Apparently William Oddie has written reviews of Wilson’s books in the past and panned them thoroughly. So Wilson returned the favor. However, he did no favors to the reading public. His review indicates that all of Oddie’s points could be lost on the very audience that might most benefit from this book. After Oddie has methodically and thoroughly smashed much of the conventional (and wrong) wisdom about Chesterton, the reviewer simply repeats the conventional wisdom, as if it were some sort of rebuttal. Certainly the most egregious suggestion of Wilson’s is that Chesterton was a repressed homosexual. His information is third-hand. Otherwise There isn't a shred of evidence. But if he had bothered to give Oddie’s book a fair reading, he would not have even raised such a ridiculous charge. It is abundantly clear that this was not one of Chesterton’s temptations. It looks like this is the next battle brewing, now that we have dealt with the anti-Semitism charge. The most aggravating thing about having to swat all these gnats, is the distraction they cause. But the battle goes on.”

What have you done lately to promote Chesterton?

The ACS exists to promote Chesterton. YOU are the ACS. Together, we try to figure out ways to promote the work of one of our favorite journalists.

Ways to help: Become a member of the ACS. Give gift subscriptions to Gilbert for Christmas. Read Chesterton. Quote Chesterton. Try to obtain a Chestertonian way of thinking and responding to the arguments of the day. Use logic and reason and a heavy dose of humor. Start a Chesterton Society in your local area. (Anyone want to form one half way between Milwaukee and Chicago?) Join a local Chesterton Society in your area. Attend the annual Chesterton meeting this coming August in Seattle. Watch the EWTN shows of The Apostle of Common Sense. Order the DVDs for your family and friends. Invite people to your house and have discussions and debates along with the steak and potatoes, cigars and wine.

If you are a student, ask your teachers to teach Chesterton. When you write a paper, quote Chesterton. When pondering a moral or ethical situation, read Chesterton.

What am I doing? I'm currently working on my second childrens adaptation of Father Brown mysteries. After that...oh ho! A writing project for homeschoolers and high schoolers using the work of Chesterton to help students learn to write. After that...another adaptation, but not Father Brown...

What are you doing? Any interesting ways of promoting Chesterton? I'd love to hear about it.

Conversation: A History of a Declining Art

This isn't a new book, but I just read an interview of the author that totally explains the lack of decent conversations I was able to have this election cycle.

Whatever happened to polite disagreement? During the months leading up to Election 2008, the conversations of America's political punditry -- from bloggers on "Daily Kos" to partisans on Fox's "Hannity and Colmes"-- were often marked more by name-calling than by reason.

The conversations of average Americans didn't fare much better, with Internet comment boxes filled with vitriol and more than a few family get-togethers ending with shouting and door slamming.

Yes, we had shouting right in my own homeschooling group, and I expect more from them. Or at least, I expect them to be able to have a civil conversation. But I guess we aren't immune to "declining conversations skills syndrome" either.

I'm going to see if my library has this title, as it sounds very interesting.

Dale Ahlquist's Response to the New Yorker

Dale has commanded that I publish his letter in its entirety for you now. And when Dale sends an email, people respond.

So, here it is. In addition, thanks to Dave Z., I've included two quotes from prominent Jews who knew Chesterton.

To the Editor of the New Yorker:

Mr. Gopnik has besmirched the good name of the good Gilbert Keith Chesterton, even while sandwiching his comments between thick slices of praise. Maybe it’s just revenge. After all, Chesterton said, “New York reminded me of hell. Pleasantly, of course.”

For those of us who love Chesterton, we are always distressed to see him subjected to any vile charge. But we’ve gotten a little tired of the charge of anti-Semitism. He’s been absolved of that one too many times for us to count – from the tribute by Rabbi Stephen Wise to the official statements of the Weiner Library (the archives of anti-Semitism and holocaust history in London). Mr. Gopnik has added a new technique to making the charge stick – declaring that Chesterton’s admirers should not defend Chesterton against the horrible accusation. Hm. That is certainly one way to end the debate. I would meekly suggest that a better way would be for people to stop repeating charges that have already been dropped.

But we are still going to take Mr. Gopnik’s article as a sign of hope. Fifteen or twenty years ago, Chesterton was simply dismissed by the literary establishment as an anti-Semite and not taken seriously. Now he is at least being taken seriously before being dismissed as an anti-Semite. As the Chesterton revival kicks into high gear, we expect the trend to continue to the point where Chesterton is simply taken seriously without the obligation to mention anything about how Chesterton judges the Jews or how the Jews judge Chesterton.

In the meantime, we regret the unfortunate turn in Mr. Gopnik’s otherwise brilliant essay. There is something a little too desperate, too anxious in his attempt to prove that Chesterton is anti-Semitic. He is dancing as fast as he can to explain away Chesterton’s Zionism and his outspoken stance against Hitler for oppressing the Jews. (“I will die defending the last Jew in Europe.” What does it take to convince some people?)

Among the worn out arguments Mr. Gopnik uses is: Chesterton should not treat the Jews as if they are different because…well…they’re different. But far more troubling is his argument that Chesterton, the Catholic convert, has this pervasive nastiness woven into the very fabric of his philosophy. Whether consciously or not, Mr. Gopnik has broadened his implication to include the whole Catholic Church. Perhaps some future literary critic will be discussing Mr. Gopnik’s anti-Catholicism rather than Chesterton’s anti-Semitism. He can only hope that he will one day be considered so noteworthy a controversialist.

For now, however, the most important consideration should be of the following passage from Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man:

“…the world owes God to the Jews… [T]hrough all their wanderings… they did indeed carry the fate of the world in that wooden tabernacle…The more we really understand of the ancient conditions that contributed to the final culture of the Faith, the more we shall have a real and even a realistic reverence for the greatness of the Prophets of Israel. [W]hile the whole world melted into this mass of confused mythology, this Deity who is called tribal and narrow, precisely because he was what is called tribal and narrow, preserved the primary religion of all mankind. He was tribal enough to be universal. He was as narrow as the universe…”

Doesn’t exactly sound like the writings of an anti-Semite. Sounds more like someone who has a deep respect for the Jews. Also sounds like a pretty good argument for localism. Chesterton has thrown Mr. Gopnik’s main point into serious jeopardy. Either Chesterton is right to defend localism, which is what preserved the Jews, or localism is a menace and the Jews should have melted into their surroundings three thousand years ago. Mr. Gopnik cannot have it both ways.

Your servant,

Dale Ahlquist
President, American Chesterton Society

The year after Chesterton's death, the great American Rabbi, Stephen Wise, wrote:

Indeed I was a warm admirer of Gilbert Chesterton. Apart from his delightful art and his genius in many directions, he was, as you know, a great religionist. He as a Catholic, I as a Jew, could not have seen eye to eye with each other, and he might have added "particularly seeing that you are cross-eyed": but I deeply respected him. When Hitlerism came, he was one of the first to speak out with all the directness and frankness of a great and unabashed spirit. Blessing to his memory! (Ward 265)

The Statement from the Weiner Library:

The difference between social and philosophical anti-Semitism is something which is not fully understood. John Buchan, for example, was charming towards Jewish people he met, but undoubtedly possessed a world view of anti-Semitism. With Chesterton we’ve never thought of a man who was seriously anti-Semitic on either count. He was a man who played along, and for that he must pay a price; he has, and has the public reputation of anti-Semitism. He was not an enemy, and when the real testing time came along he showed what side he was on. (Coren, 214-15)

Thursday's Dr. Thursday Post: Infinity

It may be a stretch of the imagination to connect last Sunday's gospel (the woman at the well) with our discussion of last Thursday - or perhaps not. The woman's "madness" was shattered - as if a spell was broken - by the Voice of Authority who told her "Go get your husband". So deep was her restoration that she was able to bring others to that same fountain... Ah. But for today I shall resist plunging into the deep waters this imagery brings up.

In thinking of insanity, and Lent, I must bring to your attention one of the most unusual and perhaps most insightful views of a gospel event I have ever read. The event is the "Good Thief" hanging in crucifixion next to Jesus - an apologist defending Christ even on Calvary! "We are but suffering as we deserve - but This One has done nothing wrong... Lord, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom."

The insightful view is not mine. It is contained in the rich notes and the amazing play-sequence, "The Man Born To Be King" of Dorothy L. Sayers (DLS), a series of radio plays she wrote on the life of Christ. I don't have the text here to transcribe, so I shall merely give you a hint of her argument. She claims that the Good Thief perhaps took Jesus to be a harmless nut-case - a crazy man - YET - the thief still treats Him kindly, and "plays along" - only to receive a most unexpected reply. The scene DLS only hints at is the one I love to ponder: for behold, later that day, the Lord would tell the thief, "Nope, I wasn't nuts, but it was kind of you to think so. The charity you showed to the harmless lunatic You showed unto Me!" A strange, yet somehow most dramatic view. Read it for yourself.

I had previously thought I would write up a "proof" about GKC's interesting mathematical bit about the circles, but there will be more of this philosophical geometry before you know it, and I don't feel like making such a long detour today. So let us proceed. We have finished GKC's comments on lunacy and madness - which he expresses using the mystery of the circles: infinite in one sense (for it has no end) yet still not so very large (for it is no bigger than it is drawn). We have seen an omnibus labelled "Hanwell" and thought about those unfortunates who believe themselves to be chickens, or glass, or Kings of England, or Jesus. We have heard of the limits of literature, the risks of reason - and been challenged to cut off our own head if it offends us. What is all this? Why are we seriously contemplating insanity? GKC has a reason, and not merely a poetic one.

Click here to continue the adventure.

GKC tells us himself what he is up to:

I have described at length my vision of the maniac for this reason: that just as I am affected by the maniac, so I am affected by most modern thinkers. That unmistakable mood or note that I hear from Hanwell, I hear also from half the chairs of science and seats of learning to-day; and most of the mad doctors are mad doctors in more senses than one. They all have exactly that combination we have noted: the combination of an expansive and exhaustive reason with a contracted common sense. They are universal only in the sense that they take one thin explanation and carry it very far. [CW1:225]

We might take this as the bridge-passage, the musical riff that brings us from Heretics to Orthodoxy. Recall that in Heretics we saw a long line of men - writers, thinkers, philosophers - men whom GKC respects, even admires - some of whom he would readily claim as friends - and yet men with whom he is in bitter and utter disagreement: "a Heretic - that is to say, a man whose philosophy is quite solid, quite coherent, and quite wrong." [Heretics CW1:46]

Those men are the men LIKE the lunatics. Note he does NOT say they ARE lunatics! He is not pulling an ad hominem argument. He is talking about a general idea, dealing with the IDEAS of those men. What does he tell us about them? He says those are the men with the SMALL PATTERNS, even though they are "infinite":

But a pattern can stretch for ever and still be a small pattern. They see a chess-board white on black, and if the universe is paved with it, it is still white on black. Like the lunatic, they cannot alter their standpoint; they cannot make a mental effort and suddenly see it black on white.[CW1:225]

He proceeds to give an example (about materialism) but almost immediately points out that he is NOT making an argument about the detail, but about the generality. He links the flaw in the materialist view of the kosmos back to the flaw in the man in the asylum. It may be true enough. But it is so much smaller a truth than can be found elsewhere.

I hope you are reading along with me - and so you will readily note that it is futile for me to try to skip the example. GKC himself tried to do that. In one of his amazing leaps, he goes from that example to a stark generality of epistemology (the study of knowledge itself): "In one sense, of course, all intelligent ideas are narrow. They cannot be broader than themselves." [CW1:226] It is the paradox of words, the strangeness of a homework assignment like "Define 'infinity' and use it in a sentence." It hints at another mysterious line of GKC's which he put in another mystery: "Alone on earth, the Church affirms that God himself is bound by reason." ["The Blue Cross" in The Innocence of Father Brown]

Whew, let's stop for a bit. Do you feel stuck in a swamp of ideas? You are wrong. It's the brisk fresh air. You are at a peak of a mountain, and seeing a vista. It's at these points where you feel most congested, you are actually most free, and actually presented with a greater wideness of vision than elsewhere. So let us pick this matter apart so we can grasp where we were and better handle where we're going next. I can't do all the epistemology, I didn't bring that in my knapsack today. Let's see if we can deal with it directly. Let's read it again:

"In one sense, of course, all intelligent ideas are narrow. They cannot be broader than themselves."

The point of the paradox is we can handle things far bigger than our hands - because we have words which can reduce infinity to eight letters. (Count them: I, N, F, I, N, I, T, Y.) The strict philosophers will now throw eggs at me, saying I have committed the "Fallacy of Equivocation", confusing the word "infinite" and the idea "infinite". But I catch the eggs, and scramble them to make our lunch. They are not reading along. (Recall "poetry floats on the infinite sea"...) It would be just as adequate for me to cite the Summa of Aquinas (I Q10 A1) to help them out, since they like that kind of citation, it shows I do read those kinds of things. Ahem! But for us, this "paradox" is as simple as this mountain-peak. We're stopped here - and need to choose a path. But we can choose ANY direction - as long as it's down. (We are walking, you know; remember we said last week, "let it be solved by walking".)

The "fallacy of equivocation" is a kind of error in logic, in the use of words. How about an example? Here's one: saying "God is limited because he is only three letters long". But GKC is telling us there is the same kind of error in saying "we cannot hold the idea of 'infinity' since it is INFINITELY BIG". It is a paradox in reason itself, not merely written by GKC, to state without further quibble, that Infinity is narrow, and God is limited. This is not because of the things-in-themselves, but because of our equipment. (We are on a journey, we are NOT going EVERYWHERE AT ONCE. We are walking, and so are SOMEWHERE.)

I will try once more. (This one is great, and will shock any computer scientists in the audience.) Watch carefully, and I will use YOUR computer to represent BIG integers, including for example, the number of electrons required to fill the sphere bounded by the diameter of the most distant galaxies. Or, even bigger: the factorial of that number. Or even bigger: that number raised to its own power... that many times. Big numbers. BIG big numbers. HUGE numbers. (Even more than GKC weighed.) I can even use the computer to deal with transfinite numbers, the mysterious "aleph-one", which is the cardinality of the real system of numbers. And there are even others... Wow, look: before your very eyes, all those things are being communicated by what I have just written! HAVE I NOT COMMUNICATED THEM TO YOU? Of course I have. They are formally represented - as ideas. No, not directly as tick-marks on a sheet of paper or tokens in a box. (Please. Don't be silly. When was the last time you saw 1000 of ANYTHING? We gave that up about 5000 years ago, when the Egyptians began to write Ç to stand for "ten".) You cannot represent such gigantic numbers by that means. It is like asking how much God weighs. It does not have meaning. But you can communicate the idea of such numbers - which means you have communicated the number. The idea of such vast quantities has a meaning, and so we can accomplish the communication of that idea. And if we failed to say it in symbols of mathematics, we would resort to the symbols of poetry: I think of "Tonight" in "West Side Story":

Today the minutes seem like hours,
The hours go so slowly...
And still the sky is light...

That is what GKC is saying. In order to talk about anything, and reason about anything, we use something narrow. We do not have the infinite time or an infinite box of tokens to play around with the real thing, so we use what we can.

OK. Maybe it was futile - I ought to stick to my own toys - so let's resume with GKC, and I will let the high-tech philosophy for others to play with. Perhaps this next sentence will tell you the same thing, which is just GKC's own version of the very important Principle of Contradiction: "Nothing can be, and not be, at the same time."

A Christian is only restricted in the same sense that an atheist is restricted. He cannot think Christianity false and continue to be a Christian; and the atheist cannot think atheism false and continue to be an atheist.
[CW1:226]

Again, please read this carefully. You need to think about the simple sentences, not about some deep quippy insult or brag. You can put in any partisan or sectarian words you like, and it has JUST the SAME meaning and power. YOU ARE ON A PEAK of FREEDOM, my friend, not stuck in a swamp! Try it again. Then we'll proceed.

Now that you have a NEW tool, then, we shall actually approach this example of materialism - and its opponent, spiritualism. (We are using the terms rather generically here; materialism means there is nothing but material: nothing spiritual at all. Whereas spiritualism means there also exists an unseen realm.)

I shall quote at length again, because you are surely tired of reading MY words, and also because the "verbal fireworks" here are SO good:

...there is a very special sense in which materialism has more restrictions than spiritualism. Mr. McCabe thinks me a slave because I am not allowed to believe in determinism. I think Mr. McCabe a slave because he is not allowed to believe in fairies. But if we examine the two vetoes we shall see that his is really much more of a pure veto than mine. The Christian is quite free to believe that there is a considerable amount of settled order and inevitable development in the universe. But the materialist is not allowed to admit into his spotless machine the slightest speck of spiritualism or miracle. Poor Mr. McCabe is not allowed to retain even the tiniest imp, though it might be hiding in a pimpernel. The Christian admits that the universe is manifold and even miscellaneous, just as a sane man knows that he is complex. The sane man knows that he has a touch of the beast, a touch of the devil, a touch of the saint, a touch of the citizen. Nay, the really sane man knows that he has a touch of the madman. But the materialist's world is quite simple and solid, just as the madman is quite sure he is sane. The materialist is sure that history has been simply and solely a chain of causation, just as the interesting person before mentioned is quite sure that he is simply and solely a chicken. Materialists and madmen never have doubts.
[CW1:226-7]

(An aside: if you are wondering who "McCabe" is, you can read his chapter in Heretics CW1:157 et seq. Joseph McCabe (1867-1955) was a Roman Catholic priest turned rationalist.)

And while I greatly doubt that you can possibly be satisfied with my writing, here I must leave you for today. Please try to think a little about these things. Not about the math, or about the epistemology, the knowledge OF meanings of words and ideas - but ABOUT the meanings, and the ideas.

Still lost? When we think about our mother (let us say) we do not think about her picture, but about HER. But when we talk about her, we may show the picture, or use that six-letter word - but everyone knows who it is we are talking about, even if they have never met her or seen her. IN THE SAME WAY: when we think about infinity, we do not think about that splendid and funny little proof of the math dudes about "increasing without bound" or about a bottomless box of tokens - nor simply about that eight-letter word - but we use that word to talk to others about, as I have just done with you.

And this limited limitlessness applies even to the matter of God, which we do not narrow to a mere word of three letters, and Who has even more meaning and even more intimacy to us than our very mothers...

Onward to the next the peak, dudes!

--Dr. Thursday

Expelled: The Movie

I just watched this trailer and read about the movie. It is very intriguing and makes a good point, a point any thinking person in this country is asking. Why is it PC to believe in Darwinism and forbidden to NOT believe in it? Is Darwinism Dogma in our country? It would seem so.

The movie is being released in February, and I think it would be interesting to see it and discuss it, especially with teens and young adults.

Dr. Thursday's Post

Argument and Truth

Nancy Brown, our dutiful bloggmistress, has recently posted excerpts from a comment made on one of my postings from last year. I must say it is quite gratifying to see my writing causing discussion. Addition, set theory, poetry and mathematics and the pursuit of truth... so many topics for exploration. At present I am extremely busy, but there are days when I sit here and wonder how to select the topic to write about... It reminds me of this little passage:

"He was restless just then and drafted about into the commonest crowds. He did no work lately; sometimes sat and stared at a blank sheet of paper as if he had no ideas."
"Or as if he had too many," said Gabriel Gale.
[GKC, "The Purple Jewel" in The Poet and the Lunatics, emphasis added]

It is a good book for many reasons; among others, these words of Gabriel Gale, two of my favourite lines in all of GKC:

"Were you ever an isosceles triangle?"

and

"I often stare at windows."

So do I, GG; so do I. But this book is even more important because it, like every other one of Chesterton's books, is really a slovenly autobiography, part of which is an even more slovenly, and half-poetic, attempt to get at truth, and distinguish the truth from things which are nothing more than appearance.

Which has been a matter of real contention in some bloggs and other forms of media. Nancy Brown has begun to explore this on her own blogg, here and here and here. Some matters seem clearly to be about truth: "This is true, we MUST accept it, even if uncomfortable or annoying." Some others, just as clearly, seem to be matters of taste: "I like this; though I approve of it and enjoy it; but it is of no concern that you do not find it so."

How to handle such cases? How to discern truth from taste? And how to let someone know about what MAY be a serious matter? Is this mushroom edible or deadly poison? Are you a mycophile gourmet? Or perhaps you are allergic to them? Or do you have some philosophical reason against eating fungi?

In exasperation, one might wish to see what the Bible has to say. But alas - there is the tradition of the last 500 years for each to interpret the Bible for one's self - this a most unsteady foundation. Excuse me - that is not the right way to go, for my topic today as GKC said, is "not specially concerned with the differences between a Catholic and a Protestant." [prefatory note to The Everlasting Man] It is not even concerned with the differences between Christians and varieties of Pagans. It is merely my attempt to get a little further into the idea of difference - which I thought would make a welcome change from my discussion on addition. Hee hee.

Also it is well to consider this matter now, at the tail end of the Church Year, when we ponder the "Return of the King" and the promised final division of sheep and goats, all mysteries solved and all questions answered.
Read more.

It is significant that we can show biblical evidence to begin our exploration. For example:

On the one hand: St. Paul talks about how, when he was a child he talked and acted like a child - but he grew up and put childish ways aside.
But on the other hand: Jesus says "unless you change and become like little children, you shall by no means enter the kingdom."

On the one hand: Jesus said in praying one should not repeat one's words.
On the other hand: In Gethsemani, he prayed "using the same words as before".

But we are not here to sift these biblical matters. The important point, of course, in these, and every other such case, is the need to discriminate, to discern, to tell apart one thing or idea or word from another - that is, to divide - or (to crash our math symbols together) to find the difference. (But then division is really a form of repeated subtraction, just as multiplication is a form of repeated addition.)

People, even in the Catholic Church, have decided that the techniques of the Middle Ages are mostly boring, dull, and useless. It's especially funny to hear this from university people. But Chesterton knew quite well that those methods were not only amazingly interesting, but powerfully useful:

I revert to the doctrinal methods of the thirteenth century, inspired by the general hope of getting something done.
[GKC, Heretics CW1:46]

Yes, at that famous little cable TV place that I used to work at, people knew that the system was founded upon "Thirteenth Century Metaphysics" - simply because it was founded on reason. And as Father Brown points out (let us say it now in chorus): "You attacked reason, it's bad theology."

To proceed. The word "argument" comes up in such discussions. Someone is "arguing" over whatever matter is at hand. But how did those people of long ago argue? What REALLY happened? Does anyone know?

(Please don't bring up the "angels on the head of a pin" for now; we can do that one some other time.)

Well, first of all, the "disputation" was a very important part of education. The only remnant I know of is the "proofs" still introduced in high school geometry and seen in other branches of math. But it was an important idea in the Middle Ages, and good exercise, not just for future priests, lawyers, and physicians, but for anyone who wanted to use his brain to deal with reality. Moreover, it was done by very serious people, not for anger or malice or "humour" (what can that mean?) or even to convince the doubtful - no, it was used by people (often very friendly people) who were in deep, complete, and utterly full agreement with each other.

Are you amazed? You should be. If I had time, I would give you samples from some fascinating books on that era. One in particular which is quite amazing to examine is Gratian's The Treatise on the Laws (with) The Ordinary Gloss, a work dating as far back as 1170. But I can give a far more recent example, which is both instructive and amusing:

My brother, Cecil Edward Chesterton, was born when I was about five years old; and, after a brief pause, began to argue. He continued to argue to the end; for I am sure that he argued energetically with the soldiers among whom he died, in the last glory of the Great War. It is reported of me that when I was told that I possessed a brother, my first thought went to my own interminable taste for reciting verses, and that I said, "That's all right; now I shall always have an audience." if I did say this, I was in error. My brother was by no means disposed to be merely an audience; and frequently forced the function of an audience upon me. More frequently still, perhaps, it was a case of there being simultaneously two orators and no audience. We argued throughout our boyhood and youth until we became the pest of our whole social circle. We shouted at each other across the table, on the subject of Parnell or Puritanism or Charles the First's head, until our nearest and dearest fled at our approach, and we had a desert around us. And though it is not a matter of undiluted pleasure to recall having been so horrible a nuisance, I am rather glad in other ways that we did so early thrash out our own thoughts on almost all the subjects in the world. I am glad to think that through all those years we never stopped arguing; and we never once quarrelled.
[GKC, Autobiography CW16:187, emphasis added]

As you can see, these beloved brothers knew the DIFFERENCE. But then what is an argument? Why have a disputation?

Ever hear a smarmy educator burble on about teaching "problem-solving" in school?

Any clue what that might possibly mean? (Ask me about recursion another time; they do NOT mean recursion.)

Argument is a CLASSICAL form of "problem-solving". It is NOT about "convincing". It is not a form of "verbal fighting". It is NOT an expression of anger or of ME being right and YOU being wrong.

It is simply a very clever technique of GETTING TO THE TRUTH.

But of course, I have transgressed. I have mentioned religious things, and the horrid Middle Ages - and that boring detective-story-writing journalist and his nasty brother who was even convicted of libel. (A long story for another time.)

Ah - despite all this, perhaps there are still some readers left to me. They want to know more.

I have already used up quite a bit of my posting-space allotment for today, so I can barely summarise the technique here. Basically, there is a thing called the "circle" - which is an odd term, considering there are really only two players in the game. But it means that the two alternate in their turns to speak. (I here refer to the description in Shallo's Scholastic Philosophy.)

First move: The Defendant states a claim on a matter. It may be something perfectly obvious, or something deeply abstruse. But the Defendant must give any necessary details on the meaning of the claim, and give "short, solid arguments" (formal explanations using logic) proving the parts of the claim.

Second move: the Objector may attack either the claim directly, or the arguments (formal logic explanations) by which it was proved.

The situation then reverses, and now the Defendant may attack the various elements of the Objector's work.

And so on. Until there is a resolution, or they discover a lack of sufficient information, or (perhaps) it is dinnertime, or bedtime, or something else intrudes. (In Socrates' case it was the hemlock.)

One of the most important of the possible moves in the attack is announced by the word distinguo. (No this is NOT a Hogwarts spell, though it is a Latin verb in the first-person singular indicative!) This word means "I distinguish, separate, divide in parts". In argument it is used to break apart something (say a word) which may have been used in a general sense, and show that its various separate specific meanings apply in different ways - for the original claim may apply in some senses, but not in others - as it is required to find the truth, each of the various cases must be examined.

Yes, at the end of time, all our arguments, and all our searches shall be terminated, and the final DISTINGUO shall be pronounced: "For there is not any thing secret that shall not be made manifest, nor hidden that shall not be known and come abroad." [Luke 8:17] Then we'll get our papers back and see where our mistakes were.

But for now, as we work in joyful hope, let us distinguish something very important. We can never tolerate error. Error is error, whether it be mathematical or logical, or historical or theological. But that does not mean we must ourselves COMMIT ERROR by pointing out error: "And why seest thou the mote in thy brother's eye: but the beam that is in thy own eye thou considerest not?" [Luke 6:41] We must always bear love in mind - love is "willing the good of the other" - and so must practise fraternal correction in love. It is again that matter of distinction, of telling apart:

In the matter of reforming things, as distinct from deforming them, there is one plain and simple principle; a principle which will probably be called a paradox. There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it."
This paradox rests on the most elementary common sense. The gate or fence did not grow there. It was not set up by somnambulists who built it in their sleep. It is highly improbable that it was put there by escaped lunatics who were for some reason loose in the street. Some person had some reason for thinking it would be a good thing for somebody. And until we know what the reason was, we really cannot judge whether the reason was reasonable. It is extremely probable that we have overlooked some whole aspect of the question, if something set up by human beings like ourselves seems to be entirely meaningless and mysterious.
[GKC, The Thing CW3:157]

I have rambled on for quite some time, but perhaps you have begun to see something here. Let us argue in charity, with love, with our eyes seeking truth and not our own "winning" or glory. Truth is not a game score, and, since it is intangible, has the property Dante remarks on (in Purgatorio) that its DIVISION actually INCREASES its possession. Anna Leonowens put the same idea in rhyme:

It's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought:
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught."
[Rodgers and Hammerstein's "The King and I"]

Or, to use the modern words, it's a "win-win" scenario.

But let us always argue (and read, write, learn, teach, blogg) - in love, that is (as GKC said) with our BROTHER.

--Dr. Thursday.

A GKC Debate about Math

Back in October of 2006, our Dr. Thursday elicited some interesting discussion when he brought up Math, GKC and an Ignatian Asylum, after which a spirited debate ensued.

"Wild Goose", citing the One-Should-Always-Have-A-Healthy-
Skepticism-For-An-Encyclopedia-Where-Anyone-Can-Claim-Expertise
Wikipedia, stated:

It is not quite true that “When somebody [Newton] discovered the Differential Calculus there was only one Differential Calculus he could discover.”

Leibniz also discovered Differential Calculus, in a different form, arguably, a more durable and suitable calculus:

“The infinitesimal calculus can be expressed either in the notation of fluxions or in that of differentials. “

To which Dr. Thursday responded:

I should not have added [Newton] to GKC's words. It was in the 1660s (or so) that both Newton and Leibniz "discovered" calculus; yes, almost simultaneously, though Newton seems to have priority.

Alas, "a quarrel arose between the followers of Newton and the followers of Leibniz, and unhappily it grew into a quarrel between the great men themselves..." [The World of Mathematics 143, 286 et seq; Purcell, Calculus 156, 278]

And, if you're still following this (for full arguments, please see the comments section of the above referenced posting), "Wild Goose" continued:

You have brought up an excellent topic. The way I see it, the main point of your post was that math and science have their own fixed rules, while poetry has its own, due to the free will of the author or the creator. (“But when Shakespeare killed Romeo he might have married him to Juliet's old nurse if he had felt inclined.”) You are saying that there is only one calculus, while there may be a virtually infinite number of plays or plots along the lines of Romeo and Juliet, limited only by the author’s imagination. But I think that would be like comparing apples and oranges.

After which "DavyMax", a new commenter as far as one can tell that sort of thing, just today responded:

To simplify things a bit. Godel proved the essential intuitive nature of mathematics. But Wild Goose, you seem to be implying that intuition and imagination are one in the same. They are in fact quite different. Without seeing a proof I may intuitively think that there are infinitely many primes or that the Reimann hypothesis is true or the Axiom of Choice. However, this is because I would think, for instance, as I do, that the Axiom of Choice is in fact the truth. Clearly, this is quite different from writing a different ending of Romeo and Juliet (or preferably some other story I rather like the ending of Romeo and Juliet). Mathematicians do not intuitively think something because that's the way it sounds nice or because they think it's "cool." It's because they think it is TRUE. That is the ultimate goal. They may and often do choose to explore an idea because it is pretty or beautiful, but not because of those goals in mind but because they know from experience that the truth most often is pretty and beautiful.

This reminds me also of the line from V for Vendetta that says something of Artists telling the truth with lies. This is true in the sense that they are trying to express some inner truth through any means neccesary and we all understand what they're doing. Mathematicians are seeking rather than expressing truth when using intuition. Whereas, artists are expressing a truth already experienced when using imagination.

I thought I'd bring the whole thing to the fore because with a post that old, it's hard for people to jump back into the conversation. But I wanted to thank DavyMax for finding us and joining in the conversation by attempting to revisited this topic, if others are interested. Anyone want to respond to DavyMax? I thought he brought up an excellent point about Truth, and the difference between intuition and imagination.

The Object of Opening the Mind...

"The object of opening the mind, as of opening the mouth, is to shut it again on something solid." (Autobiography. Collected Works Vol. 16, p. 212)

and again,

A new philosophy generally means in practice the praise of some old vice.

Just keeping an open mind, as this article shows, tends to lead you toward a "new philosophy" which tends to praise some "old vice" and then you call yourself a "catholic Catholic"? I don't think so.

UPDATE: More of the same lack of thinking.

Gilbert Here: Conference Issue Rocks!

I spent the better part of yesterday immersed in my Gilbert, reliving the glory days of June 2007, the people I met, the conversations I had, the beer I tried...looking at all the glorious pictures and remembering the fun of it all.

If I have one regret, its that I mentioned that Dawn Eden stutters. Could you all forget I said that, please? I think I might have hurt her feelings. Sorry, Dawn. Your talk was fantastic. I guess the stutter took me by surprise, your pictures just exude this generous and zippy personality, which, of course, can go along with a stutter...oh dear, I feel I'm just digging my hole bigger and better stop. It's kind of like GKC, when people mention his voice, they recall how soft spoken and high pitched his voice was, and based on his looks, it just didn't go. That's the kind of Chestertonian comparison I wanted to make. And Dawn is just as wise and intelligent as Chesterton.

Front cover: I feel I must mention to anyone not in attendance at the closing banquet that the "Chestertones" were just a complete cover for Anne-Sophie Olsen to show off her tremendous violin talent. The rest of them were all hacks.

See the picture of Dawn? Doesn't she just look friendly? Don't you just wish she lived next door?

Aidan Mackey. What a gentleman. What a wealth of Chestertonian knowledge. It was so fun to be able to ask him "anything".

Dale Ahlquist. What a cut up. If you never heard him talk about Chesterton, you might wonder if he ever takes life seriously. But then, he's a true Chestertonian, and knows how to take things "lightly"--a wonderful quality.

More notes....when I return to you here on Monday.

Back home...

And one thing I noticed while traveling: there is a real need for Chesterton out there. So we've got to keep on leading people to read his work, so that they--and we-- learn (or continue to learn) how to think.

So many of today's arguments aren't really arguments. They aren't reasoned responses to actual differences, they are opinions thrown left and right and no one listening to anybody else because they don't agree. And if one side can't "win" then frustration abounds.

An argument doesn't always mean that we'll get someone to come around to our point of view. An argument, first of all, is listening to what the other person has to say. Secondly, thinking about what that person has to say. Then responding to that person in a calm and peaceful way. "I understand that you are saying this....but have you ever thought about that?"

So many of today's arguments are just "You can't possibly be sane! Anyone who thinks that is crazy! This is the only way that anybody should think about x!" and reasonableness, we can see, is not employed.