By M&C Interviews Jul 1, 2007, 9:28 GMT
M&C: This month the Monsters & Critics Interview series interviews one of the intelligentsia's 'rock stars,' philosopher Daniel Dennett. I use the term 'rock star' because, despite the dumbed down and deliterate culture we live in, there are still a few public people whose sole claim to fame is their work on ideas, or ideas themselves. You are perhaps one of the few living persons whose resume includes being a philosopher, yet people know of you. More importantly, they argue over you. Some love and others loathe you. I know a bit of that feeling, as my own website full of opinions, Cosmoetica, has made me a target for the lunatic fringe. But before we sink our teeth into some issues- and touch upon things that few others would, let's presume a Martian has stumbled upon our website, and is clueless as to who Daniel Dennett is, and what he thinks and believes. Can you please give a précis of who you are, what you do, your aims and career to this point, and why we would want to interview you in the first place? And, I have read that you grew up in Beirut, Lebanon- what was it like pre-Israel?
Daniel Clement Dennett (born March 28 1942 in Boston, Massachusetts), is a prominent American philosopher. Dennett's research centers on philosophy of mind, philosophy of science and philosophy of biology, particularly as those fields relate to evolutionary biology and cognitive science. © Bettina Strauss / best-foto.com
DD: I'm a philosopher, and I've written books on the Big Questions: consciousness, evolution, free will, moral responsibility, and even the meaning of life, and most recently, religion as a natural phenomenon. But my approach is unlike that of most philosophers. I've always thought that philosophers who attempted to address these issues without first finding out what the relevant sciences could offer in the way of illumination were being intellectually irresponsible. And in the process of mining the sciences for help with the philosophy, I've found that scientists could often use my philosophical help with conceptual problems in their fields. It's been a two-way exchange, and I could only guess how the balance of payments stands. Happily, both philosophers and scientists take me seriously enough to disagree vigorously with me about some of my attempted contributions. As you say, there are also those who loathe me, and a few who make it a point of honor not to admit to learning anything from me, but I view that as sign that I'm unsettling them—which is what Socrates told us was the main point of philosophy. I'm often described as a cognitive scientist, and since I spend more time and energy working with cognitive scientists than with academic philosophers, and often teach courses in cognitive science, this is not inaccurate, but my academic training, such as it is, is in philosophy. For decades, however, I've been lucky to have mentors and informants in the cognitive and biological sciences who have informally educated me in their fields, and thanks to their tutelage, and lots of reading and questioning, I can hold my own pretty well in the fields I cover. I was born in Boston—not Beirut, a mistake that has somehow crept into some biographical notes. I moved with my family to Beirut when I was about 2 or 3 and lived there only till I was five. My father, with the same name (I'm actually DCD III, but I've never used it), was in the OSS and had a diplomatic cover as cultural attaché at the American Legation there. He was a historian of Islam, and very knowledgeable about the history and language of the Arabs. I have lots of "memories" of Beirut in my childhood— by now an unsortable scramble of genuine memories, memories-of-memories-of-memories, and things people later told me. Since I spent much of my waking life interacting with children who spoke Arabic or French or both, I must have been fairly comfortable, as kids are, with those languages, but most of it evaporated when we left Beirut. My mother never learned more than shopping Arabic, and her French was comically bad.
M&C: My first foray into the arts world was in poetry, and despite the online proliferation of poetry websites, the fact is that poetry is more irrelevant to modern society than ever before. There are, almost literally, more people writing poetry than reading it, which manifestly causes problems in terms of saleability. Yet, if poetry is obscure, philosophy seems to be almost dead in the public arena. Aside from a college course, if one were to toss out the names of a handful of dead Greeks, up to Schopenhauer or Wittgenstein, most people would not even be moved to shrug. Perhaps only Nietzsche would get a rise, and that only for the presumed Nazi connections. Why is philosophy (i.e.- ideas) so dead in these days? Is it because, as I define things, philosophy is ideas, but art is ideas in motion, and our society is increasingly frenetic?
DD: Yes, times have changed. It's hard for me to believe that Kant's CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON was a controversial best-seller when it appeared, but philosophy isn't dead today. In fact I think philosophy is making a comeback in something still recognizable as its traditional role as clarifier, provoker, persuader on the issues of utmost importance. Over roughly a century, philosophy became very self-conscious about its methods, hyper-cautious and technical and inbred, while it worked its way out of the excesses of its 19th century heroes. I think John Rawls' magnificently ambitious book, A THEORY OF JUSTICE (1972), showed the way back to public attention, capturing the imagination of academics in other fields—economics, political science, and jurisprudence, mainly—as well as politicians and pundits. When philosophers speak only to philosophers, the result is usually pretty picayune.
M&C: Thus, you seem to be assenting, that like other professions, a sort of incestuousness or hermeticism is the worst enemy of ideas in public. So, if ideas are not dead, how about their communion and exchange? Why is discourse and dialectic dead? Yes, there are blog wars and the like, but that's at pre-teen levels, and usually about the most ephemeral and unimportant things- politics, pop culture, etc. Really deep and profound things are not broached. Or, if they are, they are touched upon in such a dumbed down way as to be worthless. Recently, the ABC television (which in recent years has become a shill for all things pro-Christian) aired, on Nightline, a 'debate' on God between a former sitcom star, Kirk Cameron, and his vapid guru and two almost equally dumb atheists who offer a 'Blasphemy Challenge' online. These nitwits are associated with a bad video called The God Who Wasn't There, made by- what else?- a recovering religion addict. I reviewed the film, and these folks are as dogmatic as the religiots. When I've seen videos of you or other intellectuals debating on a topic, you are usually pitted against the Lowest Common Denominator representative of dissenting opinion, rather than a serious theologian. It's akin to having a Black Panther and Klansman debate race. Where have the old Firing Line Debates gone?
DD: Firing Line is not my idea of really good intellectual debate in public. Too many cheap debating tricks and interruptions. There is a widespread belief among media types that "talking heads" won't hold people's attention unless it is tricked out with lots of fancy graphics (sex and car chases, up a notch, you might say) or very short, hyped-up attention-spans (think The McLaughlin Group). But there are some striking disproofs of that. The Dutch series hosted by Wim Keyser, called "A Glorious Accident" was hours upon hours of high-level uninterrupted, gracefully edited discussion among some very serious people (plus Rupert Sheldrake, who didn't really belong there), and it was hugely successful all over the world. Bill Moyers has done some programs with fairly challenging content. Maybe the networks will risk some riveting thinking in real time as a way of combating the cables and the re-runs. I think it might work.
M&C: Generally, I've found Moyers to be a pedantic faux intellectual, but things intellectual are not even touched upon in most dialectics. It all devolves to feelings on something, not ideas. I've found many atheists, like theists, or believers in any other belief system, believe something out of a gut feeling, then stick to it and justify it no matter what contradicts their belief. What is this current obsession with emotion over reason? Children in school, who are flunking, are not left back anymore, lest their self-esteem be crushed. I say, let the morons know they're dumb and they may be shamed into trying harder. In the arts- and especially criticism, this is a killer. It galls me how so many critics merely speak of liking or disliking a book or film. Putting aside the game-playing and lack of real criticism to not offend potential contacts for their own future publication, the like-dislike axis of thought is ridiculous, for it is based upon a whole different set of criteria. As example, I can state that I feel a disconnect to the poetic corpus of Robert Frost, yet Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening is one of the most perfect works of art created, and I could write pages intellectually defending that claim. I absolutely love the movies Tokyo Story, by Yasujiro Ozu, and Godzilla's Revenge. Yet, I can intellectually differentiate Ozu's masterpiece from the cute, but childish, film I loved when young. Most people cannot. In fact- be it ideas, art, politics, most people simply play to their emotional predispositions on a thing, then justify it intellectually. And the more their position is denuded or shown as absurd the more they dig in. What is behind this, in general, and what, in recent decades, has accelerated this trend?
DD: Well, not everyone can see what is wrong with a specious argument, or come up with an original interpretation of something complex, but everyone can have feelings. As long as we stick to feelings, nobody can be exposed as making a mistake. But people know better; on the topics that matter to them, they don't settle for feelings. If you make me a car or a computer or, for that matter, a gourmet meal, you better be an expert, and if you make any mistakes, I'll let you know.
M&C: In the arts, I would say that Postmodernism has been the main culprit. Number two would be Political Correctness. In art, there blooms, instead of criticism of the idea or thing, a criticism of intent. This places greater weight on what the person attempted (or what the critic merely claims was attempted) than what was actually accomplished. Obviously, this plays into claims of subjectivity and objectivity. While there's little doubt that various –isms have suppressed the works of women and minorities through the eons, the attempt to totally scrap notions of excellence seems self-defeating. Manifestly it has unleashed reams of bad art in the last few decades- far more and far worse than the reams of bad art produced in the eons before, and most of it suckled at the tit of the NEA. My wife worked in science, and she has said that that field, as well, has seen bureaucratization kill all exploration and inquiry. Has your work been affected by these trends? In what ways? Are PoMo and PC showing any signs of loosening their death grip on Academia?
DD: I think both PoMo and PC are on the edge of extinction, and good riddance to them. It is disconcerting to find some undergraduates still mouthing the threadbare slogans of subjectivity and lazy relativism, so I guess there are still professors out there selling these wares, but they are not in fashion any more. Quaint, like Freudians and Communists. As for science, I think it's interesting that women have played a disproportionate role in pioneering new ideas. A few years ago I hosted a series at Tufts University, where I teach, entitled "Iconoclasts on the Frontiers of Science" and all four of the speakers were women: Lynn Margulis, Elizabeth Bates, Sue Blackmore and Elaine Morgan. What explains this? I think part of the answer is simple, and Janis Joplin said it (Kris Kristofferson wrote it): Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. Not being part of the 'old boy network' of grants and positions, women have had less to lose in taking huge chances with their scientific careers.
M&C: I actually interviewed Margulis and her son, Dorion Sagan, a few years ago. It was quite an interesting interview, ranging from Emily Dickinson to the origins of life. A few years ago I saw this documentary on the Weather Underground and the thing that stood out the most in my mind, after it was done, was that only in Academia, could people who were terrorists not be shunned but rewarded with tenure. And the arts world is just as bad: about a decade or so ago, I recall that when a former SLA member, Kathleen Soliah, was captured, there were many in the Twin Cities arts community (where I then lived) who cheered her on, even as they damned the anti-abortion and Olympic bomber Eric Rudolph. I recall even being onstage, one evening, after the host of a local cabaret declared Soliah a heroine, and stating that the only differences between her and Rudolph were political extremes and his greater competency at bomb-making. Similarly, one will find Leftists defending killers like Mumia Abu-Jamal and Leonard Peltier, while the Right alibis for a David Koresh. Yet, such stupidity is not limited to politics. A few years later, at a museum exhibit of 'The Works Of Yoko Ono,' my wife and I saw that same cabaret host looking at a blank sheet of paper with a dot on it, and being dumbfounded, declaring that Ono was 'so profound.' In short, what the hell is wrong with such people these days? How the hell can a university president justify hiring such people?
DD: Terrorists aren't rewarded with tenure in academia. Somebody with tenure might, surely, become a terrorist—or an embezzler, or a serial killer, or what have you. But I don't know of anybody known to be a terrorist or terrorist sympathizer being given tenure. Universities and colleges typically bend over backwards to avoid using political views as a qualification for tenure, but the chances of a university giving tenure to a public supporter of terrorism are about as slim as the chances for a proselytizer for NAMBLA (the North American Man Boy Love Association).
M&C: I'd refer you to the linked film, which was actually featured on PBS's American Experience show. Former Weathermen were indeed basking in Academic sinecures. On to some positives, though. I think that science writing is in an absolute Golden Age. Not only are great ideas bubbling forth, but the actual writing, on the page, is good, lucid, compelling, and makes good use of metaphor to appeal to both intellectuals and the laity. I think this trend started in the mid-1970s, with the rise of folk like Carl Sagan, Stephen Jay Gould, and later, Jared Diamond, Steven Pinker, you, and many others. Yes, there were exceptions, years ago- Loren Eiseley stands out, but by and large the science books of the first half of the 20th Century were snoozers, as if scientists did not realize part of their job was to engender public support for the exploration of the cosmos. Why do you think that the reviews of most books on science, history (think Daniel J. Boorstin or David McCullough), or politics always devolve down to whether or not the author is seen as correct in some assertions, and not whether their wordsmithing abilities are up to snuff? More PoMo? Is not the way an idea is presented or argued as important as its intellectual merits, lest the great idea won't disseminate? And, if science really is in a Golden Age, why are Americans so goddamned ignorant of science?
DD: I agree that this is something of a Golden Age for science writing for the educated public, and could triple your short list of good writers among scientists. Then there are the novelists who are deeply interested in scientific topics and write wonderfully about them: Richard Powers and Ian MacEwan and David Lodge come to mind, but older writers like John Updike and John Barth and Thomas Pynchon have also been touched by the muse of science. Why are Americans so ignorant? Probably because they were taught cookbook science in school and driven away from it. I was lucky to have a few inspiring science teachers (in addition to the bored old football coach who led us mindlessly through the biology textbook that censored itself about evolution). One physics teacher said "Science taught right IS one of the humanities" and so it is. Just the best sort of mind-candy, with lots of delights and surprises.
M&C: Yes, I still recall a great science teacher from my Junior High years- Ronald Wallenfels. To this day I still recall three incidents: 1) his excitement over the discovery of Pluto's moon, Charon, 2) his passing around of a pickled human fetus in class, and frankly discussing abortion, and 3) his inviting of a Vietnam vet friend of his to class, and the story that solder told of having to kill a Vietnamese child who might have given away his company's position. Too many teachers, these days, lack any of the vision and concern for students that he had. Instead, they are dull, and craven, and will not stand up to the bullies on school boards, nor dumb ass parents. Back to the main thread, though: what of the movement toward art as therapy? Does this abnegate the art and craft of art? Also, since real artists are naturally more empathetic and sensitive toward the world, this allows those mentally ill or unbalanced, whose problems may include heightened sensitivity, to delude themselves they are artists- and when they cannot match their sensitivity with talent, this claim that 'everyone is creative,' or that 'everyone is an artist,' does far more damage in the long run than the fallacious claims that the mentally unbalanced are 'artists' does to their egos in the short term. Some argue that everyone is creative, yet my wife says that such a claim is akin to claiming 'everyone is athletic,' simply by virtue of exercising one's lungs during respiration. This also leads into the noxious, 'everything is subjective' fallacy because, if that were true, the claim by the claimants would not even be worth making, since it would be unnecessary to state, for nothing would be worth asserting.
DD: I don't think this is a problem. Art as therapy is fine—we just don't have to buy the art! Experiencing second-rate art is one of the best ways to come to appreciate first-rate art. I think art historians miss a trick when they fill their lectures with slides of only the best paintings in any genre. I never appreciated how great some artists were until I went to quite a few second-rank museums in Europe and saw the works of their contemporaries. How do you tell truly great impressionism from shlock impressionism if you never see any of the latter? Similarly, I think it is wonderful that many not very talented people who love music sing in choruses and play in community orchestras, garage bands, and the like. (Count me among them.) I think in fact that amateur efforts in the arts are the best cure for what you call the "everything is subjective" fallacy. One reflects: if everything is subjective, why can't I draw [sing, play, write] like these high-paid folks?
M&C: I've often said that great art is hermetic, and tell young poets not to only study the greatest poems, but more those near great poems, because there you see the arc toward perfection, but the few flaws give you an 'in' to the mechanism. A great poem- or any other art, does not. Let me now gently segue into one of the areas you are most well known for- your atheism. Many artists seem to deny their own creativity, pawning it off on God, or some other force or demiurge. I call this the Divine Inspiration Fallacy. There is no Muse. For better or worse, it's all me, or you, or any artist. Comments on its existence, origins, verity?
DD: There are competing themes here: "ME, I'm the Artist, the Creator, the God-like Author of this work of art" vs. "I'm just the messenger, the slave to Art (or God, or the Muses, or . . .)" As Mozart once famously "said" of his musical ideas: "Whence and how do they come? I do not know and I have nothing to do with it." (He probably never said it, but it's a great line.) But then Picasso says Je ne cherche pas; je trouve as if he could leap like an angel from artistic peak to artistic peak. To which I reply: merde. All art is an inseparable mix of trial and error, some stupid and some clever, copying ideas from others, putting oneself in a position to see connections that others would see just as readily if you hadn't got there first. Nobody is completely original—or should want to be; we all build our little contributions on the efforts of others.
M&C: Yes, originality is overrated. Greatness can be original, Classical, or somewhere in the midst of the two extremes. That said, are you a strong (Capital A) Atheist or a weak (lower case) atheist? The former is an extremist and dogmatist, every bit as unhinged as religious psychotics, for one simply cannot disprove the existence of something that is immaterial by design. It denies not only deities, but their possibility. I argued with a couple of unhinged Atheists and finally got both to admit the obvious- that the only logical position to take on gods (or things like alien abduction claims) is agnosticism- or a lack of knowledge. As finite beings we have to state that we simply cannot know, due to our limitations. The latter is a logical person, and someone synonymous with an agnostic. Their brand of atheism simply rejects theism as an explanation. Atheists I find to have far more in common with Theists, in their obduracy and dishonesty, yet such stances are the norm in civil discourse- be it on religion or anything else.
DD: Gee, I guess I wouldn't want to be a capital A Atheist! It sounds so, well, extremist and dogmatic. But I find agnosticism about God to be not worth the trouble of articulating. Which God, by the way?—there are so many, and so different—as different as prime ministers and prime numbers and prime ribs. I like Katherine Hepburn's nice dismissal of the question (in an interview with Barbara Walters, if memory serves)—she simply dismissed the whole issue of whether "God" existed as not worth any discussion.</
