Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts

15 October 2009

The Right to be Right

This is a blog post for Blog Action Day 2009 on the topic of climate change.

Environmental action often entails a change in lifestyle, most of which involves some inconveniences. For example, sorting out recyclables from trash and bringing them to the nearest recycling bin necessitates hassle. Buying compact fluorescent lamp which are more energy saving will result in a higher initial cost. Spending a night without air-conditioning will lessen the comfort of your sleep.

These undertakings of an individual alone have hardly an impact on the environment at all. The consequent reduction in carbon footprint is a drop in the entire ocean of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Alright, sure, there is the typical argument that the collective effort can have a marked change - as exemplified by events such as Earth Hour - but this argument does not induce much motivation in many people. This is an unfortunate truth - that a cumulative reward at the cost of compromise in personal lifestyle, particularly when the reward demands others to do the same, is not embraced by most people - and the past calls for environmental efforts have demonstrated that. Moreover, it is a vicious cycle: if most people does not want to take action, then there will be no collective benefit, and thus there is no practical incentive for the individual to be green, thereby sinking the situation into a deeper inertial hole. Some say it is up to governments to take action, but let us not forget that the government is subjected to people's desires, so there is only limited wiggling space for them to impose environmental restrictions on the people.

Such a dilemma reminds me of a course I took during my last semester at NUS. It was a geography module called Environmental Sustainability (module code: GE3239), and the lecturer once mentioned that Singapore unsheathes the argument that the effects in restricting our emissions is so negligible on the global scale that it matters very little how much we try to quell our carbon output. This is an iconic pragmatic argument, and it is not wrong in that perspective. After all, that bit Singapore contributes is truly minimal and it is the grand total of greenhouse gases (GHGs) in the atmosphere that counts. The climate does not go looking at the per capita emission.

Then is there any reason for the individual, which, in such a position, differs not so much from Singapore in the example above, to go green? There certainly is: environmental action grants the person a moral right to, at the very least, make a environmental statement. In the end, climate change is going to affect us all in some ways or other, and it would be hypocritical for one to be concerned if he does not observe and reduce his carbon footprint. Regardless of how small one's contribution is to the environmental cause on the large picture, in doing so he allows himself to say that he is concerned, that something has to be done, that it is unfair for the US to have such disproportionately high carbon output. One's effort will not make any practical difference if others do not do their part, but it gives him the right to be right.

Making an effort for the environment does not entail an upheaval in lifestyle. Steps can be small, little at a time, a bit here and there, and all in all one can shed his carbon footprint by a significant share. Below is a suggested list of a few actions that you can do - all of which I personally do - to slash your carbon emissions. These actions are not the typical feel-good slacktivisms such as Earth Hour or clicking one button on Facebook.

  • Go vegetarian or semi-vegetarian. Meat turns out to be a major carbon source, and cutting it not only benefits the environment, but also your health. Join the ranks of Albert Einstein, Sir Paul McCartney, Christian Bale and Carl Lewis.
  • Bring an environmental bags or regular plastic bags when shopping. In addition, I always tuck a small, folded plastic bag into a compartment in my sling pouch or backpack, in case I wanted to buy something on the spot.
  • Turn off the computer monitor, put the computer to standby or hibernate/shut down, as opposed to letting it idle off when you need to leave it for a period. How long a period it should be is up to you; for me, it is roughly one minute, five minutes and fifteen minutes respectively.
  • Try without the air-conditioner. It is a major electricity hog, and most people do not need it. And there are some nights, especially rainy ones, in which a fan is more than sufficient. You do not have to swear it off - Singapore's heat can be notorious - but how about raising the threshold of your heat tolerance?

These actions address more than mere climate change, which is the topic of this year's Blog Action Day. Certainly, climate change is one glaring symptom of this environmental disease, but other environmental issues (which may share the same root cause as climate change) ought not be neglected. Examples: depleting resources, vanishing biodiversity, destruction to coastal habitats, overfishing; and the actions listed above do address these issues and more. So do take heart and take action.

30 July 2009

The Paradox of Thio Li-Ann's Anti-Gay Stand

(Disclaimer: this post is not a writeup arguing for gay rights. Neither is this an opinion concerning Thio's withdrawal. It won't even be a rebuttal of her arguments. Any attempt at these is merely a repetition of what many others have written. Also, what is argued below is my own guesswork, and anyone with a better idea are welcomed to correct me.)

One of the recent news that has been hitting the headlines online is Thio Li-Ann's withdrawal from New York University as a visiting professor due to two reasons: low enrolment for her class and a hostile environment, both of which probably stemmed from her public anti-gay stand. Her arguments against gay rights were often ridiculed by many netizens for their gaps in logic. In fact, her parliament speech regarding the repealing of section 377A were so flawed that even the conservative Straits Times, often accused of filtering forum letters in favour of opponents of gay rights, has an editorial which lambasted her (here is an article commenting on this).

Yet, she held on to them and insisted on her opposition to gay rights. I find this situation rather curious, because she, being a professor of law, ought to either have an excellent argument for her case, or see that she is wrong. This paradox has baffled me for quite some time, but I think I've figured out why she stuck to her weak arguments: it is a consequence of trying to argue in Singapore's secular setting but retaining her stand that comes from her personal belief (and interestingly, she has attacked Singapore's secularism recently with a straw-man argument).

I remember reading an editorial at the start of this year in either Science or Nature (can't remember which) - considered by many as the top two journals in science - in which the author argues that the Obama should appoint scientists in his administration because they are trained to make "correct" judgements. His point is that a proper science training should teach the scientist not to favour, assume or even expect a particular conclusion before the experiment. A scientist, in positions of power, will therefore analyse the situation objectively based on all avaliable data and make a stand based on his analysis. This will ensure that the decision made is the best possible for the country. He contrasts this with lawyers, which are trained to pick up a particular stand and construct arguments to support it. This is, of course, rather an unfair opinion against lawyers because there is a difference between one's derivation of his stand and one's academic training, but his underlying assumption about decision-making is clear: in choosing a stand, we should analyse the arguments before making a conclusion.

There is also the joke that puts economists in the same bad shoes. It goes like this: a mathematician, a statistician and an economist were at a job interview. They were asked what two plus two is. The mathematician says, "four", and the statistician says, "on average, four". The economist, on the other hand, surreptitiously asks the interviewer, "well, what do you want it to be?" The punchline is about the wrong way of making a stand: choose the conclusion you want, before finding arguments to prop it up (and ignoring evidence that contradict that stand).

So are the arguments of the opponents to gay rights formed as such? Assembled top-down from the conclusion instead of constructed bottom-up from basic principles and evidence? Are these people like the accused lawyer in the editorial or the economist in the joke? Not necessary: they may have a different premise. Gay right proponents may have the premise that there ought to be no discrimination based on sexuality. But opponents to gay rights, such as those who have been in the spotlight recently like Thio, may have the premise that goes: "the Bible is right". If we start from this premise, it is naturally a conclusion that being gay is wrong.

Now, all this is fine and good if one applies that conclusion to oneself, but the problem comes when one tries to apply the conclusion to others, on a society-wide setting. There will inevitably be contradictions which springs from differences in premises. So in a country like Singapore we practise secularism - meaning all arguments that are forwarded in society must either be independent of system of belief or applies to all systems of belief. As a result their arguments will no longer work, because not everyone can accept the premise that "the Bible is right". Consequently, these opponents try to find an argument that is founded upon secular premises to support their stands so they can push their ideas upon the society.

But that is precisely what the economist did.

26 September 2007

The Feeling of the Present and of History

A drama is unfolding in Burma as I write. Monks and nuns, the most respected class of people in the Burmese society, are in open defiance against the ruling junta. Could it be just like two decades ago, when similar incidents culmulated in Aung San Suu Kyi's electoral victory? Right now, as it unfolds before the world's eyes, no one can guess where it will lead.

There is something that appears fundamentally different between knowing an event in history and an event unravelling in the present. In 1988, students took to the streets. Military suppressed them. Thousands were killed. It triggered elections. Aung San Suu Kyi won. The military refused to recognise election results. Their rule continued. That is history. It is as I know it. I was too young then to know it as it unfolded. I read it later in my life. I read it, as a piece of history, compressed and summarised. Time flowed in different beats: unimportant days were swept away in words no longer than a few seconds, and moments of importance were granted paragraphs after paragraphs that took minutes to read. The scaling of time when cast into words is twisted out of linear proportion.

But with the present, time is time. It is not scaled. It is not contorted. It is not shortened to slim boring periods and lengthen to fit critical events. One day is one day. One week is one week. One month is one month. The present becomes alive. Yesterday nuns took to the streets. Last week monks did so. Suppose a revolution were to come in a month's time. This month will not be a day long. It will not be a week long. It will be a month long. A month is a month. It is not like pages of a history book. Even if nothing goes on during this one month, time plods on unrelentlessly, unceasingly, unhurriedly.

That is, perhaps, why events unfolding as I read in the newspapers feel more real than events of the past. When I read an article about John Lennon's death there is a detached feeling about the whole incident. It is not as if I have not felt the loss of a great singer, but this loss feels muted. It feels as if the concrete of history has solidified. But when Luciano Pavarotti died, the concrete of history may have been laid, but it is still wet. Maybe this is the reason why people often say that times are getting more and more difficult.

Where will the events in Burma head from here? Will it be like two decades ago, a repetition of history? Or will a fresh chapter of democracy enter Burma's life? There is no flipping of pages to the important future events this time.

Feels so real, doesn't it?

30 March 2007

Free Will (Part III½)

(This entry is some sort of a summarised version of my current thoughts on free will. The previous three entries can be accessed here: Free Will (Part I), Free Will (Part II), and Free Will (Part III). It is a comment to another blog entry, and it doesn't really add much new stuff, hence the III½ status.)

The following post is an edited comment to a blog entry in the PH1101E Reason and Persuasion blog. The original blog entry discusses a book review talking about the criticism of René Descartes' belief in dualism. Comments on the blog is part of the assessment for the module.

I am not going to comment on Damasio's criticism on Decartes, or Dennett's review on it, but my interest lies on its consequence - that is, the consequence of the inseparability of the mind and the body - more specifically, its effect on the arguments for free will, a subject which I have long been interested in.

One of the strongest arguments for the existence of free will is dualism, that the mind is separate from the body, and is not subjected to physical laws that our bodies experience. See, for example, anomalous monism. And the reason for free will hiding in dualism is due to the nature of science.

Our physical laws are either deterministic (such as Kepler's and Newton's Laws) or probabilistic (for example, quantum mechanics and theories of open systems) by nature. While we still do not know how our brain behaves, it is reasonable to assume that whatever laws that govern the physical processes in our brains has to be of this nature. In such a situation, how can we have free will then, if "choice" is either a victim of causality or total randomness? What is so special about our brains that admits free will? If the equations that govern the motion of our neurons is the same as those governing the electrons in my laptop, what is stopping my Windows from displaying a blue screen of death proclaiming "I think, therefore I crash"?

This is where dualism comes in a valiant attempt to rescue free will from the onslaught of science. If our choice-making mechanism is not subjected to physical laws, then perhaps we will then have free will, because our choices are not totally consequences of things we've done before or something so random that it is out of our control.

This dualism concept, however, does not sit well with me. On top of the "ghost in a box" problem described in the final paragraph of this post, I find that dualism explaining free will is just inventing something up to satisfy our need to have control of our choices. We can very well do away with it without sacrificing any knowledge of our world. This is an Occam's Razor approach to knowledge, but that is a philosophy I adopt.

I personally want to believe that I have free will, but I recognise that Nature does not care about what we like or not. She just is, and if dualism (and hence free will) does not exist, we do not have a choice.

16 March 2007

On Descartes' Scepticism

The following post is an edited comment to a blog entry in the PH1101E Reason and Persuasion blog. The original blog entry discusses a few general ideas about René Descartes' Meditations I. Comments on the blog is part of the assessment for the module.

I shall attempt to discuss the question

Is Decartes' skepticism interesting?


To me, his scepticism is certainly interesting. Considering the "what if I'm dreaming" part, it is indeed a question worthy of pursuit even if it may not ultimately fetch an answer. This "what if I'm dreaming" is just like the "brain in a vat" situation, or now also "the Matrix" situation. It satisfies man's desire to know more about himself and the world. Such scepticism challenges established notions and ideas most people have assumed to be true, and only by knowing that they may be flawed can we proceed on to find the "truth". (After all, if humans have never asked this "what if I'm dreaming" question, we would not have the movie "The Matrix"!)

Yet perhaps the level of scepticism Decartes is applying to his analysis may be too extreme. After all, not all knowledge can be attainable and not every question can be answered. For example, the simple question of "does God exist?" is probably one which cannot be proven concretely to be true or false. If one seeks to find answers in such a manner, throwing out an idea once there is something doubtful about it, then he or she may very well be heading towards nihilism.

A more important question to ask, then, would be "is Decartes' skepticism useful?"

To that, my answer would be a "yes". At least, for myself being a scientist (or scientist-in-training), the value of scepticism can never be underrated. Throughout scientific history, old ideas are being overthrown by new ones - I would go as far as to say that discoveries in science is about overthrowing old ideas - and if scientists never strongly and unceasingly doubted established ideas, these new discoveries would never surface. Physicist Richard Feynman puts it most clearly when he said,

"Doubt is clearly a value in the sciences. Whether it is in other fields is an open question and an uncertain matter. I expect in the next lectures to discuss that very point and to try to demonstrate that it is important to doubt and that doubt is not a fearful thing, but a thing of very great value."
- "The Meaning of It All", pg. 28


Yet it must be noted that if one bears complete scepticism, throwing out everything that has a bit of uncertainty, then he or she will end up throwing the whole of science out of the window. There has to be a measure of "acceptability" of an idea, and in science this is often described by "beyond reasonable doubt through experiments". So scepticism is only useful when applied moderately.

Feynman left the applicability of scepticism in other areas of knowledge unexplored (at least up till before this paragraph), but I think it is also quite clear that doubt is very useful in many other fields. For example, one needs to apply a fair amount of scepticism when reading a commentary or argument, and when analysing messages from politicians and biased opinions.

In conclusion, the ability to doubt is important, but there must be a limit to the amount of scepticism one has. Decartes' scepticism is certainly interesting and probably useful as long as he has a reasonable measure of when to stop doubting.

09 January 2007

Free Will (Part III)

(This entry is the third part of my train of thoughts about free will. The previous two entries can be accessed here: Free Will (Part I) and Free Will (Part II).)

This is an absurdly overdue entry. But there is a reason for the delay - the concept of free will has burrowed into the depths of obscure philosophy, and each logical step has to be taken carefully and examined thoroughly, and often ending up in a terrible blur. Since the last post, I've read numerous articles and had several discussions, and I think it's time to pull some meat slices out from the murky soup.

In summary, the previous two entries talked about how free will cannot be possible if our physical laws are deterministic (classical mechanics) or random (quantum mechanics). Since then I explored the various underlying assumptions of this view and how they can be made to be otherwise. One possibility Yao has highlighted to me was that there is a concept that is not subjected to physical laws, which is, for a lack of a better word, "reason", or the connection between cause and effect.

By this I mean something like, for example, the presence of a mass will result in a force - (Newtonian) gravitation. The presence is the cause and the force is the effect. The connection is the ability to see that the presence of mass causes the force. If I apply a force on an object, the object will accelerate. In this case, force is the cause and acceleration is the effect. To be able to understand that this cause "causes" the effect, is what I mean here by "reason".

But what does "reason" has to do with free will? Well, nothing that I know of! Yes, "reason", as far as I can see, has nothing to do with free will. But all Yao is trying to raise is the argument that there may exist certain mental process that are not subjected to physical laws, and it is there that free will can exist.

The trouble with this concept is that, perhaps, it's just inventing something up to satisfy our opinion. That is, there is no meaning in objectifying the bridge between cause and effect, because there is simply none! It's somewhat like saying, there's an apple in a basket and I put in one more apple. So 1 + 1 = 2, and now I have two apples in the basket. And free will hides in that equal sign.

But if we assume that everything is subjected to physical laws, then how can free will exist? One notion I've heard/read more than once is that although the basic laws, the first principles, the underlying equations... they're all deterministic (or random), when you add them up, you'll get something extra. So the equation becomes 1 apple + 1 apple = 2 apples + 1 free will. Putting it another way, if we can make computers as complex as the brain, then it will have free will.

But does it? Does a sufficiently complex mind have free will? Or does it have the illusion of free will?

The sad thing is, we may not even find out, because mathematically that is impossible, thanks to mathematical genius Kurt Gödel. Quoting from this article which touches on his theories on logic,

Another implication is there is no algorithm, or recipe for computation, to determine when or if any given computer program will finish some calculation. The only way to find out is to set it computing and see what happens. Any way to find out would be tantamount to doing the calculation itself.


According to this, it means that when a certain complex mind, build up by basic blocks of deterministic calculations, is presented with two options, whether its choice is fixed or based on free will, there is no simple formula, or a shortcut, to find out. The only way is to run through the algorithm of making the choice, which is the mind making the choice itself.

Zooming out, we see more and more experiements "infringing" on free will. From the same article, an experiment on making random actions showed that

brain signals associated with these actions occurred half a second before the subject was conscious of deciding to make them.


Of course, this does not mean free will doesn't exist. As the article summarises,

the conscious brain was only playing catch-up to what the unconscious brain was already doing.


Which means we may not have control over the unconscious brain, there is still this glimmer of hope that we may have control over our conscious brain and hence our choices.

But that experiment was conducted decades ago. This more recent one has shown that, in an experiment involving fMRI,

the authors were able to successfully predict whether the study participants would decide to purchase each item.


Again, this doesn't mean that free will doesn't exist. What it has showed is that many other measureable factors play a part in decision-making. And these may even be undeterministic (i.e. free will).

But somehow, as science rumbles on, I'm beginning to feel that the arguments for free will wearing thin...