Wednesday 7 February 2018


 

SPINOZA WAS RIGHT!

 

The human body is a body that thinks, a thinking body (Spinoza). Bodies do not have thought in the sense of owning a possession, any more than bodies have walking rather than doing walking. Human bodies act by thinking (amongst other things) which in fact they do all the time, even in sleep. Certain drugs may alter this activity just as an excess of alcohol will alter the action of walking. Human bodies are thinking ones just as they are walking ones, sitting-down ones and manually-using ones. Thinking indeed animates and accompanies all these, together with reflexes which involve the brain but function also to varying degrees below the consciousness of thinking.

          This consciousness of thinking, incorporating self-awareness, is a natural and social development out of a lengthy evolution. But there is no rigid or sharp division here between humans and the rest of the animal kingdom. Higher animals have memories and can reason beyond pure instincts, often learning by specific imitation, though they function largely by instinct, specialising in their reciprocations with their environments. Wild animals are tied to their natural habitats, a chief distinction from humans, who have learned to live in virtually all environments partly by altering them though some animals have – in some cases for millennia – thrived in big cities – one thinks immediately of various rodents, plus foxes and birds of prey, for example. But it was humans who built the cities in the first place and have largely altered countrysides by industrial means. Humans are not sufficiently biologically specialised to survive without making up societies developed through labour, commencing with the freeing-up of the hands through an upright posture and bipedalism. And so over a lengthy evolution (though in one phase not so lengthy: farming is only 10,000 years old) we have developed elaborated thinking, reasoning, imagining and all through necessary social co-operation and thought-sharing in speech, work, dance, ritual, art, writing and electronic communication – in the service of the reproduction of human social life.

          Just as there is no rigid division between humans and animals, so there is no such thing as ‘thought’ per se. There is always thought about something.  

          ‘Thought’ is not a spiritual ‘implant’ inside a corporeal human body. There is no division of an existential kind between a corporeal human body and his/her thoughts, for the thoughts as such are an activity of that body: something the body does rather than has.   

          ‘Thought’ in isolation is non-existent, an abstraction or reification. It is impossible to think ‘thought’ as such because as a mythical entity in isolation, thought does not exist and by itself is unimaginable. Only thinking exists, as a bodily extension.

          Thoughts are Nature thinking about itself. That is, because human beings are natural beings, a development of Nature itself through humanoid biological-social evolution. In our terms evolution in Nature tends to be slow, though with ‘qualitative leaps’. Biologically we are pretty much the same as our homo sapiens Stone Age ancestors. It is via a further tool-using sociality that we have developed far beyond them. And because all creatures and plants reciprocate with environments, more especially with humans thinking – being a social action and indeed storing social images when not directly socialising – mental activity is  manifested ‘out there’ as much as ‘in here’. Human beings as social beings are consciously purpose-driven, we live our lives by intending to get to work (and coming home again), by working out how to build a house (or reading the instructions), by deciding to sit in this chair rather than that one, by deciding to have children, or at any rate to deal with that situation whether intended or not. As classes emerge in human societies, or in the relations of production and reproduction of human life, so class-struggle is grounded in the natural needs of humans as natural beings, in a struggle over wherewithal in terms of shelter, food and other needs. Thus it is a perpetuation of Nature but in the human socio-political context of the inequalities that deprive the many and over-fulfil the few who rule over them. Class struggles have been endemic in societies of slavery, despotism, feudalism and capitalism. Categorising actions strictly in terms of whether they stem from emotions or from intellect or instincts is unhelpful because purpose towards something is the activity-driven impetus, even if it comes from no more than to relieve oneself of pain or the burden of excrement. The whole natural body is purpose-driven by means some of which are physiologically beyond our immediate control – hunger, contractions, infections, scabbing and so on; but in humans thinking is in overall charge, aided by the more advanced thinking of, say, medical practitioners, not to speak of chefs.

          Mental health has profound implications for thinking bodies, and mental illness is if anything more painful and terrifying for a thinking body than physical illness, something the mass of us even now are only just beginning to realise.

          It might have been better all round if Descartes, back in the 17th century, had inaugurated modern philosophy by saying: ‘I am, therefore I think’ rather than ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Thinking was not prior to corporeal existence. But for Descartes the dilemma would then be how to posit a basic ‘I am’ without some sort of Divine postulate or intervention, outside a construction of rational thinking as such, Darwin not having been around in the 17th century, pace Spinoza. Indeed Descartes resorted to Divine intervention to explain the conundrum of mind-body separation or dualism, (in humans only: dolphins, chimps and bonobos need not apply: Descartes thought of animals as automatons; evidently he had never seen a sleeping dog dreaming) which has bedevilled philosophy ever since. Thus dualism holds that consciousness and physicality are separate domains, but no one has figured out how the supposed corporeal domain and the incorporeal domain interact. The only possible answer seems to have been that God made it so, and you don’t go about questioning Him!

          There is a downside. Because thinking is so all-encompassing in human life it leads us to be the only creatures who are aware of the imminence of their deaths. Animals instinctively know the fear of danger but nothing of their own deaths, though higher animals will mourn the losses of their kind, most poignantly elephants with their exceptional memories. But we know that we ourselves are not exempt in a single instance from personal extinction – danger notwithstanding – and this may be hard to bear.

          What is harder to bear is the sheer nastiness, terror, pain and filth of much dying (not death itself) and the yearly deaths of hundreds of thousands of children across the world: truly shocking such that this essay is powerless to address it adequately. And then the cutting down of the youthful, still in their early prime, tragically and often violently.  All this for me, and I think most others – is much harder to bear than our personal extinction (at least until we are brought to realize the latter’s actual oncoming). Ironically death itself is easier to give thought to and respond to, and so it is this that we will focus on here. Death is piffling compared to dying.

          To meet this eventuality we have developed down the ages a ‘cure’ that might be considered worse than the ‘disease’: a belief in our individual immortality. Probably the majority of people even outside the church believe in a personal immortality of some sort. The irony of this is that it is the corporeal body that is ‘immortal’ (never mind souls) since matter even as transmuted into energy is inextinguishable.

          The living body is not a can of beans, vacuum-sealed and sufficient unto itself. It is continuously nourished and sustained by that which is outside it - including the air we breathe almost every second of our lives or die. The foci and objects of our hopes and fears, our plans, our images, our emotions and our actions – our minds, in short – are ‘out there’ not ‘in here’. Our brains are not the source but the instrument, the two-way transmitter. We, and all living organisms, are as much ‘out there’ as ‘in here’, and for humans this includes their thinking minds. Without ‘out there’, there would be no minds. Even purely mental, immaterial images – not viewable in brain scans – and however internalised, are not wholly internal but a response to the world we live in. And this includes the picturised, compulsive thinking we know as dreams, which may lack everyday logic but not sense, however ‘nonsensical’. Those who instinctively grasp our essential being-in-the-world are, I believe, the more inclined to give back what they take in, perhaps the more inclined to protest against air pollution because they know that ‘air’ is ‘us’ – us as much as our arms and legs and incredibly more vital. Those who are intent on emulating cans of beans will likely be complaisant over killing their own and other peoples’ children on this account. Meanwhile, I suggest, if I cannot prove, that those who give freely of themselves will give freely of their lives when their time comes. Death, this last act of rendering, giving up, can make sense to those who have ‘given’ all their lives. Even solitary artists know the intensity of giving, and the martyred saints of old gave up their lives not only for the bliss to come but also because they had been giving for all or much of their lives. But the need to give today does not require a fanaticism of the old kind, only a realistic assessment of where we and the world are presently heading if we continue to respond by feeding ourselves at the expense of feeding and freeing others.  The personal immortality alternative is not justifiable on virtually any grounds. That is no more than a patchwork of half-baked egoistic ideas needing ever more patching and mending to give (in our time) cover to narcissistic capitalism, itself upholding – in reality – only the immortality of money: the fetish twinned with idealised personal immortality. So twinned, they shore each other up.

Far from the older conservative values of a traditional and organic society, Tory ideology today is focussed on the belief in the self-achieving individual whose freedom is threatened by ‘collectivism’. We are all materially better-off (even the poor) than we used to be, but better-off as separated individuals, not in collective, environmental and social terms. Regardless of whether or not polar bears are on the brink of extinction through our efforts to warm up the globe, the higher and stouter the wall of protection around our house, large or small, the better. Even transport must be insanely individualised with results in our death-dealing pollution and five-mile tailbacks, not to speak of the material waste involved in a world of depleting resources. Unless we can successfully complete this individualist paradise with either an irrational dismissal of imminent personal death or the clinging to the shreds of a faith – long since abandoned otherwise – in a personal immortality, this solipsistic emphasis on extreme separated individualism  makes the thought of one’s own death horrifying in its inconceivability. What can ‘nothing’ mean to one who is ‘everything’ there is? The ‘cure’ of belief in a personal delivery through an inner immortal soul is worse than the ailment if the religion backing this up is not otherwise very robustly believed, and so contributes in its fragile way towards a rubbing raw of the knowledge of death. (Strictly speaking, the biblical Christian dogma is ‘the resurrection of the body’ on the Day of Judgment: see e.g. 1 Corinthians 15:52. As for Buddhist reincarnation, if there is no individuality in Buddhism, what is being ‘reincarnated’?)

          To sum up. No neurologist has ever detected ‘thoughts’ in the brain. Neural firings are not themselves thoughts: the apprehended world (including other bodily functions) creates thoughts. Because we are purpose-driven (common at various levels to all organisms – even, so it seems, trees), our thinking applied to purpose (not found in other organisms except for rudiments in the higher animals and birds), known as ‘mind’, is ‘out there’ rather than ‘in here’. However secret or fanciful or mistaken thoughts may be, or in dreams during sleep, their existence is predicated on the outside world of objects and purposes to do with objects including other human objects, and our own body as an object. Remove all that, remove all stimulus of content and purpose, and there is no ‘thought’ at all. In that state one is either dead or deeply drugged or in a coma in which whole physical systems are shut down.

          In a new book The Spread Mind: Why Consciousness and the World Are One (2017) psychologist Riccardo Manzotti of the University of Milan (‘who has written 50 papers on the basis of consciousness’) considers that our consciousness is of the same stuff physically as the objects it encounters. I would go along with this inasmuch as air and all the rest of the ‘outside’ are integral to us as individual bodies. It is promising that Professor Manzotti mounts a comprehensive and vehement attack on Cartesian mind-body dualism, but despite protestations he cannot ultimately detach himself from the age-old materialist doctrine of physicalism, i.e. that the only real world is the physical world, (a doctrine diametrically opposed, like a fractious twin, to Bishop Berkeley’s theory that the world is immaterially engendered in us by God). Oddly, Manzotti comes to at least partially embrace his twin in the sense that his own doctrine appears to edge towards the Bishop’s view when logically worked out.

          Essentially this is because Manzotti’s focus is on a consciousness passively observing objects (in his case a red apple, so often cited throughout the text as to seem obsessional), just as with virtually all the conventional materialist philosophers.

          Here it is useful to bring in Marx and Theses on Feuerbach, viz.:

‘The chief defect of all previous materialism (including that of Feuerbach) is that things, reality, the sensible world, are conceived only in the form of objects of observation, but not as human sense activity, not as practical activity, not subjectively….’ (I)

‘The standpoint of the old type of materialism is civil society; the standpoint of the new materialism is human society or social humanity.’ (IX)

Or this from the 1844 Manuscripts:

‘Consciousness can never be anything else than conscious existence, and the existence of men is their actual life process.’

And this, from the German Ideology:

‘We begin with real, active men, and from their real life-process show the development of the ideological reflexes and echoes of this life process. ..Life is not determined from consciousness but consciousness by life.’

          Deriving theses on consciousness from the peaceful contemplation of apples or anything else means ultimately reaching a dead end persisting in this frame of thinking.

Hence my stress on the modality of purpose-driven thinking social beings as the developers of consciousness as an actively-used tool, long ago commencing with the freed-up hands. It is in this active sense that as aspects of our material bodies,  our minds are as much ‘out there’ as ‘in here’. When we are released from purpose we will not think anyhow, and so death is nothing to worry about when we no longer have the means by which to worry. But if we have given out some good, at least enough to be missed and remembered to whatever extent, our ‘out there’ will survive us. Buddhists and Hindus would call this our karma, the sum total of all our actions when alive that survives us. I think this is perfectly reasonable in a humanist-materialist sense, as outlined in this blog. It is by this ‘karma’ that Mozart, Beethoven, Rembrandt, Jane Austen, Annie Jones, Steve Wilkinson and that sharp-minded old chap down the pub survive. Or if we’ve done more than our fair share of bad, our ‘out there’ will most likely be shunned, despised and figuratively spat upon. Or perhaps more likely  it will be a mixture of both. So: a heaven, a hell and a purgatory exist after all, though you need not concern yourself with them unless you want to! In this case it really is your survivors who agonise, not you.