Friday, May 7, 2010

end of year

This past year for Paideia was my favorite thus far. I got a better picture of what Paideia is, of what it “has to be,” and the value of such a basic way of learning. It almost seems trivial when compared to such an organized instituted manner of learning that is for us the experience of going to class. On the outside, Paideia is a class, sure. It has a credit marked up, but it is certainly not like any other class I have, nor is it meant to be. Its benefit comes in this fact. I’ve said it before, but I truly believe there is more value than is given to raw discussion. Apart from it as a dwindling form of entertainment, it gets you thinking differently. A lot of times, as I’ve said, we get so into certain projects that we become somewhat blinded. Taking a step back then, has tremendous value. Put simply, it gives you a view of the big picture. This in turn, lets you, at least potentially, refocus specific investigation in a more constructive way.
I realized that Paideia, programs, and occurrences like it within the everyday (educated discussion on whatever with friends), prepares you for life. This might seem exaggerated at first, however I don’t think it is. Going of an essay I read by David Hume, I think that often times, when on our own, we come up with ideas which are skewed—somewhat off, mostly I’d say, as a side-effect of the fact that our experience in the world is unique. Conversation fixes this. It unites human experiences and verifies some of your own ideas while perhaps allowing you to do away with those which are more inaccurate. This, in turn, allows me to deal with all the day to day shit that pops up in life.
Thinking about it, it’s like cubism. Keep in mind here that I know nothing of art, but the basic principles of cubism are that an object is redrawn in order to appear to be looking at it from multiple perspectives—A clearer picture of things, given to me by including multiple perspectives on a matter. Seeing things from different angles, in this case an understanding of human behavior by looking at as diverse of issues as neuroscience, psychology, biology, technology, and so on. One gains a more complete understanding of what is actually going on. The world is not concrete and one dimensional. Rather, we can move around and look at it from a wide variety of angles, which we look from depends upon our interests. Indeed, come to think of it now, this is the epitome of what liberal arts education is.
I am going to determine the specific direction of my creative works project this summer, however I know that I want it to reside somewhere in the intersection of biology and philosophy. I like thinking about the idea that science is in the hands of the few, and the results it has on the masses. Additionally, of science’s limits. What it can say about what. What are the benefits of making it “mainstream?” What are the effects this has on such issues as the notorious conflict between science and religion?

Thursday, May 6, 2010

On campus

For my on campus event I went to a lecture given by Dr. Pierce on his research with the Georgetown Salamander. The talk itself was somewhat technical, with an overview of the various research conducted. Basically, they’re using dyes and photography to identify and count the population of Georgetown salamanders at two locations nearby. The research was conducted in order to gain information to more accurately determine whether or not it the Georgetown salamander should be placed on the endangered species list. This made me realize, reaffirmed really, that science is goal oriented. There is a purpose to all this data—to all the experiment—that determines human action. Placement on the endangered species list is a political issue, with, for example, private property owners often wanting species’ to stay off such a list as it decreases what you can do to your land.
Moreover, science is not as distant as it seems. This is all occurring in Georgetown, by individuals whom I interact with on a day to day basis. Over the summer, I may volunteer doing some research on the salamander. Science, even for a philosophy major, is in reach. You don’t need a phd or particularly fancy equipment. We have much of that at Southwestern, and that’s great, but not necessary for science. All it takes is some initiative and an understanding of the process, of what it means to think scientifically. Science, in this light, is merely people looking at the world and observing, all within the framework of objectivity. You can’t really say that science loses anything as far as the absence of the scientist’s subjectivity because it is precisely this absence which gives science its power.
Going to the lecture and reflecting upon it made me think about the relationship of human beings to animals in general. We are so within these specific projects that often times we fail to see the forest for the trees. So what are we actually doing in such a project as Dr. Pierce’s research with the Georgetown salamander? In so much of what we do, we separate ourselves from the animal world. Our reason separates us. As the rational animal, however, it seems we have a choice to make. Work at conserving ecology with a minimum amount of human intrusion, or not give a shit either way. I’ve always found this dynamic interesting. To be fair, the dynamic is one which is fairly recently formed—for most of human history we as a species haven’t given a shit. There has been a recent attitude change recently. Rarely do individuals, at least in the states, wear fur. It is now certainly seen as taboo. And yet, when keeping such a large reference frame, human beings have been wearing fur for the entirety of their existence. Where is the shift from survival to fashion? From keeping warm to keeping “cool” in the hip sense of the word. Indeed, from necessary to luxury. And what does it mean now that we seem to be “beyond” this? What is the next step in the process?

Off campus

For my off campus event I went to a talk given by Fransisco Ayala, an authority in the field of evolutionary biology, at the University of Texas in San Antonio. My first reaction was that it was somewhat basic, covering the fundamentals of evolutionary theory using a case-study approach. Then, I realized that I have studied the subject at the undergraduate level at some depth, and so perhaps it wasn’t as basic as I thought. Awesome, I think.
I also realized that it’s nice, in and of itself, to hear an authority speak in their field. You realize that they really know their shit, spending their lifetime investigating the subject. At first, such specialization seemed to me restricting, but I realized that its beneficial to refine one’s passion to a fairly specific field.
The last thing I got out of going the talk was fairly personal. At the end, a man stood up, clearly an academic, who asked what was, in my opinion, the perfect question. Citing the evolutionist Stephen Jay Gould, he asked Ayala to confront the issue of non-overlapping magesteria. It doesn’t really matter, but non-overlapping magesteria is the theory presented by Gould which states that science and religion, to use Ayala’s example, are like two windows looking out into the world from the same room. It’s the same world, looking at it from slightly different angles. As long as the domain of science doesn’t encroach upon religion, and visa versa, then all is well. When they do, conflict inevitably arises. In short, leave science to the scientists, and religion to the clergy.
Getting back to the issue at hand, the man asked the question, in Gould’s terms, as to the idea that science has the ability to, for example, explain phenomenon which religion takes as divine. Essentially, he asked Ayala to explain himself on why he thought this was inaccurate. He dodged the question, going back to the idea of an interesting world as one where perhaps religion has a role.
So why did this man have an impact on me? Well, for one, it made me think about where I align myself with regard to science and religion—I’m still working on it. But more importantly, I realized what science in some sense is. Any science is simply a creation of a new vocabulary. It creates and evolves language itself so that understanding can increase in complexity. When within a science, the learned individual, the scientist, feels comfortable. With their newly formed and specialized language in hand, they have words for things which only they interact with. They seem to be able to know more, or at least know quicker, with this vocabulary—able to bring up a somewhat intricate formulation of the relationship of science to religion understood in the term, “non-overlapping magesteria.” It enables you to really get somewhere in conversation. Moreover, it enables you to get your own opinion on the matter, providing a clear means of understanding. I realized that in many respects I want to be that guy—well-read, vocabulary in hand, for some field, or maybe a cross-section in between fields.