What Does Longevity Tell us?

There’s a response that you see fairly often when discussing Science or Politics: Someone eventually says something to the effect of “We've been doing it this way for years,” or “well this has always been the case.” And this is supposed to settle the matter. But what is this sort of argument really saying? At best, it seems to suggest that a large group of people, or at least the ones in power, have agreed about something for a good length of time. Which is certainly impressive given the wide array of opinions in the world. But at worst, it says next to nothing about the quality, utility or rightness of the longstanding argument or activity.

In Philosophy, this sort of argument is referred to as an “Appeal to Tradition.” It is a fallacy (an invalid argument) that most philosophers will dismiss immediately because by itself, tradition, says nothing about quality. A number of things have withstood the test of time before. It was widely held that the Earth was flat, for instance. Racism and slavery had existed for thousands of years before people realized that they were wrong. Certainly, good things have lasted lifetimes as well. Art, Theatre, Mathematics, Philosophy, etc.But simply existing, or being practiced for a long time just does not say enough about the quality of these things or practices.

The Appeal to Tradition Fallacy has been used for years. It comes to mind again now that Gay Marriage has been legalized in Minnesota. It comes to mind because opponents of Gay Marriage have deemed their view of marriage as “Traditional Marriage.” Which it is, sure. Traditionally, marriage has been only legal for Heterosexual couples. But proponents of Traditional Marriage will often use this phrase as both the title and body of their argument. Thinking that because theirs is the view that’s been held for years, that makes it more likely to be the correct view. And it very well may be the correct view, but they would need to provide a great deal more evidence to support that assertion than just pointing to its longevity.

The other main stage I’ve seen this sort of reasoning used is in Science vs Religion debates. A stock argument against Science is that it is not constant. It changes its views so frequently that it can’t be trusted. “First, the Earth is flat, then it is round? Now it’s billions of years old...? etc.” Whereas religion has held the same beliefs and opinions, more or less, for thousands of years, and therefore, it must be more correct about the state of the Universe than Science is. Clearly, the same arguments can be made to show why this is not a reliable way to reason as well.

So why continue using this widely unreliable type of argument? Well I think there’s a certain intuitive nature to it. We are a tradition centric people. Even within familial units. We traditionalize everything, from holidays to Tuesday night game nights. But as any person whose familial status has changed will tell you, sometimes traditions change or get replaced by new traditions. And more often than not, the new traditions are better than the old.

Preferring The Inconsequent

When we  go through life, it’s difficult to do so without developing certain preferences. We find that we like things a specific way, and much like a fingerprint, our set of preferences are unique to us. This set is comprised of little things like which side of the plate we prefer our beverage to be on, to much larger lifestyle preferences: like who we love or where we want to live, whether we want to have children, etc. (For the sake of this argument, I’m going to do a bit of equivocating and use the word preference to include sexual orientation. I’m not suggesting that it is something that we choose or develop like a taste, but it is still a preference nonetheless.)

Being that we are a judgmental species, one should not be surprised to learn that people often have something to say about other folks’ preferences. Most clearly in the cases of homosexuality or gun ownership. But the judgments are not limiting to large scale issues like these. We needn’t look terribly far back to remember the great Coke v. Pepsi debate. There are even current debates, commercials, and campaigns on the topic of which Search Engines we use (I’m am not Bing man, man. btw). So why get worked up by which type of music someone listens to or other seemingly insignificant opinions?

That is not to say that there aren’t certain preferences that do negatively impact us. For example, Adolf Hitler preferred his “Aryan Race” to that of the Jews. Clearly, that particular preference harmed a great number of people. A resounding majority therefore hold that view to be detrimental and judge holders of it accordingly. Likewise, if a person prefers to imprison and torture innocent people for kicks, that is a problem. You don’t have to do much to convince others that your judgment of this person is justified.

What I suppose that I am saying here is that there are times when it is appropriate to harshly judge people for a particular preference. But there are also times when their preference is of no consequence to us, or anyone else, and we are not justified in our judgment of them. Before we can make that distinction, we need to show why one’s preference might be cause for our criticism. The onus is on us here, the person who will be criticizing someone else’s preferences.

In the case of Hitler, it is rather easy to show how his views were harmful to us or others. When it comes to the cases of Gay Rights and private gun ownership, the responsibility falls to those who oppose these things to show how they are, or can be, harmful to ourselves personally, or society as a whole. It may be difficult to in some cases, but it is still the duty of the person who dislikes someone else’s preference to ask themselves: “Does the fact that Eric prefers men harm me, or others,  in any way?” If the answer is “no,” then Eric’s preference is inconsequent, there is no ill consequence that comes from it. If the answer is “yes,” then our criticism of Eric is justified. But either way, it is up to us to ask this question before we act on any criticisms.

Likewise, we should be asking ourselves this question for small things as well. “Does that fact that Teresa prefers a Toaster Oven to a Toaster affect me, or anyone, in a negative way?” I realize we are not robots, sometimes we subconsciously make judgments before we realize we have. That happens, but be aware of it. We owe the courtesy of asking ourselves this question to our fellow humans.

(Insert your favorite interpretation of the Golden Rule here...)

Just How Important Are Guns To Us?

This question has been buzzing around my head lately. Wrapped up in this answer is the idea of guns being a “Right” versus a “Privilege.” Obviously, the Constitution specifically mentions the “...right to bear arms,” and there are entire books and courses devoted to this concept but I won't go into that particular aspect of the debate here. Ultimately, this distinction does not bear much weight on my argument. Instead though, I want to look at how much we are willing to sacrifice for our “right” to possess firearms. It appears to be a great deal. It would seem that our ability to own a gun is more important to us than a number of things. Reducing the number of gun deaths for instance.

Regardless of your take on gun ownership, what the gun death statistics mean exactly or whether stricter regulations would also reduce gun related deaths, it cannot be denied that prohibiting private gun ownership would dramatically reduce the number of gun related deaths in this country. It wouldn’t eliminate them, of course, likely nothing will, but it would reduce the number significantly. Even if more strict regulations of gun ownership could eventually prove to be as successful as simply prohibiting them, it would certainly not be as sure-fire.

We must then wonder, why, in the face of a certain reducer of gun related deaths, do we refuse to take that step? Why do we not do what we must in order to prevent more public shootings? The people who refuse to surrender their firearms, and their “right” to one, believe that that “right” is more important than reducing the number of gun related deaths. That sounds harsh, but there is no other way to look at it (I would love to hear your thoughts if you think there is, but I have thought about this a great deal).

There is a way to dramatically reduce the number of gun deaths in this country (prohibiting private gun ownership), and there is one idea that conflicts with this plan (I have a right to own a firearm). Again,  it is irrespective of why we believe that right is important.Therefore, if we will not institute a ban on private ownership of guns, it is because we believe that our right to own one is more important than reducing the number of gun deaths. If X and Y are mutually exclusive, and we choose Y, we do so because we believe Y has more value, whatever and whyever that may be, than X. Or vice versa. Likewise here, as a country, we believe there is more value in owning a gun than reducing gun related deaths.

As often comes up in gun rights debates, the same argument could be made to show that private car ownership should be eliminated. Certainly, there are a great number of car related deaths in this country as well. An effective way to reduce this number would be to eliminate private car ownership as well. I am inclined to agree. If we were to leave our transportation needs up to public transit: buses, trains, taxis, etc. there would be a significant drop in vehicular deaths. Likewise, if we leave our gun related needs up to law enforcement (protection) or grocery stores (food) then we will see a significant drop in the number of gun related deaths.

Majority Rulez

 An interesting thought occurred to me today while reading this philosophy article about election percentages and Romney’s various mis-speaks. The winner of the presidential, or any other election, is the candidate who receives the majority of the votes, obviously. This could easily mean, however, that over 45% of the country doesn’t actually want the winning candidate to be president. Or in W Bush’s case, a slight majority didn’t want him to be president. When Jesse Ventura was elected governor of Minnesota, almost 2/3 of Minnesotans voted against him.
None of this is new. My question, or thought, is this: What if it took more than just a majority to elect a president? What if it took, say, 75% of Americans to vote her/him into office. Is this even possible? For 75% of Americans to agree on a candidate? Even if it is incredibly unlikely, it almost seems like something we should strive for. I mean, this person is going to be our president. The leader of our country. Would it not be better if more than just half of the country believed in this person?
        Think of how this would change the face of politics. Getting a mere majority of voters to believe in them has not a problem for president’s of America’s past and present, although perhaps trying. The highest margin of victory for the presidency was only 60.3% with President Harding in 1920. But think of the way the game would be changed if candidates had to convince even their sternest opponents to trust them. Perhaps they would have to drop all of their ridiculous rhetoric. Gain more sincerity.
        Again, I’m not saying that this is even possible and it’s hard to imagine how a candidate would do this. I’d like to see it though. It is a goal that could even possibly result in a less divided country in general. I think at least 75% of Americans could agree that that would be a good thing.

Is Cruise Control A Car Thinking?

I’ve been on two small road trips in the last 2 weeks and on multiple occasions, while giving my right foot a much needed rest, I got to wondering: Is my car thinking when it changes speeds whilst set to cruise control? I’ve had this debate with my wife in the past but it’s been a few years, and I feel the need to resurrect it. I don’t really know the answer to this question. It seems like, obviously, that it isn’t thinking. But it’s not that easy to explain why. When we look at the process that occurs prior to a car changing its speed, and all of the factors involved, it appears very similar to the processes that we go through when making a decision of our own. And when we look at these similarities, it seems more difficult to maintain that there is a difference between my thought processes and my Sebring’s.
There are three factors at work in the most common Cruise Control system. This system is called the Proportional-Integral-Derivative Control, or a PID Control. The proportional control simply detects when the speed the car is travelling is higher, or lower, than the set desired speed. If it is different, the control will either open, or close, the throttle more. The Integral control is there to detect the time error. That is, the difference between the distance your car actually travelled, over a set amount of time, and the distance it would have travelled were it going the set desired speed. If you drive up a hill and your car slows down, the integral control will eventually detect this and open the throttle to increase your speed. This is because the distance error will have increased due to the slower speed. Finally, the derivative control is the control that detects any change in speed, also referred to as “acceleration.” If acceleration is detected, this control will immediately adjust the vehicle’s speed appropriately.
If we remove talk of the complex brain processes that also are occurring while we make a decision, it seems that the PID control is at least as complicated as some of our more basic decision making processes. Take, for an example, that we are walking down the sidewalk on our way to work. As we are walking we come across a blocked off section of concrete which has only recently been replaced and which we are not to be walking on. Seeing that we cannot continue to walk in a straight line along the sidewalk, we make the decision to veer off of the sidewalk and onto the street for a few moments until we have passed the blocked off section. After which, we step back onto the sidewalk and continue on until some other obstacle arises.
This example seem suspiciously similar to the operation of Cruise Control. Complex explanation aside, what is happening when a car is set on cruise control and the vehicle changes its speed? Basically, a car is told to travel at a certain speed, the car arrives at a hill and consequently slows its speed. The vehicle recognising that its speed has changed, makes an adjustment. Seems very plain, the car is supposed to do something, it is being hindered, so it makes an adjustment. Just like while we are walking on the sidewalk and the obstacle hinders us, we then had to make an adjustment.
I’m not suggesting that Cruise Control is comparable to any sort of complex human thought processes, merely that it is an example of a lower sort of process that looks a lot like one we may go through at any given time. The sort of process that we may not even realize we are going through at that time. When it comes down to it, the ability to take in information and make an adjustment to our actions based upon that information, that is thinking. And a car does this. It goes through this process. My wife will likely roll her eyes again if she reads this post and I will most likely write a response to this post based on some of the counterarguments that she, and myself, come can up with. Nevertheless, they will have to be some very serious arguments to contend with this apparent similarity between our thinking and my Sebring’s. And if it turns out that Cruise Control is even remotely equivalent to our most simple thought processes, then we will have to accept that perhaps our cars are smarter than we give them credit for.