Thursday, June 2, 2011
Doc
by Katherine A. Powers
Doc Holliday, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, and Earp's many brothers are known to most of us as they have been shaped successively by sensationalist journalism, dime novels, movies, and TV series. Though biographies of varying degrees of seriousness have also been written of most of these men, their lives might best be suited to fiction; only it can adequately convey the animating tincture of myth that has made them momentous.
This, at least, is the thought that comes to me upon finishing Mary Doria Russell's "Doc." This extraordinary novel, whose central figure is John Henry "Doc" Holliday, is both a work of reclamation of the man from his legend as a coldblooded killer and an inspired evocation of a mythic quintessence. That fundamental aspect of Doc's life is announced from the start: "The Fates pursued him from the day he first drew breath, howling for his delayed demise."
Though set chiefly in 1878 in Dodge City, the story begins with John Henry Holliday's early life as a man beset by misfortune. The son of a Georgia planter, he was born with a cleft palate, later repaired by innovative surgery. His mother, a woman "educated in excess of a lady's requirements," devoted herself to the arduous task of teaching him to speak clearly. She also taught him to play the piano and supplemented his formal education, sharing with him her love of the classics. She died of tuberculosis when he was 15, leaving him in life-long mourning. She quite possibly left Holliday with her disease as well -- the tuberculosis that eventually killed him two decades later.
Read more:
Doc Holliday, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, and Earp's many brothers are known to most of us as they have been shaped successively by sensationalist journalism, dime novels, movies, and TV series. Though biographies of varying degrees of seriousness have also been written of most of these men, their lives might best be suited to fiction; only it can adequately convey the animating tincture of myth that has made them momentous.
This, at least, is the thought that comes to me upon finishing Mary Doria Russell's "Doc." This extraordinary novel, whose central figure is John Henry "Doc" Holliday, is both a work of reclamation of the man from his legend as a coldblooded killer and an inspired evocation of a mythic quintessence. That fundamental aspect of Doc's life is announced from the start: "The Fates pursued him from the day he first drew breath, howling for his delayed demise." Though set chiefly in 1878 in Dodge City, the story begins with John Henry Holliday's early life as a man beset by misfortune. The son of a Georgia planter, he was born with a cleft palate, later repaired by innovative surgery. His mother, a woman "educated in excess of a lady's requirements," devoted herself to the arduous task of teaching him to speak clearly. She also taught him to play the piano and supplemented his formal education, sharing with him her love of the classics. She died of tuberculosis when he was 15, leaving him in life-long mourning. She quite possibly left Holliday with her disease as well -- the tuberculosis that eventually killed him two decades later.
Read more:
House Rule
by Peter J. Boyer
John Boehner’s introduction to the political force that would make him the Speaker of the House of Representatives came on a cool April afternoon in 2009, on the streets of Bakersfield, California. Boehner, the Republican House leader, had come to town for a fund-raiser for his colleague Kevin McCarthy, who represents the area. The event was scheduled for tax day, April 15th—the date targeted for a series of nationwide protest rallies organized by a loosely joined populist movement that called itself the Tea Party. One rally was to take place in Bakersfield, and Boehner and McCarthy decided to make an appearance. “They were expecting a couple of hundred people,” Boehner recalls. “A couple of thousand showed up.”
The two congressmen witnessed a scene of the sort that played in an endless loop across the country for the next eighteen months: people in funny hats waving Gadsden flags and wearing T-shirts saying “No taxation with crappy representation,” venting about bailouts, taxes, entrenched political élites, and an expanding and seemingly pampered public sector. (Noticing an open window in a nearby government office building, some in the Bakersfield crowd shouted, “Shut that window! You’re wasting my air-conditioning!”) Although Bakersfield is in one of the most conservative districts in California, the Tea Party speakers assigned fault to Republicans as well as to Democrats. The event’s organizers had been advised that Boehner and McCarthy would be there but did not invite them to speak.
For Boehner, the Bakersfield rally was a revelation. “I could see that there was this rebellion starting to grow,” he says now. “And I didn’t want our members taking a shellacking as a result.”
Back in Washington, Boehner reported what he’d seen to his Republican colleagues. While many Democrats and the mainstream media mocked the Tea Party, Boehner pressed his members to get out in front of the movement or, at least, get out of its way. “I urge you to get in touch with these efforts and connect with them,” he told a closed-door meeting of the Republican Conference. “The people participating in these protests will be the soldiers for our cause a year from now.”
Read more:
John Boehner’s introduction to the political force that would make him the Speaker of the House of Representatives came on a cool April afternoon in 2009, on the streets of Bakersfield, California. Boehner, the Republican House leader, had come to town for a fund-raiser for his colleague Kevin McCarthy, who represents the area. The event was scheduled for tax day, April 15th—the date targeted for a series of nationwide protest rallies organized by a loosely joined populist movement that called itself the Tea Party. One rally was to take place in Bakersfield, and Boehner and McCarthy decided to make an appearance. “They were expecting a couple of hundred people,” Boehner recalls. “A couple of thousand showed up.”
The two congressmen witnessed a scene of the sort that played in an endless loop across the country for the next eighteen months: people in funny hats waving Gadsden flags and wearing T-shirts saying “No taxation with crappy representation,” venting about bailouts, taxes, entrenched political élites, and an expanding and seemingly pampered public sector. (Noticing an open window in a nearby government office building, some in the Bakersfield crowd shouted, “Shut that window! You’re wasting my air-conditioning!”) Although Bakersfield is in one of the most conservative districts in California, the Tea Party speakers assigned fault to Republicans as well as to Democrats. The event’s organizers had been advised that Boehner and McCarthy would be there but did not invite them to speak.For Boehner, the Bakersfield rally was a revelation. “I could see that there was this rebellion starting to grow,” he says now. “And I didn’t want our members taking a shellacking as a result.”
Back in Washington, Boehner reported what he’d seen to his Republican colleagues. While many Democrats and the mainstream media mocked the Tea Party, Boehner pressed his members to get out in front of the movement or, at least, get out of its way. “I urge you to get in touch with these efforts and connect with them,” he told a closed-door meeting of the Republican Conference. “The people participating in these protests will be the soldiers for our cause a year from now.”
Read more:
5 Technologies That Will Shape the Web
It was 1997—eons ago, in Internet years—and the Web was only beginning to take off. People used dial-up modems to get online, and Netscape Navigator was the browser of choice. Google was still a research project of two Stanford students, and Facebook…well, Mark Zuckerberg was a 13-year-old having his Star Wars–themed bar mitzvah.
Flash forward to 2011. The Web has since reinvented itself time and again: when businesses embraced it in the late 1990s, when Google dominated search in the early 2000s, when user-generated content became prominent in the mid-2000s. Today the Web is going through another reinvention, morphing into a place where our social interactions are ever more important. And the main force behind this phenomenon is, of course, Facebook, led by Zuckerberg, now a 27-year-old billionaire.
So where will the Web go next? We asked two dozen analysts, engineers, and executives to describe what technologies they think will shape our online experiences in the next several years. Their predictions could easily fill this entire issue, but we distilled their wisdom into a more palatable list of five key technologies that our sources mentioned most frequently.
We also asked six of the experts to tell us what these technologies mean for today's dueling titans, Google and Facebook. What challenges do they face? Who's got an advantage? You'll find their comments sprinkled throughout these pages.
Lists like this are nothing if not contentious. Some critics will say we overlooked more crucial trends. Others will claim our technologies are already history. So we want to know what you think. Join the discussion in the comment section below.
Pentagon's Cyberwarfare Strategy
by David Gewirtz
Three related events this week caught the attention of security professionals and news organizations everywhere.
The first was when defense contractor Lockheed Martin announced it had been hit by a cyberattack. The second was when a Pentagon spokesman said the U.S. might consider a cyberattack to be an act of war (and might respond with physical force). The third news story was of another attempted penetration of Google’s systems from China, this time phishing for Gmail account information from senior U.S. officials.
These events are a continuance of the ongoing trend of digital attacks. They are noteworthy in context because they’re helping us see how cyberspace is finally being formally integrated into international policy.
Last night, I was back on BBC radio, where we discussed many of the issues surrounding the formalization of cyberdefense policies. During the interview, it became clear that there were a bunch of questions people on both sides of the pond had about what these new policies mean, and if they indicate a new aggressiveness on the part of the United States.
To clear up some of the confusion, I’ve listed ten things you should know about America’s new cyberdefense policies.
1. Attacks can by symmetrical or asymmetrical.
In warfare, the attackers and defenders aren’t always evenly matched. We’ve all seen what modern bombers can do to a small village, but many people don’t realize that cyberwarfare flips the equation, making it much more costly to defend than attack.
For example, any small group with a pile of PCs (or even PlayStations) can mount a hugely damaging attack, especially if they make use of zombie botnets as a force multiplier.
This means that while the attackers only have to aim at one target, the nation states have to defend every possible target from every possible attack. The cost of defense can be wildly more expensive than the cost of attack.
This changes the entire budgetary calculus of war. Take tank warfare, for example. Back in the days of tank warfare, each side needed to come up with the necessary resources to build and buy tanks — an expensive endeavor. The nuclear race was even more costly, costing in the billions (and, nearly — in today’s dollars — the trillions) to develop.
By contrast, a PC capable of launching a digital attack of mass destruction might cost a few hundred bucks. Defending against those attacks could cost billions.
Three related events this week caught the attention of security professionals and news organizations everywhere.
The first was when defense contractor Lockheed Martin announced it had been hit by a cyberattack. The second was when a Pentagon spokesman said the U.S. might consider a cyberattack to be an act of war (and might respond with physical force). The third news story was of another attempted penetration of Google’s systems from China, this time phishing for Gmail account information from senior U.S. officials.These events are a continuance of the ongoing trend of digital attacks. They are noteworthy in context because they’re helping us see how cyberspace is finally being formally integrated into international policy.
Last night, I was back on BBC radio, where we discussed many of the issues surrounding the formalization of cyberdefense policies. During the interview, it became clear that there were a bunch of questions people on both sides of the pond had about what these new policies mean, and if they indicate a new aggressiveness on the part of the United States.
To clear up some of the confusion, I’ve listed ten things you should know about America’s new cyberdefense policies.
1. Attacks can by symmetrical or asymmetrical.
In warfare, the attackers and defenders aren’t always evenly matched. We’ve all seen what modern bombers can do to a small village, but many people don’t realize that cyberwarfare flips the equation, making it much more costly to defend than attack.
For example, any small group with a pile of PCs (or even PlayStations) can mount a hugely damaging attack, especially if they make use of zombie botnets as a force multiplier.
This means that while the attackers only have to aim at one target, the nation states have to defend every possible target from every possible attack. The cost of defense can be wildly more expensive than the cost of attack.
This changes the entire budgetary calculus of war. Take tank warfare, for example. Back in the days of tank warfare, each side needed to come up with the necessary resources to build and buy tanks — an expensive endeavor. The nuclear race was even more costly, costing in the billions (and, nearly — in today’s dollars — the trillions) to develop.
By contrast, a PC capable of launching a digital attack of mass destruction might cost a few hundred bucks. Defending against those attacks could cost billions.
Stripper FAQ
by Kiko Wu
Introduction
Introduction
This site is a nonprofit resource for those women who have already decided that they would like to earn a living as a stripper. I'm not going to get into the pluses and minuses of the profession. There are a great deal of misconceptions out there about strippers and that is something you will have to deal with if you enter the profession. I will say this- I truly enjoy what I do and I have never felt exploited because I'm a stripper. In fact I have always felt it was far more personally empowering than any other profession. But it's not for everyone. It requires a certain temperament. Don't go and become a stripper because you feel you "have" to. If you hate what you do it WILL show and you will make very little money.
Tools of the TradeOther than your body, which we'll get into later, the tools of the trade are clothing, makeup, and shoes. In dancing, as with any other trade, it never pays to buy cheap tools-they don't work well, they break and you'll just have to replace them anyway.
Heels are your first purchase. Minimum height is 3 inches- anything shorter and your gut will stick out and your legs will look like tree trunks. Look for a shoe with a plastic one-piece sole and heel. Shoes with the leather and wood heels are much more elegant but after the second night of dancing on them the heels tend to flex too much and put a lot of stress on your knees and back. Open toes tend to be more comfortable but if you're going to wear them you have to make sure your toenails are painted and trimmed. Putting no-slip rubber pads on the bottom of the shoe is a good idea- it prevents embarrassing falls on slippery stages.
Bottoms come in a few different varieties: choose according to your tastes, club rules, etc. Almost all clubs require thongs. A dancing bottom can be purchased through mail order or at stores that carry them. Girls who try dancing in underwear or a swimsuit bottom always look tacky. Buy the right kind. Some topless clubs have rules against g-strings (string sides and back) because they tend to not provide enough coverage to comply with local laws.
Some clubs don't care what kind of dress you wear- lots of girls wear neon spandex micro minis etc. Other clubs called "gown clubs" have more strict rules and generally require these sort of slutty evening gowns. These gowns like the bottoms need to be custom made or ordered- nothing from the department store will cut it. One thing that I cannot emphasis enough- NEVER ever wear an asymmetrical dress (hem cut at an angle or one shoulder strap). As most people know, men subconsciously look at certain physical attributes as signs of good genetics and a desirable partner -- boobs, hips etc. They also look for something anthropologists call "Bilateral Symmetry" which means that your arms and legs are the same length, your torso is straight etc. An asymmetrical dress throws this off. It may look nice but you can actually chart the drop in earnings on a night to night basis.
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Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Hive of Nerves
To be alive spiritually is to feel the ultimate anxiety of existence within the trivial anxieties of everyday life
It is time that the stone grew accustomed to blooming,
That unrest formed a heart.
—Paul Celan
During a dinner with friends the talk turns, as it often does these days, to the problem of anxiety: how it is consuming everyone; how the very technologies that we have developed to save time and thereby lessen anxiety have only degraded the quality of the former and exacerbated the latter; how we all need to “give ourselves a break” before we implode. Everyone has some means of relief—tennis, yoga, a massage every Thursday—but the very way in which those activities are framed as separate from regular life suggests the extent to which that relief is temporary (if even that: a couple of us admit that our “recreational” activities partake of the same simmering, near-obsessive panic as the rest of our lives). There is something circular and static to our conversation, which doesn’t end so much as frazzle indeterminately out. And though there is always some comfort in comparing maladies, I am left with the uneasy feeling that my own private anxieties have actually increased by becoming momentarily collective—or no, not that, increased by not becoming collective, increased by the reinforcement of my loneliness within a collective context, like that penetrating but enervating stab of self one feels sometimes in an anonymous crowd. It is a full day later before it occurs to me that not once, not in any form, not even with the ghost of a suggestion, did any of us mention God.
The greatness of James Joyce’s Ulysses is partly in the way it reveals the interior chaos of a single mind during a single day, and partly in the way it makes that idiosyncratic clamor universal. However different the textures of our own lives may be, Bloom’s mind is our mind; the welter of impressions he suffers and savors is a storm we all know. And that is the book’s horror too: some form of this same fury of trivia is going on in the mind of every sentient person on the planet. How much cruelty is occasioned simply because of the noise that is within us: the din is too great for us to realize exactly what we are doing to others, or what is being done to others in our name. Thus an offhand remark, which leaves us as easily as a breath and which we think no more of than a breath, cuts a friend to the quick. And thus a whole country can be organized toward some collective insanity because there is no space in individuals to think. Life has accelerated greatly since Joyce’s time, and now, as our selves scatter into bits and bytes, and our souls, if we are conscious of them at all, diminish to little more than a vague wish for quiet, even the linear associativeness of Ulysses can seem quaint.
How does one remember God, reach for God, realize God in the midst of one’s life if one is constantly being overwhelmed by that life? It is one thing to encourage contemplation, prayer, quiet spaces in which God, or at least a galvanizing awareness of his absence (“Be present with your want of a Deity, and you shall be present with the Deity,” as the 17th-century poet Thomas Traherne puts it), can enter the mind and heart. But the reality of contemporary American life—which often seems like a kind of collective ADHD—is that any consciousness requires a great deal of resistance, and how does one relax and resist at the same time?
by Christian Wiman, The American Scholar | Read more:
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It is time that the stone grew accustomed to blooming,
That unrest formed a heart.
—Paul Celan
During a dinner with friends the talk turns, as it often does these days, to the problem of anxiety: how it is consuming everyone; how the very technologies that we have developed to save time and thereby lessen anxiety have only degraded the quality of the former and exacerbated the latter; how we all need to “give ourselves a break” before we implode. Everyone has some means of relief—tennis, yoga, a massage every Thursday—but the very way in which those activities are framed as separate from regular life suggests the extent to which that relief is temporary (if even that: a couple of us admit that our “recreational” activities partake of the same simmering, near-obsessive panic as the rest of our lives). There is something circular and static to our conversation, which doesn’t end so much as frazzle indeterminately out. And though there is always some comfort in comparing maladies, I am left with the uneasy feeling that my own private anxieties have actually increased by becoming momentarily collective—or no, not that, increased by not becoming collective, increased by the reinforcement of my loneliness within a collective context, like that penetrating but enervating stab of self one feels sometimes in an anonymous crowd. It is a full day later before it occurs to me that not once, not in any form, not even with the ghost of a suggestion, did any of us mention God. The greatness of James Joyce’s Ulysses is partly in the way it reveals the interior chaos of a single mind during a single day, and partly in the way it makes that idiosyncratic clamor universal. However different the textures of our own lives may be, Bloom’s mind is our mind; the welter of impressions he suffers and savors is a storm we all know. And that is the book’s horror too: some form of this same fury of trivia is going on in the mind of every sentient person on the planet. How much cruelty is occasioned simply because of the noise that is within us: the din is too great for us to realize exactly what we are doing to others, or what is being done to others in our name. Thus an offhand remark, which leaves us as easily as a breath and which we think no more of than a breath, cuts a friend to the quick. And thus a whole country can be organized toward some collective insanity because there is no space in individuals to think. Life has accelerated greatly since Joyce’s time, and now, as our selves scatter into bits and bytes, and our souls, if we are conscious of them at all, diminish to little more than a vague wish for quiet, even the linear associativeness of Ulysses can seem quaint.
How does one remember God, reach for God, realize God in the midst of one’s life if one is constantly being overwhelmed by that life? It is one thing to encourage contemplation, prayer, quiet spaces in which God, or at least a galvanizing awareness of his absence (“Be present with your want of a Deity, and you shall be present with the Deity,” as the 17th-century poet Thomas Traherne puts it), can enter the mind and heart. But the reality of contemporary American life—which often seems like a kind of collective ADHD—is that any consciousness requires a great deal of resistance, and how does one relax and resist at the same time?
by Christian Wiman, The American Scholar | Read more:
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Silk Road
by Adrian Chen
Making small talk with your pot dealer sucks. Buying cocaine can get you shot. What if you could buy and sell drugs online like books or light bulbs? Now you can: Welcome to Silk Road.
About three weeks ago, the U.S. Postal Service delivered an ordinary envelope to Mark's door. Inside was a tiny plastic bag containing 10 tabs of LSD. "If you had opened it, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't have even noticed," Mark told us in a phone interview.
Mark, a software developer, had ordered the 100 micrograms of acid through a listing on the online marketplace Silk Road. He found a seller with lots of good feedback who seemed to know what they were talking about, added the acid to his digital shopping cart and hit "check out." He entered his address and paid the seller 50 Bitcoins—untraceable digital currency—worth around $150. Four days later the drugs, sent from Canada, arrived at his house.
"It kind of felt like I was in the future," Mark said.
View the gallery
Silk Road, a digital black market that sits just below most internet users' purview, does resemble something from a cyberpunk novel. Through a combination of anonymity technology and a sophisticated user-feedback system, Silk Road makes buying and selling illegal drugs as easy as buying used electronics—and seemingly as safe. It's Amazon—if Amazon sold mind-altering chemicals.
Read more:
Making small talk with your pot dealer sucks. Buying cocaine can get you shot. What if you could buy and sell drugs online like books or light bulbs? Now you can: Welcome to Silk Road.
About three weeks ago, the U.S. Postal Service delivered an ordinary envelope to Mark's door. Inside was a tiny plastic bag containing 10 tabs of LSD. "If you had opened it, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't have even noticed," Mark told us in a phone interview.
Mark, a software developer, had ordered the 100 micrograms of acid through a listing on the online marketplace Silk Road. He found a seller with lots of good feedback who seemed to know what they were talking about, added the acid to his digital shopping cart and hit "check out." He entered his address and paid the seller 50 Bitcoins—untraceable digital currency—worth around $150. Four days later the drugs, sent from Canada, arrived at his house.
"It kind of felt like I was in the future," Mark said.
View the gallery
Silk Road, a digital black market that sits just below most internet users' purview, does resemble something from a cyberpunk novel. Through a combination of anonymity technology and a sophisticated user-feedback system, Silk Road makes buying and selling illegal drugs as easy as buying used electronics—and seemingly as safe. It's Amazon—if Amazon sold mind-altering chemicals.
Read more:
Dream Anxieties
by Bill Graves
You sit in a classroom, and your teacher puts an exam on your desk. English History during the Middle Ages?
You sit in a classroom, and your teacher puts an exam on your desk. English History during the Middle Ages?
You know nothing about it. You forgot you ever signed up for this course. You've not cracked a single book. You've skipped every class. And if you don't pass this exam, you don't get your degree. You reel between dread and panic.
And then you wake. Sometimes sweating.Seniors in Oregon's public universities cramming for final exams next week may never have had the exam dream. But chances are they will. In earning a college degree, they've become prime candidates for the nightmare for decades to come.
It is among the most common anxiety dreams, says Dr. Alfred Lewy, professor of psychiatry at Oregon Health & Science University, probably because everyone spends a chunk of life in school.
The exam is a symbol of a test in waking life, maybe a presentation, job interview, relationship or performance. Lewy says the dream also raises the question, "Is there something that I have overlooked in my life that I should be prepared for that I haven't prepared for today?"
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25 Creative Food Ads
Everyone loves delicious food. And maybe that’s why they become favorites of advertisers. We have rounded up 25 Creative Ads Featuring Cute Food here. It is such a joy to see some of them, being displayed with a tint of humor, while others are metaphorically presented to snap us out of our misery. Enjoy!
Click here:
Morality Without Free Will
by Sam Harris
Many people seem to believe that morality depends for its existence on a metaphysical quantity called “free will.” This conviction is occasionally expressed—often with great impatience, smugness, or piety—with the words, “ought implies can.” Like much else in philosophy that is too easily remembered (e.g. “you can’t get an ought from an is.”), this phrase has become an impediment to clear thinking.
In fact, the concept of free will is a non-starter, both philosophically and scientifically. There is simply no description of mental and physical causation that allows for this freedom that we habitually claim for ourselves and ascribe to others. Understanding this would alter our view of morality in some respects, but it wouldn’t destroy the distinction between right and wrong, or good and evil.
The following post has been adapted from my discussion of this topic in The Moral Landscape (pp. 102-110):
We are conscious of only a tiny fraction of the information that our brains process in each moment. While we continually notice changes in our experience—in thought, mood, perception, behavior, etc.—we are utterly unaware of the neural events that produce these changes. In fact, by merely glancing at your face or listening to your tone of voice, others are often more aware of your internal states and motivations than you are. And yet most of us still feel that we are the authors of our own thoughts and actions.
The problem is that no account of causality leaves room for free will—thoughts, moods, and desires of every sort simply spring into view—and move us, or fail to move us, for reasons that are, from a subjective point of view, perfectly inscrutable. Why did I use the term “inscrutable” in the previous sentence? I must confess that I do not know. Was I free to do otherwise? What could such a claim possibly mean? Why, after all, didn’t the word “opaque” come to mind? Well, it just didn’t—and now that it vies for a place on the page, I find that I am still partial to my original choice. Am I free with respect to this preference? Am I free to feel that “opaque” is the better word, when I just do not feel that it is the better word? Am I free to change my mind? Of course not. It can only change me.
There is a distinction between voluntary and involuntary actions, of course, but it does nothing to support the common idea of free will (nor does it depend upon it). The former are associated with felt intentions (desires, goals, expectations, etc.) while the latter are not. All of the conventional distinctions we like to make between degrees of intent—from the bizarre neurological complaint of alien hand syndrome to the premeditated actions of a sniper—can be maintained: for they simply describe what else was arising in the mind at the time an action occurred. A voluntary action is accompanied by the felt intention to carry it out, while an involuntary action isn’t. Where our intentions themselves come from, however, and what determines their character in every instant, remains perfectly mysterious in subjective terms. Our sense of free will arises from a failure to appreciate this fact: we do not know what we will intend to do until the intention itself arises. To see this is to realize that you are not the author of your thoughts and actions in the way that people generally suppose. This insight does not make social and political freedom any less important, however. The freedom to do what one intends, and not to do otherwise, is no less valuable than it ever was.
Many people seem to believe that morality depends for its existence on a metaphysical quantity called “free will.” This conviction is occasionally expressed—often with great impatience, smugness, or piety—with the words, “ought implies can.” Like much else in philosophy that is too easily remembered (e.g. “you can’t get an ought from an is.”), this phrase has become an impediment to clear thinking.
In fact, the concept of free will is a non-starter, both philosophically and scientifically. There is simply no description of mental and physical causation that allows for this freedom that we habitually claim for ourselves and ascribe to others. Understanding this would alter our view of morality in some respects, but it wouldn’t destroy the distinction between right and wrong, or good and evil. The following post has been adapted from my discussion of this topic in The Moral Landscape (pp. 102-110):
We are conscious of only a tiny fraction of the information that our brains process in each moment. While we continually notice changes in our experience—in thought, mood, perception, behavior, etc.—we are utterly unaware of the neural events that produce these changes. In fact, by merely glancing at your face or listening to your tone of voice, others are often more aware of your internal states and motivations than you are. And yet most of us still feel that we are the authors of our own thoughts and actions.
The problem is that no account of causality leaves room for free will—thoughts, moods, and desires of every sort simply spring into view—and move us, or fail to move us, for reasons that are, from a subjective point of view, perfectly inscrutable. Why did I use the term “inscrutable” in the previous sentence? I must confess that I do not know. Was I free to do otherwise? What could such a claim possibly mean? Why, after all, didn’t the word “opaque” come to mind? Well, it just didn’t—and now that it vies for a place on the page, I find that I am still partial to my original choice. Am I free with respect to this preference? Am I free to feel that “opaque” is the better word, when I just do not feel that it is the better word? Am I free to change my mind? Of course not. It can only change me.
There is a distinction between voluntary and involuntary actions, of course, but it does nothing to support the common idea of free will (nor does it depend upon it). The former are associated with felt intentions (desires, goals, expectations, etc.) while the latter are not. All of the conventional distinctions we like to make between degrees of intent—from the bizarre neurological complaint of alien hand syndrome to the premeditated actions of a sniper—can be maintained: for they simply describe what else was arising in the mind at the time an action occurred. A voluntary action is accompanied by the felt intention to carry it out, while an involuntary action isn’t. Where our intentions themselves come from, however, and what determines their character in every instant, remains perfectly mysterious in subjective terms. Our sense of free will arises from a failure to appreciate this fact: we do not know what we will intend to do until the intention itself arises. To see this is to realize that you are not the author of your thoughts and actions in the way that people generally suppose. This insight does not make social and political freedom any less important, however. The freedom to do what one intends, and not to do otherwise, is no less valuable than it ever was.
The Man Who Can Taste Sounds
by Chrissie Giles
Every time James Wannerton hears or reads a word, he can taste it in his mouth. What is it like living with this extremely rare form of synaesthesia? He talks to Chrissie Giles about difficult menu choices, having to abandon French lessons and the importance of great-tasting friends.
Who are you?
I work in IT and have lexical-guastatory synaethesia, an extra connection between two areas of my brain. It means that whenever I hear, see or read something, I get a specific taste. Even though I’m not eating something – and I know I’m not – it seems pretty real to me.
Unless I spoke about it, there’s no way you’d know I was a synaesthete. I did bring it up a couple of times at school and home but it never went anywhere. My ex-girlfriend didn’t know for years and years. My parents found out because I was on an episode of Horizon. They were quite put out about it at the time and still are now.
When did you first realise you had this ability?
You have to bear in mind that this is perfectly normal for me, so it’s a bit like asking when was the first time you smelt something and what did it smell like – you can’t remember. I can certainly remember picking up tastes when I was at school, around the age of four and a half. I have very strong memories of sitting in assemblies. We were read the Lord’s prayer every morning: it had a taste of very thin crispy bacon.
Talking about it now, can you taste it?
Yeah. It’s quite strong as well.
Can you describe synaethesia?
It’s not an extra sense, but it does give me an extra perception. It’s like getting an eye-dropper of taste dripped on my tongue. I get a taste, temperature and texture. One of the ways I stop this affecting my concentration on a day-to-day basis is to eat strong-tasting sweets like Wine Gums, and drinking coffee.
Do you ever synaesthetically taste something you’ve never eaten before?It can be difficult to articulate a particular sensation and compare it to a foodstuff. These things are specific and very, very complex. When I’ve taken part in research, I could write maybe half a page of A4 on a particular word’s effects.
Ever since I was young, I had a taste for the word ‘expect’ and I could never quite put my finger on what it was. One day, I bought a packet of Marmite-flavoured crisps. When I had one, it clicked – that’s the taste of “expect”! If I had to describe it I’d say it’s a bit tangy, slightly thick but crunchy.
I get lots of metallic tastes that I can’t describe, other than saying it’s smooth or rough. The name David gives me a very strong taste of cloth, a bit like sucking on a sleeve.
How has it affected your life?
When I was younger, I used to choose friends according to whether they tasted nice or not. When I got older, it used to affect my choice of girlfriend. Their name would be just as attractive to me as the way they looked or their personality.
You couldn’t go out with somebody who didn’t taste right?
Oh no. There are ways of coping with that, though. If I don’t like the sound or taste of somebody’s name then I’ll try and call them something else in my head. If that doesn’t work then I can’t live with it. A good analogy is meeting somebody who you really like, who looks great and who has a fantastic personality, but has a horrible smell about them. It would affect your perception of them – and it’s always there in the background.
Every time James Wannerton hears or reads a word, he can taste it in his mouth. What is it like living with this extremely rare form of synaesthesia? He talks to Chrissie Giles about difficult menu choices, having to abandon French lessons and the importance of great-tasting friends.
Who are you?I work in IT and have lexical-guastatory synaethesia, an extra connection between two areas of my brain. It means that whenever I hear, see or read something, I get a specific taste. Even though I’m not eating something – and I know I’m not – it seems pretty real to me.
Unless I spoke about it, there’s no way you’d know I was a synaesthete. I did bring it up a couple of times at school and home but it never went anywhere. My ex-girlfriend didn’t know for years and years. My parents found out because I was on an episode of Horizon. They were quite put out about it at the time and still are now.
When did you first realise you had this ability?
You have to bear in mind that this is perfectly normal for me, so it’s a bit like asking when was the first time you smelt something and what did it smell like – you can’t remember. I can certainly remember picking up tastes when I was at school, around the age of four and a half. I have very strong memories of sitting in assemblies. We were read the Lord’s prayer every morning: it had a taste of very thin crispy bacon.
Talking about it now, can you taste it?
Yeah. It’s quite strong as well.
Can you describe synaethesia?
It’s not an extra sense, but it does give me an extra perception. It’s like getting an eye-dropper of taste dripped on my tongue. I get a taste, temperature and texture. One of the ways I stop this affecting my concentration on a day-to-day basis is to eat strong-tasting sweets like Wine Gums, and drinking coffee.
Do you ever synaesthetically taste something you’ve never eaten before?It can be difficult to articulate a particular sensation and compare it to a foodstuff. These things are specific and very, very complex. When I’ve taken part in research, I could write maybe half a page of A4 on a particular word’s effects.
Ever since I was young, I had a taste for the word ‘expect’ and I could never quite put my finger on what it was. One day, I bought a packet of Marmite-flavoured crisps. When I had one, it clicked – that’s the taste of “expect”! If I had to describe it I’d say it’s a bit tangy, slightly thick but crunchy.
I get lots of metallic tastes that I can’t describe, other than saying it’s smooth or rough. The name David gives me a very strong taste of cloth, a bit like sucking on a sleeve.
How has it affected your life?
When I was younger, I used to choose friends according to whether they tasted nice or not. When I got older, it used to affect my choice of girlfriend. Their name would be just as attractive to me as the way they looked or their personality.
You couldn’t go out with somebody who didn’t taste right?
Oh no. There are ways of coping with that, though. If I don’t like the sound or taste of somebody’s name then I’ll try and call them something else in my head. If that doesn’t work then I can’t live with it. A good analogy is meeting somebody who you really like, who looks great and who has a fantastic personality, but has a horrible smell about them. It would affect your perception of them – and it’s always there in the background.
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