NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND

In Monday night's discussion, Thad asked whether we side with the Underground Man or with the Gentleman. That is, do we believe that man is irrational and independent and on occasion, chooses to assert this independence by making a completely irrational, disadvantageous choice. Or do we believe that man is a rational creature whose actions are pre-determined by his brain chemistry, and if we could fully grasp the human brain and understand what makes us tick, then each individuals' actions could be predicted with absolute accuracy. The majority of the class, myself included, sided with the Underground Man. This isn't really surprising considering what exactly the latter mindset proposes. I'm not saying that humans aren't intelligent, rational creatures, in fact, I believe quite the opposite. I think humans are incredibly intelligent, incredibly rational creatures, and I think our remarkable intelligence and rationality not only gives us the ability to, but to a certain extent requires that we, on occasion, act irrationally, as a means of exhibiting our intelligence and rationality. I know I'm really oversimplifying here, but, it's kind of like when disgustingly wealthy people spend a disgusting amount of money on something they don't need just to show how disgustingly rich they are. But back to the Gentleman mindset. It's a really romantic, idealized mindset that sounds great in theory, but even if we do develop a complete understanding of the human brain and of neurological chemistry, to the point where we know why people make the 'choices' they make, we would be unable to predict and account for the infinite slew of environmental and social factors that influence our choices. And adjusting environmental and social factors as a means of encouraging certain outcomes – well, that kind of seems like cheating, and might be trouble than it's worth. I almost wish it was as easy as the Gentlemen say it is. If we could predict human behavior then we could prevent crime and murder and war and all those awful things that happen before they happen, and the world would be warm and fuzzy and not unlike Minority Report. But at the end of the day, it's not that easy. It couldn't be that easy. There will always be external factors that go unaccounted for, be they environmental or social or otherwise. And a neurologically (or otherwise) pre-determined existence, a la Sisyphus, might be completely torturous and worst than not existing at all.

Stemming from this came the topic of compassion and altruism and how each relates to either rationality or irrationality. On the surface, compassionate, altruistic actions seem to be irrational and disadvantageous, insofar as the individual who demonstrates such actions is thought to gain little or nothing. Considering his insistence of the master morality reigning supreme over the herd morality, I think Nietzsche would certainly agree with this proposition. I, however, am not so sure. My immediate perception of altruism as it relates to rationality, is a little conflicted. I suppose (and I say this with hesitation) that my most visceral, intuitive inclination would be to side with the those who correlate altruism with irrationality. That's not to say that is my final conclusion, but merely my most intuitive inclination. Compassion and altruism do come off as a bit of hindrance considering the time, energy, and possible resources spent on empathizing with the misfortune of others could have been used to improve one's own position in the world. But I think if we use our rationale and really consider the ubiquity and cerebral power of compassion, it seems more likely that humans have developed altruistic aspirations and a generally compassionate nature, as a means of encouraging and perpetuating the survival of humanity as a whole – and that seems totally rational. Further evidence in favor of this notion, lies in the behavior of other animals, and how compassion relates to cerebral capacity and intelligence. One will find that, almost without exception, more intelligent animals, those believed to be more conscious and self-aware – guerillas, chimps, dolphins, canines, large felines – have the capacity for compassion, whereas less intelligent, less conscious animals, are significantly less likely to perform altruistic acts. So, assuming (and I think this is a pretty fundamental assumption) there is a direct correlation between intelligence and rationality – that is, greater intelligence means a greater capacity for rationality – then more rational animals have a greater capacity for altruism and compassion. Thus, compassion and altruism are rooted in rationality. 

BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL

Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil, is essentially a diatribe of countless critiques and criticisms of the philosopher's scholarly and philosophical contemporaries, as well as society in general, regarding everything from religion to morality to truth to nationalism. To a certain extent, Beyond Good and Evil functions as a crystal ball of sorts, offering future thinkers a vision of what is to come, while Nietzsche serves as a mustached clairvoyant, warning, advising, and steering readers in the 'right' direction (although at times, it feels like he's blind-drunk steering a semi). It's no secret that Nietzsche was a bit manic – this is clearly reflected in the chaotic nature of the Beyond Good and Evil - and at times, the text comes off as muddled and bit helter-skelter. However, I think Nietzsche offers some really remarkable insight on a gamut of topics, and although I don't necessarily entirely agree with many of his points, I can certainly appreciate his philosophic brilliance.

For me, the most intriguing part of Beyond Good and Evil is the section regarding the nature of morality, in which Nietzsche delves into the effect society has had on the development of morality thus far, as well as the future effect that society will have on the evolution of morality. This section also comes off as a challenge of sorts, or perhaps an emphatic suggestion, encouraging readers to consider ideologies and moralities other than their own, so as to gain a broader understanding of the nature of morality.

The main posit of this section - and one of the major points of Beyond Good and Evil as a whole – is Nietzsche claim that in the world, there exist two basic type of morality: 'master morality' and 'slave morality'. And between these two moralities there is one fundamental difference: the longing for freedom; that is, in the slave morality, the longing for happiness by way of freedom is as necessary as, and therefore analogous to, the longing for artful and thoughtful contemplation by those in the master morality. I suppose I can, for the most part, agree with the basics of each type of morality. That is, that at its core, master morality is self-glorification, while slave morality is morality of utility. Those in a high-ranking, more 'favorable' position in society will determine what is good and base this determination on the nobility or contemptibility of an action. Conversely, those in a low-ranking, less 'favorable' position in society will be (rightfully) suspicious of the virtues of the powerful, and associate goodness with utility; thus, qualities that help the oppressed make the most of their existence, such as compassion, modesty, and diligence, and are thought to carry the most goodness. Again, I can certainly agree with the tenants of both of Nietzsche's type of moralities; however, I think that by reducing morality as a whole to two general types with one difference, Nietzsche may have oversimplified an immensely profound aspect of humanity, and offered a radically cynical view of the human condition.

Additionally, Nietzsche is highly critical of moralities that are exhibited and embraced by the masses, asserting that these moralities are exploitative and based on fear, and used as a means of taming individuals and clustering society at large into a single mass in which no individual can think for his or herself. This is a bold assertion that I'm not sure I can much agree with. The nature of the master-slave relationship requires that there be fewer masters than slaves, and that although few in numbers, masters are rich in power. As such, it seems more likely that moralities exhibited by the masses would be more akin to the qualities embraced by the slave morality, such as cooperation and compassion, as these qualities would best lend themselves to the well-being of society in general.

THE UBERMENSCH

'The Madman' (inexplicitly) asks: Which is more important, knowledge or faith? Now, I'm not sure if Nietzsche ever directly states his opinion, but I think it's safe to say he's team knowledge all the way – after all, the guy said “God is dead.” Nietzsche takes a radical approach, and proposes an abandonment of faith altogether, in favor the acceptance of the world as our senses perceive it to be. In other words, Nietzsche rejects the notion of anything and everything 'otherworldly', and accepts only what meets the eye. He goes on to express his utter disdain for the herd and the herd-instinct, which Nietzsche believes weakens man, inhibits personal growth, and prevents each individual from valuing himself as anything more than just a function of the herd. Nietzsche's solution to the herd? The Ubermensch.

The Ubermensch is willing to risk everything for the sake of humanity's enhancement. The Ubermensch is both 'more than human and all too human', independent, not conscious, and above the herd. The Ubermensch is the next step in the evolution of humanity. He transcends the herd and his own consciousness, and establishes his own morals and values, completely independent of the herd. The Ubermensch exists in complete opposition to the last man, who is, according to Nietzsche, the “most contemptuous.” The last man is primarily focused on his own comfort and is so reliant on the herd, that he is incapable of becoming anything greater than himself.

For all their differences - and they've got a lot of differences – I think it's in this that Nietzsche and Kierkegaard find some common ground. Kierkegaard's life and mind centered around God and the 'leap of faith.' Although, Nietzsche denounced faith and Christianity and God altogether, I think his Ubermensch requires a sort of leap of faith as well. Maybe not a leap of faith in the traditional sense of the word 'faith,' and certainly not in Kierkegaard's sense of the word 'faith'. But faith in the individual. Faith in the individual's ability to transcend his consciousness and himself, and become something greater. Nietzsche saw man as a bridge. A bridge between beast and the Ubermensch. Nietzsche acknowledged that the men and women of his time were not ready for the Ubermensch, they were still too reliant on the herd.

So, now are we ready for the Ubermensch? If the Ubermensch becomes the overman the way Nietzsche posits – that is, by transcending himself and the herd and becoming a completely independent being – then no, I don't think we are ready for the Ubermensch. The way the world is today, with the ubiquity of the internet and social networking, it would be nearly impossible to truly escape the herd. Technology has made the world such as small place, we have become completely dependent on other members of the 'herd' from all around the globe to provide us with knowledge and news and entertainment and everything else that give our lives meaning. That being said, I think a more likely Ubermensch will emerge out of this technological dependence – something along the lines of a technological superintelligence by way of technological singularity. Technological Singularity is basically a futurist theory that proposes the emergence of a greater-than-human artificial intelligence via technological means. Now, I'm not a crazy computer wizard (I swear), but the world we live in just seems way more conducive to a technological Ubermensch.

So, who is the Ubermensch? How will know him when we see him? Nietzsche doesn't exactly state how we'll know, I guess it's just one of those 'you'll just know' kind of deals. I've never encountered anybody who even comes close to refusing the herd or transcending his/her consciousness, but I watched a documentary the other day about this guy named Faustino who has lived in Patagonia, in pretty much complete isolation for the past 40 years of his life. He rejects the herd, is completely independent, relying on nothing more than the land and his animals, and seems to have established his own set of morals (he shot his nephew because he was allegedly trying to steal his cattle). I think if anybody in our present world comes close to meeting Nietzsche's definition of the Ubermensch, it's Faustino.

P.S. Here's the link to that documentary if anybody is interested: http://www.vice.com/far-out/faustinos-patagonian-retreat-part-1

CAMUS VS. KIERKEGAARD

In their philosophizing, Camus and Kierkegaard battle the same beast: the absurd. Camus arms himself with reason and revolt, while Kierkegaard fights with faith. Camus is a straightforward, face-the-enemy-head-on kind of soldier, reminiscent of pre 20^th century battle paintings. You know, the ones in which the good guys stand so close to the bad guys that they can see 'the whites of their eyes'. Kierkegaard on the other hand, is kind of like a Kamikaze pilot. Neither Kamikaze pilots nor Kierkegaard seem to have much rationale, both are more concerned with 'how' you believe and convey this belief, rather than 'what' you believe. And when you do try to understand what little rationale they may have, they throw in another paradox and leave you just as confused as you were. Kamikaze pilots were willing to take the ultimate leap of faith and Kierkegaard was all about the 'leap of faith'. And in retrospect, they both seem a little crazy.

So, at the end of the day, has either Camus or Kierkegaard defeated the absurd? I'm not sure either philosopher has. What if we pit Camus and Kierkegaard against each other on the brainy battlefield; could we discern a clear victor? Again, I'm not sure we objectively could. (Just to clarify, by objectively I mean factually, without distortion by way of personal opinion or experience; not Kierkegaard's drawn-out definition of a straightforward word). I've always understood the role of artists and writers and great thinkers to be that of revealers rather than changers. They help us interpret the world, but do not necessarily change our beliefs. We are all thrown into this world with some sort of inherent belief system that develops over time and is certainly impacted by personal experiences. However, the inherent facets of our belief systems are steadfast and not easily altered. Thus, each individual is likely to find kinship with others who express similar beliefs. So again, I'm not sure either Camus or Kierkegaard could ever truly reign supreme over the other, but I'll throw them into the ring anyway, because I like Camus and Camus would ask “why not?”

CAMUS VS. KIERKEGAARD

The most glaring difference between Camus and Kierkegaard lies in how they approach the absurd. Kierkegaard seemingly embraces the absurd as an opportunity, a test of sorts. He suggests that in living, man must contend with the absurd, only in death will man truly be revealed. While alive, man must trust, despite the absurd, that there is more to existence than reason and logic can explain. In this respect, Kierkegaard's notion also posits a paradox: after man has exhausted reason and logic, he must deliver himself to the infinite, through faith - blind faith. Kierkegaard suggests that the collapse of reason is inevitable because reason is a human construct; all things human are bound to collapse and only from their collapse can the absolute erect.

Conversely, Camus dismisses the notion of the absolute. He proposes that there is no more to existence than meets the eye. Like Kierkegaard, Camus too, posits a paradox. Camus' paradox lies in the absurdity of living in a world that refuses to reveal its meaning. From this notion, Camus presents Sisyphus as the epitome of the absurd hero. In spite of his complete understanding of the meaningless repetition of rolling a rock up a mountain, just to have it roll back down to the summit, Sisyphus continues to repeat the task over and over again. I think maybe Sisyphus' acceptance of how the task will end, lessens the blow of its meaninglessness. I think in this, Camus presents an extremely effective example of how the acceptance of the meaningless of existence, can actually enhance one's quality of life. Sisyphus knows it will all end without any meaning and once life is over, it's over. As such, he takes pleasure in every action, no matter how repetitive, and in every feeling, painful or pleasurable.

If at all, Camus and Kierkegaard find some common ground in their refusal to surrender to the absurd. Both acknowledge the absurd and may at times seem overpowered by its magnitude, however, at no point does either man surrender. If any, the only form of surrender in either Camus or Kierkegaard's philosophy is the surrender of the mind to the incomprehensible. Both yield themselves to what they (as men) cannot possibly comprehend. Kierkegaard through a of a leap of faith and the belief in something far greater than worldly existence, and Camus through the acknowledgement of the meaningless and the struggle to make meaning of the void.

Ask me, and I'll tell you Camus wins – TKO. Ask the pope, and it's Kierkegaard by a landslide.

I'll take Camus' meaninglessness over Kierkegaard's blind faith any day. To me, if Camus is right and everything means nothing, than every single action we make and every single task we undertake becomes infinitely meaningful. The lack of any post-life atonement and the inability to alter the past or foretell the future, leaves nothing but the present. And with nothing but now, nothing but this life, this instant, means anything. Now is all we have, and it only seems natural to make the best of what we have - now.