Before Thanksgiving last month, I had the opportunity to listen to a lecture about philosophy given by an ASU alumnus, Stephen Pluhacek, in regards to the thesis of his newest book, Philosophy at the Field's Edge, which he was promoting on my campus. He cited lots of esoteric, philosophical ideas unfamiliar to me: Epimethius, Heidegger's works, the Nihilism of Nietzsche, etc. But, in his speech, I was able to gather some of his intent. He posited that, perhaps, if human development had taken another turn 10,000 years ago, at the beginning of agriculture and domestication, that we might be a happier species. This is why he uses the metaphor of "the field."
Before agriculture, towards the end of the last ice-age, human beings were mostly hunter-gatherers, living in the stone age. It was with agriculture, that cities arose, and our paradigm of civilization was born. This is considered the "great leap forward" in human history: the beginning of philosophy, science, politics, religion, culture, etc. This happening has been held almost sacred by historians, and few thinkers have ever questioned the importance of it, or its causality to our current status as the most successful, and intelligent species on earth. His book is an exception.
It is popularly held that agriculture gave way to leisure, which provided the time and energy necessary for deep thought, experimentation, and refinement of existing technologies and art, as well as the invention of new types. So, as I listened to this philosopher talk about the philosophical life in the absence of agriculture, it seemed to me that he was forgetting this premise for his own art: biting the hand that feeds him, so to speak. However, I was reminded that many of the Native North American groups I have studied were hunter-gatherers right up until European contact, and some of them had very profound thoughts about the world around them, very refined art, and impressive technology. The influence of possible contact with Native Central Americans, who did practice agriculture, cannot be ignored in these cases, though. I never heard him reference Native Americans directly, but his lecture brought them to my mind time and again, which made me ask myself, "are we [western cultures] better off because we know the 'truth' about the world around us?"
Too bad we can't simply do as the eye doctor, when, after trying all different thicknesses and shapes of lenses, asks, "which is better: with, or without?" It is difficult to make a prediction about happiness and quality of life, without all the baggage associated with modernity, in a self-imposed stone age. Would we be better off? How could we tell? Is it possible to satisfy our needs, live in peace and equilibrium with nature, and retain and nurture our humanity? Interesting question. My answer would be a conditional "yes," conditional on the direction we want our species to go: if we wish to continue to progress toward an inter-stellar, extraterrestrial, super intelligent species, then I would say "no;" however, if we wish to work in the matrix of the natural world for which nature has fashioned us, my answer is "yes." The former is destination-oriented, the latter, while not void of goals (happiness, peace, etc.), is less concerned with progress, and more with perfection.
Before moving on, let me set something straight: I am a western man, a budding scientist, and I like it that way. If you heard romanticism in my voice during the last paragraph, it was not intentional. I am not inclined to believe the human race was happier during the stone age than we are now. Perhaps the world was more simple, instincts and emotions were more important to our survival, but I believe, as Hobbes did, that life in prehistory was "nasty, brutish, and short." I would like to believe in the noble savage, but my knowledge of human history wont allow it.
I think the reason why such romantic notions as the noble savage appeal to us, is because of the amoral, meaningless nature of our society at present: Nietzsche's nihilism. We yearn for the childhood of our existence, because the teen years are void of the imagined securities of infancy. I am currently experiencing this personally. Perhaps I should have gone through this years ago, when I was a teenager, but I've always been a late-bloomer. Even though I didn't know what "nihilism" was until recently, I have been experiencing it for some time. Nietzsche did not, however, encourage the advent of nihilism for its own sake, but to hasten its departure: the sooner we went through that phase, the sooner we could be done with it. He predicted that after this time of amorality and meaninglessness, we would find something higher and more meaningful to live for, and would finally mature as a species.
Dr. Pluhacek contended against Nietzsche by insisting that his philosophy, along with that of nearly all philosophers, is locked in our current paradigm of civilization dependent on agriculture and city life: philosophy in the field, and that nihilism would not be necessary to our happiness and maturity in a philosophy at the fields edge, or beyond the field. He didn't elaborate on this point, but once again I was reminded of the animistic worldview of pre-contact Native Americans, who found "meaning" in everything around them: incorrect meaning, of course, but meaning all the same.
Aside from being overly romantic, and playing to the "good old days" fallacy, my other criticism of his presentation is what I saw as the complete disregard for the biological side of human development (ie. evolution), emotion, and well-being. Granted, he is a philosopher, not a biologist, but he mentioned nothing about the biological causes of human motivation (our evolutionary drives), which we know to be mostly responsible for our sense of well-being and happiness. In my opinion, any philosophy which proposes to make mankind happier, must not be so naive as to presume this can be achieved in the absence of the biological sciences.
In response to the question I posed toward the beginning, I believe we are better off because we know the truth about the material world, and our place in it. I don't think we made a mistake by learning to cultivate the earth, and domesticate other animals (and ourselves). In fact, I believe it is part of our place in the world. I agree, however, that life in the city is not the lifestyle most conducive to human happiness. In a perfect world, I think we would see a return to the field, and not abandonment of it. In other words, people should divide their time between social life in the city, and living close to nature (growing their own food, taking care of domestic animals, and observing other animals in the wild, etc.).
In all, it was a stimulating argument, which provided me with much food for thought, but I don't think I'll buy his book.
Before agriculture, towards the end of the last ice-age, human beings were mostly hunter-gatherers, living in the stone age. It was with agriculture, that cities arose, and our paradigm of civilization was born. This is considered the "great leap forward" in human history: the beginning of philosophy, science, politics, religion, culture, etc. This happening has been held almost sacred by historians, and few thinkers have ever questioned the importance of it, or its causality to our current status as the most successful, and intelligent species on earth. His book is an exception.
It is popularly held that agriculture gave way to leisure, which provided the time and energy necessary for deep thought, experimentation, and refinement of existing technologies and art, as well as the invention of new types. So, as I listened to this philosopher talk about the philosophical life in the absence of agriculture, it seemed to me that he was forgetting this premise for his own art: biting the hand that feeds him, so to speak. However, I was reminded that many of the Native North American groups I have studied were hunter-gatherers right up until European contact, and some of them had very profound thoughts about the world around them, very refined art, and impressive technology. The influence of possible contact with Native Central Americans, who did practice agriculture, cannot be ignored in these cases, though. I never heard him reference Native Americans directly, but his lecture brought them to my mind time and again, which made me ask myself, "are we [western cultures] better off because we know the 'truth' about the world around us?"
Too bad we can't simply do as the eye doctor, when, after trying all different thicknesses and shapes of lenses, asks, "which is better: with, or without?" It is difficult to make a prediction about happiness and quality of life, without all the baggage associated with modernity, in a self-imposed stone age. Would we be better off? How could we tell? Is it possible to satisfy our needs, live in peace and equilibrium with nature, and retain and nurture our humanity? Interesting question. My answer would be a conditional "yes," conditional on the direction we want our species to go: if we wish to continue to progress toward an inter-stellar, extraterrestrial, super intelligent species, then I would say "no;" however, if we wish to work in the matrix of the natural world for which nature has fashioned us, my answer is "yes." The former is destination-oriented, the latter, while not void of goals (happiness, peace, etc.), is less concerned with progress, and more with perfection.
Before moving on, let me set something straight: I am a western man, a budding scientist, and I like it that way. If you heard romanticism in my voice during the last paragraph, it was not intentional. I am not inclined to believe the human race was happier during the stone age than we are now. Perhaps the world was more simple, instincts and emotions were more important to our survival, but I believe, as Hobbes did, that life in prehistory was "nasty, brutish, and short." I would like to believe in the noble savage, but my knowledge of human history wont allow it.
I think the reason why such romantic notions as the noble savage appeal to us, is because of the amoral, meaningless nature of our society at present: Nietzsche's nihilism. We yearn for the childhood of our existence, because the teen years are void of the imagined securities of infancy. I am currently experiencing this personally. Perhaps I should have gone through this years ago, when I was a teenager, but I've always been a late-bloomer. Even though I didn't know what "nihilism" was until recently, I have been experiencing it for some time. Nietzsche did not, however, encourage the advent of nihilism for its own sake, but to hasten its departure: the sooner we went through that phase, the sooner we could be done with it. He predicted that after this time of amorality and meaninglessness, we would find something higher and more meaningful to live for, and would finally mature as a species.
Dr. Pluhacek contended against Nietzsche by insisting that his philosophy, along with that of nearly all philosophers, is locked in our current paradigm of civilization dependent on agriculture and city life: philosophy in the field, and that nihilism would not be necessary to our happiness and maturity in a philosophy at the fields edge, or beyond the field. He didn't elaborate on this point, but once again I was reminded of the animistic worldview of pre-contact Native Americans, who found "meaning" in everything around them: incorrect meaning, of course, but meaning all the same.
Aside from being overly romantic, and playing to the "good old days" fallacy, my other criticism of his presentation is what I saw as the complete disregard for the biological side of human development (ie. evolution), emotion, and well-being. Granted, he is a philosopher, not a biologist, but he mentioned nothing about the biological causes of human motivation (our evolutionary drives), which we know to be mostly responsible for our sense of well-being and happiness. In my opinion, any philosophy which proposes to make mankind happier, must not be so naive as to presume this can be achieved in the absence of the biological sciences.
In response to the question I posed toward the beginning, I believe we are better off because we know the truth about the material world, and our place in it. I don't think we made a mistake by learning to cultivate the earth, and domesticate other animals (and ourselves). In fact, I believe it is part of our place in the world. I agree, however, that life in the city is not the lifestyle most conducive to human happiness. In a perfect world, I think we would see a return to the field, and not abandonment of it. In other words, people should divide their time between social life in the city, and living close to nature (growing their own food, taking care of domestic animals, and observing other animals in the wild, etc.).
In all, it was a stimulating argument, which provided me with much food for thought, but I don't think I'll buy his book.
