Monthly Archives: September 2008

“love” as a family-resemblance word

This is one of several recent posts in which I struggle with definitions of the word “love” as a way of thinking about how we define moral concepts, generally. Here I borrow the idea of “family-resemblance” from the later Wittgenstein. Sometimes, we recognize that people belong to a family, not because they all have one feature in common, but because each individual looks like many of his or her relatives in many ways. Maybe eight out of twelve family members have similar noses; a different six out of the twelve have the same color hair; and a yet another seven have the same chin. Then they all resemble each other, although there is no (non-trivial) common denominator. Wittgenstein argued that some–although not all–perfectly useful words are like this. They name sets of objects that resemble one another; but members of each set do not share any defining feature. Their resemblance is a statistical clustering, a greater-than-random tendency to share multiple traits.

A good example is “curry,” which the dictionary defines as a dish flavored with several ground spices. The word “curry” thus describes innumerable individual cases, where each one resembles many of the rest, but there is no single ingredient or other characteristic that they all share. Nor is there a clear boundary between curry and other dishes. Is bouillabaisse a curry? Clearly not, although the dictionary’s definition applies to it. Indeed, any definition will prove inadequate, yet we can learn to recognize a curry and distinguish it from other kinds of food. If we want to teach someone how to use the word “curry,” we will serve several particular examples and also perhaps some dishes that are not curries. If the student draws the conclusion that a curry must always contain coriander, or must be soupy, or must be served over rice, then we can serve another curry that meets none of these criteria. Gradually, he will learn to use the word. Even sophisticates will debate about borderline cases, but that is the nature of such concepts. Their lack of definition does not make them useless.

It seems to me that “love” is also a family-resemblance word, because there is no common denominator to love for ice cream, love for a newborn baby, love of country, brotherly love for humanity, self-love, tough love, Platonic love, making love, amor fati, philately, etc. Some (but not all) of these forms of “love” involve a high regard for the object. Some (but not all) imply a commitment to care for the object. Some (but not all) signify an intense emotional state. Dictionaries cope by providing numerous definitions of love, thus suggesting that “love” means “lust” or “enthusiasm” or “adoration” or “agape” or “loyalty.” But “love” never quite means the same as any of these other words, because we faintly recognize all of its other meanings whenever it is used in a particular way. For instance, “love” is always different from “lust,” just because the former word can mean loyal adoration as well as sexual desire.

The experience of love is complex because one has usually loved before in several different ways and has seen, heard, or read many descriptions of other loves; and these past examples and descriptions become part of one’s present experience. “Love” is a family-resemblance word that brings its family along when it visits.

When we read a literary work that vividly describes an example of love, it changes our experience of the concept. Any philosophical discussion of “love” must be a discussion of the experience; and therefore what we conclude philosophically must depend (in part) on how love has been portrayed for us in the arts. (Cf. Tzachi Zamir, Double Vision: Moral Philosophy and Shakespearean Drama, p. 127).

McCain and Obama in dialogue with young citizens

Sabrina Karim critically reviews statements that Senators McCain and Obama provided for the latest issue of Teaching Tolerance Magazine. Karim’s critique is thoughtful and target, but it also seems worth noting that both national candidates chose to write for this venue and both addressed young people as active, contributing citizens. They wouldn’t have thought that way 5 or 10 years ago.

Palin on commmunity organizing

This line from Sarah Palin’s convention speech has people in my world–the non-partisan world of civic engagement–furious: “I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a ‘community organizer,’ except that you have actual responsibilities.”

I wrote a letter to my new home-town newspaper, the Boston Globe, but they printed a better one instead. I submitted mine online and didn’t keep a copy, but the gist was this. It’s strange that a Republican candidate would imply that only people who work for the government and use tax dollars have “responsibilities.” Community organizers organize citizen volunteers in civil society, in the great tradition of the Committees of Correspondence, the abolitionists, the Civil Rights Movement, and the labor movement. There was a time when Republicans prided themselves on recognizing the power and responsibility of the private sector. But apparently they are so zealous to retain control of Washington power that they are willing to disparage active citizenship.

what would Kant say about Peggy Noonan?

Yesterday morning, the speechwriter and columnist Peggy Noonan published a piece in the Wall Street Journal arguing that Sarah Palin was a great choice for vice president: potentially a “transformative political presence.” Later the same day, she was recorded saying that Palin was not the best qualified person and was chosen because of “political bullshit about narratives and youthfulness.”

What’s wrong with this? Perhaps it’s evidence of a lie. In the morning, Noonan published a proposition about her own feelings toward Palin. In the afternoon, she said a different proposition about her own feelings. If the two claims were contradictory, then she lied unless she changed her mind. But I’m not sure they’re flatly contradictory, since the original column was at least somewhat conflicted: Palin, she wrote, “is either going to be brilliant and groundbreaking, or will soon be the target of unattributed quotes by bitter staffers shifting blame in all the Making of the President 2008 books.” I think that’s compatible with saying that Palin was chosen for a foolish reason. Noonan could be hopeful about Palin, yet suspicious of the reasons she was chosen. In short, the case for a lie seems weak to me.

Instead of treating Noonan’s private remarks as evidence of mendacity, we could accuse her of violating Kant’s principle of publicity: “All actions relating to the right of other human beings are wrong if their maxim is incompatible with publicity.” The idea is that one can test the rightness of an action by asking whether the actor’s private reason for so acting could be made public. If you cannot disclose the reason you have done P, you should not do P. Peggy Noonan’s private remarks suggest that she thought Palin was probably a bad choice. But she could not say that in the Wall Street Journal without hurting the Republican ticket and costing herself powerful friends. So she shouldn’t have written her Wall Street Journal column, according to at least one interpretation of Kant.

The publicity principle can seem over-demanding. Does it mean that one cannot mutter something to one’s spouse unless one would also announce it in an office meeting? The glare of publicity can expunge the safe shadows of a private or personal life. That thought gives me a little sympathy for public figures like Peggy Noonan who are caught on tape being frank with friends. (Jesse Jackson and many others have done the same.) But Kant offered his publicity principle in a book about politics (Perpetual Peace), and he qualified it by limiting it to “actions relating to the right of other human beings.” In other words, it applies to willing participants in the world of power, law, and politics–not to private individuals. By writing a column in the Wall Street Journal, Noonan committed herself to a public role. The implied promise to her readers was that she was acting transparently and sincerely in that public arena. If her private remarks show otherwise, then she violated Kant’s publicity principle.

half the kids are below average

Charles Murray, notorious for The Bell Curve and other provocations, has a new book entitled Real Education: Four Simple Truths for Bringing America’s Schools Back to Reality. I haven’t read the book, so I shouldn’t criticize it. But I have read the promotional materials and the op-ed version of Murray’s argument, which I can criticize as independent texts.

Murray emphasizes that “Half of the children are below average. Many children cannot learn more than rudimentary reading and math.” It supposedly follows that “too many people are going to college,” and our schools are diverting too many resources to the impossible task of preparing everyone for higher education. “America’s future depends on how we educate the academically gifted. An elite already runs the country, whether we like it or not. … It is time to start thinking about the kind of education needed by the young people who will run the country. The task is not to give them more advanced technical training, but to give them an education that will make them into wiser adults; not to pamper them, but to hold their feet to the fire.”

The op-ed version of this argument makes a very simple error. True, half the kids are below average, and it’s impossible to “Leave No Child Behind” if that means leaving no one below the median. But it is very possible to raise the actual skills and knowledge of the whole student population so that the median student in 2010 knows more than the median student knew in 1990. Certainly, the median student of today knows a whole bunch of things that nobody knew a century ago (even as he or she has lost some knowledge that used to be more common, such as some grasp of Latin). If the goal of education reform is to remove variation in student outcomes, it is–as Murray argues–doomed. But if the goal is to teach all students more, that can be achieved.

I do, by the way, agree that education is partly a positional good–there are always people who obtain more of it than others do, and they always have social and economic advantages. Thus raising the quantity and quality of an educational system will not necessarily reduce inequality. I also agree that some kind of elite is inevitable and that it’s important to teach them to connect their self-interest to the public interest. But neither of these doses of realism should discourage us from educating all kids better.