Analetheism

My sense is that most philosophers believe or assume that they are in the business of proving, or attempting to prove, some thesis or other. Thus, an ethicist may think they are proving the truth of utilitarianism, or the falsity of Kantianism, or that morality is objective, or that abortion ought to be a woman’s prerogative and society ought to facilitate the means, etc. ad inf. Humility may temper this into a form of fallibilism, according to which they might, despite their confidence in their proof, nevertheless be mistaken. But even then the assumption would be that there is a truth of the matter, and so sooner or later somebody ought to be able to prove it.  I submit that this assumption is mistaken. Let me caution at once that I am not asserting this as a truth and do not intend to prove it. I am putting it forward as a hypothesis, which I myself happen to believe (although not in the sense of believing it is true but only in the sense that I am motivated to act according...

The theory of desirism, a form of amoralism, evolved from a very “traditional” (or anti-traditional) origin: atheism. The catalyst was reading a book by Mitchell Silver, [1] which considered and refuted contemporary attempts to “save” God for a scientific-minded world. What I took away from the book was that we have secular ways of achieving whatever is worth saving from a belief in God. Furthermore there are independent ways of refuting the arguments for God’s existence. So when, on different grounds, I suddenly found myself doubting the existence of morality , I had Silver’s template available to build my case. And indeed, I have ever since argued that we have nonmoral (or “amoral”) ways of achieving whatever is worth saving from a belief in morality, in addition to there being arguments directly refuting the belief in it (or the arguments for it). [2]   However, I subsequently encountered a major objection to the argument for morality’s non-existence, the so-called Companion...

I am in an odd relationship to truth these days. On one hand I am finding truth to be more and more elusive, to the point where I have doubts about the usefulness of talking about it and even question whether it exists at all. On the other hand I still act and feel as if truth were something I value highly.  In particular my self identification as a philosopher seems to me to be one with my commitment to truth. The most striking example of this was my suddenly dropping a career as a moralist to become an amoralist, literally in an instant when I had the “anti-epiphany” that moral values are entirely subjective (and so, insofar as morality is conceived as objective, morality does not even exist). This realization had profound and pervasive effects on both my professional work and my personal life. Yet there was not a moment’s hesitation on my part to go wherever my reason led me. Indeed, I have pursued the inquiry with unrelenting vigor to this day, 18 years later.   And (but?)...

Communication is a constant problem for me. It’s not because I have any trouble articulating my thoughts. Far from it: Try and silence me! And I am forever striving to speak or write precisely, with continual self-editing. Nor do I have a hearing problem, and I always strive to listen intently. The problem is that, as both a wordsmith and a philosopher, I have become aware of the ambiguity inherent in all verbal (not to mention other kinds of) expression.  My simplest way to express this idea about expression is to point to any half-decent dictionary: For every word there will be multiple definitions. These are not homonyms, mind you, but one and the same word having multiple meanings. (Savings) “bank” and (river) “bank” are homonyms, but even (savings) “bank” alone means:  noun an institution for receiving, lending, exchanging, and safeguarding money and, in some cases, issuing notes and transacting other financial business. the office or quarters of such ...

This is a story told to me by Jerry Shaffer: A Rabbi, doing marriage counseling, listened to the wife and said, "You are right." The husband said, "Wait, listen to me," and after listening, the Rabbi said, "You are right." The Rabbi's wife, listening behind the screen, said, "Rabbi, they can't both be right!" The Rabbi replied, "You are right too."              This could just as well be a Zen story. And like one of those, I think it captures the essence of human existence. It’s not just a joke! (Although it is also possible to view human existence as a joke.) It contains a profound wisdom. I for one have come to take it literally : It could very well be that they are both right .             And I don’t mean this to apply only to marital disputes, or even just human relations. For me it has become a guiding idea that all assertions of any kind (including 2 + 2 = 4) are b...