Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Turing Chapters 7 & 8

       In reading The Enigma, I have tried to relate Alan Turing and the virtues of a scientist as much as possible.  I have looked for traits in Turing that resonate with those of an exemplary scientist, and I can definitely see some characteristics that we have seen in Einstein/McClintock/Feynman.  Turing's ability to collaborate, for example, fits the list of virtues that we saw in class.  Yet, Turing's curiosity seems to stem from something other than a pure wonder at nature and its processes.  In chapter 7, Hodges comments, "The prehistoric paintings rather suited Alan, who always wanted to draw nature from scratch himself" (p. 396).  This seems almost opposite to what a scientist would want, and it hints more at Turing's mathematical mindset than his scientific mindset.  In fact, an exemplary scientist has a passion to figure out the laws of nature, and to establish new knowledge about nature.  In the least, Turing's biography has served to show how practices outside of science can adapt the scientific virtues in order to achieve their own telos.
      The boy-man dichotomy that made up Turing's personality throughout his life may at first seem like a defect.  However, it is this wavering between what Hodges calls "forcefulness and naivete" that may have been beneficial in Turing's professional life.  As a class, we have discussed how both confidence and a childish disposition can be traits of an exemplary scientist.  For Turing, it is his confidence in his knowledge that allowed him to push ideas in spite of his struggles, and it is his childlike nature that fueled his passion for his work.  Even for a mathematician, these qualities can be highly valuable.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Turing Ch. 5 and 6

As with all of the scientists we have studied in LB492, Alan Turing's personality, as Hodges describes it, is as unique as they come.  In discussing Feynman, I started to really value the idea of charisma for a scientist.  I began to see how powerful sharing the narrative of an exemplary scientist could be.  I have tried to see this trait in Turing, but I think it is lost amidst his introversion. Yet, Turing is most definitely an exemplary scientist (or probably more-so a mathematician*).  The part that stands out in spite of his seemingly timid personality is his full commitment to the other virtues.  Turing was an excellent collaborator, his curiosity was undeniable, and he improved his communication skills as he grew older. The recurring theme with each of these scientists is once again seen in Turing's story: An exemplary scientist can compensate for a lack of one virtue, given that it is not vital, by excelling in the other virtues.  Curiosity seems to be an exception, as each of the studied scientists, including Turing, seem to possess an innate wonder and passion for science.  In fact, it is this curiosity that seems to bring out the scientist in Turing.  His work may involve complex mathematics, but his wonder for the world is powerful.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Turing Ch. 3-4, Bridge Passage

      While Turing's connection to the war as a scientist may not be a completely new subject (see: Feyman and Einstein), it certainly is a unique one.  While our previous scientists have had some significant roles in the development of wartime technology, Turing's work with the Enigma and deciphering code was directly related to the Allies chance at winning the war.  The importance of this is that, situationally, we can look at what virtues were beneficial to Turing as a scientist involved in war.  The first virtue that comes to mind after reading these chapters is Turing's patience and perseverance.  With the German's altering the Enigma several times during the war, it took incredible perseverance to continue the work when all previous work was rendered useless.  Turing also collaborated often, including his work at Hut 8 with others, accepting ideas for his Bombe, and serving as a liaison to America.  Turing's focus on the subject at hand was also intense, shown by a comment from an associate at Bell Labs about how Turing could not even give his mind time to give the conventional "hello!" in the lab hallways.  Turing's restlessness also helped.  In times when the capture of a German U-boat was necessary for the cipher work at Hut 8 to continue, Turing did not remain idle.  Instead, he continued to find ways to exploit the full potential of the existing Bombes.  All of these qualities were both beneficial and necessary for Turing to succeed as a scientist at this time.
    At first, I though it would be impossible to speak of Turing without mentioning the impact of his sexuality.  Yet, Hodges only mentions Turing's sexuality a few times during the chapters on the World War.  When Hodges does mention this, it seems to be disconnected from Turing's professional work.  Turing may have been a gay, atheist scientist.  In the end, though, only the latter part of that title really matters in a discussion of his scientific virtues.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Alan Turing: Chapters 1 & 2

      In After Virtue, McIntyre describes how, in today's society, friendships are referred to as simply a particular affection between individuals.  Aristotle views this type of friendship as trivial, and places above it a type of friendship that involves a mutual pursuit of knowledge (a common good).  Turing's relationship with Christopher Morcom fits this Aristotelian version well.  Morcom was more so an educational/scientific counterpart to Alan, sharing discoveries and conclusions.  Friendships like these seem to be a necessary stimulation of Turing's passion for science as a young man.  Andrew Hodges even mentions that this relationship was deeper than a simple liking for one another, and that as a result of Morcom's early death, Turing had felt as if "he had surrendered half his mind, only to have it drop into a void" (Hodges p. 46).  Turing had an understanding of this Aristotelian friendship, and he was able to indulge in it at an early age.
      It is also important to note that although we have produced a somewhat specific definition of science, or at least the telos of a scientist, many things fit this definition.  Science, according to LB492, is the pursuit of new knowledge of the world through reproducible, verifiable methods.  While Turing's work may seem purely mathematical, Hodges makes certain to disband such a belief.  Hodges notes that Turing's Computable Numbers was not a product of scientific method, it did involve a process of "doubting the axioms rather than measuring effects" (Hodges p. 107).  Turing uses the skepticism that is a vital virtue to the scientist.  His doubt of the accepted concepts allowed him to seek out new truths about math, which could in turn be applied to the world.  In this sense, Turing bypasses scientific method, but he contributes his ideas in understandable, verifiable ways.  He is doing science.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Feynman Part 5

      It's not completely shocking for Feynman to say "I wanted to convey an emotion I have about the beauty of the world."  We can see, through his extravagant story-telling and friendly disposition, an unmistakable passion for not only science, but for life in general.  In terms of the exemplary scientist, I think this quality is one that can be seen as a relevant virtue.  In the least, it cannot hurt.  A passion for life seems to precede a passion for science.  Our exemplary scientists are curious about science because they are curious about the world.  They respect its beauty, and they search for explanations that define such amazing natural laws.  Feynman just so happens to say it to us directly.
      Ironically, Feynman's efforts at learning to draw contain some valuable points about how science should be taught.  By juxtaposing the virtues of science with the virtues of art, Feynman is able to explain some crossover between the two.  As someone studying chemistry, I am all too familiar with learning strict methods and techniques in my classes.   Yet, Feynman stresses that these are not the only valuable concepts, and that the "spirit" to apply such methods must be taught.  Feynman's ability to draw virtue from other practices and apply it to his own life is remarkable.  Our discussion on how virtues are dependent on the particular situation reminds me how valuable this talent can be.  Feynman could interpret virtuous action in one situation and examine how such a virtue would work in science.  An exemplary scientist should strive to see how science could always be improved in this way.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Feynman Parts 1-3

    Feynman's childlike interjections, prevalent in his description of his childhood, are especially powerful.  These interjections are just the basis of the point I would like to make, though.  Feyman's remarks that certain concepts were "sensational" or "great" seem to follow him beyond simply his childhood.  His passion for science is obvious and believable.  Feyman's autobiography is written in an engaging, conversational tone.  We finally have a scientist that seems like he's talking to/for us! And he's good at it, too.
       Although it seems cryptic, I think Feynman has a fairly specific point that he makes in his opening chapters.  With his experiences, from impressing a man by fixing a radio to annoying his coworkers at a hotel, Feyman is sharing with us an odd and undesirable characteristic that many humans have: We give up. Feyman's ability to think through problems, without taking constant action, seems to be one of his best qualities as a scientist.  And yet, people in his life are sometimes astounded by this quality and sometimes ignorant of its worth.  This "every problem has a solution" is the driving force behind Feyman's passion for science.  On the other hand, these struggles help Feyman realize the difficulty in innovation.  As a scientist, does your work truly help if it cannot be understood by others?  I see a glimpse of McClintock in this question.   Feyman's belief that some people can learn, but not apply learned material, is interesting.  Maybe the difficulty in innovation is not in the explanation of concepts, but in the inability of some to apply knowledge to practical situations.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Einstein Ch. 25 & Epilogue

      The more Isaacson mentions Einstein's unrelenting pursuit of a unified field theory, the more I begin to believe that Einstein's stubbornness was a scientific vice in his later years.  Isaacson obviously emphasizes Einstein's commitment to this project that never come to fruition.  It seems that the mind of a genius was solely committed to the formation of complex sets of equations and ideas that ultimately could not challenge quantum theory.  I think a large problem with research in our age now reflects this dedication to an idea with no empirical basis.  Sometimes researchers have an idea of what results would be popular/profitable and instead of unbiased observation, the scientific method is ignored and particular results are pursued.  Michio Kaku's edition of The Best American Science Writing 2012 includes an article written on a study of red wine and the effect on aging.  The purpose of the article is to highlight when science falls victim to vice. Researchers thought they had found a reversing effect on aging in red wine, and despite the fact that the results could not be reproduced and verified by other researchers, the "sexy" idea of wine being good for human health hit the public sooner that it should have.  The problem here is that the public has an affinity to these types of ideas, and other research that discourages it never reaches a public sphere.  Even today, red wines effect on aging lingers in mainstream beauty magazines and websites.  This greed is in no way a virtuous quality of a scientist, as it is a prime example of Macintyre's external good.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Einstein Ch. 21-24

         Although Einstein's involvement with the Manhattan Project was limited (by choice and by the FBI's discouraging report), it still surprised me that Einstein was active in notifying the US government and setting the basis for the project.  I believe, for the most part, that this is surprising because we have been looking at strictly the virtues of a scientist in class.  Einstein's involvement here goes beyond the telos of a scientist, although the project was science related.  The letters written to President Roosevelt did not add to the existing knowledge about the world. They were not based on the scientific method.  Rather, his letters were the catalyst for one of the world's major events that had unpredictable consequences.  In addition, it seems uncomfortable to speak of those who led the Manhattan Project.  As a complicated situation, the project doesn't necessarily shed good light on it's creators.  I think it is an interesting concept in regard to the scientific telos, as well as the human telos.
     I also think it is important, especially in these chapters, to give credit to Isaacson for his style of writing.  Isaacson conveys the pure reverence that Einstein's colleagues had for him through great prose.  Without saying it directly, Isaacson gives us the message that Einstein has achieved the internal good of science.  In fact, the end of Einstein's life is not even celebrated in terms of his science, which has been affirmed countless times.  Rather, he is celebrated for his "sweetness and humanity"; qualities that put him beyond merely an exemplary scientist.  Regardless of his flaws, Einstein was an excellent scientist, and a great human being.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Einstein Ch. 17-20

      "...he dedicated himself honestly and sometimes courageously to actions that he felt transcended selfish desires in order to encourage human progress and preservation of individual freedoms." (p. 393)

      Isaacson ends chapter 17 with a comment that, in my opinion, seems to encompass how Einstein lived his life in general as a human being and, more specifically, as a scientist.  Using the scope of After Virtue, I interpret Isaacson's comment to mean that Einstein was dedicated to the advancement of the human race, a devotion he clearly showed through his work as a scientist.  Einstein thought beyond the allures of fame and recognition (external goods), and simply aimed to become an excellent scientist in adding knowledge to the world (internal good).  I think this quote is significant, as it shows that Einstein's virtues as a scientist extended to his life as a human being in general.

       Last week we discussed how Einstein matured and transformed as a scientist.  We posed questions regarding how his actions changed as he grew older, and how he embodied the scientific virtues during these times.  Yet, there are some things about Einstein that seem to never have changed.  His distraction, for example, usually defined by a devotion to another theory/though experiment/group of equations, never wavered throughout his life.  While we may question if Einstein maintained every scientific virtue we've seen up to this point, we cannot say that his devotion to science and his devotion to achieving the internal standards of excellence in science were ever lost.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Einstein: Ch. 13-16

      These chapters heavily described a set of transformations that Einstein went through both in his personal life and his scientific life as a middle-aged man.  The first transformation is Einstein's first time submitting to the command of an authority figure (Blumenfeld).  Einstein seems to no longer be restless in his scientific life after the completion of relativity.  The affirmation of his theory also seems to affect his personal life.  I believe one of Einstein's bigger failures as a scientist was his stubbornness in defending relativity.  As a young scientist, Einstein challenged many of the dominant theories in physics.  He was a constant, creative skeptic that continually searched for truths about the world.  Yet, Einstein failed to take the same critical approach with his own theory.  Instead, his lack of restlessness and commitment to finding a simple, unified theory prevented Einstein from making continual major contributions to the quickly growing quantum theory.
      However, it would be unfair to say that Einstein contributed nothing to science during this period.  Isaacson believes that Einstein was still valuable to science at this time.  I share this sentiment in relation to Einstein's debates with Niels Bohr.  Although Einstein does not apply criticism to relativity, he actively challenges Bohr and his peers to defend their theories with a series of thought experiments.  Although Einstein's intentions were to prove that quantum theory did not completely describe reality, he indirectly induced critical thinking from his colleagues.  For this reason, I believe the aforementioned vices (stubbornness and situational skepticism) can still be overshadowed by the consequences of Einstein's genius.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Einstein: Ch. 9-12

      Initially, I see no substance in Isaacson's chapter on Einstein's divorce with regard to the scientific virtues.  Science is mentioned very little, and the drama Einstein seemed to carry with him through his personal life seems, for the most part, separate from his scientific life.  While Einstein's personal life may be hectic at this point, I think it is starting to become apparent that Einstein is comfortable with his achievements in science at this point.  His reaction to possibly having cancer was alarming.  Where was the passion that we've talked about in class for so long? Earlier we labelled passion as a required scientific virtue, so Einstein may not be an exemplary scientist at this specific point in his life.  Yet, Isaacson immediately follows this chapter with Overbye's quote on Einstein's "sustained brilliance" (p. 255).  Isaacson shows that despite completing the theory of relativity (and its accompanying struggles), Einstein was able to perservere and contribute greatly to the scientific community.
      Einstein's fame brings us to the subject of communication within the scientific community as well as the public.  Where Barbara McClintock failed to comprehensibly communicate her findings to her peers, which ultimately prevented her ideas from promptly reaching the public, Einstein was able to explain his ideas to the public through easily understandable thought experiments.  This virtuous ability allowed Einstein to further pursue the scientific telos in terms of adding knowledge of the world.  In this instance, the theory of relativity had an international impact.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Einstein 5-8

      The concept of the advantages of youthful thinking strike me the most in these chapters.  An obvious dichotomy in the life of Albert Einstein is between his youthful stubbornness to accept conventional schools on thought and his veteran stubbornness to concede the pursuit for a unified theory.  Isaacson quotes, "He had the brashness needed to scrub away the layers of conventional wisdom that were obscuring the cracks in the foundation of physics, and his visual imagination allowed him to make conceptual leaps that eluded more traditional thinkers" (93).  As we spoke of in class, it is Einstein's passion and creative skepticism that allowed him to make great contributions to the filed of physics.  However, as we will later see, this creative imagination lends itself to a specific, unmoving idea later on in Einstein's life.  It is at that point where the scientific virtues are blurred.
      ANother interesting concept that arises from any discussion of quantum theory is the impact on the scientific telos.  As defined in class, the scientific telos is to add knowledge about the world to the existing group of facts through testable methods.  But does a theory that works in probabilities rather than causalities fit into this? Although Einstein struggled with the non-deterministic consequences of quantum theory, there seems to be no true reason to deny the theory outright (unless on the grounds of religious devotion).  While such a theory complicates knowledge about the world, it still allows for further discussion and experimentation in the field of physics.  The scientific telos can still be achieved.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Einstein: Chapter's 1-4

       The most obvious quality that impacted Einstein's scientific life, as noted by Isaacson, was his curiosity.   It can be stated in several ways.  It seems that once again the concept of the highly motivated investigator appears in the biography of a great scientist.  It is said in many ways.  The exemplary scientist is passionate, always skeptical, and does not conform to the dominant schools of thought.  Isaacson paints Einstein to be an "icon of our age" with regard to these qualities.  At the end of the opening chapter, Issacson offers a powerful quote from Einstein on the importance of individuality.  Einstein's belief that "only the individual can produce the new ideas" struck me the most.  I am not sure if we are doing enough in science today with younger students to foster individuality, creativity, and most importantly, true passion for science.  I was lucky enough in high school to be steered toward a one week program in St. Louis that gave an in depth look at different practices within medicine and science.  Without this program, I don't believe I would have formed such an interest in science, and yet opportunities like these do not seem prevalent for students in high school.  I believe fostering individuality requires the expansion of opportunities for young learners to explore, in real scenarios, what it means to be a scientist.  Textbooks and rote memorization, as Einstein would most likely agree, have a finite value.
       Another distinction I see in Einstein's autobiography is the description of personality.  Isaacson notes religious beliefs, musical preferences, and the general eccentricity of Einstein's personality.  We did not see this with McClintock, but both can be labelled as great scientists.  I believe, as scientists, the telos does not vary between individuals.  However, as humans, the experiences an individual has that shapes their personal characteristics can vary, while those characteristics can consequently allow them to achieve their scientific telos.  In other words, McClintock developed her dedication to science through her independence, while Einstein learned to love science through the exploration of his early passions.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

McClintock: Failures of the Scientific Community and Fighting Norms


While McClintock’s difficulties in communicating the results of her research to her colleagues are understandable, the backlash she received for it is shocking to me.  Keller notes that criticisms came even from a frequent visitor of Cold Spring Harbor who most likely knew McClintock well.  The surprising part of these criticisms is that this group of highly intelligent geneticists failed to recognize that such harsh condemnation of her work as a well-respected researcher would suppress further communication.  I think that this consequence represents a failure of the scientific community.  The telos of a scientist to gain new knowledge about the world through reproducible investigation is interrupted.  Such a response combats the pursuit of understanding.  McClintock’s peers seem to have given little effort in understanding an obviously difficult concept, and chose instead to negatively respond.
            These last chapters also bring up a virtue that is well represented by McClintock, especially in her work with transposition.  Keller quotes McClintock’s advice, “There’s no such thing as a central dogma into which everything will fit…So if the material tells you, ‘It may be this,’ allow that” (p. 179).  Most of the problems that came with the response to her work on transposition resulted from her colleagues’ loyalty to former theories and ideologies.  McClintock’s work as an exemplary scientist establishes what should be required for the virtuous scientist.  Her investigations are made with an open mind.  Her conclusions are taken from what is in front of her. Dominant schools of thought on particular subjects should have little influence on the interpretation of new observations.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

McClintock Chapters 5-8


          Chapter 5 reiterates the importance of the "professional friendship" defined earlier in class discussion.  McClinctock's colleague Lewis Stadler appears to be most aware of the telos of a scientist in that he recognized McClintock's unique abilities and committed to finding a position that suited them.  Regardless of her individuality and independence, I believe McClintock needed these professional offers due to conflicting interests of practices external to the sciences.  Practices such as administration, which often pursue reputation and money rather than knowledge, stifled McClintock's ability to research and discover.  In situations like these, professional friendships are not merely supportive.  They are vital in the culmination of an exemplary scientist.
            Another stifling effect that McClintock was able to avoid personally was the impact of orthodoxy within science.  Although Keller paints McClintock’s skepticism towards the dominant theories in her field as another innate, eccentric quality, I believe this skepticism is a natural reaction of a true scientist.  Those who aim at discovering new truths about the world should work with the understanding that few things are definite.  New knowledge can be gained with the help of existing theories, but it can also be found to disprove them as well. 
            One concept I struggled with in these chapters is Keller’s comment that, “No scientist ever develops in a vacuum, but it is difficult to find any direct intellectual influences that can be held responsible for this element in her thought” (p. 103).  This sentiment is also seen in Darwin’s autobiography as well.  For me, this is an unsettling idea.  If the development of a true, exemplary scientist originates from internal influences, scientists must be born scientists, right? These readings are slowly shrinking the scope of my definition of a scientist, and sometimes the specifics are troubling.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Barbara McClintock: Obscurity and Passion


            Chapter one’s focus in McClintock’s biography seems to be on the state of the sciences, namely biology, during her lifetime.  It is important to note that McClintock experienced multiple revolutions in biology, followed by periods in which scientists remained firmly assured with previous theories.  However, as more of a naturalist, McClintock did not fail to suggest an idea like transposition, even though it starkly challenged the unidirectionality of the  “central dogma” as coined by Crick.  This biography does not seem to suggest that McClintock performed her unpopular work out of fearlessness, but rather that she was simply an “impeccable investigator” (p. 10).
            Reading this biography induced comparisons to our previous readings.  In terms of popularity and recognition, there is a large difference between Darwin/Franklin and McClintock.  I’ll admit that before this class, the name was only faintly familiar.  While we can read the autobiographies of Franklin and Darwin, much of the primary writings of McClintock involve her scientific work.  For this reason, Keller’s job in writing McClintock’s story is unfathomably huge. The complexities of scientific virtue range from the wrinkled clothes of Darwin to the neatly pressed clothes of McClintock.  While McClintock’s story may require more active investigation, understanding how she performed her work is significant in realizing what scientific values she upheld.
            A more explicit point I took from the opening chapters of this biography was McClintock’s parents’ encouragement to follow passions with the utmost severity.  It seems that McClintock learned to pursue that which excited her.  Luckily for the world of biology, that passion was science.  Her development does beg the following question though: is any part of required education a factor that stifles real passion for knowledge?  I understand that a range of subjects needs to be presented to adolescent students for them to experience all possibilities.  However, I’m not sure that required education does not “burn out” young learners.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Darwin Obituaries


Darwin’s obituary, as written by Huxley, emphasizes the reasoning behind LB 492’s partial dedication to the storied scientist.  As Huxley says, from his scientific work to his social conduct, Darwin is the “ideal of a man of science.”  It is Huxley’s writing that finally connects some of the key ideas that we’ve seen through Franklin, Darwin, and the survey discussed in class last week.  Buzz words like “investigation” and “devoted” evoke ideas of the virtuous scientist.  Thinking back on the class survey, I can’t help but agree that curiosity must be a requirement for the exemplary scientist.  A scientist must not only pursue knowledge, but also contain the inner motivation to do so.  He must have, as Huxley calls it, the “central fire” that represents passion in the pursuit of knowledge.  The Times obituary brings another perspective to Darwin’s history.  Full pages of university representatives, political figures, colleagues, friends, and family definitively prove that Darwin flourished as a social scientist and human being as a whole.  As these relationships retain such respect at the end of life, I believe it speaks volumes of Darwin’s character.  On another hand, the tone of the Times obituary is much different.  Acute observations of the funeral procession and extensive lists of the mourners allude to the methods of observation that Darwin spoke of in his autobiography.  In doing so, Times employs a subtle tribute to the great scientist.  
Einstein's obituary from Times takes a different tone altogether.  In Einstein's, we see a stark individualism.  Although Einstein definitely was an individual thinker, generating theory in physics while wearing wrinkled clothing, his individualism was remarkable and admirable.  Einstein's obituary focuses greatly on his sense of morality, quoting directly his thoughts on equality and free thinking.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Darwin: Continued


In the second halkf of Darwin’s autobiography, we again find parallels to the philosophy presented by MacIntyre.  Darwin seems to be pleased with his life, as he has appropriately devoted it to science, and his contributions and successes are representative of the standards of excellence he achieved in his lifetime.  However, he also admits that he wishes he had done more for his fellow man.  In class we spoke of human beings as social animals.  I think in order to be a virtuous individual, we must not only experience friendship in the Aristotelian way, but we must also devote time to philanthropy.  We must build friendships and contribute to the common good of our companions, peers, and family.  Being social defines who we are, but to me, it seems to thin of a requirement. 

Darwin explicitly notes the qualities of each of his colleagues and the lessons they have taught him.  It seems as if these comments are a lesson to his children on taking knowledge from others at every opportunity.  As social beings, there is inherently an exchange when two people meet.  I believe Darwin acknowledges and values such an exchange, as he seems to emphasize it to his children. 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

The Autobiography of Charles Darwin: Pt. 1

          It’s hard not to read the opening sections of Darwin’s autobiography without looking through the Macintyre “After Virtue” lens.  Concepts of internal goods and practices appear quite prevalently, as Darwin notes that he “had strong and diversified tastes, much zeal for whatever interested me, and a keen pleasure in understanding any complex subject or thing.”  Darwin’s simple desire to become a better scientist seems to be his greatest virtuous characteristic.  He notes that favorable responses from the general public was simply a fleeting pleasure (an external good!) that did not trump his aspirations to build on the world’s existing scientific knowledge.  Darwin even notes that he “worked to the utmost during the voyage from the mere pleasure of investigation,” although he also notes his ambition to take place among established and respected scientists as well.  Although the latter does show Darwin’s acknowledgement of goods external to science, his prioritizing of the former establishes a good basis for virtue under the MacIntyre scope.
            The most interesting quote I found in this opening section of Darwin’s autobiography, however, was one that exemplifies what I believe is a virtuous responsibility of the scientist.  In speaking of his father and the suicide at the bank, Darwin says, “It would have been dishonourable in my father to have used his professional knowledge for his private advantage.”  This sentiment extends well beyond Darwin’s father.  I believe scientists often possess a knowledge that is vulnerable to disaster when it is communicated to the public sphere.  Therefore, it is important for scientists to avoid taking advantage of a public naïveté when it comes to scientific research.  Scientists who forge data/results to gain favorable response from the inexperienced public pursue merely an external good, rather than the internal good of becoming a good, practicing scientist. 

Sunday, February 2, 2014

After Virtue: Ch. 16-18

MacIntyre's closing chapters begin to take a hard, critical look at the concept of work in the present.  What he says is mostly undeniable.  The concept of the internal good has been largely ripped from work in our generation.  We are told, as students, to avoid pursuing a career with the allure of significant income. Yet how can we avoid such decisions?  Most students fall into a large amount of debt in pursuing a career.  If we choose to switch our focus, we often must remain at school longer and accumulate more debt.  I believe the average person is not selfish, but rather that he is interested in securing a comfortable life for himself and his family.  When our current goals do not meet these expectations, how can we not desire a more economically secure life?
MacIntyre's views on justice as a virtue also interested me.  If we are to believe that virtues are simply a medium through which we can follow a particular set of rules, than that set of rules must be defined.  Yet, MacIntyre claims our "individualist" culture cannot reach a consensus on such a set of rules.  MacIntyre notes that our concepts of entitlement here are fragmented and illegitimate, as most claims of entitlement can be described as violently taken from native people.  However, I am not sure that realizing what the human purpose is could be much easier than reaching an agreement on a set of moral rules.  I believe our society has chosen to make an effort on a set of rules because it is easier than defining or investigating the purpose of human life. Some agreement can occur on the subject of right/wrong with respect to a set of rules, and some agreement can be made on the reason for human life.  I am just not sure if one is more reasonable than the other.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

After Virtue Ch. 11-15


What sticks out initially in these chapters of After Virtue are MacIntyre’s comments on Aristotle and his discussion of telos and the good of man.  Our discussion in class on the “call no man happy until he is dead” quote brought us into the following question: How do we define what human life is or is supposed to be? If accurate time telling makes a good watch, can we find a functional concept that defines human life in order to draw conclusions on what makes a good man?  In this sense, we were discussing the meaning of life and how to fulfill life’s purpose.  While the descriptions are vague, as Macintyre notes, it appears to me as if Aristotle’s claims of eudaimonia as the “good for man” are more specific than any current arguments.  Macintyre’s comment that the educated moral agent “does what is virtuous because it is virtuous” therefore answers our earlier questions on intention and habit.  The virtuous person acts in virtuous ways simply due to a devotion to virtue.
            Macintyre’s first, and admittedly tentative, definition of virtue on page 191 gives a unique perspective.  The concept of internal goods is interesting.  Macintyre’s claim, or at least the claim that I interpret, says that virtues give us the means to achieve the good that is inherent in any particular practice, without the allure of an external good that would blemish the use of such virtue.  His analogy with chess and candy gives an understandable account of this.  This seems difficult, however, in a world so heavily based on economics and personal financial status.  People often say that they love their job, but money is also a huge factor in how we live.  Does the fact that we strive for better income damage our chances to achieve a virtuous nature?

Sunday, January 26, 2014

After Virtue: Ch. 5-10: The Individual, Fact, and Explanations of Human Behavior


          MacIntyre methodically demonstrates the disparity between arguments involving factual premises with evaluative conclusions and those that use “man” as a functional concept (as the former does).  Outside of societal/family roles, “man” cannot be used in terms of functional concepts, and therefore the “no ‘ought’ conclusion from ‘is’ premises” principle fails in making moral arguments.  Although this is slightly over my head, it is certainly interesting.  To remove a random individual from all functional concepts that arise from roles is to reduce such an individual to the “modern self.”  It may seem unnerving to think that, today, we often draw conclusions like these.  We create certain functional standards for the human race, and draw moral conclusions when others uphold or neglect such standards.  But are these conclusions 100% wrong? I understand MacIntyre’s hypothesis and I appreciate his assertions, but sometimes I think it may be okay for our methods of moral thinking to change.  In reference to our class discussion, is the prideful person guilty of moral misconduct even if he exhibits humble behavior?  Was Benjamin Franklin moral because he made those virtues habit, or does habit not constitute a purely virtuous person?
            Macintyre’s assertions on experience and scientific knowledge are also intriguing.  Our experiences cannot be deemed as concrete scientific knowledge, since they require validation from theory.  I take from this that a holistic approach is necessary in transition from individual experiences to scientific conclusions.  This is somewhat obvious.  No broad knowledge can be derived from a specific event.  MacIntyre also notes the suggestion following Quine’s position that the inability to remove “beliefs and enjoyments and fears” from the study of human behavior means that no “law-like generalizations” may follow.  It seems backward that we believe theory and experience are a necessary basis for scientific knowledge, yet we also allow moral generalizations to be easily upheld as fact.  Are they not similar concepts? Doesn’t morality have as many gray areas as science?

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

After Virtue: Chapters 1-4


         Although Alasdair MacIntyre presents his hypothesis initially as implausible by necessity, it is hard for me to consider the paramaters surrounding his arguments without a proper background in philosophy.  For this reason, I could not necessarily consider the credibility of his contentions from experience.  Rather, MacIntyre’s defense is the sole influence for the inexperienced philosopher.  His initial claim about the idea that modern rival arguments often are based on different values and therefore cannot be rationally solved was a simple yet new conclusion to me. MacIntyre’s claims on emotivism are striking, as they setup his assertion that the language of morality is in disorder.  His distinction of emotivism as a theory of use rather than a theory of meaning, seen in the “7x7 = 49!!” example, explain how emotivism could be rejected by philosophers of the past. MacIntyre claims that today emotivism is not only the most widely accepted platform, but it is also widely considered to be true.  His claims that this misunderstanding is the basis for our current stage of moral despair are plausible and coherent.  It is interesting to read MacIntyre’s book and consider that our current debates on morality may not only be solvable, but that they are also built on a false set of principles.  

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Benjamin Franklin (Cont'd 71-156)


          Other than the obvious difference in language, this section in Franklin’s autobiography might be indistinguishable from a popular issues debate.  Franklin reveals himself as a proponent of education for women, an increasingly hot topic today, as women have both caught and surpassed their male counterparts in earning several types of degrees yearly.  Franklin also holds a stark position on vaccinations, noting that it is an inherent responsibility of parents to give their children the best ability to avoid disease.  His stance on war preparation, the availability of affordable education, consideration of an educational system without a predominant religious ownership, and his suggestion for free health care for the poor all resonate with popular issues in our country today.  But rather than labeling him in contemporary political terms, perhaps it is more useful to look at the root of these opinions.  Are these values that Franklin holds timeless?  Does the existence of debate on these positions reveal anything about their worth? 
            Franklin often speaks of vanity as an unavoidable consequence of mankind.  His autobiography notes every achievement, and reasonably so. But his opinions on the church and his own development of a virtuous group are the most interesting.  Franklin notes that he usually enjoys sermons, unless they focus less on virtue and too heavily on the practice of religion just for the sake of it.  The creation of his own organized “creed of virtue” bears a remarkable resemblance to the church.  He solicits young men to join such a community and initiates members through his practice and their devotion. However dangerously close he gets, however, Franklin impresses me in joining members together to form a non-religious pursuit of virtue.  I believe his view on religious is a fair one.  His universal method is uncommon, but focuses on the moral instruction of the conscious in the pursuit of moral perfection. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Benjamin Franklin: Beyond the Kite and the Key


          Ben Franklin’s writing often parallels Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe from several angles. Other than Franklin’s direct mention of a longing for the sea, minute details regarding food and specific amounts of money owed allude to Defoe’s novel, considered the prototype for all English novels.  Colonial interpretations of Robinson Crusoe fit this autobiography in the sense that both Crusoe and Franklin find ways to display vanity in knowledge and experience.  Franklin holds almost every person he introduces in his autobiography to some amount of debt, and he often places his prose in competition not with his peers, but rather those much older than him.  Franklin’s emphasis on reason and understanding also highlights some themes from the Enlightenment period.  Franklin writes that he endeavored to strengthen both his “elegance of expression” and his “arrangement of thoughts” (15-16).  Both of these thoughts are consistent with that of the 18th century as a whole, which placed a large significance on the advance of science and understanding.  Today, science still relies on a valuable understanding of past studies, as they often form a basis for all subsequent studies.
            Franklin also sheds light on what could be considered the central themes of both science and philosophy.  His father’s suggestion that “nothing was useful which was not honest” holds great value when considering the establishment of scientific finding and moreover the delivery of such knowledge to the general public (11).  Franklin also notes that he avoids use of absolute words when making an argument, as to uphold the idea that no argument can be certain.  Scientific theories are known as theories for a reason, and scientists work with the understanding that no finding is an absolute truth.  It seems discouraging that a career could be spent establishing theories that will most likely be outdated in the future.  However, this process is necessary. Right?
            To reflect more freely, I think an interesting theme of this writing is idea that people are meant to go into specific professions.  Often times in his autobiography, Franklin mentions his doubts that an acquaintance of his will have success in a certain career, and he goes as far as suggesting that they do not pursue these paths.  While this discouragement does still exist today, it is significantly limited when compared to Franklin’s suggestions.  Our society is much more supportive of youth exploring all options for their future.  Major changes en route to a college degree are more common than ever.  Does this disparity between Franklin’s time and the present have any effect on the successes or failures in certain professions?  Are we scientists, or are we attempting to be?