Archive for the ‘Integral Metatheory’ Category

Postformal dialectics

Friday, November 2nd, 2007

The following is copied-and-pasted from the Integral Review forum on this topic. I pasted the first few posts here and the rest of the posts to date in the comments section.

Gary Hampson: Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2007 6:07 am

There seems to be some heat gathering in the Wilberian Theory vs Post-formal Reasoning discussion thread regarding dialectics:

Daniel Gustav Anderson has foregrounded the importance of dialectics with regard to integral theory, whilst he, Bonnitta Roy and Edward Berge (theurj) introduce various Buddhist dialectical understandings.

Bonnitta also distinguishes between formal dialectics (as thesis-antithesis-synthesis) and postformal dialectics (as invovling self-defining pairs).

It seems pertinent to give this topic its own discussion thread: et voilà!

theurj: Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2007 5:26 pm

Let’s go back to what Bonnie said in the “Wilberian theory vs post-formal reasoning” thread:

“It is my feeling that dialectics in the above forms, is formal, not postformal, because it relies on the positing of opposite pairs, which it considers in some kind of tension. I believe that post-formal thinking sees dialectical pairs as self-defining, and therefore the tension is ‘resolved’ or ‘dissolved’ before the is any kind of movement toward synthesis.

“This open up into entirely new ways of thinking/ perceiving more in terms of ‘constellations’ (hunting for the right words here) and what the Buddhists call co-dependent origination.”

This will of course relate to the “Buddhist” nondual traditions and how they formulate the “two truths” and (co)dependent origination. So lets first take a look at how Ken formulates the two truths (absolute and relative) from footnote 7 to Excerpt C:

“Is there any perception that is not a perspective? Yes, I believe so, and it has to do with satori or nondual awareness (or pure Emptiness–consciousness without an object, which is therefore consciousness without a perspective), which I will explore in later excerpts. The conclusion of this integral reformulation of the wisdom traditions is that samsara (or the world of Form) is composed of perspectives, and nirvana (or Emptiness) is pure perception without an object or perspective. The union of Emptiness and Form is thus the union of perception and perspective, where in my pure perception I am one with everything that is arising (although as expressed through my own individual perspective, with which I am no longer exclusively identified). Finding Emptiness is a freedom from all perspectives (a nirvana free of samsara); a union with Form is finding the Fullness of perspectives that alone can express this Freedom (the nonduality of nirvana and samsara). Wisdom is transcending perspectives, compassion is embracing them all.”

We have aperspectival, nondual satori on the one hand and relative, perspectival consciousness on the other hand which requires a “union” or synthesis. This is the “dual” nonduality to which I refer, or as Bonnie describes it, the formal operational way of relating them.

So let’s bring in Madhyamika, Nagarjuna’s dialectical method for handling the two truths. And here I must provide the disclaimer that there are numerous interpretations of this, all claiming to have the “true” interpretation handed down in a direct lineage from Nagarjuna. I will of course present my own biased preference in trying to show how this form of nonduality does not see the two truths as opposites in tension but as a self-defining pair and dissolved without synthesis, or “postformally” by the working definition above. And then I will show how Derrida does the same thing, in his own fashion.

I have a bias for Stephen Batchelor’s and Garfield & Priest’s interpretations of Madhyamikan nonduality. Batchelor says on the two truths:

“’Very often,’ says Maurice Walshe in the introduction to his translation of the Long Discourses of the Buddha (Digha Nikaya), ‘the Buddha talks in the Suttas in terms of conventional or relative truth (sammuti-sacca), according to which people and things exist just as they appear to the naïve understanding. Elsewhere, however, when addressing and audience capable of appreciating his meaning, he speaks in terms of ultimate truth (paramattha-sacca).’

‘This passage confirms a view familiar to all Buddhists, no matter what school to which they belong. It is technically known as the doctrine of the Two Truths, according to which reality is divided into two “levels”: the conventional and the ultimate, the relative and the absolute – or, as I translated it somewhere – the partial and the sublime.

“It might come as a surprise, therefore – particularly after having just read the words of an eminent translator of the Buddha’s word – to learn that nowhere among the discourses (sutta) in the Pali canon does the Buddha use such terms. This famous distinction between “relative” and “absolute” truth is entirely alien to these early texts. One can certainly interpret his teaching through the lens of such an idea (which, if you read the passage carefully, is what Maurice Walshe does) but bear in mind that the distinction itself is one the Buddha never employed.

“The notion of Two Truths goes entirely against the grain of what the Buddha taught. Siddhattha Gotama’s teaching is not founded on absolutes of any kind. He avoids the deeply ingrained assumption of much religious thought that reality is somehow split down the middle (God and Creation / Brahman and Maya / Nirvana and Samsara / Emptiness and Form). Ironically, of course, such divisions are blatantly dualistic – a position most Buddhists are supposed to be at pains to avoid.

“In one of the most succinct accounts of his enlightenment, the Buddha speaks of awakening to “dependent origination,” a truth that is “hard to see” since it “goes against the worldly stream.” (Ariyapariyesana Sutta, Majjhima Nikaya 26, section 19). In modern parlance, his insight was counterintuitive. Why? because it went against two “streams”: our instinctive mental habit to split reality into two, and the outward expression of that habit in religious doctrines such as the Two Truths. The Buddha awakened to a glittering plurality of endlessly arising and vanishing phenomena. No God created it; no Mind underpins it; no Unconditioned lies somewhere outside it. Ethics, meditation and wisdom are not founded on some absolute truth, but grow out of a careful examination of what causes suffering and what brings it to an end. Enlightenment, for the Buddha, entailed simply paying attention to the phenomenal flux of your own empirical experience.

“The doctrine of the Two Truths seems to have emerged fairly soon after the Buddha’s death. It is not a later Mahayana idea; for it was already taken for granted in the early Abhidhamma. I suspect that it was the first step in the progressive brahminization of Buddhism in India. The Two Truth doctrine is strikingly reminiscent of the Upanishadic teaching that the world of appearances is an illusion (maya) that separates us from the transcendent, absolute reality of God (brahman). But that, of course, was the worldview the Buddha sought to abandon. He wanted to replace it with another way of seeing things altogether: the radical contingency of all existence, devoid of any intrinsic self-essence or God.”

Granted this form of “dissolution” claims the Buddha never made any such claim for two truths to begin with, which is pre-Madhyamika. So let’s look at how Garfield & Priest[1] dissolve it from the Madhyamikan aperspective:

“With arguments such as the preceding one, Nagarjuna establishes that everything is empty, contingently dependent on other things—dependently co-arisen, as it is often put. We must take the ‘everything’ here very seriously, though. When Nagarjuna claims that everything is empty, ‘everything’ includes emptiness itself. The emptiness of something is itself a dependently co-arisen property of that thing. The emptiness of emptiness is perhaps one of the most central claims of the MMK.6 Nagarjuna devotes much of chapter 7 to this topic. In that chapter, using some of the more difficult arguments of the MMK, he reduces to absurdity the assumption that dependent co-arising is itself an (ultimately) existing property of things.

“For Western philosophers it is very tempting to adopt a Kantian understanding of Nagarjuna (as is offered, e.g., in Murti 1955). Identify conventional reality with the phenomenal realm, and ultimate reality with the noumenal, and there you have it. But this is not Nagarjuna’s view. The emptiness of emptiness means that ultimate reality cannot be thought of as a Kantian noumenal realm. For ultimate reality is just as empty as conventional reality. Ultimate reality is hence only conventionally real! The distinct realities are therefore identical.”[2]

The article then goes into the complex dialectic of how this is so, given that it is indeed a “contradiction” from a formal operational perspective. I contend that Ken seems to view the two truths more as phenomenal and noumenal realms in union or synthesis rather than G&P’s interpretation of Nagarjuna’s dissolution.

As to how this relates to Derrida’s notions will have to wait, as my time has run out for this session and other duties call. To be continued…

1. “Nagarjuna and the limits of thought” by Garfield and Priest, Philosophy East & West Volume 53, Number 1, January 2003, 1–21 at this link.
2. Note that there is a difference between this interpretation of “emptiness” and the one Bonnie uses in her IR article. This is highlighted by the differences between G&P’s view and the Dzogchen, even though the latter is also technically “Madhyamikan.” Food for another conversation if there is interest.

Integral gender studies

Friday, October 12th, 2007

I want to make some suggestions as to what Integral gender studies might cover.

First, there’s nothing really new. Wilber’s map is often a way to categorise stuff we already know. It might not have anything new to add.

Second, I think Wilber often fails to realise the potential of his system. I am surprised at the conservative interpretation he places on politics. He does it with gender studies by falling back onto conservative stereotypes and a crude polarity of gender types. Yet the current state of gender studies leads to more radical directions.

Third is the problem of pre- versus post-knowledge scenarios. Wilber’s reading of the developmental spectrum sometimes assumes ignorance of recent discoveries. Thus the early stages become newly ignorant of postmodernism and modernism. But once a discovery has been made all levels must reassess their narratives to take account of the new information. A good example is the gay rights movement. Whilst moral conservatives may reject homosexuality, they can’t ignore it. The gay lobby exists. Similarly the feminist movement has happened. Women have the vote. The integral movement therefore has to take account of current knowledge; it can’t pretend a pre-knowledge ignorance exists for the lower levels.

Okay, now to the IT, or UL quadrant. The biological determinants in gender are complex. It is no longer simply a question of XX and XY chromosomes. The genetic picture is complex and allows considerable variation. There are women with high testosterone levels and men with high oestrogen levels (there are even men who can lactate). There are a number of conditions that cause hermaphroditism, or ambiguous genitalia. Until the age of three months the embryo has no distinct gender. The release of hormones will determine if the cells that form the clitoris/penis will create a normal or large clitoris, or a normal or small penis. The cells that form the labia majora become the scrotum in the male. In ambiguous genitalia the examining doctor cannot determine if the child has a large clitoris or small penis, an enlarged, bulbous vulva or a small scrotum. Sometimes the child will have a penis and a vaginal opening, sometimes testicles and ovaries, or one of each.

Outside of ambiguous genitalia the child may grow up with abnormal hormones that may incline a girl to develop masculine traits and a boy feminine traits. Some genes will determine the amount of body hair, giving some girls facial hair and a masculine body some boys a lack of hair and a feminine body.

There is also some evidence to suggest that genes play a part in psychological disposition. Gender Identity Disorder (or gender dysphoria) is now a recognised condition. It causes boys to identify psychologically with being a girl, and a girl with being a boy. It can cause psychological trauma from a very young age. In some extreme cases boys have attempted to castrate themselves. The recognised solution is to allow the child to grow up as the sex they think they are and to have gender reassignment surgery and hormone replacement therapy when they enter puberty.

More research is being done, but we can now say with certainty that nature doesn’t deal with simple polarities.

Okay, now to the WE and ITS quadrants. I deal with these together because they are interlinked. At the level of culture there is also considerable variation. Yes, there are average similarities, but it is the exceptions that are the most interesting. The men of the Wodabe tribe of Niger wear make-up and elaborate costumes that make them look feminine. In Sparta girls were taught to wrestle and box with the boys until the age of seven (when the boys went to a separate academy, the girls however continued in martial arts and gymnastics). Several cultures recognise more than two sexes. In some culture transvestitism and androgyny are tolerated and even accorded a special role.

If Integral theory is to be truly integral, then it must understand that the traditional Judeo-Christian gender polarity is just one of many cultural configurations. It is not normative. It is a mistake to think that the lower developmental levels only accept a crude polarity. Some Native American tribes recognised several sexes, including masculine women and feminine men.

Gender polarisation is not a developmental issue. It is cultural.

In addition tribal societies accepted a wide variety of sexual practices and ways of organising their society. Anthropology recognises patriarchal, matriarchal, patrilineal, matrilineal, patrilocal and matrilocal configurations. Some cultures accepted homosexuality, with the Greeks tolerating pederasty and its lesbian equivalent of Sapphism (particularly on Lesbos and in Sparta). The variations are too numerous to mention, save to say that the Judeo-Christian version is not normative. One example however, might suffice. Aristotle called Spartan society a gynarchy, a place where women ruled. Unlike their Athenian counterparts Spartan women could inherit, own and manage property. They were allowed to speak their minds in meetings and they were given an education, with some achieving note as poets and Pythagorean philosophers. They were allowed to have lovers as there were no adultery laws, they also were free to pursue lesbian affairs and to take young girls as mentors. They were taught to be physically strong and the Athenian men admired them for their beauty. The only woman to win an Olympic medal was a Spartan – she was a noted horsetrainer.

Okay, now for a quick glance at the I or UL quadrant. Here I want to make a special note of the theory of reincarnation and Jungian archetypes. The East accepts that men can reincarnate as women and vice versa. One Buddhist contemplation asks the practitioner to understand that every person was once their mother. The aim of some Tantric practices is to integrate and transcend male and female. The god Shiva is sometimes portrayed as the hermaphrodite Ardhanarishvara. The goddess Kali-Durga has fearsome male warrior attributes (similarly the Greco-Roman pantheon allows for greater gender variety than the Judeo-Christian tradition).

Carl Jung developed the theory of archetypes and proposed a quadrant model of the psyche: self, shadow, anima and animus. Anima and animus are the female and male psychological types. However, Jung was quite clear that anima and animus were independent of biological sex. A woman could have a strong animus and a man a strong anima. Jung also wrote extensively on what he called the ‘mysterious conjunction’ and used alchemical symbology to talk about transcending gender stereotypes as part of the individuation process.

I have only skimmed the surface of this vast topic, but what is clear is that Integral gender studies must recognise gender complexity.

This is why it is so disappointing to read Wilber deal in crude polar stereotypes. He should know a lot better.

I wonder how welcome the GLBT community is made to feel in the Integral movement? Or would a raging queen or butch dyke scare the beejusus out of them? If that is the case how integral are they really? How big is Wilber in the gay community in SF (no snickering darlings)? I mean, I always thought he looked gay :)

Peripheral vision logic “a”perspective

Friday, October 12th, 2007

In the last meeting of Santa Rosa Integral Salon we used as a loose organizer the phrase “the integral periphery.” A few of us had in mind that by that we’d discuss those persons/ideas on the periphery of Ken and/or I-I. But I intentionally planned to allow the discussion to go “peripheral,” i.e., where it wanted to, and not to hold on to the above direction/focus. Part of this is because peripheral vision is itself like vision logic, in that PV doesn’t focus on specific objects but takes in the whole field of vision and observes it as a gestalt. It’s more like Ken’s description of VL in CW4, p.86:

“Vision-logic – Numerous psychologists (e.g. Bruner, Flavell, Arieti) have pointed out that there is much evidence for a cognitive structure beyond or higher than Piaget’s ‘formal operational.’ It has been called ‘dialectical,’ ‘integrative,’ ‘creative synthetic,’ ‘integral-aperspectival,’ and so forth. I prefer the term ‘vision-logic.’ In any case, it appears that whereas the formal mind establishes relationships, vision-logic establishes networks of those relationships (i.e. just as formop ‘operates on’ conop, so vision-logic ‘operates on’ formop). Such vision or panoramic logic apprehends a mass network of ideas, how they influence each other and interrelate. It is thus the beginning of truly higher-order synthesizing capacity, of making connections, relating truths, coordinating ideas, integrating concepts. Interestingly, this is almost exactly what Aurobindo called ‘the higher mind,’ which ‘can freely express itself in single ideas, but its most characteristic movement is a mass ideation, a system or totality of truth-seeing at a single view; the relations of idea with idea, of truth with truth, self-seen in the integral whole.’ This, obviously, is a highly integrative structure; indeed, in my opinion it is the highest integrative structure in the personal realm; beyond it lie transpersonal developments.”

Part of what we also discussed though was the aperspectival nature of vision-logic. This term includes the idea that it is multi-perspectival, that one again sees the broader view of a gestalt but doesn’t take any one perspective. This aspect of VL is defined as follows by Ken in CW4, p. 599:

“Jean Gebser, whom we have seen in connection with worldviews, coined the term integral-aperspectival to refer to this pluralistic or multiple-perspectives view, which I also refer to as vision-logic or network-logic. ‘Aperspectival’ means that no single perspective is privileged, and thus, in order to gain a more holistic or integral view, we need an aperspectival approach, which is exactly why Gebser usually hyphenated them: integral-aperspectival.”

But does aperspectival imply more than a lack of a privleged perspective among multiple perspectives? (Does it even imply such a lack of privilege, as the “integral” perspective does indeed have a privileged position amoung the other perspectives?) Is it possible to have a “direct perception” that is not a perspective, i.e., aperspective? Ken says in Excerpt C, footnote 7:

“Is there any perception that is not a perspective? Yes, I believe so, and it has to do with satori or nondual awareness (or pure Emptiness–consciousness without an object, which is therefore consciousness without a perspective), which I will explore in later excerpts. The conclusion of this integral reformulation of the wisdom traditions is that samsara (or the world of Form) is composed of perspectives, and nirvana (or Emptiness) is pure perception without an object or perspective. The union of Emptiness and Form is thus the union of perception and perspective, where in my pure perception I am one with everything that is arising (although as expressed through my own individual perspective, with which I am no longer exclusively identified). Finding Emptiness is a freedom from all perspectives (a nirvana free of samsara); a union with Form is finding the Fullness of perspectives that alone can express this Freedom (the nonduality of nirvana and samsara). Wisdom is transcending perspectives, compassion is embracing them all.”

This starts to sound like Gebser’s “awaring,” from Georg Feuerstein’s Structures of Consciousness, Chapter 1:

“This ‘awaring’ or unmediated perceiving is possible because the spiritual origin is not mere temporal beginning, the first member of the historical chain of consciousness mutations. Rather it is, as the title of Gebser’s magnum opus indicates, ever-present and not space or time-bound. We might say it is sheer presence. In the integral structure of consciousness this fact becomes self-evident: the originary presence is ‘presentiated’ (vergegenw?rtigt). And this presentation of the spiritual origin enables the human being to transcend the potential exclusivity of all structures of consciousness.”

Yet in Integral Spirituality (draft, p. 109) Ken notes that even such “direct” experiences are shaped by our perspectival interpretations before even going into such experiences. Even nondual experiences:

“What you can see in figure 4.1 is that a person at any stage can have a peak experience of a gross, subtle, causal, or nondual state. But a person will interpret that state according to the stage they are at.”

So it seems like a Gordian knot in that we cannot have a “direct” perception or pure aperspective without interpreting it through a perspective. One possible way out of this was to say that when we “come out of” the experience we then interpret it. But the interpretative process began long, long ago, before we ever even went into the experience. Besides, it seems that experience and interpretation co-arise simultaneously, not back and forth.

I don’t have the answer so I’ll leave you with a question that I hope will inspire some discussion here. If vision-logic is aperspectival then what is the integral “perspective?”

Wilber and Cohen on women

Saturday, October 6th, 2007

It seems to me that so far, integral theory has failed women. If Wilber’s conversation with Cohen is any indication then I’m afraid things look rather grim.

It might not be fair to assess Wilber’s full views from a rather slight piece in WIE (issue 37), but then, he clearly knows people will read it and one must assume he means it to represent his views. But it’s a curious piece.

For an insight into the piece let’s start at the end, where Wilber and Cohen indulge in backslapping mutual appreciation.

“And that’s why, I think, some of the experiments you and some of our friends have been trying are so important. It’s not narcissism to point out…”

Um, well, I’m rather afraid it is narcissism to congratulate yourself on being the leading edge. Who is fooled by this? Here is Wilber praising Cohen in a magazine produced by Cohen. And this from someone who wants to be taken seriously?

So what exactly is such a “highly regarded philosopher” doing on the pages of a blatantly self-promoting ‘popularist’ magazine aimed primarily at what the publishing business would regard as a New Age market?

Okay, so let’s look at Wilber and Cohen’s understanding of feminism and women.

1. Biology is destiny

Is it? I would have thought that using his AQAL system Wilber might have paid more attention to gender as a cultural construct. Of course there is some biological basis to some behaviour, but I note that Wilber talks in terms of a rather strict polarity – in terms of assumed average male and female. When in fact there are exceptions and overlaps. The average male may be stronger than the average female but there are some women who are stronger than some men (ever heard of female body building?). Biology plays gender tricks. Does a mare run any slower than a stallion? Is a bitch Rottweiler any less vicious than a male? So how much of primate behaviour is biologically determined? What of homosexuality and the transgendered, what of tomboys and effeminate men? What of gender dysmorphia, where people are certain they are born into a body of the wrong sex? The biological fact is that gender is a gradient, not a pure polarity.

In any case the feminist argument is primarily about reproductive destiny, the struggle against patriarchal notions that a woman’s primary role is to give birth. It is not primarily about gender.

In any case, the issue is about choice, both reproductive and gender choice. In the past the options for both men and women were limited by cultural pressure to conform to rather oppressive stereotypes. Now a butch girl can dream of becoming a soldier, a boxer or a body builder and an effeminate boy can become a dancer, fashion designer, etc and act as camp as he likes – or anything in-between!

2. Feminism and science.

Wilber says: “…then women are always going to be enslaved because they’ll always be weaker. So the postmodern women’s movement went too far to the other extreme and said, ‘There is no biological truth. Science is merely fiction like everything else.’ ”

Except they didn’t say this at all and this is just a parody that simplifies a far more complex argument. The most militant feminist I knew was a scientist. She didn’t have a problem with truly objective, gender neutral science. The argument was always that science can be used by ideology. Just as ‘white’ science once supported theories of racial difference and inferiority, ‘male’ science similarly supports theories of gender difference and female inferiority. Sadly Wilber and Cohen fall into this trap, as we shall soon see. Knowing what we know I’m surprised Wilber wasn’t far more cautious.

3. Women lack the ability to hold formation.

What the fuck? Okay, the first thing is to note how Wilber and Cohen slip into the old tactic of asserting that women lack what men have – meaning that they are the lesser.

The second thing to note is that they are utterly wrong. This little gem comes from Cohen, who made his women followers go through an intensive in Spain in which they learn to ‘hold formation’. Cohen says: “…and holding formation with other people is more of a male way of thinking. Women don’t tend to think that way.” Aaaargh! You sexist pig. That’s the only way to describe this crap.

As part of my research into my novel I read about the history of the nurse’s union movement in Australia. This is at the same time as the Nurse’s Federation is running an ad campaign against Australia’s new industrial laws. The nurses have always been highly organised and militant. You don’t get to be one of the nation’s most formidable unions without being able to hold formation. And what of the suffragette movement? How many decades of persistence and holding formation did that require? And what of the large number of convents run by women, particularly the centuries old contemplative orders. Can’t hold formation? Again, what the fuck!

Let’s get this clear. Women are more than capable of holding formation in areas that matter to them. How many women run charities? I dare say that more women than men have worked quietly away at charity work. Can’t hold formation?

4. Wilber the rock god (he wishes).

To add insult to injury Wilber makes a completely fatuous comment in agreement. “That’s why there are so many all-male rock groups but very few female rock groups.”

Huh?

First, I wasn’t aware that most all-male rock groups were exemplars of ‘holding formation’. Don’t they, like, sort of, implode as male egos get in the way? Is this what holding formation looks like? Drugs, sex and rock’n roll? Let’s do a comparison – male rock group versus female run charity. An excess of male ego and narcissism compared to raising money for (name the charity) (my ex was a fund raiser for Alzheimer’s, 95% run by women).

And isn’t it interesting that Wilber went for this particular example? The pandit as rock god – Billy Corcoran look out, it’s Wilber and his band, The Leading Edge.

5. Completely missing the point.

So here are two alpha males, Cohen and Wilber, discussing what’s wrong with women – and Wilber goes into the standard rave about the developmental hierarchy, and misses the main point. Male power! Wilber has the wits to agree “…I think it’s harder on women.” And Cohen sort of gets there, “Another significant factor in this, I think, is that women are so objectified by culture…By male culture, which women also cocreate…they internalise it.”

But what else can they do in a society where men hold the power? In a society where men hold the power women can’t externalise much, if anything. Where have these dudes been for the last forty to fifty years?

6. On being patronizing shits.

No other word for it. Two narcissistic alpha males discussing what’s wrong with women. I really like this from Cohen, “the narcissistic inclination to constantly be looking for their own image in the reflection of others is even more acute than it is for men.” Aaargh! And having a mutual appreciation session in your own magazine is not narcissism? Cohen reflecting Wilber’s genius back to him and Wilber reflecting Cohen’s brilliance in return.

7. Completely missing the point – part two.

But, but, but…the reasons for women’s insecurity and narcissism are complex. As any cursory understanding of feminist theory will tell you women compete for male attention in a society where men have the power. Why do Wilber and Cohen consistently miss the point about male power? Given the enormous amount of work done on the psychology of power in general? And especially given that this is supposed to be ‘integral’? But then, why would you expect two powerful males to take an honest look at how they use their power, particularly in regard to their women followers?

What can I say? The ‘dialogue’ between Wilber and Cohen was self-indulgent crap. It dealt in crude stereotypes of both male and female biology and psychology (“Males…are geared basically toward wolf hunting in packs”). If this is where Integral gender studies is at, then we are in BIG trouble.

I used to go to a Wilber discussion group in Melbourne. One of the main reasons I left was that so few women turned up. Without a fair representation of women how could it be integral?

Redefining Integral

Wednesday, September 12th, 2007

A few days back I posted an essay on the new, postwilberian, Integral Praxis blog, called Redefining the Integral.  I’m glad to see there’s already some discussion happening there.

My basic thesis is that the word “Integral”, and the Integral movement, is either limited almost entirely to a Wilberian context, or so vague as to be meaningless (I have noticed this vagueness on the current blog for example.  What exactly do Edward, Ray, and I have in common, beyond using the word “integral” and rejecting mainstream Wilberism?) 

In the essay, I therefore suggest a solution; definition of Integral that includes all current definitions. This posits five dimensions: Religious, Theoretical, Practical (itself including Collective social transformation, Participatory, and Individual “integral spirituality”), Enlightened, and Divinised.  Only by taking all these aspects into account can we have a complete definition of Integral.

Note that Wilber’s more uncritical followers are religious, Wilber himself is theoretical.

For me, the last two stages are the most imporatnt, because they refer to going beyond the limitations of mental dogmas.  This is something that the Integral movement still has difficulty in addressing.  (I’m not saying that theory is wrong, only that it has to ultimately be transcended, not just in practice, but in enlighetnment as well).

Several people, in their comments, have asked why even create such a definition.  I guess because what we have a new development in the noosphere, which is still being defined, and if there is no proper definition, integral automatically defaults to Wilberism.  No disrespect to Wilber, but I think that the Integral movement can be so much more than that.

The feeling function

Friday, June 29th, 2007

Seeing as DePayens mentioned the feeling function I thought I should open a thread on the subject. The first thing I want to do is point to the work of Carl Rogers who suggested there were five levels. The article I reference can be found at http://tap3x.net/ENSEMBLE/mpage3c.html (if this link doesn’t work I’ll add it in the comments). I won’t detail it here because I assume that most readers will already know what Rogers found.

So when we talk about the feeling function we need to understand that it too has levels and we need to talk about what level of emotional understanding the individual has and what the average level is for a given society/culture. The anthroplogical evidence suggests that some tribal societies encourage a high level of emotional intelligence whilst others express a low level. I remember an example from an Amazonian tribe with the anthropologist noting that the tribal men had a very low threshold before entering a violent emotional state. As a result violent death was common and accepted. In contrast other tribal societies have complex methods to circumvent negative emotions.

I do not assume that Western society is more emotionally intelligent than some tribal societies. What I will suggest is that because Western society is in reality a complex of sub-groups that some sub-groups have patterns of low emotional intelligence and others have patterns of high emotional intelligence. Although it is not strictly correlated it is true that poor and educationally disadvantaged sub-groups have patterns of low emotional intelligence, hence the higher incidence of domestic violence and child abuse. Low emotional intelligence is directly related to low impulse control and the inability to read the emotions of others.

As far as I am concerned there is a direct correlation between education, the development of reason and high emotional intelligence. If we study Roger’s five levels we see a growth in the ability to understand and control feeling function. At the low levels emotions control us and we have low impulse control. At the higher levels we learn to control our emotions, isolate and reject the negative emotions and increase the positive or neutral emotions. The development of reason is essential to this process. Specifically we learn to objectify our feelings, analyse them and self-select useful emotional states.

The irony in this is that people with high emotional intelligence can appear cold and analytical to people with a low emotional intelligence (EQ). From the perspective of the person with a high EQ the person with a low EQ can appear irrational, volatile and the victim of easily triggered emotional states – they can appear to ride a roller coaster of emotions.

But what is the highest level of the feeling function like? Here’s a quote from the article.

“That is why in dealing with their fellow-man they could see and hear and touch at a new level. That is why they could sometimes read hearts and know intuitively what others were thinking. I am not speaking here about extrasensory perception but about a certain mystical awareness, an intuitive knowledge, a deep feeling. No superficial emotion this, but an extraordinary empathy.”

This is what I feel when I connect with people. I said in a comment that I am emotionally intuitive. Some would describe this as being ’sensitive’. I have always been like this and it has taken me some time to understand this. As I said it can cause problems. Why? Because I read people’s emotions very easily, including their minor, sub-text emotions. It is very hard to lie to me or to hide how you are ‘really’ feeling. I have found that in most relationships people often choose to hide what they are feeling. They create a relationship persona, who they are in that relationship, and they try and hide some aspects of their personality from their partner. Unfortunately for me people can’t hide. I sense emotional incoherence very quickly. Sadly I have learnt that I can’t expose that incoherence. I learnt the hard way. People feel exposed, they don’t like too much emotional honesty. So I often don’t say anything. I have been single for much of my life for this very reason and for the fact that I haven’t found many people with a similar ability. I should add that my emotional intuition allows me to read group dynamics easily. (People who have known me will understand that as soon as I met some of the key people in I-I I knew what was going on and began to draw attention to the contradictions and problems, although I could hardly argue that I just had a feeling).

It is from this perspective that I say that at the higher levels of the feeling function there is no conflict with reason and intellect, in fact the Jungian types start to blend and one can access the information each function provides. People’s emotional reactions become data.

The other thing that happens at the higher levels is that one does not indulge the emotional states of the lower stages. An example of this is the distinction between sympathy and empathy. The sympathetic response is reactionary – it reacts to the perceived emotional state and wants to ameliorate negative emotions. If someone feels sad the sympathic person wants to make the person happy, if they feel angry they want to protect them from the cause of the anger, if they feel afraid they want to protect them, if they feel they are being victimised the sympathiser again wants to protect them. Perhaps I should have been clearer when I was talking about ’special victims’, so let me be clear now. It is the sympathetic response that creates victim politics. Sympathisers tend to see the world in terms of victims and perpetrators. They are at their sympathetic worst when they act in black and white simplisms and fail to see taht victims are also perpetrators and perpetrators victims.

The empathic response allows you to understand how people feel, but you temper it with reason. Reason tells you if the feeling states are based on real events that can be changed or perceived events that cannot. The empathic response, based on high emotional intelligence, will tell you if you need to be involved. To give an example – I have been involved in some challenging psychodynamics in which people break down and cry. The sympathiser will rush to the person, see them as a victim of something being done to them, embrace them and try to stop them crying, whilst becoming upset themselves. The empathiser with high EQ will assess the situation, understand what they are going through but may decide that the tears are part of a internal process that they should not interfere with. The sympathiser sees this as cold, but it is actually the better response. Misplaced sympathy can actually prevent a process from reaching its natural conclusion.

In the same way I can see the pain and suffering the Aboriginal people are going through – and again perhaps I should have said this, but the pain is part of a process. The modern world is not going away, nor can Aborigines return to the past. The pain they suffer is the pain of adjusting to a new reality. The pain is actually a complex of emotions, fear, uncertainty, anger, grief, confusion, etc. However the problem is that these emotions always arise in transitional phases, from the mundane and short-lived (like a new job, moving house, a new relationship) to the complex and generational. So let me rephrase my criticism of the left in this way, they have been distracted by the sympathetic response and the so-called MGM (as badly expressed as it is) is actually misplaced sympathetic reactionism. They react by trying to protect Aborigines from the new reality and one way to do that is to escape into fantasies (about the past, the present and possible future).

I will admit to also being lazy. The thing is that I can analyse situations from many different modalities but it is difficult to express them in few words. If I was to try to do it my contributions would be full of complex caveats (and lots of brackets {and digressions and exceptions}).

For example – I have been talking about the irrationality of attitudes to sex in very simple terms. However I understand sexuality to have a developmental logic and to be strongly related to the feeling function. The Judeo-Christian tradition is fixated at a low level of emotional and sexual intelligence for a reason, to keep the faithful indoctrinated. The need to have a god is actually a low emotional need. Once you develop emotionally that need disappears and is replaced by an intuitive sense of connection. It is the same with sex. The taboos are designed to keep people at a low level of sexual intelligence.

Anyway – I’ve run out of steam and will continue this thread later. I need a break.

The so-called retro-romantic transpersonalists

Thursday, June 21st, 2007

For the longest time I refused to read those who might fit the above description provided by Ken, as if they had a hideous and highly communicable disease. But I’ve come to question the accuracy of this prejudice and have begun to investigage these authors. This is largely due to an incipient intuition about states of consciousness as related to the pre-trans fallacy. Those like Washburn and Goddard see that we “return” to these lower states (subconscious and unconscious) after the evolution to the rational ego, but from the vantage point of the latter they are transformed (into subtle and causal). Hence it isn’t necessarily a regression to pre-rational states as it is an integration of them with the rational ego that transforms these states into the transrational. It’s not that the trans exist apart from the pre; it’s not an either/or but a both/and.

I’d like to explore some of the ideas of Grof, Washburn, Ferrer, Goddard etc. and compare them with Ken to see if we might arrive at a both/and with them as well, as it doesn’t seem that either you’re with Ken and against “them” or vice versa. To begin here’s the introduction to “Embodied Participation in the Mystery: Implications for the Individual, Interpersonal Relationships, and Society” by Jorge N. Ferrer, Ramon V. Albareda, and Marina T. Romero

We postulate the existence of an intelligent and creative primordial energy or Mystery that is the ultimate principle of life and reality. This Mystery pervades the cosmos in two polar energetic states: the Dark Energy and the Energy of Consciousness.1 Energetically speaking, whereas the dark pole of the Mystery is dense, amorphous, and undifferentiated, the conscious pole is subtle, luminous, and infinitely differentiated.

The Dark Energy is the Mystery’s immanent life and dynamic fountain of generativity at all levels. The Dark Energy is spiritual prima materia—that is, unactualized spiritual energy in a state of transformation, saturated with potentials and novel possibilities. We see matter and the physical universe as initial manifestations of the Dark Energy and as therefore having an interior or experiential dimension. In the human realm, the Dark Energy is the source of our vitality and natural wisdom, as well as the organizing principle of our embodiment, sexuality, and instinctive life. We can distinguish between two states of the Dark Energy: One contains both the creative wisdom of the primordial order of life and historically accumulated human tendencies aligned with that primordial order, and the other stores historically accumulated human tendencies that are in tension with such primordial order. In this context, we can say that the physical body and its vital energies enable human beings not only to creatively participate in the immanent dimensions of the Mystery but also to filter and purify conflictive energetic tendencies stored therein.

The Energy of Consciousness is the Mystery’s transcendent life and dynamic telos of the cosmos toward the expansion of outreaching love and wisdom. In the human realm, the Energy of Consciousness is the source of our self-awareness and spiritual discernment, as well as the organizing principle of the psyche and its transcendent function. Like the Dark Energy, the Energy of Consciousness exists in two different states: the energy of spiritual consciousness, associated with a higher knowledge that transcends rational understanding, and the energy of human consciousness, associated with the knowledge generated by the human mind, which can be either aligned or in tension with the principles of spiritual consciousness. Both energetic states are intimately connected to the process of knowing, which includes the capacity to see (to be aware of), to understand (to see beyond superficial awareness), and to comprehend (to see and to understand the interrelationship of the various elements that constitute reality, as well as to discern its meaning). Given this connectedness, we can say that the mind and consciousness enable human beings not only to creatively participate in the transcendent dimensions of the Mystery but also to align human knowledge with its principles.

We are not proposing a dualistic system here; however, although the Energy of Consciousness and the Dark Energy are ultimately the same energy in different states, we believe that their distinction is crucial.2 We make this distinction because, as we suggest in the remainder of this essay, the dynamic interplay between these two polar energies may be one of the primary motors of the evolutionary process, and human alignment with their distinct principles may, therefore, be fundamental for individual, interpersonal, and social harmony.

Let us first look briefly at the evolutionary process in light of this dipolar account of the Mystery.

In its widest sense, evolution can be seen as involving the progressive differentiation and integration of the Dark Energy and the Energy of Consciousness. In human life, it is likely that the Energy of Consciousness historically emerged by means of an inhibition of the Dark Energy. Far from being an evolutionary mistake or aberration, this temporary inhibition may have been essential to avoid the reabsorption of a still relatively weak, emerging self-consciousness and its values into the stronger presence that a more instinctively driven energy once had in human beings. In other words, the inhibition and/or regulation of the primary dimensions of the person—somatic, instinctive, sexual, and certain aspects of the emotional—may actually have been necessary at certain stages of human evolution to allow the emergence and maturation of self-consciousness and its cognitive, emotional, and moral qualities.

If we are correct about the general dynamics of this process, it may help explain the rise of a mind-centered Western culture that has devalued primary qualities and values such as matter, the natural world, the body, and sexuality and tended to see them in tension with, or even opposition to, the flourishing of psychological, social, and spiritual qualities. In the context of the world’s religious traditions, this may be connected to the widespread consideration of certain human qualities as being spiritually more “correct” or wholesome than others, such as equanimity over intense passions, transcendence over sensuous embodiment, and chastity over sexual exploration. To put it bluntly, humankind’s evolutionary path has been laid out in accord with a dichotomizing view of reality that has created opposing bands that struggle against each other, with certain behaviors and values considered “bad” or “lower” and others “good” or “higher.” This form of evolution, although perhaps historically necessary, has generated an intrapersonal and interpersonal model -now deeply seated in human nature- based on confrontation, conflict, struggle, war, and regressive or paralyzing tendencies.

Humankind is living in a unique historical moment. We are convinced that the degree to which human consciousness has developed enables us to take a qualitative leap forward in the evolutionary process. We suggest that we are now collectively prepared to cultivate ways of life based on the integration of polar qualities that have always been seen as opposites, or even as mutual enemies—ways of life that, in general, are based on the integration of the Dark Energy and the Energy of Consciousness. We are, of course, not talking about a return to a state of primordial undifferentiation of these energies, but rather of a process in which both energies, while remaining clearly differentiated, move toward a creative synthesis that brings forth a more integrated state of being affiliated with novel qualities and possibilities. In other words, having developed self-reflective consciousness and the subtle dimensions of the heart, it may be the moment to reappropriate and integrate the more primary and instinctive dimensions of human nature into a fully embodied participation in the Mystery.3 The remainder of this essay briefly explores a selected sample of practical implications that this embodied participation may have for the individual, interpersonal relationships, and society.

Integrating validity claims & multiple perspectives

Thursday, May 24th, 2007

Wilber 5 is arguably about multiple perspectives and their integration. But whereas Ken seems to have a “meta”perspective or “integral theory” to handle this job, Habermas “rejects the idea of a metadiscourse that sorts out these boundary issues [so] he must answer this challenge in his democratic theory.” Such an approach avoids what has become the totalizing hegemony of an individual’s metanarrative versus the “public autonomy” of democracy. (By the way, with the latter terms I’m reminded of Mark’s use of the quadratic nature of the social holon’s “agency.”) In any event, you can see from the excerpts below where Ken gets a lot of his ideas on perspectives, validity claims and integration.

As to who has the “better argument” between Ken and Habermas, which criteria will you use? Which form of argument and which validity claim? Or as the below points out, how can one integrate them when they compete in the public sphere? This also brings in the topic of “altitude,” which Habermas also deals with in that democracy is an advance on pre-modern forms of social interaction.

I guess for me some questions are: Is what Ken offering in terms of the “next level,” both of individual and social development, really beyond the deliberative democracy Habermas proposes as the integrating factor? Or is it possible that we have yet to even achieve a full deliberative democracy and hence Ken’s “beyond” is really just speculation informed by personal and unconscious biases from his/our “lifeworld” that have yet to be recognized? And wouldn’t we have to study and understand Habermas at least as equally well that we study and understand Ken to be able to compare their ideas to make such validity claims ourselves? And then hash out such integration via public, communicative discourse within a “community of the adequate?”
And wouldn’t such communal adequacy have such well-informed comparison of ideas instead of just accepting the model of one person, no matter how brilliant or integrative?

I personally cannot see how one can claim to the title of being “integral” without exploring the foundations from which Ken built his model, and Habermas is certainly one such foundation. Unless you explore Habbie and others yourself you are accepting Ken’s interpretations without your own careful and critical consideration and are in effect justifiably criticized for tagging along as a cultish follower. And quite frankly I’m not interested in hearing regurgitated Kenobilia from such acolytes, as puke stinks no matter how exquisite the original meal.

From the Stanford Encyclopedia entry on Habermas

Although Habermas’s attitude toward these different modes of critical theory is somewhat ambivalent, he has given good reasons to accept the practical, pluralist approach. Just as in the analysis of modes of inquiry tied to distinct knowledge-constitutive interests, Habermas accepts that various theories and methods each have “a relative legitimacy.” Indeed, like Dewey he goes so far as to argue that the logic of social explanation is pluralistic and elides the “apparatus of general theories.” In the absence of any such general theories, the most fruitful approach to social-scientific knowledge is to bring all the various methods and theories into relation to each other: “Whereas the natural and the cultural or hermeneutic sciences are capable of living in mutually indifferent, albeit more hostile than peaceful coexistence, the social sciences must bear the tension of divergent approaches under one roof” (1988a, 3). In TCA, Habermas casts critical social theory in a similarly pluralistic, yet unifying way. In discussing various accounts of societal modernization, for example, he argues that the main existing theories have their own “particular legitimacy” as developed lines of empirical research, and that Critical Theory takes on the task of critically unifying the various theories and their heterogeneous methods and presuppositions. “Critical social theory does not relate to established lines of research as a competitor; starting from its concept of the rise of modern societies, it attempts to explain the specific limitations and the relative rights of those approaches” (TCA, 2: 375).

What are these claims that are open to criticism and justification? In opposition to the positivist fixation on fact-stating modes of discourse, Habermas does not limit intersubjectively valid, or justifiable, claims to the category of empirical truth, but instead recognizes a spectrum of “validity claims” that also includes, at the least, claims to moral rightness, ethical goodness or authenticity, personal sincerity, and aesthetic value (TCA 1: 8–23; 1993, chap. 1). Although Habermas does not consider such claims to represent a mind-independent world in the manner of empirical truth claims, they can be both publicly criticized as unjustifiable and defended by publicly convincing arguments. To this extent, validity involves a notion of correctness analogous to the idea of truth. In this context, the phrase “validity claim,” as a translation of the German term Geltungsanspruch, does not have the narrow logical sense (truth-preserving argument forms), but rather connotes a richer social idea—that a claim (statement) merits the addressee’s acceptance because it is justified or true in some sense, which can vary according to the sphere of validity and dialogical context.

The term “lifeworld,” by contrast, refers to domains of action in which consensual modes of action coordination predominate. In fact, the distinction between lifeworld and system is better understood as an analytic one that identifies different aspects of social interaction and cooperation (1991b). “Lifeworld” then refers to the background resources, contexts, and dimensions of social action that enable actors to cooperate on the basis of mutual understanding: shared cultural systems of meaning, institutional orders that stabilize patterns of action, and personality structures acquired in family, church, neighborhood, and school (TCA 1: chap. 6; 1998b, chap. 4).

The rationalization of the lifeworld in Western modernity went hand-in-hand with the growth of systemic mechanisms of coordination already mentioned above, in which the demands on fully communicative consensus are relaxed. If large and complex modern societies can no longer be integrated solely on the basis of shared cultural values and norms, new nonintentional mechanisms of coordination must emerge, which take the form of nonlinguistic media of money and power. For example, markets coordinate the collective production and distribution of goods nonintentionally, even if they are grounded in cultural and political institutions such as firms and states. Modernization can become pathological, as when money and power “colonize the lifeworld” and displace communicative forms of solidarity and inhibit the reproduction of the lifeworld, as when, for example, universities become governed by market strategies.

As mentioned above, Habermas proposes a multi-dimensional conception of reason that expresses itself in different forms of cognitive validity: not only in truth claims about the empirical world, but also in rightness claims about the kind of treatment we owe each other as persons, authenticity claims about the good life, technical-pragmatic claims about the means suitable to different goals, and so on. As he acknowledges, the surface grammar of speech acts does not suffice to establish this range of validity types. Rather, to ground the multi-dimensional system of validity claims, one must supplement semantic analysis with a pragmatic analysis of the different sorts of argumentative discourse—the different “logics of argumentation”—through which each type can be intersubjectively justified (TCA 1: 8–42). Thus, a type of validity claim counts as distinct from other types only if one can establish that its discursive justification involves features that distinguish it from other types of justification. Whether or not his pragmatic theory of meaning succeeds, the discursive analysis of validity illuminates important differences in the argumentative demands that come with different types of justifiable claims. To see how Habermas identifies these different features, it is first necessary to understand the general structures of argumentation.

The pragmatic analysis of argumentation in general. Habermas’s discourse theory assumes that the specific type of validity claim one aims to justify—the cognitive goal or topic of argumentation—determines the specific argumentative practices appropriate for such justification. Discourse theory thus calls for a pragmatic analysis of argumentation as a social practice. Such analysis aims to reconstruct the normative presuppositions that structure the discourse of competent arguers. To get at these presuppositions, one cannot simply describe argumentation as it empirically occurs; as we already saw in TCA, one must adopt the performative attitude of a participant and articulate the shared, though often tacit, ideals and rules that provide the basis for regarding some arguments as better than others. Following contemporary argumentation theorists, Habermas assumes one cannot fully articulate these normative presuppositions solely in terms of the logical properties of arguments. Rather, he distinguishes three aspects of argument-making practices: argument as product, as procedure, and as process, which he loosely aligns with the traditional perspectives on argument evaluation of logic, dialectic, and rhetoric. Pragmatically, each of these perspectives functions as a “level of presupposition” involved in the assessment of the cogency—the goodness or strength—of arguments. Habermas seems to regard these perspectives, taken together, as constituting the pragmatic idea of cogency: “at no single one of these analytic levels can the very idea intrinsic to argumentative speech be adequately developed” (TCA 1: 26).

At the logical level, participants are concerned with arguments as products, that is, sets of reasons that support conclusions. From this perspective, arguers aim to construct “cogent arguments that are convincing in virtue of their intrinsic properties and with which validity claims can be redeemed or rejected” (ibid., 25). Following work by Stephen Toulmin and other informal logicians, Habermas regards most if not all argumentation as ultimately resting on ampliative arguments whose conclusions do not follow with deductive certainty but only as more or less plausible or probable. The logical strength of such arguments depends on how well one has taken into account all the relevant information and possible objections. Thus the term “logical” has a broad sense that includes not only formal but also informal logics, in which strength depends on the interrelated meanings of terms and background information that resists complete formalization: induction, analogy, narrative, and so on.

Given the ampliative character of most arguments, logical assessment presupposes the dialectical adequacy of argumentative procedures. That is, we may regard the products of our argument-making practices as logically strong only if we presume, at the dialectical level, that we have submitted arguments and counterarguments to sufficiently severe procedures of critical discussion—as Habermas (TCA 1: 26) puts it, a “ritualized competition for the better arguments.” Dialectical treatments of argumentation typically spell out the “dialectical obligations” of discussants: that one should address the issue at hand, should respond to relevant challenges, meet the specified burden of proof, and so on.

However, robust critical testing of competing arguments depends in turn on the rhetorical quality of the persuasive process. Habermas conceives the rhetorical level in terms of highly idealized properties of communication, which he initially presented as the conditions of an “ideal speech situation” (1973a; also 1971/2001). That way of speaking now strikes him as overly reified, suggesting an ideal condition that real discourses must measure up to, or at least approximately satisfy—motifs that Habermas himself employed until rather recently (cf. 1993, 54–55; 1996b, 322–23). He now understands the idea of rhetorically adequate process as a set of unavoidable yet counterfactual “pragmatic presuppositions” that participants must make if they are to regard the actual execution of dialectical procedures as a sufficiently severe critical test. Habermas (2005b, 89) identifies four such presuppositions as the most important: (i) no one capable of making a relevant contribution has been excluded, (ii) participants have equal voice, (iii) they are internally free to speak their honest opinion without deception or self-deception, and (iv) there are no sources of coercion built into the process and procedures of discourse. Such conditions, in effect, articulate what it would mean to assess all the relevant information and arguments (for a given level of knowledge and inquiry) as reasonably as possible, weighing arguments purely on the merits in a disinterested pursuit of truth. These conditions are counterfactual in the sense that actual discourses can rarely realize—and can never empirically certify—full inclusion, non-coercion, and equality. At the same time, these idealizing presuppositions have an operative effect on actual discourse: we may regard outcomes (both consensual and non-consensual) as reasonable only if our scrutiny of the process does not uncover obvious exclusions, suppression of arguments, manipulation, self-deception, and the like (2003a, 108). In this sense, these pragmatic idealizations function as “standards for a self-correcting learning process” (2005b, 91).

As an understanding of the rhetorical perspective, Habermas’s highly idealized and formal model hardly does justice to the substantive richness of the rhetorical tradition. One can, however, supplement his model with a more substantive rhetoric that draws on Aristotle’s account of ethos and pathos (Rehg 1997). In that case, the rhetorical perspective is concerned with designing arguments for their ability to place the particular audience in the proper social-psychological space for making a responsible collective judgment. But the “space of responsible judgment” still remains an idealization that may not be reduced to any observable actual behavior, but can at most be defeasibly presumed. The same probably holds for dialectical procedures. Although the dialectical perspective draws on the tradition of public debate, dialectical norms, when understood as pragmatic presuppositions, are not identical with institutionalized rules of debate (1990a, 91). A neutral observer can judge whether interlocutors have externally complied with institutional procedures, whereas engaged participants must judge how well they have satisfied the dialectical presupposition of severe critical testing.

The differentiation of argumentative discourses. If the different validity claims require different types of argumentation, then the relevant differences must emerge through a closer analysis of the ways the above aspects of argumentative practice adjust to different sorts of content, that is, the different validity claims at issue (cf. 2005b, chap. 3). To be sure, Habermas does not regard every validity claim as open to discourse proper. Sincerity claims (or “truthfulness claims,” as it is sometimes translated) are the prime example. These are claims an actor makes about his or her interior subjectivity: feelings, moods, desires, beliefs, and the like. Such claims are open to rational assessment, not in discourse but by comparison with the actor’s behavior: for example, if a son claims to care deeply about his parents but never pays them any attention, we would have grounds for doubting the sincerity of his claim. Note that such insincerity might involve self-deception rather than deliberative lying.

Truth and rightness claims, by contrast, are susceptible to argumentative justification in the proper sense, through what Habermas calls “strict discourses.” As he first analyzed the discourses connected with these two types of validity (1973a), they had much in common. Although the types of reasons differed—moral discourse rested primarily on need interpretations, empirical-theoretical discourse on empirical inductions—in both cases, the relevant reasons should, in principle, be acceptable to any reasonable agent. In the case of empirical truth claims, this process-level presupposition of consensus rests on the idea that the objective world is the same for all; in the case of moral rightness, it rests on the idea that valid moral rules and principles hold for all persons. In both cases, the appropriate audience for the testing of claims is universal, and in making a truth or rightness claim one counterfactually presupposes that a universal consensus would result, were the participants able to pursue a sufficiently inclusive and reasonable discourse for a sufficient length of time. Although his early statements are somewhat unclear, on one reading Habermas defined not only moral rightness but also empirical truth in terms of such ideal consensus (similar to C. S. Peirce). He now further distinguishes truth from moral rightness by defining the latter, but not the former, in terms of idealized consensus. More on that below.

Authenticity claims, unlike truth and rightness claims, do not come with such a strong consensual expectation. Habermas associates this type of claim with “ethical” discourse. Unlike moral discourse, in which participants strive to justify norms and courses of action that accord due concern and respect for persons in general, ethical discourses focus on questions of the good life, either for a given individual (“ethical-existential” discourse) or for a particular group or polity (“ethical-political” discourse). Consequently, the kind of reasons that constitute cogent arguments in ethical discourse depend on the life histories, traditions, and particular values of those whose good is at issue. This reference to individual- and group-related particularities means that one should not expect those reasons to win universal consensus (1993, 1–18; 1996b, 162–68). However, Habermas (2003b) seems to recognize one class of ethical questions that do admit of universal consensus. Choices of technologies that bear on the future of human nature, such as genetic enhancement engineering, pose species-wide ethical issues. Such issues concern not merely our self-understanding as members of this or that particular culture or tradition, but how we should understand our basic human dignity. The core of human dignity, and thus the basis for a human-species ethics, on his view, lies in the capacity of human beings for autonomous self-determination.

In sum, Habermas’s discourse theory aligns different types of validity claim with different types of justificatory discourse. At the logical level, cogent arguments must employ somewhat different sorts of reasons to justify different types of claims. Although some sorts of reasons might enter into each type of discourse (e.g., empirical claims), the set of relevant considerations that are individually necessary and jointly sufficient for making logically strong arguments will differ. Thus, claims about what human beings need are relevant reasons in moral arguments about welfare obligations, but not for supporting the truth claim that quarks exist. At the dialectical level, one must meet different burdens of proof by answering different types of challenges. For example, in defending the ethical authenticity of Tom’s pursuit of a career in medicine, one need not show that medicine is a career everyone must follow, but only that such a career makes sense, given Tom’s personal background, talents, and desires. One can also examine Tom’s career choice from a moral perspective, but in that case one need only show that anyone in his circumstances is morally permitted to pursue medicine. At the rhetorical level, finally, the scope and depth of agreement differs according to the type of claim. Moral rightness claims and empirical truth claims are justified by reasons that should be acceptable to a universal audience, whereas ethical claims are addressed to those who share a particular history and tradition of values.

Having differentiated types of discourse, Habermas must say something about how they interrelate. Clearly, some discourses depend on other types: most obviously, moral and ethical discourses partly depend on empirical claims, and thus depend on the outcome of empirical discourses about the circumstances and consequences of behavioral rules and the collective pursuit of the good life. The question of interrelationship becomes especially urgent in the political sphere, where different discourses intertwine and lead to competing conclusions, or when issues arise in which discourse types cannot be cleanly separated, so that the standards of cogency become obscure or deeply contested (McCarthy 1991, chap. 7; 1998). Because Habermas (1996c, 1534f) rejects the idea of a metadiscourse that sorts out these boundary issues, he must answer this challenge in his democratic theory.

Habermas (1990a, 116–94) has also attempted to give discourse ethics some empirical foothold by looking to moral psychology and social anthropology. The psychological line of argument draws on the theory of communicative action to reconstruct theories of moral development such as Lawrence Kohlberg’s. According to Habermas, moral maturation involves the growing ability to integrate the interpersonal perspectives given with the system of personal pronouns; the endpoint of that process coincides with the capacity to engage in the mutual perspective-taking required by (U) [universalization principle]. The anthropological line of argument focuses on identity formation, drawing on the social psychology of G. H. Mead. In broad agreement with Hegelian models of mutual recognition, Mead understands the individual’s development of a stable personal identity as inextricably bound up with processes of socialization that depend on participation in relationships of mutual recognition. Habermas (ibid., 195–215; 1990b) extends this analysis to respond to feminist and communitarian criticisms of impartialist, justice-based moralities. According to the standard critiques, such moralities assume an implausibly atomistic view of the self and thus fail to appreciate the moral import of particularity and cultural substance: particular relationships between unique individuals, on the one hand, and membership in particular cultural communities or traditions, on the other. Mead’s analysis shows that the critics are on to an important point: if individuation depends on socialization, then any anthropologically viable system of morality must protect not only the integrity of individuals but also the web of relationships and cultural forms of life on which individuals depend for their moral development. Discourse ethics, Habermas claims, meets this two-fold demand in virtue of the kind of mutual perspective-taking it requires. If we examine (U), we see that it requires participants to attend to the values and interests of each person as a unique individual; conversely, each individual conditions her judgment about the moral import of her values and interests on what all participants can freely accept. Consequently, moral discourse is structured in a way that links moral validity with solidaristic concern for both the concrete individual and the morally formative communities on which her identity depends.

The central task of Habermas’s democratic theory is to provide a normative account of legitimate law. His deliberative democratic model rests on what is perhaps the most complex argument in his philosophical corpus, found in his Between Facts and Norms (1996b; German ed., 1992b; for commentary, see Baynes 1995; Rosenfeld and Arato 1998; vom Schomberg and Baynes 2004). Boiled down to its essentials, however, the argument links his discourse theory with an analysis of the demands inherent on modern legal systems, which Habermas understands in light of the history of Western modernization. The analysis thus begins with a functional explanation of the need for positive law in modern societies. This analysis picks up on points he made in TCA (see sec. 3.1 above).

Societies are stable over the long run only if their members generally perceive them as legitimate: as organized in accordance with what is true, right, and good. In premodern Europe, legitimacy was grounded in a shared religious worldview that penetrated all spheres of life. As modernization engendered religious pluralism and functional differentiation (autonomous market economies, bureaucratic administrations, unconstrained scientific research), the potentials for misunderstanding and conflict about the good and the right increased—just as the shared background resources for the consensual resolution of such conflicts decreased. When we consider this dynamic simply from the standpoint of the (D) [discourse]-principle, the prospects for legitimacy in modern societies appear quite dim.

Sociologically, then, one can understand modern law as a functional solution to the conflict potentials inherent in modernization. By opening up legally defined spheres of individual freedom, modern law reduces the burden of questions that require general (society-wide) discursive consensus. Within these legal boundaries, individuals are free to pursue their interests and happiness as they see fit, normally through various modes of association, whether that pursuit is primarily governed by modes of strategic action (as in economic markets), by recognized authority or consensual discourse (e.g., within religious communities, in the sciences), or by bureaucratic rationality (as in hierarchically organized voluntary enterprises). Consequently, modern law is fundamentally concerned with the definition, protection, and resolution of conflicts among, individual freedoms in their various institutional and organizational contexts.

The demands on the legitimation of law change with this functional realignment: to be legitimate, modern law must secure the private autonomy of those subject to it. The legal guarantee of private autonomy in turn presupposes an established legal code and a legally defined status of equal citizenship in terms of actionable basic rights that secure a space for individual freedom. However, such rights are expressions of freedom only if citizens can also understand themselves as the authors of the laws that interpret their rights—that is, only if the laws that protect private autonomy also issue from citizens’ exercise of public autonomy as lawmakers acting through elected representatives. Thus, the rights that define individual freedom must also include rights of political participation. As Habermas understands the relation between private and public autonomy, each is “co-original” or “equiprimordial,” conceptually presupposing the other in the sense that each can be fully realized only if the other is fully realized. The exercise of public autonomy in its full sense presupposes participants who understand themselves as individually free (privately autonomous), which in turn presupposes that they can shape their individual freedoms through the exercise of public autonomy. This equiprimordial relationship, Habermas (1998a, chap. 9) believes, enables his discourse theory to combine the best insights of the civic republican and classical liberal traditions of democracy, which found expression in Rousseau and Locke, respectively.

The idea of public autonomy means that the legitimacy of ordinary legislation must ultimately be traceable to robust processes of public discourse that influence formal decisionmaking in legislative bodies. Habermas summarizes this requirement in his democratic principle of legitimacy: “only those statutes may claim legitimacy that can meet with the assent of all citizens in a discursive process of legislation that in turn has been legal constituted” (1996b, 110). As he goes on to explain, this principle articulates the core requirement for “externally” institutionalizing the different types of practical discourse that are relevant for the justification of particular laws. Decisions about laws typically involve a combination of validity claims: not only truth claims about the likely consequences of different legal options, but also claims about their moral rightness (or justice), claims about the authenticity of different options in light of the polity’s shared values and history, and pragmatic claims about which option is feasible or more efficient. Legitimate laws must pass the different types of discursive tests that come with each of these validity claims. Habermas also recognizes that many issues involve conflicts among particular interests that cannot be reconciled by discursive agreement on validity but only through fair bargaining processes.

Sri Aurobindo on Integral Realisation

Sunday, April 29th, 2007

The following passage from The Life Divine pretty aptly sums up the distinction between the relative and the divine consciousness:

We, human beings, are phenomenally a particular form of consciousness, subject to Time and Space, and can only be, in our surface consciousness which is all we know of ourselves, one thing at a time, one formation, one poise of being, one aggregate of experience; and that one thing is for us the truth of ourselves which we acknowledge; all the rest is either not true or no longer true, because it has disappeared into the past out of our ken, or not yet true, because it is waiting in the future and not yet in our ken. But the Divine Consciousness is not so particularised, nor so limited; it can be many things at a time and take more than one enduring poise even for all time.

Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine, ch.16, “The Treiple Status of Supermind” p.145 

How then can the relative mind and the surface consciousness, which sees and can be only one thing at a time, arrive at an understanding of the Absolute, which is all things at all times?

Thus the three schools of Vedanta – Nondualism, Qualified Dualism, and Dualism, can be seen as equally true, but also equally partial and limited, because each is based on a mental interpretation of only one particular spiritual experience:

It is indeed only when our human mentality lays an exclusive emphasis on one side of spiritual experience, affirms that to be the sole eternal truth and states it in the terms of our alldividing mental logic that the necessity for mutually destructive schools of philosophy arises.  Thus, emphasising the sole truth of the unitarian consciousness, we observe the play of the divine unity, erroneously rendered by our mentality into the terms of real difference, but, not satisfied with correcting this error of the mind by the truth of a higher principle, we assert that the play itself is an illusion. Or, emphasising the play of the One in the Many, we declare a qualified unity and regard the individual soul as a soul-form of the Supreme, but would assert the eternity of this qualified existence and deny altogether the experience of a pure consciousness in an unqualified oneness. Or, again, emphasising the play of difference, we assert that the Supreme and the human soul are eternally different and reject the validity of an experience which exceeds and seems to abolish that difference. But the position that we have now firmly taken absolves us from the necessity of these negations and exclusions: we see that there is a truth behind all these affirmations, but at the same time an excess which leads to an ill-founded negation. Affirming, as we have done, the absolute absoluteness of That, not limited by our ideas of unity, not limited by our ideas of multiplicity, affirming the unity as a basis for the manifestation of the multiplicity and the multiplicity as the basis for the return to oneness and the enjoyment of unity in the divine manifestation, we need not burden our present statement with these discussions or undertake the vain labour of enslaving to our mental distinctions and definitions the absolute freedom of the Divine Infinite.

 

(ibid p.149)

Similarily, I would assert that Buddhist shunyavada (if this is indeed distinct from Shankaran Advaita) is another partial perspective, and so on again with any philosophy and any spiritual experience that human consciousness can conceive or attain.

Nor should we just follow Sri Aurobindo in a literalist sense, saying atht every word and punctuation mark is true for all time.  To me, that is bad as following a religion.  Rather, the above words – or any other that is inspirational – can be used as the impetus for gnosis, which means going beyond the limited mental perspective to direct appreciation of the Supreme.
 

Derrida and nonduality by Desilet

Tuesday, April 24th, 2007

The above is the title of a new essay at Integral World. I’ve provided some key excerpts below, while editing Desilet’s comments about the Open Integral discussion on the topic to the end. Desilet’s characterization is interesting in light of my posts making several of the same points. It is also interesting that he does not make one reference to anything specific said in our dialogs on the topic.

In this article Desilet compares Derrida with Sankara’s monist Vedanta. I have done the same at OI and also introduced the “nondual” of Nagarjuna. The latter would most certainly agree with Desilet that even the nondual itself is “neither dual nor nondual or both dual and nondual.” So I’d like to invite Desilet to a dialog here on these points of similarity and difference (and differance) in the comments. I will add my comments also in that section forthcoming. For now the excerpts, from the Integral World essay:

For Derrida, the difference between any oppositional pair derives from différance and he uses this new term to suggest a new way of understanding not only the relationship between opposites but also the ground of being from which oppositional tensions spring.

The “trace” is that which both marks and erases itself in the same stroke.

Derrida finds the trace structure as not only applicable to understanding language but also consciousness and every form of being and presence.

The ultimate purpose of the via negativa of neti, neti resides in removing blocks in the path toward attainment of the “pure consciousness” of Atman-Brahman, also called the Witness.

…for Sankara the only way out is to transcend language altogether, so that all the opposites, and indeed all conceptualizing, are canceled by the direct intuition (anubhava) of the real.

By contrast, Derrida thinks this trap may be escaped by staying within language but on the middle path between the pairs of opposites. When the opposites of language are maintained in dynamic tension, through a continual deconstruction of first one opposite and then the other, the real is experienced. For the moment the real is spoken, it is tending to swing the pendulum of language toward either one or the other of the opposites. Only by a continual deconstructing and reversing of each pendulum swing may we experience the real.

For Derrida, the constant change and challenge that this deconstruction requires is not a cause for lament—it is rather the recognition that such a process, with its ongoing need for deconstruction, is itself the real . . . . Thus the impossibility of the everpresent desire to experience the real as pure presence.

Both language and consciousness share the structure of the trace as the effect of différance. The two are always and everywhere woven together such that one never occurs without the other and both open upon and reflect the structure of the real. Language and ordinary consciousness cannot be essentially separated from the real.

This reference to spiritual realization transitions into a discussion of themes relevant to the question of nonduality where Coward goes on to say that for Derrida “the dynamic tension in the becoming of language is itself the whole. . . . The language we are deconstructing is our own thinking and speaking—our own consciousness. We ourselves are the text we are deconstructing. This is why, for Derrida, there is nothing outside of texts. Deconstruction is the process of becoming self-aware, of self-realization” (216).

The transcendentalism implicit in monist metaphysical positions induces a focus on various programs of self perfection as improved self-awareness, higher consciousness, self-actualization, and ultimately self-transcendence into the ultimate oneness of pure consciousness or pure being.

By contrast the deconstructive approach advocated by Derrida moves the emphasis away from becoming a pure or highest self or consciousness toward becoming a better partner. For Derrida, the self/other relation, regarded as irreducible and inescapable, is already a divided or shared quest. Each side remains essential to the other—not as an ethical imperative but as an ontological condition. This view structures life ontologically as relation (tension) exposed to rupture and everpresent mystery or difference. In this approach to life, every state of being involves relation (to the other) and life thereby becomes relation: on the upside, as the art of love (cooperation) and, on the downside, as the art of negotiation.

Although evoking the strategy of negative theology, this approach is neither dual nor nondual or both dual and nondual, but in a way that differs importantly from the qualities and implications of the tradition of negative theology.

When adding this information to the mix of recent postings on the topic of nonduality on Open Integral (under the heading “Integral Metatheory” and dated around March 20th and forward), many may want to throw up their hands in exasperation. How do such subtle theoretical discussions differ from the famous theological problem of determining how many angels fit on the head of a pin? How or why does it matter in deciding what nuances of nonduality or duality may lie at the core of “reality”?