Virtue Ethics and Gaming: A Gamer’s Perspective

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Andrew Cuff on January 17, 2008

As early as the Greek Socratic philosophers in 5^th Century B.C., an idea called virtue ethics has permeated axiological discussion.  Virtue ethics are based on actions that qualify as “good” or “virtuous,” and make a man a virtuous person.  Classically accepted virtues include courage, loyalty, love, truth, compassion, patience, and several others.  Every principle of virtue ethics, if it is studied closely, is revealed to be connected with how a man acts.  Rather that discussing an argument that supports or denies the legitimacy of virtue theory, let us instead assume it (for the sake of discussion) and continue with the question: Is it logical to apply any sort of ethics for “right action” to the gaming world, where action is highly contextualized?  In other words, when a person plays a game as another person, are his actions still subject to being virtuous?

            This question applies to many different types of games.  While the argument usually centers on video games, many other types of games should be taken into account, as some have often taken center stage in world media and with the Christian Church, one of the biggest American proponents of virtue ethics.  For example, it could be argued that a person playing monopoly is not acting as himself, but rather a rich tycoon who cares not for the people he is taking advantage of.  Similarly, an actor in a movie could be said to be “playing a game” when he cheats on his wife by filming a bedroom scene.  Because he is not committing adultery as himself, but rather as his character in the play or movie, some would claim he cannot be held responsible.  Also, tabletop role playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons come to the forefront of the argument.  Regardless of the inquisition-like relationship that D&D players had with the Christian church in the 1980’s and 90’s, Dungeons and Dragons and hundreds of other games like it still find a huge audience in those who practice virtue ethics.  The pure connection between player and character, as well as the unlimited aspect of choice found in a role playing game world makes RPG’s of this type very pertinent to the discussion at hand.  Obviously, the word “game” has massive scope, even when narrowed down to those games which involve role playing as some other character.  For this reason, the importance of determining whether virtue ethics should be applied to gaming, and if so to what extent, is paramount.

            There are two main problems with comparing gaming to real life.  The first is finding a connection between the buttons pushed (or whatever the applicable game may be) and the movements made by an in-game character.  When the soldier guns down innocent civilians (whoops! Lose 10 points), should this weigh heavily on the conscience of the one controlling him?  If this dead civilian were a real person, and the game soldier had just taken human life (however that may be possible), then the vast majority would agree that yes, the one controlling the soldier is culpable.  Therefore, a connection between player and character cannot be denied.  However, the real question lies in asking whether the innocent civilian gunned down does in fact have a valuable life.  This is an action that is almost always considered to be immoral: the purposeful killing of a non-participant in battle.  In this case, though, is this “civilian” not just a collection of zeroes and ones?  Would it be wrong for me to type a collection of these two numbers on this paper and then erase them?  Obviously the action of deleting the in-game civilian could not be considered wrong, any more than destroying a picture of this civilian would be.  The gaming world belongs to a lower caste of reality, as found in Plato’s comparison of images and the physical world.  In the same way that an author can kill all of the characters in his book, the gamer can kill the inhabitants of the game world.  Although it seems straightforward, this explanation would not suffice for some.  Game actions, these would say, are all still based on human decisions.  The Halo player who clubs one of his squad members and takes the shotgun for himself is not criticized for taking the AI’s life, but rather for acting in a dishonorable fashion.  After all, he could have made the decision to not to kill his robotic teammate.  In the game world, this decision would obviously have been superior in regard to virtue.  However, I believe that the same argument about the value of life applies in this situation.  Would it be more virtuous for me to delete the collection of zeroes and ones on my computer screen, or more virtuous to let them stay?  Because the answer is ambiguous, I believe that there is no action that can be undertaken against a fictional character in a game world that is inherently morally wrong.

            The second problem with comparing gaming to real life is that all of a gamer’s actions are highly contextualized.  The previous examples all used the argument that because a fictional life has no value where it is placed on the scale of reality, it is not wrong to take this life.  However, this does not deal with such traditional vices as stealing, lying, or cheating.  Because technology is limited in our time, these aspects to virtue ethics often do not appear in video games, and are therefore left out of the discussion.  However, these aspects can be found both in board games such as Monopoly, and tabletop role playing games like Dungeons and Dragons.  A Monopoly player (who is in fact role-playing a wealthy, probably corrupt, tycoon) has the option to hide his pile of money under his title deeds, and when casually asked how much he has, to deceive another player for the sake of future economic superiority.  More prevalently, the “thief” class of character in D&D is specially designed to undertake actions that would be against the law and virtue ethics in modern society, such as breaking and entering, assassination, stealing, escaping from prison, and spying.  Because both the Monopoly tycoon and the D&D thief often act as if with impunity, undertaking actions that they would not dare undertake in the real world, it suggests a certain moral safeguard that they somehow believe they have.  After all, why would a man seen as honest by his friends still be seen this way after a game of Hasbro’s Diplomacy, where treachery is commonplace?  The wall that prevents corruption of a game character from translating over to the player is contextualization of ethics.  In order for a person’s actions to be considered against an ethical system, the person must be said to be performing those actions.  When acting as another person, who can be held responsible for their actions?  The classic example of this is the author.  When Dostoevsky wrote Crime and Punishment, did he, in fact, murder the miserly old woman and steal her money?  To claim that he did so is ridiculous!  Dostoevsky was simply responsible for creating the character Raskolnikov, then writing the novel based on what such a character would do.  In the same way, a player who controls a character who makes a habit of consistent lying to other characters in the game world is most likely causing his character to do what a character of this type would do if under its own volition.  These actions are known as contextualized actions, and cannot be considered moral depravity of the player.  However, not all game actions can be considered contextualized actions.  Depending on the game being played, it is possible for depraved actions to be inseparable from the player performing them.  Let us revisit the earlier example of the actor who cheats on his wife in a movie.  I (and most likely the actor’s wife) would find it very difficult to absolve the ribald thesbian for such an audacious vice.  What is the difference between this actor’s non-virtuous part to play and the Monopoly Tycoon’s selfishness and relentless ambition?

The answer to this question lies in negative effects that a game can have and the causes of those effects.  A game’s negative effects on the real world create moral culpability for its players.  The total negative result of a depraved action in a game world is best represented by a three-dimensional graph entitled “Total Negative Effect.”

On the X axis of the graph is the number of players.  This has an effect on the total amount of wickedness for an obvious reason; killing a man with seven children obviously does more total damage than killing a man with one (all other factors being equal).  This is not a measurement of how much culpability the performer of the action must take upon himself, but a measurement of the total effect of the action.  For example, watching an adult play the controversial Grand Theft Auto videogame series may scar a five year old for life: violence, profanity, theft, sexual misconduct, disrespect for women, and blatant disregard for authority barely scratches the surface of all that goes on in this game.  In the context of the X axis, scarring ten of these five year olds for life is worse than scarring just one (all other factors being equal).

The Y Axis of the graph comprises something less quantitative, but still abstractly so.  This is the inability of a given player to separate game play from reality.  For example, it may be hard for a six year old who plays gruesome video games until the time he is twenty to keep from being a violent person.  However, it is still possible for the six-year old to understand that he is simply playing a game, and should never undertake these actions in real life.  There are many effects of an inability to separate games from reality, and they are all negative.  For example, those who play economic simulation games such as Monopoly and Railroad Tycoon may fail to appreciate the value of money and hard work.  Those who play games that include violence and/or other adult themes may become desensitized to these events in real life.  On the Y Axis, a low score of “inability to separate game play from reality” is superior to a high score, because it lowers the potential vice of a particular game action.  Under this category should also be mentioned the aspect of simulation realism, which prevents players from or allows them to distance themselves from the game they are playing.  It is very easy to distance one’s self from their game character in Axis and Allies, because only the very dedicated swear loyalty to the Emperor when playing Japan.  However, separation may be more difficult in RPG’s, where every miniscule action and thought is directly connected to the whim of the player.

The Z axis of the graph is simply a measurement of how depraved a game action truly is.  Of course, it is impossible to list with absolute certainty a hierarchy of sins.  Almost all of the axes of the graph (besides number of players, most of the time) are largely immeasurable.  However, some disparities between actions become apparent.  For example, cold-blooded murder in a game situation would be worse than fudging the numbers on an in-game tax return.  And not all depraved actions must take place completely in game context.  For example, players that perform actions that seem impolite and unsportsmanlike may be said to be breaking “social contract,” or the unwritten rules between players that allow even hostile games to be played in harmony and amusement.  The Z axis provides the basic aspect of total negative effect- that is, the negativity score of the action itself.

(At this time a small caveat is needed to maintain the structure of this very limited, very basic graph.  It does not address the question of how the virtuous man should act.  If the total negative effect of an action is miniscule, yet existent, is it ever virtuous to perform this action?  Let us say that in addition to a small negative effect, there is a massive positive effect, such as education, entertainment, or fellowship.  It is difficult to determine what the virtuous man is to do in such a situation.  For the sake of discussion, I propose that for the most part, a virtuous man has the right to perform an action in which the good result outweighs the bad result.)

Examine the following gaming vignette: A game of checkers is played between Laura Ingalls Wilder and her sister, Mary.  (A Selection from On the Banks of Plum Creek).  Laura and Mary, both unable to separate themselves from their poor checker soldiers losing their lives in combat (sending men into a battle of certain death), break into a fight.  Their Pa, incidentally, bans the game.

 

 

As you can see, the rectangular prism created by the three-dimensional graph system is a quantitative measurement of total negative effect of a game action.  If my approximations could possibly be proven correct for the Y and Z axes’ data, then the system might actually work.  However, it exists only as an abstract measurement to prove a point.  Other factors previously mentioned do not show on the graph, but are apparent at a closer look.  For example, the realism of simulation in a game of checkers is very low, so it should make for a low score on the Y axis (inability to separate game play from reality).  However, the Ingalls girls have severe social issues, and were unable to separate themselves even given the low level of realism.  One can only imagine what would befall them in a head-to-head video game sniper battle!  Another factor that works behind the scenes in this scenario is social contract.  The depraved action of sending soldiers to die is not the most negative effect in this scenario.  It is the fight resulting from the game, the breaking of social contract in the game world and falling to real-time blows.  After all, Pa did not punish Mary and Laura for killing each other’s checker pieces, but rather for mistreating each other.

In conclusion, argument shows that while gamers have no intrinsic connection with the actions that they perform in games, these actions can still have a negative effect on players, spectators, and other parties involved.  Whether because it causes no damage to anything of value (i.e. human life), or because it is highly contextualized, any traditional reason for condemning one action of a character or another is moot when it comes to the meta-level of reality- the player.  However, the reason that games have been decried as “evil” by some is not because gamers have killed artificial intelligences, but because of the effect of these killings on the player.  If the Monopoly player becomes greedy, the Risk player a warmonger, the Resistance player violent, or the Mousetrap player an abuser of animals, then gaming has edged in on virtue ethics.  This is not only true for gaming, though; it is simply a general statement that should be applied to movies watched, books read or written, and almost every other aspect of life that includes observation of or participation in simulated vice.

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Jonathan Bryan on January 10, 2008

 

Many Christian thinkers have argued that creation could have been otherwise, or even not at all. Since God is supremely happy and content in the triune relationship, God does not need to create. Creation is a free outpouring of love and beauty; it does not add anything to God’s own happiness, beauty, and love that he finds in himself. Thus, the creation of God is a free act, he could have decided to create nothing at all and he could have decided to create an entirely different world. According to Stump and Kretzmann (describing Aquinas’ view as well as their own):

…God might have chosen to create a different universe, provided it was good and created because it was good – e.g. a universe with different physical laws, different elements, different forms of life. And there is reason to suppose that a more fundamental sort of alternative is also open to him. Since goodness, the end served by his actions, is present and perfect even if nothing else exists, because he himself is identical with perfect goodness, it seems open to him not to create at all.^[1]

If this is true, why does God create at all? We may say that there is some reason for God to create, that there is some good that creation results in, but what good could creation produce that God does not already have? If, on the other hand, we say that creation does not result in some good, then what reason could God have for creating? If God creates, then it seems that it is necessary that he create the world beautifully. Since an ugly world would be against God’s very nature, it seems impossible that God could create an ugly world. As Stump and Kretzmann maintain, God can create an alternate universe only if that world is good and created because it was good. But if we accept this principle, do we also have to say that God must create the most beautiful world possible? Why would a perfect God create anything less? Given these questions, I will here consider some of the arguments which maintain that creation is necessary, try to provide some answers to these arguments, and provide some arguments for the notion that God is free to create a different world or no world at all.

The first argument I will consider uses the definition of God found in the Ontological argument. It seems that we can take the principle that God is “that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-thought” or that God is a maximally excellent being, and try to show that God is only able to create the most beautiful world possible. If creating the most beautiful world possible is a great-making property (that is, all other things being equal, if a being who creates the most beautiful world possible is better than a being who does not) then it seems that God must create the most beautiful world possible in every possible world, (which means that creation is necessary). In other words:

1. God is a maximally great being.

2. Necessarily, a being is maximally great only if it has maximal excellence in every world.

3. Necessarily, a being has maximal excellence in every world only if it creates the most beautiful world possible in every possible world.

4. Therefore, creation could not have been otherwise.

The problem with this argument is the third premise. Should we really say that the act of creating is a great making property? If we do, we seem to be saying that God needs to create in order to be God, and that the love, beauty, goodness, etc. in the relationship of the Trinity is not sufficient after all. It seems, on the other hand, that we can replace 3 with a claim which seems truer and which reaches the opposite conclusion:

3. Necessarily, a being is maximally great only if it is maximally great regardless of whether it creates any world.

4. Therefore, a maximally great being need not create any world to be maximally great.

A more common argument for the necessity of creation follows along the lines of Leibniz’s principle of sufficient reason. Menssen and Sullivan give us a Leibnizian line of argument that God could not do other than create the best possible world:

1. God choose to create this world over all other possible worlds.

2. It is irrational to choose x over y unless one judges x to be better than y.

3. God cannot act irrationally.

4. Therefore, this world is better than all other possible worlds.

5. Therefore, there is a best possible world.

6. If there is a best possible world, then God must actualize or create it.

7. Therefore, God must create the best possible world.^[2]

One may question, however, whether the second premise is true. As Messen and Sullivan point out, it may be the case that it is possible to choose between equally attractive alternatives, or it may be the case that there is no “best possible world,” and so any world God chooses would automatically be a lesser world than he could have chosen.^[3] Premise 2, in fact, seems to have weight only if we are already assuming that there is never a state of affairs in which two equally attractive alternatives are presented. But why should we suppose that there are no such states of affairs? Without any argument that there are no such states of affairs, we have no reason to accept premise 2 of the argument. But does Leibniz at least show that God must create some world, even if it there is no best world? Messen and Sullivan provide us with this variation:

(Where W includes all possible states of affairs in which God creates no world, and W* includes all possible states of affairs in which God creates some world.)

1. There is at least one world in W*

2. If there is at least one world in the set of possible worlds W*, then God must create a material world (must actualize one of the possible worlds in W*) [because]

a. Some possible worlds in W* are better than all possible worlds in W.

b. Where there are possible worlds of any type x that are better than possible worlds of type y, God’s act of creating a type-x world is better than his act of creating a type-y world.

c. If one action is better than another, then God cannot choose the less perfect action over the more perfect action.

3. Therefore, God must create a world in W*.^[4]

The first premise we may wish to challenge in this argument is 2a, “some possible worlds in W* [where God and some world exists] are better than all possible worlds in W [where only God exists]. Messen and Sullivan think this premise may be true, but I would like to put forth the following counter argument:

1. Nothing that God creates has any ontological value which God himself does not also have.

2. Therefore, a state of affairs in which God creates some world (W*) is of equal value to a state of affairs in which God does not create some world (W).

In other words, if God creates some world, everything beautiful, good, valuable etc. about that world is merely a reflection of God’s beauty, goodness, value and so forth. Thus, if God exists, he cannot add any value to that state of affairs by creating something, regardless of whether it happens to be the best possible world. This seems sufficient to defeat premise 2.

The premise that Menssen and Sullivan take issue with, however is 2c. Banking on their earlier insistence that we need not accept Leibniz’ contention that there is a best possible world, they insist that 2c is false because “it seems completely arbitrary to require that God create a material world, to hold that God’s creation is necessary, but to allow that he might create a less than the best possible world, that he might perform some creative act less good than another he was capable of performing.”^[5] In other words, if we are arguing not that God must create the best possible world but only that God must create some world, then we have already let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, in allowing God to create a world which is not the best. If God does not choose the best, than he is already, it seems, performing a less perfect action than he could, and so 2c is already assumed to be false.

It seems, therefore, that we have good reasons to reject the Leibnizian argument for a creation that could not be otherwise. As none of this is able to explain, perhaps, the burning question of the Leibnizian minded person: “why then did God create the universe?” I offer (since I do not know the answer to this question) two arguments which I think show that it is better to view the universe as something that could have been otherwise. First, the otherness of creation and the distance it has from God is required for its very beauty in reflecting God, which could not exist if creation existed necessarily. Second, a non-compatibilistic view of free will, which is necessary for a good understanding of the beauty of the relationship between God and creatures created in his image, is impossible if creation is necessarily the way it is. The first of these arguments, which I draw from David Bentley Hart (hopefully without misunderstanding him), I put as follows:

1. In order for creation to reflect the beauty of God, its beauty must in some way be other than (but not more than) the beauty of God which is essential to God.

2. If creation is necessary, then it is not other than the beauty of God which is essential to God.

3. Creation is a reflection of God’s beauty.

4. Therefore, creation is not necessary.

The first two premises may not seem obviously true. In defense of the first premise, I think it would be advantageous to think of what it would mean for the beauty of creation to be identical to the beauty of God. If this were the case, creation would not just reflect but would be or contain the full beauty of God. This seems clearly heretical. Creation must be something not God, it must be somehow distant from God’s own being, so that it can truly be a reflection of God and not some odd fourth person of the Godhead. Given this, it seems that the first premise should be accepted. As for the second premise, it seems to me that any creation which God creates necessarily would be a necessary extension of God’s nature. That is, to argue that creation is necessary we would maintain that creation must be X (and exist) because God must be Y. But any such formula would seem to make a necessary connection between the essence of God and creation. That is, creation itself would be necessary for God to be God. Given this, and given the obviousness of the third premise, I conclude that creation could have been otherwise than it is. According to Hart:

The freedom of God from ontic determination is the ground of creation’s goodness: precisely because creation is uncompelled, unnecessary, and finally other that the dynamic life of coinherent love whereby God is God, it can reveal how God is the God he is; precisely because creation is needless, an object of delight that shares God’s love without contributing anything that God does not already possess in infinite eminence, creation reflects the divine life, which is one of delight and fellowship and love; precisely because it is not “substantially” from God, or metaphysically cognate to God’s essence, or a pathos of God, it is an analogy of the divine perichoresis and that obeys no necessity but divine love itself.^[6]

What Hart wants to defend in this paragraph is the utter sufficiency of the Trinity to love and be loved. Creation is unnecessary, and because it is unnecessary it is able to reveal who God is.

The second argument I wish to present is as follows:

1. If creation could not be otherwise, then creatures could not be otherwise.

2. If creatures could not be otherwise, then they cannot have non-compatibilistic free will.

3. If creatures cannot have this sort of free will, they cannot be really involved in a true relationship with God and so reflect God’s glory to an extent further than the rest of creation.

4. Creatures are (or should be) involved in a true relationship with God and reflect God’s glory to an extent further than the rest of creation.

If we accept the earlier point that creation can only reflect God’s beauty because there is some distance between God and creation, we should acknowledge a different sort of distance between God and man. God created man in his image, which means he should reflect God’s beauty in a fuller sense than do the other created things. This further beauty, I argue, is in the real relationship between God and man which does not exist between, for example, God and thistle bushes. Thistle bushes do not will, love, or obey, and so are not able to maintain the level of relationship with God that man was created for. Now, for man to truly will God’s beauty, love God, and obey God, and for this willing, loving, and obeying to be truly his own will, love, and obedience, it seems that he must have free will in some kind of libertarian sense, that is, a will which involves choices which are truly his own and not someone else’s. The point I am making is very similar to the point about creation needing to be other than God. In order for there to exist a relation between God and man, there must be a distance from God in an even more radical way than the general otherness of creation. A man’s will to choose God must in some sense be his own will, but it seems obvious to me that a determined will is not at all his own. This, I think, is what Lewis argues in Mere Christianity:

The happiness which God designs for His higher creatures is the happiness of being freely, voluntarily united to Him and to each other in an ecstasy of love and delight compared with which the most rapturous love between man and woman on this earth is mere milk and water. And for that you need free will.^[7]

Since a creation that could not be otherwise would not allow for libertarian choices, it seems to me we have good reason to believe that creation does not exist necessarily.

---

[1] Stump, Elenore and Norman Kretzmann. “Absolute Simplicity” Faith and Philosophy 2, 4. 1985. Pg 353

[2] Menssen, Sandra and Thomas Sullivan. “Must God Create?” Faith and Philosophy 3: 1995. Pg 322

[3] Ibid. Pg 323.

[4] Ibid. Pg 323-324

[5] Ibid. Pg 327-328

[6] Hart, David Bentley. The Beauty of the Infinite: The Aesthetics of Christian Truth. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003. Pg 158

[7] Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity. New York: HarperCollins, 2001. Pg 48

Buddhism and Stoicism: Two Ancient Philosophies

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Andrew Cuff on Thursday, 2007.

The following essay, seeking to compare the seemingly unrelated philosophies of Stoicism and Buddhism, must first begin with a brief overview of both religions. I hope to conclude by stating the obvious parallels between Buddhism and Stoicism and speculating on how these came about. Furthermore, I hope to ascertain whether the ethical practices of either system are indeed viable.

Buddhism, an Eastern mystic religion that originated in India around the 6th century B.C., is very popular in almost every East Asian country, especially China. It was founded by Siddhartha Gautama, later known as “The Buddha.” The Buddha created this religion because of his frustration with the system of Hinduism under which he was raised. Disillusioned, he authored what are called the Four Noble Truths (paraphrased): 1) Life is suffering, 2) Suffering arises from desire, 3) Suffering can be lessened by the lessening of desire, and 4) This can be achieved through the eightfold path. The eightfold path, which I will not delve into here, is basically a guideline for right living, including how one should speak, act, think, etc. The rest of Buddhist thought is a massive collection of holy prayers and writings, basically comprising a pantheistic drama not unlike the Greek myths. A Buddhist eventually tries to achieve Nirvana, a true enlightenment of soul and body that leads to ultimate existence, which is practically non-existence, or the eradication of all suffering. To achieve this, a Buddhist must become more and more enlightened through meditation and following the eightfold path.

Stoicism is a Greco-Roman philosophy which arose in the 3rd or 4th century B.C. Credit for its invention usually goes to Zeno, who held a school at Citium where he presented the teachings of Stoicism. Stoicism is essentially the philosophy of self-denial and self-control. Zeno was quoted to have said, “Steel your sensibilities, so that life shall hurt you as little as possible.” Basically, Stoicism taught that if the will was in line with an essentially deterministic natural order, then it was obviously the most virtuous choice to align the will with this natural order. For example, if a man will not be your friend, then stop desiring his friendship. Then, if he changes his mind, begin to desire it once more. Stoicism assumed that the man with complete control over his emotions was a man of great honor. Coupled with the suppression of emotion was a faith in the gods, especially for the Roman military. A good Roman soldier would put his faith in Mithras, slayer of the bull. In these myths Roman men would find role models for Stoicism. Some famous quotes from Roman authors concerning Stoicism include the following:

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.
-Marcus Aurelius

Despise not death, but welcome it, for nature wills it like all else.
-Marcus Aurelius

Reason should direct and appetite obey.
-Cicero

To be content with what one has is the greatest and truest of riches.
-Cicero

A man is as miserable as he thinks he is.
-Seneca

A well governed appetite is the greater part of liberty.
-Seneca

As you can see, the Stoicist philosophy was the inspiration for the words of great Roman authors who claimed that self-denial was the path to happiness. It was this Greek philosophy that shaped the early Roman Empire, and today gives us an idea of what it was truly like to think like a Roman.

Having examined the philosophies of Buddhism and Stoicism, it is almost impossible to deny the relationship between the two. Buddhism calls for self-denial and personal calm as the path to heavenly enlightenment. Stoicism, similarly, calls for self-denial, but for the different reason of achieving peace on earth and being content. While Stoicism has no Four Noble Truths, it contains the exact same ideas. While it does not emphasize that life is suffering, it surely assumes it by stating that there is a way to live one’s life better, or with more virtue. Furthermore, Buddhism and Stoicism both include some form of “religious moderation.” Stoics basically inherit theirs, like much of their logic, from Aristotle. Aristotle’s moderation was known as the “Golden Mean.” It was meant to keep men from being extreme in any situation, classically summarized by the soldier who should not charge an unbeatable foe, lest he be a fool, nor should he run, lest he be a coward. Instead, he should stand his ground. Buddhism has a religious moderation known as the “Middle Path.” This is both an avoidance of extremism as well as a middle ground in metaphysical enquiries, such as existence versus non-existence. It is the way that Buddhists explain Nirvana, as a place where duality becomes unity. Both Buddhism and Stoicism even contain similar pantheistic myths to go along with the cultures in which they reside. Interestingly enough, these seemingly self-sufficient philosophies utilize religious myths alongside themselves for support.

I personally have no idea whether there is any possible historical connection between Stoicism and Buddhism. As far as my research has delved, the only possible link between the Far East and the Mediterranean is the conquest of the Macedonian Alexander the Great. Unfortunately, this provides us few clues about the origins of the two ideas, because Buddhism originated in 6th century B.C., whereas Alexander’s conquest was 3rd century. Perhaps Eastern philosophers came to Greece and shared their ideas with the pre-Socratics, although this seems to me a laughable concept. I am forced to conclude that as similar as the two strains of thought seem to me, they have no historical link.

Now that we have skimmed the surface of what these two philosophies entail, I wish to examine and discuss whether the ideas found in both worldviews are practical for everyday life. Does eliminating one’s desires truly bring happiness? Is there some sort of virtue to be had in synthesizing every two extreme opposites that one comes across? I would argue that the problem with Stoic/Buddhist philosophy is its main tenet. It assumes that, first of all, man can have control over his desires. Whether or not this is true, I think that it is contradictory to say that man is not governed by desire. For example, if a man picks up a pencil and writes his name, it is because he desired to do so. This is simply based on the definition of desire: “To wish or long for, want.” (Free Online Dictionary). Any other reason given comes back to desire as its basis. Even some actions which we claim to have desired not to do, as long as we had choice in the matter, we acted on our desires. If somebody steals something, and then regrets it, it is not because they acted against their desires, but they acted upon a desire stronger than that which caused them to regret their action. Therefore, would not suppressing one’s desires only be possible through desire? That is to say that one desires to suppress desires. Without desire, which, according to Buddhism/Stoicism is wrong, choosing one philosophy over another is impossible. Therefore, I would argue that on this simple logical problem alone, the Buddhist and Stoic belief systems must be unusable.

Another problem with the idea of suppressing desire is that when compared to other philosophies, it leads to a dull worldview of vague equilibrium. I like the adage, “It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” I agree with it in most cases, at least as far as it applies to the experience of life. Surely one can be a perfect person if he sits in a dark room alone for his entire life, doing nothing but sipping cool tea and thinking about the universe. But is this the best life? No matter what worldview background one subscribes to, it is obvious that our world is a world of emotion, action, color, change, and other cosmological seasonings and spices that make life worth living. So the logical conclusion of Stoicism and Buddhism, suppression of all desires, is in the end a bland existence that would be better categorized under the worldviews of hopelessness than those of teleological import.

On Numbers (no relation to the show)

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Matthew Yocum on October 25th, 2007

 

During the nineteenth century the thought of empiricism began to pervade the sciences. The traditional platonic view of mathematics (i.e. numbers existing in and of themselves, and the discovery of said entities) began to lose support. Thus differing philosophies of mathematics arose out of the subsequent collapse trying to prove that mathematics is a valid science. Three main schools of thought were produced. Other schools of thought arose out of these three, but we shall ignore most of those for now. This paper will make a straw man of each view in opposition to my own and attempt to tear them to shreds.

Since the thesis indicated that all of the view’s truthiness will be judged by my own view, we will start there. My incoherent view is as follows: (1) Numbers and mathematical principles do not need any human to think of them in order for them to exist. (2) Numbers and mathematical principles are part of the framework of the universe. (3) Numbers and mathematical principles, while not purely logic in and of themselves, must follow logic when they are stated in an equation. For example:

Two is not equal to four.

Two and three are equal to five.

Seven is greater than zero.

Five is equal to five multiplied by five divided by five.

 

The statements above, albeit simple, must always be true. 2 can equal 3 as much as I have a circle-square in my pocket. (4) Numbers are contingent upon their relationship to one another, i.e. you cannot have 3 without 2 and so on.

The first school of thought is Logicism. The logicist attempts to reduce mathematics to pure logic. This was done to solve the apparent ontological problems with the platonic view of numbers. This was “proved” by a series of equations, now called into question, that are far too complicated to explain here.

There are questions I have regarding numbers and mathematics as logic. Mathematic equations seem to follow along the same lines as a deductive argument; the conclusion must be true if the premises are true. For example, 2 + 3 must equal 5. 2, 3, and 5 are all symbols, but are the concepts they represent logic? Does listing mathematics and numbers under the realm of logic solve the ontology and empirical problem?

The second school of thought is intuitionalism. Intuitionalists believe that mathematics is a human construction. Numbers and mathematics are a construct of the human mind. They are therefore only limited by the finite human. Because of this, the intuitionalist view holds that there is no such thing as an actual infinite.

I would disagree with this view because numbers are not a human construction; mathematics and numbers seem be woven into the very fabric of the universe. Intuitionalists believe that humans created numbers by observing quantities. For example, if farmer A had 2 cows and farmer B had 3 cows without the farmers having any concept of numbers or mathematics, it would be obvious to the farmers that farmer B has more cows (Figure 1).

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Figure 1.

The farmers would observe this over a period of time and would add linguistic qualities to the numbers themselves. I agree that humans can observe quantities, but human observation alone does not determine or exclude existence. The humans do not need to observe that 3 cows are more than 2 in order for that to be true. Along those lines, it does not necessarily follow that humans have to think of the concept of numbers in order for them to exist.

Formalism is the third school of thought. The school’s though is similar to intuitionalism, but does not believe that numbers are a mental construction. The formalist believes that numbers are purely symbols and symbols are abstract entities. Mathematical concepts are not absolutely true, “mathematics is no more than a game in which symbols are manipulated according to fixed rules” (Horsten, 2007). I do not see how this works. How can the formalist not believe that numbers are a mental construction and then say they are of a theoretical existence?

The last of the schools of thought is fictionalism. The fictionalist holds that there are no mathematical principles or numbers. Numbers and mathematical principles are like fiction stories. Mathematics describes fictional entities. There are problems inherent in the name fictional entities; what entities are fictional entities? (Horsten, 2007).

In the end, this is all naught before my eyes. Life’s most burning question has not been answered: Why is there the same amount of even numbers as there are numbers themselves? That is to say, how can the whole set of even numbers be equal to the whole set of natural numbers if they both are infinite. It seems as if this paper has been reduced to reductio ad absurdum or three lines on top of one another.

 

This paper was plagiarized mostly from these sources:

Horsten, L. “Philosophy of Mathematics”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter 2007 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), forthcoming URL = http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2007/entries/philosophy-mathematics/

Jech, T. “Set Theory”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2002 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2002/entries/set-theory/>.

“Philosophy of mathematics.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. 15 Oct 2007, 16:18 UTC. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 25 Oct 2007 <http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Philosophy_of_mathematics&oldid=164739097>.

Rafalko, R. J. Logic for an Overcast Tuesday. Belmont: Wadsworth Inc.,1990

Can God Be Said to Take Risks If He Knows Everything?

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Jonathan Bryan on October 18th, 2007

It may seem fairly obvious that an all-knowing God could not be said to take any risks. A risk seems to necessitate that something is unknown to the risk-taker. Betting money on a horse, for example, is considered risky because the gambler does not know which horse will win. If the gambler were omniscient, then he would know which horse would win and so could not, even if he wanted to, take any kind of risk. Even if he bet on a horse he knew would lose, he would not be taking a risk, but merely throwing away money. I will, however, argue that if God knows the free actions of creatures by way of perceiving them, and knows the free actions of creatures only by way of perceiving them, it is logically possible, in so far as it does not contradict anything else about God, for God to take risks even while knowing all things. My purpose is not to show that God actually did or does take risks, nor is it to argue that this particular understanding of God’s knowledge is correct (or incorrect). All I wish to do here is argue that if we attribute God’s knowledge of free choices to his perceiving those choices, then we may conclude that God’s knowledge of all things does not make it logically impossible for God to take risks.

Suppose God knows that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow. How does God know this? God could know it because he determined that you freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow. This would be just fine if it were possible to determine that something be freely chosen. It is arguable that this is not the case, however, and so this conception of God’s knowledge of free actions may not be a good one. Another way that God could know that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow is by perceiving everything about you today and deducing what you will do tomorrow. This would be just fine if knowledge of freely chosen actions could be deduced in this way. It is arguable that this is not the case, however, and so this conception of God’s knowledge of free actions may not be a good one. Yet another way that God could know that you will freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow is by perceiving the actual eating of the banana. If God is outside of time, then God could see you eating the banana tomorrow as if it were occurring this very instant. If God is not outside of time, I suppose God could still see into the future and observe you eating the banana (much like a fortune teller sees through a crystal ball, except without the crystal ball and the strange attire). Either way, God would know that you freely choose to eat a banana tomorrow in much the same way that you and I can know the free choices of other people. We know that someone is smiling at us, for example, because we see them smiling at us. We do not know that they are smiling at us because we determined them to smile at us, nor do we know that they are smiling at us because we can deduce from everything we know about them and everything we know about the surrounding conditions that they are necessarily smiling at us. We know they are smiling at us because we perceive what they are doing through our senses. God does not have “senses” in the same way we do, of course — God does not have literal eyes or ears by which he literally sees or hears us doing things. But I think it is reasonable to say that God can perceive exactly what we are doing in a far more acute way than humans can with the physical senses.

Let us suppose that God creates world X, in which there are the following: A room with two buttons (A and B), and a person (let’s call him Nate) with free will. Let us also suppose that the happiness of Nate is determined by which button he pushes, and that God wants Nate to be happy. If Nate chooses to push button A, which makes him unhappy, and God perceives Nate pushing button A, then God knows that Nate pushes button A. Now Nate’s pushing button A is dependent on a number of things. World X, first of all, has to exist. In addition, Nate has to exist and Nate has to choose to push button A. God’s knowledge of Nate’s pushing button A, then, is dependent on God creating the world X, on God creating Nate, and on Nate choosing to push button A.

Now, supposing that God did not know which button Nate would push, God could be said to have taken a risk when he created world X. Nate might become happy by pushing button B, which God wants, but Nate might also become unhappy by pushing button A, which is not what God wants. Given, however, that God knows which button that Nate will push (because he perceives Nate pushing the button) we might want to say that God does not take a risk in creating world X, and may thus want to ask why God would create world X if he knew that Nate would push button A and not button B.

I think we would be mistaken, however, in thinking that because God knows which button Nate will push; that it necessarily follows that God would not be taking a risk in creating world X. This is because God’s knowledge of Nate pushing button A is dependent on God perceiving that Nate push button A, and Nate pushing button A is dependent on his existence and the existence of world X. Thus God cannot know that Nate will push button A unless he actually creates world X, and so the reasons for which God creates world X cannot include his knowledge of Nate’s choice to push button A.

Suppose God is deciding whether to create world X. If God looks into the future and perceives Nate choosing to push button A (or if God is outside of time, God simply perceives Nate choosing to push button A), and uses this knowledge to decide to not create world X, then God contradicts himself. For in order for God to know that Nate actually chooses to push button A, God would already have decided to created world X (or if God is outside of time, God would be deciding to create world X and creating world X simultaneously). That is, God would be deciding not to create world X on the basis of knowledge which he can only know because he does create world X. It isn’t that God doesn’t know what the actions of Nate will be until Nate takes action. Rather, God does know the actions of Nate from all eternity, but God’s decision to create world X cannot be based on his knowledge of Nate’s actions, because his knowledge of Nate’s actions is itself a result of his creating world X. Thus it seems to me that God takes a risk in creating world X, not because he doesn’t know what Nate’s actions will be, but because he cannot take that knowledge into consideration when creating world X. God would not have that knowledge unless he does create world X, and so the knowledge cannot be a reason for God’s creation. God must have created world X for entirely other reasons than his knowledge of Nate’s actions.

The obvious objection to all this is to say that an omniscient God, while he may not know that Nate does in fact choose button A unless he creates world X, he would still know with absolute certainty that Nate would choose button A if world X were created. And he would know this regardless of whether world X were actually created, and so God could take this into consideration when deciding to create world X.

This is a good point, but I’m not sure if this knowledge of what someone would freely choose in a hypothetical circumstance is really knowledge. If actions are freely chosen, and not determined by prior circumstances (that is, if it is true that we are free in the libertarian sense), then can it ever be true to say that someone would freely do X in circumstance Y? I am not just saying that it would be impossible to know what someone would freely do in a hypothetical situation; I am questioning whether saying what someone would freely do in a particular situation has any real meaning. If we know that someone did in fact choose X in circumstance Y, does it follow that it is true to say that he would choose X in circumstance Y? If you put a free creature in a laboratory and observed what he chooses in a particular situation, you couldn’t conclude that he would do that same thing in the exact same circumstances; otherwise it seems that the choice he makes is not really free in the libertarian sense.

Has Dr. William Lane Craig Shown that God is Temporal in Relation to the Universe?

Presented to the Socratic Club at CBU by Jonathan Bryan on the October 4th, 2007.

Readers of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland may remember the Mad Hatter’s claim that there is an advantage in keeping good terms with Time: one could avoid doing those troublesome lessons, which start at nine, by asking the Time to change the clock to half past one, which is time for dinner. After Alice points out that in that case she would not yet be hungry for dinner, the Hatter replies that “you could keep it to half past one as long as you liked.”[1] Perhaps if Alice were a little older and had a degree in philosophy, she might question the Mad Hatter’s concept of time. It must be asked, however, what would make Alice think she really knows better than the Mad Hatter. If Alice is so sure that the Mad Hatter’s concept of time is flawed, what does she think time is? This is a difficult question to answer. For believers in God, a further difficulty is how God should be understood in relation to time. Time is usually thought to be something that everything is in or at. Everything which exists can be said to exist at some point in time, I exist right Now, at this time, but I did not exist 100 years ago. God, on the other hand, exists both right Now and 100 years ago. But what do I mean by this? Do I mean that God existed 100 years ago in the sense that 100 years ago it would be true to say that “God exists right now?” Or do I mean that, to God, 1907 and 2007 are both equally present? The latter view is consistent with the traditional view of most Christian theologians and philosophers – God is not in time like we are, rather God exists outside of time in an “Eternal Now.”[2]

The idea that the creator of the universe is not in time goes at least back to Plato’s Timaeus:

For before the heavens came to be, there were no days or nights, no months or years. But now, at the same time as he [the “Demiurge,” creator of the universe] framed the heavens, he devised their coming to be. These all are parts of time, and was and will be are forms of time that have come to be. Such notions we unthinkingly but incorrectly apply to everlasting being. For we say that it was and is and will be, but according to the true account only is is appropriately said of it. Was and will be are properly said about the becoming that passes time, for these two are motions. But that which is always changeless and motionless cannot become either older or younger in the course of time – it neither ever became so, nor is it now such that it has become so, nor will it ever be so in the future.[3]

Plotinus later elaborated on Plato’s concepts of eternity in his Enneads. Plotinus argues that eternity is “for ever in a Now, since nothing of it has passed away or will come into being, but what it is now, that it is ever.”[4] According to Plato and Plotinus, it is wrong to speak of the “everlasting being” as having a past or future. Instead, it simply is, that is, it exists always in an eternal present. This is how divine timelessness is often described by Christian philosophers.

Boethius writes that the

eternal is that which grasps and possesses wholly and simultaneously the fullness of unending life, which lacks naught of the future, and has lost naught of the fleeting past; and such an existence must be ever present in itself to control and aid itself, and also must keep present with itself the infinity of changing time.”[5]

Recently, many philosophers have raised some arguments against this view of God and time. One of the most interesting arguments against divine timelessness is that it is impossible that God could exist outside of time while being really related to creation, which is in time. Dr. William Lane Craig has recently expressed such an argument in his book Time and Eternity:

Either God existed prior to creation or He did not. Suppose He did. In that case, God is temporal, not timeless, since to exist prior to some event is to be in time. Suppose, then, that God did not exist prior to creation. In that case, without creation, He exists timelessly, since He obviously did not come into being along with the world at the moment of creation. The second alternative presents us with a new dilemma: Once time begins at the moment of creation, either God becomes temporal in virtue of His real relation to the temporal world or else He exists just as timelessly as He does without it. If we choose the first alternative, then, once again, God is temporal. But what of the second alternative? Can God remain untouched by the world’s temporality? It seems not. For at the first moment of time, God stands in a new relation in which He did not stand before (since there was no “before”). Even if in creating the world God undergoes no intrinsic change, He at least undergoes an extrinsic change. For at the moment of creation, God comes into the relation of sustaining the universe or, at the very least, of co-existing with the universe.[6]

Craig’s argument is based on the idea that no kind of change is possible for anything which is not in time. When a seed changes, for example, from a seed to a tree, it is at first a seed, and later becomes a tree. If something changes in any way it must be in time. If God goes from not being co-existent with the universe to being co-existent with the universe, this involves change (even if it is merely an extrinsic change and does not involve a change in God’s character). Thus, according to Craig, God must become temporal when he creates the universe.

The beauty of Craig’s argument is that it avoids some problems concerning the creation of the universe involved with denying divine timelessness. Those who deny divine timelessness are faced with the problem of admitting an infinite duration of time existing prior to creation. If the universe was created at a certain point in time, there were an infinite number of moments in time before the creation of the universe. If this is the case, it is impossible that the moment of creation could ever have been reached. Since, according to Craig, God exists timelessly absent creation but becomes temporal in relation to creation, this is not a problem for Craig. Craig need not respond to the question of “what was God doing before he made the universe?” with “preparing hells for people who inquire into profundities” (as Augustine has quoted someone as doing), but may answer with believers in divine timelessness that the question is nonsensical, for there was no “before” before God made the universe.

With this convenience, however, there appears to be a fatal problem in Craig’s argument. Consider the crucial point, which is that “at the first moment of time, God stands in a new relation in which He did not stand before (since there was no ‘before’).” What does this mean? Here, at least, is what it does not mean:

1. At the time before the creation of the universe, God does not co-exist with the universe.

2. At the time after the creation of the universe, God does co-exist with the universe.

3. Therefore, God at one time was not co-existent with the universe and at another time is co-existent with the universe.

4. Therefore, God changed.

5. Therefore, God is in time.

The problem, of course, is with the tensed words in the first premise. It would be false to say that God is timeless before the universe was created, since there was no “before” before there was time. Craig understands this. Perhaps the first premise can be rephrased to exclude tensed language:

1. Absent creation, God does not co-exist with the universe.

2. With Creation, God does co-exist with the universe.

Now, however, the conclusion does not follow from the premises. It is impossible to get to “God at one time was not co-existent with the universe and at another time is co-existent with the universe” unless the tensed language in premise one is kept, but this is where God is supposed to be timeless. The problem with Craig’s argument, then, is that it unknowingly assumes that time exists where it should not.

In order for a man to say that he changed from being a boy to a man, he must be able to say that there was some time when he existed as a boy. That is, he changed from being a boy to being a man if and only if he was a boy at at least one time previous to being a man. Craig wants to argue that God changed from being unrelated to the universe (absent creation), to being related to the universe (at creation). This would require, however, that God existed at at least one time absent creation. Since, however, time comes into being at the moment of creation, it follows that there was no time absent creation. Therefore there is not one single moment in time when God would have existed absent creation, and thus not one single moment in time when God would have been unrelated to the universe. Where, then, is the change (extrinsic or intrinsic) in God? It seems to me that this particular argument of Dr. Craig’s fails to show that God is temporal in relation to the universe, for now.

---

[1] Carroll, Lewis. Alice in Wonderland & Through The Looking Glass. New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 2004. Pg 76.

[2] It may be tempting, in order to secure both God’s transcendence and immanence, to say that God is both outside time and in time. This makes sense so long as by God being “in time,” it is meant that God has access to all points of time. God being “in time,” as it is here being used, however, refers to the idea that God experiences temporal succession. When it is put this way, the idea that God is both outside of and in time is contradictory. If God is in time, God experience phases in his life which can be referred to as “earlier than” or “later than” another phase. If God is outside time, God does not experience these transitions. Thus it is impossible, by this understanding, for God to be both in and outside of time.

[3] Plato. “Timaeus” Plato: Complete Works. Ed. John M. Cooper and D.S. Hutchinson. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1997. 37e-38a

[4] Plotinus. “Time and Eternity, from the Enneads.” Time. Ed. Jonathan Westphal and Carl Levenson. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1993. Pg 73.

[5] Boethius. The Consolation of Philosophy. Trans. W.V. Cooper. London: J.M. Dent, 1902. Electronic Text Center: University of Virginia Library. 24 Nov. 2006 <http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/BoePhil.html> Pg 161.

 

[6] Craig, William Lane. Time and Eternity: Exploring God’s Relationship to Time. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2001. Pg 86-87.

Cannono-Geniocracy, or “The Best System of Government Ever Devised”

Presented by Andrew Cuff to the Socratic Club on September 27th, 2007.

In the following essay, I am going to present the best system of government yet devised. This system arose from a debate concerning education, with a specific emphasis on standardized testing. It will apply to some, but not all, countries, and will definitely rest on several assumptions of possibility. One should not confuse the term “assumptions of possibility” with “assumptions of reality,” for I am not claiming hypothetical solutions to philosophical problems, only hypothetical solutions to engineering problems. Furthermore, if these assumptions of possibility are accepted, then the reader will agree that cannono-geniocracy, or the rule of the super-intelligent by use of superior firepower, is the obvious choice in every category of measuring government.

I will begin my description of cannono-geniocracy where cannono-geniocrats believe the root of modern governmental problems reside: the hierarchy of power. First, allow me to compare the hierarchy of ancient and modern governments with cannono-geniocracy. This will hopefully provide a backdrop for the concept of hierarchy. In Ancient Israel, rule of the people was a mixture between Theocracy and Monarchy. According to the Jewish tradition found in the Bible’s Old Testament, the Hebrews were originally commanded to look to God for their precepts and organization. God would elect a spokesman to speak through him, such as Moses or Samuel. The people would obey the words of this spokesman as if they were the words of the Lord. Then, contrary to the wishes of the Lord, the Hebrew people desired a king like those of their neighboring countries. God gave them Saul, who was still technically subject to the word of the Lord through the prophet Samuel. However, the kings of Israel and the God of Israel often conflicted. Nominally, though, the hierarchy looked something like: God, Prophet/King, Priests, children of Israel, foreign immigrants, and unclean. Although this is a rough sketch, it gives the basic idea of a Theo-Monarchy. Another system of government is the Communist Dictatorship found in the U.S.S.R. Because most today are familiar with their system of government, they can easily see their hierarchy: Dictator, “kitchen cabinet” (including secret police, head of education, military leaders, etc.), bureaucratic government (which was a hierarchy in itself), collaborators (obeying the laws of the system), and delinquents (not obeying the laws of the system). There were also several sub-groups based on race, gender, and class who were discriminated against hierarchically, but I am simply pointing out the basic outline of the system. Both the Theo-monarchy of Ancient Israel and the Communist Dictatorship of Modern U.S.S.R. contain a hierarchy.

The hierarchy to be found in cannono-geniocracy is based on intelligence. At the very top of the hierarchy is the Absolute Despot, known as the “Arbitrator,” “Alpha Male,” “Big Cahoona,” “Imperator,” or some other endearing term of total domination. The Absolute Despot is the smartest man in all the land (later we shall discuss how this is to be determined), and by right controls what we will simply refer to as the Robot Army. As I mentioned before, I shall be assuming that there will one day be solutions to certain engineering problems, and this is one. Consider this Robot Army incapable of disobedience to the Absolute Despot, thought-controlled, the most powerful military force on earth, and capable of almost any physical task. This is a grand assumption, but the existence of cannono-geniocracy rests upon it. Rather than engaging in all sorts of meaningless diversionary arguments about the nature of Artificial Intelligence, let us simply assume the Robot Army’s possibility.

Second in command is the Suggestion Committee, a large group of the runners-up for “smartest man in all the land.” This group of highly intelligent individuals conducts research, brainstorming, and problem-solving in order to better manipulate the forces behind the essential tenets of society, such as education, production, nutrition, entertainment, transportation, research and development, and many other departments. All of their suggestions are brought before the Absolute Despot, who sets aside a certain amount of time daily to deal with the requests. If the suggestions are ratified by the Absolute Despot, then the Robot Army will see to their implementation. For example, if the Nutrition Department invents a more efficient way to synthesize protein globules, then they prepare a concise and detailed report, which is either accepted or denied by the Absolute Despot. In this manner, the smartest humans in the land are responsible for all major decisions that determine the future of the country.

Third in the hierarchy are those who exist as high-level workers, filling positions held in American Democracy by the educated. These are the company executives, the supervisors, the engineers, scientists, doctors, writers, entertainers, educators, architects, consultants, and myriad other positions that, the majority of the time, would require much post-high school education in 21st-century American society. This level, like all other levels, is determined by one’s scores in the Standardized Test, which will be discussed later.

Fourth in the hierarchy are what cannono-geniocracy refers to as the “Faliures,” or those who cannot complete the rigorous educational requirements to become a part of one of the other three classes. Failures fill such positions as sanitation engineers (garbage men), clerks, cubicle drones, factory workers, janitors, basic mechanics, and other low-paid, low-educated positions. They do not remain Failures for their entire lives unless they choose to, for they will have many chances to improve their status (as will be explained later).

Now that the hierarchy has been explained, one can see its superiority to the other hierarchies mentioned. It is first of all much simpler, and divides society along clear lines, so that every man knows his status, and what he has yet to achieve. It also eliminates class divisions based on race and arbitrary chance; its class divisions are based solely on one’s intelligence, which varies based only on one’s desire for more intelligence. Therefore, the society will increase in intelligence as the populace comes to realize the literal reality of the adage “Knowledge is Power.” More intelligent people means a better human race and a better world. Also, there will be less unrest in society, because the intelligent man realizes that social status is not the most important aspect of life. Therefore, notions of revolution and civil disobedience will be seen as secondary.

The foundation of cannono-geniocracy is its education. A society founded on rule by the intelligent requires very specific definitions of who is the most intelligent. All capable humans will begin schooling at a younger age, in order to provide a fuller and longer educated life for all. Students will enter basic learning schools at the age of three. From here, they will progress through a series of levels similar to American Pre-school, kindergarten, elementary, and middle school. The extent of knowledge required to graduate middle school will be determined by the Absolute Despot, and the standard will most likely increase over time depending on how highly the average citizen scores on the Standardized Test. How well one scores on this test at the end of middle school determines where he will be placed in the hierarchy. This is not a lifelong determination; the test is offered again one year after the first attempt, and then again every five years, and may be taken as many times as one wishes. A low score will place a student in a low-level position, but any medium or high score will place the student in high school (a four-year program of higher education) that eventually allows the student to reach high-level positions, government positions, or even the position of Absolute Despot (if their score is higher than the current Despot’s score).

The Standardized Test, the cornerstone of cannono-geniocracy, is a conundrum in itself. If I were to explain all of the intricate aspects and sub-aspects involved in its design, then I would in fact have to be named Absolute Despot and the smartest in the land. Therefore, suffice it to say that the Standardized Test is an assumption in itself. There are some who argue that this assumption is false. They say that there are infinite concepts and precepts upon which one can be tested. Also, they claim that the test is ultimately flawed because it is based upon the intelligence of the individual who designed it. They even claim that if it is designed by a group of intelligent individuals, it is limited by the intelligence of the most intelligent member of the group. I would argue against this in two ways: first of all, I believe that intelligence exists. In order for me to rationally doubt the existence of intelligence, I would need to possess some intelligence. Because intelligence exists as an aspect of humanity, it automatically exists, as does everything else, in greater or lesser quantities in certain individuals. Therefore, there must be a rational way of determining quantity of intelligence; in other words, the Standardized Test. I would also argue that there are ways to escape the “limited intelligence” argument, or the argument that the Standardized Test is limited by the one who created it. I believe that if the Standardized Test were not simply a human endeavor, but a super-human endeavor, then its difficulty and fairness would indeed be super-human. There are many ways to achieve such super-human design. For instance, a test designed by a deity, a test designed by alien intelligence, and a test designed by a super-human machine are all methods of escaping the human intelligence ceiling for the Standardized Test.

Previously explained tenets of cannono-geniocracy include its hierarchy, its general operation, and its firm foundation in education (especially the Standardized Test). To summarize, I will include a short list of Pros and purported Cons to its governmental strategy. First of all, it has inherently a basic system of checks and balances: the possibility of revolution. The law of the land includes by default an allowance for revolution, because even if it does not, a revolution nullifies the law, and therefore allows for itself. The reason that revolution is a check is because it causes both the higher and lower ends of the hierarchy to look out for each other’s needs. It is balanced because of the Principle of Sufficient Organization. If enough low-level workers wish to revolt, they require “sufficient organization.” In other words, if they really feel oppressed enough to revolt, they will need to prove it by being exceptionally organized. Otherwise, the Robot Army will simply destroy them, as they are a minority of dissenters among the contented masses. The second argument in favor of cannono-geniocracy is that it allows for self-betterment. Unlike the old Hindu Indian caste system, a person is not stuck on their spot in the hierarchy for life. They may continue to take the Standardized Test as many times as they wish until they die. The third argument in favor of cannono-geniocracy is that it presents a system in which everyone in power is more intelligent than those not in power. Unlike American bureaucracy, there will be no government workers who cannot speak the national language, or cannot file a paper to save their life. They will all be the crème de la crème of society’s intelligentsia. Even those in high-level business positions will be moderately well-schooled. Overall, society will function myriad times better because the more intelligence one has, the more power he/she has. The fourth argument in favor of cannono-technocracy is that it pushes society to be more intelligent as a whole. Basic human nature includes a desire for power as well as a desire for intelligence. Unfortunately, modern society has suppressed that desire for intelligence by making it difficult to obtain and not very rewarding (monetarily or otherwise) once it has been obtained. Cannono-geniocracy places intelligence on an even scale with power, making it more rewarding to obtain. It also improves schooling, making intelligence easier to obtain. Overall, the system makes intelligence desirable once again.

The disadvantages of cannono-geniocracy are only those presented by pretentious “Political Scientists” who believe that, all-knowing and wise, they can predict the paths that a certain government will take, simply based on the paths that previous governments have taken. The first disingenuous accusation against cannono-geniocracy is that “Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” a quote originally derived from the writings of English political historian Lord Acton in his Letters to William Gladstone. I think that this quote must be believed to be incorrect; after all, it is most often used by those from the Judeo-Christian tradition in association with their belief in objective morality. Is not their God one of absolute power? Is He corrupted absolutely? More importantly, the Absolute Despot of cannono-geniocracy is the most intelligent man in the land. In order for any man to declare him corrupt, they would have to be more intelligent than he, in order to see all of the purposes of his schemes and actions. If they were more intelligent than he, then they would be Absolute Despot. The second accusation against cannono-geniocracy is that it is no better than the Nazi regime, where a small group of citizens is persecuted by a larger group and made to feel oppressed (obviously comparing the low-level laborers of cannono-geniocracy to the Jews and other minorities oppressed by the Holocaust). However, this is a ridiculous comparison as well. Those persecuted in the Holocaust did not choose to be of a certain race, and could not change. On the contrary, the low-level laborers of cannono-geniocracy are low-level because they did not try hard enough in school. If they wanted to improve their status, they could do so by personal study and application.As you can see, cannono-geniocracy is without a doubt the best system of government yet devised. Although its implementation may seem impossible, it really boils down to an engineering problem. It would require a forceful takeover of government, it would require highly advanced technology, and it would require ridiculous amounts of good fortune to overcome the insurmountable legal bulwarks keeping it at bay. However, do not doubt that it is coming. As you grow older, and witness the necessary technology being developed, and more and more minds converting to the cause, you, too will see its obvious superiority. Rule by the intelligent can be the only way to organize government, and the only way to protect this ideal government is by force. Therefore, cannono-geniocracy will forever reign supreme as the gubernatio optima of mankind.