Moral Saints

In my ethics class recently we've been discussing the concept of a moral saint and whether their lifestyle necessarily means they are lacking in non-moral virtues. (Did you know that Gandhi was completely celibate despite being married? And he never used any spices because he believed that food is meant for nourishment only!)

Then we read a paper suggesting that a faith in a god is necessary for these people to be able to struggle against the odds. One student suggested that this is less admirable, ie without the possibility of failure one hasn't really done anything that significant. I took it a little further by suggesting that even with the possibility of failure the possibility of a reward can make the motivations associated with some religions seem quite mercenary. I once hear an interesting description of the Norse apocalypse, Ragnarök, as the victory of evil over good. Despite this, the Norse believed that people should be good despite this inevitable failure, just because it's the right thing to do. (I now think that was an inaccurate description but that doesn't matter for the argument.)

The professor then tried to use Gallipoli as an example of complete futility, not really understanding the extent to which Anzacs are worshipped in Oz. Nor did she realise that they did retreat eventually. But then I thought of an even better example, Leonidas and the three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae. This is the email I sent my professor:

I didn't mention in class that Turkey hadn't actually entered the war when they were attacked, they just happened to be allied with Germany et al. and in a bad position. Of course it seems ridiculous (to non-antipodeans) to celebrate a defeat that shouldn't have been fought. Yes, it's a pointless waste of life and, as I recall, that's the point of the movie.

It's been years since I've seen the movie but I remember some sort of charge at the end, which must be what you meant. (I guess it's not just dramatic licence you saw, a huge portion of the troops were lost before the eventual retreat.) My mention of the 300 Spartans at Themopylae was meant as a throw-away line but walking home I remembered that Leonidas' Spartans were worshipped in the ancient world as Anzacs are in Australia and NZ. A monument was erected at Thermopylae with an interesting epitaph:

Go, tell the Spartans, stranger passing by,
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie.

Even if we don't like the martial nature of Spartan society, I think we can still see something admirable in an unwavering commitment to moral law.

Obviously I don't think it's a sensible approach to take in battle (or even that we should admire warriors) but there's something a little romantic about self-sacrifice. Maybe it's just my dislike of consequentialism that makes me veer to the other extreme.

Science Studies

I've been doing a lot of little writing tasks for class. For philosophy of science and for history of science we have to write a single page summary/critique of what we've read for that week. A few weeks ago it occurred to me that all that work probably shouldn't go to waste and that some of the things I've read in history of science might even be interesting to non-HPS folk (e.g. Jared Diamond's Collapse).

Then my computer crashed and I lost them all! If only I had posted them before the crash that would have been something more I could have recovered!!

I'm still going to post subsequent reviews if they're interesting. Today's is not all that interesting to those who don't care about the history of science but I was impressed with the style so I'll post it anyway.

Robert E. Kohler, Lords of the Fly: Drosophila Genetics and the Experimental Life

Lords of the Fly is a stunning example of what a good social history can be; that is, social constructivism put to work by a skilled historian. In his first chapter Kohler cites radical actor-network theorists Latour and Woolgar as well as more moderate Edinburgh types like Shapin. He explicitly rejects Latour’s approach, which both demands more treatment of non-human actors and precludes serious treatment of intellectual processes – ‘Bruno Latour has been urging scholars for years to regard creatures (and inanimate things) as the equals of human actors, but he does not actually deal with the biology of viruses in his study of Pasteur.’ (This is not an accidental omission on Latour’s part, as Kohler suggests, rather it reflects his skepticism regarding scientists’ “rhetoric”.)

Lords of the Fly is a much richer book for Kohler’s choice to take seriously the constructive aspect of Latour’s theory while maintaining a commitment to intellectual history. That is, he treats Drosophila melanogaster as an evolving species in the same way that biologists would but extends his examination by considering the laboratory as yet another environment to which it may be better or worse adapted:

Drosophila first occupied the domestic microenvironment for which its natural qualities made it best adapted…
They had distinctive modes of dispersal, not by wind and banana boat but in cozy, protected mailing tubes.

But Lords of the Fly is more than a novelty approach, it is an outstanding intellectual history. Kohler also discusses the science of Drosophila genetics in great detail, describing how study of this insect allowed biologists to exponentially increase their understanding of genetics, evolution, developmental and molecular biology in a matter of decades.

Having largely rejected the actor-network approach, Kohler argues that his real aim is for the sort of balance between history, sociology and science that is sought by Strong Programme metascientists – ‘This study of Drosophila and the drosophilists should be read as an experiment in the kind of history for which Miller calls: a material, cultural, and social history of scientists at work.’ He succeeds and it is this approach that is the greatest virtue of the book.

The most interesting aspect of Lords of the Fly is the delightfully subtle way that Kohler treats the scientists in the same manner as Drosophila – ‘For drosophilists, too, the exchange system was a vehicle of dispersal and colonization and transformed them from a local species of experimental biologists to a cosmopolitan one’! This is not just a literary quirk but a product of Kohler’s Edinburgh leanings for, if the sociologist is just another scientist, this is clearly the most appropriate language even when the subjects are Homo sapiens.

Despite this distance from his subject when describing the field, Kohler’s detailed accounts of the interactions between individual drosophilists are vivid enough to make the reader feel he knows the characters.

Wartime Reputations

Got together with some friends last night and met one of their friends as you do. Upon hearing where I was from, instead of the usual "I hear Sydney is a very beatiful city. I'd like to visit one day", he commented approvingly on recent anti-war protests! It's nice to hear that our reputation isn't just as another member of the coalition of the willing.

New Link

An email from Wade on abortion reminded me of an article I read a while ago. Emily Maguire, an Australian writer, pointed out in the SMH that it really is hypocritical for politicians to descry the use of taxpayer funds to support abortion if they really believe it to be murder. If they really believed that a foetus is worth as much as an adult they should be protesting out the front of abortion clinics (as some people do). Instead they cluck their tongues and try to withhold money!

She's written a few more eminently sensible things since then about things like non-religious ethics and free speech around religion. So I've added her blog to my mail aggregator and the sidebar.