Mon - December 8, 2003


Preface


As the dogmas of reason, science, and technology have expanded their intellectual influence over the last few centuries, the very term "dogma" has been saddled with all manner of negative connotations. It's seen, through a subtle fallacy, as the antithesis of reason. This fallacy is the belief that since so much seems to be explained using logic (or reason), then logic is the only valid means of explaining anything. But logic is only a process, a technique for moving from an observation or presupposition to a conclusion. That conclusion isn't made any more certain than the initial presupposition, as if by alchemy, through the use of logic to get from the latter to the former. If the body of human knowledge, the sciences broadly defined, is the fruit of this logical process, the ultimate presuppositions are dogma. Science begins from the dogma of empiricism, the belief that the universe is governed by one or more eternally immutable laws that can be discovered and confirmed through repeated experimentation. Remove that presupposition, and no amount of logical effort could sustain the pursuit of science. So dogma isn't the antithesis of reason, it's the starting point of reason, as it is of any intellectual effort.

Dogma has come to be associated with religion because religion is most comfortable with it. Science isn't equipped to defend its presuppositions on its own terms since they exist just prior to the commencement of the process of reason, whereas religion has the ultimate deus ex machina in God. Yet, as Auden points out, every human endeavor acts upon faith, and it seems to me that, whatever those acts are, they're unlikely to transcend the faith in which they're undertaken. And, like science, though not to quite the same extent, philosophy is also often absorbed in the application of reason, giving less attention to what that reason is being applied to. That's a bit of a generalization, but, I think, supportable. It's in this sense that there seems to be a distinction between the thinker and the sage or wise man.

As a reader and, in Gnosis, as a writer, I've always aspired to be a thinker: to seek out, understand, and transform ideas; to uncover the abstract reality underlying what we experience. I've reached what looks like the terminus of that effort, and, rather suddenly, I'm more attracted to the notion of the sage, knowing and living the deep truths of reality, rather than retreating to the refuge of abstraction. In short, I'd like to switch my focus from the agile processes of reason to the static realm of presuppositions. I don't mean to imply that I've become a sage, or that I'll be simply holding forth on what I believe. I'll be describing and exploring my presuppositions, working through them fully and openly to confirm them as my own. I'll be recognizing my dogma. I won't be determining or proclaiming it. By definition, dogma is a starting point to which no process can lead--it cannot be derived or determined; and a tedious proclamation of dogma is unlikely to prove interesting to anyone else.

By doing this, I'd like to change my view of ideas from one that sees them as the grounds for and tools of debate to one that sees them as real or not in their own right. And I'd like to make a similar shift in my stance toward existence. I'd like to move from detached contemplation to immersive participation, to go from thinking about what one might do if the truth could be known to acting as if my beliefs are true. In Kierkegaard's terms, I'd like to be less reasonable and more passionate. We cannot fully exist so long as every action is qualified, so long as we have to allow for the possibility that every belief might be true or false. I'm going to commit to my reality, rather than considering all the realities that might be.

My explorations will focus on four areas (which will appear in this Weblog as categories):

  1. Monism
  2. Self
  3. Time
  4. Ethics




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