Once again, Lewis is able to write an essay about almost any subject-- so far we've gone through excerpts concerning philosophy, ethics, religion, apologetics, and now education. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, as Lewis was a college professor. His writings on such diverse topics expand my concept of C.S. Lewis as a person. I always thought of Lewis as a writer; he was a very unilateral, one-dimensional character in my mind. Now, my perceptions of him are expanding after having seen him delve profoundly into so many topics.
Honestly, I didn't find this essay to be the most interesting, but that is partly because I don't have a particular interest in the philosophy of education (or learning). My roommates last semester were both education majors and had these long discussions about the nature of education, and I just tuned it out. It's not just Lewis; I just find the topic unappealing. Of course, I should have a vested interest in it because, well, I am in college. I did find the essay thought-provoking, however.
Lewis first wrote about the importance of education and vocational training, coming to the resounding conclusion that, "If education is beaten by training, civilization dies." Lewis continued to differentiate learning from education, the former having "no connexion (sic) at all with education." One common denominator of all people who want to learn is their "thirst for knowledge." The reason for universities was to have "institutions for the support and encouragement of men devoted to learning." I like the way Lewis differentiated the two on page 86, "Learning is not education; but it can be used educationally by those who do not propose to pursue learning all their lives."
One interesting point Lewis made is this: "The student is, or ought to be, a young man who is already beginning to follow learning for its own sake, and who attaches himself to an older student, not precisely to be taught, but to pick up what he can." Evidently, Lewis believed that our higher education institutions have lost sight of that goal. He writes that, "Most of you, perhaps, have come here with the idea of completing your education rather than with the idea of entering a society devoted to the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake." I remember my sophomore year of high school, looking at college books for the first time, reading that ivy league schools wanted people who desired to "learn for the sake of learning." It's sad that today people need to be told to be interested in learning. College used to be a privilege, even 50 years ago, but now it seems that everyone needs to go to college to have any career options at all. I hear so many people complaining about school, but they can't well drop out (what would they do to make money?) and as that attitude permeates to our educational institutions, it stifles the spirit of true learning. I see the majority of college students going to university with the goal that Lewis describes as "completing your education" (and I am not necessarily exempt from this category). I see few students coming to college for the "pursuit of knowledge." Lewis' point here is very convicting: "The proper question for a freshman is not 'What will do me most good?' but 'What do I most want to know?' " I think this point cannot be belabored enough today. My mind immediately goes to my friend who is a TREMENDOUS writer and literary critic, but she refuses to major in English, despite her thirst for knowledge in this area. She wants to make a lot of money, so she is an economics major and she hates it!
Then Lewis described the approaches used in education. One is the "composite syllabus," which rests on the assumption that a student "should at least study a bit of everything" (a little bit of philosophy, science, English, etc.). Lewis objects to this approach because it means that instead of you studying what you want to study, "the mind of the committee" would be deciding what they think you should learn, rather than what you actually want to learn. Lewis says, "Do not tell me that you would sooner have a nice composite menu of dishes from half the world drawn up for you." On the other hand, Lewis advocated the idea of a specialist who would help a student "wrestle with nature for yourself." I found this point quite interesting because of my own educational experiences. I spent two years at U of M, where the "core" requirements are essentially nothing. You basically get to take whatever you want. On the other hand, Calvin is the exact opposite. I find myself constantly taking "core" classes. Which is better, giving students a well balances, "liberal arts" education or letting students pick their own classes? I am inclined to think that the whole "liberal arts" education is not that valuable. I do not think that students should take only one subject for all four years of college, but students shouldn't be forced to take subjects about which they don't want to learn. I wonder if C.S. Lewis would think that with Calvin's core requirements, Calvin was actually trying to enforce Lewis' "composite menu." I would much rather take extra theology classes than spend my time in biology, when I know I will not only be miserable in it but not use it nearly as much as I would other subjects.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Plantinga Chapter 1: Longing and Hope
I honestly didn't know what to expect in reading Plantinga's book. I didn't even know what the CRC was until coming to Calvin this year, and I still have yet to step into a CRC church. I have somewhat been dreading what this book might say, but I was actually very surprised to have liked the first chapter. I realize I have nothing to fear; the "Reformed Vision of Faith, Learning, and Living" was not going to kill me. Sometimes I forget how similar we Protestants are to one another theologically. Just because I may consider myself an Arminian (don't judge me), I need to remember that Calvinists aren't out to get me for that.
The chapter first describes "stabs of hopeless joy," which reminded me a lot of the class introduction to C.S. Lewis' life (in fact, Plantinga brings C.S. Lewis in to this discussion on joy a few pages later.) In fact, I found the chapter in general to be very complementary to the C.S. Lewis DCM. I loved the C.S. Lewis quotes in this chapter, especially the one from The Weight of Glory on page 6, "It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday by the sea. We are far too easily pleased." I related a lot to this part of the chapter because I have deep longings in my heart, especially longings for the future, of having a family. This really convicted me, "We may want a good career or a family or a particular kind of life, and these things may come to us. But if they come, they will not fill all our niches because we want more than these things can give." That is such a true statement, one that I need to hear over and over again. As much as I know that statement is logically true, it is hard for me to grasp that concept on a heart-level.
I agree with Plantinga's assertion that indeed, "The truth is that nothing in this earth can finally satisfy us." God made us for Him. Plantinga then continues to say that longing is an ingredient of hope, along with imagination and faith (an example of this threefold combination of hope is shown on page 9 describing Martin Luther King Jr.). The issue of justice is discussed in terms of its extraordinary difficulty. For me, it is hard to "imagine how life must be for others," especially those who differ from me, and thus, I struggle to reconcile my comfortable life with the poverty and pain that surround me. Then, Plantinga writes about shalom-- the "webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight." Hope, then, is a "prognosis" for the human predicament, hope that is centered around Jesus Christ.
I liked what Plantinga had to say, and I love the references to C.S. Lewis. What a perfect combination to study C.S. Lewis with Plantinga, given Plantinga's many references to what we're reading in our DCM section! I really enjoyed the section on longing because I could relate to it deeply. At the same time, however, I found the rest of the material rather dry and dense with what I've heard at Calvin College orientation sessions, etc. None of the rest of the material was anything new or innovative, and it didn't give me any profound food for thought. I did like the chapter overall, however, especially the part on longing and the plentiful Bible verses and footnotes.
The chapter first describes "stabs of hopeless joy," which reminded me a lot of the class introduction to C.S. Lewis' life (in fact, Plantinga brings C.S. Lewis in to this discussion on joy a few pages later.) In fact, I found the chapter in general to be very complementary to the C.S. Lewis DCM. I loved the C.S. Lewis quotes in this chapter, especially the one from The Weight of Glory on page 6, "It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday by the sea. We are far too easily pleased." I related a lot to this part of the chapter because I have deep longings in my heart, especially longings for the future, of having a family. This really convicted me, "We may want a good career or a family or a particular kind of life, and these things may come to us. But if they come, they will not fill all our niches because we want more than these things can give." That is such a true statement, one that I need to hear over and over again. As much as I know that statement is logically true, it is hard for me to grasp that concept on a heart-level.
I agree with Plantinga's assertion that indeed, "The truth is that nothing in this earth can finally satisfy us." God made us for Him. Plantinga then continues to say that longing is an ingredient of hope, along with imagination and faith (an example of this threefold combination of hope is shown on page 9 describing Martin Luther King Jr.). The issue of justice is discussed in terms of its extraordinary difficulty. For me, it is hard to "imagine how life must be for others," especially those who differ from me, and thus, I struggle to reconcile my comfortable life with the poverty and pain that surround me. Then, Plantinga writes about shalom-- the "webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight." Hope, then, is a "prognosis" for the human predicament, hope that is centered around Jesus Christ.
I liked what Plantinga had to say, and I love the references to C.S. Lewis. What a perfect combination to study C.S. Lewis with Plantinga, given Plantinga's many references to what we're reading in our DCM section! I really enjoyed the section on longing because I could relate to it deeply. At the same time, however, I found the rest of the material rather dry and dense with what I've heard at Calvin College orientation sessions, etc. None of the rest of the material was anything new or innovative, and it didn't give me any profound food for thought. I did like the chapter overall, however, especially the part on longing and the plentiful Bible verses and footnotes.
We Have No 'Right to Happiness'
As soon as I read the title of this essay, I was excited to read its contents. Happiness can be one of the most abusive terms in America. I can honestly say that from my experience, I might conclude that people in America think they are entitled to happiness. Entitlement is so pervasive, especially where I grew up-- "I deserve a car, I deserve to go to this school, I deserve an A." This entitlement idea starts from the cradle-- many parents go to extensive lengths to make sure their child gets whatever he or she wants, because they "deserve" it.
Lewis brings up a discussion over a man leaving his wife for another woman. Lewis' acquaintance then spoke these words, "They had a right to happiness." He then analyzed Clare's statement, "She meant that he had not only a legal but a moral right to act as if he did." Thus, her statement reflects belief in a Natural Law. Yet, as Lewis rightly points out, happiness is not promised using any and every means. For instance, if a man was not happy with his wife, most people (I hope) would say that nevertheless, he has no right to kill her. Then the issue is, "What methods of pursuing happiness are either morally permissible by the Law of Nature or should be declared legally permissible by the legislature of a particular nation?" I agree with Lewis' assertion that people do not have the unlimited right to happiness. Also, Clare's use of happiness really is 'sexual happiness' in this sense, but she would never condone alcoholic behavior or violence due to happiness. Although Lewis discusses the "open-minded" people who want to have sex treated "as we treat all our other impulses," Lewis later discovered "that they meant exactly the opposite. They meant that sex was to be treated as no other impulse in our nature has ever been treated by civilized people." As for other impulses, Lewis said that "absolute obedience to your instinct for self-preservation is what we call cowardice." He then gave this interesting example, "It is like having a morality in which stealing fruit is considered wrong-- unless you steal nectarines."
I find this idea very interesting, having grown up in a world full of divorce, adultery, and homosexuality. Our society is departing farther and farther from morality concerning sexuality. I have to admit that at times (too much) I read tabloids, and "til death do us part" lasts about two years in Hollywood. Almost always the reason for divorce is because one of the partners found someone "better," only to get divorced again a few years later. Then, in Christian circles, the debate over homosexuality has gotten intense, even within Christian denominations. Do two same-sex people have the right to live together or even marry because that is what makes them "happy?" Where does it stop? As Lewis says, "It seems to me impossible that the matter should stay there. The fatal principle, once allowed in that department, must sooner or later seep through our whole lives."
The issue I have is, "Where is the line drawn?" I know different attitudes Christians have about staying in marriages. One woman I know was horribly miserable in a bad, abusive relationship for 20 years but she refused to leave him because she was a Christian and stuck to her marriage vows. Then another woman is completely miserable in her marriage but will stay in it because "eternity is a lot longer than just these few years on Earth." Whereas certain Christians might applaud these "courageous" women, I might raise an eyebrow. Wouldn't God also want us to get out of bad situations if possible? If a woman is being abused, should she stay true to her wedding vows? Where is the line? Are some Christians choosing misery when God in fact wants them to be happy? I agree with Lewis, but at the same time, I can see the other extreme, that people can almost deny themselves pleasures in an obscured asceticism when God wants them to enjoy His creation by being liberated from certain trials.
Despite this caution, I find Lewis' point to be important today, especially with his particular concern toward the tendency to desire 'sexual happiness.' At UM, where I went before Calvin, the culture is very postmodern, i.e. "Whatever works for you is fine by me." There is almost no sense of morality, and pleasure can be a god. I know so many people who go from drink to drink, party to party, sexual encounter to sexual encounter, believing that they are entitled to happiness, to pleasure, and most of all, they want it now. This destructive thought pattern is so common in society.
Lewis brings up a discussion over a man leaving his wife for another woman. Lewis' acquaintance then spoke these words, "They had a right to happiness." He then analyzed Clare's statement, "She meant that he had not only a legal but a moral right to act as if he did." Thus, her statement reflects belief in a Natural Law. Yet, as Lewis rightly points out, happiness is not promised using any and every means. For instance, if a man was not happy with his wife, most people (I hope) would say that nevertheless, he has no right to kill her. Then the issue is, "What methods of pursuing happiness are either morally permissible by the Law of Nature or should be declared legally permissible by the legislature of a particular nation?" I agree with Lewis' assertion that people do not have the unlimited right to happiness. Also, Clare's use of happiness really is 'sexual happiness' in this sense, but she would never condone alcoholic behavior or violence due to happiness. Although Lewis discusses the "open-minded" people who want to have sex treated "as we treat all our other impulses," Lewis later discovered "that they meant exactly the opposite. They meant that sex was to be treated as no other impulse in our nature has ever been treated by civilized people." As for other impulses, Lewis said that "absolute obedience to your instinct for self-preservation is what we call cowardice." He then gave this interesting example, "It is like having a morality in which stealing fruit is considered wrong-- unless you steal nectarines."
I find this idea very interesting, having grown up in a world full of divorce, adultery, and homosexuality. Our society is departing farther and farther from morality concerning sexuality. I have to admit that at times (too much) I read tabloids, and "til death do us part" lasts about two years in Hollywood. Almost always the reason for divorce is because one of the partners found someone "better," only to get divorced again a few years later. Then, in Christian circles, the debate over homosexuality has gotten intense, even within Christian denominations. Do two same-sex people have the right to live together or even marry because that is what makes them "happy?" Where does it stop? As Lewis says, "It seems to me impossible that the matter should stay there. The fatal principle, once allowed in that department, must sooner or later seep through our whole lives."
The issue I have is, "Where is the line drawn?" I know different attitudes Christians have about staying in marriages. One woman I know was horribly miserable in a bad, abusive relationship for 20 years but she refused to leave him because she was a Christian and stuck to her marriage vows. Then another woman is completely miserable in her marriage but will stay in it because "eternity is a lot longer than just these few years on Earth." Whereas certain Christians might applaud these "courageous" women, I might raise an eyebrow. Wouldn't God also want us to get out of bad situations if possible? If a woman is being abused, should she stay true to her wedding vows? Where is the line? Are some Christians choosing misery when God in fact wants them to be happy? I agree with Lewis, but at the same time, I can see the other extreme, that people can almost deny themselves pleasures in an obscured asceticism when God wants them to enjoy His creation by being liberated from certain trials.
Despite this caution, I find Lewis' point to be important today, especially with his particular concern toward the tendency to desire 'sexual happiness.' At UM, where I went before Calvin, the culture is very postmodern, i.e. "Whatever works for you is fine by me." There is almost no sense of morality, and pleasure can be a god. I know so many people who go from drink to drink, party to party, sexual encounter to sexual encounter, believing that they are entitled to happiness, to pleasure, and most of all, they want it now. This destructive thought pattern is so common in society.
Meditation in a Toolshed
This is the first C.S. Lewis essay we read for the class, and I was rejuvinated by Lewis' insight on this particular topic. He articulates truths that I've never stopped to ponder, but then when I read what he has to say, I am overcome by the validity of his argument. I never would have used a toolshed, for example, to demonstrate the distinction between "looking along" and "looking at." My mind just never would have gone there. I am very grateful that C.S. Lewis had the ability to point out the unexpected.
Lewis' major point in this essay can be summarized in this statement, "We must, on pain of idiocy, deny from the very outset the idea that looking at is, by its own nature, intrinsically truer or better than looking along. One must look both along and at everything." Lewis comes to this conclusion in a dark toolshed, of all places, after having seen two perspectives of a beam. In one glance, Lewis was "seeing the beam, not seeing things by it." Then, Lewis moved and saw along the beam to the sun and a tree outside. He distinguished the different experiences of "looking along the beam and looking at the beam." Lewis continued to give examples of looking at and along, which I found very helpful. The point is this: "You get one experience of a thing when you look along it and another when you look at it." This statement really hit me in the face, "It has been assumed without discussion that if you want the true account of religion you must go, not to religious people, but to anthropologists."
That hit me so hard because all of my life I have been in secular atmospheres. I grew up in a post-Christian atmosphere, and I spent two years studying religion from a secular perspective at the University of Michigan (it was an infuriating experience and that is why I transferred). Grand Rapids is the first "Christian" area I've ever inhabited. I have been taught to look at religion from the "outside" (Lewis would say along at the beam.) I intuitively believed this approach to be wrong, but I never had any means to disprove it. That is why Lewis' words were so refreshing to me.
Last semester, in my Historical Theology class, my professor asked the question, "Is it possible for someone outside a religious tradition to fully understand that tradition?" Automatically, based on my previous religious studies, I reverberated what I had been told: the true "objective" perspective is looking at religion with a sociologist's eye, standing quite distance from actual practice. Yet, she brought up some of the arguments Lewis made in this essay, and it was a refreshing surprise to me. I now believe that it is impossible to truly understand religion unless you're inside of it. I sympathize enthusiastically with Lewis who claims that, "The people who look at things have had it all their own way; the people who look along things have simply been brow-beaten. It has even come to be taken for granted that the external account of a thing somehow refutes or 'debunks' the account given from inside." From an academic perspective often religion can be seen as "a mass of biological instincts and inherited taboos." Having experienced secular religious academia, I realize how completely true this is! It is disturbing that our finer academic institutions are succumbing to these illogical ideas in teaching religion.
I have countless classmates and relatives who see religion from the "outside..." and since it is so easy to criticize, there is a lot of ugliness to see. Lewis later writes, "But it is perfeclty easy to go on all your life giving explanations of religion, love... and the like, without having been inside any of them. And if you do that, you are simply playing with counters. You go on explaining a thing without knowing what it is." When I hear this, my heart aches for all of the students in my previous Bible classes at Michigan, who heard from an "outsider's" perspective, but they never really knew what it was all about. As we discussed in class, science is needed, of course, but so is experience. In academia, especially concerning religion classes, that needs to be put into practice.
Lewis' major point in this essay can be summarized in this statement, "We must, on pain of idiocy, deny from the very outset the idea that looking at is, by its own nature, intrinsically truer or better than looking along. One must look both along and at everything." Lewis comes to this conclusion in a dark toolshed, of all places, after having seen two perspectives of a beam. In one glance, Lewis was "seeing the beam, not seeing things by it." Then, Lewis moved and saw along the beam to the sun and a tree outside. He distinguished the different experiences of "looking along the beam and looking at the beam." Lewis continued to give examples of looking at and along, which I found very helpful. The point is this: "You get one experience of a thing when you look along it and another when you look at it." This statement really hit me in the face, "It has been assumed without discussion that if you want the true account of religion you must go, not to religious people, but to anthropologists."
That hit me so hard because all of my life I have been in secular atmospheres. I grew up in a post-Christian atmosphere, and I spent two years studying religion from a secular perspective at the University of Michigan (it was an infuriating experience and that is why I transferred). Grand Rapids is the first "Christian" area I've ever inhabited. I have been taught to look at religion from the "outside" (Lewis would say along at the beam.) I intuitively believed this approach to be wrong, but I never had any means to disprove it. That is why Lewis' words were so refreshing to me.
Last semester, in my Historical Theology class, my professor asked the question, "Is it possible for someone outside a religious tradition to fully understand that tradition?" Automatically, based on my previous religious studies, I reverberated what I had been told: the true "objective" perspective is looking at religion with a sociologist's eye, standing quite distance from actual practice. Yet, she brought up some of the arguments Lewis made in this essay, and it was a refreshing surprise to me. I now believe that it is impossible to truly understand religion unless you're inside of it. I sympathize enthusiastically with Lewis who claims that, "The people who look at things have had it all their own way; the people who look along things have simply been brow-beaten. It has even come to be taken for granted that the external account of a thing somehow refutes or 'debunks' the account given from inside." From an academic perspective often religion can be seen as "a mass of biological instincts and inherited taboos." Having experienced secular religious academia, I realize how completely true this is! It is disturbing that our finer academic institutions are succumbing to these illogical ideas in teaching religion.
I have countless classmates and relatives who see religion from the "outside..." and since it is so easy to criticize, there is a lot of ugliness to see. Lewis later writes, "But it is perfeclty easy to go on all your life giving explanations of religion, love... and the like, without having been inside any of them. And if you do that, you are simply playing with counters. You go on explaining a thing without knowing what it is." When I hear this, my heart aches for all of the students in my previous Bible classes at Michigan, who heard from an "outsider's" perspective, but they never really knew what it was all about. As we discussed in class, science is needed, of course, but so is experience. In academia, especially concerning religion classes, that needs to be put into practice.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Bulverism
Assume your opponent is wrong, and then explain his error, and the world will be at your feet. Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall.
-C.S. Lewis in "Bulverism"
I'm not even going to pretend that I know much at all about logical fallacies, philosophy, and the like. Nevertheless, I knew exactly what Lewis was articulating in this essay. Based on reading "Meditation in a Toolshed" and "Bulverism," I have this keen sense that Lewis discerns these nuances or assumptions of discussion and is able to verbalize them in a way people can understand. I was honestly astounded by "Bulverism" and its truth. Lewis' main points convey poignant insight true for 1941 and also our world today.
Lewis pointed out that discussion has taken on an alarming "vice" in recent times. With the ideological conceptions of Marx and Freud, Lewis asks whether all ideas are ideologically tainted. He concludes that no, that is not true: some ideas are tainted and others aren't. Yet, the question begs, "Which ideas are tainted and which aren't?" Here is where Bulverism comes in. Lewis writes that discussion has become about why the other person is wrong rather than using reason to show what conclusion is most sensible. He writes the following, "It is no earthly use saying that those are tainted which agree with the secret wishes of the thinker... You can never come to any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself."
Lewis describes it again in this way: "In other words, you must show that a man is wrong before you start explaining why he is wrong. The modern method [Note: This essay was written in 1941.] is to assume without discussion that he is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became to be so silly."
Personally, these words were very convicting to me. As a psychology major who spends a great deal of time thinking about why people are the way that they are, I fall into Bulverism often. For people with whom I don't agree on certain issues, I am quick to say, "Oh, well, it's because they're like this psychologically that they believe this, so it must not be true." For example, I have a friend who thinks of God as a strict authoritarian figure and I rationalize that because his father was strict and authoritarian, thus my friend conceives of God in this way also. Thus, I discount this idea as wrong, but am I discounting the idea for valid reason, or am I succumbing to Bulverism? On the other hand, I have been discounted myself by others using Bulverism. An example is that my brother thinks that the only reason I am committed to God is because I have gone through some hard times in my life and my faith is a "comfort" to me and I need that comfort (or God) more than most people. Yet, this claim goes past reason into Bulverism. It's not just religion, however. Even in partisan politics, I often get exasperated at the hatred between the Democrats and Republicans. It seems as though some conservatives just don't even listen to liberals and instead just start saying why the "left" is wrong, and vice versa. How is it possible for a discussion like that to amount to anything?
I believe that Bulverism is at work as well on a global scale: as Lewis said himself, "Until Bulverism is crushed, reason can play no effective part in human affairs." That is obviously at work in politics today, but I don't think it's fair to just blame the easily targeted politicians. Bulverism is a problem for everyone, not just presidential candidates. I think everyday people should be exposed to this fallacy. I had never heard of Bulverism before, but it is such a huge problem all over the place. Why is this concept not more popularized? Why are people not aware of it? Even people who aren't philosophy majors, this idea is important to understand because it's everywhere. I really enjoyed this essay, and even though I am not that learned concerning the subject of philosophy, I still benefited greatly from reading about Bulverism.
-C.S. Lewis in "Bulverism"
I'm not even going to pretend that I know much at all about logical fallacies, philosophy, and the like. Nevertheless, I knew exactly what Lewis was articulating in this essay. Based on reading "Meditation in a Toolshed" and "Bulverism," I have this keen sense that Lewis discerns these nuances or assumptions of discussion and is able to verbalize them in a way people can understand. I was honestly astounded by "Bulverism" and its truth. Lewis' main points convey poignant insight true for 1941 and also our world today.
Lewis pointed out that discussion has taken on an alarming "vice" in recent times. With the ideological conceptions of Marx and Freud, Lewis asks whether all ideas are ideologically tainted. He concludes that no, that is not true: some ideas are tainted and others aren't. Yet, the question begs, "Which ideas are tainted and which aren't?" Here is where Bulverism comes in. Lewis writes that discussion has become about why the other person is wrong rather than using reason to show what conclusion is most sensible. He writes the following, "It is no earthly use saying that those are tainted which agree with the secret wishes of the thinker... You can never come to any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself."
Lewis describes it again in this way: "In other words, you must show that a man is wrong before you start explaining why he is wrong. The modern method [Note: This essay was written in 1941.] is to assume without discussion that he is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became to be so silly."
Personally, these words were very convicting to me. As a psychology major who spends a great deal of time thinking about why people are the way that they are, I fall into Bulverism often. For people with whom I don't agree on certain issues, I am quick to say, "Oh, well, it's because they're like this psychologically that they believe this, so it must not be true." For example, I have a friend who thinks of God as a strict authoritarian figure and I rationalize that because his father was strict and authoritarian, thus my friend conceives of God in this way also. Thus, I discount this idea as wrong, but am I discounting the idea for valid reason, or am I succumbing to Bulverism? On the other hand, I have been discounted myself by others using Bulverism. An example is that my brother thinks that the only reason I am committed to God is because I have gone through some hard times in my life and my faith is a "comfort" to me and I need that comfort (or God) more than most people. Yet, this claim goes past reason into Bulverism. It's not just religion, however. Even in partisan politics, I often get exasperated at the hatred between the Democrats and Republicans. It seems as though some conservatives just don't even listen to liberals and instead just start saying why the "left" is wrong, and vice versa. How is it possible for a discussion like that to amount to anything?
I believe that Bulverism is at work as well on a global scale: as Lewis said himself, "Until Bulverism is crushed, reason can play no effective part in human affairs." That is obviously at work in politics today, but I don't think it's fair to just blame the easily targeted politicians. Bulverism is a problem for everyone, not just presidential candidates. I think everyday people should be exposed to this fallacy. I had never heard of Bulverism before, but it is such a huge problem all over the place. Why is this concept not more popularized? Why are people not aware of it? Even people who aren't philosophy majors, this idea is important to understand because it's everywhere. I really enjoyed this essay, and even though I am not that learned concerning the subject of philosophy, I still benefited greatly from reading about Bulverism.
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