Monday, January 19, 2026

The Nietzschean critique goes both ways

The Nietzschean critique of Christian values goes like this: Christians find themselves poor, oppressed, and, basically, losers in this world. Christianity is an attractive worldview for losers because with Christian belief you get forgiveness for your sins and you get the promise of a good afterlife. So if you're miserable in this life, you have the next one to look forward to.
 
In other words, the values of Christians are suspiciously convenient. In the parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, the rich man gets to have his fun in this life but then is tortured in punishment in the next life. It's a power fantasy for the oppressed. Actually, it's the rich and powerful who are losers! They are evil, greedy, selfish, blind to the spiritual truths we have access to, concerned about silly worldly things like material goods. Christians, following the teachings of Jesus, flip the script: power, money, and material happiness are bad while weakness, poverty, and spiritual happiness are good. The rich and powerful are at once happy, but too easily, demonstrating their shallowness and impoverished spirituality and virtue (C.S. Lewis' notes in The Weight of Glory come to mind when he mentions how too easily satisfied we are by boring things like worldly success), and yet at the same time the rich and powerful are secretly miserable because true happiness comes from closeness to God. Christians get to delight in their perceived moral superiority and superior happiness.
 
The critique is an accusation of dishonesty. If Christians were honest about how pathetic their lives are, about how awful it is to be poor and oppressed, then Christians would be miserable. To avoid that misery, Christians choose values that place them on top in some way, allowing them to feel good about themselves when otherwise they would feel bad about themselves.
 
The Rick and Morty moment comes to mind when Hologram Rick gets the opportunity to become real. When Morty says, "I thought you were proud to be a hologram?", Hologram Rick says "That's because I had to be one!"
 
Right. If Christians were to suddenly come into money, says the critique, they would stop lying to themselves, radically change their behavior and language, and would be honest about their true values, because now they have the option to be honest when they didn't before – not without incurring great pain.
 
Problem 1: Not universal
 
The first problem with this critique is that it won't apply to every Christian. There are wealthy, successful Christians who don't shed their "intellectually dishonest values" and adopt their true secular values. Rather, they use their wealth and influence to support churches, missionaries, Christian programs, and Christian politics. Their Christian values are not held out of convenience, but conviction.
 
Problem 2: Undergenerating reasons
 
The second problem with this critique is that it assumes there are no good reasons to hold Christian values, and thus the only explanation for why Christians do hold their values is because it protects their egos and avoids the pain of facing up to difficult truths.
 
But there are good reasons to hold to various Christian values, and these explain why these values are held. Greed is evil. Oppressing others is wrong. The "conqueror's mentality" of the rich and powerful is a stupid mentality. The way the rich and powerful do great evils and get away with it is not something to be admired, but abhorred. The beliefs and behaviors of the rich and powerful are failures of understanding of the goodness and badness of things, failures to maximize flourishing. This leads into Problem 3.
 
Problem 3: The critique goes both ways
 
The rich and powerful don't believe that greed is evil. Or if they do, they don't believe that their particular excess counts as greed. The rich and powerful conveniently rationalize their own greed and entitlement and refusal to help others. If the rich and powerful took a step back and viewed their exploitation of others, their Darwinian cynicism of "the poors", their insatiable greed, their cruel delighting in their domination of others others, their egotistical competitiveness, their psychopathic lack of empathy for those in need, their hateful "f* you I got mine" and "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" attitudes toward those less fortunate, and their lack of contentment with anything less than absurd gluttonous excess, then maybe they would feel something vaguely resembling guilt or a desire to put away the embarrassing ego-driven bullsh* and instead do the right thing and help others. But that doesn't happen. The rich and powerful are just as guilty, if not more so, of arriving at suspiciously convenient beliefs and values that allow them to feel good about themselves when otherwise they would feel bad about themselves were they to look at things more honestly and objectively.
 
The critique is completely right that if your values are suspiciously convenient, then you should introspect and ask yourself why you hold the values you do. If you discover that you hold onto them purely to protect your own ego, then you will have discovered that your values are bullsh*. If you discover that you hold onto them for reasons that have nothing to do with protecting your own ego, but are grounded in facts outside of yourself, then the Nietzschean critique does not apply to you, and someone who tries to apply such a critique against you is making the mistake of undergenerating reasons leading to a mistaken psychoanalysis.
 
This applies to the topic of virtuous despair as well. The idea is that despair can be virtuous if the despair is caused by virtues such as the virtues relating to the refusal to conveniently dismiss or ignore difficult truths. The Nietzschean critique says that for the person who views their despair as virtuous, this is a convenient belief; you want your despair to be virtuous so you can feel good about yourself. If you were given a position of success, your despair would disappear, showing that your despair wasn't caused by your virtue, but by you being a loser.
 
But the first and second responses to the critique apply here as well: This psychoanalysis will prove false for those whose despair sticks even with success, and someone can introspect and see their despair sticking because the despair is attached to permanent factors beyond the self, such as cynicism about human nature, pessimism about the fate of the world, and the fact that the foundation of the world is not good, and so the rampant injustice and tragedy we see in the world is baked into the very fabric of the universe.
 
The third response also applies: It's impossible to participate in this world or to be happy in this world without in some sense accepting this world and celebrating it. But how can someone accept or celebrate this world knowing the injustice and suffering that makes up its bricks and mortar? You are not happy because you are a winner, but because you are too small-minded to see the big picture, because you care more about protecting your own happiness than about believing what's true, and because you have thrown empathy out the window and have refused to acknowledge and empathize with the sheer suffering of our world. When a great deal of empathy leads to despair, it's easily predicted that there will not be a great deal of empathy.
 
Eh. Both psychoanalyses look ridiculous to me, and the truth is in the middle: Some of your despair comes from your virtue, and some of it comes from your failure in life; some of your happiness comes from your failure to contend with difficult truths, and some of your happiness comes from your success. You must introspect, throw away any self-deception, and with brutal self-honesty see for yourself to what extent the Nietzschean critique truly applies to you. How suspiciously convenient are your beliefs?

Five Question Test for the possibility of happiness

1) What do you want?

2) How badly do you want it?

3) Is it possible to stop wanting it?

4) Is it possible to get it?

5) Is it possible to substitute it for something you can get?
Depending on your answers to these questions, happiness will be easy, difficult, or impossible for you. Good to know!

Do children have special theological insights?

Matthew 11:25 (NRSVUE) says: 
At that time Jesus said, “I thank[h] you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants;
Problem 1: Many translations of this verse use the term 'children' instead of infants. But νηπίοις is arguably better translated as 'infants' or 'babies', which is presumably why we find that translation here in NRSVUE. But why would other translations use 'children'? Maybe because while it's hard enough to believe that children have special theological insights, it's even harder to believe that infants have special theological insights.
 
But maybe 'infant' is a metaphor for a new believer? New believers have insights from the Holy Spirit. 
 
Problem 2: Revealed what to infants? What does 'these things' refer to? The text doesn't say, and none of the surrounding verses are helpful.
 
Problem 3:  
 
Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:11 (NRSVUE):
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.
Children are poor at truthseeking because, as Paul says, thinking and reasoning like a child is something to be cast off.

Jesus does not merely say that we ought to be child-like for the sake of innocence, humility, and dependence – or, what I get from Paul's  verse, accepting the Kingdom of God with the kind of giddy joy that children have – but that things have been revealed to children. But as far as I'm aware, this just isn't true. There's no reason to believe that children have special insights or an enhanced sensus divinitatis.

Problem 4
 
Christians will happily say that their views on God changed dramatically from when they were children. Philosopher Josh Rasmussen, for example, says in the beginning of his book How Reason Can Lead to God that he is grateful that his childhood views of God were destroyed, because they were too simple. Many Christians report maturing in their spiritual understanding over time, and don't report having any special insights as a child, only dreadful ignorance.
 
Problem 5

Maybe if there were many reports of angels visiting children, but not adults, and having conversations with them, then there would be evidence of this claim. Or if there were reports of children who knew things they shouldn't be able to know, and when asked how they knew these things they would said "God told me", then that could be evidence. But there are no reports of these kinds.
 
Problem 6:

You could try to give the following kind of argument: Because of the noetic effects of sin, and because children haven't had the time to sin all that much, children are more likely to have a stronger sensus divinitatis and thus believe in God.

I don't know of the empirical research on children's belief in God. For all I know, there are more children than not that don't believe in God, or maybe it's 50/50. That would discredit the idea that children are specially positioned to "know" that God exists.

Even if research showed that children do disproportionately believe in God, there could be naturalistic explanations for this. Children raised by parents who believe in God will disproportionately believe in God not because of an enhanced sensus divinitatis, but because humans are wired to believe testimony, especially testimony in trusted individuals such as your parents.

There is much disbelief in the Christian God in China, Japan, India, southeast Asia, northeastern Europe, and the Middle East. If children in those countries had a tendency to believe in the Christian God despite their social environment, then that would be powerful evidence that yes, God reveals Himself to children. But as far as I know, children in these countries tend to believe what their parents believe, exactly as naturalism predicts.
 
Problem 7:

Another confounding variable could be that children struggle to delineate imaginary figures with real life. So even if humans tend to lose belief in God as they age, this might not be due to the noetic effects of sin but rather to the adult ability to sort imagination from reality, and, more generally, due to the adult ability to examine one's beliefs and scrutinize them.

Saturday, December 6, 2025

The meek shall not inherit the earth

One of the fastest ways to know that Christianity is false is to point out things Jesus said that are undeniably false. Here's an example of something Jesus says that is undeniably false:
 
Matthew 5:5 - "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." (NRSVUE)
 
It is obvious that the meek do not, now, inherit this earth. This seems to be acknowledged in the quote (assuming the translation accurately captures this), as Jesus says the meek will inherit the earth, implying that Jesus is aware that the meek do not, now, in Jesus' time, inherit the earth.
 
So I guess no one can say that this is undeniably false. For all I know, in the future AI will take over and turn all power over to the meek. But I highly doubt this. It's way more likely that the non-meek will control AI forever and use it to dominate others, just as how tyrants have always used technologies to dominate others. And even if AI did somehow wrest control from tech tyrants, AI is more likely to deem the meek too unsure and indecisive to be worthy of that power. Not to mention that there may be many contradicting philosophies within the so-called meeks, so AI couldn't hand over power to the meeks without creating conflict.
 
But maybe inheriting the earth doesn't mean having authority over everyone on earth, but just that you get whatever you want on earth, and AI will grant the meek whatever they want knowing that the meek will want good things. But reading AI into Jesus' teachings here feels so silly and anachronistic.
 
If we interpret Revelation to be about future events yet to pass, there's nothing in there about the meek inheriting the earth. You have Christ's reign of 1,000 years, but that's Christ inheriting the earth. The meek are not shown to have any special place of authority.
 
Also, does 'the meek' include non-believers who are meek? Or do only Christian meek people count?
 
How far into the future are we talking? Isn't it a bit cruel to give people a promise that the meek will inherit the earth as if it's right around the corner, when really it's like thousands and thousands of years from now? Effectively it's like a false promise for that duration. It's strange to give an irrelevant teaching to your immediate audience, and stranger still to give an irrelevant teaching to basically all audiences ever.
 
If it's too far into the future to the point of Christ's second return, then again it's Christ, and all followers of Christ, who inherit the earth in some sense. The meek again have no special status. Christ is certainly not depicted as meek when he's judging earth.
 
Maybe Jesus meant to say that the meek shall inherit the second earth. After this earth is destroyed and a new earth is made, maybe "the meek" (however deemed by God) will somehow, collectively, be... in charge? Of second earth?
 
There are problems with this. First, it's misleading of Jesus to say the meek will inherit the earth knowing that the plain interpretation of that is this earth. He should have specified to prevent confusion.
 
Second, what does it even mean for a group of people to "inherit the earth"? Are the meek politicians in charge of writing laws? The meek in contrast to whom? Is it introverts versus extroverts? Does God hate extroverts? And what if the meek don't want to be leaders or authorities? They are meek, after all. Do they have their personalities forcefully changed?
 
Third, if by 'inherit' we really just mean 'receive' like in the sense of 'inheritance', then it's simply false that the meek shall uniquely inherit eternal life. Both the meek and non-meek will be saved.
 
Maybe Jesus is emphasizing the fact that while the meek are oppressed in this life, they will be glorified in the next when they inherit (receive) life on the second earth. Okay, well, in that case, say that instead. As such, the text doesn't say this.
 
Does the Greek give us any clues as to what Jesus really means (according to Matthew)?
 
According to Greek Bible, it says the following (https://www.greekbible.com/matthew/5/5):
 
"μακάριοι οἱ πραεῖς, ὅτι αὐτοὶ κληρονομήσουσιν τὴν γῆν."
 
Alternative translation: "Happy [are] the meek, because they obtain the land."
 
Funnily enough, no translation is given by Greek Bible for our keyword meek, or πραΰς.
 
According to Wiktionary (https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Special:Search?go=Go&search=%CF%80%CF%81%CE%B1%CE%B0%CF%82&ns0=1), πραΰς means: gentle, mild, amiable, soft, kind, tender, pleasant. Meek sounds like a good translation.
 
So... gentle, mild, amiable, soft, kind, tender, pleasant people obtain land? What? Actually, it's warmongers, genociders, expansionists, imperialists, colonizers, lucky inheritors, and the ultra wealthy who obtain land.
 
Psalm 37:11 says: 
 
"But the meek shall inherit the land
    and delight themselves in abundant prosperity."
 
So we can see where Jesus got it from. Considering all the plain falsehoods contained in Psalm 37, I'm not sure you want to evoke it. Consider 37:32-33:
 
"The wicked watch for the righteous
    and seek to kill them.
 The Lord will not abandon them to their power
    or let them be condemned when they are brought to trial."
 
I'm sorry, how many Christians have been abandoned to anti-Christian powers? How many have been condemned when brought to trial? And if we allow 'righteous' to include non-believers who are nonetheless well-doers, then all the more is the passage false. You might try to once again retreat to the afterlife: The Lord will not abandon the righteous to the power of the unrighteous (in the afterlife), or let them be condemned when they are brought to (the ultimate trial before God). But that requires a convoluted interpretation that the author is deliberately shifting from speaking about earthly things to heavenly things despite not saying as much. Sounds like eisegesis again. I'm not even sure there's any good reason for thinking that the author of the Psalms believes in an ultimate judgment and afterlife. (Then again, if it's really the Holy Spirit who teaches through inspiration, then I could see a Christian saying that the Holy Spirit allows for authors to write teachings that would be false under the author's intended meaning, but are true under a reinterpretation that the Holy Spirit guides believers toward. But Christians often come to opposing interpretations anyway.)
 
Maybe Jesus really said blessed are the geek, prophesying the rise of tech billionaires! (There's gotta be a pastor out there that has made that joke already.)

Monday, December 1, 2025

Inseparable subjectivity - Part 4: Response to inseparable subjectivity

Part 1: https://benstowell.blogspot.com/2025/10/inseparable-subjectivity-part-1-bundle.html

 

Part 2: https://benstowell.blogspot.com/2025/10/inseparable-subjectivity-part-2.html

 

Part 3: https://benstowell.blogspot.com/2025/11/inseparable-subjectivity-part-3.html


Part 4: Response to inseparable subjectivity


So there are two objections, one about the legitimacy of the distinction between Person(2a) and Person(2b) and one about the causal role of Person(2a). We can describe each objection like so:


Objection 1: Inseparable subjectivity

In Part 3 I said:

“Imagine the feeling of being judged. It's a sharp pain, which makes it vivid and easy to imagine. Is it possible to separate the feeling of being judged from the subjectivity? No. The experience is necessarily experiential. There is no pain floating around out there without a person to feel it. Pain is by its essence felt. Likewise, there is no subjectivity floating around out there without other properties characterizing that experience. Subjectivity is by its essence a particular kind of experience. So for a painful feeling, like being judged, you can't have the pain without the subjectivity, and you can't have the subjectivity without the pain. The subjectivity is replete and inseparable.

 

But if a person per se is identical to their subjective properties . . . then any criticism or praise directed to the ugly or admirable aspects of the subjective property are directed to the person per se . . . 

 

If this is right, and if our choices come with a subjective property (the quale of making a choice), then we are our choices, just as we are our pains and pleasures and any other subjective property. If by ‘person’ we mean a collection of subjective properties that all have the same subjectivity in common, then our experiences (including experiences of making choices) are straightforwardly part of us.

 

Far from eliminating free will, this might provide the very resources to build an account of how free will works! Namely, that . . . because a*) our choices are caused by our phenomenal choice, and because b) wherever there is phenomenology there is personhood, therefore c*) our choices are caused by our personhood (i.e., by us). So d) the goodness or badness of the consequences of our choices reflects the goodness or badness of the phenomenal choice that caused them, which just is to reflect the goodness or the badness of the personhood that caused them.”


Objection 2: Pure subjectivity plays a causal role in choices

We first must distinguish between the pure subject as an abstraction versus the subject as a concrete first-person property. Abstract properties are not causal. So it’s trivially true that the abstract self does not play a causal role. But when it comes to praising and blaming persons, we are praising and blaming real, concrete persons, not abstractions. We praise and blame you, not the concept of you. Because persons are concrete and causal, we must, as Objection 1 gets at, treat “pure subjectivity” as concrete and causal (more precisely, there is no such thing as personhood qua “pure subjectivity”; all personhood is concrete). As mentioned in the previous post:

 

“If I have stressful experiences, and those stressful first-person properties cause my body to produce stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, then the ‘pure subjectivity’ of being on the receiving end of experience actually does play a role in causal relationships. Plus, presumably pure experiences cause me to remember having those experiences. So pure subjectivity causes memory. Furthermore, memories reveal patterns that affect future actions. By remembering the pain of touching a hot stove, I avoid touching hot stoves in the future. So by causing memories, not only does pure subjectivity play a causal role, but a causal role with respect to our actions.”

 

“Pure subjectivity” here really refers to concrete first-person properties that are passive in the sense of not being those first-person properties that directly correspond to the making of choices. If the badness of Y reflects the badness of the cause of Y, and if these passive first-person properties play an indirect causal role in bad actions, then the badness of these bad actions caused in part by these passive first-person properties reflects to that degree the badness of these properties, and thus reflects to that degree the badness of the personhood corresponding to these properties. So even “passive” subjectivity is blameworthy and praiseworthy, and thus the personhood that corresponds to this subjectivity is not only praised or blamed, but praised or blamed in a direct, immediate way. That is, because you are your experiences, the goodness and badness of the consequences of your experiences—experiences that are directly or indirectly involved in your making choices with good or bad consequences—directly reflect the goodness or badness of you.


Reply: Insofar ‘you’ picks out something abstract

Can essential properties be abstract? Not only yes, but this must be the case, because identifying essential properties requires abstraction. What gives rise to essential and non-essential properties in the first place is the act of bundling – bundling properties under labels. There’s a bundle of properties referred to by the word ‘mountain’, a different bundle of properties referred to by the word ‘lake’, and so on, for every word. Essential properties are those properties that make or break your inclusion within a label. Where a mountain is located is non-essential; you can have mountains in Colorado, Mexico, Mars; your location won’t get you kicked out of the mountain club. But your size will: too small and you will be called a hill. When does a mountain become a hill? No one knows and it doesn’t really matter. Words are vague. What matters is how people react to what you say. If you point to an average-sized mountain and say, “That’s the biggest hill I’ve ever seen!”, you will be promptly corrected that it’s an average-sized mountain. Conversely, if you point at a hill and call it a tiny mountain, you will be corrected that it’s a hill. A similar conversation could take place about rivers versus creeks, and so on. Often, with a bit of thought, we can abstract out one or more of the make-or-break properties of an object. If something does not produce heat, then whatever it is, we will not consider it to be a lit bonfire, lit furnace, or any lit object. So producing heat is an essential property of lit objects.


So could my essential property be abstract? If everyday objects have abstract essential properties—and indeed if the very notion of an essential property depends on abstracting out the properties that explain why an object falls under a particular label—then I don’t see why not.


When I experience pain, the subjective property identical to me is present. When I experience happiness, the subjective property identical to me is also present. But my pain and my happiness are not the same thing, despite the shared subjectivity. So it cannot be that both properties are identical to me, as then they would be identical to each other, and what could be more certain than that pain and happiness are different? So ‘me’ must pick out a subjective property that my pain and happiness share. To understand the difference between pain and happiness, while acknowledging what they have in common – me – I have no choice but to abstract out the shared property and consider it in the same way I would consider the abstract property producing heat shared by bonfires and furnaces.


But do ‘I’ and ‘me’ in fact pick out such an abstract property? If I were strapped to a device and tortured, day and night, for years and years, my existence would be perfectly, and unfortunately, real to me. Even if no one knew I was there, I would know. Even if I lost the ability to form memories, the “first” moment of pain, repeated again and again, would still be undeniable. Even if I made no choices, even if my pain caused no effects, other than perhaps the morally irrelevant effects of releasing stress hormones in my body, I would still be there, there in the pain. So I cannot deny that there is a sense of the concept of me that does not depend on a) Anyone else’s existence or awareness of me, b) On me making choices, or c) On me having any memories. A person can inspect their own moments of pain and abstract out what unites them. A person can observe the stark contrast between the moments of pain and moments of happiness and see that the same thing unites both. I am not my happiness; I experience happiness. I am not my choices; I experience my choices. I am not my pain; I experience pain. Of course Ben’s pain is essentially felt by Ben, just as this bonfire is essentially producing heat. And just as this bonfire is not equivalent to producing heat, neither is Ben’s pain equivalent to felt by Ben. Just as producing heat is what unites lit objects, felt by Ben is what unites Ben’s experiences. ‘I’ picks out this felt by me property. It sounds like a circular definition: <Ben> is <felt by Ben>. This is exactly what I expect, because my essential self is a phenomenal thing, and phenomenal things can only be defined circularly, because words can only gesture to phenomenal objects. It’s more accurate to say <Ben> is <feeler> (or: <experiencer>) where <feeler> picks out a particular feeler that we label <Ben>. So <Ben> is <feeler> is really the tautology <This feeler> is <this feeler>, and <Ben’s pain> is <felt by Ben> means <Pain felt by this feeler> is <felt by this feeler>. So the essential self is the first-person felt property abstracted out from the entire phenomenal property.


If the essential self is an abstract, non-causal property, then it immediately follows that the self does not stand in causal relations, and so the essential self cannot be attributed to be the cause of anything, even if the non-essential self is the cause of many things. But a) Surely these phenomenal properties are caused to exist (they don’t exist necessarily) and b) Surely these phenomenal properties cause (if we grant mental causation) some things, like choices, or at least bodily processes (like crying, panic attacks, or inducing stress hormones).


Sure, just as there are things that cause bonfires and furnaces. That doesn’t change the fact that producing heat is one of the essential properties of lit bonfires and lit furnaces. This particular heat from this particular bonfire is causal – it causes the surrounding air to heat up. And this particular heat was caused by chemical properties giving rise to combustion, and so on. Likewise, this particular subjective property—a bundle of properties surrounding the state of being sad—causes the body to produce tears. And this particular subjectivity was caused by a  particular brain in such and such state, and so on. Just as this particular heat is inseparable from the other properties of the bonfire, this particular subjectivity is inseparable from other properties of the phenomenal property. To get one property, or bundle of properties, you need the other. To get the particular heat from the bonfire, you need the particular wood, and so on. To get the particular subjectivity, you need the particular feelings of sadness, and so on.


So the inseparability between particular essential and particular non-essential properties is nothing new, a feature of all objects. When identifying the property that is essential of an object, that requires abstracting out the property the lack of which precludes your inclusion under the label being considered. When the label being considered is <(lit) bonfire>, I see that lacking producing heat precludes your inclusion under the label. While producing heat considered in the abstract is an abstract property, that doesn’t mean the heat of this bonfire right here is abstract. Particular heat is concrete, being both caused by various other properties and causing changes in properties outside itself. This concrete, particular heat is inseparable from other concrete particular properties whose existence are co-dependent with the heat.


When the label being considered is a pronoun like ‘I’, ‘me’, ‘you’, and so on, I find myself abstracting out the property of subjectivity – of having a particular, unique, first-person experience. If something possesses a particular subjectivity that we can only gesture toward with the word ‘me’, then that thing is me. If something lacks that particular subjectivity, then that thing is not me.


While this might sound like the contradiction of a “universal particular”, the word ‘particular’ here picks out specificity, just as other abstracted properties refer to something more or less specific. The issue is distinguishing between my subjectivity, which all my phenomenal properties share (and thus is multiply instantiated), and subjectivity in general, which all persons share.


While a specific subjectivity considered in the abstract (i.e. divorced from other phenomenal properties) is an abstract property, that doesn’t mean this particular subjectivity right here is abstract. Particular subjectivity is concrete, being both caused by various other properties and causing changes in properties outside itself (allowing for mental causation). This concrete, particular subjectivity is inseparable from other concrete particular properties whose existence are co-dependent with the subjectivity.


So bundling seems to work differently for ordinary objects versus persons. Different objects can share essential properties. But different persons cannot share essential properties. Only different phenomenal properties that share the same subjectivity can share essential properties.


Reply 2: Insofar ‘you’ picks out something concrete

You might reject the idea that essential properties for particular objects can be abstract. Sure, in general, an object cannot lack producing heat and still be a lit bonfire. But when it comes to this bonfire right here, it’s not enough for this bonfire to produce just any heat, and certainly it can’t be producing the heat of some other object. To be included under the reference this bonfire right here, you must produce this heat. In other words, we have universal, abstract essential properties for abstract objects, and particular, concrete essential properties for concrete objects.


So if I am convinced that my essential self cannot be something abstract, but must be concrete, then I cannot accept that my essential properties are abstract. If it’s true that wherever you find my phenomenal properties, you find me, then it’s true that wherever you find my phenomenal properties pertaining to emotions, pains, joys, sights, rememberings, making choices, and so on, you find me. Because subjectivity is inseparable from other phenomenal properties, and because I am my subjectivity, it follows that I am my phenomenal properties. So I am my happiness, my pain, and so on. This runs into the objection that happiness and pain cannot be the same, but set that aside for now. My essential self must not be abstract, as that would mean my essential self does not stand in causal relations. But surely I was caused to exist, and surely I cause other things to exist (unless we want to parse out meanings of ‘I’ and suggest that ‘I’ is being used to mean one thing in one context and another thing in another context).


Even still, I don’t see how this rescues moral responsibility. The collection of first-person properties that a person has is incidental to factors beyond their control. It’s painfully obvious to me that someone who wins the lottery at 18 years old and spends that money improving themselves and removing sources of stress in their lives will turn out much differently than that same person who doesn’t have access to those privileges and is forced into miserable conditions for years on end. The psychology of the two persons is radically different, and the activities they in fact spend their time on are radically different. So it’s not morally interesting that a person would have one set of phenomenal properties versus another, when we can so easily imagine that set radically changing by a few simple changes to the person’s circumstances that they could not have controlled for.


I will return to this topic of personhood at a later point. I think the bottom line for me for now is that:

 

  1. Pronouns are ambiguous, and I see different bundles of properties picked out by words like ‘you’. The illustration of the sleepwalker shows this. ‘You’ can refer to: You(1a): The private experiences of others about you; You(1b): Your public properties that cause others to have experiences of you (and causes you to have experiences of your public properties); You(2a): Your subjectivity that unites all your phenomenal properties; You(2b): The properties that distinguish one of your phenomenal properties from another (assuming subjectivity is in fact separable).

  2. There are other distinctions we could make: You as in your body; You as in the location of your visual field; You as in some combination of above meanings.

  3. There’s an unmistakable sense of self that remains even when you remove 1a and 1b. Because the properties of 2b cannot be identical to each other (happiness cannot be the same thing as pain), and yet you are identical to yourself, you cannot be 2b either. So that leaves 2a as the essential self. When I engage in the abstraction process for identifying that property the lack of which precludes something’s being referenced by the word ‘me’ (the same abstraction process for identifying essential properties for any object), 2a comes out as the essential property of me. The torture device illustration shows this.

  4. But I’m not sure about the exact relationship between concreteness and abstractness, between those and causality, between essential properties and concreteness, or what abstraction really is and how to tell when it is occurring. Countless other questions are left open, like the nature of mental causation, the nature of causation more broadly, the nature of properties, existence, and facts more broadly, the relationship between properties and time and thus the relationship between mental properties and time, how personhood survives through time, how personhood relates to eternalism versus presentism theories of time, and how this Bundle Theory of the Self and properties relates to substance dualism, neutral monism, or other monisms (versions of physicalism or versions of idealism), or to property dualism and arguments for and against property dualism (or arguments that property dualism entails this or that view about substances). Thus far I've basically assumed a substance nihilist position. There are objections to bundle theory / substance nihilism more broadly that have yet to be addressed as well. There are many alternative views of the self, that the essential self is a non-physical substance, that it is a physical substance, that it is a brain, that it is an animal or organism, that it is a partition of God's necessary mind, that it is a weakly emergent thing via a panpsychist interpretation, that there is no concrete self at all via an epiphenomenalist interpretation, and probably a dozen other views besides.