Sexual Logic

Sexual Logic

Can we give a sexual account of logical operations? That may sound like a quixotic project, though an enticing one—stimulating, seductive. Quixotic is the word: as in, can’t be done. How could logic be sex? Sancho Panza would warn against it; it’s like that knight in Monty Python and the Holy Grail who can’t accept defeat even when his limbs have been cut off (“It’s just a flesh wound”). Sexualizing logic is the holy grail of enlightened biological philosophy, but it looks daunting to put it mildly. At least we should undertake the quest in hopes of rousing adventures, if comical ones. In that spirit, then, I shall imperil myself on the high roads of knightly expedition, offering at least some harmless entertainment along the way. Seriously, though, I am going to propose an identity theory of sex and logic (or something approximating to it). I am going to put sex in the syllogism (note that last syllable). So, hold on to your hats (or other appendages).[1]

Where shall we start (as the actress said to the bishop)? At the endpoint, I suggest: with entailment, logical consequence, deduction. In logic we put together premises in order to derive a conclusion, hoping for validity. We combine premises, let them rub together, and observe the outcome. All men are mortal; Socrates is a man; therefore, Socrates is mortal. The premises have the power to produce the conclusion; they have logical potency. The conclusion resembles the premises, though it isn’t identical to them; it is an intelligible upshot. The premises generate the conclusion; it emerges from their union. They anticipate it and it fulfills their expectations. The OED defines “entailment” thus: “involve (something) as an inevitable part or consequence”, and goes on to cite the legal sense of entailing property over generations (it says nothing of logical entailment specifically). Paraphrasing, we could say that entailment involves a necessary result of other things (it’s close to causation). It is a type of creation, but not from nothing; indeed, the creative origins are already imbued with what results from them. This concept would appear to include both logical entailment, which is allied to deduction, and parental entailment, which is allied to procreation. So: logical consequence is formally like parental consequence. The conclusion of an argument is the baby produced by the parental premises—the two of them combined. The baby produced by a copulating couple is likewise the conclusion of an argument. You can see the baby in the parents and the conclusion in the premises; neither arrives as an unheralded novelty. Yet the result is not reducible to the causes, not identical with them. The idea, then, is that deduction is structurally like procreation; the conceptual format of the one mirrors the conceptual format of the other. The logical notion is built from the genealogical notion; the latter is the precursor to the latter. We think of (mentally represent) entailment by analogy with procreation, trading upon old evolutionary transitions (like scales and feathers). Our concept of entailment is modelled on our concept of procreation: premises mate to give birth to conclusions. There is a kind of genetics of logic (think of it as logical form). The syllogistic form is like the procreative sequence. The cognitive psychology of logical reasoning is akin to the cognitive psychology of procreative reasoning: A and B come together to produce Z. In both cases the outcome follows from the antecedents—temporally and by law. You come to a conclusion by reasoning according to logical laws, and you produce a baby by acting in certain ways (principally copulation) according to biological laws. Logic maps onto sex, conceptually speaking; not by conceptual analysis of the traditional kind but by instantiating the same basic pattern. Logic is a kind of abstract procreation. This connection exists in the basement of the concept: progenitor and progeny, axioms and theorems. In both cases, a certain inevitability applies.[2]

That was entailment; now we must deal with predication. A certain move immediately suggests itself: the copula and copulation. The copula copulates: it joins and fecundates. Logical predication is the counterpart of sexual copulation. It is one thing hooking up with another, fastening itself to another, modifying another. It concatenates and agglomerates. It produces the sentence—the crown jewel of language. It forms the unit that features in logical relations. To predicate is to create a viable unit of meaning—a move in the language game. And this is like a couple coupling, embracing, linking together. Sexual intercourse is a concatenation of bodies. The beast with two backs is made of two sub-beasts, a male and a female. One thing applies itself to the other. Two separate units merge into a higher unit. This is programmed in the genes and hardwired in the brain, in man and animals. We understand the concept of copulation innately and primitively; it provides the basis for understanding the operation of predication (suitably supplemented). Linguistic copulation is structurally analogous to sexual copulation. It is the necessary prelude to procreation and deduction: first copulate, then procreate (or deduce). The elementary predication is a linguistic double-backed beast, ready to generate new offspring (logical entailments). Only predicate (fornicate); then you can and will entail (procreate). The syllogism is pregnant with its conclusion, but the premises have to be assembled first: copulation precedes parturition. Parents give birth to babies; premises give birth to conclusions. A baby is a kind of conclusion to a logical argument. The womb is a syllogistic form waiting for a specific content to be inserted. Thus, predication and deduction have sex written all over them, or into them. In predicating you are copulating; in deducing you are making babies. Sancho Panza is happy with this (though fearful his boss is about go off on an errant errand).

We must now descend to the level of the penis, with the vagina not far behind. These vital organs are about to come into their own logically, to prove their logical worth. Phallocentrically, I will focus on the penis: for we must now address the question of reference, denotation, meaning. Logical arguments need sentences, sentences need words, and words need meaning (reference). How does sex give words meaning? (Sancho trembles.) Isn’t it obvious? By means of erections of course! Do I need to say more? Okay, I will expatiate on the subject of tumescence and sense and reference. Reference is connected to ostension, pointing, bodily orientation. It is reasonable to suppose that reference originated in pointing, and hence in the hand. But the index finger is not the only pointer known to man (and I have men in particular in mind, as well as other male animals). You can point with your elbow and nose and foot. But you can also point with your penis, especially in its erect state. In fact, it makes quite a good pointing instrument: conspicuous, rigid, striking. You can do some effective ostension with that thing. But there is a more fundamental point to be made about penis-pointing: it primarily points at the vagina. That is its primary ostensive target. It even homes in on this target, eventually hooking up with it. It is vagina-oriented, vagina-focused, vagina-dedicated. Moreover, its design is vagina-influenced: it is made to fit the vagina, as the vagina is made to fit it. The two things fit snugly together, as if made for each other (which they are). One mirrors the other; there is an isomorphism between them. You could say: the penis means the vagina—alludes to it, indicates it, refers to it. There is a close internal relation between them, closer than that between the forefinger and its typical referent. The erect penis is thus the clear precursor to linguistic reference—it’s as plain as the nose on your face. For reference is precisely this kind of intimate internal meaningful relation. One could upload the penis (or a mental representation of it) into the linguistic faculty and produce a fair simulacrum of reference as we know it. Erection and denotation go hand in hand. Familiarity with one breeds familiarity with the other. When a name rigidly designates an object the term “rigid” is not inappropriate. It is as if the name has an erection pointed at its bearer! The most primordial type of reference, distributed throughout the animal kingdom, is the penis—pointing rigidly at the relevant part of the female. I mean, that thing really refers—unmistakably, stubbornly. You know exactly what it is pointing at. It is the prototype of the naming relation, the original demonstrative gesture. There could be a tribe that referred onlyby means of the penis. The penis thus refers to the vagina, stands ready to copulate with it, thereby producing lovely babies. Erection, copulation, procreation; reference, predication, deduction: they line up nicely together. (Sancho looks quizzical at this point, but not in fear of his life.) We thus have the outlines of a sexual logic—that holy grail of sexual philosophy. No doubt it will need some tinkering and trouble-shooting, but it looks reasonably robust, and not entirely quixotic.

Boringly, I must append a methodological note. Let’s not caricature sexual logic, please, calling it by names it’s not. It is not intended as an a priori conceptual analysis of entailment, predication, and reference; nor is it offered as an empirical reduction of those notions. Rather, it is intended as a biological theory of the origin of a human faculty: how that faculty came to exist, from what materials, on what basis. It didn’t come from nowhere and it had only antecedent faculties to work with—what the organism was already equipped with. No saltation! Given that sex dominates biology, shaping it from the ground up, we do well to seek sexual precursors and precedents, searching for the biological roots of an adaptation. Logic looks distant from sex at this point in evolutionary and cultural history, but nothing is completely unconnected with sex, even if the connection is quite remote (this is the first law of sexual philosophy). The logical thinker is also a sexual being from head to toe. Sex infiltrates his entire existence. The genitals are never entirely irrelevant. The animal is always cocked to use them, because its mission in life is to procreate. The logical faculty, like the perceptual faculty, is ab initioset up to serve a sexual purpose, and it is natural for it to incorporate sexual elements. It is part of what enables us to reproduce, and it has an architecture that derives ultimately from pre-existing sexual adaptations. Its biological point is sexual and its content incorporates sexual materials. The biological universals of procreation, copulation, and erection are part of its evolutionary heritage. Sexual logic is thus perfectly (bio)logical. Biological adaptations have biological explanations, and sex is central to biological explanations.[3]

[1] Perhaps I should make clear that the logic I am talking about is pre-school logic not textbook logic. It isn’t predicate calculus but folk logic—the basic ability to reason logically. Kids can do it, and dunces, and many animals. It belongs to a basic part of the mind going back eons; I suspect dinosaurs were decent logicians in this sense. It had to arise in them from prior traits, and these traits would have had sexual liaisons.

[2] I have yet to discover an analogue of orgasm in the case of logic, though I suppose we might consider the elation of drawing a conclusion from a well-formed argument. Logic certainly has its addicts and enthusiasts (also perverts: deviant logics). Some people are infatuated with logical symbols. I have never seen any logical pornography, though.

[3] Note that I haven’t discussed specific logical systems; that has not been my concern. My concern has been the logical relation of entailment and the role of premises and conclusions, combined with predication and reference. Logical universals, in effect. It is such universals that can be subsumed under biological categories (more precisely, our grasp of them). The cognitive substructure is sexual in nature. Perhaps if logic were taught with this substructure in mind, it would be met with more enthusiasm from students. Ditto for philosophy in general. Do you think psychology was generally popular before Freud came along? Sexual philosophy is a sure enrollment booster. Sex sells. I could write a popular book on it.

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Philosophy Sexualized

Philosophy Sexualized

The basic fact of biology is reproduction; everything is centered around it. Animals live to reproduce. Reproduction is brought about by means of sex, in nearly all cases. The urge to reproduce is probably the strongest force in biology; it is the gravity of life, only a lot stronger. Prior to reproductive age, the organism is in preparation for that stage—building up to it. This is how genes make it into the next generation. Thus, sex is pivotal and prioritized. By “sex” here I don’t mean the bare copulatory act; I mean the whole process by which reproduction is achieved—courtship, copulation, conception, gestation, birth, and upbringing. We might better call it procreation, but I will stick to “sex” understood in this broad sense—copulation and its accessories. No doubt copulation is the heart and soul of the matter, the sine qua non, but we don’t want to limit ourselves to the isolated act. We are talking about reproduction-by-means-of-sex. And let us remind ourselves that sex is the intermingling of genes by means of physical contact between a male and a female, subject to species differences. Propinquity of bodies and transmission of semen—that kind of thing. It is a physical interaction. Naturally, this has a psychological component in more advanced organisms, so the mind too will be heavily engaged in the sexual act; it will be a desired act requiring detailed knowledge. We might even conjecture that it will be psychologically central—a preoccupation or obsession or compulsion. It will trade on other psychological capacities, generally pre-dating the copulatory act—perceptual, emotional, and cognitive. The organism will be psychologically (and physically) designed to perform the act efficiently and effectively when the time comes. It will have a sexually oriented psyche. It may not always have sexual desires and intentions, but it will have a mind that equips it to perform sexually in the right circumstances. That is what the genes have built it to do, and they have an intense interest in getting things right (their lives depend on it). Sex is what enables the genes to propagate down the generations; we can be sure they have planned it meticulously. Animal life is sexual through and through. This includes us and we are often regarded as the most sexual of species; we are always up for it and strongly invested in it. Our minds and bodies are sex machines (though not mechanical ones). We are set up for sex, body and soul.

What does this have to do with philosophy?[1] Well, our various faculties are designed with sex in mind, so understanding these faculties will require acknowledging their sexual origins and functions. Here I will invert Freud: he took sex to pre-date puberty and to be the source of much of our (apparently) non-sexual motivation, but I think that our non-sexual faculties are designed with later sex in mind. That is, the child is equipped with faculties whose later career will be straightforwardly sexual; these faculties are not themselves instances of sexual desire or need. The penis is not sexual in its pre-pubertal incarnation, but it is obviously there as a preparation for later sexual deployment; you wouldn’t want to have to create one from scratch when puberty comes around (the same goes for the vagina). Nature (the genes) have installed the sex organs ab initio—sex is what they are for—even though they do not yet perform this function at the time of installation. Similarly for the senses: their primary task is to serve the process of reproduction, but they exist before that time arrives. You might think that they serve other vital functions before the sexual function kicks in, such as food gathering; but they really exist in the later service of sex, since eating without procreating spells species extinction. Animals eat so they can fornicate, this being the prime directive. If eating were not essential to fornicating, it would not exist (eating is very time and energy consuming). On the other hand, if the senses were useless when it came to reproduction, the animal would go extinct. Procreation depends on senses that serve the purpose of sexual activity. Thus, the philosophy of perception must accept the fact that the senses are sexually oriented; this is really their entire point, biologically considered. Of course, they can serve other purposes, but their raison d’etre lies in successful reproduction. They are certainly not sexually irrelevant or peripheral. Take the acute olfactory sense of a dog: this is set up primarily for mating, though it also helps with eating. The vision of birds is set up for spotting potential mates, though it can also help with food gathering. Human vision is also geared to identifying mates, though it too has other uses. Given that reproduction is the name of the biological game, animal faculties will be designed so as to enable them to play that game, first and foremost.

The same thing applies to knowledge in general: concupiscence is the point and purpose of the exercise. Knowledge of the whole reproductive cycle is essential in the case of higher organisms, so epistemology should recognize this fact; it is arguably the original home of knowledge. For this to be possible there has to be a general faculty of knowledge acting as a prelude to adult sexual knowledge, but this faculty exists because of its role in procreation. Consciousness is the same: sexual consciousness is basic. You can’t do sex without consciousness, not in the higher animals anyway, so the capacity had better be installed. It is an adaptation designed to facilitate the sexual act, inter alia. One might even say that consciousness is essentially sexual at its core. Language and meaning follow suit: they exist as auxiliaries to sex, tools to get it done. Language is an adaptation designed to promote sex, enabling persuasion and communication. It exists because it makes sex easier: the better you are at it, the more sex you will have. A human possessing a pathetically primitive language will not get far in the sexual arena, which is why all human languages are sophisticated not primitive (and no peacocks have dowdy tails). The will is also sexually engaged in obvious ways: animals act so as to further their sexual goals, planning and conniving, cavorting and fighting. They can’t afford to laze around if they want their genes to be passed on. Procreative acts are front and center. The philosophy of action therefore needs to advert to sex (with some eating on the side). It isn’t all raising your arm and closing the door. What about philosophy of mathematics? Surely, number came to be important because of counting offspring, not merely random objects, so arithmetic has its origin in the reproductive process—the family. Aesthetics also connects closely with sex, because we use our aesthetic sense to assess potential mates; it goes beyond that but it is originally drawn from that well. Questions of identity also feature in procreative contexts: animals need to keep track of their offspring and mates, so as not to confuse them with others. The topic of personal identity arises because of its importance to family relations, including sexual partners. Many animals are remarkably good at reidentifying their mates after long separation, and they can distinguish their offspring from pretenders. Ethics is also about what we owe to others, particular others, and who is to get what. Sexual morality, for its part, is commonly regarded as central to morality. So, ethics must recognize sex in its cogitations, as all world religions do. The general point is that our basic mental faculties are bound up with sex in one way or another. Our very conceptual scheme (our metaphysics) has sexual elements: who belongs to what species, the organic and inorganic, the nature of causation and creation, mind and body, natural laws, existence, change, and so on. We might almost say that sex is lurking in the unconscious of philosophy, shyly remaining under cover. Philosophy, as commonly practiced, ostentatiously avoids the topic of sex, except in limited X-rated areas (like the philosophy of sex). Even the philosophy of space and time is covertly sexual: they have to be carefully negotiated in the project of sexual reproduction. Because sex is so central to life as we know it, it crops up everywhere. It is the susurrating background. Sex is the reason we are as we are (and similarly for other species), so it is central to human nature; philosophy takes its rise from human nature, especially as it relates to other things. Biology brings the organism and the world together (hence the notion of environment), and so does philosophy. Organisms are essentially sexual entities, so biology treats them that way; philosophy should do the same. I don’t mean explicitly and all the time; I mean as a background assumption. The proper meta-philosophy is sexual philosophy (this doesn’t exclude other meta-philosophies). It is a matter of fundamental attitude and orientation. The linguistic philosopher says “Pay attention to the language”; the biological philosopher says “Pay attention to the biology”. The main event in language is use; the main event in living is sex (broadly construed). The speech act and the copulatory act as philosophical touchstones. To be is to be the value of a sexual variable (nice slogan).[2]

[1] The present paper follows on from some earlier papers of mine: “Amatory Knowledge”, “Sex and Philosophy”, “Common Knowledge and Sex”, “The Sexual Gene”.

[2] Humans tend to lie down for sex, which is unknown in the animal kingdom. This is particularly odd because we are upright animals. Does this make us paradoxical creatures? (Discuss.)

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The Sexual Gene

The Sexual Gene

We know the gene is a selfish little thing, but it is also a sexual little thing. Gene survival depends on a gene’s ability to navigate sexual reproduction: the better it is at having sex (conducing to it), the more likely it is to survive into the future, possibly for millions of years. This means finding mates and successfully copulating. If a gene is no good at sex, it disappears from the gene pool. Altruistic genes don’t survive long, and neither do sexually inept ones. More exactly, a given gene must be part of a gene complex whose housing organism performs well on the sexual stage. Genes must be sexual artists and athletes (also scientists). They can’t waste time on other pursuits. They reproduce themselves by means of sex, i.e., genetic mixing across binary sexes. Moreover, genes are sexual predators, as they are food predators: they prey on members of the opposite sex for copulation, as they prey on other creatures for food. Indeed, they predate for food so that they can predate for sex. That is, they seek sex at every opportunity and they are not too fussy about how they get it. Altruistic copulation is not in their playbook. Their only objection to forced copulation is that the target organism might put up a fight. They are amoral sexual predators. They don’t usually resort to violence, though they may, preferring instead seduction and persuasion (bower birds, for example). Alternatively, we may describe genes as sexual parasites: they use others for their sexual purposes without killing them. Either way they are intent on sexual exploitation (the genes not the animals).

Sexual reproduction is what drives phenotypic variation, and hence speciation. Without sex reproduction is mere copying (with some errors thrown in), i.e., biological stasis. So, sex is what leads to evolutionary progress, its main engine; the genes are thus progressive in their sexuality. If the genes were not sexual, we would not exist. Genes indifferent to mating would be genes destined for extinction. We have sexual genes to thank for what makes us human—we should thank God that our ancestors’ genes were sexual predators. Sex is woven into animal nature (also plants) down to strands of DNA. It is the driving force of the natural world. Animals are sex machines right down to their simple genetic components. There is nothing offensive or discreditable about this; it is just the way evolution works. When Darwin talked about artificial selection and natural selection, he was talking about sex: human breeding simply is intentionally guided copulation, and natural selection is mediated by the same thing. There is no need for sex under the Creationist model—it isn’t necessary for species differentiation—but as things are, it is essential for biodiversity. The sexual gene is necessary for species distinctions.

None of this is to say that animal-level sex (including human) should be given free rein. It isn’t even to say that sex is morally good or unobjectionable. The genes are selfish but we need not (and should not) copy them—selfishness is bad. Similarly, the sex mania of genes is no excuse for sex mania in humans. On the contrary, the very power of the genes in shaping our motivations gives us reason to suppress, sublimate, and regulate our sex lives. It is the same for our gustatory lives. The sex drive is too strong to be given free rein. The genes look after themselves not their vehicles (i.e., us). But we are not their slaves; we can rebel against them. The genes are selfish and sexually predatory, but that is no reason for us to be—and we are not. We don’t get our morality from our genes. The point I have wanted to make is that genes are not only selfish but also rigidly sexual: everything they do is geared to sex. From their point of view, the genitals are paramount; the rest of the body is a device for getting the genitals into the right place at the right time. The survival of the fittest is the survival of the fittest genitals. In fact, we could aptly conceive the whole body as just genital infrastructure, because the genitals are the whole point—they are what the animal has sex with. We therefore need a sex-centered genetics, as we need a self-centered genetics. Selfish and sexual. We have the greedy gene and the horny gene (metaphorically speaking). The gene that propagates best is the gene that has the most sex, i.e., lives in the organism that has the most offspring as a result of copulation. As James Brown sang, “Stay on the scene, like a sex machine”.[1]

[1] I have liberally employed personification talk here, as is commonly done. It is easy to translate it into non-homuncular talk, though more cumbersome. See Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene, if necessary. From a gene’s-eye point of view, life is all sex and selfishness; not so from a human point of view (there it’s all money and status, which don’t interest genes).

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Sex and Philosophy

Sex and Philosophy

Is philosophy a sexy subject? That is my question, but I won’t get to it for a while. First, we must talk about biology and psychology. It is a little-known fact that Charles Darwin put sex at the heart of biology. I don’t mean people didn’t know sex existed before Darwin, in man and animals and even plants. I mean that he made sex the main engine of evolutionary change not just something that organisms do in order to reproduce. For sex (genetic mixing) is what mainly leads to individual variation and hence the variety of species. The origin of species lies in the facts of sexual life, particularly genetic and phenotypic variation. Breeds result from human intervention in patterns of copulation, thus producing variations; mutation and natural selection do the same. Copulation between the sexes is what leads to most of the variation we see in nature; it thus explains the emergence of new species. Creationism postulates asexual generation, presupposing variation ab initio. Sex is what produces the diversity traditionally attributed to God. We might say that sex is God, or plays the biological role of God. It lies at the center of the whole process of speciation. It is also what animals seek to do as a matter of instinct—what motivates them. They live to reproduce, and sex is the mechanism of reproduction. In addition, Darwin spotted sexual selection—selection based on sexual attractiveness. Modern evolutionary biology is built around the idea that genes are the agents of sexual behavior: they program organisms to act sexually and thus reproduce their kind. It is probably the most powerful biological force in existence, even stronger than the urge for food. Biology is the science of sex, in effect. It is the science of reproduction, and reproduction is overwhelmingly sexual. We may not know much about how it started, or why it is so prevalent, but we do know it is ubiquitous and undeniable—a fact of life on Earth.

It is a well-known fact Freud introduced sex into the heart of psychology. I do not need to argue this. No doubt he was influenced by Darwin; he put sex at the epicenter of the human psyche. It is a question how much of his theoretical structure holds up, but he was surely right to stress the ubiquity of sex in human life. Child development, libido, the id, the superego, repression, neurosis, dreams, jokes—all were interpreted sexually. Putting aside the details of his theories, I think we can say that Freud taught us that sex is an important fact of human life, seeping into apparently remote corners, exercising a considerable hold on human emotion and behavior. The human mind is a sexual mind. A lot of human motivation has a sexual origin (sublimation etc.). Instead of seeing human psychology as consisting of a bunch of asexual “impressions” and “ideas”, it consists rather of erotic drives and their effects on behavior. Sex is pervasive, potent, protean, and paradigmatic, according to Freud. The science of psychology should thus recognize the centrality and scope of sex in the human psyche.

Meanwhile sex was finding its way into art and literature. Again, I need not dilate. Painting and fiction turned blue, so to speak; sex was everywhere, causing eruptions and scandals. It wasn’t left in the shadows but visible in human existence. We might say that during this time period sex came out of the closet and from under the sheets. Sex was suddenly everywhere. Then we had the sexual revolution of the 1960s and the rise of pornography and frank discussion of the subject. We are now awash in sex, practically and theoretically. It’s everywhere you look. But not in philosophy: philosophy is a humanistic discipline, one of the humanities, though also allied with the sciences of biology and psychology, but it is not sexually saturated, or even much tinged. Darwin’s sexual revolution, aided and abetted by later revolutions, has not led to the sexualization of philosophy: it’s still as dry and asexual as dust. What are we to make of this? You might say I am exaggerating: philosophy does deal with sex and love—there are whole courses devoted to it. True, I reply, and symptomatic of the age, but it doesn’t compare with the other subjects I have mentioned; it is a small part of the total subject. Philosophy as a whole has not undergone a sexual revolution analogous to Darwin’s and Freud’s (the good part of it). We certainly don’t think that sex lies at the beating heart of philosophy, its foundation, its subject matter. Philosophy is more like physics and mathematics in this respect, and they are not humanistic at all (not about the human being). Some may say this shows the folly and frivolity of contemporary academic philosophy; it needs to get with the program and get busy with the topic of sex. Didn’t Nietzsche already do some of that? What about Sartre? We need to get physical, philosophically. Others may contend that this is just the way philosophy is and has to be—it is like physics and mathematics. Aridity is its natural condition. Let’s not vulgarize and popularize it. Not everything is about sex. Should there be an “erotic turn” or should philosophy remain sexually innocent? Both options are interesting and would tell us something about the nature of philosophy.

There is a third option: philosophy as it now exists is sexier than it looks; we just have to look more closely. The conceptual scheme of philosophy might be more colored by sex than we recognize. Here I must cite myself: the concept of knowledge is more sexually charged than people have recognized.[1] Sexual knowledge is the paradigm of knowledge. Sexual ethics is a big part of ethics in general. Action theory could easily turn to the study of sexual action; this subject is avoided largely because of prudishness not irrelevance. Couldn’t there be an erotic logic to be set beside deontic logic, erotetic logic, and epistemic logic? If you sexually desire an object, do you sexually desire all the parts of that object? If you sexually desire that p and you sexually desire that q, do you sexually desire that p and q? Is it logically possible to sexually desire oneself? If you sexually desire something, do you sexually desire that desire? Also, philosophy of mind: can we imagine an alien orgasm? Is lust a disposition or an occurrent phenomenon? Metaphysics: can there be disembodied sexual sensation? Are there panpsychist orgasmic particles? Are there any phallic symbols lurking in philosophy–the assertion sign, the arrow symbol for entailment, the Scheffer stroke? What is all the talk of rigid and flaccid designation, satisfaction by all sequences, the saturation of a function by an argument? What about the very idea of a “proposition”? Metaphors, to be sure, but metaphors can signal underlying conceptions. Maybe if we started to think in explicitly sexual terms, philosophy would reveal itself as more sexually permeated than we supposed. For it does seem odd that it should buck the trend I have outlined: why hasn’t it gone the sexual route? Why has this never even been attempted? Maybe if there were more women in the subject, sex would be more natural as a topic. There is obviously a taboo against sexualizing philosophy, so it might be a good idea to remove this taboo and let it all hang out. It has been too long in the cloister. The philosophy of sex was a move in the right direction, but we really need the sex of philosophy.[2]

[1] See my “Amatory Knowledge” and “Common Knowledge and Sex”.

[2] I expect that some people will be mightily offended by this idea, while others will gleefully jump on the bandwagon. I have tried to steer a judicious middle course. I admit that I find the whole idea quite amusing. We might call it “a puzzle about philosophy”—why isn’t it more sexual? Compare botany: the subject is replete with sexual concepts, though it is not exactly sexual. Physics and mathematics may be more sexually tinged than we naively suppose, so pervasive is sexual imagery. How can anything not be sexual for beings like us? I take this to be an insight of Freud’s. Cognitive science should recognize that the human brain is also subject to erotic science. There is seepage between modules, and the sexual module has its own peculiar potency. There is a very good Star Trek episode in which Spock’s vaunted rationality is severely challenged by the onset of the Vulcan mating season; his mind seethes with disruptive sex. We humans never have a non-sexual layoff period, so sex is on our mind constantly, especially when young(ish). It is amazing our philosophy is as asexual as it (apparently) is. It should be full of it.

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Common Knowledge and Sex

Common Knowledge and Sex

There is knowledge and there is common knowledge. Common knowledge is the situation in which A knows that B knows and B knows that A knows that B knows, etc. It is a fairly complex form of knowledge. Where does it come from? In what circumstances did it first arise? What is the paradigm case of it? Presumably it is not in economic contexts, such as it being common knowledge that money has value. I think sex is a good candidate: the proximity is such that it is common knowledge between the participants that they are having sex together. How could lovers miss it? The fact in question is evident to both parties, as is the knowledge of that fact possessed by both. It is obvious to both that the other knows what is happening. This is necessary for sexual coordination: you can’t coordinate your actions unless you know that the other knows (I leave it to the reader to fill in the details). Once you have the concept of knowledge it is a short step to the concept of common knowledge in a sexual dyad. It also becomes part of the nature of the sex act—this knowing that the other knows and he or she knowing that. If knowledge is inevitable in a sexual situation, then common knowledge is also inevitable in that situation. The fact impinges on the sensorium of both parties, but so does the knowledge of that fact—he or she knows that the other knows what is afoot. The other’s knowledge impinges on me, as my knowledge impinges on the other. Each phase of the unfolding act is accompanied by such common knowledge: I know that you know that I know that you know, and so on. So, this special type of knowledge arises naturally from the sexual nexus. The hypothesis is that the possibility of such knowledge arose from the sexual special case, it being so salient and integral to that act. Sexual epistemology is thus at the root of the general notion of common knowledge. It is the paradigm case and springboard. It probably arose in animal populations millions of years ago as a result of successful copulation. It is a useful biological adaptation. It then became a general phenomenon of group psychology. In the beginning was the deed. Knowledge arose in that context[1] and so did knowledge of knowledge.

[1] See my “Amatory Knowledge”. We could call this view “sexual foundationalism” (as opposed to sensory foundationalism). It is a kind of Freudian epistemology. If Freud were right, we could predict repression of the truth of this view: we don’t like to accept that our prized knowledge derives, ontogenetically and phylogenetically, from sexual roots. The oral, anal, genital, and cerebral phases (centered on the head).

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Susan Haack Etc.

Susan Haack Etc.

I recently learned that Susan Haack has just died. During my six years in the University of Miami philosophy department I never once set eyes on her. Nor did I have any communication with her. I did email her when I arrived to suggest a meeting, but got no reply. I was told she was alienated from the department and had as little to do with it as possible; the rupture occurred before I arrived and the nature of the dispute was never made clear to me. That was a shame as I would have been happy to get to know her. As it happens, I had met her in England years earlier when she gave a paper to my department there, and she had written to me when I was at Rutgers apropos of a review I’d written (warmly not critically). Not a good situation (I cast no aspersions). Anyway, this got me thinking: the department has lost most of its senior members since I was there—me, her, Risto Hilpenen, Harvey Siegel, and Ed Erwin (who was ostracized during his last years there, according to him). No one senior of comparable stature has been brought in to replace us. The only senior member that remains is Michael Slote, now 85 (according to Google). The people that remain are (what shall I say?) not exactly household names. The department wasn’t bad when I was there, though not top tier; now it’s…well, it is what it is. Is it dying? That remains to be seen, but it is hard to see how it can be very attractive to prospective graduate students. I don’t think there was any necessity about this, but my departure can’t have helped. It is not a department I would have joined from my previous post at Rutgers. I will leave my opinion of the philosophical abilities of the people now there unspoken. Suffice it to say that the label “star” does not spring to mind. What I will say is that the dearth of senior people does not bode well for the department. I see no solution to the problem and the prospects do not look good. There was already a problem about recruiting able graduate students in the good old days (there are many better places to go) and the situation cannot have improved. I don’t think things would have reached this point had I not left (unwillingly). Actions have consequences. I have no contact with anyone now in the UM philosophy department (their decision not mine), despite living only a mile away, and I am banned from the campus (no reason given). All round, it seems like a bad state of affairs, and entirely avoidable.

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Four Strong Women

Four Strong Women

We have recently heard four strong women speaking their truth: Kristi Noem, Karoline Leavitt, Pam Bondi, and Jeanine Pirro. And it has been quite a spectacle: angry, self-righteous, denunciatory, and defamatory. They have confidently proclaimed what they evidently believe—the trouble is that it has been false, illogical, unjust, and vicious. Yet they fit today’s feminist rhetoric: they won’t be bullied and intimidated by men (or other women) and they stand up for what they believe. They think they have right on their side, or they appear to. But they are dangerous, stupid, and absurd (especially the last). They give the lie to the myth that women are inherently superior to men, morally and otherwise. They particularly love to defame others and cry out for draconian punishment. If you came across these four women before meeting any others, you would suppose that all women are monsters. Of course, they are not the only ones, and they exist on the political left too (though less repellently). I sense in sensible female commentators (Ana Navarro, Abby Phillip, and others) some embarrassment about the behavior of their “sisters”, but actually it is fairly predictable: they are right-wing zealots protected by the mantras of contemporary feminism. There is no such thing as “my truth”, and “strength” is not a virtue absent judgement and kindness. These cliches have become masks for ruthless self-promotion and violence against others. They are also eminently corruptible. They do what they are told, whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter. They have zero integrity and even less humanity. But they are just the contemporary world writ large and ugly; there are similar types everywhere, including in universities (I know some of them). It is hard to avoid the conclusion that feminism has become morally bankrupt and intellectually incompetent. It has become political in the worst sense.

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Amatory Knowledge

Amatory Knowledge

We have heard a lot about different kinds of knowledge in epistemology courses; I want to add a new kind of knowledge and explore its contours and characteristics. I call it “amatory knowledge”, which belongs to the family including carnal knowledge, erotic knowledge, sexual knowledge, sensual knowledge, libidinal knowledge, romantic knowledge, and marital knowledge. It is the kind we associate with normal adult marriage-type relationships, or what can lead up to them. It involves knowledge of another person’s body, particularly the so-called erogenous zones, centering on the genitals. It includes many components: where, how, sensations, actions, foreplay, and aftermath. Sexual intercourse is the typical core of it. This kind of knowledge is acquired by having certain experiences of an individual of an intimate nature, not usually had by people in general. The five senses are crucially implicated—sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste. You know what I am talking about. I am especially concerned with the cognitive aspect of these kinds of relationship, not the affective and conative; not the drive but the steering, so to speak. It comprises knowledge of another person from a sexual point of view—knowing him or her sexually. And the question I am interested in is how this relates to knowledge in general—that is, general epistemology. How is amatory knowledge related to other types of knowledge, e.g., scientific knowledge?

Let’s start with my preferred definition of knowledge: does amatory knowledge fit this definition?[1] The definition is captured in a formula or slogan, which needs careful unpacking: knowledge consists in the world impinging on the soul. The world is just existing reality, including souls themselves; the soul is the mind or self or person or conscious subject or ego. The soul is the human being considered holistically and centrally—the I I care most about. Myself most deeply. But what is this impingement business—what is it for the world to impinge on the soul? The Concise OED gives us simply “have an effect, come into contact, encroach”. The Shorter OED expands on this slightly: “fasten or fix on forcibly, strike, come into forcible contact, collide”. Here the idea of force comes into play, accentuating the coercive aspect of the concept—to be impinged on is not to choose but to be compelled. Roget’s Thesaurus helpfully offers as synonyms, “disturb, encroach, intrude, invade, influence, make inroads, pry, touch, violate”. These strike the right note: to impinge on is to affect or impact from outside, invasively, intrusively, effecting a change within, possibly violating. To impinge on the soul the world must break down its boundaries, perturb it, alter it, shake it up, spear it, transform it. A bullet or arrow impinges on a target. A cold wind impinges on flesh. One person may impinge on another, for good or ill. The picture is that the soul is inherently empty, sealed off, untouched, innocent—and then the world imposes its imprint on it, shaping it, informing it. That is what knowledge essentially is, according to the definition. The theory is in the spirit of the causal theory of knowledge, though more generalized (it has nothing to do with physicalism or naturalism). It is intended to capture the way knowledge features in our lives as conscious subjects—what knowledge means to us. Then, we can ask how amatory knowledge fits this general conception. And the answer is obvious: like a glove. The body and soul of the other impinges big-time on my body and soul. Amatory knowledge is the effect of this strong impingement. The world of the other intrudes or encroaches on my world, the objective on the subjective: the body, obviously, but also the soul. And it reaches my soul, because it is experienced as deeply affecting—touching one to the core (even casual sex isn’t “casual”). The impingement is strong and deep, forcible, insistent, culminating in orgasm (itself a type of knowledge). The knowledge involved in this kind of relationship leaves a powerful mark; it can transform a person. People can change identity completely as a result. The knowledge isn’t like knowing it’s raining or who wrote Moby Dick. It is profound.

We should note that animals also have this kind of knowledge; indeed, it is paramount in the life of most animals. They need to know who or what to mate with, how to do it, and what to do afterwards. This kind of knowledge clearly goes back millions of years. Our sexual knowledge (in the broad sense) no doubt evolved from it. Children don’t have it, save potentially, but every normal adult human has it, with any luck. It is vital to species survival (as well as human happiness). It exists deep inside us. We are sexual savants, amatory experts. We had better be. It is closely connected to pleasure, which should not surprise us. Freud postulated the oral, anal, and genital phases, each with its own characteristic type of pleasure; each also with its characteristic type of knowledge. The erotic is commingled with the epistemic. As the appetitive self develops and grows, so does the epistemic self. A steady state is reached, at which the organism is said to be mature, equipped with amatory know-how and know-that. The soul is ready to be impinged upon by the world in such a way as to produce knowledge of a certain sort (“This is a potential mate”). Such knowledge is primordial and primal. Freud and Piaget join hands in their theories of psychological development. There is a whole package. And all the senses are in on it: vision, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. All are activated in the sexual act and its antecedents. The soul is well and truly impinged upon (happily for the most part, though sometimes not). Kissing is only the beginning of this epistemological expedition. Mutual body and soul impingement is the sought-after state, as if the barriers to the soul are breached.

A natural question arises: is all knowledge tacitly amatory? Do we see the general aptness of my definitional formula because we recognize the affinity of all knowledge with the amatory kind? Is all epistemology silently sexualized? Is the desire for knowledge an outgrowth of the desire for sex and its accompanying amatory knowledge? Such an idea is not unheard of—indeed, it is something of a cliché (Freud again). First, sexual knowledge; then, and derivatively, scientific knowledge. That’s where the underlying cognitive equipment originates. Not the science of sex but the sex of science. The imagination in general may owe its origins to the sexual imagination, and knowledge in general may owe its origins to sexual knowledge. The concept of knowledge gets its initial grip in coping with the facts of copulation, pair bonding, and cohabitation; and then it extends out to the rest of the world. We tacitly conceive the known world as a quasi-sexual world—the world of courtship and copulation. Our theories are thus like our babies. Our scientific partners are like our romantic partners. Our learned societies are like our families. The heady experience of romantic love prefigures our intellectual adventures and triumphs. Amatory knowledge is the paradigm case of knowledge—of soul-world impingement—and may be its progenitor. We open up our soul to the world (we can’t help it) because we opened it up to our mates. Sexual experience enables sexual knowledge and experience in general enables knowledge in general. This is a kind of sexual empiricism; and it is notable that a priori knowledge is the least sensuous of our knowledge systems (the most endogenous). According to this view, all knowledge derives fundamentally from sexual experience—putting it very roughly. It is like having sex with the world (think of the excited explorer). Not literally, but metaphorically; we have extended this way of thinking from its original home to the far reaches of knowledge. This explains why we value knowledge so highly: for we value amatory relations highly (the genes like it that way). Epistemology is thus the study of sex-based knowledge ultimately. Without sex our epistemology would be a very different animal (a pale simulacrum). Sex gives it its oomph.

As if I haven’t smashed enough taboos and shocked many an epistemological vicar, I must put in a word about masturbation, that much misunderstood form of education. Doesn’t masturbation produce (and require) sexual knowledge, albeit of a primitive and solitary kind? It calls upon knowledge of one’s own body sexually not someone else’s. How does that fit the impingent theory? Quite handily, in fact: it is your proprietary chunk of the physical world impinging on your own soul. Masturbatory knowledge is your own body impinging on your soul—self-impingement. You know that masturbation leads to orgasm precisely because your own body has told you so—inserted this piece of knowledge into you. It has made contact with your mind in order to inform it of something. The basic mechanism is the same as in partnered sex, or in sensing the environment. So, strictly, you don’t need interpersonal sex in order to get knowledge off the ground; self-impingement is possible solo.

Some may find the amatory theory implausible—a bit of a stretch, to put it mildly. Surely, there is no necessity connecting knowledge in general with this particular branch of knowledge—couldn’t we have knowledge of physics and be completely devoid of libido? But I am not claiming logical necessity, only biological probability. Probably, our concept of knowledge evolved in the way described (it wasn’t knowledge of physics ab initio); this is a promising hypothesis. The concept had to come from somewhere, and not all in one go (concepts evolve too). The naturalness of the impingement theory for amatory knowledge suggests that it is a prime candidate for that status, with other knowledge piggybacking on it. Let’s see if it can be refuted. Also, we can always fall back on a dual level theory of knowledge—distinguishing primary knowledge from secondary knowledge.[2] The primary types of knowledge include the sexual kind and those types very similar to it; the secondary types depart from the paradigm and earn the label only by loose analogy (e.g., knowledge of the future or speculative science). Knowledge is by definition the impingement of the world on the soul, and sexual knowledge fits that definition to a tee, so it is the basic case of knowledge—that to which all knowledge aspires. Let’s not reject the theory for distinguishing paradigmatic cases from peripheral cases. Sex, surely, is a central fact of biological nature (Freud wasn’t wrong about that and nor was Darwin); we are just catching up with them in our epistemology (hitherto far too mired in religious conceptions—knowledge is what God has a lot of). It is not too far-fetched to connect knowledge-as-a-biological-phenomenon with sex-as-a-biological-phenomenon. Sex is what makes the biological world go round—that’s why it is so prevalent—and knowledge feeds off that. Knowledge is the biological product that results from the world impinging on the organism in its mental compartment—as if world and soul were copulating. Knowledge formation is a kind of cosmic copulation. The world is the male and the soul is the female, in effect. At any rate, this is an agreeable image to ponder.[3]

[1] See my “A New Theory of Knowledge”.

[2] See my “Perceptual Knowledge” and “Non-Perceptual Knowledge”.

[3] Or not, as the case may be. If you prefer, think of a bee bringing pollen to a flower. I am well aware that the paradigm-shift in epistemology that I am advocating is more of an upheaval than a mere shift. Epistemology naturalized is one thing; epistemology sexualized is another. Knowledge is the sexual impingement of the world on the soul! Not necessarily human sex, you understand, but sex as a general biological category, including plants and platypuses. It is interesting to ask what epistemology would look like on another planet in which sex is implemented quite differently from on Earth, perhaps involving no soul impingement. What is true is that in the human case sexual psychology is uppermost in people’s minds, especially during their formative epistemic years, so that it wouldn’t be surprising if it colored their understanding of the concept of knowledge. Amatory knowledge is clearly important and salient to us; it might well set the standard for knowledge in general. Our knowledge is indelibly human.

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