in a perfect world of yancies

05 February 2010

Is It Just Cold?

Before we head off on our weekend of fun in the snow, here are few roughly-drafted thoughts about a writing assessment thing I was helping with recently:

I was struck by the fact that a number of students flat-out rejected van den Haag's claim that the justness of the distribution cannot affect the justness of the punishment. At first, my reaction (shared by my colleagues, resulting in low "critical thinking" scores) was that the students in question had misunderstood the basic distinction between theory and practice, between (in this case) the principle behind a law and the application of that law. After all, if we collapse that distinction, we would be left in the absurd position of saying that because it is in practice impossible to articulate the infinitely long decimal representation of the square root of the number eight, eight is not in fact a number whose square root has a infinitely long decimal representation. If we can't do it, then it must not be correct: surely that reasoning is faulty.

But then I thought of Plato's Theaetetus, which I'm teaching in PHIL 220, and which briefly addresses the nature of the square roots. Not long after that discussion, Socrates and Theaetetus begin an earnest and careful consideration of relativism. Protagoras famously said that a human being is the measure of all things, and Plato's characters try to work out just what that might mean and whether or not we should agree.

I'm no relativist, but sometimes it looks right--for example when it comes to temperature. Is it cold out today? Well, if I say it is, then it is, for me; and if you disagree, then you're also right, relative to you...

And so: what would the relativist, the genuine and committed relativist, have to say about the square root of 8? I can't be sure, but it seems that one account might look like this: if the decimal representation is finite for me, then the decimal representation is in fact finite, since I am the measure. I can of course represent the number as the base of a 8-foot square, or as the diagonal of a 4-foot square (as Socrates does in Plato's Meno), but I cannot represent it as an infinite series of digits, because I cannot represent an infinite series of digits.

If that account works, then it looks like the relativist not only collapses the distinction between theory and practice, but demands such a collapse of all of us. Indeed, in terms of justice the position states that "whatever view a city takes on [matters of justice and injustice] and establishes as its law or convention, is truth and fact for that city" (Theaetetus 172a). Following that reasoning, if a conventional application of a law is unjust, then it seems that the law itself is, for the relativist, also thereby unjust. There is no question of the law being just or unjust independent of its context and application, because justice can only be found in a particular context.

[This is still not quite right... but I think that I'm getting at something. And if not, then I'll at least no longer think I know what I don't know.]

Given this possible explanation of a student's refusal to grant van den Haag the premise that we can evaluate a law or a punishment independent of its application, I grow worried that the CAPE exam is somehow unfairly stacked against the relativist. I am not here endorsing relativism, but it does seem to me that in judging critical thinking they way we (the scorers) have judged it, we have perhaps unjustly made viewing morality as objective a precondition for success in thinking.

Is the demand that students evaluate justice independent of convention and application a demand that students abandon relativism? And is that a demand that a writing assessment ought to be making?

24 January 2010

2010 So Far, Pt One: Food! Yay!

Thought some thematic posts might be a fun way to kick-start my '10 blogging. So in the next few posts I'll catch you up on various activities and interests--movies, musics, exciting new leisure developments, maybe more professional updates.

Politics? No, not for a little while. Ugh.

So, coming next time: Movies we've seen--and thanks to the online database E created for the two of us, 2010 should be a great year for keeping track of what we see and what we think!

Hey, speaking of Emily, the website she's been working on for the upcoming Western Roundup, an archives meeting in Seattle this spring, involving all sorts of groups (Conference of Inter-Mountain Archivists, Northwest Archivists, Society of California Archivists, and Society of Rocky Mountain Archivists) is up and running!

Looks great, no? I love that flyer!


So, now to talk food.
One recent highlight was a winter vegetable chili that Emily made, using a recipe from Food and Wine magazine.

Parsnips, carrots, hominy, even chipotle: what a great combination of flavors and textures! Definitely a keeper! (Food and Wine, you ask? Well, back before we knew how fun flying first class could be, we spent some frequent flyer miles on some magazine experiments. This recipe? Worth at least one round-trip upgrade!)

One thing I'd gladly pay lots and lots of my hard-earned money to read is the New York Times. Recently Mark Bittman did a story on lentils and other legumes, and I made the lentils with curried tarka: it was amazing.

Now, granted, it had half a stick of butter in a recipe that served four, so the odds were in our favor. But wow, for something that took like 20 minutes to make, this was super tasty.

Finally, a week or so ago I did a wing-it kind of thing with some butternut squash that we had leftover from the farmers market (returns in May, just 4 months from now! can't wait!). We consulted and then adapted and then transcended (?) this Roasted Butternut Squash Risotto recipe from epicurious.com (originally in the, alas, now-defunct Gourmet magazine).
No photo, but here's a rough account of how we made it:

  • Cut 2 small butternut squashes (?) into one-inch cubes and bake until tender at say 450º (this should take something like 30-40 minutes)
  • Heat a few cups of chicken broth, preferably home made from what was left over last time you cooked a Stokesberry Farm chicken
  • Chop one medium onion and sauté in butter in a relatively big sauce pan until soft
  • Add one and one-half cups arborio rice and a teaspoon or so of cumin; stir for a minute or two
  • Pour in one quarter cup of dry white wine, stir for two or three minutes
  • Add one cup of chicken broth at a time, stirring regularly until absorbed
  • After 20-25 minutes, you should have some tender and delicious risotto
  • Add a quarter cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, the squash, and some salt and pepper
  • Yummy!

18 January 2010

Skating and More

at Lynwood Bowl & Skate
Had a great time at Lynnwood Bowl & Skate this weekend. Emily showed off her skills on her skates, and Jon, Sara, and Yancy looked pretty good on their rentals, if I do say so myself.

All that, plus fun music, disco balls, and an adults-only "fast skate" = fun times in the suburbs.

Best pic of the day award goes to Sara, who got this great shot of Jon:



Skating


In other news, I have a nice new sweater, thanks to Emily and Benetton:
New sweater


And, as you may have heard, my Journal of the History of Philosophy article on Plato is finally out!

Just 13 months after they accepted it. But hey, good things are worth the wait, right?

To download your own personal copy, please go to my website.

Cheers, reader!

10 January 2010

... And Happy New Year!

Sorry for the delay...
Here's a taste of our trip back east:
IN the cold
Sure is cold in Indiana in December!

Luckily, as you may have heard, Fran and Dave's new place almost always has a nice warm fire going.

Meanwhile in McHenry, Emily and Mom D enjoyed eggnog and gifts:
Emily and Mom D

And in St. Charles, Amelia seemed to be enjoying the stuffed Banana Slug we got her on our visit to Olympic National Park:
Amelia and "Snail" the Banana Slug
She's named it Snail, which is close. And cute.

Okay, well, we have a nice new computer, which hopefully will help me post lots and lots of frequent and wonderful things here. Soon.

In the meantime: getting ready to teach a class on Leucippus and Democritus, a couple of guys from the Fifth Century BCE who believed that the world was made up of tiny, invisible particles called "atoms." Good stuff.