The Boiler Room of the Soul

Recently, a question has been asked of me, a question so simple that it can get centuries' of philosophers' blood boiling: how do we know anything I was asked, "Russ, sometimes it seems that you make it seem far too easy to accept the doctrines of the church, as though the only ingredient necessary was facts. But it's not the only necessary ingredient. Some of us have a harder time buying into the 'facts.'" It was suggested that I share what thoughts I had on how one knows something. I reserve the right to not only cite philosophers (you know, those pesky 'thinkers' who aren't supposed to be sharing anything relevant--get back to your Ivory Tower!) but also the divine philosophy of the scriptures. After all, philosophy just means "the love of wisdom." I have long lost count of how many times Sunday School teachers point out wisdom's many positive attributes over that of knowledge.

First, a little Marxist philosophy (we're co-opting for it our own purposes here). Antonio Gramsci talked of the concept of "hegemony." We use the word today to refer to a bloc of power in some realm of global or domestic affairs (ie you could talk of an "American hegemony"). However, Gramsci initially envisioned a far more dynamic picture taking place. Gramsci posed the question of why the international socialist revolution never happened following the Bolshevik revolution in 1917. Gramsci argued that the working class had essentially accepted the values of the bourgeoisie; we hear such sentiment in Calvin Coolidge's famed axiom: "The business of America is business." Or one might cite Thomas Paine's work: Common Sense ; what was once considered a radical idea for American colonists--the idea of independence--in 1775 was accepted as simply "common sense." This is not to mean that other ideas have no place in a social system; they do. But they only stay on the terms set by the dominating force .

Why is this significant? Because, while Gramsci was using the term derisively against the power of the middle classes, I would suggest that this process is simply how the mortal world fucntions. And for those who believe that some realms have no dominant ideology or prevailing thought, I would encourage them to ask any American if it is a good idea to drink a poisonous substance or to do the cha-cha in the middle of a busy New York street. I haven't done the stats, but I'll bet a dollar (maybe two--I'm a cheap man) that 9 out of 10 would say that anyone who wants to do that needs at the very least, some real mental assistance. Societies have prevailing ideologies about appropriateness and if they are not adhered to, then there are real consequences.

But not only do they exist at a societal level; they exist at an individual level as well. All of us have competing ideologies, influences if you will, in our personal makeup. Everything from a random lesson learned in 3rd grade history to what your mother taught you about stealing to what Zach Morris taught you about drinking and driving. Now, of course, these ideas do not have an equal place at our mental tables--some sit at the end whereas others are right beside us. When some people speak of a kind of primal urge to jump off of a tall building (just for the thrill), they are obviously not talking about what they actually want to do. Their urge for self-preservation is sitting closer to their inner decision-making capacity. But what of the man who saves the burning child in a flame-engorged house? Certainly, something else even trumps the need for self-preservation. These urges, values, and desires seem to be constantly posturing, posing, maneuvering no differently than aspiring corporate bureaucrats at a boiler room meeting.

So how does knowledge real knowledge play into this? Well, as has been said many times before, knowing facts is insufficient. The question is: which ideology sits closest to the boss in this boiler room meeting of the soul? In other words, which value has established as the hegemonic value, the one that governs the existence of all the others? The answer to this question is crucial; without an answer, we are left with merely a problem so vast that we have no choice but to, if you will, fire all the board members, declare spiritual bankruptcy, and become a vagabond seeking to find spiritual housing wherever we can for the time being.

Forunately, the words of both a a Catholic apologist and a disillusioned Christian might provide us some answers. That answer, to put in the (fictional) words of John Nash from A Beautiful Mind is love. First (and those who know me know that I can't resist this), G.K. Chesterton provides us with a direct description of how one ought to go about the re-ordering of his hegemony: "The evil of the pessimist is, then, not that he chastises gods and men, but that he does not love what he chastises" (he proceeds to criticize optimists for being too willing to "soothe every one with assurances," for being unwilling to "wash the world but [will instead] whitewash the world"). Love is central to understanding what is wrong and how best to fix it.

Similarly, Thomas Carlyle has a most poignant description of the power. To quote directly from Carlyle (pardon the block quotation; I just don't feel right cutting these words apart with my own):
"A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. This it is that opens the whole mind, quickens every faculty of the intellect to do its fit work, that of knowing; and therefrom, by sure consequence, of vividly uttering forth...Hereby, indeed, is the whole man made a living mirror wherein the wonders of this ever wonderful universe are, in their true light (which is ever a magical miraculous one) represented and reflected back on us. It has been said: 'The heart sees farther than the head:' but indeed, without the seeing heart, there is no true seeing for the head...all is mere oversight, hallucination and vain superficial phantasmagoria (an optical illusion) which can permanently profit no one."

While both authors were indoubtably heavily influenced by Christian thought, perhaps we would do well to listen to them in spite of our own lack of conviction. Love is not the consummate virtue, but the virtue. Before it and after it, there is none other. It becomes interesting both Paul's and Mormon's words concerning charity: "the pure love of Christ"; "if I have not charity, I am nothing." In light of this, perhaps we would do well to listen to that lone, oppressed revolutionary voice who fights our sometimes selfish hegemonies of thought, who insists that in spite of the cynicism of the day, love is still en vogue.