All posts by Robert M Ellis

About Robert M Ellis

Robert M Ellis is the founder of the Middle Way Society, and author of a number of books on Middle Way Philosophy, including the introductory 'Migglism' and the new Middle Way Philosophy series published by Equinox. A former teacher, he now runs a retreat centre in Wales, Tirylan House, and is in the process of creating a forest garden there.

Dismissiveness

Dismissiveness is the armour plating we use to keep out challenging alternatives to our dominant beliefs. Some dismissiveness is rude, but most of it consists of a polite brush-off or excuse for not engaging with something. There are plenty of rationalisations for being dismissive: we don’t have time for that, and we just want to get on with it (whatever ‘it’ is). When trying to discuss Middle Way Philosophy, I’ve met such responses many times. Of course, our time, attention, and capacity to engage with new ideas really is limited, so is dismissiveness unavoidable? As always, I think there is a Middle Way that respects those conditions, and is not afraid to make a practical judgement not to engage with something that is unlikely to be fruitful, but is nevertheless more open to new ideas than we often are.You're_not_listening!

Too often, instead of trying to strike a balance in their judgement, with clarity about their reasons for not engaging with something, people seem to rely on conventional credibility. This often comes down to how many other people are listening, but there are also conventional markers of academic credibility (has she published in peer reviewed journals etc?) or professional credibility (does she have a senior post?). Those who despair at the mass of ‘equally valid’ opinion on the internet and desperately want some certainty to hold onto are all too likely to rely completely on such criteria. But academics and professionals are likely to be highly specialised – which often means that they can provide accurate detailed information, but that their wider judgements will be skewed towards the assumptions of their narrow discipline. For that reason, many academics have off-hand dismissiveness down to a fine art. One of the encouraging aspects of the avalanche of views and ideas that is the internet is that – amongst the conspiracy theories and other rubbish based on narrow assumptions – the voices of synthesis are sometimes able to break through with wider perspectives than the specialists can offer us. Wikipedia is a wonderful example of this: generally more reliable on average than the specialist paid-for encyclopedias, because it is the product of a continuing exchange of views, rather than one view of a specialist who thinks he knows it all and never questions his wider assumptions.

The realistic, discriminating alternative to dismissiveness, I think, particularly involves two key criteria. I’ve developed these from thinking about the philosophy of science more than anything else:

  1. Considering the purpose of a theory in its context
  2. Comparing it to alternative theories rather than absolute criteria

All too often people seem to think of theories as ‘true’ or ‘false’, but as embodied beings with very limited perspectives we are usually in no position to assess theories as true or false. An implicit assumption that a theory must be false just because it is new to you seems to often be at the root of dismissiveness. Instead of thinking of it as true or false, we need to ask what function the theory fulfils. For example, a new theory about beetles has a very specific function within entomology, and probably few implications beyond it. One of the main problems I encounter with people’s dismissals of Middle Way Philosophy is that they make hasty assumptions about its purpose, often depending on where they encountered it. For example, if they encounter it in a debate about science they assume it’s a scientific theory, in a debate about ethics an ethical theory etc. But its purpose is actually to synthesise these approaches, not just to fulfil the more restricted purposes of one or the other. It thus needs to be judged on how well it addresses the conditions of science, ethics, religion, art, spiritual practice etc, in relation to each other, rather than of one more narrowly conceived.

If I don’t think a particular idea looks set to fulfil the purpose it aims to fulfil (usually because of the assumptions it makes) then I feel justified in devoting no further time to it and starting to look elsewhere. For example, conspiracy-theory based approaches to politics, which concentrate on blaming particular groups (bankers, conservatives, reptilians) for all our ills, are not fulfilling the purpose of political theory as I understand it, which is to help provide practical solutions on which sufficient agreement could be reached to start addressing our social and political problems.

The other element of dismissiveness is based on selective scepticism. It’s always possible to come up with some element of a theory that is insufficiently justified, since no theory created by humans is ever likely to be perfectly justified. But dismissiveness often involves picking on one particular problem with a theory and using it as an excuse to dismiss it, even though that problem hasn’t been looked at in context and the theory hasn’t been compared to alternatives. The nirvana fallacy is the tendency to implicitly compare a given theory to an absolutely perfect model of a kind that doesn’t exist in experience. Instead, to be realistic every judgement needs to be a comparative judgement. If you don’t like this theory, do you have a better one that addresses the same purposes better? Iain McGilchrist’s theory of brain lateralisation seems to be a constant target of dismissiveness due to the nirvana fallacy. People object that its account of such a complex matter as the brain must be over-simplified, but the only established alternative to the language of left and right hemispheres is the assumption of the unified self, which is hugely inadequate by comparison. Brain lateralisation is incredibly fruitful in synthetically explaining a wide range of phenomena in relation to each other, from cultural changes to mental illnesses, as well as potentially supporting an ethical model. The unified self theory has had many centuries to explain these things and failed to do so adequately.

Again, I do think it is justifiable not to give further time and attention to ideas that may be entirely coherent in themselves, but address conditions that can be much better addressed elsewhere. For example, I appreciate the positive motives behind Christian theology, and I have studied it to some extent (in fact my first degree subject has ‘theology’ in the title, despite the fact that it wasn’t central to my interests even then), but I give little attention to it these days, because I have concluded that an approach to issues of spirituality, ethics etc. that starts with the revelatory authority of God is likely to be less effective at actually bringing about ethical and spiritual development than one that starts with an integration model. But one needs to have some idea what the better alternative is and why, rather than only relying on conventional answers.

So, of course we need to make judgements about where to bestow our attention. However, dismissiveness is not inevitable. Avoiding dismissiveness whilst moving on is not simply a matter of being gentle and kindly about it (though that obviously helps too), but of having good reasons for doing so that relate to experience, rather than implicitly appealing to some absolutely right model that you instantly assume you have and the other person doesn’t have. If you get chance to explain your reasons in terms of the purposes of the theory concerned and in terms of having better alternatives, that offers no guarantee that the other person won’t take offence at your lack of attention to their ideas, but it does raise the probabilities of everyone being able to move on in a helpful direction.

 

 

 

Picture: ‘You aren’t listening’ CCSA 2.0 by Jesslee Cuizon (Wikimedia Commons) 

Embodied meaning talk (summer 2014)

I have now given three talks on different retreats introducing embodied meaning. This one, now edited from the summer retreat, is the most detailed of the three. It might be especially useful for people who were on the weekend retreat on meaning recently, and wish to revisit the theme of embodied meaning in slightly more detail and from a different angle. It is also followed by discussion.

Weekend Retreat in Sussex

Last weekend the Middle Way Society held the first of a series of three planned weekend retreats in different parts of England: this time in the village of Telscombe in the South Downs near Brighton. My feeling is that this event was a great success, with a balanced programme, a warm sense of community, and a shared sense of engagement with the Middle Way both in theory and in practice.

At first I was resistant to the society holding weekend retreats, because I felt a weekend was too short a time to sufficiently develop understanding and practice of the Middle Way – but I think I’m now thoroughly converted to the gradualist approach they suggest. They give people a chance to get a taste of the society without too much initial commitment of time or expense, and are able to attract people (e.g. parents of young children) who might find it difficult to manage a longer retreat.

One thing I’m very happy to report about this retreat was a better gender balance – indeed a slight majority of women – in contrast to the week-long retreats in 2013 and 2014 that had been decidedly male dominated. If that has something to do with it being a weekend, that provides a further argument for holding weekend retreats.Sussex retreat

Our programme included four sessions of meditation, two talks with lots of discussion, and a drawing class with Norma Smith. Other things that happened without needing to be programmed were a walk on the downs and an impromptu singing session led by Barry on his guitar (pictured). Despite some minor setbacks (traffic delays on arrival, a certain amount of rain and a lost lemon), a friendly atmosphere quickly developed.

The theme of the retreat was meaning, which I introduced with talks relating embodied meaning to the Middle Way, to religion and to the arts. There were quite a few interruptions, but I was rather pleased by those, as they showed people constantly engaging with the concepts and relating them to their own experience. I expected that all I could offer in terms of ideas on a weekend was an initial stimulus rather than in-depth study, but I think it fulfilled that role. The drawing class also allowed us to experience a predominantly right-hemisphere, embodied meaning as we tried to draw a still life arrangement set up by Norma.

Many thanks to Norma for the class, as well as Nina for provisioning and Barry for dealing with the finances – and indeed everyone else, who all contributed to the retreat in their own way. Our next weekend retreat is in Yorkshire on Feb 20th-22nd 2015 (see link for details), focusing on the environment, and there is another one in Worcestershire on 5th-7th June 2015, focusing on meditation (see link). Hope to see you there!

Picture taken by Norma Smith

Confidence and the conditions of life

There’s a dominant tradition in our culture that there are certain absolute assumptions we have to make to think about our experience at all. This is ‘metaphysics’ in the sense that many philosophers use it: but this is not just a matter for philosophers, as this tradition also affects our thinking about everyone’s immediate practical beliefs. If you see this dominant tradition in the light of embodied meaning and in a recognition of the specialised roles of the two brain hemispheres, though, it can be recognised as narrow, unnecessary and unhelpful rather than inevitable in the way it presents itself. I want to argue that the conditions of our experience and thought are not absolute, and that the assumptions we make about it, though pervasive, are embodied ones. They are a matter, not of necessity, but of confidence.

What are these absolute assumptions that we are supposed to be making? They are assumptions about space and time; about our own existence and that of objects and others; about numbers, maths and logic; about causality and the regularity of ‘nature’; and perhaps even about our freewill and values. I cannot sincerely doubt the existence of the table in front of me, it is claimed, nor even that when I communicate with others (as I am doing now), these others have minds. Once absolute assumptions are supposedly established in this way, it becomes easy enough to apply them to other areas by further reasoning. For example, if I can’t help assuming absolutely that nature is regular, it’s a short step to assuming the independence of ‘facts’ or even values based on an appeal to ‘nature’. Dogmas line up in mutually supportive positions with a click.

To show this whole approach to be basically wrong does not need convoluted reasoning so much as a little reflective bodily awareness. Take a short walk across the room, or whatever space you happen to be in now. What is ‘space’ as you’ve just experienced it? It’s something you move through and relate to through your body. What is ‘time’? It’s experienced in relation to your pulse, which may have raised slightly as you moved from a sitting position to walking. What are the ‘existent’ objects you encountered? The ones you presumably avoided bumping into in the space you traversed. What are ’causes’ as you experienced them? The movement of your muscles set off by nervous impulses, which in turn led you to move across the room.balance beam gymnast

As you move across the room you were, I hope, confident in these assumptions. From long practice of walking you were confident in your ability to stay upright, avoid obstacles, traverse space and reach your immediate goals. These are not abilities we generally reflect upon. We take them for granted as part of our embodied experience, but nevertheless they have a basic meaning in that experience rather than anywhere beyond it. Our early childhood experience helped to form that confidence.

Nevertheless, embodied confidence is not absolute. Indeed, the reason we can be confident is because it’s not absolute. That’s because it involves not just a representation in the left hemisphere of the brain (which may seem to be absolute at a particular moment) but also an alertness in the right hemisphere (which specialises in responding to new stimuli). It’s just possible that as I walk across the room, I may encounter an unexpected obstacle: perhaps it could be something as mundane as a child or pet’s forgotten toy that I might slip on, or perhaps a sudden and unexpected weakness in my body may stop me being able to walk across the room in the way I expected. My body retains the capacity to respond to such surprises. Of course, the biggest threat to my experience of time, space, existence and so forth is death, and that may also come unexpectedly, removing all these taken-for-granted conditions at a stroke.

I am justified (again in an embodied, not an absolute sense) in my day-to-day confidence. However, if I insist on absolutising that confidence and turning it into metaphysics, I am not at all justified. The conditions of time, space, existence etc. may or may not be absolute in any sense beyond my experience – but since I can only experience things through my experience, I have no possible way of knowing. These things may just be constructions of ours, or they may not. However, it seems obvious that the absolutisation of them is just a construction of our left hemispheres.

This matters because it provides a constant basic reinforcement of our tendency to give a disproportionate and absolute status to the facts or values we believe in and identify with at the moment. Perhaps I believe that my love for my partner will be eternal, or that Tories are the scum of the earth, or that Buddhism is the ultimate true religion. We may have some evidence from experience to support any of these sorts of beliefs, but to absolutise them and make them a basis of conflict, we wheel in metaphysics. These truths, we assume, are self-evident. Well, I’m afraid that whatever your ‘truths’ are, and however self-righteous you are feeling about them, they are subject to sceptical doubt, Staying in touch with that doubt is important for arguing your case confidently rather than dogmatically.

 

Picture: gymnast on balance beam by Volker Minkus (CC-BY 3.0)