“Self-Ownership”: A Critique.

(1) Ownership is a relational concept that implies a relationship between the owner and the thing owned. Of course, the mere fact that a concept denotes a relationship does not exclude the possibility of self-referential relationships, e.g. a doctor treating himself, and that self-ownership is just an instance of that. But observe that the doctor does not treat himself qua doctor but qua patient. So that person is doctor in one respect and patient in another respect, and the relationship is between these two. Such, however, is not possible in the case of “self-ownership”. Between what aspects of man’s nature is there a relationship of ownership? Since ownership designates the right to sovereignly dispose of the owned, what in man owns what in him? The only possible answer that comes to my mind is: his mind owns his body. But this implies an invalid mind/body dichotomy. Therefore, “self-ownership” is an invalid concept. At best, it is a bad metaphor for the fact that human being are sovereign entities that direct their own course.

(2) This brings me to the second point: the purpose of this invalid concept. Usually, libertarians use the so-called “self-ownership axiom” as the foundation of their political philosophy (to the extent that they have one): Man is a self-owner, to deny this implies a self-contradiction (thus “axiom”), therefore his rights/his freedom may not be infringed. Observe however, that this kind of faulty reasoning is only made possible by the term “self-ownership” which actually package-deals two different ways in which you can talk about “freedom”. For the purpose of this discussion, I call the first “metaphysical freedom” and the second “political freedom”. What I mean by metaphysical freedom simply is free will. I have the freedom to act as I will, I direct my own course and actions by choice.

Now, how are these two distinct concepts package-dealt? Observe that ownership is a political concept, it denotes my right to dispose of the owned as I please. And to have this right respected is a significant precondition for political freedom. However, when libertarians talk about self-ownership, they more often than not refer to “metaphysical freedom”, and this is also where the notion of “self-ownership” as an axiom comes from. For free will is indeed axiomatic: you cannot deny it without committing a self-contradiction. But in labeling this kind of freedom “self-ownership”, libertarians blurr the distinction between metaphysical and political freedom and thus are able to assert that just because we have free will, we should be politically free. Which is a non sequitur. Just because we can direct our own actions by choice does not automatically mean that we have the right to do so. Such a right needs to be grounded philosophically in an account of human nature and ethics. By using the package-deal “self-ownership”, libertarians try to get around that.

Ayn Rand on natural sciences vs humanities

This is just a short note or reminder to myself, and to anyone who might be interested, since I find the following very interesting. At OCON some of us discussed whether it is legitimate to split human knowledge into the natural sciences on the one hand and the humanities or Geisteswissenschaften on the other hand, especially in the way which it is done – because it usually comes down to denying that the humanities are sciences.

Now, I found a very brief statement by Ayn Rand on this issue, which I want to put here without further comment:

“Growing from a common root, which is philosophy, man’s knowledge branches out in two directions. One branch studies the physical world or the phenomena pertaining to man’s physical existence; the other studies man or the phenomena of his consciousness. The first leads to abstract science, which leads to applied sience or engineering, which leads to technology–to the actual production of material values. The second leads to art.
Art is the technology of the soul.”

(Ayn Rand: The Romantic Manifesto, p. 169.)

On Fear of Death

Many people are afraid of dying, not only when their life and health actually are under serious threat, but in general: Their fear is due to the incertitude they experience when confronted with the question:

“How will it be like, how will it feel to be dead?”

Most people don’t believe in an afterlife anymore (and they are right). Still, they are plagued by a certain kind of disquietude when they ask themselves what will happen to them and their bodies after their death, how it will be like when consciousness ends and the body decomposes, whether it will be like sleeping without dreams, or whatever. They cannot imagine the world going on without them, and without them being aware of it. They shrink away from the idea that they might be consigned to a black void, or however it might feel like. They feel uncertain and frightened, because they don’t know the answer to that probing question: “How will it be like to be dead?”–a question that actually can never be answered due to reasons I am going to expose later on in this post.

I think that Ayn Rand gave a good solution to the issue of fear of death as expressed in her well-known statement: “It’s not I who will die, it’s the world that will end.” This statement expresses a fundamental truth and gives an important hint to the origin of that unpleasant emotion connected with fear of death.

But what kind of truth? Obviously, the truth of Ayn Rand’s statement cannot be of a metaphysical nature, since that would contradict the primacy of existence: If reality exists independently from consciousness, then the withering away of my consciousness won’t put an end to existence.

I think that the truth conveyed by Rand’s statement is a basic epistemological truth:

There is no “what” of cognition without a “how” of cognition; no content of cognition without an instrument of cognition. Without consciousness, there exists nothing you could be consciouss of. If I die, i.e. if my consciousness ends, then the world, too, will end for me. And this also means that, for me, there will be no such thing as death or a state of being dead. As Ayn Rand remarked: Per definitionem, I won’t be there when it happens. One cannot live to see death.

The question of how death will be like is not only unanswerable–it is invalid. And it is unanswerable precisely because it is invalid. The mistake involved consists of assuming or projecting a “what” of cognition–the state of death–although there won’t be a “how” of cognition left in that state. Since there is no content of cognition possible outside of conscious awareness, asking for the quality of awareness of a non-conscious state is a vain endeavor.

Specifically, the mistake consists in the reification of the content of cognition as being independent from the instrument of cognition. This is an instance of disregard for the fact that objectivity always is a certain kind of relationship between existence and consciousness for which both sides are equally constitutive. In this case, both the “how” and the “what” are constitutive for the cognitive act. If you take away the “how”, there won’t be a “what” left, either. (Please remember that I am talking about the epistemological level; of course the withering away of consciousness does not put an end to existence. It merely puts an end to our access to existence, to our personal perspective on existence, to our sense that something exists, i.e. it puts an end to us.)

Thus, the mistake involved is a manifestation of intrinsicism.

What, then, would be a proper attitude towards death?

Our awareness of reality and of ourselves is conditionally based on the existence of our consciousness–an existence limited in time. Beyond that range of time, there exists nothing for us. We are dependend upon our consciousness, its range and cognitive capacity. That which is outside of its boundaries set by its eventual end is of no concern to us. This also applies to death. I won’t live to see death, that state in which my consciousness has finally ended. For me, who exists primarily through his conscious awareness, death is inexistent, for there cannot be an awareness of death per definitionem. And more: Death is not only inexistent by the standard of conscious awareness–it is also insignificant.

It is a moot point to reflect upon the quality of the state of death, for death does not have such a quality for us. My death is real only for those who are not me, because they will be confronted with my corpse–I won’t be. Therefore, instead of wasting time thinking about death, we should concern ourselves with life. We should reflect on how we should live and what we want from life. We will never live to see death; however, we experience life all the time. Epistemologically, for us there exists only our own life, and nothing else, neither prior to it, nor after it.

Life is what really matters, and what deserves our fullest attention. The proper attitude towards death, thus, is in truth the proper attitude towards life.

On Hypochondria

A hypochondriac is a person who is in constant fear for his health. He is always on the lookout for symptoms that might convey a major and probably deadly illness of his body, and often he is shaken with anxiety due to the slightest inanity. The hypochondriac’s fear-burdened relationship to his own bodily functioning is a strong obstacle to a happy and normal life.

What differentiates the hypochondriac from a normal man, who trusts his health and his body’s competence to function in a way appropriate to his survival, basically is an issue of methodology, of the basic epistemological approach to health and illness.

A normal man regards being healthy as the normal state of his body. He only questions it when he has sufficient reasons to do so, i.e. if he observes certain symptoms–such as pain, fever, discolorations of his skin/eyes, or whatever–that might indicate a bodily malfunctioning. He then acts accordingly and goes to see a doctor in order to get a diagnosis and the appropriate treatment.

The hypochondriac, on the other hand, does not regard health as the given, which should not be questioned without sufficient reasons. Rather, he doubts his health groundlessly. This seemingly arbitrary doubt originates from his (implicit) methodological approach: Instead of regarding health as the normal and the given, he accepts illness as the normal condition of man’s (or, at least, his own) life.

Nonetheless, the hypochondriac still values his life, and therefore his health–a value under constant threat according to his methodological premise that illness (i.e. bodily malfunctioning finally resulting in death) is the normal condition and epistemological starting point in issues of health. Thus his constant fear, and thus his feverish effort to constantly check his body’s functioning, i.e. to prove to himself, by trying to gather sufficient reasons for it, that he is healthy.

Since the human body is a pretty complex entity, and since it is generally impossible to prove the nonexistence of something–in this case: of malfunctioning–, the proof desired by the hypochondriac has to fail. The hypochondriac is trapped in a situation where he, due to his methodological premises, sees a constant threat to his values, i.e. health and life.

Now, is there any reason why man should accept health, and not illness, as the normal condition? — Yes, there is.

Living organisms are conditional. Their continued existence depends on specific actions and processes that have to be successfully performed in order for the organism to stay alive. If the organism fails, it will disintegrate and finally die. Health is the state of an organism successful at the task of survival, of an organism whose functioning is appropriate to its continued existence. Illness is the state of an organism that fails at this task, and that has begun the slow process of disintegration.

For an existing thing, existence (qua the thing it is) is its normal state. This is also true of living organisms. But since the existence of such organisms is conditional, their existence qua living organisms means nothing but their being healthy as their normal state. Illness is not the normal state of living organisms, but a pathological state ultimately leading to their destruction/death, i.e. to non-existence.

Since health is the normal state of living organismus (and among them, man) metaphysically, it is only sound also to adopt health as the starting point epistemologically, when dealing with issues concerning the organism’s (mal-)functioning.

A rational man regards his health as the given, which does not require any further proof. On the contrary, it is illness the existence of which requires proof. His approach to issues of bodily functioning is: “I will regard myself as being healthy unless proven otherwise.”

The hypochondriac, on the other hand, is irrational. He ignores the metaphysical nature of living organisms and inverses the methodological approach in issues of bodily functioning. His approach to such issues is: “I will regard myself as being ill unless proven otherwise.”

Thus, the hypochondriac provokes a clash between goals and the means to achieve them, between his values and his competence, between his desired health and his seemingly fragile body incapable of achieving it. What emerges (or is reinvoked), then, is a sense of constant, tragic struggle against a failing body that, ultimately, is incompetent to live.