REASON. We need fundamental principles to
guide us in living our lives. If, as Harris says, we should not rely on
fundamental principles acquired through faith, how should we develop those
principles? Harris has a two-part answer. First is reason. In a manner typical
of his style, Harris offers no concise, rigorous definition of that concept. He
does provide many cognitive elements which he apparently thinks the concept subsumes,
though he does not say so explicitly.
For example, Harris says we should observe (p. 76), search
for evidence (p. 15), and reject ideas that are not based on evidence. (p. 25)
"Our beliefs should be representations of the world." (p. 58) We
should exercise "commonsense judgments" (p. 75). We should
experiment, at least in the sciences (p. 76). We should ratiocinate (p. 76), as
well as engage in "discursive reasoning" and "rational
discourse" (p. 25) We should critique and discuss our principles, as paths
to progress. Religion is not open to progress. (p. 22) "Whatever is true
now should be discoverable now, and describable in terms
that are not an outright affront to the rest of what we know about the
world." (p. 22) Harris also sees that one's ideas must be logically
consistent; he says our ideas must not contradict one another, but then he
adds: "at least locally." (p. 53) "By recourse to intuitions of
truth and falsity, logical necessity and contradiction, human beings are able
to knot together private visions of the world that largely cohere." (p.
51)
Most of those cognitive elements, with the exceptions of
"commonsense judgments" and "intuition," are referents of
the concept "reason" objectively formed. So, Harris has basically the
right elements—looking at the world and thinking about it—for forming the
concept of reason.
Confusingly, Harris sometimes uses the term
"reason" ("rational") to mean merely syllogistic
consistency: "In fact, even the most extreme expressions of faith [such as
"Jehovah's Witnesses refusing blood transfusions"] are often
perfectly rational, given the requisite beliefs." (p. 69) "Which
beliefs one takes to be foundational will dictate what seems reasonable at any
given moment." (p. 69) And: "Given what Islamists believe, it is
perfectly rational for them to strangle modernity wherever they can lay hold of
it." (p. 136) Harris does not grasp that reason is present only when
objectivity is present, that is, when we form ideas logically from
sense-perception of reality. For Harris, a link missing from the cognitive
chain that connects observation to our most fundamental principles is a theory
of concept formation. He has no way to account for logically building concepts
of objects in reality (such as "dog" or "chair") and then
building higher and higher level abstractions. We will see how he fills this
cognitive gap.
MYSTICISM. Besides his truncated,
unintegrated version of "reason," Harris offers a second alternative
to faith: a certain other type of mysticism. Some background information is
required. For Harris, "spiritual" and "mystical" are
synonyms. (p. 40) Harris defines "spirituality" as "the
cultivation of happiness directly, through precise refinements of
attention," that is, "meditation." (p. 192) Mystical experiences
are experiences of "meaningfulness, selflessness, and heightened emotion
that surpass our narrow identities as 'selves' and escape our current
understanding of the mind and brain." (pp. 39-40)
There is no denying that most of us have emotional
and spiritual needs that are now addressed—however obliquely and at a terrible
price—by mainstream religion. And these are needs that a mere
understanding of our world, scientific or otherwise, will
never fulfill. There is clearly a sacred dimension to our existence, and coming
to terms with it could well be the highest purpose of human life. But we will
find that it requires no faith in untestable propositions—Jesus was born of a
virgin; the Koran is the word of God—for us to do this. (p. 16)
If our highest purpose requires understanding a "sacred
dimension" of our world, but neither faith nor science (which is an
application of reason) will provide that understanding, then where will it come
from? Harris's answer is "empirical mysticism." (p. 215)
For millennia, contemplatives have known that
ordinary people can divest themselves of the feeling that they call 'I' and
thereby relinquish the sense that they are separate from the rest of the
universe. This phenomenon, which has been reported by practitioners in many
spiritual traditions, is supported by a wealth of evidence—neuroscientific,
philosophical, and introspective. Such experiences are 'spiritual' or
'mystical', for want of better words, in that they are relatively rare
(unnecessarily so), significant (in that they cover genuine facts about the
world), and personally transformative. They also reveal a far deeper connection
between ourselves and the rest of the universe than is suggested by the
ordinary confines of our subjectivity. (pp. 40-41)
The claims of mystics are neurologically quite
astute. No human being has ever experienced an objective world, or even a
world at all. You are, at this moment, having a visionary
experience. The world that you see and hear is nothing more than a modification
of your consciousness, the physical status of which remains a
mystery. (p. 41)
What then is mysticism? As usual, Harris
defines his terms obliquely.
Mysticism is a rational enterprise. Religion is
not. The mystic has recognized something about the nature of
consciousness prior to thought, and this recognition is
susceptible to rational discussion. The mystic has reasons for what he
believes, and these reasons are empirical. The roiling mystery of the
world can be analyzed with concepts (this is science), or it
can be experienced free of concepts (this is
mysticism). (p. 221, emphasis added)
A mystical state thus is a state of consciousness, that is,
a state of awareness. Awareness of what? Of "the world," but without
thinking about it. Thus mysticism is some sort of direct apprehension of the
world, without concepts, without thoughts, without reasoning. That conclusion
is confirmed by Harris in statements such as:
There is something to realize about the nature of
consciousness, and its realization does not entail thinking new
thoughts. (p. 218)
Now we live in ignorance of the freedom and
simplicity of consciousness, prior to the arising of thought. (p.
219)
Mysticism, as Harris conceives it, is thus preconceptual
consciousness, which, the reader may realize, is the consciousness of an
animal.
"My debt to a variety of contemplative traditions
that have their origin in India will be obvious to many readers," Harris
notes. "The esoteric teachings of Buddhism . . . and Hinduism . . . have
done much to determine my view of our spiritual possibilities." (n.
12, Ch. 7, on p. 293)
Harris supports two other forms of mysticism (defined
objectively here),
though he does not call them that. First is self-evidency.
Harris sometimes claims certain insights are "self-evident," even
when they are complex and abstract. (See p. 31 for an example.) (For a brief
discussion of rational and mystical uses of the term "self-evidency,"
see: aristotleadventure.blogspot.com/search/label/self-evidency.)
Harris's second additional form of mysticism is
intuition.
Whatever its stigma, 'intuition' is a term that we
simply cannot do without, because it denotes the most basic constituent of our
faculty of understanding. . . . When we can break our knowledge of a thing down
no further, the irreducible leap that remains is intuitively taken. Thus, the
traditional opposition between reason and intuition is a false one: reason is
itself intuitive to the core, as any judgment that a proposition is
'reasonable' or 'logical' relies on intuition to find its feet. (p.
183)
Intuition is thus the same as claiming "It is
obvious." (p. 184) (See other discussions here
and here.)
Harris says:
How the loom of cognition first begins weaving is still a
mystery, but there seems little doubt that we come hardwired with a variety of
proto-linguistic, proto-doxastic (from the Greek doxa,
'belief') capacities that enable us to begin interpreting the tumult of the
senses as regularities in the environment and in ourselves. (p. 248, n.
14 of Ch. 2, from p. 58)
RELATION OF REASON AND MYSTICISM. The
advocates of the major Abrahamic religions often say they support reason
and faith, each in its own domain, but usually relying on
faith to "establish" such notions as the existence of another world,
a god, and the god's ethical rules. Harris rejects the notion of peace between
reason and faith as "delusional." (p. 16) What then is Harris's view
of the relationship of reason and mysticism as he has defined these concepts
(if he has)?
In conclusion, Sam Harris is indeed an opponent of faith, in the form of religion, but also an advocate of other forms of mysticism, alongside a form of "reason" so limited that we must "intuit" the ethical principles that serve as our guides in life. Adding his reductionism and determinism (not discussed here) to the mixture, one can say that he is not an advocate of reason.
Burgess Laughlin
Author of The Power and the Glory: The Key Ideas and Crusading Lives of Eight Debaters of Reason vs. Faith at http://www.reasonversusmysticism.com/