Chris Scott

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the disparate gap in reasoning between the mainstream academic elites and the rest of America. Why is it that liberalism is so often an outgrowth of scholarly people? The most prominent colleges in America—the ivy league schools—are often the most liberal environments, and produce the writers, artists and politicians who are often the most liberal. Why is this so?

To be clear I want to define what I mean by liberalism in this context, which abides in 20-21st century America. In our age, liberalism recognizes morality and ethics as an issue, but refuses to see any power higher than the power of man that ordains what is right and what is wrong. Liberalism provides a form of justice, but that justice can be defined by the majority itself, or whomever the majority elects. In the ideology of liberalism, everything is subject to change and perspective, and there are no absolutes.

In one form or another, the confrontation of ‘liberalism’ and ‘conservatism’ we see in modern American society has taken place again and again throughout human history. Don’t misinterpret. I am simply using the words ‘liberalism’ and ‘conservatism’ because, in most cases, those who march under the banner of liberalism tend to justify their actions with a specific type of reasoning, and those under the banner of conservatism have a common brand of reasoning as well. A person who calls himself a ‘liberal’ may very well utilize reasoning outside of the liberal framework, and a person who calls himself a ‘conservative’ might do the same. Don’t reject a stereotype because it is a stereotype. Reject a stereotype because it is wrongly and unfairly used. I could use the stereotype that most Africans are black and be absolutely correct.

Another point related to the first sentence of the preceding paragraph—don’t fumble, or reject a statement’s validity because of it’s obviousness. It doesn’t matter how obvious a revelation may seem, its obviousness has nothing to do with its correctness. If I were to say that liberals, who constitute a good 20% of the American population, gravitate around a false idea—I could be perfectly correct.

Conservatism—and this is not how everyone defines, but is closely correlated with many popular definitions—is the idea that there is a higher existence which ordains what is right and wrong. This ‘higher existence’ has made it clear to us the values which are right and wrong; and the conservative wishes to keep or conserve those values. In American society, the entity that the founders attributed much to—the Judeo-Christian God—is that being or ‘higher existence’. This understanding, I believe, is indisputable. Even those founders who where the most popularly perceived as non-Christians conceded with the appeal to the Judeo-Christian God while forming our system of government.

Benjamin Franklin, a deist, said the following at the constitutional convention in Philadelphia, 1787:

Mr. President:

The small progress we have made after 4 or five weeks close attendance & continual reasonings with each other — our different sentiments on almost every question, several of the last producing as many noes as ays, is methinks a melancholy proof of the imperfection of the Human Understanding. We indeed seem to feel our own wont of political wisdom, since we have been running about in search of it. We have gone back to ancient history for models of government, and examined the different forms of those Republics which having been formed with the seeds of their own dissolution now no longer exist. And we have viewed Modern States all round Europe, but find none of their  Constitutions suitable to our circumstances.

In this situation of this Assembly groping as it were in the dark to find political truth, and scarce able to distinguish it when to us, how has it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of lights to illuminate our understandings? In the beginning of the contest with G. Britain, when we were sensible of danger we had daily prayer in this room for the Divine Protection. — Our prayers, Sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All of us who were engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances of a Superintending providence in our favor. To that kind providence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful friend? or do we imagine that we no longer need His assistance.

I have lived, Sir, a long time and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth — that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without his notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid? We have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings that “except the Lord build they labor in vain that build it.” I firmly believe this; and I also believe that without his concurring aid we shall succeed in this political building no better than the Builders of Babel: We shall be divided by our little partial local interests; our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall be become a reproach and a bye word down to future age. And what is worse, mankind may hereafter this unfortunate instance, despair of establishing Governments by Human Wisdom, and leave it to chance, war, and conquest.

I therefore beg leave to move — that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessings on our deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning before we proceed to business, and that one or more of the Clergy of this City be requested to officiate in that service.

As you may have noticed, the above speech includes several references to God, but not just any God—the Judeo-Christian God. The “sparrow not falling to the ground without his notice,” “except the Lord build they labor in vain that build it,” and the reference to the “builders of Babel” are all things found in not just any scripture, but the scripture of the Judeo-Christian God. Thomas Jefferson, another founder often mistakenly perceived as atheist, agnostic or anti-religious, was far from it. The truth is—even those founding fathers most dynamically opposed to orthodox Christianity were, by today’s standards, radical right-wing religious extremists. And imagine how utterly convincing a Christian-founded America would be if I took into account the words of those founding fathers who were outwardly orthodox Christians.

There is no doubting that the actions of the founding fathers was anchored in the belief that there was a God that “governed in the affairs of men.” This in no way implies that America was a country designed for Christians. The founding fathers appealed to (in prayer), and used the principles of the Judeo-Christian God to form an environment that would “strengthen religious freedom.” Their desire, despite what many academics might say, was not to create an environment that would provide “a government without religion,” as Thomas Jefferson, the popularly perceived non-Christian, wrote in an 1802 letter.

With this understood, even those in non-Christian religions must accept that the country that is America—arguably the greatest country to have ever existed—was in fact founded upon, and sustained by Christian principles.

But getting back to the core of my argument, which I hope will identify the source of reasoning behind academic elites in America, I turn to a section in Tom Morris’ Philosophy for Dummies called The Truth About Truth.

But is there any such thing as truth? The philosophy of relativism claims that all so-called truth is relative, that there really is no absolute truth, but that different things may be true for me and true for you. This is sometimes also known as perspectivalism. Perspectives differ, this viewpoint alleges, and one is as good as another.

But notice a problem with the mere statement of relativism. There really is no such thing as absolute truth. Is relativism suggesting that this is the ultimate, absolute truth about truth? In that case, it actually asserts what it denies, and so it’s self-defeating, simply logically incoherent as a philosophical position.

Why then, are so many college students relativists? Why has relativism been so attractive to a number of intellectuals in the 20th century? I think the answers here are quite simple.

“The mind is a dangerous weapon, even to the possessor, if he knows not discreetly how to use it.

— Michael de Montaigne

A little philosophy is a dangerous thing. Too many undergraduates are exposed to relativism in a way that they tend to misunderstand. The philosophy professor often raises the specter of relativism, or perspectivalism, just to jolt his students into a deeper grasp of what is at stake in making truth claims. It is meant to be a rhetorical challenge to natural childhood feelings they’ve long had that what we believe is typically the absolute truth. In philosophy, everything can be challenged. But some views can meet the challenge and stand firm. The professor may actually want his students to see through or refute the relativist challenge and thus understand truth more deeply. But too many students come away grasping just enough of the challenge, while failing to see its fatal flaws, that they themselves begin espousing relativism-with-an-attitude back in the dorm, or back at home with the family. Relativism too often is nothing more than a fancy last gasp of adolescent rebellion.

“There is no worse lie than a truth misunderstood by those who hear it.”

— William James (1842-1910)

But some serious adults have fallen into relativism, too, and a number of otherwise very smart people have found it tempting. What could possibly attract them to a logically inconsistent position? First, relativism can serve as a very persuasive intellectual excuse for very bad behavior. If there is no absolute truth, there is no absolute moral truth, and we can get away with anything we want. Some people are relativists because it’s a wonderful form of self-deception, licensing anything they want to do. And it’s view they can use speciously to attempt to convince otherwise good and sensible people to join them in their shenanigans.

There is a second path to adult relativism that is certainly more respectable, however wrong it nonetheless also is. Many academics have wanted to promote the virtue of tolerance in our pluralistic world, and have wrongly thought that relativism is the royal road to cultivating a firm and resilient openness to other people’s beliefs. But the sort of tolerance that is indeed a virtue is best grounded in respect, and it’s not showing respect for any point of view to say that no points of view can possibly capture reality the way it is.

My remarks here are meant to apply to any utterly general relativism. That is what is self-defeating. There are, certainly, small areas regarding issues of personal taste and comfort where a very limited perspectivalism seems appropriate. The statement “This ice cream tastes good!” might be an appropriate example. It could be true for you—from your perspective, given your tastes—but not for me. But that is very different from the statement, “This ice cream is three years old!” which is a standard truth claim and is not subject to relativistic restriction. Compare the difference between “It’s too hot in here” and “It’s over 90 degrees.” It is the latter statement that is a better example of standard claims about reality. And it is either true or false. No relativity muddies the water.

Truth is our tie to the world. Believing a truth, or stating a truth, is like hitting a target. Falsehood misses the mark. Truth anchors us to reality. Falsehood cuts our connection to the way things really are. We need truth like we need air, or food, or water. Falsehood, by contrast, kills.

To sum it all up—relativism is a self-defeating, false idea, easily disproved and widely rejected by respectable philosophers. And despite the cheap sounding title “Philosophy for Dummies”, Tom Morris, the author of the book, is more or less one of the biggest modern voices of authority on the subject of philosophy. A professor at Notre Dame and a graduate of Yale, Morris is in fact an American academic elite himself. I imagine he observed, first-hand, fellow students adopting the idea of relativism without challenging it.

So what does that say of many of the public figures who adopt relativism? And how many public figures or people of authority actually prescribe to this idea of relativism? I estimate that many do.

The statement: “Liberty University – politically incorrect since 1971″ is a common phrase that’s often seen on bumper stickers an tee-shirts around my college campus. I think that the term “politically incorrect”, which has developed in all social circles in America, is a key indicator to the number of those infected with relativism.

The term “politically incorrect” is often used in reference to religious idea or belief that overlaps another. “Jesus Christ is the salvation of mankind, and the only way to eternal life” is a politically incorrect statement. It conflicts with the belief that there are many ways to heaven—a relativistic idea. It would be politically correct however to say that “Jesus Christ is the only way to heaven for me, but might not be the only way for you.” Which, by the way, is an appeal that Barrack Obama made to gain Christian votes during the 08 presidential race. Some might say that heaven does not exist. In which case, the relativist who does believe in a heaven (even if only outwardly for political reasons) might respond: “I believe a heaven exists for me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that a heaven exists for everyone.” This is altogether a ridiculous idea, and I don’t think you need to be a philosopher to understand that.

Things in America are “politically incorrect” because the establishment refuses to recognize non-relativistic beliefs. This is because relativism, as Morris points out, is an easy way of thinking which has been popularly adopted by politicians and people in seats of power because it allows them to easily appease various people groups and religions simultaneously.

Yet things have not always been this way. Much of the legislation that structures America, specifically the Constitution, are non-relativist doctrines that were created by non-relativists. So we have a conflict. A majority of those in power don’t believe in any absolute truth, yet our government systems were intentionally structured around an absolute truth. Disputing what is truth with these people is impossible because they don’t believe things can have the value of true or false. How can this be?

The ability to value things “true” and “false” is so foundational, that without it, there is no telling where your rationale will lead you. Like Morris says, truth is our “tie to the world” and “anchors us to reality.” You are inevitably a victim of self-deception if you don’t recognize the existence of some form of absolute truth.

The good news, I believe, is that most Americans don’t subscribe to relativism, and will often trace back their moral convictions to some religious doctrine. This is not true however of a plurality of elitists, who in most cases end up in positions directing society. The question must be asked: where are these people getting their ideas from if they have no visible and discernible source for defining right and wrong—or if right and wrong even exist? Are their policies a product of their own intellect? Are we really ready to allow modern intellects to define morality, our way of life, and ultimately reality itself?

These questions, though philosophical, must be asked. If you believe that such things as ‘true’ and ‘false’ exist, everything depends on it.