By Chris H.
Blogging has been a big part of my life over the last 5 years.. I have gotten to know many interesting people. I have made friends. I have made enemies.
I have never posted consistently, but instead have chosen to comment…a lot. I am actually a very passive and mild person. While blogging, I have developed a voice. Actually, many voices…possibly more than there are in my head.
After 4 years with BYU-Idaho and this past year at BYU, I am moving on to a permanent position as a public community college. I am excited for a new start. Most of all, I am excited for the stability that this position will bring to my family.
I have been trying to figure out how Mormon blogging and the Bloggernacle will fit into my new phase of life. What I have decided is that they will not.
Instead, I should write a dissertation. Maybe an article or two. I think I will blog, but I am not sure about what.
I have quit the Bloggernacle once before. That time I was angry. Now I am at peace.
Thanks.

By smallaxe
I recently came across this presentation by Daniel Peterson given at the annual FAIR Conference in 2009. Admittedly I haven’t read much of Peterson’s work, but from conversations I’ve had with others I get the sense that he’s rather well respected in the field of Islamic Studies. I know he’s also very involved in Mormon Studies. I gather that he’s one of the best comparativists that LDSs have since he’s deeply knowledgeable of Islam and Mormonism. Read more »

By Chris H.
The feminist idea of care is both a response to the canon of ethical and political theory as well as an alternative approach to that cannon. In this essay, I contend that caring relationships are a valuable and necessary component of a just society, and as a result necessary in any theoretical argument about social justice. Yet, it could be asked whether the theory of social justice advanced by the philosopher John Rawls adequately incorporates the idea of care. I will argue here that the concept of care is an important aspect of Rawls’ theory.
Care and Justice
The care perspective was first identified by Carol Gilligan who argued that there are two moral voices: justice and care. Justice, the masculine approach to morality, focuses on universal abstract principles such as equality, impartiality, and universality. The classic justice perspective is Immanuel Kant’s categorical imperative. The categorical imperative asserts that we should act according to principles that we would want to be followed as universal laws. In other words, when I indentify the principle of a given act, I must ask whether I would want all people to follow that principle in all cases. If the answer is in the affirmative, then that is a morally justified act. If the answer is negative, then I should not act upon such principles. Read more »

By smallaxe
I taught Sunday School this past week, and in preparation I came across the following quote from the manual:
Elder James E. Faust said: “Private choices are not private; they all have public consequences. … Our society is the sum total of what millions of individuals do in their private lives. That sum total of private behavior has worldwide public consequences of enormous magnitude. There are no completely private choices” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1987, 101; or Ensign, May 1987, 80).
Unfortunately we never got around to discussing the quote during Sunday School. I also haven’t spent a lot of time learning theories of public/private distinctions (maybe Chris H. can help us out here). On the one hand I tend to believe that human beings are interconnected; and that our private beliefs/actions have public consequences. On the other hand I can see how such a position can lead to attempts from institutions such as the government (or church) to pervade every aspect of our lives in order to mitigate the public consequences (something I’m not such a fan of). I’m torn, so perhaps some of our readers can clarify the issue for me. Are there no private choices?

By Chris H.
Introduction
A feminist analysis of any major thinker or school of thought within the historical canon of political theory is bound to find many problems. This is surely the case when considering the social contract tradition and the most prominent modern thinkers within this tradition: Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacque Rousseau. To a certain extent these thinkers make many of the same mistakes that classical and other modern moral and political theorists made. First, women are often ignored as significant moral and political actors. Second, when given attention, women are often either disparaged or solely acknowledged for their reproductive function. Third, descriptions of human nature are often limited to “male” nature and fail to take into account elements of care as part of human nature.
Within the canon of political theory, only Plato and John Stuart Mill give due consideration to women and Mill’s writings are likely to only ones considered to be “feminist.” However, this should not lead us to dismiss all other thought between Plato and Mill. Instead, we must ask ourselves whether the theories proposed by theorists, such as Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau, can be adapted or corrected. Can the theories of these men be salvaged despite the sexism of their day? I am not one to give a free pass to any theorist because of their place and time. These are thinkers who sought to view the world and the state in different ways. Yet when it came to women, far too often they accepted the world around them.
In looking at the modern social contract theorists, we will see that they all have elements which a feminist can appreciate and draw from. Hobbes’ description of fear can be useful in understanding the actions of those living in a war-like domestic situation. Locke shows a certain respect for the natural rights of women. Rousseau’s account of pity in human nature shows an early appreciation for what contemporary feminists will call an element of care.
However, despite some of the strengths in these respective theories, the social contract approach itself makes it difficult to accept the weaknesses which they contain. All of these theories place a heavy emphasis on their description of human nature and it is in their description of human nature that we often find problems. Can any description of human nature that fails to take into account the fact that women are fully human be used as the basis of a moral and political theory? I do not think so, particularly when we consider that these thinkers have given such a central significance to their account of human nature. For this reason, we have to look elsewhere to find the best conception of political theory. Read more »

By Chris H.
I taught parts of Deuteronomy in my Sunday School class this past Sunday. The class is with high school juniors and seniors. They are a great group (and not just because I brought donuts today). During Priesthood I wrote down the following thought:
I was struck by much of what I read in Deuteronomy. However, I was particularly drawn into the treatment of wealth in Chapter 8.
The chapter starts with Moses reminding the Israelites of their humbling experiences, as well as the care that the Lord provided the in the wilderness.
In verses 7-9, Moses paints a picture of the promised land which awaits them. In verse 9 has says that this will a “land wherein thou shalt eat bread without scarceness, thou shalt not lack any thing in it…”
With it also being a “land of brooks of water” (v. 7) and “a land of oil olive, and honey,” Moses’ promised land sounds very similar to Rousseau’s depiction of nature. Read more »

By g.wesley
The reception history of Plato’s Republic has obviously been extensive, from Cicero’s De re publica . . . to Augustine’s De civitate Dei . . . to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings . . .
One of the passages of common interest, perhaps not as famous as, say, the Cave but still well known, is the Ship of State (488a and following). Socrates represents the city-state as a ship, the governance of which is disputed among those on board. The owner of the ship is said to be unlearned in navigation if also somewhat physically incapable. The sailors individually think they ought to be the one steering it but not only do they lack all training, they assert that the skill cannot be taught and go so far as to cut down anyone who says that it can. Disposing of rivals, they tie up the ship owner, so to speak, by drugging him, inebriating him, etc. Then they sail around consuming the supplies. The person who helps them best achieve their mutinous designs they honor as navigator, pilot, and knower of things pertaining to ships. Ignorant as they are of the astronomical and meteorological requirements for proper navigation, should there happen to be a competent person on board, they would think him crazy and useless.
In the context of the Republic, the Ship of State is among other things part of Socrates’ criticism of Athenian democracy and his defense of the type of true philosopher who would be in charge of the ideal city-state, the so-called philosopher-king with actual knowledge of the Good and who does not want to rule but does anyway because it is to the people’s advantage.
After successfully building and steering the ship that brought them to the promised land, Nephi reluctantly accepts the position of king over his people (2 Nephi 5:17; cf. Mosiah 23:6-13, 29:1-47; Alma 13:17-18; Ether 6:22-30). His competence in statecraft and future as regent is in fact foreshadowed in the episode that takes place on the ship. When he warns his brothers against revelry and forgetting “by what power they had been brought thither” while the voyage goes well, they get upset and say: “We will not that our younger brother shall be a ruler over us” (1 Nephi 18:9-10). With Nephi bound, his brothers see that they cannot steer the ship, as the Liahona stops functioning. It looks as though everyone on board will perish at sea, until Nephi is released and the compass begins to point the way again.
It has been suggested that Tolkien’s translation of old Hobbit records be read on a philosophical level, as an elaborate retelling of the Republic, centered around the Ring of Gyges (359a and following). To what extent, if at all, might the Book of Mormon be read along similar but more theological lines, opening with the Ship of State? Statecraft and warfare occupy not a few of its pages. There are righteous kings, tyrants, and judges. Nephi himself is no philosopher, of course. But he does ascend mountains, whether physical or spiritual, to contact God (the Good?) and thereby possesses knowledge (of shipbuilding, et cetera) that his brothers deny. The other prophets and kings in the Book of Mormon are not philosophers either, though they do contend with antichrist-sophists who say that might makes right and that it is impossible to know of anything outside the visible world. Despite its apparent references to America as the promised land, the Book of Mormon is not particularly democratic. In fact, the ideal form of government may be that of the prophet-king.

By Chris H.
Not sure if I hate the sin, but I hate this saying.
I have been thinking about the idea of autonomy developed by Immanuel Kant. For Kant, the thing which makes humans special (and deserving of dignity) is that they are able to choose for themselves their own conception of the good life. Not only can we choose a conception of the good life (the type of life we want to live), but we can revise that conception as life goes on.
As a philosopher, I should be able explain why this is the best argument. Not sure if I am up to that task. The best I can do for this post is to say that Kant’s view of autonomy and the good life expresses how I feel about freedom and morality better than anything else that I have read and contemplated.
This brings me to the underlying issue of the post: can one be a Mormon Kantian or a Kantian Mormon. I have briefly discussed this in a number of places with Russell Arben Fox and Nate Oman. Both think that it is not possible to reconcile Mormonism and Kantian liberalism. Well, guess what? I have decided that they are right (not on everything, just this point). However, this does not mean that I am no longer a Kantian. Also, it does not mean that I am no longer a Mormon. What is means is that I am no longer interested in justifying the existence of such thing as a theory of Kantian Mormonism (or Mormon Kantianism). I am a Kantian. I am a Mormon. Are these two aspects of my life a good fit? No. Do I care? Sort of. But it is who I am. Consistent? Nope. Authentic? Absolutely! This is what I have spent the last decade looking for and I think that I may have found it. Read more »

By Chris H.
I brought Lowell Bennion’s “Do Justly and Love Mercy: Moral Issues for Mormons” to church with me today, I got it for Christmas and I have wanted to take a closer glance. What I have discovered in reading Bennion is that his way of thinking closely mirrors mine. Well…sort of. He is clearly smarter, more articulate, and more faithful than me. However, his thought seems to reflect an engagement with the great moral and social thinkers of the Western cannon, particularly Aristotle and Kant. I find that Bennion provides a humanistic approach to Christianity and Mormonism that I have not found elsewhere.
I thought to myself this morning “I should start a series of posts on my thoughts about Bennion.” But, I have a number of things that I should be doing instead. However, things changed this afternoon, when I came across the following 2004 comment on Times and Seasons:
However, right up there I would put just about anything ever published by Lowell Bennion. And I feel really bad about that. By all accounts — including from several folks I know well and greatly respect — he was a wonderful person. He clearly had a huge impact on a great many people, but maybe it was exposure to him in person that made the difference. (I never met him.) I’ve also been told about his brilliance, his wonderful dissertation on Max Weber at Strasbourg, etc., etc. He has been characterized to me as one of the leading Mormon intellectuals of all time. But I just can’t see it. Everything I’ve ever read by him seemed, well, pedestrian.
I realize that he devoted much of his time and energy to charitable endeavors, to service and to teaching. And I have no doubt that that is choosing the better part. In hundreds of thousands of cases, the world would be better off if the wood used to produce books had been left in the forest and the time and energy of their authors had been devoted to charity, instead. But, while Brother Bennion may have been a saint, his writing leaves me, at least, entirely cold.
This got me a bit worked up. Brother Peterson may be an expert on ancient scripture and languages, but I get the feeling from the comment that he did not understand the purpose of Bennion’s intellectual project, or the connection between that project and his service and teaching.
Like Hugh Nibley or Leonard Arrington, I never knew Bennion. His son was President of Ricks College when I was a student there, but that was long before I knew of Lowell Bennion, a name I first encountered at the University of Utah, where the Service Learning center is named after him. Having worked in the social service sector in Utah, I am familiar with his reputation in the Salt Lake City-area non=profit community. However, my introduction to his work is much more recent. I think I may have found what I was looking for and I would like to investigate it with you here at FPR.
