Saturday, April 16, 2011

Hume on Causation

On Causation
Modern Philosophy, Winter 2011

According to David Hume, we can draw no firm conclusions about the nature of causation. Instead, we infer that one event causes another because the two events are constantly conjoined in our experience. However, to assume that one event causes another because the two are constantly conjoined in our experience is to commit a fallacy; correlation does not constitute causation. We have absolutely no basis for making claims about how events will affect one another in the future. One could say that our assumptions about the future have always worked in the past, but that is still not a statement about the future—it is a statement about the past. The future is unknowable, and it is impossible to posit causation for any event in our experience.

Suppose that I drop a rock into water and it sinks. Because of my past experience and my knowledge of science, I will assume that the rock sinks because of its weight, volume, and density. But this is not the only explanation. Perhaps the rock is sentient, and upon contact with water it wants to sink, and therefore makes the choice to do so. Perhaps the water itself is pulling and pushing on the rock, forcing it to sink. Or perhaps it sinks because God is controlling everything in the world and is causing the rock to sink [this is the Occasionalist philosophy of cosmology].

Furthermore, the mere fact that the rock I threw into the water a moment ago sank is no reason to assume that the next rock I throw into the water will, in fact, sink. Certainly every rock I have thrown into the water in the past has sunk, but this does not mean that the next one will. Perhaps it will float instead, or perhaps it will bounce off the water and float towards the heavens. In short, I have absolutely no knowledge of what the rock will do in the future until it has actually done it, in which case my knowledge is still not of the future, but of the past.
According to Hume, all of our assumptions about the world are not based on fact, but on habit and custom. Having observed events happening in a certain way, we assume that they always happen that way. For example, many years ago it was thought that all swans were white. Later black swans were discovered to exist in Australia. Obviously, our perceptions of the nature of reality can be flawed and mistaken, and are therefore not to be trusted. And the events inside our minds are no exception. My fingers move on my keyboard because I will them to—or do they? Is it not possible that my fingers are being moved by some other force, and that I only think that it is my will that moves them? Simply because my willing my fingers to move has, in the past, always resulted in them doing so is no reason to assume that the willing is what causes the motion. Our perceptions of causation are the result of what Hume calls “matters of fact”—synthetic a posteriori, or empirical, knowledge. Our knowledge of the past comes only after the past has happened. But this does not entitle us to infer synthetic a priori statements from a posteriori statements. We can only know things about what has passed. We cannot know anything about what is to come.

How does this affect how we are to operate in our daily lives? Obviously, we do not register surprise when objects behave as they always have in the past, because we expect them to behave as they always have as a result of our custom and habit. Hume's view is simply that if we are to be honest with ourselves, we must recognize that we cannot, in fact, make certain predictions about the future, but can only make statements about our past experience.

Cartesian Dialogue - Descartes' Ontological Argument

PHIL 202 Paper 1: Cartesian Dialogue January 25, 2011

Jack: Hey, Russell. What’s your position on the existence of God?

Russell: I don’t see any reason to believe in one. If God exists, why isn’t there any evidence of His existence?

Jack: The evidence isn’t physical, though. It’s inside you.

Russell: You’ve been reading Descartes, haven’t you?

Jack: Yes, and I think that he has a perfectly brilliant proof for the existence of God.

Russell: What’s that?

Jack: There are certain ideas that you just know are true, because they are so clear and distinct in your mind that you can’t doubt them. For example, you know you exist and can’t doubt that—right?

Russell: Yes, but what does that have to do with God?

Jack: Well, if there is a God, he would be perfect, right?

Russell: Yes, of course.

Jack: And can you imagine something that is perfect, and infinitely so?

Russell: Yes, I can imagine it.

Jack: That idea has to have come from somewhere, hasn’t it?

Russell: Yes—ex nihilo nihil fit

Jack: So the thing that caused this idea has to be as real as the idea itself. And you are not perfect; no one is. So you can’t be the source of this concept of infinite perfection. But the idea has to have come from somewhere—a source outside yourself. And the only thing that is infinitely perfect is God, and so God has to be the source of that idea.

Russell: Hmm… I think your reasoning is flawed.

Jack: How so?

Russell: Well, first of all, I think your terms are vague. I mean, “perfection” is just a hypothetical construct that isn’t defined very well. How would you define that?

Jack: I’d say that perfection is something that is complete and without any defects.

Russell: I can imagine those concepts quite well without needing God to explain them—I’ve seen things that are complete and free of defects before. And even if I hadn’t, I’d be able to extrapolate that concept from what I have experienced.

Jack: But I’m talking about an infinitely perfect substance.

Russell: Yeah, I don’t think that’s too hard to imagine. Just because I can imagine that something exists, doesn’t mean that it necessarily has to exist as I imagine it. I can composite ideas together or extrapolate from reality to imagine things that aren’t real.

Jack: But you can’t extrapolate a concept of a substance that is infinitely perfect from what you’ve experienced. You’ve never experienced infinite perfection.

Russell: But I can extrapolate those concepts. I’ve seen a line that’s finite, so it’s not hard to imagine one that just goes on forever. I’ve even experienced things that seem infinite—haven’t you ever been traveling across a large plain, and you can’t see the end of the road and it seems to go on forever? Even though the road isn’t actually infinite, it seems that way, and that’s what I think of when I imagine the concept of infinity.

Jack: Well, that doesn’t mean that God isn’t real.

Russell: You’re right—the mere fact that I’ve disproved one argument for God’s existence doesn’t in itself prove that God doesn’t exist. But you’ve got to admit that Descartes’ ontological proof for God doesn’t work.

Adventures in Linux and Other Miscellany

Well. It's been quite awhile since I last updated here; in the unlikely event that anyone reads this blog besides my mother (hi mom!) I shall give a rundown of what's happened in the last little while.
  • I'm officially going to school year round. It was one of the best decisions I've made, I think. Last semester I took two philosophy classes, which I absolutely loved. If they had a philosophy major here and I wasn't so far along in my history major, I might just switch majors. As it is, I'm thinking I might get a MA in philosophy once I've got my BA, and then possibly a PhD as well. And then I'll be a dusty old philosophy professor, and it will be great!
  • Towards the middle of last semester I deleted my Facebook account. First I just deactivated it, and then I deleted it for good. I'm so glad I did. I don't miss it at all--not one little bit. I highly doubt I'll ever touch Facebook again. Take that, Zuckerberg!
  • I now have a 10-hour-a-week job working as a TA for one of the professors in the history department. It's a nice job; I can pretty much set my own hours, it'll look good on a resumé, and I'm very happy to have work. I'm going to be very busy this semester with the job and the 17 credits I'm taking, but I don't really mind. I like to keep busy.
  • A couple weeks ago I switched my operating system from Windows XP to Ubuntu 10.04 Lucid Lynx (a Linux distribution). I absolutely love it. My computer runs faster, and there are tons of little things that totally spoil me. I have a program called GNOME Do that allows me to open programs from the keyboard--I just press Ctrl+Space and start typing the name of the program I want, and it usually only takes one letter to bring it up. A good friend of mine who's a computer programmer helped me switch it over, and I was afraid that it would take me a long time to figure out how to use it, but I was able to use it functionally right away, and I'm starting to get pretty good at customizing it. I have had a couple of mishaps. The first week I accidentally deleted the wifi widget and replaced it with the wrong one, and my friend (he's a saint, I swear) spent several hours helping me get that sorted out. During finals week I also discovered the hard way that Linux doesn't get along very well with Adobe Flash--it froze up my screen, I tried to reboot to fix it, and ended up with a black screen with (to me) incomprehensible white script. Fortunately that turned out to be relatively easy to fix (again with my friend's help). I now play Pandora using a program called Pithos (which I find amusing, since pithoi [singular pithos] were Greek funerary urns), and have adjusted my settings in YouTube so it won't cause that problem again. With the exception of those two mishaps, using Linux has been just lovely. I can do everything with it that I could with Windows and more. Additionally, Linux gives the user much more control over how the computer works. At this point that doesn't really mean a whole lot to me since I'm not terribly familiar with the inner workings of computers, but I'm teaching myself how to use the terminal so that I at least know enough to fix problems instead of causing them. ;)
So, for anyone who was wondering, there are a few highlights from the last few months. I might upload a few of my philosophy essays from last semester if I deem them fit to put on the Internet. Cheers!

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Reflections on Gender Roles and Domestic Violence

Today I came upon a very interesting video about domestic violence-- by women. It got me thinking. (A dangerous pastime, I know.)


In our culture, most boys are told at some point to "never hit a girl." Now, I stand behind that 100%, except for one thing-- why single out girls? Shouldn't all children be told simply, "don't hit"? It doesn't matter if it's a boy hitting a girl, or a girl hitting a boy, or girls hitting girls or boys hitting boys. Hitting is wrong, period.

How many of us have watched movies-- romantic comedies, dramas, etc.-- where a woman slaps a man for some reason? With the exception of self-defense, that strikes me as very wrong. Why is it that, as a society, we don't react the same way to women hurting men as we do to men hurting women?

In an earlier blog post I talked about feminism, and how it's often misconstrued to mean that women are better than men and maligned by people who don't understand it. I'll reiterate-- true feminism is simply the assertion that women and men are equal. Perhaps a more accurate term would be human-ism (although the word "humanist" is already used to mean other things). Feminism is important because women, historically, have often been treated as though they were less than full persons. But perhaps it is eve more important to emphasize that all human beings are equal. They all have innate human rights. And they all feel pain.

I'm not denying that men and women are possessed of different general propensities and predispositions; however, I have lately come to the conclusion that the cultural imposition of gender stereotypes is generally harmful. "Men are strong." Well, so are women. "Women are sweet and gentle." So are men. All these cultural stereotypes do is inhibit people-- humans-- from expressing the full range of their personalities. And, in the case of domestic violence, it can lead to the marginalization and downplaying of the suffering of fully half of the population. In our society, men aren't supposed to be so weak as to be able to get beat up by a woman.

The way I see it, the bottom line is that cultural gender stereotypes are damaging to people of both genders. Sure, men and women do have feminine and masculine qualities, but there's no need to impose them in the exaggerated way that our society does. If people are allowed to be who they really are in every respect, the world will be a better place-- where people don't hit other people, regardless of their gender.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Ever After: An Analysis

Spoiler alert: In this post I dissect one of my favorite movies. If you are one of those unfortunate souls who has not seen it, consider yourself warned that I'm going to give away a lot of the good stuff.

I wrote awhile back about one of my favorite novel adaptations of Cinderella, Just Ella. Well, as much as I love Margaret Haddix's retelling, my absolute favorite Cinderella retelling is the movie version Ever After. Aside from the fact that I was once told that I look like Drew Barrymore, I like Ever After because the protagonist is in possession of a spine. As you might have inferred from my previous posts, I tend to favor female characters with spines. Eowyn, Lucy Pevensie, and Mulan are some of my favorites. Docile protagonists bore me. And irritate me. Take Rapunzel, for example. She had that long hair for how long? And it never occurred to her that she might cut it off and climb out of the tower? Or Cinderella in the conventional retelling, whose primary virtue was being a doormat. Seriously, the girl was a wimp. In all fairness, Prince Charming was a bit of a spazz himself when he didn't notice that Cinderella's stepsisters had cut off chunks of their feet in order to fit into the glass slipper and a couple of doves had to inform him of the fact. Even so, one would think that if Cinderella had had half a brain she would have been able to figure out her own escape from her stepfamily, instead of having to wait for her fairy godmother to make everything better.

But back to Ever After. It's set in the real world, for one thing-- there's not an ounce of supernatural interference. It's set in France in the late 15th or early 16th century. For another, the protagonist doesn't have a stupid name like "Cinderella"-- it's Danielle. And for one more thing, there are numerous historical references in the movie. Thomas More's Utopia and Leonardo da Vinci (along with his Mona Lisa and several other of his delightful inventions) make an appearance-- in fact, at one point Danielle quotes Utopia in a rousing manner. But we will get to that. Let's get into the good stuff. :)

Danielle de Barbarac
As mentioned above, our protagonist has several advantageous possessions, including a spine and a brain. We first meet Danielle when she is ten years old. She very much a tomboy, regularly "whipping" the stable boy-- and getting covered in mud in the process. Her father, Auguste de Barbarac, travels frequently, but when he is home he reads to her from grown-up books. At the beginning of the movie, he presents Danielle with a copy of Thomas More's Utopia. Unfortunately, Danielle's father dies shortly after marrying the Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent. In this scene we begin to see the contrast between Danielle and her stepmother. Upon seeing her new husband dead, the Baroness wails, "You cannot leave me here!" However, the Baroness soon adjusts to her new environment. Her coping mechanism is control-- she domineers over everyone and everything. Her main goal in life is power, as we will see later on.

Since this is a Cinderella story, the Baroness reduces Danielle to the level of a bondservant. But Danielle retains her spunky character. At various points in the movie, she berates the Prince of France while throwing apples at him, poses as a noblewoman to save one of the De Barbarac bondmen, passionately quotes Utopia to Prince Henry, climbs a cliff in her underwear, and threatens to skewer the evil Pierre Le Pieu. In short, Danielle is a perfectly capable heroine who does not need saving of any kind.

Prince Henry of France
Prince Henry is a typical impetuous teenager. We first meet him when he runs away from home using-- cliche of cliches-- knotted bedsheets. Henry has no particular goals in life; his primary objective is to avoid the responsibilities of becoming king. He is aimless, insipid, and arrogant. He first meets Danielle in the courtyard of the royal palace. Danielle is in a heated argument with the driver of a prison cart containing the bondman Danielle has come to rescue. When Henry asks Danielle what her rationale is for saving an accused thief from punishments, she quotes Utopia at him: "If you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners corrupted from infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them-- then what is to be said, sire, except that ye first make thieves and then punish them?" Henry is blown away by Danielle and insists on knowing her identity. Since Danielle is not, in fact, a noblewoman, she tells Henry that she is the Countess Nicole de Lancre, expecting never to see him again. Henry is captivated, however, and takes up a full-time job as Danielle's stalker. Together they have a series of delightful adventures-- including a library, a broken carriage, and a caravan of gypsies-- and, since this is Hollywood, they fall in love. But more than falling in love, Henry is inspired by Danielle. He acquires a purpose in life. At one point Danielle says to him, "You have everything, and still the world holds no joy." Henry realizes that he has the power to improve the lives of his subjects, and resolves to do so. If anyone is saved in Ever After, it is Prince Henry. Danielle saves him from a life of apathy and helps him to find purpose.

The Rescue
Unfortunately, Prince Henry eventually discovers that he has fallen in love with a commoner and rejects Danielle-- after she has been through hell to see him, no less. With his newfound self-assurance, he informs her: "I am the Prince of France, and you are a servant." Henry proceeds with his previously arranged marriage to a Spanish princess, and the Baroness de Ghent sells Danielle to the lecherous Pierre Le Pieu. Fortunately, Henry chickens out of the marriage when the Spanish princess bursts into tearful hysterics at the altar. At this point we expect Henry to run to Danielle's rescue, and rush he does. Danielle doesn't need it, however. Before Henry makes it to Monsieur Le Pieu's manor, Danielle has freed herself at sabre-point and is strolling on her way.

At this point the two reconcile and live (presumably) happily ever after. But there is a lot to think about in this movie. Who did the real rescuing here? As I mentioned above, I am of the opinion that Danielle saves Prince Henry from a life of apathetic stuck-up-ness. That's why I'm so fond of this movie. It's funny, it's romantic, and the heroine is a real heroine, not a prize for the prince who can slay the dragon.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

On Political Parties: Why a proportional representation electoral system is worth considering


Frankly, few things annoy me more than Democrats. Except for Republicans, of course. The United States' current state of political affairs is a paradoxical one-- it is divided between two strikingly similar political parties. No matter which party happens to be in power, they never fail to screw things up. There is little challenge to these two behemoths of politics, and I see that as a definite problem. Allow me to explain.

Exhibit A: Political ATTITUDES

Political attitudes are relative things. There are four basic political attitudes: liberal, conservative, radical, and reactionary.

Radicals and reactionaries are the easiest to understand, and while they are polar opposites in one sense, they are strikingly similar in another. Both want their way, and they want it NOW. A reactionary wants to reorganize the existing political regime into the way it was in the past-- for example, a person who wanted to go back to the Roman Monarchy's state of affairs during the Roman Republic would have been a reactionary. A radical also wants change-- forward change. By "forward" I mean change to some kind of state of affairs that is "new," that has not yet been tried. So Maximilien Robespierre of the French revolution was a radical. What characterizes reactionaries and radicals is their methods. Both tend to favor violence and upheaval-- they often employ political tools such as terrorism and coup d'etat. This makes them extraordinarily similar. Their main difference is what exactly they want to change to. Of course, some radicals and reactionaries are nonviolent, but still radical or reactionary. Some examples include civil disobedience leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. Both wanted fairly immediate change (both radical), but chose to use tools such as boycotts, sit-ins, and other forms of civil disobedience, rather than the more violent methods traditionally used by people who want immediate change.

The Boston Tea Party: 18th-century American radicals

The American Tea Party Movement: 21st-century American reactionaries

For the more mild-mannered individuals, there are two other political attitudes: liberal and conservative. Liberals are a bit like radicals in that they also want the state of affairs to change to something new, but they are more realistic and support gradual, nonviolent change. Conservatives are different from the other three attitudes in that they don't want any change at all-- forward or backward. They are related to reactionaries, though, in the sense that one way of looking at a reactionary is as a conservative who didn't get her way. Conservatives are all about the status quo, and reactionaries want to go back to a former status quo.

So you see, political attitude is relative to the status quo. The US Founding Fathers tended to be liberals, until they realized that dear King George III was so implacable that the only way they were going to get what they wanted was through a more radical course of action-- namely, revolution. On the other hand, someone who wanted to go back to the status quo of, say, 1815, would be a reactionary (even though in 1776 many of the ideals of 1815 were liberal or radical).

Exhibit B: Political PARTIES

Political parties are organizations within a country that are trying to achieve certain political goals. The number of dominant parties varies widely from country to country-- from communist Russia, where there was only one party in power (this party considered itself to be the "vanguard of the proletariat"; see previous blog post), to the US, where there are two dominant parties, to places like Canada and the UK, where there are three or more.

The two dominant parties in the US are the Republicans and the Democrats. The Republican party tends to be more conservative while the Democrats are more liberal, but that is not a matter of definition and it has not always been that way. In the 19th century, the Republican party was the more liberal, progressive one, because it favored (among other things) the abolition of slavery. Both parties have evolved over time. They are not ideologies; they are organizations.

In fact, it is common for a party to be conservative on some issues and liberal on others (radical and reactionary attitudes tend to be quite rare in political parties, for reasons I'll talk about momentarily). For example, a party could favor conservative domestic policy and progressive foreign policy, or vice versa.

Because of the way the US representational and electoral systems work, the two dominant parties are the way to control politics. Since the US is democratic/republican in nature ("democratic" serves as a general term meaning that the demos-- the people-- are in charge of things, and "republican" is a more technical term referring to the specific system of government), the parties have to cater to the people. Since they want to attract the largest base of people possible, they tend to be more moderate in nature-- liberal or conservative. Radical or reactionary platforms tend to strongly attract a small segment of the population while alienating the rest. This is why the Democrat and Republican parties tend to be so similar, and why independent-thinking American voters often feel as if their electoral choices aren't really choices at all.


Exhibit C: Electoral Systems

The number of dominant political parties in a country is intimately tied to its electoral system. The US has a majoritarian electoral system-- meaning that whichever party wins an election gets all of the electors in the electoral college. The alternative is a proportional-representation system (often referred to as PR), which means that seats are apportioned based on proportions. Any party that can get more than a certain percentage of the vote-- usually 2%-- gets the same percentage of seats that they got of the vote. Personally, a PR electoral system makes a lot more sense to me.

Firstly, it eliminates the dual-party monopoly on politics. Voters don't feel that they are "wasting" their vote if they vote for, say, a Libertarian or a Green party candidate.

Secondly, it allows for more accurate representation of the demographic. The US is an especially diverse nation culturally, ethnically, religiously, ideologically-- any way you slice the pie. PR representation allows these differences to be more accurately represented. Minorities don't get trampled on by the majority.

Thirdly, the more diversity there is among government representatives, the harder it will be for them to get anything done. By that, I mean that they have to compromise more. It is a lot harder for any one party to get control of the representative body. Parties often have to form coalitions in order to get any kind of a majority, which means that they have to debate more, argue more, compromise more, sacrifice more. All this takes time. All this involves dropping more extreme ideas. The more time the government spends arguing among itself, the less time it has to mess with the people's business. It is limited to doing those government jobs that are more noncontroversial, that don't step on people's rights, because it is so difficult for them to effect change in the governmental infrastructure. There is always going to be somebody who disagrees. It seems to me that all this would keep the government busy among itself, and out of the people's business.

Peroratio: Sententia

It is my opinion that political parties are basically useless. Unfortunately, the US's majoritarian electoral system means that it is virtually impossible for third parties to get anything done. The Democratic and Republican parties remind me of a king on his throne, complacent in his power. Both parties need a rude awakening-- let's get the Libertarian party, the Green party, the Constitution party, and all the others upsetting the monopoly of power that the two big parties currently hold. How this might be accomplished is quite complicated, though, even in theory (and practice always seems to be more complicated than theory). Many countries that use PR also have a parliamentary system of government, which may not be the best idea for the US. In any case, though, it seems apparent to me that the US government has become destructive of the ends for which it was created-- namely the protection of inalienable rights. Given that, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish the government. Abolition seems a bit extreme to me, but some alteration may be in order. Since, in my view, the principal problem the US faces in terms of good government is political parties, whatever solution is employed ought to diffuse the power of political parties so that Americans are accurately represented ideologically, instead of having two enormous and mostly irrelevant parties running things to nobody's satisfaction.


Sunday, June 20, 2010

Advocatus Diaboli: Communism

In my political science class, we recently discussed communism. It was very interesting; I was surprised to find that I did not know nearly as much about Karl Marx's theory as I thought I did.

Marx viewed history as the constant struggle between oppressor and oppressed. In the ancient world, we find the master and the slave. By the Middle Ages, society had moved on to feudalism-- lords and serfs (serfs were different from slaves in that they were bound to the land of an estate, while slaves were considered the property of a given person). When the burgher class of the Middle Ages overthrew feudalism, the lord-serf dichotomy was replaced by that that exists between the two modern classes: the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. The etymology of the word "bourgeoisie" is French in origin, and can be traced to burgeis or bourjois (town dweller), which are related to the English variant, "burgher." In the Middle Ages, the burghers developed as a class that didn't really fit into the conventional feudal order of lords, vassals and serfs. Mainly comprised of merchants and other non-farming types, they represented a shift from agrarian culture (which was a result of the unstable culture of Late Antiquity and the early Merovingian era of the Middle Ages) towards a more town-based society. Burghers were commonly younger sons of feudal lords who were forced to make a living on their own, as they would not inherit the lord's estate.

A depiction of medieval feudalism


Over time, a town-based burgher class evolved. This would eventually become the bourgeoisie of capitalism.

According to the Marxist view of history, the bourgeoisie eventually acquired sufficient education, influence and capital to overthrow the existing feudal regime and replace it with a new economic system-- capitalism. Capitalism was no better than the preceding economic systems in that it still entailed exploitation of the lower class-- the proletariat. The main difference between capitalism and feudalism was that capitalism seemed to allow the lower classes some say in their destiny and position in society. This delusion was called "false consciousness." In reality, the proletariat was just as oppressed as serfs had been under feudalism.


Above and below: The proletariat of the 19th Century.



Since Marx saw history as an inevitable historical evolution of the relationship between oppressor and oppressed, he hypothesized that when capitalism had reached its highest level of development (or, to put it another way, its highest level of exploitation of the proletariat), the proletariat would break out of their false consciousness and overthrow the bourgeois regime. A brief period would ensue that Marx called the "dictatorship of the proletariat." The government would quickly collapse, however, thrusting society into a perpetual communist utopia.

Marx's view of communism did not work in the same way that it has been practiced in places like the Soviet Union and China. He saw communism as a natural phenomenon that would work in a similar fashion to the "invisible hand" of capitalism-- no centralized controlling body would be needed. This would work because Marx saw human nature as innately good. He believed that all people wanted to live in peace and harmony, and that if only the oppressive class (the bourgeoisie) could be eliminated, there would be no impediment to perpetual utopia.

Taking this into consideration, communism has never been practiced in the world (at least as far as we know). The major difference is that countries that became communist in the 20th century were, for the most part, not developed, and in some places not even capitalistic. The communist revolution was led by a small group of elites, called the "Vanguard of the Proletariat," which was supposedly acting on behalf of the common people. Since the proletariat did not initiate the revolution, Marx would likely have said that communism as practiced in the 20th century was not really communism at all, but just another incidence of one class oppressing another.

As a result of what I have just outlined, there are some interesting questions for the political theorist to consider. Is Marxist communism a discredited ideology, or is it something that could potentially happen in the future (the most likely candidates for Marxist communism would, in fact, be developed, capitalistic democracies such as the United States and some countries of Europe)? Is communism, and the view of human nature that it assumes, consistent with human nature as it really is?

The conventional view of socialism (as conceived by political theorists such as Frederic Bastiat) is that it is a transitional phase that leads to communism. On the other hand, many modern political theorists have put forward the idea that becoming socialist is the best way to avoid becoming communist, because socialism addresses problems of inequality while still maintaining, to some extent, institutions such as capitalism and democracy. At its simplest, communism was the hypothetical embodiment of ideals like equality, justice and fairness. Stated communist aims included abolition of child labor and equal rights for women. Since many communist aims have now been achieved without actually implementing communism, one could argue that communism is not necessary to solve the very real problems that Marx saw with capitalism.

In short, the modern popular view of communism is somewhat incomplete. The only experience the world has with communism is the perhaps counterfeit version created by people like Mao and Lenin. The question of the merit of communism as envisioned by Marx remains to be answered definitively.


A communist party.