Socrates: Wisdom vs. Knowledge

“I know that I know nothing” — Socrates

Steven Gambardella · Apr 25 · Medium.com

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Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash

Philosophy isn’t a body of knowledge, it’s an activity.

To philosophise isn’t about spinning theories or explanations for things, it’s to reflect on the very structure of our knowledge – our own knowledge, and the collective knowledge.

It’s a way of keeping a discipline of thought: to not be gullible, to not be lazy or indulgent in our thoughts and actions.

In the modern world, philosophy is a practice that has largely retreated into academia. It’s associated with dense jargon and horrible writing. But that’s not to say there’s anything wrong with academic philosophers per se.

In many ways academic philosophers are like haute couture designers: their ideas, while seeming far out when debuting on the runway, will make it to the street in due course.

The bureaucracy of academia, which rewards original research, means that talented philosophers are forced to write jargon-filled articles and books to increase their citation counts.

It’s an industry of knowledge, with industrial levels of output. Most academic philosophers never come up with anything truly original at all, but the fundamental ideas still arise. Academic philosophy is productive, it’s just inefficient. You’ll find needles of wisdom in those haystacks of knowledge.

In the ancient world, very few philosophers were professional in the way they are now. They may have had day jobs, or were lucky enough to not need to work either through family wealth or patronage.

They may have founded their own schools too and doing as such would have made them more like entrepreneurs than the tenured academics of today. Many academics would seethe at that last sentence, but I’ll stand by it.

There was no “industry” of academia: no colleges, journals, specialist publishers or conferences. Philosophers were poorer, but unburdened by having to deal with all the distractions that come with a profession.

The over-complicated industry of academic philosophy is why people flock to the ancient writers rather than contemporary philosophers. The ancients are truer to the purpose of philosophy: a practice of wisdom, as opposed to a body of knowledge.

Socrates was the philosopher who initiated this definition. Philosophers like Pythagoras and Heraclitus before him resembled what we’d call scientists now. Their work was about the world and mathematics. They were working with a kind of speculative knowledge: why are we here? Why do things change? What is the world made of?

Socrates’s “work” was wholly concerned with how people ought to live their lives. His speculations were based on ideas themselves rather than things like the world, geometry or the elements.

But Socrates never told anybody how to conduct their affairs. Instead, he questioned their beliefs and motives. If people’s beliefs and motives did not stand up to reason it was plainly evident from the cross-examination Socrates put them through.

Socrates emerged as a philosophical sensation in Athens at a time of crisis. Athens had lost a long war with its arch rival Sparta. The defeat was the end of Athens as an ancient superpower. The Spartans installed a puppet government in Athens known as the “Thirty Tyrants”, their short but bloody rule humiliated the world’s first democracy. Imagine Russia winning the Cold War and installing a Stasi in the United States.

Despite coming from a humble background (the philosopher was a stonemason by profession), Socrates was well-known in Athenian society. He was a decorated war hero, but also an eccentric character who proved to be a nuisance to the authorities. It may have well been his record for bravery in battle that made him a public figure to be listened to.

The philosopher was lampooned a number of times in the plays of Aristophanes. These were big public events; it was the ancient equivalent of being lampooned on Saturday Night Live. Actually, it’s worse than that, people still put on the plays of Aristophanes so Socrates has been mocked for thousands of years.

It is the years after Athens’ disastrous defeat in the Peloponnesian war with Sparta that Socrates was taken seriously, to the extent that he was put to death on the charge of corrupting the youth.

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The ruins of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. (Photo by Skyring. Source: Wikipedia. CC BY-SA 4.0)

The Oracle of Delphi

How did it come to that? In a bizarre turn of events, Socrates’s eccentric behaviour suddenly became a moral mission when it was seemingly validated by the gods.

The ancient Greeks took oracles very seriously. The belief was that the gods communicated through priests in sacred places. The most sacred place was Delphi, the Ancient Greek equivalent of Rome, Jerusalem or Mecca.

People made visits to the Oracle of Delphi seeking sacred knowledge. The Oracle at Delphi made it known that there was no man wiser than Socrates. This surprised everyone, including Socrates himself.

Confused by the pronouncement of the Oracle, The philosopher decided to find out for himself what made him so wise. He spoke to men known to be wise from all walks of life from religious experts to politicians. In his examinations he found that those men were no wiser than he was about anything of importance.

By his own admission during his trial, Socrates discovered that what made him so wise was his admission that he knew so little. While the men he spoke to were haughty, smug and close-minded by their own sense of authority, Socrates was open-minded and curious.

He would continually question experts to show up their own ignorance. This gained him many powerful enemies. Socrates found himself entangled in the political turmoil in Athens in the wake of its defeat to Sparta.

Socrates was respected as a warrior on the battlefield, but hated as an enemy of the state for his war on arrogance.

Knowledge can deliver us great careers, wealth and popularity. Wisdom can kill all of that: Socrates embraced a life of poverty so that he may continue on his philosophical quest to understand what good is. He believed his mission forbade him from charging money for his teaching.

He had nothing to teach, after all: only the will to challenge received knowledge. The philosopher was liked and scorned in equal measure. But wisdom gave Socrates a superpower: happiness. People marvelled at his resilience, his cheerfulness in the face of the worst possible adversities.

Michel de Montaigne famously wrote “that to philosophise is to learn to die” — in other words how we accept death is a measure of our wisdom. Socrates took death with a calm poise. At his execution, he cheerfully comforted his own followers, who wept uncontrollably.

This is the kind of happiness everyone is looking for. We cannot achieve that kind of happiness by knowing anything in particular. I can learn everything about how serotonin works in the brain, it won’t necessarily make me happy. I can learn how to make millions, that won’t do the trick either.

But I can admit to how much I don’t know, accept my limits and my shortfalls. That in itself is a good start. The path to wisdom is to “know thyself” according to the maxim carved on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.

If we fully accept — and take responsibility for — the limits of our knowledge, we can make better decisions and understand ourselves better. Expertise has its practical uses, but what use is expertise in matters of the spirit?

Thank you for reading.

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“Truth” Drugs in Interrogation

APPROVED FOR RELEASE
CIA HISTORICAL REVIEW PROGRAM
22 SEPT 93 (cia.gov)

Effects of narcosis and considerations relevant to its possible counterintelligence use.

“TRUTH” DRUGS IN INTERROGATION

George Bimmerle

The search for effective aids to interrogation is probably as old as man’s need to obtain information from an uncooperative source and as persistent as his impatience to shortcut any tortuous path. In the annals of police investigation, physical coercion has at times been substituted for painstaking and time-consuming inquiry in the belief that direct methods produce quick results. Sir James Stephens, writing in 1883, rationalizes a grisly example of “third degree” practices by the police of India: “It is far pleasanter to sit comfortably in the shade rubbing red pepper in a poor devil’s eyes than to go about in the sun hunting up evidence.”

More recently, police officials in some countries have turned to drugs for assistance in extracting confessions from accused persons, drugs which are presumed to relax the individual’s defenses to the point that he unknowingly reveals truths he has been trying to conceal. This investigative technique, however humanitarian as an alternative to physical torture, still raises serious questions of individual rights and liberties. In this country, where drugs have gained only marginal acceptance in police work, their use has provoked cries of “psychological third degree” and has precipitated medico-legal controversies that after a quarter of a century still occasionally flare into the open.

The use of so-called “truth” drugs in police work is similar to the accepted psychiatric practice of narco-analysis; the difference in the two procedures lies in their different objectives. The police investigator is concerned with empirical truth that may be used against the suspect, and therefore almost solely with probative truth: the usefulness of the suspect’s revelations depends ultimately on their acceptance in evidence by a court of law. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, using the same “truth” drugs in diagnosis and treatment of the mentally ill, is primarily concerned with psychological truth or psychological reality rather than empirical fact. A patient’s aberrations are reality for him at the time they occur, and an accurate account of these fantasies and delusions, rather than reliable recollection of past events, can be the key to recovery.

The notion of drugs capable of illuminating hidden recesses of the mind, helping to heal the mentally ill and preventing or reversing the miscarriage of justice, has provided an exceedingly durable theme for the press and popular literature. While acknowledging that “truth serum” is a misnomer twice over — the drugs are not sera and they do not necessarily bring forth probative truth — journalistic accounts continue to exploit the appeal of the term. The formula is to play up a few spectacular “truth” drug successes and to imply that the drugs are more maligned than need be and more widely employed in criminal investigation than can officially be admitted.

Any technique that promises an increment of success in extracting information from an uncompliant source is ipso facto of interest in intelligence operations. If the ethical considerations which in Western countries inhibit the use of narco-interrogation in police work are felt also in intelligence, the Western services must at least be prepared against its possible employment by the adversary. An understanding of “truth” drugs, their characteristic actions, and their potentialities, positive and negative, for eliciting useful information is fundamental to an adequate defense against them.

This discussion, meant to help toward such an understanding, draws primarily upon openly published materials. It has the limitations of projecting from criminal investigative practices and from the permissive atmosphere of drug psychotherapy.

Scopolamine as “Truth Serum”

Early in this century physicians began to employ scopolamine, along with morphine and chloroform, to induce a state of “twilight sleep” during childbirth. A constituent of henbane, scopolamine was known to produce sedation and drowsiness, confusion and disorientation, incoordination, and amnesia for events experienced during intoxication. Yet physicians noted that women in twilight sleep answered questions accurately and often volunteered exceedingly candid remarks.

In 1922 it occurred to Robert House, a Dallas, Texas, obstetrician, that a similar technique might be employed in the interrogation of suspected criminals, and he arranged to interview under scopolamine two prisoners in the Dallas county jail whose guilt seemed clearly confirmed. Under the drug, both men denied the charges on which they were held; and both, upon trial, were found not guilty. Enthusiastic at this success, House concluded that a patient under the influence of scopolamine “cannot create a lie … and there is no power to think or reason.”14 His experiment and this conclusion attracted wide attention, and the idea of a “truth” drug was thus launched upon the public consciousness.

The phrase “truth serum” is believed to have appeared first in a news report of House’s experiment in the Los Angeles Record, sometime in 1922. House resisted the term for a while but eventually came to employ it regularly himself. He published some eleven articles on scopolamine in the years 1921-1929, with a noticeable increase in polemical zeal as time went on. What had begun as something of a scientific statement turned finally into a dedicated crusade by the “father of truth serum” on behalf of his offspring, wherein he was “grossly indulgent of its wayward behavior and stubbornly proud of its minor achievements.”11

Only a handful of cases in which scopolamine was used for police interrogation came to public notice, though there is evidence suggesting that some police forces may have used it extensively. 216 One police writer claims that the threat of scopolamine interrogation has been effective in extracting confessions from criminal suspects, who are told they will first be rendered unconscious by chloral hydrate placed covertly in their coffee or drinking water.16

Because of a number of undesirable side effects, scopolamine was shortly disqualified as a “truth” drug. Among the most disabling of the side effects are hallucinations, disturbed perception, somnolence, and physiological phenomena such as headache, rapid heart, and blurred vision, which distract the subject from the central purpose of the interview. Furthermore, the physical action is long, far outlasting the psychological effects. Scopolomine continues, in some cases, to make anesthesia and surgery safer by drying the mouth and throat and reducing secretions that might obstruct the air passages. But the fantastically, almost painfully, dry “desert” mouth brought on by the drug is hardly conducive to free talking, even in a tractable subject.

The Barbiturates

The first suggestion that drugs might facilitate communication with emotionally disturbed patients came quite by accident in 1916. Arthur S. Lovenhart and his associates at the University of Wisconsin, experimenting with respiratory stimulants, were surprised when, after an injection of sodium cyanide, a catatonic patient who had long been mute and rigid suddenly relaxed, opened his eyes, and even answered a few questions. By the early 1930’s a number of psychiatrists were experimenting with drugs as an adjunct to established methods of therapy.

At about this time police officials, still attracted by the possibility that drugs might help in the interrogation of suspects and witnesses, turned to a class of depressant drugs known as the barbiturates. By 1935 Clarence W. Muehlberger, head of the Michigan Crime Detection Laboratory at East Lansing, was using barbiturates on reluctant suspects, though police work continued to be hampered by the courts’ rejection of drug-induced confessions except in a few carefully circumscribed instances.

The barbiturates, first synthesized in 1903, are among the oldest of modern drugs and the most versatile of all depressants. In this half-century some 2,500 have been prepared, and about two dozen of these have won an important place in medicine. An estimated three to four billion doses of barbiturates are prescribed by physicians in the United States each year, and they have come to be known by a variety of commercial names and colorful slang expressions: “goofballs,” Luminal, Nembutal, “red devils,” “yellow jackets,” “pink ladies,” etc. Three of them which are used in narcoanalysis and have seen service as “truth” drugs are sodium amytal (amobarbital), pentothal sodium (thiopental), and to a lesser extent seconal (secobarbital).

As with most drugs, little is known about the way barbiturates work or exactly how their action is related to their chemistry. But a great deal is known about the action itself. They can produce the entire range of depressant effects from mild sedation to deep anesthesia — and death. In small doses they are sedatives acting to reduce anxiety and responsiveness to stressful situations; in these low doses, the drugs have been used in the treatment of many diseases, including peptic ulcer, high blood pressure, and various psychogenic disorders. At three to five times the sedative dose the same barbiturates are hypnotics and induce sleep or unconsciousness from which the subject can be aroused. In larger doses a barbiturate acts as an anesthetic, depressing the central nervous system as completely as a gaseous anesthetic does. In even larger doses barbiturates cause death by stopping respiration.

The barbiturates affect higher brain centers generally. The cerebral cortex — that region of the cerebrum commonly thought to be of the most recent evolutionary development and the center of the most complex mental activities — seems to yield first to the disturbance of nerve-tissue function brought about by the drugs. Actually, there is reason to believe that the drugs depress cell function without discrimination and that their selective action on the higher brain centers is due to the intricate functional relationship of cells in the central nervous system. Where there are chains of interdependent cells, the drugs appear to have their most pronounced effects on the most complex chains, those controlling the most “human” functions.

The lowest doses of barbiturates impair the functioning of the cerebral cortex by disabling the ascending (sensory) circuits of the nervous system. This occurs early in the sedation stage and has a calming effect not unlike a drink or two after dinner. The subject is less responsive to stimuli. At higher dosages, the cortex no longer actively integrates information, and the cerebellum, the “lesser brain” sometimes called the great modulator of nervous function, ceases to perform as a control box. It no longer compares cerebral output with input, no longer informs the cerebrum command centers of necessary corrections, and fails to generate correcting command signals itself. The subject may become hyperactive, may thrash about. At this stage consciousness is lost and coma follows. The subject no longer responds even to noxious stimuli, and cannot be roused. Finally, in the last stage, respiration ceases. 1028

As one pharmacologist explains it, a subject coming under the influence of a barbiturate injected intravenously goes through all the stages of progressive drunkenness, but the time scale is on the order of minutes instead of hours. Outwardly the sedation effect is dramatic, especially if the subject is a psychiatric patient in tension. His features slacken, his body relaxes. Some people are momentarily excited; a few become silly and giggly. This usually passes, and most subjects fall asleep, emerging later in disoriented semi-wakefulness.

The descent into narcosis and beyond with progressively larger doses can be divided as follows

I. Sedative Stage

II. Unconsciousness, with exaggerated reflexes (hyperactive stage).

III. Unconsciousness, without reflex even to painful stimuli.

IV. Death.

Whether all these stages can be distinguished in any given subject depends largely on the dose and the rapidity with which the drug is induced. In anesthesia, stages I and II may last only two or three seconds.

The first or sedative stage can be further divided:

Plane 1. No evident effect, or slight sedative effect.

Plane 2. Cloudiness, calmness, amnesia. (Upon recovery, the subject will not remember what happened at this or “lower” planes or stages.)

Plane 3. Slurred speech, old thought patterns disrupted, inability to integrate or learn new patterns. Poor coordination. Subject becomes unaware of painful stimuli.

Plane 3 is the psychiatric “work” stage. It may last only a few minutes, but it can be extended by further slow injection of the drug. The usual practice is to bring the subject quickly to Stage II and to conduct the interview as he passes back into the sedative stage on the way to full consciousness.

Clinical and Experimental Studies

The general abhorrence in Western countries for the use of chemical agents “to make people do things against their will” has precluded serious systematic study (at least as published openly) of the potentialities of drugs for interrogation. Louis A. Gottschalk, surveying their use in information-seeking interviews,13 cites 136 references; but only two touch upon the extraction of intelligence information, and one of these concludes merely that Russian techniques in interrogation and indoctrination are derived from age-old police methods and do not depend on the use of drugs. On the validity of confessions obtained with drugs, Gottschalk found only three published experimental studies that he deemed worth reporting.

One of these reported experiments by D. P. Morris in which intravenous sodium amytal was helpful in detecting malingerers.22 The subjects, soldiers, were at first sullen, negativistic, and non-productive under amytal, but as the interview proceeded they revealed the fact of and causes for their malingering. Usually the interviews turned up a neurotic or psychotic basis for the deception.

The other two confession studies, being more relevant to the highly specialized, untouched area of drugs in intelligence interrogation, deserve more detailed review.

Gerson and Victoroff12 conducted amytal interviews with 17 neuropsychiatric patients, soldiers who had charges against them, at Tilton General Hospital, Fort Dix. First they were interviewed without amytal by a psychiatrist, who, neither ignoring nor stressing their situation as prisoners or suspects under scrutiny, urged each of them to discuss his social and family background, his army career, and his version of the charges pending against him.

The patients were told only a few minutes in advance that narcoanalysis would be performed. The doctor was considerate, but positive and forthright. He indicated that they had no choice but to submit to the procedure. Their attitudes varied from unquestioning compliance to downright refusal.

Each patient was brought to complete narcosis and permitted to sleep. As he became semiconscious and could be stimulated to speak, he was held in this stage with additional amytal while the questioning proceeded. He was questioned first about innocuous matters from his background that he had discussed before receiving the drug. Whenever possible, he was manipulated into bringing up himself the charges pending against him before being questioned about them. If he did this in a too fully conscious state, it proved more effective to ask him to “talk about that later” and to interpose a topic that would diminish suspicion, delaying the interrogation on his criminal activity until he was back in the proper stage of narcosis.

The procedure differed from therapeutic narcoanalysis in several ways: the setting, the type of patients, and the kind of “truth” sought. Also, the subjects were kept in twilight consciousness longer than usual. This state proved richest in yield of admissions prejudicial to the subject. In it his speech was thick, mumbling, and disconnected, but his discretion was markedly reduced. This valuable interrogation period, lasting only five to ten minutes at a time, could be reinduced by injecting more amytal and putting the patient back to sleep.

The interrogation technique varied from case to case according to background information about the patient, the seriousness of the charges, the patient’s attitude under narcosis, and his rapport with the doctor. Sometimes it was useful to pretend, as the patient grew more fully conscious, that he had already confessed during the amnestic period of the interrogation, and to urge him, while his memory and sense of self-protection were still limited, to continue to elaborate the details of what he had “already described.” When it was obvious that a subject was withholding the truth, his denials were quickly passed over and ignored, and the key questions would be reworded in a new approach.

Several patients revealed fantasies, fears, and delusions approaching delirium, much of which could readily be distinguished from reality. But sometimes there was no way for the examiner to distinguish truth from fantasy except by reference to other sources. One subject claimed to have a child that did not exist, another threatened to kill on sight a stepfather who had been dead a year, and yet another confessed to participating in a robbery when in fact he had only purchased goods from the participants. Testimony concerning dates and specific places was untrustworthy and often contradictory because of the patient’s loss of time-sense. His veracity in citing names and events proved questionable. Because of his confusion about actual events and what he thought or feared had happened, the patient at times managed to conceal the truth unintentionally.

As the subject revived, he would become aware that he was being questioned about his secrets and, depending upon his personality, his fear of discovery, or the degree of his disillusionment with the doctor, grow negativistic, hostile, or physically aggressive. Occasionally patients had to be forcibly restrained during this period to prevent injury to themselves or others as the doctor continued to interrogate. Some patients, moved by fierce and diffuse anger, the assumption that they had already been tricked into confessing, and a still limited sense of discretion, defiantly acknowledged their guilt and challenged the observer to “do something about it.” As the excitement passed, some fell back on their original stories and others verified the confessed material. During the follow-up interview nine of the 17 admitted the validity of their confessions; eight repudiated their confessions and reaffirmed their earlier accounts.

With respect to the reliability of the results of such interrogation, Gerson and Victoroff conclude that persistent, careful questioning can reduce ambiguities in drug interrogation, but cannot eliminate them altogether.

At least one experiment has shown that subjects are capable of maintaining a lie while under the influence of a barbiturate. Redlich and his associates at Yale25 administered sodium amytal to nine volunteers, students and professionals, who had previously, for purposes of the experiment, revealed shameful and guilt-producing episodes of their past and then invented false self-protective stories to cover them. In nearly every case the cover story retained some elements of the guilt inherent in the true story.

Under the influence of the drug, the subjects were cross-examined on their cover stories by a second investigator. The results, though not definitive, showed that normal individuals who had good defenses and no overt pathological traits could stick to their invented stories and refuse confession. Neurotic individuals with strong unconscious self-punitive tendencies, on the other hand, both confessed more easily and were inclined to substitute fantasy for the truth, confessing to offenses never actually committed.

In recent years drug therapy has made some use of stimulants, most notably amphetamine (Benzedrine) and its relative methamphetamine (Methedrine). These drugs, used either alone or following intravenous barbiturates, produce an outpouring of ideas, emotions, and memories which has been of help in diagnosing mental disorders. The potential of stimulants in interrogation has received little attention, unless in unpublished work. In one study of their psychiatric use Brussel et al. 7 maintain that methedrine gives the liar no time to think or to organize his deceptions. Once the drug takes hold, they say, an insurmountable urge to pour out speech traps the malingerer. Gottschalk, on the other hand, says that this claim is extravagant, asserting without elaboration that the study lacked proper controls.13 It is evident that the combined use of barbiturates and stimulants, perhaps along with ataraxics (tranquillizers), should be further explored.

Observations from Practice

J. M. MacDonald, who as a psychiatrist for the District Courts of Denver has had extensive experience with narcoanalysis, says that drug interrogation is of doubtful value in obtaining confessions to crimes. Criminal suspects under the influence of barbiturates may deliberately withhold information, persist in giving untruthful answers, or falsely confess to crimes they did not commit. The psychopathic personality, in particular, appears to resist successfully the influence of drugs.

MacDonald tells of a criminal psychopath who, having agreed to narco-interrogation, received 1.5 grams of sodium amytal over a period of five hours. This man feigned amnesia and gave a false account of a murder. “He displayed little or no remorse as he (falsely) described the crime, including burial of the body. Indeed he was very self-possessed and he appeared almost to enjoy the examination. From time to time he would request that more amytal be injected.”21

MacDonald concludes that a person who gives false information prior to receiving drugs is likely to give false information also under narcosis, that the drugs are of little value for revealing deceptions, and that they are more effective in releasing unconsciously repressed material than in evoking consciously suppressed information.

Another psychiatrist known for his work with criminals, L. Z. Freedman, gave sodium amytal to men accused of various civil and military antisocial acts. The subjects were mentally unstable, their conditions ranging from character disorders to neuroses and psychoses. The drug interviews proved psychiatrically beneficial to the patients, but Freedman found that his view of objective reality was seldom improved by their revelations. He was unable to say on the basis of the narco-interrogation whether a given act had or had not occurred. Like MacDonald, he found that psychopathic individuals can deny to the point of unconsciousness crimes that every objective sign indicates they have committed.10

F. G. Inbau, Professor of Law at Northwestern University, who has had considerable experience observing and participating in “truth” drug tests, claims that they are occasionally effective on persons who would have disclosed the truth anyway had they been properly interrogated, but that a person determined to lie will usually be able to continue the deception under drugs.

The two military psychiatrists who made the most extensive use of narcoanalysis during the war years, Roy R. Grinker and John C. Spiegel, concluded that in almost all cases they could obtain from their patients essentially the same material and give them the same emotional release by therapy without the use of drugs, provided they had sufficient time.

The essence of these comments from professionals of long experience is that drugs provide rapid access to information that is psychiatrically useful but of doubtful validity as empirical truth. The same psychological information and a less adulterated empirical truth can be obtained from fully conscious subjects through non-drug psychotherapy and skillful police interrogation.

Application to CI Interrogation

The almost total absence of controlled experimental studies of “truth” drugs and the spotty and anecdotal nature of psychiatric and police evidence require that extrapolations to intelligence operations be made with care. Still, enough is known about the drugs’ action to suggest certain considerations affecting the possibilities for their use in interrogations.

It should be clear from the foregoing that at best a drug can only serve as an aid to an interrogator who has a sure understanding of the psychology and techniques of normal interrogation. In some respects, indeed, the demands on his skill will be increased by the baffling mixture of truth and fantasy in drug-induced output. And the tendency against which he must guard in the interrogatee to give the responses that seem to be wanted without regard for facts will be heightened by drugs: the literature abounds with warnings that a subject in narcosis is extremely suggestible.

It seems possible that this suggestibility and the lowered guard of the narcotic state might be put to advantage in the case of a subject feigning ignorance of a language or some other skill that had become automatic with him. Lipton20 found sodium amytal helpful in determining whether a foreign subject was merely pretending not to understand English. By extension, one can guess that a drugged interrogatee might have difficulty maintaining the pretense that he did not comprehend the idiom of a profession he was trying to hide.

There is the further problem of hostility in the interrogator’s relationship to a resistance source. The accumulated knowledge about “truth” drug reaction has come largely from patient-physician relationships of trust and confidence. The subject in narcoanalysis is usually motivated a priori to cooperate with the psychiatrist, either to obtain relief from mental suffering or to contribute to a scientific study. Even in police work, where an atmosphere of anxiety and threat may be dominant, a relationship of trust frequently asserts itself: the drug is administered by a medical man bound by a strict code of ethics; the suspect agreeing to undergo narcoanalysis in a desperate bid for corroboration of his testimony trusts both drug and psychiatrist, however apprehensively; and finally, as Freedman and MacDonald have indicated, the police psychiatrist frequently deals with a “sick” criminal, and some order of patient-physician relationship necessarily evolves.

Rarely has a drug interrogation involved “normal” individuals in a hostile or genuinely threatening milieu. It was from a non-threatening experimental setting that Eric Lindemann could say that his “normal” subjects “reported a general sense of euphoria, ease and confidence, and they exhibited a marked increase in talkativeness and communicability.”19 Gerson and Victoroff list poor doctor-patient rapport as one factor interfering with the completeness and authenticity of confessions by the Fort Dix soldiers, caught as they were in a command performance and told they had no choice but to submit to narco-interrogation.

From all indications, subject-interrogator rapport is usually crucial to obtaining the psychological release which may lead to unguarded disclosures. Role-playing on the part of the interrogator might be a possible solution to the problem of establishing rapport with a drugged subject. In therapy, the British narcoanalyst William Sargant recommends that the therapist deliberately distort the facts of the patient’s life-experience to achieve heightened emotional response and abreaction.27 In the drunken state of narcoanalysis patients are prone to accept the therapist’s false constructions. There is reason to expect that a drugged subject would communicate freely with an interrogator playing the role of relative, colleague, physician, immediate superior, or any other person to whom his background indicated he would be responsive.

Even when rapport is poor, however, there remains one facet of drug action eminently exploitable in interrogation — the fact that subjects emerge from narcosis feeling they have revealed a great deal, even when they have not. As Gerson and Victoroff demonstrated at Fort Dix, this psychological set provides a major opening for obtaining genuine confessions.

Technical Considerations

It would presumably be sometimes desirable that a resistant interrogatee be given the drug without his knowledge. For narcoanalysis the only method of administration used is intravenous injection. The possibilities for covert or “silent” administration by this means would be severely limited except in a hospital setting, where any pretext for intravenous injection, from glucose feeding to anesthetic procedure, could be used to cover it. Sodium amytal can be given orally, and the taste can be hidden in chocolate syrup, for example, but there is no good information on what dosages can be masked. Moreover, although the drug might be introduced thus without detection, it would be difficult to achieve and maintain the proper dose using the oral route.

Administering a sterile injection is a procedure shortly mastered, and in fact the technical skills of intravenous injection are taught to nurses and hospital corpsmen as a matter of routine. But it should be apparent that there is more to narcotizing than the injection of the correct amount of sodium amytal or pentothal sodium. Administering drugs and knowing when a subject is “under” require clinical judgment. Knowing what to expect and how to react appropriately to the unexpected takes both technical and clinical skill. The process calls for qualified medical personnel, and sober reflection on the depths of barbituric anesthesia will confirm that it would not be enough merely to have access to a local physician.

Possible Variations

In studies by Beecher and his associates, 3-6 one-third to one-half the individuals tested proved to be placebo reactors, subjects who respond with symptomatic relief to the administration of any syringe, pill, or capsule, regardless of what it contains. Although no studies are known to have been made of the placebo phenomenon as applied to narco-interrogation, it seems reasonable that when a subject’s sense of guilt interferes with productive interrogation, a placebo for pseudo-narcosis could have the effect of absolving him of the responsibility for his acts and thus clear the way for free communication. It is notable that placebos are most likely to be effective in situations of stress. The individuals most likely to react to placebos are the more anxious, more self-centered, more dependent on outside stimulation, those who express their needs more freely socially, talkers who drain off anxiety by conversing with others. The non-reactors are those clinically intravenous injection. The possibilities for covert or “silent” administration by this means would be severely limited except in a hospital setting, where any pretext for intravenous injection, from glucose feeding to anesthetic procedure, could be used to cover it. Sodium amytal can be given orally, and the taste can be hidden in chocolate syrup, for example, but there is no good information on what dosages can be masked. Moreover, although the drug might be introduced thus without detection, it would be difficult to achieve and maintain the proper dose using the oral route.

Administering a sterile injection is a procedure shortly mastered, and in fact the technical skills of intravenous injection are taught to nurses and hospital corpsmen as a matter of routine. But it should be apparent that there is more to narcotizing than the injection of the correct amount of sodium amytal or pentothal sodium. Administering drugs and knowing when a subject is “under” require clinical judgment. Knowing what to expect and how to react appropriately to the unexpected takes both technical and clinical skill. The process calls for qualified medical personnel, and sober reflection on the depths of barbituric anesthesia will confirm that it would not be enough merely to have access to a local physician.

Possible Variations

In studies by Beecher and his associates, 3-6 one-third to one-half the individuals tested proved to be placebo reactors, subjects who respond with symptomatic relief to the administration of any syringe, pill, or capsule, regardless of what it contains. Although no studies are known to have been made of the placebo phenomenon as applied to narco-interrogation, it seems reasonable that when a subject’s sense of guilt interferes with productive interrogation, a placebo for pseudo-narcosis could have the effect of absolving him of the responsibility for his acts and thus clear the way for free communication. It is notable that placebos are most likely to be effective in situations of stress. The individuals most likely to react to placebos are the more anxious, more self-centered, more dependent on outside stimulation, those who express their needs more freely socially, talkers who drain off anxiety by conversing with others. The non-reactors are those clinically more rigid and with better than average emotional control. No sex or I.Q. differences between reactors and non-reactors have been found.

Another possibility might be the combined use of drugs with hypnotic trance and post-hypnotic suggestion: hypnosis could presumably prevent any recollection of the drug experience. Whether a subject can be brought to trance against his will or unaware, however, is a matter of some disagreement. Orne, in a survey of the potential uses of hypnosis in interrogation,23 asserts that it is doubtful, despite many apparent indications to the contrary, that trance can be induced in resistant subjects. It may be possible, he adds, to hypnotize a subject unaware, but this would require a positive relationship with the hypnotist not likely to be found in the interrogation setting.

In medical hypnosis, pentothal sodium is sometimes employed when only light trance has been induced and deeper narcosis is desired. This procedure is a possibility for interrogation, but if a satisfactory level of narcosis could be achieved through hypnotic trance there would appear to be no need for drugs.

Defensive Measures

There is no known way of building tolerance for a “truth” drug without creating a disabling addiction, or of arresting the action of a barbiturate once induced. The only full safeguard against narco-interrogation is to prevent the administration of the drug. Short of this, the best defense is to make use of the same knowledge that suggests drugs for offensive operations: if a subject knows that on emerging from narcosis he will have an exaggerated notion of how much he has revealed he can better resolve to deny he has said anything.

The disadvantages and shortcomings of drugs in offensive operations become positive features of the defense posture. A subject in narco-interrogation is intoxicated, wavering between deep sleep and semi-wakefulness. His speech is garbled and irrational, the amount of output drastically diminished. Drugs disrupt established thought patterns, including the will to resist, but they do so indiscriminately and thus also interfere with the patterns of substantive information the interrogator seeks. Even under the conditions most favorable for the interrogator, output will be contaminated by fantasy, distortion, and untruth.

Possibly the most effective way to arm oneself against narcointerrogation would be to undergo a “dry run.” A trial drug interrogation with output taped for playback would familiarize an individual with his own reactions to “truth” drugs, and this familiarity would help to reduce the effects of harassment by the interrogator before and after the drug has been administered. From the viewpoint of the intelligence service, the trial exposure of a particular operative to drugs might provide a rough benchmark for assessing the kind and amount of information he would divulge in narcosis.

There may be concern over the possibility of drug addiction intentionally or accidentally induced by an adversary service. Most drugs will cause addiction with prolonged use, and the barbiturates are no exception. In recent studies at the U.S. Public Health Service Hospital for addicts in Lexington, Ky., subjects received large doses of barbiturates over a period of months. Upon removal of the drug, they experienced acute withdrawal symptoms and behaved in every respect like chronic alcoholics.

Because their action is extremely short, however, and because there is little likelihood that they would be administered regularly over a prolonged period, barbiturate “truth” drugs present slight risk of operational addiction. If the adversary service were intent on creating addiction in order to exploit withdrawal, it would have other, more rapid means of producing states as unpleasant as withdrawal symptoms.

The hallucinatory and psychotomimetic drugs such as mescaline, marijuanas, LSD-25, and microtine are sometimes mistakenly associated with narcoanalytic interrogation. These drugs distort the perception and interpretation of the sensory input to the central nervous system and affect vision, audition, smell, the sensation of the size of body parts and their position in space, etc. Mescaline and LSD-25 have been used to create experimental “psychotic states,” and in a minor way as aids in psychotherapy.

Since information obtained from a person in a psychotic drug state would be unrealistic, bizarre, and extremely difficult to assess, the self-administration of LSD-25, which is effective in minute dosages, might in special circumstances offer an operative temporary protection against interrogation. Conceivably, on the other hand, an adversary service could use such drugs to produce anxiety or terror in medically unsophisticated subjects unable to distinguish drug-induced psychosis from actual insanity. An enlightened operative could not be thus frightened, however, knowing that the effect of these hallucinogenic agents is transient in normal individuals

Most broadly, there is evidence that drugs have least effect on well-adjusted individuals with good defenses and good emotional control, and that anyone who can withstand the stress of competent interrogation in the waking state can do so in narcosis. The essential resources for resistance thus appear to lie within the individual.

Conclusions

The salient points that emerge from this discussion are the following. No such magic brew as the popular notion of truth serum exists. The barbiturates, by disrupting defensive patterns, may sometimes be helpful in interrogation, but even under the best conditions they will elicit an output contaminated by deception, fantasy, garbled speech, etc. A major vulnerability they produce in the subject is a tendency to believe he has revealed more than he has. It is possible, however, for both normal individuals and psychopaths to resist drug interrogation; it seems likely that any individual who can withstand ordinary intensive interrogation can hold out in narcosis. The best aid to a defense against narco-interrogation is foreknowledge of the process and its limitations. There is an acute need for controlled experimental studies of drug reaction, not only to depressants but also to stimulants and to combinations of depressants, stimulants, and ataraxics.


REFERENCES

1. Adams, E. Barbiturates. Sci. Am., Jan. 1958, 198(1), 60 – 64.

2. Barkham, J. Truth Drugs: The new crime solver. Coronet, Jan. 1951, 29, 72 – 76.

3. Beecher, H. K. Anesthesia. Sci. Am., Jan. 1957, 198, p. 70.

4. Beecher, H. K. Appraisal of drugs intended to alter subjective responses, symptoms. J. Amer. Med. Assn., 1955,158.,399 – 401.

5. Beecher, H. K. Evidence for increased effectiveness of placebos with increased stress. Amer. J. Physiol., 1956, 187, 163 – 169.

6. Beecher, H. K. Experimental pharmacology and measurement of the subjective response. Science, 1953, 116, 157 – 162.

7. Brussel, J. A., Wilson, D. C., Jr., & Shankel, L. W. The use of methedrine in psychiatric practice. Psychiat. Quart., 1954, 28, 381 – 394.

8. Delay, J. Pharmacologic explorations of the personality: narcoanalysis and “methedrine” shock. Proc. Roy. Soc. Med., 1949, 42, 492 – 496.

9. DeRopp, R. S. Drugs and the Mind. New York: Grove Press, Inc., 1960.

10. Freedman, L. Z. “Truth” drugs. Sci. Am., March 1960, 145 – 154. .

11. Geis, G. In scopolamine veritas. The early history of drug-induced statements. J. of Crim. Law, Criminol. & Pol. Sci., Nov-Dec. 1959, 50(4), 347 – 356.

12. Gerson, M. J., & Victoroff, V. Experimental investigation into the validity of confessions obtained under sodium amytal narcosis. J. Clin. and Exp. Psychopath., 1948, 9, 359 – 375.

13. Gottschalk, L. A. The use of drugs in information-seeking interviews. Technical report #2, ARDC Study SR 177-D Contract AF 18(600) 1797. Dec. 1958. Bureau of Social Science Research, Inc.

14. House, R. E. The use of scopolamine in criminology. Texas St. J. of Med., 1922, 18, 259.

15. Houston, F. A preliminary investigation into abreaction comparing methedrine and sodium amytal with other methods. J. ment. Sci., 1952, 98, 707 – 710.

16. Inbau, F. G. Self-incrimination. Springfield: C. C. Thomas, 1950.

17. Kidd, W. R. Police interrogation. 1940.

18. Legal dose of truth. Newsweek, Feb. 23, 1959, 28.

19. Lindemann, E. Psychological changes in normal and abnormal individuals under the influence of sodium amytal. Amer. J. Psychiat., 1932, 11, 1083 – 1091.

20. Lipton, E. L. The amytal interview. A review. Amer. Practit. Digest Treat., 1950, 1, 148 – 163.

21. MacDonald, J. M. Narcoanalysis and criminal law. Amer. J. Psychiat., 1954, 111, 283 – 288.

22. Morris, D. P. Intravenous barbiturates: an aid in the diagnosis and treatment of conversion hysteria and malingering. Mil. Surg., 1945, 96, 509 – 513.

23. Orne, M. T. The potential uses of hypnosis in interrogation. An evaluation. ARDC Study SR 177-D Contract AF 18(600) 1797, Dec. 1958. Bureau of Social Science Research, Inc.

24. Pelikan, E. W., & Kensler, C. J. Sedatives: Their pharmacology and uses. Reprint from The Medical Clinics of North America. W. B. Saunders Company, Sept. 1958.

25. Redlich, F. C., Ravitz, L. J., & Dession, G. H. Narcoanalysis and truth. Amer. J. Psychiat., 1951, 107, 586 – 593.

26. Rolin, J. Police Drugs. Translated by L. J. Bendit. New York: Philosophical Library, 1956.

27. Sargant, W., & Slater, E. Physical methods of treatment in psychiatry. (3rd ed.) Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins, 1954.

28. Snider, R. S. Cerebellum. Sci. Am., Aug. 1958, 84.

29. Uhr, L., & Miller, L. G. (eds.). Drugs and Behavior. New York-London: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1960.

The Subject Matter of Marxist Philosophy

Excerpt from First Talk

Date: 1965
Source: What is Dialectical Materialism?, pp. 5-19
Translated (from Russian) by: Clemens Dutt
Published: Progress Publishers, Moscow
Transcription/HTML Markup/Proofreading: Mike B., June 2014
Public Domain: Marxists Internet Archive (2014). You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit “Marxists Internet Archive” as your source. (marxists.org)

Philosophy, as Lenin teaches, is always of a partisan nature. That is to say, it defends partisan, class interests. Hence contending parties in philosophy are to be found in each historical period. Materialism and idealism are such parties in philosophy.

Materialism and idealism

What is the meaning of these two concepts? Take a look at things and phenomena in the world. Some of them, such as a stone, a tree, a living organism, water, etc., we can touch with our hands, see with our eyes, weigh and measure, and so on. They exist outside and independently of man’s consciousness. We perceive them by means of our sense organs—those of sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. But there are also phenomena of a different kind, for example, our thoughts and wishes, which we cannot measure, weigh, see or hear. They exist in man’s consciousness.

Material objects and phenomena are those which exist not in our consciousness but outside it. They do not depend on human beings, they exist objectively, i.e., in reality. If man did not exist, these things would still exist. The other group of phenomena belong to consciousness. They are ideal phenomenon. They include thoughts feelings desires, will.

They do not exist outside and apart from man. As you see, one group of phenomena in its totality constitutes nature, matter, while the other constitutes consciousness, or mind.

Nature, matter, is also called being. What connection is there between material and mental phenomena? This is a question that faces us continually. In regard to all the phenomena in the world, we can put it in this way: which is primary, that is to say, which comes first, nature, matter or thought, reason, consciousness? Sometimes this question is put somewhat differently: does mind, consciousness, give rise to nature, matter, or does nature, matter, being, give rise to mind, consciousness. This question is known as the fundamental question of philosophy. Different philosophers answer it indifferent ways.

Some of them say that matter is primary, initial, that it gives rise to mind, consciousness. Such philosophers are called materialists, since their starting point is that matter denies all that exists. Others say that consciousness, mind, primary and that matter, nature, is secondary, derivative. According to them, consciousness precedes matter, and nature arose from some sort of spiritual basis. Such philosophers are called idealists; they hold that underlying all that exists is idea, i.e., thought, spirit. These are the two camps into which philosophers are divided, that of the materialists and of the idealists. They have opposed each other throughout history of philosophy.

Hence, depending on how to tackle the fundamental question, the philosophers split into two groups. But the study and understanding of the world depends also on the method used by a particular philosopher to gain knowledge.

More at: https://www.marxists.org/archive/yakhot/1965/what-is-dialectical-materialism/first.htm

Bad sex award cancelled as public exposed to ‘too many bad things in 2020’

Prize for ‘unconvincing, perfunctory, embarrassing or redundant passages of a sexual nature in sound literary novels’ will resume in 2021

The Rev Richard Coles appears at the 2014 Bad sex in fiction award ceremony.

The Rev Richard Coles appears at the 2014 Bad sex in fiction award ceremony. Photograph: Alan Davidson/Rex/Shutterstock

Alison Flood Tue 8 Dec 2020 (theguardian.com)

Novelists who have strayed into the more intimate realms in their recent writing will have breathed a sigh of relief on Tuesday after the Literary Review announced it had cancelled this year’s Bad sex in fiction awards.

The prize was set up in 1993 by Auberon Waugh, with the intention of “gently dissuading authors and publishers from including unconvincing, perfunctory, embarrassing or redundant passages of a sexual nature in otherwise sound literary novels”. Last year it was jointly won by Didier Decoin for The Office of Gardens and Ponds, which included the passage: “Miyuki felt as though she was manipulating a small monkey that was curling up its paws”, and John Harvey for Pax, in which the characters “embraced as if with violent holding they could weld the two of them one”.‘Mouthful by mouthful’: the 2019 Bad sex award in quotesRead more

The award’s judges said they took the decision because they felt “the public had been subjected to too many bad things this year to justify exposing it to bad sex as well”. Fewer books were published this year because of the coronavirus, and this was likely to have been a factor, too.Advertisement

But the judges warned authors not to take the cancellation as a “licence to write bad sex”.

“With lockdown regulations giving rise to all manner of novel sexual practices, the judges anticipate a rash of entries next year,” said a spokesperson. “Authors are reminded that cybersex and other forms of home entertainment fall within the purview of this award. Scenes set in fields, parks or back yards, or indoors with the windows open and fewer than six people present will not be exempt from scrutiny.”

The prize was first won by Melvyn Bragg for a scene from A Time to Dance. “I won six other awards but that’s the one they remember,” Bragg later said. “Ian McEwan said it’s the most envied prize in the English language. I thought I wrote about sex pretty well, actually.”

Some authors take the win in good spirits. James Frey, winning in 2018 for his novel Katerina, which includes a scene containing eight separate references to ejaculate, called himself “deeply honoured and humbled” to win. Tom Wolfe, however, taking the prize for a passage in I Am Charlotte Simmons that included the line “slither slither slither slither went the tongue”, responded: “You can lead an English literary wannabe to irony but you can’t make him get it.”

And Morrissey, who won for his novel List of the Lost and its reference to “the pained frenzy” of a “bulbous salutation”, said he felt it was “best to maintain an indifferent distance” from the award, “because there are too many good things in life to let these repulsive horrors pull you down”.

Qatar to allow Pride flags during 2022 World Cup – but will still lock up gay men for having sex

PATRICK KELLEHER DECEMBER 9, 2020 (pinknews.co.uk)

Qatar will allow Pride flags to be flown during the 2022 World Cup

Pride flags will be allowed at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar, but LGBT+ people will have to respect the country’s homophobic “culture”. (Envato Elements)

Qatar will allow Pride flags to be flown at the 2022 World Cup – but the starkly homophobic country will still expect visitors to respect its “culture”.

There was outcry from LGBT+ football fans in 2010 when it was announced that Qatar would host the 2022 World Cup, despite the country’s harsh laws. Homosexuality is illegal in the Arabic country, with gay sex punishable by up to three years in prison or the death penalty for Muslims under Sharia law.

Now, Qatar’s World Cup leadership team has assured Fifa that pro-LGBT+ displays will not be removed – including Pride flags.

“When it comes to the rainbow flags in the stadiums, FIFA have their own guidelines, they have their rules and regulations,” Nasser Al-Khater, 2022 World Cup chief executive, told the Associated Press.

“Whatever they may be, we will respect them.”

He added: “We have a country that’s conservative, however we are a welcoming country.

“We are open and welcoming – hospitable. We understand the difference in people’s cultures. We understand the difference in people’s beliefs and so I think, again, everybody will be welcome and everybody will be treated with respect.

“Just like our culture is a culture of this world, we also expect people to respect our culture. I think there’s a balance and there’s a feeling that people will respect people from everywhere.”

Allowing Pride flags at Qatar World Cup won’t help LGBT+ community

Chris Paouros, a member of the English Football Association’s inclusion advisory board, told the Associated Press that allowing Pride flags at the 2022 World Cup amounts to “window dressing” when LGBT+ people in Qatar are still face persecution under the law.

“What it doesn’t do is help the LGBTQ+ community,” Paouros said.

“It’s great for us to be able to go and put our flags up in the stadium, and that’s wonderful during a World Cup. You want it to be the festival of football.

“But ultimately we do the work because we want to make sure that everybody can be free to be who they are and if you’re a Qatari and you’re not able to, then it just feels like window dressing.”

More from PinkNews

Stars you didn’t know are LGBT+Celebs you didn’t know have an LGBT siblingThe stars who went gay for pay

Speaking to the Associated Foreign Press in September 2019, Al-Khater insisted that LGBT+ fans will be safe in Qatar at the World Cup – but said they should refrain from public displays of affection.

“The safety and security of every single fan is of the utmost importance to us,” Khater said at the time.

“There’s a lot of training going into security personnel to make sure that things that are culturally different are seen in that frame.

“Public displays of affection is frowned upon, it’s not part of our culture – but that goes across the board to everybody.”

When Qatar was announced as the host of the 2022 World Cup in 2010, former FIFA president Sepp Blatter said gay fans should “refrain” from having sex in the starkly homophobic country.

When asked about concerns over the treatment of gay fans at the event, he laughed the question off and said: “I would say they should refrain from any sexual activities.”

The Intellectual Standards

(theelementsofthought.org) We all have a system to break down how we understand things, how the world looks to us, how we make sense of the world. The ways we think are called the Elements of Thought.

But once we have thought about something, how do we know if we’re right? How do we know if our thinking is any good?

Unfortunately, most of the time we don’t think well. We tend to favor decisions and ideas that favor us, put our own group over other groups. We are…ego-centric and socio-centric. So, we need to force ourselves to look at things the way they truly are. So, to assess the quality of our thinking, we use the Intellectual Standards.

Mr. Meegan Roman Standards

A standard is a measure of how good something is. The ancient Romans used symbols on the top of long poles to show the troops where they should stand and which way to face. It brought order to a crazy and chaotic battlefield. In much the same way, we use standards in thinking to make sure that hold our feet to the fire, to make sure that what we say and do is actually right.

There are nine Intellectual Standards we use to assess thinking: ClarityAccuracyPrecisionRelevanceDepthBreadthLogicSignificance, and Fairness. Let’s check them out one-by-one.

Clarity forces the thinking to be explained well so that it is easy to understand. When thinking is easy to follow, it has Clarity.

Accuracy makes sure that all information is correct and free from error. If the thinking is reliable, then it has Accuracy.

Precision goes one step further than Accuracy. It demands that the words and data used are exact. If no more details could be added, then it has Precision.

Relevance means that everything included is important, that each part makes a difference. If something is focused on what needs to be said, there is Relevance.

Depth makes the argument thorough. It forces us to explore the complexities. If an argument includes all the nuances necessary to make the point, it has Depth.

Breadth demands that additional viewpoints are taken into account. Are all perspectives considered? When all sides of an argument are discussed, then we find Breadth.

Logical means that an argument is reasonable, the thinking is consistent and the conclusions follow from the evidence. When something makes sense step-by-step, then it is Logical.

Significance compels us to include the most important ideas. We don’t want to leave out crucial facts that would help to make a point. When everything that is essential is included, then we find Significance.

Fairness means that the argument is balanced and free from bias. It pushes us to be impartial and evenhanded toward other positions. When an argument is objective, there is Fairness.

There are more Intellectual Standards, but if you use these nine to assess thinking, then you’re on your way to thinking like a pro.

(Contributed by Sarah Flynn.)

Why monkeys (and humans) are wired for fairness

Sarah Brosnan|TED Salon: UNDP (ted.com)

English transcription by Ivana Korom. Reviewed by Krystian Aparta.

Fairness matters … to both people and primates. Sharing priceless footage of capuchin monkeys responding to perceived injustice, primatologist Sarah Brosnan explores why humans and monkeys evolved to care about equality — and emphasizes the connection between a healthy, cooperative society and everyone getting their fair share.

This talk was presented at a TED Salon event given in partnership with UNDP. TED editors featured it among our selections on the home page. Read more about TED Salons.

ABOUT THE SPEAKER

Sarah Brosnan · PrimatologistSarah Brosnan studies how and why animals make decisions.

The Books That Made Me: “Letting Go”

Russell Brand I get asked A LOT about what #books I’m reading, or recommendations on what to read…so here we have…some semblance of a book club, read along, analysis of the books that have made me and inspired me. Get Letting Go by David Hawkins here: https://www.waterstones.com/book/lett… Instagram: http://instagram.com/russellbrand/ Twitter: http://twitter.com/rustyrockets Produced by Jenny May Finn (Instagram: @jennymayfinn)

Memory, Identity, and Responsibility

Need we be punished for crimes we can’t remember?

John Locke - Crimes you can't remember

Issue 64, 20th March 2018 (iai.tv)

Helen Beebee 

| Samuel Hall Professor of Philosophy at the University of Manchester1,129 wordsRead time: approx. 6 mins

In 1985, Vernon Madison murdered a police officer, Julius Schulte, in Mobile, Alabama. Madison was due to be executed by lethal injection in January this year, but was given a last-minute stay of execution. After several strokes, he suffers from dementia and memory impairment, and can no longer remember committing the crime.

The Supreme Court will now hear his case. The legal issue hinges on the letter of the law. In 1986, the Supreme Court ruled that executing someone who cannot understand the reason for their execution violates the 8th Amendment to the US Constitution’s ban on ‘cruel and unusual punishment’, and in 2016 the Circuit Court of Appeal ruled that ‘according to his perception of reality he never committed murder’ and hence cannot ‘understand the reason’ for his execution. (That ruling was later overturned by the Supreme Court, which now appears to be having second thoughts about that.)

The legal question, then, seems to turn on whether someone who can’t remember committing a crime is nonetheless capable of ‘understanding the reason’ for their execution. But let’s leave that tricky question to the Supreme Court to decide, and ask a more general, and more philosophical, question: can someone who can’t remember performing a given act be genuinely morally responsible (as opposed to satisfying the legal requirements for punishment) for that act?

___

“In Locke’s view, if you can’t remember performing a given act, then you are literally not the same person as the person who performed that act”

___

According to one strand of thought stemming from the 18th-Century philosopher John Locke, the answer is ‘no’. Indeed, Locke himself went even further than that: he thought that if you can’t remember performing a given act, then you are literally not the same person as the person who performed that act. That might sound decidedly odd, but for Locke, the concept of a ‘person’ is what he calls a ‘forensic’ notion – that is, more or less, a notion whose purpose is to sort out who is morally responsible for what. According to this more radical proposal, Madison’s ‘perception of reality’ that he ‘never committed the murder’ is entirely accurate.

So in Locke’s view, Madison is not, now, morally responsible for the murder (indeed he is not even the same person as the murderer) – and hence does not deserve to be punished for it. But why think that in order to be morally responsible for something, you must be able to remember doing it?

Well, let’s approach this question by doing what philosophers often do, which is to consider some rather more extreme possible cases. Consider Bruce Banner and The Incredible Hulk. Let’s assume that Bruce has no control over whether or when he ‘turns into’ the Hulk, and that Bruce can’t remember anything about what Hulk has been up to. So when the Hulk transforms back into Bruce, Bruce has no idea what Hulk might have got up to. Suppose Hulk does something really bad. Is Bruce morally responsible for that? There is of course room for dispute about this, but my gut feeling is that the answer is ‘no’: Bruce is not morally responsible, and that is so precisely because he can’t remember what the Hulk did. (And Locke would add the extra step: Bruce and the Hulk are therefore different people.)

Things might be different if Bruce did have control over whether or when the Hulk emerged. Suppose Bruce can turn into Hulk – or not – at will, and knows that Hulk is prone to behaving very badly. Then Bruce surely bears at least some responsibility for Hulk’s actions, even though he has no control over exactly what the Hulk will do. Similarly – and much closer to reality – if you know that you tend to behave very badly when very drunk but never remember when you wake up the following morning what you did, that doesn’t get you off the hook. After all, if you, in your pre-drunken state, had exerted more control over your own behaviour, by refusing those drinks or staying away from the pub all together, then you wouldn’t have indulged in the bad behaviour. So you are still indirectly to blame for that bad behaviour even though you can’t remember it, via being morally responsible for having got drunk – something that you knew was likely to lead to bad behaviour.

Even Locke himself can accommodate a version of that claim. In his view you are not literally the same person as the drunk who behaved badly. Nonetheless you are a kind of accomplice to it; without your wilfully drinking in excess, that drunk person would never have come into existence. You’re morally responsible for that, and hence bear some responsibility for the foreseeable consequences of it. The situation would be a bit like one in which you brainwash or hypnotise someone into holding up a security van. (This is entirely possible; the British illusionist Derren Brown once did it. Although of course it wasn’t a real security van.)

___

“Madison remembers neither the murder nor (let’s assume) any of the events leading up to it. So in Locke’s view, Madison is not now morally responsible, even in a derivative way, for the murder, whether or not we add Locke’s extra claim that Madison-now is not the same person as the person who committed the murder”

___

These kinds of cases suggest that there is something to Locke’s thought that you can’t be morally responsible for something you can’t remember doing – as in the Banner/Hulk case where Bruce has no control over Hulk’s behaviour – but that we probably need to distinguish between direct and derived responsibility to deal with tricky cases, such as the case where Bruce does have control over whether Hulk appears or the bad-behaviour-when-drunk case.

The Madison case is not one of those cases, however. In the drunk case, for example, right now you (let’s assume) can at least remember accepting the invitation to go to the pub and to drink at least the first few drinks – knowing full well what the likely consequences would be. So you are morally responsible for all of those things, and hence indirectly morally responsible for the behaviour of the drunk person (whether or not we follow Locke in thinking that that person wasn’t really you). By contrast, Madison remembers neither the murder nor (let’s assume) any of the events leading up to it. So in Locke’s view (suitably amended to take care of the tricky cases) Madison is not now morally responsible, even in a derivative way, for the murder – whether or not we add Locke’s extra claim that Madison-now is not the same person as the person who committed the murder.

So for Locke, whatever the Supreme Court decides, from a moral point of view Madison isn’t guilty of anything.