The Lying Cheerleader, or, The Truth Teller's Paradox, Part III
By John Taylor; 4 December, 2005
I had just begun this series on logic when I heard that the prominent
Baha'i logician and mathematician Bill Hatcher had died in Woodstock,
Ontario. Maybe his spirit, upon entering the world of God inspired the
likes of me to think about his specialty, logic and conferred the
boldness in my humble way to pay tribute this week to his logical
acumen, I do not know. But for me it was further strange coincidence
that Dr. Hatcher should have died in Woodstock, the place where I
heard him give the only perfect introductory speech to the Baha'i
Faith that I have ever heard, one that I still recall after all these
years. It was the late 1980's and I was an isolated believer twenty
clicks south of Woodstock, in Norwich, Ontario. I had listened avidly
to a great many Baha'i speakers in my early years in the Faith but by
then had come to avoid live talks scrupulously. It was just too
distressing to hear mistakes and even blunders laid out in a row; they
are rampant in the average public speaker's repertory. Even the best
is bound from time to time to make an annoying trip up, if not an
error of historical fact then one of emphasis or distortion or
personal bias. I did not blame them, but I did not enjoy hearing it.
But with Dr. Hatcher it was completely different. After a long talk
without a trace of error that left me leaning back in my chair in awe,
he then answered questions, and each of his answers could have been
taken down and printed verbatim in an introductory pamphlet. I
probably will never again witness such a feat. And by all accounts his
professional career has raised the bar to heights that will be
difficult for any intellectual successors to reach. May God have mercy
upon this immaculate tree planted deep and steady in His Abha garden.
At the beginning of this series we touched upon a very Socratic
definition of evil put forward by `Abdu'l-Baha in SAQ. He says in
essence that evil is not a positive entity, be it matter or energy,
but that it is non-existent, a lack, a misapplication of a good thing.
His example to illustrate was that just as charity given to a poor
person who turns around and misuses the gift does not prove that the
giver was wrong to give the gift, so good is not weakened or
denigrated by its misuse by the ignorant. Another example is that just
as communicating truth is the consummation of language, its reverse,
lying, is not proof that truth has become false. Even a lie in the
mouth of a wise and knowledgeable doctor can become truer than a truth
in the mouth of an ignorant fool.
This idea of true lies and false truths, both inward and outward, was
memorably laid out by Plato in his Republic. Because it is so very
important I will cite this passage from his masterwork in its entirety
and put off discussing it until tomorrow.
By way of introduction, let me say this. Plato's Socrates here is
talking about an ideal way of governing the world, a utopia that he
calls the Public Place (Res Publica, or Republic), essentially a
society run by teachers or scientists, both of which were known at the
time by one word, "philosopher," literally a lover of wisdom. In such
a society some stories and conclusions would not be allowed, any more
than a good teacher can allow certain unedifying topics to be
entertained in the classroom. Many critics claim that this is
censorship, and in a sense it is since teachers would have real power
in Plato's Republic. But the same critics who stew about the misuse of
censorship by tyrants forget that the rule of philosophers is by
definition the reverse of tyranny, rule of the ignorant. These critics
would be extremely upset if their children's elementary teachers
handed out copies of Hustler magazine and called it "sex education."
Judicious control of information by philosophers who know what they
are doing and desire to teach is as far from the obscurantism of a
totalitarian government as the pruning of a skilled gardener is from
the "black earth policy" of an army wielding flame throwers. In the
following passage Plato discusses the most dangerous kind of deception
imaginable, the lie behind outer truths or falsehoods, the real or
"true lie," a lie about the nature of God. If there is anything that
the most enlightened leadership imaginable always must suppress and
censor, it is this lie, the father of all falsehood, a virus so
virulent that it kills the healthy and turns truths into lies.
from:Plato, Republic, Book II
And will not the bravest and wisest soul be least confused or deranged
by any external influence?
True.
And the same principle, as I should suppose, applies to all composite
things -- furniture, houses, garments; when good and well made, they
are least altered by time and circumstances.
Very true.
Then everything which is good, whether made by art or nature, or both,
is least liable to suffer change from without?
True.
But surely God and the things of God are in every way perfect?
Of course they are.
Then he can hardly be compelled by external influence to take many shapes?
He cannot.
But may he not change and transform himself?
Clearly, he said, that must be the case if he is changed at all.
And will he then change himself for the better and fairer, or for the
worse and more unsightly? If he change at all he can only change for
the worse, for we cannot suppose him to be deficient either in virtue
or beauty. Very true, Adeimantus; but then, would any one, whether God
or man, desire to make himself worse?
Impossible.
Then it is impossible that God should ever be willing to change;
being, as is supposed, the fairest and best that is conceivable, every
god remains absolutely and for ever in his own form.
That necessarily follows, he said, in my judgment.
Then, I said, my dear friend, let none of the poets tell us that the
gods, taking the disguise of strangers from other lands, walk up and
down cities in all sorts of forms; and let no one slander Proteus and
Thetis, neither let any one, either in tragedy or in any other kind of
poetry, introduce here disguised in the likeness of a priestess asking
an alms for the life-giving daughters of Inachus the river of Argos;
-- let us have no more lies of that sort. Neither must we have mothers
under the influence of the poets scaring their children with a bad
version of these myths -- telling how certain gods, as they say, 'Go
about by night in the likeness of so many strangers and in divers
forms'; but let them take heed lest they make cowards of their
children, and at the same time speak blasphemy against the gods.
Heaven forbid, he said.
But although the gods are themselves unchangeable, still by witchcraft
and deception they may make us think that they appear in various
forms?
Perhaps, he replied.
Well, but can you imagine that God will be willing to lie, whether in
word or deed, or to put forth a phantom of himself? I cannot say, he
replied. Do you not know, I said, that the true lie, if such an
expression may be allowed, is hated of gods and men?
What do you mean? he said.
I mean that no one is willingly deceived in that which is the truest
and highest part of himself, or about the truest and highest matters;
there, above all, he is most afraid of a lie having possession of him.
Still, he said, I do not comprehend you.
The reason is, I replied, that you attribute some profound meaning to
my words; but I am only saying that deception, or being deceived or
uninformed about the highest realities in the highest part of
themselves, which is the soul, and in that part of them to have and to
hold the lie, is what mankind least like; -- that, I say, is what
they utterly detest.
There is nothing more hateful to them.
And, as I was just now remarking, this ignorance in the soul of him
who is deceived may be called the true lie; for the lie in words is
only a kind of imitation and shadowy image of a previous affection of
the soul, not pure unadulterated falsehood. Am I not right?
Perfectly right.
The true lie is hated not only by the gods, but also by men?
Yes.
Whereas the lie in words is in certain cases useful and not hateful;
in dealing with enemies -- that would be an instance; or again, when
those whom we call our friends in a fit of madness or illusion are
going to do some harm, then it is useful and is a sort of medicine or
preventive; also in the tales of mythology, of which we were just now
speaking -- because we do not know the truth about ancient times, we
make falsehood as much like truth as we can, and so turn it to
account.
Very true, he said.
But can any of these reasons apply to God? Can we suppose that he is
ignorant of antiquity, and therefore has recourse to invention? That
would be ridiculous, he said. Then the lying poet has no place in our
idea of God?
I should say not.
Or perhaps he may tell a lie because he is afraid of enemies?
That is inconceivable.
But he may have friends who are senseless or mad?
But no mad or senseless person can be a friend of God.
Then no motive can be imagined why God should lie?
None whatever.
Then the superhuman and divine is absolutely incapable of falsehood?
Yes.
Then is God perfectly simple and true both in word and deed; he
changes not; he deceives not, either by sign or word, by dream or
waking vision."
--
John Taylor
badijet@gmail.com
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