Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Confirmation Bias

'Confirmation bias' is one of those terms fashionable among political commentators who have never acquired meaningful knowledge. They invoke it as if they were umpires of the political battleground, sitting pompously on their high chairs, feigning impartiality; or psychics who sincerely and pathetically believe their vague, generic statements to be profound.

Does the term actually add anything to the conversation? It never seems to be more than an epithet, an accusation. Every side tends to accuse the other of interpreting events in a way that affirms their worldview. Intelligent people perceive this problem in themselves and try to guard against it; for intelligent people recognise that doubt is more useful than certainty. 

Everyone has biases, prejudices, belief systems. This is not in the slightest bit revelatory (and indeed neither is it a bad thing). We moderns keep rediscovering things and giving it a pseudoscientific name as if we actually discovered it.

But what annoys me more is how the idea is used to dismiss certain beliefs. Look at those ideologues and extremists, they say, who are always seeking confirmation of their biases; we, the sensible rational people, always approach facts with reason and logic. 

Just because I find confirmations of my beliefs and my prejudices in a great many diverse places does not mean I am 'biased'. It may mean I'm right.

Saturday, April 20, 2019

Hold the Applause

Watching this discussion between the Islamic scholar Hamza Yusuf and conservative philosopher Roger Scruton, I was struck by something Yusuf said, that one of the spiritual goals of Islam is to be 'inwardly in a state of ecstasy and outwardly in a state of sobriety'. This is an extremely profound insight, one forgotten by a modern secular world that seems to demand an exaggerated outward expression of internal feelings. To not smile when photographed is considered weird, if not disturbing; and to grin widely and make the most ridiculous faces while taking photographs of oneself is considered normal. One is frequently told to 'express yourself' and 'be who you are'; reserve is treated not as a dignified spiritual position but as psychological repression.

This attitude has colonised most aspects of our lives. One sanctuary (though increasingly under threat) is the concert hall. Listeners are ideally expected to be 'inwardly in a state of ecstasy and outwardly in a state of sobriety'. This is out of respect not merely for fellow audience members, and not merely for the music and the musicians either, but in recognition that this communal moment is more important than oneself. It engages the best parts of ourselves -- the part of us that forgets ourselves -- and it cannot be accessed if we are constantly indulging our basest, most selfish nature. We are together an audience before something great, and the ecstasy of the soul is discovered in our silence and stillness.

I heard the Catholic composer James Macmillan, in a conversation with Anglican priest and writer Giles Fraser, describe the 'obedience of music', a beautiful phrase -- and I think it refers to a similar idea. For music demands things of us: restraint, reflection, but seldom action. The trouble is, most people react to music by noise (and sometimes movement) because this is the only way they know to express gratitude and joy. But applause, the most common way of doing this, is actually very poor at showing gratitude. It is a noisy, disruptive and indulgent act only really good for showing enthusiasm. Sure, this works well for something like the last movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which naturally inspires the most enthusiastic and extroverted of responses. But so much great music requires a more reflective audience. This is especially true (though by no means exclusively true) of quieter, more intimate music, whose beauty is trampled upon by the sound of hands clapping. But I would also prefer after a performance of Monteverdi's Vespers, for example, that there would be no applause. After a period of reflection, wouldn't a better response be for people to quietly leave?

Most listeners are well aware how irritating it is to hear people rustling through programmes, whispering, or to see them checking their phones during a concert. (And these are all wretched manifestations of the sad inability to restrain oneself.) But I find even more irritating the habit of applauding and shouting 'bravo' immediately after the last note has been played, if not well before. I was never more annoyed than when hearing Messiaen's profound and sacred L'ascension, beautifully performed, and just before it had ended a silly, thoughtless man shouted 'bravo!' and began the applause. I do not believe he was actually listening to the music. He was listening to himself, and he was eager to impose himself on the rest of us. I suspect that, unlike most of us in the audience, he was inwardly in a state of sobriety but outwardly in a state of ecstasy, which is a miserable way of being.

[Update: Apparently Debussy beat me to it by some 118 years: https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/music/hold-applause]

Friday, April 12, 2019

The Future of the Monarchy

I'm re-reading The Leopard, which may be my favourite novel, and this short paragraph particularly struck me. Replying to his brother-in-law, who says that regardless of the inadequacies of any particular sovereign, the 'idea of monarchy is still the same', Don Fabrizio says:

'... Kings who personify an idea should not, cannot, fall below a certain level for generations; if they do, my dear brother-in-law, the idea suffers too.'

In Britain, our heir apparent is a mildly eccentric, semi-intelligent man. He does not necessarily possess those qualities required of greatness, but he has many virtues and many of the right instincts. However, he will not be king for long, if indeed he will be king at all. Princes William and Henry both clearly fall below a certain level. They both adhere unquestioningly to the ethos of modern Britain, and unlike their father they do not show show a genuine appreciation of British culture. Prince Charles will be the last monarch, I believe, who will feel that he is inheriting centuries of English and British culture and tradition. He possesses some of that nobility of a monarch. His sons are celebrities, and once William is on the throne I suspect the idea of monarchy will finally disappear from the minds of British subjects (who already are no longer 'subjects' in law, but 'citizens').

Thursday, April 11, 2019

The Re-Defenestration of Roger Scruton

Roger Scruton has again found himself in a whirlwind of artificial controversy. This time, however, he has been sacked from his appointment as an advisor to the government regarding architectural design. It came about as a result of this interview in the New Statesman, in which George Eaton proves himself to be one of the sneakiest, most disingenuous journalists in the business. Take, for instance, this paragraph:
Scruton is unrepentant, however, about the remarks that earned him such opprobrium. “Anybody who doesn’t think that there’s a Soros empire in Hungary has not observed the facts,” he said, heedless of the anti-Semitic portrayal of the philanthropist George Soros as a Jewish puppet-master.
This is what Scruton actually has to say about the subject, unedited:
The Jewish minority (here in Hungary) that survived the Nazi occupation suffered further persecution under the communists, but nevertheless is active in making its presence known. Many of the Budapest intelligentsia are Jewish, and form part of the extensive networks around the Soros Empire. People in these networks include many who are rightly suspicious of nationalism, regard nationalism as the major cause of the tragedy of Central Europe in the 20th century, and do not distinguish nationalism from the kind of national loyalty that I have defended in this talk. Moreover, as the world knows, indigenous anti-Semitism still plays a part in Hungarian society and politics, and presents an obstacle to the emergence of a shared national loyalty among ethnic Hungarians and Jews.
(This is taken from Scruton's own article in the Spectator on the controversy. You should read the whole thing.)

It is hard to understand how a thoughtful, kindly man like Scruton, one who has shown great courage in his lifetime (look up his work with Soviet dissidents) and is respected by a great many across the political divide, is the subject of so much hatred. Of course, his enemies -- for they really are enemies, out for blood -- accuse him of 'hate'. But any fair-minded observer has to see the way Eaton manipulated Scruton's quotations, then gloated about his defenestration, and conclude that it is his enemies, rather, who have hate in their heart.

The treatment of Scruton is a matter that should concern anyone with even a slither of heterodox thought. If one of the greatest conservative philosophers of our time cannot even be a minor unpaid adviser on architecture in the nominally Conservative Party, what hope is there for the rest of us? The Stalinist glee with which George Eaton manipulated quotations and poured slime over Scruton's reputation will be an increasingly common sight. They are the actions of the weaselly state informant who will thrive in this brave new world of criminalised thought and left-wing orthodoxy. Increasingly one will have to be secretive about one's views, even those which might seem quite inoffensive, lest someone misconstrues them, deliberately or not. For it does not matter what you actually believe, they will attribute beliefs which they want you have, and everyone will believe them -- those in authority -- not you. And yet so many of these beliefs were normal only but a short time ago. It has been a revolution, with all the accompanying dangers of revolution.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

On Handel

I attended a somewhat boring performance of Handel's Semele the other night. It wasn't unenjoyable necessarily, but come the umpteenth da capo aria I was longing for some change, some more vitality in the music. Handel's music, I often find, is not that interesting on the page -- it is more an outline of something interesting -- and if there is not a considerable interpretative and improvisatory effort it will not be a good performance. It is not like Bach, whose music is absolutely fascinating on the page, and not only requires little embellishment but hardly allows for any. Nor is it like Domenico Scarlatti, breaming with character and surprise, nor the sumptuous, inventive lyricism of Purcell. Handel is big, clear, memorable -- majestic, even -- but not, I suppose the word might be 'fine'. He often manages to say both too much and too little.

My problem might simply be the performances I've heard. I stumbled across this recording of Rindaldo by RenĂ© Jacobs and the Freiburger Barockorchester. Listening to the first half-hour, it's much, much better. Some early music groups have a rather stilted style, but this performance feels truly alive, indeed present:

What I've read, listened to and watched while under house arrest

I am too lazy at the moment to write this post in paragraphs, so it will instead take the form of a list. This suits me well as I am a compu...