Elizabeth Anscombe criticizes Kant for ignoring the importance of a relevant description of human action. She points out that he assumes coming up with a relevant description is non-problematic for moral philosophy. But as a matter of fact, different persons will describe the same action differently according to whether or not they possess virtue. That is, according to their ability to recognize the good in concrete situations.
One could regard a particular bucket of sand as rather simple or as rather complex, based upon one's regard for the purpose of that bucket. If you think someone scooped or filled it without much of a thought for how the granules are located with respect to each other, then one will find a simple description for the bucket. In fact, one might find a mathematical equation that would prescind from the consideration of the exact location of each grain and not take into account the variations in the sizes of the granules. If one thought of the bucket of sand as a kind of work of art (that is, sand in a glass container with layers having different colors, arranged like the colors of the spectrum) then the complexity in one's description would increase. If one had the ability to scan the precise size and location of each crystal and thought the mathematical description of these sizes and locations were a kind of code, then one would regard the bucket as being complex.
Regard for complexity presupposes a relevant description, and that description is always in terms of what the thing -- be it a bucket, a human body, or a brain -- is good for. But that thing that it is good for is, in comparison to the complexity, something simple. So it might be better to talk about simplexity rather than complexity. But then again, someone already invented that word...
In any case, my point (I think) is that we must practice the virtue of regard for what human life is good for when we talk about the complexity of the human body (or just the brain, which is a current fad). We need to acknowledge that, methodologically speaking, some presumed answer to the simple question of what our life is for comes before the pursuit of the answer to the question of how life may involve complexity.
One could regard a particular bucket of sand as rather simple or as rather complex, based upon one's regard for the purpose of that bucket. If you think someone scooped or filled it without much of a thought for how the granules are located with respect to each other, then one will find a simple description for the bucket. In fact, one might find a mathematical equation that would prescind from the consideration of the exact location of each grain and not take into account the variations in the sizes of the granules. If one thought of the bucket of sand as a kind of work of art (that is, sand in a glass container with layers having different colors, arranged like the colors of the spectrum) then the complexity in one's description would increase. If one had the ability to scan the precise size and location of each crystal and thought the mathematical description of these sizes and locations were a kind of code, then one would regard the bucket as being complex.
Regard for complexity presupposes a relevant description, and that description is always in terms of what the thing -- be it a bucket, a human body, or a brain -- is good for. But that thing that it is good for is, in comparison to the complexity, something simple. So it might be better to talk about simplexity rather than complexity. But then again, someone already invented that word...
In any case, my point (I think) is that we must practice the virtue of regard for what human life is good for when we talk about the complexity of the human body (or just the brain, which is a current fad). We need to acknowledge that, methodologically speaking, some presumed answer to the simple question of what our life is for comes before the pursuit of the answer to the question of how life may involve complexity.
Comments
First of all, Heidegger was a good enough mathematician to serve on doctoral committees for dissertations by math PhDs.
Secondly, I think reductionists are pretty naive about where science comes from. It comes from a scientist acting for a purpose. Reductionists forget the obvious because they are animated by a sometimes feverish desire to come up with something new.