Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Sunday Aesthetics: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Consider this building–Building A, for our purposes:
And now, consider Building B:
One of the great solaces of Ricochet is that I will not have to persuade anyone here–I hope–that the second is in fact more beautiful than the first, and that to say so is to say something more interesting than, “I like the second one better, although they’re both equally beautiful because of course that’s all relative.”
Nor do I think I’ll have much difficulty in persuading people to take seriously the idea that beauty–as an objective, external reality, perhaps even a Platonic one–may well be connected, in an important way, to moral goodness. (I may have trouble convincing some people here that this is so, but I’ll bet you’ll take it seriously, as an idea.)
I have lots more about this to say, as you may have guessed. But it’s still too fuzzy. I’d like to translate my broad intuitions about this into a very defensible argument, and for that, I need a robust theory of aesthetics. To my surprise, though, I’m finding the philosophical literature less helpful than I would wish. Perhaps I’m not looking in the right places?
So: can anyone suggest interesting ways to look at the following ten questions? (I think I can handle some of them quite well, but I’ll hold fire for now.)
- Why exactly is Building B more beautiful than Building A?
- Assuming that we have good answers to question 1), do they suggest principles that may be broadly applied to all buildings?
- Assuming the answer to 2) is yes, does this suggest principles that may broadly be applied to the idea of “beauty?”
- What are your intuitions about the connection between “the beautiful” and “the morally good,” particularly in this context? And 4a): What are your arguments, as opposed to your intutions?
- What are your intuitions about what it might do to human societies, morally, if they start constructing many more things that in terms of beauty are far closer to A than to B? And 5b): See 4a.
- Looking at 5) from a different angle, what are your intuitions about what might be going on, morally, when a given society begins to think it’s a good idea to build many more A-like buildings than B-like ones?
- Can you back up those intuitions with evidence?
- What, for that matter, would constitute “evidence?”
- If your intuition or answer thus far involves, “something morally bad is probably happening when the As start vastly exceeding the Bs,” can you rule out–with sound arguments, and even better, evidence–a response such as, “the answer here is less importantly connected to beauty and goodness than it is to changes in building technology and economics?” (I mean the latter in the sense of, “It costs less to build something like A.”)
- To which philosophers–particularly those who focus on aesthetics–would you turn in thinking through this problem?
Now, some special rules. To make this more fun and challenging for James Gawson, he, in particular, is not allowed to mention this. Others are however allowed and encouraged. To make this more fun and challenging for Gödel’s Ghost–and yes he is among us, apparently–he is not allowed to mention Moles, Nake, or Schmidhumer. Others are however allowed and encouraged. To make this more fun and challenging for us all, everyone is encouraged to see whether he or she can with a straight face and in all seriousness include a genuinely useful thought from a philosopher in the school of Derrida. And to make everyone stop laughing themselves half to death once they’ve tried that, I suggest a quick review of Vitruvius. That will sober you up right fast.
Published in General
It is still, in fact, a monstrosity and a desecration of Paris. I consider someone’s willingness to see and say that quite a good test, actually, of his ability to see and say the obvious despite what everyone else around him may be saying.
(I cut people who have not seen it in person a great deal of slack on this test. But I consider it quite a good sign about someone when I show it to him for the first time, and his natural, unforced reaction is both negative and forthright about it. And the more negative–and forthright–the more inclined I am to believe his head’s probably screwed on straight.)*
*I use “him” here only for euphony. This test is entirely equal-opportunity; men and women seem to pass in equal ratios. But their ability to pass is, in my experience, connected in interesting ways to their ability to make other important judgments.
I guess I’ll have to see the Eiffel Tower in situ some time. It beats Building A hollow in photographs. Probably has something to do with my being an old bridge freak.
I’ll try to remember to not be impressed.
Percival,
Don’t give up so easily.
Just because they are beautiful (and have an IQ out past 185) doesn’t make them right! Stand your ground!
Regards,
Jim
Regards,
You’re only saying that because Gustave Eiffel was Lutheran.
I’m only half-kidding (that is, I’m serious about the idea that the tower’s design may be connected to Eiffel’s Lutheranism, but that’s it).
More generally, it’s interesting to see how the persecution of French Lutherans resulted in some literally monumental works.
If a beautiful girl falls down in the woods and no one sees her, is she beautiful?
Sorry it took so long to get to this. IMHO Christopher Alexander can explain all of this.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Timeless-Building-Christopher-Alexander/dp/0195024028/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Timeless_Way_of_Building
Hard to sum up, but he believes there are recurring patterns in the universe, these patterns occur with matter, they recur in human nature, they occur in living systems, and when things we make are true to these patterns our creations seem natural and alive and satisfying. B has more of this than A.
– p
Claire,
As Percival has not replied I will try to take up his cause.
The Tower was made possible by the scientific-engineering-industrial developments of the 100 years proceeding. In specific Eiffel credits The Revolution of 1789 for the great scientific movement. I would once again look to Kant’s Dynamic Sublime for aesthetic appreciation of the Tower as if it were an isolated work of art. It is an expression of the pure dynamic power of the modern up to the 1880s. It succeeds in expressing this in spectacular fashion.
What Claire is talking about is looking at the aesthetic appeal of Paris as a city and how the Tower fits in to that. Here I am inclined to agree with Claire. Especially as one gets close to it, the Tower has a monstrous feel like a very large reptile among mammals.
The more we know about modernity’s downside the less we should be surprised by this.
Regards,
Jim
I wonder about this. Most of us know the tower out of context. As a thing separate from Paris. As a statuette or picture on a handbag. We like that image but does it fit where it stands? I hope to see for myself one day.
Many would have the same experience with the Statue of Liberty. But when you see the statue there, alone, near the city but not in the city, the effect is extraordinary. If that statue was in Central Park it would probably look silly.
Thought it would look the same as a statuette or on a handbag.
Sorry, Jim. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging.
Judging the whole based merely on photographs is impossible. If it were clad in the fashion of a covered bridge, it would be a first class eyesore, and the cries of “take it down” would be universal.
(Covered bridges are covered to protect the trusses, not the decking. Decking is easy to replace – trusses next to impossible.)
Sometimes I wish I could “extra-like” a comment, this is one of those times.
I know I promised to summarize those interesting comments on Twitter. And I also know I promised to explain American foreign policy. I have not forgotten. I just also have to do the laundry, pay the bills, and a few other things …
One thing we haven’t really touched on is what structures were erected when, and what influence technology might have had on their existence. In thinking of the Eiffel Tower, one thing that comes to mind is that it came about at essentially the same time as Hamiltonian mechanics, meaning that the equations necessary to describe the physical forces at play in such large structures became tractable (albeit still not easy to do by hand).
Regarding Eiffel’s Lutheranism, in addition to the spirit of mechanization that obtained generally in the Victorian era (cf. Steampunk), Protestant Christianity has always had a more-or-less explicit anti-ornamentation bias, based on the belief that physical beauty, certainly in places of worship but also more generally, can distract the unwary from the sense of awe that is due only to God. “Iconoclast,” after all, literally means “someone who spits on icons.” More recently, some interpreted Louis Sullivan’s “form follows function” to mean Sullivan was anti-ornamentation, although there’s nothing in either Sullivan’s writing or work to suggest he himself adhered to such an interpretation, as anyone familiar with his work in Chicago, and especially the World’s Fair, knows.
Casey,
Bravo. I think this is a great thought experiment. What if the Statue of Liberty was in Central Park? You are quite right. It would ruin the look of Central Park and ruin the look of the Statue of Liberty.
Regards,
Jim
GG,
I think the most significant advance was the Puddling Process for making wrought iron. This allowed for the mass production of a very high tensile strength iron at reasonable cost.
…hmmmm…now this brings up another thought experiment. Why didn’t Andrew Carnegie build his own version in Pittsburgh? He was the richest man in the world at the time and the metal was being produced right there. No transportation costs.
Casey, what do you think?
Regards.
Jim
To All,
Here’s a virtual tour of the Eiffel Tower.
Regards,
Jim
Sure woulda been a great way to stick it to Frick.
Casey,
OK. You’re in charge. Where does Andy Carnegie put his Pittsburgh Eiffel Tower and how big does he make it?
Here’s Pittsburgh in 1910.
Regards,
Jim
The Point would not have been viable at that time. I think I’d put it where the West End Overlook is today. Looking over the city. Large enough to see from the Point.
Still keeping my eyes out, Claire.
Michael Knox Beran in Fed 24, 2014 issue of NR.
Also, Chapter 1 of CS Lewis Surprised by Joy. Particularly a paragraph about midway through the chapter.
Casey,
I like the way you think. Location, location, location. Now, how tall is “large enough to be seen from the Point”? Can we photo shop to get an idea of its scale?
You know it would have been a great idea if Carnegie had actually done something artistic on that scale for Pittsburgh back then. Pittsburgh took a beating between the 1910 photo when Andrew Carnegie was still running around giving his vast fortune away and the post WWII Renaissance of Pittsburgh. During this period we were mercilessly attacked by no less a figure than H.L. Mencken in 1927.
Mencken was a very bright American writer of the first half of the 20th century. He was the first person to write a book about Nietzsche’s philosophy in English. He became one of most influential journalists in America.
I never liked Nietzsche’s philosophy and I never liked H.L. Mencken.
Regards,
Jim
All,
I didn’t mean to hijack Claire’s post by opening up a conversation on the Eiffel Tower. However James (and many others) seemed to agree that the physical context of any structure is important in determining whether we will see it as beautiful.
” What if the Statue of Liberty was in Central Park? You are quite right. It would ruin the look of Central Park and ruin the look of the Statue of Liberty.”
James G, thank you for making my original point better than I did.
Claire,
Is it possible we could read the essay this discussion was, hopefully, to inform?
I’ve had this thread and its implications in my the back of my mind for many days. I’ve nothing to add, but one, I couldn’t help but think of this little novel, Sapho (1884) by Alphonse Daudet. The plot, so often is delicately intertwined with the placement of rooms, windows, balconies, and their associations, including a Parisian apartment house, one of several, that I had imagined looking much like structure B. If you don’t know the work, I highly recommend for it’s story, style and pathos.
God willing, yes. I’m working on it.
Imagine what my mind looks like, then, given that I’m the one who has to write that essay.
Will put that on the reading list, too. Thank you.
Uh-oh. That’s maybe not as dispositive as the Eiffel Tower test, but surely not readily understandable to me …
Okay, at some point it becomes impossible for me to answer every comment in a meaningful way and still hold down a day job, but one thing I will say: I think, in the history of Ricochet, that this has been my favorite thread. (My memory of others may be too hazy now, though; I’ve been around for a while.) The number of interesting comments and the degree to which they’ve been genuinely thoughtful and thought-provoking is quite amazing. If I didn’t already have a Reagan membership (which Ricochet has been kind enough to offer me gratis), I’d shell out a latte-a-month sum for a membership based on this, for sure.
I heartily agree to dislike for H.L. Mencken. He was very influential, which is very unfortunate. He was a celebrated journalist, and his influence was greatest on the guys who eventually became the first professors of journalism when universities started those programs. He is as responsible as any single individual on the horrible state of journalism in America.
He was a Famous Atheist, elitist, pain in the rear. He was a thoroughgoing racist, and he wrote really disturbingly bitter and awful caricatures of small towns and of the South. He reinforced and contributed to the stereotypes that East Coast cosmopolitans have of what we now call “flyover country.”
Even the flattering portrayal of Mencken by Gene Kelly in “Inherit the Wind” strikes me as a guy you would want to avoid.
This whole discussion puts me in mind of interactions I have had with architects. As an engineer I have worked with a number of architects, and the field of architecture seems to me worthy of its own discussion. As an architect works his way up, there seems to be an artistic bug that fuels the growth of ego. (In my experience, a project that involves lots of money and multiple architects soon becomes a clash of the titan egos.)
I will note that the size of the ego does seem to be unrelated to my aesthetic view of the end product.
MJ,
I am glad we agree on Mencken. As for architects, I know what you mean. I can tell you that where I live aesthetics is very serious business. When we were building the Synagogue, something you would assume transcended the ego, all aesthetic h*ll broke loose. We had a local architect (don’t underestimate the locals round here) and a New York architect. Both young, talented, accomplished, and aggressive. It was a two year battle royal, drawing after drawing. Luckily Gd intervened and we have a very beautiful Synagogue as a result.
Regards,
Jim