Is there a victim here?

I guess a lot of people take issue with viewing Lourdes Torres as a victim (check out this piece by Doug Wilson to see what I’m talking about), and I guess I see the confusion.

She was an adult when all of this happened, after all.

Well, legally, yeah. Duh. But to assume that abuse can only happen to legal minors is ridiculous. There is no magical difference between 17 and 18. It’s a convenient definition that makes a useful distinction. But people can be taken advantage of no matter what their age is. Master manipulators (and, let’s be honest, Doug Phillips looks like he’s one of these) can even take your intelligence, your willpower, and your good intentions and use them all against you until you are a pathetic shell of the person you once were.

So just because someone is an adult and should be able to take care of themselves is not a reason to take them to task when they fail to protect themselves. (and of note here is that both men and women can be taken advantage of in this way; this is not a women are weak issue; it’s more of a some people are evil and way, way too powerful issue)

Doug Wilson’s comment here tragically misses the point: “We can’t have it both ways. We cannot accuse Vision Forum of treating all women like little girls, and then turn around and treat all women as little girls who can’t be expected to say no to a cad at Vision Forum. Everyone who automatically assumes that Torres-Manteufel was the victim is ironically buying into a view of the world that assumes that grown women are not responsible for what they say or do.”

I think the reason we assume Ms. Torres was a victim is because we think we have an insight into how she probably ended up where she did.

She was most likely taught her whole life to submit to men. You might say, “No, what a girl is taught is to submit to one man, either her father or her husband,” but the thing is, you’re taught to do that because they are male. It causes some confusion.

“Eve was deceived,” girls are told. And so they learn not to trust themselves. When a man Lourdes had been especially taught to trust and revere wanted her to do something against her better judgment, she likely didn’t feel confident enough in herself to stand up to him. She’d been told her whole life that women need men to protect them because their own judgment isn’t trustworthy.

She was set up. She didn’t stand a chance.

And, more directly in response to Pastor Wilson’s comment, a woman who has been trained not to act like an adult, to let others make her decisions, to look for direction from males, may not be equipped to act like an adult. That isn’t proof that women are incapable of taking care of themselves. That’s evidence that Vision Forum is bad for you.


Why read Plato (and maybe Aristotle)

I posted yesterday on some misconceptions about Plato and Aristotle. Here’s a brief explanation of why I think they matter.

As a student of the Liberal Arts I find myself having to justify my college choices a lot. If not to others, at least I have to justify them to myself. What am I even doing?

There’s a lot of rhetoric surrounding Classical/Liberal Arts education, some of it good, some of it bad. I’m actually unpersuaded by it more often than not. Your college education will not teach you how to think. If you can’t think by the time you’re in college, I don’t actually know how much hope there is for you. And honestly, I’ve seen Liberal Arts graduates who are every bit as much parrots as their counterparts in other fields. The Liberal Arts cannot defend you from being a sycophant or a sluggard. Really. And if anyone tells you otherwise, they probably just want your money.

Yet here I am, about to graduate with a “useless” degree. We can set aside the fact that I plan to study theology after this and so engineering or nursing or something else practical wouldn’t have helped me anyway. There’s still the question of what I have gained.

One thing I’ve gained is Plato. I wish I could claim a thorough understanding of his work, but reading a few dialogues could not possibly make me an expert. And yet I feel like I know the guy.

One of the awesome things about Plato’s dialogues is the way they draw you in. You are listening and responding to a conversation. This comes with its own challenges, of course, but it’s a rewarding experience. You must pay very close attention in order to follow the argument. Some things are unspoken. Some things may even be unfairly assumed. You have to wrestle with the text to find out.

Plato pushes his readers to think things through on a level they probably very rarely reach. Little did I know when I began reading Gorgias that what seemed to begin as a mockery of Rhetoric would actually become a story with a sense of great moral urgency (no, don’t read it looking for drama; you’ll be disappointed. But if you read and engage with it, you may find it has more to hold your interest than you would have thought). Phaedo nearly made me cry. The pursuit of Beauty and Truth is so real for Plato’s Socrates, so important, so vital, it should put us Christians, who claim to love the Truth, to shame.

Plato is a mental workout, but he offers a lot more than this. His chosen topics are perennially relevant and he explores them in a way that few others do. One can, it seems, come alongside Socrates in the pursuit of truth, and while the dialogues are not the final word in understanding, they are an excellent place to begin.

I don’t have as much to say in favor of Aristotle. He’s not as familiar to me nor do most of his writings strike me with the same sense of urgency. But I can say for the Nicomachean Ethics at least that his pursuit of goodness does not seem far from Plato. Here, too, it is possible to glimpse something beyond us and our concerns, a beauty that we long for, that we seem to be made for, which drives us to seek after it. What that thing is, though, Aristotle is not going to tell you.

As a mental exercise, Aristotle has a lot to offer. It’s a different kind of work than reading Plato, but it is definitely work. He demands a close attention to detail and careful thought in order to hear what he is saying.

Maybe these thinkers are too difficult to be worth the struggle. Maybe there are better uses of your mental efforts, but I doubt it. These two can teach you to think thoroughly and carefully, to pursue Truth tirelessly, and maybe even wake up your sense of wonder. If we threw Aquinas in there I think we might actually have an excellent mental training regimen. If you are able to read, dissect, and intelligibly discuss Plato, Aristotle, and Aquinas, your brain ought to be well equipped to handle any intellectual pursuit with relative ease. Now it is possible that reading somebody like John Calvin will equip you with more practical and easily accessible information for your daily life (yes, I just called John Calvin “practical”), and students should definitely seek out such reading, but Aristotle and Plato, more than most others, can serve as an excellent introduction into the Great Conversation on what it means to be human.

Ever heard of Plato? Aristotle? Socrates? Morons.

This post is to inform you that if you think you know what Plato and Aristotle are about, you’re probably wrong. Unless, of course, you’ve studied them, in which case you should probably teach me. Hopefully I can follow this up with a short explanation of why studying them is fruitful. The caveat here is that I have read several of Plato’s dialogues once each and only portions of Aristotle’s Rhetoric, Metaphysics, and Nicomachean Ethics. So I am drawing from a general sense of things and not an expert knowledge.

So let’s see what the general impression of both of these fine gentlemen is (or at least what I had been taught about them)


  • Forms and Ideals (He has an ideal chair of which all other chairs are an imitation)
  • The Cave (we only perceive shadows of reality)
  • Goes from the general to the particular (relates to the Forms)
  • Our senses cannot be trusted
  • BUT his redeeming quality is that he’s monotheistic


  • Particular to general (Opposed to Plato. These guys are at war)
  • The virtuous thing is the mean (so being extreme is always bad)
  • Trusts his senses/observes (once again: opposed to Plato!)
  • His idea of God is ???

Okay, I’m sure I left some things out, but I think that is the major stuff.

Much of this is at least semi-truthful, but still these general understandings are not perhaps representative of either thinker.

To begin with Plato, I think we must begin by trying to understand what he’s trying to do. Our ideas of Philosophy probably get in the way here. We want to be able to quickly and easily summarize a philosopher’s ideas about the Entire World and Everything That Is and How the World Really Works. Plato does seem to have a fairly comprehensive “world view” that he works out in his dialogues, but we must remember that, more than anything, he is an ethical philosopher. He writes about the good life, and what is justice and topics of this nature. True, he also writes about Knowledge (a lot actually), which seems more esoteric, but one must understand how his ideas of the Good, the True, and the Beautiful are all tied up together (which is actually one of the things that makes him of particular interest to the Christian reader. But we’ll get to that later).

Thus, if you read Plato talking about the Forms and think about an Ideal Chair, you’re missing the point. The Forms most of all are things like Truth, Justice, Equality, essentially all the things we seem to have innate understanding/recollection of. I’m not sure if there are other Forms for him or not, but if there are these take a backseat to the much bigger issues.

So, when we look at the Cave and at his apparent distrust of the senses, we need to know what we’re looking at. Plato believed in the immortality of the soul. And it seemed to him that all the truly good things we experience are most of all related to the soul more than to the body (knowledge, truth, and beauty all seem to relate primarily to our souls. And I think we can agree with this). As such, it’s fairly irrelevant to him what exactly we believe about our senses in general, but we can pretty safely say that they lie to us when it comes to what’s really good for us. Bodily pleasure tells your senses that it is your ultimate good, but, hopefully, your soul knows better, that there’s more to life than that. This is the way our senses lie to us, at least primarily, and I think it would be hard to argue with that. That actually seems to jive pretty well with Christian belief. The things that are most Real are not necessarily the things most present to our senses.

When we get to Aristotle, we start comparing the two. Here we get into the general to particular vs. particular to general. Now, I guess this is true more or less, but I’m not sure it’s always put in the right framework. It does not follow from this that Aristotle is a much better scientist than Plato (although I guess you could suggest that he tried, which Plato did not bother with). Actually, both of them make bad scientists because of what they have in common. Both do philosophy based on general human understanding and the way that people speak about things. This can be a very enlightening approach, but it is not well adapted to science, because science depends on precision, and neither uses language which is precise in that way. (This is not to say that their language choices aren’t careful and deliberate, but both generalize and move from idea to idea in a way that lacks scientific preciseness. Aristotle codified much of this generalization in such a way that probably actually stultified scientific development for some time to come. You cannot do good science based primarily on language)

Further, the particular to general or vice versa argument is not an argument about the senses. It has much more to do with the Problem of Universals and whether you can locate something like Justice or Beauty or whatever you like outside of the particulars it appears in or not. This is a fascinating discussion and incredibly difficult to resolve and so should be treated with respect and care, at least in my opinion.

And very quickly, when Aristotle writes about the “mean,” he is not writing about doing a calculation of what the exact middle response to any situation would be. It’s much more like observing what is fitting and appropriate to a given situation. And he acknowledges that something can be a mean and an extreme at the same time depending on what we are considering it to be a mean in regard to. Hopefully I can write more on this later, but the general idea here is that it’s nothing so silly as calculating how not to be extreme.

That’s all I have for now, but hopefully I can find more time to dig into this further, because I think we should do these brilliant minds the justice of understanding them properly.