Sunday, November 3, 2024

Does Dog Exist? A tail of philosophy, AI, and the pursuit of happiness.

Dog?
In a scan of The Atlantic homepage recently, I came across Are You a Platonist or an Aristotelian? I was especially intrigued by the subtitle: "Your answer may determine how happy you can be." I thought it might be useful given what's happening, both normal (Earth's 23º tilt + orbital position = shorter days) and very much abnormal (US elections).

However not far into the article I was sidetracked from my pursuit of happiness when I learned that "Does Dog exist?" is an eternal question among philosophers, debated at least since 400 BC. Was Plato right? Is there an unchanging ideal that is the true essence of Dog? Or was Aristotle right? Are our diverse too-short-lived dogs all that we have?

September 2014, Uinta Mountains.
September 2024, Canyonlands—our 10th anniversary :)
Having had canine field assistants most of my career, I tend to feel I'm an expert on such topics. Also, I think philosophers delight in making easy questions difficult, for example "Does Dog exist?". But my actual knowledge of philosophy is minuscule, so I queried DuckDuckGo (my preferred search engine).

At the top of the page, above the results, I was offered the services of DuckAssist—DDG's AI—which "scans the web for relevant content and then uses AI-powered natural language technology to generate a brief answer". I was very curious. I clicked on "Generate" and after just a second or two, DuckAssist replied:
"The question of whether a dog truly exists can be explored through philosophical discussions about particulars and universals. A dog, as a particular animal, is undeniably real and can be seen and touched, while the concept of "dog" as a category represents a set of characteristics that define what it means to be a dog."
That's it?! You would think that after nearly two millennia there would be a better answer. Maybe the problem lies with DuckAssist; after all this is a Beta release. So I continued to the two websites it recommended.

The first—Is a Dog Really a Dog? at Philosophy is Not a Luxury—was similar to DuckAssist's answer but much longer. It may have been the main or only source of content. Not convinced that "philosophy is not a luxury", I went to the second recommended site: I wag, therefore I am in The Guardian.
Philosopher in front, student (Mark Rowland) behind; promo photo from The Guardian.
At this site there was nothing about whether Dog exists. Instead, author Mark Rowland discussed dog philosophy in an excerpt from his book, The Happiness of Dogs. Apparently DuckAssist missed the mark by making a common AI error, specifically "Too Eager to Please". But it was a nice coincidence, as my dog does this too.
Just trying to help!
Emmie is half Basenji and therefore bred to kill small animals. This she does eagerly, even those that never lived. Likewise, an AI is driven by its breeding:

"Generative AI needs to create a response to your query, even if it isn’t capable of giving you one ... If the AI doesn’t have enough actual information in its knowledge base, it fills in gaps with stuff that sounds like it could be correct ..." (more here).

But is this really an error? After all, DuckAssist brought me back to the pursuit of happiness. Maybe it read my mind!

Rowland, a philosopher himself, considers dogs "natural philosophers"—they understand "what is important in [life], and how to live it. Philosophers have done their best to address these questions, with limited success. But dogs answer them effortlessly and decisively. Humans think about these questions, but dogs live them."

So much joy in life!
Our problem is that each of us is two beings—"one who thinks and one who is thought about". It's too much thinking that keeps us from being happy. In contrast, a dog—single being that it is—can enjoy something no matter how minor or familiar, and without asking why, or whether it's worth doing.

This certainly is true of Emmie. All it takes is these five words—"Let's go check the mail"—for her to explode with joy. She spins round and round, her small compact body making tight circles along the path all the way to the end of the fence, where she then barks and races off to get any rabbits hiding under the junipers (she has yet to catch one but no matter).

Rowland asks whether humans can ever experience this kind of joy. I too wonder. He says that because we have two lives—"the life that we live and the life that we think about, scrutinise, evaluate and judge"—we can never love life as a dog does. For one thing, a dog doesn't struggle to find meaning in life, while we too often do.

But there's hope. Both Rowland and I are sure that our dogs can help in our pursuit of happiness. We just have to pay attention.

Stay warm.

Maybe yoga will help (Upside-down Dog pose).
What's your purpose in life? To keep your dog happy, of course!

My role model?

NOTE  

The article about philosophy and happiness is by Arthur C. Brooks, a regular contributor to The Atlantic. He argues that Platonists emphasize what they are, which can interfere with happiness, while Aristotelians have greater potential for happiness because they define themselves mainly as works in progress. But he adds, "Neither being nor becoming is exclusively true or exists to the exclusion of the other." I can't say I was persuaded; maybe I didn't fully understand. If you want to give it a try, read the article here.

6 comments:

  1. What a fun post! "Hi" to your four-legged friends from mine (a dog and a cat). I will check out that article. Thanks!

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  2. From the eclectic mind only a Stanford graduate could posses is a tale about a dog's tail. After pushing rocks and plants to the back recesses of her mind she pondered the everlasting question of "Is a dog really a dog." I read the post a couple of times before realizing that she was telling readers to be happy and bound out the door to check the mail! I did a little substitution and decided that I am really happy when I go out most nights to check the moon and night sky or immerse myself checking out my mineral drawers or remembering how my old basset hound was a real joy in my life. However, my mind has never really allowed me to focus on the eternal question of is a dog really a dog. Must be all that mournful howling wind up there in Wyoming that allows the mind to function on the critical and important questions of life. Up here in Wisconsin I simply wonder how deep the snow will get this winter. However, it is a joy to read posts from an author with multifarious talents and interests.

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    1. Anon, you really are wonderful (in case you didn't agree with my past assertions). And clever ... it wasn't until I got to "minerals" that it dawned on me ... Mike!
      I'm still chuckling. Thanks, I needed that :))))

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    2. Hi Hollis. I found this wonderful article tonight while surfing the WEB. Described how Scandinavians enjoy the winter and getting in touch with each other and with nature. I am convinced this section describes your field assistant: Friluftsliv (which literally means “open-air life”) reflects the idea of feeling fully alive when immersed in nature. It’s a belief that you should weave the natural world into your everyday activities. Now, does that fit in with a dog's tail? Probably not but your photos show Emmie to feel fully alive when out in nature. In looking back into sections of my life I probably felt the most "fully alive" standing on a Colorado 14er (esp. since I did not start on 14ers until my 60s).. I was fully immersed in nature and thrilled to be among the living (although at times I was pulling for air!). So thanks for a break from the trees--it made me happy and excited to skip down to the bookstore tomorrow and locate a copy of 2016’s The Little Book of Hygge: The Danish Way to Live Well by Meik Wiking. MIKE

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    3. Mike, I so agree! as in daily walks and hot baths :)

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