Cats have no need of philosophy or religion

John Gray is an author who is sometimes irritating (to me, at least) but always interesting. He provokes in intelligent, witty, well-reasoned ways.

My main gripe about Gray is that he often uses a sort of "straw man" argument where he selects the writings of one person to represent a much more diverse way of thinking. He did this in Seven Types of Atheism, which I thought I'd enjoy but instead found annoying for that reason.

But after seeing a mention of his new book in The New Yorker, I eagerly bought a copy of Feline Philosophy: Cats and the Meaning of Life. I've read the first two chapters of this short book and am thoroughly enjoying it.

Gray says about cats:

That cats acknowledge no leaders may be one reason they do not submit to humans. They neither obey nor revere the human beings with which so many of them cohabit.

Even as they rely on us, they remain independent of us. If they show affection for us, it is not just cupboard love. If they do not enjoy our company, they leave. If they stay, it is because they want to be with us. This too is a reason why many of us cherish them.

I really liked the following passage from Gray's first chapter, "Cats and Philosophy." It is indeed strange that we humans find the world to be such a threatening place, we have to fashion religions and philosophies to soothe ourselves.

No other animal does this, which shows that we have a lot to learn from cats and other wise non-human creatures. Gray writes:

Cats have no need of philosophy. Obeying their nature, they are content with the life it gives them. In humans, on the other hand, discontent with their nature seems to be natural.

With predictably tragic and farcical results, the human animal never ceases striving to be something that it is not. Cats make no such effort.

Much of human life is a struggle for happiness. Among cats, on the other hand, happiness is the state to which they default when practical threats to their well-being are removed. 

That may be the chief reason many of us love cats. They possess as their birthright a felicity humans regularly fail to attain.

The source of philosophy is anxiety, and cats do not suffer from anxiety unless they are threatened or find themselves in a strange place. For humans, the world itself is a threatening and strange place.

Religions are attempts to make an inhuman universe humanly habitable.

Philosophers have often dismissed these faiths as being far beneath their own metaphysical speculations, but religion and philosophy serve the same need. Both try to fend off the abiding disquiet that goes with being human.

Simple-minded folk will say the reason cats do not practice philosophy is that they lack the capacity for abstract thought. But one can imagine a feline species that had this ability while still retaining the ease with which they inhabit the world.

If these cats turned to philosophy, it would be as an amusing branch of fantastic fiction. Rather than looking to it as a remedy for anxiety, these feline philosophers would engage in it as a kind of play.

Instead of being a sign of their inferiority, the lack of abstract thinking among cats is a mark of their freedom of mind.

Thinking in generalities slides easily into a superstitious faith in language. Much of the history of philosophy consists of the worship of linguistic fictions. Relying on what they can touch, smell, and see, cats are not ruled by words.

Philosophy testifies to the frailty of the human mind.

Humans philosophize for the same reason they pray. They know the meaning in their lives is fragile and live in dread of its breaking down. Death is the ultimate breakdown in meaning, since it marks the end of any story they have told themselves.

So they imagine passing on to a life beyond the body in a world out of time, and the human story continuing in this other realm.

Throughout much of its history, philosophy has been a search for truths that are proof against mortality. Plato's doctrine of forms -- unchanging ideas that exist in an eternal realm -- was a mystical vision in which human values were secured against death. 

Thinking nothing of death -- while seeming to know well enough when it is time to die -- cats have no need of these figments. If they could understand it, philosophy would have nothing to teach them.

Comments

[S]

Does Gray’s book say anything about the Egyptian worship of cats?

Indeed, “cats are not ruled by words” especially the words no and stfu. We’ve had 5 cats during our marriage and the last one left alive is 16 years old. He still owns us. We keep saying we’ll never get another cat but honestly, I don’t know what we’d have left to talk about... they’ve saved our marriage. 😸 💕

[anami]

My DOGma ate my karma.
Yes, I went there.

[S]

My DOGma ate my karma.
Yes, I went there.

Posted by: anami | December 18, 2020 at 10:39 AM

No you didn’t. 😑

‘Catma’

entomology: the ant-thesis of dogma. catma is to dogma, as a fickel cat is to a loyal dog.

“1. a catma is a belief espoused by a relgion which must be understood by all members of that religion. although it must be understood, it does not have to be accepted as truth because proof of the catma may not yet exist or be accepted, or that proof requires postulates that the adherant to the religion may not presently accept.

karma is a catma to hinduism.

a’la’s perfection and omnicence is a catma to islam. (it is not a dogma becuase islam has no central hierarchal structure to enforce any dogmas.)
that all religions are one is a catma to baha’i.”

—difinithing.com

[anami]

Catma, that's a new one!

I goofed the pun. Usually it's "My karma ran over your dogma" or something like that, right?

[S]

@anami

Haha, yess...

When I was a “fair” person I thought karma was such an enlightened concept. Because, you know, suffering always ends with such good results. 🙄

Suffering begets suffering. I’m about over it.

[Spence Tepper]

Pets, sadly, usually die in disease and pain. And often in neglect. Often their death is for our convenience. We didn't intend to give them up for adoption, or euthanize them, but our life, and their suffering lead us to make decisions we never thought we would have to make. From a broader perspective, almost everyone dies in pain, trauma, or that is cut short by killing. Rare are the few who die peacefully in sleep. But it remains a question whether the deaths of our pets are more or less tragic than our own. If we can prepare for an easier, less painful transition, naturally, by the practice of meditation, of "dying daily" using the capability built into the body, I would suggest it is a good use of our human capabilities. If something is built into our own body to deal with the inevitable, that we can develop for that, a happy, ecstatic transition, then I believe wisdom lies in using it, developing it, however that is couched in culture - bound terminology. If worshipping an idea of life itself beyond this limited life gives us that, changes even our biochemistry and even our brain functioning for the good, so that we carry that reservoir of peace and happiness through all kinds of difficulties including decline and death, than it is foolish not to pursue it.

We can look to the fate of our beloved pets to accept the inevitable, and pursue what nature has wonderfully provided for each of us, if we accept the inevitability of our death, while there is still time to develop this power, and give that required time to developing this latent potential.