epistemological justification of transcendent truths

You still reading after that title?

There was a really cool article precipitated by Christopher Hitchens being diagnosed with terminal cancer and mocking the idea of a deathbed conversion, that brought up the question of how and when we can be said to be in a mindset where we can appreciate transcendent experiences and Truth-with-a-capital-T.

On the one hand, the position that seems like the default intuitive answer is that we can come to know things best (assuming we can know anything at all, obviously) when we are calm, at peace, as the epistemologist Yoda once said. Without pressures and stress, free to reason and reflect, we are least likely to make errors in reasoning, and most likely to notice and remember pertinent facts.

On the other hand, the traditional idea for the last, oh, ever, has been that we are open to a religious experience when our life falls apart, or in incredible pain, or near death. "There are no atheists in foxholes", the (entirely false) old saw has it. Deathbed conversions, similarly, are a staple of religious life. This article, also about Hitchens's desire to discount any cry for a god he might make at the last moment, sums up that position neatly, when it says

Hitchens is a proud man who has much to be proud about. He sees the humility that cancer is likely to impose on him as a trap for his mind -- as something that may compel him to do something he wouldn't do in his right mind. He's right about that: it just might. What he's wrong about is assuming that truths that suffering may yet reveal to him are bound to be lies. He should at least consider that the comfort he has been living in for all his life -- a world of security, wealth, pleasure and fame that his considerable talents have earned him -- might actually be deceiving him by concealing certain truths.

Now, it's easy enough for me to just sit here and say that this is pretty thin gruel. And so I will! (don't worry I'll get back on point in the next paragraph): it is known that we make errors in reasoning when under duress, it is known people in pain, on medications, etc. are not able to perceive properly, and it is known that fear can make one say and even believe almost anything. This is why tortured confessions aren't accepted in courts (except in backwards, benighted countries), and why you aren't allowed to make a will unless of sound mind. Trying to say that you can't make good decisions, unless you accept the premise (God) I want you to accept, in which case it counts, is pretty weak, especially given that the premise in question is a magical sky daddy who could potentially save you. (seriously, click on that last link. Best. line. ever.)

...As I said, it's easy enough for me to just sit here and criticize that position, but that isn't really what I wanted to talk about (it was just a bit of fun). What I did want to talk about is that the second idea of suffering leading us to truth has been historically the only game in town, and even now is very widespread and perhaps in the majority. Yet it was the first idea -- that of the rational agent sitting in his bed and thinking about everything in order to arrive at truth -- that was the intuitive one for me, and I'd dare wager for virtually everyone else practicing philosophy. The Enlightenment's ideas of individualism and rationality are the ones seen as intuitively obvious among philosophers, because the class "philosophers" is a self-selecting one which strongly favors its members to be the kind of rationalists that like to sit in bed and think of things. And this is the problem, because if philosophy is to pursue anything like a universal program (to the extent that one is even possible) and not just a "what do I and people almost exactly like me think" club, then it must broaden its base for "intuitively obvious" beyond university professors who like to read a lot.

Chew this over for now, and I'll say more on it another day.