THESIS XII
A Philosophical Review
Volume 16 • Number 2
March, 2009
INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Keane S. Lundt
Socratic Self-Examination
Louis E. Stelling
Sociolinguistic Lessons for the
Classroom
Benjamin Hollows
Socrates’ Body and Soul
Daniel Sadlocha
The Way of Objectivity
Derek Anderson
A Cup of Coffee Refused at Peter’s
Place
Socratic Self-Examination
Keane S. Lundt
Humankind may not survive into the 22nd century without self-examination. By self-examination I mean an in-depth analysis of how we live our lives, a rigorous investigation of the social mores of our time. Self-examination is an internal dialogue that questions everything sequentially, retrospectively, and consequentially. For the curious mind, it is a desideratum in the coalescence and refinement of Sensus communis (1) and systematically learned knowledge.
Critical thinking, such as Socratic self-examination (2), procures thoughtful deliberation as a core principle and necessary condition for clarity of thought. Careful observance and consideration of our needs and wants (3) postulates wisdom and moderation in our decision-making processes, while insightful discourse invigorates the faculties, both of our emotional embodiment and our mental perception. Our direct participation in experience, the doing, is essential to pragmatic investigations positing empirical reasoning; we gain hands-on edification through our command, scrutiny, and assiduous reexamination of potentially available or accessible information (4). Questioning personal and societal convention challenges us to think introspectively, ontologically, and cosmologically about the choices we make; and primes us in our defense, modification, or eschewal of previously selected preferences.
Self-examination builds our confidence...strengthens our alliances...and secures our place in this world as thoughtful self-reflective individuals having the distinguishing characteristics of personal responsibility, compassion, and stewardship encompassing a comprehensive worldview. Self-examination has palpable short and long-term health benefits as well; mental exercise nurtures and maintains maximum cognitive ability as we grow older, staving off potential neurodegenerative diseases, such as Alzheimer’s and other dementia (5).
The self-examiner guards against tendencies to conform to unchallenged dogmas, age-old
traditions, untested convictions, as well as modern commercialization presented in the guise of camaraderie and sanctioned mass acceptance (6). Impassioned patient and respectful inquiry may reveal blind spots and subconscious patterns of behavior that contribute to conscious repetition. Periodical excavations into the self are necessary to prevent self-deception from convincing us that our most significant and protected principles are universally and unconditionally sound. Self-examination brings to fruition our desire to know the truth about ourselves; and develops an exigent “moral courage” (7) that fortifies our inevitable confrontation with truth as we understand it, meritoriously noting that it may not be harmonious with the life we want to live.
Self-examination instills in us both a humility and efficacy; we are aware of our infallibility and fragility, but also of our strength and purpose. Self-examination instructs us, through constructive analysis and argument, how to live a life that considers all humanity, the animal kingdom, and planet Earth. As self-examiners we acknowledge our importance as individuals. We celebrate our uniqueness in a global community. And, we embrace inherent responsibility prevalent in all of our behaviors and actions, aware of the significant incremental impact on a global level. Self-examination is a primer for such ethical questions as: How should we live? Do we strive for personal, or universal happiness? Shall we aim at morality, virtue, truth, or the aesthetically beautiful? Do we have an ethical obligation to future generations of life?
Self-examination is necessary for us to begin to understand goodness. Integrity, honesty, and compassion for all creatures sharpens our perception, informs our judgment, and ignites our imagination in the creation of a forum where our greatest potential is realized in simple and noble achievements. Self-examination propels us into important, yet fun, discussions that engage our skepticism and stimulate our innate ability to live a purposeful life.
Notes
1. Literally common sense, the phrase denotes not only widespread belief, but more widely a shared sensibility.
2. Socrates’ method of critical analysis and argument exercised a form of questioning employed to draw out elusive, dormant, or subconscious truth and insight in his interlocutors.
3. Kant posits needs and wants as conditional objectives that are not justifiable when moral obligation is superseded by a desire to reach selfish ends. Means, needs, wants, and longings must possess pure intent and each must exist as an “End in itself”. Ends arrived at by means possessing “moral duty” are intrinsically valid, virtuous, and universally good (Kant’s “Categorical Imperative”)“Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals”, 1785
4. “Public use of reason and unrestricted freedom is required for enlightenment.” Kant states that we must utilize native common sense and “have the courage to use our own understanding.” Not to do so is a case of “self-imposed immaturity”. “An Answer to the Question: What is Enlightenment?” 1784 Berlincshe Monatsschrift.
5. Mental exercise such as: decision making, language skills, social engagement, games, puzzles, music, and creativity, may promote the growth of additional synapses, the connection between neurons, and delay the onset of dementia. The Healthy Brain Initiative: A National Public Road Map to Maintaining Cognitive Health. (Alzheimer’s Association, 2008).
6. Some commercial advertising distracts and deceives consumers, and has an interest in keeping the public as uninformed as possible.
7.Silliman, Sentience and Sensibility, (Parmenides Publishing, 2006) 66.
Keane S. Lundt is a student at MCLA
~~~
Sociolinguistic Lessons for the Language Classroom
Louis E. Stelling
When I conducted sociolinguistic interviews with Franco-American (1) consultants in Southbridge, Massachusetts in the summer of 2003, (2) I was intrigued by the linguistic behaviors of some of the informants. By examining the relationships between the language attitudes of these consultants and their willingness to use French, I will highlight ways in which lessons learned from the Franco-American community can be applied in the language classroom.
The informants who interested me the most can be divided into three groups. The first consisted of those who were able to have a conversation in French and translate complex sentences but who rarely or never used the language in their daily lives. The second group of speakers did not want to be interviewed in French despite the fact that they were quite capable of speaking the language according to other members of the community. The third group understood French perfectly but struggled with limited productive skills throughout the conversation. However, they were happy to do so and reportedly made similar efforts to use the language with others.
It occurred to me that the first two scenarios lead to a diminished use of French. For group one, this was due to the notion of impracticality. These speakers simply saw no use for French in their community. The language went unused by members of group two because of linguistic insecurity. Regardless of how fluent these speakers were, they did not want to use French with an outsider because of negative feelings about their own speech. Of the three groups, the third was the only one whose members promoted the use of French. A positive attitude towards their mother tongue led these consultants to use it with others. When we consider the three situations together, it is interesting that the choice of whether or not to continue to speak French has little or nothing to do with fluency and everything to with language attitudes.
If we apply this idea to language teaching, it becomes evident that in order to produce students who want to continue to learn and to use any language other than that of the majority around them, we must foster positive attitudes in the classroom. Educators must help students to see the language as practical and useful. Additionally, students must be made to feel that their efforts to speak more than one language are valued by native speakers, by teachers, and by others whose opinions matter to them. As such, we must not confuse linguistic proficiency or communicative ability with strict adherence to prescriptive norms. Our first priority must be to encourage students to use the language both inside and outside of the classroom.
Franco-American French has an undeserved reputation for being a kind of slang which is therefore unacceptable at school. In secondary and post-secondary schools in the Northeast, Franco-American students hear criticisms of typical North-American pronunciations such as [mwє] as opposed to the standard [mwa] in the word moi (‘me’). This is also the case for vocabulary such as the use of English borrowings (e.g. bines from ‘beans’) and archaic words like char or machine in lieu of automobile or voiture (‘car’). With respect to grammar, structures such as the use of avoir (rather than être) to form the past tense of certain intransitive verbs are simply labeled as incorrect.
Stelling (2006) demonstrates that there exists a cyclical relationship between schooling and Franco-American French which can be resumed as follows: While bilingual Catholic parochial schools once promoted mother tongue maintenance, they also encouraged the abandonment of French by unintentionally classifying it as impractical or less valuable than English, since each language was relegated to specific subjects. French was used for Canadian history, catechism, art, and music while English was used for courses which many viewed as more practical for entry into the workforce such as civics, mathematics and science. A shift from French to English then led to the end of bilingual schooling itself, which in turn led to increased exposure to hostile attitudes towards North American French in public schools. These negative views were imparted on Franco-American students themselves, which led to further abandonment of French.
In a healthy or stable cycle, schooling would encourage positive language attitudes that would in turn promote language maintenance and transmission. This would then justify more educational opportunities in the language, and so forth and so on.
What teachers can learn from the situations described above is that when dealing with native and heritage speakers of “nonstandard” varieties, linguistic prescription must not interfere with assigning a positive value to their mother tongue. Such students must feel that all varieties are valid not only because of the unique cultures which they represent, but also because they are practical and useful.
Additionally, educators must be devoted to developing healthy attitudes among all language learners. We must stress that knowledge of a second language is a practical asset in the modern world. We must also make students feel that, although they may not have perfected their skills as of yet, the way that they speak their developing second language is valued by those around them.
References
Brault, Gérard J. 1979. “Le français en Nouvelle-Angleterre.” In Albert Valdman (Ed.) Le Français hors de France. Paris: Champion. 75-92.
Fox, Cynthia A. 2007. “Franco-American Voices: French in the Northeastern United States Today.” The French Review. 80.6. 1278-1292.
Fox, Cynthia, Geneviève Fortin, Véronique Martin and Louis Stelling. 2007. “L’Identité franco-américaine: tendances actuelles dans le sud de la Nouvelle-Angleterre.” Canadian Review of American Studies. 37.1. 23-48.
Fox, Cynthia and Jane Smith. 2005. La situation du français franco-américain: aspects linguistiques et sociolinguistiques. In Albert Valdman, Julie Auger and Deborah Piston-Halton (Eds.) Le français en Amérique du Nord. Québec: Presses de l’Université Laval. 117-142.
Roby, Yves. 2000. Les Franco-Américains de la Nouvelle-Angleterre: Rêves et réalités. Sillery: Septentrion.
Stelling, Louis. 2006. “‘Non-Standard’ Variation and the Language Classroom: Some Lessons from Franco-American French.” Paper Presented at the LLCP conference. University at Albany, State University of New York
Notes
1. According to Brault (1979, 75) there are four principal elements which make Franco-Americans ethnically distinct from all other groups: French Canadian birth or ancestry; French as a mother tongue; Catholicism; and residence in New England. However, language shift and cultural assimilation have created a current situation which complicates this definition (see Fox 2007; Fox et al. 2007; Fox and Smith 2005; Roby 2000). In this article, the term Franco-American refers to French Canadian immigrants and their descendants living in the Northeastern United States.
2. Led by Cynthia Fox (University at Albany) and Jane Smith (University of Maine, Orono), A Sociolinguistic Investigation of Franco-American French was the first and only large scale investigation of French in New England. The study was funded by the National Science Foundation from 2001 to 2004. A sum total of 275 Franco-Americans were interviewed in the eight locations of Berlin, NH, Biddeford, Waterville, and Van Buren, ME, Bristol, CT, Woonsocket, RI, and Gardner and Southbridge, MA. Interviews were guided by use of a questionnaire to gather information on topics such as the acquisition, use and transmission of French, and access to francophone culture and media. A translation task (English to French) was also used to elicit structures which are infrequent in conversation. For more information, see Fox and Smith (2005).
Louis E. Stelling teaches Languages at MCLA
~~~
Socrates’ Body and Soul
Benjamin Hollows
In Phaedo, Plato’s Socrates claims that death is nothing but the separation of the soul (self, mind) from the body and this is what he has spent his life trying to achieve, being a philosopher, as “…the one aim of those who practice philosophy in the proper manner is to practice for dying and death” (1). Socrates asks why anyone would resent what one has spent one’s life trying to achieve. Why would Socrates, or anyone, want to separate the soul from the body, especially during one’s life in a body?
For the explanation of these questions, Socrates hints at teachings from the Greek mystery religions, from which Plato was likely an initiate, which assert that humans are in a “prison”, from which it takes much labor to liberate oneself. The physical body is the prison because it is trapping, limiting and contaminating the soul, the element within that, according to the mysteries, is closest to the divine. Bodily concerns such as the desire for pleasure and the aversion to pain are what hinder one from accessing the soul to grasp the truth. Therefore, one must not be vulnerable to confusing bodily desires, and use pure reason alone (turning inward toward the soul) to access the truth. One can only attain true knowledge through the soul, as it is the soul which has access to the Forms, having existed prior to the body, and traveled through the realm of Forms.
During one’s life, if one labors to disassociate and purify oneself from the body, one will receive true knowledge when one is liberated from the prison of the body. (2). If one has not spent one’s life purifying oneself through practicing virtue and uses the soul, instead, to serve the body and engages in constant intercourse with the body, the soul becomes polluted and impure, and will become a wandering, shadowy phantom until it is bound and imprisoned in another body, one step further away from truth and the divine (3). This concept is notably similar to Brahmanic philosophy, which may have an oblique connection to the Greek mysteries, in which the aim of life is to escape the samsaric cycle, and unite Atman with Brahman (pure consciousness with pure being).
Considering Socrates conceives the body in this sense as evil, and the cause for all suffering and the prohibition of happiness, one can understand why he argues for the separation of the soul from it. The soul is perceived to be the source of truth and happiness, and through virtue, is not only separated from the body, but from “confusion, ignorance, fear, violent desires, and other human ills” (4).
Socrates does not say to just practice philosophy, but to practice philosophy the “right way”. By this he seems to mean the cultivation of virtue in the pursuit of truth. In Meno, Socrates and Meno agree that virtue is that which one uses to attain the beneficial, and I suspect the Socrates of these dialogues would argue that there is nothing more beneficial to a human than separation of the soul from the body. They also agree that virtue is wisdom, as one must use the means to achieve something in the right way, so to be benefited, because if one uses it in the wrong way, one can be harmed. Therefore virtue is the wisdom to use a means rightfully so to be beneficial, and attain the good. The soul must be directed by virtue to achieve what is most beneficial, ultimately, the separation from the body (5).
Though Socrates says one must practice the separation of the soul from the body during life, is this realistic or actually beneficial? The soul, using the body as a vehicle, needs the body to purify itself. Without being ensnared in a body, it would have no need for purification, and perhaps the only reason for entering the body is for it to labor to achieve liberation and be in the company of the divine, whether that is dwelling in Hades, uniting with the godhead or contemplation of the Forms. The aim is to let the soul be the master, and to use the body in the right way so to benefit the soul and not harm it. The reason for separation is perhaps not to annihilate the body, which will inevitably occur upon death, but to develop the soul into the distinguished master, fit with the proper wisdom to rule the body during the body’s life.
Even if the soul is not eternal and dissipates upon death, Socrates argues in Phaedo that to cultivate it with virtue is still more beneficial than not doing so. Bodily desires lead to dependency on external objects for happiness, and the absence of the object leads to pain and suffering. Even if one obtains the object, it will eventually disappear, as all in the physical world is fleeting, and this will lead to sorrow and despair. Attachment to external objects can also cloud judgment and cause one to engage in actions one may not do if that one was to turn inward toward reason. The pursuit of external objects may also become a distraction from more beneficial pursuits such as knowledge and the cultivation of intellectual capacity and virtues such as discipline, competency and selflessness. It is possible that Plato assumed most humans were largely unaware of the benefits one achieves by turning away from the body toward the soul, and thought it necessary to talk of the soul as something with eternal benefits, for one to purify oneself with the cultivation of virtue.
Despite his stoic or ascetic claims in these dialogues, it is evident here and elsewhere that the historical Socrates comfortably partook in bodily pleasures with moderation; as portrayed by Plato, he was also likely aware of the benefits of letting the soul be the master, rather than the body. And even for Socrates, it would have taken much labor to cultivate his soul and keep his daimonion ever present.
Notes
1. Plato, Phaedo, trans. G.M.A Grube. (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2002), p.101-64a
2. Ibid p.104-67a
3. Plato, Phaedo, trans. G.M.A Grube. (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2002), p.120-81d
4. Ibid. p.119-81a
5. Plato, Meno, trans. G.M.A Grube. (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2002), p.80,81-87d-89a
Benjamin Hollows is a student at MCLA
~~~
The Way of Objectivity
Daniel Sadlocha
Immanuel Kant once posited that, due to the subjective nature of the mind, it is impossible to know anything in and of itself. Due to our one point perspective, that is, the perspective of one coming from a particular point of view, humans are incapable of experiencing anything as objective. I am purposing that this is untrue.
It is true that human experience is subjective in almost all aspects. We perceive colors, which are only fractions of what light itself truly is. We see the colors that are not absorbed by what we are looking at with our eyes, and our eyes interpret what they see as the reflection of what is not absorbed, we see this as color. We hear sounds, but, as sounds are wavelengths contained within pressure, temperature, space, etc., we can only hear a sound as an individual experience. These are experiences that we name as a dog barking, or a train going by and depend on our placement near the origin of the sound. We cannot hear the wavelength in full, because our eardrums are not equipped for such a task. They are a method of filtering the wavelength into a perceivable interpretation. The same thing could be said for touch, as we individually interpret electrical signals cascading through our nervous system, or through taste or smell, which sends similar electrical and chemical signals to our brain to identify sweet or bitter, pleasant or foul.
Within the bounds of our senses, I must agree, the absolute, the thing in-and-of itself cannot be objectively experienced. This is because as long as we identify with our senses, as long as we internalize them and perceive them and what they are experiencing, we create an individual experience, i.e. the smell of an apple, the feel of a chalkboard.
Sense, itself, however, is real. If one retracts from the sensual object itself and experiences smelling, rather than smelling an apple, one interacts with a very real experience. The same can be said for taste. There is a difference between eating a meal in haste to get to your next class, and closing your eyes, tuning out your ears, and opening yourself up to the full experience of what is in your mouth. It is the experience of the sense itself.
This experience of the fullness of one’s senses is the closest subjectivity can come to objectivity and still have the experience be able to be transmitted through words. One exclaims “I taste,” or “I see,” and even here we find that meaning is lacking. The subjective mind requires attachment in order to communicate the essence of experience, which is why the objective can never be written in words. Therefore, the listening wishes to hear “I taste a peach,” or “I see a bear.” Peeling the subjective away further, releasing the requirement for explanation, we can go beyond the sensual experience, thus stripping away the ‘taste’ or the ‘seeing’ and find ourselves left with the ‘I’. The encompassing “I am” that the mind postulates to itself in order to exist and continue existing. Even the “I” is not objective, because it, in its very essence, describes subjectivity. It is “I” and not “You.” Therefore, it is still subjective.
Thus, it is only in stripping away the “I”, in releasing that final point of subjectivity, that one can experience the objective, the thing-in-and-of-itself. This experience is indescribable because it lacks the grounding of the “I” and is not transmittable to the “You.” Therefore, I purpose that it is possible to experience the objective, but “I” or “You” cannot experience it. It can only be experienced, and in no way that can be communicated directly through words.
This idea creates a feeling of lack and it is thusly that philosophers continue the never-ending search for the communication and experience of this idea.
Daniel Sadlocha is a student at MCLA
~~~
A Cup of Coffee Refused at Peter’s Place
Derek Anderson
Every Saturday I walk into Peter’s Place, a small coffee shop with barely any customers after 6AM, and none on the weekends, whistling a brisk tune with my hands in my jeans and a sincere appreciation for fresh air, and every weekend I have the same conversation with Peter as he rubs the counters clean.
“Out,” he says quietly, neither angry nor impatient, just matter-of-fact. “I don’t serve your kind here.”
A classic line, one that’s never fazed me much. You see, about a year ago, after having come to Peter’s Place for a few months, I brought my boyfriend in for a cup of coffee. We were, in the manner that I am now accustomed to, asked quietly by Peter to leave. This kind of treatment was not particularly shocking to me, but personally, until that day, I was under the impression that I participated in a generation about to be released from homophobia. I suppose I was idealistic.
But since then, I’ve been curious. I walk into Peter’s Place each Saturday, wondering if he’ll change his mind, but he never does. So today, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“A question, before I go,” I say, with the same calmness he maintains, but with an added smile—I’m not in the mood to be emotionally disrupted today, though believe me, on some days I’d be screaming “Bigot!” at him.
“Fine,” he says, wiping the counter and looking up at me.
“Why won’t you serve me a coffee?” I ask.
“Irrelevant. It’s my choice, it’s my establishment, and I’m asking you to leave.”
“Okay. I’ll ignore for the purpose of this conversation that the Civil Rights Act exists, because that’s another discussion. I’ll even sidestep inquiry about your reasoning. Instead, I want to know why you feel it’s your right to refuse me.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he says, with dispassionate patience.
“I’d prefer to know why you think it is.”
“Well to me it seems perfectly obvious. I don’t believe the government, the town or anyone else has a right to tell me who I can and cannot serve coffee to. However just or unjust my reasons may be, I think it’s my right, in owning this place, to choose who I can turn away.”
“So inherent in our rights, then,” I say, “is the ability to choose unjustly.”
“Not unjust. Inherent in our rights is choosing freely between options. My option is whether or not to serve customers. No one has a stake in that decision but me.”
“It sounds fair,” I say. “But there’s something intuitively askew… Perhaps it’s the idea that freedom, here, seems to entail the right to do wrong.”
“I believe it does.”
“Let me try an experiment, then,” I say.
He’s rubbing a mug clean, and frowns at me.
“I’ll try to make it quick,” I say. “But perhaps a coffee while I wait?”
His frown persists. I was joking.
“Okay,” I say. “Imagine we are both free from the kind of government American society, or any other society, for that matter, entails. There are no laws—we are acting on moral reasoning alone.”
“We’d all kill each other.”
“Possibly, yes. Nice to know you’ve ample faith in humanity, though,” I smile. “But imagine a community. A small one, to simplify things. A small town, perhaps, governed by no larger authority.”
“Alright.”
“Okay, now I’m going to start heavy, so that we can examine extreme circumstances, and move our way backwards to something that resembles our predicament. Don’t think I’m trying to caricature your position.”
“Fine.”
“One day a murder is occurring in the town square. You happen to be walking by at the time—the assailant is about to stab the victim. What do you do?”
“Try and save the person, as long as I can avoid getting murdered.”
“A fine answer,” I say. “I think I’d choose the same. In that situation, why would you act as you chose?”
“It’s my obligation. No one should be murdered.”
“We have a right to be alive.”
“Precisely.”
“A right that overrules our right to choose whether or not to murder.”
“I know what you’re doing here. You can’t foist a poor comparison on me. These situations are not the same.”
“I am well aware. I told you, we’re starting big.”
He doesn’t say anything, just pulls more mugs from beneath the counter and cleans them. But he listens.
“Now, imagine another set of situations—in the first, a person is being physically assaulted, in the second, a person is being verbally harassed, and in both cases, the person is not well-liked among the town, for reasons of a personal matter, not one of negative action committed by the person.”
“No one deserves to be assaulted.”
“Do you step in?”
“I’m not certain it’s my responsibility. People need to settle things on their own.”
“Even through violence?”
“Are you expecting me to break up every fight in town?”
“No. But you think they’re wrong, right?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So are you going to break up every fight you see, on the grounds that no one should be physically assaulted?”
“I should,” I say. “But I don’t know if I would. I don’t know if I have the courage for that.” There’s no point in lying here. “I don’t know if I could walk up to everyone and tell them not to fight. I don’t even know what I’d say if both parties were of the opinion that they wanted to be engaged in that fight.”
“Exactly. Keep your nose out.”
“So do we give everyone the right to hurt each other?”
“If the other guy doesn’t care, what right is it of yours?”
“Okay,” I say. “A fair point. But I’m paying attention to that line. Let’s move on to the other scenario.”
“The verbal assault? No. Free speech is the greatest thing about this country.”
“Agreed. But let’s say the stuff being said relates directly to this person’s standing in the town—like I said, they’ve done nothing wrong to any of their aggressors, and yet still face verbal abuse throughout the day, on the grounds of prejudice. What do you do?”
“Nothing. What are you suggesting, Mr. P.C., that we go around censoring ourselves?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re not convincing me. We have a right to say whatever we want, to whomever we want, whenever we want. You want to take that away?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“Then my answer is no. That right should not be taken away.”
“And in the situation we discussed?”
“Look, if you want me to defend people like that, I’m not going to. Sure, I’ll defend with every fiber in me that they have the right to yell whatever they want at whoever they want, but I’m not going to sink into the portrait you’re painting right now and say that I support their mindset. Everyone should keep to themselves. No one needs that kind of judgment.”
“Particularly not for being the way they are, having done nothing wrong.”
He stares at me and stops cleaning the mug for a second. I entertain a moment of hope, but quickly realize I’m too eager.
“No one deserves to be shut up,” he says. “Never leads to anything good.”
“Okay,” I say. “So I’m going to make an assumption here, that of the three situations we discussed—firstly murder, then physical harm, then free speech, you’d rank our situation in the third category.”
“Absolutely.”
“In the third example, the term “free speech” is named for a peculiar reason, right? What it actually entails, and what you yourself pointed out, is that we are free to choose poorly, such as in the example of the person being harassed.”
“Yes. We shouldn’t be censored according to people’s dispositions or idiosyncrasies. A man’s got freedom only if he can make a choice.”
“But in the first case, you didn’t feel it was the murderer’s right to take a life.”
“Of course. I don’t think anyone disagrees with that.”
“Least of all me. And in the second case, you didn’t feel like it was the right of the abuser to abuse if the other person didn’t want to be abused.”
“Correct. We all deserve protection.”
“You see, here,” I say, hoping I’ve explained myself. “is where the correlation between these examples and our dilemma gets muddy for me. Because I want to know what falls between the area of person who doesn’t want to be abused and free speech. I want to know the moral difference that allots two different reactions to these situations.”
He thinks about it for awhile, more patient than I might have been in his shoes.
“I suppose it’s whether or not someone’s being hurt, or merely shortchanged.”
“You mean just physical hurt?”
“Not necessarily. But there’s a line.”
“Certainly.”
“Stretch the line too far and no one can do anything. I don’t want to live in a society where I can’t open my mouth or move for fear of offending someone. It’s my right to be happy.”
“I can’t agree more. What we’re miring is: at what point do we retract what freedoms we have out of respect for others? Is it just with physical harm?”
“I’m not sure,” he says. “Explain.”
“Well that’s the basis of morality, right? Retracting our freedom of choice when it harms others. Here we’re talking about your right not to give me a cup of coffee. Which is not like refusing me bread when I am starving, nor is it yelling out slurs while you serve me the coffee. It’s deciding not to serve me based on a genetic disposition I am not in control of. I hope we needn’t debate that one.”
“No. I’m not serving you for that reason.”
“Good. Well, not good, but now I can continue. What I’m saying is that you have chosen, based on factors irrelative to any wrongs I may have committed you, not to serve me coffee, and feel it your moral right to do so.”
“I am unchanged. Yes. You don’t need coffee. If you were starving I’d give you food so you wouldn’t die, but since you seem just fine, I have the right to ignore you.”
“And a fine job you’re doing at it,” I smirk, hoping not to push my luck. “I’m interested now, though—so it’s my right not to starve. Is it society’s right to shun me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the society we’re considering, save one grocery store, refuses to serve me. Even at their quietest, I am shunned. I don’t have the same rights as everyone else—to go where I please, be served at stores, or participate in society.”
“You’re getting murky now.”
“I have to,” I say. “I think our situation is morally murky. When you move away from easy things like death, everything gets that way.”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s right for you to be shunned like that,” he says. “After all, a society’s supposed to offer the same benefits to everyone. Not that I support anything like affirmative action,” he says. “Fairness includes not paying attention to a minority, for good or bad.”
“I feel as if it’s ironic for you to say that.”
“Not really.”
“Well, you mentioned fairness. That everyone should get similar opportunities.”
“To an extent. Fair to exactly the place you keep mentioning—until it steps on other people’s toes.”
“So whose toes are getting stepped on in our situation?”
“Yours,” he says, unabashedly. “But the same as the person getting hollered at. In defense of a liberty.”
“I’m confused. You didn’t agree with my being shunned.”
He quiets. Though I can hear his gears turning, I’m not satisfied with my own argument, but I’m not sure if I can be.
“What’s freedom?” I ask. “Is it just the right to choose wrong?”
“There’s not just right and wrong,” he says. “Freedom is having choices.”
“But morality’s weird, right? It limits those choices.”
“I don’t know if that’s weird.”
“Maybe it’s just me. But when I hear freedom, I think of the right to do what I want. When I’m fully free, I can do anything I want—even kill someone. But somehow that doesn’t feel like real freedom, right? Am I off?”
“Maybe.”
“It feels like that’s how freedom gets defined. Often. Like when it’s completely unharnessed, you are unhindered by law and ethics. Then, when we mention the extent of what we’re then able to do, it doesn’t feel like that’s included in freedom, because of morality.”
“I guess it can feel that way. Doesn’t have to.”
“Even if it’s just me. It feels like freedom, the right to choose, goes hand in hand with morality—and if we’re patrons of morality, there are a bunch of things we shouldn’t choose.”
“The ability to choose them makes us free.”
“Does it?”
He cleans his mug. I’m not sure either, so I keep talking.
“See, the reasons I’ve run through all these things is that morality is not about freedom. When employed, it debilitates freedom. When phrased in that manner, everyone complains about being restricted. Why are we so obsessed with the ability to choose?”
“Otherwise we wouldn’t be free at all. Morality would have no bearing.”
“An excellent point,” I say, growing quiet, introspective. “Moral reasoning, then, depends on having a wrong choice that we do not choose. And there are not always merely right or wrong choices, as easy as not murdering someone or not taking away free speech.”
“You haven’t convinced me it’s not my right not to serve you coffee,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “But here’s what I’m driving at. Sure, it’s your right to refuse me coffee. I’m not going to die without it, I’m not even going to be harmed without it. In fact, since society’s a lot better these days for some groups, even though it persists and may persist forever in shunning others, I know I can just get a coffee somewhere else.”
“Exactly.”
“But even though it’s not your absolute moral duty to treat me the same as your other customers—is it freedom that gives you the right not to serve me, or freedom that gives you an excuse not to do so?”
He puts down the mug and looks at me for only a few seconds.
“What’s the difference?”
I smile. “I don’t know if there is one.”
I really don’t. I’m not being rhetorical—it doesn’t even feel like a good epiphany at the time.
I say, “I guess all I’ve left to say is this—people have spent a very long time without acceptance, without open minds, and without compassion because they had the right to do so.”
“Is that wrong?”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “How else can you learn, right? And maybe it’s just my position, being momentarily disenfranchised on those grounds,” I say, getting up and taking a dollar and a dime, the cost of a coffee from my pocket, and placing it on the table. “But if it were me, I’d lean toward compassion and spend a little less time worrying whether or not it’s my right not to do so.”
“I didn’t give you a coffee,” he says, pushing the money back at me.
“That’s for yours,” I say, and leave Peter’s Place satisfied.
Derek Anderson is a student at MCLA
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