We live in an age of apparent forgiveness. In this age all sorts of organisations such as governments, corporations, universities and even churches as a matter of course ask for forgiveness. I believe it would be more accurate to talk about these diverse organisations apologising. Forgiveness involves the sentiments and these belong to the domain of persons rather than organisations, see (Griswold, Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007 chapter 4). On 17/11/09 the Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd issued an apology to the 7,000 former child migrants who were taken from Britain and put into state-run homes in Australia where they suffered abuse. It appears that the British government is also to apologise for this matter. I believe some political apologies such as the above are meaningful. Nonetheless it seems clear to me that a great many apparent political apologies are meaningless because genuine apology is not easy. In this posting I want to investigate the domain in which political apology is meaningful.
Griswold argues if an organisation is to issue a meaningful apology that this apology must satisfy four conditions (Griswold, page 150). An organisation must,
Admit responsibility for the action
Admit the deed was wrong.
Say sorry.
Must commit to becoming a better organisation.
These four conditions are the same as the first four conditions Griswold believes are necessary for someone to make a personal apology. Kevin Rudd’s apology on behalf of the Australian Government completely satisfies all these conditions. I agree with Griswold that any meaningful political apology must satisfy these conditions. However in my investigation of the domain of meaningful political apology I want to concentrate on the first of these conditions, admitting responsibility. I will argue if a political apology is to be meaningful that any acceptance of responsibility for the wrong must also be meaningful and that this involves accepting guilt.
When is taking responsibility meaningful? Intuitively saying sorry seems to be an essential element of any apology for no apology would be complete without actually saying sorry. Merely expressing regret is insufficient for genuine apology. At this point it might be useful to differentiate between the different uses of the word “sorry” in expressing apology and regret. When I apologise, I am sorry and the “I” cannot be separated from the sorry if the apology is to be meaningful. When I regret something, I feel sorry for someone and the “I” may be replaced by another person without the regret becoming meaningless. In my previous posting I argued if someone is genuinely sorry then this involves moving from excusing himself to accepting guilt. Guilt differentiates between meaningful apology and regret because guilt ties a particular person to an apology. It follows if meaningful apology involves accepting guilt then any apparent apology which does not involve accepting guilt is not a meaningful apology. Let it be accepted that accepting meaningful responsibility when apologising involves accepting guilt. I believe the above remarks also apply to political organisations. It follows the first way many apparent political apologies are meaningless is because the organisation apologising does not genuinely accept guilt.
One of the principle goals of political apology is the restoration of moral relations with the injured party. This goal is an attractive one to many organisations. Some organisations attempt to apologise without any acceptance of guilt. It might be assumed such an apparently imperfect apology is nonetheless to be welcomed as it encourages some improvement in moral relations. I will now argue any justification for this assumption is weak. I have argued guilt differentiates between meaningful apology and regret. If my argument is accepted then it might be argued that any organisation giving an apparent apology without accepting guilt is actually expressing regret. It might be thought whilst a genuine apology is always preferable to an expression of regret that nonetheless even if an organisation feels it cannot genuinely apologise that any expression of regret is to be welcomed. I have suggested that when I regret something I feel sorry for someone. It seems to me the concept of regret makes sense when considering persons but not organisations. If I feel sorry for someone it would seem I share his feelings and must feel some empathy for him. However organisations are not people and as a result do not feel emotions. It is of course true that the members of an organisation may indeed feel strongly about some of the policies of that organisation but nonetheless I still contend organisations have no feelings. It follows organisations cannot feel empathy and hence express genuine regret. It further follows that any political apology without an acceptance of guilt is neither meaningful nor useful in the restoration of normal moral relationships.
It might be objected to the above that in some contexts in which wrongs occur that, whilst an organisation was responsible for some wrong, the context at the time of the wrong means even if apology is due the acceptance of guilt is inappropriate. It seems to me such an objection is based on a failure to differentiate between factors that excuse an action and factors that mitigate. Excuse means that whilst an action may cause harm no apology is necessary. Excuse means an agent has no reason to feel guilt. Consider for instance the case of Brian Thomas who strangled his wife during a nightmare when he dreamt that intruders had broken into their camper van. When Thomas strangled his wife he was in a state known as automatism. The judge when acquitting him said that he had been a “decent man and a devoted husband” and bore no responsibility for his actions. Thomas had no need to feel guilt because automatism excused him (http://www.independent.ie/world-news/europe/man-who-strangled-wife-in-sleep-walks-free-1950088.html) Mitigation of necessity involves guilt because mitigating circumstances don’t excuse but determine the degree of guilt. Consider the case of Doreen Marshall who crushed sleeping pills into her 90-year-old mother's food and drink in desperation at the quality of her mother’s life. Marshall was guilty of a wrong but the facts that her mother was deaf, blind and bedridden mitigated her guilt nevertheless these factors did not excuse her (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/this-britain/woman-walks-free-after-mercy-killing-case-671210.html). I am sure the persons involved in both of the above examples suffered great emotional trauma but morally Thomas did no wrong whilst Marshall did, even though her mother’s circumstances mitigated her wrongdoing. Morally it is important to differentiate between excuse and mitigation. The examples of excuse and mitigation I have used above apply to personal moral relations. I am going to assume here that the meaning of excuse and mitigation in the domain of political moral relationships is much the same as that used in personal moral relationships. If this is not so political apology and personal apology would only be very loosely related. This is not so as shown by political apology sharing most of the conditions needed for meaningful apology, see above. It follows there can be mitigating circumstances attached to political apology. However even if there are mitigating circumstances attached to some political apology then some guilt must be accepted if any apology offered is to be meaningful.
However apology is neither easy nor simple. In order to illustrate this I will now examine the provisional IRA’s attempt to apologise on 16/07/02 for its killing of non-combatants, see (http://www.sinnfein.ie/contents/15235). Cleary the IRA attempts to say sorry, “We offer our sincere apologies and condolences to their families”. It also admits to the harm it has caused, “We also acknowledge the grief and pain of their relatives”. Moreover the IRA seems to be genuinely committed to the restoration of normal relations with all the people of Northern Ireland; “We remain totally committed to the peace process and to dealing with the challenges and difficulties which this presents”. The IRA’s genuine commitment to the peace process and the restoration of normal moral relations is praiseworthy. However the IRA has not accepted guilt for its actions. It admits to failures, “The future will not be found in denying collective failures and mistakes or closing minds and hearts to the plight of those who have been hurt” but admitting to failures is not the same as an acceptance of guilt. I have argued above that a meaningful apology requires that the apologiser must accept some degree of guilt. It might also be pointed out that the restoration of normal moral relations in Northern Ireland might well have been easier and quicker had the IRA accepted some degree of guilt. Accepting guilt means one acknowledges that one is responsible for some wrong. The IRA’s statement only accepts that the IRA did some wrongs and that these wrongs were mistakes or collective failures, it does not accept full responsibility for the wrongs. The IRA’s position seems to hold that even if it was responsible for some wrong, the context at the time of the wrong, means that even if apology is due that nevertheless the acceptance of guilt is inappropriate. I have argued above such a position is based on failure to differentiate between excuse and mitigation. Of course there are factors that mitigate the IRA’s actions, such as the B specials and loyalist killings, but mitigating factors only lessen the degree of guilt they do not excuse it. It appears that the IRA did not offer a meaningful apology for its killing of non-combatants and that this failure still helps delay the restoration of normal moral relations in Northern Ireland today.
However politics is a messy business and perhaps for some internal reasons the IRA could not apologise. It might be argued had the IRA offered a more meaningful apology it would have alienated some of its own members. It is possible such alienated members might then have supported other republican dissident groups further delaying the restoration of normal moral relations. In this scenario it might be argued the IRA could not sensibly offer a meaningful apology and the “apology” it did offer was useful. Even accepting the above I still believe the IRA did not offer a meaningful apology for its killing of non-combatants. Nor do I believe it offered its regrets for as I have argued above I don’t believe organisations can genuinely offer regrets. However I do accept the IRA’s “apology” as a statement of intent which is to be welcomed and perhaps this is all that can be expected at this time, as I remarked above political apology is not easy.
Both people and organisations find it hard to accept guilt and find it much easier to excuse themselves. To accept guilt means lowering one’s opinion of oneself or the organisation involved. I am only prepared to accept guilt for my voluntary actions and I am certainly not prepared to accept guilt for someone else’s actions. The “I” accepting guilt must be the same “I” as the one who accepts responsibility if any subsequent apology is to be meaningful. This is relatively unproblematic as far as people are concerned. Let it be accepted any organisation should only accept guilt for some wrong if it is substantially the same organisation that was responsible for the wrong. It follows the second way many apparent political apologies are meaningless is due to the organisation apologising not being substantially the same organisation as the one which was responsible for the wrong. It appears to me that there are two main reasons why an organisation might substantially differ from its predecessor. Firstly there has been some dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within the organisation involved and secondly the passage of time means the organisation has significantly changed its character.
I will now argue if there has been some dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within an organisation between the wrong occurring and the apology being issued that any apology is meaningless. What I am arguing is that in these circumstances even if the name of some organisation remains the same as its predecessor there are in fact two different organisations involved. In order to give my argument some context I want specifically to argue that any post war German Government does not owe the victims of the holocaust an apology. Let it be accepted all post war German governments differ radically from their Nazi predecessor by specifically repudiating Nazi ideology. Intuitively it seems clear that because of the discontinuity of ideals any apology offered by post war German governments on behalf of its Nazi predecessor is meaningless. Any post war German government and its Nazi predecessor are not the same organisation. It might be argued by analogy that it is no more meaningful for any post war German government to apologise for its Nazi predecessor than for someone to apologise for a wrong committed by someone else. It seems to me this analogy is appropriate; it follows apology is not due by any post war German Government for the holocaust. It further follows if there is dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within any organisation that any apology this organisation issues for events prior to this discontinuity is meaningless.
Someone might object to the above by arguing that any apology issued by a post war German was not on behalf of its Nazi predecessor but rather on behalf of the German nation. I suggested above apology is due only from the organisation responsible for the harm. What then does the objector mean by the German nation? If the German nation means the German government then for the reasons given above any apology remains meaningless. If the German Nation means the German people then it seems to me the German people are not a political organisation. It follows the German people cannot issue a political apology. Moreover it is far from clear that even a majority of the German people bear any responsibility for the Holocaust. None of the above denies the terrible suffering of the Holocaust or that post war German governments should not pay reparations to the survivors. After all if I benefit from some wrong which I did not know about, or did not cause, I am nevertheless morally required to return the benefit.
I now want to consider a second way in which an organisation might substantially differ from its predecessor. Intuitively if a sufficiently long time passes then the nature an organisation can significantly change over that period of time. For instance it seems clearly ridiculous to hold the Roman Catholic Church responsible for its part in the crusades. Is it possible to account for this intuition? It seems clear that the policies of most organisations change over a reasonable period of time. However it might be pointed out that for many organisations the groups it represents and the goals it seeks to attain do not change significantly over time. It might then be argued that the groups an organisation represents and the goals it seeks give the organisation its identity. It might then be further argued if these do not change over time then the organisation does not significantly differ over time. Accepting the above argument would mean a change in an organisation’s policies however radical does not change the identity of the organisation. I believe such a conclusion is mistaken and will now argue a significant change in policies of any organisation signifies a significant change in its identity. Let it be accepted that the policies of any organisation do not exist in a vacuum but exist to further the organisation’s goals. Sometimes these policies change due to a change in non moral circumstances. I accept such changes do not change the identity of an organisation. However sometimes policies change for moral reasons. A change in policy due to moral considerations either firstly changes an organisation’s goals or secondly changes the values it believes it should adhere to when seeking to achieve these goals. Any organisation even if it has no explicit values has implicit values and these values are demonstrated by its policies and the way it acts. I would argue that these implicit values, at the very least, help to form the identity of an organisation. Indeed it might be argued these implicit values better define an organisation’s identity than its stated goals as many of these may be mere empty rhetoric. It follows the change over time in an organisation’s policies gradually change the organisation’s identity. It further follows if an organisation’s identity changes, over a significant period of time, then any apology it makes for an event long ago is meaningless.
The trouble with accepting the above is I have used the phrase “significantly differs over time”. There seems no clear cut method of deciding if an organisation differs significantly over time from its predecessor and that any such evaluation must be a matter of judgement. It follows from the above whether political apology is meaningful is also a matter of judgement. Griswold uses the University of Alabama’s apology for slavery as an example of acceptable political apology (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007, pages 147, 152). I have used the word acceptable above rather than good as political apology like politics is a messy business. Griswold argues the University’s apology is an acceptable apology as it meets the four conditions he considers necessary for a meaningful political apology. I accept Griswold’s four conditions and that the University has met these conditions. However I have argued above in order for a political apology to be meaningful any organisation should only apologise for some wrong provided it is substantially the same organisation that was responsible for the wrong. I further argued that as the policies of an organisation change over time so does the identity of the organisation. My position over the identity of organisations is roughly analogous to Derek Parfit’s position concerning personal identity, see (Reasons and persons, Oxford University Press, 1984, pages 206, 209). Parfit uses psychological continuity as a criterion of personal identity and I have suggested that the continuity of policies might be used as a criterion of an organisation’s identity. I have suggested an organisation will not be identical with its predecessor if the policies differ significantly. I would argue that the time between the abolition of slavery and the University of Alabama’s apology means the University’s policies have significantly changed further meaning the identity of the University has significantly changed. I would argue this significant change in the identity of the University means that its apology for slavery is not meaningful even if the motives underlying the apparent apology are praiseworthy.
This blog is concerned with most topics in applied philosophy. In particular it is concerned with autonomy, love and other emotions. comments are most welcome
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Forgiveness and Narrative
If someone asks for forgiveness Griswold argues she must take responsibility for her harmful actions (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007). He further argues she must also be able to offer some kind of narrative both as to why she acted as she did and as to why she now seeks forgiveness. A narrative must combine two elements; firstly it must contain an accurate account of the events concerned and secondly a personal account of why they happened. In this posting I want to investigate the second element of a narrative. In what follows when I refer to the nature of a narrative I am referring to this second element. Let it be accepted that any act needing forgiveness and any accompanying decision to seek forgiveness are intentional acts. Clearly someone need not seek forgiveness for some harm caused by her when she was suffering from a convulsion. She may of course express regret for her actions but she has nothing to apologise for or seek forgiveness. Prima facie it then might be assumed the nature of a narrative of someone seeking forgiveness should concern intention.
However a moment’s reflection casts some doubt on the above assumption. I will now argue some unintentional harmful acts are inexcusable meaning the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be solely concerned with an agent’s intentions. For example some brutal acts may be the unthinking product of someone’s intentional actions aimed at achieving some other end. In this context an unintentional brutal act may cause harm which requires forgiveness. Of course I do not deny brutality may be intentional especially if it is part of some deliberate policy. Let it be accepted brutal acts require forgiveness. It now follows that because some brutal acts are unintentional some unintentional acts require forgiveness. The nature of a narrative offered by someone wishing to be forgiven requires she should offer an explanation as to why she acted as she did. If I am correct in believing that some unintentional acts require forgiveness then the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be one based solely on intention. For this reason I suggest the nature of a narrative must be based on the character of the agent seeking forgiveness rather than her intentions. Such a narrative must contain three elements. Firstly it must make clear the agent’s character when she caused the harm, secondly her present character as she seeks forgiveness and lastly some explanation as to why her character has changed.
It might be argued the above only holds in certain contexts and that in other contexts the agent’s intentions offer a basis for a far simpler whilst at the same time a completely adequate account of the nature of a forgiveness narrative. It might then be argued the nature of any narrative offered should not be simply based on the agent seeking forgiveness’s character but rather should be a hybrid concept based mostly on intention and only on character when this is necessary. I will now argue that character alone should form the basis of any forgiveness narrative. I will argue that if we accept the conditions Griswold believes are necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness then a narrative based on character rather than intention seems to be required.
Our intentions don’t leap ready formed into our minds. Out intentions are partly formed by the situations we face. Natural selection would soon eliminate members of any species that did not react appropriately to a specific situation. Experimental philosophy seems to suggest that situation is all important and that our character plays little part in our decisions and hence should play little part in any forgiveness narrative, see for instance Appiah (Experiments in Ethics, Harvard University Press, 2008, chapter 2). A constant theme of this Blog is “caring about” or love. Let it be accepted here without any argument that someone’s ideals are something she “cares about” or loves. Frankfurt argues,
“For a person without ideals, there are no volitional laws he has bound himself to respect and to which he unconditionally submits. He has no inviolable boundaries. Thus he is amorphous with no fixed shape or identity.” (Necessity Volition and Love, Cambridge University Press, 1999, page 114)
Such a person, if such a person can possibly exist, is not a candidate for forgiveness. Griswold sets out several conditions an offender must meet for paradigmatic forgiveness. Let us consider an example. Let us assume Sue wants to be forgiven for some offence she has caused. The first condition Griswold thinks Sue must meet is that she must admit she was responsible for the action. Let it be further assumed Sue has no ideals and is amorphous without fixed shape or identity. It follows Sue may well admit she was responsible for the offence one moment but deny it the next. Intuitively Sue does not genuinely meet Griswold’s first condition needed for forgiveness. She might of course be excused blame due to her lack of identity. The above suggests Griswold’s first condition might be slightly reframed so that an offender must consistently admit she was responsible for her action. Consistency in actions requires ideals to act on. It follows someone seeking forgiveness must have ideals. Ideals form character. Nothing I have said about character means the situations we find ourselves in don’t help determine our actions, indeed they do and this fact is important in reminding us of our common humanity. It does however mean that these situations don’t completely determine our actions. Indeed if this was not so we would all act identically in identical situations and this is clearly not the case. I have shown if someone can be forgiven she must have some character however I have yet to show her forgiveness narrative must concern her character.
The fourth condition Griswold believes is necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must be committed to becoming a better person. Someone might try to become a better person by simply avoiding situations similar to that which caused the original offence. Such a tactic may be praiseworthy but a commitment to avoid certain situations seems more like an effort to behave better rather than a genuine commitment to become a better person. Indeed if one accepts the claims of some experimental philosophy, situationist ethics, this might be the only option an agent really has. I however argued above people do indeed have character based on their ideals and I would argue any attempt to become a genuinely better person involves one’s character. It follows the narrative offered as part of forgiveness should refer to character. I believe such a narrative should take the following form. In the past I only cared about X but not Y, I have now changed and I care less about X and now care about Y. Such a narrative contains the three elements I suggested were necessary for any forgiveness narrative based on character. It might be objected someone may believe that she cares about Y but when it she acts she finds she cannot do what caring about Y requires. I accept this may well be true but it is not an argument for replacing character by intention at the heart of a forgiveness narrative. Someone may also fully intend to do y but find she cannot carry out her intention in practice. For these reasons it seems to me any forgiveness narrative should be a character narrative. This character narrative should contain three elements, the agent’s past character, her present character and why her character has changed.
I have argued that paradigmatic forgiveness requires a narrative based on the offender’s character. Does imperfect forgiveness also require such a narrative? Griswold argues if an offender is to be imperfectly forgiven she must at the very least be willing to take some minimal steps to seek forgiveness, this willingness may be in some circumstances be imaginatively reconstructed by the victim (page 115). The question then becomes this. Do the minimal steps any offender must take if she is to be forgiven include a forgiveness narrative based on her character? In my previous posting I argued one of the minimal steps any offender must take for imperfect forgiveness is that she must say sorry. Saying sorry may be imaginatively reconstructed. I further argued if saying sorry is genuine and not simply a case of rhetoric that saying sorry involves a move from excuse to guilt. I still further argued this move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures herself. Any fundamental change in the way someone pictures herself involves a change in character. Moreover this change in character can be explained by a narrative. Someone might object even if my argument is accepted it does not automatically follow that such a narrative must play a part in imperfect forgiveness. I disagree; let it be assumed an offender can take the minimal steps needed to seek forgiveness without even the possibility of an imaginatively reconstructed narrative. Let it be further assumed the offender says sorry and behaves in a more moral manner. My objector would seem to be committed to the view that the offender has taken the minimal steps required for imperfect forgiveness. However it seems to be entirely possible that in the above situation the offender has only taken these steps in order to protect her self interests. If this is so I see no reason to forgive the offender. It seems clear to me if someone is to be forgiven it must be possible to give, or at the very least imaginatively reconstruct, a narrative to explain the offender’s change in character. It follows all personal forgiveness, including imperfect forgiveness, requires some sort of character narrative.
However a moment’s reflection casts some doubt on the above assumption. I will now argue some unintentional harmful acts are inexcusable meaning the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be solely concerned with an agent’s intentions. For example some brutal acts may be the unthinking product of someone’s intentional actions aimed at achieving some other end. In this context an unintentional brutal act may cause harm which requires forgiveness. Of course I do not deny brutality may be intentional especially if it is part of some deliberate policy. Let it be accepted brutal acts require forgiveness. It now follows that because some brutal acts are unintentional some unintentional acts require forgiveness. The nature of a narrative offered by someone wishing to be forgiven requires she should offer an explanation as to why she acted as she did. If I am correct in believing that some unintentional acts require forgiveness then the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be one based solely on intention. For this reason I suggest the nature of a narrative must be based on the character of the agent seeking forgiveness rather than her intentions. Such a narrative must contain three elements. Firstly it must make clear the agent’s character when she caused the harm, secondly her present character as she seeks forgiveness and lastly some explanation as to why her character has changed.
It might be argued the above only holds in certain contexts and that in other contexts the agent’s intentions offer a basis for a far simpler whilst at the same time a completely adequate account of the nature of a forgiveness narrative. It might then be argued the nature of any narrative offered should not be simply based on the agent seeking forgiveness’s character but rather should be a hybrid concept based mostly on intention and only on character when this is necessary. I will now argue that character alone should form the basis of any forgiveness narrative. I will argue that if we accept the conditions Griswold believes are necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness then a narrative based on character rather than intention seems to be required.
Our intentions don’t leap ready formed into our minds. Out intentions are partly formed by the situations we face. Natural selection would soon eliminate members of any species that did not react appropriately to a specific situation. Experimental philosophy seems to suggest that situation is all important and that our character plays little part in our decisions and hence should play little part in any forgiveness narrative, see for instance Appiah (Experiments in Ethics, Harvard University Press, 2008, chapter 2). A constant theme of this Blog is “caring about” or love. Let it be accepted here without any argument that someone’s ideals are something she “cares about” or loves. Frankfurt argues,
“For a person without ideals, there are no volitional laws he has bound himself to respect and to which he unconditionally submits. He has no inviolable boundaries. Thus he is amorphous with no fixed shape or identity.” (Necessity Volition and Love, Cambridge University Press, 1999, page 114)
Such a person, if such a person can possibly exist, is not a candidate for forgiveness. Griswold sets out several conditions an offender must meet for paradigmatic forgiveness. Let us consider an example. Let us assume Sue wants to be forgiven for some offence she has caused. The first condition Griswold thinks Sue must meet is that she must admit she was responsible for the action. Let it be further assumed Sue has no ideals and is amorphous without fixed shape or identity. It follows Sue may well admit she was responsible for the offence one moment but deny it the next. Intuitively Sue does not genuinely meet Griswold’s first condition needed for forgiveness. She might of course be excused blame due to her lack of identity. The above suggests Griswold’s first condition might be slightly reframed so that an offender must consistently admit she was responsible for her action. Consistency in actions requires ideals to act on. It follows someone seeking forgiveness must have ideals. Ideals form character. Nothing I have said about character means the situations we find ourselves in don’t help determine our actions, indeed they do and this fact is important in reminding us of our common humanity. It does however mean that these situations don’t completely determine our actions. Indeed if this was not so we would all act identically in identical situations and this is clearly not the case. I have shown if someone can be forgiven she must have some character however I have yet to show her forgiveness narrative must concern her character.
The fourth condition Griswold believes is necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must be committed to becoming a better person. Someone might try to become a better person by simply avoiding situations similar to that which caused the original offence. Such a tactic may be praiseworthy but a commitment to avoid certain situations seems more like an effort to behave better rather than a genuine commitment to become a better person. Indeed if one accepts the claims of some experimental philosophy, situationist ethics, this might be the only option an agent really has. I however argued above people do indeed have character based on their ideals and I would argue any attempt to become a genuinely better person involves one’s character. It follows the narrative offered as part of forgiveness should refer to character. I believe such a narrative should take the following form. In the past I only cared about X but not Y, I have now changed and I care less about X and now care about Y. Such a narrative contains the three elements I suggested were necessary for any forgiveness narrative based on character. It might be objected someone may believe that she cares about Y but when it she acts she finds she cannot do what caring about Y requires. I accept this may well be true but it is not an argument for replacing character by intention at the heart of a forgiveness narrative. Someone may also fully intend to do y but find she cannot carry out her intention in practice. For these reasons it seems to me any forgiveness narrative should be a character narrative. This character narrative should contain three elements, the agent’s past character, her present character and why her character has changed.
I have argued that paradigmatic forgiveness requires a narrative based on the offender’s character. Does imperfect forgiveness also require such a narrative? Griswold argues if an offender is to be imperfectly forgiven she must at the very least be willing to take some minimal steps to seek forgiveness, this willingness may be in some circumstances be imaginatively reconstructed by the victim (page 115). The question then becomes this. Do the minimal steps any offender must take if she is to be forgiven include a forgiveness narrative based on her character? In my previous posting I argued one of the minimal steps any offender must take for imperfect forgiveness is that she must say sorry. Saying sorry may be imaginatively reconstructed. I further argued if saying sorry is genuine and not simply a case of rhetoric that saying sorry involves a move from excuse to guilt. I still further argued this move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures herself. Any fundamental change in the way someone pictures herself involves a change in character. Moreover this change in character can be explained by a narrative. Someone might object even if my argument is accepted it does not automatically follow that such a narrative must play a part in imperfect forgiveness. I disagree; let it be assumed an offender can take the minimal steps needed to seek forgiveness without even the possibility of an imaginatively reconstructed narrative. Let it be further assumed the offender says sorry and behaves in a more moral manner. My objector would seem to be committed to the view that the offender has taken the minimal steps required for imperfect forgiveness. However it seems to be entirely possible that in the above situation the offender has only taken these steps in order to protect her self interests. If this is so I see no reason to forgive the offender. It seems clear to me if someone is to be forgiven it must be possible to give, or at the very least imaginatively reconstruct, a narrative to explain the offender’s change in character. It follows all personal forgiveness, including imperfect forgiveness, requires some sort of character narrative.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Forgiving Polanski
Recently Roman Polanski was arrested in Switzerland on a warrant from the USA for a rape committed in 1978. In this posting I want to use this case to examine some ideas connected to forgiveness. Before doing so I want to make clear that there is a clear separation between justice and forgiveness. If this was not so it would seem possible for someone to criminally assault me, causing me great harm, to escape justice provided I forgave him. Justice cannot be a private matter. The victim of Polanski, Samantha Geimer, says she has forgiven him but this does not mean he should not face justice. I agree with Grayling who argues we should prosecute Polanski because “We prosecute and punish in order to maintain our determination not to countenance such crimes” (see http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article6852996.ece). The fact we cannot countenance some crimes does not mean we cannot forgive the offender. The central question I want to examine in this posting is whether Polanski has met the conditions needed for forgiveness by Geimer. I will argue he has not.
Charles Griswold in (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007) sets out the conditions needed for paradigmatic forgiveness. In these conditions Griswold outlines the following three conditions an offender must meet in order to qualify for forgiveness.
“The first of these reasons consists in the wrong-doers demonstration that she no longer wishes to stand by herself as the author of these wrongs …. Second she must repudiate her deeds (by acknowledging their wrongness) …. Third, the wrong-doer must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury to that particular person” (pages 49, 50).
As far as I can see Polanski has not satisfied any of the above conditions. The fact that the rape happened a long time ago or because of the circumstances prevailing in Hollywood at that time doesn’t mean he wasn’t the rapist or that he doesn’t need to repudiate his action by acknowledging the wrongness of that particular rape. Polanski has also never expressed regret for having raped Geimer. It might of course be argued these paradigmatic conditions set too high a standard and that a non-paradigmatic form of forgiveness should be applied. Griswold himself argues for such a position in chapter three of his book. It might then be questioned whether Polanski meets the conditions needed for non-paradigmatic or imperfect forgiveness. Griswold argues imperfect forgiveness must meet a certain threshold and that anything failing to meet this threshold is not an example of forgiveness. One of his three conditions needed for any sort of forgiveness is that,
“the willingness – whether in fact, or imaginatively reconstructed by the victim … - of the offender to take minimal steps to qualify for forgiveness” (page 115).
Intuitively it would seem to be difficult to class some actions as forgiveness if the offender shows no remorse. I will return to this point later in my posting. However for the moment I am going to assume Griswold view is correct and move on to examine one of the minimal steps an offender must take if he is to be forgiven.
The third condition outlined above for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury. Basically the offender must say sorry to the victim. It is not enough for the offender just to feel sorry. I now want to argue this third condition of paradigmatic forgiveness also a threshold condition for imperfect forgiveness. Mary Warnock commenting in the Observer of 26/04/09 on the release of Ronnie Biggs from prison makes the following comment.
“But apologising is an act that may bear no more relation to contrition than "yours sincerely" bears to meaning what you say when you regretfully decline an invitation”.
(http://www.guardian.co.uk/theobserver/2009/apr/26/observer-panel-ronnie-biggs) If Warnock is correct then saying sorry is not a necessary condition for forgiveness. Let us agree with Warnock that signing something “yours sincerely” has little connection to sincerity. But it seems far from clear to me that “saying sorry” is a mere formality and has little connection to contrition. Let it be assumed for the sake of argument that “saying sorry” is indeed a mere formality. However if “saying sorry” is a mere formality it seems hard to understand why Biggs and others find it hard to so do. Such cases strongly suggest that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality bereft of all real meaning. It might be objected more people apologise now than in the past. I will merely comment that often such apologies are made by individuals on behalf of an organisation like a church, a company or political party and are not instances of someone “saying sorry” for some personal action. It still seems to me that “saying sorry” for some personal act is not a mere formality.
I believe “saying sorry” is not easy because it usually involves making a move from excuse to guilt. The move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures himself. It is possible someone like Polanski might excuse his conduct by believing it was just the way people like him behaved in the hedonistic Hollywood of the seventies. If such a person says sorry he not only admits his guilt and by doing so also lets go of his excuse, he becomes a simply a rapist. Let it be accepted if an offender cannot “say sorry” that he must to some degree excuse his conduct. It seems to me if an offender excuses his conduct he has no reason to take the minimal steps needed to qualify for forgiveness. It follows that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality but a necessary condition for even imperfect forgiveness. Indeed if I am correct to connect “saying sorry” with guilt then Griswold’s second condition for paradigmatic forgiveness becomes a threshold condition needed for imperfect forgiveness. It might then be concluded all forgiveness requires firstly that the offender must repudiate his deeds by acknowledging their wrongness and secondly express remorse. Accepting my conclusion implies that because Polanski has failed to meet both of these conditions Geimer cannot forgive him.
It might be pointed out the implications of my conclusion appear to be objectionable. Why should someone like Geimer, who has done no wrong and has been wronged, not be able to forgive the offender in order to leave the offence behind her and move on with the rest of her life? She might adopt the attitude of “I’m not going the let the bastard spoil my life”. I have great sympathy with this position and believe such an attitude together with moving on is commendable. However when doing philosophy, as opposed to pop psychology, we must be accurate with words we use. It would be a mistake simply to equate “moving on” with forgiveness. It seems quite feasible to “move on” by forgetting but forgiving is certainly not the same as forgetting. A victim might possibly forget by taking drugs or possibly even more bizarrely by committing suicide! Moreover the purpose of “moving on” and forgiveness are not the same. The purpose of “moving on” and getting on with the rest of her life is solely to benefit the victim. This is not so with forgiveness. The purpose of forgiveness is to benefit both the victim and offender. For these reasons I believe if an offender, such as Polanski, fails to express any genuine remorse it is impossible for a victim, such as Geimer, to genuinely forgive him. Such a victim can of course “move on” and put the offences committed against behind her.
Charles Griswold in (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007) sets out the conditions needed for paradigmatic forgiveness. In these conditions Griswold outlines the following three conditions an offender must meet in order to qualify for forgiveness.
“The first of these reasons consists in the wrong-doers demonstration that she no longer wishes to stand by herself as the author of these wrongs …. Second she must repudiate her deeds (by acknowledging their wrongness) …. Third, the wrong-doer must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury to that particular person” (pages 49, 50).
As far as I can see Polanski has not satisfied any of the above conditions. The fact that the rape happened a long time ago or because of the circumstances prevailing in Hollywood at that time doesn’t mean he wasn’t the rapist or that he doesn’t need to repudiate his action by acknowledging the wrongness of that particular rape. Polanski has also never expressed regret for having raped Geimer. It might of course be argued these paradigmatic conditions set too high a standard and that a non-paradigmatic form of forgiveness should be applied. Griswold himself argues for such a position in chapter three of his book. It might then be questioned whether Polanski meets the conditions needed for non-paradigmatic or imperfect forgiveness. Griswold argues imperfect forgiveness must meet a certain threshold and that anything failing to meet this threshold is not an example of forgiveness. One of his three conditions needed for any sort of forgiveness is that,
“the willingness – whether in fact, or imaginatively reconstructed by the victim … - of the offender to take minimal steps to qualify for forgiveness” (page 115).
Intuitively it would seem to be difficult to class some actions as forgiveness if the offender shows no remorse. I will return to this point later in my posting. However for the moment I am going to assume Griswold view is correct and move on to examine one of the minimal steps an offender must take if he is to be forgiven.
The third condition outlined above for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury. Basically the offender must say sorry to the victim. It is not enough for the offender just to feel sorry. I now want to argue this third condition of paradigmatic forgiveness also a threshold condition for imperfect forgiveness. Mary Warnock commenting in the Observer of 26/04/09 on the release of Ronnie Biggs from prison makes the following comment.
“But apologising is an act that may bear no more relation to contrition than "yours sincerely" bears to meaning what you say when you regretfully decline an invitation”.
(http://www.guardian.co.uk/theobserver/2009/apr/26/observer-panel-ronnie-biggs) If Warnock is correct then saying sorry is not a necessary condition for forgiveness. Let us agree with Warnock that signing something “yours sincerely” has little connection to sincerity. But it seems far from clear to me that “saying sorry” is a mere formality and has little connection to contrition. Let it be assumed for the sake of argument that “saying sorry” is indeed a mere formality. However if “saying sorry” is a mere formality it seems hard to understand why Biggs and others find it hard to so do. Such cases strongly suggest that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality bereft of all real meaning. It might be objected more people apologise now than in the past. I will merely comment that often such apologies are made by individuals on behalf of an organisation like a church, a company or political party and are not instances of someone “saying sorry” for some personal action. It still seems to me that “saying sorry” for some personal act is not a mere formality.
I believe “saying sorry” is not easy because it usually involves making a move from excuse to guilt. The move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures himself. It is possible someone like Polanski might excuse his conduct by believing it was just the way people like him behaved in the hedonistic Hollywood of the seventies. If such a person says sorry he not only admits his guilt and by doing so also lets go of his excuse, he becomes a simply a rapist. Let it be accepted if an offender cannot “say sorry” that he must to some degree excuse his conduct. It seems to me if an offender excuses his conduct he has no reason to take the minimal steps needed to qualify for forgiveness. It follows that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality but a necessary condition for even imperfect forgiveness. Indeed if I am correct to connect “saying sorry” with guilt then Griswold’s second condition for paradigmatic forgiveness becomes a threshold condition needed for imperfect forgiveness. It might then be concluded all forgiveness requires firstly that the offender must repudiate his deeds by acknowledging their wrongness and secondly express remorse. Accepting my conclusion implies that because Polanski has failed to meet both of these conditions Geimer cannot forgive him.
It might be pointed out the implications of my conclusion appear to be objectionable. Why should someone like Geimer, who has done no wrong and has been wronged, not be able to forgive the offender in order to leave the offence behind her and move on with the rest of her life? She might adopt the attitude of “I’m not going the let the bastard spoil my life”. I have great sympathy with this position and believe such an attitude together with moving on is commendable. However when doing philosophy, as opposed to pop psychology, we must be accurate with words we use. It would be a mistake simply to equate “moving on” with forgiveness. It seems quite feasible to “move on” by forgetting but forgiving is certainly not the same as forgetting. A victim might possibly forget by taking drugs or possibly even more bizarrely by committing suicide! Moreover the purpose of “moving on” and forgiveness are not the same. The purpose of “moving on” and getting on with the rest of her life is solely to benefit the victim. This is not so with forgiveness. The purpose of forgiveness is to benefit both the victim and offender. For these reasons I believe if an offender, such as Polanski, fails to express any genuine remorse it is impossible for a victim, such as Geimer, to genuinely forgive him. Such a victim can of course “move on” and put the offences committed against behind her.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Unconditional Forgiveness
Charles Griswold argues that
there are certain conditions attached to the concept of forgiveness and that
one cannot truly forgive unless these conditions are satisfied (1). It might be
pointed out conditional love is inferior to unconditional love. It might then
be argued by analogy in response to Griswold that conditional forgiveness is
inferior to unconditional forgiveness. In response to this argument, suggested
by Garrard and McNaughton (2) Griswold counter argues that for a victim just to
give unconditional forgiveness means she lacks self-respect. He points out that
intuitively if someone who has been wronged when the offender exhibits no
remorse or indeed continues in the offence holds no resentment then the injured
party has no self-respect.
I find Griswold’s argument persuasive and believe that in some
circumstances unconditional forgiveness does indeed mean the forgiver, the
offended person, lacks self-respect. However, I want to pursue a slightly
different but related argument. In this posting I want to argue that in some
circumstances unconditional forgiveness means the offended person has too much
respect for herself, she is over proud. Let it be accepted that all forgiveness
whether unconditional or not means letting go of resentment. Intuitively this
appears to be true for it seems hard to believe I have forgiven someone if I
still bear resentment towards that person. For the sake of argument let us
assume Sue has been morally harmed by John and that she has unconditionally
forgiven him. In this context because Sue’s forgiveness is unconditional it is
possible that John might remain quite happy with the fact that he has morally
harmed Sue and would be fully prepared to do so again. Also in this context,
because all forgiveness means letting go of resentment, Sue holds no resentment
towards John.
Let us question Sue’s motives in unconditionally forgiving John. It
seems to me Sue’s motives for forgiving John have nothing actually to do with
John. Perhaps Sue believes that the act of forgiving is morally good. Whatever
Sue’s reasons are she is committed to acting morally and she believes John is
acting immorally. It follows even if she does not explicitly believe that she
is better morally than John she must at least implicitly hold this view. What
way might Sue believe she is better morally than John? Firstly it might be
possible that Sue believes she is worthy of more moral consideration than John.
Such a view runs counter to one of the basic tenets of accepted morality,
namely all moral agents are worthy of equal consideration. It follows because
Sue sees herself as a moral person this possibility must be rejected. The
second possibility is that Sue believes she is better at acting morally than
John.
Let us accept this second possibility and agree that Sue sees herself as
a morally good person. Morally good people must consider all moral agents and
not just a select few. I now want to argue that by unconditionally forgiving
John and unconditionally letting go of her resentment Sue does not genuinely
consider his moral needs. I will argue that by withdrawing her resentment Sue
is removing something that might help John become a better person. Resentment,
moral anger, about the way we are being treated is a protest. This protest may
play a part in asserting our self-respect (3), but it also is signal to the
offender that he is causing moral harm. It seems to me that by unconditionally
forgiving John Sue is denying John this signal which might help him become a
better person. The above suggests Sue is only considering herself morally and
disregarding the moral needs of John. Sue certainly acts as if John does not
deserve the same moral consideration as she does and hence runs counter to one
of the basic tenets of accepted morality. However, I accept it is possible Sue
acts from purely altruistic motives and believes that by forgiving John she
benefits him even if in actual fact she does not. However, I would question her
motives. She chooses a course of action most others would not, most people feel
resentment. Moreover she too easily presumes she knows what is best morally for
John. It might be suggested her presumption is based on an excess of moral
pride. In the light of the above it would seem justifiable to conclude that Sue
was wrong to unconditionally forgive John.
It might be countered to my conclusion is unsound. It might be pointed
out that unconditional forgiveness seems to set an excellent example to others
outweighing the reasons I have given for unconditional forgiveness being
unsound. I will very briefly present two counter arguments to show this is not
so. Firstly, I would argue the recognition of others as moral agents is even
more fundamental to morality than any possible demonstration of moral
excellence. Without this basic recognition no system of morality can even get
started. In my example it seems to me Sue may be acting in a way she believes
is best for John but none the less by so doing she is failing to recognise him
as a fully moral agent. Secondly a decision to unconditionally forgive seems to
lack an affective element. I would suggesr that any meaningful moral decision
must at least be partly based on empathic concern, see (4). Sue’s decision to
unconditionally forgive John is not even partly based on empathic concern. To
conclude let us accept that unconditional forgiveness is preferable to no
forgiveness. However the above suggest that conditional forgiveness is
preferable to unconditional forgiveness for two reasons. Firstly unconditional
forgiveness does not truly consider the moral needs of the offender and
secondly the forgiver seems to exhibit an unjustified pride in his forgiveness.
- Charles Griswold, 2007, Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press.
- Garrard & McNaughton, 2003, In Defence of Unconditional Forgiveness, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 104.
- Griswold, page 65.
- Michael Slote, The ethics of Caring and Empathy, Routledge, 2007, page 31.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Pornography
Sex sells or so it would seem. In the western world we have developed a large porn industry as demonstrated by the BBC television documentary ‘Hardcore profits’ broadcast on 08/09/09 and 15/09/09. In this posting I want to specifically consider the harm pornography does to the consumers of pornography. I will not consider the harms done to those involved in making pornography. I believe these harms to be considerable even if it is possible, at least in theory, to have an unexploited pornographer involved in the trade merely to support her family. I will also not discuss the legality of the pornography. I will accept people have a right to make and consume pornography subject to suitable safeguards for minors. My attitude to the legality of pornography is analogous to my attitude to smoking. I am a non smoker who believes smoking, like pornography, is harmful. Nevertheless I am prepared to defend the freedom of smokers to smoke in their own homes and outside areas. It might be objected smoking whilst harmful to the individual does not damage society whilst pornography does. I will merely comment even if pornography does damage society to some degree, which I accept, its prohibition would damage our free society to a far greater degree.
Before I consider the harm pornography does to its consumers I must first define pornography. This task is not as simple as it might appear for whilst most people would easily recognise an example of pornography few could easily define it. Intuitively pornography might be defined as sexually explicit material designed to give sexual arousal to those who view, read or listen to it. The trouble with this definition is that there seems to nothing wrong with either sexual explicitness or arousal. A medical text book might be sexually explicit whilst a man may become aroused by simply watching his partner undress. This suggests that what is wrong with pornography is not that it simply causes arousal but rather the way it causes this arousal. For this reason I am going to initially adopt the definition of pornography given by Caroline West in the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy www.science.uva.nl/~seop/entries/pornography-censorship. She defines pornography as sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers which is bad in a certain way. Some might disagree with this definition pointing out it is already value laden before any discussion of why pornography is bad, see Wendy McElroy’s ‘A Woman’s Right to Pornography’ chapter two is available at www.wendymcelroy.com/xxx/, nevertheless I intend to use West’s definition. In my discussion of pornography I will consider the nature of pornography to be mainly heterosexual and its consumers male even though I accept pornography may be homosexual in nature and used by some women, see link above.
In what way is pornography bad for its consumers? It certainly isn’t bad because of the way its effects on someone’s physical health like smoking. The viewing of pornography and possible subsequent masturbation does not cause blindness and insanity as some Victorians believed. In what follows I will argue what is bad about pornography is not the way it affects someone’s physical or mental health but rather the way it affects his character. I will present three arguments in an attempt to show pornography damages someone’s character. Firstly I will argue pornography damages his natural disposition to feel empathy. Secondly I will argue pornography in some way splits his character and lastly that it damages this character.
I believe that normal human beings have a natural disposition to feel empathy. I further believe this disposition enhances our character. It might then be argued if the use of pornography damages this natural disposition then it also damages our character. Does the use of pornography damage someone’s disposition to feel empathy? The use of pornography certainly means the user uses others instrumentally but this fact alone does not mean his disposition to feel empathy is damaged. For instance he may catch a bus and normally be completely indifferent to the bus driver without any damage being done to his disposition to feel empathy. I see no obvious reason why the way someone uses explicit sexual material must automatically damage this disposition. I see no reason why readers of the Sun who avidly scan page three cannot express as much empathy as anyone else. However I do feel the nature of some explicit sexual material can damage a person’s disposition to feel empathy. The above suggests that the badness in West’s definition lies not in the way the explicit material is used but rather the way people are portrayed in this material. The badness lies in the way the explicit material portrays others as being exploited. Moreover it seems to me this portrayal of exploitation is not an incidental part of but an essential element of sexual arousal. In the light of the above West’s definition might be amended as follows, pornography is sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers in an exploitative way. In practice this portrayal of exploitation for the most part involves those being portrayed in being powerless or humiliated. West’s definition might then be further amended as follows. Pornography is sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers by portraying others as powerless or humiliated in some way. It seems probable to me that pornography, so defined, will damage the consumer of such material’s disposition to feel empathy. I have assumed above that a disposition to feel empathy is part of someone’s good character it follows that any damage done to this disposition will also damage his character.
It might be pointed out in reply to my above conclusion that there is no empirical evidence that the consumption of pornography, explicit sexual material in which others are portrayed as powerless or humiliated, is linked to sexual violence. I am prepared to accept this point but I would merely point out a lack of empathy need not be connected to sexual violence. Someone whose capacity to feel empathy is damaged may be aloof, cold or indifferent to others and these traits are undesirable parts of his character even if they not of necessity linked to sexual violence. However it might also be pointed out I have offered no evidence for my belief connecting the consumption of pornography to the damage done to someone’s capacity to feel empathy. However there is compelling indirect evidence to support this connection. The evidence I offer is based on psychological research which shows the situation someone finds himself in affects his capacity to act beneficently. In 1972 Isen and Levin showed if someone dropped his papers outside a phone booth in a shopping mall he was more likely to be helped by a phone user who had just found a dime in the booth than by a user who had not (The Effect of Feeling Good on Helping: Cookies and Kindness, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 21, 1972). Isen and Levin’s experiment clearly shows the situations which we find ourselves in affect our capacity for beneficence. It seems clear if someone reacts beneficently in such an experiment his decision to help is not based on his rationality. It further seems clear that in such a situation his capacity for empathy is enhanced leading him to react beneficently. It follows the situations we find ourselves in can positively affect our natural capacity for empathy.
In the light of the above I will now argue that a consumer of pornography is placing himself in a situation which will negatively affect his natural disposition for empathy. Sometimes we are in a situation in which we view or read about people who are powerless or humiliated such as famine victims. These people naturally arouse our empathy. However this situation is not the same as the one a consumer of pornography finds himself in. This consumer is purposely placing himself in a situation in which others appear to be purposely harmed by being portrayed as powerless or humiliated. It follows in pornographic situations the consumer must curb his natural empathy. If this was not so it would seem he could enjoy humiliating or degrading sexual acts and still feel empathy for the participants in these acts. It seems highly improbable to me that anyone placing himself in a situation in which he curbs his natural capacity for empathy will not negatively affect this capacity in related situations. These other situations may be related by either time or similar circumstances. It follows if a consumer of pornography purposely limits his capacity for empathy in some situations and as a result damages his capacity for empathy in some related situations that such a consumer will also inevitably damage his character.
I will now attempt to argue pornography in some way splits the personality of the user and that this split is detrimental to his character. I have defined pornography as sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in consumers by portraying others as powerless or humiliated. If men sometimes purposely view women as powerless and in humiliating positions and at other times have to deal with women in more normal situations then it might be argued that the different attitudes in different situations in some ways splits their personality. Of course some more radical feminists might argue it is in all men’s nature to see women powerless and humiliated and that their actual relationships with women are merely coated by some thin veneer of civilisation. It might be thought because I have argued pornography of necessity involves seeing others as powerless and humiliated that I would have some sympathy for such a position. I do not because I believe culture and civilisation contribute to an essential part of our nature and are not merely some thin veneer. I accept that the use of pornography does split the personality of the user. However I believe any evidence that this split damages someone’s character is weak for many people seem able to split their lives into different compartments and provided these compartments don’t overlap this causes no splits in character. It seems to me some people’s character, for example that of Oskar Schindler, seem resilient to splits in their personality. For the above reason I reject the above attempted argument.
My third argument concerning the harm pornography does to a consumer concerns the way that it damages his pride and hence his character. For the moment I am going to assume without any argument that anyone who uses pornography cannot be proud of this fact and that his use damages his pride in himself. Accepting this assumption means I need only to show pride is part of someone’s good character in order to show the use of pornography damages his character. In essence I have to show pride is a virtue. The problem with doing this is that not all pride seems virtuous. For instance the pride of overweight football fans in their team’s athletic success hardly seems to count as a virtue, see (Solomon, 2007, True to our Feelings, Oxford, page 100). Moreover historically Christianity has regarded pride as vice. It seems clear not all pride is virtuous. However I think it is possible to show that a certain kind of pride is both virtuous and an essential part of a good character. In order to do so I will consider gay pride. What are the essentials of gay pride? To me gay pride essentially seems to consist of a rational evaluation that you are homosexual together with being satisfied with your sexuality. Two objections might be raised to the above. Firstly it might be objected that gay pride requires no evaluation by someone that he is a homosexual. Secondly it might be argued what is really important is not someone’s satisfaction with the fact that he is gay but his acceptance of it. My response to the first objection is to point out we often deceive ourselves as to our true nature and because of this I believe a rational evaluation of someone’s sexuality forms an essential element of gay pride. My response to the second objection is to point out someone might accept his homosexuality and be deeply unhappy about it. Such a person is not proud of his sexuality. It follows satisfaction with one’s sexuality appears to be an essential element of gay pride, connecting pride and satisfaction is not new see (Hume, (1978, originally 1739-40) A Treatise of Human Nature, Oxford University Press, page 297). In the light of my discussion of gay pride I suggest pride is indeed a virtue when it is regarded as a rational evaluation of oneself together with being satisfied with oneself.
However if pride is to be regarded as a virtue more needs to be said about being satisfied with oneself. Firstly pride in oneself requires that one must satisfied with a reasonably accurate picture of oneself hence the need for rational evaluation. Secondly satisfaction does not mean some smug emotive feeling about oneself. In previous postings I have frequently used Harry Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction in connection with ‘caring about’ or love. Having pride in oneself must of necessity involve caring about oneself and for this reason I will again use his definition. According to Frankfurt satisfaction entails an absence of restlessness to change one’s condition. A satisfied person is willing to change his condition, but he has no active interest in bringing about any change (see Necessity, Volition, and Love, 1999, Cambridge University Press, page 103). It might be objected that satisfaction so defined merely means acceptance. However this is not so for as I have pointed out above someone may find himself in a situation he dislikes but accepts. Someone for example may accept he will continue to use pornography but be dissatisfied with this situation. In such a situation the person involved does have active interest in bringing about a change in his situation when change is a possibility. It seems provided pride is regarded as a rational evaluation of oneself together with being satisfied with oneself, using Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction, that pride can be regarded as a genuine virtue. I assumed above without any argument that anyone who uses pornography cannot be proud of this fact using Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction I am now in a position to provide a reason to back this assumption. It seems inconceivable to me that any consumer of pornography should feel absolutely no restlessness about this consumption. If it is accepted that pride in oneself is a genuine virtue and that the consumption of pornography damages this pride then it follows that the consumption of pornography damages the consumer’s character.
In conclusion I believe I have shown that the consumption of pornography damages the character of those who consume it. It is important to note I use the word damage rather than destroy. The consumption of pornography makes someone less good than he might possibly be. However it is still possible for someone who consumes pornography to possess a good, if damaged, character. His Character is damaged in two ways. Firstly his consumption of pornography erodes his natural disposition to feel empathy and secondly reduces his ability to feel pride in himself.
Before I consider the harm pornography does to its consumers I must first define pornography. This task is not as simple as it might appear for whilst most people would easily recognise an example of pornography few could easily define it. Intuitively pornography might be defined as sexually explicit material designed to give sexual arousal to those who view, read or listen to it. The trouble with this definition is that there seems to nothing wrong with either sexual explicitness or arousal. A medical text book might be sexually explicit whilst a man may become aroused by simply watching his partner undress. This suggests that what is wrong with pornography is not that it simply causes arousal but rather the way it causes this arousal. For this reason I am going to initially adopt the definition of pornography given by Caroline West in the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy www.science.uva.nl/~seop/entries/pornography-censorship. She defines pornography as sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers which is bad in a certain way. Some might disagree with this definition pointing out it is already value laden before any discussion of why pornography is bad, see Wendy McElroy’s ‘A Woman’s Right to Pornography’ chapter two is available at www.wendymcelroy.com/xxx/, nevertheless I intend to use West’s definition. In my discussion of pornography I will consider the nature of pornography to be mainly heterosexual and its consumers male even though I accept pornography may be homosexual in nature and used by some women, see link above.
In what way is pornography bad for its consumers? It certainly isn’t bad because of the way its effects on someone’s physical health like smoking. The viewing of pornography and possible subsequent masturbation does not cause blindness and insanity as some Victorians believed. In what follows I will argue what is bad about pornography is not the way it affects someone’s physical or mental health but rather the way it affects his character. I will present three arguments in an attempt to show pornography damages someone’s character. Firstly I will argue pornography damages his natural disposition to feel empathy. Secondly I will argue pornography in some way splits his character and lastly that it damages this character.
I believe that normal human beings have a natural disposition to feel empathy. I further believe this disposition enhances our character. It might then be argued if the use of pornography damages this natural disposition then it also damages our character. Does the use of pornography damage someone’s disposition to feel empathy? The use of pornography certainly means the user uses others instrumentally but this fact alone does not mean his disposition to feel empathy is damaged. For instance he may catch a bus and normally be completely indifferent to the bus driver without any damage being done to his disposition to feel empathy. I see no obvious reason why the way someone uses explicit sexual material must automatically damage this disposition. I see no reason why readers of the Sun who avidly scan page three cannot express as much empathy as anyone else. However I do feel the nature of some explicit sexual material can damage a person’s disposition to feel empathy. The above suggests that the badness in West’s definition lies not in the way the explicit material is used but rather the way people are portrayed in this material. The badness lies in the way the explicit material portrays others as being exploited. Moreover it seems to me this portrayal of exploitation is not an incidental part of but an essential element of sexual arousal. In the light of the above West’s definition might be amended as follows, pornography is sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers in an exploitative way. In practice this portrayal of exploitation for the most part involves those being portrayed in being powerless or humiliated. West’s definition might then be further amended as follows. Pornography is sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in its consumers by portraying others as powerless or humiliated in some way. It seems probable to me that pornography, so defined, will damage the consumer of such material’s disposition to feel empathy. I have assumed above that a disposition to feel empathy is part of someone’s good character it follows that any damage done to this disposition will also damage his character.
It might be pointed out in reply to my above conclusion that there is no empirical evidence that the consumption of pornography, explicit sexual material in which others are portrayed as powerless or humiliated, is linked to sexual violence. I am prepared to accept this point but I would merely point out a lack of empathy need not be connected to sexual violence. Someone whose capacity to feel empathy is damaged may be aloof, cold or indifferent to others and these traits are undesirable parts of his character even if they not of necessity linked to sexual violence. However it might also be pointed out I have offered no evidence for my belief connecting the consumption of pornography to the damage done to someone’s capacity to feel empathy. However there is compelling indirect evidence to support this connection. The evidence I offer is based on psychological research which shows the situation someone finds himself in affects his capacity to act beneficently. In 1972 Isen and Levin showed if someone dropped his papers outside a phone booth in a shopping mall he was more likely to be helped by a phone user who had just found a dime in the booth than by a user who had not (The Effect of Feeling Good on Helping: Cookies and Kindness, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 21, 1972). Isen and Levin’s experiment clearly shows the situations which we find ourselves in affect our capacity for beneficence. It seems clear if someone reacts beneficently in such an experiment his decision to help is not based on his rationality. It further seems clear that in such a situation his capacity for empathy is enhanced leading him to react beneficently. It follows the situations we find ourselves in can positively affect our natural capacity for empathy.
In the light of the above I will now argue that a consumer of pornography is placing himself in a situation which will negatively affect his natural disposition for empathy. Sometimes we are in a situation in which we view or read about people who are powerless or humiliated such as famine victims. These people naturally arouse our empathy. However this situation is not the same as the one a consumer of pornography finds himself in. This consumer is purposely placing himself in a situation in which others appear to be purposely harmed by being portrayed as powerless or humiliated. It follows in pornographic situations the consumer must curb his natural empathy. If this was not so it would seem he could enjoy humiliating or degrading sexual acts and still feel empathy for the participants in these acts. It seems highly improbable to me that anyone placing himself in a situation in which he curbs his natural capacity for empathy will not negatively affect this capacity in related situations. These other situations may be related by either time or similar circumstances. It follows if a consumer of pornography purposely limits his capacity for empathy in some situations and as a result damages his capacity for empathy in some related situations that such a consumer will also inevitably damage his character.
I will now attempt to argue pornography in some way splits the personality of the user and that this split is detrimental to his character. I have defined pornography as sexually explicit material designed to produce sexual arousal in consumers by portraying others as powerless or humiliated. If men sometimes purposely view women as powerless and in humiliating positions and at other times have to deal with women in more normal situations then it might be argued that the different attitudes in different situations in some ways splits their personality. Of course some more radical feminists might argue it is in all men’s nature to see women powerless and humiliated and that their actual relationships with women are merely coated by some thin veneer of civilisation. It might be thought because I have argued pornography of necessity involves seeing others as powerless and humiliated that I would have some sympathy for such a position. I do not because I believe culture and civilisation contribute to an essential part of our nature and are not merely some thin veneer. I accept that the use of pornography does split the personality of the user. However I believe any evidence that this split damages someone’s character is weak for many people seem able to split their lives into different compartments and provided these compartments don’t overlap this causes no splits in character. It seems to me some people’s character, for example that of Oskar Schindler, seem resilient to splits in their personality. For the above reason I reject the above attempted argument.
My third argument concerning the harm pornography does to a consumer concerns the way that it damages his pride and hence his character. For the moment I am going to assume without any argument that anyone who uses pornography cannot be proud of this fact and that his use damages his pride in himself. Accepting this assumption means I need only to show pride is part of someone’s good character in order to show the use of pornography damages his character. In essence I have to show pride is a virtue. The problem with doing this is that not all pride seems virtuous. For instance the pride of overweight football fans in their team’s athletic success hardly seems to count as a virtue, see (Solomon, 2007, True to our Feelings, Oxford, page 100). Moreover historically Christianity has regarded pride as vice. It seems clear not all pride is virtuous. However I think it is possible to show that a certain kind of pride is both virtuous and an essential part of a good character. In order to do so I will consider gay pride. What are the essentials of gay pride? To me gay pride essentially seems to consist of a rational evaluation that you are homosexual together with being satisfied with your sexuality. Two objections might be raised to the above. Firstly it might be objected that gay pride requires no evaluation by someone that he is a homosexual. Secondly it might be argued what is really important is not someone’s satisfaction with the fact that he is gay but his acceptance of it. My response to the first objection is to point out we often deceive ourselves as to our true nature and because of this I believe a rational evaluation of someone’s sexuality forms an essential element of gay pride. My response to the second objection is to point out someone might accept his homosexuality and be deeply unhappy about it. Such a person is not proud of his sexuality. It follows satisfaction with one’s sexuality appears to be an essential element of gay pride, connecting pride and satisfaction is not new see (Hume, (1978, originally 1739-40) A Treatise of Human Nature, Oxford University Press, page 297). In the light of my discussion of gay pride I suggest pride is indeed a virtue when it is regarded as a rational evaluation of oneself together with being satisfied with oneself.
However if pride is to be regarded as a virtue more needs to be said about being satisfied with oneself. Firstly pride in oneself requires that one must satisfied with a reasonably accurate picture of oneself hence the need for rational evaluation. Secondly satisfaction does not mean some smug emotive feeling about oneself. In previous postings I have frequently used Harry Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction in connection with ‘caring about’ or love. Having pride in oneself must of necessity involve caring about oneself and for this reason I will again use his definition. According to Frankfurt satisfaction entails an absence of restlessness to change one’s condition. A satisfied person is willing to change his condition, but he has no active interest in bringing about any change (see Necessity, Volition, and Love, 1999, Cambridge University Press, page 103). It might be objected that satisfaction so defined merely means acceptance. However this is not so for as I have pointed out above someone may find himself in a situation he dislikes but accepts. Someone for example may accept he will continue to use pornography but be dissatisfied with this situation. In such a situation the person involved does have active interest in bringing about a change in his situation when change is a possibility. It seems provided pride is regarded as a rational evaluation of oneself together with being satisfied with oneself, using Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction, that pride can be regarded as a genuine virtue. I assumed above without any argument that anyone who uses pornography cannot be proud of this fact using Frankfurt’s definition of satisfaction I am now in a position to provide a reason to back this assumption. It seems inconceivable to me that any consumer of pornography should feel absolutely no restlessness about this consumption. If it is accepted that pride in oneself is a genuine virtue and that the consumption of pornography damages this pride then it follows that the consumption of pornography damages the consumer’s character.
In conclusion I believe I have shown that the consumption of pornography damages the character of those who consume it. It is important to note I use the word damage rather than destroy. The consumption of pornography makes someone less good than he might possibly be. However it is still possible for someone who consumes pornography to possess a good, if damaged, character. His Character is damaged in two ways. Firstly his consumption of pornography erodes his natural disposition to feel empathy and secondly reduces his ability to feel pride in himself.
Friday, 4 September 2009
Why love is not just a disposition to feel empathy
In my last two postings I have argued the love of inanimate objects may not be same as the love of persons and that loving someone might simply be a disposition to feel empathy for beloved. However I will now present two examples which appear contradict my previous view. My first example is of a mother’s love of her baby and my second is self-love. I will firstly consider a mother’s love and attempt to show this love is incompatible with love being regarded as a disposition to feel empathy and I will then repeat the exercise with self-love.
Empathy is defined by the Cambridge Online Dictionary as
follows; empathy is the ability to share someone else's feelings or
experiences by imagining what it would be like to be in their situation. Let it
be assumed that loving someone simply means having a disposition to feel
empathy for her. It follows if a mother loves her baby she is able to share her
baby’s feelings or experiences. I accept a mother may share her child’s
feelings or experiences but it seems inconceivable to me that a mother could
share her baby’s feelings or experiences. A baby’s experiences just aren’t
available to others. Moreover it would seem to be impossible for a mother to
share her baby’s feelings by imagining what it would be like to be a baby. She
might of course be able to imagine what it would be like for her to
be a baby but this is by no means the same thing as imagining what it is like
to be a baby. It follows if we accept the premise that love is simply a
disposition to feel empathy it follows that mothers are unable to love their
babies. Mothers clearly do love their babies. It follows the above conclusion
is false and we must reject the premise it is based on.
Are there any counter arguments which would enable us to
accept the above premise and also accept that mothers love their babies? If
empathy is defined as above it seems to me the answer is clearly no. However
let us consider a real case in order to clarify our concept of empathy. In 2007
the Washington Post reported that a colonel in the US army called off a test
using a land mine sweeping robot because it continued sweeping after losing
several of its legs. The colonel declared the test was inhumane. What might be
the reasons behind the colonel’s decision? His decision was clearly not based
on pure rationality. It follows the colonel’s decision was at least in part
emotionally based. People have a tendency to anthropomorphise in such
situations. It seems likely this was happening in this case, the colonel was
treating the robot as if it was something like a human being. It further seems to
me the colonel was doing so because he attributed feelings or emotions to the
robot. The colonel felt sympathy for the robot. I believe feeling sympathy is
connected to some degree with feeling empathy. Sympathy is defined by the
Cambridge Online Dictionary as; an expression of understanding and care for
someone else's suffering. It seems to me one cannot possibly understand someone
else’s suffering unless one has some ability to share that person’s
feelings or experiences. Admittedly this sharing does not need to be very
precise. For instance a child may share a sense of unease with his mother who
has lost her partner. The mother feels uneasy but it would be more accurate to
say she feels grief. I believe for sympathy to take place between persons there
must be some basic sharing of feelings, or at the very least moods, between the
persons involved. I believe understanding how someone feels must involve
emotion. I cannot use pure logic to understand someone’s grief. Moreover the
emotion involved must be an appropriate emotion. It makes no sense to say I
understand someone’s grief if the only emotion I feel is happiness. Accepting
the above means sympathy of necessity involves some basic form of empathy.
Accepting the above also means the colonel felt some basic or primitive form of
empathy for the robot. Clearly this scenario is nonsensical. However it might
be suggested this difficultly might be overcome if a primitive form of empathy
was defined as the ability to experience what you believe to
be someone or something else's feelings or experiences by imagining what it
would be like to be in their situation. It might then be argued that whilst a
mother cannot feel full blown empathy for her baby she may nonetheless feel
some primitive form of empathy based on what she believes her baby feels. And
her disposition to feel this primitive empathy can form a basis of her love for
her baby.
The question I now wish to address is whether the primitive
form of empathy defined above really is a form of empathy? Does this primitive
form of empathy even exist? It seems clear to me the concept of empathy can be
stretched and that the feeling of empathy is to some extent a matter of degree.
For instance I may have the ability to share some of someone else's feelings or
experiences but not others. This is probably particularly true of the sharing
of some feelings and experiences between men and women. However is describing,
the ability to experience what you believe to be someone or something else's
feelings or experiences as empathy, stretching the concept of empathy too far?
Let it be accepted that the feeling of empathy depends on our ability to experience
emotions as well as place ourselves in someone else’s situation. The connection
between the emotion and the situation cannot be purely arbitrary. I believe
empathy should not be regarded as the feeling of any emotion but the feeling of
an appropriate emotion. The feeling of a shared emotion
is an appropriate emotion. It follows the feeling of a believed shared emotion
is not an appropriate emotion and for this reason, the ability to share what
you believe to be someone or something else's feelings or experiences, is not a
genuine form of empathy. Let us accept that mothers do love their babies. Let
us also accept that mothers cannot feel or have a disposition to feel empathy for
their babies. It follows that loving someone cannot simply be a disposition to
feel empathy for the beloved.
It might be pointed out in response to the above that
loving friends, partners and children differs from loving babies. It might then
be suggested that loving someone other than babies means loving persons. Young
babies might be regarded as human beings and potential persons rather than
actual persons. It might then be further suggested that loving a person simply
means having a disposition to feel empathy for her. Accepting these suggestions
would not mean we don’t love babies, for clearly we do, but rather that we love
babies in a different way to the way we love persons. I would be reluctant to
accept to this suggestion. For they imply either we love babies in the same way
as we love cities, landscapes or a particular piece of music. Or that we love
babies in a completely different way to the way we love both inanimate things
and the way we love persons.
My second example of why it is hard to accept that loving,
someone is simply a disposition to feel empathy, is connected to self-love. Let
it be accepted that I cannot feel empathy for myself. It follows if loving
someone simply means having a disposition to feel empathy for that person that self-love
is impossible. Intuitively we can love ourselves. If our intuitions are correct
we must reject the premise that loving someone simply means having a
disposition to feel empathy for her.
Let it be accepted the two examples I have used show that I
was wrong to argue that loving someone might simply be a disposition to feel
empathy for the beloved in a previous posting. However the idea of self-love is
interesting and I now wish to examine self-love further in order to try and better
understand the nature of love. Some people believe that the self-love is not at
all bad even if it runs counter to accepted morality. They might use Nietzsche
to justify this belief. However I would argue such a belief is based on a false
view about the nature of love. This false view seems to connect loving purely
with satisfying our desires. Nietzsche would have approved of the strong
satisfying their desires. However let us consider a mother who desires chips,
cocaine, cigarettes and large quantities of alcohol. Let it be assumed she
neglects her child and indulges in all of the above. If loving one-self is
purely a matter of satisfying one’s desires then clearly this mother loves
herself. It might be objected my example only shows that self-love based on the
rather basic desires, I introduced in my example, is not genuine self-love. My
objector might then be suggest that the satisfaction of noble desires is a form
of self-love. Once again Nietzsche might well have approved of this objection
seeing the desire for power rather than gluttony as a form of self-love. My
reply to this objection is simple. I do not deny love can be connected to our
desires. Indeed I believe love must be connected to our desires. I do however
believe love cannot be only connected to our desires.
If love can be based on noble but not base desires then there must be some way,
of differentiating between noble and base desires. Furthermore any way of
differentiating between noble and base desires cannot itself be a desire.
Returning to my example I would suggest that the mother in question not only
neglects her child but that she also neglects herself. I would further argue
anyone who neglects herself does not genuinely love herself. My reason being I
believe loving is linked to caring about and it follows loving oneself involves
caring about oneself.
I accept Harry Frankfurt is correct when he states that
love is a form of ‘caring about’ and that love concerns the will rather than
being a simple emotion. Love has persistence and desires and emotions however
noble need not. This persistence was
the main reason for my suggestion that love might be defined as a disposition
to feel an emotion. It in order to better understand the nature of love we must
understand the nature of caring about. What then does caring about consist of?
Frankfurt argues a lover is benefited when her beloved flourishes and this
means accepting the interests of her beloved as her own (1). Let it be accepted
‘caring about’ ourselves is the same as ‘caring about’ others. It follows if we
‘care about’ ourselves we must be concerned with our flourishing and our
interests.
Let us accept that if I love someone that I must be
concerned with my beloved’s flourishing and furthering her interests. It seems
to me this concern must contain two important elements. Firstly this concern
cannot be a passive concern but must involve action. If my beloved needs help
and I fail to help for no good reason then it must be questioned whether my
love is genuine. Secondly this concern must involve some reflection. If I am
genuinely concerned with someone’s flourishing and interests I must concerned
with how my actions will promote this flourishing and these interests. It
follows loving defined as ‘caring about’ someone must involve our cognitive
powers. Accepting that love involves cognition does not of course imply that
love does not also involve the emotions. Personally I would argue love must
involve the emotions. I pointed out in my posting ‘love revisited’ some
philosophers would argue emotions are intentional and as a result must have a
cognitive element. If this is correct then love might be regarded as an emotion
which includes a cognitive element. However I myself am doubtful as to whether
emotions contain a cognitive element. Emotions might of course act as alarms
calling for reflection by our cognitive elements, see Brady (2). Our emotions
might alert us to consider the needs of our beloved. It seems to me that any
meaningful actions, including loving ones, must depend on both a cognitive and
affective element for without any affective element we have no reason to act.
I have argued loving someone must include a reflective
element. This conclusion seems at odds with some parts of Frankfurt’s concept
of love. Frankfurt argues a lover,
“is not free. On the contrary, he is in the very nature of
the case captivated by his beloved and his love. The will of the lover is
rigorously constrained. Love is not a matter of choice. (3)
Clearly reflection serves no useful purpose if someone’s
will is rigorously constrained. Am I wrong to argue love involves reflection or
is it possible to reconcile these two views? Frankfurt’s defines loving in
terms of what a lover cares about. He also defines autonomous decisions as
decisions the agent cares about. Cuypers believes Frankfurt’s concept of
autonomy and hence his concept of love is a hybrid concept. He believes this
hybrid as a combination of voluntaristic and non-voluntaristic components. He
argues that the harmonious agreement between a person’s second-order volitions
and his first order desires defines the voluntaristic component. He then
further argues that the non-voluntaristic component consists of what the agent
cares about (2). I have some sympathy for Cuypers view. However I believe
these two views might be better reconciled by differentiating
between the way someone loves a beloved and comes to love a beloved.
I believe the way we love someone involves reflection. We
must consider the interests of our beloved. The way we come to love someone
might not. The way we come to love someone is constrained. It seems ridiculous
to me to say I choose to love Jennifer, Newcastle United or philosophy. Do the
emotions play any part in the way I come to love someone? Frankfurt would argue
not. According to him the emotions have no persistence whilst love does. Indeed
it might argued that he believes what defines coming to love someone is a lack
of emotion. A lover might be defined as a satisfied person, perhaps willing to
change her beloved, but also one who has no active interest in bringing about
such a change. Intuitively however coming to love someone does involve emotion.
If I come to some love someone I identify with her and as a result I become
vulnerable to any harm that befalls her and become distressed as a result. It
might be suggested coming to love someone means coming to have a disposition to
feel empathy for her. However my example of the love between a mother and her
baby seems to make this concept of coming to love difficult to accept. For this
reason it
might be suggested that coming to love someone simply means coming to be pleased
when she is pleased and distressed when she is distressed. It might
be objected that accepting this suggestion seems to conflate coming to love and
actual loving. In response I would argue that someone cannot come to love
someone without actually loving her. Loving someone of necessity must involve
some emotion, if I love someone and she becomes distressed I must also become
distressed. It follows coming to love does involve the emotions.
However I can feel distress for a lot of people I hardly
know. For instance I may feel distress at seeing the distress of famine victims
on TV, victims I don’t really know. It follows if my suggestion is accepted
that I love these famine victims. It might then be pointed out this love seems
counter to our intuitions of love. I am however prepared to argue that I do in
fact love these victims to some degree. The degree to which I love my wife,
children, friends and neighbours varies greatly. I see no reason why I should
not feel at least some slight degree love for these famine victims. Indeed it
might be a natural default position for most people to feel some degree of love
for others. Optimistically considering the last century one of the defining
characteristics of persons might be a natural tendency to love. People lacking
this tendency such as sociopaths might be seen as damaged persons.
There is one final question I wish to address in this
posting; does coming to love come to involve our rational faculties in any way?
Clearly we may choose who we wish to marry but not who we love. Prima facie if
it is accepted that our love is constrained it might be concluded our rational
faculties play no part in our coming to love. I will argue such a prima facie
conclusion is unjustified. What is meant by our will being constrained when we
come to love? It certainly doesn’t mean our will is constrained by others. It
means we cannot choose whom we come to love, our will is constrained by forces
which are part of us, we like Luther can do no other. However these
constraining forces are our constraining forces and hence our will seem likely
to shaped by our perceptions of the world. These perceptions include our
beliefs. Our rational faculties shape these beliefs. My perceptions of a
situation surely partly determine the emotions I feel as I pointed in my
posting love revisited. In this posting I pointed out if I am fearful, because
I perceive a tiger approaching me, my perception is the cause of my fear.
Moreover part of my perception must include the concept that tigers are
dangerous. It might now be argued our perception of someone, which includes
cognitive elements, frames our coming to love that person and reason indirectly
affects our choice of a beloved.
- Harry Frankfurt, 2006,Taking Ourselves Seriously, Stanford University Press, page 41.
- Michael Brady, 2013, Emotional Insight; The Epistemic Role of Emotional Experience, Oxford University Press.
- Frankfurt, 1999, Necessity Volition and Love, Cambridge University Press, page 135.
- Stefaan Cuypers, 2000, In Defence of Hierarchy, , Canadian Journal of Philosophy 30(2).
Friday, 31 July 2009
Love and Wholeheartedness
In my previous posting I presented two arguments. Firstly I argued loving persons is not the same as loving inanimate things such as cities, music or philosophical musings. Secondly I argued the love of persons might be best defined by someone having a disposition to feel empathy. In this posting I want to consider how this definition of love concurs with some of Harry Frankfurt’s ideas on love. Frankfurt believes love is both involuntary and must be persistent. In my previous posting I argued the above definition of love is compatible with both of these ideas. I will not repeat those arguments here. Frankfurt also believes a lover must be wholehearted. In this posting the question I want to examine is this. If love is a disposition to feel empathy must the lover be wholehearted? I will argue she does not.
Before proceeding I must make clear what Frankfurt means by wholeheartedness. He believes wholeheartedness requires that a lover must be able to love some things more than she loves others. He also believes wholeheartedness means a lover must in some sense be satisfied with the things she loves. This satisfaction is not some smug satisfaction but is defined by Frankfurt as follows,
“What satisfaction does entail is an absence of restlessness or resistance. A satisfied person may be willing to accept a change in his condition, but he has no active interest in bringing about a change” (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, Cambridge University Press, page 103,).
A wholehearted person is contrasted to an ambivalent person. Such a person he believes is a wanton because she is torn in different directions and suffers from volitional division according to Frankfurt. Indeed it is argued by Cuypers that such a person is threatened by disintegration and personality disorder (2000, Autonomy, beyond voluntarism, In Defence of Hierarchy, Canadian Journal of Philosophy 30(2), page 236).
Frankfurt’s concept of satisfaction is central to his ideas concerning wholeheartedness and ambivalence. For this reason prior to my examination as to, whether regarding love as a disposition to feel empathy is compatible with wholeheartedness, I must first examine what is meant by satisfaction. Prior to doing this it must be clear that when I talk of love I am only talking about the love of persons. I believe love is not a simple unified concept as I argued in my previous posting. It follows when examining satisfaction in connection with wholeheartedness I am only talking about being satisfied with those we love rather than the things we love. Moreover by love I do not simply mean erotic love of one’s partner but include the love of children, friends, colleagues and even acquaintances. Love so defined seems to reflect real life in which we love different people to varying degrees. It seems clear someone may be completely satisfied with loving each of her beloveds but still be dissatisfied to some degree with the way she loves her beloveds. Wholeheartedness according to Frankfurt means a lover must be able to come to love some things more than she loves others. It follows satisfaction in regard to wholeheartedness means a lover is able to eliminate any conflict between loving her beloveds by ranking how much she loves each of them. Ranking of course does not mean the lover must be able attach weights to her various beloveds but only that she is satisfied she loves one more than another.
I am now in a position to address the question as to whether if love is a disposition to feel empathy a lover must be wholehearted. Clearly a lover can have a disposition to feel empathy for John and at the same time have a disposition to feel empathy for Jane. The question I am addressing is whether such a lover can have both these dispositions whilst being unable to say with certainty whether she loves John or Jane the most. If the lover’s life is highly compartmentalised and she actually feels empathy for John or Jane in different compartments of her life it seems possible that she can love both John and Jane without ever having to say with certainty which of the two she loves the most. However love is not easily compartmentalised and in most cases a lover may have to decide which of her beloveds she love the most. I have argued wholeheartedness requires that a lover in such situation must be able to make a decision she is satisfied with based on her ability to rank the things she loves. Let it be assumed a lover feels empathic concern for John and Jane at the same time. Let be further assumed she can only act on one these concerns and makes a decision she is not wholly satisfied with. I can see no reason why these two assumptions are incompatible in practice. It follows if love is simply a disposition to feel empathy a lover need not be wholehearted. Such a conclusion seems to concur with our intuitive ideas of love as is shown by considering the following example. Let it be assumed Samantha is married and has a child she loves called Jane in addition she loves John. Let it be further assumed Sam wishes to leave her husband to live with John but doing so will cause some damage to her beloved Jane. It is easy to imagine in this situation that regardless of whether Sam leaves her husband, because of her love of John, or remains in a loveless marriage, because of her love for Jane, she will have some regrets and be dissatisfied to some degree.
I will now briefly examine two of the implications of accepting my conclusion. Accepting the above means a lover may be satisfied with her beloved or beloveds but still not be be completely satisfied as a lover because she is unable to rank the things she loves. It is important to be clear what I mean by rank the things she loves. The ability to rank the things a lover loves does not mean she must be able reflect on or even make a conscious decision about this ranking. It only means a lover can choose between the various things she loves without any hint of dissatisfaction with her decision. If it is accepted that love is simply a disposition to feel empathy then a lover may well be dissatisfied with some of her decisions. It follows all the things a lover loves need not be united in any meaningful way and she is not wholehearted. Frankfurt believes if lover is not wholehearted she is ambivalent. Moreover ambivalence is a disease of the will. Both Cuypers and Frankfurt believe the ambivalent person cannot make meaningful decisions concerning love. Indeed Cuypers implies that an ambivalent lover is threatened by disintegration and personality disorder, see above. I see no reason to accept such an implication. In practice it seems there is no unity between all of a lover’s loves as we often consider a lover as torn between two loves. Further in practice it seems in most cases that even if a lover is ambivalent about some of her loves she is still able to choose between these loves. Moreover by doing so she is not usually threatened by either the disintegration of her character or personality disorder. In my example let it be assumed Sam arbitrarily decides to stay with her husband, because she loves Jane, and let it be further assumed that this choice does not work out as well as she envisioned. It is quite plausible to believe in this situation Sam will abide by her decision and not be threatened by personality disorder even if she has long lasting regrets.
Frankfurt links the ability to love, to care about, to autonomy. It seems to me Frankfurt holds a lover is necessarily an autonomous person. This follows because a lover must be wholehearted and be able to rank the things she loves and hence has the ability to make an un-ambivalent decision with which she is completely satisfied. Frankfurt contrasts an autonomous person, a lover who cares about something, with a wanton who has no means of making meaningful decisions (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, Cambridge University Press, page 106). I have argued a lover is simply someone with a disposition to feel empathy and that a lover need not be wholehearted. If my argument is accepted it implies a lover is not of necessity an autonomous person. Nonetheless I believe Frankfurt is right to associate love with autonomy because it seems obvious if someone doesn’t care about x she cannot make an autonomous decision concerning x. I also believe Frankfurt is correct in arguing that someone making an autonomous decision must be in some sense wholehearted. If love is simply a disposition to feel empathy it follows loving, caring about, x is a necessary but not a sufficient condition to make an autonomous decision concerning x. In the light of the above I want to revisit my example. Sam was torn between her love for John and Jane. Sam loved both John and Jane but her love was not wholehearted. In the light of the above Sam could not make an autonomous decision as to whether she should leave her husband for John. Nevertheless as I pointed out above I see no reason why we should regard Sam as non-autonomous or a wanton person. The above suggests that when we consider autonomy we should be concerned with autonomous decisions rather than autonomous persons. It further suggests that when we consider wholeheartedness we should only consider whether someone is wholehearted with respect to the things she loves or cares about which are relevant to the actual decision she is making. We should not be too concerned whether she is totally wholehearted where totally wholehearted means she must be wholehearted in relation to all the things she loves or cares about. Indeed in practice it would seem to be impossible ever to be sure someone was totally wholehearted.
Before proceeding I must make clear what Frankfurt means by wholeheartedness. He believes wholeheartedness requires that a lover must be able to love some things more than she loves others. He also believes wholeheartedness means a lover must in some sense be satisfied with the things she loves. This satisfaction is not some smug satisfaction but is defined by Frankfurt as follows,
“What satisfaction does entail is an absence of restlessness or resistance. A satisfied person may be willing to accept a change in his condition, but he has no active interest in bringing about a change” (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, Cambridge University Press, page 103,).
A wholehearted person is contrasted to an ambivalent person. Such a person he believes is a wanton because she is torn in different directions and suffers from volitional division according to Frankfurt. Indeed it is argued by Cuypers that such a person is threatened by disintegration and personality disorder (2000, Autonomy, beyond voluntarism, In Defence of Hierarchy, Canadian Journal of Philosophy 30(2), page 236).
Frankfurt’s concept of satisfaction is central to his ideas concerning wholeheartedness and ambivalence. For this reason prior to my examination as to, whether regarding love as a disposition to feel empathy is compatible with wholeheartedness, I must first examine what is meant by satisfaction. Prior to doing this it must be clear that when I talk of love I am only talking about the love of persons. I believe love is not a simple unified concept as I argued in my previous posting. It follows when examining satisfaction in connection with wholeheartedness I am only talking about being satisfied with those we love rather than the things we love. Moreover by love I do not simply mean erotic love of one’s partner but include the love of children, friends, colleagues and even acquaintances. Love so defined seems to reflect real life in which we love different people to varying degrees. It seems clear someone may be completely satisfied with loving each of her beloveds but still be dissatisfied to some degree with the way she loves her beloveds. Wholeheartedness according to Frankfurt means a lover must be able to come to love some things more than she loves others. It follows satisfaction in regard to wholeheartedness means a lover is able to eliminate any conflict between loving her beloveds by ranking how much she loves each of them. Ranking of course does not mean the lover must be able attach weights to her various beloveds but only that she is satisfied she loves one more than another.
I am now in a position to address the question as to whether if love is a disposition to feel empathy a lover must be wholehearted. Clearly a lover can have a disposition to feel empathy for John and at the same time have a disposition to feel empathy for Jane. The question I am addressing is whether such a lover can have both these dispositions whilst being unable to say with certainty whether she loves John or Jane the most. If the lover’s life is highly compartmentalised and she actually feels empathy for John or Jane in different compartments of her life it seems possible that she can love both John and Jane without ever having to say with certainty which of the two she loves the most. However love is not easily compartmentalised and in most cases a lover may have to decide which of her beloveds she love the most. I have argued wholeheartedness requires that a lover in such situation must be able to make a decision she is satisfied with based on her ability to rank the things she loves. Let it be assumed a lover feels empathic concern for John and Jane at the same time. Let be further assumed she can only act on one these concerns and makes a decision she is not wholly satisfied with. I can see no reason why these two assumptions are incompatible in practice. It follows if love is simply a disposition to feel empathy a lover need not be wholehearted. Such a conclusion seems to concur with our intuitive ideas of love as is shown by considering the following example. Let it be assumed Samantha is married and has a child she loves called Jane in addition she loves John. Let it be further assumed Sam wishes to leave her husband to live with John but doing so will cause some damage to her beloved Jane. It is easy to imagine in this situation that regardless of whether Sam leaves her husband, because of her love of John, or remains in a loveless marriage, because of her love for Jane, she will have some regrets and be dissatisfied to some degree.
I will now briefly examine two of the implications of accepting my conclusion. Accepting the above means a lover may be satisfied with her beloved or beloveds but still not be be completely satisfied as a lover because she is unable to rank the things she loves. It is important to be clear what I mean by rank the things she loves. The ability to rank the things a lover loves does not mean she must be able reflect on or even make a conscious decision about this ranking. It only means a lover can choose between the various things she loves without any hint of dissatisfaction with her decision. If it is accepted that love is simply a disposition to feel empathy then a lover may well be dissatisfied with some of her decisions. It follows all the things a lover loves need not be united in any meaningful way and she is not wholehearted. Frankfurt believes if lover is not wholehearted she is ambivalent. Moreover ambivalence is a disease of the will. Both Cuypers and Frankfurt believe the ambivalent person cannot make meaningful decisions concerning love. Indeed Cuypers implies that an ambivalent lover is threatened by disintegration and personality disorder, see above. I see no reason to accept such an implication. In practice it seems there is no unity between all of a lover’s loves as we often consider a lover as torn between two loves. Further in practice it seems in most cases that even if a lover is ambivalent about some of her loves she is still able to choose between these loves. Moreover by doing so she is not usually threatened by either the disintegration of her character or personality disorder. In my example let it be assumed Sam arbitrarily decides to stay with her husband, because she loves Jane, and let it be further assumed that this choice does not work out as well as she envisioned. It is quite plausible to believe in this situation Sam will abide by her decision and not be threatened by personality disorder even if she has long lasting regrets.
Frankfurt links the ability to love, to care about, to autonomy. It seems to me Frankfurt holds a lover is necessarily an autonomous person. This follows because a lover must be wholehearted and be able to rank the things she loves and hence has the ability to make an un-ambivalent decision with which she is completely satisfied. Frankfurt contrasts an autonomous person, a lover who cares about something, with a wanton who has no means of making meaningful decisions (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, Cambridge University Press, page 106). I have argued a lover is simply someone with a disposition to feel empathy and that a lover need not be wholehearted. If my argument is accepted it implies a lover is not of necessity an autonomous person. Nonetheless I believe Frankfurt is right to associate love with autonomy because it seems obvious if someone doesn’t care about x she cannot make an autonomous decision concerning x. I also believe Frankfurt is correct in arguing that someone making an autonomous decision must be in some sense wholehearted. If love is simply a disposition to feel empathy it follows loving, caring about, x is a necessary but not a sufficient condition to make an autonomous decision concerning x. In the light of the above I want to revisit my example. Sam was torn between her love for John and Jane. Sam loved both John and Jane but her love was not wholehearted. In the light of the above Sam could not make an autonomous decision as to whether she should leave her husband for John. Nevertheless as I pointed out above I see no reason why we should regard Sam as non-autonomous or a wanton person. The above suggests that when we consider autonomy we should be concerned with autonomous decisions rather than autonomous persons. It further suggests that when we consider wholeheartedness we should only consider whether someone is wholehearted with respect to the things she loves or cares about which are relevant to the actual decision she is making. We should not be too concerned whether she is totally wholehearted where totally wholehearted means she must be wholehearted in relation to all the things she loves or cares about. Indeed in practice it would seem to be impossible ever to be sure someone was totally wholehearted.
Thursday, 9 July 2009
Love Revisited
Love or ‘caring about’ is a constant theme of this blog. In previous postings I have discussed love in relation to keeping dogs, dissident IRA republican killers and arranged marriages. In this posting I want to examine the nature of love rather than any of its affects. It was suggested to me by Ian Law of Birmingham University in discussion that love is simply an emotion. In this examination I want firstly to discuss whether Ian was correct and secondly what this discussion tells us about emotions.
Before discussing the nature of love it must be clear what is meant by love. I consider love to be ‘caring about something’ as defined by Frankfurt.
“A person who cares about something is, as it were invested in it. He identifies himself with what he cares about in the sense that he makes himself vulnerable to losses and susceptible to benefits depending upon whether what he cares about is diminished or enhanced” (1988, The Importance of What We Care About, Cambridge University Press, page 84).
The question I now wish to address is whether equating love with such ‘caring about’ is compatible with love being regarded as an emotion? Frankfurt would argue it is not,
“That a person cares about something or that he loves something has less to do with how things make him feel, or his opinions about them, than the more or less stable motivational structures that shape his preferences and guide his conduct” (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love. Cambridge University Press, page 129).
Why does Frankfurt believe love is not an emotion? Because he believes love must have some persistence and he also believes emotions do not have persistence. It seems clear that love cannot be turned off and on like a tap. It is also clear that emotions unlike love can quickly change. For this reason I accept love cannot be simply regarded as an emotion. Accepting the above of course does not mean love is unconnected to the emotions. Indeed I will now argue love must of necessity be connected to the emotions. I will argue love might be seen as a persistent emotion, a disposition to have an emotion or a sentiment.
If a lover identifies himself with what he cares about and makes himself vulnerable to the losses and susceptible to the benefits of love then love can be a motivation to act. Indeed if a lover can act to protect or benefit his beloved and fails to do so for no good reason it might be questioned whether he is a genuine lover. Love appears to be a matter of the will. Hume famously argued reason is the slave of the passions, the emotions in current parlance, and that reason alone gives us no motivation to act. It would appear to follow if we accept that reason alone gives us no reason to act and that love is a motivation for action then love must be an emotion. However I have accepted above that because love requires persistence and emotions are not necessarily persistent love is not simply an emotion. There are two ways this impasse might be avoided. Firstly it might be argued that love is connected to someone’s will. It might then be further argued that someone’s will is simply a stable motivational structure independent of both reason and emotion. This I believe would be Frankfurt’s position. Adopting such a position seems to me to be unnecessary and makes the will an unexplainable entity. For this reason I believe the second way of avoiding this impasse is preferable, this way assumes love is not simply an emotion but that it is connected to the emotions in some way.
How can love be connected to the emotions? I have suggested that love might be seen as a persistent emotion, a disposition to have some emotion or a sentiment. In what follows I will consider having a sentiment as being the same as having a disposition to feel some emotion. Accepting the above raises two questions. Firstly what exactly is an emotion; are emotions purely physical sensations or are emotions in some way intentional? Secondly if love is a persistent emotion or a disposition to have an emotion what is the actual emotion involved? There is a continuing philosophical debate as to whether emotions contain a cognitive element or are purely physiological states. Philosophers such as Nussbaum and Solomon would argue emotions are intentional and as a result must have a cognitive element. Others such as Prinz, would argue emotions are simply physiological states (2007, The Emotional Construction of Morals, Oxford). People don’t just love randomly. It appears to follow love is intentional in some way. Prima facie it might then be suggested that any emotion underlying love must also be intentional. I believe this suggestion is doubtful. Clearly some emotions such as disgust are non intentional and are simply physiological states. It might then be pointed out not all emotions are the same and that some emotions may be intentional and include a cognitive element. However when assigning a cognitive element to an emotion we must be sure we should assign this element to the actual emotion rather than to the cause of the emotion. If for instance I eat too many strawberries this might cause me to have a stomach ache, a purely physiological state. Similarly if I am fearful, because I perceive a tiger approaching me, my perception is the cause of my fear. Moreover I see no reason why my fear must include the concept that tigers are dangerous. In light of the above I will assume there is no reason why all emotions, including persistent ones, should not be regarded as purely physiological states. It follows if love is intentional, as I believe it is, then I was wrong to argue with Law that love might be regarded as a persistent emotion. I now believe love might be better regarded as a disposition to feel some particular emotion. A disposition to feel a particular emotion partially causes this emotion. Further a disposition to feel an emotion may be based on certain beliefs and as a result this disposition might well contain a cognitive element even if the actual emotion does not.
If love is not an emotion, persistent or otherwise, but rather a disposition to feel a particular emotion then the question as to which of the emotions is involved must be addressed. I suggested above if a lover can act to protect or benefit his beloved and he fails to do so it might be questioned whether he is a genuine lover. Accepting the above means neither lust nor sympathy can be the emotion underlying love. The lustful feel no need to benefit the objects of their lust. Sympathy involves understanding the suffering of others. However it is possible to act sympathetically without addressing the desires of others, see Nichols. (2004, Sentimental Rules, Oxford, pages 38, 39). Hence a sympathetic person may be unable to truly benefit the object of his sympathy. An empathic person both understands and feels the desires of the object of his empathy. It follows an empathic person will act to protect or benefit the object of his empathy. For this reason I suggest love would be best defined as a disposition to feel empathy.
I now wish to address three problems associated with adopting this definition of love. Firstly it might be argued that by defining love as a disposition to feel empathy we fail to accommodate one of our intuitive ideas of personal love. Love it might be argued is often limited, personal and private whilst empathy appears to have a much larger writ. Empathy does however have the property that it diminishes with distance. This distance might involve physical distance, time or just degree of acquaintance. For instance I may feel some empathy for protestors being crushed in Iran but I felt far greater empathy for my wife when she was admitted to hospital. This property of distance seems to allow us to account for the intuitive idea of love as personal whilst at the same time accepting the definition of love as a disposition to feel empathy. For instance it makes sense to say we can love the residents of our home town in an impersonal way whilst at the same time loving our children in a personal way to a far greater degree.
Secondly it might be argued accepting the above definition means we cannot learn to love. Some recent research suggests that mirror neurones play a central part in our ability to feel empathy. If this is so then it might be argued the ability to feel empathy, to love, depends on the physical structure of our brains rather than our brain states. It seems likely we can alter our brain states by learning. However it seems unlikely we can alter the physical structure of our brains to any great degree by learning. I have used the word unlikely above because we can alter to some degree the physical structure of our body by exercise and training. Accepting the above means it is unlikely we can learn to love. Autism might be advanced as an additional reason why if the definition of love, as a disposition to feel empathy, is accepted we cannot learn to love. In using the example of autism I am not necessarily connecting autism to mirror neurones or arguing autistic children cannot feel some form of sympathy. I am however arguing those suffering from autism cannot feel true empathy for others. Some parents of autistic children might argue their children can feel love and as a result would reject this definition of love. I would merely note it is possible that these parents’ empathy for their children may project non-existent love onto them. It might be argued good parents want their children to learn to love but if this definition is accepted learning to love is impossible for the two reasons outlined above. My starting point in this posting was Frankfurt’s definition of love. Frankfurt himself argues love is not a matter of choice and this seems to support the above argument, see (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, page 135). However if the above definition of love is accepted does it really matter if we cannot learn to love? I would argue it does not. I would argue that under normal circumstances our natural capacity to love develops. I would further argue that in practice parents do not teach their children to love but rather that most parents create the circumstances in which their children’s natural capacity for love develops. I would further suggest that those parents who do not or are unable to create these circumstances should be helped to do so, see my posting of 30/03/09 concerning dissident IRA killers.
The third problem with defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is that the definition seems to be an inadequate definition. People don’t just love people. We can love cities, pieces of music and nature for instance. We are however unable to feel empathy for cities, pieces of music or nature. There seem to be two strategies for dealing with the inadequacy of this definition. Firstly it might be denied that we actually love these inanimate things. For instance can we actually love a city which has lost all its inhabitants forever? Perhaps when we love a city we do feel empathy but this is not empathy for a city devoid of its inhabitants but rather for these inhabitants. I find such a strategy unconvincing because it would be hard to apply to nature. Perhaps it might be better argued we feel empathy for life in general. However I still find this amended strategy unconvincing. Secondly it might be argued defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is an incomplete definition; the reason being that the concept of love is not a simple concept but rather a hybrid concept. The love of animate and inanimate objects is not the same. If this is accepted then defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is a definition limited to the love of animate objects.
Before discussing the nature of love it must be clear what is meant by love. I consider love to be ‘caring about something’ as defined by Frankfurt.
“A person who cares about something is, as it were invested in it. He identifies himself with what he cares about in the sense that he makes himself vulnerable to losses and susceptible to benefits depending upon whether what he cares about is diminished or enhanced” (1988, The Importance of What We Care About, Cambridge University Press, page 84).
The question I now wish to address is whether equating love with such ‘caring about’ is compatible with love being regarded as an emotion? Frankfurt would argue it is not,
“That a person cares about something or that he loves something has less to do with how things make him feel, or his opinions about them, than the more or less stable motivational structures that shape his preferences and guide his conduct” (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love. Cambridge University Press, page 129).
Why does Frankfurt believe love is not an emotion? Because he believes love must have some persistence and he also believes emotions do not have persistence. It seems clear that love cannot be turned off and on like a tap. It is also clear that emotions unlike love can quickly change. For this reason I accept love cannot be simply regarded as an emotion. Accepting the above of course does not mean love is unconnected to the emotions. Indeed I will now argue love must of necessity be connected to the emotions. I will argue love might be seen as a persistent emotion, a disposition to have an emotion or a sentiment.
If a lover identifies himself with what he cares about and makes himself vulnerable to the losses and susceptible to the benefits of love then love can be a motivation to act. Indeed if a lover can act to protect or benefit his beloved and fails to do so for no good reason it might be questioned whether he is a genuine lover. Love appears to be a matter of the will. Hume famously argued reason is the slave of the passions, the emotions in current parlance, and that reason alone gives us no motivation to act. It would appear to follow if we accept that reason alone gives us no reason to act and that love is a motivation for action then love must be an emotion. However I have accepted above that because love requires persistence and emotions are not necessarily persistent love is not simply an emotion. There are two ways this impasse might be avoided. Firstly it might be argued that love is connected to someone’s will. It might then be further argued that someone’s will is simply a stable motivational structure independent of both reason and emotion. This I believe would be Frankfurt’s position. Adopting such a position seems to me to be unnecessary and makes the will an unexplainable entity. For this reason I believe the second way of avoiding this impasse is preferable, this way assumes love is not simply an emotion but that it is connected to the emotions in some way.
How can love be connected to the emotions? I have suggested that love might be seen as a persistent emotion, a disposition to have some emotion or a sentiment. In what follows I will consider having a sentiment as being the same as having a disposition to feel some emotion. Accepting the above raises two questions. Firstly what exactly is an emotion; are emotions purely physical sensations or are emotions in some way intentional? Secondly if love is a persistent emotion or a disposition to have an emotion what is the actual emotion involved? There is a continuing philosophical debate as to whether emotions contain a cognitive element or are purely physiological states. Philosophers such as Nussbaum and Solomon would argue emotions are intentional and as a result must have a cognitive element. Others such as Prinz, would argue emotions are simply physiological states (2007, The Emotional Construction of Morals, Oxford). People don’t just love randomly. It appears to follow love is intentional in some way. Prima facie it might then be suggested that any emotion underlying love must also be intentional. I believe this suggestion is doubtful. Clearly some emotions such as disgust are non intentional and are simply physiological states. It might then be pointed out not all emotions are the same and that some emotions may be intentional and include a cognitive element. However when assigning a cognitive element to an emotion we must be sure we should assign this element to the actual emotion rather than to the cause of the emotion. If for instance I eat too many strawberries this might cause me to have a stomach ache, a purely physiological state. Similarly if I am fearful, because I perceive a tiger approaching me, my perception is the cause of my fear. Moreover I see no reason why my fear must include the concept that tigers are dangerous. In light of the above I will assume there is no reason why all emotions, including persistent ones, should not be regarded as purely physiological states. It follows if love is intentional, as I believe it is, then I was wrong to argue with Law that love might be regarded as a persistent emotion. I now believe love might be better regarded as a disposition to feel some particular emotion. A disposition to feel a particular emotion partially causes this emotion. Further a disposition to feel an emotion may be based on certain beliefs and as a result this disposition might well contain a cognitive element even if the actual emotion does not.
If love is not an emotion, persistent or otherwise, but rather a disposition to feel a particular emotion then the question as to which of the emotions is involved must be addressed. I suggested above if a lover can act to protect or benefit his beloved and he fails to do so it might be questioned whether he is a genuine lover. Accepting the above means neither lust nor sympathy can be the emotion underlying love. The lustful feel no need to benefit the objects of their lust. Sympathy involves understanding the suffering of others. However it is possible to act sympathetically without addressing the desires of others, see Nichols. (2004, Sentimental Rules, Oxford, pages 38, 39). Hence a sympathetic person may be unable to truly benefit the object of his sympathy. An empathic person both understands and feels the desires of the object of his empathy. It follows an empathic person will act to protect or benefit the object of his empathy. For this reason I suggest love would be best defined as a disposition to feel empathy.
I now wish to address three problems associated with adopting this definition of love. Firstly it might be argued that by defining love as a disposition to feel empathy we fail to accommodate one of our intuitive ideas of personal love. Love it might be argued is often limited, personal and private whilst empathy appears to have a much larger writ. Empathy does however have the property that it diminishes with distance. This distance might involve physical distance, time or just degree of acquaintance. For instance I may feel some empathy for protestors being crushed in Iran but I felt far greater empathy for my wife when she was admitted to hospital. This property of distance seems to allow us to account for the intuitive idea of love as personal whilst at the same time accepting the definition of love as a disposition to feel empathy. For instance it makes sense to say we can love the residents of our home town in an impersonal way whilst at the same time loving our children in a personal way to a far greater degree.
Secondly it might be argued accepting the above definition means we cannot learn to love. Some recent research suggests that mirror neurones play a central part in our ability to feel empathy. If this is so then it might be argued the ability to feel empathy, to love, depends on the physical structure of our brains rather than our brain states. It seems likely we can alter our brain states by learning. However it seems unlikely we can alter the physical structure of our brains to any great degree by learning. I have used the word unlikely above because we can alter to some degree the physical structure of our body by exercise and training. Accepting the above means it is unlikely we can learn to love. Autism might be advanced as an additional reason why if the definition of love, as a disposition to feel empathy, is accepted we cannot learn to love. In using the example of autism I am not necessarily connecting autism to mirror neurones or arguing autistic children cannot feel some form of sympathy. I am however arguing those suffering from autism cannot feel true empathy for others. Some parents of autistic children might argue their children can feel love and as a result would reject this definition of love. I would merely note it is possible that these parents’ empathy for their children may project non-existent love onto them. It might be argued good parents want their children to learn to love but if this definition is accepted learning to love is impossible for the two reasons outlined above. My starting point in this posting was Frankfurt’s definition of love. Frankfurt himself argues love is not a matter of choice and this seems to support the above argument, see (1999, Necessity, Volition, and Love, page 135). However if the above definition of love is accepted does it really matter if we cannot learn to love? I would argue it does not. I would argue that under normal circumstances our natural capacity to love develops. I would further argue that in practice parents do not teach their children to love but rather that most parents create the circumstances in which their children’s natural capacity for love develops. I would further suggest that those parents who do not or are unable to create these circumstances should be helped to do so, see my posting of 30/03/09 concerning dissident IRA killers.
The third problem with defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is that the definition seems to be an inadequate definition. People don’t just love people. We can love cities, pieces of music and nature for instance. We are however unable to feel empathy for cities, pieces of music or nature. There seem to be two strategies for dealing with the inadequacy of this definition. Firstly it might be denied that we actually love these inanimate things. For instance can we actually love a city which has lost all its inhabitants forever? Perhaps when we love a city we do feel empathy but this is not empathy for a city devoid of its inhabitants but rather for these inhabitants. I find such a strategy unconvincing because it would be hard to apply to nature. Perhaps it might be better argued we feel empathy for life in general. However I still find this amended strategy unconvincing. Secondly it might be argued defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is an incomplete definition; the reason being that the concept of love is not a simple concept but rather a hybrid concept. The love of animate and inanimate objects is not the same. If this is accepted then defining love as a disposition to feel empathy is a definition limited to the love of animate objects.
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