Saturday, April 14, 2012

Final paper for PHIL 2050

It might not make a lot of sense unless you've read Rousseau's "A Discourse on Inequality," but here it is anyway.

In his essay “A Discourse on Inequality,” Jean-Jacques Rousseau claims that inequality in modern society is not attributable to humanity’s natural state, but rather was brought about by the advent of modern society itself. By “modern society” Rousseau means several things: the notion of private property, the agricultural revolution, socio-economic relationships, commerce, and civic government. All these, Rousseau argues, are ultimately responsible for inequality among humankind. I argue that though in some ways social, economic, and political relationships have undoubtedly cast an interconnecting web between us all, making us dependent on one another and thus engaged in an unsigned, unwritten contract, these relationships actually bestow upon us more freedom, meaning, and potential than we could ever have had in the state of nature.

I first address Rousseau’s views on the state of nature, showing that his perception of it is flawed and his coverage of it selective. I show that social institutions are not the origin of inequality, but rather an amplifier of human nature, which there is good reason to think is the actual origin of inequality. After establishing this, I argue against his apparent preference for that primitive society, showing that civilization is the more desirable social state.

Rousseau builds the foundation of his argument on his theory of the state of nature. He sees it as a rather peaceful, idyllic time, where individuals lived freely and independently. In their original, primitive state, Rousseau argues that humans had no concept of private property, and lived without violence or slavery or coercion of any kind. They relied on their own wits, their own abilities, and needed nobody else. There were no social institutions to raise one to a higher rank than another, and, according to Rousseau, any potential violence was checked by pity, which “[took] the place of laws, morals, and virtues” (101). With these observations and assumptions, Rousseau claims that he has “proved that inequality is hardly perceived in the state of nature, and that its influence there is almost nil” (106).

However, this is hardly a comprehensive look at the way nature works. Though there is no method by which to fully prove the case, it is possible to obtain an accurate picture of the original state of nature by looking at how nature works today. We can safely assume that the biological goals of animals have not drastically changed over the last several thousand years. In today’s time and primitive times alike, the ends animals seek are the same: survive as long as possible so as to reproduce as much as possible. From this fact it is reasonable to suppose that such was the basic goal of the primitive person, making it also reasonable to look to nature today for what the state of nature was yesterday.

Rousseau bases much of his argument on his impression that there was no such thing as private property in the state of nature. Just a cursory examination of nature shows evidence of private property in the forms of mates, territory, and food. Animals fight against each other for rights to these things; the reason some male animals have horns or antlers is purely to clash with competitors for a desirable female with which to mate. In addition to mating, many animals have territorial instincts. Like a human proclaiming a plot of land to be his, a bear may claim a cave, and a tiger may claim an area of the jungle wherein no other tigers can hunt without incurring its wrath. And if a small, weak wolf finds a large amount of food, another wolf who is bigger and tougher, and driven by instinct, may very well desire that food for itself, and take it away from the smaller wolf without feeling an ounce of pity. Whoever gets more of these resources in nature is the winner. Humans in their state of nature would likely act in much the same way, should they be desperate enough.

Rousseau describes the basic idea of competition as “a devouring ambition, the burning passion to enlarge one’s relative fortune, not so much from real need as to put oneself ahead of others,” and this “inspires in all men a dark propensity to injure one another” so as to prove the mightiest and most worthy. “All these evils,” Rousseau concludes, “are the main effects of property” (119). While I agree that private property and competition are closely linked, both predate modern society and thus did not originate with said modern society. As has also been mentioned, males compete for the affections of the female, various species compete for food, and herbivores compete with the carnivores for their very survival. Competition drives the state of nature, just as it drives our economy today. There is no reason to think primitive human beings were any different. Thus, private property, competition, and inequality have always existed in the world.

Rousseau thinks differently, however; he claims that the state of nature broke and modern society began with a simple agreement between two people. This established a relationship, which evolved into a “mutual dependence,” which ultimately spawned the “bonds of servitude” (106). According to Rousseau, humankind is a slave in modern society, for “if [one] is rich [one] needs [the poor’s] services; if [one] is poor [one] needs [the rich’s] aid; and even a middling condition does not enable [one] to do without them” (119). In other words, everybody needs everybody else, and eventually one person will be more valuable than another. This process, Rousseau argues, is the origin of inequality.

Unfortunately for his argument, inequality has existed in nature before recorded history, including in primitive humanity, for it is the prime characteristic of nature, and how life, including human life, perpetuates itself in the chain of evolution. This is not to say that the presence of inequality is a good thing, nor that there are serious problems over inequality in modern society. There certainly are, but their origins are not, as Rousseau claims, necessarily in the social institutions themselves. Rather, the social institutions changed or magnified the context for a given inequality, but not the inequality itself. Much of institutional inequality exists because of the innate inequality in species interaction itself; institutions are not inherently sources of inequality.
In fact, I argue that the situation is just the opposite: institutions arose as a way of humanity’s attempting to correct for the fact of inequality. I concede that civilization began with an agreement between two people, but never with even the subconscious attempt to put one human being above another. Instead, I argue that it was, to use a term Rousseau acknowledges the potential validity of, a “union for the weak” (123), forged to protect against possible predators, thieves or others who would inflict violence or harm. While this may place one human being, or one group of human beings, above another, it does so for the purposes of moral justice and self-preservation, not enslavement and servitude.

Institutions can make both positive and negative effects on people, depending on how the individual in a given authoritative position chooses to use his or her power. That benevolent or malevolent will could easily be found in primitive society, just as Rousseau finds it in civilized society. (In fact, it must have been found in primitive times, for civilization did, in fact, emerge.) It is a universal principle that can be seen in every social development or technological achievement, that some will use new capabilities to produce positive changes in the world, and some to produce negative ones. It is simply human nature, no matter where it is applied.

The second prong of Rousseau’s overall argument is his startling preference for the state of nature over organized society, though of course it is impossible to turn back the clock. Rousseau believes that the obligations in modern society have the effect of binding us down, that citizens of such a society are “enslaved” (125) and in “chains” (126); whereas in the state of nature we only had to take care of ourselves, and we answered to no one. We were at liberty to go wherever and do whatever we wished; in nature we were free, independent.

Contra Rousseau, I argue that living solely by instinct could be considered slavery itself. The laws of natural selection dictate, through instincts, how an animal is to act. Rousseau sees it similarly: “Nature commands all animals, and the beast obeys” (88). Then he elaborates further, observing that humankind “receives the same impulsion, but...recognizes himself [or herself] as being free to acquiesce or resist” (88). This notion that human beings can choose to act for themselves or give in to animal instinct is an important point, but he fails to apply it to his own argument. He argues elsewhere that instinct, in the state of nature, is superior to reason, that “in instinct alone man had all he needed for living in a state of nature” (97), that instinct, not reason, ensured the survival of the individual and the entire species. Then he further points out that “the human race would long since have ceased to exist if its preservation had depended only on the reasoning of the individuals who compose it” (101-102). He may be right if that’s what we only depended on, but it’s clear that a combination of instinct and reason are what has led to the flourishing of the human species today.

The state of nature he describes is, in fact, this very behavior of acquiescing to instinct, living alone, wandering the land looking only for that which would help one survive. And to organize a civilized state of society, with laws and agreements and charitable relationships, to use reason rather than instinct, is to resist those instincts. It is precisely because human beings can resist instinct and instead use reason that they do not belong in the state of nature. In nature there is no higher law than natural selection, whereas in modern society we live by laws of fairness and justice and mercy, traits not regularly found in the state of nature. We submit ourselves to these laws, which Rousseau decries as emblems of institutional inequality, and perhaps fairly so. We are, after all, not granted a choice when we are born to either live in civilization or the state of nature; we are inherently forced to live by the rules of society else we be punished. But in simple submission to these basic and very fair laws, we are granted the liberty to pursue our own happiness and fulfillment within the boundaries set. So while yes, some freedoms are lost in modern society, so many more are gained.

The modern way of life, the society that Rousseau so condemns for its inequality also produces achievements that never could have come to pass in the state of nature. That humans create art, literature, and music is an essential part of what divides us from nature’s animals, and if all were in the state of nature, no one would produce them, let alone imagine them. All inhabitants of such a state would be forced to focus on nothing but their own survival and mating opportunities.

Modern society allows for a superior freedom because it is driven by specialization, which means that every person can contribute to the whole of society in their own unique way, to pursue happiness without having to worry as much about those bare necessities as they would in a primitive state. The only boundary of this economic dynamic is that whatever we choose to do must have some kind of merit or be of worth to the rest of society. Given the huge array of vocations in our culture, this is not a terribly difficult thing to accomplish. One can contribute to society in almost any way imaginable, and in so doing, can choose to fulfill one’s dreams and benefit others at the same time. Thus there is more freedom in civilization than in nature.

In further critiquing Rousseau’s preference for primitive society, I will now show its lack of inherent meaning. In nature, life exists only to beget more life; human beings need more than they can find in the state of nature. Human beings have powers of reason, and can see that such a life as is found in the state of nature is fruitless. In that world, things surely happen, but nothing truly changes. From generation to generation, it merely exists to perpetuate itself as it is. There is no one to love or be loved by, no one to care for or share life with. There is no arc, no lesson, and no purpose to it all. Simply put, in Rousseau’s world there is no truth, no beauty, no love; it all simply just is. And there is no human contentment in such an isolated world.

Meaning or purpose is strongly connected in our human minds to personal potential, and working to fulfill that potential, to progress and become better as individuals and as a society. This potential is often pursued in the creative arts and fields of scientific discovery. We find meaning in what we can create as well as coming to understand more of how the world works. Pursuing these fulfills the drive we have to grow, to learn, to develop. Even the impoverished, who generally have their survival more on the mind than others in higher socioeconomic classes, love books, music, film, and art, all of which, Rousseau admits, would not exist in a Rousseauian world. “Every art would perish with the inventor” (104), he says, and in the state of nature there was “neither education nor progress; the generations multiplied uselessly, and as each began afresh from the same starting-point, centuries rolled on as underdeveloped as the first ages; the species was already old, and [humankind] remained eternally a child” (105). Without change, without growth, without progress, life ceases to mean anything.

At this point Rousseau claims that in this state we would be without need of language, and actually argues for that as the better society: “There, where there is no love, what would be the use of beauty? What is intelligence to people who do not speak, or cunning to those who have no commerce with others?” (105). To Rousseau, intelligence, beauty, and love would be unnecessary as long as we lived alone, independent, and equal; there would be no use for reason, enlightenment, beauty, art, if there were no need to communicate. He asserts that this would all be unnecessary in the state of nature, that humankind wouldn’t need to advance, wouldn’t need to improve, wouldn’t need to develop beyond their primitive state. All they would need is “the cry of nature” (93), and nothing else. But really, no member of this society would ever fulfill their potential for great things because there would be no need for it. We would all be the same: equal, yes, but at the lowest, most unfulfilling status there is, a status that human reason cannot justify. The Rousseauian world is grim, indeed.

Rousseau argued that the inequalities found in modern society are caused by the creation of modern society itself. I have addressed this by showing that though some inequality comes from social institutions, the origins are far more mixed than that, and more likely are simply aspects of human nature that already existed in primitive society. I have shown that social institutions might actually be more likely to grant us equality and fairness than take it away. Rousseau has shown his preference for the state of nature, and I have shown that civilized society is far more desirable, that in civilization we have the time, energy, and resources to pursue the life we choose, one that is not focused solely on our own survival. I have concluded that in modern society we can choose who we want to be and find meaning and purpose in our individual lives, and thus fulfill our unlimited potential that would otherwise be quite limited in Rousseau’s state of nature.

Monday, April 2, 2012

new story!

The Price of One’s Soul

He hemmed and hawed, debating what he should do.

He had found the envelope in the gutter right next to that old bus stop in front of the park. As it happened, he was late for the bus and had seen it driving away as he rounded the street corner. In a scene right out of a movie he sprinted after it, and had even gotten close enough to spit on it, but the yellow traffic boat did not yield to the will of his expectoration potential.

Frustration seizing him, he closed his eyes and breathed out a tired, weary old sigh. His shoulders slumped, putting his face at just the right angle to see what lay in the gutter a few feet away: an envelope full to bursting with…something.

He knew what it was before even picking it up. He wasn’t sure why he knew, but felt sure it had something to do with the fact that he had just missed his bus. Fate, the gods, literature, what have you, all told him that this envelope would have money in it. A lot of money.

Apparently five-hundred dollars, in twenties. Not a huge amount, but coincidentally exactly what he owed in rent, and exactly what he had been going to earn by getting on that bus.

Of course.

He had always been an honest man, and upon picking it up and sifting through the bills, his feet propelled him automatically in the direction where his goodness could be fulfilled: the police station, just a few blocks over. But with each step, uncertainty over his initial decision grew, and the temptations began their assault.

His mind went over all the possible things this money could do for him. With rent out of the way, he could pay off some of his credit card debt and put the rest in savings…responsible, boring things that only mature adults would think to do. But wouldn’t a mature adult also know it was best to be honest and be a respectable, honorable citizen?

If he were young and foolish, this situation would not be a dilemma, but a glorious opportunity to obtain five-hundred dollars’ worth of fluff and nonsense. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Now he was thinking dozens of times.

What if this money was a reward from heaven? A tender mercy from God, a blessing meant for him? As opposed to a test of his moral fiber, which it very well could be. Well, perhaps if he passed the test, he WOULD get a heavenly reward. Maybe at the police station they’d just let him keep it…or maybe there was something else, something even better around the corner if he did the right thing in this moment.

The police station was in sight, just another block down, and this is when his mind began to consider his situation should he turn in the money. Visions of despair, of being evicted, of losing access to his kids seeped into his brain, clouding it like disturbed silt at the bottom of a lake. It was as if the money itself was tempting him, wanting a new master, a parasite in need of a host.

He got as far as a few feet into the police station before he stopped, clutching the envelope in one hand, nervously fidgeting. He didn’t realize how conspicuous he looked, the only person in the lobby, lost in the contours of his own moral mind as he rocked back and forth, starting to move, then stopping, jerking his head, hesitating, practically forgetting to breathe.

The clerk at the desk had been watching him since he entered the station. It was an amusing sight, and she smiled. She had a pretty good idea of what was going on. She’d seen envelopes like that many times, and she knew how to handle them.

“Can I help you, sir?” she said to him eventually.

This had the effect of making his situation public, and people are always more honest when out in the open and where others can see. As it turned out, this is exactly what the man needed to make those last few steps up to the desk.

“I found this money in the gutter over by the bus stop by the park a few blocks down,” he said, breathing and grateful that someone had helped him make the right decision. “On 12th Street.”

“Well, we appreciate your honesty,” the clerk said with a smile.

For a second the man thought, hoped that after thanking him they’d renege and say he had earned the contents of the envelope by being so honest. But—

“We’ll do our best to make sure this goes back to the owner,” said the clerk, still smiling.

The man, though disappointed, was grateful even so that the ordeal was over, and he had made the right decision. The pressure was off him, and on his way out he walked with a much lighter step. Now to go out there and find his fortune anew.

My soul isn’t worth five-hundred dollars, he thought proudly to himself as he left.

The clerk, meanwhile, right after the door had swung shut, glanced quickly around, withdrew the money from the envelope, and stuffed the bills into her pocket. The envelope went right into the waste bin beneath the desk.

And the world continued to spin as if nothing had changed at all.