AN ESSAY
What are nations? What are states? Are they the same thing? If you listen to mass media in the United States, you might think they are. Politicians talk about the "American Nation." Colloquially, we hear terms like "all over the Nation" and "nationwide." Somehow, we have equated the word "Nation" with "country" or "state." But the word "Nation" exists for a reason: It has its own meaning. And upon closer inspection, we see that the United States really may not be a "Nation" at all.
Nations are not political entities. Nations are human populations that share common ethnic, religious and linguistic traditions and values. States are political entities. It makes sense to create a State from a Nation, but it is not necessary. In that sense, States are artificial while Nations are genetic. People in a Nation intuitively understand one another because they all speak the same language, look basically the same and represent the same cultural traditions. By contrast, there is no need for people in a State to understand one another. Several Nations can agree to live under the same State. States simply administer the law and keep order. But Nations exist regardless of the State that rules them.
States are artificial because they depend on artificial members: Citizens. The word "citizen" is a technical term. It has a specific definition by law. True, the definition varies depending on the State that creates it. But it is still a legal conclusion, not a genetic fact.
Aristotle defined "citizen" in The Politics. He said that "citizens" are people who are qualified to participate in government and to hold office. The Politics, Book III ch. i § 1275a22. "Participating in government," in turn, means "deliberating or judging" on all matters relevant under the Constitution. Id. at § 1275b13. And only States create Constitutions. Aristotle continued this reasoning by concluding that "a number of [citizens] large enough to secure a self-sufficient life we may, by and large, call a state." Id. He then posited that states only exist to the extent that citizens associate with each other under a particular Constitution. The Politics, Book III ch. iii § 1276a34. By this reasoning, states are technical: They exist only to the extent that citizens continue to recognize a particular Constitution. When they no longer agree to abide by the Constitution, the state ceases to exist. Id.
What is so significant about these definitions? They are significant because they say nothing about nations. According to Aristotle, a State exists only as a matter of law; it does not require national identity. States are technical fictions created by people who want to secure a better life. To achieve that goal, they create a Constitution that delineates government power and the rights of citizens. Citizens take their identity in the State from the Constitution, not from their national origins. As a legal matter, nations are irrelevant to the State. Strictly viewed, states are not nations, and nations are not states.
But that is just the legal view. Reality exists quite apart from law, and reality shows that national identity greatly influences state power. States function more effectively when their citizens all come from the same national background. States are more cohesive when all their citizens speak the same language, represent the same cultural traditions and live by the same basic values. When States create Constitutions to reflect shared national values, they simplify the business of government. No matter what anyone says, it is much easier to govern a relatively homogeneous population in which everyone views life in a similar way.
Perhaps it sounds archaic--or even racist--to suggest that States function best when they comprise a single Nation. After all, popular American rhetoric holds that America's strength flows from its diversity. According to that rhetoric, anyone can be an American "citizen" no matter what "nation" they represent. As long as they "participate in government and hold office" under the Constitution, they are "citizens," even if one comes from Iraq and the other from Holland. In other words, the United States--at least on paper--takes pride in the fact that its "State" represents every "Nation" on earth.
That may be so. But it is inaccurate to call the United States a "nation." Our Constitution certainly makes the United States a "state." Everyone within the territorial jurisdiction of the United States abides by technical laws passed in compliance with a Constitution that every citizen theoretically supports. Every "citizen" under that Constitution may "participate in government or hold office." That suffices to call the United States a "state." But it does not suffice to call it a "nation."
Our American republic is unique among world States because it has virtually no national identity. Our citizens represent every possible cultural, religious, linguistic and racial group. Culture, religion, language and race all influence the values that people hold dear in their lives. As such, the United States is at war with itself; its citizens hold every conceivable value and they frequently clash. There is no simple cultural unity. While every "nation" in the United States might contribute to the state's overall strength, they certainly do not contribute to a united American culture. American culture exists only as far as a particular "nation" within the United States observes it. As such, it is confusing discuss "American identity." To really understand "American identity," it is insufficient to examine whether a person is a citizen. Rather, one must look further into the person's national identity to figure out who he is. And in a state that comprises a thousand nations, that is a hard task.
Despite America's uncertain national character, there are other ways by which to measure cohesion between American "citizens." There are other ways to assess whether people come from the same "nation." Indeed, Americans from every cultural tradition have created "pseudo-nations" that link them in ways that language, race or ethnicity cannot. For example, millions of Americans love football. That makes them part of a "football nation" with a common culture and language. Millions more love television shows. That makes them part of a "television" nation with shared values and traditions. These might be weak replacements for true national identity. But Americans make do in whatever ways they can.
People yearn for national identity. States that encompass a single Nation generally radiate that identity without trying too hard. But the United States is a problematic case. Americans yearn to be "American" without really understanding that there is no "American nation." To fulfill that longing, they rally around things they all like, especially commerce.
Americans are notoriously commercial. They turn to commerce for meaning in life more than many other people in the world. I argue that this is due in part to the fact that they long for something to define them as a national group. If Americans can't all belong to a single value system or cultural heritage, they at least can all represent a worldview based exclusively on commercial success.
For better or worse, this "replacement identity" has stuck: Most people in the world associate Americans with business success, enterprise and "do-it-yourself" entrepreneurship. That is America's "national identity." If the United States cannot be a "nation" in traditional sense, it can simply rewrite the rules to suit its situation.
Commerce is America's national identity. We are a "money nation." We don't all speak the same language or have the same hair color. We don't all worship the same God or observe the same holidays. But money unites us: The maniacal, ruthless, insistent, all-consuming urge to amass cash. German-Americans do it. Irish-Americans do it. Chinese-Americans do it. Russian-Americans do it. Sengalese-Americans do it. Mexican-Americans do it.
That is our Nation. That is our culture. That is our language. That is our common ground.
One Nation, under cash, with liberty and justice for all.
Showing posts with label The Politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Politics. Show all posts
Friday, January 29, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
IS AMBITION A BAD WORD?
AN ESSAY
I am ambivalent about ambition. In America, people generally think that ambition is a good thing. It reflects the urge to "do better" and to "get ahead" in society, or in any competitive endeavor. It only makes sense that "ambition" finds a cozy home in America. After all, this country perpetuates a myth that "anyone" can succeed here as long as they work hard and persevere through difficulty. Ambition is all they need to force their way to the top.
Or, at least, that's what the myth says. In my experience, I have learned that success in America is not so simple. Many things can go wrong. Ambition alone will not deliver success. Some people are born into the wrong families. Some suffer accidents and mishaps. Others just lose interest. Often, it's not their fault that they fail. Chance and timing have a tremendous influence on success. Ambition alone does not cut it.
Despite this, American mythology extols ambition. In most cases, Americans favorably use the word: "He is so focused and ambitious; he will be successful." Even those who already have achieved success say to others: "I was ambitious. I made it. You can, too." At funerals, eulogists sing hymns to ambition: "As a young man, he was so ambitious. He succeeded and he provided for his family." And some even equate ambition with progress. Abraham Lincoln alluded to ambition when he suggested awarding royalties to patent-seekers: "Patents add the fuel of interest to the fire of genius." Second Lecture on Discoveries and Inventions (1859).
If ambition is so great, why am I ambivalent about it? I'm ambivalent about it because there is a very dark side to ambition that reflects fundamental problems in our society's values. Lincoln's quote provides a good introduction. He uses a "fire" analogy to describe ambition-fueled "genius." Ambition is like a flame that consumes the individual, driving him toward a coveted goal. The goal might not be praiseworthy at all, but the ambitious man will burn until he fulfills it. Ambition is consumptive. It overwhelms the individual. It makes him ruthless, unscrupulous and uncompromising. In short, it possesses him.
But consumptiveness is not the only thing that makes ambition problematic. It is also problematic because it has an exclusively external focus. Grammatically, ambition requires an object. In almost every case, that object is external "success." People are ambitious for fame, wealth, advancement, recognition, praise, influence and power. They want to be seen by others in a particular way, or they want to possess things that give them authority over others. To achieve these things, they must focus their energy outwardly. They need not look within themselves for strength or meaning. They do not even need to be true to themselves. No, their fulfillment comes from external success--and the tangible rewards it brings.
Ambition is about recognition. It is about the audience. After all, only the audience can decide whether to recognize the performer. And only the audience can give the coveted ovation.
Ambition bothers me because I believe that external success frustrates individual virtue. To win recognition, you need to play by others' rules. You even need to be unscrupulous. A truly ambitious person "stops at nothing" to achieve his goal. That makes it difficult for him to adhere to principles that would constrain his actions. Honor requires a person to think as much about how he achieves a goal as the goal itself. But ambition drives a person to disregard everything as long as he achieves the goal. In this sense, ambition and honor exclude each other. Virtue is honor. That is why ambition frustrates individual virtue.
Aristotle supports my position on this point. While analyzing the Spartan Constitution in The Politics, Aristotle strongly criticizes Sparta's legislative body--the Board of Elders--because election to the Board required ambition. See The Politics, Book II, ch. ix ¶1271a9. He writes: "[I]t is all wrong that a person who is going to be deemed worthy of the office should himself solicit it. Whether he wants it or not, the man to hold office is the man who is fit for it." Id. In other words, Aristotle found a flaw in Sparta's decision to entrust politicians with a choice whether to run for office, because only ambitious people would ever make that choice. For Aristotle, personal virtue was much more important than personal ambition. Only personal virtue makes a man "fit" for office--or any other honor in life.
This may seem unreasonable to a modern American reader. After all, we learn that ambitious people are the ones who make all the money and win all the success. To the American mind, it is only natural that the most ambitious man would nominate himself to hold political office. In America, personal virtue is irrelevant next to ambition. Personal virtue does not amass fortunes or start businesses; ambition does. In a strange transmutation, ambition became virtue in America. Ambition makes a man "fit," not adherence to metaphysical principles. The fact that only "really successful" people win high office reveals how strongly commerce has infiltrated American culture. Commerce has drowned all personal virtue. And it has supplanted honor with ambition as the most essential social characteristic.
In commercial America, people want power. It takes money to get power. And it takes ruthless ambition to make money in our brutally competitive free market system. In this environment, honor does not stand a chance. Ambition is the only thing that can steel men enough to survive it.
This is not a good development. When ambition overtakes honor in society, we can expect bad things. Aristotle warned about ambition in strong terms: "Yet the truth is that men's ambition and their desire to make money are among the most frequent causes of deliberate acts of injustice." The Politics, Book II ch. ix ¶1271a9.
Aristotle knew what he was talking about. He correctly equated ambition with "deliberate acts of injustice" because ambition necessarily overshadows honor. Honor imposes limits on the means by which people achieve goals. Ambition lifts those limits. When men no longer observe honor in dealing with others, they gladly commit injustice. Their burning desire to make money overwhelms all other considerations; results are everything. They are not afraid to bend rules, dissemble, exploit and cut corners to achieve the results they seek.
By contrast, an honorable man would refuse to do these things. He would insist on "justice." But in commerce, this places an honorable man at a material disadvantage; an honorable man will always lose to an ambitious one. An ambitious man does not tie his hands with "ethics;" he is not even afraid to fight dirty when he must. In the end, the ambitious man achieves the goal, wins the power and ultimately takes high office. When ambition leads to such tangible rewards, who wouldn't want to be ambitious?
Probably not many. Nonetheless, I venture that honor offers its own rewards. Success can be measured in ways beyond salaries and fame. Some success is purely internal. Some success flows from personal excellence and adherence to personal standards. Put differently, it can be rewarding to be ethical. Although ethics may impede ambition and external success, it leads to virtue. It may be an antiquated sentiment to say that success means being honorable. But I really think it does.
External success is overrated. I leave it to the ambitious to chase external recognition and rewards. For my part, I am content to live according to my own heart and my own principles. I strive to do wrong to no one, not to make a certain salary. I strive to help those who need it, not to win praises from a supervisor. I burn to express my own personality, not to tailor my speech for a money prize. Call me old-fashioned--or even antiquated--but honor is very important to me.
But I can't be ambitious for honor. True honor exists without a need for external recognition or reward. Honor does not bestow career advancement, at least not consciously. No, ambition only works for those who crave external rewards. By contrast, honor is an internal reward. It is inwardly fulfilling. As such, ambition will not help you find honor--or "achieve" it. In fact, while it may be an achievement to live with honor, there's no trophy or plaque to commemorate the day you became honorable.
That's what an ambitious person will never understand.
I am ambivalent about ambition. In America, people generally think that ambition is a good thing. It reflects the urge to "do better" and to "get ahead" in society, or in any competitive endeavor. It only makes sense that "ambition" finds a cozy home in America. After all, this country perpetuates a myth that "anyone" can succeed here as long as they work hard and persevere through difficulty. Ambition is all they need to force their way to the top.
Or, at least, that's what the myth says. In my experience, I have learned that success in America is not so simple. Many things can go wrong. Ambition alone will not deliver success. Some people are born into the wrong families. Some suffer accidents and mishaps. Others just lose interest. Often, it's not their fault that they fail. Chance and timing have a tremendous influence on success. Ambition alone does not cut it.
Despite this, American mythology extols ambition. In most cases, Americans favorably use the word: "He is so focused and ambitious; he will be successful." Even those who already have achieved success say to others: "I was ambitious. I made it. You can, too." At funerals, eulogists sing hymns to ambition: "As a young man, he was so ambitious. He succeeded and he provided for his family." And some even equate ambition with progress. Abraham Lincoln alluded to ambition when he suggested awarding royalties to patent-seekers: "Patents add the fuel of interest to the fire of genius." Second Lecture on Discoveries and Inventions (1859).
If ambition is so great, why am I ambivalent about it? I'm ambivalent about it because there is a very dark side to ambition that reflects fundamental problems in our society's values. Lincoln's quote provides a good introduction. He uses a "fire" analogy to describe ambition-fueled "genius." Ambition is like a flame that consumes the individual, driving him toward a coveted goal. The goal might not be praiseworthy at all, but the ambitious man will burn until he fulfills it. Ambition is consumptive. It overwhelms the individual. It makes him ruthless, unscrupulous and uncompromising. In short, it possesses him.
But consumptiveness is not the only thing that makes ambition problematic. It is also problematic because it has an exclusively external focus. Grammatically, ambition requires an object. In almost every case, that object is external "success." People are ambitious for fame, wealth, advancement, recognition, praise, influence and power. They want to be seen by others in a particular way, or they want to possess things that give them authority over others. To achieve these things, they must focus their energy outwardly. They need not look within themselves for strength or meaning. They do not even need to be true to themselves. No, their fulfillment comes from external success--and the tangible rewards it brings.
Ambition is about recognition. It is about the audience. After all, only the audience can decide whether to recognize the performer. And only the audience can give the coveted ovation.
Ambition bothers me because I believe that external success frustrates individual virtue. To win recognition, you need to play by others' rules. You even need to be unscrupulous. A truly ambitious person "stops at nothing" to achieve his goal. That makes it difficult for him to adhere to principles that would constrain his actions. Honor requires a person to think as much about how he achieves a goal as the goal itself. But ambition drives a person to disregard everything as long as he achieves the goal. In this sense, ambition and honor exclude each other. Virtue is honor. That is why ambition frustrates individual virtue.
Aristotle supports my position on this point. While analyzing the Spartan Constitution in The Politics, Aristotle strongly criticizes Sparta's legislative body--the Board of Elders--because election to the Board required ambition. See The Politics, Book II, ch. ix ¶1271a9. He writes: "[I]t is all wrong that a person who is going to be deemed worthy of the office should himself solicit it. Whether he wants it or not, the man to hold office is the man who is fit for it." Id. In other words, Aristotle found a flaw in Sparta's decision to entrust politicians with a choice whether to run for office, because only ambitious people would ever make that choice. For Aristotle, personal virtue was much more important than personal ambition. Only personal virtue makes a man "fit" for office--or any other honor in life.
This may seem unreasonable to a modern American reader. After all, we learn that ambitious people are the ones who make all the money and win all the success. To the American mind, it is only natural that the most ambitious man would nominate himself to hold political office. In America, personal virtue is irrelevant next to ambition. Personal virtue does not amass fortunes or start businesses; ambition does. In a strange transmutation, ambition became virtue in America. Ambition makes a man "fit," not adherence to metaphysical principles. The fact that only "really successful" people win high office reveals how strongly commerce has infiltrated American culture. Commerce has drowned all personal virtue. And it has supplanted honor with ambition as the most essential social characteristic.
In commercial America, people want power. It takes money to get power. And it takes ruthless ambition to make money in our brutally competitive free market system. In this environment, honor does not stand a chance. Ambition is the only thing that can steel men enough to survive it.
This is not a good development. When ambition overtakes honor in society, we can expect bad things. Aristotle warned about ambition in strong terms: "Yet the truth is that men's ambition and their desire to make money are among the most frequent causes of deliberate acts of injustice." The Politics, Book II ch. ix ¶1271a9.
Aristotle knew what he was talking about. He correctly equated ambition with "deliberate acts of injustice" because ambition necessarily overshadows honor. Honor imposes limits on the means by which people achieve goals. Ambition lifts those limits. When men no longer observe honor in dealing with others, they gladly commit injustice. Their burning desire to make money overwhelms all other considerations; results are everything. They are not afraid to bend rules, dissemble, exploit and cut corners to achieve the results they seek.
By contrast, an honorable man would refuse to do these things. He would insist on "justice." But in commerce, this places an honorable man at a material disadvantage; an honorable man will always lose to an ambitious one. An ambitious man does not tie his hands with "ethics;" he is not even afraid to fight dirty when he must. In the end, the ambitious man achieves the goal, wins the power and ultimately takes high office. When ambition leads to such tangible rewards, who wouldn't want to be ambitious?
Probably not many. Nonetheless, I venture that honor offers its own rewards. Success can be measured in ways beyond salaries and fame. Some success is purely internal. Some success flows from personal excellence and adherence to personal standards. Put differently, it can be rewarding to be ethical. Although ethics may impede ambition and external success, it leads to virtue. It may be an antiquated sentiment to say that success means being honorable. But I really think it does.
External success is overrated. I leave it to the ambitious to chase external recognition and rewards. For my part, I am content to live according to my own heart and my own principles. I strive to do wrong to no one, not to make a certain salary. I strive to help those who need it, not to win praises from a supervisor. I burn to express my own personality, not to tailor my speech for a money prize. Call me old-fashioned--or even antiquated--but honor is very important to me.
But I can't be ambitious for honor. True honor exists without a need for external recognition or reward. Honor does not bestow career advancement, at least not consciously. No, ambition only works for those who crave external rewards. By contrast, honor is an internal reward. It is inwardly fulfilling. As such, ambition will not help you find honor--or "achieve" it. In fact, while it may be an achievement to live with honor, there's no trophy or plaque to commemorate the day you became honorable.
That's what an ambitious person will never understand.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
BIRTHRATES AND HOMOSEXUALITY : A CLASSICAL PERSPECTIVE AND A WORD ON TRADITION-BASED ARGUMENTS
AN ESSAY
Over the last few weeks, I have been delving deeper into Aristotle's Politics. In a previous essay, I wrote that I had begun to read Aristotle with more forgiveness. Now, I can confidently say that some of his ideas actually "work" for me. I no longer cast a suspicious eye on everything he writes. Rather, I closely evaluate his arguments to parse points that make sense to me.
In the past, I criticized Aristotle because he was too metaphysical. He presumed that everything on earth has an identifiable "purpose," and that absolute "truth" was obtainable by analyzing various interactions between "purposes." I first read Aristotle when I was college. At the time, I was making discoveries about my own sexuality. Aristotle's metaphysics appeared to argue against "non-procreative" sexuality because "male sexual organs" and "female sexual organs" have absolute, reproductive "purposes." Accordingly, using sexual organs for purposes beyond procreation amounted to "misuse." It is not surprising that the medieval Church and the modern Catholic Church closely read Aristotle. They used this very argument to demonize all sexuality-- with special vehemence reserved for homosexuality.
But a much different picture emerged when I sat down to read Aristotle again. Rather than condemning homosexuality as an abomination--as I always assumed he did, without ever reading as much--he espoused a much less judgmental attitude. To the contrary, he seemed to echo my own belief that homosexuality exists in nature, and that it makes little sense to condemn it. See, e.g., http://reasoncommercejustice.blogspot.com/2009/01/oesterhoudt-strikes.html.
In analyzing the Spartan Constitution, for example, Aristotle reasons as a biologist, observing: "[C]ertainly all people seem compulsively attracted by sexual relations, either with males or females." The Politics, Book II, Ch. ix ¶ 1269b23. Earlier in the same paragraph, he actually praises "societies in which male homosexuality is openly esteemed," because male-centered societies--unlike Sparta--tend to keep avaricious women in check. Id. Aristotle believed that males "naturally" ruled females; thus, it was more an abomination to tolerate females "ruling" men than to allow males to have sex with each other. But in the final analysis, Aristotle suggests that sexuality is natural, no matter whether it involves males or females. Human beings are simply "compulsively attracted" by sexual relations. And that "compulsion" does not draw a bright gender line.
Aristotle does not simply conclude that homosexuality is natural. He even observes that homosexuality performs an essential State function by restraining birthrates. In analyzing the Cretan Constitution, he notes that the lawgiver actually prescribed "sexual relations between males" in order to "keep[] down the birthrate." The Politics, Book II, Ch. x ¶ 1272a12. He also notes that the lawgiver strictly separated males and females in order to prevent unnecessary pregnancies. Id. Put another way, the Cretan lawgiver understood that all human beings are "compulsively attracted by sexual relations" with each other, so he allowed both men and women to find sexual outlets in a manner that would not bankrupt the Kingdom by overpopulation.
I found this fascinating for several reasons. First, I never thought that a classical philosopher--let alone Aristotle--would argue that homosexuality could actually be exploited to fulfill a beneficial State objective. I always thought that Western governments took a moral stance against homosexuality. Apparently that is not true. In the Politics, Aristotle frankly discusses homosexuality as both a natural phenomenon and worthwhile social policy. Morality does not even enter the analysis.
Second, I found it interesting that Aristotle repeatedly speaks out against birthrates. Although he only mentions homosexuality in connection with birthrates in the Cretan example, he mentions low birthrates many times throughout the Politics. He equates high birthrates with poverty, discord and ruin. At the same time, he praises States that carefully control their populations. This makes sense given Aristotle's belief that States should strive to cultivate "good" people, not just "many" people.
Aristotle's views on homosexuality and birthrates fundamentally differ from modern views on the same subjects. For centuries, Western society has learned to revile homosexuality in all its manifestations. Church dogma called homosexuality a "sin;" it warned homosexuals that they would go to hell if they "practiced" it. The law labeled it a "crime;" it warned homosexuals that they would be executed or imprisoned for it. Even the scientific community diagnosed it as a "disease;" psychiatrists did not remove it from the book of "mental illnesses" until about 1970.
Although extreme institutional intolerance toward homosexuality has slowly weakened over time, there remains a virulent moral strain against homosexuality in Western societies. It is still "not normal." It is still somehow illegitimate and "disgusting." Put another way, it may not be "illegal" anymore; but it is still "immoral." Despite some modest legal advances in recent years (i.e., it is no longer constitutionally permissible to jail gay men for having sex), these attitudes force homosexuals to live on the fringes of society. They risk everything by living truthfully. They face a difficult decision whether to tell others about their own sexuality, a decision that no other people need to worry about in society. Or they can simply to choose to live in secret.
These are hardly appetizing decisions to make in life.
Against this background, it is almost inconceivable that a respected scholar would suggest that homosexuality is "natural," let alone that it could serve a "beneficial social purpose." If anything, attitudes toward homosexuality in Western civilization reveal little more than contempt. Until the late 19th Century, "sodomites" hanged in Great Britain. That is a far, far cry from Aristotle's argument that homosexuality actually could provide a benefit to society through lower birthrates.
But Western societies traditionally do not like low birthrates, either. That is why Aristotle's views on low birthrates seem so fascinating today. Historically, Western societies have done their best to encourage high birthrates. They have generally wanted to increase their populations. This coincided with Church dogma that men and women should "honor God" by "blessing Him" with as many offspring as possible. Just as the Church preached against homosexuality, so too did it praise prolific childbearing.
Modern America is no exception to these attitudes. For the most part, the United States encourages procreation among its citizens. Families with many children earn social praise, even congratulations. By the same token, modern America does not fully tolerate homosexuality. Homosexuals, after all, do not procreate. Is there a conceptual link between historical hatred for homosexuals and their inability to contribute to the birthrate?
Is there a moral link? After all, Western history shows that high birthrates bespeak "moral" living, while homosexuality bespeaks "immorality" because it does not contribute to the birthrate. In this sense, there is an inverse relationship between homosexuality and birthrates in modern society: The capacity for high birthrates is moral and good, while homosexuality is immoral and bad because it does not lead to high birthrates.
These views have reigned in the West for centuries. But a quick read through Aristotle reveals that it has not always been so. If a philosopher as renowned as Aristotle suggested that homosexuality is natural and that low birthrates are good, what does that say about "traditional" Western views on these subjects? After all, those who demonize homosexuality as an immoral abomination prize arguments based in "tradition." They say that "tradition" provides a reason to hate homosexuality because "our society has always reviled homosexuality."
But what if "tradition" is wrong? Or at least conveniently tailored to meet ideological ends? When it comes to homosexuality, Aristotle provides a historical example that not everyone in the "Western tradition" thought homosexuality was an abomination. Put simply, Aristotle's divergence from the so-called "tradition against homosexuality" shows that "tradition" arguments can be very misleading. After all, it is easy to just ignore inconvenient voices in a historical tradition, then call the tailored version "tradition."
I do not think that "tradition" categorically supports an argument that homosexuality is necessarily "immoral," or that high birthrates are necessarily "good." We simply must reference Aristotle to wreck any argument that "tradition" on these subjects has been unanimous. It hasn't.
And to those who think arguments based in tradition somehow carry special weight, I offer another quote from Aristotle to temper reliance on tailored history: "Generally, of course, it is the good, and not simply the traditional, that is aimed at." The Politics, Book II, Ch. viii ¶1269a3.
Put another way, it is no answer to a problem to say: "That's the way we've always done it." Solving problems takes independent thought, not blind imitation or historical charades.
Over the last few weeks, I have been delving deeper into Aristotle's Politics. In a previous essay, I wrote that I had begun to read Aristotle with more forgiveness. Now, I can confidently say that some of his ideas actually "work" for me. I no longer cast a suspicious eye on everything he writes. Rather, I closely evaluate his arguments to parse points that make sense to me.
In the past, I criticized Aristotle because he was too metaphysical. He presumed that everything on earth has an identifiable "purpose," and that absolute "truth" was obtainable by analyzing various interactions between "purposes." I first read Aristotle when I was college. At the time, I was making discoveries about my own sexuality. Aristotle's metaphysics appeared to argue against "non-procreative" sexuality because "male sexual organs" and "female sexual organs" have absolute, reproductive "purposes." Accordingly, using sexual organs for purposes beyond procreation amounted to "misuse." It is not surprising that the medieval Church and the modern Catholic Church closely read Aristotle. They used this very argument to demonize all sexuality-- with special vehemence reserved for homosexuality.
But a much different picture emerged when I sat down to read Aristotle again. Rather than condemning homosexuality as an abomination--as I always assumed he did, without ever reading as much--he espoused a much less judgmental attitude. To the contrary, he seemed to echo my own belief that homosexuality exists in nature, and that it makes little sense to condemn it. See, e.g., http://reasoncommercejustice.blogspot.com/2009/01/oesterhoudt-strikes.html.
In analyzing the Spartan Constitution, for example, Aristotle reasons as a biologist, observing: "[C]ertainly all people seem compulsively attracted by sexual relations, either with males or females." The Politics, Book II, Ch. ix ¶ 1269b23. Earlier in the same paragraph, he actually praises "societies in which male homosexuality is openly esteemed," because male-centered societies--unlike Sparta--tend to keep avaricious women in check. Id. Aristotle believed that males "naturally" ruled females; thus, it was more an abomination to tolerate females "ruling" men than to allow males to have sex with each other. But in the final analysis, Aristotle suggests that sexuality is natural, no matter whether it involves males or females. Human beings are simply "compulsively attracted" by sexual relations. And that "compulsion" does not draw a bright gender line.
Aristotle does not simply conclude that homosexuality is natural. He even observes that homosexuality performs an essential State function by restraining birthrates. In analyzing the Cretan Constitution, he notes that the lawgiver actually prescribed "sexual relations between males" in order to "keep[] down the birthrate." The Politics, Book II, Ch. x ¶ 1272a12. He also notes that the lawgiver strictly separated males and females in order to prevent unnecessary pregnancies. Id. Put another way, the Cretan lawgiver understood that all human beings are "compulsively attracted by sexual relations" with each other, so he allowed both men and women to find sexual outlets in a manner that would not bankrupt the Kingdom by overpopulation.
I found this fascinating for several reasons. First, I never thought that a classical philosopher--let alone Aristotle--would argue that homosexuality could actually be exploited to fulfill a beneficial State objective. I always thought that Western governments took a moral stance against homosexuality. Apparently that is not true. In the Politics, Aristotle frankly discusses homosexuality as both a natural phenomenon and worthwhile social policy. Morality does not even enter the analysis.
Second, I found it interesting that Aristotle repeatedly speaks out against birthrates. Although he only mentions homosexuality in connection with birthrates in the Cretan example, he mentions low birthrates many times throughout the Politics. He equates high birthrates with poverty, discord and ruin. At the same time, he praises States that carefully control their populations. This makes sense given Aristotle's belief that States should strive to cultivate "good" people, not just "many" people.
Aristotle's views on homosexuality and birthrates fundamentally differ from modern views on the same subjects. For centuries, Western society has learned to revile homosexuality in all its manifestations. Church dogma called homosexuality a "sin;" it warned homosexuals that they would go to hell if they "practiced" it. The law labeled it a "crime;" it warned homosexuals that they would be executed or imprisoned for it. Even the scientific community diagnosed it as a "disease;" psychiatrists did not remove it from the book of "mental illnesses" until about 1970.
Although extreme institutional intolerance toward homosexuality has slowly weakened over time, there remains a virulent moral strain against homosexuality in Western societies. It is still "not normal." It is still somehow illegitimate and "disgusting." Put another way, it may not be "illegal" anymore; but it is still "immoral." Despite some modest legal advances in recent years (i.e., it is no longer constitutionally permissible to jail gay men for having sex), these attitudes force homosexuals to live on the fringes of society. They risk everything by living truthfully. They face a difficult decision whether to tell others about their own sexuality, a decision that no other people need to worry about in society. Or they can simply to choose to live in secret.
These are hardly appetizing decisions to make in life.
Against this background, it is almost inconceivable that a respected scholar would suggest that homosexuality is "natural," let alone that it could serve a "beneficial social purpose." If anything, attitudes toward homosexuality in Western civilization reveal little more than contempt. Until the late 19th Century, "sodomites" hanged in Great Britain. That is a far, far cry from Aristotle's argument that homosexuality actually could provide a benefit to society through lower birthrates.
But Western societies traditionally do not like low birthrates, either. That is why Aristotle's views on low birthrates seem so fascinating today. Historically, Western societies have done their best to encourage high birthrates. They have generally wanted to increase their populations. This coincided with Church dogma that men and women should "honor God" by "blessing Him" with as many offspring as possible. Just as the Church preached against homosexuality, so too did it praise prolific childbearing.
Modern America is no exception to these attitudes. For the most part, the United States encourages procreation among its citizens. Families with many children earn social praise, even congratulations. By the same token, modern America does not fully tolerate homosexuality. Homosexuals, after all, do not procreate. Is there a conceptual link between historical hatred for homosexuals and their inability to contribute to the birthrate?
Is there a moral link? After all, Western history shows that high birthrates bespeak "moral" living, while homosexuality bespeaks "immorality" because it does not contribute to the birthrate. In this sense, there is an inverse relationship between homosexuality and birthrates in modern society: The capacity for high birthrates is moral and good, while homosexuality is immoral and bad because it does not lead to high birthrates.
These views have reigned in the West for centuries. But a quick read through Aristotle reveals that it has not always been so. If a philosopher as renowned as Aristotle suggested that homosexuality is natural and that low birthrates are good, what does that say about "traditional" Western views on these subjects? After all, those who demonize homosexuality as an immoral abomination prize arguments based in "tradition." They say that "tradition" provides a reason to hate homosexuality because "our society has always reviled homosexuality."
But what if "tradition" is wrong? Or at least conveniently tailored to meet ideological ends? When it comes to homosexuality, Aristotle provides a historical example that not everyone in the "Western tradition" thought homosexuality was an abomination. Put simply, Aristotle's divergence from the so-called "tradition against homosexuality" shows that "tradition" arguments can be very misleading. After all, it is easy to just ignore inconvenient voices in a historical tradition, then call the tailored version "tradition."
I do not think that "tradition" categorically supports an argument that homosexuality is necessarily "immoral," or that high birthrates are necessarily "good." We simply must reference Aristotle to wreck any argument that "tradition" on these subjects has been unanimous. It hasn't.
And to those who think arguments based in tradition somehow carry special weight, I offer another quote from Aristotle to temper reliance on tailored history: "Generally, of course, it is the good, and not simply the traditional, that is aimed at." The Politics, Book II, Ch. viii ¶1269a3.
Put another way, it is no answer to a problem to say: "That's the way we've always done it." Solving problems takes independent thought, not blind imitation or historical charades.
Monday, December 14, 2009
DEMOCRACY : AN AMERICAN MYTH
AN ESSAY
Americans learn to revere the word "democracy." In public school, they learn that the American government is "democratic." They take pride in "democracy" because "democracy" is a "free" form of government that is "better" than other governments. After all, when students learn about the American Revolution, they inevitably hear that our Framers established a "democracy." And "democracy" is "better" than the unjust "monarchy" that led them to revolt. Applying these indoctrinated ideals, Americans claim that they never believe in "family distinctions," "aristocracy" or other "elitism" based on inherited titles.
I venture that this is all nonsense. The United States is not--and certainly never was--a democracy. And Americans believe in aristocracy far more than they like to publicly admit: The truth is that both democracy and equality are American myths.
I first doubted the rhetoric about American democracy when I read history books about ancient Greece. In those books, I learned that pure "democracy" imposed no limitation on a person's participation in government. Every voice was equal. Everyone could vote and every decision required majority approval by all. There was no "representative body" that made decisions "in the people's name." No, in pure democracy, the people rule--literally. Everyone has an equal say in policy, from the richest landowner to the lowliest beggar.
Democracy sounds like a wonderful idea. After all, don't we all want to be equal to one another? Should we not all have an equal right to decide on important public questions? Isn't it somehow reassuring to know that the government works for you, and that you have a real chance to influence it? Of course it sounds great. Democracy is idealistic. It lends itself to myths. And like all myths, it does not really exist.
Lately, I've been re-reading Aristotle's Politics. As the world's first real political scientist, he presaged almost every significant political debate that came after him. By categorizing governmental forms, he created the vocabulary of modern political discussion. And Aristotle's text gives me immense support for my contention that the United States is no democracy--not even close. Rather, the United States is an oligarchy.
In criticizing Plato's Laws, Aristotle makes some cogent observations about voting. Americans learn that "democracy" is all about voting. They learn that "going to the polls" proves that "everybody means something" in our political system. There is a theme in American voting rhetoric about equality and dignity. Because we all can supposedly vote, that makes us all equally powerful and worthy. But Aristotle says: "The practice of selection by lot from a number chosen by election is common to both oligarchy and democracy; but to impose upon the richer citizens, and upon them only, the obligation to be members of the Assembly, to vote for office-bearers and do any other duty that falls upon a citizen--that is oligarchical." The Politics, Book II, ch. vi, § 1266a5.
In early America, only white men with sufficient landholdings could vote for representatives. In other words, the "obligation to be members of the Assembly" and "vote for office-bearers" fell solely upon the "richer citizens." Women, slaves and the vast majority of white men had no say whatsoever in government. They could not even go to the polls. Although voting restrictions have certainly diminished over time, it is still no easy thing to vote in the United States. State laws impose numerous handicaps on citizens' right to vote. And in a good year, we're lucky if 50% of the eligible voters actually show up to cast their ballots. Other State laws completely disable people from voting. For example, if you commit a felony--even a relatively minor one, like writing a bad check--you might lose the right to vote for the rest of your life.
In this light, America has historically been far more "oligarchical" than "democratic." If this were a true democracy, everyone would have been able to actively participate in government from the outset. We know this is not the case. Americans have never actively participated in their government. Rather, they elect "particularly distinguished people" from "particular social strata" to rule for them. This, too, is oligarchical. Think about where the Representatives and Senators come from. They are all generally wealthy, white and well-educated. They do not represent a fair cross-section of American society. If anything, they resemble the "richer citizens" Aristotle mentions in The Politics. Just look at Congress. These are not typical Americans: They are 535 people who are far more powerful and wealthy than the people who elected them. And for over a century in this country, they were exclusively landed white males.
Aristotle provides further support for the conclusion that the United States has been--and in many ways, still is--an oligarchy. Concerning oligarchy, he writes: "So also is the attempt to secure that a majority of the office-holders should come from among the wealthy, and that highest offices should be filled by those from the highest property-classes." The Politics, Book II, ch. vi § 1266a5.
What a striking insight. It is as if Aristotle predicted what the United States government would look like 2000 years later. Think about the "majority of the office-holders" in American government. What social class do they represent? You guessed it: They largely come from the "highest property-classes," or at least act like they do. Even President Obama made quite a bit of money as a lawyer and law professor before diving into politics. The fact that there are only two political parties reinforces the oligarchical nature of American government. Unlike European parliamentary systems, Americans have only two choices: Liberal rich guy #1 (the Democrat) or Conservative rich guy #2 (the Republican). There are no "Greens," "Socialists," "Labor Men," "Women for Animals' Rights" or "Christian Theologues." In the American system, every "high office holder" is basically the same: A wealthy believer in free market capitalism who owns significant amounts of property. That is oligarchy.
In the final analysis, it is clear that people from the "highest property-classes" run the American government. They always have, and they always will. Let's just be honest about our terminology: This is an oligarchy, not a democracy. It is simply false to call our system a "democracy," no matter how many people can technically vote. Despite this, it works in the government's favor to identify itself as a "democracy." After all, "democracy" has a magical ring to it. It conjures all kinds of hopeful ideals. It also fools the people into believing that they actually have a say in policy. History shows that people revolt when they feel they are powerless. But when they think their government actually speaks for them, they refrain from revolution. In that sense, calling America a "democracy" maintains social control, even if it is untrue. Calling America a "democracy" keeps things quiet. And that's just how oligarchs like it: It lets them continue to hold all the power.
Oligarchy proceeds on the premise that only a few hold political power. It implies inequality. Democracy, on the other hand, proceeds on the premise that everyone holds political power. It implies equality. Yet a quick look at inequalities in the American political system beginning in 1787 reveals just how absurd it is to call the United States a "democracy." And a quick look at the "kind of people" who have held high office in the United States over the years--Presidents, Senators, Supreme Court justices--merely confirms Aristotle's analysis: These guys (well, almost all guys) all came from the "highest property-classes."
In this light, it is simply disingenuous to delude our children into thinking that they live in a democracy. If they do not come from "high property-classes," they stand a much lower chance to ever influence government. That does not mean that they cannot rise into a "high property-class." It simply means that they must first obtain wealth before even thinking about politics. After all, it wouldn't be an oligarchy if poor folks suddenly held all the high government jobs.
In truth, no country can ever be fully democratic. Could a country in good faith entrust its most pressing concerns to half-fed beggars, idiots and wage laborers? Certainly not. It is reasonable to put political power into "competent" hands. And generally the wealthy are those most competent to administer the State. I simply believe we must be honest in the way we think about our government. That means dropping all aspirations to "equality" and "dignity." The sad fact is that perfect equality is a very bad idea when it comes to government. It would be better if we simply acknowledged that and stopped perpetuating myths that "everyone is equal" in American society. That is not the goal, nor can it ever be. Yet even the oligarchs in power circulate meaningless rhetoric about democratic opportunity and equality for all in America.
We are oligarchs; why not just admit it? Let's at least stop lying to our children about democracy.
Americans learn to revere the word "democracy." In public school, they learn that the American government is "democratic." They take pride in "democracy" because "democracy" is a "free" form of government that is "better" than other governments. After all, when students learn about the American Revolution, they inevitably hear that our Framers established a "democracy." And "democracy" is "better" than the unjust "monarchy" that led them to revolt. Applying these indoctrinated ideals, Americans claim that they never believe in "family distinctions," "aristocracy" or other "elitism" based on inherited titles.
I venture that this is all nonsense. The United States is not--and certainly never was--a democracy. And Americans believe in aristocracy far more than they like to publicly admit: The truth is that both democracy and equality are American myths.
I first doubted the rhetoric about American democracy when I read history books about ancient Greece. In those books, I learned that pure "democracy" imposed no limitation on a person's participation in government. Every voice was equal. Everyone could vote and every decision required majority approval by all. There was no "representative body" that made decisions "in the people's name." No, in pure democracy, the people rule--literally. Everyone has an equal say in policy, from the richest landowner to the lowliest beggar.
Democracy sounds like a wonderful idea. After all, don't we all want to be equal to one another? Should we not all have an equal right to decide on important public questions? Isn't it somehow reassuring to know that the government works for you, and that you have a real chance to influence it? Of course it sounds great. Democracy is idealistic. It lends itself to myths. And like all myths, it does not really exist.
Lately, I've been re-reading Aristotle's Politics. As the world's first real political scientist, he presaged almost every significant political debate that came after him. By categorizing governmental forms, he created the vocabulary of modern political discussion. And Aristotle's text gives me immense support for my contention that the United States is no democracy--not even close. Rather, the United States is an oligarchy.
In criticizing Plato's Laws, Aristotle makes some cogent observations about voting. Americans learn that "democracy" is all about voting. They learn that "going to the polls" proves that "everybody means something" in our political system. There is a theme in American voting rhetoric about equality and dignity. Because we all can supposedly vote, that makes us all equally powerful and worthy. But Aristotle says: "The practice of selection by lot from a number chosen by election is common to both oligarchy and democracy; but to impose upon the richer citizens, and upon them only, the obligation to be members of the Assembly, to vote for office-bearers and do any other duty that falls upon a citizen--that is oligarchical." The Politics, Book II, ch. vi, § 1266a5.
In early America, only white men with sufficient landholdings could vote for representatives. In other words, the "obligation to be members of the Assembly" and "vote for office-bearers" fell solely upon the "richer citizens." Women, slaves and the vast majority of white men had no say whatsoever in government. They could not even go to the polls. Although voting restrictions have certainly diminished over time, it is still no easy thing to vote in the United States. State laws impose numerous handicaps on citizens' right to vote. And in a good year, we're lucky if 50% of the eligible voters actually show up to cast their ballots. Other State laws completely disable people from voting. For example, if you commit a felony--even a relatively minor one, like writing a bad check--you might lose the right to vote for the rest of your life.
In this light, America has historically been far more "oligarchical" than "democratic." If this were a true democracy, everyone would have been able to actively participate in government from the outset. We know this is not the case. Americans have never actively participated in their government. Rather, they elect "particularly distinguished people" from "particular social strata" to rule for them. This, too, is oligarchical. Think about where the Representatives and Senators come from. They are all generally wealthy, white and well-educated. They do not represent a fair cross-section of American society. If anything, they resemble the "richer citizens" Aristotle mentions in The Politics. Just look at Congress. These are not typical Americans: They are 535 people who are far more powerful and wealthy than the people who elected them. And for over a century in this country, they were exclusively landed white males.
Aristotle provides further support for the conclusion that the United States has been--and in many ways, still is--an oligarchy. Concerning oligarchy, he writes: "So also is the attempt to secure that a majority of the office-holders should come from among the wealthy, and that highest offices should be filled by those from the highest property-classes." The Politics, Book II, ch. vi § 1266a5.
What a striking insight. It is as if Aristotle predicted what the United States government would look like 2000 years later. Think about the "majority of the office-holders" in American government. What social class do they represent? You guessed it: They largely come from the "highest property-classes," or at least act like they do. Even President Obama made quite a bit of money as a lawyer and law professor before diving into politics. The fact that there are only two political parties reinforces the oligarchical nature of American government. Unlike European parliamentary systems, Americans have only two choices: Liberal rich guy #1 (the Democrat) or Conservative rich guy #2 (the Republican). There are no "Greens," "Socialists," "Labor Men," "Women for Animals' Rights" or "Christian Theologues." In the American system, every "high office holder" is basically the same: A wealthy believer in free market capitalism who owns significant amounts of property. That is oligarchy.
In the final analysis, it is clear that people from the "highest property-classes" run the American government. They always have, and they always will. Let's just be honest about our terminology: This is an oligarchy, not a democracy. It is simply false to call our system a "democracy," no matter how many people can technically vote. Despite this, it works in the government's favor to identify itself as a "democracy." After all, "democracy" has a magical ring to it. It conjures all kinds of hopeful ideals. It also fools the people into believing that they actually have a say in policy. History shows that people revolt when they feel they are powerless. But when they think their government actually speaks for them, they refrain from revolution. In that sense, calling America a "democracy" maintains social control, even if it is untrue. Calling America a "democracy" keeps things quiet. And that's just how oligarchs like it: It lets them continue to hold all the power.
Oligarchy proceeds on the premise that only a few hold political power. It implies inequality. Democracy, on the other hand, proceeds on the premise that everyone holds political power. It implies equality. Yet a quick look at inequalities in the American political system beginning in 1787 reveals just how absurd it is to call the United States a "democracy." And a quick look at the "kind of people" who have held high office in the United States over the years--Presidents, Senators, Supreme Court justices--merely confirms Aristotle's analysis: These guys (well, almost all guys) all came from the "highest property-classes."
In this light, it is simply disingenuous to delude our children into thinking that they live in a democracy. If they do not come from "high property-classes," they stand a much lower chance to ever influence government. That does not mean that they cannot rise into a "high property-class." It simply means that they must first obtain wealth before even thinking about politics. After all, it wouldn't be an oligarchy if poor folks suddenly held all the high government jobs.
In truth, no country can ever be fully democratic. Could a country in good faith entrust its most pressing concerns to half-fed beggars, idiots and wage laborers? Certainly not. It is reasonable to put political power into "competent" hands. And generally the wealthy are those most competent to administer the State. I simply believe we must be honest in the way we think about our government. That means dropping all aspirations to "equality" and "dignity." The sad fact is that perfect equality is a very bad idea when it comes to government. It would be better if we simply acknowledged that and stopped perpetuating myths that "everyone is equal" in American society. That is not the goal, nor can it ever be. Yet even the oligarchs in power circulate meaningless rhetoric about democratic opportunity and equality for all in America.
We are oligarchs; why not just admit it? Let's at least stop lying to our children about democracy.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
DO WE SPEAK TO UNITE OR TO DECEIVE?
AN ESSAY
As I mentioned last week, I'm re-reading Aristotle's Politics. Surprisingly, I found myself agreeing with many of his points about human beings and their motivations. That surprised me because I always took a prejudiced view against Aristotle. In college, I dismissed him because he was an "absolutist" about truth. But now that many years have passed--and now that I have read so much more--I approach Aristotle with more forgiveness. I do not read him with a smirk anymore. Rather, I read him for what he is: A classical metaphysician. I like some points; I don't like others. It's like reading anyone else.
Yet Aristotle is no average writer. He is a giant among Western philosophers. His views on virtually every subject became dogma for centuries. Men died challenging Aristotlean doctrines in the Catholic church during the Middle Ages. Others risked everything to dispute Aristotle's teachings about ethics and astronomy. As time went on, scientific advances dethroned Aristotle's pre-eminence in some areas. But in others, his influence remains strong--and still relevant. After all, Aristotle wrote about politics, ethics, human beings and beauty. These things cannot be reduced to mathematical fact. Rather, they constantly invite debate, interpretation and reassessment.
Aristotle's political work certainly has continued relevance. Like all the political philosophers who followed him, Aristotle begins by discussing human nature. Aristotle approaches the question with his usual confidence: He makes conclusions as if they were obvious, even if they are just assumptions. He also plays the biologist, constantly comparing humans to their analogues in nature.
I love any discussion about human nature. And I have always disagreed with Aristotle's view here.
Aristotle claims that men are "political animals...by nature." The Politics, Book I, ch. ii, para. 1253a1. He makes this conclusion by examining the key difference between men and beasts: Men have speech. He acknowledges that both animals and men have voice--cows can moo and dogs can bark to voice their feelings--but speech is unique to man.
This might not seem like a profound observation, but Aristotle's understanding of speech is remarkable. The consummate metaphysician, he argues that "speech has a single purpose" and no other. Namely, it enables men to "indicate what is useful and what is harmful," and "what is just or unjust." Id. at para. 1253a7. Finally, he draws the ultimate distinction between men and animals: "[H]umans alone have perception of good and evil, just and unjust." Id.
For Aristotle, then, speech has a justice function. It not only allows men to communicate their feelings, but it exists to help them find what is useful and just for all. This is the natural purpose of speech. It is imbued with a sensitivity for morality (good and evil), practicality (useful and not useful) as well as justice. These are profound concepts. And Aristotle speaks in absolute terms. There is one "good," one "evil," one "justice" and one "useful." In his view, speech enables man to find them all--and to organize States on that basis. Man is not only a speaking animal; his speech allows him to unite with other men to find universal justice in a useful society. What a remarkable assertion.
It is a remarkable assertion because it invites so much scorn. I naturally shy away from absolutes. Aristotle always offered me a tempting target because he reduces complex issues into absolute "sayings." His argument about speech--and human nature--strikes me as impossibly naive. Aristotle's philosophy of "specific purposes" (teleology) always leads to moments like this. After all, how can we say "speech is for justice and unity" when even brief life experience reveals that men often do not use speech for those purposes? Aristotle assumes that speech leads to cooperation and good. But life experience refutes this: Men lie. They don't cooperate. They don't tell the truth. They divide from one another and twist language to advance their narrow interests. And they certainly do not always use language to find justice. In most cases, language leads to injustice.
For his part, Aristotle would say that deceivers do "not use speech according to its purpose." This is a laughable objection, unfortunately: If language's "natural purpose" is to "find justice," then I would argue that people rarely use it "naturally."
Broadly speaking, Aristotle's theory of language reflects a good view of human nature. Aristotle believed that men naturally worked with one another to achieve a "good life." See Politics, Book I, ch. ii at para. 1252b27. He thought that speech gave them a natural tool to discover useful methods for securing a "good life," as well as to distinguish "good from evil," "right from wrong" and "just from unjust." Finally, he thought that men naturally cooperated with each other to achieve a "good life" filled with justice.
These are admirable sentiments. The problem is that Aristotle assumed everything he concluded. Every philosopher must assume certain basic principles in order to develop his theories about life. Aristotle's assumptions sound appealing, but they remain assumptions. For my part, I cannot assume that men are good by nature. And because of that, I cannot assume that men generally use speech for good purposes. Men unite with speech, but they also deceive with it. Men do good with speech; they also do bad. It is no answer to say--as Aristotle does--that they are merely "ignoring speech's natural purpose." There are no overreaching purposes. We simply attach them according to our individual sensitivities.
Aristotle thought that he could find truth by assigning specific purposes to everything open to human experience or imagination. And he assumed that one "truth" exists to be found: That was his worst assumption of all.
As I mentioned last week, I'm re-reading Aristotle's Politics. Surprisingly, I found myself agreeing with many of his points about human beings and their motivations. That surprised me because I always took a prejudiced view against Aristotle. In college, I dismissed him because he was an "absolutist" about truth. But now that many years have passed--and now that I have read so much more--I approach Aristotle with more forgiveness. I do not read him with a smirk anymore. Rather, I read him for what he is: A classical metaphysician. I like some points; I don't like others. It's like reading anyone else.
Yet Aristotle is no average writer. He is a giant among Western philosophers. His views on virtually every subject became dogma for centuries. Men died challenging Aristotlean doctrines in the Catholic church during the Middle Ages. Others risked everything to dispute Aristotle's teachings about ethics and astronomy. As time went on, scientific advances dethroned Aristotle's pre-eminence in some areas. But in others, his influence remains strong--and still relevant. After all, Aristotle wrote about politics, ethics, human beings and beauty. These things cannot be reduced to mathematical fact. Rather, they constantly invite debate, interpretation and reassessment.
Aristotle's political work certainly has continued relevance. Like all the political philosophers who followed him, Aristotle begins by discussing human nature. Aristotle approaches the question with his usual confidence: He makes conclusions as if they were obvious, even if they are just assumptions. He also plays the biologist, constantly comparing humans to their analogues in nature.
I love any discussion about human nature. And I have always disagreed with Aristotle's view here.
Aristotle claims that men are "political animals...by nature." The Politics, Book I, ch. ii, para. 1253a1. He makes this conclusion by examining the key difference between men and beasts: Men have speech. He acknowledges that both animals and men have voice--cows can moo and dogs can bark to voice their feelings--but speech is unique to man.
This might not seem like a profound observation, but Aristotle's understanding of speech is remarkable. The consummate metaphysician, he argues that "speech has a single purpose" and no other. Namely, it enables men to "indicate what is useful and what is harmful," and "what is just or unjust." Id. at para. 1253a7. Finally, he draws the ultimate distinction between men and animals: "[H]umans alone have perception of good and evil, just and unjust." Id.
For Aristotle, then, speech has a justice function. It not only allows men to communicate their feelings, but it exists to help them find what is useful and just for all. This is the natural purpose of speech. It is imbued with a sensitivity for morality (good and evil), practicality (useful and not useful) as well as justice. These are profound concepts. And Aristotle speaks in absolute terms. There is one "good," one "evil," one "justice" and one "useful." In his view, speech enables man to find them all--and to organize States on that basis. Man is not only a speaking animal; his speech allows him to unite with other men to find universal justice in a useful society. What a remarkable assertion.
It is a remarkable assertion because it invites so much scorn. I naturally shy away from absolutes. Aristotle always offered me a tempting target because he reduces complex issues into absolute "sayings." His argument about speech--and human nature--strikes me as impossibly naive. Aristotle's philosophy of "specific purposes" (teleology) always leads to moments like this. After all, how can we say "speech is for justice and unity" when even brief life experience reveals that men often do not use speech for those purposes? Aristotle assumes that speech leads to cooperation and good. But life experience refutes this: Men lie. They don't cooperate. They don't tell the truth. They divide from one another and twist language to advance their narrow interests. And they certainly do not always use language to find justice. In most cases, language leads to injustice.
For his part, Aristotle would say that deceivers do "not use speech according to its purpose." This is a laughable objection, unfortunately: If language's "natural purpose" is to "find justice," then I would argue that people rarely use it "naturally."
Broadly speaking, Aristotle's theory of language reflects a good view of human nature. Aristotle believed that men naturally worked with one another to achieve a "good life." See Politics, Book I, ch. ii at para. 1252b27. He thought that speech gave them a natural tool to discover useful methods for securing a "good life," as well as to distinguish "good from evil," "right from wrong" and "just from unjust." Finally, he thought that men naturally cooperated with each other to achieve a "good life" filled with justice.
These are admirable sentiments. The problem is that Aristotle assumed everything he concluded. Every philosopher must assume certain basic principles in order to develop his theories about life. Aristotle's assumptions sound appealing, but they remain assumptions. For my part, I cannot assume that men are good by nature. And because of that, I cannot assume that men generally use speech for good purposes. Men unite with speech, but they also deceive with it. Men do good with speech; they also do bad. It is no answer to say--as Aristotle does--that they are merely "ignoring speech's natural purpose." There are no overreaching purposes. We simply attach them according to our individual sensitivities.
Aristotle thought that he could find truth by assigning specific purposes to everything open to human experience or imagination. And he assumed that one "truth" exists to be found: That was his worst assumption of all.
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