Tag: Rawls

First three pages


This thesis defends the proposition that respect and self-respect are identical, necessary and sufficient for a response to the ecological emergency

To begin at the beginning: in the global North, respect and self-respect have been treated as two separate attitudes. Respect has traditionally been attributed to persons. Immanuel Kant argued that respect was the pivotal attitude around which our moral activities revolved1 and that persons, that is, autonomous, rational agents, themselves generated that attitude (one which acknowledged that persons were ends in themselves, and not only instruments serving the ends of someone or something else). Self-respect, on the other hand, is the reflexive idea that an individual acknowledges that they, themselves, would generate that attitude among others. In other words, it is simply the acknowledgment that they themselves have interests that are as worthy of consideration as the next person. John Rawls used this idea of self-respect in his A Theory of Justice to show that the process of political justice relies on the individuals involved acknowledging their own worth before their participation in the democratic process could be assured2. Without self-respect, society’s members would not be inclined to weigh their interests as sufficiently significant to warrant representation, and would become less represented, and this, in turn, would impinge on their views of themselves. Self-respect, then, was, to Rawls, central to the realisation of a fair and participatorily just democracy.

Just as Rawls had extended Kant’s idea of respect to self-respect – the idea that persons as ends in themselves being extended to include the attitude towards the individual themselves – so Paul Taylor saw the possibility of extending respect outwards to include not just autonomous human agents but also any living organism, given that all organisms pursue their own ‘good’3. Taylor’s idea in his book, Respect for Nature, was to defend a thesis that limiting inclusion in consideration of interests to humans alone was problematic, since it failed to acknowledge the developments in modern scientific understanding that the difference between human and other organisms’ motivations and teleological drives had a common source: all were evolutionarily driven. Given this common ground, it no longer made sense to treat humans as a separate category of being from all others, even if humans were the only ones who had self-reflective consciousness (and therefore the capacity for self-respect). Instead, respect needed to be extended, according to Taylor, to include each and every organism, and thus his proposal was that we respect Nature rather than just respecting humanity as the solution to the problems we face, as a species, in light of anthropogenic impact on the ecology.

Respect in the tradition of the global North was extended further during the field of philosophy’s attempts to tackle the implications of anthropogenic ecological or environmental impact. I will use the term ‘ecological’ because the ‘ecology’ or ‘ecological systems’ refer to both living and non-living aspects of systems. That is, they include both species, and they focus on the relationships between them as much as the individuals within them, and they also include the non-living hydrological, geological, climatic and other conditions within which those species are interacting. The ecology is a term to describe the fluid dynamics of a system of interactions. The environment, on the other hand, describes the neighbourhood, the surroundings, and in a sense it is a more static term that only incidentally implies that the relationships between the organisms and species create the dynamic within which the perceiver is situatied. The ecology necessarily includes the perceiver, because, etymologically at least, ‘eco’ means ‘home’ and this necessarily locates the perceiver within the action of the ecology. The environment is segregated from the perceiver by that same etymological method: a neighbour cannot be oneself.

Respect and self-respect in the tradition of the global North4 were segregated primarily as a result of the historical development of ideas. The cradle of ideas for the global North was Greece, and although there was some struggle for a dominant paradigm, the overwhelming success of Platonic philosophy, with its emphasis on a clear dualism between the world of Forms, or Ideals, and the (grossly inferior) messy, ever-changing world of matter, became the standard against which all subsequent attempts to understand the world were measured. As a result, the understanding of religion, a meme that had taken hold and developed into the Judeo-Christian tradition, echoing this earlier division, posited an ideal, pure and immortal soul within the gross and ever-decaying physical body. In addition, religion divided the human realm from that of the rest of existence, including the rest of living existence, a move it justified with myths that told how the beasts (particularly the serpent) had betrayed us, and how the rest of creation had been designed specifically for human use. Rene Descartes’ thought experiment with the deluding demon proved, he argued, that consciousness, like the immaterial soul, was insubstantial and yet inhabited the physical, human form. Animals did not have souls and therefore could not suffer (they had no idea of time: this argument is still used to justify animal experimentation and factory farming). There were two realms for human existence. The material world, including the living world, was insentiate, mechanistic. Consciousness was the realm of the will, the spirit, and the possibilities for human advancement.

Fitting the history of self-respect into this picture is delicate. The institutional shifts between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries meant that there was a shift in focus from an aristocratic defence of personal honour to more bourgeois one of personal dignity. The age of chivalry was overtaken by an age of rationality and the result was more reflection on the rights and dignities of individuals than on whether or not their honour had been upheld or defiled (although in southern Europe, as Peter Berger points out5, and in the gangs that accompany this culture elsewhere, the principles are still strongly held). As a result, the dualism of respect and self-respect developed around the rational humanism of a growing bourgeoisie and the appropriation of traditionally aristocratic virtues by the new industrial class. To respect was to hold up the worth of another individual on the basis that they were, literally in essence, worthy of equal consideration. While this was limited, in the nineteenth century, to white, male individuals, the core idea remained important even as the circle of considerability expanded. Alongside the development of the idea of respect grew the idea of self-respect, just as important a consideration since it encompassed, according to David Hume in his Inquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals (1751), a ‘habit of surveying ourselves, as it were, in reflection … and begets in noble natures a certain reverence for themselves as well as others, which is the surest guardian of every virtue.’ This idea that self-respect was both a reflection on our public selves, and a means by which we might revere ourselves enough to act worthily, shows how the dualistic divide struggled to make sense of an increasingly conflicted dichotomy. Was the ‘self’ being created by the ‘other’, or vice versa?

Meanwhile, at least one tradition of the global South offered an alternative perspective on respect. Instead of this tension between attempts to shore up an identity worth maintaining, and the rationalised justification of universal consideration of individual interests, Master Eihei Dogen’s Shobogenzo illustrates how the practice of self-reflection empties the self of any substance whatsoever. The response to the realisation of emptiness is one of compassionate non-attachment, a practice-enlightenment that makes respect the central attitude around which all activity revolves. Since the concept of the self as a separate entity is foreign to the Soto Zen tradition, the problem of self-respect does not arise. Without the dualism that evolved in the historical tradition of the global North, none of the difficulties associated with an inflated idealised transcendent ‘I’ emerged. Instead, the contemplation of the boundaries of all things enabled the practitioners, with great effort, but eventually also with compassion and even with joy, to bring the activity of respect into every aspect of living existence, and just as importantly, into the acknowledgment of the temporary nature of this existence, and therefore into the cultivation of non-attachment. Therefore what is cultivated in Zen is not love, but compassion, a more measured frame of reference in which experience is held as a sphere of activity within which one’s own activity is simply a relational perspective, shifting as dynamically as day and night.

1He was wrong: our activities do revolve around attitudes, but these are not moral. I will explain this below.

2I wholeheartedly agree with Rawls, which is ironic, given that I am going to defend the proposition that respect and self-respect are identical. However, a little thought shows that those who participate least in the political process are those that respect the process least. This does not mean that those who participate least in the political process because they are disenchanted or disillusioned by the political possibilities on offer exhibit a lack of self-respect. Far from it: critical thinking is itself a mark of self-respect, since it indicates a willingness to value, and therefore use, the intellectual problem-solving skills at one’s disposal. Those who are not keen to participate, but who can give no indication why, exhibit a lack of self-respect, however, because they are not even willing to critically question the political possibilities on offer, or consider potential alternatives.

3The use of the term ‘good’ here is problematic. ‘Conditions that support their continuing flourishing’ is better, but unweildy. We will return later to a consideration of the language of morals because it is a central part of the problem created by dualistic thinking.

4I use the terms ‘global North’ and ‘global South’ to indicate the cultural exploitation and dominance of the former over the latter: the ‘global North’, as a result of the idiosyncracies of history (see, for instance, Jared Diamond’s explanation in Guns, Germs and Steel), including its reliance on dualism as an explanation and justification for differential treatment of different groups, has had a far greater influence on the kind and level of impact of the species on the ecology, both through the development of the scientific method to ensure technological advances, and through the economic model of capitalism.

5Berger, Peter, The Obsolescence of Honour, in Michel Sandel (ed), Liberalism and its Critics, 1984, pp 149-58.

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Supervisory support


I worked for an organisation once that had sessions, periodically, that offered supervisory support. This was something both I and the supervisor dreaded, I’m sure (I’m sure I dreaded it) because I was subtly but manifestly not pulling the same line as the institution demanded. In other words, I had a particular idea of what might benefit the organisation, and since the organisation was service based, of what might benefit the people who used the organisation’s services (I won’t call them clients: they weren’t voluntarily availing of the service). Now, much about the organisation was good and admirable: the general ethos of concern and consideration brooked no argument. It was the subtle stuff that bothered me. Some of the subtle stuff was dealt with in the literature that each employee was required to read, stuff about how to talk to people, and how to think while interacting. But you can’t really tell people how to think, can you? It’s somewhat more intrinsic than that, isn’t it? Telling someone how to think if they don’t have what they call in Ireland a ‘gra’, or a heart, for it, is akin to the reeducation policies that operate when any extreme ideological governance takes control. I hasten to add that no violence was done to me. None at all. Except the grinding sense that I was inclined to go one way – towards less medication, less control, more holistic thinking, compost loos, organic beansprouts (I exaggerate, but you get the general gist) – while the organisation, for all their dedication to the principles of considerate care, was inclined, and indeed, felt itself forced, to go another (medication, health and safety issues involving heavy use of chemicals, sanitation, boundaries, distance).

Tomorrow I leave in preparation for the third meeting. since I transferred, with my supervisor. I’m very aware that writing this is writing in a public space, that anything and everything can be seen. That writing on the web is like writing postcards – one must imagine that anyone, benign or malevolent, has access. Therefore I will say very little about what I anticipate. Part of my preparation has been this uploading of different sections of work I’ve undertaken over the last couple of years as an attempt to organise what it is I think is worth preserving from the alteration in focus. Yet I do see parallels.

European Philosophy is a jungle to one ‘brought up’ in the Anglo-American analytic tradition. It offers no safe quarters. The temptation to resort to earlier positions of ridicule or contempt are exhausted, and one is thrust into the sunlit glade with nothing to defend one but a vague sense that all the boundaries have collapsed.

I am attempting to incorporate two bodies of work – one which is entirely new to me, the Shobogenzo, the Zen tradition of zazen – and yet, which is somewhat familiar, given that I have involved myself, informally and through the teaching of yoga, in a rough and ready study of the practice of observation as a core shift in perceptive inclusion.

The second, older (for me) tradition is that of environmental ethics. But it has been suggested that I work to excise the notion of ethics from the work entirely, using the ideas of evolutionary biology as well as the philosophical work of Hans Georg Moeller to show that taking an ethical stance involves exclusion, involves staking out an ideological territory, and one that will necessarily create opposition among those who don’t share the common ground. In many ways, I applaud this approach: I would love to believe that there is some way in which we can dissolve our ideological boundaries. Yet my more pragmatic inclination is to imagine that it is impossible to include every perspective on the burning boat that is our ecological crisis. We have to find some formula that will allow us to include only those activities that bring us a reasonable chance of response.

I’m all at sea. This is not an unfamiliar situation but it carries the same deep dread as those supervisory support meetings: I will arrive, supplicant, veiled witness, muffling myself with politesse, while the whirling gears of rational thought screech at the impossibility of encompassing the sense that I had made of things before with the demands of a new, somewhat empty, paradigm.

Wish me well.