| | I keep thinking back to something Eben brought up in class last week (Tuesday)- namely, the idea that if you see a problem, or something that you don’t think is OK, you should be doing something about it. I think Eben’s comments resonated with me because they struck a chord with a sort of guilty feeling I’ve often had. The guilt doesn’t come from actively doing anything wrong, but from not actively doing anything that seems particularly right. I’ve often felt uncomfortable with the idea that my life could be considered a moral life when I don’t really think I do anything to correct problems that I see around me. I think the issue boils down to a question of inaction as a morally culpable offense. I do think there is a moral imperative to act when we see something that we think is wrong. I think this idea leads to guilt because I don’t think that I do enough to act, and it’s something that I hope to change if I can figure out how. It made me start thinking about ideas that I’ve struggled with before- for instance, what difference is there between letting someone die before your eyes and not giving them (for example’s sake) the five dollars in your pocket that could save them by buying them food, and not sending food or support somewhere when you can spare it and where it could have a similar lifesaving impact? When does not doing something become as wrong as doing something positively wrong? It’s hard for me to figure out the difference- maybe this is because there isn’t a meaningful one.
I’m wondering what other people think about this. If a person sees something wrong in the world and doesn’t do anything about it, is he or she more culpable than someone who simply doesn’t see the wrong, by choice or by chance? It sort of reminds me also of the philosophical question- is a person brave who isn’t scared in the face of danger, or is a person truly brave who is scared and proceeds anyway? I can’t really articulate how these are connected, but I think it has something to do with making active choices and being aware of situations and choosing to overcome them (as opposed to not facing those choices whatsoever). | | | I think of guilt as a lack of clarity, a sort of conflict within oneself. In life, there are risks to both sides, risks in doing the selfish thing and risks in doing the altruistic/right thing. By being selfish, we guarantee a narrow gain in the present, but miss out on an expanded sense of purpose, and miss out on connections with those we care about in the world at large and are able to help through our actions. On the other hand, altruism also poses risks, both the risk of failure to help those we thought would benefit, and risks of others failing to see the value of our contributions. In the end, I think it comes down to what kind of people we want to be as individuals, and what kind of life we think best for ourselves and those we care about. It's hard sometimes to decide on a purpose worth pursuing, but a purpose pursued with tenacity is the key ingredient in a happy life, or so I am told. Whenever I've had a long period of doubt, the best solution has been to stop thinking so hard and do the thing that seemed right from the beginning. Total clarity is perhaps too hard to come by to be worthwhile, and would also make accurate thought unlikely once achieved.
-- SamWells - 9 Mar 2010 | |
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Erica, I know you went to school in DC, as did I, and I am guessing there was a big push for a life of ‘service’ which, at least at my school, meant Government work, or non-profit work, or diplomacy work or work in the furtherance of the American reputation abroad. We were trained (or, speaking for myself, I was trained) to think of helping in larger terms – helping the nation do what it needed to do. There was not too much of a push, however, on this hands-on direct service work, social cognizance right here in America, that Eben seems to be in such strong favor of.
I admit coming into contact with those who needed my help here in New York city was sort of a shock (but what about land mines in Nagorno-Karabakh, etc.) but once I got over it, I re-defined 'help' in much more localized terms – helping the victims, helping those confused by the system, etc. And there is something so refreshing about that. I have no idea what I can do, actually, physically, to help citizens living under unfriendly governments in Central Asia (or East Africa or the Gulf states or the Baltics or in Central America, or Juarez, Mexico and the list goes on). Join the Foreign Service? Peace Corps for thee years (still on the government’s time and government’s agenda)? Work as a small-time UN bureaucrat? Write newspaper articles about systemic change that nobody reads? Make a documentary? Do these things really do anything? I have no idea.
But I know that I can make small but actual steps to help people living in America better their lives though my work in the courtroom. There is a lot of power in the knowledge: a degree in government will get you a vague government job doing vague government work, but a law degree means a license (pending bar results) to make actual, physical change.
I think that this is the kind of power that Eben is shaking us up about. Not the power to volunteer in a spring break caravan or the power to bring in a homeless man - its the power to use our degree to make systemic change. And I am really glad he has stressed it so emphatically.
AerinMiller - 11 Mar 2010 |
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