Archives for category: Philosophy

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to genuinely and perfectly relive moments of the past. To experience it again through all my senses, rather than merely my mind’s eye. The smells, the sights, the tastes in memory that would normally just be broken fragments, whispers of yesterday, would become palpable once more. I imagine not just remembering the look in her eyes, but truly seeing them gaze back into mine; once again knowing me, disarming me. To replicate the bliss and ecstasy of love, the tingle of held hands. Would I ever leave this palace of the past? This sepulcher of my former moments? Would I purposefully scratch the record, allowing the phonograph to loop, over and over, the happiness I once lived? Better than any drug, would its joys sap me of any connection to the present? To the future?

Memory, however, is not perfect. It fades in time; drifting, as we all do, towards oblivion. Occasionally, I remember. A familiar smell; an old photograph. All of a sudden she is here again, but through a veil. The emotions return distorted. The memory is insincere. An imperfect reflection of the original. And inevitably, it too drifts away. The smell dissipates; I put away the photograph. These events become memories themselves. Another fold overlapping, deepening the veil. The distance from the past widens further. Are these traps? Nettles and barbs that cling to me, dragging me down into an impossible crevasse? There is no bottom to hit; I try harder and harder to grasp at a wisp of smoke, and it smiles beautifully as it evaporates in front of me.

Are these traps? Or are they promises? Promises of memories yet to come. Reminders that new hands can be held; new eyes can disarm me. Does the imperfection of memories drive me to discover more? To seek out new joys, new happiness. To no longer desperately clutch at the fleeting images of the past, but to strive out boldly into the future; unsure of the quality of memories to be created, but confident in my ability to try. I have done this before. I can do it again. I will see again. I will smell again. I will feel again. She is a memory, but she will not be the only one. There will be new moments, and I will remember these new moments, and all the moments after.

One of the last books I read was On Killing, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman. While I was reading it, I also watched the movie The Corporation (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0379225/?ref_=nv_sr_1). I didn’t do these things simultaneously, because that is ridiculous, but the book I had on the go at the time of my viewing of The Corporation was On Killing. Glad I cleared that up. Now, what struck me as interesting were the similarities between how Grossman describes a soldier making a kill, and how the film describes how corporations make a buck. I’m not suggesting that corporate profits are the moral equivalent of killing a dude, but hear me out and come to your own conclusions.

The first point that Grossman makes explicitly clear is that the natural urge of human beings is to avoid killing at pretty close to all costs. People would rather risk their own lives and perform non-combative tasks on the frontline (such as carrying ammunition) than fire upon their enemies. He refers to a study done in World War 2 that claimed that only 15-20% of infantry would fire their guns, and made note of many soldiers who proudly told stories of disobeying a kill order and purposefully missing during a firing squad execution, therefore insinuating that even of that minimal percentage, those firing might not even be aiming to kill.

Grossman furthers his point by claiming that this phenomenon of soldiers being unwilling to kill likely permeates the entirety of human history. Even as far back as Alexander the Great, soldiers would rather hack and slash at their opponents, despite the piercing blow being the much more lethal attack. Or the musket, traditionally associated with inaccuracy, when recreated today has a 60% accuracy rate when firing in a range. On the battlefield, the kill ratio was one kill per one hundred bullets fired (or so, my memory is a bit hazy on this statistic, but the gist is there).

So people don’t like killing. It’s not that hard of a concept to accept, really. The kicker is that while the firing rate for World War 2 was 15-20%, while the Vietnam War was going on, there was a firing rate of 90-95%. It’s a bit of a jump. What changed? Well, somebody figured out how to make killing easier.

Conditioning: The biggest change between WW2 and Vietnam was the training of the soldiers. Previously, soldiers were trained with round bulls-eye practice targets on a run-of-the-mill firing range. When trained in conditions of combat (full gear, in trenches, etc.) and firing at lifelike targets (either a silhouette or an image of an enemy combatant), soldiers are more likely to fire at, and kill, their enemy when participating in the real deal. By simulating the conditions of combat, combat itself becomes easier to perform in.

On top of the different types of physical training, soldiers are put through rigorous psychological training to desensitize them towards killing. By having marching songs about death and a barrage of imagery featuring the act of killing, soldiers are able to enter into a mindset where killing and death are the norm. This, again, facilitates committing this otherwise inherently difficult task.

The Demands of Authority: Being directly told to kill greatly increases a person’s likelihood of actually doing so. Having someone yell “fire” will likely cause those with loaded weapons to do so. This isn’t just in war time. Grossman looks at the Milgram experiment where ordinary folks with no training and no violent disposition are told to “electrocute” somebody up until and beyond that person’s death. With the authority of a clipboard and a white lab coat, what the study concluded is that people will straight up murder total strangers if you exert enough believable power over them.

Group Absolution: When in a group of people, such as a machine gun or artillery unit, individuals are more likely to shoot to kill. This occurs for two reasons. The first is that the individual does not want to let his team down. War creates a camaraderie among soldiers that is an incredibly tight bond, and those who have seen combat routinely describe their greatest fear as letting down their friends. This in turn leads to soldiers overcoming their barriers to killing in order to support their comrades. The second reason is the dispersal of guilt among a greater number of individuals. One cannot blame themselves 100% for the actions of several people, and so committing acts that individually would be virtually impossible become possible within a group.

DistanceI’m talking about two kinds of distance. The first is physical distance, and the second is basically all the other kinds. Physical distance means that it is easier to kill people from further away. We’ve been trying to get further away from killing since we started doing it. Clubs and swords to lances and halberds to bows and arrows to guns to artillery to boats and planes, and although Grossman does not mention them in the book, drones, which are pretty close to being as far from killing as you’re going to get. Killing someone with a knife is nigh impossible (to the extent that soldiers would grasp their rifles by the barrel and bludgeon their enemies rather than use the handy dandy bayonet at the end of it), whereas dropping a bomb is as simple as pushing a button.

The second distance(s) are the cultural, moral, and mechanical kinds. Culturally, the less of a person you think your enemy is, the easier it is for you to kill them. Someone from a different culture is alien, and therefore easier to kill, especially when this factor is propagandized to hell. By using slurs, such as Gook, Jap, Kraut, Raghead, Charlie, Jerry, etc. etc. a soldier can differentiate the enemy from a “human being”. By dehumanizing the enemy, the enemy becomes easier to kill. This dehumanization occurs further even with simple euphemisms, such as “engage the target” or “achieve the objective”. The language used allows a system of denial to take place that eases the soldier’s mind.

Moral distance is the enemy is wrong, and I am right. This allows a soldier to see the killing as a justice being done, rather than one person killing another.

Lastly, mechanical distance is seeing a target on a screen, or through a scope, or on a radar, or basically through any equipment that’s not their eyeballs. By putting something between them and their target, a soldier is more easily able to allow themselves to kill.

The Nature of the VictimSoldiers are found to shoot the target that is deemed the most worthwhile kill. Officers, those running machine guns, or whomever the shooter deems the most valuable kill, even something simple like the one guy wearing a helmet, are the most likely targets of a kill-shot.

These are the factors that enable us to kill. Of course, Grossman goes into far more detail than I do, and there are one or two more reasons that an individual might kill (such as those who are just genuinely totally fine with murder), and I would recommend his book if that sort of thing interests you. However, now I’m going to go over this same list again with regards to how corporations are typically run.

Conditioning: The American dream? The glorification of celebrity and wealth? I think everyday citizens are exposed to more conditioning towards the worship of money and wealth than any soldier going through basic training is taught to worship death. We aren’t socialized to want money; we need money. Want a house? You need money. Want an education? Need money. Want a family? Money. Stability? Money. The drive to go out and earn is so strong that those who don’t (or are even unable) are generally considered moral deviants. It is a moral obligation to make money.

Demands of Authority: Corporations are legally obligated to prioritize profits. They are bound to their shareholders. Not just to shareholders, businesses are liable to society, their employees, and their clients (of course not in every instance) to make a profit in order to create wealth. While I wouldn’t really compare a sergeant screaming in a soldier’s ear to shoot to kill to a shareholder’s meeting, the demands of authority to make money at all costs are definitely present.

Group Absolution: While the bond between golf buddies might not be as strong as those bonds created in war, there is definitely an element of camaraderie among the upper echelons of society. They even have their own Burning Man (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemian_Grove). To think that business deals wouldn’t be influenced by any sort of nepotism would be the height of naivety.

Also, and more importantly, corporations are singular entities built up as legal persons, but are in reality a conglomerate of multiple individuals. These individuals, rarely legally responsible for the actions of their corporation, not only have the other members of the board to share in any guilt, but also the abstract entity of the corporation itself. The individual accountability that is normally associated with an action goes further than mere dispersal, and goes straight into dissolution.

Distance: The top floor, in a corner office. The elite rarely associate with those on the lower levels, or visit the areas where production is being produced. In The Corporation, Michael Moore meets a corporate CEO who had never actually visited the third world country where his product was being manufactured. They even made a TV show about how hilarious it would be if bosses mingled with the lowly peons. I can’t remember what it was called, but it had CEOs flipping burgers or whatever. Undercover Bosses, maybe? That sounds right. The idea of the bosses mingling in the workforce is an entertaining novelty, not a staple of reality.

While I wouldn’t necessarily say there is a moral distance between corporate heads and their underlings, there are definitely cultural and mechanical distances. There are multiple euphemisms for firing employees (letting go, downsizing, etc.), and dehumanizing terms are used to describe people every day: client, home owner, employee, tax payers, etc. These terms, while seemingly benign, objectify people into statistics and units of measurement. (Grossman has “social distance” in his list, and points out that in earlier wars when the upper class made up the officers, they were more adept at killing the peasant infantry, but I feel as though that might as well fall under the umbrella of cultural distance because the premise is the same: “this group of people is worth less than my own group of people.”)

Mechanical distance is fairly straight forward. Most information regarding business comes through on a page where the important information has a decimal and a dollar sign.

The Nature of the Victim: While this factor is a bit more of an assumption on my part, and feel free to take this with a grain of salt, but rather than focusing on the relevancy of the victim as with shooting them, when making money the focus is on the irrelevancy of the victim. The massive amounts of capitalistic exploitation and oppression happen in areas of the world that people in North America really just don’t give a shit about. We have known about child labour and Dickensian work environments for decades now, and I wouldn’t say that things have gotten much better.

These enabling factors show up more than just in making money and in killing people. Bullying is often done in groups, and now with the internet there is a mechanical distance that allows new forms of harassment. Even something like breaking up with a significant other becomes much easier via text message (and cowardly, similar to how early soldiers called the use of the bow and arrow cowardly). What these factors do is deaden the connection that we have with our fellow human beings; they remove the emotions that we might normally feel in a face to face interaction. When applied to capitalism, we see that our culture is run by a system that engages in a conditioned sociopathy. This is not the fault of any individual, and The Corporation makes mention of this when they sit down with a CEO that has his own reservations about the environmental destruction that is taking place. The fault lies in the very structure of the system.

In order to disprove empathy, first it would be a pretty good idea to define what it is that I’m disproving. Since the internet is basically my dictionary now, I googled the term and it seems that empathy is: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. That sounds pretty nice, right? Well, nice things tend to be bullshit.

So. Empathy.

How would one begin to empathize? Well normally an empathizer requires a subject towards whom he would be empathetic, and would likely foster that empathy by communicating with this subject. The most common way to communicate between human beings is through language, and that is the probable route that our empathizer would take. Just to be clear, I’m pretty sure empathizer is not a word, and I plan on using that fact to allude to my upcoming point. Language is a flawed concept. We can only understand things based on our vocabulary, and if we don’t have a word for something, there’s no way we can comprehend it. Part of the reason that cultures differ is because they have different vocabularies, and therefore different ways of explaining how the world works, which in turn leads to differing world views. So incredibly complex and abstract concepts like emotions and feelings being pinned down using such cumbersome tools as words seems unlikely.

This is on top of our subjective understanding of language. My understanding of the word ‘fear’, for example, would be based on my personal experiences with ‘fear’ as I interpret the expression. My experiences would be entirely different from another’s, and therefore how we define the word would be subjective, and thus even more difficult to communicate effectively.

But let’s say that somehow our victim is a cleverly verbose poet, who is able to perfectly communicate his emotions to our quixotic empathizer. Our victim’s father has died from incurable form of butt cancer, and after hearing such a tragic tale, our empathizer is moved to tears, and feels as though the emotions are truly being shared. HOWEVER, if our empathizer, after hearing our victim’s story, can go home and hug his own, living, father, there is no possible way that he truly understands what our victim is going through. Not having shared the same experience, the empathizer cannot know what it is like to lose a father if he himself has not suffered the same tragedy. In fact, I would go so far as to call it insulting if someone were to claim they knew how it felt if they had never gone through a similar experience.

But now, let’s kill our empathizer’s father. I can do this, because this is just a story to illustrate a point, and I can kill off any character that I choose. So, our empathizer’s father is dead now too. Hell, let’s say he even died from a bad case of the butt cancers. Our empathizer has now suffered through the same exact tragedy as our victim, and feels as though there is a mutual understanding between the two of them. But what if our victim and his father weren’t all that close? Ol’ Daddy took off when Victim was just a wee boy, and sure he wrote letters, but there was never any real paternal connection. Now dad is dead, and yeah, Victim is kinda sad, but really his eyes only welled up a bit and that was it. He didn’t even need a tissue. On the other hand, Empathizer and his dad were close. They played catch every weekend when Empathizer was growing up; they took fishing trips together during the summer; their relationship was basically a Brad Paisley song. I don’t think anyone would reasonably presume that the mutual experience of a father dying of butt cancer affected these two individuals in a similar enough fashion that one would truly understand what the other was going through.

Everyone lives a different life, and lives different experiences. These experiences shape not only how we see the world, but how we feel things as well. Because of this subjectivity, and our inability to invade someone else’s consciousness, I don’t believe empathy is a real thing.

What is empathy, then? When people tell us that their dad died, most people feel sad. Something happens. So, what the hell is going on?

I believe what happens is that people take the experience of the other, and imagine it happening in their own lives. Our empathizer would listen to the victim’s story, and would imagine what life would be like without his own father. This would cause the empathizer to feel the assumed connection with the victim, even if there is no true understanding. Or if the empathizer wasn’t close with his father, then he would use his learned understanding that people on occasion are close with their fathers, and would go from there. We rely on our own experiences to connect with other human beings.

But what if there is no experience that our empathizer has in his repertoire to fall back on? For instance, say our empathizer is a solid Bro, and our victim is a girl who was sexually harassed at work. Our empathizer has no experience with feminist theory, nor has he had any sort of meaningful conversation with a woman ever. He would, upon hearing our new victim’s story, imagine the sexual harassment in his own life, and probably would assume that to have some lady fondle his junk would honestly be pretty sweet. Thus he wouldn’t be able to understand where Victim #2 is coming from at all, and would more than likely assume that she was exaggerating the issue.

I believe that our natural ability to “empathize” creates more problems than it solves. Religious hostilities, sexist policies, cultural divides… you name it, and it’s probably because someone can’t comprehend what another person is feeling, and is using their “empathetic” ability to justify why making these choices isn’t that big of a deal. In Canada, our assimilationist policies regarding Aboriginals were based on our desires to civilize their people; European settlers would see the non-Christian lifestyle, and would try to “better” the lives of these savages, because the Europeans would want someone to do that for them if they were stuck in such a barbaric situation.

Since I’m not a heartless monster, I will offer up a solution to counter-act the destructive nature of empathy. Here it is: listen. Come at any problem under the assumption that you have no idea what the other person is going through, but with the understanding that they do. Then use real emotions like compassion and respect, and listen to what the other person has to say. Learn from them, and trust them to know what they are talking about.

Seriously, how hard is it to not be a dick?